#can you just embrace being comics
Some (slightly angsty) vamp fam being wholesome and loving each other bc we need it
Now keep in mind I’m in no way a writer but i wanted to write a teeny lil fic based around this sketch (the alternative was a short comic which i do not have the time for lol) so enjoy the angst and fluff under the cut
The frigid wind was howling outside, crashing against the towers of the Dimitrescu castle. Yet they stood tall and proud as they have for centuries now, the thick stone walls protecting its inhabitants from the winter cold.
On the inside, the halls were filled with echoes of heels running across the polished floors, accompanied by the giggles and laughter of the three daughters of the house. Cassandra was in the lead, a comically large hat held in her gloved hands, followed by Bela and, lagging behind, their youngest sister Daniela. She deliberately stayed behind to -jokingly of course- mock their pursuer’s efforts to catch up. Each time she turned to yell a “we cannot be captured” or “give up and we may spare your hat” a small sigh escaped their mother’s lips.
“Come now, daughters. You know as well as I do that I must get ready for tonight’s meeting.”
Alcina made no efforts to quicken her pace though, she knew that her mischievous daughters would not run too far ahead. After all, where is the fun in having so much distance between you and your pursuer that you can’t even see and make fun of them. At least that’s what Daniela always said.
Despite her air of tiredness, Alcina couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips at the sound of her beloved daughters’ giggles. They may be up to no good occasionally, but they knew better than to cause their mother embarrassment, especially when it came to Mother Miranda. The meeting was still distant. For now she could afford to spend some time with them.
The trio rounded a corner, the first two quickly slipping out of sight while Daniela lingered there and turned towards her mother.
“Fine, we’ll give you the hat back,” she shouted and, for a second Alcina looked at her daughter hopefully, until she held her chin between two fingers in an exaggerated pensive expression. “If we can get a pet lycan!"
Alcina grimaced at the mere thought of one of Heisenberg’s beasts coming even close to her castle. Her clean castle.
"Good luck then!"
Daniela spun on her heels to follow her sisters, but lost her balance for a moment, slamming an elbow against the window placed right behind her for support. She had a tendency to get a little clumsy when excited, though it never became a problem bigger than a couple insignificant vases getting broken or an accidental -according to her- shove against her sisters. That is, until today.
The latch on the old window rattled from the combined force of Daniela’s hit and the wind outside that has been pushing against it all day long. This was the final hit that it needed to give out. The window opened forcefully, letting in a cold burst of winter air from outside that howled through the hallway. Daniela got knocked to the ground, more due to the pain caused by the chilly air than from its force, and instinctively tried to crawl away from the window while shielding herself from the cold as best as she could. The pain, however, became quickly unbearable and an agonized scream that bordered on a guttural grow pierced the howling of the wind.
"Mom!” Daniela called out desperately, now balling up in the fetal position.
Her mother however was not far, having witnessed the whole ordeal and now rushing towards her with heavy steps from the other side of the hall. Even the other two, hearing Daniela’s scream, dropped their game and came back for their sister.
Bela had to quickly grab Cassandra’s shoulder to stop her at a safe distance. As much as it pained her to see her younger sister writhing in pain on the floor, she knew that all three of them being in that state would get impossible for their mother to handle. And Alcina indeed handled it. She was at her youngest’s side in mere seconds, forcefully shutting the damned window with just enough self control so as to not shatter it, and then knelt down to Daniela’s shivering form. She gently scooped her up in her arms, holding her close to her body and almost wincing at how badly she was shaking.
Alcina spared only a glance towards the elder daughters "Go around. Meet me in my chambers,” came her booming voice and, although she wasn’t mad at them, they couldn’t help the shiver that ran down their spines.
“Yes mother,” they replied in unison and the next second a swarm of insects had replaced their bodies.
The journey to Alcina’s chambers was little more than a quick blur of hallways and heavy booming footsteps. She shoved the door open, crouching to enter and made a beeline for the pile of blankets neatly placed on the bed. Daniela was lowered down on one of the thicker covers so that her mother could wrap her up in a better attempt at warming her up. She then was promptly picked back up, now cocooned in the soft blanket, and Alcina went to sit on the couch placed right in front of the fireplace while tightly holding her daughter in her arms.
Contrary to popular belief, Alcina’s body was quite warm to the touch, unlike her daughters’ cold skin. On chilly winter nights it was common occurrence for the girls to come to her, demanding cuddles with the excuse that their rooms felt too cold. She always complied, gladly allowing all three of them to huddle around her like kittens for a bit of extra warmth.
Which is exactly what Daniela was doing right now, her small body almost glued to her mother’s chest and her head shoved in the crook of Alcina’s neck. One hand was covering her face, muffling the sound of sobs, while the other was damn near clawing at her shoulder trying to hold the blanket tightly around herself. It pained Alcina deeply to see her in such a sorry state. Her hands were tightly holding her daughter and she bent down to kiss the top of her head, whispering gentle words of encouragement.
A slight buzzing sound reached her ears as Bela and Cassandra entered the room, their expressions riddled with worry. Bela wordlessly approached the fireplace, it’s flames dying down from not being fed in a while, and added a couple logs that quickly ignited, casting a warm light on the room and its current inhabitants. Cassandra on the other hand was standing a couple feet away from her mother, not knowing what to do. The hat was still in her hands, her grip tightening further with each muffled sob that could be heard from Daniela. It took a few moments for Alcina to notice her, but when she did, she called her to sit by their side with a slight motion of her head. Cassandra was happy to oblige, quickly sitting down by her mother and helping her with keeping Daniela wrapped in the soft blanket. Bela joined them too after taking care of the fire. She knelt in front of Daniela and started to slowly rub her shoulder hoping to bring some comfort while her other hand went to Cassandra’s.
They sat like that until sobs turned into soft sniffles and until those died down too. Daniela stopped shivering and was instead just enjoying the warmth of her mother’s embrace, recovering from the whole ordeal. Until she let out a sigh, still not budging however.
“Well that sucked major ass."
Cassandra couldn’t stop the small chuckle that escaped her lips at the sight of Alcina fighting the urge to reprimand her youngest for her choice of words. When she looked at Bela, she saw the same struggle to keep a straight face. The very air in the room seemed lighter, no longer carrying the very real possibility of one of them dying.
"No more heels for you. From now on you can only wear flats,” Bela said teasingly, finally allowing her shoulders to relax.
“You’re only mad I’m taller than you,” came Daniela’s reply, who had turned around in her mother’s arms to give her sister a light shove.
Bela gasped, indignated, and went for a rebuttal, but was promptly interrupted by Cassandra’s sudden burst of laughter. She buried her face in her hands, muffling the sound, and leaned against her mother.
Alcina finally managed to let out a sigh of relief, her grip on Daniela loosening, and she leaned back against the soft cushions of the sofa. She closed her eyes, just reveling in the sound of her daughters giggling and throwing light teases at each other as if the last half an hour or so did not happen. These girls were really able to bounce back from anything.
But that was still a close call. She was already making plans to have someone come to the castle and repair any old window with a faulty lock so that such an accident would not repeat itself. It wasn’t unusual for things in a castle to get old and less effective as they once were, but Alcina couldn’t help blaming herself for not properly upkeeping her home. Her and her daughters’ home.
A shift from the three girls pulled her back from her thoughts. Bela got up to sit by her side, now all of them huddled around her and giggling at whatever joke Daniela just made.
She could have a maid call the repairman later. Right now she just wanted to enjoy the quality time with her daughters, in the safety of her warm room. Not that the girls seemed to have any plans of letting her get up anyways.
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The words we keep
Soulmate au - first words tattoed on the wrist
Includes: Venti | Diluc | Kaeya | Albedo | Zhongli | Xiao | Childe
Mentions of suicide in Zhongli; angst and brief violence for Childe
Oh you're here- I mean! I'm sorry I didn't mean to take your spot!
The bard had guessed that he'd meet his soulmate either in Angel's Share, in Windrise, or at the hands of his statue in Mondstadt. But the latter two were more unlikely. But he doesn't mind sharing his space with you really. In fact, Venti would be more than willing to let you in his space. But lo and behold! He didn't think he'd meet you at the hands of his statue!
Nights prior, you always heard a voice singing songs of various emotions. The voice eventually led you to Barbatos's statue. When you looked up, you saw the bard in green. His voice was very calming and pleasant to hear, so you always visited the statue at night. Until recently, your curiosity grew. Why does the bard always stay there at night?
Seeing your relaxed form on his statue, hair swaying in the wind. Venti just went soft. "Quite the lovely view isn't it?"
He didn't mean to surprise but you still did become surprised. He found it endearing. "Oh you're here- I mean! I'm sorry I didn't mean to take your spot!"
Ah- you scared them. Please don't do that.
Now who did he scare and what did he do to warrant his soulmate's first words to him? Diluc has always been aware that he can be intimidating and usually he doesn't mind that. But for you- he does give half a mind.
There was a new winemaker that Connor had hired and Diluc has yet to meet them. Connor had even commented that their methods were a bit unusual. But if it's enough to get the former's approval, then Diluc will see to this newcomer.
Diluc met you during the night, just at the edges of the Stone Gate that signifies the border between Mondtsadt and Liyue. The man was simply patrolling around the area for any hidden dangers. That's when he saw you, kneeling on the ground with a group of slimes surrounding you. Seeing your plight, Diliuc quickly ran and summoned his greatsword. With a few swipes imbued with pyro, the slimes hastily retreated. He was about to chase them off, but he was more concerned of your safety.
Diluc was about to speak when you cut him off as you stood up, dusting your clothes. "Ah- you scared them. Please don't do that."
Diluc was dumbstruck for a second. He did not expect to meet his soulmate right here right now. Seeing his stupefied look, you raised a brow. "Are… you alright, Sir Diluc?"
"Those slimes were about to attack you." Diluc pointed out. His reply made you chuckle a bit and shake your head to the sides. Did he say anything funny?
"No they were not. I was trying to befriend them so that I could use their slime concentrations for the winery."
Now Diluc was even more confused. Slime? For tbe winery? "Wait- you're the new-"
"Winemaker. And your soulmate if you're not yet aware. Come on, let's go look for those slimes! We can talk on the way about our… professional and not-so professional side of our relationship." And with that, you trailed to the path of the slimes with a smile on your face. As for the wine tycoon, he was still confused- like a lost puppy, but there was this gentle smile that landed on his lips as he followed you.
Yes, I am suffering and in need of a Pyro Vision. Soulmate or not, if you don't have a Pyro Vision- shoo.
The text tattooed on Kaeya's wrist always left him laughing. He just knows, that this was meant to be a comical moment. He can even imagine the moment he meets his soulmate just from these words alone. But of course, he does worry about your well-being. Kaeya had his guesses. Maybe he would meet you in Dragonspine or maybe- you were an unprepared tourist enduring the permafrost of Snezhnaya and he'd meet you there. Well- in the end, he's still amused at your winterish pain.
Sure enough, Kaeya was tasked to scout Dragonspine for any Fatui activity. He could feel it under his skin that he'll meet you any second now. As he traversed through the mountain path, he noticed a group of warming seelies hovering over… someone? And that someone is shivering immensely. The captain grinned.
You heard footsteps approaching but you stayed in your crouched position, determined to preserve your body temperature. The seelies were helping, sure, but they were not enough to counter the coldness your Cryo Vision emanates. Damn it. Just because you're a cryo user doesn't mean you're immune to sheer cold.
The footsteps stopped and you snorted at the words the stranger spoke, "Could this possibly be my soulmate suffering in the cold and in need of a Pyro Vision?"
You huffed, you didn't want to meet your soulmate in this kind of situation. But it happened anyway, much to your dismay. Still crouched, you managed to turn to face the man as seelies continued hovering around.
"Yes, I am suffering and in need of a Pyro Vision. Soulmate or not, if you don't have a Pyro Vision- shoo."
Now actually hearing it from you made Kaeya laugh hard. If he was already amused just from the ink on his wrist before, Kaeya's now even more so deeply amused. You muttered sadist on his way. Deciding he's had enough a good laugh for today, the captain gave you his fur coat and a warming bottle. "Come on, let's get you some place warm, yes?"
You're not the only one! I actually did one for you, too!
When his mind is not occupied by hus studies, it would often drift ink embedded on his wrist. Everytime Albedo does so, he would often wonder what did the two of make for each other that would lead to you eventual meeting.
The Windblume Festival arrived, and of course, so will tourists from other lands. Usually, Albedo would simply pay no heed to the ongoing festivities and their participants. But this time- things were different. You unknowingly caught the alchemist's eye. There was this sudden itch in his hands- and Albedo knew he had to sketch you form. However, before he could even approach you- you left to another direction.
He caught sight of you again the next day. You were reading a book on a bench, with the plaza fountain giving you a beautiful background for Albedo. Discreetly, the alchemist sat on a bench front of yours and began sketching. Unbeknownst by him, you were also entranced by his form and you, too, began sketching.
Albedo was first to finish- and like usual, he would give the sketch to the person he drew of even if they were strangers. As he walked, there was this certain nervousness that found way in his stomach. This never happened before. Why was he nervous?
Once close enough, Albedo cleared his throat and handed you his sketch, "I know this seems suspicious, but I want you to have this. You have a wonderful form."
You'd be lying if you said your heart did not stop a beat at his words. When you saw the paper he was offering you, you gasped at how he caught every detail of you. Bashful, you tore the page you were drawing on from sketchbook and gave it to him.
"You're not the only one! I actually did one for you, too!"
When your words reached his ears, Archons bless you as he gave you a genuine and joyful smile.
Please... don't touch my heart that wants to disappear.
When Zhongli fully embraced his mortal form, he didn't expect the universe to gift him a soulmate. Like a snake, ink slithered into words that gave his heart a certain sadness. Zhongli knew, you were suffering somewhere... Out there...
He saw you first at the highest peak of Guyun Stone Forest. Everything happened so quickly. One second he was watching your distant form from the beaches below then the next he knew- his heart dropped, the same way you willingly fell to the hands of death that waited in the sea. The archon did what he knew is right- and that is saving you.
To Zhongli, immoratlity can both be a blessing and a curse. When your skins touched, he knew you were of immortality. He could sense it. And he could also sense the tiredness that nest in your soul from the burden of immortality.
Once Zhongli landed on safe ground, that's when he spoke. "I won't ask why, however is this truly what you want?"
The way his words reflected the ink written on your wrist made you open your eyes wide. When the realization sank in- that this man is your soulmate, you began crying. You were tired of life- but this man- this man is now your lock away from your want for death. If you stayed with him- another cycle of seeing the people you love come and go.
"Please..." you begged, "don't touch my heart that wants to disappear..."
Your voice was sad and pleading- but Zhongli was a stubborn man, just like his element. He wanted to help you but not by giving your death. He wanted you to see life in a new light, hopefully with him by your side.
Excuse me... Here- for you. Qingxin.
Xiao was always resolute in his resolve that he has no need of a soulmate deemed by the universe. However, there are times that he would let his mind flutter around the concept. Specifically, around the words elegantly written on his wrist and his soulmate. Xiao would question why would you give him qingxin flowers in the first place. Other than that, there was also this underlying worry in his thoughts about you and the qingxin flowers. These flowers... they can only be gathered on high stone peaks. What if you slipped and fall?
This leads Xiao to have days where he just spends his time at the peaks of Jueyun Karst, looking out for any foolish person scale mountains just for qingxin. It's not because he's worried about you no- Xiao just doesn't want anyone die under his protection over Liyue. There has already been too much deat-
At the voice, Xiao's head whipped to your direction with eyes wide in surprise.
"Here- for you. Qingxin."
There was this bored look in your face, but Xiao could see the worry in your eyes. Worry? Were you worried about him? Xiao frowned at the thought but still took the flowers from your outstretched hand.
"Foolish mortal... you could have gotten yourself hurt. Climbing peaks just for qingxin..."
... But still a small smile graced his lips and your heart melted.
You're the only person I recognize whose eyes resemble the deep blue ocean.
The words tattooed on his wrist always left Childe questioning about his soulmate and what led them saying these words. Somehow- imagining the possible scenarios always makes him melt. This string of words- it never fails him to bring a sense of comfort in his heart. Childe learns of yoir existance during a mission.
The mission was to assasinate a captain of the Knights- you. He observed you for days and took note how you're silent and alone for the most part but kind to the people who approach you- he almost feels bad for having to kill you. The day came when he had to kill you. It was supposed to be a quick kill- but he should know better. You were a captain for a reason, so you fought back. However, in the end, Childe was stronger as he wrap his hands around your fragile neck. Another second, he'd have you dead- until a child's voice cut through- your little brother. The way your eyes watered up at the sight of your only family. Seeing the hurt in your eyes, Childe's thoughts went overdrive- No- nonononono way I'm killing in front of a kid- He simply can't- he was reminded of his little brother, too. With a wavering will to disobey orders, Childe let you go and retreated to the night,
"Don't think this is the last time you'll see me."
Like a shattering glass- the words he uttered made your heart shatter like glass...
Childe saw you again, this time in Liyue. When your gazes meet- there was a shock that passed through with tension suddenly gripping your necks. Childe swore he hid much of his identity physically that night- but he knew you recognized him. He managed to corner you in Yuehai Pavillion by swooping into an empty seat right in front of you. There was a tense moment and an oppresive air. He noticed how your hands were ready to grab your weapon. "How did you recognize me?"
You carefully thought of your words. And when you did reply, Childe have never felt so much despair until today. "You're the only person I recognize whose eyes resemble the deep blue ocean."
Back before he knew you- these words always comforted Childe- but now? Childe felt chills in his spine as despair clouded his mind. Why would the universe decide to have person he was supposed to kill his soulmate.
Similarly, his heart also shattered.
A/N: Look!!! I got meself some banners ksks---- this is all Childe's fault rawr
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THE LANGUAGE OF TOUCH
characters: hinata shouyou, kuroo tetsurou, miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi, suna rintarou
a/n: mmmm just a lil smth before chem makes me rip my hair out <3
HINATA fiddles with your fingers. anyone that knows him knows that he gets fidgety and restless often. it was when he was younger that he had so much trouble staying still that his legs were constantly bouncing, his fingers were always tapping a random rhythm on any surface, and he regularly popped his joints. now that he’s older, he’s been able to settle in the comfort of the world, but sometimes when he feels that impulse to just move, he grabs your hand and places it in his lap. he traces the length of your fingers, draws simple shapes and writes words on the back of your hand, and places his palm against yours before interlocking them to squeeze your hand as a thank you for taking care of him.
KUROO is always the little spoon. it’s a bit comical to see a large, 6’5” man being held in the arms of someone smaller than him, but for him, it’s everything. he always gives so much of himself to others that at the end of the day, he’s so tired and drained, and he finds himself dragging his feet all the way to your shared bedroom. he comes home from work at a later time than you, so he knows you’ll always be in there waiting for him with open arms. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, tangling your legs, and for the first time that day, he breathes. you are his lifeline, the sole reason why he doesn’t float away and into an existential crisis everyday, but he wouldn’t have it any other way if it meant your warm arms would stay around him.
OSAMU kisses your forehead. he’ll take every chance he can get to have his lips on your skin and then create more opportunities because he simply can never get enough of you. he feels his heart overflow with adoration whenever you smile up at him and gently return it as if he were a fragile thing. it’s a sweet, simple action that never fails to make either of your hearts beat faster and he makes sure that though it is a common action, it is special each and every time. to love and to be loved is a feeling he refuses to let go of; once he’s had a taste of something good, it will stay in his grasp for as long as he wants (forever).
SAKUSA hugs you for a second longer. he’s known for maintaining physical distance from others because he values his personal space, but he cherishes your fond, tender touch more. sometimes, he thinks you’ll disappear right in front of his eyes because you’re just too good to be true. he doesn’t ever want to let go of you because you are his safe home from all the terrors of the world. with just a touch of you, he can feel all of his fears and worries melt away and he thinks he would be more than happy to live his whole life in your loving embrace.
SUNA bumps your noses. there’s something so intimate about it that makes his heart flutter like the wings of the butterflies in his stomach. it’s always done late at night when it is purely the two of you in your own world, unperturbed by the distractions of the world. there’s a small, lovesick grin on his face as he gazes into your eyes, cupping your face to bring it closer to his. his eyes are crinkled because he’s just so glad you’re with him and you think he’s the most beautiful soul you’ve had the privilege of encountering. it’s always a light, gentle nudge that says “i love you infinitely,” and you soon fall asleep, hoping to meet in your dreams.
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I Call It Being Married | Cevans x wife!reader (Actress!reader)
Summary: Just another day of being secretly married to Chris, upset that you told your fans you weren't dating, you called it being married.
Warning(s): Non, just fluff. **you're a cast member in this one.**
A/N: Idkkk... requests are opening soon! I hit 500 followers bc wtffff. Thank you all for the love!
Any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated, Enjoy <33
At the panel for comic con, you were eagerly listening to all the questions and answers. It was another day of a press tour for the new marvel film that had been released, and you happened to be one of the cast members going on tour to promote the new avenger's film in New York. Sitting at the broad table amongst your other cast members, you enjoy waving at your fans and listening to everyone's conversations.
The next fan came up to the microphone; she smiled your way. "Uh… this is a question for y/n", she smiled again. You chuckled, scooting closer to your mic nodding in her direction. "Hey, there, lovely!" You replied.
Her face instantly brightened, "I just wanted to say thank you so much for your character! She is one of my favourites in the MCU. You are an outstanding actor! " she praised before continuing. "I wanted to know who would be the first person you'd call if you needed saving." You carefully listened, nodding in understanding. "First of all, thank you for your kind words. I am ecstatic to hear that I am your favourite character… and secondly…" you chuckled.
You raised a finger before taking your phone out, dialling a specific number. Awaiting the phone to answer, Chris finally picks up "Hello, hello!" You lightly laughed before continuing, "I am just calling you because I have a lovely fan here at the panel who wanted to know who I'd call if I needed saving" there was a quiet laugh coming through the phone.
Looking at the audience, they were curious about who this person was, "could you say hi for me please?" You asked again, hearing a slight laugh "of course, love". You put your phone on speaker, resting it against the microphone, "It's on speaker", you said.
"Hey Y/n's fans, hope you're all having a great day", he spoke, the slight smile paved on your face as the audience knew exactly who the person talking was. "Alright, thank you, that's enough... I think you're stealing my fans." you chuckled. "Alright, love, see you later", he spoke, hanging up. You smiled at his sweet goodbye before shoving your phone back into your pocket.
"And that right there was the lovely Chris Evans", you spoke before the crowd began to cheer.
Sooner, the next fan comes up, "this is a question for y/n…" they asked, "I think I am speaking for everyone here after hearing Chris on the phone… so we all wanted to know if you and Chris are dating". The panel began to chuckle along with you.
Oh, they knew that he was more than than a date. Leaning into the microphone carefully, you begin to whisper, "Can you guys keep a secret?" You winked, the audience nodded their heads In unison. You let out a big sigh "phew… so can I" you chuckle, causing your fans to have a mixed reaction of laugher and sadness.
"No, no… I'm only joking," you giggled, looking over to your best friend Scarlett, who is already giving you a wink. You turn back to the audience, "No, we aren't dating" you smiled at the fan who had asked you this question, "but do not fear! We are definitely partners in crime", you winked, making the fan smile again.
"Alright, thank you guys for coming along to this panel." The Mic host began talking, and everyone, including you, began to leave the panel.
Getting home from the tour, you take your shoes off before heading into the kitchen, smiling upon seeing your husband cook. Hugging Chris from behind, you loved how much taller he was than you. Turning around, he gave you a big smile, embracing you in a hug. "Hey, how was the panel?" She asked, giving your lips a peck. "Great, there was a lot of questions", you laughed.
"Played a bit with the audience; they asked if we were dating", separating yourself from the hug. You went to grab yourself a drink from the fridge before sitting down at the counter. "Ah! And what was your answer?" Chris turned your way, raising his eyebrows.
