#the white violin drabble

[mediocrevideopodcast]

Saint Louis Solidago

Summary: Rocky wants to take you somewhere... somewhere that outshines the Northern Lights, whose waters are clearer than Niagara Falls, whose sights reach further than the Grand Canyon. Or, in which you and Rocky have the bright idea to run through empty fields together.

Pairing: Rocky Rickaby/Reader (Established Relationship)

Content Warnings: None! Just fluff.

Word Count: Short drabble, 734

The grass is soft beneath your feet, but it’s nothing compared to the tenderness of the palm clasped in yours. Rocky’s laughter echoes through the sunny fields, hurriedly slinging his violin case over his shoulder. You cast a brief look over your own, seeing nothing but empty space and your now-abandoned car tucked away amongst the tall grass. White and yellow flowers dance in your vision, swaying delicately amongst the wild grass as the spring breeze flows through the rolling hillside. When you look back you see Rocky gazing back too, although instead of staring at the fields you instead find him smiling brightly at you. Although you don’t have much time to remark on this before he’s turning back around, pushing forward  down the hillside and towards the treeline up ahead. He seems sure of where he’s going despite your own unfamiliarity, and against your better judgement you trust him to lead the way. Although you can’t help but ask…

“As much as I love stampeding through empty fields with you…Do I get to know where we’re going?”

“Nope!”  You can practically hear the grin in his voice -- pretty blue eyes crinkling, shining with mischief -- and you can hardly keep your own smile at bay when you shoot back. 

“It’s not nice to keep secrets you know.” 

He laughs at this, tugging you just a bit further until you reach the trees at the end of the field. He slows his pace, casting a look off into the distance for a moment before stopping completely. The transition is so abrupt that you hardly notice it until you’re stumbling into his back, although if it’s phased him, he doesn’t let on. He turns to face you, taking your free hand in his own and clasping them to his chest. He takes a step back, and then one more to pull you behind the trunk of a large oak. His eyes widen excitedly, tail swishing as he lowers his voice. 

“We,” he squeezes your hands assuringly,“Are going to a place for bleeding hearts like you and I. A place where all the poets ahead of their time retreated to draw inspiration from the glistening lakes and flowering dogwood.” 

He drops one of your hands, tugging you back into his chest as he gestures dramatically ahead. 

“For the sprawling beauty of nature is so often parodied in the arts of our modern society! Thus, in my everlasting endeavor to find sights that match your radiance,” he turns to you, smiling, “what better way to push forward than to plan a trip, spontaneous?” 

He pauses, casting a look back at you as though checking for your reaction. You look up at him, taking in the way the filtered sunlight lights up his features. To be admiring your partner at a time like this, you think, you really must be made for one another. You grin, and his eyes sparkle. 

“No time to waste then, huh?”  You duck out of his grasp, now tugging him by the hand through the burgeoning forest. Only you find yourself halted in your tracks, tugged back once more into Rocky’s chest. He spins the two of you around once, then twice, words falling freely from his lips. 

“Right you are! For while winter may have once rendered these lands inhospitable--” 

“Rocky--”

“Our current times have proven admissible--”

“Dear--” 

“The dogwood, the hawthorne, the little birds of tender wing--”

“You do know we’re still--” 

“Effloresce, quicken, take flight this very spring!” 

You sigh, shaking your head before shifting your impromptu waltz into an upbeat swing. Left, right, a skip and hop over the pebbles and rocks. A dance you’ve danced countless times before, despite the unfamiliar area. A twirl from your lover brings you back to him and out into the wilds yet again. 

“Let’s walk and talk dear,” you laugh, taking care to dance over the barely blooming flowers, “As much as I’d love to take in the sights on the way there, I don’t think the boys behind us are all too keen on smelling the roses.” 

He scoffs,  “Philistines, the lot of them. You know, had they not meddled with our shipment, we wouldn’t have had to cause such a scene with the gasoline.” He clicks his tongue, spinning the two of you yet again. “And really, all of this over a little arson?” 

“We’ve done more for less!”

#lackadaisy x reader #rocky rickaby x reader #roark rickaby x reader #lackadaisy imagines #lackadaisy rocky x reader #i love him. so much. this cat has attached himself to me like a leech and baby ive got blood to GIVE.

[a-midnight-rabbit-writes]

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Rook Hunt x Male!Reader

A lover of all things beautiful, Rook Hunt wouldn’t dream of shying away from the chance to watch you practice your newest figure-skating routine, sans invite, of course.

CW:  brief mention of past character death 

Word Count: 1171

A/N:  This drabble is brought to you by the yearly reawakening of my Yuri On Ice obsession

(Still patiently waiting for Ice Adolescence cuz I'm delulu)

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The spinning of the empty arena around you halted as your skates made contact with the ice again, gliding forward on its smooth, frozen surface as you prepared yourself for your next jump.  You could clearly see your breath in front of you, panting in the frigid air, as you realized that you were a bit more out of practice than you had previously thought.

An avid figure skater in your old world, though perhaps nothing overly extraordinary, you were no Olympian, it had been several months past your arrival at NRC when you had finally learned that Sage Island had a small ice skating rink of its own.  Skating around one of the school’s frozen ponds with your classmates on a rather nice day set in the deepest part of Winter you had mentioned in passing to the other freshmen that back in your world you had several years of experience on the ice, and had lamented the loss of your ability to continue with your regularly scheduled practice routine.  (Though surely your body was grateful for the temporary hiatus.)  Cue Epel dragging you down to the city center the following day, right up to the doors of the Sage Island Ice Rink.

It didn’t take you very long to become familiar with the owner of the rink, a kindly older woman who had been quite the figure skater herself in her youth, trophies and plaques displayed next to black and white photographs behind the skate rental counter, and who eventually gave you permission to come by the rink after closing whenever your homework load let up enough that you had the spare time to re-immerse yourself in your sport.

And so here you were, just you, the ice, your music playlist, and a lurking Rook Hunt who was not even trying to hide the fact that he was watching you skate.  Drifting backwards past the section where he was seated, a prime spot right in the front, you raised your eyebrows slightly at him in curiosity, receiving his signature cheery smile in return.  Shaking your head teasingly, you turned your attention back to the set you were currently working on.

You had been attempting to choreograph this one back home, to one of your favorite pieces of music, a lively piano and violin piece that you no longer had access to here in a whole different world.  Back then, you had been struggling with just how to fit together the last few pieces of your performance, somehow every time failing to compose it in a way that felt just right.  Yet right here you were twirling through the air and sliding across the ice in a perfectly seamless transition from one step to another, to a whole new musical composition, one you could have never heard until landing yourself in Twisted Wonderland.  As if it were some strange destiny that you bring your artistic vision to fruition only after having woken up in this peculiar, dangerous, beautiful land.  

Ever so graceful off of the ice, the last thing that you could remember before falling out of that magical coffin and into Night Raven College’s first year ceremony was tripping over your own feet in the arena locker room after a competition, the world abruptly going black as your head made harsh contact with the very edge of the changing room bench.  You would never admit this aloud to anyone though.  You knew that Ace would never let you live it down if he got word that you went out in such a way.

As the music slowly came to a finish, you found yourself sliding to a gentle stop at the edge of the arena, your skates stilling right in front of where your upperclassman was perched, no longer in his seat but instead leaning over the wall, chin resting in his hand, his intense emerald gaze fixed upon your figure.

“What a simply marvelous performance, Prince de la Glace.”  Rook exclaimed, as you braced your hands on your knees, letting your upper body droop as you caught your breath after such intense exercise.  “Such passion in your performance!  C’est trop bien!  Your confidence upon the ice has re-emerged like a bright spring flower blossoming through fallen snow.”

Anybody else wouldn’t have been able to tell if you were flushed from embarrassment, or from the stinging chill of the ice rink, but you were certain that Rook knew, with those uncanny green eyes that seemed to stare right past the surface every time the two of you happened to make eye contact.  (Which happened more frequently than you cared to admit.)  You supposed it could be unnerving, everyone else seemed to be in agreement that the Pomefiore vice housewarden was peculiar, to say the least.  Most tried to avoid him.  However, you were doubtful that there was ever a quarry that could elude the evasive hunter.  You must have been a bit odd yourself, not minding that you had caught his attention.

“You only ever visit the rink to watch me skate,” you remarked, standing yourself upright again, and meeting the hunter’s sharp eyes.  “Maybe you’d like to try it out for yourself for once?” 

You gestured to the small expanse of ice behind you.

Fetching a pair of ice skates in Rook's size, the other student allowed you to tie his laces for him before you led him out onto the ice. Skating in a group with friends had always been enjoyable, but this was something quite different. 

There was always something so much more intimate about sharing the ice with just one other person.  There was also the excitement at the thought that you might get to watch the normally graceful hunter fall flat on his ass.  Truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

You tried not to smile at the thought, prepared to aid your classmate should he end up sprawled on the ice.  Yet it turned out that the self-proclaimed Chasseur D’Amour was more sure on his feet than you had previously anticipated, remaining perfectly poised and balanced only a few steps behind you, leaving you to wonder if this was truly his first time on the ice as he had led you to believe.

Instead, it was you, the veteran figure skater, who lost your balance first, a surprised gasp stealing the air from your lungs as your feet slipped out from under you, sending you tumbling backwards.  In that split-second, you had prepared yourself for the jolting pain that usually came with such harsh contact with the frozen surface beneath you, however that moment never came to pass.  Instead of the frozen ice of the rink, you felt a warm pair of well muscled arms wrap around you, your back bumping against Rook’s chest as he caught you.

