#this is how she gets the electrical scars on her arm btw. that i almost never draw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rowanaelinn · 3 years

Text

Fire on Fire - Chapter Seven

chapter six / chapter eight

no one kills me after that, thank you very much <3

btw it’s midnight, i wrote that in two hours and it’s not edited so sorry in advance for that too

Rowan gently knelt down to put Aelin in the shower, her small arms let go of his neck to fall back by his side.

"I'm going to take your shirt off, is that okay?" Rowan asked gently, his voice barely louder than a whisper. She ignored him, her eyes fixed straight ahead with tears still streaming down her cheeks. "Aelin?"

Almost imperceptibly, she nodded. Rowan took the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, she raised her arms to help him but it seemed to take all her strength. She was only in her panties, sitting on the floor with her legs bent in front of her. She put her head on her knees, her arms around her legs as if it was going to protect her, as if she wanted to make herself as small as possible so that she could disappear.

"I'll be back in a second." He told her and went to his room to grab a shirt and a pair of boxers. He didn't know where she kept her clothes and he didn't want to invade her privacy any more than he already was. She hated him so the fact that he was going to see her naked was enough, she didn't need to know that he had gone through her underwear. He also took some water and towels to rapidly clean up the mess in her room.

The two minutes alone she had while Rowan was in his room and hers did nothing to calm her tremors. He took the shower palm and knelt down in front of her, she looked at him and for the first time, Rowan smiled at her. It wasn't a big smile or a pity smile, it was small and full of understanding. I know how that feels.

She didn't say anything but he could have sworn her body relaxed slightly. He turned on the water and adjusted the heat, not too hot but still (too) warm. He had noticed that she liked her shower hot because of the steam that came out of the bathroom every time she came out of the room.

The water splashed on his pants but he didn't care as he began to run the water over her arms and shoulders. She stayed still as she let Rowan take care of her, as she let the man who had been an absolute dick to her see her in her most vulnerable state.

He turned to access her back but what he saw made his heart stop for a second. Her back. That was the moment he realized he had never seen her back, no matter what he wore, it had always been covered and now he understood why.

There were two scars on the length of her spine, one at the top and one at the bottom, the same spine that wasn’t totally straight. Softly, he traced the shape of the first one and her entire body stiffened. “Please, don’t ask. Please,” Her voice was shaking and weak. Her back had been broken, he was sure of that. The scars could only have been caused by surgery. What the hell happened to her?

“I’m going to wash your hair now,” he only said and took all her hair in hand to wet them. They were soft, so soft that he may have spent more time than necessary to get them wet. He took his shampoo, not wanting to waste time looking at which of her bottles was shampoo. Gods, she brought so much product. Rowan only had shower gel and shampoo, thinking that's what everyone else had. Then Aelin Galathynius arrived, bringing shampoos, conditioners, hair care products, castor oil, and a bunch of other stuff he didn't even know the name of.

He ran some lotion through his hands and as gently as possible, he began to massage her head. She leaned her head to his touch and her breathing calmed down. Good.

He frowned as his fingers brushed against a piece of skin that did not feel the same as the others when touched. So that she wouldn't recognize his digging, Rowan looked at her scalp. A large scar was present on the right side of her head, hidden by her hair.

His breath caught, imagining all that could have happened to this woman. Quickly, his eyes searched for scars elsewhere on her body and he found a few on her arms, he couldn't see her legs from her position. The marks were not as large as those on her scalp or back but they were still there.

What the hell.

But she had asked him, begged him, not to say anything about her back so he would apply the same principle to the other scars.

He continued to massage her scalp, longer than necessary but she looked so rested that he didn't care. If it made her feel better, he would wash her hair all night.

After a few minutes, he pulled her hair back a little and gently rinsed her hair full of product. From this angle, he could see her cheeks and he noticed that there were no more tears on them, which was a good sign.

Quickly but still gently, he applied soap to her back and arms, not wanting to touch her where he would have to move her position. She had found a position where she felt safe and he would not take that away from her.

He turned off the water, rising above her and when he looked down, her eyes were already open. He'd looked at them too many times, blamed himself many times for that, but they fascinated him. Today, Rowan noticed that the blue of her eyes looked deeper and seemed to take up more space than usual. The gold was almost impossible to see. He was used to seeing the opposite, the gold grew whenever she was upset, making her eyes look like they were on fire.

He didn't smile, and neither did she. He knew that at the slightest sign of pity he would show, she would break again.

This type of breakdown she had today was not casual and he knew it, she didn't panic about her condition once and that proved Rowan right. She was used to it.

He wondered what her dreams had shown her tonight, what her mind had chosen to torture her with. It was at that moment that he regretted everything, regretted being the worst possible person around her. Not because he thought he had something to do with her condition, that kind of pain was deeper than mean words, but because maybe, if he had been a better person, she would have confided in him.

He had been so focused on pushing her away from his life that he had been blind to the possibility that he could just let her in. He shook his head, he was pushing people away for a reason. If he had any lesser friends, he would be alone now. Fenrys, Lorcan, Vaughan, Connall and now Aedion would never let him leave them, no matter how many times he had tried.

Rowan wondered if Aelin ever had anyone who fought for her the way his friends did. Sure, Dorian, Aedion, and Lysandra were here but did they notice every single thing Rowan noticed about her? Or were they wronged by her smile and the arrogance she used to hide her pain?

“Let’s get up, okay?” He said as he held his hands toward her. She looked at them and seemed to wonder what to do, he let her think, keeping the neutral expression on his face. After a few seconds of thinking, she let go of her legs and put both hands in his.

A surge of electricity passed through his body at that moment and Rowan was sure she felt it too. He used a little strength to make her stand up, her legs still a little weak. He took one of the towels and automatically Aelin raised her arms slightly, letting Rowan wrap it around her. He took another towel and had Aelin turn on herself, slowly, he began to rub her hair to dry it.

He took the opportunity to rub the towel lightly on the back of her neck and shoulders, helping her dry herself. She did nothing, just waited for time to pass, but Rowan saw that her gaze was no longer fixed on the horizon, lost in thought.

No, she was aware of what was going on around her, aware that he was there, and it didn't seem to make her uncomfortable. He left her the time, taking his hairbrush and start to untangle the small nodes that formed in the shower. It should have been more delicate.

He cringed when one of the knots didn't unravel directly, pulling Aelin's head back but she said nothing, letting him do it.

"I brought you something to wear," he said after he was done, she looked at him with a confused look before shaking her head slightly and nodding. Before he could do anything she dropped the towel that wrapped her body to the ground and removed her last piece of underwear. Rowan quickly turned around, giving her some privacy. It's not like there was anything sexual about seeing her this way, there was nothing attractive, he just wanted her to be comfortable.

“You don’t believe me,” her voice was flat, without any emotions in it. He turned his head with a frown to see her with his shirt on. It was huge for her, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the sigh. “For the scholarship.” She specified.

Well, that was random. He didn’t think about the conversation they had in the kitchen last morning at all. But if she was ready to talk, even if it was something as random as that, then he would talk. He shook his head, “I don’t, you’re right.”

“They don’t give scholarships to people like me.” No, they didn’t. “I told everyone I had one, and they believed me.”

“But it’s not true.” He said and she shook her head, confirming what he said. “How do you go to college, then?”

“My professor, Arobynn Hamel, pays for me.” Her voice was smaller than it had ever been. There was something about the way she said his name that bothered Rowan. He knew Arobynn Hamel, everyone did, he had read some of his books, he had even produced a quite good movie a few years ago. He also heard more than once Lysandra and Aelin talk about Professor Hamel.

“Why do you lie?” He asked her without judgment in his voice, only pure curiosity. It was weird for a professor to pay for a student that wasn’t one of his children, but Rowan remembered Aedion talking about Arobynn Hamel and Aelin knowing each other long before college, maybe he was a family friend? “Why lie when someone clearly cares about you enough to pay for your education? Your uncle and cousin are worried sick you’re going to lose that scholarship, you could make them feel better.”

She took a deep breath as if it was hard to speak. He was sure nobody knew what she had just told him, he could be okay with only one secret if she wanted to stop talking now. “Because the furthest they are from Arobynn, the safest they are.”

“What does that mean?” He asked but from the look on her face… She was done talking. She wouldn’t say anything more and it annoyed him, but he could respect that. “Let’s get you to bed,” he said and she nodded.

“Can you stay with me a little?” He knew how god damn hard it was to ask for help, but this little human being in front of him just did, she was strong enough to ask for something he never had the courage to ask in a decade. So he nodded, following her as she slipped in her bed, sitting at the end of it.

She had been honest with him tonight, more honest than she had been with anyone, it was only fair he was honest with her, too. “I had a nightmare,” he started. It was easier to speak without any lights on, even if he could feel her gaze burn his skin. “That’s how I heard you, I was already awake.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, he even wondered if she wasn’t asleep. “What was your nightmare about?”

“You’ve got your secrets, I have mine, princess.” She laughed softly at that and he wanted to get on his knees to thank all the gods for that. It wasn’t a big, strong laugh, but it was one. One he would cherish.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“No,” he said, honestly for the first time in his life. “You?”

“No,” her voice was quiet. “It’s weird. To answer that question truthfully. People don’t usually expect another answer than “yes” when they ask you how you are.”

“You’re right, they don’t.”

“I’m scared, Rowan. And my little trick to contain the fear isn’t working lately.”

“What trick?” He frowned even if she couldn’t see it. He felt her feet close to his leg under the comforter. He stood up, took her feet and the cover, and lifted them. He sat down again and this time Aelin's legs were on him.

“My name is Aelin Galathynius and I will not be afraid,” she whispered. He turned his head toward her, a brow raised and a small smile on his lip.

“So, you say that and it works?”

“I had the same conversation with someone a few years ago,” she laughed, moving to get comfortable and maybe to lean into his touch. “But yeah, it does. Or when it doesn’t I just laugh at myself.”

He just smiled at the dark, “Sleep, Aelin.”

“Can you stay tonight?” She asked. “I don’t want to be alone.”

As he squeezed her ankle he said “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

------------------

It was still dark when Aelin woke up. The events of the night before came back to her mind with flashes, making her stand up suddenly. Rowan was lying in bed, the dim light of early dawn allowing Aelin to see his sleeping head tilted to the side.

What has she done?

What the hell has she done?

As quietly as possible she got up and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and her phone from the coffee table. She tiptoed out of the room, giving one last look to the man who had taken care of her yesterday after being a total bastard for almost two years. She didn't know what he wanted from her but she had already given and suffered too much. It wouldn't happen again.

She put on her shoes and went outside, starting to run. She listed in her head all the things she had confided in Rowan last night.

Arobynn, the scholarship, Sam's sentence...

You don't have to be alone anymore. What did it mean? She had been alone for years, no matter that she was in a room full of people, she was always alone.

Everything he said to her before last night, all the scornful looks he gave her... Everything she said...

Yesterday he told her he knew how it felt, did she hate him because he was a mirror of herself? Of the part of her that she hated the most?

She didn't care, continuing to run even though she was out of breath until she found herself in front of a familiar front door which she knocked on loudly for several seconds.

She had to run because she didn't know what was waiting for her in her room, didn't know what was going to happen. Yesterday changed things and Aelin hated change and she hated not knowing something.

