#I just used those birds as a reference to make the blond man

[espato]

Day 5: Least favorite character ✅

Not for the design or anything else, but the villains in villains' stories are usually the worst

[abbysdolly]

୨ ℛ𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℐ𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑡 ୧

˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Abigail, the best soldier in w.l.f has an encounter with a Seraphite girl, her enemy. She could attack, but she didn't, why? She didn't knew but soon after everything made sense, suddenly she was Romeo.

˗ˏˋ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mature content +18, MDNI, canon violence, mentions of blood, use of a knife as a weapon, reader is referred to "the girl", reader is a Scar, death of a canon character (not Abby), enemies to lovers kinda? Let me know if I should add another thing! ౨ৎ

˗ˏˋ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫´𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hiii! ♡ this is the longest fic I ever wrote hehe, hope you all like this little twist I made in the story! I wrote this after a big writers block so forgive me if it's not the best! Also it isn't proofread so there could be some errors because English is not my first language >.< If you like it please like, reblog and comment! xoxo ♡

"𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝛪 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝒉𝑒𝑛 𝛪 𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝒉𝑒𝑟, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝒉𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒. 𝑊𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑡𝒉 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑖𝑡 𝑟𝑖𝑔𝒉𝑡 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦..."

⊹   ᳝ ࣪ ♡ ࣪   ᳝ ⊹

Her voice echoed like the sweet melody of an early bird, her eyes pleaded for help or simply just for mercy.

A now forgotten white cotton blouse viciously adorned with crimson droplets of who knows how many people, thankfully all that blood wasn't hers.

It was almost mystical how the blonde found her; soft-looking face full of dirt, hair in a beautiful mess and tears falling like cascades from her mysterious eyes, sitting in the grass with wildflowers surrounding her. Similar to the numerous injured deers she rescued with her father, a misty memory she treasured jealousy.

"Please, help me" the injured girl begged. Looking into the blonde's eyes in a desperate attempt of human empathy, innocently hoping to find some relief in another human.

The blonde inspected the injured girl, cold blue eyes searching for any sign of lies and also weapons but there was none of that, the girl's sweet voice sounded with undeniable need and her trembling hands holding her twisted ankle showed clearly that she hadn't any weapons near her.

"Are you a Scar? Why are you here if your people are miles away?" The blonde girl barked. Adrenaline still rushed through her veins, her years of training showed in the way her strong hands holded her rifle against her front, always ready to attack.

"Seraphite. And yes I am... Was, I ran away. I can't be with them anymore." The injured girl shivered as she explained to the blonde. Tears washing the dirt off of her cheeks and neck, making the blonde stare for a little too long.

"I'm not bit or armed, I just need help with my ankle. I ran almost all day and I accidentally twisted it a few hours ago. I can't stand on foot and I need to go somewhere safer" the injured girl spoke again. Her eyes drifted to the blonde's arms, to her rifle and to her piercing eyes. She wondered if her prayers were answered, and if they did she was certainly seeing her savior angel in front of her, with long golden hair and deep blue eyes like the sky at night, full of mystery.

The blonde stared and stared, her exterior looked angry and tough but in her mind she was having a whole battle. The thought of helping that girl was fighting with her "duty" that was imposed by a man who wanted just to massacre and murder people for a territory that in reality wasn't of someone in the first place.

"Please, soldier" the injured girl begged again. The blonde girl blinked as soon as she heard that soft voice again, her thoughts temporarily subsided by those teary eyes staring at her.

The blonde didn't respond, instead she just put her rifle on her shoulder and kneeled gently next to the injured girl. This was so new to her, she was the best and most deadly soldier in the QZ, she never showed mercy before. Why did she suddenly have the need to help someone? Especially one of the people she considerate the lowest of all. The blonde didn't knew but a small part of her felt powerful for doing that, she felt capable of doing more than chaos and death.

The blonde girl took a few bandages of her washed out green backpack and began to roll the thin white material around the ankle of the injured girl. She did it as gently as possible, it was almost sweet due to her big and tough appearance.

"What's your name?" The injured girl asked in a gentle whisper. She watched how carefully the blonde was and also how the blonde's features were hardened but strangely sweet and angelic, a beautiful mixture of deadly beauty and danger.

The blonde stopped her actions, surprised by the sudden curiosity of the mysterious girl. She turned her attention now to those beautiful doe eyes that magically weren't pooled with tears anymore.

"Abby" the blonde whispered back, soft and warm voice filled the cold air. She watched intently how her eyes told her many things.

"Thank you, Abby" A gentle smile appeared on the other girl's slightly chapped lips. The blonde's face mimiqued the action with a slight blush on her nose and cheeks, accentuating her freckles. Abby felt so lost, she felt that she hadn't control of her body. Those strange feelings were more than new to the blonde, she felt so different like she wasn't her anymore.

The moment went as fast as it came, in the form of hurried whistles and crushing leaves. The remaint group of Scars in that place were persistent, and they searched for the girl who was a traitor, an apostate.

"Fuck, we need to get out of this place, we're too exposed" Abby whispered hurriedly, taking her backpack and weapons with rush. She looked down at the girl on the floor, poorly trying to stand up but it was no case. Her muscles were too sore to even try to stand up.

"We can go there, that way there are some hidden cabins that the elder used as ceremony places, they're abandoned we can hide there" the mysterious girl explained. Abby wanted to think this was a lie, that it could be some sort of ambush but the other part of her brain said that she needed to believe her again.

Without a warning, the blonde lifted the girl from the ground so easily. The mysterious girl gasped at the sudden action but didn't complain, she just limited herself to cross her arms behind the blonde's broad shoulders. The air filled with tension and a certain awkwardness from both parts. Surely Abby had helped some other soldiers in patrols, even helped them to get rid of their clothes to treat their wounds but this time she didn't feel the same, she suddenly was hyper aware of her moves and how skin collided with skin.

୨ 🔨 ୧

After what it felt like an eternity, Abby and the other girl were now inside one of those ceremony cabins. Thanks to Abby the windows and door were barricaded with different wooden furniture. The abandonment evident in the rotten flowers near some sort of paint of a woman with a divine halo; The Prophet.

"They haven't come here since I can remember, it's too far from our campsite so they won't find us here" the mysterious girl explained. Her figure resting on a chair near a table as Abby stood in front of her, backpack and guns still on as she crossed her muscled arms.

Abby wasn't really proud of this situation, she always accomplished her missions, she did what she was told and not more. She got used to it after almost seven years of doing the same routine. At least that kept all those negative thoughts and anxiety on border.

The blonde's eyes didn't leaved the girl at any moment, her soldier brain told her to kill her, to get back at base and recover that sense of had "cleaned" everything, but the truth was that she felt curious about the girl, she wanted to know why she suddenly deserted. There was something about that girl that caught Abby's attention bladly.

"Why did you leave your people?" Abby asked. Her voice was husky enough to cause the other girl to squirm nervously in the chair.

"I was one of the many people taking care of the elders and children. I knew our people prepared soldiers but they only said it was just to defend our people from the Demons, until I found a letter saying we were in a war with some group of people and we needed to kill them all... even children and women, innocent people. So I ran away just in time when those people arrived to the Island" the mysterious girl explained. Her face and especially her eyes showed a deep sadness and a deeper disgust.

The explanation caught Abby out of guard, how could a Scar not know the actual state of the growing tension between Wolves and Scars? How could someone be so stupid to not know? Certainly this was a situation that Abby didn't knew how to deal with.

"I thought all your people wanted to kill everyone who weren't into your fucking religious stuff" Abby scoffed. Half smile and voice tone sarcastic as ever, the comment came almost without thinking and as the girl's eyes grew watery again she knew she fucked up, her and her sarcastic humor always finding the worst timing to appear.

"We aren't like that, at least not all of us. They just twisted her texts, If she were here all those conflicts would have disappeared" the Scar girl whispered. Her gaze relied on the worn out mural painted into the wooden wall. The image of that woman smiling so sweetly and showing both her hands made Abby want to puke, she was tired of that same image and those same stupid prayers everybody recited after their last breath.

The blonde remain in silence, opting to just sit on another chair near the window to search for any sign of Scars, Infected or Wolves. She couldn't get involved with a Scar, no, because surely Isaac would kill her before hearing a reasonable explanation.

୨ 🔨 ୧

The gloomy and freezing night came and with it, a sharp muscle pai too. Abby was beyond tired, she left the base a week ago and since then she had no real breaks, just occasional naps in abandoned buildings with her patrol group. Speaking of them, they surely were searching for her and wondering how the hell she went through "another path" in the woods.

Abby layed on the floor, unfolding a small sleeping bag out of her backpack, ready to have some sleep and hopefully forget about the pain in her back and legs.

The mysterious girl did the same, laying on the floor with nothing to keep her warm. She was squirming on the floor, trying to hug herself to feel her own body heat. Abby and the girl haven't spoken since that conversation they had a few hours ago but Abby couldn't help looking at the girl and feel pity.

"Here... Use it to keep you warm" Abby spoke as she handed her black jacket to the girl.

The girl took it with caution at first but then she just didn't care anymore, she was freezing and she needed it. She put on the jacket, this last one almost swallowing her whole frame but at least she was getting warmer.

A Scar wearing a Wolf jacket, really ironic.

"Thank you, Abby. I'll give it back to you in the morning" the girl answered as she got back down to her previous position, ready to sleep and hopefully find some peace in the events she had been through these past hours.

୨ 🔨 ୧

The night passed by as fast as a shooting star, the distant chirp of birds and warm bits of sunlight were a gentle call to wake up.

The Seraphite's eyes opened slowly, a soft groan escaped through her lips. The aftermath of all that happened yesterday in the presence of sore muscles and low energy.

She sat up, the blonde's jacket hugging her body and dipping her in a spiral of scents; Pine, dirt and a slight touch of gunpowder. Speaking of the owner, she wasn't there, no sight of her belongings, no sight of her, just that forgotten item and the bandages resting on the girl's ankle.

Anxiety built deep inside the girl's chest, she was facing the consequences of her previous acts, she was alone. A part of her mind scolded herself for thinking that Wolf would've stayed with her, for thinking with so much innocence.

Her ankle was a lot better than the day before but she wasn't sure of what to do, she survived and that was beyond her expectations. Her hands shook as they clinged to the jacket, she watched out the window but there was nothing to see, she was gone.

୨ 🔨 ୧

Those eyes, those beautiful eyes. So deep almost she could see her reflection in them, so crystal clear. Two little windows to the shiny galaxies, reflecting in a deep beauty even the most lethal human being, Abigail.

And oh her voice as sweet as a juicy peach in summer season, sweeter than the purest maple syrup in the whole world, calming like the morning breeze. Maybe all of that caused Abby to feel guilt of leaving the girl there, or maybe all of that caused something deeper and complex inside her that Abby wasn't able to understand.

"What the fuck am I doing? Shit, Abby" the blonde muttered to herself as she walked to the cabin. The outside looked the same after four days, Abby knew the girl could not be there but she tried to console herself repeating that 'there was a chance'.

"Please be there, Please be there" again, the blonde muttered. She gently knocked the door, there was a tense silence and then the door opened slowly. It was her, the girl, she had a wooden stick in her hands, something to defend herself.

"Abby?" the girl whispered. She lowered the stick and kept looking at the blonde, her wide eyes full of hope. A new found spark in them.

"Hi" the blonde smiled sincerely and continued "Are you alright? I thought you wouldn't be here, staying here is too risky" Abby's voice was shaky, she felt like a sick dog wanting to jump to the girl's bones and drag her out of that rotten cabin.

"I was going to but I was too scared to leave the cabin by myself" the girl explained as she opened the door fully. "Why are you here, Abby?" she continued, resting the stick on the table. And there was Abby's jacket, doing the same thing it did four days ago, keeping the girl warm.

"I'm giving you a chance. You'll go with me" Abby answered. Her voice was firm, she wasn't asking, she was commanding.

"What? Where? Abby, if your people see me they're gonna kill me with no hesitation!" The girl's voice was filled with desperation and fear. A Scar in a Wolf territory? Unthinkable!

"I know, I know but listen to me. I know a place, you could be safe there. I just– I can't let you here all by yourself" Abby spoke. Her jaw clenched tight, searching for the best way to say it, looking into the other girl's eyes wanting to communicate just by it.

"Why?" the girl answered. Abby blinked as soon as she heard it. Why? Why was she doing all of this?

Abby couldn't speak or think straight, her eyes searched for an answer in the worn out image of The Prophet, in the rotten flowers, in her jacket resting in the table, in the eyes of that girl.

"Because– I don't know, to lighten the load I guess. I want to do something right for the first time in ages" the blonde confessed. Her mind was still in a constant dilemma but she was sure at least that she wanted to do something different, to take a different path just like she did when she found the girl.

The girl didn't respond but her eyes never left Abby's. The blonde could feel how her eyes could read her entirely, she swore those pretty eyes could disarm her in mere seconds. Oh those eyes.

୨ 🔨 ୧

"Stay behind me, be careful and watch for any sign of infected or people. You know how to fight?" The blonde whispered. Both of them were outside the cabin.

"Just the basics I think, but don't worry about me I'll help you if we cross with Demons" the girl whispered back. Her body was framed with Abby's jacket, shaky hands holding the wooden stick and doe eyes looking at Abby. She was clearly scared and Abby knew it.

୨ 🔨 ୧

The golden light was already gone, the sound of leaves crushing with every step grew louder as the night approached. The minimum noise made Abby hold her gun tighter and point to the place where the sound came from, she was more focused than she normally was, she felt fear for the first time in so long.

Everything was quiet, oddly quiet. It had passed at least two hours and according to Abby they were really close to 'that place' she kept talking about during the walk. Everything was quiet, oddly quiet, until it wasn't.

"We are just a few minutes away from it, We can– shit! Get down!" Abby whispered hurriedly. She and the girl used an abandoned car as cover, a group of Scars were patrolling near an area full of containers.

"Fuck, we have to pass through them, it's the only way" Abby spoke again. Her gun ready, taking glances at the group of Scars from time to time "Okay, this is what we're gonna do. We're going to sneak and kill those two guys on the left and there we can cover with those containers, as for the rest leave them to me, got it?" There was that commanding Abby again, and it was fascinating to the other girl.

The girl nodded, too focused on the whole change in the blonde's demeanor. Her voice deep and firm, her eyes darker and her features getting even more sharped if that was actually possible.

Abby sneaked behind some other cars getting nearer to that area, followed closely by the girl. The tension and fear were palpable, sweaty palms holding to dear life to a gun and to a wooden stick.

The blonde nodded to the girl and in a blink she got one of the men from behind, her bicep making pressure into the man's neck and in seconds he was gone, as if his neck was a mere toothpick, so easily.

The girl watched it all, she saw how Abby ended a life like a cold war machine. How Abby killed one of "her people" and she was going to do the same, she had to do the same.

Abby did all automatically, it was the same to her. Infected or not infected, she couldn't care less but the Seraphite girl wasn't like that.

"Use this to kill that guy, I'll kill the other ones. We got this" Abby whispered. Her big hand wrapped the girl's, giving her a knife she had found somewhere and as she did this her grip was tighter, encouraging the poor and terrified girl to kill.

Everything happened so fast, Abby was gone dealing with other Scars as the girl got closer to the man, her hands shook and tears threatened to come out. Then everything went downhill.

The girl tried to grab the man from behind just like Abby but it was obviously impossible to recreate what the blonde did. The girl sneaked her arms on the man's neck trying to stab him but the man threw her away as soon as he felt her, whistling hurriedly and walking to the girl, ready to attack her.

The sudden shock of what happened made the girl act by pure instinct, she crawled to reach the knife and when she did nothing was going to be the same. The man turned her around violently and as soon as he did the girl stabbed him in the neck.

She choked a moan of disgust and fear, blood dripping from her face as well as tears. The eyes of the man lost their shine, losing the life on them as well as his body. The girl froze instantly at the realization of what happened, of what she did, she swore she wouldn't be like those who called her family before, she swore she was going to be better than them and there she was, she took a life.

As soon as Abby noticed and heard the whistles she ran, searching for the girl. She found her there on the floor with a dead Scar on top of her.

"Hey, hey– Are you okay? Fuck" the blonde breathed as she throw the dead body to the side and helped the girl to be on her feet again.

Panic, fear and disgust filled the girl's eyes, she kept crying as Abby spoke again "Hey, look at me, look at me. We need to move now, we're close" Abby's hands tried to wipe the blood out of the girl's face, guilt covering her heart once again. She knew that wasn't easy at first.

୨ 🔨 ୧

"What are you thinking? You seem a bit off since this morning" the blonde asked. The book she was reading was now closed on the table.

"Oh sorry, I just– I was thinking of when we met and all the crazy things that happened after" the girl answered. A small smile appeared on her plush lips.

The time passed faster than the girls intended. After arriving at the aquarium the bond between Abby and the Scar girl grew and grew.

Abby explained to her how that place was discovered a long time ago from one of her good friends named Owen, who soon after she awkwardly confessed that he was her romantic interest when she was younger, but after his mysterious death she had claimed the aquarium as her personal place to recover when everything was too much. The blonde also showed some pictures of her other friends, from the W.L.F too. Abby and her soon found calm in each other, a friendship blossomed from all the disgrace, death and sadness.

But nothing was that easy. The Wolves were searching for Abby as soon as the rumors ran across the FOB halls, everyone talked about how Abby betrayed them just for a Scar. Abby had to constantly go out the aquarium and kill whatever thing threatened to disturb both her and the girl, it didnn't matter if they were infected or people from both groups, Scars and Wolves. It was a miracle that the only few people that knew about the aquarium wouldn't say anything because Abby was their friend.

“Yeah,” the blonde chuckled. “Everything happened so fast. When was that? Like five months ago?” She looked at the girl and smiled. That was something she did more, smile.

“Yeah, but in those few months I've learned more than all my years in this world” the girl answered between giggles. And she was true, Abby had taught her a few self-defense things, she taught her how to use a gun and how to fight if she needed to and the girl was beyond thankful for everything.

“Well, you've learned from the best fucking soldier in Seattle” the blonde answered back. A cocky smile appeared on her face as she crossed her arms and groaned when her back touched the old couch.

