#HE MOVED TO A NEW COUNTRY AND LEARNED A NEW LANGUAGE AND DID NOT THROW AWAY HIS EDUCATION TO BE DISRESPECTED LIKE THIS

[bwat5-blog]

**Spoilers for all of Arcane**

WHY THIS SHOW MATTERS FOR ME

"Why do we tell Stories? To try and make sense of a world that can be terrifying and enormous.. I don't know that your story will be long be known.. but it did happen- and it did matter"- Brennan Lee Mulligan, Critical Role, EXU Calamity

Arcane has become a true phenomenon. With record breaking viewership transcending various countries, age groups, sexual orientation, and more. You need look no further for an example than the fact that Heimerdinger's song was recorded more than 25 times by the various voice actors representing our favorite absent minded professor, in different countries and languages around the world. So I suppose the question then, is why?

This is hardly a simple question. Like any media, people are enjoying it for all kinds of reasons. There are die-hard LOL players who love seeing these characters and worlds brought to life. There are people reveling in the enormous diversity of representation in the characters. There are those who love the story of the sisters, Caitlyn and Vi's love story, or the sinister mystery that unfolds as the Arcane itself wakes up in this world. The list of reasons people love this show is endless and rightfully so. So I am writing to explain mine because, primarily, the opportunity to share my thoughts/feelings on this incredible story and discuss, and learn and interact with you all has been a true pleasure as we celebrate the achievement this tale has been. As always, for anyone bored enough to read these I appreciate you.

For me, the best stories have and always will make you look deeper into the humanity of our own world through the lens of the story itself. Don't get me wrong, Arcane is FULL of epic spectacle. incredible fights, beautiful animation and music, and more. It's a tale of magic unleashed and warlords and mad scientists. And please do NOT misunderstand me, I LOVE all of those things. It's just that for me, that's not why this story will always live on long after its over.

Vi is a bad-ass brawler who from a young age is literally holding her own with armed adult thugs and able to throw hands wearing Vander's gauntlets. She is tough and brave and an absolute hardass..She is also a young woman who never knew romantic affection before being thrown into a dark, terrifying prison for seven years.. Who is terrified of losing the last family she has left to the point that she cannot put herself first ..and who just needs her dad

Silco is a brutal crime lord who experiments on the vulnerable of the under city and does not hesitate to kill anyone who crosses him. He takes a scared little girl who is in so much pain and twists her up, and weaponizes her grief to the point that she becomes someone new.. someone darker.. He is also a broken, lonely, maimed man who was almost killed by someone he loved as a brother and is desperately trying to hold on to the young woman he loves as a daughter

Caitlyn is a sheltered but brilliant and wealthy woman who is "an excellent shot" ,and becomes a leader of soldiers and someone willing to sacrifice herself in the name of the greater good.. She is also a young woman who has to learn to see herself in the woman she hates/who killed her mother, learning to set aside that hatred, and rage, and grief in order to move on and keep living, and find peace.

I could go on about other characters or expound on the ones I just mentioned, and have in fact done so in other posts. But you get the idea. These characters (and the others) are so rich, dark, nuanced and beautiful. And when you strip away the magic, and the mutated beasts, and the colorful smoke and music what is left? The struggle of the oppressed against their oppressors, a young woman overcoming her inner demons to become a hero to her people, a warrior who had her childhood stolen from her learning that she deserves happiness and peace. I could go on. There are so many of these examples and they all make up the tapestry that is this show.

This is why I continue to champion understanding and accurate recognition of this show. Because it deserves it. Because the stories of these characters and their fight against the darkness of the world in ways grand and small, are the stories that have illuminated our path forward as people for all of time. In today's age of instant-gratification and flash and noise it's easy to forget the impact of things like this on who we are.. But to those of us who believe in the importance of such stories, it always has mattered. And it always will.

“It's like the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad has happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing this shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer. I know now folks in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something. That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for.”

― Samwise Gamgee

[mr-1-2-3-4]

Backstory brief- LoveHurt

When LoveHurt was around 7 or 10, they had to do something. Their mom came back from a long and tiring “business trip” when she was really in a different country partying and not caring about anything important in her life, like LoveHurt. She went to LoveHurt’s room and seen them drawing some pride flags because LoveHurt was discovery LGBTQ+ at the time because of their lesbian cousin when a the song

“She likes a boy”

Came on her playlist, basically their mom didn’t like it, and threw a bottle at LoveHurt which scared the hell out of them. Then she just grabbed them and almost pushed them down the stairs while yelling that them going off on how LoveHurt’s dad’s side of family was wrong about something shit LoveHurt couldn’t quite hear, so basically LoveHurt ran to the kitchen and grabbed a kitchen knife, and backed away into a corner, as their mother yelled at them and mocked them saying how LoveHurt didn’t have it them to hurt their own mother, so when she went to hit them, out of drunken rage, shit when done way to fast, after a bit after everything happened LoveHurt looked down at what they did to their mother, and her non moving body, and just broke down and called their aunt and wouldn’t stop apologizing and crying and then their aunt called 9-11 and got everything figured out and send one of her bodyguards to go get them because she wasn’t in Finland at the time and her bodyguard was so he pick up LoveHurt, who was still crying and apologizing as the guard tried to calm them down, and eventually broke his on-the-job-personality.

A couple days later LoveHurt was waiting at the airport still crying a bit and just kept their head down until he saw their aunt, a very rich woman, they ran over to her crying as their aunt picked them up calming them down before they got back on her jet, and flew over to California were they grew up for the most part.

School life-

LoveHurt was really into drama class and unfortunately the way they talk is out restless nights off practice, they don’t really mind it because they can’t quite control it.

LoveHurt was popular to say the least, they were tall, rich, well dressed, athletic, but not some jock, they were very kind and helpful and even gave some money to people who were actually in need, and absolutely loved the “weird kids” like, gays, transgenders, nerds, kids on autism spectrum, even helping a few learn sign language to help communicate with their helpers, and would take time out of their class to help some new years or kids in wheelchairs to get to class, some people referred to them as a “golden boy”. Although they didn’t see themself as one. They just focused on school and helping people.

LoveHurt never really bullied anyone, and if they did they didn’t want to, they were once forced into pushing a transgender kid down and made him drop his books, but once the others left, LoveHurt immediately helped him up and picked up his books, and apologized.

Home-

LoveHurt’s mansion, was well cleaned, and the staff were nice, although their aunt was mainly in her office, but when she wasn’t, she would downpour LoveHurt in love they very much needed, taking them out to dance classes, restaurants that weren’t too fancy but were good and that LoveHurt liked, and let LoveHurt throw small parties with their real friends, and not the ones they were forced to be friends with, and enjoy throwing sleepovers with their friends who either dog piled them or slept on top of under them, at the time LoveHurt was asexual and didn’t mind when their friends wanted to cuddle or sleep with them, but LoveHurt was never really in a relationship.

Just cuddle and slight affection from their friends, like head kissing, playing with their hair, which LoveHurt as a massive sucker for love and affection

Their aunt-

LoveHurt’s aunt was a nice woman, she wasn’t really happy with her sister’s behavior, how she was in out of jail in there teenage years, hooking up, partying, stealing money from her and how she treated LoveHurt, and LoveHurt’s aunt was just the opposite from her sister, her sister was the spoiled, daddy’s money type person, while LoveHurt’s aunt, was always kind, grateful, and focused on her future and her small business that grew a lot, she hated when her sister got pregnant and how she had to keep a eye on her, but it was her own choice, she didn’t want her sister to hurt the baby, and when LoveHurt was born their mother was just one her phone and let out a noise of disgust at LoveHurt, LoveHurt’s father, and LoveHurt’s aunt, so LoveHurt’s aunt held LoveHurt and calmed them down quickly then anyone could, until her sister snatched LoveHurt, and took some pictures and posted on her social that she was the best mother ever, that when on for only a week before LoveHurt’s aunt exposed her, and sue her, but she and LoveHurt’s father couldn’t really keep them, LoveHurt’s father was in the military and had to leave them, and LoveHurt’s aunt had to work and had to leave LoveHurt and hoped and pray for the best

The child-

[sixofcrowdaydreams]

There's a handful of reasons I relate to Wylan so strongly, but one of them has to be the unique experience of being an illiterate adult.

A few years ago, right before the pandemic, I moved across the world to work in a country where I didn't speak the main language. None of the languages commonly spoken in my new home uses the Latin alphabet so attempting to read and pronounce any letters/words in an unfamiliar writing system has been difficult.

Just don't be ignorant, you might think. Learn the language! For the record, I did. Well, I started to, but then the pandemic hit. My language class stopped and strict quarantines limited opportunities to practice. Two years and two babies later the world opened back up. Work and my tiny dictators, I mean, toddlers have kept me too busy to throw myself into learning the language with the gusto I once had. But over the years I've learned enough to get by with basic pleasantries: hello, goodbye, thank you, yes, no. Numbers 1-10. And how to order food at a restaurant. "How are you?" "Good." Unfortunately, that’s the limited extent of my conversational abilities.

The alphabet still trips me up and I often feel like a kindergartner slowly stringing syllables together and incorrectly sounding out words. Plus, there's the bonus of pronouncing the words but still not knowing they actually mean.

So I relate to Wylan a little bit in having to navigate the world at a disadvantage, one he cannot fully understand. Luckily for Wylan he can speak even though he can’t read, which gives him more coping strategies than are available to me. But you don’t realize just how much is written, especially in the modern world, until you are unable to read it.

Being an illiterate adult is a humbling experience. I cannot emphasize that enough. Book Wylan is a teenager, but was thrown into the “real world” and left to fend for himself as if he were an adult. Show Wylan is an illiterate adult who was also more or less thrown into the wild world. And I’d like to imagine that he shares similar illiterate adult encounters and experiences with me.

There isn’t a moment that I forget that I can’t read the language around me. However, it’s very easy to tune out the writing. To be blind to it and not see signs or labels because my brain stops looking for them, unable to to understand them.

Getting lost. Knowing the name of the place, a building, an address, the street that I'm searching for, but not being able to locate it by sight even though it is right there.

Walking past shops and stores unable to read their name and wondering what’s inside. What do they sell? What business do they hold? There’s no way of knowing unless I go inside myself.

Shopping and buying items based on the image on the packaging. Trying to figure out if there’s any difference between two items. Occasionally guessing wrong, buying the wrong thing.

Need instructions? Written directions (like for cooking)? Lol, Guess I'm going to wing it and hope for the best.

Being unable to read a written menu and ordering something generic because the restaurant probably serves it.

Putting off chores that require using the skill I don't have.

Having to act overly polite to everyone (regardless of how I feel) because I am the inconvenience when everyone else is just living their normal life.

Being treated like a child because, in my inability to read, I have the skills of a child so people will treat me the same way they would a child. And worse, all the while still having to act so polite about it because again, I am the inconvenience, even though I am being spoken down to like a child.

Accidentally, unintentionally being rude because I can't follow the sign's directions.

Pretending that I can read (or speak). Sometimes nodding along and agreeing with without any context is easier than a admitting I don't have a clue what's happening.

And in the modern day... I rely heavily on my cell phone to translate the way Wylan would use speech to text features. And there are times when there's no cell service, the phone or app stop working correctly. The translations/transcriptions are imperfect and confusing. It's scary when those safety nets stop working.

So yeah, being an illiterate adult is quite the experience. It can be exhausting. I am incredibly lucky that in my case it's due to living in a multicultural world and that given the time and patience, I could became literate and fluent in another language. The entire experience gives quite the insight on the hurdles and experiences Wylan might face.

[historymakesmeangry]

Hogan's Heroes after the war headcanons

Carter:

I'm taking this from a fic I read (can't remember the name rn), but he would totally become a high school chemistry teacher- would be the students' favorite teacher for sure

Starts a family pretty soon after coming home, has a big family which he loves wholeheartedly

Tells stories of the war to his children and grandchildren despite it being classified, no one knows if he's telling the truth or not (and yes, he does both, he loves tell more tame, false stories to make the real stories seem more outlandish)

Goes partially deaf during the war from his explosions

Helps create the town's Fourth of July fireworks show, people come from all over the state (and sometimes surrounding states) to see it

Hogan:

Stays in the military afterwards - the higher ups wanted to make him a General but he reasoned he would be stuck behind a desk more often than not, so does as much as he can (read: gets into trouble) to stay a colonel

Stays in Germany, officially working in West Germany but takes frequent trips to East Germany as a spy (perhaps he works for the newly formed CIA with his military job being a cover)

Keeps in touch with Shultz and Klink after the war, mostly to bother them or to use them for a scheme of his. But makes sure they have enough food during the hard times (which isn't as bad bc they live in West Germany)

Marries Tiger a long time after the war, they both got busy and hardly ran into each other, but they knew they wouldn't find someone else better for them after years had past (they wanted to settle down before they did and both of their jobs didn't allow that)

Kinch:

I see him staying in the military as well, do know what he would do, but I don't feel like he would be stationed or work in Europe. Maybe he works as a translator

Keeps on learning new languages, he loves languages and tries to learn as much as he can

Boxes in his spare time, he's the champion of his category for a long time running, it becomes a challenge in his neighborhood to beat him in a fight

He keeps up with radios as well, taking in old ones to fix and resell and making some by scratch, never sees the interest in TV, the radio is all you need

Starts a good sized family, it was never a question on wanting to (as so many decide not to have kids to bring them into horrible situations the world can throw at them), he had his mind set on a family since he was a child

LeBeau:

Starts a successful pastry restaurant in Paris

Has enough money and respect to open another or even make his restaurant bigger, but denies it, wanting to have the smaller, homier feel

He tries to find Mayra to marry, but gives it up when he finds a woman much better than her (the rest of the team all gave a collective sigh of relief when he met his wife)

Rescues dogs to a point it becomes an issue that his friends had to hold an intervention

Newkirk:

Also inspired by a fanfic (which I also don't remember it's name), he goes into the BBC, first starting with radio, but when TV becomes popular he moves onto that - acting of course, but once and a while he'll help with the costumes when they are understaffed and out of time

Is asked by the government to keep on spying for them, but he never liked that stuff anyway, too many people getting shot

Does marry but never has kids by choice (he had a horrible father and doesn't even want the chance of becoming like him), he spoils his nieces and nephews instead

Goes without question that they all keep in contact, with Carter sending the most letters, and even meet up in one of their respective countries every couple of years

[leaguepremsinfo]

full name: viktoryia krawaczyńska (fc: mia wasikowska)

alias(es): vik, tilly.

birth date: 14th february

birth place: moscow, russia

sex: female

age: timeline dependent 

sexual orientation: redacted 

height: 4'9" / 1.5 m

weight: 77lbs

eye color(s): left eye is a light hazel, right eye is a dark brown

hair color: dark brown / black / red streaks

hair length: varies. lets it grow to her hips before cutting it back to her shoulders

build: slender and slim but surprisingly muscular

scars: many. lots on her fingers and hands, large one between her breasts, small scar on her neck, scar from a bullet wound on her left shoulder

best traits of her personality: brave, bold, adapts easily, strong, consistent, loyal

worst traits of her personality: short temper, sharp, speaks without thinking sometimes

parents: unknown to her, two people killed by a crime ring who then raised her

occupation: freelance thief, spy, assassin, honeytrap

languages spoken: fluent : russian, english, french, italian, spanish, polish, romanian, dutch, swedish, limited : Greek, portuguese, mandarin

skills and hobbies: hand to hand combat, using guns/automatic weapons, using swords and knives, drawing, athletics, baking, ballet.