The door opened and Aelin could see that he was surprised, she smiled at him but it did nothing to ease his confusion. "Aelin? What the hell are you doing here? Did you run? It's seven miles!"

"Can I crash here for a few days?" She asked out of breath. She didn’t know what she would do if he said no but she didn’t have to wonder about that for long.

He didn't hesitate before letting her into his little house. "It's your home too."

“Thank you, uncle Gav.” He smiled at her and kissed the crown of her head before she walked up the stairs to Aedion’s room. The moment her head hit the pillow she was out.

————

tag list:

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

#rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass fanfiction #fire on fire

90 notes · View notes

squishytenya · 3 years

Text

𝕂𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕄𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘

↬ Parings: Mina x reader (smut)

↬ Reader: Gender Neutral but afab

↬ Warnings: face sitting, teasing, mentions of public teasing, mina has a tongue piercing

this is 2k of pure smut btw

Candles fluttered in the soft breeze of the night coming from the balcony doors. You kind of felt like them, fluttery and fidgety whilst waiting for your girlfriend to come out of the shower but it was a good fluttery. It was your anniversary and you had been promised a gift by your pink girlfriend. Of course you were jittery! Every offer of a gift or reward shot tingles up your spine like lightning and you couldn’t help but get a little excited.

The nerves only rocketed when you heard the shower turn off and your girlfriend come shuffling out of the shower. You turned and couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of her. She had a black towel wrapped around her but it was a little short and ended a fair few inches above her knee, slit in the towel exposing her side up to her mid stomach. Drops of water were still clinging to her neck from her hair but the rest of her had been dried and moisturised in the bathroom, leaving her with a diamond like glow that had you fidgeting once more.

“Fuck, Mina that’s not fair” you whined, writhing slightly on the bed sheets.

She let out a deep giggle at the way you had begun to rub your thighs together and cooed a teasing ‘not yet baby’. To your dismay, she slipped onto the vanity table and began to dry her hair.

Muscles in her upper arms moved with every brush stroke through her hair and you gasped slightly. Despite her rather slender frame, Mina had stacked up quite a bit of muscle since becoming a pro-hero and you loved it. She did her best to show it off too. Lucky for you those arms had been used to pull you onto her, maneuverer your head and pull your leg up to her shoulder when she was-

“You gonna come back to earth for me sweetie or are you keeping me waiting?”

Snapping your eyes from the ceiling, you looked down only to see amber eyes looking at you. Her magenta eyebrow was curved in a mock-questioning way and you whined at it, pushing her shoulder. The object of your affection giggled and pulled your chin up to meet hers, dancing her lips over yours for a moment. From your spot sitting on the bed you could only push yourself up in an effort to connect your lips but she was quick to pull away from you. Whining, you tried to push up from the bed but baby pink hands gripped your hips and held them down.

It was like a fire had been lit in you when she finally let you kiss her. It was always like that with Mina, her kisses had a fire and warmth behind them. It was enough to excite you and make you feel like you were home at the same time. They all started the same but you knew when it was going to lead somewhere different because of her hand placement. For example, now her hands were resting on your waist and slowly moving up to cup your chest. Not to mention the tongue that slips between your lips when you moan at her wandering fingertips.

She snickered from above you and moved to pull your sleep shirt off. There wasn’t really an effort made for you to be sexy for her, no lace or silks. It had been a long day and Mina found you hot in everything. Especially the oversized shirt you were wearing and your baby pink underwear that you had matched with her for some giggles. Her cold fingertips dragged along your ribs as she pulled it off, causing you to shudder at the movements. The moment her eyes fell on your exposed torso she let out a groan and gripped your chin once again for you to kiss her. It was deeper this time, hotter and with a certain desperation that had your hips rutting against the knee she had slipped between them.

Soft lips began to trail down your jawline and between the valley of your chest, leaving bitemarks and bruises in their place. She was always gentle when it came to reaching your stomach, knowing it could be a place of possible insecurity. Being the loving girlfriend she is, any stretch marks or scars she left softer kisses on before pausing at the waistband of your underwear and flickering her eyes back up. To your dismay she stood and moved to the other side of the bed. A whimper escaped you involuntarily at the lac of touching and she met your eyes with a smirk.

“Needy are we baby? Don’t worry I was just moving” she teased, tapping the floor next to her “come here”

Urgently, you scrambled over and stood where she tapped. Slender fingers pulled off your pastel underwear, her muttering about how soaked they had been. It was true, she had been teasing you all throughout your dinner and you couldn’t help it. It was fine, you had expected her comments on it eventually and you knew how hot she found it when you got all worked up over her. You didn’t expect her however to lay down and grab your hand, pulling you onto the bed. You sat confused for a second and stuttered out a question.

“Mina are you gonna sleep?” you questioned

The snort she let out wasn’t exactly appropriate but it was very Mina and it calmed you a little.

“No silly, you’re gonna to sit on my face”

It felt like a hot candle had been poured on you with the way your face felt after that statement. You had eaten her out plenty of times and god had she done that same to you but never like that. It was a little embarrassing and you hid your face for a second. Would she be okay? It was a hot thought at being completely ruined by your girlfriend’s expert tongue. Not to mention that piercing she had gotten a while ago, you had both been too busy to test it out but what better time that now? The thought of the silver ball embedded in her tongue made your knees weak and you began to shuffle towards her.

A smirk met you when you looked up. You had ended up kneeling next to her head and this was when those arms came to play. One slid up your side to rub over your breast, tugging at the nipple that was already hardened by the soft night breeze. This further helped relax you and your eyes slipped back into your head when the other hand moved to rub your thigh. It was a nice amount of stimulation but she had decided it was enough and used the rest of her strength to tug your leg over her chest until you were sitting inches away from her awaiting mouth. She let out a sultry laugh at your squeak and you whined at her. It was soon cut short by her sliding down the bed. Her mouth was now fully under you and her hands pulled you down onto her tongue.

It was like someone had set off fireworks in your hips the way the immediate relief felt, You hadn’t realised but the ache between your legs had become painful and your mind wandered back to the soaked pink fabric currently thrown next to the bed. It was evident how horny you had been by the act that the insides of your thighs were glistening and so was what you could see of your girlfriends chin and mouth. She moaned at the taste and licked a long stripe which made you finally settle properly on her face.

The piercing finally came into play when she swirled it around your clit, making you arch your back. You were sure you would’ve shot off of her if her grip hadn’t been so strong and kept you tight to her mouth. The metal continued to flick around the sensitive bud and it felt like it was sending shocks of electricity racing through you. Grinding slightly on your girlfriends tongue, you moaned out her name and her only response was to slide her tongue further down and prod it at your hole, not quite sliding in yet. When you whined and bucked your hips she pulled you away from her.

“Feeling good huh angel?”

You whimpered and nodded, eyes rolling back at the feeling of her hot breath against you. She removed one of her hands from her thigh to slip it into your heat. Both of you were panting heavily at this point. Mina could honestly work magic with her tongue and you were so close to coming already. Not to mention the teasing she had been doing in the restaurant and the taxi. It had you almost dripping above her mouth but that was the way she liked you. This was evident by her groan and the carnation pink hands pulling you towards her face. This time two of her fingers had slid up and were pumping in and out of you whiler her tongue and that damn metal ball tease your clit.

‘God Mina please” you begged, threading your fingers through her locks “you feel so good oh my god”

Despite her fingers being thin, they were long and were quick to reach all the right places inside you. Not to mention that added stimulation of cold metal against you that was driving you crazy. Your ears seemed to ring so much you couldn’t hear the moans you were releasing. The neighbours were probably going crazy but it’s not exactly like the Ashido household (as the postman called you guys) were known for being quiet. As you were reminded by the muffled moans coming from between your hickey littered thighs.

It wasn’t long before you felt yourself getting close. Grinding harder on your girlfriends fingers, you warned her of this. She giggled in response and tapped your thigh to get you to shift.

“That’s fine cutie, use my face. You’re doing so well for me, taste so sweet”

You cut her off with a loud moan and another grind down onto her tongue. The warmth enclosed you one more time and her fingers resumed their movements. This time the desperation was evident in your hip. The way they stuttered and jerked made Mina moan into around your clit, finger curling just right. Heat shot up your hips and pooled there, waiting for the release she was all too eager to give you. The final switch was flipped when Mina got a thought and stuck in a third finger at the same time she ran her piercing over your clit in circles.

It was like a bomb had gone off the way you arched away from her mouth and her face was coated once again in your cum. She still didn’t let up her tongue in an effort to draw it out. Only stopping and releasing her hold on your legs when you began to writhe away from her, legs twitching at the overstimulation. The deep chuckle she let out made them shiver more. How did something as simple as that get you excited after she had just eaten you out with that much passion.

You flopped back onto the bed, legs being moved once again by your girlfriend until you were in a more comfortable position. Strong hands rubbed circles into the bite marks she had left on your thighs.

“Holy shit” you breathed out, speechless from just how hard she had made you come

She giggled again, wiping around her mouth

“Enjoy that huh baby?” she asked, leaning down to press kisses along your collar bones

You ran a hand through her hair, tugging lightly at the nape of her neck to see her shudder. It was obvious she was still excited if the sheen dripping down her thighs was anything to go by. You nodded shyly. Chuckling again, she sighed and led your finger towards her folds this time. Rutting back and forth on them she smirked won at you, gripping your jaw and turning it towards her.

“Hmm that great cause it’s my turn to feel good now isn’t it, gorgeous?”

leave it up to me to make my longest and most descriptive fic about riding mina’s face huh taglists are open

Reblogs Help Content Creators

#mina ashido x reader #mina x reader #mina ashido smut #mina smut #mina scenario #bnha mina x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mina ashido imagine #mina ashido headcanons

250 notes · View notes

yelenasdog · 3 years

Text

heavy is the head that wears the crown (mob!arvin russell x fem! pastor’s daughter! reader)

genre: angst+fluff

summary: arvin had always heard the saying “heavy is the head that wears the crown” but never truly understood what it meant. not until now

words: 4.06k

warnings: since this is based off of a tdatt, family death, mentions of death, mentions of mobs, kissing, marriage, murder, smoking, suicide, cancer and i think that’s it. it’s also kinda melodramatic, and i haven’t watched tdalt in a while so a lot could be plot inaccurate also idk anything abt the mob or mafia so like dont k*ll me thx i just like joe pesci

a/n: first, i owe the amazing concept of mob!arv to @kelieah ! so go follow her for more mob!arvin goodness!! basically i’m obsessed w 90s mob movies and watched goodfellas and casino and few too many times lately and oops here we r! i tried to write this from the narrator in tdatt’s view, so if u wanna read it like that then cool! btw the pic w the dress is just an idea of the dress reader is wearing not what she looks like! ok enjoy i’ll stop rambling

·。·。·。

“So, Arvin. I was told you paint houses? That true?”

Arvin hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it again. He wasn’t a painter, no, he killed people. For a price, that is.

But rather than saying no, the jab in his side from his uncle told him to answer otherwise.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

The Pastor nodded, taking a drag from his cigar, imported all the way from Cuba. He then placed what was left of the long stick in the crystal tray in front of him, the tapping of it on the reflective surface seeming almost deafening.

“Can all your family be traced down to one place, son?”