“Quelle tragédie!”  Rook exclaimed, his arms snug around your waist.  “It would appear that you have fallen for me, my dear Prince de la Glace!”

This time there would be no blaming your reddened cheeks on the ice.

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Thank you for reading! Likes/comments/reblogs always appreciated!!

🐇♥️🐇

#tumblr drabbles #twst drabbles #rook hunt #twst rook #rook hunt x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #nrc #yuu #pomefiore #figure skating fic

[valeffelees]

🧡 snowbaz, please

hi, Purple! 🖤 i chose the "kissing in bed" prompt for the orange heart, and i know i said i'd write a "drabble" but this is 500 words, i'm sorry. LOL, i hope this is okay!

Simon leans on the frame of the door. Dawn is curving between the curtains, drenching their bedroom in dim, pink sunlight. Baz is turned away from it, sleeping with their duvet twisted tight around his shoulders and his nose buried in Simon’s pillow. He always does that. Rolls into the warm, empty space Simon leaves behind every morning. Burrows against it like a daisy tilting towards the sun. London is a hum outside their window, but in the early silence of their flat, there is nothing but the shuffle of his footsteps on the carpet. The creak of the bedsprings as he kneels on the edge of the mattress. The hiss of the linens against his jeans. He brushes the hair back from Baz’s face. It’s all white in the front now—Baz had a real fucking bird over it two years ago when he noticed those first pale strands starting at his temples. (“Isn’t this a good thing? Y’know. Aging, yeah?”) (“Not at thirty, Snow! Nicks and fucking Slick, I’m going to look like my father.”) But Simon liked it, then, and he still likes it now. He likes the way it arches out from the peak of his hairline and frames his face during the day, and he likes the way it hangs like a wedding veil around them when Baz is bent over him at night. “Baz,” Simon says. Then, "Babe." “I’m sleeping,” Baz replies. Even as he slides a hand out from the duvet and takes hold of Simon’s wrist, brings his palm down to his mouth and kisses the slope of lines and scars and calluses he finds there. Baz is rough to touch. Rough with stubble on his chin, rough on his knuckles from all that fire magic burning through him, rough on the tip of each finger from two decades of violin. Simon likes that, too. How they scuff together sometimes. The scratch and cling of their skin. “You can keep sleeping,” Simon says. “I’m just saying goodbye.” Baz makes an unhappy sound in his throat. “I have to work.” “Boo,” Baz says. “Yeah, yeah.” Fourteen years is a long time, and a lot of things have changed, but kissing Baz isn’t one of them. He still does it with needy hands and flushed cheeks, with teeth and tongue and a lungful of cedar. Baz’s mouth is soft and clumsy and stale with sleep. The chill of him makes Simon shiver. “Gross,” Baz says without pulling back, his words moving right against Simon’s lips, “you taste like your shit coffee.” “You’re really going to complain about how my mouth tastes?” “You kissed me,” Baz says. “My breath isn’t my problem before eight-AM, Snow.” “Simon.” “Mr. Pitch.” Simon scoffs. “Go back to sleep,” he says, and kisses him again on the mouth, and then for a third time on the top of his head as Baz relaxes back into the duvet, into Simon’s pillow, into that pretty veil of white and black hair. “I’ll see you at four.” “Mhm.” He closes the gap in the curtains on his way out.

#i am the ceo of ''do you guys wanna play an ask game? [goes offline]'' lmfao #but i really love doing little prompts like this for people so thank you very kindly for coming to hang out 🥰🖤 #ask game #snowbaz #sketchbook apocalypse

[true--north]

Hi ❄️✨

Could you write a drabble about Iduna and Agnarr using the titanic scene where Jack draws Rose?

You know, Agnarr is drawing something and Iduna asks him to draw her wearing only the scarf. Please 🥺🩷

To be a prince meant to master all the seven liberal arts perfectly. To be able to play the piano or the violin, to know philosophy and theology, to be able to draw a statue or the ruins of a castle — all this Agnarr had to learn from childhood, whether he wanted to or not. And he was a diligent pupil.

But when a traveling painting exhibition from the Frankreich arrived in Arendelle, it was Iduna who was so excited to see the paintings. She persuaded Regent Peterssen to allow her and Agnarr to visit the exhibition, although the elderly lord was not a fan of modern art.

"Agnarr, look at how beautiful it is!" She was delighted and admired with ecstasy the forest landscapes and floral still lifes of bright colours.

"Yeah, very beautiful." Agnarr answered, smiling not at the paintings but at her as she grabbed him by is hand and dragged him to the next canvas.

"Can you draw that?" she showed him a picture of a ship in a stormy sea.

"Perhaps," Agnarr shrugged.

"And this? I know you're good at drawing!" Iduna asked enthusiastically about the painting depicting a majestic cathedral.

"Architecture? Yes, of course." Smirked Agnarr, shrugging again. He began to like this game.

"Oh... Can you do something like that?" Fascinated, Iduna stopped in front of a Greek-style drawing. A girl dressed only in a transparent drapery of red cloth was lying in a forest clearing, and a young man in a white tunic was bending over her for a kiss, in his hands a white lily.

Agnarr cleared his throat. "Ah, classic... Yes, I was taught that." He suddenly felt hot and stuffy.

Iduna was holding his hand, she was standing very close to him and looking at him with the same look as the girl in the picture. "Come on, Iduna, there are a lot of other paintings here." He hastily took her aside.

"Agnarr, I want to have a drawing from you as a keepsake. Promise me you'll draw something for me! I think I'm in love with art." She smiled sweetly. Agnarr could not refuse her.

That evening he remembered her request again.

Taking off his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves, he settled down on an armchair with an album and a sanguine in his hands. "What would I draw for Iduna?" the prince thought, "Iduna..." He thought about her so often, Iduna was the closest person to him. And so the idea came very easily: he decided to draw a forest landscape for her. For some reason, Iduna was associated with the forest, autumn leaves, cool wind. Agnarr imagined the most enchanted and dreamy of the woods he could imagine and began putting the first touches on the paper.

Carried away, he did not immediately hear a quiet knock on the door. It was repeated.

"You may come in, the door is open." he replied, without taking his eyes off the drawing where the outlines of birches and flowers have already begun to appear.

He suspected that it could be servants or Peterssen. But it was Iduna.

"Agnarr, do you remember that you promised to give me a drawing?" She asked, sneaking in to his living room.

"Of course, but—" Agnarr was a little upset that Iduna might notice his gift before it was finished. He raised his head to look at her, and lost the ability to speak.

Iduna stood naked in front of him, covered only with a soft burgundy cloth; her long, lush chestnut curls scattered over her shoulders, an excited expression on her face.

"I—Iduna?" he asked softly, astonished.

"You seem to be blushing terribly, Your Royal Highness." Iduna giggled and lay down on the sofa in front of him, allowing the fabric to gently emphasize her curves. "I want you to draw me as the girl in that painting."

"Iduna, I can't..." he lowered his eyes with an effort despite all the blast of attraction that he has felt at the sight of her. But as a gentleman, he should give her the opportunity to change her mind and never remember about this situation again.

"You can't? But Agnarr, you said yourself that you can easily draw classics?" Iduna reproduced the romantic pose of the heroine, wishing with secret fear that he would not kick her out and reject her.

"Well, technically I can..."

"So what's the matter?" she smiled innocently.

"Nothing." he managed to say and turned the page of the album.

"Be professional, be not a fool in love who saw the woman he loves for the first time....in some damned shawl and nothing else?" ordered Agnarr to himself. "Professionalism, and nothing more."

Casting a quick glance at Iduna, he sketched the outline of her figure, but in order for it to become like a real academic drawing, he will have to really look at her. It was a torture. Her stockingless leg hung over the edge of the sofa, her white skin glowed in the pearly light of a white summer night when the sun does not set in the west but stays on the horizon like a glowing red ball.

"Move your hand a little to the left," Agnarr asked in a low voice, and Iduna obeyed him. "And...it is necessary to raise your chin a little." She did as he said, her eyes half-closed, lips smiling at him.

Agnarr wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and applied a few strokes, hatching the shadows in the drawing. It was becoming really beautiful. Agnarr tried as best he could, adding details and highlights; although seeing and depicting how the tips of her soft hair touched the hemispheres of her breasts barely covered with patterned fabric....Being an artist was definitely harder than being a prince, and that was news for Agnarr.

"By the way, what is this? Some kind of a scarf or...?" he asked her to distract himself from her shoulders and neck.

"Yes, it's a shawl left over from my family," Iduna replied quietly.

"It's very beautiful."

"It's magical."

Agnarr laughed softly.

Finally, after a quarter of a very long and heated hour, the drawing was ready. Agnarr was proud of it, it seems he really managed to capture all the charm of Iduna in this etude. He turned the album to her and Iduna beamed when she saw his work.

"Oh, Agnarr, it's so gorgeous!" She smittenly looked at his concentrated flushed face, at his fingers smeared with brown dust from the sanguina chalks. "But something is missing. In the picture, the girl was not alone, her beloved was with her and wanted to kiss her..."

Agnarr, irresistibly drawn to her, left the album on the chair and stood knelt in front of her; put his hand on her waist and bent over Iduna's lips.

#agduna #drabble

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

Loceit Week Day 5: AU

@loceitweek2022

This is inspired by a headcanon and story ideas I've been talking about with @red-imeanblue 💛 I hope you like it doll! 😊💛

A musician AU where Janus is a up and coming violin player, and Logan is a cello prodigy who now perform together 😊💛💙

Art taglist: @red-imeanblue @lost-in-thought-20 @jwillowwolf @the-duke-of-nuts @diamondwind99 @psychedelicships

Thank you @the-duke-of-nuts for this little drabble idea 😊💚🖤💚 (Technically for yesterday's prompt, but it works here too 😊)

The music came to an end, Janus and Logan looked at each other and smiled as they finished the final note together, bows raised.