History :

Taken from the parents that were tragically and brutally murdered, Vik was raised by Vernon and Izobel Krawaczynska, the man who was head of a top crime syndicate in Moscow and his wife who couldn’t have her own children. Izobel gave the child a caring hand during these years before her husband took over the education and rearing of the girl who was clearly learning quickly. Some would remark how the child seemed to learn things incredibly fast, being able to read at an eerily young age.

He had Viktoryia taught by various tutors and his own men – they began with languages and basic endurance exercises, while also having her educated in normal ‘academic’ subjects and allowing her one activity of her choosing. After seeing books with pictures of the Russian ballet, she chose that and she flourished in it, having a natural elegance that’d become handy in her later years. She never had dreams of becoming a ballerina; it was all-too clear that girlish dreams like that were off the cards for her, even then.

On an unsuspecting Wednesday evening, Izobel died after an enemy of Vernon shot at them through the window of their home. This affected Viktoryia terribly, the girl now lost without the one sliver of warmth she had, but as Vernon became colder, so did she, throwing herself into her training and finally being allowed to learn to use guns and blades. If that was the only way to prove herself, to show him that she was worth his attention, then she’d excel, she’d be the best of the best.

Viktoryia was clearly becoming weapon-like, the men putting her through trials to see how she was coming along. Her new lessons were about accents and dialects, teaching her to speak as though she were native to whichever country they would be having her work in. The trials were tough, but Vik grit her teeth and got on with it, she fought better than most and her elegance that had played such a part in the ballet shone through here - she moved so gracefully, almost like she was performing the nutcracker, as she sliced up bags of sand and sometimes Vernon’s own men. It was after watching her get through three hours of being put through her paces that Vernon decided she was ready to truly show her worth.

They threw her into the work, sending her to various countries to work undercover at other criminal rings to find out their secrets and plans, then fed them back to her own group. She loved it, it gave her purpose, made her feel useful and she worked so hard not to let herself stray from concentrating on the work. But then of course, there was Anatoly.

Anatoly was dark, dangerous and had a smile that made her feel like the only woman in the world. He would whisper in her ear in the corridors and kiss her wrist when nobody was looking. She tried to not let him consume her, but he did. She’d do anything for him. She loved him.

When she returned from a dicey mission in Italy, she discovered that Vernon had been murdered horrifically and suddenly and nobody had thought to contact her, to bring her home to grieve. It made no sense to her, a random attack – surely his men ought to have been keeping guard? For once, since Izobel died, Vik wept. She sobbed and screamed and wailed and Anatoly was there to hold her to his chest, to kiss away her tears and make her feel whole again. He took up Vernon’s place and Vik supported him, sitting on his knee, killing for him, living for him.

Though it came crashing down - someone’s lip was too loose and she soon found out that Anatoly had been the serpent who’d killed the man she saw as a father, but upon confronting the viper, he convinced her it was for the greater good. And she sucked it up. Believed it. It was better than .. the truth made her wild. He thought he could keep the truth from her? Hide how power-hungry he had been, how he’d taken the opportunity to pounce while she - the only person who could’ve stopped him - was out of the country. She killed eight men before ending up in his office. Left him for dead on the floor after making him beg, with a broken chain in hand and a bloody V carved into his cheek.

Viktoryia left Moscow. First, she took up residence in Paris, taking a few months to set herself up there and find a way to start making money with the only skills she knew how to utilise. She got her name out there in the same circles and began working once more. The money is good; the work is never ending. She is content. She lives wherever she needs to in various hotels and small apartments.  Though she can’t help but feel like she’s being watched.

[taesthetes]

.

[sugarakis-p2]

I love you, mommy!

Happy Valetines day!

You new Mothman Shigaraki likes to piss and play video games and it is driving you nuts until Valentines day!

Warning: immature angst Mothman Shigaraki with mommy and piss kink, references to marking and knotting! unedited!

You deeply regret becoming the Mothman’s Mommy.

You broke the rules, and now you have a giant terrifying Mothman named Shigaraki moving in. His childlike ways are endearing. When he discovered the tv and watched Sesame Street, learning how to speak your language, and USA holidays. Today was valentine’s day. Yesterday it was Mother’s Day, before Thanksgiving. But when he decided that he was now living with you, things got more complicated.

You never have anyone visit, so you didn’t see the harm in letting sleep inside, especially on stormy nights. You were more afraid of them than he was, but Shigaraki would hump you until it was over, excited by your fear. You are screeching his name and saying this might be a real emergency. He hums and purrs like a kitten, filling you with cum, and tries to let you know you are safe with him. More in actions than words.

The marking was not appreciated. You told Shigaraki to stop and showed him where he could go, but every so often, you will catch a whiff of it hidden somewhere behind a house plant or dresser. He still pulls out and marks you. It got annoying cleaning it up every time, so you pissed on him to see if he liked it. He was thrilled, so you consider that as a bad mommy act on your part. You tell him to knock it off, and he snorts in confusion.

He ignored you like an angsty teenager. With the tv, he also discovered video games. He started out slow, then it evolved to every day for hours, to the point he wouldn’t hunt for himself. He gained weight, and in one week, the only time you saw him move from animal crossing was when you locked him out of your bedroom for the night. You scolded him when you caught him pissing around your house and for spending all his time playing games.

He threw a tantrum, destroying the stuff you brought from the major city. Your childhood treasured items. When he got tired of that, and you refused to unlock your bedroom at night, he walked into the kitchen and held out your spatula.

Acting like it was your most precious item. You honestly didn’t start cooking until you moved to the country. You laughed when he decayed it in front of you. He really hated that. It would be annoying you had to go buy a new one.

He stomped upstairs and decayed your door. Spending the rest of the night dragging in branches, building a giant bird’s nest in your room. Chittering and hissing the whole time. At night he yanked your blanket off and put it in the nest.

“I can sleep just fine without it,” you said, crossing your arms and sleeping with your back to him. He buzzed and flapped his wings at you, crossing his arms, growling. You were freezing when you fell asleep. Only to wake up in his arms wrapped in his wings.

Another standstill is when you told him you had a real name.

“You know you can call me,” you started.

“Mommy!” he crossed his arms and snarled.

“No, I have a name, and it’s not mommy,” you told him.

“MY mommy!” he snorted, throwing the controller, stomping to your room, and pissing on your bed. You were so mad, made worse with his smug face, when he patted the blanket in the nest next to him. You screamed and threw up your hands, yelling at him.

“Bad boy. You are a bad, bad, very bad boy! I am so mad at you!” Grabbing your pillow to sleep on the couch.

He is incredibly jealous and possessive. This was around the same time as the sleeping wars. You had bought rabbits to feed him. He was eating you out of house and home. So, you bought a rabbit hutch and several bunnies for him. You had a sweet little breeder mommy rabbit you liked and even had in the house. He did not like you doting over the rabbit, ignoring him while playing video games. You saw it and explained to him that she is just a pet. He growled.

You had come in from a day of chores and video recording. You have a large savings account, but you need to pad that out for the long term. Especially if you have a giant monster boy to take care of. People love your countryside green acres type of videos. To him sucking at the blood of the rabbit from the bitten throat. You cried and called him a bad boy.

“No bad boy! I eat! My rabbit. Mommy feeds me my rabbit,” he snarled. You sobbed but never made the mistake of paying too much attention to something else. You tried to go back to the old rules. Locking him out to force him to hunt and sleep in his hole. He did not accept this. He kicked the door open and slept in his nest. Feeling the malice and anger roll off him.

You cried because he was making your life hard, and you have no idea how to make him behave except to deny him his ‘big boy’ time. Which is his term for sex. He hasn’t forced himself on you, but he is more than strong enough. You have seen him tear a person apart.

He is nocturnal. When the census bureau person came to ask you questions, you did not think this would be an issue. But when he heard a stranger talking to his mommy, he charged down the stairs so quick they didn’t have enough time to scream as he ripped the person apart.

“Bad boy! How could you!” You screamed. He had decayed the remains and the car. You had cried most of the night cleaning up his crime scene. He seemed remorseful. He cringed when you called him a bad boy this time, jerking in pain with every shout. His antennae and wings drooped. He made whiney noises as he chittered to himself. Not arguing when he turned the car to dust as you instructed.

He had come and nuzzled your crotch. You can feel his hot breath and his nose against your clit, while you are bent over scrubbing blood. You whip around to smack him in a rage. It wasn’t bad enough that you are an accessory to murder now he wants to fuck! God, you are angry. But you stop when you see his large red doe eyes, his droopy sad posture. He spoke the clearest for the first time.

He points to himself.

“Good boy... I good boy….sorry…please mommy,” he sputters. Buzzing in agitation.

“You are still a very bad boy. You don’t trust mommy. There is a difference between protecting and being a spoiled, selfish brat. I know you know the difference. I can’t even look at your right now,” you shout, sobbing as you go back to the task of cleaning dust and blood. He sits facing the corner, whimpering and fluttering his wings sporadically.

He gave you your blanket back and made himself scarce for the next several weeks. Of course, people came. You were questioned by the cops. But being backwoods and how many disappearances in the area skyrocketed in the area twenty years ago, it wasn’t a huge surprise when a person went missing. But it can’t happen again. Not here and not because of you.

Things like dead birds, flowers, and shiny rocks have been left on your door. Then they stopped. After a few weeks, you started to get worried and called for him. It wasn’t long until he was there. Fresh scars and too skinny.

“Come home,” you wailed. He is so quick and strong. You didn’t see him move when he held you close, vibrating, wings flapping.

“Sorry, mommy. I be good. I good boy,” he whimpered. Nipping and licking, feelers are running over your wet cheeks, tickling.

“I shouldn’t have yelled. Come back home,” you sniffled. He lifted you. You can feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest. He is so fast. He quickly puts you in his nest in the house as he hums and trills to you. He yanks the blanket off the bed. You had cleaned, steamed, and flipped the mattress and still didn’t want to sleep on it. Collapsing on top of you, he trills louder with kitten-like purrs. Pulling your top off to use your breasts as a pillow. Exhausted, he pulls the blanket over both of you and snuggles in.

You wake up to the smell of your house burning. You throw on a shirt and run downstairs to a room filled with wildflowers and smoke. Ignoring this, you run to the kitchen, Shigaraki Flapping his wings out the back door and away from the smoke alarm that was driving him nuts. You open windows and remove the burning pain from the flame on the stove.

You are coughing so hard it is hard to take a breath in. Rough hands are guiding you outside into the warm sun and fresh air. You inhale deeply in the air, suddenly there is a pained keen coming from behind you. You look to see Shigaraki had run back into the shadows and looked miserable.

The sun burns his pale skin and hurts his eyes. Gulping at the air, you go to check on him.

“Are you ok?” you ask, checking over his face and body. He whines pitifully and rubs his face in your belly. After the smoke has cleared, you go in to see the disaster that is in your kitchen. A dripping mixing bowl of dripping batter, flour, broken eggs everywhere. Lifting the spoon in the batter, the batter runs like chunky bog water.

“What were you trying to make?” you asked, amused. The tall Mothman gently guides you to the tv. A woman on the set instructed how to make a beautiful Valentine's day breakfast for your love. Heart-shaped strawberry pancakes. You looked around again and noticed piles of wildflowers and misshapen boxes with badly tied bows. One has a handmade card.

Inside was a poorly handwritten message, but extremely impressive since he was learning from tv.

I’m sorry. I love you, mommy. Happy Valentine’s Day!

It made your heart race at how sweet it was. It was Valentine’s day, and it was unusual for a male to be giving gifts, so it must have been from the Sesame Street episode. He was really trying to make up for being a brat.

You make the pancakes for him. He is delighted to watch and then eat. Plying you with gifts to make up for what he destroyed. Shiny rocks and crystals. Acorns and pine nuts. A fox fur and a live bunny to make up for the one he ate. He is on his knees in front of you, begging for you to play with his white hair.

“I love all of it,” you say with a sigh. In frustration, then smile when you have an idea, “I’m really proud and impressed. But Mommy still has issues with how you spend your time and how you treat me because I let you get away with so much.” You start to say, he starts chittering and hissing. Scratching his neck while beating his wings in agitation. You grab his hand, and he stops with a look of anticipation in his scarlet eyes.

“We are still learning how to live together, and I don’t think either one of us wants to go back to the old rules. So, new rules. You hide from people during the daylight and leave them alone unless I scream for help. You can watch as many educational programs as you want, but video games are limited to three hours. Most importantly, you must help me,” you say, cupping and caressing his face.

“I need you to help me make night content. Help me find some of these wonderful things you have brought home. I need you to protect me when we are in the forest. Can you be my good boy and protector?” You ask. He gives you a huge fanged grin, nodding vigorously.

“Yes! Good boy for my mommy,” he rasps. You are going to accept being his mommy. A part of you believes you both need this relationship. He nuzzles and whimpers at your crotch. His eyes heavily hooded with lust, “Proud mommy. Good boy. Big boy. Big boy for being a good boy.” He moans.

You blush deeply, knowing that he wants to be rewarded.

“You want big boy time for following the new rules?” You ask. He nuzzles further between your legs, making you squirm and trying to press your legs together. He pulls away and sneezes. He shakes his head and fluffs his ruff with several sharp chirps. Cooing, he holds out his arms to lift you. You sigh and give in to the cute giant monster man.