Arvin gulped, avoiding his eyes, darting his own around the heavily decorated room. Another jab to his side. He winced, meeting the older man’s eyes. He may not know much about the life he was about to enter, but he knew enough about what that meant.

“Yes, sir. They can be, minus my father and my mother. They’re gone.”

Not even a full beat of silence later, the Pastor spoke.

“How’d he die?”

Arvin was taken aback, though he knew that question was coming. His jaw clenched, as did his fist by his side. If the Pastor noticed, he didn’t speak on it, barely lifting his eyes from the document resting on his desk.

“Suicide, after the war.”

“And your mother?”

He took his lip in between his teeth, feeling the skin break, the tears well in his eyes for reasons he would excuse as the pain he was inflicting.

“Cancer. It happened when I was young, I didn’t barely even know her.”

The pastor looked up, slimming his eyes. This time he did notice the glimmering droplets, welling up in his chestnut colored eyes, threatening to fall. He appreciated the boy’s attempt to keep his emotions in check in front of his would be superior, leaning back into his chair.

“It’s alright, boy. You’re allowed to cry, it was your mother.” His southern accent was thick like molasses, his words drawing out. Arvin still felt that it wasn’t acceptable, though, so he only sniffled and directed his chin further up towards the ceiling. He stood there for a while, nerves running through his every cell. It was electric, like white lighting making its way through his veins at a painstakingly slow pace.

“Right then.”

The pastor stood, walking towards Arvin and his uncle. His expensive loafers tapped along the cold floor as he went, the sound pestering to the ears of Arvin, taunting him. He reached a soft hand out, which the boy standing opposite to him gladly took. He observed how the Pastor’s hand was without scars, calluses. Anything that would point to evidence of him being a killer, doing his own dirty work (or “the Lord’s work” as he liked to put it).

“Welcome to the family, son.”

And as Arvin smiled widely and shook his hand with an iron grip, he began to wonder what his new life would entail doing the “Lord’s work”.

He thought he had a pretty good idea, but boy, was he wrong.

“So, how’d it go?”

It was later, and Arvin was sitting with one his most favorite people, Y/n. The pair were resting in an open field, the wildflowers around her just almost competing with the beauty she held. He bashfully looked to the dirt under his shoes, noticing how only inches away, her hands picked at the damp grass.

“Went well, I think. He told me I’m ‘part of the family now’.”

She smiled at him, and in that moment with her hair so widely astray, and wearing that pale blue dress he adored so much, Arvin’s heart felt a certain emotion he hadn’t necessarily felt for someone at this multitude before. He had felt it for Lenora, his mother, his aunt and uncle. But it was different, then. Because now as he sat with her by his side, his love for her was realized at its full potential.

She began to ramble on, congratulating him on becoming a member of her father’s so called “family”, telling him how proud she was. He couldn’t keep focused on the sweet words that were falling from her lips like honey, though, as he was too caught up in his own head, his own thoughts.

“Arv?” She asked, voice laced with slight concern, but mostly with curiosity.

“Sorry, darlin’. Just thinking.”

She blushes, it’s the first time he’s called her that before. She tries to carry on conversation, though with her heart beating through that pretty dress of her’s, it was a bit difficult.

“About what?” She questioned, doing her very best not to pry too far, to be invasive in the very reserved Arvin’s mind.

Truthfully? He was promising himself that he would marry her one day, make her his wife. But telling her that he was only thinking “‘bout the future” would have to do. I mean, truthfully, he really was!

So he answered her, and she was content with said answer, abandoning the subject and returning to many praises for Arv. The standards for the “family” were high, and though she believed in him fiercely, she knew that at his core Arvin was the sweetest soul she’d ever met, and she was skeptical he could put that aside to do whatever the job would require.

“Arvin?”

He looked up, and she nearly lost her breath. It was Arvin’s sunkissed skin, tanned from working under the hot sun, the beams beating down on him. Or perhaps it was the freckles that lightly dusted his crooked nose, like a constellation from the cosmos above. Maybe even it was the mop that sat on his head, the color all the same of those sweet brown eyes of his. Whatever it was, she felt it could only mean one thing.

Y/n Y/l/n was confident she loved Arvin Russell.

“Hmm?” He asked, tilting his head like a confused canine. Adorably endearing, she thought.

And though she had much to say, she was afraid that if he were the dog in question, then the puppy had got her tongue, so to say.

“Y/n/n?” The boy said, nudging her with his elbow, making a melodious giggle erupt from her chest. “What, cat got your tongue?” Arvin teased, and she only shook her head and smiled, as he had no idea how correct he really was.

“You could say that.”

The two shared laughs over the exchange, and at some point (neither of them are quite sure when, how, or who leaned in first), their lips connected in a short and sweet kiss. It seemed that it only lasted for a moment, and as soon as they pulled apart, Arvin and Y/n both were dying for more.

But they resisted, Arvin reaching out a cautious hand to entangle with hers. She bashfully grinned, as did he (though he did his best to resist).

“Y/n, I really like you.” He had said, his thumb running small circles upon her skin. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you like me too.” He laughed, nervous notes to the sound.

“And well, I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfr-”

And with a light groan, Y/n had wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing both of them to the ground. She connected their lips, the kiss so oddly blunt, an attack on his lips that he had no plan of fighting off. His hands found her hair, and her’s moved to the sides of his face, holding him so tightly, as if she was afraid he would let go.

“Yes.” She pulled away panting, her lips swollen, his flushed. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Arvin.”

They smiled as bright as the setting sun above them, and Arvin pulled her close as she buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. They stayed like that ‘till the sun went down and the stars came out of hiding, the cool summer breeze blowing around them. They both still felt it, then, the love they had only just began to realize was there. And they would continue to feel it for years to come.

Like when Arvin would get back from a job, sometimes with blood splattered on his crisp white shirts, his dirty work getting, well, dirty. She would slowly peel it from his body, taking care to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She would do her best to wash the crimson stains from the fabric, sighing if it was seeming to be of no use. Arvin would come up behind her where she was working at the sink, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Arv,” she would start, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, “damn thing won’t budge.” Arvin would just chuckle, reaching up a gentle hand, gentle only for her, to tuck the hair behind her ear, quietly speaking.

“Well I think it looks pretty good, darlin’. It’ll do just fine.” He would spin her around to face him, and pepper small kisses on her skin, smiling at her reaction. And if he was hurt, she would take care to use a warm washcloth, wiping the scarlet splatters from his creamy complexion.

The juxtaposition of the shades was always bewildering for her, oddly beautiful in a way. She never said so, though, only muttering praises of how proud she was, how strong he is, things like that. And Arvin would watch her, honey colored eyes following her as she moved about to fix him right up. No pain would have any real effect on him, not when she was there to reassure him, make him whole again.

As Arvin moved up in their small town world, in the “family”, he remained just as kind, just as gentle. Nothing really changed, no, only the lines on his forehead deepening and the crows feet becoming darker when he smiled; And Y/n’s role, as well. She stopped cleaning him up, stopped trying to rid his shirts of bloody reminders of his living. Arvin seemed to no longer be “painting walls’, but rather making sure jobs were done, everyone was staying in their places.

And things led to another, and all of a sudden Y/n and Arvin were moving into a big house, bigger than Arvin had ever even been in before. Deals and arrangements were made, settlements too.

One regular Tuesday, Arvin came home from what Y/n could tell had been a long, long, day. He was exhausted, but had this unmistakable look of excitement and joy plastered to his face. He had come in bursting through the door, not even taking off his hat or overcoat before making his way over to Y/n and kissing her silly.

“Well hello to you, too, Arv.” She laughed, amusement and curiosity both equally swirling around in her brain, wondering what could possibly have inspired this behavior.

“Things are happening, sweetheart, good, good things.” He took her hands in his, briefly shaking them before planting a kiss to them and walking away, a big smile on his face. And truth be told, not that she would admit it, it scared the Hell outta her. She wasn’t quite sure as to why, but something was itching at her brain, warning her that whatever was brewing wasn't a good thing. But nevertheless, she maintained her grin, painted lips never faltering.

The next day, when the “good things” were supposed to be happening, Arvin was seriously wondering why on God’s green Earth he had expected this to be easy.

“Come again, son?”

Arvin swallowed, shifting on his feet. He mentally scolded himself for ending up in this position again, standing in front of the Pastor’s desk, all kinds of confused. But it had to be this way, it was for the best, he knew. The sun shone through the window above the desk in front of him, right into his eyes, nearly blinding him. The Pastor didn’t really care, though.

“I’m asking for your blessing to ask Y/n’s hand in marriage, sir.”

The older man slowly nodded in understanding, taking a long drag from the expensive cigar between his fat fingers, the gold ring on his pinky also shining brightly under the harsh sun’s light.

“I just thought that after our arrangement-”

“Arvin, I don’t regret making you an heir, I don’t.” He stated, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “Hell, I can feel something big and bad coming, boy, you understand? I know God’s will is holding out on us, on this family. But it’s running thin.”

The young man clenched his jaw, internally cringing on what that might mean to the family, for the family, what it meant for Y/n. He bit his tongue, feeling the iron seep onto his taste buds.

“And I know those damn Teagardins are plotting, they’re plotting for our downfall. Making you next in line is something they won’t see coming, and I trust it’ll stay that way. But I don’t quite understand

“Well I love your daughter, I love her so much that it hurts. And if worst comes to worst…” he stopped, his bottom lip wavering for a moment, trying to carefully dance around the different outcomes of this conversation. “I feel I’ll be better able to protect her if we’re married, if she’s truly mine.” That part might have been a lie. Y/n has never been his, never would be. She was her own person, outside Arvin, outside the family. It was what he loved about her above all else.

The Pastor was quiet for a moment contemplating his response, calculating it.

“Would you die for her?”

“Yes.” The answer came without thought, it was automatic for Arvin.

The Pastor smiled widely, lifting his arms.

“So, when’s the wedding, Arv?

Turns out, it was exactly a year, a month, and 6 days until Y/n and Arvin would tie the knot. Arvin had spent time, waiting to find the perfect moment to ask her the big question. He had decided on a night where the moon was bright and the sky was clear. They sat together in what they had donned “their” field, the greenery around them rustling in the wind. Though he was nervous, he had delivered a stunning speech that had taken poor Y/n’s heart by force. It ended up with both of them crying like babies and a shiny ring on Y/n’s finger.

The wedding itself had taken place on a beautiful summer’s day, and Y/n had worn a pretty white dress that had made Arvin almost faint when he saw her, standing there on her father’s arm. She was all decked out in the most expensive diamonds and pearls, courtesy of her father, making her shine like a crystal of sorts.

It was the best night of her life, Arv’s too. But the joy they had felt must have an inevitable end, as the worst night (Arvin’s too) was soon to follow.

It had been an ambush, the death of the Y/l/n family. The death toll had managed to wrack up every member immediate member of the esteemed mob family, including the Pastor, his wife, and their two sons. A bomb planted in the trunk of their Cadillac that had gone off, placed there by who knows.

When Arvin had heard, his immediate reaction was to thank God that Y/n had decided to stay with him that day, to go lay in the fields just the two of them. Immediately after she had been told, she had fallen into Arvin, her entire body weight being put into his arms. Sobs wracked through her frame, her tears dampening Arvin’s yellow button up.