The audience immediately began to applaud, loud cheers filled the auditorium while Janus and Logan stood up. Janus took Logan's arm, linking it in his and they bowed together before turning to thank the rest of the orchestra behind them. There was still one piece to go, but that would have to wait until after the interval.

Logan took his cello and Janus grasped his violin as they both walked off stage together. The adrenaline finally hit and they cheered walking into the green room. They put the instruments down carefully then finally collapsed into the seats provided.

"I must say, you performed exceptionally in that first half." Logan commented, then smirked when he saw a faint blush spread across Janus' cheeks.

"Oh please, if we're going to discuss pristine performances, we must talk about how you played just now." Janus smirked in return as he managed to make Logan blush. They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments before Janus piped up again.

"Two truths and a lie. One; I own snakes. Two; I learnt the violin purely to impress you. Three; My favourite movies are in black and white." Logan stared at Janus trying to detect the lie, he had never been more thankful for his poker face.

"Number two, I'm certain of it." Janus chuckled, knowing that was the answer Logan would pick, he shook his head as Logan raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"I'm afraid I don't like black and white movies." He got out of the chair and knelt down next to Logan, who was finally realising what Janus was saying.

"You... You really learnt the violin just to impress me? Why" Logan asked curiously and Janus gently put his hand over Logans.

"I came and watched you play in this very auditorium five years ago. When we bumped into each other afterwards and talked... I wanted to get closer to you, and the best way for me to do that was through music. So I learnt how to play violin, found out I was good at it and gradually followed your footsteps until I worthy enough to play alongside you... It was all a perfect way to get to know you better." Janus confessed, admitting more than he initially wanted to, but the admiration dancing in Logan's eyes was worth it.

Logan leant closer to Janus and Janus could feel himself gravitating towards Logan too, the gravitational pull between them was too strong. They were merely centimetres apart before the call came out from the corridor.

"We're on! Back to seats everyone!"

Both of them signed as they pulled away from each other, they sheepishly grinned before picking up their instruments and headed to the door. Janus sneakily pressed a kiss to Logan's cheek causing a gasp from the cellist.

"Give the performance of your life and we'll pick up where we left off when we've finished." Janus said teasingly as Logan could only nod.

They linked their arms once again and headed off onto the stage, ready to play not only for the audience, but for each other.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #ts logan #ts janus #loceit #pre romantic loceit #musician au #loceitweek2022 #ts fanart #ts fandom #ts drabble #ts fanfic

[bozepomagaj]

July 21st

Summary: It's Vash's birthday! But it seems like he's not the only one celebrating.

A/N: finally I get to do some angst. This short drabble focuses more on Nai because UGH I just love him. Also it takes place in the Tristamp universe at an unspecified time. This wasn't proof read so there might be some mistakes here and there (lowk this was also pretty rushed)

Cw: mentions of vomit, descriptions of food&blood, consumption of blood with food

Word count: 0.8k

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In Jeneora Rock, a small and humble party was prepared. Today was none other than Vash the Stampedes birthday, and everyone deserves some extra special attention on that day. Vash was sitting on a small wooden chair, in front of him, a tiny white cake which began melting from the heat, but he didn't mind. He didn't mind that the little fondant figure on top of the cake didn't look like him at all. He didn't mind that the decorations placed around the small house were crooked and began falling apart. No, he didn't mind any of that. Because for the first time in what felt like forever, someone remembered him. Someone thought about him, and someone cared enough about him to do all this. He wanted to cry the moment he entered the room and saw a piece of paper that hung from the ceiling, his name written on it, but he held back the tears. He can cry all he wants when this party is over, holding onto these memories like a lifeline. As all of his dearest friends sing him his birthday song, he sways his body to the rhythm of it, pretending it's a beautiful symphony of violins and pianos created by angels themselves. Once it's done, they all sit down and begin to cut the cake. The slices had to be thin, but it was just enough to him. It tasted perfect. And just like that, they laugh the birthday away, a momentary respite from all the horros that await him outside of this small room.

🕯🕯🕯

Meanwhile, on the other side of the desert, a man stood. A perfect, large white cake with not a single speck of dirt on it layed in the middle of the table, shielding his view from the other side of the empty table. The candles almost completely melted, but he just stood there, silently watching. Surrounded with pictures of Vash, of Vash and him, when times were better and Vash didn't tremble in fear whenever he saw him.

"Happy Birthday Kni and Vash!"

But there was no Vash.

He wasn't here. It was only Knives. And Knives hated food. But for today he'd pretend to be human for Vash. There was no reason for him to do it, to chow down on this cake so greedily. But Knives knew that if Vash was here watching him, he'd be delighted.

But there was no Vash.

He slowly slid the cake towards himself. He gently holds a knife and cuts a generous piece for himself and puts it on his iron plate. He takes a bite. It's disgusting. The taste of cheap sugar fills his senses, it's far too much for him to handle. But he swallows. He imagines Vash on the other side of the table, smiling at him, telling him 'Good job' for finally trying human food.

But there was no Vash.

He begins chewing faster, to get rid of the taste. He swallows. But it lingers, it lingers like the image of Vash in front of him. After eating that slice, he cuts himself another. Tears threaten to pool over. It tastes revolting, he wants to throw up. It's far too sweet, the texture of the fondant is too dense and sticks to his teeth, the cake itself isn't moist and makes him want to cough, almost like he's eating sandpaper but he bites. He bites as hard as he can. He doesn't even notice that he bit his lip, blood mixing into the mess of fondant and cake that was in his mouth making it taste even more repulsive. If Vash was here, he'd jump to his brothers side, concerned for him and immediately wipe away the blood.

But there was no Vash.

He doesn't care anymore. He grabs the entire cake and begins shoving it in his own face, each and every bite getting more painful. He's biting his fingers, his nails, his tongue, his lips but he doesn't notice the physical pain, only the pain of knowing that once he looks to the other side of the table, once he eats the horrible human creation in front of him, he won't see Vash there. Vash would probably be disturbed by this gruesome sight anyways, turning his head away from his own brother. Was that it? Was he always like this to Vash? To humans? A disturbing, bloodied creature hunting down his brother like he wants to eat him? A creature so consumed by greed that he'd eat an entire cake while his brother watches, not leaving a single slice for him? Vile thoughts about self-hatred fill his mind, it's his birthday, HIS special day so why does he feel like everything is wrong?

He finishes the cake, his throat feels like it's burning. Everything tasted the same to him, even his own blood was overly sweet to him. He sat there, cake on his face, body, hands. He finally summons enough courage to look at the other side of the table. It was completely clean. A carefully cut, almost perfect slice still on the plate.

Because Vash wasn't there.

#trigun #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #vash #knives #millions knives #nai #vash and knives #happy birthday vash and nai! #despite the angst just know I still love them both deeply LMAO

[claudia-nomusaabara]

This drabble was from earlier this year when I had to borrow @the-melting-world 's Solo just so I can have him and Javier dancing together.

Thank you girl!

Two In Time

Javier moved in time with his dance partner and the violin, his right hand clasped Solo's white manicured hand while his left circled Solo's trim waist. Javi lightly grips the material of the dress around her waist, feeling cool white silk and pearls on his fingers.

Javi cocks a grin at Solo gliding effortlessly with him and the other dancers across the ballroom, "You move so well. This gown moves like it's weightless."

Solo chuckles and Javi's heart skips at its purity, "It just comes naturally. I've been making dresses my whole, it's only natural I learn how it moves. It's the same with your shoes Mr. Navarro, clothes can look good AND functional at the same time. Remember that."

Javi laughs heartily, his eyes crinkling at the corners beneath his mask as he spins Solo in time with the other dancers, "I'll be sure to remember that!"

He saw Solo's eyes shine with amusement beneath her swan mask, her smile spreading across her face "You better."

Javier brought Solo back to him, noticing the lack of space between them. Unsure whether it was him, Solo's doing, or both he wasn't complaining.

The smell of light Jasmine wafting from her neck and the spice of blood orange cologne from him made it impossible for Javier to ignore how well they fit together.

His light brown eyes traced Solo's visible features. Her lips were decorated pale pink and what he could see of her cheeks beneath the mask were too. Her cerulean hair swept over the right side of her face, standing her out from the crowd.

Solo glanced shyly away from him and he realized how much he had been staring.

Javier leaned close to Solo's ear his cheek brushing his hair back a little, surprised at his shyness, "I...I'm happy you came tonight."

He felt Solo's strong hand cradle the back of his neck lighting his skin on fire, "Thank you for inviting me. I know there were probably a lot of people banging down your door."

"Not the ones I'm interested in."

"Even the ones that had their eyes on you since we walked in?"

Javier pulled back from Solo's ear, looking deep into her eyes, he reluctantly let go of Solo's hand to lightly cup his chin. Lifting her eyes to gaze at his, softly talking to her, "What if I told you...yours are the only ones I see?"

#solo the seamstress #the seamstress and the cobbler #javier navarro #The context is they're at the masquerade in Muriel's route re-write #I think #Maybe another important dance #the-melting-world

[blondthndrninja]

Just an adorable little drabble I wrote if Nami and Law were having a wedding. Let’s face it, it wouldn’t be some simple affair if it happened. 