“Ok, big boy…hey, whoa!” Before you can say more. Shigaraki is carrying you to his nest, throwing you down, falling on top to cage you in his arm. He gives your lips a tentative flick of his tongue. He waits for further permission while he gropes at your chest. His hungry look and experienced touch are giving you wicked ideas.

“Do you want kisses or for mommy to feed you?” you ask. You can’t produce milk, but he does not care. He loves suckling like a baby.

“Feed me, mommy,” he pleads with large innocent eyes. You wonder how he manages that since he is not innocent.

“Ok, my sweet big boy.” He makes an excited squeal as you shimmy out of your clothes. Quickly grabbing a and tossing it down. When you lay down, he is on you, nuzzling your breast and waiting for you to be more encouraging. You guide his rooting mouth to your nipple, cradling his head and gentling petting him. Running your fingers in his hair, a little moan slip from you as he sucks, licking your hard nipple.

He whimpers a little when you guide him to the other breast. You can feel his hips jerking into the nest. His eyes are giving you a hungry look while he moans lustfully. It makes you wet between your legs. You squirm under him, feeling like you are about to climb out of your skin. You find him so hot, which makes you pull away. He removes his own clothes, showing off his large hard cock he strokes in front of you.

He is pressing himself between your legs. You raise a hand and press it against his chest. You shake your head since you have not given him permission to enter you. But he has a surprise for you as he presses down harder.

“Mommy is wet for me,” he says huskily, sharp teeth clicking. He rubs his hard cock through your slick folds, pussy lips caressing him perfectly. You almost cum from how deep his voice is. It is the best and hottest sentence he has ever said. You are so proud you forgot to give him permission to rub himself against your clit that is sending little tingles of pleasure through you.

“Mommy is so proud, ok big boy, you can have your treat,” you tell him. You roughly grab the softest fur you have ever felt on his neck and seal his chapped lips you yours. The rough texture threatens to make you bleed. You don’t care as Shigaraki hums and bucks his hips against yours wildly.

“Tight, mommy. Wet tight, mommy. My mommy!” he snarls.

With unrestrained lust, he cages you to him, trying to make you one with him. His length is stirring every nerve in your warm wet walls. The friction and sweat between your heated skin make his scent stronger of wild woods and pure masculine musk you want to drown in.

“So good!” You scream, “You are such a good boy!” Like a coiled snake that has slumbered in you too long. An explosion of pleasure strikes like lighting through your entire body. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, snarling, drool dribbling down your chin as you arch into him. Rising his wings vibrates in the core of your being, sending your mind to dark places of carnality.

Feeling his cock twitch in you, you think he is about to pull out and cum on you. He usually promptly follows this by pissing on you. Today he was full of surprises as he ground deeper. Through clenched fangs, he roars when his knot expands and throbs. Shigaraki’s eyes are rolled back, his body shaking and jerking with every tight squeeze your orgasm gives his cock.

His cum and knot create a pronounced bulge. You writhe, and he whimpers. He makes a thrilling trill you have never heard before. Wings and feelers vibrate as he shoots ropes of hot cum in you.

“You better not piss in me!” you shout, grabbing his hair and yanking roughly. He grunts with a wicked grin and bucks harder, “If you be a bad boy, I will spank you!” You warn, yanking again.

“Yes, mommy,” he hisses. He collapses on top of you, kissing and cooing when you feel it. The sudden rush of more hot liquid in you makes you scream and cum again on his painfully stretching knot. You are panting and spasming more on him. He drools in ecstasy. You realize your mistake too late. You tell him not to do something, and he will do it. You gasp one last time before sighing resigned.

“What am I going to do with you?” you say. He kisses and nuzzles.

“My mommy. Love, my mommy,” he rasps sweetly as you pet him.

You feel Shigaraki’s chest expands and contract with gulps of air. He looks down at you with slack-jawed worship

[joanquill]

Brother From Another Mother

Moving away from your country, it can get scary. From learning another language to learning the customs, traditions, and culture… It can get overwhelming. Good thing you have people who feel like your second home.

Albert James Moriarty

Tag/s: Foreign!Fem!Reader, Platonic

"(Y/N)?" you heard a groggy voice call out and saw Albert by the kitchen door.

"Good morning," you greeted, keeping your eyes on what you were cooking.

"It's three in the morning," he yawned with a frown, making his way to you.

He furrowed his brows as he looked over your shoulder, trying to figure out what you were making.

"Homesick?"

"You can say that," you halfheartedly answered, adding some finishing touches to it.

"My mother used to make it for me every day back when I was a kid," you explained, giving him some as you took a bite of yours.

You let out a satisfied sigh as you savored your food while Albert looked at his curiously.

"It's not poisoned," you rolled your eyes, showing your food.

He shrugged as he took a bite, trying to figure out what flavor it was.

You saw his eyes light up as he looked back at you, making you smile smugly.

"Pretty good, right?" he nodded as he took another bite.

"You're an excellent cook," he complimented, making you lightly laugh.

"Trust me, hers are way better than what I can make," you proudly stated, taking another bite.

"You should make these more often,"

"And feed about ten mouths?" you raised a brow,

"Then ask Louis for help these instead of sneaking into the kitchen in the dead of night,"

"Where's the fun in that?" you chuckled, taking another bite.

"Funny question," another voice chipped in, making you both turn to the door.

The person lit a candle, and you saw Louis, a deep frown etched on his face.

You and Albert quickly his your meals as you wiped your mouth while Albert covered his, still chewing.

"And I suppose you are cleaning up the mess you made, Miss (Y/N)? Unlike other nights," he asked, making you nervously laugh.

"I was starting to think we had rodents in the manor,"

"Of course, of course… Sorry about those," you reassured, making him sigh.

"Clean up before you two go back to bed. You both have a party to attend tomorrow," Louis reminded, making you both greet him goodnight as he went back.

You and Albert sighed in relief, making you lightly laugh.

"We better finish up before Louis comes back," you reminded as you finished your food, dusting off your hands as you put the kitchenware you used in the sink.

"Right, right," he finished his food and took a rag, wiping off the counter you two ate.

"And don't think that food was free. You owe me,"

"Then should I cook something for you?" you could hear the smirk in his voice as you remembered what he cooked the last time he was in the kitchen.

"On second thought, you can just knit me a sweater,"

"Come on…!" you pulled Albert along the boutique as he tried to walk away.

"Why do you even need me here?"

"Because you know more about what dresses are appropriate here than me," you explained with a huff, "And I need someone to pay. My money doesn't really work here, remember?"

"Glad to hear I'm your walking bank," he joked, making you roll your eyes.

"Then how about when we go to my country, I'll treat you to any souvenirs you want?" you suggested, making Albert consider your offer.

"…Throw in you teaching Louis new recipes and helping in the kitchen," he bargained, making you furrow your brows.

"Do you prefer eating stargazy pie every night?" he asked, making you see his point.

"Hm…" you hummed, holding on to your chin.

"Help me with cleaning duties?"

"Deal," he smiled as you both shook your hands on it.

"But did you have to go to the most expensive shops?"

"Yes,"

"What do you think?" you asked, holding out two dresses to Albert.

"I like this one the most," you held up the dress in your favorite color, "But they said this is better for balls," you held the dress recommended by the clerks.

His eyes looked over at both as he checked the fabric.

"This one should be good," he answered, pointing at the one in your favorite color, "I don't think the host of the party is too strict with dress codes,"

You smiled as you went to the dressing room, excited to see how it would look on you.

"Tada!" you grinned as you drew the curtains, showing Albert your dress.

He smiled as you twirled around, admiring yourself in the mirror.

"It looks good on you,"

"Thanks!" you beamed, looking at how the dress moved with you.

"You look stunning, miss!" the clerk beamed, making you smile at her.

"You have such a beautiful wife, Lord Albert," she added, making you stop as you both turned to her.

"Wife?" you asked, making the clerk look at you innocently.

Your face turned pale and twisted in disgust as Albert let out a hearty laugh, walking away with his hand on his stomach.

"OH-GOD- NO, THAT'S DISGUSTING!" you clarified, shaking your hand in protest, "He's practically my brother!"

The clerk gasped as her face became red.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she apologized profusely, bowing her head.

Albert started to calm down, sniffling as he wiped the tears out of his eyes and sat back down.

"She's just a close friend of mine," Albert smiled as the clerk covered her mouth.

"As she said, she's like the spoiled little sister I never had,"

"Thank you," you exaggerated, making Albert chuckle.

"I-I see… I'm sorry for the confusion," she apologized as Albert reassured her.

"So, we're buying that dress?" Albert asked as you nodded, looking back into the mirror.

"Yep, definitely!" you smiled, swaying your hips as you watched the dress swish along.

"Then I guess we're done,"

"Now, hold on," you grabbed his arm, making him look back at you.

"I still have to pick matching jewelry," you reminded, making Albert scoff.

"You have a jewelry box as big as a crate,"

You groaned as you looked back in the mirror.

"You're no fun, sometimes,"

"Mhm, just wait until we go to your homeland."

[missameliep]

I was so happy to read your feedback, Lori, and every lovely thing you had to say about this story and my writing <3

I have no words to thank you!

I'm grateful to have such a supportive friend! And I'm also glad that even starting with the second part the story still makes sense, because I was really torn between starting right when I did, or just set the begining in the past, when they first met and follow chronologically...

But then I thought: why don't I just tell the readers what to expect, but make a mystery why even though they've become fast friends that one summer, they never got to meet again in the following years and Hamid doesn't even recognize/remember Elizabeth. And just throw some questions there: can they resume the friendship? Could they fall in love? Why there's no Facebook? (I intentionally chose a timeline with before social media for a reason. We're doing this the old way! lol)

All those questions will be answered in the next chapters. But for now, I'll answer yours. (Under the cut because it's long and some things might be a little spoilery...)

When did he move to the UK? Hamid's father is a Turkish diplomat in the AU (a commercial attaché) and his family moved to the UK because his father was assigned to work at London and closely with some important people at UK (let's say the Earl of Edgewater is one of them). They moved to the UK one year after Hamid and Elizabeth first met in the story.

Is he a jock? How many sports does he play? Not exactly. Hamid has a lot of energy, and loves all kinds of sports, then it was natural that he'd engage in some of those in school, but I wouldn't define him as a jock in the common sense of the word. He's enthusiastic about a lot of things, and in the 3rd part we'll learn more about him and some of his other interests.

Hamid plays for the basketball and soccer teams; and PE is one of his favorite subjects in school. He's been in the tracking team before and even tried lacrosse because it looked fun, but it didn't work for him. He's a natural at soccer and has fun with it (which is always an important factor), plays mid-field, but truly loves to be in the basketball team, he's got the height and skills necessary to be the shooting guard or the two (I had to look it up in the Wikipedia lol), because of his speed and communication skills, and he's also a good shooter (specially three-points and this will become important in the story. Kind of spoilery. Mark my words). But he's not exactly a jock. He plays for fun, and is not disciplined enough to give his 100% at trains, or skipping parties before big games, or consider making any of this a career or even a chance for earning a scholarship.

But is he also a good student? Or does he charm his teachers and headmaster/headmistress to get out of trouble? Hamid is a good student, but not great. He usually doesn't skip classes, unless he's sick because he loves to socialize; and he gets good enough grades to pass, but he's not 1st of his class, for instance. He's intelligent and a fast learner, any language he focus on learning comes naturally to him (and he's already fluent in English as we see from the start, Turkish, that's his mother tongue, Arab, French and a little Greek, because Mediterranean), and he's that student who will get an A sometimes in his favorite subject, but also a D because he forgot there would even be a test that day. His mind is all over the place (hormones, and being a teen, and girls, and movint to a different country and etc) and sometimes it gets hard to focus on school. But he's a favorite amongst the students - totally sweetie with the new ones - and teachers. It's not uncommon to charm the teachers to get whatever he wishes either for him or on the benefit of fellow students.

Does he have a girlfriend or just lots of adoring fans? 😏 At this point in the story, just fans. It's not relevant to the plot, but he used to have a girlfriend; that won't be really meaningful when the story starts in part 1, except for the fact that the girls who crush on him are really invested to be his next girlfriend, which is hinted from the start. Since the break up, he's kissed many girls during summer (and didn't forget their names btw because he's not inconsiderate), and he's just trying to be his own person, find out what he wants from life, and Hamid does love to be around girls. He grew up with 5 sisters and that definitely counts for something. And maybe he's still thinking Elizabeth is one of the girls he met during the summer of 2005... we'll learn more about it soon.

Elizabeth is adorable as a kid and teenager 😍 definitely the kind of girl I'd want to be best friends with. So do I! Elizabeth is the quiet girl who surprises everyone with how funny and loyal she can be; and very daring when she has to. At 11yo, she's much carefree than at 15yo, but we'll have some insights of what our girl has gone through.

Oh, I need info on her too. What are her extra curricular activities? Is she part of the debate team? School newspaper/radio? Have you being going through my drafts? Because I struggled a lot with which clubs/societies she should join, and in the new school I was torn between two, and in the end I picked debating and we'll learn a bit about it in the third part. She's just starting school now, and is finding her foot with the extra curricular activities and classmates as well. Hamid will always be a valuable ally, no matter what. In the previous school, she was in the literary society, chess club and debating. She tried the astronomy club too, but lost interest after a few meetings, but loved the photography society.

Is her mom alive? If so, does Elizabeth live with her? Elizabeth's mom is alive, and she lives with her, not with her father. We'll get to meet her briefly in one of the last parts, though that's still a pretty rough draft.

But oh man... How could Hamid forget her? Did she change more than she actually thinks she did? 🤔 Hamid doesn't seem like someone who has Mariah energy She changed more than she thinks she did. Briar will be real about that very soon (tough love!). Four years when you're entering your teen years makes a lot of difference. It's hinted in the second part that her appearance was something that she got picked on by Henrietta and her grandmother had concerns as well, because Elizabeth was a little overweight, not much, but she wasn't skinny like the other girls or how they thought she should be (she was living the transition from childhood to become a teenager, changed countries, school, had to adapt to a new way of life, all in the short spam of like 2 years, lost the place she called home, the beach and the sun, so girl was going though a lot. She may have eatten her fair share of candies and chocolatte to go through); aside from dying her hair, Elizabeth was not a posh girl when she met Hamid, not stylish, you have to picture her in loose t-shirts, denin cyclist shorts and puff undefinied curly hair with strippy highlights like Christina Aguillera (her hair is always the BEFORE in those videos in IG about curly hair and the proper way to style it, the right products to use and right way to make it curl; Elizabeth simply doesn't care. She's at the beach, enjoying her summer, and the last concern in her mind is to moisturize her hair or avoid salty water) and sometimes a cap on top of it all.