Once she had “come to”, Y/n had grown to be furious rather than sad. As when you look at the lineage of her family, look at the ranks of the mob and who’s to rise to power when the one in front of them dies, well Arvin was right after Y/n’s big brother, Jamie.

And Y/n had loved her big brother, she had loved him very much and would like to believe that Arvin, her sweet, sweet Arvin, would never do anything of that multitude just to satiate his hunger and appetite for power. The hunger for power she wasn’t even aware he possessed. But how in the Hell was she even supposed to be sure?

“I want to believe you, Arv, I do. But I can’t! It don’t make any damn sense, Arvin!”

“You really think that low of me, Y/n/n?”

Y/n had been shouting, trying to confront him for a crime he hadn’t committed. But Arvin was calm as he spoke, his eyes only watering and his voice only bordering on wavering. Y/n reached a trembling hand to her scalp, pulling lightly on her roots. The tears slipping down her face were hot and salty and she hated it so much.

“What else am I supposed to think?” She lifted an arm, sniffling before putting her other one on her waist, the blue of her dress, the same dress Arvin adored so much, just barely matching what was to become of her mood. She was started to regress, the red hot anger from before transforming to a stormy blue of unsure waters.

“My whole family is dead, and it just so happened that you asked me to stay with you the day they died! My whole family is dead!” She screamed, her voice a crescendo of sorts. “And everyone is clean, Arv, except you. You got the motive, you got the alibi, I’ll give you that much.” She paused, briefly wiping her nose and looking to the blank wall to the left of her father’s office. “It’s funny;” she dryly chuckled, and Arvin looked up.

“You went from doing my daddy’s dirty work to gettin’ some poor bastard to do your own. Ironic isn’t it?”

Arvin stepped towards her, pain twisting his insides up to see his best girl afraid of him, cowering away from his touch.

“You still have me, Y/n. I’m your family.”

She looked to her feet and back to him, shaking her head.

“No, Arv. You’re not. And you will be sorry for what you did to him, to all of them. You will be.” She said, walking away with her heels clicking heavily on the wooden floors. Arvin stood still for a while, not quite sure where to go next. But it dawned on him as the stained glass shone down on his feet in the most poetic manner, that he was already there.

So he dragged his feet along with him, breaths ragged and short, his head slowly tilting up towards the glorious light. He only had to go a few feet, before he sat down in the old leather chair, the only emotions he felt being those of an imposter. He thought back to all the nervous conversations he’d had with the pastor while he was sitting in that chair, a trembling Arvin usually standing opposite, awaiting instruction.

He darted his eyes across the mahogany surface in front of him, looking at all the various things that he only could associate with Y/n’s father. His valued cigar box, the crystalline tray that rested next to it. (He swore he could still smell the fresh smoke, wafting from the little dish.) He opened it, the latch clinking before his hand reached in and his fingers clasped around one of the thick rolls of tobacco. Before he could light it, he felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, and dropped it back into the box, slamming the lid.

He laid back, resting his weary head. Arvin took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, before falling into a not so peaceful slumber.

He was only woken minutes later, Joseph, Y/n’s uncle, wanting to know if Arvin had seen her lately. He shook his head, muttering an annoyed “No”. Joseph got the idea relatively quickly, exiting the room. He heard the chapel’s doors close, taking that as his queue to leave once he saw the time. So he grabbed his hat and his coat, leaving the office and making his way through the dimly lit space. His attention was caught, though, by the cross by the front pews, so beautifully shining. Arvin put down his things, and walked over to the pew, sitting down on the uncomfortable hardwood. He bowed his head, putting his interlocked fingers utop the surface in front of him.

He hadn’t done this in awhile, this whole praying thing. It seemed naive in his way of life, with the things that happened around him, the people lost. But nonetheless, if ever, now was a good time to try.

“Heavenly Father, I, I, uh, I need to talk to you. To, uh, set the record straight.” His hands were sweaty, tears welling in his eyes.

“Y/n, she’s- well she’s the love of my life, God, and I don’t think she loves me anymore. Hell, she wants me dead. But I don’t blame her, I couldn’t ever. Not after...” he paused, his bottom lip shaking, “Not if she thinks I killed her family. But I didn’t, Father, I didn’t and I could never. But she don’t see that. I need her to see that.” He raised his voice, the bitter droplets rolling down his reddened cheeks, hitting his shoes.

“I can’t live without her, I won’t. So I guess I’m askin’ you a favor, Lord. Just… let her know I didn’t do it, that I would never hurt her.” His voice cracked, his words barely audible, not that whoever was listening cared.

“That I love her so much.”

Arvin muttered something of an “Amen”, and then just sat there for he wasn’t sure how long. His silence was interrupted by a mellow and raw voice, cutting through the silence like the sharpest dagger.

“It was the Teagardin family. I just found out.”

Arvin stood and turned so fast he dizzied himself, having to hold onto the back of the pew for stability. His bottom lip quivered, his flushed features gaining a confused look.

“Y/n/n? How long you been there?” He questioned, not bothering to wipe his eyes. She shifted from one foot to the other, fumbling with her hands.

“Long enough.”

There was a mutual understanding at her few words from the two of them, and an apology within them all the same. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose runny and her overall appearance disheveled. Despite that, just the fact that she was there, to him, made her the most beautiful girl in the world.

Arvin could tell she was holding herself back, her emotions, too, as she started to speak, barely able to get through a sentence as she rambled about how she shouldn’t have assumed things, and that it wasn’t right of her to accuse her beloved of something so dire. But none of it mattered to Arvin as he strode towards her, her words only ceasing when he finally wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m so sorry, Arv.” She sobbed, gripping onto him for dear life. That was all she said, repeating it over and over again with the exception of “I love you” also being reiterated.

Her husband spoke over her hushed tone, saying “It’s alright, doll, I know. You were right to think that, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” They continued that way for some time until they both regained their bearings, Arvin wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking down the front stairs of the chapel.

“Let’s go home, sweet girl.” He had said, so they did. Arvin kissed the side of her head, regarding once more how he loved her, before starting the ride home, his hand on her thigh the whole time, not wanting to let her go for even a second.

His mind was plagued with thoughts of the past, and he remembered an old saying he had heard long ago. What was it? Ah, you know what they say.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

·。·。·。

how we feeling folks did we like? gimme feedback if u wanna! mwah love u, take care of urself

xx hj

136 notes · View notes

ifmywishescametrue · 3 years

Note

hnnng, could you please do either “you’re sick and you need to rest” or “you could’ve died” for stevetony? Worrying about an SO is a soft spot for me🥺

thank you for sending me this prompt! hope you like it :) (warning for mentions of torture, btw, but nothing graphic)

In that cave in Afghanistan, Tony keeps seeing flashes of things. Moments from life before all of this come to him in between the shocks of electricity when his head is forced underwater, while he’s sputtering and gasping for breath and can’t understand the words being screamed at him.

He sees Steve more than anything. Sees blue eyes and a bright smile and if he tries hard enough he can almost hear the laugh that comes with it. Sometimes it’s that first day again, with roaming hands and a rush to get off in the bathroom of some party he didn’t want to be at, followed by an easy grin and the promise to do that again sometime. He sees Steve on his couch surrounded by take out containers and the reassurance that absolutely none of it counted as a date. Morning pancakes that supposedly meant nothing, and Steve sneaking under the desk in his office. Pencil scratches on sketch pads that used to wake him up, cold feet pressed against his calves, his favorite muffins from that bakery downtown that used to just appear out of nowhere when he was having a bad day, and the way that Steve would never admit that it was him doing it.

It’s that last night he remembers the most. He can almost hear the words whispered in the dead of night and remembers the ones he held back, because Tony has never known how to be completely honest. He didn’t know how to say that this casual friends with benefits things was starting to feel less like friends and more like love, but when he lays down with his aching chest and bleeding fingers on the poor excuse for a cot at night, he wishes more than anything that he could have found the words before.

So he builds the suit and practices the right thing to say for when he makes it out. If he makes it out. If this ridiculous plan of his doesn’t result in him dying somewhere in the middle of the desert, just another body added to the pile of deaths he’s caused.

He almost doesn’t believe it when he lives. His knees hit the scorching sand, and Rhodey’s arms are right there, and still all he can think about is whether or not Steve mourned at all when they all thought he was dead.

In the plane, after the hospital at the army base and all the IV lines to fix the three months of dehydration and malnutrition, he works up the nerve to ask about it.

“Steve,” he starts, voice hoarse enough that he pauses to clear his throat, unwilling to sound so affected. “Is he - did he -” He stops, settling for asking, “Have you talked to him?”

Rhodey leans forward on his elbows, closing some of the distance that the aisle between them created. He pulls out his phone and taps for a moment before turning the screen to face Tony. Steve’s name is at the top, and Rhodey scrolls through the string of messages with enough speed that Tony can’t actually read any of them, but he gets the point anyway.

“This is just the last couple of weeks,” Rhodey says. “Never stopped asking for updates, especially when we found you. Called so much I told him I was going to put a virus on his phone to redirect him to random strangers if he kept it up. He didn’t listen.”

Tony swallows around the lump in his throat and looks away towards the window.

“We weren’t supposed to be anything,” Tony murmurs, watching the way the sky is fading from orange into blue, clouds obscuring the ocean below them. It’s still a few more hours until California, where he hopes that Steve is still waiting for him. “We said it was nothing.”

Rhodey hums, both noncommittal and suggestive at the same time, and Tony turns his head back to look at him. “What?”

Rhodey shrugs, “I didn’t say anything.”

“But you want to.”

“I don’t spill secrets that aren’t mine to tell.”

Tony’s brow furrows. “What does that even mean?”

“It means he’ll be there when we land, and if you try to pretend that it’s still nothing, I’m putting your ass back on the plane until you find your common sense somewhere.”

Tony bites his lip and shakes his head, staring down at his hands, “I wasn’t going to pretend. I just - I didn’t know if he cared anymore. It’s been a few months, and we weren’t… There was never a promise for commitment. He could’ve found somebody else. Anyone else.”

Rhodey gives him a look, that fondly exasperated one he does so well. “Nice to know you��re still a dumbass.”

It startles a laugh from and makes his abused lungs twinge, but it feels good to laugh again. “Takes more than a few months to knock the dumbass out of me.”

The topic falls away after that, because Tony can’t say what he feels, and Rhodey knows anyway. He switches the conversation over to the start of the baseball season that Tony missed, complaining about the Phillies like Tony’s heard every year since he was fifteen. It’s easy and passes the time until Tony ends up falling asleep for the rest of the flight.

His muscles are stiff and uncomfortable when he wakes with a start a couple of hours later, heart racing and on edge when he doesn’t immediately recognize his surroundings. Rhodey puts a hand on his knee, and Tony jumps initially before calming. It makes Rhodey’s eyes turn sad for a moment, then it’s hidden away again.

“Come on,” Rhodey says softly, gripping Tony by the elbow of his good arm to help him up. “We’re here.”

There’s still a slight limp in his step when he walks off the plane from bruises and scars that are still healing. He sees Pepper first, with her red hair shining in the sun, but his gaze gets stuck on the person next to her.

Steve straightens from where he’s leaning against the black car, and Tony wishes he was in better condition so he could run to him. It would have been romantic, he thinks, like something out of one of those movies he’d never even seen before Steve came into his life. There would have been some grand, sweep-him-off-his-feet moment with declarations and pretty words and violins coming from somewhere.