Of course, she had been aware that the wedding would be a big affair. Not because she wanted it that way but because her captain would make it so…just like he had when she’d officially become engaged to his greatest ally Trafalgar D. Water Law. It had been a bit of a shock when she had learned what his true name was, but he was much more open about sharing things with her since they had gotten to know each other better and he learned that she had been adopted by a marine mother. She sat in the dressing room looking out the window at the sea.

“You’re not getting cold feet are you?” a playful voice asked and Nami turned around to look at the dark haired woman who was wearing a dark blue dress.

Nami shook her head, “Just thinking how much things will change after today….I won’t….I won’t just be Cat Thief Nami, the navigator of the Straw Hats.”

“Actually, you still will be…they’ll just have to add Trafalgar to the bounty posters.” Robin chuckled.

Nami frowned, “That’s another problem…my bounty is probably going to skyrocket after today.”

“Any sane Marine wouldn’t dare to go after a Strawhat Pirate these days, let alone one married to the Surgeon of Death.”

“I guess so.” Nami said standing up, “I’m just glad Vivi is letting us stay in her palace in Alabasta. God knows we’d never have privacy on the Sunny or Tang.” She then grabbed the bouquet of sunflowers, “I guess it’s time now.”

Robin smiled brightly, “You’re right��I’ll go find a seat. Something tells me I’m going to have my hands full passing out tissues.” Between Franky’s emotional sobbing and Sanji’s desire to object to the wedding she was going to be busy. Law’s own crew would probably need tending to as well as they’d practically flooded the Polar Tang with tears of joy when they learned of their captain’s intentions to marry Nami.

She stepped out of the room and made her way down the hall towards a familiar male with a straw hat wearing a dark suit with a red shirt. “Luffy!”

Her captain looked at her and grinned, “Oi Nami, there you are! Wow, how are you supposed to poop in that dress?”

She whacked him over the head with her bouquet, “What the hell kind of question is that?!”

“Shishishishi! I was kidding!” Luffy said and then put his arm around her, “Listen, I know he isn’t your husband yet but I’ll kick Tora-o’s ass if he hurts you.”

“I know.” Nami said as she leaned into his embrace trying not to cry. Luffy had been nothing but supportive of her relationship with the captain of the Heart Pirates and when Law had made it clear his intention to marry Nami he’d interpreted it as Law becoming part of a big happy family.

“Oh! The doors are opening!” Luffy said and the sound of Brook playing ‘The Bridal Chorus on his violin flooded her ears. He moved his arm and grabbed her hand, “C’mon Nami, let’s get you married!”

Nami laughed at his and adjusted herself so that she was holding onto the bouquet with both hands and her white veil fell in front of her face, “Aye, Captain.”

#drabble #op #opfanfic #LawNa #LawNami #Nami #Trafalgar Law #wedding fic #fluffy #you know there would be tears #they deserve to be happy #they all do #one piece fic

[washingmachinegirly]

Dying Light 2 Hakon x OC Drabble

i cannot for the life of me find any Hakon fanfiction so i wrote some myself.

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“Just entertain yourself while I try to fix the generators. Don’t touch anything. Got it?”

Frank told them the community was running out of supplies, and the surrounding areas were dry.

Sabine said that she knew somewhere untouched by any other survivors. She offered to go and retrieve the supplies.

Hakon said he would go along with her.

Now that they were here, it was clear she did not want to be here and didn’t want Hakon here either.

“Yes, ma’am.”

That’s how the man found himself in the woman’s bedroom. It was untouched for 15 years, like a time capsule. Looking around, he could see both the personality and the lack of personality in the room. The walls are stark white and only hold a handful of decorations, but the room holds many CDs, DVDs, and books. The CDs and DVDs intrigue him but are useless unless the generators work. So he makes his way to the bookshelf.

Looking through the bookshelf, he sees a variety of books. LSAT practice books, D.I.Y. books, law books, history books, and romance books. He would have never pegged Sabine to be the romantic type. He takes a book off the shelf titled “A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime” and opens it to a random page.

“It’s been three years, four months, two days, and a handful of hours since the first moment I set my eyes on her. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. The absolute bane of my existence.” He reads aloud from the book and then laughs to himself. The lines are cliche, but he can’t argue against them. They were romantic and something he probably would say himself.

Above the bookcase, he finds a dead plant. Peering around the rest of the room, he finds many dead plants. Most likely unwatered. Who would have stayed around to water them anyways? On top of the bookcase is an ornate tea set. Picking up the teapot and dusting it off, he realizes it is handmade and old. It would probably sell for a pretty penny. Juan would practically salivate over it. He would never tell Sabine about selling to Juan, though. That guy is her number one enemy. The stick up her ass.

Walking along the wall, he comes upon a dresser. On top of the dresser, he finds a music box. After cranking the knob on the back and opening the box up, hoping for music. Unfortunately, no music sings, and the ballerina remains stagnant. Inside the box, he finds only a plastic rhinestone choker and plastic diamond earrings. The type of jewelry competitive performers would wear back in the day. He then picks up a violin case and opens it. Inside sits a beautiful, untouched violin. It shines against the sunlight peeking through the window. He wonders if Sabine would play for him and if she is as good as she claims. Beside the violin is a picture of a girl and a dog. He picks up the photograph to get a better look. Upon inspection, he realizes it is a picture of a much younger Sabine and a dog. The dog looks to be an Australian Shepard. Sabine had the massive dog in her arms. They were both smiling at each other.

Hakon has never seen her smile like that. He smiles to himself and places the framed photo back onto the dresser. Walking away from the dresser, the man comes face-to-face with a large mirror that takes over almost an entire wall. It had been long since he’d seen his reflection so clearly, in broad daylight. He takes in how greasy his hair and skin look.

“My god, am I graying?” He asks himself as he steps closer to the mirror and ruffles his hair around.

He takes in the new scars on his face, neck, and hands. Some are faint and will probably disappear in a week or so. Others are deep, leaving an indent in his skin. One scar, in particular, is deeper than the rest. It goes from the top right of his forehead, through the eyebrow, past his eye, over the nose, and stops in the middle of his left cheek. Despite the lasting mark, he supposes he should be thanking Sabine. If not for her, it’d be a hell of a lot more than a scar.

Hakon was cornered between two skyscrapers by a pack of renegades. He had thought it was an easy enough job to handle alone. Obviously, he was very wrong. As the renegades approached him, they laughed and sneered in his face.

“No one to save you now, runner.”

Soon enough, Hakon felt the cold concrete hit his back. He could have and should have gone the other way, but no, he’s always looking for trouble. As he scolded himself, a renegade approached him with a knife. Hakon imagined that behind the mask, the man was smiling as he raised his blade. Hakon closed his eyes, ready to face his death. Only a fool like him would perish like this.

Yet the blade only scratched him. When he opened his eyes, in front of him, he found the guy dead on the ground. Looking up, he saw Sabine fighting off the other four.

“Are you going to keep staring at me like an idiot, or are you going to help me?”

Hakon chuckles to himself as he thinks back on the memory. Despite his gray hair and ugly scars, he must still have charisma if he’s lucky enough for a girl like Sabine to save him.

He moves to the other wall, gazing at all the items hanging upon it. While the trophies and medals are pretty shiny in the sun, Hakon’s eyes draw toward the other ornaments on the wall.

First, he finds the drawing of the dog. It must be the same dog from the framed photo on the dresser. Getting a closer look, he notices the message on the bottom.

“For my favorite sister. P.S. I miss you! And so does Clementine. Please come home soon! - Chrys”

The man chuckles to himself. He can’t imagine the 15-year-old Chrysanthemum he knows being so young. She couldn’t even spell her name! She must have been around 4 or 5. Despite the childlike innocence, it makes him sad as he remembers how young she was when it happened. Still, in spite of all the world’s hardships, Sabine’s sister was able to keep a bit of her childishness. Hakon’s eyes wander over to the family photo.

A childishness Sabine never seemed to have.

All the people in the photo seem to be emotionless. They were all flat-faced yet held the smallest air of contentment. After a closer inspection of the 15-year-old Sabine, Hakon decides that Sabine is and was nothing like her sister. She sat in front of her parents, knees together, back straight, and heads in her lap. Her lips were a flat line, slightly curved at the edges, and her eyes seemed sad.

Hakon decides to move on to the collage of photos.

When looking at the photos, a gust of déjà vu hits his face.

The collage contains four photos in total. The first photo was a group photo with three girls in a cab. Hakon recognized Sabine in the middle of the other two girls. The taxi cab and scene looked all too familiar. In the second photo, he realized why it was so familiar.

It was his taxi cab, the one he drove before all hell broke loose.

He is looking at a photo of his younger self with the three girls. As he stares at the picture with the seriousness of a detective, the day returns to him in broken fragments.

The girls had all hopped into his cab, giggling with each other. He was a bit weary of them, but Sabine claimed they had money and to just drive. Despite his weariness, he was bored, so he obliged. As he “drove” through the traffic in the city, he eavesdropped on the girls’ conversation and watched their theatrics. He would have been lying if he said it wasn’t entertaining. Sabine caught onto him and asked if he wanted in on the photos and fun. He should have said no and done his job, but he was never that kind of guy. He was young and looking for something fun to happen, so he said yes.

Sabine dragged him into the photo, smiling cheekily. She leaned over the console to take over his radio system to change the music. She told him he had shit music taste, which he scoffed at, but she was right.

Sabine also dragged him and the girls to a karaoke bar. At first, they had just ordered a few drinks and watched the other drunk barhoppers sing on the stage. Within 10 minutes of being at the bar, the girls found themselves on the stage, performing an America’s Got Talent-worthy performance of Wannabe by the Spice Girls. That’s when Hakon took the third photo with Sabine’s camera. After that, the girls all took turns performing solos, allowing the other bar-goers to squeeze in once in a while.