He plated both of you and his dinner, awaiting your answer. "I said no… hear me out first! Only because we aren't dating" you smiled. Again raising an eyebrow, he set your dinner in front of you before taking his seat right next to you.
"Oh right… so what do you call this?" He lifts his left hand, waving it around in the air and in your face, showing off his gold wedding band. Taking a bite into your food, you groaned a bit at our delicious it was. "This is good, hun-" he stopped you mid-sentence "love?", it was always the raise of his eyebrow that got you.
You loved to tease him, chuckling you kiss his lips slowly, parting just a bit you look into his eyes, "I call it being married, we don't date anymore" you cheekily spoke "We are married, and we do married couple things" you widely smile which Chris caught on. He laughs lightly, taking a bit of his own food, "I knew I married a smart one", you laughed at his comment.
"Of course I am", You kissed his cheek before beginning to eat again.
Chris smiled, his body faces towards you with one of his hands resting on the back of your chair. You both continued your conversation about how your days went.
Something… married couples do, I guess.
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All mistakes are my own, please do not repost, copy or translate my fics; all writing is my own. Thank you for all the support! Enjoy :))
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Raz is autistic.
Not just autistic-coded— although you can claim that his psychic powers could me a methaphor for autism if you want— but also just autistic. Why? Here is my essay:
He stims. The boy stims!!! A lot!!! If you stay motionless in either PS 1 or 2, the kid can’t stay still, and has idle animations of doing acrobatics and stretches in place as well as dancing, mimicking Bobby Zilch’s infamous taunting dance.
He has trouble connecting with his peers in both games, from the campers at whispering rock claiming he’s a lake monster, to the interns hazing him and using him to fulfill their tasks to get out of work. Even his own siblings like to mess with him, or are just straight up cruel to him (we’ll get back to them later).
Outside of Lili, Dogen, and maybe Sam, Raz doesn’t make friends with kids his own age easily —or at least fails to catch social cues on people thinking he is too focused on being a psychic— and often gravitates to connecting with his teachers, mentors, and painters in insane asylums (I always got the feeling he got along better with Edgar Teegle, especially considering he references the painter in Rhombus of Ruin). He even had trouble connecting with Lili at first. Side note: She’s also neurodivergent, but was less engaging at first because she was under-stimulated. Until Raz connected with her about their shared nightmare, when she revealed she read the same comics he did, she mocked him almost as cruelly as Bobby.
When he goes into Helmut’s mind, he knows what Sensory Overload and Panic Attacks is. Raz is fairly young, so it’s surprising that he knows about these terms as well as what they means in the context of the situation. Therefore, its likely that he’s experienced both of these before. Probably during a performance when he was younger, since he now seems to be very comfortable performing in front of people despite being so young. Bear in mind, I’m using his younger siblings as reference for how young the Aquatos are when they start performing. Raz most likely learned to somersault before he learned to crawl. So odds were there have been a fair share of baby Aquatos having temper tantrums on stage.
My bet is that Augustus used to use his mental link with Raz to help him calm down, through telekinesis and telepathy. This in turn helped awaken Raz’s psychic abilities, allowing him to read minds. Raz seems to be the only one who can do it in the first game, since he reads Lili’s mind multiple times. Hence, this is why Raz is hyper focused on learning to broaden his psychic horizons. It brings him comfort to learn to control them.
Furthermore, being psychic can be an extended metaphor of him being autistic because of how his family treats him. Some of his family members accept him as a psychic, like his father, and even recognize it as a part of family history —which is an important look at how mental disorders are commonly genetic but have been mistreated in earlier generations due to misunderstanding of mental conditions— allowing Augustus to embrace his own powers. Meanwhile, others think of it as “just a phase” and choose to ignore it, like his mother, or outright use him being psychic as blame for all the family’s problems, like Dion or Frazie.
Everything tying into a Family Curse is often how mental disorders like Autism, ADD, ADHD, BPD, Bipolar Disorder, etc, are all written off in many families, and as a result they’re misunderstood, which only end up hurting future generations when they’re ignored or not addressed in a healthy way.
Which is why the ending to the game very important to me OK?????
In conclusion, Raz is autistic because of this evidence I’ve presented but also because I like Raz as a character and I project onto characters I like. Hope you liked my TED Talk.
The End 🧠
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Hewwooo! This ask just came into my mind and I wanted to share. So Yuuji has a girlfriend that is a civilian and at first Sukuna is annoyed by her but as time passed he starts to take a like on her since she's always so nice to him despite him being a curse. And he's just so confused about his feelings because him being the king of curses falling for a weakling? Ridiculous. I want to read your interpretation of this idc if its hcs or scenario. Do whatever you like❤
hi my love!! i really hope you like this!! i made it into headcanons so i can go over a larger span of time more smoothly, so i hope that’s okay!
i’m getting so many sukuna requests hell yes 🏃🏻♀️🏃🏻♀️🏃🏻♀️
okay so let’s make it that you’re yuuji’s gf from before he ate sukuna’s finger ( yeah btw wtf is up with your bf ??? )
he called you as soon as they’d announced the death of his grandpa, because it had felt like you were the last family he had left. seriously you’re his whole world
you’re there when megumi starts explaining stuff about how this finger’s super dangerous and people will die you and yuuji are like 😃✋🏼 wha
but also so unbothered bc he can’t be serious
turns out he is serious laugh out loud
yuuji makes you go home as you’re at the school gate and you’re like mf what??? no???? i’m not leaving you??
he ends up making you wait and then he just never comes back
megumi explains everything to you
but again you’re like 😃✋🏼 pause wtf
you keep texting him and calling him and he’s not responding you’d be angry at him if you weren’t so fucking worried
and so eventually he finds you again
after eating sukuna’s second finger (again, what the fuck sir)
now megumi had told you he was now like ? possessed ? by a curse? it sounded like gibberish to you tbh and it was the last thing you were thinking about when you finally saw him again
all that mattered was that he was okay and alive and in your arms
you’ve never hugged him tighter tbh
so anyways ! yuuji does not want you to meet sukuna
but when he meets you one day really frustrated from a mission, you ask him about it, and he just vents out everything to you. he tells you how the responsibility can be so overwhelming sometimes, and how sukuna can be so infuriating and you can’t imagine what it must be like having this guy in your head
and then you just go
“can i meet him?”
at first he’s like absolutely not ma’am are u insane
but then you convince him, telling him you trust him and reminding him he has control
so he shifts
you really were expecting something horrendous like seriously you were anticipating fainting from fear
he’s just your bf
with a rougher edge
you like instantly relax
even if this guy’s expressions are nothing like yuuji’s, you remind yourself that it’s still yuuji inside, no matter what
“i like your — tats?”
what do you even say to a curse???
he’s scowling at you so much you might piss yourself but you just repeat constantly that he can’t hurt you
“you disgust me,” he spits out
yuuji shifts back so quick, and just groups you on his arms
“that wasn’t me, i swear,” he says to you and you have to calm him down and tell him it’s okay !! it’s not his fault the guy’s an ass
now! yuuji’s pretty comfortable with your level of physical affection
in fact, he loves it so much. it’s one of his favorite things about you.
so he’s always welcoming an embrace from his favorite person in the world, but it’s so hard to ignore sukuna’s words in his mind repeatedly saying how this is so revolting
he tries his best to pay him no attention
sometimes y’all will be cuddling and a mouth appear somewhere on yuuji’s body and it’ll say “get ur hands off my vessel human!” and ngl
it always makes you laugh
like how comical is that
eventually, over time, the hugs are
kinda nice, sukuna realizes
like he’s a thousand year old cursed spirit
he’s not really gotten any affection yk
and it’s not that he ever wanted it
but being with you
or well, him possessing yuuji and yuuji being with you and you being with him through transitive property (thank you grade 7 math)
it really like softens him
a little bit
like the tiniest bit
some part of him, he probably thinks it’s yuuji and not even him and that he’s just confused but really some part of him grows to anticipate the hugs
and when you kiss yuuji
your mouth feels so good he wants to feel it for himself
it’s like angering him how you’re growing onto him, so he asks yuuji to shift them
and they do shift
you’re a little surprised bc yuuji gave u like a 3 sec warning before those familiar markings appeared on his skin
“i never thought i’d see you again,” you admit.
and he just kisses you
like full on the mouth
you pull him back in shock, and rest a hand on his shoulder to keep a distance between you two
“i don’t know where this is coming from but it doesn’t feel right, sukuna.”
and you’re just
you’re just so nice
why are you so nice???
“i love yuuji, so much, and even though you’re sharing a body you’re still a whole other person. it feels wrong.”
god why are you so good? it’s infuriating????
yuuji shifts back, starts apologizing again like the first time
“you have to stop apologizing for something someone else did, babe.”
when he’s alone with sukuna that night he’s like dude, dude, bro, my man — we gotta talk boundaries bc wtf
sukuna just goes “not fair u get to kiss her”
like yeah??? she’s my girlfriend tf ????
so sukuna resorts to watching (or feeling) from the sidelines again
as he grows more and more affectionate towards you
until he’s just as protective over you as yuuji is
until he realizes that
what yhe fuck
maybe he has feelings for you because, one of the main things about you is that the two times you’ve encountered him, you’ve never treated him like a curse. even if being treated human was once considered belittling to him, having you dote on him like that, speak to him as softly
it made his brain go brrrr
so he asks yuuji one day, “can i kiss your gf”
like that’s something you just casually ask
took a lotta convincing but eventually yuuji says “if she says yes then okay”
it takes like
90 minutes for both you and yuuji to decide that you’re okay with it. sukuna’s like fuck it ion wanna anymore lmfao
yuuji shifts into him
he doesn’t even wait the impatient mf
he just kisses you so suddenly, cupping your neck and tugging at your hair like damn how long has he been wanting to do this
clearly way longer than even he thought
after that yuuji doesn’t exactly share you, but yeah he’ll let sukuna kiss you every now and then
sukuna’s still not fully accepting of his feelings towards you, but he learns to appreciate you
especially your kindness towards him and yuuji, and the tenderness of your touch
he never would’ve seen it coming when he awoke in this teenage boy’s body, but he can admit that you’re definitely an added benefit
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RUN / jinx x f!reader
THE VANISHER SERIES, part 7
a celebration is in order for 300 followers! if you can count this as a celebration. i don't know if i would.
prompt: you make exchanges of information that lead to brutal conversations. you come back home to find no one waiting for you.
warnings: talks of abuse, cursing
You wake up with Jinx in your arms. You can’t be sure of what time it is, but you know in your heart that you need to get moving. However, you allow yourself some more time with her before you have to break apart for the day. The last thing you want to do is leave her, but you know that you’ll need to get a head start on gathering information if you want to get in the Firelight’s good graces after yesterday.
You look down at Jinx’s face, idly tracing a finger over the line of her eyebrows, down her jaw. She’s not the type who gets to sleep much, judging by the eyebags that have always seemed more permanent than not under her eyes.
It’s quiet. Your hideout and your mind. No metronome clicks in the back of your mind, no mirages of Yelora or the hazy bodies of your parents.
“Darling,” you say softly, not too loudly to jerk her awake. She can get jumpy in her sleep without realizing it, a manner you find cute but also kind of sad. She can’t get any reprieve, not even when she’s trying to rest. You have a few people you could blame for that, but primarily one.
“Hnghrh?” The noise that comes out of Jinx’s mouth is nothing short of comical.
“I have to go,” you say. Instantly, Jinx frowns.
“Do you haaaave to?” Jinx groans, burrowing further into your body. “Few more minutes, toots.”
“A few more minutes,” Jinx repeats. Her hands slide over your back. You don’t have it in you to argue more, so you start counting the seconds in your head while wholeheartedly embracing the feeling of having your lover next to you.
Everything is falling to shit.
Zaun could crumble, and you would only care about Jinx. The world could fall apart, brick by brick, and you would only care about Jinx.
Maybe you’ve fallen in too fast. You’re hurtling at terminal velocity, but isn’t that what you’ve always been doing? Being the Vanisher gave you the guise you needed to pretend that everything was okay, but since day one, your life has been nothing but death and the ignorance of your own emotions.
Jinx changed that. Somehow, in her own strange way, she changed it. You don’t know how, you likely won’t ever understand why she bothered to give you the time of day, but you’re eternally grateful for it.
You kiss her temple and extract yourself from the bed. Jinx watches you from the mattress as you change into dark clothing; your standard outfit, plus the poncho over the top to keep you protected from the weather and the dampness of Zaun. You strap the blades to your forearms.
“There’s got to be a better way to wear those,” Jinx comments. When you glance over, you see her laying casually, arms folded behind her head. You resist every urge to throw away your duties for the day and crawl back into bed with her.
“This is how I’ve always worn them,” you reply, pulling the sleeve over the devices to conceal them. “They were Yelora’s before they were mine.”
You grab the other one to put it on, but instead, you leave it. While it’s nice to have two, you can get by just as fine with one. There have been times where you had neither because the mechanisms broke, and you had to get by with just your fists and your knowledge.
But this time, you’re leaving it for Jinx. You look at her and tap the one you left behind before making a gesture at it. She bolts upright and practically bounces off your bed to get to it. You finish getting your things together, pushing your hair back and out of the way so you can pull the hood up.
“This could be so much smaller,” Jinx says, playing with the hidden blade's trigger mechanism. It extends out, nearly slicing her cheek.
“Please don’t hurt yourself with that,” you say. You walk over to her and kiss her, holding her chin in your hand. The blade is all but forgotten in her mind and in yours. For that second in time, you’re consumed by her.
You pull away.
“I’ll find you later,” you say, your gloved fingers stroking her cheek.
“I’m going back to my hideout to sort out all of my shit, get some ideas,” Jinx says, her fingers fidgeting with the blade.
“Keep that with you. Whatever you do, don’t lose it.” Your voice is stone cold, but you soften at the look on her face. “Please. It’s important to me.”
“I won’t let anyone touch it, toots,” Jinx promises. You put your mask over your mouth, the seal pressing it tightly to your skin. You turn away and head to the door, but the voice of Jinx puts you frozen in your tracks. “Vanny?”
You look over your shoulder.
Jinx pulls the blade close to her chest as if she’s trying to hug it. “Be safe. Don’t get hurt. Come back to me when you’re done.”
I’ll always come back to you, your mind says, but you don’t vocalize it. Rather, you say, “I promise.”
Jinx seems to be content with that and gives you a small smile. You duck out of your hideout and begin moving through the Lanes.
Your walking takes you to the Firelights sanctuary. Of course, you know where it is— you were integral to finding the location of the base in the first place.
“I need to speak with Ekko,” you say to the Firelight standing guard at the door. She squints at you, and you produce a slip of paper containing information. The Firelight steps aside, and you gain entry. The massive tree at the center of the base brings a smile to your face though it remains hidden beneath your mask.
The Firelights know who you are. You’ve done jobs for them, just as you’ve done jobs for everyone else in the Undercity. However, you sense they’re warier of you now— no doubt the association of you and Jinx has clicked in their minds. You’re a threat.
Which is why when Ekko sees you when you arrive at the top of the tree, the first thing he does is put his weapon to your throat.
“You have a lot of nerve coming here, Vanisher,” he says, anger curdled in his words. You raise your hands into the air. “I know you’re with Jinx now. You’re not a neutral party anymore.”
“While that may be the case, Ekko, I’m more than capable of splitting my personal life from my work life,” you reply, sidestepping the weapon but keeping your hands visible at all times. “Silco is no longer one of my clients. I’ve cut my ties with him.”
Ekko arches his brow. The white paint on his face is cracked. “Why?”
“Because he’s an immature piece of shit,” you reply candidly.
The leader of the Firelights isn’t immune to laughing, and the brief smile that passes his face tells you that slowly, he’s coming to your side. But also, it’s the truth. Silco has always been a slimy snake you’ve dealt with for the sake of having money to spend.
“Ekko, you’ve always known I’m more fond of your ideals than anybody else in this place. For the sake of surviving in the Undercity, I had to stay neutral, but the time for change has made itself known,” you continue. “Silco is losing power. The Topside is revolting against the Undercity. Jinx is breaking free.”
At your last proclamation, Ekko lowers his weapon. A variety of emotions go through his eyes, but at the forefront, you see shock mixed with the smallest tendril of hope. He says, “And why are you telling me this?”
You pull the paper out from your poncho and hold it between your fingers. “The locations of three Shimmer stockpiles. They aren’t the biggest, but they’re important. You hit these, Silco will feel it.”
“Knowing you, the information won’t come freely,” Ekko replies, his eyes trained on the paper. You know he wants it. The Firelights have always targeted the shimmer stockpiles hidden around the city. They want the stuff gone.
“It won’t. I’ll give this to you, if—” you fold the paper in half, preparing to extend it to him. “You let me talk to Vi.”
“You won’t hurt her?”
“I won’t touch a hair on her head. I just need some words with her.”
Ekko considers you for a few long seconds. You spot his thumb thumping against the handle of his weapon, the way his eyes go darker with heavy thought. He glances at the Firelights and the tree, and exhales. “Deal.”
True to your word, you give him the paper. The stockpile locations are ones you chose knowing that there were snitches guarding them. Anyone can extort information out of someone for the proper price. The paper trail will lead elsewhere and dodge you entirely. But you wouldn’t be surprised if Silco blamed you first.
It wouldn’t even matter. You’re done with him.
Ekko scans the paper and the coordinates listed, then makes a follow-me motion with his hand. You stay quiet as he takes you past the tree and to the mock jail cells they use to no doubt interrogate people. Mainly shimmer dealers. You’ve never been on the receiving end of a Firelight jail cell, and you don’t intend to start now.
“They’re in here, Vi and Caitlyn,” Ekko says.
Ekko nods. With a hum, you think, Caitlyn Kiramman, finally stepping out of her bounds. You’re keenly aware of Silco and Marcus’s relationship— of course, you’d know the famous Kiramman daughter simply by association. Hell, you recall seeing her when you went to go do cleanup duty on the airship shimmer explosion a while ago.
He opens the door and inside, Vi is talking to Caitlyn, animatedly gesturing with her hands. However, she goes quiet at the sound of Ekko and you entering.
When she sees you, there’s anger in her eyes that slowly morphs into confusion. She points at you with a finger, the realization coming to. “You were with Powder.”
“I was,” you reply, pulling your hood back.
“Can you—” Vi looks beyond desperate as she walks to you. You stand about the same height as her, if not the tiniest bit smaller. Caitlyn, however, is far taller than you. You make a mental note of that. Vi stops in front of you. “Can you take me to her?”
“Vi, we already made plans at the bridge,” Caitlyn says, her hand on Vi’s arm.
“But she—” Vi stops. Her eyebrow raises, settling on your lithe frame. “Who are you, anyway?”
“People like to call me the Vanisher,” you say.
“She’s an informant of sorts,” Ekko says. “She’s been helping us for years. As well as helping other unsavory types like Silco.”
Caitlyn doesn’t look too pleased with you at all. The lilt of her voice just screams Piltover. “A double agent.”
“I owe my loyalties to no one,” you say to the Enforcer. Shortly thereafter, you turn to Vi, facing her completely. “Except for your sister.”
Vi crosses her arms over her chest. “You work for her too?”
Not exactly, you think. Your answer is, “Sure.”
“Then take me to her,” Vi pleads. You shake your head.
“I can’t.” You look at Ekko, then make a subtle head jerk at Caitlyn. You need to speak with Vi, and the only way you’ll say anything is if you’re alone with her. Thankfully, Ekko seems to get the message. He points at you as if to say don’t pull anything before escorting Caitlyn out of the room. When you’re confident they’re out of earshot, you look at Vi.
You see where some of the resemblances are, but not many. Compared to Jinx, Vi holds herself so differently. Her hands are always clenched into fists. There are scars dotting her face and a permanent scowl.
“You say you’re the Vanisher, but who are you really?” Vi says. “You’re not telling me something.”
“That’s the point,” you reply. “All you need to know, Vi, is that Jinx is very, very important to me. I know who you are, I know what you said to her.”
“Came all the way here to blame me, then?”
“You started the fire, Vi. You were the one who put that idea into Jinx’s mind, but it was Silco who threw in the fuel and made it worse,” you say, taking a step towards Vi. You put your finger on her chest. “The fire won’t go out with apologies and promises. You have to accept who she is now, with all of her flaws and all of her demons. That is, if you truly want her back, or if you just want Powder back.”
Vi’s face hardens. “Of course I want her back, Powder’s my sis—”
You press your finger in harder, cutting her off with a stoic reply, “Jinx or Powder?”
She stares at you for a few seconds, then says, “Powder.”
You back off, waving your hand at her. Of course she wouldn’t get it. “You don’t understand, Vi. Powder is gone. You say that name, you may as well be talking to a dead person, got it?”
“And how would you fucking know that?” Vi’s voice raises a decibel. You give her the coldest look you can muster. You’ve been told you look terrifying, and you recognize that very thought passing Vi’s face.
“Because I know Jinx. You’ve been in Stillwater Hold for seven years,” you say. Vi’s eyebrows shoot up, and you laugh, the sound rough through the voice modulator. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s my job to know things.” You exhale. “A lot of things can change in seven years, Vi. The Powder you know and love is gone. Jinx is here, and you have to accept that if you ever want her back.”
Vi shakes her head— not at you, but at herself. The jittery movements of her eyes remind you of Jinx, and now you see the mannerisms slipping through. Vi runs a hand through her hair, tugging at the strands until she turns to you, grief in her eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”
“She kept the flare and when you showed up, she used it,” you reply. “Isn’t that enough for you to know she wants you back just as much as you do?”
Vi blinks. It’s to pull back the tears. You pull your hood over your head, walking to the door. Footsteps behind you and Vi grabs onto your arm. She whispers, “Please, just take me back to her.”
You look at Vi. “She’ll come to you when she’s ready.”
Vi pushes you. You catch yourself on the wall, not even tripping over your feet. Vi shouts, “What a fucking great person you are, Vanisher!”
“I know I’m a bad person, Vi, and Jinx accepts that about me, just like I accept that about her,” you say with a tone of finality that leaves no room for argument. Vi stares at you with barely masked contempt. “You can’t change her. You fucked up. All you can do now is accept her.”
You merely leave the room. You pass Ekko and Caitlyn and give them each a nod.
Ekko stops you with his arm. To you alone, he whispers, “What did you say to her?”
“What she needed to hear,” you say in return. You push his arm down and walk out of the Firelight’s Sanctuary.
You’ve done what you needed to do. There are some loose ends that you need to tie up to keep your involvement with anything at a minimum, but when you’re done, you’ll return to Jinx. You always will.
She’s not at your hideout. When you arrive, your clothes are folded (messily) on the table, her guns are gone, and so is your hidden blade that you left with her. No note, no nothing to say where she’s gone.
You don’t panic.
You simply close down your hideout and begin heading towards the wind silo. She did say she was going back there, but you thought to check your place first just to be consistent.
By the time you arrive at Jinx’s den, you realize something is incredibly off. It’s quiet. Too quiet. No loud music, no shouting, and no laughing. No Jinx.
“Jinx?” You call out, walking across the fan blades to her work table. You glance around the desk, checking every possible hiding place she might have within her home, but you turn up with nothing. Her ammo stores are nearly empty, and the mirror in front of her table is broken.
Your attention drops to the object laying on the table. Your hidden blade, complete with a note laying on top. The paper is rough and thick. You unfold it and read.
Your blades could use some real work. No disrespect to Yelora or whatever, but these things are outdated as fuck. I did ya a favor and updated the mechanisms for quicker reaction time! Also, I may or may not have broken the blade so that when you trigger it, it pivots so you can use it as a dagger too! Try it on, toots, I guarantee you’ll love it!
At the mention of your blade being broken, you almost feel angry. But, when you slide the newly modified blade onto your left arm, you find that it fits much better than before, more snugly and less uncomfortable bits stabbing you in the skin. You arch your wrist to extend the blade.