Instead Steve meets him halfway, with a quivering chin like he might start to cry. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is too long, and his five o’clock shadow is almost an actual beard now.

He’s the best thing Tony’s ever seen.

“Hey,” Tony says, because he can’t remember a single one of those things he planned before.

Steve smiles, and it’s only a little shaky, “Hey yourself.”

Rhodey and Pepper disappear with the shutting of the car door, leaving the two of them standing there in the middle of the empty runway. Steve takes the first step, but Tony takes the second, and then Steve’s chest is beneath his cheek, and his arms are around his shoulders.

Tony holds on to him like a lifeline, fingers clutched in his t-shirt, and he can feel the warmth of him seeping into his skin. Steve’s hands are all over, as if checking to make sure he’s all actually there and in one piece.

Steve steps back a little, a small frown on his face. He reaches his hand up to Tony’s chest, and Tony tenses at the first light press against the reactor case.

“What…” Steve trails off, eyes flickering between Tony’s chest and his face, and Tony undoes two of the buttons on his shirt to show him.

The scars around it are marred and red, with raised edges that serve to make it look even worse than it is. Steve makes a sound like a choked back sob, and Tony grabs his wrist to put his hand on the reactor. It’s a little terrifying to let him touch it, but if there’s anyone he knows would never hurt him, it’s Steve.

“It’s okay,” Tony murmurs. “It keeps me alive.”

“You could’ve died,” Steve whispers, fingers spreading out over the light of the reactor. “I thought you - I didn’t want to think it, but it was hard not to. Rhodey kept saying that you wouldn’t let yourself go out like that. You’d be all or nothing, and it wasn’t big enough. And Pepper, well, she basically said exactly what did happen. That you’d find a way out. I tried to believe it, too, but I just kept thinking that you could be gone, and we’d never - I’d never get the chance to make this real.”

Tony looks up at him, breath catching in his throat. “I thought about you every day, you know. I almost told you how I felt about you on that last night. Came so close to saying it, but I just -”

“I know,” Steve says, and with his other hand he cups Tony’s cheek. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

“Yeah?”

Steve nods, leaning in closer, and his lips brush against Tony’s when he says, “Yeah, sweetheart, I know.”

#stevetony #prompts #i literally love you for sending me this #asks #my writing #my fic #stony #superhusbands

76 notes · View notes

bluebellhairpin · 3 years

Text

The Bane of Zeke Jaeger

Zeke Jaeger X Fem!Reader

A/N: It’s like an enemies to lovers but they’re both still enemies at the end. (Bonus to anyone who can spot the cameo btw.)- Nemo

Summary: You and Zeke have been at each others throats for years. A time comes when he takes it a little too far, and ever since then - with your new power - you decide to start plotting his downfall.

Warnings: Blood. Violence. Character Death. Needles. Attempted Murder. Insanity (? idk, reader get’s a little unhinged).

Listening to: ‘Beautiful is Boring’ by Bones UK - ‘Give me scars and stripes. It does not please me to be easy on any of your eyes.’

Masterlist

There was something about Zeke Jaeger. From how calculating he was to how he simply existed. But whatever that something was - it never failed to piss you off.

From the moment you both met in the Military, you were at each other's throats. You more so than he. The fact you were both candidates for becoming titan shifters sure didn’t help. He was always so condescending, he knew he was the smartest person in the room and he acted like it too - if only to just rile you up. His only redeeming quality in your eyes was the fact he was so useless in physical training.

Many times in your younger years did you want to simply pop a bullet through the back of his head while you were out.

No one would know it was you - that you were sure of.

You see, that's the thing you always had the upper hand in. You never got caught doing anything - it was always Zeke tattling on you that got you into trouble at all. Bastard.

And now that you were older - yourself entering your late twenties - that same child-like distaste for each other hadn’t changed. If anything it turned, rearing its ugly head to reveal spite, and resent in the form of a very large grudge.

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

“I’ve been away for how long and you still haven’t removed the stick from up your ass, huh?”

“Shame on you, Ezekiel.” you gritted, purposefully changing his name, grabbing a fistfull of his beard and tugging in down, “All that time spent alone to think and you still can’t speak to a lady properly.”

He reached up a hand, squeezing your wrist hard enough to hurt, but you didn’t let go, only held onto his facial hair even harder.

“Let go, you fiend.”

“You let go.”

“I told you first.”

“And I told you second.”

“Are you finished flirting yet?” Reiner said, his head resting on his hand from across the table. You immediately sent a glare over to him, your grip on Zeke as firm as ever.

“He started it.”

“I was not talking to you, (y/n).” Reiner huffed.

You whipped your head back to Zeke, now grabbing his ear and on it tugging it too.

“You asshole, you need to stop playing up so much!”

“Stop it, that hurts!”

“That’s the whole point!” you said, “Apparently having your ass handed to you by that Ackerman guy wasn’t enough!” He had the audacity to pout at you, and you let out a groan of disgust before letting him go. Finally.

“Now that you’re both done, can we get on with it?”

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

You felt very lucky - very, very lucky - to have such a prime spot for such a lovely show.

While Zeke had grown between the boy back in training until the man he was now, he still lacked when it came to non-titan fighting. And right now, Reiner wasn’t. Even though the younger male was mentally struggling since he came back from Paradis, he had all that experience up his sleeves that Zeke did not.

“Having fun?” Zeke said, only now deciding to take off his glasses and set them beside you on the bench.

“The only thing lacking is the satisfaction I’d get in having my own foot in your face.”

“Naturally.” he grunted.

“Reiner’s going to go for your face next.” You said, a sly smile creeping up the edges of your lips. Zeke squinted at you.

“Sure he is.” Your smile only broadened when he turned.

He didn’t trust you - even though you never once lied to him - and that only made it sweeter when Reiner had managed to kick Zeke��s face into the dust with just five moves. You meandered over to him, crouching next to him as he sat up.

“Good thing you took those glasses off, hey Ezekiel?” Now he scowled at you, and you winked at him before setting off again. But you felt a hand wrap around your ankle and pull.

You landed face-first in the dirt, palms grazed and nose now sore. As you sat up you saw as red as the blood that leaked from your nose. You faintly remember hearing Reiner call for Porco before you flung yourself back at Zeke, immediately clawing at his neck and eyes before someone tried to get behind you and pull you off him.

“You’re such a pain,” Zeke spluttered, “No wonder you're not getting a titan.”

The arms around you held even tighter as you thrashed and yelled about killing Zeke.

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

A moment presented itself to you - much as it did every night.

Sneak to the kitchen. Grab a knife. Loiter back upstairs to Zeke’s room. Cut his throat while he slept.

You fantasized about that far too often to be considered healthy, but never in your life had it been as tempting as it was right now.

Zeke had never once brought up your rejected application for becoming a real, proper warrior - one with a titan to call your own. Even he knew how touché that subject was for you.

You made it so far as the kitchen, even picking out a nice knife, before being stopped at the doorway on the way out.

“Who’re you?”

“I have an offer for you.” They said, stepping forward.

“No salespeople please.” You countered, even thought this clearly was not a salesman. He laughed.

“What I have won’t cost you anything. Much.” he said, “But I heard you want a titan.”

“And?” you said, quirking an eyebrow up at him.

“I have one, just for you.”

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

You thanked whoever decided you’d be this titan that this place was so far away from any city. But you also wondered why there was a proper viewing area.

Across from you was a woman whose posture mirrored your own, however there were chains on her wrists and ankles, keeping her limbs stretched. Unlike you, she was also unconscious, her head lulled forwards and her long braid had fallen over her shoulder.

You’d been given strict instructions to wait until the viewing box was full before you were to puncture yourself with the needle you were given. In passing they’d muttered something about a war criminal and a thief, and you wondered where exactly this woman had come from. Surely not Paradis.

You glanced up at the box again, and decided it was full enough. But you did a double take. Zeke was here.

Of all the people, why him?

You plunged the needle into your arm, and injected the serum. Then your mind blanked, and nothing. Nothing until you felt something in your mouth, and a warm dribble going down your throat. A jolt of electricity went down your spine, and you grew.

Then you saw everything.

Black steam clouded the edges of your vision, and you rose to stand on your new feet. You felt a yell rise in your throat, and as it let go you were met with a deafening scream - no doubt one heard from miles.

There was another flash of lightning, and you turned to see a rather underwhelming version of Zeke’s beast titan. You felt yourself letting out a chuckle, the sound coming out much deeper and distorted than your proper voice. You bent down to his eye-level, almost needing to bend your knees properly to get a proper look.

“Hey shortie.”

“Hey big girl.” he said, “You going to stop being a bitch now?”

“To you?” you asked, and he hummed a yes. You feigned thought for a moment before laughing again. “Of course not. Plotting your demise is much more fun.”

And plotting his demise you sure did.

#zeke jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger one shot #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan one shot #shingeki no kyojin one shot

113 notes · View notes

xxcureangelxx · 3 years

Note

5, 9, 10, 13, 20, 21, 24, 25, 28, 30-35, 38-42, 44-46, 50, 52, 54, 60-62, 66, 71-74, 86-91, 96, 100! 😊

okay I literally have no clue how old this is and if I'm even taking the questions from the right post but here goes I guess? 🙈

5. What is your favorite Color?

PURPLE

9. How tall are you?

about 1,70 meters or 5'7"

10. What shoe size are you?

size 40-41, I think that's about 8 in US sizes?

13. What talents do you have?

uhhh good question... not sure if it counts but I guess I'm quite good at a lot if things but can't do anything extraordinarily well?

20. Are you religious?

Absolutely not. Due to family history and a lot of other things I'm actually against it a lot but people can do whatever they feel like is right for them as long as they don't harm others with it.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

Yes, quite a lot actually. practically grew up in hospitals as a baby because of kidney issues, broke both my legs with 4 years old, had to revisit for tests a lot during my childhood because of the kidney issue. it calmed down afterwards until I was back in hospital last year because of my terrible mental health and I'm currently in a rehabilitation clinic for it as well.

24. Baths or showers?

Shower's because we don't have a bathtub

25. What color socks are you wearing?

currently none, I love going barefoot, but usually I wear white, gray or black. I know... I'm a bad gay.. no rainbow socks (;ŏ﹏ŏ)

28. What type of music do you like?

you know.... I hate this question with a passion even though I love music so I'll just throw in my yt-playlist here and everyone who's interested can look through it to get a picture xD not sorted in any way and not a conclusive list at all, I just add songs as I find them

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

mostly just one at a time but I've got two different ones. one is the normal fluffy kinda pillow, the other is made of some kinda foam material and rather thin.

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

I'm always lying on the side! have been doing that since I was a baby too.

