#❀⊱⦃ ‘You and I know / How the heartaches come and they go / and the scars they’re leaving’⏤ {Rosa. (unovasrose)} ⦄⊰❀

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey I liked your writing on reader having to get in between Wolverine and Deadpool all the time 😆 it made me think what it would be like if they were crushing on you and there is a rivalry between them. If you could write what they’d do to win your favor or what shenanigans that would come with it 😂 subtle or not

These two weren’t fond of sharing.

So when the other finds that they have similar feelings towards you, the outcome is never good.

They’re childish in a way where if either Logan or Wade was coincidentally standing too close to you, the other was bound to notice and make a scene out of it, all the while you wished you were anywhere else in that moment.

The pair couldn’t get along even if they bothered to try as sooner or later they’d end up stabbing each other just because the other one was breathing too loudly or just merely existing.

And yet their feelings towards you ends up causing Logan and Wade to butt heads more often, especially if you were constantly teaming up together, with you often being their meditator in all their conflicts.

Wade was more vocal and borderline flirty when it came to interacting with you, he would crack jokes, boop you on the nose or even playfully smack you on the ass just to hear your yelp in surprise and become all flustered.

‘Plush ass you’ve got there, babe! wouldn’t mind laying my head on it sometime and use it as a beautiful fluffy pillow.’ - Wade, skipping away.

Wade could be quite clingy at times so there would be moments where you can barely escape the guy as he hanging on your side like a koala bear.

You: Wade can you let go.

Wade: and let go of my emotional support person? *gasp* Do you want me to die?

You: well considering how fast you regenerate, you technically can’t die-

Wade: do you hate me? Do you think I’m clingy?

You: no- well yes but-

Wade: you hate me!

Wade can be dramatic and the only way to shut him up is to just let him be in close proximity of you and allow him to talk your ear off about how good a dog parents you’d be to Dogpool.

Dogpool is your weakness, you could never say no to Dogpool and Wade knows this like the back of his hand and will use this as leverage over wolverine.

After all It’s not like he has a version of himself that was an actual wolverine or maybe even a honey badger in yellow spandex. So Wade counts this as a win on his end.

Logan on the other hand would be more subtle with his approach, even though to Wade, Logan’s subtly was as an dopey cow standing in a field of grass with how the scruffier man tended to keep by your side protectively; so much so that he might as well start growling at every person who ever laid eyes on you in general.

He’s a guard dog of a man in every sense of the word but how that came to be was from a whole lot of trauma and loosing people he’s ever cared about, so needless to say he won’t act like he’s interested in you at first, his heart had been wounded about as much as his body has and even had the mental scars to prove it.

He’s lived a long life of pain, fighting, suffering and heartache. He’s not going to falter so easily until you did something that made him feel safe enough to fall for you.

Once he has however it was impossible to go about the mission without him always wanting to stand guard by your side when he sees someone he doesn’t fully trust, always using his body as a shield for your own as Logan knew he could handle much more punishment then you could. So he’d rather avoid you being grievously hurt by any means possible.

He’d probably scold you if you ever were hurt as he was afraid that he might loose you, yet his hands were gentle but firm as they worked to patch your wound so it’d heal properly.

Wolverine: you’re an idiot you know.

You: wow I really feel the love over here.

Wolverine: *huffs* you expect me to kiss your ass when what you did was reckless and could’ve killed you? *his hands linger on your own even long after he’s done patching you up as though committing your warmth to memory*

Logan is a secret softy who wouldn’t push you away if you were to ever fall asleep on him, he’d grumble but that’s about it.

He’d even toss you his jacket if you were to ever complain about being too cold or leave it somewhere for you to take yourself, again he’d act like he didn’t want you to but he actually did with how he almost smiled upon seeing you looking comfortable in his jacket.

Logan is evidently more subtle about his crush on you then Wade is, or so he’d likes to think but Wade can messily tell he’s smitten when he sees how Logan’s eyes were quick to follow you in a crowded room with protectiveness and adoration.

Wade: aww has our dear friend taken the stick out of your ass and you fell in love?

Logan: *growls* fuck off Wade.

Wade: *holds his hands to his lips and gasps* oh my gosh! You have! Me too!

Logan: *looks at him* you what?!

Wade: yeah cats out of the bag, I like them too wolvie. you’re not the only one to find them cute, how close minded of you seriously.

They can’t share to save their lives, I’ve mentioned this before but they genuinely can’t even if they tried because one is them was bound to get jealous and try to take you away from the other.

Wade: do you really want to be near me grumpy all the time? Yawn fest much.

You: stop riling him up, you’re making Logan mad. Why are you like this?

Wade: maybe because you deserve to be in the company of someone who isn’t still unhealthily hung up on his previous red headed lover.

Logan: you shut your fucking mouth.

Wade: see! He’s not denying it!

You: I’m going to go now. *leaves*

Logan: you should make full time fuck head your job.

Wade: and you should make full time teenage brooder in a full grown man’s body who still isn’t over his first breakup yours.

The shenanigans that would occur between these two would be headache inducing to say the least.

The constant fights that would break out between them that you’d have to break up.

The bickering over who gets to act like a couple with you on missions. They might even play rock, paper, scissors multiple times behind your back.

Wade probably tried to trip Logan up in front of you once but it backfired when Logan made Wade trip up instead as he puts a hand on your lower back and guided you away from the poor Merc with a mouthful of dirt.

[talesofesther]

I'll crawl home to her

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Tales of Aemond's love for you.

A/N: In Ewan's words; the only thing that can beat Aemond is love. If you like this story, you'll like my ongoing series too. ;)

Masterlist

Aemond loves you behind closed doors.

He loves you with the way his pinky hooks around yours under the tables, during supper and council meetings.

He loves you with subtle looks and barely there smiles across rooms filled with people where he can only see you.

He loves you when he comes back tasting of heartache and guilt, with raindrops or tears staining his cold skin and clothes clinging to his body. When he stumbles into your room whispering sins against your embrace only for you to kiss the words, kiss his cheeks, kiss his scar, kiss the tears away. He clings to your body, your nightgown nearly ripping with his desperation.

But it's alright, because there's only you and him and the soft light of the candles in your room. It's alright because you cradle his head, fingertips burying between wet silver locks. It's alright because you whisper forgiveness into his ears, even if he feels undeserving.

And maybe war is now inevitable, but for a fraction of a moment, Aemond feels entirely at peace.

He loves you when you watch him from afar and notice the stiffness of his shoulders, the tapping of his fingers on the table. And then you'll find an excuse to call his name and get him away from the crowds, asking for some help with something mundane. You lace your fingers together, loose and yet so present. You take a familiar route through a lone hallway, you open the doors to the library hidden away in the confines of the Keep, pull him in, and close it again.

Aemond falls to you, his forehead is leaning against yours, his eye is closed, and he can breathe. You feel like fresh air. He nuzzles his nose to yours before asking for a kiss, it's all timid and bashful, he's not sure how to love yet, all he knows is that he feels it, insistent and warm; all-consuming.

But you hold his cheeks, you guide him, you teach him. Your fingers are in his hair and your soft lips touch the corner of his mouth; all delicate and devoted, Aemond doesn't know what to do with this much love, he might crumble.

His hands are around you, all over, and he's almost afraid to hurt you; even if you promise time and time again that he could never. Aemond sighs against your lips, and it sounds a lot like; "I am yours."

He loves you because there is no need for words with you. When he holds himself back from going to you all day—between planning for a war he's fighting alone and hearing his own mother talk of him as if he were a monster—the arrival of the night feels like a reprieve. It's the moment he waits for the most, for he can lay down his armor.

Aemond walks by the garden, picking up a single blue flower. He hides it away as he walks to your chambers, no one needs to know—even if everyone already knows anyway. He gives you the blue flower, with pink on his cheeks; he feels like a young boy in love—perhaps he is.

You kiss him, sweet and soft and tasting like the blueberries you stole from the kitchen earlier. And Aemond could cry, because if he has you, he's not alone.

You're the one who takes off his eyepatch, and then his coat, and his pants, and pulls loose his hair—you brush your lips over his shoulders when you do it, and he knows no one could love him the way you do. There's nothing sexual about it even if you're the muse of all his desires. He simply lays with you in bed, his head on your chest, and you trace the outlines of his body as you speak about your day. There are goosebumps on his skin, and he loves to hear you speak, about anything and everything, it soothes his troubled soul.

It's quiet, and Aemond falls asleep with the feeling of you braiding his hair. It'll be a little curly in parts when morning comes. He never minds it.

And he loves you with the way he won't be able to speak the three words. But he'll trace and kiss them on your skin every single night. And you understand, because you always say them back.

He loves you because of the way you sometimes hold the tip of his fingers with yours behind your backs.

He loves you with the way he'll threaten death to anyone who looks at you wrong.

He loves you with the way he could burn the whole world and yet not let a single flame touch your skin.

He loves you because you'll kiss his lips even if he tastes of blood and war.

He loves you because you'll hold his pieces together when everyone else is trying to tear him apart.

He loves you because even in the darkest of days, you're always there in the end.

He loves you because even if you exchange nothing but glances when amidst other people, you'll embrace his very soul in private.

He loves you because you wait with bathed breath when he takes Vhagar to the skies, and never think twice about mounting on a horse to gallop towards the woods outside of King's Landing when you spot the dragon's large silhouette bringing him back.

You jump from the white horse, Aemond jumps from Vhagar, and you meet each other in the middle. He holds you close in a needy embrace, as if each minute could be the last. And when you pull back, you don't ask questions or make demands, you simply run your thumbs over his cheekbones and breathe easiness into his skin. The feeling of you is always like coming home.

Amidst a world of war, you're a safe haven.

He loves you because you are the one who taught him what love feels like.

Aemond loves you behind closed doors. Wholly, truly, passionately. And with all of him that no one else is allowed to see.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Aemond's taglist is open, let me know if you'd like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[lunarxcity]

Why Choose? (Part IX to Why me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort (Eris, Azriel, and Jealousy. Do I need to say more?)

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, and VIII if you missed them!

-

You wake up cold, like a blanket has been ripped off of you in your sleep. You see a blanket is laid over your shoulders and then the previous night comes rushing back to you.

You blew up at Azriel for his lack of remorse over the years for the way he's treated you, how he's made you feel second to those in his life. You held it together and didn't accidentally reveal to him everything that he was to you both in title and feeling.

You were still upset with Azriel, a single conversation isn't going to patch up hundreds of years of heartache, but this was progress. He apologised to you and from the tears that had left his eyes, you knew that he meant it.

Your cheeks begin to heat up when you remembered how your night had ended and the phantom feeling of a scarred had pressed against your cheek. You looked to your left and saw that your desk chair had been moved right beside your bed, so he had stayed for a while and had left.

There's a part of you that wished he had stayed. The part that is fighting against you to tell him everything and to tug on the bond and convince him to be yours, but you know that you deserve much better than trying to convince someone to want you. At your most desperate you might have entertained the idea, but not now, not after everything.

The hurt from watching him pine after another woman so clearly in front of you was something you couldn't get out of your system. The image burned into your mind, and the feelings burned into your heart. Twice had this happened with members of your family and not once had you been the one to be the subject of his obsession.

He apologised. He said everything was over with Elain and he's been over Mor for years. The longer you dwell on it, the further you let yourself stray into that dark place the farther you will be from Azriel.

You decided to put the thoughts of inadequacy away. You were so accomplished in your own right and what Azriel thinks or doesn't think doesn't affect that. So you decided to do what you do best and get back to work. You got up and started getting ready for your day filled with productivity and emptied from thoughts of the shadowsinger.

-

You had to fight your way out of the house of wind, your brother insisted that you needed at least a week to rest and recuperate before launching yourself right back into work. Your stubbornness is a trait that you and Rhys had always shared which drove your poor mother mad in your early years.

He tried to grab you, likely to throw you onto his shoulder and march you to Cauldron knows where telling you to go do something relaxing, but you evaded his grasp winnowing directly to the hall of healing.

The next thing you knew you were on the ground a potted tree beneath you and dirt all over the floor. Madja looked at you from her desk with all the patience she could muster.

Madja had been the royal healer as long as you could remember and probably long before that. She was almost family to you and Rhys and the closest thing to a maternal figure that you had left.

She was stern, but kind and the one thing she hated most of all was untidiness. This likely explained the scolding look she had on her face as you did just knock down one of her plants.

She lets out a sigh, but the warmth in her eyes betrays her. "I'm glad to see you're back, but you do know you're supposed to take a few days for yourself before jumping straight into work?"

You are suddenly a child again who broke your mother's vase trying to guiltily hide all the broken pieces that your life had know become. Madja knew you almost better than anyone, would she know about the whole ordeal of the mating bond and Azriel.

You give her an exaggerated smile, obviously trying to get back on her good side. "Well, I couldn't wait to see you."

You hold your arms out for a hug and she smiles back and brings you in to a tender embrace and for a moment everything is okay. She's stroking your hair and you feel like a kid again in the warmth of your mother's arms.

"Well I've missed you too." She leads you to her desk to begin your work since logistics always came first which meant that today would be a paperwork day.

Her back is turned and you follow her. She clears her throat and states, "It's always good to see you, even if you are using me as a distraction and an excuse from dealing with your mating bond with the shadowsinger."

Your face blanks and she gives you a sly smile. Shame on you for thinking you could get anything past her, this woman could have all of Velaris in her hand if she chose to.

"You knew?" You ask her, wondering what exactly had given it away.

She just smiles fondly, "My child I had always known. Me and your mother had placed bets on how long it would take for you two to finally come together."

At that you had a million questions you wanted to ask her, each one dancing on the tip of her tongue but she interrupts you before you could get a word in.