The fuller of the blade is painted neon pink. Of course. You laugh at the sight of it. In the center of the blade’s length is a gear. When you tilt your hand to the side, the gear responds, twisting the blade so you can hold it like, as Jinx said, a dagger.
“Holy hell,” you say. You flip the blade upright and slide it back in. It goes with no problems, and you repeat the process. The springs and coils work better than ever, and you’re so fucking impressed by Jinx’s ingenuity that you nearly forget the important question; where the fuck is she?
You go back to the note. You flip it over.
P.S. I’m at the northern bridge into Piltover. I’ve gotta get that gemstone back. See you there for the show, baby.
You recall Caitlyn Kiramman mentioning plans at the bridge, followed by the knowledge that the Enforcers of Piltover have started a barricade blocking trade into Piltover. On Jinx’s worktable, you see dozens of little bots that look like the firelights you see in the greenest parts of Zaun.
When you pick one up and throw it on the wall, it explodes. Jinx made these. If all of these can explode on command… then…
“Fuck,” you whisper.
You turn and you run.
A/N: hope you guys have good therapists. part 8 is going to hurt. a lot. also, I know some people want me to do tag lists, but it's just too much for me to remember and write down everytime Im sorry guys 😭
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What My Followers Want to See More of in Female Characters
My favorite thing in my WIP is all the badass female characters I have. I love writing about the bonds, friendships, relationships, and rivalries between them. It makes my little heart so happy! And, I will be the first person to admit that I hadn’t even thought of some of the things you guys suggested on our little instagram poll, but I cannot wait to add some of them to my story! Even though we’ve made so many leaps and bounds with the way female characters are portrayed, I still think we’ve got a long way to go, and if you guys include half of the stuff you suggested in your stories, then I think we’re gonna be okay. Once again, I didn’t change anything that you guys wrote, so there are gonna be some repeats on the list, but this time just because the list was getting so long, I did take out a few things if I saw that several other people had suggested it!
“Nerdy” or sporty girl who gets a love interest without a makeover or changing herself
super girly femme characters shown as a complex person
making her own decisions, if good or bad
a strong female character without a tragic backstory
gender non conformity!!
Being openly children and not changing her mind about it
chubby and flaws and not having a crush with every cute boy they see
girlie girls who are still really powerful
self reliance but still having emotion, not being ice cold but not needing a a man
lesbians who’s entire character arc isn’t about them being a lesbian
having body insecurities eg wanting to be flat-chested
women in politics and women that have classic “man” as well as “woman” characteristics
be less oblivious lol and more like real people who pick up hints
not dead caring moms.
comic relief female characters
not minding about liking “girly” things/ having a bunch of friends who are boys but there is no romance between them
being a mother doesn’t mean giving up ur dreams and settling for less,
having mcs that actually make smart decisions
a bad ass character that loves kids and wants to have them in the future
not taking abuse cause they think it’s love
ball gowns and pretty stuff for themselves and not for a mission or anything
more bold female characters since many females are shown as shy
having a big appetite
female characters who can be cool without having to wield swords
willingness to do domestic work with a cheerful heart
women whose strength is their intelligence
women who are not afraid to be feminine or strong
strong mother figures
girls that are the lead in their relationship over the boy
more actual girly interests
the women you least expect to sing the best
strong women who like feminine stuff
being happy without a romantic relationship
black females being protected or vulnerable for once
ending up single
hanging out with male friends with no romantic subtext
females who aren’t super pretty
ultra femininity (pink, dresses, glitter, makeup) that isn’t seen as bad/evil/weak
allow them to look up to/admire male peers rather than feel inferior or as if they have something to prove
traditional “femininity” isn’t regarded as weak! Can cook/sew/clean and it’s normal : )
Female characters who are funny and make quips
soft, kind women, who are still powerful. I don’t like the mean strong girl stereotype : (
Not forced strong women. Just relatable and human ones. We all have strengths and weaknesses
less insecurities. Yes, we all have those, but it’s becoming stereotypical, mostly in YA
I want them to be strong without being upright bossy
strong women who also embrace their feminine side
a girl with menstruation
ego actions- I feel like only male characters can throw ego actions while fem characters are classified selfish
nonbinary female characters
has a twin
sarcasm and general impoliteness without making them the bady guy
them being warriors or soldiers and that’s normal, nobody questions it
villains and manipulating
autistic female characters
being single throughout the story. Some people like being single, thank you very much
not being the perfect pretty little thing. Having an interesting personality and thoughts, dreams outside of relationships and being a badass
a morally grey female character like y r those only men
girls and women in healthy relationships with personalities aside from their S/O
girls who can be strong and confident while still being emotionally vulnerable
also, girls who own huge “aggressive” dog breeds
groups of girls doing really impulsive things together like all guy friend groups do
strong, but not jerks about it and not looking down on things like sewing/cooking/etc
shyness that doesn’t need to be “fixed” or overcome
well written romances- straight and gay (ie not ones that objectify one partner or the other)
“strong female characters” who are gentle and caring! Tough doesn’t mean heatless!
women who care more about the plot than their inconvenient love life
girls who empower other girls and don’t play into internalized misogyny
i’d love to see women putting forward their ideas and having their voices heard more : )
Strong in their own way, not just hands on fighting stuff. Like mentally strong
less who are arrogant and rude to the male protagonists who they fall in love with anyway
More LGBTQ+ women!
Oh and more female protagonists who stay single
being average looking, not a hot model and being okay with it
Not falling for “bad boys”
saving herself or another character from a dangerous situation
not wanting marriage or children and people being okay with it
not obsessed with looks
being good at math and sciences
not being sexualized constantly (or at all)
being just friends with straight male characters
being like other girls
having a life outside of romance
to not need a man, but also not to be a stereotypical “bad girl, I don’t need man” authors need to find a medium between the two
drinking, swearing, anything deemed “masculine”
confident women who embrace both their femininity and masculinity
empowering other women
somebody with variety of interests and skills that are shown to be important to her badass female characters who are genuinely kind/even loving
strong women who don’t discredit the model of the ideal woman of the time in historical fiction
older women protagonists! I’d love to read about middle aged female heroes
females that aren’t afraid to be themselves
strength without being a “baddie” or at the expense of others
emotional sensitivity that isn’t linked to mental illness, men, or a weakness in character
a chaotic neutral female protagonist
physically strong/skilled female characters that remain feminine and aren’t femme fatales
female characters that don’t particularly fit into a trope as that’s not really realistic
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MIRACULOUS LADYBUG CHARACTERS REACTION TO: NICKNAMES PART TWO
request: Hi! Can you do a continuation of Nicknames (their reaction to being called a cutesy nickname by their crush or s/o) for Adrien, Ladybug, Chat Noir, Kagami and Luka! Thank you!!
requester: @buckysababy @emmacata
note: hiya! so a lot of my babes (you guys) enjoyed my last nicknames post and i have a couple requests for a part two! both buckysababy and emmacata requested some of these characters so i tagged you both but used buckysababy’s request first since she requested first, if that makes sense. i’ll get to Em’s request next! love you both, love you all! reblog and i might just hug you :)
warnings: i don’t think there’s anything but let me know!
links: masterlist + request guidelines + last post + taglist
one day you caught Adrien on the phone with someone, ending the call with, “see you tonight, prince(ss).” you laughed hysterically, not expecting your best friend to call some one prince(ss) but this was way too good to let go. “oh? well, well, well, what does the prince have to say for himself? huh Adrien?” the whole day you called Adrien variations of prince, your grace, your highness, sire, etc... and to his dismay and your enjoyment, he blushed profusely every time.
later that day you went home to find a message in your voicemail box, it was from Adrien so you opened it, expecting to find some kind of “don’t call me princely names anymore” stuff, but instead, it said “i thought i’d take a leap and finally ask you out, so if you would like to join me for dinner tonight, i’ll be waiting under the Eiffel Tower, hopefully i’ll see you tonight, prince(ss).” ... oh. maybe you should’ve kept your teasing to a minimum.
the day you joined Chat Noir in calling Ladybug “bug-a-boo” was the day she confided in Alya that she quite liked the nickname, in which Alya told Nino, to which Nino told Ivan, who told Mylene, who told Alix, who told Juleka, who told Rose, who told you. So, you told Chat Noir to knock it off so only you could call Ladybug that.
So here you were, dangling off the Eiffel Tower, cursing Hawkmoth, and about to plummet when your knight in shining tights swooped you off your feet... or off your mid-air-stamina-battle-of-instant-death. Ladybug landed on a roof top, and embraced you so tightly she squeezed all the air from your lungs. when she let go, she told you, “i’ll always save you, bub.” and wiped an unknown tear from your cheek. you didn’t know that you were scared, but Ladybug always did.
one night Chat came to see if you were alright, Sandboy revisited the Parisian’s dreams that night, and Chat, caring for everyone but himself came to you first. he sighed in relief when he found you sleeping peacefully. though not for long as he tackled you in an embrace and your peace turned into chaotic fear up until you saw those flashy green eyes. “i’m so glad your okay, y/n.” you rolled your eyes, “what else would i be, kitten?” the name kind of just rolled off your lips. but it also curved Chat’s, into a satisfied smirk of your friendship increasingly growing.
“ma cherie~”. at first he said it teasingly, but the longer you both spent together, the more love was put into those words until now they all but hold gentleness, and affection. you used to roll your eyes at that nickname, now your heart swells once it’s said. though you never give Chat the satisfaction of knowing you love that nickname, something tells you he figured that out on his own.
“can you pass me the aux, darling?” you called out to luka in the middle of a party with your closest friends. the chatter all around the room ceased and all eyes switched to your shocked, and a little bit flustered, face. but you weren’t the only one, luka after a couple moments regained composure and handed you the aux cord, comically slow, with a hand over his cheeks to cover the fact that he looked like a tomato.
you continued to call luka darling for months, and eventually you both had a lot of unspoken feelings; the way you both became flustered when your hands brushed, the way you could never keep eye contact for too long unless you were having a passionate conversation, but the way you put more and more of your love into this nickname “darling” made both your hearts swell. and you thought your heart would burst when he kissed you on your front door step, calling you his muse.
“hello, y/n.” kagami greeted you, to which you acknowledged her with a hug and a “hello, love!” quickly she squirmed out of your hug and broke your spirits, “please, refrain from calling me such things.” you were hurt but most importantly you didn’t know why she would say that. you always called her “love” or “my love”. you always have.
it’s been weeks since kagami heard you call her anything but her name. and she doesn’t mind but she misses your nickname for her, however she has an idea of why you had stopped. kagami rang your doorbell, and a wave of happiness hit her upon seeing your smiling face open the door. “hi, kagami!” you said, your voice music to her ears. with no hesitation kagami took your hand and explained, “i never meant to cause any harm when i told you to refrain from nicknaming me. in truth, i love the nickname you gave me, however, my mother would prefer you call me by my given name, or my family name, when she is around. my apologies for the confusion.. my love.” a smile made its way to your lips then, and kagami hopes it will never leave.
taglist - @the-corner-redacted @spacesuitsforemergency @just-your-local-fanart-weirdo @lerivaleriano @tamakii-amajiki
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I really love these ideas that you make!!!
Can I add nezuko reader-chan too?? Nezuko reader-chan don't talk much have a baguette in her mouth but really good at kicking 😆😆😆
TokyoRev! with a Nezuko!Reader
(Mikey, Izana and Taijiu)
Author's note : Sorry this is short, my head is hurting like a b-
Trigger warnings ⚠️: A bit of violence and some curse words.
Nezuko!reader and Mikey? Chaotic good.
Hear me out, Both are extremely strong, But act in such an airheaded way.
Draken, the one, who'd be responsible for you two most of the time, is just there so you both won’t get yourself killed.
“Nezukooo-chaaaaaan~” And there goes Mikey, chasing you around like the lovesick fool he was.
The only reason he did this, was that he thought you looked extremely cute running around in such a childlike manner.
Though, as sad as it may sound, this was only one of the few moments we’d get to see Mikey, with a different expression on his face.
So the other members were extremely thankful for your presence, even though you didn’t talk much.
Appearance and actions-wize you were the breath of fresh air that kept Mikey from spiraling into darkness from the trauma he has to experience at such a young age.
So he’d be damned if he was gonna let other people harm you in any way.
Which brings us to this situation.
“What an eyesore.” One of the people who had asked for a fight with Toman declared as he looked at your small figure being hidden by Draken.
Others watched with bated breaths as you could see the thought register in Mikey’s mind.
“Huh? Eyesore? Does he mean ugly? Who?” He asked out loud, turning to Mitsuya, who just looked away.
He then looked at you, only to see you comically tearing up, The baguette in your mouth bending into a frowning position as if that was your mouth.
Getting comforted by a frantic Takemitchy.
He slowly redirected his gaze from you, then to the bozo who had the audacity to say that about you.
“You mtherf*cker-” He began, only to stop himself by rushing towards them.
“Just-” He landed an extremely hard kick to the leader, then rushed over to his body which skidded a few feet away, while the people he came with were frozen from fear.
“Who *punch* in *punch* their *punch* right *mind* would *punch*call-” It continued on like that, Mikey almost beating the person to death, while Draken just watched, his hand on his forehead almost covering his eyes as he stood there with an extremely done expression.
“She’s the beauty of our hometown you stupid bast*rd. If I catch you saying that sh*t again, I’ll make sure, you’ll be eating your own sh*t next time” Mikey spoke, holding the beat up body by his hair. Making him look into his dull and cold eyes.
You could see a wet splatch travelling from his pants. To which you all just “tried” to ignore.
While the other goons he brought with them just ran away, all 20 of them.
Mikey walked back over to your group, staring at you who was being held in place behind Draken by Mitsuya.
When Draken moved aside you could see Mikey, you raised both of your hands up as if to ask for a hug, to which he replied with a smile.
“Sorry” A sheepish voice was heard “I couldn’t hold back” bringing you to his embrace.
“Hmm~!” you enthusiastically said as you patted his head like a child.
You guys were in the same predicament as Kakucho, after your family had died of a disease, you and your brother were put into foster care.
Your first meeting with Izana… Did not go smoothly, though that’s a story for another time.
Before your family was eradicated however, you would remember how traditional they were. That was why you would sometimes openly walk around wearing a pink kimono Izana would always call cute.
To say your brother was iffy about letting you date Izana was an understatement, he went batsh*t on Izana’s ass with a sword.
That day was the moment he realized, He was gonna be stuck with you forever due to your overprotective (Psycho - izana) brother.
He didn’t mind though, someone to stick with him for life, he desperately needed that.
He was the one who suggested you to color your hair at the ends, (A part of him just wanted to spend time with you more that day, but you didn’t hear it from me.)
You guys know how Tanjiro always held Nezuko’s hand? Yeah, that’s you and Izana.
…..Though Kakucho was very jealous of you sometimes lol.
“Hmm!” You spoke through the baguette that was in your mouth. “Ha? You wanna pet the dog?” Izana asked, “Hmm! Hmm!” You replied with sparkling eyes that had Izana amused.
“Fine, go. But wash your hands after.” You walked towards a stranger’s dog as you pet the animal the same way you do with him.
That got Izana patting himself with his own hand but in the exact way you did.
All the while Kakucho was right besides you two, genuinely asking himself if Izana went mad.
Though what he wasn't expecting someone idiotic enough to call himself Izana's "love rival"
"N-nezuko chaaaaan~!" There, a blonde haired and orange tipped boy chased you around, your brother trying to stop him, only to get caught himself in the chase.
Izana, feeling extremely jealous, decided to put a stop on it. In the most brutal way possible.
"Oi." He kicked the younger boy so hard he managed to land a hole on the wall bumped.
"The hell you think you are-" he was about to commit murder actually.
Though Kakucho managed to hold him back...at least for a while.
"It's broad daylight Izana, broad, and there's a lot of witnesses too-" He spoke anxiously, having a hard time hauling the feral Izana away from the now trembling boy.
While you had laid down on the floor, exhausted and panting. You glanced towards there direction. Before crawling to their hectic moving bodies.
You grabbed Izana's hand, making him redirect his attention to you, halting all his movements.
You put it closer to your face, nuzzling it towards your cheeks.
Because of that he had immediately calmed down, making Kakucho let him go.
Continuing to pat your head with the smile that he always held when interacting with you.
"N-Nezuko-Chan~! She saved me! Tanjiro!!!" He sobbed, cradling his bleeding forehead as he pointed to you guys with his other hand.
Yeah Izana let that slide for now, but best believe he kicked his ass half to death after.
Running away from a gang of mobsters was hard.
But nothing you can't handle.
You were running from a group of people who wanted to get you and your team killed. You guys weren't a gang per se.
You guys were just a group of people trying to right the wrongs of people like Taiju. Though, you won't ever call yourselves heroes. You were far from them.
After all, the people you saved depended on whether or not you wanted to, you didn't need a reason to save them nor did you need a reason to not save them.
And here you were, running away from a group of people who nearly stabbed a person to death.
"Come on girly~ Take his place!!" One of them shouted as he looked towards you with a bloodthirsty smile.
"Yeah! you wanted to play hero so bad, now come pay the price!"Another commented as he tried to grab you by your hair.
It was only you and Inosuke this time, though you both split up seeing as there were probably a lot of them.
Though only 2 had wanted to chase you down, most of them chased after the annoying Inosuke who kept riling them up on purpose.
Swerving through a corner, you found yourself crawling through a bush. Trying to lose them on your trail, though the obvious color of your hair made you fail.
They smirked, unknowingly digging their graves.
Now Taiju, was just there because he wanted a smoke, he had just gone through a "stressful" day with his siblings that made him want to work his worries out.
He heard the rustles of leaves and twigs, that made him cautious, "is it an ambush? or perhaps just an animal"
Though both were wrong as he watched you weave your way through, your bright clothing making anybody near sense you right away.
He watched as you found a random stray ball to which you kicked hardly through the bushes. Hearing a loud thump and an 'oof' noise, hopefully knocking one of them out.
"Jace!!" you heard one shout, meaning you had effectively knocked one out.
"You b*tch!" The other swore, his built form rummaging through the bushes as he ran straight at you.
Though, that was all he could do as you immediately struck a kick to his head, forcing him to stumble before he stood up again as if he was unbothered.
All the while, Taiju watched this happen, feeling impressed by your performance. Who knew a cute and feeble looking girl had this much strength and nimbleness. He was mesmerised by the fluidity and grace in your movements.
He watched as your opponent swiped a knife at you, catching you off guard, though he was slow in his movements, making him only graze a part of your forehead.
You retaliated by punching his gut so hard you made him cough up blood in a matter of seconds.
Before finally forcing him to unconsciousness by performing a roundhouse kick to the head.
*Clap* *Clap* *Clap* "That was impressive, shrimp." Taiju uttered, smirking at you while walking closer to your figure.
"Say, I think we'd make a pretty good team. Join my gang, I'll make sure to bring you to the top." He reached his hand out to you.
To which you just slapped away.
You blankly looked at his eyes, which held anger and pent up aggressiveness.
"hey. the hell you b-" Before he could finish his sentence, you took off, running once more with your kimono and hair swaying around.
He watched your back getting smaller and smaller until he couldn't see you anymore.
Looks like he had a new obsession, a new toy he could play with.
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p.s. i love you
pairing ~ steve rogers x f!reader
word count ~ 4.8k
summary ~ when a reminder of his previous life sends you into a spiral of self-doubt, steve only begins to look towards the future.
warnings ~ fluff! slight angst with a happy ending! pre-established relationship, reader enjoying vintage music, flashbacks to first meetings, mention of alcohol but like it could be apple juice? i don’t really refer to it as anything specific, so water if you’d like! bit of an awkward reader, but like awkward during a first meeting?? with steve rogers?? so i think very understandable. also, an awkward steve rogers, reader being an overthinker, no explicit mention of ptsd but allusions to it on steve’s part, platonic bucky, mention and small discussion of peggy.
a/n ~ this is based on this wonderful ask! so thank you anon for that! if you are out there somewhere reading this, i hope you enjoy! anyways, as i also said in the response to said ask, i am simply a sucker for some older music (shoutout to @nocapesdahling for our lil discussion on this! and unintentionally inspiring this one! i hope you enjoy this as well!) as well as steve rogers, and as soon as i wrote that baby drabble, i just had to do something bigger based off of it! also, i know steve 100% played ‘it’s been a long, long time’ in ca:tws in his apartment, but let’s just pretend he doesn’t play ‘his music’ really all that much or in front of you at all for a moment! mwauh! i hope you all enjoy!
You knew pretty much everything there was to know about Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers pretty much knew everything there was to know about you, well, except for maybe one thing.
You only listened to it when he was away on missions, ‘his music’, when you knew he would be gone for a few days, when you knew you’d worry for him, those unhurried, soft melodies from his time always made it feel like a part of him was still there in your apartment with you.
And when you wrapped your arms around yourself, doing your very best to imagine that it was him holding you, you couldn’t help but hum happily, recalling the first time he had ever held you.
‘The trembling trees embraced the breeze tenderly, then you and I came wandering by, and lost in a sigh were we’
“So you’re the one he’s always talking about?” He smiled from behind his drink, and you took in the man before you, everything Sam had mentioned about him was very, very, correct, if not more so. His crisp, blue button-down fit him almost comically perfectly, complimenting those beautiful blue eyes that you were sure had seen hundreds, if not thousands of tragedies, yet still held a surprising warmth within them.
“I hope all good things?” You replied, throwing a mocking glare to your friend
“There’s not really a lot of bad I can say...” Sam chuckled, “Well, except for that one time-”
You cut him off quickly, handing him a glass, almost forcing the liquid down his throat yourself. You had just met the man, you didn’t need Sam recounting every embarrassing training story of yours right now, maybe in some far-off future, you thought, maybe you’d tell him all of your stories yourself, and maybe he’d tell you all of his. You’ve known him for at maximum, 10 seconds, were you really thinking of a future with him already? And then he smiled at you, this time, not from behind his glass, allowing you an unobstructed view, And yes. You definitely were.
“Well I guess until I hear about that one time, yes, all good things.” He said the words so softly, leaning into you like he was indulging you in a secret of his own.
“So…” You shuffled awkwardly in place, and you could almost hear the quiet wince that escaped Sam’s mouth. You were typically never any good at the whole ‘meeting new people’ thing, but you had never heard Sam audibly cringe at you during an encounter, he had to cut you some slack though, it was Steve Rogers, Captain America, and he just expected you to jump into casual conversation with him like it was nothing?
But lucky for you, it seemed that the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan was feeling, a little less, with a plan, tonight as well.
“Would you want to dance?” There was a short pause before he corrected himself, “With me? I mean if you didn’t that’s fine too, but with me would be-” he sighed, collecting himself “Nice.”
You could have sworn you could hear Sam roll his eyes at you two, but you barely had enough room in your brain to think about that, not when now, it seemed that your every thought was occupied by his smile. “Yeah, that would be… Nice” you smiled back at him, placing your hand in his as he led you to the dance floor.
It wasn’t long before the two of you fell into a comforting rhythm, slowly swaying to the music as you talked and laughed. If you weren’t so distracted with how well your conversation was going, maybe you would’ve seen how all of your friends and teammates were staring at the two of you.
“They look good.” Bucky muttered under his breath, reluctantly passing Sam a ten-dollar bill.
“Knew they would” Sam cocked an eyebrow in response.
“Should we just leave and see how much longer they stay here for?” Natasha added
“No way, I’m staying.” Sam declared, “I’ve got ten more dollars that says they kiss by the end of the night.”
‘I can't forget how two hearts met breathlessly, your arms opened wide and closed me inside, you took my lips, you took my love so tenderly’
You hadn’t heard him come in, you supposed it was due to your memory-induced haze, but when you heard his duffel bag hit the floor with a loud ‘thump’ you all but sprinted to your phone on the counter, pausing the music as soon as you could.
Steve stood dumbstruck, his feet seemed to be glued to the spot just in front of your doorway. You couldn’t even read his reaction, was he happy? Upset? Shocked? You wanted to run into his arms and just hold on forever, but now, you were terrified to even move from your current position.