“Whatever you say, Anderson!” The girl rolled her eyes at the usual antics of the blonde. She walked close to Abby, sitting on the other side of the couch, “You're such a goober” the girl whispered, looking at the blonde with a deep admiration, and other things. A warm smile on her lips.

“Hey! That's my word!” Abby gasped fakely. Another gorgeous smile appeared on her lips. She turned to the side to see the girl properly, the side of her face resting on her strong bicep just as the girl did.

Both admired each other's features, silently bathing in each other's presence. Abby and the girl developed the habit of talking with their eyes, a short look and they already knew it all.

Abby knew that this “friendship” was more than that, she felt it. After a couple of weeks after being with the girl in the aquarium she knew that the feeling in her chest wasn't just a platonic feeling, it was beyond that. Especially at night when the awful memories came back in the form of chaotic nightmares, for both of them, but the warm embraces melted every nightmare and fear.

Abby caught herself thinking about the girl when she read a classic novel or sometimes she stared too much at the girl when she was brushing her hair or was cooking. Oh and it was even more evident when a blushed Abby directed the girl's body when they were training, it was all the time and she knew the girl felt the same way she did, her flushed cheeks and shy smiles when Abby praised her for doing something correctly, or when she wrapped her arms around the blonde's torso at night.

“Thank you, Abby” the girl whispered. Her hand reached Abby's, softly running circles on her palm and there was again that soft blush on the girl's cheeks, the exact same way when Abby found her.

“Why are you thanking me?” the blonde answered. Her brows furrowed with confusion.

“For everything you gave me and you still do. And because you didn't kill me that day” the voice of the girl broke like thin glass. Abby felt a lump in her throat, glossy eyes and mouth agape at the girl’s words.

“I– You don't need to thank me. I do this because I l– because I care for you!” The blonde stuttered with her own words. Her heart beated wildly inside her strong chest, she wanted to say more but she simply couldn't.

Abby wanted to scream all her feelings, to name whatever she was feeling. But for a reason it was so hard, even when she had that teenage romance with Owen she didn't feel like this, not even a little.

Sometimes at night Abby had to wake up and go to her little bookshelf to read something to distract her mind, she even roamed the aquarium wanting to do dumb things and distract herself from the pretty image of the girl sleeping so peacefully next to her. “Damn it Abby, why did you bring the brilliant idea of asking her to sleep on the same bed?” The blonde thought, every night.

“I know, Abigail,” the girl whispered back. The hand that was touching Abby's was now gently stroking Abby's cheek. Her soft skin kissing the blonde's face, her fleckles deep and a mauve color adorning her nose and cheeks. The way the girl said “Abigail” felt so intimate, just her father called her like that and that was at least ten years ago.

The girl didn't allow Abby to react or respond, she got off the couch and smiled. The girl walked to the little room they designated to cook.

୨ 🔨 ୧

Dinner went normal, and for normal we could say just Abby being a little awkward as the girl talked about different recipe books she had found.

“Can I show you something? I know you like when I read out loud and uhm– I remembered that I wanted to read you something” the blonde spoke. She and the girl were cleaning the dinner dishes.

“Oh I would love that, Abby. Please show me” the girl answered. Her voice filled with curiosity as her eyes lit up. Abby loved seeing her like that.

“Okay, leave this for tomorrow yeah? This is important” Abby's voice showed her nervousness and all the emotions she tried to swallow deep deep down. She took the hand of the girl and dragged her to the room they had to sleep, the girl laughed softly and almost ran in contrast to the long and fast steps Abby gave.

“Abby, you're going to make me fall!” the girl said between giggles “what's something so important that you are practically making me run?” the girl spoke again. A foolish smile appeared on her face.

“Just sit here and listen to it, please. It's important to me” the blonde answered back. Her voice and stern face made the girl's smile drop in a look of concern.

Abby's hands pushed the girl's shoulders down to make her sit on the neat bed, then she took a small storage box where she kept her favorite books, classics novels that belonged to her father and she could keep them thanks to Mel, one of her friends.

“I've read this book a couple of times. I always thought it was too dramatic or corny compared to how I saw life years ago. But now it makes sense, and it feels so amazingly strange, you know?” the blonde explained. A copy of Romeo & Juliet was in between her hands as she sat on a chair in front of the girl.

The girl didn't understood too much at the beginning, surely Abby was acting a little bit strange and that made her heart beat wildly inside her chest.

And as for Abby, she was so nervous and tried to stay focused on what her heart, mind and body wanted to say.

“So the other day reading it again I felt something warm on my chest, I felt like something clicked in my head. And I needed to tell you before it's too late, listen carefully please” the blonde finally looked at the girl. The dim light of the room made the situation more intimate, as if it was just them in the whole world.

“I will, Abby,” the girl answered. Her voice as sweet as ever.

The blonde smiled with shyness but opened the book in the page she had put a paper on to remember it. And then she proceeded to read out loud, soft and velvety voice adorned the background with a sweet melody of words.

“But soft, what light through the yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the Sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that you, her maid, are far more fair than she. Be not her maid since she is envious. Her vestal livery is but sick and green, and none but fools do wear it. Cast it off” the blonde read it with emotion filling her chest, her voice was sweet as her gloomy blue eyes danced across the letters, her grip tight and her cheeks warm and pink.

The girl listened to Abby, focused and instantly warped around her as Abby's voice seemed to put the girl in a trance, Abby's words echoed on the girl's brain and heart.

“It is my lady. Oh it is my love. Oh, that she knew she were, she speaks, yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it” she paused. Looking up to the girl to see if she felt that feeling coming up from her stomach to her chest and to finally her throat. And she smiled again when she saw how the girl's eyes glowed like the pretty moonlight, like the chaotic fire. And Abby knew the girl felt the same as her.

“I am too bold. ‘Tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, there in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the air region stream so bright that birds would sing and think it were day and not night. See how she leans her cheek upon her hand, oh that I were the glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek…” Abby read. Her cheeks got even more reddish and her gaze positioned on the girl's form, again. Nervousness eating her from the inside.

“Oh Abby,” the girl whispered. She got up from the bed and gave short little steps to be right in front of Abby, closer than before. The delicate hand of the girl took Abby's making her look up from her position in the chair, admiring the delicate and serenity in the girl's face, her dark eyes were capable of making the burning fire in the blonde's heart burn wildly.

The Seraphite girl smiled, oh that sweet smile that Abby adored a lot, and as she did so her arms instantly wrapped Abby in a tight embrace. The blonde's face rested in the girl's chest hearing the melody inside it, her fears no longer important, her feelings clearer, her heart raced with happiness and everything because of her. Her own Juliet.

“It makes sense now because I feel like Romeo, I understand him! I envy the sunlight that caresses your skin, I envy the moonlight who can make your eyes shine like stars, I–” the blonde paused her rambling. She stood up, taking in between her large hands the girl's face, and continued, “I love you” she whispered. Her face inches apart from the girl's, baby hairs framed her beautiful face as her nose gently caressed the girl's.

“I know, Abby. I always knew it because I feel just the same, you were my savior angel, and I will always be thankful for that. I love you, I love you, I love you” the girl confessed. Her own hands caressing Abby's face, bathing in the deep ocean in the blonde's eyes, her dump kissing little scars on the blonde's cheek, scars of long forgotten fights, of forgotten sadness.

Abby leaned to kiss the girl. The most precious and sweet of the kisses, lips exploring the other ones with such passion and love. A first kiss that told more than all the romantic novels in Abby's bookshelf, calm after the storm, igniting fire building on their bodies.

Thank you for reading! Any like, reblog or comment are really appreciated, have a good day/night and don´t forget to drink water! love ya! ♡

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: "Do we have to get out of bed?"

Pairing: Rook hunt x GN!Reader/Prefect/Yuu

Genre: Fluff

TW: The characters are aged up, use of "mama" as a gender neutral term for a parent.

AN: It's time for the man, the myth, the legend himself: Rook! Ngl, this hunter gave me a ton of trouble with the fic. I'm still a bit unhappy with this, since I know it isn't one of my best works, but it is something. Happy birthday to everyone's favorite hunter <3 I hope you enjoy ^^ (PS: at one point, the reader is referred to as "mama". It is supposed to be read as a gender neutral term for a parent. If anyone who's fluent in French knows an actual gender neutral term for parent, please let me know ^^)

You opened your eyes to the chirping of birds outside your room, and the feeling of strong, warm arms around your middle. The warmth behind your body shifted slightly, pulling you closer and making you smile.

"Rook."

The blonde haired man hummed, letting you know that he was awake. Soft lips graced your neck with careful and slow kisses, a routine he performed daily as a sign of his love.

You turned in his hold, eyes softening as they met those of your husband. Rook smiled at you.

"Bonjour, mon amour," he hummed, leaning slightly to place yet another kiss, this time at your lips. Pulling away, he continued speaking in that slightly raspy tone that he always got in the morning, "Did you sleep well?"

You nodded, absentmindedly running your fingers over the slight stubble on his face. Rook let you do as you pleased, his eyes not straying a moment away from yours.

The sliver of sunlight coming in through the gap between the curtains framed the soft domestic scene that was your reality. You knew there were things to do, responsibilities of real life that would have you be separated from the arms of your beloved husband soon enough (a crime, truly). But these precious few moments, ones Rook insisted on experiencing every morning, gave you all the energy you would need to complete your daily tasks and come back to your husband's loving embrace each night.

After a few minutes of just staring at each other in content silence, you asked, "What are your plans for today?" Rook sighed, closing his eyes and burrowing in your hair. "I'm taking the twins to visit maman et papa. They've been asking to see them lately."

"Have you told them that they will be here for Christmas?"

"I did, but they were insistent," Rook hummed, fingers making lazy circles on your hip. "Will you be joining us, my dear?"

"I would love to, but there's some things I must get done today. And if you're taking the kids out of the house then I can buy their gifts and hide them."

"Ah."

"Give my regards to mom and dad, hm?"

"Of course mon amour."

You smiled, then made a move to get up.

Rook's hold on you tightened, and he pulled you right back where you started, body flush against him. Laughter left you shaking in his arms slightly. "Rook, we need to get up."

"Must we? Surely a few more minutes with me would not hurt~"

Before you could reply that yes, you two did need to leave the bed, a knock sounded on the door before it was opened, and in ran your two children, the apples of your eyes.

The boy immediately jumped onto your bed, shaking an amused Rook, "Papa! Papa wake up! We gotta go!" The blonde man let out a chuckle, letting go of you to take your son in his arms and tickle him. Peals of laughter left both son and father as they engaged in some play-fighting, Rook making sure not to be too rough with his child.

Your daughter, on the other hand, calmly stood near your side of the bed, looking at you with a sleepy smile. The calmer counterpart to her excitable brother, she gently tapped your arm with her palm. "Morning mama."

You scooped her up in your arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead as you sat her on your lap. "Morning sweetie."

Both of you watched the boys as they played around, messing up the bedsheets in their fun. Your daughter cheered her father on, and the betrayed look your son sent to his twin had you laughing.

What a perfect start to a perfect day, for the perfect family you had made with the love of your life.

Back to Masterlist...

[wingsofsong]

Cavendish and The Little Prince

In Chapter 784 "Gear Four" Oda forestalls the reveal of Luffy's new form to emphasize he and Law as the "eye of the storm" to follow Doffy's defeat through the words of Cavendish "The Pirate Prince."

But given the implicitness of that conclusion; the scene more so exists as character building for Cavendish.

Sitting criss-cross amongst the chaos grants him a very understated character moment for Cavendish and the reader to just "be" and soak in the beauty and adventure of Dressrosa; a feeling the anime expertly captures.

Displaying concern and appreciation outside of self from a character who's core gag/drive is self-absorbenent; putting his own place on the seas into perspective.

But there's more too it.

Cavendish's archetype is that of the White Knight/Knight Errant in European lit/mythos; his epithets being a verbalization of that fact.

Dressrosa is One Piece's analogue for Spain-

Cavendish's name is English in etymology and his real world namesake "Thomas Cavendish" the privateer is partly known for his raids of Spanish ships.

He's the former prince of the Borgeoise Kingdom, hailing from Rommel where himself as Hakuba became known as their slicing winds (a Kamitachi; a Yokai in Japanese mythos) alluding to Dr.Jekyl and Mr.Hyde and Jack The Ripper as you may know, both English refrences.

His former kingdoms name shares it's etymology with Mary Geoise in the French word Borgeosie and Cavendish's aesthetics/rapier are very Musketeer/French.

His weapon/attacks are all references to European mythos/lit/plays.

-Durandal a French blade of legend

-Round Table (King Arthur)

-Blue Bird

-Biken: Zan t-Exupéry

-Precious Metal Axe

The tontattas/fairies being another tie to literature and mythos.

Given that pastiche it's notable that Oda chose Cavendish to sit in a childlike manner and note one of the two most fantastical aspects of the arc in the "dwarves" (the other being the toys).

It taps into the feelings fantasy ferments in children and the inspirations behind Oda's writing, in a land where Doflamingo has cast a cruel veneer over the settings beauty.

A recent realization on my part is on the fourth attack listed above "Biken: Zant t-Exupéry" or

"Beautiful Sword: Stardust Prince."

The attack's name coming from French novel "The Little Prince-" and it's author; a childrens novel dealing with space, a loss of imagination in adulthood, love and loss and the human experience more broadly.

The titular character being the lonely, blonde "little prince" of an asteroid where he resides and tends to his love.

A thorny, vain, rose that "The Little Prince" knows not how to love properly until they've lost each other and he learns to see the uniqueness in those he values through their worth to one another vs outside validation/being a lone rose.

Cavendish is first seen with a red rose and his attacks often have rose petals swirling around him.

He's a blonde prince, exiled from his home with his animal companion Farul (The Little Prince tames/makes a companion of a fox on his journey).

From Oda's SBS we know that he also carried roses as a child and in a cover page we see him tending to a garden of roses with Farul, his vivre card lists roses as his favorite food, making it clear that Cavendish and roses is imagery Oda is intentionally/continuously associating him with.

Knowing this all; I propose that Cavendish's character is partly inspired by The Little Prince (the novel/character) in his design, own emotional makeup having aspects of various figures in the book, and the tapping into child-like wonder described above as the Little Prince's narrator is a man at risk of losing that imagination, as multiple adults seen through the stories pages already have.

Also:

-The stars on his pants are similar to the stars on the little princes coat which is also similar to Cavendish's coat

-They both use rapiers

It makes me wonder what Cavendish's childhood was like; if there was any lonliness, whether there's anything to be said abolut the potential of "taming" Hakuba and growing in self-love/past his obsession with uniquness.

Of course there's much more to his character than a single inspriation and differences to see between him and The Little Prince but I'll definitely keep the story in mind going forward.

[rubber-soul-daily]

Bonjour, welcome to Rubber Soul Daily!

I post lyrics from the album Rubber Soul by The Beatles daily, two words every day As of 9/25/24, I am posting 4 words every day.. I’m not bothering to schedule posts just because it’s easier to queue them, nor am I bothering to count lyrics because I don’t have much time and will inevitably lose count halfway through.

~

Tags:

#rubber soul daily for daily lyrics

#not rubber soul for non-lyric posts

~

Current song: Drive My Car

“Love” counter: 4 (may take a while to update!)

~

Rubber Soul Tracklist:

Drive My Car

Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)

You Won’t See Me

Nowhere Man

Think For Yourself

The Word

Michelle

What Goes On

Girl

I’m Looking Through You

In My Life

Wait

If I Needed Someone

Run For Your Life

~

Q&A:

Q: What’s your main?

A: My main is @joen-lenawley. You may also know me from @john-winston-ono-lennon and @beatals-forsale if you’re in the Beatles fandom, or @accidental-tally-hall-reference if you’re coming from the Dailyverse. You can find a full list of my side blogs on my Carrd, which is pinned on my main!

Q: What pronouns do you use?

A: I use she/her.

Q: Favorite track on Rubber Soul?

A: It changes all the time, but I’m currently obsessed with “Girl” and “Think For Yourself”.

Q: Is Rubber Soul your favorite Beatles album?

A: My favorite album also varies a lot, but it is definitely one of my faves.

Q: Do you include punctuation/capitalization?

A: I’ll include punctuation if I see it in the lyrics I search up on Google, but all words will have the first letter capitalized.

Q: Do you have a Dailyverse sona?

A: My Accidental Tally Hall Reference blog is an honorary daily and has a sona called Yumi, and she’s rooming with this blog’s sona, Michelle, who I have somewhat developed.

Here’s a bunch of picrews plus a sketch of Michelle! Dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes are so hard to find…

Q: Will there be Tit Day (x64)???

A: To make this more manageable, I won’t be posting backing vocals. So, unfortunately, no.

Q: Wait, what is the Dailyverse?

A: Ah, I assume you’re here from the Beatles fandom. Go check out @daily-blog-reunion-of-2024-lore, they have a master post with most of the lore. Fair warning, there’s some mature content there (lots of violence, abuse, alcoholism, people dying, etc.). You might be a bit confused by a few parts (especially the family reunion) if you don’t have some knowledge of Will Wood, Tally Hall, and/or Lemon Demon, but it is still enjoyable to people who don’t know anything about those artists. Also this blog mayyyyyyy exist for the purpose of getting more people into Dailyblr. Mayyyyyybe.

~

Au revoir, dear reader! Until we meet again!

[roachemoji]

Stranger Things S2 01

this is just me live blogging watching ST none of my thoughts are v coherent enjoy <3

STARTING OFF REAL INTERESTING BUT REAL TALK when you have like a cool haircut how do you expect not to be found if u do a crime???? LIKE I LOVE YOUR MOHAWK AND I GET IT U DONT WANT TO COVER IT BC OBVIOUSLY BUT!!!!

this is NOT the focus obviously its about the fact theres other kids from the lab BUT AKSHDAKSJDKH

DUSTINNNN!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH IM SO GLAD WE'RE STARTING ON HIM KISS KISS KISS

not the reagan sign STOP STOP ITS BEEN 2 SECONDS I HATE TED THATS HIS NAME RIGHT FIGHT KILL DESTROY BITE BITE BITE BITE

also the boys have grown SO MUCH !!!!!!! i forget there was actual real time between when these were filmed KSJHD im so excited to see Will and his perpetual bowl cut

JOYCE MY MOM!!!!!!!!!! SHES SO PRETTY AND SO CONCERNED I JUST LOVE HER

THE CHIP EATING DUDE FUCKING !!!! REMINDS ME OF THAT FUCKER FROM MONSTER HOUSE???????

THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE REMINDS ME OF THIS ASKJDHASKJHDKAJSH

Will is so tiny ..... and little? oh hes being teleported into the fucking upside down again baby boy im so fucking sorry also ilu but why would you just walk outside away from wher eyour friends WERE to look at the horrifying shit world you were trapped and almost died in ????? aSDKJH

Im gonna have to DM you on discord or something so i can properly save all the things you have to say about the timelines and how the Russian shit plays into that because was anyone calling El (im assuming he's referring to her) is Russian??? IK this is possibly the third (?) timeline we've seen (genuinely let me know if i can do that its ok if not i forget tumblr has Dms)

ALSO WHO IS THIS GUY IM CRYING HES!!! WHAT A PI??? WHO ARE YOU

NANCY AND STEVE ALSO BESTIES IM CRYING STEVE IS hes trying so hard are they dating my brain is so full of queer shit that im so deadset on platonic hetero relationships - i paused for one second and unpaused and they kissed SO THAT ANSWERS MY QUESTION

idk what relationships to pay more attention to bc the dynamic between Mike and El interests me the most because of how compulsory everything feels and how El is going to navigate a completetly new environment and how Mike will cope with that? (im assuming its not well)

OH is this the !!! the guy that i see people talk about all the time YEAHHH THE BLOND MULLET MAN AND MAX what the fuck is his name Billy??? He looks trans

CRYING AT CHECKING OUT H IS ASS GIRL WAHT ASS HES FLAT HE HAS NOTH ING AKDSHASKHDKAJSH and those jeans are supposed to be supporting cheeks

I love Mr Clark so much and everyone who looks bored in his class just doesnt GET IT

BUT ALSO MAX I GET IT QUEEN the boys all staring are so good I FORGET THEY GO AS THE GHOST BUSTERS FOR HALLOWEEN

JOYCE MY MOM WHO IS THIS GUY HES??? GOOFY AND SHES SO HAPPY ??? BOB !!! i have no initial bad opinions of him bc hes silly and goofy and he makes Joyce so happy and she deserves to be SO SOSOS OS HAPPY and nothing but happy

IF i have to endure another god damn Hopper flash back im gonna throw up and scream and cry and lose my mind and I won't recover and I'll never come back

Im in call while I watch this episode because i really wanted to get through while and actually use my brain bc i don't that often - but my roommates bird is sitting next to her mic and farting really really softly into it and its making me lose my fucking mind

CORN MAZES WHEN YOURE TALL LOOK SO EASY AND LESS SCARY WHENEVER IM IN A FUCKING CORN MAZE ITS TERRIFYING AND I CANT SEE SHIT BC IM LIKE 2 FEET TALL

NANCCYCYY AND JOHNANATHANANSDNSAKDJ BESTIES BESTIES BESTIES BEST FRIENDS IM MAKING THEM A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET ITS THEIR FAVORITE COLOURS AND THEY NEVER TAKE THEM OFF

ADN STEVE TOO!!! IM SORRY YOURE A THIRD WHEEL BUT its the start of season 2 how do we feel about polyam relationships between them where the audience for that point me in the correct direction

DUSTIN IS RIGHT ALSO I LOVE HIM i love his little hats - MAX IS ALSO RIGHT

God i feel so ba for Will like to be??? singled out like that especially in elementary school? hell.

WHERE ARE THEY GOING TOGETHER WHAT IS HAPPENING ISNT THIS THE LAB ??? ougHHH THAt needle sound was unecessary

REALLY starting to see how this might be a different timelinei have no idea how ???? Joyce would.... trust them??? UNLESS THIS IS A HOSPITAL no its not ho films ina fucking hospital like this

also theyre mentioning the upside down

I understand needing to go back to the only place that fully understands that it exists and you need a place to talk to someone and also monitor him physically without being dismissed as insane - but i dont understand how Joyce OR Hopper would trust the Lab again after everything happened??????

I'm glad that he's actually getting help, and im glad that Joyce and Hopper are there to make him feel safe and support him given everything but !!!!!

this iS THE. He has PTSD. when did they get the word to describe that akjhaskjdh NVM HE JUST SAID IT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALSO IS PRETENDING LIKE EVERYTHING IS NORMAL HELPFUL BC IT SURE THE FUCK IS N OT FOR ME ????????? also who is this DR hes kinder but "i need you to trust me" to JOYCE AFTER THE BRENNER SHIT ???

also them NOT MENTIONING IT WHEN THEY LEAVE BUT JOYCE UPSET ABOUT THE WHOLE "i need you to trust me" THING B UT NOT BRINIGN UP BRENNER?????? susususususus timeline shit anyway EM @ me tell me wahts up kiss kiss mwuah mwuah

OH they've upped their guinea pig game on entering the upside down and the gatelooks fucking uglier and uglier LOVE THE TORCH glad it works but no wonder the gate looks angry???

DUSTINNN I LOVE H IM I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

ough i have a feeling her older brother is gonna ..... trigger me a lil but we'll get through it

THEM BOTH HAVING A CRUSH ON HER!!!!!

If YouR fRiEnD jUmPs OfF a ClIfF 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

THEYRE GOING OVER TO HAVE DINNER WITH BARBS FAMILY STOP STOP STO PST OPST OPST IM GONNA CRY Oh they hired a P.I okay yeah the bald guy he..... HIS CARD STOPPPPP

realizing they defenitely can't tell her parent's what actually happened to her an di hate that im gonna oaufkahd girl im so sorry im so sorry im so osrry UPSET BC SHE AS A CHARACTER DID NOT DESERVE TO DIE I WISH THEY HADN'T DONE HER DIRTY LIKE THAT

all the photos of her would make me so ill to look at like god NANCYYY THE GUILT AND B LAME GIRLIEEEE

also Mike rebelling after experiencing that kind of trauma and losing Will and El even though Will came back he's not the same of corse he's struggling - calling it with the !!!! WALKIE TALKIEEEE girl i miss her too

YEAHHH ITS dustiNNNN BUT HE AKSHDKAJSH

DUSTINNN IM KAHSDKJH I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HES SO SILLY !!!!!!!!!!!!! HES THE SILLY IN MY HEART

HONESTLY props to him again for not like invesigating something that was probably gonna be HORRIBLE he'd survive a horror movie

JOYCEEEEE IN MY FAV SHIRT SHES SO KISS KISS KISS KISS

Johnathan is such a good brother bro BUT ALSO WILL IS SO RIGHT I GET IT I GET IT I UNDERSTAND TREATING IT LIKE ITS NORMAL MAKES IT WORSE !!!! SOMETHING HAPPENED PLEASE ACKNOWLEGE THAT and JOHANATHANNN HES THE FREAK AND A WEIRDO

STOPA SDADKSHJ iT S THAT WHY YOU DONT HAVE ANY FRINEDS SHUT UP STOP STOP /POS

BOB i love you so far and ik that being a step parent in these situation (even tho hes only dating Joyce its the same) is so hard especially when there are kids involved BUT YOURE DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB

AND THEYRE ALL WATCHING THE MOVIE TOGETHER AHHH

ew the phone the trigger GIRL YOU GOT THIS ITS OKAY ITS OKAY BUT ALSO THATS SUCH A HORRENDOUS RINGTONE WHAT THE FUCK

love me a tech who accidentally ignores the alarms going off (i couldnt hear the song playing it feels important - unintentially placing importance on all the music in this show now thank u em)

OohuaAHDAKJH OH WILL IS GONNA get ,,,,, yoinked back again isn't he ouguhadhAKHDJS interesting that it really only affects the *outside* like doors are now portals in a way ? i cant remember if it affected the inside of the arcade immediately or not

OH MIST LOOKING MOTHER FUCKER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wood Waffle Hours !!!!!!!!!! OH NO CABIN HOURS??? IS SHE. IS SHE. BIG EYE BALL EMOJIS LET ME SEE MY GIRL LET ME SEE THE BABY GIRL !!!! this entire scene makes it seem like shes a fucking AKSJDHA freak ass creature

HER HAIRRRRR SHES SO CUTE STOPPPP HOPPERS LITTLE SMILE IM TEARING UP AND CRYING ACTUALLY LOOK AT THEM LOOK AT THEM LOOKA T THEM OUGHHAHAHHHHHHHH IM HEAVING

thank u for reading these were my thoughts

[skyler10fic]

Love at First Snowfall

By Skyler10

Summary:

Daisy's grumbling about having to share a snowy family vacation with another family in their cabin ends suddenly when she meets their gorgeous daughter. Love at first sight might not be real, but this is making a believer out of Daisy. Luckily for her, Carol is a confident woman who goes after what she wants. And what she wants is Daisy. Like the snow outside, these girls are falling hard and fast.

Based on this image prompt from @ficwip

Read on Ao3

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

Daisy pulled her parka tighter as she trudged through the snow behind her parents. She was 25 but felt like a teenager, grumbling that snow was stupid and family vacations were stupid and blizzards blocking the driveway up to their cabin were especially stupid. It was cold, dark despite being only 6 p.m., and the groceries she was carrying from the convenience store in the village were threatening to break through their plastic bags. Plus, another family from the Air Force Officer’s Club was coming and sharing the cabin with them. Technically, the Coulsons were in side A and the other family was renting side B of the split duplex, but that side didn’t have any heating, so the three-bedroom three-bathroom side A half of the cabin would have to do for all six of them. 

“Ughhhh,” Daisy groaned as they approached the cabin and discovered the other family had arrived. A burly man with a snow shovel was clearing the driveway for his wife to pull in their giant SUV. Another “ughhh” sounded from the driveway as the door on the far side of the SUV opened and slammed shut. 

“Let me help!” a blonde young woman insisted to the burly man, who could only be her father. 

“I told you to wait in the car,” he insisted. “Young ladies don’t need to be out in this weather.” 

“Dad!” 

The two stopped bickering long enough to notice Phil, Melinda, and Daisy approaching, likely given away by the sound of their boots crunching on the icy snow. 

“Hey! I can grab some of those bags! Oh.” The blonde walked over, then exhaled a puff of white air as she saw Daisy up close.”Hi. I’m Carol.” 

Her rosy cheeks, soft smile, and bright eyes charmed Daisy immediately. “God, please let her be queer,” Daisy prayed to the rainbow gods. 

Carol’s mom turned off the SUV and got out to greet them, and introductions all around set the snowy week in motion. 

“And here we are,” Daisy concluded the short cabin tour for Carol, who plopped her duffle bag on the unclaimed bed. Daisy’s bed, with a view out the window at the snow-draped forest, was already rumpled from the night before. “Um, I hope that dark pink duvet is okay. We washed both when I arrived yesterday, and I took the navy.” 

“I like it.” Carol winked in a way that Daisy didn’t understand. “It suits us.”

“Sorry, what?” Daisy furrowed her brow, not following the reference. 

Carol nodded to the bi flag sticker on Daisy’s laptop, sitting half-open on the bedstand. She then pulled out her phone and lit up the lock screen. A stylized lesbian flag appeared, complete with a stripe so dark pink it was almost maroon, just like the duvet Daisy pulled off the shelf.  

So the sapphic goddesses did answer prayers. 

Daisy cleared her throat. “Oh! And do you have a girlfriend who is going to be jealous of us rooming together?” 

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Carol answered with a wry smile. “And do you have anyone who—?” 

“No! No,” Daisy clarified hastily. “I’m free. Free as a bird. Single as a … jingle? ANYWAY!” Daisy rushed to make her bed and sat down on it, then got up again abruptly, eyeing the door. 

Carol strategically leaned against the doorframe, casually blocking Daisy’s escape. “My mom tells me you work at Stark Industries too? Shame I haven’t seen you before around the office. Then again, I’m up on the 10th floor with the rest of aerospace.” 

“I… I mostly work from home, or, well, until recently I was in the New York office, but now, I’m not. I mean, I just moved back to Colorado. But I could be in the Denver office now more. Maybe visiting the 10th floor?” Daisy finished and blushed. She wasn’t used to being the flustered one. Usually she held all the cards, batting her lashes and pushing out her cleavage or wearing the perfect dress to make a man putty in her hands. But Carol Danvers was no man. This time it was Daisy fighting desperately for her cool-girl life. 

“I’d like that. That is, if you’re not sick of me after this week,” Carol laughed in self-deprecation. “But I already know you’re a lot nicer to look at than any of the sweaty dudes up there. It’d be a nice change of pace.” 

“I think there was a compliment in there?” Daisy laughed. “Thank you.” 

“Welcome.” Carol gave her a cheeky once-over to make the flirtation clear. 

Daisy’s heart skipped. “You know that officers’ dinner gala thing our parents have to go to on Wednesday night at the ski resort?” 

Carol rolled her eyes and her smile fell. “Ugh, don’t remind me.” 

“What if we stayed here instead? Made dinner together and got to know each other better?” Daisy held her breath as she waited for an answer.

“Hell yes.” Carol sighed in relief. “I hate those things.” 

The night of the gala, the girls got dressed up anyway after the parents left. They ate dinner by candlelight, after lying to their parents that they were too tired from skiing and just wanted a “cozy girls’ night in.” While their parents assumed they were watching trashy TV and heating up a frozen pizza in their PJs, they were really having their first date. 

Though they had only known each other a few days, their chemistry was instant. Love at first sight might be a myth, as true love grows over time with emotional intimacy and investment, but desire at first sight is as real as the sudden blanket of snow on a winter morning, fresh and sparkling with possibility. 

Sometimes that pure desire is tarnished with exploration, but for Daisy and Carol, it grew with each moment. By the end of the week, they were waking up with limbs entangled under the navy duvet, watching the snowfall replenish itself to brave the light of a new day.  

[cosmoboba]

1, 2, 6, 8! for mr strifey!

OH YEAH DADD-/JJJ

"Why do you like or dislike this character?" + 2. "Favorite canon thing about this character?" - Cloud Strife from Final Fantasy 7

because he's Cloud Strife. thanks for coming to my tedtalk/J

ANYWAYS i'm putting these two questions together with one answer considering that they're kinda the same thing

whenever it comes to this(/ese) question(s) for Cloud i'm just??? Not able to form a proper answer??? My answer just goes all over the place

let's start off with the fact that he fits into the delinquent trope, at least, in my eyes he does with how much retaliates(i.e Sephiroth + Shinra), BUT he does it for the right reasons ofc.

second things second....have I ever said that I'm a suckass for duality in a character? Queue in how Cloud wants to achieve a persona on the outside but is unable to contain that soft babyness within. Fucking loser I love him to death for that. AND NOT TO MENTION how he also struggles with fitting into that masculine standard and acts coldly just to make himself seem "cool", and each time I remember that bit of him I just go "he struggles with achieving being that man ppl expect him to be meanwhile my bitchass struggles with accepting my own femininity in fear that I'd get stereotyped/seen as vulnerable and weak" and it's just straight up "he's my fuckin (fictional)soulmate and god knows it"

AND NOW FOR PHYSICAL APPEARANCE CUZ IM THAT MUCH OF A SLUT OKAY.

"blonde hair and blue eyes is an overrated beauty standard" *fawning over Cloud fawning over Cloud fawning over Clou-*jokes aside technically I still think it's true like cmon now everyone is beautiful stfu with your standards

no cuz the fact that Cloud is canonically teased about looking like a big bird(chocobo) bc of his golden spikes is just....... square enix wants me fuckin dead ok

and no.

don't get me started on those....blue sky....crystal-like...orbs for eyes....that fuckers could stare into my soul....I'd allow him...and this is coming from someone whom is eye contact-shy...

hhmnmnhbbhbnbmnhhbmbnjbhbnmnbhbnmbhbnmbhbnmHBNMNBNHBNMNHN-

oh and he has some great arms too wow my good sir put me in a headlo-

6. "What's something you have in common with this character?" - Cloud Strife from Final Fantasy 7

let's begin with the fact that we both have been outcasted at kiddos, yeah?

Cloud hadn't been able to be accepted by Tifa's friend group, meanwhile I hadn't been able to be accepted by other kids due to my...heritage thanks to the fact that I spoke and looked different among of middle eastern group of kids

so....you can add the fact that we were both considered "weirdos" as kids to the list omg true love/s

not to mention how this both led us to being bitter? Yes I'd be lying if I said I didn't have anger issues(still do) and fought with my older brother's friends(but we're cool now). Same case with Cloud since he always put himself into fights with other kids, and eventually both of us just wanted to do smtg to be noticed/admired by someone too

Reverting back to how I explained elements of his personality that I like, which are. basically the the reasons why I love him in the first place along with other elements ofc-

so I can easily relate to his delinquency, being as I myself am a bit rebellious given the circumstance I am in irl. I disagree a lot with people around mecoughcoughfamilycoughcough I also use rebellion as like...ig a self defense mechanism to put it, which ties into how im unable to accept my own feminine urges bc like said, it's somewhat of a fear bc I dislike being categorized into the gender norm stereotype

Second is with his duality. Now this....is both a pos/ and neg/ context depending on what I'm referring to

for pos, or...neutral ig? I actually don't know how to explain what my personality is, let alone if I'd be considered an introvert. Now, I can't and genuinely don't know how to make friends anymore due to lack of emotional attachment, hence this leads to communicational loss and such, but then when I do become comfy with someone somehow that triggers into me socializing..? Like. to the point where I'm rambling and hell even overtalking

but this is just an example of many that's making me question what my personality is bc then there's times where I'm a douche but then comes the part where I feel really bad that I apologies too much

now...for the neg part

this part ties into my unfortunate hypocrisy, I honestly don't know how to control it. I don't mean hurt anyone, I have no intentions of it. But then when I get forced into scenarios just...where im afraid to actually speak up so...lying is my only gateway

yeah I'm sorry. I won't be going into a venting tizzy I prommie

8. "What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?" - Cloud Strife from Final Fantasy 7

....sigh.

okay look. YES I do get jealous when it comes to Cloud's relationship with the ladies.....but if you start misinterpreting/lying about his relationship with them then imma slap a bitch okay

no. Cloud does not hate Aerith and he doesn't want her dead either clearly you don't know what emotional attachment is let alone connection to someone special to you. Have you also forgotten how much Cloud had beaten himself over and over at how he hadn't saved her? Yeah I don't think someone with this much affection to a loved one would feel that fucked up over the fact that they died and they could've done anything to save them

no. Cloud didn't/doesn't hate Tifa for they way he was treated when they were younger. Like said I relate to what happened in our childhoods, and albeit some kids grow up to continue being a pain in the ass to ppl but some grow up to be friends later on, same case with me and my brother's friends. This ain't about me ofc tho but Tifa later on finds out what Cloud went through just to get her to notice him when they were younger, pair that with the trauma of the nibelheim incident and that just made them infinitely closer

I would like to add: no. Cloud sure as fuck DOES NOT think he's Zack. I would imagine he knew who Zack's parents were let alone would've recognized Aerith the moment he saw her. But did he? No, no he fuckin did not.

but anyways mmmm Clooudf Strriofenmnmnm<33333

[ezra-iolite]

The O'Murchadha-Mutheru Kids: Conduit, Sira and Bori

Because I can't draw for shit, and I'm too scared to...... Have some bios of Asya's main kids. Along with some cringey Picrews to help with visualizing them..... ART IS HARD, OK?! ;A;

| Conduit (The Eldest of all the kids- Adopted by Asya) |

~ Brief Description ~

He/Him pronouns. Gay/Achillean orientation.