A couple more drinks in, Sabine convinced Hakon to sing with her. That’s where the fourth photo came from, courtesy of one of Sabine’s friends. He never learned their names. After his and Sabine’s first performance, the night got a little blurry.

Hakon is amazed that he remembers that much from almost 15 years ago. He is even more amazed that he’s known Sabine long before the fall. He thought he would have remembered a girl like her, but life gets busy. Extremely busy, according to the events of the last 15 years.

Static comes from his left, and he’s broken from his stunning trance. Looking over, he finds an old TV turned on. Sabine must have got the generators on. While the TV is on, Hakon doesn’t suppose there’s cable TV anymore. To delight, he does find a collection of DVDs and VHS tapes under the TV. He kneels to get a closer look at the collection. Most of the tapes seem to be performance videos, most likely of dances. Sabine had never talked about it, but judging by the trophies, medals, and dance equipment, Hakon could guess she used to be a competitive dancer. He was very familiar with those girls and their families, having to drive them around in his cab during competition season. None of the tapes interested him, but a CD labeled “My Final Bow: Video Diary” sure did. He isn’t normally one to go through people’s diaries, but he is willing to make an expectation for a closed-off girl like Sabine. Besides, a photo that falls out of the CD case tells him the video probably has to do with him. The photo is a blurry, candid picture of Sabine and Hakon. Her short arm stretched out to fit them both in the camera’s border as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. Hakon doesn’t remember that part of the night. He doubts Sabine does either. After one last glance at the photo, he puts the CD into the TV’s CD port.

The video was a simple collection of clips taken on the same night as the photos. It showed the girls racing toward the cab and jumping inside. They were giggling the whole time. The clip transitioned to the girls in a heated conversation about god knows what, but Hakon heard himself laughing in the background. The video then jumped late into the night. It showed various moments of the group’s karaoke performances. Sabine’s show to the song Circus by Britney Spears. Hakon and Sabine’s duet to Love Shack by The B-52’s. One of the other girl’s performances of Love Story by Taylor Swift. The rest of the video was a blur of the night, the liveliness of the filmers altering the video. It showed Sabine and the girls jumping around and laughing. Soon enough, the clips were coming to an end. Each clip showed Hakon dropping off the girls at their respective hotels. At each stop, Sabine would hug the girl with all her might and wave goodbye to them until they were out of the camera’s sight. Sabine was the last one to be dropped off. The final clip shows Sabine waving toward Hakon as he drives away. Then the video cuts to black.

“ I thought I told you not to touch anything.”

Sabine’s voice causes Hakon to jump from his seat on the ground. Behind him, Sabine stands leaning against the doorway. She crosses her arms, and her eyes look angry, but she has a small smile on her lips.

“How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to watch the entire video with you.”

Hakon stares at her as he stands up. He looks past her, deep in thought, then turns to look at the TV and back at her.

“Do you remember any of that night?”

“I didn’t recognize the guy was you until now if that’s what you’re asking. You look a hell of a lot uglier now.” She smirks at him. “You’re a hell of a lot more annoying too.” He rolls his eyes.

Hakon has a million questions rolling through his head right now. What happened to her after that night? Who are the other girls? Does she remember anything from that night that he doesn’t? Why aren’t other photos of friends and adventures in her childhood bedroom? Despite his million questions, he knew Sabine wouldn’t answer them. Looking up at her, he sees her fiddling with the straps on her jacket. She was scared he would ask her questions. Try to pry into her personal life. Something she’s been clear about not wanting since the day she joined his group. He’d respect her wishes, but still…

“Why’d you keep this photo?” He questions as he picks up the photo off the ground.

It was unlike the Sabine he knows now to keep a photo like that. It was unlike her to take that photo or to kiss him in the first place. He imagines Sabine would gag at even the thought of getting close to him. He hopes his question will tell him a bit about her without directly asking her about her past.

Sabine approaches Hakon to take a look at the photo. After a glance, she scoffs, rolling her eyes before snatching the photo from his hand.

Still, he looks at her with probing eyes.

“…I think if things went differently after that night, I’d be a fun girl to be around. I’d be the life of the party.” Sabine contends as she stares around her old bedroom, reminiscing.

Certainly an odd answer from the Sabine he knows. He feels like that may just be the most backward, vulnerable answer he could have gotten from Sabine, but he’ll take it. Any glimpse into her as a person was a win to him.

“I think you’re pretty fun. I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t, would I?”

Sabine looks at him for a while, pondering his answers. Just when Hakon thinks he might get another genuine answer from the woman, she laughs while rolling her eyes and then turns her back on him.

“Come on. We need to clear the basement and the rest of the house now if we want to leave before nightfall. I don’t want to spend the night here.”

Hakon chuckles to himself as he follows her out the door. He’ll have to remember to grab the photos and violin before they leave. Though Sabine insisted her room be left alone, he feels these items are worth her ripping him a new one the next day.

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disclaimer: i know nothing about dying light 2 besides minimal research on the wiki and watching slimecicle play it. i know even less about dying light, having never watched, so there are probably a lot of inaccuracies. i just wrote this bc i thirst for hakon and i needed a muse for my creative writing assignment. also the format may be weird bc i copy and pasted it from my creative writing draft.

#dying light oc #dying light frank #dying light juan #dying light fanfiction #dying light stay human #dying light fandom #dying light game #dying light 2 #dying light hakon #dying light 2 hakon #dl2 hakon #hakon x oc #hakon x reader #oc #drabble #fanfiction #apocalypse #apocalypse game #slimecicle #slime charlie #dying light hakon x reader #dying light 2 hakon x reader

[darkmatter-nebula]

Colli and Collector have a sugar rush.

Hi! Thanks for the request!

Drabble: Godly Sugar Rush

It was a quiet evening on the Boiling Isles. Even though, it shouldn't stay quiet. Raine, who was babysitting their precious Little Songbird, had to deal with Colli and his interdimensional counterpart having a massive sugar rush!

Colli, who was hyperactive, was flying in lightspeed through the room. The sweethearted starboy with fluffy lavender hair was brightly smiling. As for Collector, the white haired little god was laughing manically. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Raine was brainstorming what to do. Then, the bard got an idea. They began to play a little lullaby on their violin. In Colli's case, it worked wonders. The kindhearted celestial boy landed in his baba's arms and fell asleep.

As for Collector, as soon as he noticed the peacefully sleeping Colli, he slowly got tired and drifted off to sleep as well. "Oh, thank Titan!" Raine whispered and tucked Colli and Collector in. "Sweet dreams, you two!" Raine said and gave both little gods soft cheek kisses.

The End

#lost but now found au #the collector #raine whispers #fanfic

[orshii]

Black Rose

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

Warnings: cursing, brief mention of death

Word count: 3,7 k

Summary: Hongjoong is your world. And you are his. He’d do anything for you, especially when your toxic ex decides to make an appearance after your last ballet show, which is also a closure.

A/N: Hey-ho, so I wrote this drabble today, as I am still obsessed with Hongjoong, thank you very much...And just to mention, I have no idea about ballet, I tried my best to write about it, I was always interested in it, but I just observed it from far away all the time. Anyways, I think we all need a Hongjoong to our lives, who is going to be by your side, no matter what. Now I'm going to cry in the corner. :') Enjoy! xoxo, orshii. (divider)

It was a quiet afternoon I was seating in my boyfriend's blue Maserati, as I looked to my right side and I saw the love of my life smiling as he was focusing on the road ahead. I slowly reached my left hand towards the back of his head to ran my finger through his blonde hair, his smile got bigger on the touch, his pretty teeth showing. I smiled at him, I never felt happier in my life. Hongjoong was the person, who saved me, got me out from the dark, so I couldn't fall deeper and I can't be grateful enough for him, for being by my side. He slowly took my hand from his hair and lifted it to his thin rosy lips, to peck my knuckles very gently, like his lips were a feather and it landed on the ground. His sharp jaw line showing in the process, his beautifully shaped cat-like eyes focusing on the road ahead. That was the time when I got the time to check him out, very innocently. He was wearing black elegant jeans with a white turtle-neck blouse and on top a coat that was colored beige, a few accessories like rings and earrings accompanying his whole outfit. He had a natural sense for fashion, that is why he was studying fashion and design, so someday he can be a well-known designer. And I am very proud, that I can be on his side in the whole process. I'm going to support him no matter what, just as he did with me since the days I was down, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out from the deep and dirty pit.

We were heading to my year-end ballet performance; this was my final show and then I'm going to put down the ballet shoes for good. I think with this last show I'm going to complete the unsaid desires of my heart. It was a closure for me and for my little sister, who died just when we stepped into our teenage years. A cruel disease took her from us, she was just a girl with big dreams, but the world was merciless enough so she couldn't complete her destiny. Since then, the world stopped to spin for me and my family as well. After years, we somehow managed to stand up, but we weren't fully aware of the world still.