You knew it was hard for Steve sometimes, even though it had been a while since he was first pulled from the ice, some days were harder than others. Some days you would wake up and turn to see him sitting tensely on the edge of the bed, staring at an old, faded picture of him and Bucky, taken right before he was deployed. You wondered if he ever wished he could go back to that time, before… everything, a part of you felt the green shadow of jealousy wash over you at the thought.
But you would never do anything to intentionally upset him, to call out to the nightmares of endless fighting and war and lost friends that you knew lived deep down inside of him, and bring them to the surface, but as the two of you stood, looking at each other wide-eyed and confused, you believed you had done just that.
“You’re home!” You tried to hide the nervousness in your voice, the slight tremor as you walked slowly over to him. He smiled softly at you, and a huff of breath left you at the sight, okay so he’s not upset.
His arms opened slowly, you could sense how tired he was as you molded yourself to his chest, feeling just how tense his muscles were.
He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, just as he normally would.
Maybe he hadn’t heard the music at all. Everything’s fine, everything’s normal.
But then he let you go,
Everything was not normal.
The way he trailed off made a pit form in the bottom of your stomach, even though the rational part of your brain told you that you had nothing to worry about and he was probably just tired, that not-so-rational part of you told you otherwise.
“How was everything?” You replied timidly, you hated this, you knew he was coming home today, and yet you still decided to dance around your empty apartment and listen to those silly love songs. You had never played any of those songs in front of him, not because you didn’t want to share every part of yourself with him, you just didn’t want to dig up all of those memories he had again, not when he was just doing so well.
“Tired…” He uttered, “Think ‘m gonna go take a nap before dinner.”
He pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead before walking past you into your shared bedroom.
You stood in the same place, you weren't even sure how to feel, confused? Worried? Scared? No, you’re just overthinking things, he’s just tired, that’s all.
That night, though you found him sleeping in the same bed beside you, it still felt just as cold as it did when he wasn’t there.
You laid on your side, facing the wall, barely able to sleep as your own antagonizing thoughts replayed in your mind, had you really just ruined everything over a stupid song?
You groaned in annoyance, begrudgingly throwing the covers off of your form. You wondered how your bed could feel so unbearably hot whilst still seeming bone-chillingly cold all at once as you tried to convince yourself that the temperature was the only reason you found yourself venturing into the living room in the middle of the night.
It wasn’t just a song though, was it?
It was the memories that came with it.
Over the course of your relationship with Steve, he had slowly explained to you everything you didn’t already know about him, the train, the war, Peggy. Just like how you occasionally found yourself in bouts of nostalgia for bits and pieces of your childhood whenever the radio played some long forgotten bubble-pop tune from your younger years, you assumed the same of him, albeit for a different time.
You could never ask him to simply forget that part of his life, you never would, but sometimes you stumbled upon longing for those times as well, wondering what it would have been like to be with him back then, so you started listening to the music of his time.
You didn’t mean to develop your love of the music as much as you had, slowly amassing hours long playlists of your favorites, but as you added song after song, it felt less about the lyrics or melodies, but about him. You don’t know how, but the music just felt like him. You could almost feel his lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he sang along, strong arms swaying you back and forth as you rested your head on his chest. They became a comfort when you were separated from him, the ballads bringing back a sliver of his warmth to your apartment when he was away on missions.
But now, the music you had found such solace in, felt like your adversary, but again, you could’ve just been overthinking things.
You threw your arms above your head, a quiet yawn emanating from you as you sat up on the couch. You quickly glanced at your surroundings, haven forgotten about your midnight location change.
“G’morning” a slightly scratchy voice called out to you
You turned to look at him, gracefully sliding scrambled eggs onto two plates, you smiled softly, you didn’t think you would ever get used to seeing America’s Golden Boy being so domestic, and in your shared kitchen no less.
“Morning” you replied groggily, you scanned his features as you journeyed to the table, looking for any sign of discomfort, but you found nothing, everything felt almost concerningly normal, almost forced, and you hated it. As much as you scowled at yourself for thinking it, you almost wanted him to come out and just speak to you in that disappointed-father tone of his, to say how he was upset with you, but instead, you two sat in silence as you ate, anxiously awaiting the dropping of the other shoe, though it never came.
As you two danced around each other in your bathroom preparing for the day, bumping into each other periodically as you changed, it still never came. And nothing else did either. There was a heavy silence in every room that you walked in, regardless of if Steve was in the room or not, the two of you barely uttering a word to each other as you went about your daily business.
Each time that you glanced over at him, he seemed so lost in thought, and it pained you to even let your own mind wander into what he may be pondering. Had he finally gotten sick of you? With all your unpredictability and caring-too-much and those sleepless nights when you just rambled for hours that he swore that he loved so much, was this finally it?
One song that reminded him a bit too much of all the time he missed, and here came goodbye.
You found your leg bouncing on its own accord as you fought back the tears, anxiously fidgeting with a stray thread on the couch. It had only been a few hours and you already knew that an entire day of this waiting game would only lead you to your own slow, torturous death. so you quickly changed your plans of doing chores all day, opting to spend some time with the world's leading authority on frozen-in-time-super-soldiers.
“Did anything… Happen?” You asked, attempting to hide the slight tremor in your voice by taking another sip of your drink.
“Where should I even start,” Bucky replied, taking a deep sigh, grumbling in annoyance to himself.
Maybe something did happen on the mission and he really was just tired, maybe you really were overthinking this. “Well did he talk about anything… In particular, maybe about when you guys were younger?”
You knew that if anything serious had happened to Steve, or if he had said or done anything peculiar, Bucky would be the first to tell you, but as you sit across from him, nervously sipping your coffee, you couldn’t help but feel a tad guilty at your inquiry.
Bucky shook his head, the shadow of a smile pulling the corners of his lips, “Do you really wanna know?” He cocked his eyebrow at you
You felt the butterflies begin to bloom in a pit at the bottom of your stomach, but could you even call them butterflies? More like moths, smothering any light of happiness that you may have had when you first sat down as he said those words. “Y-yeah” You managed to choke out, taking a steadying breath to prepare yourself for whatever was coming next.
“He wouldn’t stop talking about you.” He added nonchalantly
Your eyebrows furrowed, not in anger or concern, more from shock if anything.
“He kind of never stops talking about you if I’m gonna be honest. Haven’t seen him this happy in a while.”
You assumed he had continued talking as you gazed out the window. “Does he ever talk about-” You sighed, you really hated to bring this up, but you needed to know. “Her?”
You knew that he loved her once, and you winced slightly at the thought. You knew he had an entire life before you, you were just afraid that you may have brought up those feelings again, if only you hadn’t put on the stupid playlist, you wouldn’t have to be so worried about this.
His lips pressed in a thin line, he placed a comforting hand over yours, until then, you hadn’t even noticed how your fingers rapidly drummed on the table.
“Hey,” He almost whispered, you looked up at him through dampening lashes, when had you started crying? “He loves you, I promise, and I would’ve thrown him out the window if he had said even a word about any other girl. You make him so happy, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile this much. You’ve changed his life.” A sympathetic smile turned the corners of his lips as he continued.
You sniffled, whipping away the rogue tears beginning to spill over onto your cheeks. You tried to appreciate him telling you that, but your breath hitched in your throat as you awkwardly awaited him to add the ‘But…’ to his monologue. You shifted through every memory from the past few weeks, searching for anything that could have acted as the final straw for Steve, but could find nothing. Another wave of tears threatened to commence as the ‘what if’s’ entered your mind.
Though nothing else slipped past his lips.
So you muttered a quick “Thank you”, before gathering your courage to journey back to your apartment.
It was such a large part of him, he wasn’t from this time, but he had made such an effort in trying. Every time you made some offhand reference to ‘Saved by The Bell’ or maybe even sang some cheesy 80's pop song, you noticed how quickly he would pull out his book, jotting down the words and quickly tucking it away again. You wondered if he had made notes on the margins about the movies or songs you recommended to him, but with the way he always had it safely nestled in his back pocket, for now you could only imagine the musings and notes he had possibly written about ‘Titanic’
Or maybe you wouldn’t have to imagine them.
Was it really stealing if someone had just left it on the kitchen counter?
You turned, checking for any signs of life in all directions, before doing your best to covertly abduct the small notebook. You hadn’t been living in the tower very long, so you thought it would be best if you went through your new coworker’s things in the privacy of your own quarters.
You tried not to squeal in delight, making yourself comfortable amongst your pillows as if you were getting ready to indulge in a classic novel. This wasn’t anything to be excited about, this was not very avengers-are-good-people-and-don’t-steal-things of you, but it was basically just asking to be picked up, and better yours than the wrong hands, (or Tony’s, the two were interchangeable).
The first few pages were expectantly boring, lists of television shows and albums and historical events lined every page, with the addition of a few smiley faces, you assumed indicating things he particularly enjoyed. As you turned deeper into the book though, you began to notice the stars, small, hand drawn scribbles that accompanied a few of the items.
“Those are my favorites”
You scrambled in your bed, hastily picking up another book from your side table as you attempted to play off the fact that you had indeed just stolen a super soldier’s private property.
Feigning a weak smile as you silently cursed yourself for not thinking to close the door behind you before snooping, you began to stutter out a reply “Steve, I-”
“No it’s okay,” He chuckled softly, slowly ambling into your room. You could have sworn that the temperature had risen at least ten degrees since he had set foot in your doorway, you were practically melting under the warmth of his kind gaze. “May I?” He gestured toward your bed, and you quickly nodded, an unfamiliar warmth spreading in your chest as you felt just how far the mattress dipped underneath his weight, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the embarrassment of being caught, or another feeling entirely.
Ever since that night on the dance floor, you two had become fairly acquainted with each other's rooms, sneaking into one another's quarters when sleep refused to visit either of you, or just to sit in a comfortable silence when the world became too much. It all felt so easy between the two of you, the laughter, the banter, the trust, but now, just because you felt so pick-pocket-ly - inclined, you could have very possibly thrown it all out the window.
Any words you could have said in this moment seemed to be caught in your throat, there was no explanation for why you had suddenly come into possession of his notebook other than you simply just seeing it and taking it, god, how could you be so stupid-
“Those are my favorites” he repeated, smiling as he picked up the book and flipped to the last page you had been on.
There was no hiding the shocked expression that was written all over your face. You had very obviously taken the one thing he always carried with him, he probably looked all over the Tower for it, turned his entire room inside out, but he seemed so calm, like he just knew you would have it.
He pointed to a few items on the page, “As much as I like the other stuff, these are my favorites” he hummed as his eyes scanned the lists, slowly repeating a few of the movies and songs that were written down.
The realization hit you harder than the shock of being caught, these weren’t just his favorite things, they were yours.
All the songs you sang in the shower when you had thought nobody could hear you, the movies you had quoted and then gasped when you realized he had most likely never had seen it before, only to clumsily scramble over to sit beside him to recount the plot to him. It almost seemed like every offhand movie reference or mention of a song from your childhood was written down.
An exuberant burst of laughter broke you from your thoughts, and you found yourself laughing with him, while you weren’t sure exactly what he was laughing at, you were sure you could get used to the sound of his happiness.
He continued to read from his notebook, occasionally turning to you to tell you why he enjoyed it so much, though you found it hard to listen when the sliver of warm, fading sunlight that crept through your window traced his features the way it did. You’d never wished to be an artist, but suddenly, in this moment, you found yourself with the deep desire to paint.
Though you were content to simply just admire the view for now.
You raised your eyebrows in response, mentally cringing at yourself as you prayed he didn’t just catch you staring so intently at his features.
“Thank you” he added softly, placing his hand on your thigh
“For what?” You laughed, you certainly hadn’t done anything worth being thanked, especially after just stealing his property, tilting your head in confusion as you tried to think of anything else you could have possibly done to warrant his response
“Just…” He sighed, a touch of annoyance spiked his tone, like he was just hoping you could understand him without so many words. “Thank you”
You just smiled in response, nodding your head and placing your hand atop his.
Maybe you did understand.
You hastily whipped your tears as you stood in front of your door. You tried your best to convince yourself you were being irrational, that everything was fine, even though things felt anything but fine.
You couldn’t keep avoiding him. You were going to march into your apartment and find out what was wrong once and for all, if you could only convince your trembling hands to turn the door knob.
The door slowly opened with a quiet groan from the slightly rusting hinges
“Was starting to wonder when you’d get back”
You didn’t mean to let your bag collapse to the floor, nor did you mean to gasp as loud as you did, but how could you not?
It was like something out of a movie, small candles lining the kitchen counter and scattered throughout the living room, you found yourself chuckling quietly to yourself as you noticed rose petals thrown about haphazardly around the living room.
“D’you like it?”
You finally turned to look at him, and you felt a lump begin to form in your throat.
There he was, Steven Grant Rogers, looking at you with every ounce of love he held within his body, in his old military uniform.
You covered your mouth to stifle the gasp that escaped your lips
“Still fits” He added
“I’d say so” you mumbled, mostly to yourself, but the sly smirk that pulled at the corner of his lips told you otherwise.
“I uh, I wanted to ask you something...” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, his eyes glued to the floor as he awaited a response.
But you couldn’t think of one. You had almost forgotten why you had been so upset in the first place, almost. “We should-” you sighed, gathering the courage to continue, “We should talk.”
“Oh, yeah, of course” He rushed, you almost felt a slight relief at the thought that he may be just as nervous as you.
You took a few steps closer to him, careful not to disrupt any of the petals that were scattered across the flooring. “I’m-” You cut yourself off with a sob, and in an instant you were falling into his chest, your tears flowing freely as you cried out every emotion you had been holding in since he came home.
“Hey, hey, hey” he whispered, lifting your chin up with two fingers to look at him, “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?”
You could see the panic in his eyes as he scanned your face for any answers.
“No, no, you didn’t do anything” You sniffled, “I just wanted to say sorry.” It was hard to look at him as the words tumbled from your mouth, he clearly wasn’t aware of anything going wrong, and you felt a twinge of anger at yourself as you thought how you might have just reminded him of something he wasn’t even fully aware of until now, you closed your eyes, readying yourself for whatever ‘put-them-down-gently’ goodbye that he was surely putting together in his mind during the heavy silence.
“Sweetheart, what are you sorry for?”
You furrowed your brows, “What?” Was the only word you could manage to sputter through your confusion.
“I’m sorry” He added “When I came home, and I heard you playing that song” He laughed, “It just got me thinking about a lot of things, and I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything about them until now.”
And here it comes, the ‘but’, the goodbye. You almost felt like stopping him right there and turning back to walk out the door yourself, then, you at least wouldn’t have to hear him say it himself.
You were too caught up in your own thoughts to realize how he was swaying you back and forth, “You know, I’ve spent so much of my life living in the past. Always feeling like I was living in the wrong time, like maybe things would’ve been better- different” he corrected, “if I had stayed back then. But seeing you, dancing around in our apartment…” He took your being caught off guard as the perfect opportunity to spin you, holding out his harm and turning you back into his chest as you giggled. “I realized, I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” He suddenly pulled away from you then, his eyes searching the room around you as if he had misplaced something. An almost silent gasp parted his lips as he almost lunged to reach under the side table by the front door behind you.
“Close your eyes” He whispered, and you happily complied.
After a slight ruckus and shuffling, you heard it.
‘The trembling trees embraced the breeze tenderly, then you and I came wandering by, and lost in a sigh were we’
You snapped your eyes open, your gaze landing on the new addition to your kitchen counter.
“Steve…” You sighed, eyes welling up with tears once again
“Well actually, Bucky found it at some antique store he was passing by and he told me about it and I just thought you might like it” He explained rapidly before you could even fathom a response.
The rich mahogany finish on the box played in perfect contrast to the shimmering, golden lettering on the underside of the lid and it’s matching hinges. You stepped closer to it, gently tracing your hand along the intricate carvings that lay around the base. You wondered how Bucky had found something in such good condition in an antique store, the record spinning without a single skip, the smooth melody filling your apartment with a new kind of warmth.
“It’s beautiful” you breathed
If you weren’t so busy admiring the artistry of the Victrola, maybe you would’ve noticed the weight of Steve’s gaze on your form.
His hands snaking around your waist had you finally turning to look up at him, and before you could say thank you, he continued.
“I wanted to tell you, I haven’t really thought about those things in a while, everything that happened back then, ‘cus now I’ve just been thinking about the future, and-” He cleared his throat, like his own words were threatening to strangle him if he didn’t get them out soon enough, “And how I’d like to spend it with you… If you’d let me?”
Your hands fell from his chest as he slowly bent down on one knee, retrieving the small, black velvet box from his pocket, “Would you do me the honor of-”
Before he could even finish, your lips were on his as you pulled him up by his collar, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” You repeated, punctuating each utterance of the phrase with another kiss.
“So I can take that as a yes…?” He mumbled as you continued your pursuit
When you lifted your chin to look at him, your heart dropped. His eyes were glassy, his brow furrowed, the beginnings of a blush beginning to crawl onto his cheeks, his hands trembled as you held them, was he scared?
Though as you looked deeper into his eyes, you understood. He was scared, he wasn’t sure if you would say yes.
You could almost laugh at his presumption, but you chose to whisper instead, “Yes. Of course. Always.”
His expression turned in an instant, eyes shining with excitement and hope for the future, your future.
He slipped the ring on your finger hurriedly and held you with a gentleness like you would float away in a puff of smoke if he clutched onto you too tightly. And in truth, you wouldn’t mind if you did, if you disappeared into thin air tomorrow, you would be happy knowing this night was your final one spent on this Earth.
But it wasn’t, and neither would be tomorrow night, or the next day.
You had the promise of one thousand forevers at your fingertips, and you couldn’t wait to spend them all with him.
oh goodness, i hope you all enjoy this bit of fluff as much as i did writing it! the song i used in this one is 'tenderly' by rosemary clooney, but also was inspired by 'p.s. i love you' by billie holiday! let me know if you give them a listen, they're just so cute! thank you so so much for reading! and as always, reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated! feel free to hop into my asks, i'd love for you to let me know what you think! (or if you just want to talk about all the nerdy things!)
want more steve rogers? check out my masterlist!
i hope you are all doing so well! mwauh!
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Hi! Could I please get a slightly nsfw Sang-Woo reaction to an inexperienced s/o? Like they're super shy and too timid to initiate things 🥺🥺 thank youuu 🥰
I live for this request I stg-
Also, for a quick second I imagined Oh Sangwoo from Killing Stalking and my brain short-circuited a bit, sorry x I love that comic tho x
You're absolutely the most precious little thing in his life and that's not even a joke.
He's been through hell and back and he had to witness the death of 455 people, including his childhood friend, all for his own survival and to get the money so he and his mum could live a proper freaking life and have her live her last elderly years in peace.
And you... You're the reason for finally getting some peace of his own, both mentally and emotionally, because after the games, he was left in a horrible state and he's really grateful for your love, patience and kindness.
He'd reciprocate everything 200%, and even though he's not the best with words, his touches are all gentle, as if you're a precious crystal and his hugs are the warmest and most safe you've felt in your life.
If you think that he's an angel with you in general, you should see him when being intimate.
He's not shy, per se, but he's incredibly attentive and focuses on you, your needs and pleasure more than anything.
For him, it's very rarely a pleasure thing, more like a physical, natural need, for you somehow make the experience worth every second - Perhaps it's really just the fact that it's you and that he loves you that much.
Sangwoo doesn't care that you're inexperienced, in fact, he'd treat you with the same love and care regardless, taking care of you and minding your boundaries and every flinch of your body, the sweet spots, the more ticklish ones, the ones that make you squirm underneath him and the ones that make you hide your face with embarrassment.
He'd assume the more dominant role, albeit, a very sweet and caring soft dom, yet if you suddenly want to be on top, he'd indulge you and let you do as you pleased.
If you wanted him to lay on his back, his hands pinned above his head by your own while you ride him with that sinful expression on your face, he'd love it.
But he'd also love it if you just wanted to sit on his lap and embrace him, allowing his hands to grip your hips and guide you, while his mouth leaves trails of kisses and marks all over your skin.
Other than that, he'd want to go missionary because that way he can look at your beautiful face, bury his face in the crook of your neck and embrace you, grunting and sighing only for you and you alone to ever hear such lewd sounds.
He wouldn't go down on you right away, especially if you're so shy, it might be too much for your cute little heart to handle, but after some time when he makes sure you're more comfortable with being naked and intimate together, he'd eat you up even without thing needing to escalate further - Maybe before work, if he felt in the mood, or thought you were a bit hot and bothered, he'd just lay you down on the bed and put your thighs on his shoulders, kissing your skin down to your womanhood and teasing you until you start squirming and whimpering.
I don't think Sangwoo would be one to ever say that he wants you to go down on him - In fact, he'd be a bit reticent if you ever wanted to initiate something like that - But if you insisted, he'd just comply and definitely won't resist.
He'd caress your hair and be more vocal than usual, to encourage you, and he'd guide your head back and forth to a rhythm comfortable to you.
Although, I have to say, if he gets too into it and he's close to the climax, he may unintentionally get you all the way on his shaft and cum down your throat. Oops.
He'll apologise and make up for that oopsie, but hey, if you find that pretty hot, then don't hold back and express what you felt because he won't say no if you want to do that again, obviously.
If you're the type to hide your face when being intimate because you're embarrassed of being vocal, of having lewd expression or simply just being naked in front of him, he'd shower you with more compliments, touches and kisses than ever before, reassuring you at all times.
Overall, he's genuinely one of the best people to have as a boyfriend and being intimate with.
He takes the term "Making love to your beloved" to a whole other level and would always make sure you finish first.
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What its like to date the Obey Me brothers (Headcanons)
(Requests/Asks are OPEN! Please please please submit your ideas if you like my work!!)
(THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!!!!! I know that’s not a whole lot compared to some bigger creators but it means so much to me that there are people who like what I write <3 Thank you so much to the few people who have sent in requests for headcanons! I love to write and you lovely individuals help a hundred times fourfold by interacting and letting me know you’re interested in reading more!)
Theatre dates! If he can get away from his brothers, Lucifer doesn’t mind a night of Phantom of the Opera, and if you ask, he’ll even settle for something sillier like Cats or Hairspray.
Wanting for nothing. Even if you’re a bit embarrassed to be constantly spoiled, he’ll still do it. Even more, maybe, if you resist.
Museums. He would find the most expensive museum, with the rarest and most highly acclaimed pieces of artwork. He does this only to compare you to the masterpieces, and say the paintings can’t hold a flame to you.
“MC, my angel,” he purrs. “You are the dearest being in creation to me and I love you, but you are taking up the entire bed, I know you are not asleep, and if you do not move in promptly three heartbeats, you’ll have more than stealing the blankets to worry about.”
Being embraced by him in his demon form is heavenly, which perhaps is ironic. There is nothing that can compare to the velvety caress of his wings and the sharp, powerful press of his body against yours.
Shopping dates. The pair of you will find some rundown, crappy little retail place and pick out hideous outfits for each other to try on.
Karaoke. Especially if Mammon had been feeling down. There’s nothing that helps cheer him up as much as seeing you belting out the lyrics to some dumb song, waving to invite him to join you.
You’re both awful in the kitchen, so sometimes you decide to bake a cake together. It ends. Not. Well.
Leaning in to kiss him, but both of you dissolve into fits of giggles and nose-bumping and teeth-clacking.
He leaves his clothes around your room and sometimes steals articles of clothing from you. If you wear his shirts or jackets, he will melt.
Slumber parties without the sleeping. Terraria? Red Dead? Alien? Yes, all of the above. Buckle up, you’re playing games all night. (And all day.)
Complimenting you in Tolkien Elvish and/or Klingon.
He loves the ocean so much, so you’ll inevitably end up on a beach date somewhere (probably a private beach, though). He’ll push you in the water.
You are sleeping on an air mattress. When he finally disconnects from his Discord call, he flops down and the displaced air launches you into the air. This happens. Every. Night.
Couples cosplay and attending comic-cons together.