32. How big is your house?

compared to what? 🙈 I'd say decent size for 5 people to live in, would have space for 1-2 more if rooms were used differently but definitely not enough to comfortably live with 12 or even more people like my family used to. we've got like 3 proper sleeping rooms (one of which is the attic so not very nice in terms of heat and the staircase is smack in the middle of the room), a kitchen, a dining room, a big living room, a tiny bathroom that barely fits a toilet and shower, and the basement is a mix of storage, electrics and stuff, washing room/utility room and it's got another smaller room that's been turned back into a small workshop but used to be the room of my brother and later my grandmother.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

I guess this is where it shows that I'm german but we usually just eat bread (preferably whole grain) with cheese or slices of salami or ..meat sausage? is that a proper translation? 🤨 idk... it's rather simple really. on the weekend maybe buns and boiled eggs. on the occasion that I'm too tired for it or don't have enough time I eat cereals but it's not very common when I'm at work/school

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

No, and I don't want to

35. Have you ever tried archery?

Yes!! I did last year when I was in the hospital and it was super fun! was quite good at it as well, even for my first try 😤

38. What's the longest you've ever gone without sleep?

I think about 3 days? if we count "barely unconscious for a few hours" as sleep that is... otherwise no clue...my memory of the bad sleepless time is quite hazy lol

39. Do you have any scars?

yeah, quite a few tbh. got 2 huge ones from surgeries due to my kidney issues, well they look like 2 but it's actually multiple ones since they simply cut open party of the old ones again, tiny hooman apparently have very little skin. then I got some other ones here and there from accidents, general dumbness, etc, like when I cut through my sunday morning bun and almost cut half of the tip of my finger off because my mother sharpened the knife and didn't tell me or that time as a kid I couldn't wait for my ironing pearl pictures to be done and burned myself on the hot iron, mostly stuff like that.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

I mean.. if they're a secret... how would I know? ;) not sure if it counts that it took me months to realize I had a crush on my best friend and the feelings were reciprocated and I was too blind to see the signs?

41. Are you a good liar?

Nope. People actually think I'm lying more often than I lie... so.... :/

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I'm.. honestly not sure what this one means? like, am I able to judge what kind of character a person has after barely meeting them or smth? if so, I'm terrible at it

44. Do you have a strong accent?

in german? nope. in english? hmm hard to judge since I rarely hear myself speak. I think the stuff I do know how to pronounce is mostly okay but since I learned it through reading I'm simply unsure of a lot of pronunciations. 'also'.... I can not for the life of me pronouns that word no matter how many times I hear it... it's kinda become a quirk after some classmates pointed it out to me and I'm incredibly aware how terrible I say the word but.... just can't get rid of it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

45. What is your favorite accent?

I.. actually really love the way my best friend talks? 👉👈 they're french btw. just... typical me for struggling to understand them though, already terrible at it in german too...

46. What is your personality type?

honestly, I don't think I can answer that. I'm big on self loathing and everything's pretty shitty so, no thanks

50. Left or right handed?

Right handed. but does it even count id I'm bad at doing things with that hand too? lol

52. Favorite food?

hmmmm tough question... not the biggest fan of food in general a lot of the time... probably Züricher Geschnetzeltes

54. Are you a clean or a messy person?

Definitely messy. my allergies did not like this post trying to clean and tidy up more often though. my depression does not like this post either

60. Do you talk to yourself?

sometimes. quite a bit when watching movies or if I mess stuff up

61. Do you sing to yourself?

barely. got a lot of bad experiences with that so i keep my singing to a minimum. my shower is a great listener though

62. Are you a good singer?

I was in a choir for a few years when I went to 'middle school' and I had like one solo part once but other than that I can't really say because I barely ever sing in front of people

66. Do you like long or shor hair?

this question is currently my absolute nemesis.. I've got suuuper duper long hair and have had it ever since elementary school and I used to be super happy with it and sometimes I still am happy with it but other days, depending on where I'm at genderwise, I absolutely hate it and I just want to take the closest scissors and cut it all off... currently haven't had the guts to look for new hair styles though... but in other people? or women more specifically? I love long hair 🥺

71. What makes you nervous?

Or the shorter question: what doesn't make me nervous... I'd say pretty much everything has got the potential to make me nervous. I'm an overthinker, anxiety is a big thing for me and ptsd makes me scared of almost everything. so.. yeah... sucks to be me sometimes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

72. Are you scared of the dark?

Yes, very

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

I try not to but sadly I sometimes do, even if it's not my place to. I really don't like that part and hope I'll be able to learn not to sometime

74. Are you ticklish?

Yes and I hate it 😭

86. What are you allergic to?

again, easier question: what am I not allergic to... it's... a lot... like, really a lot. with the test on the skin of my arm I reacted to every single substance and the more thorough blood test lead to much of the same result. the absolute worst are birch trees (pitty, love those), then the usual pollen of pretty much every tree or flower, all animals with fur or feathers, dust and... yeah list goes on and on, you get the picture... :/

87. Do you keep a journal?

no.. have tried to multiple times in the past but never made it more than a week... too depressing to write and read... the therapist at the rehab clinic is currently forcing me to try a positivity diary for the millionths time, can't even get that done each day even though I'm doing it on my phone and get notifications to do it each evening...

88. What do your parents do?

making my life hell lol.. okay on a serious note, my father was a car electrician, he's retired by now, my mother is a housewife, she used to work different jobs before her first kid, later on she took care of my grandmother who was suffering from dementia, got some money and retirement points for that too.

89. Do you like your age?

I-... I don't know? it's weird because I both feel a lot younger and a lot older than I am rn....

90. What makes you angry?

another tough question... I actually have anger issues in that way that I'm barely capable of feeling anger... used to be worse but I already worked a lot on it in therapy so there's at least some there now... in the past I simply started to cry and felt overwhelmed by sadness whenever I was supposed to feel anger... so I can't tell very well what makes me angry because I first have to realize that I'm feeling anger or more like should be feeling it....

91. Do you like your own name?

Not really, no, but I guess I finally figured out some reasons why.. I've recently started going by a bit of a different name too but only my closest friends know so far and I'm not sure if I'll be using it irl at all..

96. How did you get your name?

I'm still trying to get my mother to admit that she named me after this song but she keeps denying it.. she's a fan of this band so it would have fit.. but she keeps saying she just liked the name, no long thought process behind it..

my chosen name is a bit of a different story. an ex friend I got to know through yt gave me that nickname almost 10 years ago after I complained that you can't make a shorter nickname out of my birthname and it's also the name of s character I like, especially his voice, and... idk it just feels more gender neutral and I simply feel comfortable with it. it just fit.

100. Color of your room?

same as question 5: Purple 🥰 or... well half the walls are purple, the other half is white

phew... can't believe I made it through all of these....

in case people haven't noticed yet, I'm currently kinda getting back into tumblr? I think I've already stayed a lot longer than any times I tried getting back before. it mostly started because we've got super bad wifi at the clinc I'm at rn and reddit takes up waaayy too much mobile data and... idk, I guess I just missed the vibe of tumblr

I'm not sure how long I'll be able to stick around but we'll see

#ask game #answered #I really really do not have any clue how long this has been sitting in my inbox...#the og post was somewhere around december if I saw that correctly (๑•﹏•)#oopsie...#just hope posting goes through snd my 3 hours of hard work weren't for nothing....#edit; posting worked but tumblr messed up the formating...#I'm not gonna bother fixing that because it's late and I need sleep 😭

1 note · View note

timetowritesomefluff · 5 years

Note

hi!! Im here looking for the ships?? (I love your writing btw). Im a 16 year old female, six foot (god help me), I have red hair and blue/grey eyes.I play clarinet and also do theatre. My all-time favorite movie is the original Halloween. Im very energetic and hyper and I love really hard and really fast. I’m also very tactile and love to touch my s/o or close friends in some way at almost all times.I’m bi, so I dont really care what gender I get, but I’d prefer it from the Teen Wolf universe!!!

Omg you are so sweet, and I totally splurged for this ask. I can be sweettalked into anything flattery will get you everywhere

But babe I couldn’t decide on a ship....So I settled for three. Hope you’re not disappointed 😉, enjoy 💙

Scott

Scott would meet you when he stumbled into the band room looking for either a class or some recently escaped beastie, and lock eyes with you....

Only to dash out of the room again, more than a little confused about why his heart sputtered upon seeing that girl with the beautiful red hair that glinted in the sun.

Allison introduces you two—you and her were friends in theatre, and Allison was intrigued by your skills of observation. You’d noticed a supernatural thing here and there, and had even covered for the Pack just because you were, well, you. So Allison decided to pull you in to the pack, and you were more than willing to join the supernatural world.

The meeting went a little something like this:

Allison politely made the intros,

“Scott, this is my friend Y/N. Scott? Your mouth is just—it’s just hanging open. Say something.”

Scott blinked, and said,

“....Hi, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you, Scott.”

Stiles face palmed, muttering,

“Close enough.”

You shook Scott’s hand, electricity firing between your fingers, and smiled.

Scott STILL didn’t understand why it felt like his stomach was doing the conga, and he couldn’t stop smiling back at you.

A few weeks later, it wasn’t until Stiles pointed out the fact that Scott was still blushing an hour after you’d complimented his handwriting or something, idk his taste in pen choices (this boi would be shook no matter what you said), that Scott clued in.

From there, he was an adorable mess.

He wouldn’t for one second be put off by your height, thinking it just one of the million things that makes you a literally goddess in his eyes. Your hair, your eyes, your smile, the way you’d drink a can of freakin’ soda would be beautiful to him. It was the way you treat people, with sweetness and energy and passion that made him fall for you.

For real though, he’d be doodling his last name tagged on to the end of yours (or vice versa) after the first date.

Scott would one hundred percent be the Supportive Boyfriend, happily carrying your textbook between classes, opening doors and giving you his jacket.

But he’d also be the fun boyfriend.

You want to see Halloween for, well, Halloween? This boy has got a private drive-in movie theatre set up. You want to see the newest play they’ve got down at the community center? Well you’re gonna go sneak in and watch from the rafters, because it’s more fun that way and way more romantic.

This boy is so touch-starved that he takes every chance to make out with you, every chance to make your heart beat quicker (and believe me, he’s listening). But he’s also Scott-captain-of-toothache-sweet-McCall, and he’s the master of hand holding, swinging his arm over your shoulders, brushing your hair back and playing with the little baby hairs at the nape of your neck. This boy will have every freckle, every scar, every eyelash memorized because he just wants to know everything about you and make you feel as loved and appreciated as you deserve ♥️

Malia

Malia would literally die when she saw you. “She’s tall? And gorgeous? And can act? And she’s literally perfect?!”

When Stiles introduced you as the secret weapon of the group, aka the badass one that always had the best ideas, the logical decisions, the kickass attitude of positivity no matter the odds, Malia was strangely quiet, letting her hair fall in her face to hide the clumsy, blushy mess just a glance from your sea-glass eyes could make her.

Being a touchy person, you might have swung your arm around her strolling down the hall between classes, or in the parking lot after school.

Malia, being Malia, would automatically lean in to it (being a tactile person herself). Then she’d see who it was, turning her head and coming nose-to-nose with you.🙀

The look on her face was enough to send you into a fit of giggles, and just the sound of that was plenty enough to make her grin ear to ear.

“Can you do that again?” She’d ask softly as you began to stop. You’d look up, surprised.

Malia shrugged, blushy mess appearing.

“I like it when you laugh.”

Thus cue the cUTESt relationship in which Malia does any and everything to make you laugh, make you smile, make you happy. That means finding the absolute dumbest puns and delivering them with a straight face in the middle of a Bio test; that means knotting her fingers through yours every chance she gets because she just cannot get over how amazing it feels to have your skin sliding against hers. That means protecting you at every turn, and letting you protect her because Malia doesn’t believe for one second that you’re not just as capable of fighting however you choose, human or no. Malia would lay her head on your shoulder one day, smiling at the sight of your hand on hers, and kiss the back of it.