"I thought you came here for a distraction? This seems like quite the opposite from that." She gives you a knowing look and you nod in response.

"Yes so about the paperwork-"

-

FIrst day was exhausting. No real research was done, it was a purely paperwork day. Locating certain texts, registering you as Madja's apprentice, and ordering all that you would need to begin your work.

It seems like lounging around in Autumn had accustomed you to laziness because you were tired down to the bone. So tired you had barely been able to winnow, but you somehow winnowed yourself directly into your bed as it had been all you were able to think about.

You could lie down for 10-15 minutes and then you could go downstairs and scour the kitchen for food. You had stayed a lot later than intended, not realising that it was almost midnight and you were famished.

You forced your eyes open and they noticed an extra addition on your desk that had not been there when you left. You throw yourself onto your feet and trudge over. You see that you had been brought a plate of tonights dinner.

Meat and potatoes with greens and some sort of fragrant juice. You could almost cry at the sight. Your stomach roared and you sat down to eat.

It was still warm and you didn't want to think too much about who brought it here. You knew it wasn't the house because of the elaborate plating. The food sat on a silver tray dressed with a lace cloth, the napkins folded to perfection, and a silver goblet as accompaniment.

A singular white rose sat on the tray with a blue ribbon tied on it's stem; The color of renewal, forgiveness, and new beginnings. You knew this had to be Azriel's doing and the shadow that you saw scurrying off in the corner of your eye confirmed it.

You were frankly too tired and too hungry to do anything about it. If Azriel was trying to get in to your good graces through kind gestures it would take a lot more than that to smooth out everything between you two. For now you didn't dwell on it too much there was an eternity to be upset with him, you thanked him in your head and ate your dinner.

Much too tired to be bothered with anything else. You had changed into your nightclothes and threw yourself on the bed letting exhaustion take you over for the night.

-

Sleep finds you and she is restless as if trying to prove to you that Azriel's presence is a comforting blanket that gently guides you to her.

You are awakened by a loud crash from your balcony. Fear floods your system at the possibilities of who the intruder could be. How did they bypass the wards? Are they coming for you?

You shoot up as your balcony doors open to reveal the heir of Autumn in dark green pajamas, a brown robe, and slippers. If only your court could see him now, their fearsome enemy in fuzzy slippers with little puff balls for ears to make them resemble a bear.

Eris' room is right above yours and you thought that would stop him from dragging you into any late night antics. Apparently you were wrong as it is the perfect place to be to drop down onto your balcony in the middle of the night.

You know you look sleep haggered and you're too cranky to care. "What do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the heir of Autumn in his teddy bear slippers."

Eris retorts back with a scoff. "The bear is a formidable, fearsome, and very respected animal. Many consider me to bear the same qualities you know.'

His grin is filled with mischief and you are too tired to deal with him right now. "Do they same about the teddy bear because that's what your slippers are closer to resembling."

He looks offended and you launch a pillow at his face before he has a chance to retort.

"And to think I came here to bring you a gift." Your eyes immediately light up, curious as to what Eris could have possibly brought you.

He sighs, "I wanted to make sure you had a piece of Autumn here in the Night Court." He pulls out the fox you and Lucien had chased down on Solstice, the night that had started this all. Your first night in Autumn.

The fox nearly bites him and you laugh, "I can see why you wanted to give her back to me."

"Well, she might miss her siblings, so you will have to come back to Autumn in case she gets lonely.

He cracks a soft smile, so uncharacteristic to his malicious grins you've become accustomed to.

"Who knows after Beron is overthrown my court will have an open position for a Night Court princess and her moody fox should she ever want it. I'm talking about the fox of course."

You smile, "Oh yes I will definitely keep that in mind if she becomes too bored in Night. I am also talking about the fox of course."

Your touching moment was ruined by a soft knock on the door.

Eris looks at you with a shit-eating grin and he saunters to the door, "Well this was lovely princess, but I'm afraid your brooding mate is kicking me out. He's probably not too happy at my presence."

He is enjoying this way too much for your liking. That bastard.

He opens the door, and just like he says, the shadowsinger is standing there. Dark hair touseled as if he was harshly yanked from sleep and eyes rapidly scanning the room for any threats.

He meets Eris' gaze and you see shock and then pure disdain fills his eyes. He gives Eris a look so vile, you would have thought that he was going to put Eris to death for committing some heinous crime.

"Eris." His words at short and as sharp as the blade at his hip.

"I assume you were the intrusion that I heard." No smile. No even semblance of kindness or cordiality. Just pure anger? Disgust?

He looks at Azriel and then you and then back at Azriel. Still holding his smirk he goes, "I was just taking my leave."

He saunters out of the room hands in mock surrender. Thankfully deciding to take the door this time.

He closes the door behind him leaving you and Azriel alone since your emotional discussion? Arguement? You didn't even know what it was.

That teary emotional Azriel was very different from the Azriel currently in front of you. His face was set in the mask of the shadowsinger, the cold indifference that he shows the rest of the world.

You knew he wasn't Eris' biggest fan, but the shadowsinger was acting as if Eris had personally wronged him. Fully brooding it was almost comical that he would let Eris' presence affect him this much.

He clears his throat and blinks. The malice clears from his eyes and he's back to being your Azriel. Quiet and stoic at times yes, but not cruel never towards you.

He rakes you over with his eyes and exhales a sigh of relief. "Are you alright? I thought I heard you scream."

You don't remembering eliciting a sound at Eris' unexpected presence, but the fear may have clouded your memory.

You give him a reassuring nod. "Yes I am. Eris just just the worst time possible to give me my gift, you can go back to sleep now."

At the mention of a gift he begins to look over the room, trying to find the new addition. When suddenly your fox jumps on his back from the dresser.

The fox was accustomed to pouncing on your shadow and well Azriel was flanked by a whole lot of them. They were tightly worn up too, probably reflecting the state of their master. This made them that much more enticing to your fox who was now perched on Azriel's shoulder, swatting at the shadow's.

The shadowsinger was surprisingly unphased, he looked at the fox, shrugged, and just let the fox do this thing. Maybe it's true what they say about how the key to attracting animals is to not pay them any attention. If you could only tell that to your younger self who had chased wild bunnies to no avail.

The sight of sleepy Azriel, messy hair and forgotten shirt, holding your pet fox had stirred something in you. You try to convince yourself that it's the tiredness getting to you, but the most handsome male you have ever seen is shirtless in front of you playing with your pet fox it's basic math that you would be looking and looking you were.

The shadowsinger, all keen senses didn't even need to spare you a glance to know what you were doing. "You're staring." He informs you unceremoniously.

You cheeks heat up and you try to maintain your composure as much as someone who has just been caught unabashedly staring can.

"I had to make sure you didn't drop her. Call it a precaution...for her safety..." You cringe at your obvious attempt to cover up your actions.

"I didn't tell you to stop." His eyes shine with playfulness, it's a challenge he's never extended to you. What is going on?

The disbelief must have been written clean across your features because he gives you a small chuckle.

He goes on like he didn't say anything previously at all. "Now we wouldn't want anything bad to happen to her. Well anything else considering she already had to deal with Eris."

You were about to interrupt him telling him to be nice to Eris, he's a guest of this court, but he gently takes the fox off his shoulder and puts her in your arms.

Your hands brush, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot up your spine. You feel the bond beginning you to seen, beginning to be acknowledged, beginning to be felt. Azriel has always been hot and cold, but he had never been this hot? Banter with Azriel was always teasing, but never flirty. Were you reading it wrong? Mother above what is happening? Azriel was killing you.

If that wasn't enough the final nail in the coffin is when he bends down and starts to talk to the fox he just put into your arms.

"There we go. You're in very good hands now. I do have to say I'm jealous." He pets the foxes head and it borderline purrs.

Is this a dream? You must be dreaming right now, everything from the moment you woke up has been surreal.

"This isn't a dream. Does the fact that you think it is mean you dream of me often?" He is slightly smirking.

You look at him, just pure confusion on your face. "Azriel are you okay? Are you possessed by the ghost of Cassian or something?"

This almost snaps him out of whatever trance he must have been in. "It must be the exhaustion loosening my tongue."

You both laugh at this. Half delirious in your sleep-deprived state.

He gives you a bow, now much too formal. "Azriel what is this are you a courtier now? This is all so uncharacteristic of you, you must truly be exhausted."

At this he just gives up. He sighs and walks towards you and surprises you by picking you up bridal style and throwing you on your bed.

"Goodnight princess. Try not to dream of me too much." He says as he takes his leave from your room.

"You-" He closes the door before you can get a retort in.

"Bastard." You now say into the darkness of night. It's fine his shadows can deliver the message for you.

Your fox jumps up on the bed and curls up next to your face. For the second time tonight you let sleep take you and this time she takes you gently and swiftly.

-

Somewhere in a realm that is neither here nor there the Mother is looking at Fate as if she were about to kill him. "How did you manage to get that piece back on the chessboard? That's not even a legal chess move."

Fate responds with a coy smile, "It's not just chess darling. It's life. Besides, I see myself in the young Autumn princeling "

She responds to him with a warm smile, which contradicts the chess piece she launches at his head.

He ducks it as if though he was already anticipating that outcome. Fate knows the mother all too well.

"Good we didn't need the Tamlin piece anyways." He stills for a moment, like he's remembering the high lord of spring, and then visibly cringes.

The Mother didn't laugh. She has been playing this game for much too long now and longs to see you and Azriel happy.

She has her own plans in store for the heir of Autumn. Plans that didn't involve you, but now his piece is back on the board it seems.

"We only get the most desperate when we feel as if that which we love is going to be taken from us." Fate grabs her hand over the table, a gesture meant to calm the fire that is burning in her eyes.

"You made them mates my love and I would never interfere with your divine plan. I am just as invested in their success as you are, I just think it's time for Azriel to have some competition."

At this the Mother smiles, "Interfering for the better? Meddling for the betterment of people's lives? Who are you and what did you do to the man I fell in love with?"

At this Fate smiles. He knows the mother was going to win this game one way or another, but he also knows that the more competitive he makes it, the happier she will be when she finally crushes him. Godspeed Azriel.

part x

-

note: Here is the jealousy you all wanted our shadowsinger has very interesting way of coping with this feeling. Is he trying to be more like Eris because he thinks that what the reader wants? Is he processing his emotions healthily? Or is he just uninhibited? Who knows? (except for me hahahaha). I am sorry if we have hit a bit of a lull in the story I can either continue putting out more shorter chapters every few days or do one long chapter a week feel free to lmk what you guys prefer. Until next time my darlings!

note note: This is so unedited I can almost sense the typos...

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[meinii]

“heartache”

summary: Zayne is at work and you miss him, so you go visit him ‧₊˚♡

content: fluff

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

the moment you stepped into the pristine hospital, the scent of antiseptic and faint traces of Zayne’s cologne filled your senses. your heart pounded—not from sickness, but from anticipation. you had rehearsed this scenario in your head countless times, trying to come up with a believable excuse to see him without seeming desperate. but now, as you sat in the waiting area, your fingers twisted the hem of your sweater, nerves threatening to betray you.

Zayne had always been busy, always running from one patient to the next, his time a luxury you rarely got to steal. the only moments you had with him were fleeting— hushed conversations over the phone, rare dinners cut short by emergency calls. you missed him more than you could admit. and so, you found yourself here, faking an illness just to have a few minutes with him.

“miss?” the receptionist called, snapping you out of your thoughts “Dr. Zayne will see you now”

a rush of excitement and guilt filled you as you stood up, adjusting your expression to appear convincingly unwell. you rubbed your forehead for good measure, as if you had a headache, and walked into his office.

Zayne looked up from his desk, his eyes immediately softening when they landed on you. he was dressed in his usual white coat, his sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the strong forearms covered in scars you had admired more times than you’d admit. his gaze scanned you with the practiced concern of a doctor, but there was something else in his expression—an amused glint, perhaps?

“hey,” he greeted, standing up “didn’t expect to see you here. what’s wrong?”

you swallowed, reminding yourself to act the part. “I—I think my heart’s been acting weird lately,” you said, hoping the irony wasn’t too obvious.

his lips twitched, as if suppressing a smile “weird how?”

you hesitated, then placed a hand over your chest

“it races a lot. and sometimes it feels��� off”

he nodded, his professional demeanor never slipping, though there was undeniable warmth in his eyes ���let’s check it out”

he gestured for you to sit on the examination table, and you complied, trying not to overthink the way his fingers brushed against your wrist as he took your pulse. his touch was gentle, yet it sent a shiver down your spine

“your heart rate is a little fast,” he murmured, tilting his head “are you nervous?”

you forced out a weak laugh “I mean, I am in a doctor’s office.”

he hummed as he listened to your heartbeat through his stethoscope, his face unreadable. when he pulled away, his gaze locked onto yours

“you’re not sick,” he stated simply

your breath caught “what?”

his lips curved slightly “your heart’s racing, but not because of any medical condition. you’re perfectly fine” he leaned back against the desk, folding his arms “you came here to see me, didn’t you?”

your cheeks burned, the weight of your own foolishness pressing down on you. “I just… I miss you, Zayne. you’re always busy, and I know your work is important, but I—”

before you could finish, he let out a soft chuckle and reached for your hand. his thumb brushed over your knuckles, a reassuring touch.

“you could’ve just said that,” he murmured “you don’t have to pretend to be sick for my attention”

you lowered your gaze, embarrassment curling in your stomach “I didn’t want to bother you”

Zayne sighed, tilting your chin up so you’d meet his eyes again. “you’re never a bother to me. I should’ve realized sooner how much you needed me” his voice softened “I’ll take some time off”

your eyes widened “Zayne, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.” He squeezed your hand gently “I’ve been too caught up in work. but nothing is more important than you”

relief and joy washed over you, your heart racing for all the right reasons now.

[twopoppies]

“Me best mate,” you say?

x

IIRC, the first time Louis mentioned ABBA was during his promo with Steve Aoki for JHO. He was asked what his guilty pleasure music was and he said ABBA. Jay had just passed the month before, and the thought of Harry singing these lyrics to Louis is so tender it makes me want to die.

Chiquitita

[Verse 1]

Chiquitita, tell me what's wrong

You're enchained by your own sorrow

In your eyes, there is no hope for tomorrow

How I hate to see you like this

There is no way you can deny it

I can see that you're oh, so sad, so quiet

[Verse 2]

Chiquitita, tell me the truth

I'm a shoulder you can cry on

Your best friend, I'm the one you must rely on

You were always sure of yourself

Now I see you broken and fettered

(How it hurts to see you cry)

(And how it hurts to see you sad)

I hope we can patch it up together

[Chorus]

Chiquitita, you and I know

How the heartaches come and they go

And the scars they're leaving

You'll be dancing once again

And the pain will end

You will have no time for grieving

Chiquitita, you and I cry

But the sun is still in the sky

And shining above you

(Even though you cry)

(The sun is shining in the sky)

Let me hear you sing once more

(So let me hear you sing some more)

Like you did before

(The way you used to do before)

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Try once more, like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

[Verse 3]

So the walls came tumbling down

And your love's a blown-out candle

All is gone, and it seems too hard to handle

Chiquitita, tell me the truth

There is no way you can deny it

I see that you're oh, so sad, so quiet

[Chorus]

Chiquitita, you and I know

How the heartaches come and they go

And the scars they're leaving

(You and I, we know)

(How all the heartaches come and go)

You'll be dancing once again

(You’ll be dancing once again)

And the pain will end

(And all the pain you take will end)

You will have no time for grieving

Chiquitita, you and I cry

But the sun is still in the sky

And shining above you

(Even though you cry)

(The sun is shining in the sky)

Let me hear you sing once more

(So let me hear you sing some more)

Like you did before

(The way you used to do before)

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Try once more, like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

[Outro]

Try once more, like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

[meiieiri]

𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 [geto suguru]

synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, angst, explicit sex.

a/n: i know, i know. i should be writing WE but this concept has been in my head far longer than WE and i just need to get it out there or else, i think i’m gonna go insane. if anyone wants to know the plot of this would have been fic, feel free to let me know lmao, of course it still involves gojo bc i can’t choose between the two of them since they’re both so baby girl—! also happy birthday to the loml, my pookie-wookie, honeybunch, suguru geto!!

It’s been a year since the happy side trip to Okinawa became a living nightmare that culminated in you, Suguru Geto, and Satoru Gojo on the brink of death and with many more scars than you could have ever imagined. The three of you had very different ideas on how to cope. Satoru spends the past year perfecting his cursed technique, often at the expense of his emotional well-being and energy but then again, after what Toji Fushiguro did to him leaving him with the trauma of being slaughtered without regard, it was only natural.

You and Suguru on the other hand retreated into yourselves; it was hard to believe that just a year before the two of you were a normal teenage couple who enjoyed walking the trendy streets of Shibuya in the weekend sunshine without a care in the world, whose only real problem is to decide where the two of you were gonna have your weekly dates.

Now, things were different. Rainclouds have gathered effectively blocking out the sun. As you sat on the desk reading through your textbook on reverse cursed technique, you glance at Suguru from time to time and you aren’t the least bit surprised to see him sitting by the dorm room’s windowsill, staring at the garden with an empty gaze.

You’ve had enough of this. This eternal state of limbo was tearing you and Suguru apart.

Slowly, you stand up from the desk, softly padding across the wooden floor to where your boyfriend is. It was the middle of the night, last you checked, it’s already nine in the evening. You should be heading back to the women’s dorms now but you couldn’t, not when things were like this, not when Suguru’s losing himself day after day, you can’t help him, you know that, but you could be there for him seeing that’s all you can do.

But even then, it’s never enough.

Your relationship with Suguru is like a lit dynamite stick, you know that it’s only a matter of time before it also explodes in your faces. So, Suguru takes the lead, like he always does, he’s so much wiser and stronger than you in every way though he doesn’t care to admit it, though he pretends he doesn’t know why you’re so dependent on him.

“I think we should break up.”

He says that while holding your hand. You saw this coming but just how long did you anticipate that the love of your life would eventually up and leave you? You squeeze his hand with every ounce of the grief you are feeling hoping it would transcend the confines of your skin and it would reach his heart. “Is that what you really want?”

“No.”

He stands up to meet your gaze, the throw blanket falling to the floor as he does. He leans in closer, his hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness and heartache that you feel your heart rise to your throat. Suguru is normally so gentle like a shower of midnight rain, but he kisses you like this is the last — it probably is. Lost in him, your hands trail over his chest, and he deepens the kiss hoping that you’d also understand that he doesn’t really want to leave but he has to. He can’t bear to drag you into his mess.

He could never do that to you.

You respond with a soft moan when Suguru slowly lifts your shirt over your head. He stares at your plump breasts for a moment, covered only by a thin lace-like material, before deciding that looking at you wasn’t enough. He has to take you, ravish you, fondle you, kiss you. Anything to let you know that he’s not doing this because he’s fallen out of love with you.

“Don’t leave,” you plead in between his soft kisses to your breasts, tears slipping from your eyes as he removes your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders which he was now kissing up to the crook of your neck. How could your hearts be so full yet so empty at the same time?

None of what happened should have caused this much heartache between the two of you. In fact, it should have made you rely on each more, right? It should have strengthened you not destroy everything you had: each other, the future you planned together.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he nips at your neck, sucking on the delicate flesh, as your forms gracefully fall on the bed, he stares at you with such love, such devotion, and you wonder why this should be the last time. His gaze falls to your vulnerable form, his cock hardening at the sight of your clothed pussy getting wet just from that. He grinds against you, sighing at the way you buck your hips to meet his wanting more of him. If this was to be the last time, then, you want to make it count.

“Suguru, I’m yours.” That’s all he needs to hear and he removes your underwear, kissing down your leg as he slips it off of you. He tosses it onto his nightstand, and he leans towards it to grab a condom from his drawer. You catch his hand. “Don’t. I want to feel you.”

Suguru’s eyes widen at your request, his lips eliciting short huffs of breath. He’s never fucked you raw before. “Are you sure?”

You nod against his forehead. “Please. Please fuck me, Su.”

Slowly, his hand guiding his tip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness along the base of his cock before slowly pushing into you savoring the sensation of your cunt squeezing around him as he stretches you with his girth. A deep groan betrays him and his mouth hangs open as your tight walls envelop him as he bottoms out. He takes a moment to collect himself, not wanting to cum right then and there.

“S-shit. Ah, you’re so fucking tight.” He allows himself a small thrust, the tip of his cock already nudging your sensitive spot, having memorized you after many desperate nights of lovemaking. His fingers grip the soft skin of your hips as he pulls out momentarily before pushing back in again more forcefully this time.

“S-su! Mngh—please fuck me—I love you, I love you, I love you,” you beg.

A tear slips from Suguru’s eyes, it was becoming more real now — this final goodbye. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he slowly builds up the pace of his thrusts, his cock bullying your cunt, driving himself in and out of your pussy, again and again. He brings your leg to his waist, holding it so he could angle himself better. “I love you too.”

You mewl as he pistons in and out of you, his balls slapping hard against your skin. “Sugu—ah! More—n-need more of you—“ You’re crying now, and he is too as he continues to ravage your pussy, his hand finds your other leg and he pushes your knees close to your chest, folding you into a deep mating press, slamming into your cunt.

“I’m yours. Always,” Suguru looks into your eyes amidst your desperate cries, your thighs trembling under his passionate gaze. He grunts when he feels the familiar tightening of your walls. “You’re close—fuck,” he takes this as an incentive to go faster, harder, and he fucks you in a way he never has before.

“So good—oh—“ you fall silent as he suddenly brings your hands to your clit, letting you touch yourself. You looked so beautiful like this, under him, your head thrown back against the pillows, your mouth primed in a silent ‘o’. He pants as he feels his balls tighten when your hips involuntarily buck into him as you climax. “Suguru!”

“Ah, baby…” He groans, the hot breath from his lips tickling your forehead as he rides out his high, spilling his seed into you not caring what the consequences may be. You did want this after all, and he did too. You feel full just from the sensation of his thick cum, he thrusts into you one last time, further smearing his release in your walls.

You sighed as he stays there, your weak and trembling arms coming up to embrace him. He strokes your hair, memorizing each lock, pulling out after a while. Suguru pulls you flush against his chest, the remnants of his and your release sliding down your thighs. “It’ll be okay,” Suguru catches his breath, kissing your temple. “Even without me. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t…you know I won’t.”

“You will.” He says firmly. “I promise. You know me, baby, I never break my promises.” You feel tears well up in your eyes again and he tenderly wipes it away. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

By the next morning, you already knew with the way the AC’s cold air nips at your skin without Suguru, your Suguru, there to embrace you that he’s already left.

Without a note, without a goodbye. Typical of Suguru who doesn’t want to stick around to see you cry.

You curl into yourself as sobs wrack your body, the promise ring Suguru gave you gleaming under the rays of morning sunlight.

A few years later, just as Suguru said, things did get better. You smiled as you arranged the last of the tempura into the bento box filled with soba noodles with nori and small containers of mentsuyu and wasabi. It’s amazing how much she takes after him. You look at the clock and your face pales. You’re running late, so, you head upstairs to speed things up a little. You creak open the door to see the little blessing of your life, the last gift Suguru ever gave you. She’s looking at the picture of you and Suguru which you placed in her room, and since you know it was highly unlikely she’ll ever meet your lover in this lifetime, you’ve decided you want her to know him if by his appearance alone and the stories you tell her.

“Riko? We’re gonna be late,” you gently reminded your four-year-old daughter. You shoot her a funny look when you see the haphazard way she placed her hair in a bun. She pouts as she tries to get it right again, looking at her father’s picture intently. “Sweetheart, are you trying to look like—?”

“Like papa,” she huffs cutely and you chuckle, moving to pick her up and sit her down on your lap. Kissing her cheek, you also gaze at the picture depicting a candid you and Suguru during your first year at Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, winking at the camera as he kisses your cheek, a silent gleeful laugh on your face.

You look at her, a little confused, you gently smooth her hair before planting a kiss between her eyebrows. “And why do you want to look like papa?” Riko shyly looks away, her ears turning a little red as she blushes, a trait she inherited from you. You flick her nose, giggling. “Well?” Riko laughs at the playful gesture.

“…So you don’t cry anymore, mama.” Your heart seems to have stopped beating for a moment and a warm, tearful smile appears on your face, wrapping Riko in a bone-crushingly tender hug. “Love you…” she sinks into the warmth of your hug and you kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Riko. So…so…much.”

At that, your little girl sighs in relief. “School?” she tilts her head and you suddenly remembered the reason you went upstairs. You had to get moving. Your eyes widened and you carry her downstairs, being careful not to jostle her too much. “My hair, mama!” she giggles at her still unruly hair and you grimace in embarrassment. Suddenly, the front door opens and Riko sees who it is, before you could grab the spare brush from your bag, she suddenly jumps out of your arms and makes a beeline for the door.

“Papa, papa!”

You turn around and though the sight pains you to this day, somehow, you’re starting to learn to live with the fact that things are always bound to change with time and that this is what Suguru would have wanted: a loving and complete family for his little girl. You wrap Riko’s bento and place it in her lunchbox before going to greet the visitor.

“Hi, babe.” He turns to meet your lips for a sweet kiss, balancing Riko in his strong arms.

“Good morning, Satoru.”

[alienseasfanfics]

Friction: Part 3

Series: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | AO3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!traumatized!reader Overall Summary: When you're targeted by a violent stalker, Sam sends Bucky to guard you in a remote safehouse. You clash instantly, but in the growing tension, something more fragile begins to take root. If you can learn to trust him in time. No Thunderbolts spoilers!

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Reluctant Attraction, Forced Proximity, Yearning, Protective Bucky/Reader.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: trauma response/disassociation, general violence, bombs, gun mention, kidnapping/experimentation. Reader is hard on herself for a bit :,)

You wake up with a headache and a heartache, legs twisted in the sheets and eyes closed from sleep.

The dreams you get when you’re asleep are horrible, but the reality of being awake is just as bad. Even with the hangover drowning out your thoughts with pain, everything from last night is crystal clear. The bar. The seedy man whose arm snaked its way around your waist. If the alcohol hadn’t numbed your world, the whole night would have blown up then. Your wrists feel heavy with the memory of invisible handcuffs.

And still somehow, the worst part was Bucky. The thought of him, watching from whatever dark corner he melts away into, then coming to your rescue. The fact you needed it is shameful.

Weakness. A word you know too well. One that you know you don’t want to show, especially not to him.

Then, of course, the car. ‘A shield, not a bomb’. How deadly ironic. How sweet. Why did he have to say it then, after you already humiliated yourself?

‘I would do that again for you in a heartbeat.’ He’d said it like a promise, but he doesn’t know what he’s promising that to. All he sees is someone pitiful and small, not the person that’ll hurt him if he gets too close.

And that’s the worst part of it all. You’d take the cuffs if it meant it kept you away from him. It would be easier if he hated you, but the new fact that he doesn’t is worse. That means he’ll try to connect.

Your body is a trap waiting to spring. Why does he insist on keeping with you, as if he’s looking to be caught?

Creaking from the top of the stairs breaks you out of your whirling thoughts. You slow your breathing, trying to sound as if you’re asleep.

Thankfully, the landing creaks again, and you hear the low thunks of his footsteps going down the stairs. Letting out a sigh, you finally open your eyes to the dim room. Time to seize the day.

It takes you ten minutes to get up. Your headache gets worse once vertical.

As you get downstairs, Bucky looks at you over his shoulder, newspaper open in his hands. His clenched jaw softens as he looks you over. You wave a little, feeling a little silly but not wanting to speak. The corner of his mouth flicks up.

“Hey, party queen. How you feelin’?” He chirps.

“Ugh.”

“To be expected. Have some coffee.” He waves a hand towards the steaming cup on the table next to him. After a moment you go over, standing on the other side of the couch as you take the mug. The heat from it easily warms your cold fingertips, and you rub your thumb on the handle. He glances up from the paper, then fully looks up at you before folding the paper and tossing it onto the coffee table.

He looks back at you, leaning back and resting a metal elbow on the armrest, rubbing his stubbly beard with the same hand. He says nothing, just watching you as you drink, using the coffee to stop any words from bubbling out. You know what they would be. Either small pitiful things to make yourself smaller, or barbs to scare him off. Maybe he would take the bait, leaving you alone. Maybe that would help the pit in your stomach.

You look over him, avoiding his stormy blue eyes. Instead, you look at the rest of him, scanning his shirt, his pants, his tanned hand resting on the seat of the pleather couch and playing absentmindedly with the seam. He has a scar on his knuckle. You sip and wonder where he got it from, if it hurt. He scratches his throat and breaks the silence himself.

“You hungover?”

“Nah, I usually wake up with a pounding headache and an aversion to sunlight.” You say dryly. The corner of his mouth tugs up.

“You sound like a vampire.”

“I am. If you aren’t careful, I’ll suck you dry.”

“Hmm. Really? Didn’t think you were that kind of girl.”

You blush lightly, bringing the mug to your lips longer in an effort to hide your cheeks. He still must see it, with that never-ending gaze of his, because he flashes a wolfish smile that makes your chest flutter horribly. You cough before you answer.

“You’re a dirty old man.”

“Hey, I didn’t say it. All you, doll.” He says, like it’s nothing.

Nicknames aren’t new to you, but this one is different. It lands differently when coming from him. You’re not sure why it comforts you. Maybe it’s the roughness of his voice, or the slight twang of an old accent coming through. It sounds distinctly like him, a piece of his inner voice given briefly as an offering.

He stretches as he gets up, letting out a quiet grunt as he raises his arms above his head. His thin t-shirt clings to him, tanned skin peeking out from between its hem and his jeans. His metal arm glitters in the sunlight creeping in through the closed blinds. As he lets go of the stretch, he sighs, the tension in his shoulders melting away. You look away quickly enough that you can pretend that you haven’t looked, distracted instead by coffee and the dregs of sleep still left in your eyes.

He steps towards you and your body reacts first, backing away from him quickly. He pauses, showing his hands, palms open towards you as if surrendering.

“I’m just going to the kitchen.” He says quietly, as if speaking to an animal crouched in the corner. You get onto the couch and fold your legs against your chest, making yourself unobtrusive. He sidesteps you, keeping the distance you’ve made between you both. Once he leaves, you stretch out, rubbing your feet on the rough rug on the floor.

“I gotta fix somethin’ in the car today. Tried going out this morning for coffee and it wasn’t working. So, I’m sorry, but this is the last cup until I can get that going again.” That piques your interest. You quickly turn on the couch to face him. He glances over at you and his brow raises a little, quizzical. “You that addicted to caffeine? It’ll just take me a few hours, I promise.”

“No, no. What happened to the car?”

“Brakes weren’t responding like I’d like them to last night. We were slipping a bit.” Your brain whirs through a million possible reasons, the engine and body of the sedan outside opening in your imagination.

“Common. It was shuddering, right?” The rumbles of the car beneath your legs last night was an afterthought in your drunk mind, but the information comes quickly to the forefront sober. “Sounds like the rotors are warped. 2012 Honda Civic parts come cheap, at least. Still got to wait for them.” You sip again, glancing up at him. His eyes are wide, and you stop mid-drink.

“What?” You ask. Then, he chuckles. It’s a low rumble that washes over you like fireworks.

“You know all that? You’re a mechanic now?” He asks. You bristle, but the look in his eyes is true, admiring instead of accusing. You shrug a shoulder, relaxing and putting the mug down. Bracing yourself on an elbow, you half-turn towards him.

“Nah. Civics are some of the easiest cars to repair.”

“Done it often?”

“Not on 2012’s. Not really even on cars. I’ve mainly worked on pieces of them. Some basic machines, too. They’re all parts at the end of the day; you just have to know how each one works.” Your gaze is firmly on him, but anywhere other than his eyes.

He’s leaning against the counter now, the small of his back pressed against the lip and his arms crossed over his chest. He leans into the room like it belongs to him. Either that, or its a farce. Covering discomfort with confidence. Sometimes, when he thinks you’re avoiding him, he’s curled in on himself. Bent over the table with his arms on either side of his head, as if he’s a boxer defending his face. Now, he’s free and open.

“Wanna come help?” He asks, breaking your thoughts, and your heart leaps against your ribs.

“Really? Help? Or do you just wanna make me do it?” You joke, but you ask.

“I won’t make you do anything, doll.” You match his gaze. You say nothing for a moment, and neither does he as he waits. For you to talk. The words stick in your throat but you force them through anyway.

“Yeah. I’d like to.”

-

“Can you hand me – yeah, thank you.” You place the wrench he needs in his outstretched metal hand, being careful not to touch him. Even with him under the car and you on an upside-down bucket a couple feet away, you feel too close to him. He wheels back under the chassis on the repurposed skateboard you found in the old garage the car is sitting in to keep you both away from the sun.

It was small in here, dark and dank with the smell of gas, grease, and the sickening wisps of cigarettes from the inside of the car. Hot sun streamed through the open garage door. You let your head loll back into it, closing your eyes in a moment of rare relaxation. Both good and bad memories are associated with this smell, but this is a new experience altogether. You can get up and walk back inside if you want to. You’re not chained to the floor, scraps of exploded metal at your feet, cigarette smoke turning the room to haze and confusing your parts together. If you left, Bucky wouldn’t care at all.

“You were right. Rotors were shot.” Metal tings against the stained concrete as he tosses one out by your feet. You pick it up, grease covering your fingertips. It’s bent to hell.

“Lord. How much have you hit the brakes?” You quip. The car muffles his chuckle.

“It’s one of Sam’s cars. I’m pretty sure he abuses them all.”

“I guess if you could fly, being trapped in a tin can on the ground makes you frustrated.”

“Then he needs to fix his cars as much as he fixes that damn red spy-pigeon he has strapped to his back.” He throws out the other rotor, wheeling out after it. His short-cropped hair glitters in the sun, sweat beading at his brow. You flick your eyes back to the garage.

“I think he likes the more finicky things. Cars are big, cumbersome.” You say, shrugging a shoulder. Bucky sits up, going to run a hand through his hair but pausing, looking at his greasy hand. You toss him a rag sitting on the tool bench, him murmuring his thanks. He’s methodical as rubs his hands, going over every inch as if scrubbing in for surgery.

“And you?” He says, breaking your trance.

“And I what?”

“What do you like to fix? Or do you not like getting your hands dirty?” He’s looking up at you.

“I get my hands dirty all the time.” You scoff.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Good to know.” He says, smirking.

You bite the inside of your lip, quickly looking away from him.

“I’ve mainly fixed power generators. Some engines, but they were cobbled together from other engines. Like a Frankenstein of car parts.” You rush.

“Hmm. So you know a lot about a lot, then?”

The compliment heats up your cheeks, and you turn towards the sun, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“I guess you could say that. It does make it difficult when I see a fully assembled engine. It looks too perfect. I don’t know where to begin.”

“Well, usually with the broken part.” You look back at him and roll your eyes. He gives another wolfish grin, making your stomach do a flip. The sun shows off more of him, bathing him in a glow you can’t find in the house. Maybe you should open the blinds more, let more of the sun dance around the dark corners. How much more of him would you see?

“I was gonna do some basic maintenance too. You wanna see this engine? I can give you a tour.”

“Is that your idea of a pick-up line?” You ask, faux innocently. Might as well play with him too. He stills before smirking again.

“Only if you say yes.” He says solemnly.

“Such a gentleman. Just show me the engine, Bucky.” You snort.

He stares up at you for a moment before getting up in one fluid motion, picking the car up off the jack with his metal hand. You quickly kick the jack away and he lets the sedan down gently. Every time he shows his strength, you marvel at it. There’s knowing he’s a super soldier, experimented on, serum flowing through his veins, and then there’s seeing it. You’re split on whether it makes you feel protected, unsafe, or less alone. You settle on an unsettling mixture of all three as he moves around to the front of the car, opening the lid of the engine and beckoning you over. You follow suit quickly.

His shirt brushes against your arm as he leans over to point at something, and your neurons crackle in response. You tell yourself he doesn’t notice the way you lean into him.

“You know what that is?” He asks, and you can feel his eyes on the side of your face as you study it.

“Oil dipstick.”

“Good, you’re right.” His praise makes your stomach flutter again. The air between you starts feeling electric, and you take a small side-step away. He doesn’t seem to notice as he motions to something close by again.

“And that?”

“Uhm...” You stare at it, but all you can think about are the little zaps you feel between your fingers. “Brake fluid reservoir?”

“Close. Clutch fluid reservoir. Over there is the brake fluid.” He waves a hand at some other part, then leans back and crosses his arms. You let out a little breath that you didn’t think you were holding. “If you really want to impress me, show me where the blinker fluid is.”

You examine for a minute, before rolling your eyes again and looking up at him. He looks bemused but holding it in, biting the inside of his lip and smirking down at you.

“Did you really think you’d get me with that?” You scoff, and he laughs. It matches the warmth that comes up to your cheeks. You haven’t blushed this much in your life, but now all it takes is a few nice words and some laughter from him and you’re a mess.

“No, not really. But I thought I might as well try.” He says.

“Blinker fluid isn’t real, muffler bearings aren’t real, and elbow grease comes from hard work.” You say. He nods slowly.

“Alright, alright. I won’t haze you anymore. Check the oil for me, and I’ll check the tire pressures.” He says, tossing you the rag and walking around to the back of the car.

You take your time, taking out the dipstick and running it across a clean part of the towel, watching him from the corner of your eyes. He’s looking at you too, and when you match gazes, electricity crackles up your spine.

This is all getting to be too much. The smell of grease and sweat, heat against your back, tools all around you. Mixing that with the closeness of him, the easy laughter he’s sharing with you, the way he talks with you as if you’re his equal. His friend, even. The war in your head is growing louder and louder, and you count wordlessly. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 1. 2. 3.

“Tires are fine. Oil?” He’s suddenly next to you again, and you almost drop the stick.

“Could use some, I think.” Your mouth is dry.

“Alright. You know how?”

“Yes.”

“You want to?”

“Yes.” You say it too quickly, rushing around him to the side of the sedan. He comes over and lifts the car again, and you kick the jack underneath.

“You know, I could just hold it up.” He says as he puts it gently down onto the stand, and you shake your head.

“I’d rather not be crushed if you need to sneeze.” You say, and he laughs again.

“You really think I’d let you be crushed?” He says gently. Your brain shorts for a second.

“Not on purpose.”

“Never on purpose. I’m not that mean.” He kicks an old tray to you as you lower yourself on the skateboard, and you bring it with you as you wheel under.

You both sit in silence as you concentrate, unscrewing the drain plug quickly, but not quick enough to get your hand out of the way of the oil. You watch it for a moment, trying to calm down, but not managing to before it finishes draining. Your heart still beats fast, especially when Bucky bends down and smiles at you.

“All done?” He asks, and you nod, pulling yourself out from underneath after re-screwing the oil pan shut. You wipe some sweat off your cheek with the back of your wrist, taking a deep breath. He’s already gotten to the engine to pour new oil in. You stand up to go near him, watching from one side of the engine bay. He looks up at you, smiling at first, but then his brow furrows slightly. He beckons with his free hand.

“C’mere.” Your skin crackles. You hesitate, but he beckons again. Some tiny part of you steps forward as if Bucky is tugging on a fishing line. You have the sinking feeling this will end up bad, but the bait is too tantalizing. The risk that makes your heart flutter and the logical part of your brain scream.

Then, it happens.

With his metal hand, he reaches up to your cheek, thumb wiping a spot under your eye. His fingers curl slightly around your jaw, pawing your face. The combination of the soft touch with his gaze, and the smell of pervasive grease and nicotine from the inside of the car mixing with memories that feel too close to the surface, the numbers are useless.

The warmth of his eyes. The care. The way you want to nudge your face into his palm. Trust it not to grip hard. Trust yourself not to bite back.

You can’t. It’s not safe. You aren’t safe. You can’t be, you can’t-

Boom.

White clouds your vision as Bucky’s hand gets ripped away from you. Heat crawls over every inch of your skin as the ripple of the shockwave tears from you like horses out of a starting gate. Metal tears and screeches against concrete. Things shatter and crack, filling up your nose with the fume of smoke and oil. And the memories. Oh, the nightmares come crashing through. Thick, heavy sobs hit your chest as you’re back in that little room again, chained to the ground in an effort to keep you still amidst yet another chaotically forced explosion. Left to lay there as the data points come rolling in that damned computer, waiting another round. Here, now, you can feel the cuffs on your wrists, weighing you down as your lungs struggle to breathe. Somewhere far away, there’s a thud and a groan, snapping you back to reality. The heat around you diminishes, the wind from your shockwave dying down to nothing, letting the buzz of the cicadas in the summer air come back to the forefront.

Worst of all, Bucky is getting up at the other end of the garage, looking directly at you with a look you can’t decipher. The concrete wall behind him is cracked from his body being thrown against it but he still stands easily. He steps towards you but you back away and he does too, staying near the wall. His jaw clenches as his brow knits together, looking you over.

It almost looks like worry, but that’s not possible. That would be hope. You already know what hope is, the words branded on your heart.

Hope is the worst hurt of all.

He’s holding his hands out towards you, palms out again, and your nails dig into your hair. You both stay in that moment, examining each other.

He blinks slowly, opening his mouth to say something but closing it again. The possibilities rush through your head at once. Too many of them hurt your heart before you hear them.

You both stare at each other wordlessly, neither of you moving a muscle.

Before he can break the silence, you turn on your heels and run back up the road into the house, throwing the door open and running upstairs to the small bathroom. You slam and lock the door, shutting off the light and getting into the tub, bringing your knees to your chest.

1231923124.

1326183.

172631.

The air tingles as you dig your nails into your skin, trying to tamp down the residual energy building up again through useless counting. A sharp knock on the door makes you jump.

“Hey, please tell me you’re alright. Don’t worry about the garage, it’s barely messier than it was before.” Bucky’s words come out rushed, like he can’t say them fast enough. You don’t reply, and he talks again. “If you’re hurt, I can help you.”

You almost laugh, a bitter taste on the back of your throat. You wish he could help you. But you’ve proven you’re not trustworthy. He touches your cheeks once and you lose control? What happens the next time he’s close to you? A blast in this old house would cause it all to come crashing down around him.

“Go away, Bucky. Please.” You choke out, but the shadow in front of the door doesn’t move an inch.

“Do you need help calming down?” He says. Still painfully gentle. You can almost imagine him on the other side of the door, running a hand through his hair like he did the other night, when your nightmare shook him awake.

You pause. A voice in your head continues to spout off numbers, a never-ending river of confusion. Another one lectures you, shows a slideshow of him in the garage, standing away from you like you’re an animal waiting to attack him. A third one screams at you, kicking you into a corner even in your own psyche. The shockwaves always seem to make your brain explode too, splintering it into a chaotic mess.

In that chaos, your racing thoughts throw out a question that comes from the one voice you don’t let speak.

Why is he here, if he’s scared of you?

“Just...just follow my voice, alright?” He murmurs through the door. In spite of yourself, you find yourself yearning for his voice above the others. You take a shaky breath.

“Say five things you hear. Out loud, please. So I know you’re alive in there.”

You take a moment.

“The faucet dripping, the wind against the house, the creak of the foundation settling, a hawk outside, and y-you.” All of them come out in a rush of words, and you add a sixth to the list; him letting out a deep breath.

“Alright. Good, you’re doing good. Name three things you can touch.”

“The tub, the shower curtain, the soap.” Your fingers trace each item as you say them. They’re all cold to the touch, and you dig your nails into the curtain, making it crinkle in your hands.

“And one thing you can see.”

Some half-formed instinct pushes you forward to the door, numbly unlocking it. Pulling it open slightly, you’re met with Bucky’s gaze towering above you as he leans against the door frame. You flinch away but he doesn’t meet you with anger, or pain. Only a quiet, pensive look that you haven’t seen before on a person you’ve hurt.

“You. I see you.” You breathe out. His jaw clenches and relaxes and he runs his metal hand through his hair again. He’s jittery but won’t look away. You can’t either.

“Are you alright?” He whispers. You nod. “Are you sure?”

You nod as you wipe a tear off the same cheek he held before. Will never hold again, if he knows what’s good for him.

“I’ll clean up the garage.” You say.

“Don’t worry about the garage.”

“It’s all fucked up. I think the car-”

“Don’t worry about the garage or the car. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, that’s the only car we have, and if I broke it then we can’t go into town, or get out of town, or-”

“What happened?” He interrupts.

Any explanation you can think of turns to a stone in your throat.

“What did I do? Did I hurt you?” He whispers and look up at him. His eyes are frenzied, almost panicked as he looks over you, but he keeps himself on his side of the doorway. His metal hand is clenched into a fist at his side, but at your glance he relaxes it, rubbing his thigh with his palm.

“No Bucky, you didn’t hurt me.” You murmur. You almost reach for him before remembering you’re the one who threw him into the wall at the first sign of a kind touch.

He studies you as you study him. Your defences are back up but the familiar adrenaline rush dies down quickly.

“Bucky, I’m...sorry. I can’t...” You trail off, closing your eyes and rubbing a temple. The storm of your thoughts has died down but the rain lingers, drowning out everything you try to say.

“It’s alright.” He says softly.

“I-”

“I’ll be downstairs.” He turns quickly, footsteps thudding quickly down. You stare at the empty doorway. The faucet drips beside you, beating out the seconds in the silent hallway.

When you finally rip yourself away from listening to the subtle sounds of him below, you go to your bed and fall on it.

When sleep comes, it’s not a comfort. Just an escape from yourself.

----------

A/N: This was a cathartic chapter for me to write, but I'm thinking that'll be a trend for the rest of the fic, lol. But it took me a while to get it out, so I apologize. When I started writing this, I didn't realize how hard-hitting it would be for me get everything out. Next chapter is already outlined, so will be quicker updates from now on :)

If you're struggling with C/PTSD symptoms, you are not alone. People care about you.

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[radio-fmm]

Turmoil

Law x gn reader

Warnings: little fight between Law and reader but nothing crazy, sfw and fluff at the end, good ending, FEELINGS

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: In which you save Law’s life and he gets mad at you

Masterlist

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

The moonlight danced with the dark sea water, accompanying you in your office as your eyes struggled to stay focus on the paper work in front of you, it was hard to tell the time when you lived in a submarine, but your body knows its well past 2 am, begging for you to snuggle into bed and drift away

From the shadows behind your door emerged your Captain, looking as tired as you did, a brow arching in confusion

“What are you doing?” His low raspy tone makes you jump on your seat as your eyes open wide in his direction, before they roll in annoyance and your eyebrows furrow

“Doing the work that YOU assigned me, Captain” the tone of your answer lets Law know that you’re still mad at him

“Should’ve thought better before-“ suddenly, and surprisingly you interrupt his so re-used speech he had given you a million times over since that evening

“Oh give me a break!” You trow your pen on the table, slamming your hands before gifting him the nastiest look he had ever witness painted on your face

Some days ago, the Heart Pirates found themselves in yet another fight were things weren’t going well for their Captain. You were the crews strategists and whenever you were caught in situations like these you were always by Laws side, but this time he had made you promise to stay out of trouble for this one, which in all honesty had struck your pride. Everyone knew how relentless of a fighter you were, that’s why you had gained such a position in the crew, so being told to back up was like a punch in the stomach, specially coming from your trusted Captain

Trafalgar Law was a stubborn, stubborn man, and that sometimes got him in more trouble that he could handle, as the enemies arrow flew trough his direction and a sword was drawn to his heart, in a blink of an eye you jumped in to protect him, without a second thought

Nothing bad had happened to you, you had came out victorious with a couple of scars nothing out of the ordinary, so when you were met with Laws angry eyes, a long speech on why what you had done was absolutely stupid and a punishment, you were left puzzled, and humiliated in front of all of your crew mates

Since then, you had been locked in your office, getting the extra work the doctor had assigned you so that ‘you learn how to listen’ done, and avoiding any words and looks of his

“I saved you” you got up of your chair as you walked towards the frame of your Captain, he may tower over you, but that would not stop you

“You put your life on the line y/n-ya, that I don’t tolerate” he answers you with a stern voice, eyes examining your every expression

“I did what I did because I wanted to, you may be the one giving orders around here, but you do not get dictate when or how I die”

As you get closer, Trafalgar cannot help but start to feel that maybe he was being selfish, after all, you had given him the greatest of gifts

Knowing there’s someone out there that is willing to die for you, no questions asked

But at the same time, the mere thought of losing you because he couldn’t be up to the task of protecting you boiled his blood and made his stomach turn a million times over

“Then maybe, you shouldn’t have joined my crew in the first place” he blurts out, every single word hitting you like a venomous snake bite, your heart clenching at the thought of being unwanted

Your greatest fear

Suddenly your body language does a 180, your anger being replaced with what could only be perfectly described as heartache. Almost immediately the doctor regrets even stepping foot in your office, before he can say anything you’re already back on your seat

“Sorry Captain” the pain in both your voice and your face makes Law hurt, and panic, and regret, yet words fail to come out of his mouth… just when he needed them most

“Don’t stay up too late” is all he can say before closing the door behind him

Next days in the Polar Tang were a pain, Law had been quite more irritable around everyone, even snapping on poor Bepo. You were either locked away working or in your room and sometimes even skipping dinner just to not cross paths with the damn surgeon, and if you were unlucky enough to do so, you would turn away immediately

Everyone knew something was up between the two of you, Ikkaku and Penguin had showed up at your office asking if everything was ok. You decided to keep it to yourself, you knew if Law found out you’re talking about him behind his back, about personal matters? Yeah, you would be dead to him, and even when mad, you respected him

Shachi was send to dig around Law, but when your name crossed his lips the doctor immediately shot down the conversation, this confirming their suspicions

But then, you finished the damn paper work, and guess who was the one you needed to hand it to?

You tried to convince anyone else to deliver the papers to Laws office, but it seemed like everyone had catch up and found this as an opportunity for you to make up with him, frustrating you beyond comprehension. They had even got to Bepo first

“Sorry y/n, I was told to tell you to deliver it yourself” he offered you a sympathetic smile, afraid of your answer, you just sighed defeated and thanked him anyways

“Just go in and hand him the papers! That easy” Ikkakus voice rings in your head as you try to wash your nervousness away in front of Laws office. Hesitantly you knock on the door, feeling lightheaded at the mere touch of it

“Go away Shachi” the doctors muffled voice meets your ears, confused you answer with the tiniest “It’s me, Captain” After a pause that felt like it lasted a decade, thinking he may had shambles himself out of the office, you hear a “Come in” so you do

You enter the office slowly, almost as if you made any sudden moves you’ll get caught like a pray in the wild. Trafalgar is sitting at his desk, his hands fidgeting and eyes following your form

“I have the paper work you asked for” you stay pretty far away from the desk, fear written all over you making Law feel twice as worse as he had been feeling this past few days

“Thank you y/n-ya, just leave them here” his voice sounded softer, but this didn’t made you feel any less scared as you approached the desk, gaze fixated on the papers in your hand. As you positioned your hard wok on the desk Law makes the uncharacteristic decision to hold your wrist before you retrieved, a shock running through your whole body at the action

Law’s heart beats a million times per second as he finds the right words to approach the matter, maybe he should’ve thought about them before taking your hand, your soft skin touching his freezing him. You lock eyes for a second and finally Law understands everything he had done wrong, from being ungrateful, rude, harsh and just overall mistreating the person he cares for the most

He would rather being shot than admit he was in the wrong, but he knew if he didn’t he’ll lose you, which was the reason he had caused this mess in the first place, so he swallows his pride

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have screamed at you in front of everyone, or made you do all this work and… saying those awful things”

The fear washes from your body as you hear his apology, something you never thought you’d witness in your life, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding since you stepped foot on the door, offering Law a genuine smile that made his heart fall to his feet

“It’s ok Captain”

“Law” he says, letting your hand go as his own insecurities disappear, thinking you were gonna bash at him after his apology

“Law” you parrot back, earning him another sweet smile of yours

“I just… didn’t wanted to lose you, I was so lost in that thought that I didn’t realize that’s exactly what I was doing” you had seemed to have pushed a button because he just couldn’t stop the thoughts that just fell directly to his tongue and overflow like a cascade out of his mouth

Laws eyes open wide as he sees you approach the other side of the desk, your arms wrap around his wide shoulders like the softest blanket, hugging him while he still sits on the chair, your head resting in top of his hat. The surgeon stays completely still, taken aback

“Thank you for apologizing Law, I really appreciate it” you whisper making his face bright red and his hands shake, the way your body weights over his makes his brain malfunction and his heart go wild

You let go and approach the door of the office, Law remaining completely broken and flushed in his seat

“See ya’ at dinner.. Law” you say his name mischievously, giggling after before you disappear

The Captain stays still for a while, alone in his office, thinking about everything being open about his thoughts and feelings had gained him, and how addicting his name sounded falling from your sweet lips

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

This came to me in a dream and wrote it in almost one sitting lmao, feel free to request anything you wanna read I am having so much fun writing his emo ass

Reblogs are appreciated ;)

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!!! Would it be possible to write for hatori sohma from fruit basket childhood friend to lover with a some angst and fruff at the end of

Thank you😊

aww okay we NEED to do this 🥹

Hatori Sohma realizing you're more than a friend to him

Pairing: Hitori x reader

Word Count: 3,5k

Synopsis: You were around since he can remember. You, the only sunshine in his life, that woman he never gets tired of looking at. It takes Hitori too long to finally confess his feelings to himself. And then he's about to ruin everything...

Warnings: hurt to comfort, friends to lovers, this is sooo fluffy hehe

Hatori Sohma is not a man who easily surrenders to the urges of emotion. The weight of his family’s curse, the pain of his own heartache, and the gravity of his responsibilities have forged him into a man who exists with quiet detachment in the shadows since that one fateful day. And yet, as you sit across from him at Shigure’s dinner table, laughing softly at one of Shigure’s ridiculous remarks, Hatori finds himself lost in thoughts he was never prepared to face.

You’ve been his friend for years - a steady presence in his life, like the moon hanging quietly in the night sky whenever he needs it. While others come and go, bringing chaos and change, you’ve always been there, offering your unwavering kindness and support. A warmth he has leaned on more times than he’d care to admit.

Still, he didn’t even dare to think about you as someone other than a friend. He’s always been careful to sort his feelings when it came to you, forcefully avoiding that little skip of his heart whenever he saw you.

Especially after Kana. Loving her, only to have the curse of the Sohma family destroy what both could have been, left scars he’s not sure will ever fully heal. He buried those wounds deep, vowing not to allow himself the vulnerability of love again. Not when it always means agony. Not when he’ll never live a normal life like all those other men walking around the world.

But lately, his heart has been betraying him, and today, watching Shigure lean a little too close to you while you laugh, it stings in a way he doesn’t know how to rationalize.

Earlier in the day, it was Ayame who started to chip away at the walls Hatori keeps so carefully constructed.

“I must say, Haa-san,” Ayame had declared, lounging dramatically on one of Shigure’s couches, “it’s almost tragic how blind you are to your own emotions.”

Hatori sighed, pushing up his glasses. He had little patience for Ayame’s theatrics at the best of times, and today was no exception. Why again this talk?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, denial,” Ayame said with a flourish, “the first stage of awakening!”

Shigure, who had been scribbling something in a notebook, looked up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What Ayame means, Haa-san, is that you’re rather obvious when it comes to a certain someone.”

Hatori froze in place. Shigure and Ayame exchanged a knowing glance that made his stomach twist. Were they talking about…you?  

“If you’re going to make a point, do it quickly,” he remarked, his tone colder than he intended.

Ayame smirked, unbothered by the sudden change of tone. Even though he’s so convinced no one knows, everyone saw the way Hatori looked at you earlier with that slight smile forming on his lips. Every one knows about that picture of you he keeps well hidden in his purse.

“The point, dear Haa-san, is that your little friend has managed to do something extraordinary.”

“And what’s that?” Hatori inquired, already regretting engaging in the conversation.

“She’s gotten under your skin. (y/n), I mean”, Shigure interjected smoothly.

“In a good way, of course. You’re different around her - softer, more… alive.”

Hatori frowned, hating the way his heart skips a beat how it always does when someone talks about you.

“That’s absurd.”

“Is it?”

Shigure leaned back in his chair, a sly grin tugging at his lips that usually means nothing but trouble.

“You’re a careful man. But I think even you can’t deny that she means something more to you. The question is, are you going to do anything about it?”

Before Hatori could respond, Ayame clapped his hands together.

“Oh, this is so romantic! The brooding doctor and his steadfast friend, bound by years of quiet affection, only to realize the depth of their feelings amidst life’s trials! It’s like something out of a novel!”

Hatori pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re both insufferable.”

Now, hours later, Hatori finds himself replaying their words. As much as he wants to dismiss their observations, there’s a nagging truth to them that he can’t ignore. He does feel different around you. You have a way of making the world seem a little less heavy, of making him feel seen in a way no one else does. Even though you know about his curse, despite the fact that you’ve seen him and other Sohma’s turn into animals countless times by now, you never changed your soft attitude towards him.

Just the thought of losing you, even to something as harmless as Shigure’s playful flirting, fills him with an ache he doesn’t fully understand.

“Earth to Hatori,” Shigure teases, waving a hand in front of his face.

“You’ve been staring at your plate for the past five minutes. Is something on your mind?”, you add with your brows furrowed in that way that glues his eyes onto yours in an instant.

Hatori shakes his head, brushing off the question. But when he glances up, he sees you watching him with a quiet concern that makes his chest tighten.

“Are you feeling okay?” you ask softly, your voice laced with genuine care.

“I’m fine,” he replies, his tone measured. But the truth is, he feels anything but fine.

The evening continues, with Shigure and Ayame carrying most of the conversation. You join in here and there, your laughter like a melody that Hatori finds himself clinging to. He stays mostly silent, his thoughts too tangled to untangle.

It’s only after dinner, when Shigure retreats to his study and Ayame bids an overly dramatic farewell, that you and Hatori are left alone in the living room. The atmosphere shifts, quieter, more intimate. You’re seated on the couch, your legs tucked beneath you, while he stands near the window, his gaze fixed on the garden outside.

“Hatori,” you say gently, breaking the silence. “What’s on your mind? You’ve been quiet tonight.”

He hesitates, the weight of your question pressing against him. How can he possibly put his feelings into words when he’s still struggling to make sense of them himself?

“It’s nothing,” he says finally, though the words feel hollow.

You frown, clearly unconvinced. “You know you don’t have to keep everything to yourself, right? I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

Your words are a lifeline, and for a moment, he considers taking it. But vulnerability doesn’t come easily to him. Instead, he deflects. “Shigure was particularly annoying tonight.”

You laugh softly. “He’s always annoying. That’s part of his charm.”

Hatori’s lips twitch in the faintest hint of a smile, but it doesn’t last. The conversation lulls, and the silence that follows is heavy with unspoken words.

After a moment, you rise from the couch and cross the room to stand beside him. The proximity is both comforting and disarming. You don’t press him further, but your presence alone feels like an invitation—to let down his guard, to let you in.

“Do you ever think about the past?” he asks suddenly, surprising even himself with the question.

“Sometimes,” you reply, your tone thoughtful. “But I try not to dwell on it too much. It’s easy to get stuck in what-ifs.”

He nods, his gaze still fixed on the garden. “I envy that about you. Your ability to move forward.”

“You can, too, you know,” you say softly. “It’s not easy, but it’s possible.”

Your words settle over him like a balm, your voice so comforting that he forgets that numb feeling in his stomach for a second. He turns to look at you, really look at you. The way your eyes meet his, full of understanding and something else, something he’s afraid to name, something he’d never speculates about, makes his heart stumble.

“I’m not sure I know,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smile, and it’s the kind of smile that feels like sunlight breaking through a storm.

What if you get hurt though?

Hatori can’t help but shake his head, breaking his gaze away from you. No, he can’t allow that to happen. He can’t come this close to you. What if he hurts you? Or what if you don’t feel the same way about him? Why would someone like you fall for him in the first place? You, known and loved by countless people, secretly admired by someone like Shigure as well. There’s no way you’d actually fall for him, right?

“You don’t have to figure it out alone.”

Gently, you place your hand on top of his. But instead of welcoming the warmth of your palm, he jerks up in his seat and leaves without saying another word.

The days following the incident were unbearable - for you and for Hatori, though he would never admit it out loud. He avoided you with a determination that bordered on cruelty. Every time you tried to reach out, he found an excuse to slip away. He didn’t answer your calls, didn’t allow you to visit him, didn’t even text you back when you begged for a single sign of life. Not even Shigure and Ayame were able to drag him out of this hole. Hatori hated himself for hurting you, for pulling away when all he wanted was to be close to you. But the fear of losing you, of ruining your life just like Kana’s, was just too much to bear.

It’s for the best, he told himself so often that he lost count on that little walk alone. Staying in his apartment meant getting reminded of all the times you visited him and sat on that one chair while sipping tea out of your own personal mug no one else is allowed to use. He needed to get out there, needed some fresh air to calm his mind.

Not even this warm summer day is able to comfort him, though. Not when every beautiful flower on his way reminds him of you, not when he imagines you in all those dresses displayed in the shopping windows.

Not when you’re standing just a few feet away from him with Shigure by your side.

Shigure and…you?

There you are, walking beside Shigure, holding an ice cream cone and laughing at something he said. The sound of your laughter, so free and light, hits him like a punch to the gut. Shigure, ever the charmer, leans in closer than necessary, his expression playful as he licks his own ice cream.

Hatori’s heart twists painfully, hands balling into tight fists on their own. He doesn’t have the right to feel jealous, no right to claim you when he’s done nothing but pushing you away.

But watching Shigure, so at ease with you, stirs something primal in him, feelings he tried to drown multiple times already. The thought of losing you - to anyone, but especially to Shigure – becomes unbearable.

Like in trance, he steps back, away from the scene that might make him lose his mind. No, he can’t feel like this about you, he can’t allow himself to be jealous when you’re not even his. All he did those past weeks was pushing you away. You’re not his, you’ll never be.

Hatori slams his door shut harder than necessary before gliding down the cool wood.

What is he supposed to do now?

-later-

You’re sitting in your small apartment, trying to distract yourself from the ache in your chest. The ice cream with Shigure had been nice, a kind effort of him to break you away from your train of thought,  but it doesn’t erase the sadness you feel over Hatori’s sudden distance. What went wrong? Was it something you said, something you did? Was it because you tried to cheer him up by holding his hand that one evening? You didn’t really think about it twice, just tried to cheer him up when it was clear that he’s upset…

You can’t understand what went wrong. And it hurts more than you want to admit.

A knock at your door breaks through your thoughts. Did Shigure forget something or is he here to look after you. Maybe Tohru wanted to pay you a visit-

“Hatori?” you breathe out, your voice laced with surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything while you try to process the stinging fact that he’s really here. He simply looks at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the courage he needs.

Then, in a voice thick with emotion, he mutters, “Can I come in?”

Your mind goes blank, lips not able to move. He’s really here. He didn’t forget about you. He wants to…talk?

Like in trance, you step aside, letting him enter. The air between you is heavy with tension as he stands in your living room, his tall frame seeming out of place in the cozy little space you can afford. You wait, unsure of what to say, as he struggles to find the words himself.

Finally, he turns to you, his gaze intense.

“I owe you an apology.”

“For what?” you mumble softly, though you already know the answer.

“For avoiding you. For pushing you away. For being…a coward.”

His voice is steady, but you can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way his hands clench at his sides.

“I thought I was protecting you. From me. From my life. But I see now that I was only protecting myself.”

Your heart aches at his words. Is this really how he feels about everything? Does he really think he’s a threat, a burden for you?  

“Hatori, you don’t have to-”

“I do,” he interrupts, his tone firm.

“Because I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t…”

He trails off, taking a deep breath.

“That I don’t feel something for you. Something I’ve been too afraid to admit for a long time.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Is he trying to say that…

“Hatori…”

“I’m in love with you. I have been for longer than I care to admit. But I was so afraid. Afraid of hurting you. Afraid of losing you. Afraid that you couldn’t feel the same way”, he suddenly blurts out.

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. This can’t be real, right? Did he really ignore you because he thought he’d hurt or lose you. Did he really just say that he loves you? Him, the man you’ve kept your eye on for years by now?

“You thought I didn’t feel the same?”

He hesitates, the doubt still etched into his features.

“Why would you? You could have anyone. Someone without all the…baggage I carry.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you step closer to him. Just the thought of him feeling this way, of him suppressing his feeling because of something like that…

“Hatori, you’re the one I want. You’ve always been the one”, you reply with trembling voice.

For a moment, he simply looks at you, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Then, slowly, he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours before taking it in his own.

“You…really mean it?”

“Of course I do!”, you breathe out while clinging onto his hand for what feels like dear life.

“But I didn’t want to rush you, especially after those past weeks. I felt like you don’t see me that way. And after what happened to Kana, I wasn’t sure if you’d give me a chance…”

“I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you. I don’t want to run anymore. I want to be with you, if you’ll have me.”

You smile through your tears, wrapping your arms around his arm the way you always imagined. Even though you’re not able to hug him the way he’d deserve it, you pour your heart and soul in this little moment. That moment you’ve been imagining in your head over and over again. That moment that fell apart in your mind those past weeks.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

Hatori buries his face in your hair as the weight of his fears finally lifts. For the first time in a long time, he feels like he can breathe. And as you stand there together, he promises to himself that he will do whatever it takes to make you happy, to protect the love you’ve both found.

Because with you, he knows he can finally heal. Now he finally knows you're more than a friend.

Dividers by @saradikagrafics 🤍

[imloyaltoscoups]

i'm ready | yoon jeonghan

After seven long years, you finally find yourself in a place of true peace and contentment. The journey to this point hasn't been easy - the scars of heartbreak and betrayal ran deep, and it took time to heal and rebuild yourself.

But you did it. You persevered through the nightmares, finding strength in your own resilience and determination. With each passing day, you focused on your own growth and development, pouring your energy into your studies and your personal pursuits.

Completing your PhD was a milestone, a testament to your dedication and perseverance. It wasn't just an academic achievement: it was a symbol of your triumph over adversity, a tangible reminder of how far you've come since the pain of your past.

Along the way, you learned valuable lessons about self-love and self-care. You realized the importance of prioritizing your own needs and desires, of carving out space for yourself in a world that often demands so much of us.

The first years were undoubtedly the hardest. You struggled to find your footing, grappling with the weight of your emotions and the uncertainty of starting over. You were cautious with those who approached, wary of opening yourself up to the possibility of hurt once again.

But with time, you learned to trust yourself again. You rediscovered your worth and your strength, and you refused to let the pain of your past define you. You learned to allocate love and care for yourself, recognizing that you are deserving of the same kindness and compassion that you so freely gave to others.

You pause mid-packing, taken aback by your friend's unexpected enthusiasm. They shake the ticket with excitement, their smile infectious despite your initial reluctance.

"Y/N!!! We're going to Koreaaaa!" they exclaim, their voice filled with enthusiasm.

You hesitate, the memories of your past trip to Korea still lingering in the corners of your mind. The thought of returning to the place where so much heartache had occurred fills you with a sense of apprehension.

But before you can voice your concerns, your friend speaks up again, their tone resolute. "You're okay now, right? So it's okay to visit that country again. And besides, who knows when we'll have the chance to see our friends first ever exhibit. If you're worried of bumping with that piece of shit. Don't worry—I'll give him a piece of my mind. Maybe even a punch and a chokeslam for good measure!... I should have been with you when you went there" she pouted.

Their words catch you off guard, but you can't help but laugh at their fierce loyalty. Despite your reservations, their unwavering support gives you a glimmer of courage.

"Alright," you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "This is for our girl."

With a newfound sense of determination, you resume packing, knowing that this trip will be different from the last. Armed with the support of your friend and the strength you've gained from overcoming your past, you're ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. And who knows? Maybe this time, Korea will hold new memories of joy and adventure, rather than pain and heartache.

As you arrive at the exhibit of your best friend, you're filled with a sense of pride and excitement. You rush forward and envelop her in a big hug, a smile spreading across your face.

"Congratulations queen, you did it!" you exclaim, squeezing her tightly. "I'm so proud of you for pursuing your dream of being an artist. Look at the crowd!"

She returns the hug with equal enthusiasm, her eyes shining with happiness. "Thank you so much! I couldn't have done it without you guys. You two kept on pushing me to do this and here we are."

She then shows you around the exhibit, pointing out each piece with pride, you can't help but marvel at her talent and creativity. Each painting tells a story, a reflection of her passion and dedication to her craft.

As you admire her work, she offers you two a glass of champagne, a gesture of celebration for this momentous occasion.

"Cheers to you and your incredible talent," you say, raising your glass in a toast. "May your art continue to inspire and captivate audiences around the world."

She clinks her glass against yours, a wide smile lighting up her face. "Thank you, and cheers to our friendship. I'm so grateful to have you two by my side."

Together, you three sip your champagne and continue to explore the exhibit, basking in the joy of this special moment shared between friends. And as you revel in the beauty of her art and the warmth of her friendship, you know that this is a memory you'll cherish for years to come.

Time pass by and your best friend excuses herself to greet other visitors, you nod understandingly, letting her immerse herself in the moment. Beside you, your other friend suddenly excuses herself to rushed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone amidst the bustling gallery.

As you scroll through the gallery, admiring the artwork, a familiar voice calls out your name. You turn around and are surprised to see Jeonghan standing there, holding a glass of champagne. To your own surprise, you feel no shock or hurt at his presence. Instead, you feel a sense of calm and resolution.

"Hi," he says, his voice tentative as he approaches you. "How are you?"

You offer him a small smile. "I'm doing better than ever," you reply confidently. "I got my PhD and now I'm planning on doing my residency."

Jeonghan's eyes light up with genuine pride. "That's amazing," he says, offering his congratulations. "I always knew you would achieve great things."

You exchange conversation for a while, catching up on each other's lives. Eventually, Jeonghan takes a deep breath and admits once again that he is truly sorry for the pain he caused in the past.

You nod, feeling a sense of closure wash over you. "I've forgiven you," you say simply.

His eyes widen with hope, and for a moment, you see the flicker of longing in his gaze. But before he can say anything else, a commotion interrupts the moment.

A little kid comes running towards you, calling you "mama." You glance down and see your baby boy, and you can't help but smile as you scoop him up into your arms.

"Where's Papa?" you ask, and just then, a voice responds—a man carrying your one-year-old daughter.

Jeonghan stands frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he takes in the sight of your family. You introduce your husband to him, and as you do, your baby boy innocently asks who the man you're talking to is.

"He's one of the singers mommy used to love," you reply gently, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

Jeonghan introduces himself to your family, his emotions held back as he struggles to maintain his composure. But as the moment stretches on, you can see the glass in his hand trembling, a silent testament to the storm of emotions raging within him.

"Mama, can we look for Tatie?" your baby boy asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

You smile down at him and give a nod. "Of course, sweetheart. Let's go find her," you reply, your heart swelling with love for your children.

Turning to Jeonghan, you offer a polite smile. "It was nice meeting you again," you say sincerely.

Your baby boy tugs at your hand, eager to leave. "Goodbye, Uncle!" he chirps before running off with your husband and daughter.

Jeonghan watches them go, his face a mixture of shock and sadness. You offer him a sympathetic smile before turning away to search for your best friend.

As you walk with your husband by your side, his arm wrapped around you protectively, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. You lean into him, grateful for his unwavering support and patience.

"Thank you for being so patient love," you murmur, pressing a quick peck to his cheek.

He smiles down at you, his eyes filled with warmth. "You're very brave, you know that," he says simply, his voice filled with admiration.

You feel a surge of gratitude for the life you've built together, for the love and happiness that surrounds you. And as you continue to search for your best friends, you realize that maybe visiting Korea isn't so bad after all, especially when you have your family by your side.

In that moment, you realize that the greatest revenge you can provide to Jeonghan is finding your own happiness without him. And as you find your own people who cherish and support you, you know that you've already won.

part 1, part 2

....... ≿━━━━━༺MASTERLIST༻━━━━━≾ .......

[echantedtoon]

Yandere Kagaya Ubuyashiki Headcannons

I've been wondering what if he was a yandere. I don't support actual yandere behavior etc. I suck at editing images so excuse the sucky quality. I'll be including both Kimetsu no yaiba and Kimetsu Gauken versions of him as Kimetsu Academy Kagaya is a bit different from his Demon Slayer counterpart.

warnings for Yandere themes, death mentioned, etc.

-Let's say he doesn't meet Amane in this timeline. How does he meet you? What catches his attention to you above anyone else? His foresight of course. The Ubuyashiki family was widely known for their predictions and abilities to predict the future, and this time it was no different.

-He'd gotten the foresight one night that his future wife would come to him soon, and when he laid eyes upon you he KNEW you were the one. There was no question about that when you came to help care for him. So tender, so kind, and very loyal. Yes. He knew you were the one who his vision spoke of.

-Kagaya as a yandere would be pretty self aware. He knows these feelings are unnatural and possibly unhealthy, but as his foresight told him of your arrival, it must be meant to be because his foresight hadn't been wrong before.

-He wouldn't have to be manipulative. On his own he's already charming and he's able to convince you to marry him without having to manipulate any aspects of himself. Of course he can be manipulative if he wants to be. Only because he's very concerned about you and wants to keep you near him to protect you from demons. Or at least that's what he tells himself and the corps.

-Wouldnt try to isolate or trap you in anyway. He might try to convince you to stay within or nearby the estate but otherwise he doesn't mind you walking around or going to deliver messages on his behalf similar to how Amane did cannonically. But you'll always ALWAYS be escorted by kakushi or slayers and there's always a few stationed to secretly keep an eye on you about the estate...For your own safely of course!

-Any concerns about the relationship you have are washed away from his gentle and assuring voice alone as he has a way with words as everyone knows.

-Even tho he does allow you to roam the estate and go places freely, he'll always remind you how dangerous it is out there and how much he needs his loyal wife to help him with his day to day life. Sadly this isn't him manipulating too much. After all he IS right. It's dangerous with demons out there especially for his wife if any demon found out who you were, and he actually really DID need you to help him because of his condition which worsened every year. He's happy you choose to stay close even if he did use the current situation to convince you to do so. He simply tells himself it's for the best.

-Once you become pregnant with his children he fully insists on you staying in the estate and gets many healers and other members of the corps to help assist you with the pregnancy as well as himself as you progress along. He's only become more protective and a bit paranoid about you now. However he's also very happy. This means you both are actually a true couple now, and you'd never leave him alone to look after the children alone. He's happy that hes getting a life with you.

-His Kimetsu Academy self is slightly different. He doesn't have the foresight of his Demon Slayer counterpart so he doesn't become yandere out of thinking it's your destiny to be together, but from a sense of wanting to be loved and have a sense normalcy in his life after so much heartache.

-His mother and brothers passed in a fire while his father took his own life. His only other family is his distant relative, Muzan, and they don't have the best relationship either always being at odds. One point someone even mistaken him for Muzan and spraying his face causing the scars upon his face.

-So when he meets someone who expresses a romantic interest in him and who's NOT interested in his money or position, he immediately latches onto the idea of having a normal family life.

-Much like his DS counterpart, he's self aware and knows exactly what he's doing. He also wouldn't isolate or manipulate you (too much) so the relationship is pretty healthy. But like how his counterpart will hide his true natures under a soothing voice, he hides his under the charming personality Kimetsu Academy Kagaya has.

-Keeps you far away from his relative. Like FAR away. Muzan would be the only one who could see under the mask and he won't risk him scaring you off before you get married.

-He loves to spoil you rotten and goes all out on the romance aspect of the relationship keeping in mind to not go overboard and make you uncomfortable. Planning dates and y'all's wedding is his favorite hobby.

-He insists you get a job at his academy or become a stay a home wife insisting he can take care of you and to better keep an eye on you. If you don't do either he'll call or text you at least once a day and if you don't respond within an hour he's heading to wherever you are to 'check on you'.

-Once you become pregnant with both your quintuplets, he gently insists on you becoming a housewife more in order to help better take care of your incoming children. He's got the funds and can stay with you for the entirety of your pregnancy and after.

-he's very attentive and becomes more monitoring during this time. After you, you both were starting on the next leg of your lives together (forever) as a family like he do desperately wanted. He's not going to let that go so easily.

[generalstarkov]

“Alina wondered what flower Zoya would choose for her”

Sankta Zoya, Patron Saint of Retribution, Protector of The Voiceless

Brought to you by @wafflesandkruge, me and our clown to clown communication 

“- hey did you ever posted this?

- hey so remember how you were supposed to write part 2 of this?

- oh” 

So this has been buried in my drafts for 2 years and it was originally part of the grishaverse mini bang but now it’s finally yours

Read what Tiff wrote for my edit here

I will be dissecting all the details I included in Zoya's saint portrait under the cut

Composition

For the composition i drew inspiration from the Holy Trinity portrait on the right. For the coloring/texture I tried to immitate the one on the left. Halos are not as common is orthodox saints as they are in catholic saints, but I thought it looked nice so I added it anyways.

Patronage

“Who would speak for Lilyana, for Genya and Alina and Baghra if she did not? Who will speak for me?”

Tiff and I agreed that Zoya’s patronage had to come out from this passage from KoS, but it was her who chose it because she’s sm better with words than me :^)

The flowers Ever since I had the idea of making a saint portrait for Zoya, I knew I wanted to include elements from her garden. In Rule of Wolves there’s a passage that mentions specific flowers for certain people, but I took the liberty of adding other flowers. For this, I used differente sources but mainly the victorian language of flowers. Some of them are directly associated with death and mourning, some of them are for people Zoya’s lost and some other for those who are still around but that she still grieves over. There are over 200 layers of just flowers in this portrait, just so you know how long this took. Regarding the distribution of the flowers, I tried to place the ones associated to those she loved the most closer to the frame, closer to her. as mentioned in Rule of Wolves Yew for Sergei Hearleaf for Marie Red Sentinel for Fedyor Dahlias for Nina (meaning: eternal love, commitment) My addition Marigold for Harshaw (meaning: sorrow) Penciled Geranium for David (Tiff’s choice, as mentioned in her fic) Buttercup for Alina (meaning: radiant with charm) Orchids for Genya (meaning: elegance, beauty) Aster and Baby’s breath for Lada (meaning: daintiness and innocence) Myrtle for Lilyanna (meaning:love) Black Iris for Baghra (meaning: wisdom, mystery, and rebellion) Forget me not + Gladiolus (meaning: mourning, funeral, you pierce my heart) Chrysanthemum + Pansies (meaning: condolences for someone going through hard times) Hemlock + Nettle (meaning: death, a loved one that is taken too soon) Snow Drop (meaning: consolation, hope) Carnation (meaning: heartache) Camellia (meaning: longing for you) Hyacinth (meaning: please forgive me) Hawthorne (meaning: hope) Orange Blossom (maning: eternal love) Petunia (meaning:anger, resentment) Poppy (meaning: eternal sleep) Rue (meeaning: regret) Asphodel (meaning: my regrets follow you to the grave) Zinnia (meaning: everlasting friendship)

The dragon dress This is self explanatory. I am just gonna say there are lizards and other reptiles involved in this and that it was Tiff’s idea to give her a dress with scales, so thank you Tiff.

The stars

“Few people noticed the little boat that had been painted into one of the six corners, or the flag it flew with two tiny stars. And no one who did would have known what it meant”

King of Scars

The mural It is canon that Alina painted this, so her signature is hidden somewhere in there. I tried to play with filters and textures to make it look as much as an actual mural as possibe.

[npookie0]

reckless reader w/ misaki :> so like a reader who gets into many accidents, almost killing themselves!

Chaos Loving Reckless Idiot.

Misaki x reader, reckless reader, fluff, a lil silly

Words: 859

Cws: Spoilers for Killer Chat! Misaki's route,

Ever since you were a child you were known as someone reckless, clumsy, unpredictable and some more names like these. Your parents were worried sick every time you had to go out or stay at home all by yourself. They couldn't predict whether they would come back to their house set on fire or with you calmly sleep in your bed.

Your life was some serious roller coaster. Being almost run over by a car, stepping on glass, falling from a tree, practically drowning in a lake when you skipped school with your friends were daily occurrence for you. Really, if hospitals handed out loyalty cards you would own one and wear it as a badge of honour.

You were adventurous, it's not your fault you were just curious and a little bit careless! Besides, it's not like you ever got yourself into real danger, a broken arm or leg aren't deadly.

Well...

Then you joined a server for serial killers... Yay!

It was a questionable choice at best. You could end up dead if you let your tongue slip, and knowing you? That could happen any second.

Luckily, the serial killers took you for someone who's just silly in a similar way to Misaki. Someone who likes to goof around and their words should be taken with a grain of salt.

Speaking of Misaki, they're the first person who you started talking to. The two of you clicked immediately, similar interests, the silliness and all that, but there were also moments when you two could relate to each other, support each other through tough times. You were the chaos duo of the server, pranking the other members or flooding the media channel with random doodles you made.

You shared the interesting stories from your life with the assassin over calls and her reaction were always funny to you.

"Babe, I love you and all that, but you did not almost walked straight into a car crash because you were admiring your INSTANT NOODLES!" They gesticulated lively, showing how shocked they were by your story.

"Teehee~" You giggled. "They were totally worth the almost death experience." You showed them a thumbs up. "I should totally go and buy them again."

Misaki shook their head. "I don't know if I'm more in love or worried about you, you little fool."

You just stuck out tongue at them and continued on talking their ear off.

Now, you two were happily seated in your house, or maybe it was just you who was happy because Misaki looked more concerned about you. You shouldn't be surprised, you fell from a tree to give back a kid their toy that they tossed too high up, unfortunately you lost your balance and ended up on the grass with a big piece of glass in your forearm.

"Y/n, baby, love, sugar dumpling, I told you to let me do it." They said while trying their best to take out the glass piece without causing you any pain.

"But the kid asked me so I wanted to do it!" You protested, wincing in pain when she pulled out the glass and watched as she put it aside.

Misaki looked at you, brows slightly furrowed. "You're so lucky you're cute or I would be angry at you." They sighed and gently moved a wet cloth against your skin, cleaning the dirt so it won't infect the wound.

"I'm just worried about you, I've been here for a week and if it wasn't for me you would be... in a hospital at the very least." They looked hurt at the thought, imagining you in a hospital bed gave them serious heartache, they wouldn't function properly knowing that something bad happened to you.

Your eyes widened and your smile faltered. Oh. They're worried, concerned about your wellbeing with how careless you've proven yourself to be. You bit your lower lip, looking away and then down at your forearm. The wound was deep, Misaki will have to stitch it and you will get yet another scar.

"I'm... sorry Misaki." You whispered. "I'll try to be more careful, I promise. Please don't be disappointed." This was the first time you were so concerned about someone worrying about you. Maybe it's because of Misaki being someone you love, or because you don't want to give them more stress and anxiety than they already deal with, or maybe it's because of both.

You felt her hand touching your cheek, gently caressing your skin with her thumb. You leaned into their touch, breathing softly.

"I'm not disappointed, I just want you to be more careful baby." They took a deep breath. "Let's get you patched up, okay? And then we can watch something or play a game, no need for the gloomy atmosphere." They smiled at you.

Their smile made the butterflies in your stomach come alive, flutter in your stomach like crazy. You smiled back, feeling the blush creeping to your cheeks.

"You're so right." You replied.

"I know." She replied playfully with a wink.

Maybe trying to be more careful is worth it, for Misaki's sake and that sweet smile they show you.

A short story I know, but there will be a Ronin joining in soon <3

With love, N!

[athenaluciscaelum]

Romantically involved with Dante throughout various installments in the franchise.

Let's start this account with my first writing, what it will be like to get romantically involved with each Dante in the Devil May Cry franchise.

Disclaimer:

This is my first attempt at writing anything to be open for public scrutiny, so be kind, I do not intend to take any scrutiny for task I'm doing out of my passion, and I am not getting paid for anyway. A constructive criticism in right tone can be welcome. But anything unkind or disrespectful or homophobic or any hate shall be deleted. I do not entertain such things and I do not mind simply deleting them. This being said I will try my best to put trigger warning rightfully in every post but if sometimes, I miss something. You can let me know and educate me on topic respectfully and I will add it promptly.

Note:

I know there is a big debate on whether Dante is virgin or not. I do not believe he is. I just think he is very responsible and that's why didn't have 'an accident' like Vergil. This being said I think he will be more sexually active in some installment of the franchise than the other.

Also, Dante in any age or game will be reluctant and will stop himself from getting romantically involved with anyone. Dabte is smart, humane, and empathetic though he shows otherwise, he knows that one has to always pay the price if they love a Sparda/s. He knows his father was the strongest yet he cannot save one he loved the most. This made one thing certain for Dante, no amount of power guarantees that those who you love will be safe if you are the strongest. Just one slip up is enough to loose all you hold dear. Be it strongest creature to walk the universe or weakest. That being said, Dante will always try to distance himself from one he falls for because he knows this will only make them target or might end tragically. His love will be keeping them safe by distancing themselves. But if one with strong will comes by, I think he will always have this fear but will cave in eventually. This man has lots of hurt, trear my baby nice and he will melt. He got good heart.

Let's rock!

Devil May Cry 3 Manga Dante:

Dante in manga is somewhere around 18-19, though Capcom never age us an age to work with. In manga, he is in his teen. He comes out to be rather rash, out spoken and more rougher around the edges when going against something unknown like his encounter with Alice. We see Dante being a known one in the strip club when he visits Love Planet to get Enzo. And stripper's comment on how he is well ahem endowed.

But I think his inexperience might work in favour to get him off-guard. He might act cocky and like those teenage boys who acts like girls are so common and easily swayed by them. But when he feels the love, oh my, he will be nervous mess. He will not know how to react and will spew something stupid trying to act cool.

DMC 3 Dante:

It's just one year afterwards, in the beginning, he will be very similar to DMC manga Dante. But by the end of the game, he will have lots of scar and will be at his lowest. The pain of losing Vergil and new found respect for his father and the Sparda name. Dante will be more driven with his mission to avenge his mother and some redemption for losing Vergil, if any is possible.

If there is one thing about Dante. He blames himself for everything a lot! He blames himself for all bad around him. So to romantically persuade Dante after the events of Devil May Cry 3 will be nearly impossible. As he doesn't think himself capable when he couldn't protect his brother. But maybe, it is also time when he might need you the most. He will try his best to drive you away, so be ready for lots of heartache and being a literal light in darkness for this man. He will be grateful once he gets out of it.

DMC 1 novel:

As he know it is not actually canon, only some part of it. But still entertains it. Dante actually asks certain Claire out on Dante and looks forward to it. He is certainly open to romantic prospect and it might be easier to approach him. He will may sure, he doesn't get his coat charred or boots dirty to turn out on the date peoper. He will certainly look forward to it.

Dante in novel might act as jerk but we see how much he cares taking care of Gru's two surviving daughter up until adulthood through bank accounts he opened to financially aid them regularly, reference to which we also get in DMC V via Morrison.

DMC1:

In the beginning, he will be chill and in his zone like always, keeping himself to his office and only ever coming out to go on a mission. He won't mind if you ask him on a date or try to get his attention.

When he comes back from the Mallet Island. He will be very similar to the end of Devil May Cry 3, as this time, he will not only lose Vergil, but forced to kill him unintentionally, not knowing he is still alive. He will certainly think anything that he touches turns into complete shit and will try his best to keep you as far as possible. Someone so precious and perfect (to him) should be kept away, so his ill fate might not ruin you as well. He feels like a failure and he will not let you turn into one more failure in list of things he cannot protect. You have to be protected. By being kept as far as away from him. Now it will be only you relentless endeavour to move him that will break his shell, but it will break off eventually.

DMC 1 anime:

Our Dante will be edge lord, we don't know him as, always in his shop, blaming himself for everything wrong in his life and everyone dead or compromised in his life. Every lil mistake is his fault, he doesn't voice it. But it shows after how he feels after Ernest calls him names as he leaves, or Dante blaming himself for what happened with Enzo's hand, though he had no option but to cut it off or Enzo would have died, during special radio episode (only aired in Japan).

I believe along with alcohol, in this timeline, Dante might or might not indulge sexually like ONS or even picking a stripper, just to dull pain, to feel something, when he deserves no love and care. But his lowest and vulnerability might make him drive everyone, but also leave him weak enough to at last open up, if you decide to help him through this hellish time.

DMC 2 Dante:

Well, Dante in his edge-lord emo phase continues. So there is no new development I think there is, then what it was like in DMC 1 ending and anime. He is still very much in pain, but his time in hell, might just give him time to reflect on how harsh he was on himself.

There won't be a chance for interactions anyway. But after he comes back, it will be an open opportunity after Dante saw hell for himself at last.

DMC Deadly Fortuna (Part I and II) and DMC 4 Dante:

Dante is very happy as soon as he know of a surviving kin, the very existence of Nero give him shred of hope and happiness in his life. He went to Fortuna asap to confirm it himself. Before knowing existsnce of Nero, Dante was somewhat healing, a very lil hint is in novel that Dante was thinking of having some sort of family for himself, but Nero existence made him happy and content enough. He has come to an acceptance with his demon and human self, not shunning one totally. He is more open to prospect of any happiness in his life. He is mature and wiser with his cocky self intenr that makes him Dante.

So if you try to hang around him he would be the friendliest, cheesiest and most ridiculously idiot he can be. This Dante will be best one you can ask for in terms of having the best laugh of your life and most adsurd date ideas.

(I see DMC4 Dante as such girl dad coded)

DMC 5 Dante:

As much as I will like to have different category for DMC 5 prequel novel (Before nightmare), I don't think it will be necessary. Romantically speaking, we see Dante turning down Matier offer to give Lucia one good memory, although he do not want to get her involved, or simply he doesn't feel the same for him. I think it is more of later. But however you will like to see him.

But DMC 5 Dante is more aware of himself, he still has that self sabotaging tendencies with how he lives in literal poverty as said in novel, but he gets better as soon as he finds Vergil. Though intial idea of killing him never sits right with him, bit letting Nero feel same pain. It makes him move to be his shield, Dante is always one to protect those he loves, even if it on cost of himself.

If you are romantically involved with DMC V Dante, be assured he will be on Vergil's head all the time, to just rush back to human world and knock some sense in him in doing so.

I know I have missed a lot, but I'm eager to write something for first time, so this Frankenstein note it is. Be kind.

[skybridger4ce]

Chiquitita, you and I know

How the heartaches come and they go and the scars they're leavin'

You'll be dancin' once again and the pain will end

You will have no time for grievin'

Chiquitita, you and I cry

But the sun is still in the sky and shinin' above you

Let me hear you sing once more like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Try once more like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Try once more like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

[michellemisfit]

✨Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Thanks for creating the game and for the tag @jrooc thanks for the tag @vintagelacerosette

Today we’re talking fandom. Come play!

Name and A03 handle: Michelle, michellemisfit

Current Location: Living room, surrounded by feathers, as I’m currently fletching some arrows

Favourite picrew: This one is pretty fucking spot on. Or at least it was at the time. Hair is very different now. But then, hair is always different… lol

Also this one is spiritually VERY me

What's one thing you want in a picrew? Ability to add coloured streaks! And a wide selection of scars, or alternatively the ability to move them around the screen. Either is fine. But mostly the hair thing. My hair is generally 4 different colours. Don’t try and limit me to one!!

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? Erm… 3 way tie between Mexico Gallacrafts, Fimo Gallavich, and Cookie Gallavich? Maybe? Argh. Turns out, looking back at my art tag… I’ve created some pretty cool stuff. Huh. Yay me.

Why is it your favourite? I don’t really do photography, and I’m really proud of the idea behind and the execution of that photo. And while I LOVE drawing more than anything, I don’t think I’m exceptional or anything. But I’m damn creative when it comes to silly 3D craft projects, so both Fimo Gallavich and Cookie Gallavich make me happy and feel like something not just anyone could do… I dunno.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? It was LONG to create. Both cookie and Fimo Gallavich took several days in total. And I think that’s the other thing I like about myself. I am willing to put in the work, and it usually pays off.

Last ao3 fic you commented on? Hah! You’ll be able to corroborate this, I’m not just sucking up!! LOL I’m currently reading Camp is a Battlefield by @blue-disco-lights, @jrooc, and @mybrainismelted, with artwork by @creepkinginc, so that’s the last one I commented on :)

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? I mean… every single WIP I have ever started reading, only to realise that maybe there won’t be any more of it… 😱 Every. Single. One. They’re all special, and they all hurt in their own special ways. And I will remain subscribed to all of them FOREVER, because you never know!!

Also? Comment on WIPs. Tell authors how much joy the story brought you, how much space it’s occupying in your brain, how much you would love to see it continue but how happy you are to have read as much of the story as there is because it’s changed your brain chemistry… do NOT comment saying ‘next chapter when?’, cause that makes you a dick bag.

Favourite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? I’m a sucker for fake dating, only one bed, and a soulmate AU 🤷🏽‍♂️

Least favourite? …not a huge fan of kid fic, but hey, all it takes is a great author to make it work.

Secret or surprising kink or trope? Again, do not kink shame, because you’re only ever one good fanfic away from discovering something about yourself you did NOT see coming…

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? Exhausted and antsy. Is it good enough? Are people gonna like it? Should I even bother anyone with this? Why don’t I just go and hide under a rock forever?? I felt okay about this when I finished it, why is it suddenly the worst thing to have ever been created??? …I wish there was a sense of calm and accomplishment. There is not. Brains suck!

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: @deedala - I so appreciate how we’re on a similar wave length when it comes to art as well as ‘everybody wants to hunt me for sport’ vibes. I know I can always count on you for kind but honest words, and that’s so important!!

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Read comfort fic. Probably Like Real People Do or None the Wiser.

Edit: Also? Go and read comments and tags on old art posts. That’s a sure fire way to cheer me up!

This was fun, and made the 15 minute wait between fletching each feather pass much faster. Thanks!!

If you are currently making your own arrows and need something to occupy your wait time with… how about completing a tag game? lol

@heymrspatel @loftec @creepkinginc @deedala @too-schoolforcool @darlingian @iandarling @iansw0rld @ian-galagher @mybrainismelted @palepinkgoat @crossmydna @mikhailoisbaby @sickness-health-all-that-shit @rereadanon @rutherinahobbit @energievie @junemermaid @francesrose3 @deathclassic @faejilly @rutherinahobbit @gallawitchxx @look-i-love-u @jessij1997 @callivich @celestialmickey @wehangout @doshiart @lynne-monstr @the-rat-wins @blue-disco-lights @suzy-queued @sleepyfacetoughguy @spookygingerr @burninface @gallapiech