When he has breakdowns, he comes to you because he trusts you. You will always listen and offer advice or help if that’s what he needs.
Book store dates. Spending hours walking quiet corridors with walls of shelves. Probably make out somewhere in the classics section. Read to each other late into the night.
He’ll buy you flowers. He won’t bring it up, but if you do, he’ll just smile and nod and admit it.
Long, intellectual conversations. Maybe you won’t always be able to keep up with things about magic or Celestial history, but he appreciates you trying.
“I’m going to pretend to be smart to try and impress you, Satan.”
Listening to him rant about Shakespeare.
He teaches you everything you ask about and more - magic, history, language. He’s your own perfect tutor.
Shopping dates. Opposite of Mammon, you’re going to be the stars on the street tonight. There will be no expense spared. Nothing but the best for you, love.
You’ll find post-it notes on every mirror and door that is yours, reminding you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.
Going ice skating. He is incredible at it.
Adding on to the above point, “OH GOD ASMO OH FUCK stop please come back DONT YOU DARE SPIN ME “
Takes you to museums and talks about how some of the renaissance artists were excellent in bed.
Of course you’ll bake together! Beel loves you and he loves food, so what’s wrong with this? Make sure to quadruple the recipe, though...
Tasting every cheap sample provided in the market.
Dressing up as a baker and a loaf of bread for halloween
“Beeeeeel, why are you so tall? Stop it!”
He sometimes randomly brings puppies home? He likes to see you smile, and he’s caught on that you like cute things...
Stargazing. Belphie will let you use him as a pillow, and tell you the stories of the constellations. He talks as though those legends are people he has met.
Belphegor is an artist when he has the energy. For now, he settles for finger painting. If you’ll let him, he’ll paint sunsets and skies and oceans and stars all over your arms.
“If you die, MC, I’ll kill you...”
Napping together all day, every day. If you wake up while he’s still asleep, he’ll be curled around you like a cuddly lion. Try to get away and he’ll tug you closer, hugging you tightly even as he slumbers.
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Pairing: Tokyo boys (Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma, Akaashi Keiji) x f!reader
Warnings: smut, angst, dubcon, substance use (drugs and alcohol), unprotected group sex, oral sex, nipple play, implied character relationships, painal (painful anal), dacryphilia
Word count: 4.1k
A/N: big HUGE MASSIVE thank u to my best gremlin dee @loveosamu and @bakatenshii for betaing this fic for me. i adore you both and i am so grateful for your help with this piece (if you haven’t already please check them out theyre two incredible creators i look up to a whole lot). initially i just wanted to push myself to finish a WIP for valentines day but i had no idea it would end up this long so i am so thankful for these two (angel even helped pick this story as the one to work on) for helping me through it plus the lovely people in the jigoku server who were motivating me every time they saw me sprint <3
One drink brings the slightest blush to pale cheeks, a flush only visible with the utmost closeness foreign to most friends, but not this group.
Another drink brings the buzz, it has you both lax and on fire tingling with the familiar warmth that can only be found in a bottle of booze.
A third drink has you slurring; eyes droop and glaze with intoxication, but there is still a desire for more, a need for more.
And that inevitable fourth drink has you stumbling with a drunken eagerness; it has you carrying yourself off the couch with quivering legs to embark on a precarious journey towards the balcony, towards Kenma and the thick blunt you know he's got between those slender fingers.
Bokuto seems to object to this mission. His bottom lip juts out in a comical pout as he watches your struggle against gravity, and his inebriated brain seems to tell him that if you win this battle and make it to the sliding door you’ll be gone forever.
‘Hey!’ he’s quick to call out, a touch too loudly for Kuroo who is quick to give him an elbow to the ribs. ‘Where’re ya going? C’mere.’ His words only succeed in pulling Akaashi’s attention from his phone, but does nothing to stop your hand from latching onto the sliding door and escaping to the balcony.
Cool air hits you the second you step out, not cold enough to sober you but enough to have you cringing and hopping in a desperate attempt to escape it as the bitterness seems through your socked feet. Still, you remain determined.
You will hit that joint.
Kenma is quick to turn around and in your current state you’re convinced he has a sixth sense for detecting fiends and not that he heard your hopeless clambering as you attempted to open the door.
‘What do you want?’ You can hardly see him in the darkness of the night. The thick plume of smoke that escapes his lips is the only thing that indicates where his face is hidden, and acts of a sharp reminder of what you’re after.
A grabbing gesture is your only response and Kenma is already handing over the spliff, but not without a sigh and a quiet utterance about your hopelessness.
You could care less, however, the homemade smoke feels good between your frozen fingers and feels even better once you bring it to your lips letting it warm you from the inside out.
The warmth brought on weed is much different than that brought on by alcohol; booze ignites you but herb is an extinguisher and has you melting slowly, until an awful dryness in your throat is pulling you from your haze.
‘Fuck--’ The word is choked out and barely telligible by a fit of coughs escaping your unsuspecting lungs, ‘The fuck is in this?’
Kenma isn't given a chance to explain for a new, leery voice interjects, ‘What’s going on—oh lemme hit that,’
Overtaken by drunkenness, Kuroo’s long body clumsily forces its way onto the balcony and next to your still heaving body. He’s quick to mirror your earlier way of requesting your turn, and you're handing it over just as fast, eager to rid yourself of that haphazard spliff.
But with the absence of substance, the coldness returns and you find yourself shivering almost immediately.
‘Ken, ‘m cold,’ golden eyes stare back at you silently asking ‘what do you want me to do about that?’ but unlike you Kenma receives an answer,
‘Let me in,’ and once again he’s giving into you immediately but not without a sigh and uttering that you do have a coat of your own as nimble fingers tug at the zipper of his jacket giving you access to his warmth. However, there’s an unmistakable fondness in his as he watches your frigid form shuffle toward him and into his pocket of heat.
Your frozen arms wrap tightly around him and it takes everything in Kenma to stop himself from pushing your icy body away, but despite the cold, your embrace is welcoming and he feels a sense of comfort he rarely feels whilst being held by you.
Likewise, you find peace in the feeling of his body against yours; he’s grown much softer since quitting volleyball. He’s traded his so-called lean muscle for squish and you can’t say you're upset; he’s much nicer to hug these days (you and Bokuto remind him of this all the time)
A thick haze of smoke spreads over the balcony as Kuroo exhales his latest pull of the blunt. It has your eyes watering and you nuzzling your face against Kenma in an attempt to hide from the sting.
You think Kenma scolds him and you think Kuroo offers an apology, but you can’t say for sure. Words are muffled within the fabric of Kenma’s coat and the rumbling of his chest does nothing to aid your understanding.
A firm ‘you okay?’ from him is coherent however, the feeling of his hand petting the back of your head forces your attention onto his passive face.
Only as you look at him now, there seems to be more than apathy in his lidded eyes, there's an inkling of true care there that grabs your focus and makes your heart flutter. It’s fleeting look in his gaze but the potent mix within your veins has you latching onto that look and once again filled with a desire for more—a need for more
Acting off of a moment's impulse, one quick thought, one single look, you grab hold of Kenma's chin and bring his mouth against your own.
His lips, slightly chapped but sweet, is a feeling both natural and awkward, though, you suppose any kiss between friends would be. Still you embrace it melting into him and not shying away as his tongue slips past your teeth.
‘Oh, what’s this?’ Kuroo’s question is enough to dissolve the self-assuredness you once had and brings on self-consciousness in ten folds. You part, leaving the coziness of Kenma’s kiss and re-entering the bitterness caress of winter.
‘Aw, don’t stop now,’ you can practically hear the smirk in Kuroo’s voice and though it’s dark you're certain that stupidly smug expression is plastered on his face, ‘I liked that. You two are cute you know,’
Booze and weed are a deadly combination, but with Kuroo in the mix it’s absolutely lethal; such a reaction between three volatile elements often is. His sly nature is amplified and vexing others seems to become a need rather than an unfortunate result of his personality. It’s for that reason that your stomach is churning with anxiety as he makes his way toward you.
He stops only inches away from you blocking out Kenma with his massive stature and similarly making you feel small as he leers down at you.
‘Where’s my kiss, hm?’ There's playfulness in his tone but not nearly enough to indicate his words are a joke, and as he leans down to meet your gaze, with dark eyes glazed over with an unmistakable mix of intoxication and desire, all humour leaves you.
You’re left suspended in an amalgam of awe and anxiety as Kuroo seizes the space between you.
Wet, boozy lips connect with your own in a kiss that takes you aback with just how passionate it is. He’s much different from Kenma, unlike him Kuroo kisses with an unabashed confidence that tells the story of years of experience. It’s slow, not quite sweet but there’s something within it that pulls you, something intoxicating that makes your head spin.
There’s a moment in which you wonder about the long line of men and women who experienced this and so much more before you; must’ve been countless within his volleyball days, but did he ever slow down? The thought is fleeting, however, as a gentle nip of Kuroo’s teeth regains your attention.
‘Time to go inside?’ A nod is all you can manage and it earns you a laugh from him, a plume of breath escapes his lips creating an even greater veil between you and Kenma. Strong hands come to rest on your shoulders and guide your pliable body back into the orange glow of the flat,
‘Get back in Kenma!’ You’re not so sure what’s so funny about Kuroo’s exclamation but it has you giggling uncontrollably and relaxing into his sturdy form, oblivious to the sudden sullenness that marrs Kenma's face.
You give your trust to Kuroo and soon enough he’s delivering you to the safety of the couch, sneaking in beside you and placing your weak legs in his lap.
Every part of your body seems to sigh in relief as you lay down and ease into the upholstery, every part except your head that comes down on something much firmer than the anticipated cushioning.
‘Move your leg, Bo,’ you whine punctuating your words with a punch to his hard thigh, but Bokuto doesn't even flinch.
‘Uh, uh, you left me,’ he tuts childishly, ‘didn’t even invite me to smoke either.’ You can hear the pout in his voice and it takes everything in you to withhold a sigh of exasperation. He’s stubborn enough when sober and liqueur alone incites him with the temperament of a child, just the thought of adding weed to the mix makes you shiver.
‘Want me to make it up to you?’ There’s no use in arguing with him when he’s like this. It’s far easier to just give him what he wants and confirms this way his drooping eyes light up at your words.
Brat you think, but a soft ‘C’mere’ is what leaves you as you extend your heavy arms out to him.
The sharp scent of alcohol fills your nose as Bokuto closes the distance between you and in an instant his wet mouth is against your own.
Bokuto’s kiss is sour just like the gin he adores despite the endless flack he receives for it; his lips are clumsy against your own and the amount of tongue he uses is obnoxious, bordering violating .You doubt your sober self would allow him to kiss you like this, certainly not after the treatment you received from Kuroo, but in this state you only reciprocate that same feverish passion
But Bokuto is a greedy bastard and you scold him for it with a bite to his bottom lip as his hands wander and grope at your heaving chest. ‘Only fair,’ he whines against your lips, and once again that same tart scent is infiltrating your senses and dissolving what little resolve you presented him with.
Strongs hands slip under your top and instinctively you arch into the warmth of his palms. A sudden pinch to your nipples has you whimpering against his mouth; the sound only encourages Bokuto to roll the buds between his rough fingertips until they’re hardening under his touch.
The pleasure of Bokuto’s touch is enough to have you distracted, or more accurately, welcoming the feeling of Kuroo’s hands inching up your thighs and delicately massaging the flesh beneath your sweats.
‘Oi, you three,’ it’s Akaashi, his voice hoarse from drinking but not enough to indicate he’s as drunk as the three of you and despite the tightness in his jeans, not drunk enough for what’s unfolding before him, ‘stop—stop that,’
His words carry as much authority and conviction of a substitute teacher trying to quiet a trio of delinquents; they work against him in fact, and only inspire Kuroo to slip his hand past the band of your pants in an act of defiance that’s rewarded with a satisfied squeak from you.
‘Don’t be like that, Keiji,’ he hums, his fingertips tracing slow circles against your clothed clit, ‘you're welcome to join,’ like him, his tone is provocative, affronting, and brash, but just like him there’s something so enticing about the smugness he exudes, so enticing his words have Akaashi rising from the floor.
‘Atta boy,’ a flush that spreads across Akaashi’s face at those words, one that only deepens as Kuroo gives his ass a hard smack, ‘you too, eh Kenma?’
You don’t catch Kenma’s response, as Akaashi approaches, you can practically feel the nervousness radiating off of him; it’s almost nauseating. His slender fingers fumble with the zipper of his jeans and you wish your arms weren't so heavy so you could assist.
Thankfully Bokuto is there to help; his strong hands instinctively work to free Akaashi and his semi from the suffocating denim.
‘Aw, what’s wrong, Kaashi?’ Bokuto teases, ‘you're not usually this shy.’
A soft, ‘quiet’ is all that leaves Akaashi, but the word is weak and has Bokuto and Kuroo chuckling obnoxiously in yet another act of defiance that clearly tells the editor whatever authority he held in the four walls of his office does not exist here.
You can’t say you get the joke, but regardless, you open your mouth to laugh. Only the sound that escapes you is a squeal as Kuroo pushes two thick fingers into your cunt. It’s a pitiful noise that’s cut short and replaced by a gag as Akaashi forces his cock into your mouth.
It’s unnecessary to be so rough, Akaashi knows this of course, but that sound alone was enough to mend his damaged pride that the aggression that comes next is nearly instinctual.
Plush balls and hard hip bones connect with your cheeks and nose as he forces himself further down your throat; there’s no rhythm in his movements, only a ferocity fueled entirely by desire and the tight hug of your throat every time you gasp for breath.
‘Ah that’s it, Kaashi, good boy.’ Bokuto praises. ‘You know how to use her,’
Though not directed to you, Bokuto’s words are enough to have your heart fluttering and as Kuroo curls his fingers inside you, your walls are as well.
‘So fucking wet,’ he mutters, long fingers pumping and scissoring your gushing cunt, ‘such a mess for me, or is this for Keiji hm? You getting off on having your mouth stuffed?’ He’s not expecting an answer however; Kuroo’s an attention seeking bastard— he’s really only asking to stand out amongst the lewd sounds of connecting skin and your gushing cunt.
‘Think she just likes the attention’ Bokuto hums, his massive hands taking a break from teasing your chest to pet your hair, ‘one just isn’t enough for you hm? Greedy little girl.’
The round of laughter that follows is enough to have you whimpering in shameful admittance. Greed is a shameful thing, but god it feels so good to be attended to like this, to feel all eyes on you and all care directed toward you; so good it makes you wonder if the affections of one could ever be enough again, or if it ever was to begin with.
Your intoxicated philosophizing is cut short, however. A sudden burning stretch steals your attention, as Kuroo sinks inside you. His prep is entirely in vain, and the girth of his cock has you whining around Akaashi and tears forming as he bottoms out.
Just the feeling stuffed at both ends is enough to have your head spinning, overwhelmed by so much stimulation. It’s in this moment a sober thought flashes through your mind, one that tells you to stop now and warns that what’s to come will be too much for your poor inebriated body.
But with one sharp roll of Kuroo’s hips your resolve quickly crumbles, and that drunken desire—that need for more—is taking over all reasoning; It’s forcing you to relax and embrace the feeling of two men thrusting into you not in sync, but with dizzying sporadicness.
‘I…fuck, fuck.’ He’s usually so well spoken, curses sound strange falling from Akaashi’s lips, but it’s endearing, just like the little whines that leave him as he comes undone, flooding your mouth with the warmth of his cum.
He pulls away panting, his face red and tongue hanging slightly from his mouth.
Cute, is the first word to come to mind; it even escapes you as Akaashi leans down and closes the distance between you.
His kiss is shy, far too shy for someone who had just made a fleshlight of your throat; his tongue slips into your mouth before retreating and you’re certain it’s because he can still taste himself on your lips. He doesn’t pull away however, calloused hands come to cup your flushed face.
It’s a clumsy form of aftercare, but it’s a welcome one.
Especially with the way Kuroo’s pounding into you; he’s given up setting a steady pace, instead opting to brutalize your cunt with rough thrusts that have you crying out pathetically against Akaashi’s mouth.
‘Slow...slow down,’ your words go unheard of course, they’re swallowed up under Akaashi tongue and you're left to bear Kuroo’s harsh treatment. His sharp pelvic bone collides with your own creating a lewd rhythm of connecting skin that makes your whole body heat with shame, but along with that heat comes the familiar feeling of pleasure spreading in your tummy.
‘Fuck, fuck’ Kuroo breathes and in an instant that feeling is dying and fading into a disappointing anticlimax; not for him, however, his satisfaction shows in the creamy white that drips down your thighs and spills across the upholstery as he pulls out.
He surveys the room; a unmistakable glow appearing in his dark eyes once they find their target, ‘Don’t look at me like that, Ken, I got her ready for you,’ there’s no real sincerity in his voice, just a chuckle and the slightest hint of guilt as tucks himself back into his pants, ‘made her even easier for you,’
The couch shifts beneath you as Kuroo and Kenma switch places, and strong hands are guiding your fucked out body into Kenma’s arms.
There’s a sense of peace you find in the feeling of Kenma’s body against yours; even as you feel the tip of his cock poking at your entrance you’re at ease, welcoming the feeling and melting into the cushion of his chest. He’s much nicer to hug these days, much softer all around, or perhaps this is just with you.
He takes his time as he enters you; slowly, his steady hands guide you along his cock inch by inch. The calloused pad of his thumb comes to swipe away the tears left by Kuroo in a gesture that so solemnly denotes the relationship between the three of you.
‘Are you okay?’ his voice is only loud enough for you to hear and it carries a strange hint of sadness, ‘we can st—’ a slight nod is all it takes to diminish his resolve.
His physique may have withered with time but it seems his strength remains unaffected. Effortlessly, he guides you up and down his length, his fingers maintaining a bruising grip of the flesh of your ass.
Obscenities fall from his lips as he bounces you in his lap; your cunt seems to tighten with each movement and Kenma, in all his inexperience, isn't sure he’ll be able to last much longer. His eyebrows are knit together in pleasure but the slightest bit of frustration as well.
This moment is one he's dreamt of and stroked himself to for years, yet it feels soiled by the fact that he’s fucking another man’s—his best friend’s—cum further into your precious cunt. That alone is enough to make his eyes stinging with bitter tears and send him retreating into the crook of your neck in a pathetic attempt to escape vulnerability.
And to his credit, it seems to work; you’re too lost in your own pleasure to care about anything else. Your lusty substance clouded brain is focused on one thing only and that's chasing the high Kuroo failed to give you. Not the way your limp body jerks with each sharp thrust and certainly not the look of melancholia on his face; that drunken desire for more is what rules you and nothing more.
‘Ken, Kenma, gonna cum,’ you needn’t have told him, he can already tell by the way your walls flutter around him making his own climax inescapable.
‘Go ahead, baby, cum for me, cum for me please—’ you don’t even catch the nickname, if you had you’d probably snap out of daze and perhaps question this sudden fondness, but you don't; instead you allow your body to go tense as you come undone.
Kenma follows suit; a high pitched whine escapes him as cums, stuffing you full and adding to the mess of your insides.
He’s much different than Kuroo; he doesn’t retreat from you, his arms stay wrapped around your quivering form and his lips press chaste kisses to your temple that tell the story of a young man desperately trying to make up for years of unaddressed pining.
But his tale is unfortunately cut short by a boisterous voice that exclaims, ‘I didn't get a turn!’
It’s Bokuto, that same pout laced throughout his words, and of course a drunken determination that tells you there’s dismaying him from getting what he wants, so you save your breath and allow him to press his hard chest against your back.
‘I’ll be quick,’ he says, but you don’t believe him for a second; he sounds far too eager and not the slightest bit truthful. Your ears prick at the obscene sound of him spitting into his hand and the feeling of his slick tip at the rim of your ass has you cowering further into the cushion of Kenma’s body.
Water, greasy foods and cold showers do little to bring a drunkard back to health, but pain? Pain is the ultimate sobering trick and a wicked one at that. The inebrity seems to flee your body and as Bokuto forces his length past the tight ring of your hole and a screaming ache replaces it.
‘So tight,’ he whimpers, ‘fuck I lucked out, I really lucked out,’
His words only serve to mock you; the brutal stretch has you wailing and squirming, but Bokuto’s hold on your hips is strong, keeping you fixed with nowhere to go except further into Kenma’s chest.
‘Aw you can take it baby,’ Kuroo cooes from across the room, however, his voice isn’t encouraging, rather it's laced with condescension and urging you to give in, the nickname only adding to this, ‘don't let that bastard get the best of you.’
That’s easier said than done, however. Though Bokuto moans and pants obscenely in your ear, there’s little pleasure in this for you, only the steady rubbing of his cock against your ribbed walls and slapping of his heavy balls against the flesh of your ass.
The sound of Kenma whispering your name is enough to draw your attention, momentarily stealing you from your painful days and forcing you meet his gaze with teary eyes, ‘kiss me,’ it’s not much of a demand but more of a shy request, but still you oblige bringing your mouth against his.
Your lips seem to melt together in a kiss far more natural than the first you shared; this time you welcome the feeling without fear, allowing his wet tongue to glide against your own. Kenma doesn't take away the pain but his sweet touch is enough to distract; likewise your cries are swallowed up saving you from the shame of hearing yourself let out such saccharine whines over something so violating.
However, a sudden whiny, ‘fuck,’ from Bokuto among the sounds of connecting skin tells you your exploitation is nearly through. His rough thrusts lose their edge and devolve into sloppy movements that jerk your limp form ‘round.
He cums with a satisfied grunt, and just like Kuroo, he's pulling out and escaping to the bathroom leaving your fucked out form in the cold with nothing but Kenma to keep you warm.
In this state, you don't even seem to fully take in the coldness you’ve been treated with, nor the frustration so clearly written on your friend’s face or the glossiness of his golden eyes. You merely stare up at him with dreamy, lidded eyes: a look that tells Kenma that not only are you unheeding but uncaring as well; a look that breaks him.
There’s so much he could say to you right now, so much he should say, but not a word leaves him. He feels too much: too feeble too dejected, too small to even open his quivering mouth to speak, so he retreats back into apathy in a pathetic attempt to spare his own feelings because in truth he knows you well enough know there isn’t a single thing he could say that could change the way you think.
This is who you are; this is your nature.You're a free use lover, but for tonight, at least, he gets to sleep by your side breathing in your scent with lavender lungs.
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Bela x Maiden ----Songbird Ch. 13 (END)
Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10 Ch.11 Ch.12
You never thought you'd be back in your hometown in this life. You had accepted that seeing your family again is something you could have only in dreams.
And yet, here you are.
In your bedroom, with your favorite bands' posters on the wall, your guitar and your slim television, on your strawberry-scented bed and hugging your lover close.
Bela, in her typical all-black, looks so out of place among the colors surrounding you it's almost comical, but you are too relaxed to tease her about it now.
Your parents were skeptical about her, at first, yet her manners won them over within the first day. Your sister thought she was cool –too cool for you, actually, the little shit— since second one.
And if her personality wasn't reason enough to like her, the gold she gave them as both a gift and an apology for taking you away certainly sweetened the deal. It was enough for your father to hire workers for your fields, repair several parts of the house and guarantee full meals every day for the years to come.
Bela and you agreed to keep certain parts to yourselves, like the fact she survives on raw flesh and blood and that she hails from the village to the north, where people are known to be borderline insane.
What your parents don't know can't hurt them.
You've been teaching your girlfriend about technology in the meantime, showing her your world like she did for you in her own.
And yet, happy as you are with life the way it is right now... you know your Bela is not made for it.
You've seen her gaze longingly at the direction of the forest. You recognize the melancholy in her gaze when something reminds her of the castle and her mother. She refused to address those issues, at first...
But you can't watch them eat her up every day.
“Love.” you tell her, supporting yourself on your elbow next to her.
“Hm?” Bela's golden eyes turn to you. God, the way she looks at you makes you melt.
“I just need to say, I'll never be able to thank you enough for what you did for me. You fought for my safety and cared for my family.”