Voice Claim: Hanta Sero- My Hero Academia (Japanese voice) Singing voice: Stratovarius

His full mortal name is Natori Siwatu O'Murchadha-Mutheru. He prefers to be called Conduit due to the comfort the nickname brings, though his adoptive mother Asya usually calls him "Little Bird", which is what his first name actually means.

Conduit is a curse-made Gargoyle just like Fort Max (link here if you need a visual reference), but while Conduit should turn into stone during the day, the crystals that grow along his back and wings (sometimes his arms, legs and tail, if he uses his powers too much) are shards of moonstones that save him from the curse's stone-form effect. They are what prevents his ability to speak from being stolen and keeps his head and chest from becoming fully gargoyle in appearance, aside from his horns and fangs, and allow him to be active during the day and night.

If the moonstone shards are all removed, the grey scales will creep further up his human skin and he will become a statue at dawn, which will continue until a new crystal patch grows on his back again. But if he cannot regrow the crystals at all before the end of a week.... he will become a full gargoyle and lose his human side forever.

The appearance of his human side only consists of his light tan skin on his upper-torso area and head. But, from his shoulders to his hands, his hips to his feet, his tail and his wings down along his back... Conduit has dark grey scales befitting a gargoyle. He also has scraggly blonde hair and baby blue eyes, with short, straight-arching, dark grey horns. He got his scar across his face long before he met Asya, when he was a feral child struggling to survive against the Deep Dweller sirens constantly attacking him.

Those constant attacks from the Deep Dwellers are the reason why Conduit has a fear of going into the ocean and of sirens, other than Elbent, Ferrous or Indi. Starstrike (@dimorphodon-x's OC) does unnerve him for this reason, but also because of his infamous stare reminding him of a Deep Dweller, but Conduit instinctually masks his fear and does his best to not react to it around him, to ensure he isn't rude or hurtful towards Strike. (He's a very polite little man, even in the face of his PTSD, ok?!)

He quickly grew to reach 8 feet tall by the time he turned 19, making him a full foot taller than Verglaust. But for a while, he was considered the shortest on the ship due purely to his malnourishment, so as soon as he gained some pounds and healthy chonkiness, he quickly gained muscle and size thanks to the healthier lifestyle and care Asya and the gang gave him... Making both Conduit AND Asya late bloomers that gained their growth spurt at the same stage in their life.

He's around 27 years old by the time he arrives at Joka Ardhi, making him the oldest kid on the ship by six years. Once Ferrous becomes captain of the ship, Conduit will take over his father's role as the Immortal Sun's main doctor, helping Nicole even after her retirement.

Overall.... Conduit's a very good boy, kind-hearted, well mannered, and always eager to help. Also very protective of his siblings, especially his sister Sira and Bori.

~ Backstory ~

Asya and her two husbands had spent only five years living on the Immortal Sun, when they came across an island full of pearlescent shards of moonstone crystals, with some growing as tall as trees in towering clusters. Upon landing on the island to investigate, the crew found a cave full of different veins of crystals, a majority of which were magical in nature and could therefore be used for medical or practical purposes. And with Asya's childhood being spent studying the magic of crystals, as is commonly used in Jokani culture, they began to mine for them and bringing back barrels worth of them, a majority of which could be sold for a great fortune.

During their excavation adventure, Asya stumbled across a hut made of palm leaves and crystal shards, as well as a crowd of Deep Dweller sirens flocking at the shore of the hut. There, being pulled down by the sirens and frantically trying to escape their bloodthirsty hunt, was a young boy. A gargoyle somehow moving about in daylight, and being pulled down under the water by the Deep Dwellers. Without even a moment to hesitate, Asya jumped into the water and fought off the sirens, before she pulled the boy to shore and helped him catch his breath.

Weak, malnourished, riddled with injuries, old scars and crystals just like the ones on this island covering his back and wings, the boy looked to be no older than seven, but by his gargoyle features and face, Asya knew he was physically older but was too weak to develop into his teen body properly. And despite her feeling the sting of trauma from a child she previously rescued long before she met her husbands (a purple Dragonkin toddler she named Hyacinth who died at the hands of his captors despite her best efforts to save him).... Asya chose right there and then to take this boy in and raise him to be stronger, healthier and adored, to never face his struggles in life alone ever again.

After checking to be absolutely certain that he was the only one on this island, Asya marched right back to the ship with the boy in her arms, and without even looking back or saying a word to anyone she passed by, despite the obvious confusion and questions of the crew and her captain, Asya brought the boy below deck and nursed him back to health, making him the first child on board the Immortal Sun. The moment he regained consciousness, the child began to act defensively feral, hissing and swatting at anyone who dared come near him, with the only real way to treat his wounds being to wait until he was asleep or wait for him to trust Asya, Nicole or Kevin to touch him while he was too exhausted to fight back, and only then could they fully patch him up. Not even Max during his nightly rounds brought the fellow gargoyle any comfort, but no matter who came and went out of the cage room... Asya was always there, spending every moment she could by his side, patiently waiting for him to lower his guard and simply spoke to him with a soft, maternal voice to soothe his worries, oftentimes calling him "Little bird" affectionately, all without realizing just how suddenly she was adopting the role of a mother.

Four months later, the now healed up and less frightened boy finally began to explore the ship, curious yet timid but in a way a child should be. No longer did he show his feral side, but still he preferred to walk on all fours and move or act like a beast, not that Asya minded as she encouraged him while also showing him how to rely on his hind legs (a secret she had yet to reveal to the crew about her own childhood habit of walking on all fours and learning to transition onto her paws). And after another month, he finally began to speak but with very few words, like a toddler learning how to grasp the concept of speech. It was, however, more than enough to learn his story...

Of how he lived with his human father and mother, a Primus fisherman and a Unicronian weaver, on a tiny ship that relied on the sea for all they needed. Of how the ship suddenly crashed on a small island that was home to a mage, and how the mage angrily cursed Conduit, the only survivor, for stealing from his trash for food, and thus cursed him to bear the appearance of a true beast scavenging to survive. The moment the curse took form, it went rogue from the boy's fear, trauma and anguish, and thus the island became completely surrounded by crystals born of his body and power, killing the mage with it on accident. And since then, the boy grew up surviving on his own, until he was attacked yet again by the same Deep Dwellers who caused his family's ship to crash and killed his parents.

Since that faithful day, Asya has since taken him under her wing and raised him with all her love and praise, and with a healthier lifestyle he immediately shot up in size and grew physically stronger and bigger as a result, reaching well above Ferrous's height when he reached twelve years old, while the gargoyle child was twenty and already surpassed the average human height easily. Nowadays, rather than going by the name Asya chose for him in place of the one he can no longer remember from his parents, he usually goes by Conduit, in reference to his crystals being conduits of the elements.

~ Appearance ~

Present day Conduit (during the timeline of One Last Wish) is a 27 year old cursed Gargoyle who stands at 8 feet tall, with a wingspan of 7 feet. He has light tan skin with more human features than gargoyle ones, with his wings, entire lower torso down to his digitigrade legs and tail, and his hands up to just below the elbows, all being grey like a gargoyle. From the middle of back and the arms up to the thumb of his wings are all covered in small moonstone clusters, which aid in his ability to stay unfrozen during the day and grant him his powers over the sky-based elements (air, heat, water and lightning). He also has short, scraggly, golden blonde hair and blue eyes, nearly the same hue as his adoptive mother's, a large scar right across the bridge of his nose and under his eyes, and short, straight, grey horns.

Clothing wise, Conduit normally just wears grey, baggy shorts or haram pants, due to the sheer thick size of his digitigrade legs, and a sleeveless yellow top that must have no buttons due to how large and beefy he is naturally as an adult. More often than not, he's usually shirtless when he doesn't feel like struggling with his clothes.

When he uses his powers, the crystals glow the colour of what element he uses (red for heat, light blue for air, yellow for lightning, sapphire blue for water) and he can use up to two elements at a time. However, the more or longer he uses his powers, the more the crystals grow along his body, which mainly gather along his back and wings. But if he uses them too often during a battle, they'll begin to creep more and more along his body, starting with his spine area on his back, down to his tail, and then along his arms and the back of his legs. The more crystals that grow, the more unstable his powers become, until he'll start losing control entirely and lighting or heat begin to spout from his crystals and body against his will. The only way to stop this is to break the crystals off and bring them down to a minimum amount at least on his wing tips.

Growing and trimming the crystals always cause him pain since they pierce through his flesh and grow directly from his bones, but Asya's white fire always helps to soothe it a little during their removal.

~ Personality ~

Conduit is a very sweet, empathetic, kind and patient gentleman, and the older he becomes, the more polite and patient he ends up being through experience and age. Even as a man in his late 20s, he's still the kind of person who helps anyone and everyone, even animals... With such an example being his habit of picking up snails when on land, and putting them in the grass or somewhere safe and hidden to keep them safe from a human path. Despite him understanding that he lives a safe life, however, he always excessively worries about his parents due to their collective trauma. And despite Asya's best efforts in making sure Conduit lives a good and happy life, he still worries about his Mama's wellbeing every time she plays the role of the hero for her family. This has resulted in him developing constant nightmares and insomnia.

... Which led to him becoming close with Blue Heron, Max and his adoptive father, Verglaust, when they're all out and about during the night. Once he becomes a doctor, Conduit will grow even closer to Max and Blue Heron, considering them his uncles.

| Sira (Second child of Asya, Third born on the ship- Biological Daughter of Asya and Kevin) |

~ Brief Description ~

She/Her, Lesbian/Sapphic - Asexual

Voice Claim: Yasha- Critical Role Campaign 2 (she IS mute and literally has no means of talking vocally... but Indi does find a crystal that can grant her one, so this is what she would sound like, after a long while of training to relearn how to speak) Singing voice: Lethabo Mello

Her full name is Sira Citrine O'Murchadha-Mutheru, but like most on the ship, she gained a "pirate" name later on in life, based on her assassin skills and lack of voice... Whisper.

Sira is the shortest of all the kids, with her being just two inches taller than her adoptive mother, Elbent, and only reaching below her closest friend Divot's nose when facing them. On average, she can only reach below the chest of the majority of the Immortal Sun's crew, and can very easily sit on Solclave and Verglaust's shoulder without feeling heavy on them, even as an adult, mostly thanks to her lanky build.

She's known as the "smartest" kid on the ship, due to her analytical and quick-thinking nature, so she usually always knows what to do to solve a problem. She inherited her high intelligence and beauty (alongside her height) from her father, but learned her fighting skills and wit from her mother and Uncle Blue Heron. However, she's often considered a know-it-all due to this, and is often teased when she tries to infodump any exciting new thing she's learned.

On that note, she also inherited her Mama Asya's autism (as well as the Mutheru aquiline nose), which only adds to her struggles due to her being born mute and becoming more reclusive as she grew up. She often hides in high places hidden from view to read and stay away from everyone, mostly due to her being so frequently ignored because of her mutism or teased for her book-smarts but lack of knowledge on how to properly express her emotions. This developed into her "cold and stoic" reputation and masking method, even though she is an emotional and highly empathetic person thanks to Asya teaching her and Divot comforting her.

Sira is one of the only two Dragonkin of Asya's lineage living on the Immortal Sun, after Asya and her poly-fam move to Joka Ardhi. But despite Asya being a Ruby breed of Dragonkin, Sira and her younger brother Bori are both Opal Dragonkin, due to them both not being Sun Blessed or bearing the traits of their mother's pedigree. This is because specific conditions must be met in order for a Ruby Dragonkin to be born, and thereafter are considered their own species or breed. (But without these conditions tampering with Asya's firstborn or any child afterwards, every child born of Asya's blood are therefore all Opal Dragonkin (But only Njeri, Asya and Elbent's child, is a Ruby Dragonkin like Asya, since they were born on Joka Ardhi, and has since become the only one of Asya's species to be born during her reign as Dragon Queen)).

Divot (@cuppajj's OC, the child of Drillburst and Fort Max) is the only one who can truly understand Sira on a personal level. For even with them learning how to fluently use sign language, Divot has always been able to "read" and deeply understand Sira since they were kids, and as they grew up together to become warriors and wiser people as a whole, Divot can now read her body language just as clearly as her hand sign. To Divot, Sira can speak a thousand words with just a mere shrug, or say all that she needs to say with just a glance or glare. Deep down, Sira considers Divot her soulmate, thanks to their deep understanding of the mute Dragonkin, and deep down she feels drawn to them in a certain way~

~ Backstory ~

After the troubling birth of Elbent's second-born daughter Indicolite (in which Asya aided in the delivery, but when she was born blue and deathly still, she used the forbidden Soul Fire magic and gave up a piece of her soul to revive Indi), Asya immediately knew deep down that she yearned to bear a child of her own. The baby blues hit even stronger the moment she held the crying and lively newborn siren in her arms, now bearing a tiny shard of Asya's soul for the rest of her life.

There was just one problem with her wish... She was still stuck with the remnant parts of a man, despite her hormone replacement therapy granting her the physique of a woman.

So, it was decided, after much discussion and argument between Asya, Kevin, and Elbent, that until a more permanent solution could be found, they would craft a potion to temporarily grant Asya the full form of a woman, with her first love, Kevin, being chosen as the sire of this child. And for the first few months of her pregnancy, despite all the sickness and aches she felt... Asya finally felt whole. The dysphoria was gone, for the first time in her life, and Asya had never felt so happy since that day.

But the joy did not last... For when she reached only her seventh month, Asya began to bleed and knew something was wrong. The baby was coming. And she knew, despite the constant reassurance she gave to her spouses through her agony... She was dying. The potion was wearing off too soon, and Asya's body was reverting to its old state, with her womb slowly disappearing and the labor now starting to tear Asya apart from the inside.

Working quickly and efficiently, they finally delivered a healthy baby girl, but... Asya couldn't wake up. And while the newborn never cried her first breath, the screams that echoed from Elbent rang across the ship marked the event for all to remember for the rest of their lives, as her spouses soon ran in to witness Elbent slowly turning feral with grief, as she held her dead wife. Kevin and Conduit quickly worked together to patch Asya up and used Conduit's electricity to shock her back to life. And even though it worked... the new mother remained sleeping, too weak to wake up or even move. And upon checking on the premature infant, Nicole discovered why she was so eerily quiet....

The baby was born without a voice. Not even a voice box could be found in the newborn's throat, despite her having everything else she needed to breathe, drink, eat and live without any issues.

So, when Asya finally healed and came out of her coma a month later, the new parents worked during Asya's bed rest to learn sign language and form a curriculum for their mute daughter and all their kids and the crew of the ship to learn, in order to grant their youngest child the right to communicate as she grew. And as she did grow up strong but silent, Asya finally figured out a name for her now three month old, based purely on the appearance she inherited...

Sira, after her late grandmother, Gasira Mutheru, and Citrine for her middle name, after Apophis's daughter, the dragon who was meant to become the next Dragon Queen were it not for the Founders.

....... Growing up on the ship soon became a challenge all on its own for Sira, as without a voice or a clear way to communicate, the young Dragonkin was easily ignored due to how chaotic and loud everyone else was, despite their love and care for her. So, instead of trying to stand out to be seen, Sira opted to simply hide and be patient, wait for her turn for attention to get the things she needed, or simply go to Solclave, Blue Heron, Hawk or, more frequently, Divot for help.

Her visits to Divot and Drill to get away from the frantic lifestyle of her family grew more and more common, even more so when Sira became fully fluent in hand sign alongside her parents, her brothers and sister, and of course Divot, the only person quiet enough to listen to Sira who aided in helping her learn. Now with a more visual way of communicating beyond being dragged around, pointing and writing to show Sira's needs, the blue Dragonkin and the child of the bard quickly became a common sight around the ship, as they grew into mischievous teenagers and eventually witty young adults, masters in the ways of a warrior and seafaring pirates.

Mastering her icy blue flames and the ballet-like grace of her steel barbed whip, a weapon she hides as a belt under her sash while her leather corset protects her skin, Sira grew up into a formidable warrior due to the speed of her attacks and the range of both her fire magic and her weapon. However, Sira's greatest strength lies in her stealth and silence, alongside her quick wit and the trust she has in Divot.

~ Appearance ~

As she grew and neared her pre-teens, Sira looked almost entirely human during this phase of her childhood development, were it not for her sky blue hands and feet (aside from her soles and palms, which were the normal pale brown befitting a person of colour) alongside the very tiny stumps for horns hidden in her afro of dreadlocks. But as she reached her mid-teen years, she developed the traits befitting a blue Opal Dragonkin, with clawed draconic feet upon scaly legs, sharp clawed hands and fangs, a long tail with a short black tuft of fur at the tip, and short, slightly curved, gazelle-like horns. She hated this form of puberty since Dragonkin grow their scales through pimples, just like a human teenager with acne, but are extremely itchy as they emerge and become scales along the skin, which is also oily to help the scales develop into strong, vibrant and hard armour... but it stinks like rotting fish, unfortunately for Sira.