Ballet was my sister's big dream, to be a famous ballerina, known by the whole world. Our parents signed us together to ballet classes, my desire was always to be a hip-hop dancer, but our parents wanted to sign us together, so we needed to choose, hip-hop or ballet, looking into my little sister's eyes, I had no other choice than to choose ballet. After she died, I was ready to give up on ballet as I wasn't feeling it anymore without my sister. But somehow, I couldn't let it go, I felt like I needed to complete my sister's dream and keep going. That was why I didn’t give up on it and continued dancing. It kind of always calmed my thoughts down and I couldn't focus on else other than the violin and piano sounds melting into each other. I always felt like I am the Black Swan and my little sister is the White Swan, we were complete opposites, but it wasn’t a problem. With this last show, I feel like this is the time where I can close it down, I think I reached what I wanted, and it's time to focus on my dream after seven years of trying to complete my precious little sister's dream. It was worth it, because I think without ballet, I couldn’t get over my sister's death ever, because all the time I was dancing on the stage with elegancy and outcounted steps, self-control being my biggest enemy, I always saw her in front of me, as she was showing me the steps I needed to do.

We reached the theater where I'm going to perform and Hongjoong parked the car slowly. He jumped out from the car, before I could, and ran to my door just to open it.

I chuckled as I stepped out and took his offering hand. "Thank you, you are so kind, my prince." I smiled at him genuinely, bending my knees in a plié.

He took my hand, closed the door and pulled me closer to him, my chest hitting his chest in the impact.

"Anything for my princess." His smile reached his eyes, showing his crescent eyes, that I adored so much. He slowly hovered his lips against mine, ghosting there, his breathing calming me down, as I always felt nervous before a show. His lips touched mine like a feather, pecking it slowly and reassuringly.

"Are you ready?" He asked, his eyes full with worry, he knew how important this performance was for me.

I breathed in and out slowly, the fresh air reaching my lungs, filling every inch there.

I nodded. "I think, I am." I smiled at him.

He was holding my waist now, pulling me closer "You can do it, I'm so proud of you, Y/N!" He reached his right hand to my cheek and caressed gently. "I'm going to watch you from the front row, I won't take my eyes off of you, okay? I'm going to be there." He whispered onto my lips as he leaned his forehead against mine.

I felt like I wanted to cry, I couldn't imagine a more perfect person beside me, sometimes I felt like I didn’t really deserve him. But he was here by my side, and I needed to appreciate that. I never, ever felt more in love, like right now.

I stared into his eyes with loving eyes, I could watch him all day, I would never get bored. "Thank you so much, Joong, I'm so grateful to have you." I reached my hand to his wrist which still held my face. I rubbed my face into his touch, as I felt like I'm going to melt into his hands like honey.

He just smiled at me sweetly, I could see the unconditional love in his eyes, as he pecked my lips, once, twice, never wanting to stop. "I love you!" He whispered between the light kisses he gave me. He kissed my cheeks, my forehead, my nose and then my lips again.

I chuckled from the sudden attention, his kisses making me tickle. I nuzzled my nose against his as I smiled at him. "I love you too, Joong!"

If somebody was watching us, from the outside, they would see two young souls not being able to separate from each other as their love just started to bloom, never wanting to wither. And that was the actual truth.

After I seperated from the love of my life I rushed into the changing room, so I could dress up into my pretty black tutu that was decorated with black feathers, the top and the tights fitting tightly to my shape, some glitters and blue gemstones on it. Tonight, we are going to perform the Swan Lake and I'm going to be the Black Swan. This masterpiece is very unique and mesmerizing. I was very honored to dance this role, as this was my sister’s dream, to dance alongside with me, a tale that was about twin sisters. One is white, full with hope and light, the other is black, full with evilness and darkness. She wanted us to dance it in front of the world together. But now, I needed to be both and dance both sides gracefully, without my sister, I wanted to complete that, even if she wasn’t here with us.

 As I got my make-up done, the point was on my eyes, as it was all black and smoky reaching my temple, symbolizing the wings of the black swan, my hair was in a tight bun, and a black, glittery, beautifully shaped crown was sitting on my head, designed with blue gemstones, matching with the ones on my dress. I put on my black ballet shoes, for the last time and stepped out on the stage, in to the dark. I breathed in and out, just to calm myself and prepare for the wave of emotions that I always experienced through my performances. My partner, San and my best friend, as well, took my hand and escorted me into the middle of the stage. San was my best friend since we started dancing, he was made for ballet, his broad shoulders could easily lift you up like a feather, he was very graceful, despite being a man. He was always conscious about his partner, never wanting the other to feel uncomfortable. This is why we got along very quickly in ballet classes, the three of us were inseparable all the time, we had a few fights with my sister of whom San should dance with, in the end it was always my sister, I saw as they grew closer together. I knew this was as important to me, as for San, because he loved my sister, it was hard for him too, losing my sister. I was glad he was the one I could share my sister's passion with.

The music quietly started as, we danced along with it, the violin's sound flying around us, like a bird, as San was circling around me, symbolizing the prince that found Odette dancing at night. I made a few pirouettes, suddenly feeling as I was there in the chilly night dancing freely, as on the days I was a swan not being able to dance. Then slowly San approached me and lifted me into the air the violins started to get more aggressive, some flutes and oboes accompanying it. The story of the Black Swan was emotional, full with acting as we needed to show the sufferings of Odette and her companions, whom were cursed and transformed into swans under the spell cast by an evil sorcerer. Their days are spent gracefully gliding on a lake only to return to their human form at night. Odette needed to find pure love to break the curse.

As we danced to the music, showing the emotions of the characters, I suddenly caught a glimpse of my little sister, dancing in front of us, with her partner, they were sparkling and they were like holograms, being one of the cursed swans. It gave me the strenght I needed for my White Swan part, because I always had a hard time dancing that role, and now I danced as never before, showing the world the power of my little sister so they won't ever forget her. I smiled, as the music reached its turning point were, the prince and Odette figured out how to break the curse of the cruel sorcerer. It was their true love, that could defeat the evil man. They danced together, flying up in the sky, little sparkles following them, as our dance symbolized the fight between the sorcerer and Odette alongside with the prince, at the end they reached the ground again, just when the music started to slow down and they finally found their deserved happiness as, they fought together with the evil, leaving nothing behind but sunlight and flowers blooming, as their world was dark and misty until now. The music slowly quieted, as San held my hands and my hips, so I could move my right leg, slowly extending it into the air. That was when, we were left in the dark, as the lights turned off, meaning it was the end. Sudden lights came to life again, as the crowd stood up in one go, and cheered for us, throwing bunch of flowers on the stage, shouted sweet words at us, we bowed elegantly and waved at the crowd with the other performers. I felt relived, like a big stone fell off of my heart, as I glanced beside me, watching the hologram of my sister’s, she looked up at me, with a proud smile and slowly dissapeared, turning into a little blue bird, flying away, as she finally found her purpose. That was seeing me happy.

When I stepped off from the stage, my body was shaking from the sudden adrenaline gone, I just felt as my body suddenly felt tired from the very difficult moves, that needed to be perfect and elegant. The emotions I felt during the performance was addicting, I never wanted it to end, I felt like I was Odette, who found true love, and if I think about it, I think I found my prince in real life, in Hongjoong, he was the one, saving me, like the prince did with Odette. I was sitting in my changing room, trying to catch my breath. When someone came into the room.

"Hey." I heard a familiar voice, I didn't see him, because my eyes were closed, but I knew whom he was, and I didn't want to see him, at all.

I turned around in my seating just to see Jungkook's face, standing in front of the door as he was holding a bucket of flowers. "What are you doing here?" I asked in a low tone.

"I just watched your performance and it was very beautiful, you were beautiful." He said stepping closer to me, his pierced lips giving me a sad smile, as his whole face was screaming regret, but it was too late for that. He was my ex, whom I was together with for three years. Three years of my life being taken away, as he was the biggest fuck boy, he was a walking red flag; piercings in his lips, ears, eyebrows, his right arm fully tattooed with different symbols, and of course he was driving a motorbike. Still I somehow felt something for him back then, it wasn't even close to what I'm feeling for Hongjoong, but back then as I was at my lowest point and I didn't care about anything at all, he was the only one that cared about me, so all I needed is a little attention, to know somebody being by my side, and I did everything he asked me to do, and unfortunately as I weren't myself, I let him to do everything he wanted to do with me, at the beginning he took care of me, he was the person I thought I needed, I thought he is going to show me the way out from the dark, but all he did was showing me deeper into the dark. He started to get aggressive, anything I did was a problem and anything bad he did, was my fault. I let him do whatever he wanted to do with me, because at least I felt like I'm living. Not fully, but at least he hit some sense into me with his random slaps on my face. Hongjoong was his best friend, I knew him all the way, and he started to realize what was happening between me and Jungkook, so he strated to step up for me. There were countable times, when Hongjoong saw as Jungkook hurt me, and he stepped in all the time, just so in the end I would take Jungkook's side either way. Hongjoong and Jungkook had a few fights over the fact he hurt me, but this last one was the last and the most meaningful, as they were fighting again, and Jungkook showed a side of him, I never saw and it made me realize, as I finally got back into life, that what was I doing. I watched as Jungkook punched Hongjoong to near death, that was the moment I jumped on him and screamed to let him go.

Hongjoong was there all the time, but I was blind enough being in the dark, to not see him. After that night, I cut all my connections with Jungkook, and from then Hongjoong was by my side, slowly bringing me back to life.

I stood up from my seat, my legs still shaking from not only the dancing, but the fear, as well. "I don't want to see you, Jungkook, wasn't I clear enough?" I gave a death glare to him, not wanting to show him, I was still scared of him. He couldn't break me again.

He stepped even closer to me, grabbing my wrist, with his fully tattooed hands "I want to make you mine again." He pulled me closer to him.

My heart started to race, as his hand squeezed my wrist harder. "I don't want anything from you, so please go away, you really did think, I'm going to forgive you after all that happened?" My voice got a little shaky, as I was trapped in like a little rabbit in a trap.