“Don't thank me, beautiful.”
“And I'm very happy, happier than I ever dared picture myself, with how things are.” you begin. “But I want you to be the same way. And it is naive and selfish of me to think that's going to happen here.”
A small frown settles over her features. “I am happy with you, Rhiannon.”
“You're happy with me, yes, but this life isn't for you, darling. We both know it. You're like a lion that's being kept in a cage and fed well. It can survive, sure, but that's not how it's supposed to be.” you tell her.
You understand her nature isn't the same as yours. You understand her need to hunt and run wild at times and be with others like her. Loving her means embracing those things that she needs, even when she tries to convince herself she doesn't.
Bela opens her mouth to argue.
“And going hunting with me isn't the same as going with your sisters. Don't even try to tell me that.” you say.
She huffs. “I miss the way things were. But I'm not sure we can go back to that.”
“If you don't try, you'll never be sure.” you argue. “Remember when I was too afraid to talk to my parents and you convinced me it was the right thing to do? Now it's my turn to tell you the very same.”
“The only difference being, your parents didn't lie to you all your life.” Bela's voice goes hard and raw. She's angry and she's hurting. But if she doesn't treat the wound it will simply be left there to fester.
“Look. Your mother has always made my knees shake in cold terror. I am the last person who would advocate for her, but, no matter what she's done, she is still your mother. And even a blind woman would see how much she loves you three.” you explain.
Bela is silent.
“You owe it to yourself, too, to go back and talk to her. Listen to what she has to say and if you don't think you can forgive her, we'll leave again.” That's a promise.
“...I'll think about it.” that is the most she can bring herself to say, right now.
You nod and bring your head back down on her shoulder. It's alright, you think. She'll be alright.
And you'll be here when she's ready.
Another week passes, uneventful.
You're inside your warm room, watching a movie with Bela, when your lover suddenly goes rigid beside you. She snaps her head to the side, listening in for something...
The next moment she rises and walks over to your window, pulling the curtains aside. You approach from behind, curious as to what drew her attention.
To your surprise, Daniela is standing in your yard, hugging her arms to shield herself from night's chill. Much to Bela's displeasure, you open the window.
“Hi. Can I come up? It's very cold out here.” she asks, all batting eyelashes and pretty eyes.
“No. Go away.” Bela throws her a glare and retreats to the armchair you previously shared.
Still, some part of you cracks at the image of the redhead lowering her head and pulling her cloak tighter around her. Despite how she chased you, ready to shove her sickle through your neck... she's still your girlfriend's sister. Who looks like a kicked, sad puppy right now, an image you can't bear.
“Come up, Daniela.” you only have to whisper the words.
The redhead perks up immediately, the next moment perched on your windowsill like a cat.
“Oh, wow. “ she breathes as you step aside to let her in. “Cute room.”
“What do you want.” Bela's voice cuts through the air like an arrow.
“So, um. I came here to see you. And... maybe... ask you to come back home with me?” Daniela tries. Bela rolls her eyes. “Please. Mother is so sad. And the castle feels empty and too quiet without you and Cassandra there.”
“I'll come back when I decide to and if. Now, I assume you know the way out.”
Ouch. You wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that tone. Daniela once again lowers her head... but instead of turning to leave she turns to you. With the way she looks now, you hate that all you want to do is give her a hug.
“Sorry for your shoulder. And... everything.” She touches your forearm as she says it, but Bela is there the next second, barely keeping herself from lunging.
“Don't. Touch. Her.”
“Okay, okay.” Daniela raises her hands up, ducking back outside the window as if held at gunpoint. “...Bela.”
“...I miss you.” And then she's gone, taking a drop that would have killed any normal person.
Bela's fingers grip hard at her arms as she crosses them. She locks gazes with you and you know what she plans to say before she does.
“Will you go back with me tomorrow?”
At the castle gates, you come across a sight you won't soon forget; Alexia is trying to shove Cassandra inside, who keeps her arms on the door, refusing to budge.
“We agreed on this, Cassandra! You gotta go inside and talk to your mother!” the former says through gritted teeth.
“I didn't agree to anything, you just took my silence as a yes!”
Bela blinks beside you, watching the scene with quiet amusement. One shared look between you and you both agree something ought to even the odds between the arguing pair.
The blonde simply walks forward... and pushes Cassandra inside.
“Thank you!” Alexia breathes.
“Bela, you traitor.” The brunette accuses. “Coming up from behind is all you can do after you got your ass handed to you last time, huh?”
“You mean last time, when I won?”
“In your dreams, maybe.”
“I pinned you down like this.” Bela slaps her hands together like squishing a fly between them.
“Oh, you wanna go again?”
Alexia and you prepare to leap forward to catch your lovers before they start clawing at each other again, but Daniela descends the staircase, running, her elated cry dissolving the tension.
“Sisters!” she jumps into them, arms around each of their shoulders.
The fact they could easily shove her away but don't is a good sign, in your eyes. You hang back and watch the three of them swarm off together, towards the upper parts of the castle.
“Let's go for a walk.” Alexia tells you. “This will take a while.”
You give them all the time they need.
During your walk, Alexia speaks of the village and all the changes made to it in the short time she hasn't visited. You share details about your own town in return.
Then, she tells you the story of how she got with Cassandra. They may not look the part, but you come to understand these two have much more in common than meets the eye.
“If she hasn't stormed off by now, that means things are going well.” she states, as soon as you return. “Or as well as can be expected.”
It turns out, she knows Cassandra too well. When your girls make their way back to you, they look significantly lighter than before.
Bela takes your hand and leads you to her bedroom. She sits next to you on her mattress, your hand in hers and explains what was said during the dreaded talk with her mother. Alcina opened up about everything to them, from the smallest details of her own past, to theirs.
“It will take time. To fully forgive her, to trust her again. Things may never be as they once were... “
“And that's not necessarily a bad thing.” you finish for her.
“No.” She gives a little smile. “It's not.” A brief pause. “You were right, you know? About coming back. I needed to hear my mother say all those things.”
“Of course. You'll see that when the dust settles, the love you have for each other will be there, stronger than ever, because that's how being a family works.” you assure. “... and you can hopefully use that fact to make sure Alcina doesn't murder me for corrupting her eldest daughter.”
Bela gives a deep laugh, the kind you love, the rare kind that makes her whole face light up.
She slyly guides you back on her bed and climbs on top of you, eyes glowing with mischief in the shadows cast by her rich hair.
“I'll think about doing that...” she draws a nail gently down the column of your throat, making you shiver. “...if you're good.”
“Oh, I can be very good.” you husk back. “However can I prove it to you, my Lady?”
Bela offers you a wicked little smirk, fangs teasing the sensitive skin of your neck as she draws closer. “You know I like them perfectly still, Rhiannon.”
You spend the rest of the night like that, underneath her, perfectly content and perfectly willing. It's so ironic, how fate works, that the castle you thought to be your end is now a brand new beginning.
And there's nowhere else you'd rather be in the world than with her.
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★ cruel to be kind | l.c
▰ genre: childhood friends / bffs / idiots to lovers + fluff and a little jealousy also mingyu gets picked on a bunch and there’s a tiny makeout scene
▰ word count: 3.4k
▰ synopsis / request :
▰ a/n: couldn’t choose a title so i went with a song title hehe but there’s not much of a connection. i hope u don’t hate this ;A;
"For the last time, I don't want you going out with us guys tonight," Chan hollered from the kitchen in reply to a loud conversation that you two were now in the middle of.
You were in the process of doing your half of the chores since he had apparently already did his, despite the fact that he seemingly had never had time to before now. Dropping the basket of towels with a clash, you made your way to the doorframe to watch him with a glare.
"Every time we take you with us, it turns into a crap fest," he declared.
However, leave it to Mingyu to pass by and save the day, in the most minor way, reprimanding his younger friend softly with another basket of clothes in his burly embrace. He even appareled the frilly pastel apron that was originally yours from when you were ten years old, so it appeared five times smaller than him.
"Channie, you know that's hurtful talk. Do you really mean to hurt their feelings in that way?" It appeared that your tall friend was in a particularly stable mood.
"Yes! Thank you, Mingyu!" You whined out before returning your voice and mind to the situation at hand. Chan merely rolled his eyes. The television blared out from another room as the latter had a habit of being careless about his belongings and chores.
It almost made me no sense as to why you remained his roommate, better yet, why you even stayed with him, but being by his side was the only constant thing in your life.
If you thought hard about it, and you mean really thought hard about it, the conclusion of sticking with him is only because you’re best friends, but you’re quite close to the point you wouldn’t even point out that you were technically best friends.
There were more cons than pros to living with someone so unabashedly obnoxious and irrational, but funnily enough, that was your best friend.
Yet, there was also a brewing pressure that seemed to add tons to the tension between you, one that fueled more and more petty arguments lately, despite the norms of bickering and teasing each other. You shouldn’t argue though; like one nameless acquaintance told you, he was doing his thing, and you were doing yours.
“I’ve spent the entire week away from you,” he muttered, crossing his arms irritatedly but without the snap of venom. “I’d like to think that I’d be able to keep up this pattern.”
“Meaning what?” You mirrored his body language, all while Mingyu continued to cross back and forth between the two of you.
“Meaning,” he began, imitating your exact tone. “I’d like to get laid if slash when we go out — ” you yelped out in disgust at his comment. “ — and when we do stay in, I honestly feel like I have to babysit you or something.”
“First of all, ew, and second of all, I’m not sure why you feel like that, since I can clearly take care of myself especially with the guys. Nothing crazy ever happens, and I don’t mean to speak for them, but I can be pretty cool.”
“Yeah, pretty lame, you mean. Well actually, you’re just dumb.”
You were ready to pop a vein, had it not been for Mingyu calmly intervening with a readied basket of all the folded blankets in the apartment. With the comically subconscious stance of a pregnant mom, he even stepped in between you, placing his fists on his hips.
“Already talked to the others, and it was already a given that you were coming, so Chan and Y/N, cheer up, okay?”
With that, you couldn’t help but flash Mingyu one of your brightest smiles, because finally, someone who doesn’t bully you constantly. He snickered lightly and even gave you a high five, ignoring Chan’s bewildered blubbering.
On the surface of your minor victory, a minute part of you winced at his words. Was he that inclined to finally depart from you?
The night with the guys unfolded as it would: a hang out with an unbelievable amount of food. However, tonight would be different, considering all the money all thirteen men pooled in together, along with some of your own, to rent out a grand split leveled beach house of sorts.
Things were going as they typically would; Soonyoung drinking the night away, begging you to dance to the unmusical cooking sounds, which you would seemingly turn down until Joshua would ask you personally. You had a hard time turning down him for some reason, and they all seemingly knew — all for him to pass you on to Seungkwan, who chatted you up for hours on end, at times.
Seungcheol would tell you ‘great job’ for going outside of your comfort zone when you’d mention your school activities, and you’d be whisked away from most of the other guys because they just loved to hog you.
The night shifted when a few board games were whipped out, in an effort to keep a few members from losing their cool (their cool being not upchucking and getting gross) from the alcohol. Taking advantage of what grand space the beach house offered, the group was split between the largest room with an open area and the other end of the veranda forming a small living room: you and a few of the other guys watching a movie.
“Are you sure you’re comfortable right there, Y/N?” Joshua called from above you, prompting you to gaze up at him from where you sat. With the main sofas and seats occupied, you had opted for a comforter and a seat on the rug. “I still feel bad for making you sit on the floor. We’d be more than happy to trade spots. Right, guys?”
A smile curled upon your mouth to tamper down any possible doubts of his or the guys around you, nodding and leaning into the big, warm body beside you.
“I promise I’m comfy here,” you reassured, chuckle making its way out of your throat. “Mingyu’s here, too. Isn’t anyone wanting to ask to trade spots with him?”
“Hell no!” Seungkwan called out, speaking for everyone there.
As Mingyu pouted on and the laughter at his expense died down to view the movie, you wrapped your arms around one of his to soothe the teasing, and he leaned his head over yours. Unbeknownst to you, Chan’s jaw began to grow sore from how hard he was gritting his teeth, trying to peel his eyes away from you and Mingyu. The madness was beginning to boil, past simmering at this point.
Only reminded by Joshua, you remembered about the snacks you’d purposely bought for tonight, long abandoned in the kitchen where the board game took place.
“Chan! Could you pass the snacks over here please? Left them on the counter.” You hollered narrowly, catching Chan’s eyes revert from you to the game then back to you. He seemed upset, although it clicked in your mind it must be because of the game.
He’s always been a sore loser.
Chan let out a scoff, not meeting your eyes as he spoke begrudgingly, “Get it yourself.”
Some of the others in both rooms caught that, eyebrows furrowing at how unkind the youngest was being to his best friend. However, you decided to hold off on the second attempt to plead, in understanding as he could be quite snide and obnoxious at times. Shrugging Mingyu off gently, you made your way past and from Chan, taking at least half of the snacks you had bought. Seungcheol wonky blinked questionably at how Chan ignored you.
“I’m taking some of these snacks over to the movie area, but you guys can help yourselves to them as well.” You announced politely to the board game party.
“Wow, Y/N, very kind of you to go through the trouble of buying all our favorite snacks by yourself because this…is a lot.” Minghao commented and you grinned, murmuring a shy thanks.
“Actually, Mingyu and I stopped by a few stores before coming here, so you should thank him, too.”
From the living room, Wonwoo’s eyes widened by a fraction at how he caught Chan rolling his eyes and recklessly throwing a few game pieces when he moved his piece. Actions, gestures, and words passing through the air. All while you merely spoke, all while Mingyu simply would nod along with what you’d say, words revolving around your escapades, Chan turned away from you, lips permanently pursed, jaw clenched, and his knuckles paled and paled against his grip.
Once the conversation died down, everyone assumed their roles again, Chan continuing to huff and puff each time he would mistakably sneak a glance to your direction.
Midnight soon became of the night. The film ended on a positive note, but you couldn’t help but become a bit concerned as to why your best friend seemed so bothered. Clearly, whatever it was would not cease to persist, and he only brushed you off when you would even try to step in his direction.
You conversed with Vernon as the credits came to a close, and a few of the others that had been playing a board game were beginning to succumb to the night. Jeonghan and Wonwoo had moved to chatter with a few of the other elders, speaking in hushed tones that would be broken by wry chuckles and giggles. It all fueled the cognitive dissonance that pushed you closer to want to sleep.
The lights in the beach house dimmed as more and more scattered, but the elders remained speaking while Chan had finally finished disposing of all the trash with a heavy hand.
You supposed you would try to give him his much needed space, considering he still appareled furrowed eyebrows, and to bring it up later.
This plan of yours was short lived as Jeonghan appeared seamlessly out of nowhere with a hand on Chan’s neck, pushing the two of you towards the stairs.
“Okay, kids,” he crooned while your best friend kept his face straight.
“Where did you come from?” Your question was gently waved off.
“It’s bedtime, for now. I think you kids have done enough. I’ll make the rest take after your duties. Go on and good night, okay?”
Jeonghan left no room for arguments as he immediately turned on his heel once your foot was on one of the steps towards the rooms. Chan sighed loudly, making eye contact for once. You hadn’t been able to see his eyes all night, and despite it all, in the binds of disaster, one look from them could offer heaps and heaps of reassurance.
You’ve missed him.
After all, you had spent the entire week with Mingyu, considering Chan started staying over at one of his dance classmates’. Well, it didn’t start out that way. The two of you typically spent much of your time together, but due to his incoherent dance class intervals, he started coming home later and later, and well, Mingyu filled in the spot seamlessly.
He let you join in on the cooking, commending you on your help and how well the food tasted, which Chan initially could only ever reheat. Mingyu would even take you along with the grocery shopping, genuinely talking your ear off with questions that meant the world to you because he showed that he was interested in what you said and in you, though that could never possibly be the case for any other person. (You sometimes have that middle school angst of thinking you’ll never be loved, even at your grand age, but you could never bring it up to Chan, or anyone of the sort really.)
Watching a new show together would overlap with cuddling, with Mingyu actually wanting to and not even arguing, moreso gleefully asking to. You’d fall asleep with your head on his shoulder and your legs in his wide lap. Chan practically seethed when he’d return each time at the sight, pushing him to sleep elsewhere, away from you and his replacement.
But, you’d never see his side, or at least he’d never let you.
Passing a few rooms and making a right on a corner, Mingyu was also in the midst of following the same idea you were doing, just in reverse.
Face damp after presumably washing his face, your tall roommate grinned at the two of you before using both hands to ruffle each hair of the both of you.
“Sweet dreams, you guys,” he murmured, but his face falling as his chance to say whatever he was going to say next vanished. The action itself wasn’t completely foreign to you, but what had prompted it was; Chan took your hand in his, steering you to the bedroom, trudging and your own footsteps struggled to catch up. His back faced the closed door now.
“Hey, Chan, wasn’t that a little rude? You didn’t even say good night to him. He’s probably going to cry or something.”
“Oh, relax,” he spoke mockingly but without much fire, hands still locked together as he closed the door behind himself. “He’s got Minghao and Soonyoung.”
“Alright, well, then, what’s the hurry?” You gave his fingers a squeeze, before slowly releasing your hand from his. The lights hadn’t been turned on yet, leaving the two of you in the dark.
“I just wanna get to bed,” it was your turn to scoff, crossing your arms. Only the window brought forth some light, and at most, the moonlight painted your silhouettes.
“You know,” you began, a little wobbly, and usually, he’d tease you about the way you talked, stuttered, and said certain things; for now, he remained silent. “You confuse me. I think you want me gone, then you get mean — meaner than how you just are to me, how you’ve always been, even since we were kids. Then, you try to steal me all to yourself, but you push me away. Chan, what do you want?”
His furrowed brows cast a shadow over his eyes, blanketing them further in nebulous shade.
“I miss you,” your voice was textured with exaggerated fatigue, but despite your effort to keep the air between you two light, your words betrayed the facade you have fought to keep on for so long. “If it’s becoming exhausting to be my best friend, then you can move on. I’m more than okay if you want to move out or if you want me to leave. It doesn’t matter if we’re friends or if it means the end of it because I’ll always think of you happily. I feel bad sometimes because I feel that you feel that I — “
“Just shut up,” Chan muttered before striding over to you, fast paced, taking your face in his hands, in one fluid movement, leaving you speechless with whatever you were ready to say with a kiss.
Now, you’ve experienced a few kisses at most in your life, even having had the phase where you binged romance movies to swoon at some characters actively meeting mouth to mouth.
So, when Chan’s lips dove in for yours, exchanging open mouthed kisses, thumbs pressing gently into your face, you were legitimately dumbfounded. All words eluded you. Your hands themselves were unable to react, hovering by his sides but unmoving. Your eyes skimmed over what you could see, and you were further shocked at his taut jaw, drawn eyebrows – a face that you’ve only seen when he performed with his dance group at a prestigious contest, when he got his first tattoo of his grandmother’s calligraphy, when he joined you on the plane, leaving his family and home to accompany you for college, so the two of you would remain together as you take on the world.
You took his shirt into your fists and attempted to release for a breath, but his mouth chased after yours with a gasp. He lowered the fervor ever so slightly before breaking away with a singular kiss, exhaling while you panted. Chan met your eyes, and not for the first time that night, you wished for him to be forward rather than hide his true intentions behind a few gestures and actions.
The heat then began to consume you from the inside out. Your best friend just kissed you the same way a twentieth century miner would greet his wife after a long day at work.
“You don’t have to make an excuse if you want to go, Y/N. I’m sorry for…uh, that, but I just wanted to do it, just once,” he wistfully spoke, looking into your eyes before dropping his gaze. “Even if you know my true feelings.”
Your eyes about bulged out of your head, jaw dropping and wordlessly mouthing your reaction to what he was saying.
“Chan!” With a grip to his shoulders, you shook him to meet your eyes. “What are you talking about?! Are you saying you like me?!”
Your heart lurched and hammered in your chest in the same pattern that it had been for a while now, but you’d paid no heed. Even if you possibly (but definitely, said the subconscious part of you that you weren’t even aware of) liked him, it was simply a fact that Chan liked anyone else but you because you were best friends; for, the culture of boys constantly circulated around hookups, chaste relationships that lacked meaning, and the like.
It was his turn to freak out, forehead wrinkling and eye size growing.
“You mean… you don’t know?”
The thermostat had to be at 85 degrees Fahrenheit. You shook your head softly, waving your hands.
“This is the first time I’m hearing this, Chan,” you practically saw stars. “If you truly do like me like me.”
Chan nearly lost every bit of sanity he had ever had.
“Jeonghan hyung!” He cried, voice thick with frustration and incredulity. The floor beneath you rumbled with the grouped laughter of everyone else in the building; it was then that you both realized that everyone was in on the situation when you both weren’t even aware of the other’s feelings.
Heat radiated off your body in waves.
“Y/N,” His brought you back down to Earth, past the amused clutches of your idiotic friends that belonged in the clouds. You were enraptured by his gaze, a look you’d only ever seen in movies, pointed to you. “I really, really like you. I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad friend.”
You simply drew your arms around him to pull him in a hug, his head pressing against yours. Just the same way you both would do when things became too much for one to handle on their own.
“No, Chan, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to realize.” You mumbled and he chuckled heartily at that.
“I told you you were clueless,” he said, to which you punched him in the side, eliciting a small wince due to your lack of effort.
“I like you, too, Chan. I’ve missed you lately.”
Your absence in his life for the past few weeks had served his own diluted Hell. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence when you shuffled over to the bed hand in hand.
“So, what’s going to happen?” You questioned, moving to lay on your side and look at him.
“Well, we’re going to get Jeonghan hyung’s ass, that’s for sure,” this made the two of you laugh before groaning at the reality that he’d sped up and somehow spoiled a long-burning confession despite his gestures being borne out of a good place. “But, nothing much. We’re going to be friends just like always, but we’ll be more than that.”
He looked to you for acknowledgment, every word reassured with your nod. Chan intertwined your fingers, cheeks and ears flush, completely visible even in this moonlight.
“And I’m going to steal you from Mingyu, but that’s besides the point.” He muttered too quickly, but you caught that, using your other hand to swat at him. This incited some lighthearted bickering, stemming from the way you all but missed the fact that his jealousy and unsureness was the reason he behaved the way he did. Oh, why did you have to be so oblivious.
But, it mattered not — because to everyone in the building, excluding the clueless you and Mingyu, it was an immovable fact that Chan, your very best friend, loved you.
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UHH KUROO SEEING YOU AT THE AIRPORT AGAIN AFTER YALL HAVENT SEEN EACH OTHER FOR 2 YEARS
characters: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader
summary: kuroo got sent off on a business project that lasted two years, and today he’s finally coming back home.
eris’ notes: this is so adorable oh my god
you knew there’d be times where your boyfriend’s job would call him away for weeks, maybe months, at a time. with his line of work it was simply to be expected. but what you hadn’t expected was him to get a once in a lifetime offer for a company project that was too good to pass up—which would last two years.
you were happy for him, of course! this was his dream and you would support him no matter what. besides, two years isn’t even that long, right?
wrong. god, you were so so wrong.
facetime dinner dates and phone calls at ungodly hours of the night did well to sate you both at first, but about seven months in you just wanted to cry every time you saw your boyfriend through the screen. you wanted to hold him, hug him, kiss him, ruffle his hair just to piss him off that you messed it up. but you couldn’t, and it was torture.
you can hardly think about that now, though, because today is the day you’ve been waiting for for the past two years. kuroo is coming home. and you’re standing here, thirty minutes earlier than he told you his plane was going to land, holding a quickly made sign in the middle of the airport.
listening to the landings feels like a loop, your heart leaping at each announcement that runs through the overcrowded port. looking around you watch as others leave—jumping into the arms of loved ones, walking out alone, running up to their kids. you’re so lost in it that you barely even register what the intercom says this time.
but what you don’t miss is the glimpse of swished up black hair bobbing above the crowd. tetsuro didn’t even know you were planning to pick him up, he told you he would meet you at home, but of course you couldn’t let that happen. which means you register the exact moment his eyes catch yours and you’re sure your heart has never felt so full.
now kuroo is normally all about being polite, but he seems to forget all of his mannerisms as he pushes past people and runs straight for you, carryon bag flopping around comically on his shoulder.
romcoms are something you and tetsuro have always laughed at, made fun of how corny and unrealistic the scenes all are. but as kuroo breaks free from the crowd and reaches you, he cups your face and slams his lips onto yours in a way that can only be described like a corny rom com.
you hold your sign with one hand and loop the other arm around his neck, laughing as he pulls away to place kisses all over your face and jaw.