Fashion wise, Sira wears dusty-pastel blue, shoulderless blouses with long draping sleeves, all of them being made of silk or any soft fabrics she can find due to her finding cotton and linen too rough for her comfort. This is normally paired up with simple navy or dark blue pants that only reach her knees, to accommodate for her digitigrade legs, held up by a scarf belt Asya weaved for her 18th birthday, made of dark green and yellow cashmere... The colours of her crush, Divot, which she started wearing as a belt on the day Divot explained their pronouns to show her support for her She/They friend. (Yes, Asya knows this, and she excitedly ships them... She already has a golden cow statuette ready to give to Drillburst, as it is Jokani tradition for a parent or partner to give the family of the betrothed a cow as their dowry) And due to her constant reading, Sira developed bad eyesight and at the age of 12, earning her rectangular glasses that she cannot take off for anything other than baths and sleeping.

Sira inherited her mother's ebony skin tone, but due to her half-black genes, she's just one hue lighter than Asya but is still MUCH darker than Blue Heron. Alongside the Jokani completion, Sira also inherited her mother's long curls, and so keeping in her half-Jokani tradition and for easier hair maintenance, Sira has skinny and tight box braids that only reach below her chin and jaw, styled in a side-swept bob, with a few colourful beads to decorate the very ends of some of her braids in the colours of her parents:

Orange for Asya, Red for Kevin, Dark Blue for Brynjolf, Sky Blue for Elbent, and Emerald Green for Verglaust.

Two pairs are on the first two braids framing her face, to represent all four parents evenly, and two more pairs are on either side of her ears....... And yes, when it's windy, they do tend to whack her glasses.

~ Personality ~

Due to her growing up surrounded by loud, energetic and constantly busy family members, and an even louder ship full of crewmates constantly arguing, bantering, singing and fighting monsters of the sea or other pirates, Sira grew up feeling invisible for most of her life, finding comfort in books and solitude. But because of this lifestyle, she never felt the need to be emotionally expressive to make up for her lack of a voice, for who would even see her expressions or emotions when no one can hear her or remember to look her way?

As such, Sira doesn't speak, or rather sign, as much as she'd like to, simply because she rarely has much to say knowing she would just end up being talked over or not given attention in order to communicate at all, due to her mutism and her need to have someone who knows hand sign to speak to. So, when she does hold a conversation with someone, she often has a chilling and stoic aura around her, almost like an inability to use any of her emotions, which surprisingly aids in showing just how intelligent she can be.

However, Sira is actually very shy and introverted, and oftentimes finds herself acting rather awkward in most social situations due to her solitary lifestyle. This is where Divot comes in as her saving grace and her advocate.... For without them, Sira would be even more antisocial and outright afraid to even approach people, due to the huge barrier her disability causes.

When she's with Divot, Sira is much more expressive, relaxed and happy, to the point that no one on the entire ship, other than her parents, have ever seen her smile without Divot being there. It's gotten to the point, now that they are all older and have formed their adult lives on the ship, that every time Divot enters the room, Sira immediately brightens up and her fire magic flares due to her magic being fueled by her emotions and her literal heart. They usually show up as a smoke-filled sigh that comes out in the shape of a heart, or her tail tip catching fire suddenly. Divot has yet to realize this, much to Sira's relief in her hope of revealing her fiery heart's desire to them one day~

| Bori (Third child of Asya, Last child born on the ship to Elbent's family- Son of Asya and Verglaust) |

(Art belongs to PammyJammy117 on Twitter... I'm just using it as a placeholder cause HE EERIE LOOKS JUST LIKE VERGLAUST AND ASYA BUT WHITEWASHED, LIKE DAYUM)

He/Him, Pansexual

Voice Claim- Lon'qu from Fire Emblem Heroes Singing Voice: Rengoku's part in this... Bori would most likely sing this with Flora (Nicole's daughter) for a karaoke night of drunken fun.... but also I just really like this song ;3;

His full name is Borealis Kaito O'Murchadha-Mutheru, and instead of gaining a badass pirate name like the rest of his family... his appearance and the teasing from his much older siblings led to him earning the nickname "Panda". But, when he's finally treated more seriously, he bears the proud moniker of his name, Bori, after the adoptive albino Dunefarer that Asya considered her true father in her past.

His usual reaction to being called Panda is to immediately snap/spin to the one who called him that (usually just his siblings) and yell at the top of his voice "YOU..... Shut your face!!" and then just as suddenly return to whatever he was doing, including speaking at a calmer and quieter tone, as if it never happened. It's become an inside joke to the O'Murchadha-Mutheru siblings, to see just how far away they can be to see how loud Bori's voice can get.

Bori became the strongest person on the ship, in order to inherit his father's role as the protector of the Immortal Sun. And thanks to the crystal magic Asya discovered during her battle against her father, Bori soon gained the ability to transform into a 35 foot long white Lindwyrm.

Because he's the youngest on the ship, Bori was half raised on Joka Ardhi until he was around 20 years old, when he felt ready to live on the Immortal Sun away from his parents. During his time on land, he discovered his orientation and became a bit of a playboy amongst the Jokani. He did meet and eventually fall for a Dragonkin transwoman with lavender scales named Djamila, whom he visits once a year when the ship returns to Joka Ardhi for their annual family meeting to keep in touch. He hopes one day to bring her with him for the year to see the world beyond the southern kingdom's shores.... and marry her~

Should anything happen to Njeri or her future heirs when they becomes the next Dragon Monarch after Asya, Bori has given his consent to come back to Joka Ardhi and step in as a "stand-in" Dragon Lord until a suitable heir can replace him, be it his own children or someone he feels can bear the mantle of the crown. So, despite his Opal Dragonkin birth and his lack of coronation as crown prince, Bori is a real prince, and a cautionary heir apparent to the Throne of Crimson Sands. And should he actually become Dragon Lord, none would dare to oppose him due to his strength and kindness.

~ Backstory ~

Once again, the baby blues hit a now fully transitioned intersex Asya, only this time she was more severely warned by her husbands and wife that she cannot, under any circumstances, carry a child. Not until they were truly sure of her body being capable of undergoing such a taxing event and survive.

So, a deal was struck... Kevin would carry the child by undergoing an upgraded and longer lasting gender-bending potion, and through a mix of science and meticulous magical aid, a piece of Asya's DNA (her "seed") was altered to ensure she was the biological mother of the child. And, with Verglaust chosen as the sire, Kevin would henceforth be their gender-bent surrogate to the very first Half-Fauna dragon-hybrid, that being a half Desert Lindwyrm Dragon - half Sea Dragon.

Despite their worries of Kevin possibly facing body dysphoria and pain from carrying a child, let alone one bearing a plethora of sturdy genes (of both an increased dragon bloodline instead of a half human one, and Verglaust's dominant giant-size gene), Kevin had no issues and instead experienced a surprisingly pleasant pregnancy and birth... At the result of him realizing that he was genderfluid and loved appearing as masculine or as feminine as he felt each day, to the point that he and Elbent now have daily arguments over her dresses that he steals borrows.

When the baby was born, there was no question on what to name him, especially after the shock wore off from the fact that the infant's ebony skin had white Dragonkin traits. The white scales of his Dragonkin features would soon lead to his parents deciding on the name Borealis, after Asya's father figure who often wore a white wolf pelt to cover his pale, albino skin.

However, because of his literal "black and white" appearance, as well as his early growth spurt making him as tall as Elbent by the time he was ten, his siblings and most of the crew started calling him "Panda". This, however, would be a name that he'd greatly benefit from as it perfectly described him in personality too... For when the day came that his parents decided to leave the Immortal Sun and live in Joka Ardhi, bringing Bori with them after consent was given to let him be raised by his parents until he was ready to return to the ship, many of his now adult aged siblings were given the roles of their parents, be it by the child's choice or inherited by birthright.

And so, Bori grew up for half his life in the royal palace of Joka Ardhi, a designated prince by blood as he grew in both size and power, while also growing up hearing the tales of his parents' heroic deeds during their decades at sea. And as he grew to be just as big as his father, Bori was inspired by him and so chose to inherit the role of the "guardian" of the ship, once he was old enough and felt ready to leave. During his final month in preparation for his departure, his mother Asya revealed to him the secret of her family, of how she won the war against her father for the crown... The crystals that bore the ability to change a dragon from before the Founder's War into humans could also allow humans bearing their blood to turn into titan sized dragons.

Immediately, Bori took his chance to fully embrace the old mantle of his father and gained the ability to turn into a giant Lindwyrm at will, just like his mother could, but one capable of rapid speeds through both air and sea thanks to his inherited White and Yellow fire magic allowing him to hop and glide through the air, while his father's sea dragon genes allowed him to swim faster than the wind... Even though he requires a potion to grant him gills.

~ Appearance ~

Bori is the only one so far to be JUST as tall as Solclave once he's fully grown, all thanks to his father's tall genes and his mother's Dragonkin size boosting genes adding onto it. It certainly doesn't help that he's also huge in a physical way, due to his training to tone his growing body and prepare it for his chosen role as guardian of the ship, a mantle he eagerly wished to gain to honour both his father and maternal grandfather-by-choice.

As such, Bori usually wears armour that mostly consists of leather pants, metal knee pads and boots, leather straps crossed over his bare chest (that constantly creak with strain when he crosses his arms) that hold his twin sinmalayat swords at his hips, and a metal pauldron covering the entirety of each shoulder down to his bicep, one cut in the shape of a wolf skull, the other of a dragon.

...... He refuses to wear a shirt or coat.

Beyond that, he mostly inherited his father's looks, but he has his mother's ebony skin tone, though his is a bit lighter and towards a bronze hue. He also has central heterochromia, with his father's sunset-orange eyes being in the center while his mother's aquamarine-blue hue surround the rings of orange... And sometimes, when his eyes are half-lidded, they appear just like a golden sun on the sea horizon. He often wears his black, wavy curls half-up in a messy bun to hide them, while the rest of his hair reaches just past his shoulders, with three beads (green, orange and red for his father, mother and surrogate carrier) in a single row woven into the hair-tie, as is tradition of a Jokani child.

~ Personality ~

Upon first impressions, Bori appears stoic, intimidating and a terrifying presence to be near, which certainly fit his overshadowing appearance and height. However, once someone gets to truly talk to him without showing him any fear, Bori finally reveals his true personality...

A kind, mannerly, sweet and caring guy who tends to be rather sheepish and easily flustered at the simplest of compliments.

He is very playful with his siblings, since they rarely saw each other before he joined the crew once he was of age, and to make up for lost time they constantly prank each other. In turn, he is very protective of his older sister Sira, the only other Dragonkin on the ship, and the two form a close bond as they celebrate both sabbatic and religious traditions of their Jokani culture together, to honour their mother and family when they miss them.

And when the day comes that he finally brings his girlfriend on board, they celebrate their Jokani ways as a new family to help Djamila (often called Millie for short) settle in and enjoy her time on the ship... just as the crew did when Asya first came on board~

And to finish this off.... here's everyone's heights, with Asya (in her true Dragonkin form), Verglaust, Elbent, Kevin and Solclave for comparisons.

[thelightningthatjumpsbetween]

Forty Eight

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Sequel of Winters and the Beast, a Resident Evil: Village Story

The surprises didn’t stop coming after Ethan’s ‘conversation’ with the BSAA agent.  

Heisenberg steered him into a large bank branch, where amid all of the Romanian words, Ethan picked up on some of what was transpiring.  A land development fund allocation.  Not the bank’s funds.  The funds left by Miranda.  It was a vast amount.  He knew part of it was for the power restoration in the valley, but wasn’t the government handling most of that?  

The bank teller seemed to catch on that Ethan couldn’t keep up, and amid paperwork signing, asked Karl, in English, “So, what are the plans-a business, as it is a commercial account?  Will you need assistance finding contractors?” 

“We’ll draw plans up by spring, let you know,” Karl replied amiably.  His very American accent startled the banker.  The engineer stroked his beard and added nonchalantly, “Plans’re up to the wife.”  

Ethan turned sharply, wondering what in the hell Heisenberg was referring to, but the man thumbed at him cheekily.  “That’s the wife.” 

The banker laughed, confused, as Ethan’s face burned.  

—---------

Evie had her first ice cream with Ethan, Rose, and Donna in attendance.  As Ethan dug enthusiastically into his milkshake, Evie said in a deadpan, “The lady behind us in line was wondering why you weren’t holding Donna’s hand.  She thinks you two are our mom and dad,” and caused the blond to almost choke.  Donna turned red, an exceptionally rare feat, and Rose laughed.  So it appeared that his earlier ‘reading’ of Redfield was accurate…those infected, with enough power, could pick up on thoughts of others, even humans who weren’t infected.  

After the ritual of ice cream, Ethan said amid a racing heart, “Evie, if you want to call me your Dad…I’m okay with that.” 

“Really?  Even after…all the bad stuff…?”

“Sure.”  Why did that make him so nervous?  But then, he’d been nervous about taking care of Rose as well.  Ethan just supposed he took the title of ‘Dad’ seriously.  Which made sense, as his own had disappeared in his youth.  “You don’t have to, but you can.” 

“I think you’re a good dad.” Was she responding to his statement, or to what he was thinking?  

—---------

His next surprise was at the group meeting spot; Ethan and his small entourage approached the fountain at 6pm, the agreed time.  The blond’s gaze turned to tunnel vision when he saw a hunched figure, wrapped in multiple black shawls, tossing something onto the cobblestones for the birds.  But they were…crows.  

Time slowed; the grain leaving her hands cascaded in slow motion.  He heard the crackles as it landed, saw the black glinting eyes of the corvids as they pecked.  Ethan stared back at the figure, willing it to turn around.  He knew that when it did, it would be the hag…Miranda.  She straightened, her back still to him, and a familiar musical laugh soared toward him.  It was the same laugh he’d heard in January, in the Potter’s field-the mass unmarked grave of the village.   He moved to  stand in front of Donna.  Rose was in her stroller, Evie was holding his other hand.  Ethan pivoted so he was in front of Evie as well.  Donna pulled the stroller back and peered where it was that Ethan stared, but she seemed to miss the figure shrouded in black.  

Crows littered the entire area.  Most people walked by them without seeming bothered.  When he heard cawing, Ethan realized they were on the nearby statues and building ledges as well.  His gaze again went back to the hag.  She turned and he prepared for the pale eyes. 

And yet when she turned, it was a different woman.  She wasn’t wearing black, she had on a bright red and yellow shawl.  She smiled a toothless smile at Ethan before turning back and pouring more grain out.  To pigeons.  Pigeons were in the square.  He blinked rapidly.  

“Ethan, are you all right?”

“Did any of you see that?”  He half turned, his voice low.  He looked at Evie hopefully.  Even she shook her head in confusion.  “The pigeons were….crows.  That woman…she looked like Miranda.  Only for a second.” 

“I believe you,” Donna said simply, “But we didn’t see it.”  She gazed at the woman, and then back to the blond.  “But your eyes, Ethan…they were…”

“Dark,” the child finished.  

—------------------

It happened again after the train ride home.  

The regional train out of the city was old, creaky, rusty.   The combination of metal and motion lulled Heisenberg into a peaceful nap, and he sprawled out on a long window seat with Donna under his head, Moreau under his feet.  Ethan felt nervous, as if he were being watched the entire time.  He was trying to busy himself with anything other than what was on his mind; the strange encounters of the day.  He now had a phone, and only knew two phone numbers to put into his contact list. 

So he put them both in, hoping they were right, and sent the same text. 

Hey, it’s Ethan.  This is my number. 

He looked around at his makeshift family, wondering why he felt so uneasy…the morning train ride had been uneventful.  The buzz from his phone startled him.  

Hey Ethan! You finally got a phone! Welcome to the future.  Zoe. 

Copy that.  You sure your boyfriend wants you texting me?  Chris.  

He rolled his eyes at that and began a response.  Soon he was chatting with both, avoiding the topic of Eveline to Zoe, and feeling far more normal than he had in awhile.  

Eventually they reached their stop, a rural station that had no amenities and a dirt lot.  The pair of vehicles they’d driven out here were in the lot, waiting on them under a lone streetlight.  Ethan should have felt relief at seeing the old reliable vehicles, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.  As he stepped onto the platform and gazed down the row of doors opening, he saw a familiar face floating past all of the unaware passengers.  

It was Miranda.  She smiled at him, a nasty smile, and time seemed to slow around Ethan again as he watched her.  

Time’s almost up, he heard in his mind.  Was it her voice?  

“Papa,” Heisenberg said idly, putting a hand on the small of Ethan’s back.  “Let’s go.” 

“I-I saw-”

“I believe you,” Heisenberg said without a pause, “Don’t give it any attention.  Let’s get home.”  His soft voice did nothing to console the father, who scowled at Miranda one last time before leaving.  

—--------------------------

Ethan’s Journal

September 24

I have a phone!  It even gets service at the house, which has already annoyed Heisenberg.  

We had a great day in town.  I saw Chris, or rather, Chris dragged me into some diner to yell at me about bringing the lords back, I guess.  It ended better than it could have.  Not only did I get to finally tell him how I felt, but he understood, I think.  

We got a lot of what we need to start bringing this place back onto the grid.  Plus Evie got her first ice cream…on a cloudy day in September.  I guess it’s perfect.  

Heisenberg and Moreau are going to try their hand at this ritual/surgery to get the crystal fragment out of Donna’s body tomorrow.  I know they’re not saying it, but they’re nervous.  Well, Moreau is always nervous, but he’s the only one who ever saw it done and he knows what to do.  I don’t even want to know how many surgeries Karl has done but since it’s Donna, he’s scared.  

Eva is going to stay with them in case something goes wrong.  I don’t know how it works, but apparently, our bodies will calcify or crystallize as a defense mechanism.  Kind of like dying, temporarily (which happened to me after I lost my heart).  Or, they hope it’ll be temporary.  Eva has the best chance to be the mold ER doc. 

While they do the surgery, I’m going to take Alcina to meet Godric.  I am a little stressed about bringing the girls, but Eva says it’ll be fine.  And I guess both of them sneak off and see him sometimes.  I’d be mad about it but I understand why they do.  

Assuming all goes well with Donna’s fragment, that will only leave Moreau’s.  It feels like we’re finally gaining ground, but I can’t help being scared of whatever this void is I feel…it feels like something is coming, like a storm.  I felt it today before I saw the hag as well as when we got off the train.  I can also hear a voice sometimes, not the regular voices from the Mold (they don’t show up unless I talk to them, usually) but a voice that seems like my own.  It wanted me to out-power Chris today when he was pulling me.  

I’m going to sleep on the couch again tonight…I’m worried.  Alcina did say she would slit my throat if I ‘went feral’......is that her way of being nice to me? I can’t really tell.  

[violetsaffron5]

Psychotherapy

| Taglist | Ao3 | Twitter | Discord 18+ | Series Masterlists |

Pairing: Zenin Naoya x f!Reader

Naoya is forced to go see a therapist to help his attitude so he can find a wife.

Words: 4503

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Spit Kink, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Light Bondage, Light Dom/Sub, Edging, Degradation

Early 2017

You’re on a beach in Malaysia; ocean waves crashing playfully against the shore as you sunbathe on the white sandy beach. Palm trees stand tall and proud, providing just enough shade, dancing ever so slightly with the soft breeze coming off the water.

“What man lets their woman have a job? Is there something wrong with your pussy?”

Birds fly overhead, dipping down to the sea to catch their next meal, feathers illuminated by the rays of the sun. Others sing the song of their people as they pass by, on their way to the next stop with the flock.

“There’s only one thing worse than a woman, and that’s a woman who can read.”

Is this son of a bitch the CEO of misogyny? Holy shit.

Whoever told you to meditate to relax when you have a horrible patient is a goddamn liar because when they open their stupid mouths, it’s ruined. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, finally opening your eyes to find a pair of sharp, cynical brown eyes staring back at you.

If you had realized this session was going to be with Naoya fucking Zen’in, you would have noped your way out of that so fast. This is what you get for not reviewing your case files due to the recent influx of patients.

Be professional. Be professional. Be professional.

“I took many years of-”

“Therapy isn’t a real profession anyway.” The blonde douchebag interrupts, waving you off as he sprawls on the chaise in front of the window in your office.

It took him all of 30 seconds to begin pissing you off. Barging in during your last session with a client demanding his start immediately, all the while using phrases like “do you know who I am?” and “wait until my father hears about this.” You rolled your eyes so hard it’s surprising they aren’t on the floor right now.

The window he’s next to looks out to a beautiful, quiet, wooded scene. If you killed him, nobody would be able to see you bury the body, save for the animals. And they wouldn’t say anything. Most would probably come by to pick at the fleshy parts of his skin, assisting with removing evidence making it harder to identify that it was you who had murdered the heir to the Zen’in clan.

It would be easy. Incredibly so. You’re unsuspecting. There’s nothing stopping you from walking over to him and stabbing your pen right into his eye. People think of you as the quiet shy type, when in reality you choose to keep to yourself to avoid being part of the office gossip, and if you had to admit it, you’re a little tired of all the shit your patients say too, which only adds to the quiet, unsuspecting demeanor.

“I took a psych class once, so I totally understand how to analyze people.”

“It’s not my fault those women are mad. I never agreed to be exclusive.”

“I didn’t kill the men at the fair. My henchmen did.”

If you played your cards right, you could probably talk Satoru Gojo into helping you cover it up. You haven’t seen this yourself, but word around the water cooler is things are so bad between them, that when they’re here for their sessions at the same time (the rare times Gojo actually shows up on time), they have to sit in different waiting rooms.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath and kiss your teeth, choosing to ignore his comment like the goddamn professional you are. You didn’t get your master’s degree to be talked down to by someone with too thick eyeliner and too many piercings looking like a failed alt emo boy.

It’s probably best to ignore his snide remarks and continue with the session. The sooner it gets started, the sooner it can be over, “Naoya, wh-”

“ Master Naoya,” he interjects, clearly annoyed you’re not referring to him the way he deems worthy.

“Right….” There is no way in hell you’re referring to him as ‘Master’ in any lifetime. “Anyway. Whose idea was it for you to be here today?”

You don’t need to review his case file to know why Naoya’s in therapy. Everyone knows. In order to take over as clan head when his father passes, he needs to marry, except he can’t get anyone to agree to it, because he’s literal human trash. Hence the mandatory therapy to try and… remediate some of his issues.

“Isn’t that your “job” to know?” he uses air quotes.

You were hoping if he said it aloud, admitted it, then it would act as a sort of eye opener for him or at least a first step. Looks like that’s not the case, he’s content continuing to be a shitty person.

“This is why women are only good for breeding.” He groans, rolling his eyes.

“Holy shit. What the fuck is your problem?” You ask in disbelief and the words vomit from your lips before you can stop them.

He furrows his brows, turning his head to meet your gaze before eyeing you up and down. He makes a point to stop and stare at your tits and lips, not bothering to meet your eyes again.

“Who do you think you are, speaking to me like that?” He seethes, “a wench like you needs to be put in her place,” he looks you over once again before his lips curl into a wicked smirk. “You’re decent enough looking. I guess I’d be willing to take one for the team to teach you a lesson.”

Fuck professionalism. This guy needs knocked down a peg or ten. “If I wanted a good lay, I’d visit Gojo. Hell, I bet you wouldn’t even measure up to Toji on your best day.”

“I can fuck whores like you ten times better than either of them could,” he spits back.

“I hear Gojo’s a generous lover.” Why bring Gojo into this, specifically? Just to stir the pot. Rile him up and piss him off, just as he’s done to you. Everyone knows the stories of the infamous playboy. Huge cock. Can go all night. Has a strict ladies first policy when it comes to getting off.

“I bet you don’t even know where the clitoris is.” He’s definitely the kind of guy who only cares about only his pleasure; it would come as no surprise if he’s never gotten a woman off before.

He sneers, “every single one of my servants comes crawling back for more.”

“Weird way to say cousins.”

He stares at you, fire burning in his eyes. Anyone else would probably think he looks shocked, and maybe he is, just a little. That a lowly window has the audacity to speak to a sorcerer this way, let alone the next head to one of the big three.

Shit. Are you gonna do this? Are you gonna challenge him so he’ll prove it?

Yes. Yes you are and you can literally feel the feminism ascending out of your body as you make up your mind.

Standing, you unbutton a few buttons from the top of your blouse to accentuate the swells of your breasts and loosen the knot on your ascot, slipping it over your head as you make your way over to Naoya, sliding it down his neck and tightening maybe a little too tight.

Leaning down, warm breath tickling the shell of his ear causing goosebumps to form, you whisper, “prove it.” He wastes no time in grabbing your free hand and placing it on his erection with a pleased smirk.

Of course he’s turned on. Probably thinking you’ll easily submit to him.

As you stroke his clothed cock, he lets out a quiet, satisfied moan as your other hand pulls the ascot a little tighter, no longer worrying if it’s too constricting.

Honestly, if he died, you wouldn’t care. Satisfying for you. Humiliating for him.

“Be a good boy and open wide,” he glares, clenching his jaw in a surprisingly quiet refusal. Letting go of the ascot, you grab him by the hair, forcing his head back until he opens just wide enough for you to gather saliva and spit it in his mouth.

“Swallow.” You demand, his eyes wide with shock. Once he regains his composure, he flips you over, slamming your back against the couch.

“I’m going to fuck your goddamn brains out,” he snaps, “and you’re going to regret spitting in my mouth like a filthy slut.” Naoya grabs one end of the ascot, pulling harshly until it comes untied, tossing it aside and you watch it float to the ground next to the chaise before turning your attention back to him.

There’s tension in the air, as the two of you stare at one another, swallowing thickly before your lips crash together, the sensation immediately sends a jolt between your thighs. The kiss is aggressive and greedy; more tongue and teeth than actual kiss and part of you is still shocked you’re going through with this.

As he pulls away, he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, hard enough to leave a bruise, still trying to prove his dominance over you. Then in a move that takes you off guard, he trails several nips and kisses down your neck and collarbone. While he does this, you lift your hips and pull your pencil skirt up, so he’s not tempted to rip it off, letting it pool at your hips. At this moment, you’re incredibly thankful you wore your lace bra and panties today, even if he doesn’t deserve to see them.

“Spread your legs,” he snarls, forcing them open on his own and slipping two fingers into your aching cunt, making you whimper and arch your back due to lack of proper preparation. He quickly pumps his fingers while angling them perfectly. You let out a quiet whine when he begins to stroke the spot inside that makes you see stars while his thumb grazes teasingly over your clit.

Guess he does know where the clitoris is after all.

“You try to act tough,” he brushes his lips against your cheek and jaw until he kisses a spot below your ear, “yet here you are, so clearly desperate for my cock like the slut you are,” he whispers before clamping down, biting, and sucking at the spot on your neck. Thrashing below him, you try to nudge his head away with your shoulder to get him to let go.

“No marks! Jesus Christ, I don’t want people to know I fucked you!”

He smirks against you, knowing he’s not going to let up, and bites down on the crook of your neck this time. Gasping, you grab him by the hair and pull him away before smacking him, hard, across the cheek as he lets out a loud moan.

“You fucking liked that?” You furrow your brows and narrow your eyes, surprised by that turn of events.

“Shut the fuck up!” He growls, his lips meeting and moving along yours again in an attempt to keep you quiet. And really, you don’t mind as it gets his misogynistic ass to keep quiet as well.

With your mouths busy, his fingers working their godforsaken magic and your hands in his hair, you’re building up for a crash. A tsunami. An unraveling of the greatest proportions… and then he removes his fingers, pulling away from you completely with a cunning grin spread across his stupidly beautiful face.

“Christ, Naoya, I didn’t even cum. How pathetic .” You spit, knowing he’s edging you on purpose for pissing him off, “you sure you can fuck better than Gojo? Because at this point I’m really doubting your skill.”

“You don-”

“Shut up and get undressed. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

He stops and stares at you incredulously, “You’re the wo-”

“I’m not going to undress you. Do you want your dick sucked or not?”

Finally, finally , he closes his mouth and begins to undress from his kimono, as you take the opportunity to remove your own clothes as well.

Once the two of you are undressed, you push him onto the chair so he’s sitting; before lowering yourself to your knees, you take a moment to admire his body.

He’s leaner than you anticipated, and unbelievably toned – similar to a gymnast. Naoya has a pretty face, there’s no denying that, but having an equally pretty cock is just unfair. Standing painfully hard against his abdomen, the tip flushed red, already leaking precum. He’s average girth, but the length is impressive alone.

Based on his ears, you anticipated some sort of genital piercing, like a Jacob’s Ladder – something he could never pull off. But instead, he has a Prince Albert, which has you practically drooling at the sight.

However, that nice surprise is immediately negated by the intricate tribal tattoos with thick swirl patterns laying along one shoulder and down the left side of his chest. On the other arm lays a single thin barbed wire tattoo in the center of his bicep.

God . How incredibly douchey.

“Look at me.” You command as you sink between his legs, “you think this is where I belong, don’t you?” Grabbing his cock with a firm grip you stroke excruciatingly slow as he emits a loud moan and squirms beneath your grasp, “on my knees, between your legs. But don’t forget,” you give a small kitten lick over his tip, “I’m choosing to do this.”

You move a hand to squeeze his balls as you slide your lips over his tip and hollow your cheeks. As you expected, his hand immediately tangles into your hair, gripping tight. You have just enough time to relax your throat before he slams your head to meet his neatly trimmed groin.

As you gag and sputter with his length at the back of your throat, spit pools and dribble from your mouth, coating the lower half of his dick you’re unable to fit in your mouth. He tightens his grip, so tight, there’s no doubt he will have several ripped off hairs laced between his fingers by the time he finally lets go. He pulls back, just enough to give you a second to catch your breath before slamming you back down, nose to groin, repeatedly. Recklessly.

Tears begin to well in the corner of your eyes as he lifts his hips to meet the back of your throat, where you’re sure he’s bound to leave bruises.

“Fuck, that’s good. This is what you were meant for.” He throws his head back, eyes closed relishing the feeling of taking control of the situation.

There isn’t a lot you can do in this compromising position, so you let your teeth graze his cock in a little act of defiance as he continues to force your head up and down. He lets out a mix of stifled moans and angry grunts at the feeling before pulling your mouth off of him, bringing your gaze to meet him.

“No teeth, bitch!” He spits before slamming your head back down his length, continuing to force you to deepthroat him with every thrust. After a few minutes, his thighs begin to shake and a strained groan leaves his lips as he bucks his hips up, causing you to choke as ropes of cum slide down your throat.

“You better swallow every last drop,” he pants, “a filthy whore like you should be grateful for getting to have Zen’in seed inside you.”

After you swallow around him, to the best of your abilities, he releases your head and you make your way to the surface gasping for air, working to recover quickly. At this point, he owes you several orgasms and you’re determined to get them.

You would lean up and kiss him right now, forcing him back on the sofa so you can ride his face, but he seems like the kind of guy who would relish the taste of his own cum – the taste of his precious Zen’in DNA. Grabbing your panties from the floor, you spit the remaining essence of him into them and toss them back down.

Standing, you place your palms on his shoulders and shove him onto the chaise, throwing one leg over his chest to straddle him.

“Why don’t you shut up, put your mouth to good use for once and try to make me cum this time.”

His eyes are bright and filled with equal parts rage and hunger as he grabs you, forcing you forward over his face. He wastes no time in pulling you down so his lips can connect with your pussy in a lewd, loud, wet kiss before slipping his tongue deep inside.

Naoya forces you down in the most awkward position; one leg folded, next to his face while the other is on the floor, helping balance yourself as you move your hips against his face, softly whining each time his nose gently grazes your clit.

He digs his nails into the fleshy part of your hips, you told him no marks earlier, and this is likely bruise; at least these can be easily hidden. While gripping tighter, he lifts you slightly to adjust himself beneath you to let his tongue trail around your clit. As you shudder, he latches on, focusing all of his attention into that one spot.

He’s not interested in exploring, like a lot of other guys, oh no. He found this spot and he’s going to stay there until you completely come undone for him. You’ll give credit where it’s due – and it is due. He’s a devil with his tongue.

He might be the devil himself, but that’s a note to take away for a different session.

As he obscenely sucks, you let out a series of high-pitched moans and continue to roll your hips on his face, your release fast approaching.

He chuckles at your neediness, the vibrations traveling through you, making your toes curl and the world comes crashing down as you bite your own lip, trying not to yell out profanities as you cum, drenching his mouth with your fluids as he laps around.

Naoya continues to hold onto your hips, preventing you from straying away as your legs shake and squeeze in around him, instinctively trying to suffocate him. He hums appreciatively of everything your body’s offered, likely boosting his already inflated ego, before loosening his grip, allowing you to move back to his chest to recover.

As he licks his lips, determined not to waste any of your essence, you scoot back further, the apex of your thighs resting on his hard dick. Teasing him, you roll your hips several times allowing yourself to grind on his length.

He groans, trying to grab your hips to lift you but you swat him away, set on maintaining your teasing, allowing the tip to brush against your entrance several times.

“Fuck! Just get on my cock already!” It was so nice when he was quiet while you were riding his face. Unfortunately now, his mouth isn’t busy doing the one good thing it could do.

Looking to the ground, you spot your discarded ascot and panties next to each other and get an idea. Leaning down, you grab the ascot first and gather his hands, swiftlet knotting the scarf around his wrists and lifting them over his head. There is an old radiator in your office next to the sofa, so you tie his hands to that.

“You stupid bitch, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He scowls.

Realistically, he could easily break out of this restraint if he wanted to, but despite his angry words, he makes no effort to move as you tug on the fabric, making sure it will hold.

“I liked it better when you didn’t talk,” you state calmly, leaning down and grabbing the spit and cum filled panties from the ground.

“You worthless brat! You’re go-” he’s cut off by the crack of your palm meeting his cheek, the sound drowned out by the deep groan he emits. You take the opportunity of his distraction to shove the defiled panties into his mouth. His eyes widen in disbelief once again as the rest of his groan is muffled.

“Much better,” you sigh with relief, knowing you won’t have to listen to him again until you decide to remove the gag. Or if he gets impatient and breaks the restraints, but that’s a thought for if it happens.

Lifting yourself, you grab his cock and place the tip at your entrance, allowing yourself to slowly sink down.

“ Fuuuuuck ,” you whine at the feeling of being stretched and filled until your plush ass meets his hips.

Naoya would probably be saying something right now about how your pussy feels so good, but instead he lets out several loud stifled sounds as his eyes roll to the back of his head. You don’t bother starting off slow, instead you chase the high you were denied from his hands earlier, ruthlessly riding his dick.

“Gonna use you like my own little fuck toy,” you grind your hips further into his, “how’s that make y-you feel, Zen’in? Hm?” You ask breathlessly, riding up and down his length, “does it make you f-feel worthless? Like less of a man?”

Looking him over, his pupils are blown, filled with lust and loathing as you roll your hips, finding the angle that provides you with the most pleasure. His cheeks are pink, extending across his nose to the tips of his ears, and down to the top of his chest. Lips are kiss swollen and black eyeliner smudged around his eye from sweat, hair sticking to his forehead.

Once you find your rhythm you decide to give another resounding slap to his other cheek, so both sides match as he grunts with pleasure. Letting your hands fall to his shoulders, he fucks into you as you drag your nails down his chest with each thrust, hard enough to leave marks, you’re sure.

Trailing your hands up your body to your breasts, you message them as your nipples harden, pinching and rolling them between your fingers. Naoya hums in delight watching intently while your slick coats his length, covering his balls.

As his cock rubs against the sensitive spot on your insides, your breath quickens and legs shake beneath you each time your clit brushes against his groin with every roll of your hips. It doesn’t take long for the waves of pleasure to course through your body.

He thrashes against the radiator forgetting his hands are tied as you cream on his cock for the first time, clamping around him so hard you might as well be trying to milk him for all he’s worth.

Which isn’t a lot, in your opinion.

“How do you like being the bitch for once?” You pant; this spurs him on to adjust his legs and pulls his arms, still connected to the radiator. He bucks his hips up several times eliciting several moans from you as his cock kisses your cervix in the most delicious way.

“Tell me, pretty boy, what is it you really want?” you question, genuinely wanting to know since he treats everyone like they’re beneath him. This is supposed to be a therapy session after all, so might as well see what you can get out of him, right?

He tries to speak, but it’s muted due to the panties so you remove them and toss them aside. He pants, trying to catch his breath as his hips piston hard and deep, punctuating each point.

“Someone to obey,” thrust , “and someone to ruin,” thrust .

You yelp with each of his thrusts, trying to make a mental note to remember his answer for a later session. You continue to erratically bounce on him, meeting each of his steady thrusts with a loud slap, skin on skin, filling your otherwise quiet workspace.

“Don’t cum,” he demands as he feels your pussy gripping around his cock.

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” you shoot back, both hands on his chest as he continues to pump mercilessly into you until the coil in your stomach snaps and breaks, walls pulsating around him, vision blurred white as you cum around him.

The feeling of you clamping down causes him to bite his lip and arch his back; knowing he’s going to be cumming soon too, you quickly remove yourself from him sitting back on his thighs. His eyes widen as he looks at you like you’ve betrayed him – it’s bad enough you’re fucking him, but there’s no way in hell you’ll let him cum inside you.

You’ll never admit it to him, but he was a good fuck, maybe still not as good as Gojo would have been, but still good nonetheless, so you’ll let him cum.

“No way I’m gonna be stuck around you for years,” you explain as you grab his length, stroking vigorously until his eyes roll to the back of his head and he lets out several deep strangled moans, pulling hard on the radiator, as his precious Zen’in seed covers his chest.

After you catch your breath, you remove yourself from his legs and search for your clothes on the floor. Finding the panties that are soaked in both your spit, you toss them into the trash under your desk; you’ll need to remember to empty that before you leave, so nobody accidently sees them.

“If you take anything away from this, it should be that you don’t need to be in charge of everything. You might be surprised just how freeing that can truly be.” You try to explain as you untie his hands; he continues to lay on the chaise, catching his breath rolling out his wrists, “you can use the bathroom over there to clean yourself and get dressed. Be back in five minutes for the rest of your session.”

“Fucking psycho bitch,” he mutters to himself as he begrudgingly stands and stalks off to the bathroom with his clothes while his cum drips from his chest down to his abdomen.

You decide to ignore his comment and choose to take a deep breath instead and get dressed too. After straightening your skirt and slipping your shoes back on, you take your seat across from the chaise once again.

When Naoya returns, seven minutes later, you note, he takes his seat. Looking him over, his cheeks are still tinged pink, hair more romantically tousled than dishevel-

Nope. Good god, get those thoughts out of your brain right now. This is not going to be a thing.

Sighing, you grab the legal pad from the coffee table between the two of you and click the top of the pen, ready to write. His session is over in about 20 minutes. Let’s see how painful we can continue to make this for him.

“So, Naoya, tell me about your mother.”

[doodler-jpeg]

Life [Wilbur Soot/Fundy]

BOOOM HI HELLO HOW ARE YOU UH UM SO I WAS INSPIRED WHILE I WAS BORED AND THEN THIS IS HOW THIS ONESHOT CAME TO BE. ITS NOT GOOD, BUT ITS DECENT. You’re gonna be taking Sally’s place so, uh, I’m sorry, Sally, you’re just another salmon. Still love you though  THIS TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE DEAR GOD ITS BEEN IN THE WORKS FOR LIKE A MONTH LMAO

ALSO, KEEP IN MIND THIS IS C!WILBUR/SMP!WILBUR

⚠️CUSSING, AFAB READER, PREGNANCY, THIS IS A REALLY LONG ONE SHOT OH MY GOD, PLATONIC FUNDY RELATIONSHIP SO YEAH⚠️

Pronouns: she/her or they/them [you’re referred to as wife, mom,, that stuff, but you can change those if you want]

You hummed as you strained out your clothing beside the river near your home. A smile graced your face, [Eye Colour] eyes glinting happily in the warm sunlight of that fine summer day. Autumn would soon turn the land into a seemingly barren wasteland, though, so you decided to savor every last bit of happiness the hot days brought you. 

Hanging the large amount of clothing upon thin clothing lines, you dumped out your bucket and made sure nothing got in the lake. Walking back inside of your home, you set the buckets in the corner of the cozy cottage and walked back outside. Your brown boots thudded quietly against the cobblestone path that lead into the woods around your home that would eventually be covered in snow.

A sudden childish giggle made you turn to the fields that were a ways away from your house, right in front of the sparsely scattered trees to the right of your little house. You furrowed your brows in confusion as a blur of yellow, white, and red rushed over to you.

“Hello there.” You couldn’t help but stare as the child looked up at you silently. “What are you doing here, little one?” He only blushed, his face flushing a vivid red before he ran off. You shrugged and continued your trek into the forest.

//

You watched as flakes of snow fell delicately onto the muted green coloured grass, bundled tightly in a burrito of quilts that you and your mother has made together. You shuffled slightly from your position on your warm bed, closing your eyes as you waited for sleep to consume you.

It seemed life had other plans, though, as a faint light came toward your home, edging closer and closer until you could make out a figure, their clothing a great contrast to the paw snow. They were shivering visibly, clutching their arms as their lantern shook in their hand.

You frowned as you peeled your blankets off of you, pulling your boots on quickly. Grabbing a lantern cage, you lit the candle inside of it and hurried outside, feeling nervous as the figure hurried over to you.

Soon enough, they were standing in front of you, a miserable look on their face, their eyes red and puffy as their teeth chattered together.

“Come inside,” you didn’t care for introductions or your safety. This person seemed nice. “I’ll start a fire. Uh- there should be a few blankets on the sofa. Would you like anything to drink? Warm milk, tea? I’m not gonna offer coffee because it’s late, so I’m sorry about that.”

“Just water, please,” they croaked out. “I’m sorry for the intrusion. I was headed off in search of territory to claim. Turns out I chose the wrong day. God, it’s cold.” You let out a quiet laugh as you carefully tossed some wood into your fireplace, lighting the material on fire. Almost immediately, the flames grew and you sat up, placing your flint and steel on the fireplace mantle.

“I’ll go get you your water. Go warm up.” You urged before you walked into the kitchen to get the brunet some water.

//

““And then Tommy ran off!” Wilbur howled with laughter as he told the story of how he managed to lose his father in the forest close to his family home. ““Phil was looking for us for hours!” You smiled at the story as you carefully sewed up your friend’s heavy coat, making sure the patches were relatively the same colour as the rest of the jacket.

“You never really tell me about your family, so why are you telling stories now?” You commented, threading the needle in your hand through the fabric and back out of it, pulling the thread tightly. You snipped it with your scissors, placing the needle down to look for any other holes as Wilbur flushed a bright red.

“W-well— one day, I want you to meet my family, so- this sounds so fucking stupid. Never mind, forget about it.” He covered his face in his hands as you bummed, picking up a patch and laying it out on the brown fabric.

“What you’re saying is that you would introduce me to your family because you like me that much, huh?” No answer came from Wilbur, though he did let out a flustered groan as you chortled.

//

You placed a kiss upon your new boyfriend’s cheek, causing the brunet to laugh as he shrunk away from your lips

“Stop it,” you only grinned at the man, kissing various areas of his face in retaliation. Wilbur laughed harder, pushing you away gently as his face scrunched. ““It tickles!”

You grabbed his face in your hands and he looked into your eyes for a moment before you began attacking his face with kisses. When you pulled back for a break, Wilbur copied your actions from earlier and rubbed his thumb across your cheeks with a smile. He leaned his forehead on yours and let out a breathy sigh, closing his eyes as he basked in the moment.

“I love you so fucking much, [Y/N].”

//

““Dont be scared, darling,” Wilbur mused as he gently rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of your hand, lightly squeezing every few rotations. “Techno’s made sure to keep any weapons away and Tommy might be a little less wreckless. I’ll make sure to tell them during dinner.” You nodded uncertainly, playing nervously with the bracelet Wilbur had made you way back when the two of you first started as friends.

Wilbur rapped his knuckles on the door, his other hand never once letting go of yours as the two of you waited. A bit of shouting was heard through the door, slightly muffled, though it was evident that it was coming closer.

The door was flung open by a blond boy, his blue eyes shooting us to meet Wil’s not even a second after he opened the door. A grin was on the boys face as he turned and shouted for Phil [who Wilbur had told you was his father]. Soon enough, a blond man with a bucket hat trodden over, frowning at Tommy.

“Listen, motherfucker, you may be living here, but I’m not gonna fucking let you live if you keep fuckin shoutin.” You froze nervously and glanced over at your boyfriend. He just sent a small, awkward smile onto reassure you before he turned to look down at the two.

“Are you really gonna argue in front of my wife?” Wilbur piped in, feeling himself become giddy as Tommy and Phil shot their heads over to look at you.

“You brought a girl over?!” Tommy yelled in surprise as he stumbled back, eyes wide as he observed your movements skeptically.

“Wil? Can you come over here real quick? I just need to talk to you.” Phil forced a smile as he grabbed the taller man’s ear and yoinked him over to a different room, leaving Tommy and you alone.

“Hi,” you smiled nervously, raising a hand in a half assed wave.

“Do you happen to be American?” The blond asked, leaning his face over to stare at you.

“I mean- I’m a water nymph. I don’t really know if that counts because we usually just have different accents, but we never take into account where anyone’s from.” You laughed, scratching your cheek.

“Well where are you from?” Tommy urged, crossing his arms.

“To be specific, I came from the North Sea right by the Netherlands. I don’t really think that’s important though.” You shrugged.

“So you’re Dutch? Speak it.”

“Im not necessarily Dutch, I was just born in the North Sea, Tommy- I think you’re a Tommy. You seem like a Tommy.” You cleared up, ““The only reason I learned English was to communicate with certain humans.”

“Okay.” The boy sighed, shoulders slumping forward as you let out an amused chortle, “I’ll leave you alone. For now.” Tommy backed up, turning into a room while a big, burly pig person ducked under the doorway, a large sword in hand and an uninterested expression on his face. As he turned to the door, he spotted you and his eyes widened momentarily before going back to their half lidded position.

“Who’re you? Phil didn’t- oh. Oh, today was that day. Oh my god, how could I forget it?” The hybrid smacked his forehead harshly, ““I’m so sorry.”

You laughed, waving your hand dismissively as the pig moved to the side to let you in. You carefully stepped into the warm house and the tall hybrid closed the door behind you.

“Dinner’s nearly done, so you can go sit down in the living room. If you need anything, Phil has ears all over the place. Just look at those crows.” Techno motioned over to the few crows that perched themselves on the window, letting out quiet caws. You waved at the birds and they flapped their wings in response.

“They seem nice.”

//

You sat next to your husband, hand intertwined with his as Phil smiled over at the two of you.

“So, anything new happening with you two?” The blond man inquired, placing his hands on the table. 

““I mean,” Wilbur laughed, turning over to look at you. “Would you like to tell them, dear?” You nodded, a grin on your face as you sat as straight as you could.

“I’m pregnant,” you said, your voice surprisingly calm. Tommy let out a shocked ‘‘what the fuck??’, while Techno choked on his food, slamming a fist onto his chest.

Phil was quiet, eyes wide in shock as he took in the information.

“Pregnant? With Wilbur’s kid?” You nodded, swinging Wilbur’s hand as Tommy cheered.

“Im gonna be a fuckin uncle! Yeah! I’ll be the best damn uncle ever!” He cackled, leaning back as Techno snorted.

““Can I teach them PvP?” You and your husband glanced over at each other before shaking your head.

“Maybe when they’re old enough to know what they’re doing.”

//

““Hello, my precious baby,” you cooed gently, holding the newborn as they let out a quiet sigh. ““My baby. You look just like your father.” A warm but tired smile was on your face as your baby opened their eyes, brown meeting [Eye Colour].

“Love, is the baby okay? Is she doing alright?” Wilbur called nervously through the door, to which you laughed.

“Yes, they’re doing great,” placing a gentle kiss on the baby’s nose, they brought a hand up and lightly tapped their nose.

//

““Fundy! Come here!” You cheered, reaching your arms out to the toddler. They giggled, waddling over to you. Their scab covered knees were littered with bandages and the red overalls they wore were much unlike what Wilburs would have wanted your child to wear, but it was your kid! They deserved the best!

““My precious baby,” you placed a kiss on their cheek, causing the brown haired child to giggle and wipe the kiss from their cheek. You grinned, littering their face in kisses as they squirmed, ““My little champion!”

“Yah! Cham-champion!” They babbled, bringing up a finger to chew on as you set them down and smoothed out your dress. 

““Alright, sweetheart, papa will be here soon, so make sure to tell him what you want to tell him, alright?” Your boy nodded, a goofy grin on his face as he reached over to one of the toys you had brought.

//

You cradled your son’s head as he sobbed, shaking his head in denial as to what had just happened.

“He-he’s gone, mama!” He choked out, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His tears stained your shirt, though the feeling didn’t bother you as you rocked your son back and forth, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Fundy, it’s okay,” you cooed, ““He doesn’t have to live with all the mistakes he made in the past anymore. Who knows, maybe he’ll come back?” 

““But what if he doesn’t? That was his last life and- and it’s gone! My dad’s gone!” Letting out a pained wail, he continued to sob. And you let him.

He had gone through so much.

//

““Who the hell are you and what are you doing around my son?” You sneered, standing in front of your son as the transparent figure stared at you curiously.

“You don’t remember me?” They asked, voice echoing as they tilted your head. “I- [Y/N], it’s me! Your husband! I- I am your husband, right?”

“My husband didn’t push away his son and focus on a failed country more than his own fucking family.” You loaded your crossbow, aiming it at the ghost. ““You didn’t come to his birthday parties, didn’t get him anything, you barely paid attention to him when your country was in the spotlight! You’re no husband to me.”

“Mama-” Fundy gulped nervously, ““Mama, please.”

“You know what, whoever the fuck you are? You’re no damn husband to me and you never will be. Now leave me and my son alone, for fuck’s sake.”

The ghost was silent as you turned, leading the man beside you toward the house at the top of the hill, though a small smile made its way onto his face.

“She’s the one I married?” He murmured, moving his hand to where his heart was, “Was she really the love of my life?”

[one-sad-human]

•Sweet Confessions• Izzy Stradlin

Pairing: Izzy Stradlin x Reader

Requested? Nope! But they are open so send them in!

Theme: Fluff

Warnings: Language, alcohol references, and sexual references

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: It’s Izzy birthday!! This fic isn’t birthday related, I finished it last week and decided to post it for his birthday. Enjoy!

The band dragged you out for a night at the bar. Just for a couple drinks to celebrate their successful debut album. But with Guns m Roses, it was never just a few drinks, it had already been two hours.

The band had been your friends since they all got together. You grew up in Indiana with Axl and Izzy, and when they left for LA you weren't too far behind. You had been there for everything. Every lineup change, every argument, and every borrowed— stolen— instrument.

You were their best friend, someone that was valuable to all of them. However, you and Izzy always had a special bond. You and him always clicked, one was never far from the other. Like partners in crime.

Like now, Izzy sat next to you in the booth. His lanky arm was resting around your shoulders, an action that wasn't at all rare. Axl is next to him, watching some blond that's barely dressed near the bar.

     You and Izzy are the only somewhat sober ones here. Izzy just wasn't in the mood to get wasted, and you had work in the morning and didn't feel like having a huge hangover. However, that doesn't mean you can't have a few drinks.

"I'm going to go grab another drink," you say after tapping Izzy's arm to gain his attention. He nods and lifts his arm off of your shoulders.

Axl takes his eyes off of the busty blonde he had been gawking at to look at his friend. Axl notices how Izzy's eyes follow your every movement.

"You're being a creep," he tells him. Izzy spares a glance at him and shakes his head.

"I'm just makin' sure she's alright." Axl grabs his beer bottle, his rings clinking on the glass.

"You're watching her like a goddamn hawk." He takes a sip of his drink. "She's a tough girl, she'll be ok if someone hits on her."

"Well maybe I don't want anyone hitting on her," Izzy says. He finally takes his eyes from you to glare at his red headed friend. Axl takes a moment to stare at Izzy.

"You need to just tell her you're in fucking love with her. Seriously, it's getting hard to watch." Izzy rolls his eyes again and takes a sip of his drink. He hates how Axl can always see right through him.

"I'm not in love with her," Izzy says. Axl just stares at him, giving him a very unconvinced look. Izzy pretends to not see him, staring at the bottom of his glass.

     "I don't believe you. You love her, and she's obviously in love with you, too, so just fucking tell her." Izzy continues to stare at the bottom of his glass, but he questions if you really could feel the same about him.

"What are you two talking about?" You ask as you take your spot next to Izzy, now nursing another drink.

"Nothing, Axl's just being a dick."

     "What else is new?" You ask teasingly. Axl flips you the bird and you shrug in response.

     "I was just telling Izzy that he should just man up and tell this chick that he likes her," Axl says, sending Izzy a discreet pointed look. You cover up the hurt you felt in your chest and put on a fake smile.

     "You like a girl? Who?" You ask Izzy.

     "It's nothing, Y/N. Drop it," Izzy says with irritation. You narrow your eyes at the sudden aggression, but don't push.

     "Fine, damn." Axl shakes his head. How he got stuck with such an idiot friend he doesn't know. Steven groans and lifts his head from the table.

"Have a nice nap, popcorn?" Axl asks Steven with a smirk. Steven groans again and places his head back down on the wooden table.

     Duff and Slash both walk out of the women's bathroom, a woman following closely behind. She looks disheveled, her hair is messy and her dress strap is hanging off her shoulder but she has a satisfied smirk on her face.

     "I'm beat, I'm going home," Duff says while still trying to put his belt on properly. Slash grabs his leather jacket and follows Duff out of the bar, throwing a wave and smile over to you before he leaves.

     "So that's where they've been," you say. The images of Slash and Duff going at the same girl was enough to make you shiver in disgust.

     "Lucky bastards," Axl says with jealousy. "I'm done sitting around, catch you later." Axl pushes through you and Izzy and makes his way to the girl he's been eyeing all night.

     "I'm tired, too," you say and finish off your drink. "You want to walk me home?"

     Izzy nods and you both stand. Izzy follows you out the door without a word. After a few minutes of walking in silence, you finally look over at him.

     "Are you ok?" Izzy glances at you for a split second.

     "I'm fine." You aren't convinced. You knew Izzy for practically all his life, you know when something is on his mind.

     "You know you can't lie to me, what's wrong?" Izzy sighs and shakes his head.