"I can be better; I won't ever hurt you ever." He said his voice trying to be smooth, but I knew he was angry, his body was shaking.

"Fuck off, Jungkook!" I pulled my hand off of his strong holding, as I felt it is going to leave marks there. "Get the fuck out of here!" I shouted at him and pointed at the door, which immediately opened, just to see a mad Hongjoong stepping inside, his eyes sending threats into Jungkook's, as he rushed in front of the said man and pushed him against the wall with full force, grabbing the collar of Jungkook's shirt.

"Never, I said never, ever dare to touch her again, because I swear to God, I'm going to kill you, you fucking bastard." Hongjoong hissed through his teeth, pulling on Jungkook's collar again, pushing him stronger towards the wall. I was just standing there, holding my wrist where Jungkook grabbed me, tears started to appear in my eyes. I was so tired of this shit, when will it end? Does it have an ending? It wasn't the first time, he showed up all of a sudden, but somehow, he never got close enough to touch me, he was just saying some things to us, as he saw we got together with Hongjoong, saying we betrayed him, that I cheated on him with his best friend. It was ridiculous, he still could somehow show that he was the victim here. I stepped closer to them and looked straight into Jungkook's eyes.

"Jungkook, this is the last time I'm going to ask you nicely to leave, or else I'm going to call the police, I'm sick and tired of your shit, get over it, and just fuck off, forever." I said looking determined.

Hongjoong glanced at me for a second, as he still held, Jungkook. "You are a nobody, you are a disappointment, I can't even recognize you Jk, I can't even look into your eyes, without feeling discussed. Get the fuck away from her, from us, or else it'll have consequences, believe me, it will have." Hongjoong glared at him with deadly eyes.

Jungkook just sighed. "Let me go you fucker, you two can fuck each other, you both deserve the other, you both are fucked up." He said as he pulled Hongjoong's hands away from his chest and stepped away from us.

"Don't embarrass yourself more Jungkook!" Hongjoong said with a low tone, he slowly reached his hands towards my lower back and pulled me closer to him, as I suddenly felt more relieved, knowing him by my side. Jungkook was just staring at the action for a moment, and scoffed, just to open the door and leave us there, hopefully for good.

Hongjoong turned me to face him, as Jungkook finally left us there. He held the sides of my arms, leaning down to be eyelevel with me.

"Are you okay did he hurt you?" His eyes scanned me from toe to the top of my head. I shook my head, reassuring he didn't really hurt me, as his eyes found my wrist, being a little red from his holding. His face got angrier.

He held my hand slowly up to see it. "I swear to God I'm going to kill him, now." He turned towards the door, his hands already on the handle, but I quickly grabbed his upper arm to hold him back.

"No, Hongjoong, I don't want him to hurt you again. He won't come back again. I'm tired of this shit, I want it to end." I said pulling him closer to me by his arm.

He cupped my face, with his delicate hands lifting my head up so I could look into his eyes. "I won't let him do anything to you, I promise, love. If he ever dares to come back, I'll make sure he is going to regret it." He pecked my forehead with his soft lips, and embraced me into his warm arms, giving me a safe bubble that hugged us around.

I just nodded, breathing in and out in relief as I finally felt like this day was the day of closure. I completed the desires of my little sister and alongside with her I let go of my past, that was cruel and dark, just until Hongjoong stepped into my life, bringing me hope as my heart started to bloom.

"Oh, I forgot, I brought you something." He stepped away from me, grabbing a bucket of white roses and in the middle, there was one black rose. I assume he dropped it on the table, when he saw that Jungkook was here.

He stepped closer to me, smiling at me with loving eyes. "You were so mesmerizing on the stage, Y/N, I swear I teared up… " He chuckled and I smiled at that too. "…seeing how, beautifully you managed to show your emotions through the performance. I'm so-so proud of, my princess" He hugged me and lifted me up in the air, as I giggled. "Thank you so much, Hongjoong. I felt happy on the stage."

He put me down after spinning around a little, his face was serious, as he reached the roses towards me. "I'm going to love you until the last rose withers." He grabbed my waist as I was looking down pouting at the roses between us, I frowned, because these will wither after a little time. I reached my hand to the petals of the roses and the middle black rose was a little weird as I smiled happily, when I realized it was an artificial rose.

Just as our love that, just started to bloom, that blooms into an artificial flower so it'll never wither away.

#orshii #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong #hongjoong fluff #kim hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #kim hongjoong angst #hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong ateez #kim hongjoong ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@orcabite​ asked: ♡

Dream drabbles! (No Longer Accepting)

It was another Straw Hat beach party that the Hearts had been pulled into. Ikkaku didn’t even know what they were celebrating—not that their allies ever really needed much of a reason to have a party. It didn’t matter, anyway. At the sky overhead flickered between day and night, the engineer was content to sit by the bonfire and watch the festivities as they played out. Especially as it was always a treat to see both crews so happy.

Law was sitting further off, Nami in his arms as they had some highly intelligent discussion, if the pleased but focused expression on their faces were anything to go by. Penguin and Shachi were flirting with Robin who thankfully seemed more amused by their attempts to woo her than put-off. Clione and Sanji were keeping the buffet table piled high with the most delicious food. The air was filled with the sounds of Brook’s violin and Crozier’s guitar. Luffy and Bepo were sitting quietly, listening to Usopp tell one of his wild stories. Meanwhile, half of the Hearts were engaged in a ten-on-two volleyball match against Franky and Chopper while Jinbei refereed.

Ikkaku’s brow furrowed as she realized one Straw Hat was not accounted for. Had Zoro gotten lost on his way to get more sake? How long had he been missing for? It simultaneously felt like minutes and hours since she’d seen him last.

Just as she had gotten to her feet so she could track him down, a strong, warm presence appeared behind her. “Where’re you going?” the swordsman’s deep voice rumbled in her ear as muscular arms wrapped around her waist.

“Was gonna look for you,” she giggled, turning her head to press a kiss to his jaw. “Was worried you’d gotten lost and found yourself in trouble.”

He gave an annoyed grunt at the teasing but didn’t let go of his engineer, instead resting his chin on her shoulder. “Didn’t get lost. Just wanted to make sure everything was perfect, otherwise the shitty cook would never let me hear the end of it.”

“Make sure what was perfect?” she asked, curiosity piqued. It was then that she caught a bit of white out of the corner of her eye, and looking down, found a bandage wrapped around Zoro’s arm. “Oh. My. Gods. Did you manage to hurt yourself or something? Damn it, you should have gone straight to Chopper instead of me!” Not that she wouldn’t have been happy to use her limited medical knowledge to patch him up, but Zoro had a habit of treating major injuries like they weren’t a big deal unless actively dying, so naturally her first instinct was concern.

Zoro rolled his eyes at her reaction and opted to wrap his unbandaged arm around her tighter as he took a seat on the sandy ground, pulling her into his lap. “Tch. I’m fine. Besides, one of your crew did this to me.”

“My crew?”

“Marmaduke or somethin’.”

“Pretty sure you mean Malamute,” she corrected. He, like Luffy, always seemed to be getting her shipmates’ names wrong. It was simultaneously annoying and amusing.

“Yeah, that guy. The one who does tattoos and shit.”

Dark eyes widened in realization. “Did you…get a tattoo?”

Pulling away just enough to unwrap the bandage from around his bicep, Zoro revealed the fresh ink; three swords through a yellow heart. A simple design, but one that so clearly symbolized them and their relationship.

“It’s beautiful,” Ikkaku whispered, touching the spot carefully. Almost reverently. The skin was warm and pliant beneath her fingertips, and she swore she could feel his heart beating through the muscle.

“Good, because now we match.”

“Huh?”

Zoro leaned down to press his lips to Ikkaku’s own bicep. When his lips touched her skin, colors burst through her veins and bled upwards until the same tattoo now marked her own arm.

“This almost feels like a proposal,” she joked breathily as the rest of their crews faded away, leaving the two to have their moment alone.

“Maybe it is,” Zoro stated, lifting his head to look into her eyes. He gave her one of those heartrending, beautiful, rare smiles as he asked, “What do you say? Wanna marry me?”

---

Ikkaku awoke before she could give her answer in the dream. Not that she really needed to—she already knew the answer in her heart. A difficult one she’d been wrestling with for quite a while, and while it was one she knew she’d never actually receive from her stubborn swordsman, something she’d felt deserved an answer for her own closure.

Sighing, Ikkaku reached across her bed to her nightstand, where a little notebook sat. Turning to the most recent page, she stared at the tattoo she had been sketching out for herself.

Three swords through a yellow heart. It was the design she was planning on taking to Malamute to permanently ink into her skin. A symbol to herself and others that she was taken. She didn’t expect Zoro to do the same. Hell, he’d never seemed all that interested in getting a tattoo in the past, so why would he now. Perhaps it was just her own wistful thinking that he’d want to match her. To have that visible symbol that they were together even when their respective voyages kept them apart for long stretches of time.

Rolling back onto the bed, Ikkaku stared at the ceiling. The dream was happy. She was happy with her relationship with Zoro, even if he wasn’t exactly the romantic sort. Her heart was simultaneously full of warmth at the knowledge that she’d genuinely fallen in love and a dull ache that she was too much of a coward to actually say the words.

She could only hope her dumb yet surprisingly perceptive lover was about to figure it out despite the lack of words, and returned those feelings in his own way.