When they meet in this very fancy school, with noble kids as coleagues, it won't ring a bell that his childhood friend (who he missed as much as Elizabeth did btw, also spoilery) who told she came from a very tiny and unknown village in England, and lived in a cottage with her mother, could be the same pretty girl who took his breath away. They don't even share the same name as far as he can tell... :)

So, yeah, when she met Hamid she looked quite different, a bit shorter, different hair colour...

And we have to consider that it's been four years, they've met in a different context (and Country) and Hamid never learned she was the daughter of the Earl of Edgewater (oh, that's a spoiler)... and things have changed for her.

Sorry, this reply to your comment became almost as long as the fic!

But I'm truly happy you enjoyed. This fic has been forever in my drafts, and I just felt this need to finish it in a very self-indulgent way, but I'm glad you're also enjoying it, my friend! Thank you so much for reading, and letting me know what you thought and for reblogging it!

(PS.: Loved the Mariah gifs!)

Title: Once Upon a Summer - Part 1

Book: Desire & Decorum AU

Pairing: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth Foredale (OC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~2k

Summary: Once upon a summertime, eleven-year-old Elizabeth befriended a boy at a beach. Returning to England in a rush, she didn't even say goodbye to her friend Hamid, and had little hope to ever see him again. What would happen if fate brought them together four years later? This is how their story goes...

A/N: No warnings. Just fluff and teenage shenanigans. To make the story make sense, it's settled in the early 2000's, before social media, the era flip phones were it, the epitome of modernity and style! There will be alterning POV from Hamid to Elizabeth, and so on. Enjoy part 1 of this very silly and self-indulgent fic!

September, 2005. 

Every new year was the same, for an entire week the school was vibrant and full of life. The whole days dedicated to recitals, art expositions and workshops, plays and drama reading, and so much more to welcome old and new students to the building that would basically be their second home from September to July.  

This afternoon, the school’s sport court was brimming with new students and seniors of all ages, sporting their impeccable uniforms and polished black shoes. The last rays of summer shining on hair and skins and in the happy memories of vacations that are the main topics of conversations these past days. In the imminence of the beginning of the exhibition match, the basketball court was all noisy chatter and excitement, with lines of players in jerseys, echoes of the bouncing balls on the polished wooden floor, squeaking sneakers and swishing of balls down the rims.  

Like in the savannah, it was easy to spot the new arrivals, with their awed and terrified looks, like lion cubs, and those who were comfortable in their natural environment. More than any other student, the players were naturals. The kings of this court, one could say, and the ones who attracted most of the attention, especially the ones starting their senior year.  

Sporting his jersey with unmatching pride and the widest grin, Year 11-student Hamid, one of the most enthusiastic amongst his teammates for being chosen to play for the main team. Surrounded by a group of female students willing to hear about his latest travels and maybe even catch the attention of one of the team stars, he couldn’t be more thrilled. Or so he thought... 

This was the best time of the year: no classes nor tests, no mandatory readings nor assignments, and a lot of time to do what he loves the most: socialize! Hamid loved this week with his whole heart and wished it could last longer. However, if everything must come to an end, the best way is to end on a high note, isn’t it? And in Hamid’s humble opinion, the last day is always the best. Not only it was entirely dedicated to sports, which was one of his passions and gave him the chance to demonstrate his aptitude in a variety of activities, but afterwards there will be a ball with music, dance, and girls eager for the attention of the athletes.  

Amusing some of his teammates and a group of girls, Hamid was in the middle of telling a story, when someone knocked over a heavy object near the entrance. Hamid’s eyes flicked to where the noise came from and to the influx of another group of students coming inside to fill the stands, amongst them a very beautiful girl he’s never seen in school and instantly caught his eye.  

Turquoise backpack hanging on one shoulder, she moved slowly, long curly hair bouncing around her face. A chocolate brown hair peppered with gold that seemed like the sun itself had kissed it, or maybe had just been following her for the dramatic purpose of stealing teenage boy’s breaths away. Whatever it was, her beauty was so enthralling he couldn’t look away, appreciating the long hair that reached the middle of her back,��shapely lips shining with lip gloss and bright eyes. If this was one of the rom-coms his sisters love, the sound of chatter and basketballs dribbling would’ve been muted, and a bubbly pop song would play in the background while the girl glided in slow motion; when the camera focused on him to do a closeup, he’d be looking dazzled, mouth slightly parted while trying to catch his breath – which he was, having completely lost the train of thought mid-word. Nevertheless, no camera could ever capture the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. 

“So, what happened then?” Theresa Sutton’s question ringed after what seemed like a dramatic pause in the narrative but turned into a play’s intermission. “Did his father notice you two were gone?”  

Stunned, Hamid blinked a few times and telling the rest of the story seemed less relevant now that he had a new goal. Offering a wide grin, he clapped his hands, “Well, this will have to wait. Now I have someplace else to go. And a record to beat!” 

“That’s cruel, Hamid,” Donna Bowman protested with a pout, but it didn’t deter him.  

Bending, he picked up the ball at his feet, never tearing his gaze from the beautiful girl, and sprinted towards Yusuf Konevi, his dearest and oldest friend at England, who was doing warm-ups with some of their teammates. She was glancing everywhere from the benches at the side of the court to the stands, possibly searching for someone, and not once looked his way. Thank goodness, he was confident enough to not let this hurt his pride, and persistent enough to change that game. 

Throwing an arm over Yusuf’s shoulder, he threw himself at him in a playful way.  

“Hey!” 

“Glad to see our star is finally joining us!” 

“We’re all stars here,” Hamid said, flashing a grin, “we shine brighter together.” 

The other laughed. “Smooth. I bet they’ll make you team captain soon.”  

Looking over his shoulder Hamid located his target, standing alone by the stands, and asked in a conspiratorial tone, “Who’s that girl? I haven’t seen her before...”  

“Which one?” the other asked before discreetly peeking at the direction he tilted his head.  

“The one who looks like an angel recently fallen from heaven…” 

Yusuf gasped with laughter. How very Hamid of him to be throwing around corny lines about girls right before a game, instead of warming up. Glancing at his friend before taking another look, he surveyed the faces and there was only one amongst them Hamid possibly didn’t know and fit his type, which he assumes is beautiful long-haired girl in any height, weight, body type, or ethnicity. 

“Do you mean Elizabeth Foredale? The one with the turquoise backpack? She was transferred.” 

Hamid smiled and repeated her name slowly, savouring every letter like honey in his tongue. 

“Foredale…” he repeated her last name once more and hummed. “Why does this name sound familiar?” 

“She’s the daughter of the Earl of Edgewater. You certainly heard about them.” 

He definitely did. The House of Edgewater is one of the oldest and most traditional amongst the British nobility, close in relationship with the Royal Family, and everything in this county is somehow related to them. And he is almost certain the Earl was one of the stuffy British men with whom his father had meetings to negotiate some sort of treaty when he was ambassador at England. 

“Is she single?” 

Yusuf clapped his shoulder and grinned, “I have a feeling you’ll soon find out.” 

Thinking about the best way to catch her attention, Hamid bounced the ball once, then twice, and smiled. Dribbling, he darted to the middle of the court, standing right at Elizabeth’s line of sight. Making flourished moves with the ball before dribbling towards the three-point line, he stepped back, flexed his knees, and shot. Without touching the backboard or the rim, the ball swished smoothly, and his face split into an ear-to-ear grin at the cheers. When he looked at the stands, the girl had her eyes fixed on her mobile oblivious to his demonstration. But this wasn’t nearly enough to discourage him.   

Someone clapped him on the back, congratulating him, and from his place by the benches, the coach waved him and the others to assemble. 

When the game begins, I’ll get her attention for sure, he hypes himself on his way to join his fellow teammates.  

And this is his best match so far, scoring and assisting in almost all the key plays. The coach is pleased to see him this motivated, and he is pleased that Elizabeth’s eyes followed him. Not the plays. Not the ball. Him.  

During halftime, he takes off his jersey, exhibiting his lean muscles and warm tanned brown skin from days sunbathing at beaches at the Türk Rivierası, and swigs a bottle of water. One of his classmates throws him a towel, and he thanks him. 

At the stands beside the team’s bench, giggles and whispers erupt, but when his gaze searches for Elizabeth, like it did so many times this afternoon, the girl is sitting by herself reading a book. A large one. He can’t read the name in the cover, but how much more interesting than the game and players can it be? He was very close to take that snub personally.   

At the other team’s bench, Yusuf throws him an amused look and teases him. Hamid shrugs and doesn’t let it affect his good spirits.   

When the match is over, her eyes are not on the book, but on him. Pleased by the attention, he rakes his sweaty hair back and flashes his best smile in her direction. Like others at the stands, she’s clapping. In an instant, he’s surrounded by teammates and classmates congratulating the team, cheering and chanting they’ll beat their rival this year for sure.

While he’s approached by Donna Bowman and her friends, he gets a glimpse of Elizabeth walking down the stairs and going straight to the exit. By the doors, she halts, sparing a lingering last glance at the court over her shoulder, one he desperately wishes to be directed to him. 

The best he could do was play it cool, wait until later, and maybe meet her at the dance. Or even cooler, waiting until classes start next week. But that look has him sprinting out of the basketball court with a silly excuse to not immediately hit the showers.

His sneakers squeak while he runs down the hallways, deflecting students and congratulations.  

Down a long corridor, he gets a glimpse of her outside. When he catches up, she’s sitting at a bench, book opened on her lap.  

Breathless, he halts a few feet away from her, fixes his sweaty dishevelled hair with a hand, takes a deep breath and a glance at the book from over her shoulder.  

The panting catches her attention, and she glances at him over her shoulder, meeting his gaze. There’s no hint of surprise in her eyes as if she expected him to come. 

“Interesting reading?” 

She bites her lower lip, and nods.  

“Very much.” 

Placing a cat-shaped bookmark between the pages, she smiles and closes the book. 

Hamid takes both as good signs, and peeks at the cover. “Lord of the Rings. Is it any good?” 

“You already asked me that,” she giggled. 

“Cut me some slack, with all the running, my brain is lacking oxygen…” he laughs, and she tries to stifle a chuckle but her laughter escapes in huffs through her nose. Hamid’s heartbeats quicken at the sight of her smile and the visible blush on her cheeks, the bronzed skin has a lovely pinkish hue, and, in this light, he notices her green eyes have gold flecks. 

Pointing at the empty space beside her, she suggests, “Why don’t you sit down before the team loses his star player, Hamid?” 

His smile turned into an ear-to-ear grin when he flopped beside her.  

“So, you were paying attention! I knew the book couldn’t be more interesting than the match!”  

“Hardly. It was a mere exhibition. And I prefer football, anyway. But you played well…”  

“Well?” He faked being wounded by her words. “I was on fire today!” 

“Oh! That would explain all the shouting from your fans... are you well?” 

Snorting with laughter, he gnaws at his lower lip, amused by the quip. 

“Unwounded. Except for my ego,” he replied, and grinned. “I’m on the football team too, and we’ll have a match in two weeks. You should come and watch me play.” 

Chuckling, she shook her head slowly, and looked away at students crossing the gardens towards nearby buildings. She was smiling to herself, and her fingers fidgeted with the bookmark. That shyness pleases him in an unexpected way.  

Trying to meet her gaze, he extended his hand for a shake, “Where are my manners? Welcome to Moorfield School. I’m Hamid Osmanoğlu. Year 11. Basketball and football team. Last year’s class president. Delighted to meet you –” His hand lingered in the space between them, waiting for her to take it and say her name.  

Instead of the expected handshake, her eyes darted to his face, and she gaped. There was too much confusion in her expression that he joked, “Haven’t you done this before? Because that’s when you say your name... Saying something about yourself is optional, but always appreciated.” 

“You don’t remember me,” she stated a little bit offended, and it surprised him. 

“Have we met before? Because I certainly wouldn’t forget a gorgeous face like yours...” 

Shoving the book inside the backpack, she got up. “I’ll let you figure that out then.”

“Will I see you again?”

“We go to the same school...” she replied without turning around. 

While she walked away, Hamid observed. He was even more intrigued by Elizabeth now.  

[silver-hwaberry]

ONE: new beginnings

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.7K

My eyes look around the bedroom. The size of it impressed me. It was slightly bigger than my old studio apartment, but compared to the rest of the rooms in this apartment, it was the smallest. Or so I had been told, anyway. Other than the lounge area and entrance, I had seen nothing else.

The tall man who had picked me up from my old apartment had briefly introduced himself as Sunghoon, one of the managers. When we arrived at the new apartment, he took me straight to the room that would be my bedroom, telling me to make myself at home and ‘the others’ will be home soon before rushing back out the front door. I was left alone after that.

The room is nice enough. Decor is rather plain, very plain in fact - white walls, white bedding with a pale pink throw blanket at the bottom, light hardwood flooring with a beige rug, empty desk in the corner with a basic stool and a silver table lamp. There was a built-in wardrobe, chest of drawers, and bedside cabinet. It had the basics, which is all you really need, I guess, but it had zero personality. I can smell the faint smell of paint, which meant it had recently been decorated. I wondered what colour it had been before. As I sit down on the double bed I groan lightly, the past 48 hours had been crazy!

So my name is Luna, birth name is Younha but as a child I always pronounced it as Luna and the nickname sort of stuck. I was born in New York, in the back of my dads car by the side of the road to be exact! My parents said I was eager to arrive, and it was a fitting start to my life ahead as I always jumped head first without thinking. My current situation was a testament to that!

My dad was in the army, so we moved a lot. I had lived in many countries, got to experience a lot of different cultures and I had a rather unique childhood. I had always had a love for learning new things, exploring new places, so I adapted well every time we moved. I was 15 years old when my parents settled in London and my twin sisters Hyejin and Soojin arrived soon afterwards. When I was 18 years old and graduated from school, I decided to move to Seoul to continue my studies here. 