“I love you, Y/N,” she’d whisper, so soft and careful. You’d kiss her on the side of her head, smiling into her hair as you breathed in her woodsy scent.

“I love you too, Malia.”

Derek

Derek is hella angsty, or at least goes for the aesthetic of it.😈

But like any vaguely-aged young man, he’s not impervious to cinematic perfection. He’d end up squished in line next to you for a special promotion of Halloween. You, being adorable and outgoing, would strike up conversation. Him, being a broody leather-clad hottie, would say something snippy in return.

Buuut he noticed the way your eyes lit up when you talked about loving the movie, how you were so energetic talking with your hands and he was gripped by the strange urge to hold one.

Derek left quickly after that, and only ran into you as you, and your friends Scott and Stiles, started to meddle in the affairs of the supernatural world.

He. Was. NOT. Going. To. Fall. For. You.

He told himself like eighteen times a day, and failed each time.

Lydia didn’t fail to notice it, making little jokes here and there.

“And where is your leather-wearing bodyguard, Y/N? Out slaying dragons?”

“First of all, you’re weird. Second of all, what are the chances of dragons actually being real???”

Things only began to heat up when YOU took initiative.

Tired of all the mutual pining, the longing stares, the wagging eyebrows from stiles, and the undercurrent of admittedly sexy tension, you cornered Derek.

Buuut you hardly got two words out before his mouth was on yours, his hands in your hair.

When you two finally broke apart for air, you were stunned at the look on Derek’s face.

He was grinning, actually BEAMING. He rested his forehead against yours with a special tenderness, and whispered,

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

#teen wolf #askanswered #youpreciousdearyoudeserveallgoodthinga #teen wolf imagine #malia imagine #derek imagine #scott imagine

19 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 6 years

Text

Namjoon Soulmate AU : Wings and Thorns

Concept: Your tattoo is supposed to somehow lead you to your soulmate- but you have no idea why your soulmate is obsessed with birds and he has no idea how the plethora of blooms on his chest is supposed to help him find you at all.

Sometimes soulmate marks just make it more difficult and sometimes; this makes you want to give up looking for them all together.

Authors Note: I know I said I was going to wait to release this but tldr I couldn't fucking sit on this because it's just so sweet 💕 💕 💕

(so soft) (those collar bones) (damn)

- Both you and Namjoon have the soul mate system of tattoo’s.

- You get your tattoo before he gets his.

- At first, yours is just a bunch of curving lines, until one day you wake up to bird wings dashing against your arm- still grey and not colored like they would be if your soul mate loved you.

- And your heart drops because damn, you’ve been waiting for this for so long.

- Both of you got your Soulmark really late- like early 20′s when most people get them before they reach puberty.

- Sometimes the bird wings change- sometimes they have stripes and sometimes they don’t, sometimes they’re tucked against bodies and you can almost make out beaks whereas other times they’re blurry with movement.

- Your friend finds her soul mate after she realizes her abstract tattoo is a map of the Seoul subway system- and that’s when you start to get discouraged.

- Because most people who have your soul mate system have a map or something but you have no idea what these wings are supposed to mean and how you’re supposed to find your soulmate.

- And besides- your mark isn’t colored; your soulmate doesn’t love you- at least not yet. Why would you spend time looking for someone who doesn't want you?

- It takes a few more months for Namjoon to get his soulmate mark.

- He wakes up in the morning listening to the shrill shriek of the crows outside his window to a sharp pain on this chest.

- When he looks in the mirror there are red roses- really no more than a tangle of thorns, deep green leaves, and almost buds vining across him and winding down to his stomach.

- And all he thinks is damn- this is going to be hard to hide, but he’s also happy.

- Because the vines are a deep green- not black and white like they could be which means his soul mate already loves him. Someone out there loves him.

- After that, he has to stop wearing deep v’s, popping his collar, and wearing white shirts because the marks are so dark that they show through anything.

- And he doesn’t exactly want his soulmate mark on display to everyone- especially because of his adoring fans.

- Your tattoo’s both change pretty regularly.

- Your wings get larger- like that of an albatross, stretching across your back and shoulders (this happens when Namjoon’s flying to other countries).

- Sometimes you get full birds with bright eyes (when he’s on a role creating music). Other times it’s just a tangle of wings and what looks suspiciously like song lyrics (when his schedules too busy for him to feel much of anything at all).

- And of course, his flowers change.

- The buds open on the day’s when you feel the most yourself.

- Sometimes he looks up the meaning of the flowers that appear on his chest.

- Red amaryllis bloom on him when you are at your most confident.

- Crocuses bloom when you’re feeling happy.

- Months go by- and then a year, then another; until he realizes its been 5 and he still has no idea how he’s supposed to find you.

- He goes to conservatories and flower shops between his busy schedules- but he doesn’t find anyone with a mark that could relate to him in any way- it starts to feel like you’re more of a dream than a person.

- But then the little purple blossoms of anemone start showing up- and when he looks up the meaning of them he chokes on his coffee- because anemone means the feeling of being forsaken and fading hope.

- And spring is starting- if you loved flowers as much as he did now- he would think that you’d be happy that everything is about to be in bloom. But here are cyclamens blooming across his abdomen- which makes his breath catch because they mean resignation and goodbye.

- His strife is further heightened by the larkspur, which grows across his forearms- and he knows that you are giving up on him.

- It’s been years at this point- so he can’t really blame you. he listens to the owls at night and sends words to you through the faint bond, his hand resting on his chest- on his tattoo, the only piece of you he has.

- Please is all he said, please don’t forget about me just yet.

- You wake up with golden owl eyes peering out at you from behind the veil of a wing on your wrist.

- You live On the other side of the city- you’ve been apart of bird watching groups since you first realized your soul mark was wings and despite the fact that the birds are lovely the endeavor has brought you no closer to finding your soul mate.

- At first, you tried to follow seasonal migrations thinking that the crow-tit feathers on your shoulder had to do with the winter months.

- But then it changes to ravens and grackles and back again, the only thing that gives you pause is the fact that now your tattoo is collored now- but with most of the birds being black or white it hardly makes a difference.

- The most common bird you get from Namjoon is a pigeon, which can be anything from bright and iridescent grey to pure white.

- On those days your tattoo looks more like scars and having a soul mate mark like this feels more like a wound.

- And it’s been so long- and you still don’t feel any closer to finding him.

- So gradually- you stop following bird migrations, you stop commenting on bird watching forums, you wear long sleeve shirts and pretend your soulmate mark isn’t there.

- Namjoon wakes one day too vines of forsythia’s crossing across his chest. Yellow blooms contrasting nicely with his silver hair. And he remembers that both Hoseok and Tae are going to go see the forsythia festival today and he feels his heart jump uncomfortably and knows that he has to go.

- He can only hope that you’re going to be there- but in his heart, he knows you will be- you have to be. The flowers have been getting dimmer day by day- the color bleeding into him

- And it’s not exactly common for soul mate marks to disappear but he doesn’t want to lose the flowers- he doesn’t want to lose the possibility he has with you

- When you wake up your arms are flushed with creamy white crane feathers and blue tipped black wings. But unlike all of the other times your soul mark has changed this time there is something there.

- A flower held in a beak- the tiny yellow 4 petals of a forsythia. And you remember an advertisement you saw on your way to work of the forsythia festival that would be at it’s peak today.

- (Forsythia’s mean anticipation btw)

- So you go to the forsythia festival and bring your camera- it’s a warm day- so you wear a white shirt letting your mess of a mark show for once. Its small but it’s enough.

- You’re walking through the isles of forsythia when Namjoon spots you.

- He’s wearing a tank top to show his soulmate mark as well and he’s a little cold- but the brown branches of his mark contrast nicely against it.

- At first he doesn’t pay the cute girl any mind- after all he’s interested in finding his soul mate not someone who’s bird watching.

- At first he thinks the white wings are scars, but then you turn, and he sees the beak clutching the bloom on the inside of your wrist- the same flowers that vine across his chest

- And he walks up to you, you turn and lock eyes with him, your eyes slowly run over his chest where the flowers are blooming as he takes in your arms- bird wings.

- He should have known that would be your mark.

- He listens to the birds every morning when he wakes up- he’s written songs about wings, about Baepsae and flying away.

- No wonder it was hard for you to find him. No wonder it was almost all up to him.

- You are also amused by the flowers- you’ve always loved them so much.

- Taking every chance to walk the nature trails around Seoul on your spare weekends.

- You introduce yourself and when he looks down the flowers are blooming slowly from the forsythias to the red spider flower and white orange blossom (devotion and eternal love).

- The wings are shifting beating at a hummingbirds pace and his gaze paints green and purple-red iridescence on your skin. For a second you almost think you see a butterfly.

- You just sit for a second with him and watch your soulmate marks shift.

- Taehyung and Hoseok give you both a moment and disappear to wander the trails.

- Namjoon smiles down at you showing you his dimples that you can't help but think are sooooo freaking adorable.

- You’re smiling too- you can’t imagine that you almost gave up on a this-this connection that’s electric and so strong.

- He runs his fingers over the winds on your arms and you feel like he’s rubbing sparks into your skin.

- Namjoon smiles and plays with your fingers, as you sit down on a bench and introduce yourselves.

- A yellow petal falls into your hair, and he brushes it away before pressing his lips to yours. Feathers burst from your skin as pink roses bloom on his collarbones and you break apart laughing.

- “You are so annoying!” you say, and he looks incredulous, “Do you know how many bird watching clubs I tried to join to find you?” his smile is incandescent when he presses your hand to his face.

- Now that he’s got your skin against his he never wants to let go of the feeling.

- “I could say the same about you- I must of read every single book on the meaning of flowers.” You giggle at that and extend a finger out to trace the blooms on his neck, and he shivers. He runs his hands across your shoulders his long fingers trace feathers and fletching’s and the wings that have sprouted on your shoulders.

- At the beginning of your courtship, you meet up in most public places, where he can watch your feathers change and you can watch the garden on his chest.

- You meet up at coffee shops and he doodles flowers on your hands while you talk about your life, your work just everything.

- He understands you so well. and when he talks too you he finally feels like he’s found someone that will make his life easy- everything is almost effortless with you.

- Accidentally swapping coffees to find you both like the same amount of sugar- he picks up your favorite food by accident- somehow just knowing without asking. You run your fingers through his hair in just the way he likes. You know instantaneously by looking at him on the bad days that he needs a minute too just be quiet and listen to the birds.

- Eventually you shift too more intimate dates.

- Where you end upon top of him tracing the azaleas while he brushes his fingers over the expanse of your tattooed back. Today you have the white wings of a swan.

- He calls you” angel”, and you Jokingly call him “flower”

- And you both can't help but think that the beginning of your soul mate marks was so stupid and infuriating but now you wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

- Your apartment has birdfeeders on the balcony- and he buys you flowers every chance he gets. Somehow your home always ends up smelling like roses.

5K notes · View notes

piasservicedogfund · 4 years

Text

Dear Ellen,

I hope all is well with you!

I know you are busy but I wanted to take a moment to try and share my story with you - as I have said before on this blog, I know there are causes more worthy than mine but I think my story is important nonetheless because I’m sure there are many women other who have a similar story. So here I go...just to give you a quick idea of who I am, my name is Pia and I am a 28 year old German / American citizen who lives in a tiny German village on my own (well not completely, I do have a 10 year old rescue pug named Benny & a 19 year old rescue persian named Emerald Anastasia von Cuddlesworth - aka Aunna or Aunna Banana). I grew up a military brat and don’t really have a home town, I was born in Lebanon, TN but didn’t stay there long -- in fact, I’ve never lived anywhere longer than four years so I don’t really have a ‘home town’. My family and friends are spread out around the world, with my closest relatives being an hour and a half away and my parents being at least two flights away in Gallup, NM. I originally started this blog only as a fundraiser for a service dog to help me with my newly diagnosed auto immune disorder but as time has gone on I hope to have it serve a higher purpose as well; I want to raise awareness for a couple of things...

1. I want to help spread the word about the rare auto immune disorder that I was diagnosed with (more on that below) so that others who might be suffering with this disorder can get answers too. I also want to talk about life with an invisible disability / chronic pain or chronic illness. So many people suffer silently or face back lash when dealing with something that others can’t see. It’s time to end the stigma against invisible chronic illness / chronic pain. Just because you cannot see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there - we must all remember to be kind for “everyone we meet is fighting a hard battle”. 2. I am also a domestic abuse survivor and I want to let anyone else who is stuck in an abusive relationship (whether it is verbal abuse and manipulation, physical abuse, or both) know that no matter what life throws at you - you deserve to love yourself, to protect yourself and to fight for yourself... 3. I want to talk about Gender (and other) Bias in medicine because it is a VERY real issue that needs to be addressed! So here is a little more of my story... On June 5th 2020, after 2+ years of searching for an answer as to why I was sick and in pain all the time, I was finally diagnosed with a rare auto immune disorder called ANCA Vasculitis, or antineutrophil cytoplasmic antibody-associated vasculitis. ANCA Vasculitis is the name of a group of autoimmune conditions characterized by the inflammation of the blood vessels caused by the immune system mistakenly attacking them. There are several types of ANCA vasculitis and the exact cause (genetic / environmental / etc) is unknown, so patients diagnosed with ANCA vasculitis may display varied symptoms. The disease affects about 1 in 50,000 people. Due to the generic symptoms many of us have (chronic pain, sore throat, cough, cold and flu like symptoms, headaches, etc.) this disorder is often over looked. Many people don’t receive a diagnosis until something major has happened (organ failure for example). This disorder can be deadly if left untreated and too many women (and men) have symptoms like the above brushed off...especially if they have a history of mental illness or are dealing with a lot of stress as I was;

I first started searching for answers to my growing health concerns in 2018. I had just moved from Germany to Scotland to start my life over - I was finally leaving my abusive spouse with the help of my amazing parents - I had my first “grown up” job with Hilton Corporate and was going to work and get my Masters Degree (I have a BA in Anthropology and was hoping to get my MSc in Animal Welfare Science, Ethics & Law at the University of Glasgow or at the University of Edinburgh). I was so excited to start over! So excited that I may have pushed the trauma and emotional scarring of my abusive marriage down for the first few months I was there and everything was peachy. Of course, those moments of bliss could not last forever. Still, I was settled in a new country (which BTW I had never even been to Glasgow prior to moving there) and I felt relatively safe for the first time in over a year - here my spouse could not find me or hurt me. I began seeing a therapist to help me unpack the trauma of my past. Of course, I was worried what people would think - as I’m sure you can imagine my spouse’s version of why we were getting a divorce was very different from mine so I tried to keep everything as quiet as possible. I didn’t want to deal with any backlash because, in his eyes, as always, everything was my fault. It wasn’t the fact that he had wanted to kill me at one point - nooo that certainly wasn’t why I was leaving (sarcasm) - In his eyes it was because I wanted an older man or because I just wasn’t willing to try to fix things...(even though I was the one who had suggested marriage counseling in the first place). It wasn’t the fact that he’d isolated me or cut me off from our finances. No, nothing was ever his fault... Even now, when I no longer have contact with him or his family I am afraid... This is the first time I have openly spoken about our marriage and divorce and as I have begun to tell my story I’m terrified that he’ll try to contact me or that I will receive backlash from him or his family (I am sure many of them would take his side and call me a liar...). I am speaking out now for two reasons - the first was because I only think it is fair and right to be completely honest about who I am and how I ended up where I am now if I’m going to be asking my family and friends for financial assistance and two because I want to help others who are or were victims of abuse. When I finally came out with my story a friend contacted me and told me she had been through the same type of situation with her spouse and it was a really lovely moment - we’d both been suffering in silence for fear of back lash but had now found each other. Anyway, back to the matter at hand... The first symptom I had was pain, chronic pain all over my body. My back, legs, arms, knees, ankles, feet, wrists, you name it - it hurt - and it kept getting worse and worse. I was having to take pain killers every day just to get to work and come home. I was extremely tired, no matter how many hours of sleep I got (6, 8, 10...) I was always tired. Then I started having headaches that would last for hours, then for days, then for weeks. I started to feel like I had a cold (on good days) or the flu (on bad days). My throat was sore, my voice was hoarse, I was congested and then I started having night sweats or trouble controlling my temperature (freezing even though the heat was on and the electric fire place was going). When I spoke to my doctors about my concerns it was written off as stress, depression, or anxiety. Whenever someone in the office I worked in got sick (you know how it goes around in an office environment) I would get sick too... my co workers would feel unwell for a few days, I would feel unwell for weeks. I then got strep throat but the doctors said I’d be fine with a few days rest. A few days went by and it turned into bacterial tonsillitis. I had to have multiple rounds of antibiotics. Then I had a stomach infection that lasted for over a month, a cough that lasted for months (November 2018 - March 2019). At one point I was coughing so hard I thought I would pass out. I coughed till I puked. I coughed till I pulled a muscle. My blood work kept showing elevated levels of inflammation / signs of an infection but since doctors didn’t know why they told me it was probably just fibromyalgia (something which shouldnt’ be diagnosed until all other possible causes have been ruled out). The rheumatologist in Scotland said there was no cure but I could do yoga, meditate, and maybe take an anti depressant... I felt like I was dying - I didn’t understand how I could feel so sick and no one seemed to take me seriously or care. A year and a half later (June 2019) I decided to move back to Germany - Brexit was looming and I just wasn’t happy in Glasgow anymore. Everyday was a struggle, my bus commute to and from work often took an hour and would leave me in so much pain I could barely get up off the couch at the end of the day. Plus work was not happy with all of the sick days I’d had to take. Keeping in mind that I felt sick everyday and I only took sick days when I had a high fever or wasn’t able to talk or walk. My parents lived in Germany at the time so I found a job where I could work at home in Germany and moved back in hopes of finding answers. A few months after moving back to Germany my parents sadly had to go to the US so I was once again alone in a new area. In November 2019 my cough returned and I was sick again with an unexplained “upper respiratory infection”. Once again I was put on multiple rounds of antibiotics which didn’t help - To make things worse I am allergic to almost all cough syrup and since I was working in a call center I was off work sick. The cough lasted till mid January this time and I lost my job. Work “understood” that I was going through a tough time and “felt horrible” for letting me go - they said I could reapply when I was “healthy”... and to top things off, my emotional support animal of 8 years, my baby girl Biene (a 11 year old Australian Cattle dog), my rock and constant companion, was then diagnosed with cancer and passed in December of 2019. I have to admit that these have been some of the hardest moments of my life... I have felt like such a failure and disappointment. I was an adult, I was supposed to be married and adopting kids (I’ve never wanted biological children due to my health issues), I was supposed to be getting my masters degree and leading a successful career, I wanted to travel and I wanted to be a source of positivity and happiness in the world... but instead I was broke, alone, grieving, depressed, anxious, and continuously sick... I have had to rely on my parents financially and have felt like a burden...I wanted to give up...but I kept fighting. Life gives us new reasons to keep living. I had a few great moments, I was blessed with a few opportunities for travel and have enjoyed those moments. I have great friends and family who continued to support me and who told me I was not a burden on their lives, so I kept fighting. I felt like my new German doctor wasn’t taking me seriously and once again was chalking everything up to stress and then later to grief (over losing my dog). So I found a new doctor a little further away and she listened to me - for the first time in a long time I felt like I had seen a doctor who actually cared. She helped me get in with a rheumatologist and she advocated for me. She agreed that my blood work constantly showing elevated levels of inflammation / infection - for over a 2 year period - along with me constantly feeling unwell wasn’t something to just be ignored but was an important symptom. While she had no idea what was wrong with me she was determined to help me find answers. In May I finally went and saw the rheumatologist - at first I thought all hope was lost, in our very first meeting she said to me “ I don’t think there is anything wrong with you”. She had barely looked at my paperwork and had barely listened to my symptoms. They sounded too generic for her...she didn’t think ti could be anything “rheumatic”... I was so young... It was probably stress... I’d heard it all before; but still she did her job, she ran the tests and a month later I was suddenly called back in for another appointment. My blood work showed what I had known all along - that I was sick - that I needed help and she admitted that she’d been wrong. It’s only been 12 days since I was finally diagnosed but its been a roller coaster of emotions for me - relief and validation - fear and anger and sadness... my life has so not gone to plan. I have struggled with depression and anxiety since I was 12 and the added stresses of the instances above, and the near constant pain (both emotional and physical) have not helped, but I refuse to give up. I’ll be completely honest with you, some days I don’t even know why - some days I only fight because I love my dog and cat and friends and family and cannot leave them. Other days I fight because I have dreams not yet realized. So, yeah, I started this blog because I hope to raise enough money to get a service dog (and this is still a major goal of mine) but I hope it will become something more. My friends and family have been so generous during this difficult time for all of us and have donated what they can. So far we have around 700.00 raised of the 10,000.00 euro goal. Reaching the 10,000 euro goal seems nearly impossible ... at least it seems impossible without help...but I have faith. If you have taken the time to read all of this I want to say THANK YOU. I know your time is precious (as is everyones and I appreciate it). I was wondering if you could share my story? Help me raise awareness about ANCA Vasculitis and other Chronic Illness? Help me raise awareness about domestic / emotional abuse and how it may seem impossible to overcome, but it is not and help me raise awareness about Gender (and other) bias in Medicine? I have a few posts here on my blog that talk about bias in medicine and I could provide you with a 100 different stories from men and women who are constantly battling against this bias to try and get help... and maybe , just maybe you could help me save up enough money to get a service dog? Within my blog everyone can find information on how a service dog could help me, how to donate, and more information about ANCA Vasculitis / Gender Bias in Medicine & I will soon be posting information for victims domestic abuse. Thank you so much for your time. I know that was a lot. Lots of love from Germany, Pia

P.S. I promise to pay it forward someday when I am in a better place. In case you’d like to know what some of my dreams and goals for my life are: To adopt / foster / rescue / help animals in need. To adopt or foster children one day (If I can). To help further civil rights movements like BLM and to help LGBTQ+ youth. To help further clean living and reduce waste. To be a light for others who are suffering. To perhaps one day own a bed & breakfast or cat cafe.

#ellen #ellendegeneres #pleaseread #getthistoellen #chronic fatigue #chronicillness #chronicpain #thisisme #mystory #domesticabuse #survivor #fundraiser #ellenshow #this is my life

0 notes