“ugh kitten, i’ve missed you,” he grins, and it looks so much better than it did through your phone screen.
“i’ve missed you more,” you reply, pecking his lips once again before wrapping your arms around him for a hug. “way, way more. you’re never going away again.”
his laugh rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your smushed cheek. lips press against the crown of your head, and then a chin hooks over it as kuroo returns the embrace.
“never again,” he mumbles. and finally, finally you have your home back.
all works belong to woahsamu ; do not plagiarize, translate, or post to other sites.
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Turns, twists, and paradoxes
I'm happy to announce the official beginning of X-tra Dark Cream. The story follows Dark Cream comic by wonderful @zu-is-here, the timeline changes only at the very ending (or does it?), so if you somehow missed it, do take your time and read it first. That also makes my other series relevant to this one.
Also there was a teaser some time ago, go check it out if you're interested!
That being said, enjoy!
“You’re still such a crybaby...”
Indeed, Dream thinks. That is true. But that’s alright, because...
“I got you.”
Yeah. That’s why, Dream concludes, squeezing his only good eye socket shut. That is exactly why. After all, he feels the safest in his big brother’s loving arms. Their place is by each other’s side. But...
It’s only Nightmare’s illusion that falls, while the curse stays strong, unalterable perhaps, killing Dream slowly but surely; at this moment he feels especially vividly how the negativity so concentrated it gets physical embodiment as viscous dark liquid envelops his broken body, every relatively intact bone and every bone chip, big or tiny, — his whole being, progressively getting hold of the soul as well, one the guardian was never supposed to have in the first place.
Aghast, Dream acts without thinking, blindly following his heart, and desperately hugs his brother tighter, seeking warmth, solace... love. When Nightmare returns the embrace, Dream can’t help a sigh, half relieved, half surprised at such trust. It makes him feel in a very certain way like something is growing inside of him until it blooms, and it then grows even more, overwhelming him. That feeling, Dream easily realises, is grim determination to live up to Nightmare’s trust, and never betray it at any cost, and only make it stronger.
The brothers are all too focused on their newfound (perhaps, well forgotten old?..) closeness they both need so much, and utterly stunned by such an unexpected outcome, for the curse within one remains, yet both are alive, and neither is going to kill the other. How can it be?
They don’t hear the hurried steps or the knives clanking. The sharp wave of negativity is what’s impossible to miss or ignore. As the twins’ attention snaps back to the world around them, Cross’ hard voice suddenly rings out all too close, so much closer than it’s supposed to be. “Don’t you dare,” he says, and there’s a warning and a threat in his words.
Dream opens his eye socket and lets Nightmare go, regardless of how much he wants to stay like this, if only a little longer. What he sees is Cross’ back right in front of them, barely two steps away. His huge knife is nowhere to be seen, but fortunately, Killer seems unarmed as well. How long are they standing like that? Has Killer put his weapon away willingly, or has Cross managed to disarm him in a fight? Dream looks around yet doesn’t see the glint of metal anywhere. Apparently, this one was resolved without violence. Something tells him that’s a good sign.
Oh, stars. What is he even thinking about?
But if his thoughts weren’t focused on all those unimportant little things, the only one left would keep banging in his head, This can’t be happening. It is impossible. Impossible. Impossible. This thought is almost as heavy and viscous as the negativity covering Dream’s body, and it hurts just as much, and fear has its cold claws deep in his soul, and everything is just too much. Unbearable. Dream wants to scream and cannot make a sound. Only breathe. Only watch as Killer and Cross stand in front of each other, both tense and not intending to give up.
Nothing happens, but that doesn’t last long. Nightmare’s the one to take a step forward. “Killer. That’s enough,” he says.
Brother’s firm voice finally helps Dream return to reality. Panic goes away, and old yet bright memories take its place. A long time ago, Nightmare used a somewhat similar tone to soothe Dream when thunderstorms came, so confident and proud, but never unreachable. On the contrary, so close and familiar. Loving. So much time has passed, so many challenges and hardship and pain, yet some things stay the same. Dream sees and feels that so vividly, only for a moment, but that is suddenly enough to give him the strength to wipe the tears. Which makes it easier to see the trembling of Nightmare’s hands, although hidden subtly behind his back. Dream just knows better, notices how his brother holds himself tight, as if his life depended on it. He’s scared, too. The realisation lifts part of the weight off Dream’s shoulders. There are no more tears. Nothing to wipe.
Killer chooses this very same moment to raise his arms at a deliberately slow pace and make a few steps forward, stopping right beside Cross, who turns around to face the twins. Only now Dream can see how unnaturally calm his face is. He’s closed himself off and put on a mask. Not that it helps much, for Dream feels Cross’ bewilderment and dread as clearly as his own, feels how they dangerously verge on despair. But every second Cross is all too aware that shattered hopes and dreams would make the curse stronger and weaken Dream, and that hyper-awareness must be the only thing keeping him together.
Well, to be fair, he’s also overfilled with determination. That extraordinary force would never let his soul drown in despair, even if hope vanished without a trace.
Dream truly is so, so lucky.
He’s fallen into the stream of chaotic thoughts and emotions not only his own but also the others’, and thus, when Nightmare starts talking once again, Dream doesn’t realise it right away. This time it’s Cross’ attentive gaze that breaks him out of trance, worried and nonetheless warm. Yes, despite everything, the warmth is still there.
They nod to each other almost simultaneously, trying to do it subtly, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter if Nightmare or Killer notice their quiet exchange. Right now, it’s nowhere near the top of their priorities.
“...So I’ve no idea.”
The words don’t make sense at first, yet Dream feels the urge to follow Nightmare’s voice, to lean closer in a desperate, futile attempt to fill the void inside. He... He missed his big brother so much. And at the moment, Nightmare somehow looks just like his old self. Even better, for he’s become grown-up... and so very strong.
They both have.
The thought concludes everything, letting Dream focus on the conversation. Nightmare’s words are obviously an answer, not just a statement. Cross was silent, Dream would have captured the sound of his voice otherwise, no matter how deep in thought he was lost. That leaves Killer. What could he have asked? What do they do next? Then again, it’s not like there are any more important questions at hand. Only those that can wait.
Cross makes the last step forward, standing now right beside Dream, so strong and devoted, always ready to be relied on; Nightmare, in turn, steps away, although not toward Killer, who intently watches their every movement while barely moving, himself. All of this seems too much like a weird improvised dance full of awkwardness and tension, and that almost makes Dream laugh. Cough is the only sound he’s able to make. Cross gives him a worried look, so Dream shakes his head wordlessly. Everything’s alright, as much as possible in the utter chaos of their messed up lives.
“How are you feeling?” Nightmare asks. His voice is even and his expression is calm, yet Dream is certain his brother’s hands are still shaking, although hidden well behind his back.
He doesn’t get the chance to answer. Killer jumps in, “How do we know when we wouldn’t be able to trust him anymore?”
Nightmare’s gaze becomes remorseful, he furrows his brows, and even his single eye-light seems darker. He answers, weighing each and every word, “I was in Dream’s position almost all my life. I reckon, if anybody can see that line, it must be me.”
Dream’s fists clench. His brother has become so much better at pretending he’s perfectly alright and has everything under control, good enough that even Dream almost falls for that.
Almost, though. Dream is rather certain he knows better even after all those years apart. Years they spent fighting for Dream’s life — one brother tried to end it and another did all he could to keep it, — and yet the true Nightmare was still somewhere in there, deep-deep inside. Fighting for his own life, apparently, since the negativity hadn’t devastated him completely. Hadn’t ruined him either, it seems, at least not in the ways that would truly make a difference. Still, who knows how much damage is irreversible...
Nightmare is strong. So very strong. Dream wants to be proud of him, so much it hurts, only positive emotions harm him as well. Nowhere to run from this pain, no magical switch to turn it off, nothing to soothe it. Whatever he chooses, the consequences are the same. Dream tells about exactly that, as honestly as he can, “Positivity makes me weaker. It hurts.” After all, untruthfulness cannot do any good, and they need all the good they can get. It’s past time they learn that lesson. Start grasping the idea.
Nightmare frowns in response, and his grim expression makes Dream think. Was brother suffering like I am now? Maybe, it was easier for him, because he’s made of negativity as well... Perhaps, he was enduring agony so much worse, for a thousand reasons or for no reason at all.
Dream’s soul feels a bit heavier with an odd combination of compassion and fear. The darkness pushes and presses on, immediately spotting the weakness, using it to its advantage. It really would be so much simpler if Dream didn’t have any emotions in the first place.
“And negativity?” Nightmare asks in a heedful manner, like talking to a child. Or a bomb, utterly unpredictable, without a timer or any other sign of when, how, or why it would explode.
Dream really doesn’t want to answer that question. Why does Nightmare repeatedly drive him into a corner? Lies won’t lead him anywhere, but the truth is just unbearable. And it feels like it’ll get even more real, more powerful as soon as Dream says it out loud. Why does Nightmare do this to him?
No. It’s so easy to get lost in negative thoughts, it’s so tempting to make up the blame and place it on others, on himself, on the whole world. That’s why Dream takes a deep breath.
Then breathes out, ever so slowly.
And tells the truth.
“Negativity steadily kills me.” His voice falters, but he continues. “At least I think so.”
Nightmare closes his sockets. Cross quivers like he’s been hit and leans a little closer to Dream, and even Killer swallows — not loudly, but there is still only deserted silent space around, so no sound conceals what’s happening, no movement distracts them, nothing is in their way.
Quite possibly, it’s for the best. Dream’s got enough chaos in his own head.
Cross opens his mouth to speak, but no words come. Apparently, because Nightmare raises an open hand — a gesture even Dream is familiar with, one demanding silence. Killer obviously obeys, but so does Cross, without a second of hesitance. Interesting how something never changed, even though Cross has been by Dream’s side for a long time. Some little habits that just stayed there. Does Cross even realise that? Perhaps not...
Nonetheless, he’s great at what he does. Protecting and supporting. Warmth and pride take over Dream’s soul, so light and gentle; they quickly become agony, burning and freezing at the same time, and Dream can only hope his expression doesn’t give the sharp pain away. Although he’s always been bad at lying, or even keeping things secret.
It does get worse as time passes. How much does he have left?
In any case... Here and now, Dream’s with his brother, and they are talking. He’s got this chance. If his death, not immediate but inevitable, is the price...
As soon as he meets Nightmare’s serious, hard gaze, he realises he didn’t end that thought. Somehow, it relieves a tiny bit of the pressure.
“Think carefully and answer this truthfully. Have you talked to a voice? Have you responded?”
Well, that’s unexpected. Out of nowhere, dare he say. And if Cross and Killer’s reactions are anything to go by, it’s not just Dream who is missing something. Both their companions keep straight faces, but Dream doesn’t need any telling signs to tell how a person feels. Regardless of his own desires and preferences, he just knows.
At the moment the three of them are equally bewildered.
“A... voice? What are you talking about? What voice?”
“A male voice,” clarifies Nightmare firmly and moves closer to Dream once again. It’s almost funny how similar Killer and Cross are in their tension, readiness to attack — to protect — if needed, and their motives are not identical but the same in nature. It seems both twins have found someone to rely on, someone who’d stand by them.
That train of thought makes Dream anxious in a way that drags him down, crushes his head, and clenches his soul. Anxiety that verges on horror.
Since the beginning, they were alone.
Nightmare carefully, gently takes Dream’s hands in his. His bare fingers are as delicate and fragile as Dream’s own, hidden under layers of gloves and gloop. A mere second before touching he hesitates, although so briefly it must go unnoticed by anybody but the twins. Dream does notice.
So, Nightmare trusts him yet stays wary.
“Please, brother, it’s important,” Nightmare continues. “He could manipulate you. Humiliation and invalidation, flattery, blackmail, he’d use everything. When you held the black apple, was there someone else in your head? Is there now?”
So, so long ago, when Nightmare talked in such a serious manner, Dream couldn’t help chuckling. No matter how much he tried, his laughter broke free. If Nightmare ever got offended or upset, he didn’t show it — instead he used to shake his head fondly and asked to not be so careless. Many centuries passed, and even now Dream feels the urge to chuckle. Only it’s different; this time, he couldn’t make a single strangled sound, even if he wanted to.
Oh, how much he wants to.
Then, that tiny bit of positive emotions is carried away, forcefully changed into fatigue and pain, so sharp it makes him want to fall and bend and to never get up. Dream is so very tired. So much effort just to stand on feet, and Nightmare’s weird questions don’t help at all. Still, he responds, clear uncertainty in his tone, “I... don’t know?..” Sounds half-questioningly, so Dream coughs, making a pause, then proceeds. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Nightmare lets Dream’s hands go, and Dream really cannot deny the desire — almost need — to reach out and make their contact last a moment longer, please, please...
Since when are his preferences and needs are of any importance?
Therefore, Dream lets the moment go, his hands hanging by either side like a dead weight. What’s the point if Dream can’t even touch his brother without being afraid? How long will it take him to lose control? To... die?
The world’s always been so unfair to them. Why is the world so unfair to them? What did they do to deserve this?
Unaware of the thoughts tearing his twin’s mind apart (or maybe knowing them all too well?..), Nightmare brushes his right temple, yet never starts rubbing. Dream remembers how he used to do exactly that when lost in thoughts that just don’t seem to lead anywhere yet. Like a dead end. So... No answers from his brother, it seems, at least not right now.
The pause gets so long it’s awkward. Dream finds himself enveloped in overwhelming distress, his chest tight and heavy.
Cross, as if feeling something, moves closer once again, and their shoulders are touching now, and — the last blow, only in a good way, — he takes Dream’s hand, so sure and steadfast. At that moment, there is so much love between them, such a deep and strong desire to protect and support no matter what... Stunned by the intensity of their feelings, the negativity miraculously withdraws. Suddenly, Dream can exist almost freely, almost painlessly.
He lets out a breath and looks Cross in the sockets with all the gratitude in the world, squeezing his hand. Their movement seems to help Nightmare focus because he stirs and finally says, every word clear, clipped, and unexpectedly loud, “Interesting. His silence might buy us some time.” Then, he lowers his voice, as if sharing a secret, “Or it could be a sign of extreme danger.”
“How do we tell which one is true in our case?”
Faithful, resolute Cross. He understands even less than Dream, and he’s scared — scared to fail him, scared to lose him — yet he is ready to fight. And maybe it’s just Dream seeing things, but for a mere second, he sees Killer’s satisfied smile; people smile like that when something lives up to their expectations. The chances are high it’s just Dream’s imagination, for he doesn’t pay much attention to anything but his brother. Only the warmth of Cross’ hand reminds him of the world around.
Nightmare sighs and shakes his head, “I need more information.” His tone is close to guilty, apologetic. Although Dream doesn’t get the chance to comment, or react at all, since Killer chips in, deliberately nonchalant and careless, “No need to waste time chatting, then. Which way, boss?”
“No haste, Killer. A single misstep will cost us many lives, ours included. You are right, though, we do need to part ways.” Nightmare makes a pause, and all too clearly Dream sees how his he does his best to not hunch and hug himself tightly in an attempt to shrink and take less space. Yet another habit from the past. Despite his struggles, Nightmare manages to keep his voice firm and confident, “Back home, for a start. Something has gone wrong, and all of us will need all energy we can get to figure this out.”
And recover from the recent events, he doesn’t say, but Dream knows nevertheless. So does Killer, that’s for sure. Cross... Well, he definitely can take a guess.
Nightmare offers a hand, and somehow Dream shakes it with just a moment of delay. For a second he just hangs there, staring at the palm he’d thought he’d never see again. Staring at Nightmare — true Nightmare, the brother he loves so very much, then how could it be, why such cruelty?..
All too soon the touch is gone again, and Cross leads Dream to the side, ever so gently, as if a single tiny misstep would break him.
As if he’d drag the whole Multiverse down with him.
“Dream?” Nightmare calls, suddenly.
Do not hope, Dream tells himself. Don’t even turn around.
“Yeah?” he responds, weakly. It takes too much just to say this short word. It takes too much to not sob, or for his voice to not crack. Please, let him hold the tears back, at least in front of his brother. Let him be strong enough to delay the moment he falls and shudders with wails. Merely a delay, that’s all he’s asking for.
“If you ever hear that voice, please, do not answer. Or at least never agree to anything.”
What joy. This time, Dream can’t reply with one word. Pulling himself together, he forces something that remotely resembles a chuckle. “I still don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, but I promise to never react to any unfamiliar voices in my head. Stars, that sounds weird.”
Thinking about insignificant nonsense is times easier than focusing on the most important. Laughing it all off and brushing everything away is way simpler than reflecting and seeking solutions. Besides, it’s not like Dream can change anything right now.
“No. Don’t make promises. Just... do your best, alright? That will buy us some time.” Nightmare’s voice expresses none of the pain his words hold. Dream knows that for sure. After all, his brother seems to talk from experience, which possibly means he has failed once, and he’d never expect Dream to do something he couldn’t. That Dream can’t know for sure, there is no way to prove or deny his guess, but it’s there, as much as he doesn’t like it. Once again, has his opinion ever been of any importance?
Then, Nightmare orders in his firm, demanding voice, “Killer, give Cross a temporary access code to our place.” Dream doesn’t need to turn around to know his brother is starting to work on a plan already. Practically feels gears turning in that brilliant head of his. “As for you two, come there when the code almost expires. That much time should be enough.”
Dream notices how Nightmare doesn’t even think to clarify — enough for what? He likely has no idea either. Just enough.
Dream... cannot force a single word out of himself.
It hurts. He’s scared. Why would they divide?
No. No. He knows why. Because he can be dangerous. He’s got to go back to the anti-void, the only place that has nobody he could harm. Well, except for Cross. He’ll be there to look after Dream until it’s time to meet again. They’ve come through so much together, surely they’ll handle this as well.
“I got the code,” Cross informs, finally, and is Dream hearing things, or does he actually sound perplexed? Ah, never mind.
None of it matters.
“I’ll see you again,” Nightmare states behind them as a matter of fact.
Dream tries to answer, but nothing comes. At the moment, there’s no strength left in him to form even one word. Cross comes to the aid, agreeing bluntly, “Naturally.”
Then, they come through a portal, and Cross immediately hurries to close it. Here, in relative safety, away from his brother, Dream finally lets his legs give away, falling on the knees. His whole body trembles violently in anguish and dread that are coming out as tears, Dream wails until he can’t hear himself anymore, and after that, the screams come — incoherent at first, they quickly turn into words, and words become long, long sentences filled with misery and despair. Dream isn’t really aware of what he’s saying, exactly; he just lets the pain and the words out.
At the back of his mind, there’s a feeling of somebody close by... Who?.. Who’s there to share his agony, who could hold so much compassion towards the cursed fallen guardian?..
Dream clenches his fists, ready to hit the invisible floor. What stops him is one clear, vivid sensation. There’s a ring on his finger, and the glove covers his finger just a bit too tighter under that thin line. That ring has so much more to it than just physical weight.
Oh, Cross... All this time — who knows how much that is — he’s been standing there, waiting patiently for Dream to be ready for his help and support, has he not? No, that’s a silly question. Of course, he has. It cannot be otherwise.
Dream awkwardly turns around and reaches out blindly. In an instant, he’s in a tight embrace. Tears are still burning on his cheeks, almost as much as the negativity, but now Dream has so many more sensations to focus on. They keep his mind occupied until there’s no space left for pain.
Even, deep breaths Dream does his best to adjust to. Movement of the chest, hidden under the layers of stiff yet durable clothes. Weight of the hands that hold close, tender and loving. An anchor, just for Dream.
Belatedly, he hugs Cross back.
The darkness surrounds him, penetrating his mind and soul, but... here and now, the fallen guardian isn’t alone.
The tears keep falling. Nothing is over. This, apparently, is only the beginning.
Undertale © Toby Fox
Dreamtale © jokublog
Cross © jakei95 / xtaleunderverse
Shattered!Dream © shattereddreamsau
Dark Cream ©zu-is-here
X-tra Dark Cream © me (anfie / anfie-in-the-box)
Read it on ao3
Read Russian version on ficbook (link to be added) or fanficus
I'm so x-cited! The twins and their companions, not so much.
If anybody is still lost, this story begins during the last part of Dark Cream comic. Nightmare's words are the same here and there; that should help you navigate.
The last sentences? Those are totally a reference to this. I live for references, so there's likely much more, I'm just not ready to write them all down. Maybe I'll get back to that later. We'll see.
Feel free to let me know what you think, I'd be delighted to hear you out and discuss things that aren't spoilers!
Thanks for reading, and take care 🌻
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Romanced! Male! FONV Companions and the first time they’re shown soft forms of Affection
Here it is! The final installment of this prompt! (for the time being, anyway. If y’all request more I’d be psyched to re-visit this one).
I also included Joshua for... reasons. (Ever since doing research on him for the crushing companions prompt, I just... I really like him, okay? And the scene that came to mind for this was just too good to pass up, so here ya go :)
I hope you all enjoy!
FO3 M! Companions with this prompt
FO4 M! Companions with this prompt
The Apocalypse doctor was curled up oddly where he was seated, one leg over the arm of the couch while the other propped him up from below; a pleasant expression played on his face as he turned the page of whatever it was he was reading. Six loitered in the doorway to their bedroom in the Lucky 38, a hand resting below their chin thoughtfully as they gazed at their companion. He hasn’t moved since I left to speak with Mr. House. How the hell is he comfortable this way? Though it may have been a tad creepy on their part, Six had to admit, they loved seeing Arcade this way; unconcerned, peaceful, content, the way he looked when no one was around to bother him, he could just be unapologetically himself.
“Ahem.” Six’s gaze fell into focus on Arcade’s face as he pulled them from their thoughts, his glasses tipped comically down on his nose as he looked at them with raised brows.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think you, ah, saw me.” Rubbing at the back of their neck, Six stepped into the room at last, moving towards their companion as he cocked a brow at them.
“Yeah… so you just stalk people… recreationally, then? I certainly wouldn’t say you’re a professional.” Six collapsed onto the couch beside him, huffing as a laugh escaped their throat at their partner's tone.
"Yep, definitely just do it for fun. The stalking industry is so hard to get into these days." Out of the corner of their eye, Six noticed Arcade shaking his head in mock exasperation as he turned back to his reading. He gave his fingers a lick and went to turn the page as Six leaned towards him, allowing themself to teeter over until their head bonked against his shoulder.
"Was there anything you needed? Or did you just misplace all the pillows again?" His green eyes flicked to their face for a moment, a glint of amusement reflecting off his lenses, before they returned to peruse the words on the page.
"Mhm." They closed their eyes and nuzzled harder into his shoulder, feeling him flinch slightly as their cheekbone pressed into him.
"That's… that's not an answer, Six, it wasn't a 'yes' or a 'no’ question."
"Mhm." They heard the pages of his reading material ruffle as their partner dropped it to his lap heavily in his show of frustration.
"That's also pretty high up there on the scale of things that are vague and unhelpful."
"Yes. There's something I needed." Six grumbled, as they tried to appease the doctor, eyes still closed as their warm breath fanned downward over his chest.
"Oh?" They felt him shift to look at them again, a distinct fakeness ringing out from the simple word as Arcade feigned interest in what it is they needed from him.
"Mhm. I need you to… read something." They mumbled into him, hiding any trace of their flushed expression as they improvised an excuse for just wanting to be near their partner.
"Come again?" They groaned as they brought their arms over to wrap around Arcade, forcing him to adjust his position to accommodate their invasion of his space.
"Whatever you're reading, can you just… say it out loud? I wanna listen."
A sigh escaped the man and Sole just knew he was rolling his eyes. But they remained rather skeptical of his apparent annoyance in response to their request as he wrenched an arm free from their embrace, bringing it instead to rest over their shoulders. He shifted slightly downward on the couch, so they could rest against him more easily.
"If you insist. Though, I hope you know, this is going to prove to be quite the inconvenience for me."
“Isn’t everything?” They asked quietly, a sly grin forming at their lips as they teased their partner.
“What was that?”
Oh, you heard me.
“Isn’t everything an inconvenience for you?” His pause told Six all they needed to know about the expression on his face. The distinct frown he must have worn, his eyes half covered by his low-set brow. They almost opened their eyes to see it for themself, knowing full-well how adorable Arcade was when he was perturbed, but he spoke before they had the chance.
“Did you want me to read to you, or not?” They had to stifle a laugh at the annoyance in his voice, and answered his question with a lazy nod of their head, using the action as an excuse to burrow themself deeper into the crook under his chin. They felt the vibration of his throat pressing against the top of their head as he began to speak to them, his voice starting out at a normal volume, with little intonation.
As they listened, they heard Arcade begin to relax, his voice becoming low and soft from above their head, an auditory hint to the courier that he was getting sleepy, as his words began to slur slightly. Six panicked a bit, not yet ready for their partner to dissolve into unconsciousness; they wanted to make the moment last just a little longer. Arcade’s voice leapt up an octave, and Six felt the man jolt slightly as they brought their lips to his clavicle, a soft chuckle escaping them at his reaction to their sudden gesture, and his voice picked up again, surprised by the unanticipated contact of their mouth against the sensitive area below his neck. Six felt his grip around them tighten ever so slightly as he continued his reading in earnest, and they couldn’t help but grin, reveling in the softness of his skin against theirs, and the subdued resonance of his voice as it enveloped them, drawing them ever closer to the same sleep they had just denied him.
Six smoothed their hands over the map of the Mojave, biting the inside of their cheek in thought as they considered the Legion camps that were highlighted. The soft sound of Boone's snores filled the room as sunlight streamed through the meager windows of their Novac apartment. Sighing, Six began to fold up the map quietly and prepared to ready their bags for departure out into the wastes once again. It had been nice to take a break here, Boone had even resumed his night shift for the few days the pair were in town, but tonight they would head on their way again, this time towards The Fort… Six shuddered at the thought, and jolted as they heard Boone's breath catch from across the room.
They looked over at him, heart thudding in their chest as they saw him writhe from beneath the covers. His breathing had become heavy and desperate, and grunts of pain accompanied the grimace etched on his face. Not another one. Just let him sleep, you bastards! They silently cursed.
Approaching tentatively, Six readied themself to put up with a fight, he always came out of his nightmares fighting. Shrieks of fear and rage, fists flying, and tears running; they were all common in the aftermath of his horrid night terrors.
"Shh. Easy, Boone." They knew it wouldn't help him much, he was still trapped in the depths of unconsciousness. But hopefully their voice could help to ease him out of it. They knelt beside the bed, running their hand up to his arm, stroking smoothly as they felt the muscles tightening beneath their fingers.
"Come on, honey. It's alright. It's not real." Six said a bit louder, hoping to rouse him as his violent flailing began to lessen.
"That's it. You're alright, Boone. You're safe." His eyes wrenched open, and he shot up fast enough to scare Six backwards into a sitting position a foot away from the bedside.
"You're okay! It's okay. It's just me." They told him, willing to keep their voice steady and at least somewhat calm.
Boone's chest heaved as he peered wildly around the dim little room, his arms still shaking from their previous exertion. Six scooted towards the bed tentatively, rising up onto their knees so they could reach out their hand. They didn't touch him, they knew better than to push too far when he was in such a state, but they slid their hand towards him, close enough for him to grasp if he so chose. His broad shoulders rose and fell heavily as he tried to calm his breathing, and Six noted the sweat glistening on his forehead as he finally set his hazy green gaze on them. He brought his hand over to meet theirs, placing it lightly over top of their own before pulling it away swiftly and closing his eyes. The gesture acted as a silent acknowledgement of their presence, a confirmation that he was aware of his surroundings once again, and a sign that Boone’s panic-stricken self was subdued enough to keep from lashing out at whatever was in his vicinity. A rough sigh forced its way out of his throat and he fell backwards onto the bed once again, drawing his hands to rub against his face.
Six stood slowly and circled around the bed until they reached the other side, climbing onto the mattress to sit beside him. Silence encased the pair as Boone wrenched himself out of his terror-filled fog, and Six sat by him, acting as support in the strange way that Boone needed it. He didn't say anything to them, didn't touch them, or even look at them as he quieted his breathing and slowly relaxed his tense body, but Six knew that, if they left his side, he would surely notice. He just needed them there. And they were happy to oblige.
Eventually, Six felt their fatigue get to them, and opted to shift down into a horizontal position. Lying on their back, heavily lidded eyes trained on the off-white ceiling, they tried to keep from drifting off, in case Boone decided he wanted to reach out to them, to seek comfort in them, to touch them, to perhaps even say something to them, anything.
It could happen. One day, maybe.
They had only closed their eyes for a brief moment when they felt it. A strong arm wrapping tightly around their abdomen, anchoring itself there as the body beside them shifted to be flush with theirs. Six's lip twitched upwards at Boone's gesture, and they willed their heart to be subtle in its frantic beating as their partner positioned himself nearly on top of them, his head resting on their chest, his arm still clinging to their side, one leg thrown over theirs as he breathed deeply through his nose, drawing in their comforting, familiar scent.
Six brought their own arm up and across their body, their hand laying softly atop his shoulder, where they gave him a little squeeze. They let their hand remain there as they reveled in the feel of his warmth against them, pushing them deep into the plushness of the mattress below.
"Thank you." They felt him breath into their chest, almost too quiet to hear, and they couldn't keep their grin at bay any longer. Sighing contentedly, Six bent their head forward, pressing their cheek to Boone's forehead in acknowledgement of his words before letting it fall back onto the pillow with a dull thud.
I suppose ‘one day’ is today.
Six ducked their head, extending their hand to push open the flap of their companion's tent. Heat washed over them as they entered the small space, a soft glow shone through the west-facing wall of the structure as it was bathed in the light of the setting sun. Through the dimness, they could make out a shadowy figure towards the back of the covered room.
"Joshua?" They ventured, and Six's breath caught in their throat as the silhouette turned to face them. They hardly managed to make out the details of their companion as he looked towards them; his icy blue eyes practically glowing in the darkness of the tent, his scarred flesh exposed to the elements as he held a roll of linen bandages in his hand. The material was wound around the majority of his waist, leaving his chest, arms, and face uncovered as he peered at them questioningly.
"Oh, love…" They whispered as they moved towards him, eyes trained on his as they tried to avoid centering their attention on his ravaged skin. It's been so long… how can it still look like this?
They wanted to comfort him, to caress their partner and make his anguish vanish forevermore at the light touch of their hands on his skin, but they knew their contact would only make it worse. Six seated themself in front of their companion as he continued to look at them expectantly.
"Yes? Is there something you needed?" Six finally let their gaze fall downwards in their uncertainty. Why had I come in here? Surely there'd been a reason… They couldn't recall, but as they peered down at the floor, lost in thought, their blurred sight came into focus on his hand; the one grasping firmly at the cream-colored bandage. Six felt their own hand reach for his of its own accord, and snatched it back a moment before it could make contact with him.
"Do you… need some help?" His brows furrowed at them, a flustered expression seeming to appear on his face out of nowhere as he glanced down at his bare skin.
Damn, it's good to be able to see his whole face. Six thought, studying the expression intently as they took in the details of their partner for the first time.
"That's kind of you to offer.” He said quietly, “But I can manage." He began to resume his wrapping tentatively, unsure what to do, since Six had never actually told him why they came into his tent in the first place.
"Please. I'd like to help." Six finally brought their hand to his, gentle, but insisting in the way it grasped at the round of fabric, their fingers barely brushing his. He paused his movement, bringing his attention back up to Six’s face as he read their pleading expression.
"Then who am I to deny you?" He said, before turning his hand upwards, offering them the bandage. He unwrapped his fingers from the cloth, allowing Six to take it from him. They smiled at his words and his gesture, scooting themself closer to him in preparation. The missionary raised his arms slightly as they brought theirs to wrap around his body, transferring the bandage roll from one hand to the other behind his back before resuming the action of stretching it over his damaged skin.
"Let me know if I'm hurting you."
"You're not." He assured them quickly, "It's actually… easier this way." His eyes never left their face as they moved around him, his brows softening over his clear eyes, a stark contrast to the blistering redness of the skin surrounding them.
"What do you mean?" They began to wind the fabric up over one of his shoulders, looking to him for confirmation that they were doing it correctly. When he nodded his approval, they carried on with their movements, brows furrowed in concentration and concern.
"With you aiding me," he told them, "I don't need to strain myself to reach around as I normally would. So… thank you." Six smiled at him, continuing their actions as soothingly as they could, still worried about brushing over him too roughly, despite his assurance that he was alright.
The pair continued in silence, Joshua giving them nonverbal nods of approval as they continued down his arm to his fingers, which proved to be quite complicated to bandage properly. With his help, they finished his left arm, moving now to his right with another roll of linen he produced from the bag beside his bed roll.
"I have a question for you." He said quietly, eyes still following their every move as they finished up wrapping his right arm.
"Hmm?" Six hummed, their eyes trained on his fingers once again, as their tongue stuck out from between their lips in their current state of focus.
"This doesn't… bother you?" The words left his throat thickly, causing it to sound strained as Joshua voiced his inquiry. Six's eyes flashed up to meet his for a moment, narrowing as they asked silently for clarification before they returned their attention to his bandages.
"I only mean," he continued, "you don't mind...seeing me like this?" Six finished wrapping Joshua's hand, tearing the fabric with their teeth, and tucking the end into itself to secure it. Looking up, they met his unrelenting gaze, and felt themself shudder slightly at its intensity. They opened their mouth, intending to answer him, but as their eyes flicked to Joshua's lips, seeing them uncovered for the first time, they felt they simply couldn't grace his question with a verbal response.
Bringing a hand up to his face, Six let their fingers brush lightly over the skin of his cheek, leaning towards him slowly so that he could stop them if he so chose.
Instead, their partner pushed forward of his own accord, meeting them halfway, the feeling of his lips as they lightly brushed theirs giving them all the confirmation they needed that he didn't mind their contact. In fact, they would say he quite enjoyed it, as they felt one of his cloth-covered hands come up to caress their cheek as he pressed harder into them, his scarred lips moving almost desperately against theirs; the feeling of Six's soft skin pressed directly to his for the first time driving him into a fervorous state he didn't know he had. The roughness of his mouth as it kneaded theirs created a tantalizing friction that kept Six pleading for more, the temptation to grasp at him more firmly and pull him ever closer coming dangerously close to action. But they managed to hold themself back, settling for the satiating feel of their current contact with their partner.
After a few moments, the pair finally pulled away, in desperate need of breath, and Six couldn't help but grin as they felt a heated blush rise to their cheeks. Their eyes darted upward to lock with Joshua's once again, and they were surprised to see the way they crinkled as his own small smile formed at his lips.
"No, love," They managed to say between breaths, finally deciding to grace his question with a proper response, if only to confirm what the kiss had suggested. "It doesn't bother me. Not in the slightest."
Six's eyes blinked open slowly, their lids heavy as they forced them upwards in an effort to find their companion amid the plain of blankets spread out before them; they groaned at the realization that Raul had never actually made it to their bed. I told him to quit working on that damn jammed magazine ages ago.
Six clambered off of the mattress, flailing their arms about as the blankets attempted to keep them constricted in their depths.
"Raul?" They tried, bare feet padding softly towards their bedroom door as they called for him in their groggy, sleep-filled voice. Peering down the hallway of their suite in the Lucky 38, Six noticed a glow shining from beneath the door leading to the workroom. It creaked softly as they pressed their hand to it and Six shook their head, smiling faintly at the sight in front of them. Their partner was still hunched over the workbench, face pressed flush against the metal tabletop, the same pistol he had been working on all evening was clasped weakly in his limp hands. Six made their way over to him, giggling softly as they noticed the dribble of drool wetting the top of the workbench. Oh, I’ll have to tell him about this. And he calls me embarrassing.
Six brought a hand up to brush against his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles over the thin material of his jumpsuit. They bent down and pressed their lips to his temple delicately as their hand's circular movements grew to stroke over the whole of his back.
"Come on, papi. Time for bed." They said to him at a normal volume, hoping their words could do a better job at waking him than their actions had.
They felt him shift slightly at the sound of their voice so close to his ear, and they bent their head lower, coaxing him into consciousness with the pressure of their lips at his brow, his cheekbone, his jawline, then over to the corner of his mouth. Six's kiss to his lips barely made contact before they felt Raul jolt, his eyes snapping open and widening as he noticed their proximity to him.
"Oh! Uh, morning, boss. Or is it even morning?" He peeled his cheek from the surface of the table, looking up at them as his gravelly voice reached their ears.
"Ay dios mío. What is the time, anyway?" The ghoul rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles, chasing the blurriness from his vision as he returned his gaze to the courier.
"It's early, mi amor." They told him, their heart skipping a beat at the lazy smile he donned as they used a few choice words in his native language.
"Too early to be awake. Come to bed." Six rose to their feet, a hand reaching to caress his cheek, encouraging him to rise with them.
"No need to ask me twice. My neck is killing me." The ghoul reached up to rub at the stiff muscle as Six helped him rise from the stool he was seated on. They grabbed his other arm, draping it over their shoulders as they moved slowly towards their bedroom, tucking themself into his side to support him as they made their way down the hallway.
"You know, I think I can manage from here, mi corazón." Six smiled and tightened their grip around the ghoul's waist in a tender act of defiance. He just laughed in response, leaning further into them as he gave in to their supportive action.
When they reached the bed, Six released their grip on their partner, allowing themself to collapse backwards onto the lavish bedspread. Their hand caught Raul's on the way, pulling their companion with them as they fell. He chuckled as he landed heavily on the mattress, trying to brace himself to land with some grace, but ultimately failing as Six twisted to pull him practically on top of them.
“What was that for? I almost kneed you in your unmentionables.”
“That sure would have spoiled the mood, huh?” They giggled at him, turning their head to peer up at his face, “But I suppose it wouldn’t have done any more than the bit of drool on your lip, there.” Six brought a finger to Raul’s lips, poking lightly at the spot. His eyes widened, and though they were quite sure it wasn’t possible, they could’ve sworn they saw him blush as he brought the back of his hand roughly to wipe at his mouth.
“Is it gone?” He asked, bringing his hand away so they could get a better look at him.
“Hmm…” They scrutinized the man, shifting onto their side to face him, and leaning forward enough to feel their nose brushing against his cheek.
“I don’t see--” Raul cut them off as he brought his mouth to theirs, the close proximity proving too much for him to be able to resist.
“--anything.” They mumbled to his mouth as he smiled sheepishly into the kiss.
It was strange… this giddy feeling. Raul didn’t recall ever feeling anything like it, at least, not in a couple of centuries, but as he pulled away, planting one last parting kiss to Six’s nose and throwing an arm over top of them, he knew he could certainly get used to it. The ghoul only hummed in response as he felt Six shift to press themself closer to him, and he grasped at the blankets, pulling them up to cover his companion as the pair began to drift off into sleep once more.
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zuko x water tribe sibling!reader
request - I want to request a Zuko x fem reader being Sokka and Katara's sister. She can be the older sister or sokka's twin sister. Also when they start dating Sokka and Katara can like threaten him by saying don't hurt my sister or else.
A/N - This is taking place after the war, I'm vaguely uncomfy writing for underage people (or like younger than 17) so I just went ahead and aged them up. I'm sorry if that's not what you were wanting! I'm also sort of ignoring the plot of the comics and stuff and we are ignoring Mai's existence. I don't feel like this was my best writing by any means but i tried and i thought it was a cute idea. There will probably be more zuko x reader coming soon
word count - 2000
You took a deep breath in, the warm air refreshing after having just spent the last month in the southern water tribe with your family besides Katara who was off saving lives with Aang. Your twin brother stood beside you, his hair grown out and tied into a ponytail. Your sister would be here in the fire nation in a week with Aang. It had been three years since the war, you had just been kids at the time. You and Sokka were 15 during the last battle and you had felt so old then. Now, looking back, you had been immature and childish but you had grown up. After the war ended you remained in the fire nation for a few months. You had wanted to get a little bit of quiet before you started going on more adventures with your brother.
You had been very close with Zuko while he was traveling with you and the gang. You didn't know why but you trusted him, maybe it was because you trusted Toph's judgement but either way you had accepted him quicker than the others. You remembered how cold the rest of the group had been to him and it almost was funny to you now considering that Katara had just told you a story in a recent letter about Toph, Aang, and Zuko getting into a bickering match about fire flakes that ended in Toph trapping both of the boys into a earth tent. It was also hard to comprehend that Zuko was the new Firelord and he ruled over a whole nation.
It had been 2 years since you saw Zuko in person. It wasn't on purpose but you kept getting pulled in different directions, none of them leading you into the fire nation. You were excited but also scared to see him, butterflies filling your stomach at the thought of seeing him. You'd had a bit of a crush on the new Firelord when you last saw him but you refused to tell either of your siblings, knowing that they would threaten him to high heaven before he even knew about it.
Your brother walking beside you calmed you a bit, his presence being comforting to you. He was much taller than you now and he was more confident than the kid he had been during the war. You knew that the same was true for Aang, though he never grew up in personality. As you approached the gates of the palace you wondered if Zuko had changed.
You realized that he had as the gates opened and he was stood on the steps up to the palace waiting for both of you. His hair was long and it was pulled into a messy bun. His scar was no longer shrouded in his bangs and he seemed more confident in his stance. His robes were long and elegant and you wondered if he wore them by choice of if they were required because of his position. Your brother jogged slightly to get to Zuko faster, having grown to hold a strong bond with the man. You walked calmly but there was a smile on your face as your brother and Zuko embraced. Once the released each other Zuko turned to you. You noticed him gulp a bit and a blush threatened to cover your cheeks. Your grin became wider the closer you got to him and soon you were wrapped in his embrace.
You noticed that his frame was larger. You leaned your head back from the hug to look at his face and he looked well. Like he was happy and maybe even getting enough sleep.
"Hey there, Sifu Hotman." You smiled and Zuko rolled his eyes as he released you from the hug.
"I see we haven't matured in 2 years?" He grunts but you can see the smile trying to creep onto his face. "Toph still calls me that too." He grumbled lowly and you started laughing.
"Where is the little demon?"
"She's away dealing with some prisoners for me. She should be back in a week or so." Zuko smiled. "She's taken up a pretty important role here. She's like my personal lie detector. She likes to sit in on council meetings and scare everyone."
"I think that's actually her dream job." You smiled and Zuko hummed in agreement. There was a bit of a silence as you and Zuko just gazed at each other. He seemed so sure now. You had missed him dearly.
"Okay! Let's get this show on the road, people!" Sokka yelled and you internally groaned that he had to ruin the moment. Before you all turned toward the palace, Zuko sent you a wink and you felt a blush cover your face. As you headed up the steps of the palace you felt a comforting hand on your lower back as the Fire Lord gently followed behind you, Sokka running ahead of you, likely to find the food in the kitchens that he was accostomed to spending all of his time in.
"Can I speak to you in private when we get a moment?" Zuko asks and again your heart rate picks up. You turn your head to look at him.
"Of course" You smiled and he smiles back at you, making your head spin a bit. You spent the next few hours meeting new advisors, getting a tour through new parts of the palace, and catching up with Zuko who seemed to be acting more clingy than you had ever remembered him to be.
"Y/N, would you mind coming with me?" Zuko asked and you turned to face him with a smile.
"Of course!" You chirped as he led you to a secluded hallway away from your brother who was discussing war strategy with an advisor of Zuko's.
When you reached a place where you were out of earshot of others Zuko gently took your hands.
"I have something to confess." He stated and you felt fire on your cheeks, you nodded for him to continue, "I'm in love with you. I have been for years and I've never acted on it because there was always something going on and I was so unsure but now-" he gazed into your eyes with sincerity, "I couldn't be more sure. I want to be with you. If you'd have me, that is." Instead of answering you jumped forward, pressing your lips onto Zuko's in a searing kiss. He groaned and pushed back, trapping you against a wall. He pulled away to press his forehead into yours and you closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again and gazing at the man in front of you.
"Katara is gonna kill you." You mumbled and Zuko smiled.
"You aren't worried about Sokka?"
"I just know that Sokka can't win in a fight against you. Katara on the other hand..." you trailed off and Zuko looked offended.
"That's pretty rude to say to the man who just confessed his love for you."
"I'm just being honest. Toph might have some words too."
Zuko shuddered at the thought of what they could do to him. Sokka would be upset but he could probably handle it. Aang would be happy for both of them he was sure, always the peacemaker and moderator. Aang would probably be the only reason that Katara wouldn't attack Zuko immediately.
Over the next week you snuck around with Zuko, taking alone time any chance that you got. Sokka rarely let you get any peace as he stayed with you nearly constantly. He was always a little on the defence with you and he would likely settle in and ease up over the coming weeks as he got used to the new environment. You were never a huge fighter, though you could hold your own. You also couldn't bend. You were the one of the group who took care of everyone, you were the smartest in strategy by far, and you were the only one who could reason with Toph. Because of this, Sokka had gotten used to just being near you in case anything happened, though it was rare that anything did. You appreciated it normally but now you wanted time alone so that you could spend it with Zuko as you got used to being in a relationship that was more than platonic. But today was the day that the rest of the gang was arriving, even Suki would be joining you so you hoped that would take some of the clingy-ness of Sokka away. You all stood at the front of the palace, much like Zuko had stood for you a week earlier, and watched as Appa approached in the distance. He flew gently in front of you and as soon as he landed in front of you he licked you with his giant tongue and you were covered in slobber. Despite this you couldn't be happier to see the giant animal and you embraced him. You were suddenly pulled away and brought into the arms of your little sister.
"I missed you, Y/N." She mumbled into your neck and you smiled into hers, it had been so long since you had seen her and you felt tears come to your eyes at the relief of having her near.
You spent the next hours catching up with Katara and Aang, who had grown to be taller than you since you last saw him. Toph and Suki arrived that night and you were all glad to be together again at last, old memories coming back and filling you all with joy. You and Zuko looked at each other and you took a deep breath. You had discussed that you would be revealing your relationship to the rest of the group when you were all together but you were nervous for their reactions.
"So... I have something I would like to tell you guys." You stated and all of the conversation died down, all eyes suddenly on you. "Me and Zuko are together." You rushed out and you only got blank stares for a moment before there was groaning from Toph and Sokka.
"You couldn't have waited another year? I didn't think you would have figured it out by now." Toph grumbled and pulled some coins out of her pocket, Sokka doing the same. Suki and Katara held out their hands and money got dropped into them, both with smug looks on their faces. Zuko looked over at you and had the same look of shock that you likely did.
"What?" You mumbled.
"We all knew you were going to get together of course, you've been pining after each other for years, but me and Suki said you would be getting together this month and Toph said in a year. Sokka actually said in 3 months so he was closer than Toph was." Katara stated simply and you still just stared at her, mouth agape. "We also talked about the fact that if he hurts you," Her gaze shifted to a nervous looking Zuko, "we would all be committing some crimes."
"I feel like I should clarify that those crimes include maiming and murder." Sokka glared at Zuko and he gulped.
"But I'm so happy for you two!" Katara exclaimed, her attitude shifting completely. You and Zuko stared at each other in shock and then you smiled at him. You were so happy to finally be together and to have your friends around you.
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