Both my parents are Korean but neither of them were born or had even lived there. We would visit during holidays and it was vital to my parents that we were fluent in Korean too. I always loved when we visited so, for me it made sense to me to study here. My parents were incredibly supportive of my ambitions, and as hard as it was to move so far away from them, it was also the best decision I ever made. I excelled in my studies, made friends instantly and graduated top of my class. My dream job was always to teach languages and the fact I was fluent in many of them before I even began studying gave me an advantage, but after graduating, finding that dream job proved harder than I imagined. 

3 weeks ago…

I am sitting in an interview to be a language tutor and translator. Excited to have my first interview for a job I had wanted for years, a job I had studied hard for. I had graduated from college the year before and I had struggled to find a job in the field I wanted. To pay the bills, I was working as a receptionist in a hotel. Honestly, I hated it, but I was grateful for a steady wage.

A week before, one of my old college professors contacted me to say an entertainment company had approached her. They were looking for someone to teach English as well as translating. She asked if I wanted her to put my name forward. I nearly dropped my phone telling her that of course I did as she laughed and replied she was glad because she already had. Within 24 hours, I had a call from the company itself asking me to come in for an interview.

I had no idea what the company was. I had been told in the interest of privacy they could not reveal the company until after the interview process. All I knew was this was a full-time job, working with a group. They didn’t say if it was a boy group or a girl group, nor how many members there were, but it would provide accommodation and they would except me to travel as well. It was exactly what I wanted.

I was confident in my language skills and translating. That isn’t me being big-headed or thinking highly of myself. It is just facts, but I had little tutoring experience. Only tutoring a couple of high school students and most of them had a zero interest in learning English so it felt like a waste of my time and honestly, really soul destroying for myself. I couldn’t understand how people didn’t have an interest in learning other languages. I just hoped the lack of tutoring wouldn’t affect my chances for this job.

“So Miss Lee, we can see from your CV you are fluent in multiple languages. How did you have time to study so many?” The older woman asks me

“My family moved a lot for my father’s job. Every country we lived in, I would learn the language.” I reply.

“So, every language you know, you have lived in that country?” The younger man asks as I nod.

“So you’ve lived in France, Spain, Italy and Norway?” the woman asks

“Yes. Germany too, but we weren’t there long.” I reply.

“Where did you learn english?”

“English is actually my first language, I was born in America.” I say

“Wow, and you are Korean too?” the man asks, looking down at the CV

“Yes. My parents are both Korean, neither of them lived here, but they were taught Korean and English. They did the same with myself, and my little sisters are learning Korean too.” I answer, “My parents and sisters live in the UK now.”

“You are certainly very well travelled.” The woman smiles

“It is rare someone of your age is so well educated. Your education records are very impressive. Your college professors spoke very highly of you as well.” the man says, looking over at the woman who nods back at him

“Miss Lee, from the moment we all read your CV we knew you were our top candidate for the position we have. We had to meet with others and of course with yourself, but from what you have told us today there is no doubt in my mind that you are perfect for the job.” the woman smiles at me.

Holy shit! I got the job! I got the fucking job! Inside my head is screaming, my heart is racing, but on the outside I am cool and calm. Like a duck in a pond.

“We understand you will need time to consider your options before you can give us an answer, but…” the man says

“I’ll take it.” I say quickly, making him chuckle, “Sorry.” I add, bowing for interrupting him.

“If you are 100% sure, then we can sign the confidentiality forms the now. Once you have done that, we can give you the full details of who you will be working with.” he says. “And then we can get your official contract signed as well.”

After an hour of going over a million forms, signing what felt like thousands bits of paper to the point where I felt like my signature didn’t even look familiar to me anymore I was told I was going to another room to meet ‘the band’. I still had no idea who it was and only hoped that I would know them. I would be beyond mortified if I walked in and didn’t know who I was working with.

As we arrived at the door, the man who had interviewed me smiled at me.

“The guys have been told you’ve been hired. You were their top pick from candidates as well.” He says

“Oh, wow.” I say, instantly feeling more nervous.

“We wanted them to be involved in this process. Have a voice in the decision. I think you were everyones pick.” he chuckles

Ok, no pressure then(!) He knocks on the door and then a muffled ‘come in’ comes from the other side. As the door opens, I nervously look in and feel relief when I instantly recognise them. They are all lounging around the room, on chairs and sofas. Most of them are on their phones or talking to one another.

“Guys.” Hongjoong says, quickly standing up as we walk in

The rest of them stop what they are doing and look in my direction, instantly stand up too and say hello. I am in slight disbelief that I am standing in front of Ateez right now, but I bow and say hello back. I can have my freak out later on. For now, professional mode needs to be activated!

“This is Miss Lee.” the man says, “Your new English tutor and official translator.”

This causes a whole introduction from everyone. I listen politely, bowing to each one despite already knowing exactly who they all are. As they finish, the man’s phone rings and he apologises before scuttling back out the door to answer it. I turn to face them all once more, butterflies in my stomach as we are all alone now.

“Please sit down Miss Lee.” Seonghwa says gesturing to one of the armchairs.

“Thank you.” I reply, smiling briefly at him.

The room is silent as everyone sits down again; they are all looking at me. 8 pairs of eyes on me is pretty damn intimidating. I appear to have lost my ability to make conversation too. Part of me was not really sure how to act around them. Other than professional, of course.

“It is nice to finally meet you Miss Lee.” Hongjoong says

“Oh please, call me Luna!” I say without thinking first

Shit, that was a bit too casual, and this is technically a work environment, even if I am not officially a member of staff yet.

“Luna?” Yunho asks, his eyes lighting up. “Like Luna Lovegood?”

“Yes!!” I giggle excitedly

My love for all things Harry Potter was well known to the people who knew me. Luna was one of my favourite characters. It was pure coincidence that we shared the same name. I loved how quirky she was and was not afraid to be herself.

“Well, my birth name is Younha, but I always pronounced it as Luna and the name stuck.” I say.

“So would you prefer us to call you Luna or Younha?” Hongjoong asks

“Oh Luna. If someone said Younha, I probably wouldn’t even realise they were talking to me.” I laugh lightly.

I need to rein myself in a bit. I am talking far too casual for the situation. As I am about to apologise, San suddenly speaks.

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee or a tea? Food?” he asks.

“Oh no, thank you. I am fine.” I smile politely.

Another silence descends. I see that Jongho, Mingi and Yeosang are barely looking at me, San keeps glancing towards Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yunho are smiling friendly at me and Wooyoung… Well Wooyoung is hard to read, his face is rather blank but his eye contact with me is intense. I clear my throat quietly and look at the floor.

“Sorry, it must be intimidating meeting all 8 of us in one go.” Hongjoong says, “We really wanted to meet you.”

“You are a lot younger than we were expecting.” Yeosang says quietly.

“The profiles the company gave us on candidates did not have ages on them.” Seonghwa explains. He must have seen my confused face.

“Oh, I am sorry. You must want someone, erm older. More experienced.” I say, “I can go if you want.” I add, standing up.

“No!” they suddenly say, making me jump slightly at their loud voices

I say ‘they’ but I don’t think it was all of them, but it was definitely over half of them. All of them are looking at me now, at least.

“I apologise. We can be a little loud at times.” Seonghwa says as I sit back down. I notice he looks at the others with firm eyes. Eyes that are silently communicating with them before they all apologised too. “And no, your age is not an issue. It is just rather surprising.”

“I think I speak for most of us when I say that with your profile, experience and skills we were expecting someone…” Hongjoong says searching for the word

“Old!” Wooyoung laughs, making me giggle quietly at his bluntness.

“Can you really speak all those languages?” Mingi asks

Wow, his voice is really deep in person! I nod in reply, not sure how to answer it.

“That is really impressive!” Yunho chuckles

“How?” San asks with a massive smile on his face

“Which language is your favourite?” Mingi asks

“How old are you?” Wooyoung asks

“Guys, let’s not bombard her with questions! I am sure Miss Lee… Luna has had a long day.” Hongjoong says. “We will all have plenty of time to ask her questions and get to know her as we begin to work together.”

“But…” Wooyoung whines

“Woo.” Seonghwa says firmly, causing him to quieten instantly

There was something rather hot about the way Seonghwa quietened Wooyoung so quickly. Just at that moment, the man from the interview comes back in and says that the guys transport has arrived. This causes them all to stand up and pack up their things. I stand up too, placing myself in a corner so I wasn’t getting in their way.

“So what do you guys think of Miss Lee?” he asks, looking between the guys and myself. 

“I think we will get along well.” Hongjoong replies, smiling at me.

Here I am, 3 weeks later. I’ve been officially working with them for 2 weeks. The first week was mainly about getting to know them, and them getting to know me as well. The second week was when the work began. I focused on getting to find out how each member learned so I knew the best approach to teach them. For learning, everyone learns differently. A technique that would work for one person doesn’t necessarily work for someone else.

I felt like I was beginning to understand each of them. Some were quieter than others. Therefore, harder to get to know, Jongho and Yeosang being toughest nuts to crack, but Yeosang was relaxing a bit more around me while Jongho was still very formal and incredibly reserved. I don’t think we have spoken over 20 words to one another yet. So I was at a loss over how to begin teaching him so decided that in the following weeks when the learning would properly begin I would try out techniques and see which one fit him.

There were a lot of hushed conversations in corners whenever I was around and lots of glances in my direction, however. It was to be expected. They are a close-knit band, and I was a new person. Someone they didn’t know or trust yet. That doesn’t mean it didn’t make me feel a bit on the paranoid side though, I wasn’t sure if they liked me. Sure, they were polite enough and respectful towards me, but other than that, they were like a closed book.

Then, 48 hours ago, Hongjoong and Seonghwa asked to have a meeting with me. Honestly, I was scared I was about to be told it wasn’t working, that they didn’t want someone as young as me teaching them, and that I was being let go from the company.

However, the conversation with the 2 eldest members could not have gone differently and that closed book on the band was opened a bit, and a proposition was presented to me. And it goes without saying that I accepted it because here I am now. My own bedroom… in Ateezs shared apartment. As their live-in girlfriend and/or companion? I wasn’t too sure about the full details yet, but personal/romantic relationships with each of the members were the gist of the situation.

How the fuck did this even happen? One thing I knew for sure was things were about to get interesting.

[bitchinbarzal]

“Character A and Character B broke up, but now they meet at a Christmas party.” With roope hintz please 🤍

When Esa had invited you to his Christmas party you declined.

He insisted, claiming that Clara just wouldn’t be happy if you didn’t come.

“Esa, no I can’t-“

“You can! You absolutely can! You are saying no”

You told him you would think about it but you didn’t have time to think before Clara had text you saying she was so happy you’d decided to come.

Clara had been most heartbroken when you and Roope split up. It was hard moving to a new country, trying to learn a new language and fitting in with the other wags.

When you began dating Roope you’d taken it upon yourself to learn Finnish which you used to speak to Clara, Esa, Miro and Joel too. They all felt a little bit more relaxed around you.

She spent the following weeks glaring and throwing around Finnish swears at him.

When the day came around for the party you were late. On purpose. You didn’t want to be a focus, you wanted to slip in and be unnoticed see the Lindell’s and go.

That idea was launched out of the window when you arrived and Tyler yelled across the room “She hath arrived!”

You laughed “Segs, how much eggnog have you drank?”

His eyes went wide “Can sober me not be excited to see you?! But… just a little bit”

You shimmied out of his hug and found your way to the couch where Esa and Clara were sat. Her eyes light up when she sees you.

“You came!”

“Of course, Hauskaa joulua!” merry christmas

She beamed “oh I miss you so much, come see Astrid she’s getting so big you’re missing it all!”

Esa handed off the baby to you, the little girl had you wrapped around her finger. Not quite wanting to let go.

Parents were grateful, Clara and Esa used that as an excuse to go mingle. You happily walked around with the baby saying hello to people.

Subconsciously, you looked for him

He wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Maybe he was with a new girl? On a date? He didn’t want to come because he knew you would be there?

That thought was slowly disrupted when Astrid began crying.

You knew where her bottle was so instead of finding Clara you did it yourself.

The kitchen was empty, just you and Astrid. The room was silent bar her little sucking sounds.

You were swaying her, in an attempt to get her to sleep. Spinning around and around abruptly stopping when someone in the door cleared their throat.

“Jesus! You scared me!”

He chuckled “Nice dance moves”

“Don’t sneak up on someone holding a baby!”

“I didn’t sneak up on you, you weren’t paying attention” you rolled your eyes at that one.

It was then it settled in that you were in the same room, he was standing in front of you.

“How have you been?”

You sighed “Roope we don’t have to-“

“I just wanted to know how you’ve been, Miro said you hadn’t been going for your weekly coffee lately”

“Yeah well I don’t need to learn Finnish anymore, I mean I only did it for you”

You hadn’t meant to snap, it just came out.

“Kulta…”

You put your hand up to stop him “No, please don’t-“

“Please just let me explain myself”

“I don’t want to hear it Roo, the time is gone please just leave it”

You walked past him but he caught your elbow, your eyes rising to meet his “Kulta.. please”

His voice was broken, he was broken.

You reluctantly nodded “Okay, speak”

He let out a deep breath “I was scared, okay? And I know that’s silly but you were learning Finnish, you were doing things for the team, my family? It was a lot and I was scared! I loved you, I still love you! I was nervous I couldn’t give you what you deserve-“

“Don’t you think I was the one to make that decision?! That I had a say in our life?”

He nodded, meekly “you should have, I was wrong and I know now I made the wrong decision I regret it! I’ve waited so long for the time I see you again”

Your breath caught in your throat “Roo..”

“Please, please Kulta tell me you still love me too. That I didn’t screw it all up” his hand reached up to your cheek, thumb brushing away a tear rolling down your cheek.

“I still love you and I shouldn’t but I do. Fuck, Roope I can’t do this all again you broke my heart”

“And i will never ever make that mistake again”

Your lip quirked in a smile, he leaned down and kissed you quick.

“Minä rakastan sinua” i love You

“Say it again” you mumbled, having missed the words.

“Minä rakastan sinua”

You smiled, happy tears now rushing down your cheeks.

The happy moment was ruined when Clara announced “It’s a Christmas miracle!”

Most of the team was stood watching what had just happened, you blushed in embarrassment.

Roope shrugged while Esa took his daughter from your arms “Let me just take this little cock block back”

You laughed “I think a thank you actually goes to Astrid, this was all her”

Roope smiled, leaning over to his god-daughter “kiitos pikku pupu” thank you little bunny

The rest of the night you weren’t found far from Roope. His hands always had to be on you.