#orcabite #Ask the Heart Engineer #Imaginative Blueprints (Drabble/Fanfic) #Iron Will - Zoro x Ikkaku #Wandering Hunter (Zoro) #Straw-Heart Alliance #Join the Hearts: We Have Uniforms #Wear My Heart on My Sleeve (Shipping) #(happy and probably cheesy dream with a slightly bittersweet awakening) #(he does love her in his own way but Ikkaku's a fool when it comes to her own romantic life) #(writing dreams is hard man. feel like I'm not making these dreamlike enough lol)

[romeulusroy]

Fathers Favorite (Vanya Hargreeves Drabble)

Character/s: Vanya, Reginald mention

Word Count: 520

Requested: anon

Power: Fire Manipulation

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @hypsiacrobasiphobia @melody-of-scream

A/N: I hope this is angst enough love!!! It’s the immediate idea I got and though I know I could have written it better, I do like the idea :) I hope you like it! Thank you for celebrating! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Always your father’s favorite. You didn’t realize it until you were much older. The special treatment, the gifts and attention you were given instead of your siblings. He went lighter on you, always surprised, proud, never disappointed. You could do no wrong, even as a baby. Lighting your own stroller on fire, injuring any nanny who cared for you. They quit too easily, their burned hands slamming the door on the way out. That never mattered. You could be useful, the most useful of them all, and just as easily manipulated. All kids are. You also hadn’t realized your sister was being so mistreated. Isolated and alone, your father always had excuses. They seemed so believable back then. She was sick, or practicing, or she simply didn’t want to play. You hadn’t realized how distant you two truly were until the funeral.

You never thought anything of it, either. After all these years, the family had grown apart. You’d never met your niece, or came home to check on your brother. You had your own life, the one you built for yourself without them. It wasn’t selfish, you just wanted to grow up, be an adult. And even as the favorite, you were still tormented alongside them. Overworked, exhausted, tired of being in the spotlight. You were just little kids, and already being treated as adults.

You’d never thought what that might do to a person, to Vanya. Quiet, sensitive, brushes off too easily too many times. You’d never meant to hurt her, none of you had, but falling into old patterns, behaviors, became too easy in that home. Young again, almost, in your childhood bedrooms, unchanged from the day you left. A sense of power rushing back, as if you could say anything you wanted and never pay the consequences. Words bubbled up out of nowhere, accusing and harsh, a reminder of all the things she’d written in her book. About you, your father, making it sound as if you were his own carbon copy, evil and manipulative, the very reason she was shoved away and hidden. The family disgrace.

She still blamed you now. Even behind the metal wall, screaming, the anger was targeted at you. Blamed you all your lives, envious of the tattoo inked into your arm, of your place in the family paintings, even the size of your room. It was the biggest. Two destructive beings, one shunned, one celebrated. She was always left to wonder, why you? Why not her? A gift in your father’s eyes, she was left to watch him fawn over you, your every need. When you left, he was shattered, unable to pick up the broken pieces. Never had Reginald ever shown anything towards her other than disgust. It was about time you were shown what it was like to be targeted, Vanya thought, and no one else could do it better than her. You’d seen what she could do. How she tore Leonard apart, almost killed your sister, and all by accident. What would happen when it wasn’t? How much damage could she really do when she was trying?

#requested #vanya hargreeves #vanya hargreeves drabble #vanya hargreeves oneshot #the white violin #the white violin drabble #the white violin oneshot #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy drabble #the umbrella academy oneshot #umbrella academy #umbrella academy drabble #umbrella academy oneshot #tua #tua drabble #tua oneshot #vanya hargreeves x reader #vanya x reader #x reader #writing #drabble #oneshot

[evesbeve]

Amnesia (TUActober Day 21)

TUActober Prompts by @totallyevan​

this one is short and bad but we’re vibing

Summary: Vanya doesn’t remember who she is.

(Read on AO3)

___

My name is Vanya…

There’s an ache in the back of her head, and it feels like she’s going to burst any second now.

My name is Vanya Hargreeves…

She buries herself deeper into the bed sheets, and tries to shut the voice down. She can’t remember the last time she got a decent night’s sleep.

My name is Vanya Hargreeves, and this is my story.

Vanya’s eyes fly open and she groans loudly, sitting up and pulling her pillow on her lap. For almost a week, it’s been nothing but that phrase stuck in her head, and it’s driving her insane.

Vanya remembers her name.

She doesn’t remember her story.

#the umbrella academy #tua #tuactober #tuactober 2020 #evelina nonesense #eve's writing #fanfic #fanfiction #drabble #ficlet #vanya #vanya hargreeves #tua vanya #the white violin

[lesbianfivehargreeves]

Pure White Rainbows

How ironic that when she finally became all that she could, she was absent of colour, stark white against her suite of light, against her rainbow-stained symphony.

When she played, she painted with her bow more than played; she drew stokes of red against a backsplash of air, sent colours dancing through space like splatters of acrylic from a brush.

When she begins playing her final symphony, the world seems to freeze as she gently places her bow against the strings of her violin, places her paintbrush against her canvas. The first note is so quiet, she thinks only she can hear it, can hear that quavering maroon, can see how it hangs like a spider’s thread in the air above her stand. A breath– two– …and her bow slides across the wires again, drawing out a quick, vibrant note so pure she could weep with triumph. The notes seem to shine in the air around her as she plays, fingers dancing across the neck of the violin, a pencil darting across a paper, the air like stained glass around her. She paints with her music, a symphony of colour and light and shapes, sending prisms of mahogany colliding with wide strokes of pink. The air around her is a work of art that she creates, and the most beautiful, most heartbreaking thing is that she’d the only one who can see it.

Her eyes follow the path of a high G to the audience, and her breath catches as she locks eyes with her sister. A soft smile adorns her lips that had been painted with blood not even a day earlier, and Vanya smiles back, shocked but overjoyed. Her sister, the warm magenta presence she had always longed for in her life, is here, and suddenly her art seems more vibrant, more rich. The colours dancing around her are deep and glorious, and as she plays, she tears her gaze from her sister’s to watch as the air around her swirls with the colour of her music. It feels as if the colour from her very soul is leaking into the world, painting the air with her very being. It feels right; it feels like coming home. She shares herself with the world; she splashes colour where there is none, colouring the earth and air around her with beauty borne of beautiful melodies, every run a watercolour painting, every staccato like a daub of colour placed on a blank canvas.

She may be the white violin, but she produces more colour than the world could ever dream, could ever hope to envision. The world is her canvas, and she paints with her heart and soul, like an artist painting with their blood and tears. She is the white violin, and oh, her colours are ethereal.

#the umbrella academy #tua #vanya hargreeves #tuatv #allison hargreeves #synesthesia #drabble #my writing #mine #white violin #the white violin

[heavenlybarnes]

fluff prompt for bucky having a comfort blanket and the only person he lets borrow it is reader.... and maybe sam relentlessly teases him for it:)

keep you warm | bucky barnes drabble

summary: bucky never thought he would trust someone enough to borrow the only thing he's kept from his past. but isn't life a funny thing?

word count: 587

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

tags: pure fluff

a/n: oh goodness this request is so ridiculously adorable!! fluff is not one of my strengths but i hope i did it justice for you, lovely anon :)

Bucky is not a sentimental man.

After 106 years on earth—much of that time spent outside the realm of his control—he's come to learn that life is not made up of things, but of moments. Sharing a drink by the lake with Sam. Waking up in the early mornings to AJ and Cass' raucous laughter, the cling of Steve's—now Sam's—shield as it grazes the corner of the kitchen wall. Then, in the afternoon, shouts of boys, get in here right this second when Sarah discovers the spot, paint already chipping.

Life, most importantly, is made up of moments with you. Your fingers tracing circles up his spine. Your lips on his. Moments that can't be boxed up and stored in the back of a cupboard, collecting dust, but remembered, always.

Bucky is not a sentimental man, but there is one thing he's kept. One thing he can't bring himself to give away.

It comes in the form of a blanket, white and worn. Edges frayed from overuse, cloth speckled with small holes from the many times it'd snagged on the metal plates of his left arm, from the times he'd clutched it forgetting he is not a man, but a weapon disguised as one.

The blanket his mother made for him.

It's the only thing he's kept from his past—other than the dog tags hanging loose from his neck—the only thing he's allowed himself to have. He doesn't know how it's survived this long, actually, only that he'd stuffed it in his backpack in Bucharest and it hadn't left his sight since. He's never even let another person touch it, for fear it'd disappear.

Well... except you.

You asked him once if you could use it; you were cold and your jacket was in the other room. And, well, he couldn't say no to you, could he? Not then, not now. Not when you looked up at him with those innocent eyes of yours; when the smile you gave, small as it was, felt to him like being bathed in sunlight.

So he'd given it to you, Sam in the back watching the exchange with a knowing grin. It felt strange, handing this piece of him to you so readily, so easily. Yet, at the same time, nothing had ever felt so right.

You hadn't known the blanket's significance—how could you? Yet you'd still held it as though it was precious, tattered though it was. The pads of your fingers tracing the seams like a musician plucks at violin strings; and Bucky didn't doubt, for a moment, that your touch would bring music. You touched everything like that, even him—especially him—not in a way that made him feel breakable, but in a way that said, look at you. I love you. I want to hold you and never let you go.

You're touching him like that now.

The both of you are sat on the couch, legs entangled beneath the white blanket, feet sticking out because it isn't big enough for the both of you. You're laughing along with Sam at something on TV, hand mindlessly running up and down the length of Bucky's metal arm, and even though Bucky can't feel your warmth, he can feel it. Like nothing he's ever felt before.

"Isn't that funny, Buck?" You say to him now, shifting on Bucky's lap so you can grin up at him. From the sofa across, Sam straightens, a sly smile dancing on his own lips.

Isn't that funny?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction