#first strong feeling it acknowledges being fear??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spacelazarwolf · 5 months

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apparently a bunch of ppl on social media are trying to call for a boycott of rick riordan because of this statement in a blog post:

Becky and I are just back from a busy weekend with events at the Boston Book Festival and New York Comic-Con.

Before I get into that, however, some words to acknowledge the ongoing horrors in Israel and Gaza. As many of you may know, I am no longer on social media. My accounts post only updates on my books and related projects. I do not read posts, reply to posts, or share my thoughts about world events on those forums. That doesn’t mean I don’t have strong feelings and reactions. It means I am offline as completely as possible, except for the occasional blog post like this one.

I will say this: Over the last eighteen years, I have received many fan letters from young readers, both Israeli and Palestinian, who often told me that my books helped them escape the fear, grief and anxiety they were dealing with at the time. Some had lost family members to violence. Some were writing while in the distance they could hear explosions, gunfire, and the launching of rockets. They used my books as a way to escape into another world, where the monsters were fictional, and where demigods usually saved the day. While I am always glad that my books can help young readers find joy during difficult times, my heart breaks every time I hear about the things they have to deal with. I am grief-stricken by the horrific events now unfolding, especially because I know that they are part of a long historic pattern that has been robbing too many children of their childhood and perpetuating hatred for far too long.

I am also quite aware that when anyone, myself included, tries to speak about this issue, the reader is waiting to pounce, thinking, “Yes, but whose side are you on?” That is exactly the wrong question. If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing. Dehumanizing has a long evil history. It is appealing and easy to buy into, because humans are tribal animals. We are hardwired to think in terms of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ We are the real humans, the good guys, the ones with God on our side. Those other people are evil monsters who don’t deserve empathy. Hate mongers have thrived on dehumanizing for as long as there have been humans. It provides them with a purpose, a way to rally support, power, and scapegoats. It is easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies.

Humanitarianism is a much harder sell. It requires us to empathize, to see other groups of people as equally deserving of dignity and quality of life. It requires not always putting ourselves and our needs first. But in the long run, humanitarianism is our only hope. If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to “those other people” once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does.

So yes, I am appalled by the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians. I am appalled by the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. Both things can be true. Both things must be true. My thoughts are with all the people who have died, who have lost loved ones, who have had their worlds and their lives shattered, especially the children. More death and violence will not break this cycle, which has been going on for generations. There is no military solution. Even since I first wrote the post, only twenty-four hours ago, the Israeli government’s brutal retaliation against the entire population of Gaza has reached genocidal proportions. This is not only an atrocity. It is folly. Answering misery with misery only creates more fertile ground for extremism, dehumanizing the “other side,” letting hate mongers thrive, stay in power, and reduce us all to our most monstrous impulses. The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.

Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them.

What can I do? I will continue to write books that I hope will give young readers some joy. I will resist the urge to demonize entire groups of people. I will call for less violence, not more violence. And when asked whose side I am on, I will tell you I am on the side of humanitarianism.

So with that said, I return to the world of books . . .

honestly, if you have a problem with this statement, it’s probably because he’s talking about you. this is exactly what legitimate activists (as in not just random westerners who share social media posts but on-the-ground activists who are doing real work) have been saying for decades. and i think all this really speaks to just how disconnected a lot of westerners who claim to be pro palestinian are from those activists.

if you can’t read a statement that says “i am on the side of humanitarianism and less violence” without immediately jumping to cancel them, you are the problem being discussed in the above statement.

#ip

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autistichalsin · 1 month

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Some of my favorite, understated moments with heartbreaking implications for Halsin

1. Halsin threatening to turn into a mouse in the epilogue if the player brags about his achievements- he's so shy and humble that just being acknowledged for LITERALLY BUILDING A COMMUNE HIMSELF makes him want to hide. A mouse is a very symbolic choice here: not only easy to hide, but also easily overlooked and forgotten. The idea of his accomplishments being acknowledged is so terrifying for him that he wants to turn into an animal no one will notice, instead of his usual strong, large, noticeable bear.

2. "Sometimes, I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt." This isn't the kind of thing that happens after one or two people act like jerks. This is years and years of cruel treatment, of his emotions being demeaned and mocked because of his size. Of people judging him before even meeting him- and forming an entirely wrong view of him. Halsin is a bighearted, tender, sentimental man, yet because he's big... Well, big people don't have feelings, surely. /s

3. "You and I may struggle to go unnoticed in such environs, Karlach[...] Folk of our stature can be a lure for drunkards seeking a brawl, I have found," combined with, "There is a particular discomfort to besting one you know to be weaker than yourself - even when needs must," from a different scene. People have sought him out and fought him because of his size (which had to have been terrifying, especially the first time), and he feels guilty when he takes out someone he knows is weaker, even if they STARTED it. How many times has the poor guy been traveling and then had to defend himself against someone 1/2 his size, making HIM look like the asshole to onlookers, and reinforcing that whole "people think I can't be hurt" thing?

4. "It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..." (About the players' paths diverging post brain battle), combined with "I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless," if the player breaks up with him in the ending. This poor guy was having the time of his life adventuring with the group (and possibly falling in love there) yet never believed it would truly last (because of his abandonment issues). And then to have it confirmed.... he must have felt so awful in that moment, even if he was being dignified about it.

5. "You came for me... thank you. I feared Orin's accursed smile would be the very last sight I beheld," when Halsin is freed from Orin, combined with, "Orin's blades. I hoped my friends would save me..." If he is killed by Orin instead and Speak With the Dead is used on his corpse. The tone of his voice in the first line, especially added to that bit in the second... he never thought the player was coming to save him. He HOPED they would. Not "believed". Hoped. He thought he was going to die there- just like how he was in the Underdark for THREE YEARS and no one came to save him. And if it's confirmed... Yeah. That. (Sidenote: if you ask his corpse if he has any regrets, he says not telling Thaniel and Oliver goodbye, and not getting to see their land flourish. :( My heart. :( )

6. "I... have not had true confidantes for some time. The Shadow Curse robbed me of almost all my peers, and replaced them with the weight of responsibility. Perhaps that caused me to gild undeserving memories of my youth." Halsin was so miserable and stressed being Archdruid that he romanticized his past as a sex slave, viewing it as a safer, even happier alternative. There were actually times when Halsin thought he might rather be a sex slave than continue to be Archdruid. In a sense, for the 100 years the Shadow Curse was around, Halsin was just as much a prisoner as Thaniel was in the Shadowfell, but Halsin's prison had invisible bars. The Shadow Curse took away his entire support system, and being Archdruid forced him to be the strong one, always, never allowed to be weak or scared, forced him to take control of situations when he hated it, forced him to spend his time sorting out people instead of being in nature. And he was MISERABLE. For 100 years.

7. "You understand me almost perfectly. Only my late mother may have bested you." (Said if you get one question wrong at the love dryad test). He misses his mama. :( Especially when you consider that if you steal Balthazar's "Mother Dearest" and taunt him about it, Halsin disapproves (and is the only one to do so), while returning her gets you approval (which only Halsin approves of). And then the line when you look into a mirror while controlling him, "more like my father, with each passing day..." He really misses them. :(

8. "I am loathe to see anyone behind bars. It reminds me of my time as a guest of the goblins." He is, secretly, still quite traumatized from his time in the goblin pens, but he brushes it off. Just like every OTHER time he is hurt.

9. "I am aware [of having a habit of getting captured]. Perhaps I put too much faith in my skills of negotiation, or want to see good where there is none. It would be easy to resort to nature's fury whenever something stood in my way, yet I cannot help but feel I would be sullying the Oak Father's gifts. Naive perhaps... but I still draw breath." Halsin is aware he gets hurt often because of his desire to see good in people until he has no other choice, but refuses to give up anyway (which is backed up by that letter Gut had on her where she reveals Halsin TRIED to help the goblins, saying he could cure them of their tadpoles, only to be thrown in the cage, with Gut threatening to have his stomach cut open and maggots placed inside it.) Further, even though he is an Archdruid, and one of the most devoted, and explicitly has Silvanus's favor (Halsin says that gaining his favor was the only way he was able to open the portal to the Shadowfell), he still constantly worries about using Silvanus's powers, to the point of wondering if an actual threat to his safety actually merits using his powers. Which... combined with some other stuff, reads like one hell of a problem with self-worth.

10. "At least you were not present. Grim as [the ruined battlefield] is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory[...] I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost" combined with, "I was [present when the Shadow Curse was unleashed]. Part of my spirit was shorn away from me here, and never left," and, if Last Light falls, "All gone... devoured by the shadows. Oak Father preserve us, it's just like a hundred years ago[...] We are [still standing]. Yet there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time." He has so much PTSD and survivor guilt from the Shadow Curse. :( No wonder it's all he can think about- to the point that some of the other companions even get annoyed at him for his obsession.

11. "I never quite realised how burdened I was, until I met you. The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the grove... I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you." Not only does this tie in with the above, with his PTSD from the curse and his utter misery at being Archdruid, but this HEAVILY implies Halsin had depression. Like... that "fog" line hits HARD if you have or have had depression, because that's exactly what it feels like. And the "forgetting who I was" bit too. Not just losing his sense of self to the depression, but to the neverending responsibilities of being Archdruid. I keep repeating myself, but damn, this guy has really and truly spent an entire century being absolutely MISERABLE. :(

12. "Forgive me. I... lost the run of myself. Sometimes, if blood runs hot enough, it's difficult to tame the beast." With that little disgusted groan/sigh, the fury and disgust at himself visible on his face, and the way he rushes to get out the rest of it- he thinks he fucked up so badly that you're about to leave him, maybe forever. And then if you reject him after this? "Ah... I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then." He has the most heartbroken look on his face here, and the way he says "of course" like he just... knew this was coming the instant he accidentally wildshaped. He felt that the first time he let ANY of his imperfections show, the player would leave him. :(

13. "Death is nature's final slumber - it awaits us all. Do not punish yourself over those lost, or give in to despair - not while there are still folk in need of your help." (Said to a Dark Urge if they tell him they're not much of a hero and most people needing them end up dead) Not only is Halsin speaking from experience here, but it's very clear he is STILL doing exactly what he tells Durge not to do, to himself- punishing himself over those who were lost, struggling with devastating survivor guilt.

14. "The grove has cut itself off from the world, to jealously guard its own little pocket of nature. No one shall ever enter or leave again. And I have been evicted from the very place I was charged to safeguard. A telling summary of my time as Archdruid, perhaps..." If the Grove is sealed and you ask him about it later, this is what he says. Interesting that he views being evicted from the place he was in charge of protecting to be a "telling summary." He was forced to take the leadership role there, and yet it was clear he wasn't wanted or respected by a great number of the Druids (exempting Nettie, Rath, and Apikusis). He got a truly thankless job that took damn near EVERYTHING from him emotionally/mentally, causing him to develop depression and causing him to backslide in his previous healing from his trauma from his time as a sex slave, he still gave EVERYTHING to the Grove, and in return...... almost none of his Druids appreciated or even liked him. (I could seriously write at least five metas about how obviously miserable Halsin was at the Grove, despite caring for it deeply).

15. "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me." Said at the epilogue to a solo romanced player who went to the commune with him. There's so many layers of heartbreak here. He is still surprised, six months later, that the player chose him. He even thinks the player will regret it, and will decide they want an adventurer's life after all after seeing everyone else. He doesn't think he is good enough- doesn't think he deserves the player, and yet at the same time he loves them so much that he is heartbroken over the possibility they might agree with him. He thinks that given a chance, there is little chance they would actually choose him again. (He is put at ease quickly when the player promises they picked him for a reason, but even the explanation he gives for why he was so worrie is heartbreaking- that he's so used to a tumultuous life that he thinks something must go wrong. He has been so traumatized so many times over the years that he just has almost no ability to think that true happiness is possible [or deserved] for him.) Something about that is just heartbreaking, even though his ending is one of the happiest of any of the companions.

Someone give this sweet bear man a hug, please :(

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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itsbuckytm · 5 months

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Cherry Red / Coriolanus Snow

summary : Snow had always harbored a liking for you, and your awareness of the platonic relationship with Sejanus only fueled his obsession, eventually culminating in decisions like appointing you as the First Lady of Panem. Just two pretty bestfriends both in awe by your beauty.

I apologize for any grammar errors as English is not my first language. Additionally, please refrain from copying my work without proper credit, as it may result in being flagged. Thank you!

How does one begin to describe this innocent youth, who simply wished for Panem to thrive in tranquility? Fate thrust him into the shadows of the reaping ceremony or the role of a mentor due to his father's actions. Despite being fully aware that survival in the Games was improbable, he, like many of his peers, managed to mask his fear, a skill he lacked. It was on that fateful day that he first laid eyes on you.

You served as his mentor, a role you assumed without the same coercion he experienced. Unlike him, you had the choice to either be a mentor or a regular student at the Academy. Yet, recognizing that being among the select few who would secure a favorable position in the university and potentially pave the way for a brighter future for your family, you saw it as the least profitable option you could contribute. Even if it meant overseeing the fate of a stranger, your assigned tribute, in a perilous game of cat and mouse.

During the inaugural week of the Games, you found yourself alongside Sejanus as you met your assigned tributes. Despite Sejanus displaying a sense of conscience regarding the circumstances and grappling with the notion of witnessing another species confined in a cage, he observed closely as you tended to your tribute. From that pivotal moment onward, each day saw him adopting a similar approach—nurturing his tribute, attending to their well-being, and primarily focusing on their strengths, all while harboring his internal opposition to the entire ordeal.

You were the one who comforted him in the aftermath of the accident following the memorial for Arachne. While he was paying tribute to his deceased classmate, Snow instructed you to remove Sejanus from the scene. He, too, attempted to cling to her in a desperate effort to preserve her life, but it was already too late. With your guidance, advising Sejanus to shift his focus away from the crime scene, he found solace when you encouraged him to breathe and exhale. You assured him that everything would be okay.

After that initial encounter with him, he underwent a profound transformation, growing closer to you. Your attentive check-ins during rehearsals, reminiscent of his mother's caring presence, played a significant role in this connection. Even stolen glances in class became a source of solace for him, helping maintain his sanity amidst the chaos of the Hunger Games, a veritable freak show.

You were well aware of his strong opposition to the idea. Despite enduring his complaints, you consistently reassured him that the popularity was just a temporary phase until graduation, and the Capitol would soon move on and forget. However, it turns out you were terribly mistaken. Despite the misjudgment, you believed it was the best you could do at the time.

Fortunately, your relationship gradually deepened over time, even though you hadn't experienced the concept of falling in love. In a world where survival was commonplace in Panem, the notion of allowing oneself to fall in love seemed as ironic as it was rare. Despite attempting to suppress any burgeoning emotions for Sejanus, his softened gaze upon seeing you and the way he spoke your name with such warmth made it increasingly challenging. This, in turn, fueled suspicion from his friend Snow, who seemed to resent him more, suspecting Sejanus's potential feelings for you. Eventually, it became inevitable that you acknowledged and accepted your emotions toward Sejanus, whether they remained platonic or evolved into something more; the signs were undeniably clear. And Snow hated every bit of it.

Certainly, rumors circulated throughout the Academy, fueled by the idea that someone as intelligent as you could outsmart even the wealthiest family, such as the Plinth. However, it wasn't until a few days before the commencement of the 10th Hunger Games that the scrutiny from your classmates' watchful eyes compelled you to hide your relationship in shame. You outgrew the stares, until finally implied official a mark to the relationship, all by holding Sejanus's hand with pride. The poor boy, initially taken aback by your sudden display of affection, was well aware of your usual reluctance towards public displays of emotion. Despite this, he began to grasp that your actions spoke of genuine love. It became increasingly evident that the sentiment was more than mutual.

The aftermath of the Hunger Games told a different tale. Sejanus's emotional breakdown during the games hinted that his involvement was driven by a sense of altruism. However, many of your classmates, including yourself, emerged from the ordeal seemingly unscathed. It was as if you all were like minions, compliant in a sick and twisted game, a game where refusal meant facing death the very next day. The turning point came when you witnessed Sejanus screaming helplessly, condemning the Capitol as "sick monsters." His tear-filled eyes and desperate plea were a stark warning. You felt his gaze fixed on you, but this time, it carried a profound sense of hatred—a gaze that lingered ever since that fateful day. In Sejanus's eyes, you had become a monster, and he was painfully right.

When Lucy Gray Baird was declared the victor of the 10th Hunger Games, Snow couldn't help but notice the shift in the dynamics of the relationship you had once shared with Sejanus. Despite his previous disdain for Sejanus, Snow's animosity towards his District 2 classmate intensified as he observed the unwavering focus of your eyes on him. You managed to hold back your tears, unlike Sejanus, burst into a complete symphony of a manic episode. Snow recognized that upon his return as a Peacekeeper, that he would make it his priority to take care of you. To Sejanus’s request if he didn’t make it out.

Sejanus was acutely aware of his impending fate, discerning the emotions in your eyes as you fought to contain your tears—an act you were often admonished for in the harsh realms of reality and sorrow. A palpable distance had grown between you, and he acknowledged that he deserved every bit of it. However, when the news broke that he, too, was joining the Peacekeepers, you couldn't resist bidding him a final farewell. As the departure approached, Snow spotted you, witnessing the emotional exchange with his own eyes.

He observed you shedding tears for another man, a sight that must have stung his pride. Despite the limited display of affection, there were undeniable traces of your past love for Sejanus. "I'll be a good boy." Sejanus would assure, and as you cupped his face, a rare moment of genuine closeness enveloped you. It was one of the first times you truly felt connected to him, and you yearned to grant him a farewell kiss, recognizing that this might be the last time you'd see him. "I'll keep your picture close with me... Even if you hate me so—" Sejanus began, but you swiftly cut him off, desperately emphasizing that any perceived hatred was rooted in self-centeredness. "I never hated you, Sejanus. Remember that."

"I will." Came Sejanus's response without a hint of hesitation, and just before he departed, he sought a final taste of your lips. This act served as the last straw for Snow, tempting him to announce that it was time for duty, that he too would soon be called to fulfill his responsibilities. However, he resisted the urge. Instead, he chose to observe what it felt like to be genuinely in love, watching the two lovebirds share their final goodbyes. Though deeply haunted by the realization that Snow wasn't your sole choice, the haunting thoughts accompanied him throughout the journey back to District 12. Snow yearned to make Sejanus prove to whom you truly belonged, finding some solace in the benefits of the situation—until Sejanus's impending death sentence, that is.

You received word of Sejanus's death while in the Capitol. On that particular day, you joined Sejanus's mother for dinner, a comforting routine that helped alleviate the absence of her son, engaged in his duties away. Despite her earlier tendency to downplay her husband's concerns for their child, she now comprehended the profound emotions you were experiencing mere weeks after Sejanus's departure. It was a moment of revelation for her when she looked into the eyes of her own child, realizing that her husband had been the true villain all along.

Later that same evening, you started clearing the table when you heard the official news. A Panem Peacekeeper had arrived at your apartment. For some inexplicable reason, an ominous feeling gripped you, signaling that something had happened to Sejanus. Questions swirled in your mind—was he injured, or had homesickness prompted his return? However, any hopeful optimism quickly turned to tears as Sejanus's mother's anguished scream echoed in your thoughts. The heartbreaking truth emerged: Sejanus had passed away. The official explanation cited him as a simple rebel, but you suspected a much darker reality. Sejanus wasn't merely a rebel; he was someone the Capitol despised, refusing any association with their ideologies.

The Plinth family arranged a formal funeral for their son, and while you had hoped for an invitation, you only learned about it through consequential rumors. Thanks to Tigris, who had the opportunity to style Sejanus's mother for her new job as a stylist, you were surprised to discover the disgraceful rumors circulating about your family. It was suggested that you had manipulated Sejanus to bend to your will, driven by your ambitions in the Games and an unbridled willingness to perpetuate a sick and twisted narrative for another year.

According to this narrative, you were deemed no different from the rest—a citizen with psychotic tendencies, adorned in the veneer of fake affluence. These rumors reached Snow as he returned calls to Tigris back home, he wanted some update about you. Know how you were doing, as Tigris before hand had your confirmation that she would tell what had happened. Which provided a simple yet substantial reasons for his disdain towards the Plinth family from the very beginning, not only due to their subjective opinions but also their newfound hatred towards you.

Upon returning to his role as a Peacekeeper, Snow found greater delight in seeing you. As you had gradually gained acceptance to the university yourself, securing a personal apartment became a challenging endeavor. The recent imposition of a new tax by the Plinth family added to the financial strain, making it doubly difficult to cover your university expenses. Fortunately, Tigris stepped in to assist, swiftly helping you secure a job. A renowned cabaret in the Capitol was in need of entertainers, and although hesitant to showcase your body for money, you recognized it as a necessary option. Fortunately, your employer treated the dancers well, and as long as you were able to pay your bills, he harbored no objections. Over time, you even developed a group of favorite regular customers.

The streets of the Capitol had changed since his arrival. Not only had his hair grown, but wearing his father's wealth, symbolized by a stupid coat, had also demonstrated a newfound influence. Snow made sure to flaunt this affluence. The prospect of returning to the university and seeing you again mattered most to him. However, it wasn't until that particular evening when he decided to stop by your apartment that he noticed your absence. Puzzled, he thought to himself, as it was typically your time to prepare dinner or watch local television. Surveying the surroundings for any clue to your whereabouts, he recalled that his cousin Tigris had briefly mentioned something about you being the talk of the town lately. This revelation prompted Snow to consider searching the deeper and less savory streets of Panem for answers.

It didn't take him long; as soon as the sun set and the lights of Panem's stores illuminated the streets, he spotted a poster. There, your face stared back at him, unmistakably you. "Cherry Red this afternoon! 9 PM!" Proclaimed the bold red and gold font, showcasing your entire body. Snow couldn't believe it—let alone fathom the idea of other men being captivated by you. Nevertheless, he entered.

True to the promise, only the least affluent men in Panem and fellow Peacekeepers populated the bar. It being a Friday evening meant people were there to unwind and prepare for the weekend. Snow found himself struck by the stark contrast between his own downfall and the impoverished part of the Capitol. Despite the surroundings, he couldn't help but marvel at the luxury and lifelike atmosphere of the cabaret. Soon, other dancers spotted him, offering drinks or suggesting a little show, but he declined, asserting that he was there only for you, using your stage name, Cherry Red.

Fortunately, he arrived just in time for your performance. With a man who wore outfits reminiscent of Flickerman noticed Snow's arrival, sporting a somewhat absurd demeanor. Cheeks flushed, a clear sign of pre-show indulgence, he exclaimed each word of your name with awe and pride. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight, we have someone we love so much right here at Pub Rouge. It is none other than our favorite, Cherry Red!"

Snow uncomfortably fell in line with the predominantly male clientele. Hearing "Ladies and Gentlemen." Was just one of the few flaws in the cabaret that he would have corrected if given the chance. To avoid arousing suspicions, he simply followed along, clapping like everyone else. However, rather than voicing your name in a distasteful manner, Snow quietly waited for your performance.

The room filled with the vibrant sounds of the band and trumpets as you gracefully took the stage. Your outfit perfectly mirrored your name—bold and red as cherries. For those observant enough, it seemed as if Snow intentionally coordinated his attire to match yours. You immersed yourself in the character, embodying the woman you intended to be. The men of your age exhibited a mix of pride and envy, further boosting your confidence. Your playful interactions, especially teasing one of the Peacekeepers, earned you considerable admiration, much to Snow's chagrin. He overheard some background chatter about you, with phrases like. "I'd be with her anytime. Have you seen her curves? If I were the lucky guy, I'd do everything to show her who she belongs to."

That fueled Snow with an intense anger, a boiling rage that churned within him. Fortunately, he managed to contain himself, sitting just far enough away to avoid you spotting him in the moment. However, his composure shattered when another voice crossed the line. "With that beautiful pair of lips, I bet she'd be a nice little whore and can take my big ass dick!" Laughter erupted, and though you were accustomed to such comments in the typically crowded environment, Snow, unable to restrain himself, swiftly delivered a punch to the man's face. Snow had completely lost his composure. As the scuffle continued, with the brawl escalating to a level one out of five, you were being escorted away. It was then that you noticed Snow's figure amidst the chaos.

"Coryo..." You murmured softly, as one of your colleagues attempted to escort you backstage. You complied with the act and tried to move, but upon catching his gaze after you called out his name, it took only seconds for Snow to be brought in, obliging even to be outside the hub before long. As he was pushed outside, one of the onlookers cursed under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned! If I see that guy again, he'll surely get a punch from me!" With his friends trying to calm the angered Peacekeeper down, he observed as you were escorted back, remarking, "I sense that someone had a little vulnerability over Cherry's presence."

Snow hadn't left entirely. In fact, he made sure to stay until the bar was ready to close. As he observed the group of Peacekeepers, memories of his own time in that role surfaced. They reminded him of the Peacekeepers in the Districts—little pieces of trouble, he'd openly declare if given the chance. Fortunately, you didn't have any bruises; in fact, you were so distraught that your colleague helped clean your makeup and took care of you. "My god, Y/N. What could've possibly happened there if you had intervened?" She questioned. Even you hated the fact that she was right; who knew what might have occurred if you had tried to break up the fight and ended up taking the punch meant for the Peacekeeper. You were well aware that Snow wouldn't easily excuse himself after this incident.

By patiently waiting at the backdoor of the cabaret, he caught sight of another escort he had noticed earlier, who swiftly disappeared inside. He wasn't trespassing; rather, he was trying to reunite with you. Explanations could wait; for now, he wanted you all to himself, to taste your lips and be the one to incite jealousy among the Peacekeepers. Skillfully, he found his way backstage, drawing uncertain glances from ladies younger than you. They hesitated, contemplating whether to alert their boss about the intruder. It wasn't until he spotted you from a distance that even your colleague, who had taken care of you, noticed his presence enough to understand that it was her cue. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.” She said with her typical southern accent, and as soon as she was about to leave stop herself next to Snow. “Sir.” And bowed before leaving.

On the other hand, you hastily adjusted your robe to cover your skin. Quickly, you applied the remaining red lipstick, swiftly cleaning the messy edges, assuming it was your boss's presence prompting the need for an explanation or reassurance that you were okay. However, as soon as you turned your head to see who it truly was, your eyes widened in shock. It felt almost too surreal, as if you had seen a ghost. "Coryo?" was all you could say.

How he had missed you calling him by his nickname. Even though you had been in a relationship with Sejanus before, it was all thanks to being close to Tigris that you adopted the habit of using his nickname, something he cherished every time it left your lips. Particularly because none of his classmates, let alone his closest friends, used it. "What is this?" He questioned, his eyes scanning everything—from the booth to you, with a hint of disgust, shame. "Why didn't you tell me—" He felt a sense of sorrow, realizing he hadn't provided you with enough wealth, let alone a clean lifestyle. Tonight, he vowed to make a change soon.

"Blame the Plinth." You uttered, attempting to push aside memories of Sejanus and your first love, concealing them as best as you could. Snow couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at the irony, recognizing that he, too, intended to make them pay for it all—every little bit. And in this endeavor, he envisioned you by his side. "I've missed you, you know." You continued, and to Snow's relief, he admitted the same. Perhaps, just maybe, a little too much.

"You have no idea how much I missed you too, sweetheart." He expressed, closing the distance between you. He kneeled, and even his piercing blue eyes softened as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. His finger gently traced your blushed cheek, the heavy makeup unable to conceal your undying beauty. "How about we go home? Together."

"Home?" You tilted your head slightly, doing your best to restrain your tears at his request. Despite the history of your relationship—from being a stranger to a friend and now a soulmate. "How—?" He nervously gulped, appearing confident in his words yet afraid to witness you in that emotional state. A state where money and selling your body didn't align with the image he wanted to see. "Because I'll do my best to take care of you." He assured, keeping his words simple yet sincere.

"Home. A place to finally be yourself. No trouble, no feeling of doubt within your own self." And with that, you simply dissolved into tears, nodding in response to his confession. "Please," You begged, yearning for him, longing to feel his lips like you did with Sejanus back in the days. But this time, it felt genuinely true. Was this what true love really felt like? "Kiss me." There was no hesitation as Snow's lips instantly met yours in a hungry and passionate kiss, an expression of love since the very beginning.

And in that very moment, Snow realized all too well that you had become his Lady. Not any kind of lady but the First Lady of Panem.

Y/N, Snow.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x y/n #president snow x reader #coryo #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagines #coriolanus snow imagines #hunger games imagines #sejanus plinth #sejanus x reader

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botanicalsword · 5 months

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Moon signs ✧ how they behave

✧ ✧ ✧

>> Part II

Moon in Aries

They respond quickly and passionately to situations and want instant satisfaction. They like being the first to get involved in a situation. When they’re close to someone, they tend to be harsh and easily lose their temper with family members. Their impatience also shows up when it comes to money matters.

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Moon in Taurus

They are steady, practical, and don't get easily angry. They don't like change, need financial security, and can attract a lot of money and a comfortable life. They really enjoy living in a comfortable home, but they can become lazy once they're there. They don't often experience poor lifestyle. They know how to handle resources carefully and practically, therefore they can keep wealth for a long time.

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Moon in Gemini

They go through different emotions and feelings, can easily adapt and feel restless. They are curious about what others think and feel, and they can be easily influenced by things happening around them. They are always mentally and physically occupied.

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Moon in Cancer

They strongly and naturally desire comfort, closeness, and a feeling of safety and protection from the outside world and the people around them. They enjoy old furniture and antiques, and they have a sentimental connection to various old items. Their sense of security is tied to nostalgia, and they have a deep emotional attachment to old objects that cannot be easily broken.

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Moon in Leo

These individuals often have a high opinion of themselves and enjoy receiving attention and admiration from others. They strongly desire recognition, acknowledgment, and gratitude. They enjoy spending money to bring themselves happiness, rather than seeking praise from others. They have a strong sense of self-confidence and make bold and assertive investments.

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Moon in Virgo

People with this placement tend to be humble, gentle, and attentive to the needs of others, offering help when necessary. They are highly sensitive to criticism and have been suppressing their emotions for a long time. This makes it challenging for them to express their true feelings, as they try to conceal their inner vulnerability. Consequently, this can create emotional barriers in intimate relationships.

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Moon in Libra

They have a distaste for rough and impulsive behaviors. When the Moon is in this position, it signifies grace, social abilities, and a charismatic personality. They strongly dislike any kind of discord or disharmony. They are highly fearful of arguments and conflicts. They excel in finding compromises and setting aside their ego, but once a limit is crossed, there is no going back.

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Moon in Scorpio

They have a strong inclination to actively engage in current affairs and relationships. They approach life with enthusiasm and focus. They have experienced a childhood filled with intense emotions, which has led to the development of a heightened sixth sense. This allows them to directly perceive the thoughts of others. They possess a sense of ownership when it comes to emotions, although they do not seek to control others' actions. They possess the ability to sense whether or not someone is being deceptive towards them.

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Moon in Sagittarius

They are energetic, proactive, and open-minded individuals with a free-spirited nature. They genuinely interact with others, without hidden agendas, and strive to explore a wider world. Their priority is to find meaning and purpose in everything they undertake. While they may not have overly gentle, delicate, or empathetic personalities, they are also not socially awkward. They are very lucky and hold a strong belief that tomorrow will bring improvement, even when faced with setbacks.

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Moon in Capricorn

They highly regard rationality, desire respect, and exemplify self-discipline as role models. They find comfort in having a sense of control. During their youth, they lacked maternal affection, which has made them very conservative in managing their finances. They frequently felt that they didn't have enough money, so they are extremely cautious when it comes to spending. Their sense of security is derived from tangible savings and real estate.

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Moon in Aquarius

They are amiable and enjoy socializing, but they exhibit a sense of emotional detachment. They are emotionally independent, composed, and inclined to seek truth and make rational decisions. They can come across as emotionally cold and distant, which allows them to be self-reliant in their emotions. However, they may struggle to form deep emotional bonds with others naturally.

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Moon in Pisces

They are highly susceptible to external influences and may tend to see the world in an overly positive light. They possess a vivid imagination and a profound yearning for spirituality and romance. They dislike being confined or constrained. They have a strong sense of empathy and can be easily moved by emotions. They might also make impulsive investment decisions driven by their emotions. While they may not excel in practical service, they frequently offer emotional support and willingly lend an ear to others' worries.

>> qualities of partner that they are in search of

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>> Back to Masterlist ✧ Explicit Content

Quick Access to : ❥ Astro / Asteroid Indicators ❥ Synastry / Composite Chart Observations ❥ House Stellium Observations ❥ Astro basic info / Brief reads ❥ Asteroid database ❥ Personal studies ✧ spiritual journal

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murdrdocs · 3 months

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dark content; ghostface!luke; explicit sexual content; MDNI

you have your suspicions that luke castellan isn't the man he portrays himself to be.

beneath his mournful gaze, woven between his sorrowful words, you're so sure that luke is insincere. his words of condolences to other campers lack a certain depth. his motivational speeches, always on the topic of remaining brave in the face of fear that these tragic incidents are creating, are disingenuous.

it's only natural that you have to investigate.

sneaking out past curfew on nights you weren't patrolling, offering to take up someone else's shift or just being there to provide a second set of eyes. but not on the scenery. on him.

because you're fairly certain that the monster isn't coming from outside of camp.

eventually you catch him standing in the center of the strawberry field facing away from you, swinging his sword as if the weapon is simply attached to his arm, the infamous mask described by others sticking out of his back pocket for you to notice.

you've seen luke fight. he's trained you in combat. you know that if he wanted to kill you, he would barely have any trouble doing so.

you would put up a good fight, but you would end up on your knees, waiting for the fatal blow.

is that why you don't bother fighting in the first place? or is it for some sicker, more sinister reason?

you like to think that your lack of resistance derives from knowing deep down that it would have failed. but it's hard not to consider the other implications whenever luke is smirking down at you, holding the weapon he affectionately introduced as backbiter to your neck, and your blood is rushing to places it shouldn't be.

your limbs should be taking most of the blood flood, creating a vibration in your legs and arms that would get you out of this situation quickly if need be. instead, your blood has rushed to your center, creating a thump! thump! that luke's hand—cupping your mound under your bottoms and above your panties—definitely can feel.

confirming your suspicions, luke's eyebrows furrows as he speaks. "is that?..."

your throat dries out. your nostrils flare as you take a sharp inhale designed to disguise the way you urge to roll your eyes back when luke starts to rub his hand along your center.

"are you turned on right now?"

the way he says it is so fucking cruel, but you honestly can't blame him.

it's deplorable, your behavior. your head tipped back not only to attempt to avoid the sharp tip of luke's blade against your jugular, but also because luke's fingers pumping in and out of you is so sinfully delicious.

here, in the middle of the field, surrounded by strawberries with the scent wafting to your nose with every gust of wind, you hope that the wind doesn't carry your noises.

the two of you are only lit by the torches off in the distance and the moonlight up above, providing a shameful spotlight onto your bodies. one standing strong and tall, shoulders pushed back with assurance and horrifying confidence making his gaze hard as he stares at you over the slope of his nose. and the other, slumped over with your head resting on luke's shoulder as an orgasm forces itself through your body.

it's wrong to curl up in the arms of a killer. it's idiotic to feel safe there.

backbiter has been stabbed into the dirt, sticking up straight, and with his freed hand luke cups the back of your head, stroking the area while his fingers replicate a similar motion in your panties.

"sh, it's okay, just let it happen, angel," he tells you, voice a rough whisper.

(does his voice sound deeper, or is that your subconscious acknowledging his sins?)

"i know you're feeling guilty, being with someone like me." he chuckles dryly as your orgasm fades out. "but it's okay. i promise you. i won't hurt you."

you know you shouldn't believe his words. but this is luke, the guy you at least thought you could trust with your life.

you do know you can trust him to give you a good orgasm, as his fingers refuse to stop within you, the digits picking up speed despite your feeble protests in the form of wobbly words.

#lukesworld!#ghostface!luke #celeste writes pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut

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buckybarnesb-tch · 11 months

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Alpha!Daemon Targaryen meets his Omega

The king had taken you in upon realizing that you were an Omega.

You were the daughter of Vaemond though he would never acknowledge you as his as you were just a bastard, though you were also the first Targaryen offspring of any kind that was an Omega in nearly 100 years. There were a few Alphas such as Daemon and Corlys but no Omegas.

Viserys ensured you were given the best education possible (considering you didn’t present until you were 14 and had lived as an orphan until then) and kept you close with constant guards, unwilling to risk a rouge Beta deciding that fucking a Targaryen Omega would be fun.

You became quite close with Rhaenyra and neither of you was usually seen without the other. You had arrived in the palace after being found by a guard in the street only about 2 weeks after the beginning of Daemons war in the step stones.

You had been told plenty about Daemon by your best friend who admitted she had had a little crush on him before falling in love with Ser Harwin Strong. You wondered quite a bit about the rouge Prince but for the most part you put it out of your mind.

You didn’t meet Daemon until 3 years later, you had settled into being a lady and for the most part gotten a handle on life in the capital, so of course someone would show up and turn it on its head. The smell washed over you almost instantly as he knelt down before the king, handing over his make-shift crown and you froze. You had always been tense around Alphas, it’s just common sense when you’re an Omega, especially one without any kind of defense training which you didn’t have since you had guards at all times but you do wish you could feel safer in knowing you could protect yourself, at least a little bit.

His scent though…it washed over you in waves and you were overcome by the rush of calm and need your Alphas scent delivered you. He was in the middle of hugging his brother when his body went stiff and you knew he smelled you too.

“Help?” You whispered to Rhaenyra, her looking over you and realizing what was happening fast.

“Are you sure? It could only be-“

“Your Omega brother! This is wonderful! Y/n is the only Omega in the castle, where are you child?” Rhaenyra pulled you down and through the side door, having avoided the guards who were listening to Damon’s shocking news.

“You do know you can’t avoid him, right? Daemon is…tenacious to say the least.” She teased and you smiled a bit as you both quickly made your way outside and into the gardens.

“I understand but I don’t want all of those people watching like it is their own affair.”

If anyone understood you in the world it was her, for the most part at least. You were only alone in the Godswood for about 5 minutes before you heard footsteps and looked up to see her father walking towards you with a battalion of guards.

“Go, it’s okay. Get back to your room, you’ll be safer there than anywhere else. I’ll handle my father, go!” She pushed you and you stumbled back before running through the bushes of flowers and trees, only just having looked back to see if she had followed when you plowed into a firm, hard body.

“You must be Y/n.” He spoke and you nodded your head cautiously, taking a step back but his face softened. “Don’t be frightened. I know my reputation but no harm will ever befall you while I am here lovely Omega.” His face was smirking but the thrumming bond that snapped in place the second you smelled each other was weighing down on you, pushing you to relax. “I mean what I say, you are safe my sweet Byka rūklon. I am your protector now.” (Little Flower)

He held out his arm, I suppose trying to be less intimidating and I enjoyed it quite a bit having heard the tales of Daemon Targaryen, rider of Caraxes. Everyone said that you couldn’t help but feel fear when he stared down at you, an intimidating presence to say the least but all I felt from him in that moment was adoration. I took his arm after a brief pause and he smiled, his face relieving itself of that signature smirk and led me back to the castle. “Oh Good! You’ve found her brother.” The king spoke as he stood by the door with my guards who moved to stand behind me before Daemon stopped them.

“You two have been relieved of your duties.” They looked stunned for a second but given that its Daemon that said if they quickly took off before he decided to have their heads removed from their bodies for standing too close to me.

“Brother? You can’t possibly think you can protect her alone, you have duties to-“

“I very well could protect her alone! However I will choose guards to stay with her who won’t lose her in a throne room whenever she decides to go for a walk. I need men far less stupid and I will appoint them when we return to Dragonstone to marry. You’ll love it there Byka rūklon, I promise you. Let us go, the flight will take about 6 hours.”

“You’re leaving already? Daemon, don’t you think-“

“I would like to marry my Omega as soon as possible, you understand that brother. Nothing that need be too planned, we will marry in the ways of our ancestors. I will wait until you and Rhaenyra can be there, I’m sure my Omega wants her friend there, don’t you Byka rūklon?” I nodded quickly.

“Please? It would feel wrong without her…Alpha.” I added Alpha at the end, seeing how much he longed for it by the look on his face.

“Anything you want, always.” Daemon pulled me close to his chest, kissing my head and I welcomed the comfort he now delivered me, his scent flooding my senses and effecting me greatly. “Will you bring her things for her my dear niece? It will be greatly appreciated.” I could tell Daemon was rushing as he began moving again and I knew how much he hated these people and this place, pulling me towards the exit with the King and my friend behind to see us off I suppose. Rhaenyra had told me how much Daemon preferred Dragonstone to Kings Landing, less conniving, conspiring people there and one less Otto Hightower who I admittedly didn’t like either. Speaking of whom.

“Daemon, leaving already?” We we’re almost at the door to the front gates when he had cut him off, looking at me the entire time. He had always stared at me and struck me as the sort of Beta I needed to be protected from. My guards always kept me at least a good 5 feet from him making me incredibly grateful that they answered to the King directly and never the Hand.

“I would like to be back on Dragonstone with my Omega as soon as I can, not that it’s any of your business.” I could hear my Alphas distaste in his voice as he practically spit the words at him. As Otto took a step closer I tightened my grip on Daemons hand and he looked down at me curiously, seeing I wouldn’t take my eyes off of him and that seemed to be enough.

“Well we will certainly miss your presence in our halls my dear Omega.” Daemons hand was gone from mine so quickly I barely had time to look up before he was pressing him to the wall and choking the life out of him.

“Daemon!” Viserys shouted, watching his brother but keeping the guards from stopping him, turning his head to me.

“You think you get to call her that? You think that’s appropriate for you Beta?! No one calls my Omega that but me, you disgusting old bat!” Otto was making a choking noise and while I enjoyed it I knew I had to calm him now before the Hand lost his head. While Daemon would be in his rights to protect me, many would dispute it and we surely wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

I reached out, placing my hand onto his shoulder and while his muscles tensed for a second they quickly relaxed again. “Alpha. It’s okay.”

“Why do you fear him? Answer me quickly Omega.” He warned, his hand tightening and a quiet whine coming from Otto.

“I am uncomfortable with the way he looks at me, however the guards never let him close. All is well…Please Daemon? If you kill him leaving now is not an option.” I reminded, his hand releasing the man instantly and turning to me before he collapsed to the floor.

“His eyes will never linger on you again Byka rūklon, you have my word…brother. I will see you in a few days. Do not bring this snake with you.” He turned to hug his brother as Rhaenyra hugged me close.

“Hop on Syrax and come visit often, okay? You can stay a few nights, escape Alicent and skip your schooling with me.” I teased feeling her giggle as she held me.

“I promise. I’ll come a few weeks after the wedding.”

“Weeks?”

“You’ll be busy afterwards, trust me. I know Daemon. He has the blood of the Dragon, and it runs hot. Be safe, and good luck in the sky. Hold on tightly.” I was confused for a moment before understanding her meaning. I had always hesitated to get onto Syrax with her, scared of falling off but now it’s not Syrax I’ll be riding.

My hand was taken again and pulled out the door and towards the big red beast in the courtyard causing me to pull back, Daemon turning to face me and smiling at my nervous face. “It’s alright Byka rūklon, I won’t let you fall.”

“What about getting eaten before I even get onto him!?” He snorted, holding me to him tighter and leading me forward, the dragons eyes on me as we got closer.

“Caraxes understands more than you think, he feels what I feel for you and he would never hurt you because that would hurt me.” The white haired man took hold of my hand and held it in his with his other arm around my waist, holding my hand in his up to the giant scaly creature. “You are the only person other than me that he will feel the need to protect. All dragons protect their riders mates, but Omegas even more so.” He leaned into my much smaller hand and I felt his cold scales on my skin, Damon moving my other hand to stroke up his snout.

“Rytsas Caraxes.” I knew my pronunciation was shit but the Blood Worm made a purring noise that rivaled my own with how deep and lovely it was.

“That was wonderful. Has Rhaenyra been teaching you?” I nodded my head.

“So that we could talk without most understanding, especially the Queen.” I giggled, continuing to pet the Dragon who leaned his head into my body which would have knocked me over had Daemon not been behind me holding on.

“Lykiri!” Daemon commanded though he just continued leaning into me.

“It’s okay…I like it.”

“Hmm…just wait until you are carrying my child. He will never want to leave your side. Aegon the Conquerors Omega was nearly always with Balerion when she was with child, he was a protective beast. Knowing Caraxes you’re going to have an even harder time being alone.” He teased and while he meant to make me laugh it actually sounded quite nice to be honest.

“We’re going to be the best of friends, huh?” He trilled out a wonderful sound but unlike the sound a bird makes the ground nearly vibrated with it, it was so deep. “I think I like the sound of that.” I told Daemon whose hand traveled down from my waist to cup my sex through my dress making me gasp as my body became tingly.

“Then we’d better get started, shouldn’t we?” He spoke in my ear, causing my body to shiver excitedly. “I’m going to fill you up so full there will be no doubt that you are carrying my child, and no Beta will dare lay eyes on you again! You will spend the rest of forever filled with my children, Gods I want to fill this cunt so desperately! All mine!” He growled, his other hand now squeezing my tit as he kissed my neck roughly.

“All yours Alpha! Whenever you want, forever!” I was becoming very turned on but just as quickly as he started groping me, he stopped and lifted me over his shoulder roughly, climbing up onto Caraxes and placing me in front of him so I would not fall off.

“Hold on Omega.”

“You think!?” He cackled at my shout and I rolled my eyes.

“Riding dragons is what you will be doing the rest of your life, enjoy it, there’s no way to get away from it now.” His threat was playful but I considered it for a moment…I don’t think I want to get away from this. This is perfect.

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gaysindistress · 4 months

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Limits of a Fae Heart - one

All ive been reading is ACOTAR fics for the last 9 days so here’s a lil something for our shadow baby boy Az. two | three | four | five | six

“We’ll take it from here,” a rich smoky voice calls from behind me. The two sentinels shuffles around, nervous with this new arrival and both reach for the swords strapped to their hips. I look over my shoulder to see a shadowy figure emerging from the treeline. From this distance, all I can tell is that it’s a towering form blurred by a vaporous mist that blends in with the darkness around us. A shiver pricks up my spine at the sight of the mist as memories of the King of Hybern’s men chasing me come flooding back. They never spoke to me, only jeering and laughing, so I know that this figure isn’t one of them but the fear still finds a home in my stomach.

My hand itches to reach for the black blade I used to wear but there’s nothing. I have no weapons and am only clothed in a thin white nightgown, making me feel vulnerable in a way that I detest. All I have is my body language and my words so I straighten my back and square my shoulders before turning to face the figure.

“Stop where you are. You are not welcome here,” the taller sentinel shouts to the shadowy figure and it stills a few feet from me.

I can’t see much without the sun but the lightning illuminates enough for me. The first thing I see is the small smirk that plays on parted pink lips, revealing straight white teeth.

“I am welcome anywhere that I please,” that stupidly smooth voice response and my eyes tear away from the lips to meet a pair of stunning hazel eyes that I will never forget. From beneath long lashes, the most soul piercing eyes make me their sole focus. In them green outer rings fade into golden brown pools that reminds me of the trees back home. Something about them warms the freeze that’s set into my body while also setting off every alarm bell inside of my head.

“Leave before we escort you back to your court of nightmares,” the sentinel shouts again but neither the figure nor I acknowledge her.

The figure takes another step towards me so I can see more of him as the sky streaks with more flashes of lightening. My eyes fall to the ground from the bright light and they land on his feet. Black leather boots cling to his legs while leathery scales act as a second skin and protect every inch of his body. He’s wearing Illyrian fighting leathers.

The recognition of my people’s armor stings worse than it did when I was cut down.

His skin is a golden tan, only furthering my suspicion that he’s Illyrian but the massive wings that sprout from his back are the true indicator. I pry my eyes from them and continue to take in every detail as I reach his face. Short dark hair falls over his forehead and curls over his ears as the sharpness of his face becomes too perfect. He is tall and sculpted, honed muscles seem to make up his entire body. Everything about him is too perfect, too sculptured, too attractive. The hair on the back of my neck stands on high alert and I find myself backing away from him without realizing.

The sentinel voice breaks my trance, “Shadowsinger, leave at once.”

His smirk turns into a devastatingly beautiful smile at the mention of his name as his eyes shift over to the men but they find me again within seconds.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Y/N,” he says to me and me alone. Once again a hand is offered to me but this time I want to take it and I almost would have if someone hadn’t seized me from behind. I let out a shout, albeit cracked from being silent so long and struggle against the strong arms that encircle me.

“Quiet, we’re helping you,” a low male voice whispers into my ear.

“Don’t move,” he mutters to me and pulls me further away as the sentinels frantically look between the two Illyrian males and me.

“Hold onto me,” he instructs as he flares his wings out and spins me so we’re chest to chest. This male has the same hazel eyes and tan skin as the other but there’s a roughness to him. He winks at me, no doubt teasing me for staring and then he shoots up into the sky. He takes us high above the island that I must have been buried on and only stops to hover when we are a safe distance away. Below us, the sentinels and the other male are but specks of light and dark.

A flash of lightening strikes close to us and the male holding me curses under his breath. He mutters an apology to me before we’re encased in a cloud of black mist and my knees meet cold stone floors. I tumble out of his arms, gasping for air and gagging all at once. His muffled chuckle makes me more angry than I am sick and I clamor to my feet. Searching for something to use as a weapon, I find a vase on a nearby table and hurdle it at him. He ducks and the other male appears behind him, subsequently being hit with the vase. He’s able to cover his face and it shatters on his forearms, sending shards of clay everywhere.

A third male voice calls out, “I specifically remember telling you to not piss her off, Cassian.”

A shudder races across my body at the sound of his voice. The High Lord of the Night Court comes to stand beside the rough male, Cassian while the other, the one the sentinels called the Shadowsinger brushes off hits of clay.

“I didn’t do anything,” Cassian says with his hands held up in defense and shakes his head. “We willowed here and she probably got sick, hence throwing the vase.”

The High Lord arches a dark brow and turns to the other male, “what about you, Azriel?”

Azriel.

The Shadowsinger. He is name is Azriel.

Now I can see that the black vapor around him are really shadows, twisting and moving around his body. They reach towards me as a hum begins to vibrate in deep inside the void of my chest. Long ago a similar hum lived there but the male it was tied to had done terrible things and destroyed it. The golden warmth that once filled me was stolen when he betrayed me and left me to bleed out on that island.

I narrow my eyes at the shadows and Azriel sucks in a sharp breath, causing them to flinch away. Rhysand glances between us, obviously sensing the internal conflict happening between us and opens his mouth to speak.

“You should’ve left me alone,” I hiss before he can say anything.

Azriel stiffens and Cassian steps closer to him. Rhysand clears his throat and speaks, “we need your help.”

“Whatever trivial matter you’ve gotten yourself tangled in isn’t any of my concern. You should’ve left me alone on that island.”

“You were stuck between…” Rhysand tries again but I interpret him.

“I may have been stuck between this life and the next but at least I wouldn’t have been mates with yet another male who just wants to use me.”

Azriel blinks slowly at me and his jaw tightens at my words. Cassian and Rhysand both draw in sharp breaths. They shoot confused glances to each other before Cassian grabs ahold of Azriel and attempts to drag him away.

Rhysand steps towards me, placing himself between me and his brothers. His voice is quiet and softer than I expected as he asks, “You have a second mate?”

I don’t answer but my fleeting glance to the silent male behind him is enough.

“Impossible,” he mumbles under his breath with a shake of his head. His piercing violet eyes find mine, searching my hallow ones. “That’s impossible.”

#azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #azriel spymaster #spymaster #limits of a fae heart az x reader

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virahaus · 23 days

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Another day, another fantastic time to debunk completely delulu takes I've seen around. This one actually baffles me on a whole new level, and that people are ACTUALLY thinking it is canon it's giving me a headache.

Why, yes, on that nutter house that is twitterX (and here too unfortunately) people are now claiming that Eddie was Buck's Bi awakening in 2x01 in place of Oliver's recent interview.

First of all shall we look at the definition of Bi awakening, shall we?

"When someone, who thought or assumed they're straight, develops a crush on someone of the same gender and leads to them wondering if they are bisexual."

The key thing here is the realisation. You cannot have a bi awakening without having a moment where you are like "do I like the same gender too? Am I not straight? Am I bisexual?"

Which is EXACTLY what is happening on 7x04 and 7x05 with Buck exploring his feelings for Tommy before AND after the kiss.

There's NO bi awakening on 2x01 because Buck doesn't question in behaviour!! He doesn't have any moment where he considers his animosity about Eddie as anything more than intense dislike, jealousy and fear of being replaced.

Some of you are taking things too far. You are purposefully trying to ERASE actual canon content about a beloved character's bi awakening (something huge, especially with a 30 y/o character) just because you cannot stop for a second and not insert Buddie everywhere you like, even going as far as completely invalidating Buck's journey.

I'm not denying that in retrospect Buck may have found Eddie attractive (Oliver confirmed this as a strong possibility, yes, but that doesn't equal realisation since Oliver also acknowledged that Buck does not look any farther on his feelings on Eddie than interpreting them as personal jealousy).

But canonically Buck's bi awakening is Tommy.

You may not like it, you may not ship it, but you can't behave like this. Headcanons are all well and good, but presenting them as gospel and canon content? Y'all need to take a deep breath and actually get off the internet for a while.

This behaviour is only going to hurt the fandom in the long term. And it is not the first time or the first instance where you take something Oliver said in interviews and completely misinterpret it to suit your pipeline. Try some critical thinking, y'all.

(I'm aware not everyone is thinking like this, but those types of posts are getting over one thousand likes each. At this point it is a fandom problem.)

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #bucktommy #buddie #911 abc #911 fandom #911 #911 show #911 season 7 #911 s7 #evan buck buckely #my post #yes I'm tagging it buddie. i do not care. y'all need to actually think things through before spreading misinformation #tevan #kinley #bisexuality #bi awakening #lgbtqia

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a-d-nox · 2 months

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tarot cards and their key phrases: wands

this is just a beginners guide to the wands suit - i won't go into imagery, color use, etc. these are key phrases that come to mind when i think of the cards - NOT how they should be directly applied. they needs to be thought about situationally and the cards / when they are in combos they can change or alter their meanings of any reading.

ace of wands (1)

astrological equivalent: sagittarius sun

upright: inspiration, new adventure, new projects, travel, start of a business venture, new relationships, drive, and/or motivation.

reversed: hesitation, fears about next steps / timing / failure / leaving, what prevents you from being bold/decisive, lack of confidence, and/or delays.

two of wands (2)

astrological equivalent: leo jupiter

upright: plans for the future, excitement, impatience, new opportunities, remaining where you are, listen to intuition, new partnership, supportive relationship, and/or growth.

reversed: impatience, acting hastily, overexcitement, moving forward too quickly, the unexpected, what doesn't fit the narrative in one's mind, giving up, slowing down, needing to do research, needing a plan of action, needing to try again, waiting for someone else to make the first move, doing what makes you uncomfortable, and/or needing to take initiative.

three of wands (3)

astrological equivalent: leo mercury

upright: energy used to work with others, delegation / sharing responsibilities, waiting, looking for a fitting opportunity, creative/productive energy, prosperity, and/or possibility for travel.

reversed: delays, disconnection from a relationship / group of friends, frustration, disappointment, learning journey, there is a better solution than the one you are thinking of, and/or needing to remain flexible/patient.

four of wands (4)

astrological equivalent: leo venus

upright: wedding, anniversary, graduation, achievements, celebrate your wins, enthusiasm for a connection, hard work, and/or relaxation.

reversed: resistance to indulge, resisting temptation, needing to be present in the moment, and/or needing to find joy.

five of wand (5)

astrological equivalent: aries mars

upright: conflict, disagreements, competition, people all vying for the same thing, strong opinions, and/or rebel energy.

reversed: conflict that is blown out of proportion, details in the argument, being exaggerated for dramatic effect, needing to stick to the facts, avoiding drama/conflict, and/or resolution/agreement reached after an argument.

six of wands (6)

astrological equivalent: leo sun

upright: victory, good news, post-period of struggle, focusing on feeling proud, acknowledging your successes, accepting praise, hard work, deserving recognition, and/or enthusiasm.

reversed: delay in success, disappointment, temporary setback, needing to stick to the plan, and/or needing diligence.

seven of wand (7)

astrological equivalent: aries mercury

upright: unforeseen challenges, obstacles that arise, needing to be assertive/strategic, defensiveness, facing adversity, and/pressure.

reversed: letting anger get the better of you, acting defensive, hyper vigilance, challenging beliefs, feeling defeated, questioning standing up for yourself, lashing out when provoked, and/or internalized anger/frustration.

eight of wands (8)

astrological equivalent: sagittarius mercury

upright: something that is exciting, something happening soon, travel, new person coming into your life, moving quickly, and/or everything falling into place.

reversed: delays, hang-ups, lack of enthusiasm, what you anticipate, divine timing, important realizations, and/or lack of movement.

nine of wands (9)

astrological equivalent: aries moon

upright: deals with a lot (the good, the bad, and the ugly), exhaustion, feeling like quitting / giving up, almost there, dig deep, and/or resilience.

reversed: giving up on something, being urged to not give up, acting stubborn, getting in your own way, you can only control yourself, and/or willingness to take responsibility for behavior.

ten of wand (10)

astrological equivalent: sagittarius saturn

upright: burden of responsibility, feeling overwhelmed, too much going on, physical exhaustion, and/or needing to delegate.

reversed: tremendous pressure, extreme exhaustion, burnout, what you can handle, comparing yourself to others, and/or needing to do what makes you happy.

page of wands

astrological equivalent: earth and fire

upright: grounded, playful, curiosity, good news is on the way, creative experience, and/or new opportunities.

reversed: hasty, impulsive, needing a plan, unreliable, taking on only what you can handle, acting childish, and/or complaining about responsibilities.

knight of wands

astrological equivalent: air and fire

upright: take action on ideas/projects, begin, start by starting, others are supporting you, passion, no hesitation, and/or moving towards goals.

reversed: self-doubt, lack of progression, delays, misunderstandings, don't give up, course of action is needed, and/or needing patience.

queen of wands

astrological equivalent: water and fire

upright: power, creativity, emotional intelligence, passion, ambition, leadership opportunities, claiming power, taking back power, confidence, and/or worthiness.

reversed: doubting you value/worth, feeling like no one sees you, cultivating beliefs, seeing a shift in your confidence, and/or needing to have trust/respect for yourself.

king of

astrological equivalent: fire

upright: leadership, authority, stability, integrity, calmness, relying on your instincts, maturity, confidence, decisive action, and/or enthusiasm.

reversed: abusiveness, misuse/abuse of power, holding grudges, bullying, needing to understand the responsibilities you have, being in a place of power, selfishness, and/or oppressiveness.

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you-til-i-die · 1 month

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wishin’ I could write my name on it

f.odair x fem!reader

summary: a sneak peak into you and finnick’s lives

warnings/content: I wrote and edited this all in one sitting so if it’s absolute shit that’s why<3 district four victor!r, r is said to have throw up a few times, but none of it is graphic. mentions of blood and sex trafficking, cannon-typical shit really, swearing

song: august - ts

wc: 1.9k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

You and Finnick have one rule.

Don’t talk about it. Don’t ask about it. Don’t acknowledge it.

When the two of you are together, you can just forget about it. You can hang out on the beaches of District Four and pretend like these aren’t your lives.

But they are.

And it always somehow seeps through the cracks.

It’s in the way Finnick’s eyes are dull and empty the first few days after a trip to the capitol.

It’s in the way your laugh has morphed into a short bark.

It’s everywhere and it’s everything.

There’s no escaping it.

It haunts your dreams, it probably haunts Finnick’s too, even though you’d never ask.

Because that’s the rule. No asking. Ever.

————————————————————————

It was August. The sun seemed to slowly be getting the message that fall was getting nearer, the rays a little less intense then they had been a few weeks ago. The water was even the tiniest bit cooler, soothing a stubborn sunburn on your shoulders.

You were laying on the beach, face down on a towel, trying to ignore the stick of salt drying on your skin. You can’t help but let out a yawn, exhausted from the still persistent heat and trying to win against Finnick in a swimming race all day.

You were so relaxed. Focusing on the waves crashing against the shore. And the presence beside you that you knew was Finnick.

You honestly were about to fall asleep before he speaks. He mentions it so casually, he might as well have been asking what you wanted for dinner.

“Snow needs me in the capitol. I’m leaving on Friday.”

His voice is completely flat, devoid from all of its usual humor. It made you nauseous. You consider asking if he feels the same way, but you don’t. That was the rule. And you know the rules.

You push yourself up onto your elbows to get a good look at him, to try and decipher the look on his face. You could almost always read him. You hadn’t spent four years attached to each other to not learn the subtle mannerisms of the other. But this was different. It always was.

You and Finnick could talk about almost anything together. The games, the fear that you could never seem to shake, the nightmares, the way it was sometimes hard to stomach killing even a fish. But you never talk about this.

You never talk about how Snow will whisk one, or sometimes both, of you away whenever he needs a favor. You never tell him how afterwards you have to scrub your entire body raw before you can even begin to feel clean again. You don’t tell him how the first couple of times you would sob until you threw up, but now you just curl up and do your best to avoid the pit in your stomach.

Well, truthfully, you had talked about it once. But never again.

You had just been crowned victor of the 69th Hunger Games, District Four’s second victor in four years. It was no surprise, really. You were seventeen, and one of the oldest in the arena. You were strong, quick, and smart. So, so smart. You had won through pure trickery, and everyone loved you for it.

It’s hard for you to remember what happened the week after you won. There’s little snippets, of course. Looking down at the blood on your hands, blood that wasn’t yours. The booming of a voice in the arena, announcing that you were the victor. You had won. You did it. You had made District Four proud. And then you threw up.

You must have blacked out afterwards, because the next thing you remember is being back in your suite in the training center, sobbing in Finnick’s arms while he held you. Most of what you can remember is centered around him. Gripping onto his hand like a lifeline while your stylists buzzed around you. Glancing over Snow’s shoulder at him while the president crowned you. Watching him standing in the wings of the stage while Ceasar Flickerman went over a highlight reel of your time in the arena. Finding your way back into his arms on the train. You’re pretty sure Finnick didn’t say more than the same couple words the first week. It seemed to be a constant variation of “I know honey, but you’re safe now. I’ve got you sweetheart.”

It wasn’t until your victory tour that he told you. You doubt he ever would have, if he didn’t know for sure it would happen to you.

He had sat you down on the train after a party in District Two and told you everything. How Snow would practically sell him to people. How he didn’t have a say, and how you wouldn’t either, unless you wanted everyone you loved to be dead. He had grabbed your hands, shaking hand in shaking hand, and apologized profusely. He told you how he would do everything possible to keep you safe, he would offer himself instead of you. But you knew that wouldn’t work. Snow gets what Snow wants, and if Snow wants you to fuck his friends for some sick favor, there was nothing you, or Finnick, could do to stop that from happening.

“Oh.”

“Yah.” Was all Finnick said, refusing to meet you gaze as he stared out at the ocean. He’s working one of the muscles in his jaw and you have to look away before you grab his face and do something stupid.

“When will you be back?” You don’t say it, but you’re sure he understands the meaning. Please say it’ll only be one night. Please tell me they won’t put you through it more than once this time. Please tell me you’ll be back to hold me through the nightmares soon. Please don’t make me wait for you more than I already do.

“I’m not sure. Snow said a couple of days.”

No no no no no no no please no.

You didn’t respond. Scared that if you open your mouth the bile collecting in your throat would spill out.

You just look over at him. Take him in. It’s no wonder why the capitol loves him so much. Although not for his humor, his kindness, his strength, the way he’s always looking out for everyone but himself. None of that. Just because he’s a pretty face. But in the bright, golden sun, you find it hard to disagree with them. He’s all broad shoulders and a strong jawline. Bright green eyes that always seem to shine when they look at you. Sharp teeth hiding behind that perfect fucking smile. Salty hair you wanted to run your fingers through. Credit where credit is due, the capitol knows how to pick a sex symbol.

But you don’t see a sex symbol. Not right now. Right now all you see is the person you want to hold on to, and never let go of. The person you’d throw it all away for, if he asked. The person who seemed to always have another layer for you to work your way into, but you’d be damned if you ever stopped trying to get to the root of him.

You’ve been staring for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Finnick notices, of course, because Finnick notices everything.

“Honey?”

You tear your eyes away from where they had been tracing the veins in his hands. “Hm?”

“You ok?” And there it is. That fucking wolf smile. All sharp canines and slightly raised eyebrows because he knows. He knows he’s got you in between his teeth and he knows you’re happy to stay there because it’s him.

You pause, but just for a moment, trying not to give him the satisfaction of winning, of successfully flustering you. But his eyes are boring into yours and it’s so hard to look away from him, but you do. He wins. He normally does.

“‘M just thinking.”

“What about?” He asks. Flopping down on his side, trying to get on eye level with you because it’s never just enough for him to win, he has to make sure you know that he knows it.

You just roll your eyes at him, there’s nothing else you can do.

“About how we’ve been out here since nine in the morning and it’s after noon now, and you haven’t reapplied sunscreen once.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes now.

“I don’t burn, honey, you know that.”

“What about that time you were out all day, didn’t put sunscreen on once, and then I had to rub aloe vera on your back for a week because you burned like hell and all of your skin was peeling off?” You ask, smile working its way onto your face. You know you’ve got him. You’re winning now.

He pauses, he doesn’t back down easily. “It was a fluke. A glitch, even.” He says, trying his best to shrug his shoulders even though he’s lying down. He fails. It looks ridiculous. You have to try not to laugh. “I honestly think the sun just had a vendetta against me that day.”

You’re failing at biting back a smile now. “At least let me get your back because there is literally nothing you could say or do to ever get me to help you with a third degree sunburn again.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just makes a big show of groaning and rolling his eyes at you before rolling onto his back.

You’ve won.

“So dramatic? You know that? It’s like being friends with a child.” You say as you root around in your bag for your sunscreen. Trying to ignore the disgusting feeling you know it will leave on your hands as you squirt it out.

He props himself up on his elbows to look at you, surely about to counter with some story about you being much more dramatic than him, before you shove him back down, face in the sand.

“Ow.”

“You’re fine. A little sand never killed anyone.”

You decide to ignore his grumbling, focusing on spreading the sunscreen on his back. However, you can’t ignore the growing pit in your stomach that you know will be there until Finnick’s back from the capitol.

Still, they can’t take this from you. You’ve earned it. You deserve to be here, definitely not checking out your best friend who you know you can’t have.

You lose yourself for a moment. Letting yourself focus on the way his muscles feel under your hands. Maybe, one day, this could be real. The capitol will find new, attractive victors, and they’ll move on. You and Finnick can fade into the background, and just live.

You pull back, and grab the tube again, squirting it directly on his back. You start to rub it in before pausing for a moment, why not?

Quickly, you write your name in the sunscreen on his back. Snow has cameras everywhere. Maybe he’s watching. Maybe he’s not. But either way, at least for a second, you can say mine. All mine. You can’t take him from me, not really.

He feels it, lifting his head up just as you’re wiping away the evidence.

“Are you drawing on my back?”

You flash him your own smile. A little less wolfish, a little more coy.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

A/n: Hi omg I wrote this in one sitting😭this has just been rattling around in my head for weeks now and I had to get it out lol. Constructive criticism and feedback is always appreciated, I hope you all enjoyed<3

#mine!!!#finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick oneshot #thg x reader #thg x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair fluff

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kikyo-bnha-imagines · 8 months

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Can we get a scenario for Shigaraki with a healer girlfriend that always fusses over him when he gets injured?? And he tries to play it off like it's no big deal but he secretly loves being spoiled by her

The moment Shigaraki gets back to the hideout, he is greeted by your wide-eyed, panicked expression.

“Tomura!” you cry out, rushing over to him. “What... what happened? You’re hurt!”

Granted, you’re not wrong. Part of his clothing has been torn up, and there are noticeable gashes on his skin peeking through the frayed fabric. He's taken enough damage that he's even walking with a bit of a limp, and he has to admit that it’s a pain in the ass.

Despite all that, Shigaraki just shrugs in response.

“I’m fine,” he dismisses. “Just let my guard down for a bit. Don’t worry. The other guys are dead, so in comparison, they barely did anything to me.”

You puff out your cheeks, and even though he knows you’re worried, you’re so goddamn cute that it’s kind of hard to take you seriously.

“Just because you’re strong doesn’t mean you don’t need to take care of yourself,” you chastise him.

Shigaraki shrugs again. “It’s no big deal. I barely even feel anything.”

That’s a total lie, but he does his best to act tough around you. Besides, it wouldn’t reflect well on him if the leader of the League of Villains was whining over a few little injuries, right?

Instead of responding, you just roll your eyes, grab him by the wrist, then pull him into one of the rooms.

“Even if it’s not a big deal to you, it is to me,” you remind him. You lightly push on his shoulders and force him to sit down. “Now, stay there. I’m not letting you leave until you’re good as new.”

Apart from his mentor, All for One, Shigaraki is the most dangerous villain to date. There’s practically no one who doesn’t cower in fear when they hear his name. He’s powerful enough to reduce anything to dust, and he watches in delight as no-good heroes die from his bare hands.

That’s the kind of person he is, and yet, you still worry about him.

Shigaraki isn’t sure how it happened, but he must have plucked an angel from the sky. Well, a corrupted angel who willingly supports a murderer, but an angel all the same.

You lean forward, knitting your brows together, and slowly but surely, your palms begin to glow with bright, warm light.

Even Shigaraki, as determined as he is to act unbothered, can’t help but sigh in relief as you press your gentle, glowing fingers against his injuries. He can feel the pain ebb away, gradually at first, and then all at once.

Seriously, he struck the goldmine. Not only does his party have a healer now, but she’s also his super-hot girlfriend. Lately, he has to admit that life is pretty damn good.

“How does that feel?” you ask, making sure not to apply too much pressure.

Shigaraki nods sleepily. There’s something about your Quirk that makes him let his guard down and feel especially at ease. Although that can be said about being around you in general.

You run your fingers over every single wound, even the ones that are small enough not to warrant any attention. His body is back to being in near-perfect shape, but he knows that using your Quirk comes at the cost of your own energy, and you let out a heavy sigh, slumping down onto his lap.

“That’s why I said you didn’t need to do this,” Shigaraki frowns. “Look. You’re exhausted now.”

You shake your head, mustering up a smile. “No. It’s fine. A bit of fatigue is nothing if I know that you’re safe. I just always want you to be safe. Okay, Tomura?”

Before he can even respond, you cradle his cheek and lead his lips towards yours, meeting him in a soft, featherlight kiss. His face instinctively flushes, and he wraps his arms around you as quickly as possible, hoping to prolong the moment.

“I know you only worry because you care,” he acknowledges. His lips trace yours for a moment, and when he kisses you again, it’s deeper and more urgent than before. “I... love you,” he mumbles. As usual, it’s hard for him to say the words. He always thought that someone like him didn’t deserve love, wasn’t even capable of it. But meeting you changed that, and now, he knows better.

“I love you too, Tomura.”

You smile back at him again. Perhaps he’s biased because you’re his girlfriend, but he really thinks you’re the most gorgeous human being on the entire planet. You make him feel warm and comfortable. He’s strong enough to kill anyone who dares to fuck with him, that much is true, but even so, it’s nice having someone who puts his wellbeing first.

Shigaraki squeezes you tight, and he watches in adoration as your eyelids slowly fall shut, the strain of your Quirk finally catching up with you. If you happen to fall asleep on his lap, he knows he won’t be moving for the next couple of hours. But it’s fine.

You took care of him, and now it’s his turn to take care of you.

#shigaraki x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #bnha fluff #mha fluff #fluff #romance #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #boku no hero imagines

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cvlutos · 1 year

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“My Wingless Dove”

| Repost: 02.19.2023 | 1.2K | Mature Audiences |

Yandere!Diasomnia X GN!Reader [TWST: VAMPIRE AU]

Book.Summary: Dont walk into abandoned homes, even if the weather is bad, for there may be vampires living there that just love humans.

You’re pretty.

So pretty that it worries us to death when you come barreling into our home, fumbling through the door with heaving breaths, pounding heart, and rushing veins, so loud and so full of life. You kick the door closed desperately, blindly throwing yourself deep into the dark and what you assume—abandoned—home.

You’re far too pretty to live in such fear.

You make a home for yourself, using the old dusty library as yours, what we wish would be your forever home. Using broken floorboards as wood. Though you aren’t fully aware of our presence, that’s alright. You don’t need to worry about the peering, deep reddish-magenta glowing eyes that watch you from afar. Eyes that you swear you see as you prepare your dinner. Or as you sleep, gentle touches of flesh brush against the apple of your cheeks, or the exposed chest of your collarbone.

Don’t worry about the glaring eyes that watch you from afar as you search the forest for your food, silently protecting you. Do not worry when you see green eyes and that of a tall silhouette watching you from the far corners, only for you to blink and it’s gone. You’re pretty. They only want to admire you.

══════ ♡ ══════

The deep red eyes are first to greet you.

First to catch your attention. First to frighten you. Even if he doesn’t mean to., you’re just too cute, such a sweet, defenseless person, living amongst four beings that are far stronger, faster, hungrier. Far more than you could ever be. You’re fascinating and he lets you know of his existence. He wants you to know he’s around, devoted to you, as he is the prince.

You have dreams of a soft, monotone voice.

Hearing him whisper to you to sleep well, to have pleasant dreams. He is the one you should trust most, the one who understands you the most. Even though mortality is so from him. That’s alright, you are simply a glimpse of what he once was, and he adores you for that. You represent that part of him that was once human.

The glare from afar still scorns you.

He makes you feel unwanted, unneeded, foreign—an intruder. Well, in a way, you are. You stumble into their home, into the home of the prince, and make it your little hovel. He’s annoyed, disgusted, for you represent the side of him that will always be human. That will never change. He hates that about you, yet he can’t find it in his unbeating heart to allow any harm to come to you. Maybe he isn’t as detached from humanity as he claims.

The tall silhouette that scares you still.

He wishes you didn’t fear him. He wishes you’d simply waltz into his arms, sway gently against him and with him. He craves for you to step into the shadow to see him and acknowledge him for being safe, to see that he wouldn't harm you. He cares for you as a lover would. Even if you don’t love him yet, you will. Eventually, you will. As all things take time and you, darling, will have all the time in the world.

══════ ♡ ══════

“If I could simply stop time in this moment—without having to change not a single part of you—I truly wish I could.”

His words are merely wind to air as you sleep, blissful and unaware. You are as if the sun had been given for him to hold and cherish, a blessing, a gift. So strong, yet so destructive. So painful for he knows if he touches you, he melts. Burns. He’s alright with that.

You had in passing, talking to the ancient pictures on the walls of your soon departure. Something that Malleus can't bear to stand. You can’t go free of them. Of him. Not now. Nor ever. For he knows like a flower that only blooms once within its lifetime, would soon disappear. He refuses. You will be there for his lifetime, all his lifetimes. He wants nothing more.

“My Prince... what is it you desire?”

You.

The answer is you.

You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You.

It will always be you.

You spilled your blood today as you explored the vast forests. Bring them each nearly to their knees, salivating desperately. Like a flavor that they knew not of, yet still yearned for centuries. Surely, you’d indulge them. Silver gently lowers your form onto the massive bed, treating you so delicately, like glass.

You should feel so loved. So wanted. Even when you awaken and you thrash against Sebek’s tight embrace, cursing him—begging him to release you, pleading with him to let you go. As Lilia forces your mouth open to feed you, as you kick and scream.

You will come to understand our love.

As Silver nearly suffocated you in his chest, rocking you slowly as Malleus reads fairytale stories to you.

You’ll get over how cruel I am. As I read, you tales of freedom, or escape, of adventures, that you could never go on.

“You’ll understand why I did what I did, my little wingless dove.”

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aphroditelovesu · 3 months

Note

Can you do general headcanons for romantic yandere Clarisse la rue x reader? Thank you <3

❝ 🥀 — lady l: definitely! I hope you like these hcs, anon! Forgive me for any mistakes and good reading ❤️.

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of death, kidnapping and toxic relationships.

❝🥀pairing: yandere!clarisse la rue x gender neutral!reader.

Clarisse has never been the romantic type or cares about that kind of thing. She had other concerns than dating or something like that, she preferred to dedicate her time to other and more productive things. Her time was spent fighting and honing her skills. La Rue kept that thought in mind for a long time, until she laid her eyes on you.

At first glance, you seemed like just another demigod among many others she had already met. However, as you began to interact and she got to know more about you, something changed within her. There was something about you that attracted her and she knew she wanted more.

Gradually, Clarisse began to realize that perhaps there was more to life than simply fighting and honing her skills. You awakened a different curiosity in her, a desire to explore new experiences and feelings. You awakened feelings she had never felt before and she knew she wanted more. She knew she wanted you and she would have you.

When Clarisse finally acknowledged that she was in love, a series of conflicting emotions flooded her. She felt vulnerable and challenged, something completely new for someone so used to maintaining a facade of strength and independence. At the same time, she felt invigorated, as if she was finally discovering a part of herself that had been neglected for so long. And all thanks to you.

This revelation brought with it a feeling of euphoria mixed with fear. Euphoria from the overwhelming feeling that consumed her when she was near you, but fear of the unknown, of what could happen if she allowed herself to completely surrender to this new emotional territory. Clarisse was distraught at the thought of losing control but she wasn't going to let you get away.

As Clarisse's feelings for you intensified, she found herself in unfamiliar and challenging territory. The idea of being in love made her uncomfortable and vulnerable, but at the same time excited and motivated. She never imagined that she could feel something so strong for someone, and it scared her a little at first.

She also saw in you a challenge, a goal, a prize to be won. And she would be the one to win you over. If she had competition, Clarisse would deal with them however she pleased. She would challenge them to a fight and, if they still didn't stay away from you, she would deal with them in a more definitive way. She does not want and will not accept having any type of competition for your love and attention.

And most of all, she was determined to win your heart and not let anyone else come between the two of you. You would be hers one way or another. She wouldn't like to have to force you to love her or do something against your will, but Clarisse isn't against using the strength she possesses against you if necessary.

Clarisse would be practical. After an exhausting workout, she took a shower and asked to talk to you. Fortunately, you already had a good relationship to make things easier.

When you were together, La Rue confessed how she felt about you. She let it all out in an awkward way, but she let it. You were swept away by her words and when you accepted your feelings, Clarisse blushed, she actually blushed. She pulled you into a passionate, possessive kiss and finally sealed her love, her obsession.

The relationship with her is suffocating and very unstable and this became clear very quickly. Clarisse was not clingy, but rather possessive and she will fight and threaten anyone who looks at you for longer than she deems necessary. She is very controlling of you and will demand to know where you are or what you are doing at all times. It became exhausting after a while.

She is a daughter of Ares and therefore is not against using violence to protect her relationship. She had you, someone she loved and cared for with her entire being, and she'll be damned if she let anyone try to take that away from her. You are hers alone and everyone will know that. Clarisse should be the only person in your life that you love and she will make sure of that. Your friends will have to go and your family will have to go. You don't need them while you have her.

You can't leave her. If you tried to break up with her, Gods be good. Clarisse will not allow it and will make absolutely sure that you understand this. Her first warning would be when your little mortal friend was brutally murdered during your summer break and the second would be when you woke up in a dark place and tied up.

You won't leave her, ever. Clarisse will make sure of that. You became hers the moment she started paying attention to you. This is all your fault, she will tell you. If you hadn't attracted her, this would never have happened. But don't worry, she will take great care of you. That's what good girlfriend's do, right?

#yandere percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #yandere clarisse la rue x reader #yandere clarisse la rue #headcanons #yandere headcanons #romantic yandere #yandere pjo

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sp00kymulderr · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab!reader

Warnings: Angst, obsessive love (reader), pregnancy, two miserable people fucking, unrequited love, unprotected p in v (do whatever you want idc), Joel isn't very nice but he isn't full on mean, tiny bit of degradation, possessiveness. unedited rubbish as ususal.

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Joel doesn't love you, it doesn't matter.

There is a part of Joel that lives in you.

There is a part of him that is planted deep and heavy where your heart meets your soul.

The dagger of his love buried inside your ever-his body, your ever-his spirit. Even in the air you breathe there is him all around. He seeps into every pore, moulded to every valley of your being. Where your fingertips touch your own soft flesh, you feel him. Everywhere and nowhere, Joel possesses you.

It’s not just the child that grows in you, the one he’d promised with every deep thrust and seed spilled in you. The one he had hardly acknowledged even while you swell with it.

Long before that, you were his.

You have always been a part of him.

The first time you ever saw him was in the square where Fedra militants made you watch innocent people hang. You preferred to scan the crowd than watch the horrors being put on show. Fear shaking through the people like the wind, just like the soldiers wanted, but he stood there stock-still and heavy and caught your interest immediately.

There was something rare about him, a mystery in a way that men in this world were often not. He seemed inimitable. A rugged thing made to tempt and cause turmoil in your soul. Greying hair and beard, broad shoulders, strong profile, a presence that made itself felt in you and the clench of your cunt as you looked him over.

You'd sought him out the next time - he was easy to find.

You found him again, and again, and again.

The next time, you followed; he had left the crowd and slipped away into the sapphire night, down towards a darkened alley, the kind of place in the QZ you would avoid. He didn’t seem the type to fear anything.

You were good at following. It was easy to blend in with the crowds of miserable and fraught spirits. You didn't stand out, as far as you knew. So you did what you were good at and stole away after the man for no reason other than some kind of emptiness in the pit of your stomach that perhaps this stranger could fill.

You watched him as he spoke to a soldier. Two people clearly wanting to be away from each other as they talked hurried and hushed, always looking over their shoulders. And then you'd heard the whispered name. ‘Joel’.

His name was Joel, it slipped from your mouth and felt even better than you'd hoped.

Joel, Joel, Joel. You whispered it into the air around you, cried it out as you tangled in your sheets. You thought that name with breath after breath, you heard it in your airways before you even spoke it.

This Joel was beautiful to you.

And this Joel would plant himself in you deeper with every blissful murmur of his name.

Finally came the day you saw him away from the crowds. You'd got your rations and your duties for the next day just like everyone else, and had decided to find your way home via the alleys you'd seen him in before. It was stupid, but you were possessed with the need to be where he had been.

When you'd rounded the corner of that alley you’d first followed him to, he was there. Was he really there? Your brain had been toying with you for weeks. You saw him in your dreams, you saw him when you closed your eyes, you saw the ghost of him in everything you did. He surrounded you but never had you felt him so close.

He stood across the way from you, someone else already retreating as he pocketed a baggie and ration cards.

Your brain screamed his name and you were grateful only that it didn’t force the word from your mouth as the imposing man approached you with a hard look.

You loved him, then and there, you didn’t doubt it for a moment.

He fucked you then but not like he fucks you now. He’d fucked you up against the wall after you’d all but begged him to. Now he fucks you in your bed whether you beg or not. You take it, again and again and he knows you will because you're his.

“My fuckin’ girl, that’s right” Joel groans a symphony of pleasure as he pushes in to your dripping cunt for the second time that night. He slides in easily, stopping with his hips flush against your ass as he takes you from behind “Fuckin’ whore desperate for me to fill you again”.

You babble something incoherently stupid and he grunts before beginning to move, retreating and pulling you back on to him until you get the message to fuck yourself on his cock like he wants.

You love him. Consumed by him, devoured from the inside out, you do everything he wants and you give everything he needs. Pushing yourself back and forth, sliding against his thick length and stopping when he’s buried all the way in again. You sigh and press your forehead to the crinkled sheets until he slaps your rear so hard it stings.

“Didn’t tell you to stop” He mutters, voice low and dark and lighting a new fire in your belly.

If this world is a rotting orchid he is the one living tree left you have been searching for. You’ll eat from him for as long as you live, for as long as he’ll let you.

You whine and move again, but you both feel how the weight of your pregnancy makes your movements harder, makes everything more uncomfortable than it used to be.

“Fuck” Joel sighs and stops you moving. He’s quiet for a while, grinding slowly into you as you prepare to be admonished. Instead your breath hitches as he rubs large hands over your ass and up your back in a rare act of tenderness.

“You hurtin’ from this, huh?” He murmurs slowly, one hand dipping down to cradle your belly. It’s the first time he’s really touched there since you started showing, the first time he’s really even talked about it. You have to hold back the gentle sob that gurgles up your throat when he strokes there for just a moment. When you’d told him it was his, he hadn’t said a thing, just looked away from you when something sharp shone in his eyes.

“Mhm” you nod, hiding your face so he doesn’t see the desperate tears that spring up in your eyes. His hand is warm there, radiating within you where he touches, soothing your skin gently even as he begins to rut into you harder.

“Had to get yourself knocked up” he sighs, slap of his skin on yours gradually filling the room again and making you whine like a weak thing caught in a trap. A broken little animal caught by him.

“Didn’t mean to” you whimper pathetic, words punched out of you with his increasing thrusts. The hand on your stomach sneaks down to where you’re joined, finding your swollen clit with ease.

“What am I gonna do with you?” Joel exhales rubbing you slowly as he fucks in to you like he has a hundred times before.

Love me. Love me. Love me.

You cry out a stuttering sob as the lights behind your eyes turn sugary pink with pleasure. A flutter in your core runs its way up your body like a crashing wave; advancing and retreating as he draws the climax out of you in teasing movements that make it last what feels like forever.

“There it is, yeah…there it is” His voice is dark and gravelly as he tries to hold his own pleasure down for a moment longer

“That’s mine. It’s mine. Tell me”

You reach back to grasp any part of him that you can. Everything aches sweetly in you as you twist ever so to see him. His eyes are dark, a hard glare and yet not unkind. Even in the most intense moments of taking from you he isn’t cruel for cruelty's sake.

He’s chasing the same need that you are, the same desire to feel alive, to forget, to live as someone else for even a moment. To exist outside of the dying world around you.

“Yours, Joel. It’s yours” And you mean it - your orgasm, your body, your heart, your soul, your baby. Every part of you is his, has been since the first time you’d laid eyes on him and felt that spark of something new.

You love him.

He fills you then, pulses inside you like always, with a languid moan of your name. His hands grab at your hips hard, keeping you close to give every last drop.

It’s a ritual, at this point. You each kneel at the altar of lust, both drink from its cup. Sacrifice yourselves to it.

“Mine” he tells you, sitting back and pulling you up, hands stroking your stomach as he stakes his claim.

He doesn’t love you, it doesn’t matter.

“Yours” You agree, like you have ever since the first moments of him.

You love him, it doesn’t matter.

#literally idk #joel miller x reader

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spdrvyn · 10 months

Text

second chance headcanons — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel breaks up with you out of concern for your safety, he tries to reassure himself that he did the right thing but he can't help how he yearns for your presence, your warmth, you every single day. how does he deal with it? do you two get back together?

THIS FIC CONTAINS: angst. hurt/comfort. fluff. somewhat suggestive content. pathetic miguel (for my enjoyment and yours). spider-person reader. slightly possessive miguel.

NOTES: i have nothing to say. i was possessed while i wrote this. STREAM PROMISE BY LAUFEY IT POWERED ME THROUGH THIS POST FR!!! also this is kinda long lol

× there is one leading factor as to why i think miguel would break up with you. being that he's so scared of getting comfortable, he doesn't want to overwhelm you, and get overly-attached. × he's grateful for you, he always will be but how long would that last before you'd be snatched from his careful grasp? even if your fates aligned, he was scared of even being open. that the moment he let you know of his deepest insecurities, you'd go running. × keeping a distance was just a habit that was hard to let go off, he did show he loved you but not in the ways that you needed or craved. pure physical affection wasn't enough, the tiniest gestures weren't enough, it wasn't enough. he knew that.

× which lead to the demise of your relationship, it was so utterly painful to watch his words sink in and the tears starting to breach from your waterline. he couldn't bring himself to hug you because how could he be so kind after doing something like that? × he couldn't be vulnerable, he had to be strong. keeping his emotions in check even as you said that you understood and if this is what made him happy then you'd go through with it, that you respected his wishes like the kind soul that you were and soon left. leaving him with an air of regret and yearning. × work isn't easier for him either, and that's normally the first thing on his list of suppressing his emotions. how hard he tried to conceal his shame whenever you two just happened to pass by each other in the halls of the headquarters. × you could see it too, let it not be said that you were oblivious. you had picked up on when miguel was trying to tamp down his feelings during the time of your previous relationship, and it was clear he was still trying to do it now. × if you were being completely honest with yourself, you tried doing the same since miguel was so insistent on shutting himself out, you might as well give it a shot. right? well, not really. each and every time you thought about him and no matter how hard you tried, it would spill out through sobs and long rants to your friends (to their misfortune). × you've learned to be more non-chalant about the break up, acknowledging that you couldn't really do anything about it. however, it didn't stop your heart from beating at a hundred miles an hour whenever you were within an arm's length from miguel. being alone with him certainly didn't make it better.

His voice rung in your head like a chant. Meet me in my office later, meet me in my office later, meet me in my office later. It's like he was haunting you, the sound of your own footsteps not even making it to your ears as you trudged closer and closer to his chambers.

Were you scared? Yes. Absolutely fucking terrified. However, it's not because you feared he was going to scold or yell at you, but because you've haven't been alone with him for a while.

Yes, one-on-one office meetings did happen from time to time but it's been days since your last one with him, and you certainly weren't expecting it to come so soon.

It felt darker than usual when you walked in, the platform that he normally stands on now lowered to it's fullest. You were well familiarized with his lab and it's layout, a lot has changed.

The brewing stations that he was so stern about cleaning now scattered, some stray vials even shattered on the floor. There were papers everywhere, unreadable from the dimness of the room but even from your viewpoint you could see how illegible his handwriting was when he was scribbling down on them.

Before you could observe his workspace any further, he steps down from his platform. Your eyes immediately flickering up, it unsettled you so much. Everything about this was unsettling. His eyes, you knew how to study his expression, a talent you gained from being the only person that Miguel really tolerated, but now? He was completely unreadable, like you didn't recognize him anymore.

Your gaze trails down to his chest, where it rosed and fell a lot faster than it usually did. He seemed erratic almost, you remembered when he'd come home to you in that kind of state and most of the time it would normally end in the bedroom.

Since you don't want to be caught staring at his pecs, you clear your throat and fight to make eye contact with him. "Sorry, what did you need me here for?"

Miguel looks as if he's lost in a trance for a moment, boring his eyes into yours until he snaps out of it and turns his head away - breaking the very uncomfortable exchange of eye contact.

"You got hurt during your last operation." His voice sounded hoarse, more so than usual at least. You really wondered what the hell Miguel was doing before you got in here, you were aware that he took some sort of drug to stabilize his DNA, maybe he hasn't taken his shots yet? You're too scared to ask.

"A lot of people got hurt," You begun to explain, crossing your arms and digging your fingers into your arms as to prevent yourself from stuttering. "I got a gash on my arm, but I went to the infirmary and got it fixed up so it's fine. I'm fine."

There goes that silence. That grating unbearable silence that forces you to hear every pin drop, every whir of a machine, and every distant laugh of yet another obnoxious Spider-person. Everything went quiet which made every other noise so fucking deafening, it irked you.

You wanted him to say something, to do something, to even just breathe a little louder because you knew the moment that he'd make even just a single nose that he'd get your attention right away.

Seems like you prayed a little too hard. He puts a hand on your shoulder and it sends shocks straight to your palpitating heart, he leans in close. Not close enough to have alarms blaring in your head, but he was very close.

"But you got hurt too. That's—" Suddenly, his head drops down and he stares at the floor for a few moments. You get a good view of his messy, dark brown curls before he looks back up again, before letting go of your shoulder. "Nevermind. Get out."

There goes the moment, as per usual. You huff a sigh of relief? Disappointment? You weren't quite sure, processing the emotions you just felt was a job for later, you had more pressing matters to attend to right now.

"Right, I'm sorry." You had no idea what you were apologizing for either, but it felt like you should be sorry.

× little did you know that that wouldn't be the last time you'd say sorry to miguel. you didn't consider yourself to be the most apologetic person, but with most things, miguel seemed to have unlocked that part of you as well.

× sometimes it would be over the smallest, most obscure encounters. like brushing fingers whenever you two reach for the same item in the cafeteria, whenever he drops a pen and you both try to pick it up at the same time.

× it's not like it got any better than that. whenever miguel wanted to meet up with you, this time not about you getting injured during operations (although if you did, it would consume most of the conversation) but even about the most mundane things, the meeting would end with an overwhelming silence that you'd have to break with the same pathetic "i'm sorry".

× miguel didn't know either, he thought he did but lyla has reassured him that it's just the overthinking talking and that he was worrying over it too much. even then, he still felt like it was his fault that you constantly had to apologize to him for reasons unknown. it was so pitiful, he couldn't stand seeing you like that. he'd rather die.

× this bad habit of yours didn't help either of you. every time you apologized to him, every time you looked at him, every time you spoke to him, every time you breathed in his direction, that pit of want in his stomach only continued to grow and that impulsive thought at the back of his head that tells him to just relent and beg for you back continued to grow louder and louder.

× no matter where he went, he'd be reminded of you. you were like a sticker he couldn't peel off, a tattoo that would never fade. he'd find bits and pieces of you in his home, around the city. whether it would be him scrolling past the channels late at night and coming across your favorite show, standing in front of the television in a daze as the memories come back to him before turning it off.

× or your smell would count as well. when he'd be going patrolling through the citys in the day and come across a perfume shop, it's like he has to physically restrain himself from barging inside geared in his suit just because he could smell your scent from the inside. he simply couldn't take it anymore, it's like his senses were going haywire.

× he needed you. he was going to fix this.

Miguel had never looked in the mirror more times in his life than now.

"Come on, Miguel. I'm sure you look fine! See? Look at that cute face," Lyla cooed in mock affection as Miguel scowled at her through the reflection of the mirror. "Not so cute anymore."

He ignored her comments, running his hand through his thick hair in a poor attempt in trying to getit to fall down in a more 'attractive' way (according to Lyla's fashion articles) but it just didn't seem to work. That's the downside of having consistently styled hair, Miguel huffs and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Do I have everything?" He looks back up as Lyla flickers over to his kitchen counter, scanning the items on it through her careful gaze and heart-shaped sunglasses. Once she's done, she gives him a small thumbs-up. "Donuts and flowers are still here like they were fifteen minutes ago, Miguel."

He hated the fact that he kept checking his presents were going to disappear if he looked away for too long or stopped paying attention, he wasn't going to let his gifts for you slip out of his fingers this time. Not on his watch. Not toda—

"These flowers will wilt if you don't hurry up."

"Fine, fine. Stop rushing me."

With a few clicks of his watch, that same blinding portal opened up in front of him as he hesitantly walked into it. He clutched the flowers and donuts in an iron grip, trying to make sure no flowers flew out of the bouquet and all twelve donuts were still contained in the box.

He stood in the dimly lit hallway of your apartment, doors lining up on each side. The nerves were starting to creep up on him, very clear from the way that the paper that wrapped the bouquet so nicely was now crumpled. He sighed, dejected.

"You're going to do fine, Miguel." Lyla interjected.

"You don't know that," He begins taking very, very small strides towards your apartment door which made Lyla's virtual eyeballs roll to the back of her head. "We both won't know for sure unless you try, besides I sense that I'll be going offline soon."

"You don't have intuition. You're an artificial intelligence."

"You're going to kiss your soon-to-be in five minutes lover with that mouth?" Miguel followed the routine of angrily swatting Lyla away even as he's about to show up to your door, about to pour his whole heart out to you, though it's inevitable. She'll find a way to be witty about something, he'll get mad and tell her to leave, before coming back to grovel. There's a bit of pattern in that, no?

All the anxiety that Miguel has been trying to push down to the dark crevices of his heart were all coming back to him as he raised a shaking finger to ring your doorbell, countless scenarios rushing through his head. What if this was the wrong door? What if you were sleeping and he rudely interrupted you? What if you weren't home? What if you were dead? Oh, he hated that thought.

The door to your apartment swung open to his surprise, and the fingers he had clasped around the flowers soon unclenched when he caught the sight of you.

You were wearing just a shirt, a really big shirt. Which only really meant that it belonged to him, he recalled letting you borrow his clothes if he ever accidentally tore through them in the 'heat' of the moment. Where you'd promise that you'd return it in a week or so, but it never made it's way back to him, and he has grown more than content with that prospect.

He could catch a whiff of your apartment. It reeked of instant ramen packets, and it seemed like you opened more than one. He could catch a peek at the rest of your space as well, it was dimly lit and the TV is paused. The bowl of ramen sat comfortably on the coffee table in front of the couch, there were also a lot of crumpled up tissues littered across the surface which made him assume you were literally just crying.

His suspicions were confirmed when he finally looked at your face. Eyes a little red, slighly puffy, and droplets of water hanging from your chin like you'd just washed your face. Your normally well-kept hair was a mess, and every detail of you in the moment made Miguel's heart drum loudly in his chest.

"Miguel," At last, you spoke. Voice raspier than he remembered it. "You— why are you here? If this is about work then my watch is in my bedroom, I'm sorry if I didn't answer your calls."

Yes, of course because him standing in your doorway with a wonderful bouquet of flowers and your favorite donuts definitely meant that he was here to talk about business. He shook his head, "No, I'm not here for work. Not at all."

He bestowed the gifts to you, and no matter how confused you are right now, you still gladly took them in your hands. The way that you looked up at him was an apology within itself, but you couldn't even manage to whisper the words out because what were you going to apologize for when he brought you all of this?

Oh, god. He was really going to do this, wasn't he?

"Mi sol," He got down on his knees. He got down on his knees, you wanted to gasp but it's like Miguel sucked the words straight out of your body. "I'm so sorry. I really am."

The hundreds of apologies that you dished out over the span of a few weeks could even compare how to raw Miguel's voice sounded right now. It felt so real, so true, and he's barely even said anything yet. You felt terrible that all you could really do in the moment was stare, eyes widened and expression dumbfounded.

"I broke your heart, I hurt you. You poured your heart out to me, talked about your feelings, put your trust in me, and I broke it. You don't have to believe me when I say this, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, but I was scared, fucking terrified at the thought of you leaving. You were just so perfect, so amazing on the inside and out, and I didn't want to lose that, lose you."

Miguel had no idea what was even coming out of his mouth right now, no rhyme or reason behind his words, but he didn't care. He wanted to turn off his mind for the moment, letting his heart speak for itself like he should have done eons ago.

"But," Shakily, he reached his hand out for yours. You quickly shifted the box of confectionaries to your other hand, letting him hold onto you like you were his lifeline. Like you are his lifeline. "Those are just my reasons, take them as you will. Please trust me when I say that I want to be a better lover, a better person for you. It's all you deserved, and it's all I want to give to you."

He peppers a few small kisses to your knuckles before continuing to speak, "Lo siento, cariño. I know that this is all might sound so— so idiotic, I'm not good with words. I took you for granted and discarded you, and for my ignorance, you can be mad at me for the rest of my life, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing you didn't receive any closure. Even if you don't forgive me, I just wanted to let you know that I truly am sorry. All the logic, all the facts, I'll put them aside for you. You are all that matters to me now."

The whole world went silent as Miguel squeezed his eyes shut, not even his super-human senses could pick up any background noise. You hadn't pulled your hand back yet so he continued to brush his thumb over your knuckes and veins, but he couldn't tell if it's because you were shocked or you were stunned from utter joy.

He feels his heart drop when he hears you whimper.

His eyes fly open, and he looks back up at you. Shit, you were crying again. You were crying again, and it was his fault. Although who was to say that you weren't already crying before he got here?

The hand he wrapped around yours tightened gently in a soothing gesture, but it only seemed to make you sob harder which increased his guilt. Was his apology that bad?

"You are such a liar," Shit. Maybe he should have dignified that suggestion from Lyla telling him to write this down first. "You can't just— just say all of that shit and then tell me you're bad with words."

Wait, what? Clear confusion was well written on his face from the way that his brows knitted together.

Your hand broke free from his grasp to move up his arm, his shoulder, before smoothing over his hair, tucking back the stray strands that have fallen on his face so that you can lean forward, and kiss his forehead. Even if the kiss was so small, it felt so heavenly.

Your kisses moved down to the bridge of his nose, then finally landing on his lips, the lips that you've only dreamt of kissing and now the past month of desire felt like it was slowly being satiated. Your eyes flutter close as you can feel Miguel stand up, his strong arms move to wrap around your waist, nearly lifting you off of the floor as the kiss deepens.

His hands wandered the expanse of your back, like he was trying to revise every inch of you, but you didn't blame him. Both of you needed this so much and so badly too. Every rub and soft groan spoke a hundred utterances of I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

He barely pulls back once the kiss ends, faces barely inches away from each other. You find yourself entranced in the delightful shade of red that his eyes are, you'd catch yourself bashfully staring at them before, but now? You were more than shameless about it.

"Let me inside," whispered Miguel, voice low and husky, only laced with want and need. You knew exactly what he needed. "Want to make it all up to you, please."

You couldn't do anything about it as you obliged, grabbing Miguel by the collar of his jacket, and tugging him inside your apartment. Not even a few steps in, he grabs the flowers and donuts from your grasp, sets them down on the coffee table, before pushing your body against the couch. You yelped a little, but he silenced it by capturing your lips in yet another searing kiss that you couldn't help but lean into.

All the physical affection that Miguel had given you last time didn't disappoint at all, but this just felt entirely different. His actions were saying just as much as his words, leaning his frame into yours and hungrily pressing you into the cushions.

You thought that he'd at least give you a second to breathe but he stole that from you once more as his lips travelled down, kissing along the outline of your jaw then moving down to your neck. His favorite spot, he remembered every single mark and bruise that he left on you, and he was going to make anew.

The familiar feeling of sharpness as his fangs nibbled at the flesh, you didn't even have to look down to see the marks forming and blooming in a lovely shade of red as he continued to bite.

It's not like you were any better than him though. Needy and pathetic whines that slipped out of your mouth, just a continuous string of please Miguel, need you, missed you so much, I want you so bad. It all only continued to spur him on, he murmured sweet nothings both in Spanish and English against your neck as his advances moved its way down your figure.

His rough, calloused hands had a firm grip on you, daring to slip under the hem of your shirt— no, his shirt. "Can't believe I let go of all of this," He rasped out. "Eres tan bueno conmigo, you're being so good. Letting me get a taste of you," He fed into his impulses, lifting your shirt up to expose most of your torso besides your chest.

Your nails dug into his back, free hand tangling in his locks as he continued to press more wet kisses onto your belly, then to your abdomen. As to tease you, he instead went to your thighs. His claws scraped against the plumpness of it before he took a big bite.

You keened, the hand that you had nuzzled in his hair tightened.

"Miguel, please—"

"I know, I know. Just wait a little longer, hm?"

With every peck, every coo, every single breath that he took, it all spoke the same meaning to you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

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