“I just got you back, I’m not letting go anytime soon”

[beigehearts]

Multiple requests are fine! Requests are unlimited. 

This is a cool idea so hell yeah

Yandere Adult Trio finding you after a few years after escape CW: physical abuse, mentions of kidnapping, blood, needles

Hisoka

This is rather nice actually. A quiet life in the middle of nowhere where no one questions you. It’s somewhat of a farming community you live in. You work at a farmers market, selling fresh fruits and vegetables to the same people every day. Everyone here recognizes you under your fake identity, and treats you as part of the community. As if you didn’t randomly appear one day. As if you aren’t in hiding. 

It’s been about three years you would say. Three years since you escaped... him. You dyed your hair, wore colored contacts and completely changed your clothing look. You moved countries, learned a new language, and completely dropped your entire identity and life. It was the only way you could escape him. How you escaped him remains a mystery to you too. He was always attentive but- you escaped that last time. Slipped through his fingers. 

Mr. Grady, the oldest farmer in town hobbles over to your stand and smiles with his big loose mouth. He only has a few teeth but you don’t need many when you blend all of your food anyway.

“Oh hello Charlie. How are you today?” He asks with his frail old man voice.

You smile back and begin bagging up the usual for him. “Very good Mr. Grady. How are you?” 

Your conversations are never short but it’s almost become a highlight of your day to hear the old man ramble. “Oh you know. The sheep dog are sick, so I tried rounding those cows up with my cat. He practically got trampled!” He throws his arms up as if it’s unbelievable. You somewhat listen as he continues. “... moral of the story is, cats are unreliable and only have two lives.” 

As you hand the paper bag over the counter the old man stops to think for a moment. “I saw someone new up by the shops today, he was a real character. Quite tall too.” 

You nod and get the change for the money he hands you, “Oh really? Did you talk to him?”

“He wasn’t much interested in me. Though he didn’t seem like a normal traveler. He was much too eccentric for that.” He offers one last toothless smile, “Don’t work too late. It’s time for the foxbears to come out of hibernation soon.” 

Before you can further question him, he hobbles off pretty quickly for an old man. Of course you’re overreacting but someone eccentric and tall randomly coming to town? No it couldn’t be. It’s been over three years since then. And he wouldn’t go this far for you would he? 

After closing up the shop you grab the keys to your car and head for the ‘parking lot’. It’s a field with white lines spray painted on the grass with a single light to illuminate the whole place. You hop into your car and are just glad to finally go home after a long day. It was rather slow but that’s because it was a tuesday. It is very busy on friday-monday. You start your car, and turn on the air, you plug your phone in and relax some into your seat.

You adjust your rear view mirror and scream when you do. You just barely catch the reflection of someone in the back of your car. He’s sitting in the back seat watching you closely. You decide against turning around to face him.

“Hello y/n. Or is it Charlie?” He asks calmly, as if it were a casual conversation.

You clear your throat and try to control your shaking. “What are you doing here Hisoka?” 

He ignores your question completely. “You really know how to choose a nice town. Quiet, friendly, off the grid.”

“I suppose.” Your hands grip on the steering wheel tightens. “How did you find me?”

“Oh, well, it was quite hard really. You did a good job. But once I found the first person who helped you change your identity, it was just a matter of going down the chain.”

You’d rather not think about what happened to those people. “And what are you doing here?” You repeat your question.

“Well there’s only one thing I’m here for of course.” He leans back in the seat, just barely having enough room for his legs. “I’ve come to bring you home.” 

“I don’t want to. It’s nice here.” You state as if you have an option. 

He leans forward this time, and cranes his head around the drivers seat to whisper in your ear, “It’s really not up to you pet.”

Before you can even react, there’s a rope around your neck, and he’s pulling you hard against your seat. You claw at the rope and gasp for air. You try to turn some but the rope burn hurts too much. You manage to get your fingers under the rope around your neck, and throw yourself forward.

His head smacks the back of your seat but your head smacks the wheel, honking the horn. There’s no doubt that you’re bleeding. You throw the rope over your head and jump out of the car, and run. But he’s much faster.

He jumps out of the car and before you know it, he grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you to him. He holds you against himself with his arms, leaving no room for escape. But you have one more trick up your sleeve. You throw your head back as hard you can and headbutt his face. There’s a loud crack that you can only assume is his nose. 

He groans and his nails dig into your skin through your clothes. “You really got feisty while I was away.” His nails begin to pierce your skin, ripping through the cloth of your shirt. “But it’s no matter, it only turns me on more.”

Illumi

To say you’re on the run is an understatement. You’re practically sprinting away even all these years later. You know that if you stop for even a few days that he would find you. You spend no more than three days at a time in the same place. You’ve travelled half of the world by now- and quite honestly it has been somewhat nice. Not just the freedom from the suffocating grasp of your captor Illumi, but being able to see the world. You would never have done this if not for the situation you were in. Maybe things happen for a reason.

It feels like forever since you’ve been travelling. But the reality is that it’s only been two years. Two long years of not stopping. You have a new name and often go days without eating. It’s not easy getting money when you aren’t in the same area for long. 

It was late night when you escaped from him. He never let his guard down so you just had to go for it. He wasn’t expecting you to make a mad dash out of the manor, and hide out in the woods for a few days. Slowly but surely you managed to get out of the mountain prison, leaving through the small door next to the office. The man working at the entrance was sipping tea and reading the newspaper when you left much too busy to pay attention to you. You’re more than sure he was punished for missing you leaving. But sometimes you wonder if he chose to ignore you on purpose, and let you escape. 

It’s a beautiful morning. You slept on a few blankets and a sweatshirt as a pillow on the ground of a cave. It was hard to get any sleep at first but you managed to get used to the back pain. The sun is shining through the canopy, streams of light illuminating the cave. The grass outside of the cave is wet with dew droplets. It’s only slightly humid but the breeze with the warm weather is heavenly. It’s not every day you get good weather like this. 

You sit up and stretch your arms in the air, yawning tiredly. Your usual morning routine was to get a fire started, and put the tiny kettle above it. In your small backpack you have a few essential items. Coffee being one of them. You get out your tin can after jimmying a fire and filling the kettle with water from a nearby stream. You drop some instant coffee grounds in the kettle and bask in the aroma of coffee. 

You pour yourself a cup and put some powdered milk packets and splenda in the cup, stirring it with a stick that looked relatively... clean. But you had a feeling that today was the day. You weren’t sure why this morning you knew he would find you. But you did. Almost on cue, you hear footsteps approach behind you.

You bring the tin cup to your lips, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. 

“So this is where you’ve been.” You don’t even flinch at his words. You knew this was inevitable. 

The coffee burns your tongue. “Yes, I must have stayed here for a day too long. Don’t you agree Illumi?”

“Yes. It was quite stupid.” There’s a silence between the two of you. You continue sitting on the ground with your back facing him. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks as if he’s picking you up from and elementary sleep over. 

“May I finish my coffee first?” 

“I suppose.” Though he doesn’t move from his spot, his gaze staying firm on your back.

Luckily you haven’t spent all this time just running, but training. In self defense to be specific.

Quickly you jump up and turn around, you move your arm to throw the coffee on him in hopes of burning him. He grabs your wrist, but the coffee does land on his forearm. You bring your leg up to kick him in the side but he grabs it right as you make contact. The only hit you actually manage to land is when you throw a punch with your free hand at his throat. If it were anyone else they would be stunned for at least a few seconds. But this wasn’t anyone. He shows no sign of flinching. 

“Are you ready now?” He asks.

You allow your body to relax and he lets go of your limbs. “Go ahead, put a needle in me.”

He doesn’t argue with your point, pressing a needle to your chest and the last thing you hear is “Don’t fight it.”

Chrollo

The very thought that all of these people by his side had no qualms about you being kidnapped makes you sick. All of them had many chances to set you free and yet they stayed loyal to your captor, as if this were normal and okay. So many people witnessing this unhealthy obsession and not even muttering a word about it. Honestly you find it more ridiculous than you do sad. How did he have all these people under his thumb? Was he really just that powerful? 

Wherever he went, you went. One day he had what they called, ‘a mission.” You had caught a cargo train out west and jumped on, as stowaways. It’s not as if anyone checked each boxcar. All of you had fallen asleep in the small space of the boxcar. The train was at full speed, with no sign of stopping anytime soon. Cargo trains were much faster than you anticipated. Once you were sure everyone was asleep, you stood up casually as if you were just stretching. In case someone woke up. Which they did. Nobunaga peeled his eyes open and examined you. But he was too slow, you leaped out of the car before anyone could grab you. You went tumbling through a field after hitting your head very hard against the ground. It wasn’t the perfect escape but it was an escape.

After that you found a nearby farm, and while it was still night you stole a horse from a barn. You rode for many miles, until days later you found a very busy city. Somehow you managed to make a life for yourself, becoming a low grade secretary. 

Today was a slow day, your employer did not have many clients today. You checked in on your boss to see if she needed anything but she waved you away. You decided to play solitaire on the computer, a perfectly valid way to waste time. 

The phone rings and you pick it up while still keeping one hand on the mouse to play solitaire. 

“Hello this is the Seedling Lawyer’s Office. How may I help you?” You stick the phone between your ear and shoulder, playing solitaire. 

There’s a chuckle from the other side of the phone. “So it is you.”

Your blood runs cold, and the only thing that your head is telling you is ‘run’. “I’m not sure who this is, could you please state your name and purpose for calling?” Playing dumb seems like the only decision right now. 

“My darling, there’s no need for the semantics. I’m coming to pick you up right now.” Perfectly on cue, the sliding doors of the building open and you drop the phone, standing up abruptly. 

His eyes show affection and kindness, but there’s a glimmer of... rage. You look around but no one is in the waiting room and you know the cameras are fake for security. This is a cheap layer’s business after all. 

“There’s no need for the semantics Chrollo.” You try to say mockingly but it comes out more as fearful and unsure.

His smile drops and he begins walking towards your desk. “Do you understand the consequences of your actions y/n?” He scoffs kicks the heavy desk to the side as if it weighed nothing. “I missed you of course.” 

“Ah well, maybe I needed a break.” It comes out as a question. 

He corners you against the wall and places a rough hand on your cheek. “Oh darling, oh my sweet darling.” His smile reappears, as sweet as it always has been. “I’m going to kill your entire family.” His hand grips the side of your face roughly and he tilts your head back. 

“You really are something. I would never hurt you, you know.” He places a gentle kiss against your cheek despite his tight grip on the side of your head. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences for what you’ve done.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat and grab his wrist. “Well you’re hurting me right now.” 

Immediately he drops his hand and sighs. “I would never hurt you intentionally, or if not necessary.” He grabs your throat, holding it so tightly you wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk again. He’s crushing your air ways and vocal cords. You claw at his wrist but its useless. “Disciplining you does not count as hurting you.” He leans forward, and if you could yelp you would.

He bites your cheek, definitely leaving a mark. After drawing blood, he licks it up. Your vision is going dark but you’re simply not strong enough to fight back. “Do you understand darling?”

[raineydays411]

Trauma does really bond

Umbrella academy x teen!reader

Summary: You were number eight, The Healer. With the power to heal anything you touch. Or at least you would be, if the world knew about you.

A/n: I know I said new fics on Friday but I couldn’t wait lol

Everybody knows the story of the Umbrella Academy. Seven children, adopted by an eccentric billionaire, forced to become superheros and eventually fizzled out of the limelight.  

But know one knows about you. 

You were the eighth child Reginald Hargreeves adopted. You were Y/n Hargreeves, age 17. Everyone knows that the seven siblings were all born at the same time, and day. So how are you 17?

Well basically the same thing, but when your mother spontaneously gave birth to you, she handed you over to Reginald within a heartbeat and as far as he knows, you were the only spontaneous birth on y/bd. So he took you in. Now he wasn’t completely sire that you would get powers. For all he knew, your mother just didn’t want you. But all that changed when you were just 6 years old. 

You had stumbled upon a mouse that was squirming in a mouse trap while exploring the attic. You felt so bad for the poor thing that you had set it free. You cradled it in your hands, as you teared up at the sight of it twitching when suddenly you felt it. It was like magic, you felt each bone and nerve that was broken heal until the mouse was once again moving, full of life. You ran out the attic, mouse in hand. Running all the way to your fathers office, barging in despite his protests.

“Y/n Hargreeves, how many times must I tell you--” “ I’m sorry father, but look!” you cut him off, thrusting the healed mouse towards him.

“Number eight. You interrupted my studies to show me vermin?” 

“No father! I healed him! He was in the mouse trap and I healed him!” You exclaim. That caught Reginalds attention. 

“You healed it?” He asks eyeing the mouse, “ How?”

“I dunno” you shrug, “ I just felt bad and touched him”

Reginald hums, standing from his desk and walks over to you. 

“Come with me.” He says, leading you out the study with a hand on your back. 

From then on he put you through brutal training. Nicking you with knives I see if you could heal yourself, bringing you hurt animals to heal, injured people. Then it escalated. He brought in people who were on the brink of death, comatose. He forced you to heal them, despite it taking all your energy. There were multiple times where you ended up collapsing, sobbing and exhausted from healing too many people in one day. He forced you to get up, and heal some more claiming,

“You have been given a gift. It would be selfish of you to hoard it just because you get a little tired”

Not to mention the brutal physical training. Because you had no siblings, he made training robots. They, unlike humans, did not hold back. Forcing you to fight as if you were actually trying to survive. And if you lost, you weren’t able to heal yourself.

Now all this training would have made some sense if you were going out into the world and saving lives. You weren’t. Reginald didn’t allow it. You were to stay on the premises, 24/7, 365 days a year. He claimed

“The world is cruel Number Eight. You are not yet ready to face the harshness that is reality. It is best to keep you here until you are.”

So alone you were. Well not totally alone, you did have Grace an Pogo. And you had Luther but all he did was missions and avoid you so he didn’t really count. But Grace and Pogo? They were your best friends. Grace was practically your mother. She sang to you, brushed your hair, tucked you in, told you about your “siblings”, and taught you how to bake and cook as well as other things. She like you, wasn’t allowed to leave, so you felt like she understood you. Pogo, taught you everything you know. He helped you learn seven languages, he sat and was forced to listen to you learn the piano, violin, and guitar, he was the one who snuck you Vanyas book and answered any questions that Grace couldn’t. And he was the one who sat with you in the attic as you both looked out at a city that didn’t know you existed.

You secretly longed for the day you were able to leave. If not training or doing school work, you could be found gazing out the attic window, or outside in the courtyard staring up at the sky. Despite being in a huge mansion, you felt trapped. You have read almost every book in the house, including Luthers research that he sent from the moon, Fives old theories, and Allison’s diary. You started meditating, yoga, and even picking up little hobbies like scrapbooking or candles making. You learned different ways to play chess, ballroom dancing ( your father insisted), how to read music, and so many other things. You were so smart and yet so naive. You, theoretically knew the cruel realities of the world, having read them in books and such. But you never experienced them. You had no human contact other than your father (and Luther till he was sent to the moon). You knew battlefield medic techniques but not simple everyday things. Hell, not even your so called siblings knew that you existed except Luther and he was sworn to secrecy. Not like he payed attention to you anyway. You weren’t even allowed to watch movies or listen to modern music. Just whatever records Luther had, and the Walkman you found up in the attic. But secretly, at night when you crept into the attic, you can see into the apartment across from you. Their large tv playing movies and you were able to watch. Playing classics like Dirty Dancing and Grease, action, and scary movies that scarred you for life. But it was your escape. You couldn’t hear the words but you made them up. A little world all to yourself, your little secret. You yearned for that moment when you could leave. Leave behind strict schedules and brutal training. Leave behind empty halls and loneliness. But you knew it wasn’t coming soon.

Not over your fathers dead body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your father is dead.

You didn’t realize it at first, having been extremely exhausted for some reason. You went to bed early saying good night to everyone and promptly passing out. But you know that your father was fine. Healthy even, as you could sense it with your powers. So when you woke up and reached out, sensing your family as you always did, you knew something was wrong. You couldn’t feel your father. Not how you used to. It felt like...like the dead bodies he used to force you to heal.

You leapt out of bed and dashed to his room, heart racing as you passed a humming Grace. You burst into the room, seeing him collapsed against the bed, limp and eyes closed.

“Nononono father?! Father can you hear me?!” You say rushing to his side. You feel for a pulse but find nothing, noticing his cold skin. You start CPR, like he trained you to do.

“ Father?! Father please!” You start to cry, tears running down your face as you race to save him. But deep down you knew...you couldn’t heal a dead body.

“ MOM” you scream desperately, starting to use your powers, “ POGO”

You start to get light head, your basically pouring your energy into this dead body. Your powers kickstart the healing process, accelerating it 10 times it’s usual rate allowing for quick healing. But if the bodies dead...it can’t heal itself and you basically just heal superficial wounds but not bring them back. 

“Father...” you start to slur, you’re running out of energy and he still hasn’t woken up. “Father you have to wake up...don’t leave me...”

Your world starts spinning as you fight to stay awake. Desperate to save the man you consider as your father. But you collapse. The world fading in and out as you see two silhouettes hover over you.

“ oh y/n...” a voice softly says. You feel someone touch your head and you succumb to the darkness. Feeling helpless as you realize one thing.

Reginald Hargreeves is dead.

That night, around the country seven siblings find out that their father has died. And make plans to come home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were unconscious for the whole day.

You woke up letting yesterday’s events wash over you. You cry. Not for the man, cause let’s face it he’s an asshole, but because of what he represented. He was part of your family. Your world that only consisted of three.

And you couldn’t save him.

And let’s face it, he was your father. He kind of raised you for seventeen years. You had to care about him.

After calming down, you reach out. You try to feel for Pogo or Grace, but you can sense the presence of two people you’ve never met. So you force yourself out of bed, and creep down the hallway. Your room right closer to Reginalds as it was the only room left. So you snuck into the main room, seeing your mother staring into space.

“Momma?” You whisper, catching Graces attention.

“ Oh Y/n dear, you woke up.” Grace says with a smile standing and stroking your face, “ Darling, your in your night clothes, you know the rules.”

Your eyes water as you throw yourself in her arms. Feeling like a child.

“ I..I tried momma..I really did”

You feel her arms wrap around you, “ Do you want breakfast, you haven’t eaten in 12 hours and 15 minutes.”

You were confused. Why was she acting like nothing has happened?

“Momma I-“ “Mom?”

A male voice cuts you off. You freeze, not knowing who the voice belongs to. His presence unfamiliar.

“Diego, welcome home are you hungry?” Grace says, “I was just going to make breakfast for Y/n” she squeezed you gently before letting you go to turn to Diego.

You hide behind her, like a child. Peaking over her shoulder to get a glimpse at the man. He was average height, Hispanic most likely, wearing all black with a harness and some knives. He had short hair and a scar on the side of his face. He looked at you then Grace in disbelief or shock. You can feel that he was healthy, just a bit sore.

“Um mom who’s that?” He asks gesturing to you.

“Oh I suppose you haven’t met yet. Diego, this is..well why don’t you introduce yourself.” She says to you. Your eyes widen and shake your head.

“Come on dear, just like we practiced. Go on.” Grace nudges you in front of her. Setting a comforting hand on your back.

“ hello...my names y/n Hargreeves. It’s lovely to meet you.” You say softly, and then you give a shy smile.

“Hargreeves?” Diego asks, shocked, “ I don’t understand...how?”

“ Y/n is just like you and your siblings.” Pogo chimes in, startling the three of you.

“ She came to us 17 years ago, just as the six of you left. Your father kept her secret as he did many things.  She has remarkable abilities just as you and your siblings. ”

Diego looks at you, sizing you up and taking you in. “Why didn’t we know about this?” He asks Pogo.

“ Your father had his reasons. He believed she wasn’t ready to see the outside world. She has been here her whole life.”

Diego scoffs, “ What? It wasn’t enough that he ruin our lives, he had to start again?”

He looks at you, “ Welcome to the family, kid.”

Then he walks off. You look at Grace and Pogo

“ Did..did I do something wrong?” You ask.

“ Oh no, Diego is just...on edge. You did great.” Grace says cupping your cheek.

“ I am glad that you are alright Y/n. It’s good to see you up and about.” Pogo says with a comforting smile.

“ thank you..” you say, “ there’s another person here..a woman.”

“Yes, well I think it is time you meet your sister. Come along.” Pogo says, leading you to the kitchen.

Oh boy...

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33661984/chapters/83654680

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker's crazy schemes.

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Word count: 2k

A/N:  So I wrote my first fic! Hopefully at least one person likes it! I just posted the first chapter today. The second one should follow somewhat soon ☺️I’m currently writing the third chapter!

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Y/N couldn’t quite believe it. She had been a fan of him for years. Asking for the latest news on the voyages of the Volkvolny and its captain every chance she got. They were legendary. When Kaz had told her a few days prior that Sturmhond was going to be with them for a job she had barely been able to contain her excitement. Now, she was mortified. How could she work with a king?

Had she not been standing next to Kaz during the meeting she’d never have believed it.

“How long have you known, Kaz? I mean, I know you’ve worked with him before but…” her voice trailed off in a question.

“I figured it out when we first met.” His mind traveled back to that day. Meeting the privateer by the Geldrenner hotel’s baths, just a few years ago. They had been trying to save Kuwei Yul-Bo, a Shu inferni who’d had the misfortune of being the son of the fabrikator who created Jurda Parem, making him the most valuable hostage in the world. They had auctioned him off, faked his death, and gotten revenge on Jan Van Eck all at the same time. “The king of Ravka wouldn’t just let anyone represent his country in important matters. The fact that he always travels with at least one member of the Triumvirate doesn’t help him keep his identity secret either.” He scoffed. “He really should stop doing that.” Kaz sounded almost… annoyed?

“I take it you’ve given him that particular piece of advice and he didn’t listen?” She smirked. “Though, you know, I’m glad Zoya Nazyalenski tagged along. She is even more gorgeous than I thought.”

“He never listens. Almost as stubborn as you.” He huffed. The glare he gave her would’ve been enough to scare most people, however, she was not most people. She considered Kaz family, and she knew that Kaz did too, in his own way. They had both lost siblings to the city after all. She had joined his crew a few months after they had lost Matthias and Nina had gone back to Ravka. He had needed a new corporalnik and she had made fast friends with Inej, Jesper, and Wylan. As much as Kaz had tried to keep the young tailor at arm’s length, she had found a way to worm herself into his cold guarded heart. His look softened before he continued. “You should steer clear of her. She’s just as icy as she appears. Wouldn’t want you to get your heart broken before the job.” That was his way of showing he cared.

“Don’t worry, Kaz, I’m not looking to marry her. Maybe she’d be open to a bit of fun?” She laughed, throwing her long auburn hair over her shoulder, and made her way back to Jesper and Wylan down the corridor.

---

A few days had passed since they’d met with Sturmhond. He and Zoya had temporarily moved into the slat. Kaz had been cooped up in his office, wearing his scheming face most of that time. Everyone could tell Kaz’s plan was going to involve multiple steps and deceptions.

Since they hadn’t been working any other jobs, the crows had been left to their own devices for the first time in months. Kaz occasionally called on them for their expertise, but they had a lot more downtime than they were used to. They had taken advantage of it to get to know their new teammates. Y/N had mostly struck out with Zoya, though she had managed to make her laugh a few times, to everyone’s surprise. Maybe with more time, she’d have a small chance with Zoya? The young grisha had also tried to wrap her head around the identity of her favourite privateer. She now found herself sitting in Kaz’s office, Jesper and Wylan on her right and Sturmhond and Zoya on her left. Kaz looked all business, so serious she feared he’d give himself an aneurysm.

“I need you to tailor him. Once you’re done, you’ll tailor yourself.” Kaz nodded in Sturmhond’s direction sitting behind his cluttered desk, hands resting on his crow’s head cane.

Y/N looked up at Inej who had been sitting at Kaz’s window. “May I ask why? Hasn’t he already been tailored?” She gestured to the privateer before returning her hand to her lap. “He doesn’t look like the king of Ravka.”

Kaz rolled his eyes. “Why must you always question me?” He sighed. “Yes, he has been tailored, nonetheless, he is too easily recognizable as Sturmhond. I need you both to look like rich Kaelish merchants. It shouldn’t be too hard for you?”

“Of course not. You know there’s nothing I can’t do, Brekker.” She replied in Kaelish. She softened her tone before continuing in Kerch. “I’m simply asking you to share your brilliant scheme with us mere mortals” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. Inej stifled a laugh. It looked like the Suli girl couldn’t help but smile at the other’s antics.

Kaz groaned. “Fine, I’ll share my plan for the job. It’d be easier if you just listened. I’ll explain it once so pay attention – Jesper!” Poor Jesper jumped on his chair. He’d been staring at Sturmhond since they’d all entered the office. Y/N couldn’t blame him. The privateer did have an inexplicable charm despite his tailored features.

“Yes, Boss!” Jesper straightened in his chair and sent an apologetic look to Wylan.

“Alright, to pull this one off we’ll need blueprints that can only be found in Gert Van Verent’s safe. He keeps his office under lock and key – ”

“Wait, you want us to break into a councilman’s house, again? Why can’t you do it Kaz? You’re the best at picking locks.”

“Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me” he was glaring daggers at her now, his eyes the hue of bitter coffee “you’d know that two guards are posted outside his office, at all times” he’d emphasized the last part and raised a hand to stop Y/N from interrupting him again “and his windows are protected behind steel bars.” Y/N nodded once slowly indicating she was willing to listen with no more interruptions.

“Van Verent is throwing a party in the hopes of finding his eldest daughter a husband. Being a devout Kerch merchant, he is also using the occasion to find new business ventures. The party is our window of opportunity. That-” he gestured to her and Sturmhond “is where you two come in. Ainsley and Eoin Ó Ceallaigh, newlyweds from the Wandering Isle, looking to extend your exporting business to Kerch. I already secured your invitation” Y/N felt her jaw drop. No sound came out. All she could do was stare at Kaz. He had finally lost it. He wanted her and the king of Ravka to assume false identities and pretend to be married? Dirtyhands had gone mad.

Wylan was the one who voiced her concern. “Kaz? I know Y/N’s a talented tailor and well she is Kaelish so that part’s covered but, well, um, no disrespect Sturm-, Sir? Your Highness? But, um, do you speak Kaelish?”

The king smiled. He looked amused at Wylan’s confusion. He replied in perfect unaccented Kaelish “Call me Nikolai, it will make for less confusing conversation. Of course, I speak Kaelish, I have been educated in 6 languages. I also had a fondness for Kaelish poetry in my youth.”

Everyone seemed to relax at that. However, Y/N could tell she was going to need Jesper’s help to undo the knots in her shoulders later that night. “Kaz? I don’t think I’m that great of an actress… You also haven’t told us how we’re supposed to get the plans if we do get in.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure we’ll manage. I’m talented enough for the both of us” Nikolai winked at her. Nikolai, who just so happened to be the privateer she had admired for years. She felt her cheeks flush. Saints, she thought, this is going to be a nightmare.

“Jesper and Wylan have also been invited to the party thanks to Wylan’s new position on the merchant’s council.” She had never been more grateful to Kaz for overlooking the interruptions. “They’ll cause a distraction, with Nazyalenski’s help, to let you and Nikolai slip past the guards and break into Van Verent’s office.” He stopped and looked at Y/N. “I know you can pick the lock and crack the safe. I trained you myself after all.”

The discussions and planning continued well into the night. Y/N wasn’t convinced it was such a good plan, but everyone else seemed on board so she kept her mouth shut. All she could do now was make sure to memorize all she could before the job. The party was two days away, which didn’t give them much time to learn all they could about their characters. Kaz had instructed Nikolai and Y/N to spend every waking moment working together to make sure they made a believable couple.

Twelve hours in, Y/N was cursing herself for saying she wasn’t a great actress. If she’d only pretended to be confident in her acting abilities, she might have been allowed to take a break from the insufferable king. Well, insufferable might have been a little dramatic but the man loved himself way too much. They had memorized their stories in the first 8 hours and were now being quizzed by Wylan and Jesper while she started tailoring them both, yet the King would not stop flirting with her. He also made sure to touch her every chance he got. A brush of his fingers on her cheek, of his knuckles on hers, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. She knew it was just harmless fun for him. It was driving her completely mad. She just wanted him to take the job seriously.

“How did he propose?” Wylan asked for the third time in the past two hours.

Y/N sighed and moved her fingers through Nikolai’s hair to darken it. “It was incredibly romantic. He had planned a picnic by the lake where we met.” Her cheeks were already starting to hurt from the plastered smile on her face.

“I had all of her favourite foods, of course” Nikolai interjected, moving to softly caress the girl’s cheek.

Y/N had to restrain herself from slapping his hand away. “Yes, even strawberries, in winter! Can you believe it? Once the sun began to set, he dropped to one knee and pulled the ring from the picnic basket with a bouquet of winter roses. I’m so lucky to have fallen in love with such an attentive and caring man.” She turned to Kaz who had been observing them, leaning against the doorframe, and dropped the smile from her lips. “Was that satisfactory, Boss?”

Kaz shrugged. “It’d be better if you didn’t look like you wanted to stab him every time he touches you.”

Y/N released a breath. “Maybe if you’d let me take a break...” her tone was pleading.

Kaz smiled at that. He was finally wearing her down. Giving her a taste of what she’d put him through the last two years felt like sweet justice to him. He liked the girl well enough, but she had a way of getting on his nerves. He took no pity on her. “You’ll keep going until I actually believe you are in love with him.” He left the room with a pointed look at her.

Zoya released an amused laugh. “I’m just glad Nikolai found someone else to bother for a change.” She smiled smugly at Y/N. “Don’t worry, he’s mostly harmless. Just come find me if he gets too handsy, I’ll put him in his place for you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe it. Zoya had definitely sent her a wink before following behind Kaz. Maybe all her flirting had paid off?

“Sweetheart, I’m hurt, you are taking more interest in my general than in your own handsome husband.” Nikolai’s tone was toeing the line between mock hurt and amused.

She turned back to the three men in front of her. “Jesper, please, just shoot me.”

[dreamwrites]

"𝑷𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒉!" — [𝑶𝒏𝒆-𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒕]

Summary: In which Loki goes to visit his girlfriend on Earth to take her on a romantic date in Asgard when unfortunate events take place.

Word Count: 1181

Warnings: none

Pairings: loki x female!reader

A/N: Sorry if there is more than one mistake, english is not my first language and I am still learning it. However, I hope you enjoy it and have a good time, thanks for reading! (:

“What now? I'm supposed to keep quiet because of this... what the fuck are you supposed to be, a piece of trash?” no hint of emotion came out of his voice, though his expressions spoke for him.

The whole group was in absolute silence watching carefully every move of that individual who they could not call "intruder" to their bad luck since they knew him. However, he cared nothing about how those people saw him, because the sadness he felt for the humans was so much, so much, that he could probably burst into tears... no, it was not something dignified for someone like him. The best he could do was throwing up, throwing up, and he wished with all honor to do it on that piece of trash, on any of them really, he didn't care, because it was only a simple thing of time for them to end up dead, it always happened, it always did. Damn them and poor them and their filthy pity.

“Excuse me? what did you call me?” another voice came with a slight shake of the head, quite tired by the presence of that selfish, hateful and perverse guy.

His eyes were inspecting him up and down and spitting venom, he didn't understand why they should keep putting up with his crap when his planet was safe and he could be there being and doing any and every bullshit he wanted. And shit, he could name each one with every part of his body and make an endless list of all the disasters caused, explain in detail, speak with a glance and say, without the need to move his lips, why everyone detested him, why, why, why, why, why and why, there are thousands and millions, all with their reasons.

“I'll show you what this trash can do.” he spoke with such severe seriousness that without realizing it and with his eyes immersed in that figure, he ignored that his arm had changed into a murder weapon, a weapon that carried more than a real but deadly space "junk". Courtesy of the Stark membership.

“Bucky, no!” the man in blue tights, better known as the pride of a country, hurried to exclaim. And all he got after that yell was the whole nothing because the winter soldier was much faster: Stark's weapon woke up with an orange glow, as bright as a sunrise, but as lethal as lightning and fire itself combined. The gun had been pointed straight at the body and with anger reaching out to him, the gun ended up smiling at the other's head, determined to make a new friendship. A very good one.

“In your dreams, little brain” a giant wings entered without warning through one of the nearby doors and with a strong kick, turned the shot away, which to everyone's relief, nothing went off. And as soon as that happened, the figure grabbed him by the neck from behind and squeezed him just a little, hoping by a damn miracle that the beast would come back to his senses, if he really had them since as believable as it was, that was the usual behavior of the piece of crap. Yes, the stupid guy had a point, but he was only talking on the side of anger. “If you don't control yourself and you make one wrong move I can break your neck and gosh, believe me I really want to do it!” he finished in a tired shout. Why hadn't he taken that blessing vacation?

The five year old twitched furiously under the hands of the winged man, who only gave him a disapproving look and was ready to squeeze that damned neck of his once again.

“Let go, let go, let go Falcon!” Barnes begged with constant blows on the other's arm as it was costing him his own lungs.

Sam's arms left him alone and ready to open his mouth in search of a scolding, he realized that nothing he had done so far had been a good thing. The dark-haired, friendly looking soldier jumped to his feet and fired at his target without further objection, targets in between, no birds to grab him when he was executing a good action for all humanity. However, his plan had been much worse than a failure: when his arm shot straight at his target, it disappeared seconds before the fire touched his flawless face and instead, the flames embraced the large windows that didn't take a second to explode with a strong roar, leaving more than one on the ground and a few others not far from sinking through the new hole that gave a beautiful view of New York City. Miraculously, though, small white blankets grabbed their hands clutching them to the safest objects away from the windows.

“My windows! my precious windows!” the familiar voice of the owner of the house, Tony Stark, caused the smoke to disperse in fear and the avengers to get up from the floor, a slow and more injured than others. Wanda and Steve were the first to get up.

"No, of course not..." replied an innocent child's voice with a slight giggle, expressing himself with the help of his arms dumbly. The boy had a small scratch on his face from the recent explosion and his hair seemed to have come alive in all directions. “I can be sure of that because...”

“Peter fell five times from there thinking he was going to be able to hold on. He was trying out the new suit and playing with his little fabrics, it was hilarious to see him fall so many floors with Happy. You know, a complete dummy.” his new colleague was the one who had taken the words out of his mouth and Parker scowled in his direction taking his mask out of his hands with a quick flick of his "weaves".

“It was ten times, not five!” Spiderman spoke, annoyed and in a raised volume that he had completely forgotten. And despite the situation in which they were in, the anger of the spider character caused more than one chuckle and reproachful looks from some of the Avengers.

“If I may speak, I feel very sorry for that sad spider that bit you, kid.” reappearing in the blink of an eye, in the same spot as before, Loki gave a sarcastic and ridiculous grin, which Peter covered with another of his spider webs along with his arms and legs, tempted now more than ever to alert Karen to activate his new costume skills. Spider-Man made a cute DIY craft for Stark's tower: a human flower pot.

The front door opened for the last time and what he observed in front of it made him frown and stifle a small scream. The Avengers noticed (Y/N)'s presence when she was close enough as they were still getting up from the floor and others were healing their wounds.

“Loki?”

“Hi, darling” he said the best he could behind those dirty nets that covered his mouth and protected a shy smile.

— 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

[bunchofstraydogs]

Dazai Osamu in a relationship

Just a lil warning before you proceed: dis a chonky one, kay?

○

Depending on why Dazai is in a relationship affects how he will act with his partner.

If Dazai is curious about them, enough to enter the relationship,

it will last at best a handful of months, at worst about 2 weeks. Enough to get to know them, test them out in terms of reaction, values, honesty and morality, and get bored of them. Thus leading to him braking up with the person or, if he predicts that the person would react badly and cause a scene, get them to break up with him. But even that is dubious because i doubt Dazai would make the relationship official. He would probably just act as if they're dating, leading the partner to believe they actually are without having to verbally confirm anything, and then as soon as he loses interest, pulls a now-you-see-me-now-you-don't and disappears with little to no notice. Hey, he never said they were dating, he calls everyone Belladona, the fault is that person's for being delusional. Yes, he is an asshole, what did you expect of Dazai?

But if Dazai is in love?? Unrecognizable.

I will make a separate headcanon(? whatever these are I'm writing) on what i think a person should be like to sweep Dazai of his feet, but now i want to concentrate on what he would be like in such a relationship.

Is it possible for Dazai to fall in love? Absolutely. He loved Odasaku and Ango, perhaps not romantically, but he's definitely capable of love. People like him- aware of the world's cruelty, dealing with demons and guilt, roaming the world for the sole reason that they haven't died yet, hoping to find something worthwhile they can feel the need to be selfish about and call theirs; don't fall in love, they crash desperately. It takes a lot for them to feel those emotions, but when they do, they can never really let them go.

He would try to act as he usually does in public and try approaching the subject of his trepidation and disarray in many different ways. Distancing himself and going as far to actively avoid them would just come back and bite him in his boney ass. To effectively avoid someone, you need to know their schedule, hobbies, interests, habits, etc. And having learned that would just constantly remind him of them, they'd never leave his mind. He'd look on the clock, see the time and know that they'll be in that specific class because he knows their whole curriculum and class schedule/ at the grocery because they're surly out of their favourite snack/ doing black laundry and yes, he knows unnecessary details about them as well. After that disastrous failure, he comes back running and commences new ways to handle that person. These beta testings are for him as much as they are for them. Just how much and what exactly does he feel for that person, what buttons can he push and which ones he doesn't want to.

When i say Dazai in love would be unrecognizable, i mean it. Not superficially, where everyone can see it, but where it matters.

After doing his best to rail in the unfamiliar feelings under control, going as far as using some of Mori's techniques, the realization of the situation he's found himself in hits him hard.

He comes back as if nothing happened.

The deadpan that person gives him and a "Are you done with your bullshit or do you need some more time to brood about issues you made with yourself?" He doesn't even blink, "Oh, my Belladona! Does that mean you've missed me? Were you worried about me as well??"

All of this was said in your typical, Dazai maniac style, the only difference is that he actually wants an answer. He wants to hear the confirmation, in whatever form it may come- he can read between the lines and body language, just give him something to work with. He's desperate.

While the public Dazai persona won't change, his inner musings and his approach to the love interest will.

Osamu will, sometimes sneakily, usually not so subtly, immerse himself into their daily life. Get them accustomed and used to his presence. What this will do is cause a sense of familiar coexistence, that of people living together; make the person unconsciously continue to include him in their activities; learn to depend on him (not in a unhealthy, yandere way, but if their car brakes down or they're feelinh unsafe, Dazai will be the first person they feel the urge to call) because Dazai can be reliable and he will be reliable for that special person. He will also be the first person they share good news with as well, because if someone is always there for and with you, it's only natural.

Make no mistakes, Dazai is transparent only when he wants to be.

The reasons he does this is because 1) he wants to gauge their reaction to his great interest in them, 2) mask his subtle advances which are the most important part of integrating himself into their life, 3) to get that person in the position where he needs them to be for him to move on to the next phase of his plan.

Now, i may have said plan, but that's a somewhat loose term since what he'll do next depends on their reaction. He definitely has a rough outline of the whole thing in his head, but he's also adaptable and ready to react accordingly to whatever they may throw his way.

[I will be using l/i or LI for "love interest" bc I'm tired of writing that person or whatever, okay? Good.]

Once his l/i made effort to go out of their way for him or commit any type of love language, basically:

act of service- pay for his bills, massage his shoulders, buy crab based food or alchohol he really likes for their own fridge so that he can have it when he's over (often) even if they don't like those things especially then

words of affirmation- thank you Dazai, how was your sleep?, please take better care of yourself i can't help you if you're not making an effort

physical touch- ruffle his hair, lean on him when tired, hold his hand or wrist because it's crowded and it would be a pain to search for you Dazai

gift giving- "I noticed you were running out of bandages", "I bought you food, figured your lost case would forget to eat", "saw this mackerel, reminded me of you^^" "BELLADONA, NO >:("

quality time- spending nights with him because he has insomnia, playing games at the arcade, drive around town run from the cops

He would be overwhelmed. In the best way possible. He'd feel overwhelmingly good and pleasant and warm and worried.

He didn't feel like this, ever.

Not even with Odasaku and Ango. They were probably his first friends, but that's the thing. They didn't make his heart race, they didn't throw him into panic attacks, they didn't overwhelm him, they didn't keep him up at night because he couldn't get them out of his head or completely monopolise his mind during the day.

He gets panic attacks.

A lot of them, actually. Usually he can fake being fine, but sometimes he hyperventilates and can't breathe and all that he can smell is the blood on his hands and his chest is as hollow as l/i's eyes. He knows what can happen. They can and will be used against him. Hell, it could even be an accident. He is vulnerable just because they exist and he can't do shit about it.

He could do his thing: pull some strings, have them move to another country and never speak to each other ever again. He has the power, but he lacks the strength. He could do it, but he doesn't want to. His thumb won't press the numbers, his voice died out, his mind went blank.

The wind blows and it carries their scent with it. The bells ring and it's their laughter that resonates within. His bandages ruffle and it's the warmth of their touch he feels. He's dying, but he's not just ready yet to leave. Hopefully, Odasaku will patiently keep a seat for him.

That was what gave him away, actually.

That's when Ranpo realised, with zero doubt, that Dazai Osamu is in love.

Dazai could be going on and on about suicide.

Enter l/i.

"I found an amazing tree yesterday with really sturdy branches. I wanted to test them out today, but i promised l/i I'd go to the new bakery with them today and who would they go with if i die?? Unacceptable!"

Ranpo: "A new bakery? I'll happily take your place."

"UNACCEPTABLE!!"

With every panic attack he feels stranded on an island in the sea of death.

He's exhausted. For the first time he finally wants to escape alive. Then they walk in and the storm in the sea moves to his heart. And into his stomach and his hands and his knees.

"I'm here for you, Osamu. Everything is going to be fine."

His insomnia goes by a different name now.

It still keeps him up at night and makes him restless.

But this time, when he fills his nth glass of whiskey for the night, when the TV is muted and the trafic quiet, when he can hear their breathing beside him in their shared bed, he raises the glass to hope for the halcyon days.

●

Fucking finally. You think you're exhausted, you waste of bandages?? I have a final today I'm going to fail and actually wrote about your musky ass. You try doing that with my brain.

Hope you guys like it and if you made it this far, here's a cup of ☕ or 🍵, whichever you prefer. I wrote him as i see and envision him. Hope it all makes sense. He's a complicated character, but he is still human and he is not immune to emotions.

Have a good one~☆

I will probably come up with more things for him, because i doubt i covered everything, but for now this shall do.