     "Nothing, I promise. I'm just thinking," he says without sparing a glance at you.

     "About what? That girl you like?" It hurt to just spit out the words.

     Izzy wants to just tell you 'yes,' he is thinking about the girl but that it's you, and how he doesn't like her he loves her. But he has no clue how you'd react, so he just stays quiet.

     "Well, whatever you want to say I'm here to listen," you say and send him a smile. Izzy grabs your hand and gives it a small squeeze.

     "I know you are. I'm fine though, really." You sigh and nod your head. He doesn't let go of your hand until you reach the door to your house.

     "You want to stay over tonight? It's pretty late and your house is kind of far," you ask. Izzy nods and you both walk into your small home.

     Izzy makes himself comfortable in your living room while you make yourself a cup of tea. He takes a moment to look at the pictures of you and him on the walls.

     Some were old, the picture frames barely concealing the rips and tears in the corners. Those were from back in Indiana, riding dirt bikes and getting high near the train tracks. But some were new, with the whole band out drinking or photos you took while they were on stage.

     "Day dreaming?" You ask as you sit next to him on your old, worn out couch, now with a cup of tea.

     "I was looking at all the pictures." Izzy points to one of the newer ones, It was of you and him after one of his first shows with Guns. You were hanging onto him and giving him a huge grin, one he matched. "I don't remember that one."

     "Axl took that one, he gave it to me because he said he's never seen you so happy." You say, smiling at the memory. "It's my favorite of you."

     Axl's earlier words replay in Izzy's head. Friends don't look at each other like that, do they? You most certainly don't look at Axl or Duff like that, he would know.

     "Speaking of Axl," Izzy starts, clearing his throat awkwardly. "He mentioned something to me earlier..." Izzy stops short, nervous to mention it.

"Well, what did he say?" You ask, nodding so he continues.

"He said you're in love with me, is it true?" Izzy asks, but it sounds much more interrogatory than he meant.

You stay silent for a while, your mouth parting before snapping shut again. You look like a gaping fish of some sort.

"He blabbed?" Is all you could muster out. "I'm sorry, I know you probably don't feel the same and that's fine, that's why I never said anything and—"

     "Hey, hey, relax, I'm asking because I do feel the same." Your jaw snaps shut, your face feels hot and your hands are sweaty.

     "Seriously? I’m the girl you like?” You mumble.

     "Yes, you are," Izzy replies, feeling relief that Axl was right flood through his veins. You and Izzy both sit and silence for a moment longer.

     "So are you going to kiss me or what?" You say teasingly, although it's accompanied by a nervous waver in your voice. Izzy doesn't acknowledge it, instead leaning in to smash his lips to yours.

     The kiss is full of passion and built up emotions. You can't help but think about how long you've dreamed of this moment.

     Izzy pulls away moments later, his brown staring deeply into yours. His eyes silently asking if this was ok. You answer with a small smile and lean in to peck his cheek softly. Izzy smiles back, bringing up his hand to gently caress your face.

     "I love you," you say quietly.

     "I love you, too." You pull him in for another kiss, and Izzy begins to think about how he loves the thought of waking up next to you and how every other sappy domestic thing he used to roll he eyes at seem much nicer.

     More time passes and you and Izzy have both laid down on the couch, cuddling into earth other lovingly. Your cup of tea is abandoned as you fall asleep to the feeling of Izzy's chest rising and falling under your head and his soft caresses.

[from-seas-to-skies]

Farm Grown / Hawks x Reader ♕︎

uwu, I had the lovely @weirddpand4 draw this picture of cowboy Hawks for this work!!!

warnings: NSFW, spanking, cream pie

words: 4,802

-

“Oh, wow! Look at that! I’ve never seen grass so green before!” your friend, Urakaka Ochaco, exclaims.

Glancing up from your phone, you follow her line of vision; gracious hills of rich green grass stretch out far into the horizon, meeting with the brilliant shade of blue. It’s so unlike the skyscrapers and closely-knit houses you’re used to seeing. No, this is what pure beauty looks like, Mother Nature in one of her most wonderful forms. Although the fields are dotted with wildflowers and corn fields, you don’t miss the dirt road further up ahead, a large wooden sign planted next to it.

When Ochaco originally came to you with the idea of being a farmhand, you thought she was crazy. You’ve finally graduated from high school, got the title of professional hero, and this is the first thing she wanted to do? However, as she further explained, it was a family friend who needed help during the summer months, and what were heroes for? Granted, you wanted to run around the cement jungle and provide help that way, but this “almost vacation” didn’t sound too bad – plus, with the puppy eyes Ochaco flashed at you, it was impossible to say no.

And so, here you are, sitting in the passenger side of a coupe with Ochaco behind the wheel. You have to admit; the surrounding atmosphere is beautiful, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to run barefoot through the grass. Clouds of dust rise as the car eventually comes to a stop outside of a weathered farmhouse. Ochako flashes you a smile, her large eyes twinkling.

“Look at how huge this place is! I know Uncle Iroh said he had a couple people helping out, but this is incredible! We’ll each have our own room!”

You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. Ochaco’s always been easy to rile up, and the fact that she’s genuinely excited to spend quality “bonding time” with you is heartwarming. As the two of you step out of the car, the front door to the farmhouse opens, revealing an elderly man with a long beard and a kind expression. His face cracks into a smile when he and Ochaco make eye contact; the two hurry towards each other, warm greetings and bone-crushing hugs being shared between the two. It’s no wonder Ochaco was so excited to spend the summer here; with a relationship like that, you’d be happy to see the man too.

“Oh, come, come!” Iroh says, hurrying around the car and popping the trunk open. “You must be Ochaco’s friend, yes?” he asks, looking towards you. A wave of pleasant warmth washes over your being as he sends you that charming smile. “I appreciate the help! I only have my nephew and another man working here already, but the extra hands will come in handy.” He pauses then to chuckle at his own joke. “But I think it’s about you two get settled, yeah?”

“Right!” you respond, pulling out your own suitcase.

As you walk up towards the wraparound porch, you glance to the other trucks sitting out in front of the farmhouse. Iroh said two others were already here, so you figured the trucks must be theirs…

“Zuko!” Iroh booms. “Our guests are here!”

After a moment or so, a boy around your age staggers from the kitchen, a tray in his hands. From the looks of it, a teapot and some cups line its surface.

“Tea is our specialty, here,” Iroh says, nudging you with your shoulder. “Get something to drink and then we’ll show you your rooms.”

-

Later on that evening, you’re gazing out your window, watching the sun fall. Hues of orange, peach, and lilac paint the sky, bidding the world goodbye for the night. It’s definitely different to experience it here than back home, back where silhouettes were outlined by the golden glow. A steady breeze carries on, carrying the scent of wildflowers and musk; your curtains flap from the sheer force of it, but you pay it no mind. It’s like Ochaco brought you to a slice of paradise, even if it’s with the intention of putting in labor.

In the distance, you hear calls and the distinguished moos of cows. Shifting your gaze, you catch a herd of cows being moved towards a barn; a man riding a brown horse wrangles them in, a border collie by his side. The way he pulls it off is smooth, and it’s clear that he’s used to pulling such a feat. However, what really catches your attention is the pair of magnificent scarlet wings protruding from his back. Now, you’re used to seeing some rather flashy quirks, but this guy’s is just… Wow.

“Hey, Uncle Iroh wanted me to come get you,” Ochaco’s voice says suddenly. Turning around, you see her standing in the doorway, a pleasant expression playing on her face. “We’re having oyakodon for dinner! Doesn’t a hot meal sound delicious?” And, as if to amp up your spirits, Ochaco licks her lips and pats her tummy. “I’m so hungry from a long drive!”

You huff in amusement. “Yeah, I am too.” Turning around, you catch a glimpse of the cows disappearing into the barn, that mysterious cowboy stationed by the doors. “Hey, Ochaco,” you start before realizing it, “but who’s that other guy that lives here? The one with the wings?”

Walking over to where you stand, Ochaco peers out the window, following your line of sight. “Oh, him? That’s Keigo. Uncle Iroh says he’s only been here for the past year or so, but he’s really good at what he does! I heard all the animals like him a lot – maybe it’s because of the wings?”

“Don’t you think it’s… odd that’s only a farmhand? With a quirk like that, you’d think he’d be doing something else.”

Ochaco shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe you should ask him sometime? Oh, but I’m really hungry! Can we go eat, now?”

“Yeah, sorry, I just got distracted…”

And so, you soon find yourself sitting at a sturdy wooden table, a bowl of oyakodon sitting before you. It smells utterly delicious - and paired with the tea Iroh brewed, you know you’re in for a treat. Just then, you hear a door opening and closing; there’s a chatter of some sorts, but then there he is, right there in the flesh.

Strong build, wide shoulders, blond hair that looks permanently tousled, and oh yes, those magnificent wings. Perhaps you shouldn’t be staring so much, but the sharp line of his jaw and intense eyes make it nearly impossible to look away. You’ve heard of such things, read about them in stories, but maybe, just maybe, you might’ve fallen for the guy at first sight. That, or he’s just too damn attractive for his own good.

“Howdy! Oh, shit, who are these two cuties?”

Or maybe not.

“Oi! Keigo! Can’t you be respectful for once in your life?” Iroh barks, popping around the other. He scowls as he slaps a wing out of his way. “Make a good impression for yourself. These two are going to be here for the rest of the summer, so don’t be an ass.”

“C’mon, gramps,” Keigo drawls, “you know I’m better than that. Plus, if they don’t like my attitude, then it’s not really my fault, huh?”

“Nothing ever changes,” Zuko says lowly, his words followed by a deep sigh.

You and Ochaco share a look. It seems like your Prince Charming is nothing more than a sarcastic asshat. How befitting.

“Liven up, birdies,” Keigo says, sliding into the chair directly across from you. “I don’t bite.” He winks at you. “Yet.”

Your entire body jolts at his proclamation. This guy really is shameless, isn’t he? Still, you can’t help but feel undeniably attracted to him. Curse his charisma, dammit.

“Aw, sweet! Is this oyakodon? Hell yeah.”

To the side, Zuko facepalms. Iroh merely chuckles and shakes his head, much like he’s way too used to this kind of behavior and has accepted it as it is. Hell, even Ochako cracks a smile. You, on the other hand, stare at Keigo in confusion. He has a bird-based quirk, doesn’t he? Does it not bother him to not eat chicken…?

Keigo puts up a hand, an amused glint in his eyes. “Look, I already know what you’re gonna ask, kid. I can practically see the gears spinning in that pretty head of yours. I fucking love chicken.”

Oh… Well, that takes care of that, doesn’t it…

-

After that first fateful encounter, you’ve grown used to Keigo’s ways. It’s funny, though, how he and Zuko’s personalities basically sit on either end of the spectrum, yet Iroh treats the both of them like they’re his children. While Zuko is serious and straight-laced, Keigo is more of a chatty free spirit. That said, you’ve also gotten used to Keigo’s flirty side. You suspect it’s because he likes to get a rise out of everyone. Whether that’s the case or not, your eyes often wander after him, stare down the hard lines of his back. Even better, you itch to trail your lips over the scruff lining his jaw. The guy’s too damn hot and he knows it.

Over the past month, a game of cat and mouse has started between the two of you. Him, trying to act all chummy and overstepping numerous boundaries. You, trying not to give into the weird relationship that’s bloomed between you and him. Sure, you might have flirted back, but what were you supposed to do? After all, Keigo’s proved himself to be a rather cool guy.

“You can’t keep spacing out like that, kid,” Keigo says, snapping you from your thoughts. Glancing down at him, you attempt to suppress your embarrassment, but Keigo’s too smart for that. Despite his relaxed attitude, he’s surprisingly intelligent and quite observant.

Hands tightening around the saddle, you scoff. “I wasn’t spacing out…”

Keigo cocks an eyebrow. “You know, if I wasn’t holding onto the reins, Nugget would’ve bucked you off a long time ago.”

This time, you snicker. You know that he has an undying love for chicken, but every time he refers to his horse as Nugget, you can’t help but laugh. This guy really is like a child.

“Pffft. Laugh all you want, birdie. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to ride.” Narrowing his eyes, he flashes you a sultry look. “If you want, I can show you.”

All laughter dies on your tongue. A spark of heat erupts in your stomach, makes your heart thump against your ribcage. He always manages to fluster you, to plant naughty little thoughts into your head. You swallow thickly. “I think… I think I’ll stick with Nugget for now.”

At that, Keigo shrugs, his expression turning into something more nonchalant. “Suit yourself. Seriously, though; you should always keep your focus while riding a horse. Anything can happen, and you’ll only know you’re fucked until you’re being crushed. Better yet, you’re flying overhead and end up snapping your neck. Hate to break it to you, but you don’t have wings to break your fall.”

“Keigo.”

He looks back up at you. “What?”

“Your wings. It’s just that… Well… Why help out on farm?”

Keigo blinks at you, no words slipping out. “Hah? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Shit,” you say quickly, mentally cursing yourself out, “that’s not what I meant. You can fly, can’t you? It just seems like you could’ve made a name for yourself…”

“And become a hero, right?” You wince at his words. He hit the nail right on the head. “Heh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I could spew a whole bunch of shit from my mouth and call it a day, but that’s not my style. I’m a hero in my own right.”

You furrow your brows. Remaining silent, you wait for him to carry on.

Keigo sighs at your implication. “Not all heroes wear capes or whatever. What about cops? Firefighters? Nurses? People who help put food on your table and help that old man out? Just because I’m not stopping some robbery doesn’t mean I’m not important.”

His words come as a slap to the face. He has a good point; actually, scratch that. He has a fantastic fucking point.

“I’m sorry,” you say after a moment’s silence. “That was selfish of me.”

Keigo waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. Nugget gets nervous if you get into a bad mood.”

Absentmindedly, your hand drops onto the horse’s neck, giving it a couple of reassuring strokes. “He’s a beautiful horse.”

“Yeah – well, until I bathe him. Getting up close and personal to horse cock isn’t fun. A bit degrading, actually.”

Slapping a hand over your mouth, you try to muffle your sudden laughter. Air streams through the cracks of your fingers.

Instead of his usual smirk, Keigo flashes you a genuine smile. You’ve only seen it once or twice before, but it never fails to make your heart stop. His whole face scrunches, his pearly teeth a startling white compared to his sun-kissed skin. Okay, so maybe you’ve fallen in love with this guy. It’s no big deal; you’re only here for the summer, so there’s no point in chasing after something you can’t have.

“What, did ya find that funny? I’m here all week, folks.”

“You saying you’re a standup comedian now?” you shoot back. “I didn’t know they accepted clowns on farms.”

“Ohoho, so you do got a mouth. Where’s that been all this time, huh? Would’ve made things a lot more fun.” Reaching up, he knocks his cowboy hat further back, revealing more strands of sandy hair and bronzed skin. “Listen here, partner. This town ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

“Oh my god,” you say with a snort. “You’re such a dork.”

Keigo snickers. “You know you love me.”

Heh. Yeah…

If only he knew.

-

Maybe you should’ve taken his words more into consideration.

Your instincts are more attuned to what could happen in battle, not for words. Besides, Keigo is a sneaky bastard. Most of the things that spew from his mouth are innuendos and pure sarcasm. He doesn’t really come off as a genuine type of person.

It’s whatever. You don’t like to read into things too much, and maybe that’s your fault, maybe it’s not. Who knows?

Even so, your eyes continuously drift over to where he stands. He busies himself with hanging Nugget’s saddle and harness away, his body lax. If one’s thing for sure, he definitely seems a lot more comfortable around animals rather than actual human beings. You can’t blame him, but what about you? Is he comfortable around you?

Clearing your throat, you turn back to the task at hand. Brushing Nugget down, you trail your hand over the coarse hair, the hard muscle. You meant it when you said he’s beautiful. Shiny brown coat, straw colored hair – he seems like the perfect match for Keigo.

“Cowboy Keigo,” you mutter. “Tell me, Nugget,” you begin, “does Keigo treat you right? Feeds you apples and lumps of sugar? A pretty horse like you deserves to be spoiled.” At the mention of his master’s name, Nugget whinnies. “Is that a yes? You’re avoiding the question, man.”

“Are you seriously trying to sweettalk my horse?” Keigo pipes up. Stepping over the stall, he hoists himself up onto the gate and straddles the wood. Wings sweeping behind him, he flashes you a peculiar look. “Didn’t they teach you in school that you shouldn’t seduce a horse? I don’t know about you, kid, but bestiality isn’t smiled upon around here.”

“Then what does that say about you, bird boy?” you quip. “Surely you don’t put yourself in that category?”

“Ooo, degradation. How did you know that was one of my kinks? Were you looking through my search history?”

Rolling your eyes, you set the brush to the side and join him at the gate. Climbing up, you mimic his movements and straddle the wooden beam. “Kinky cowboy, huh? Kind of has a nice ring to it.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got the bedazzled white boots and everything. I mean, I’m already wearing the assless chaps and everything.”

“You sound more like a stripper rather than a farmhand. What do you think, Nugget?” you ask, turning towards the horse. Nugget merely snorts and shakes his head.

“Hey, hey, don’t agree,” Keigo tells him. “I’ve got to keep my secret life a secret, you damned horse. Help a guy out.”

“I guess your partner would rather throw you under the bus,” you say with a chuckle. “Good horse.”

“Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.”

“Cry me a river, bird boy. Or do I have to kiss your booboos?”

At that, Keigo falls quiet. The look in his eyes is unreadable, but the way his body tensed tells you something else entirely. Abruptly, he swings his leg over the gate and hops back down onto the ground. Aw, shit. Did you take it too far? It was only lighthearted flirting and yanking on his leg-

“C’mere,” Keigo says, offering you his hand. His voice is a lot more… soft.

With little to no hesitation, you take hold of his hand and get off the gate. You’re about to ask him what he wants, but then he’s abruptly pulling you to the side, further away from the stable’s open doors. Birds are singing outside, their sweet melody carrying along with the sweet summer breeze. It almost seems like an entire world away. A grunt escapes your lips as you’re shoved against the wall, the smell of straw and musk filling your senses. Keigo steps in close, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down your spine.

“Listen here, pretty little birdie,” he drawls, his lips pulling back in a smirk, “but I may just have to take you up on that offer.”

Wait, what?

“What the hell, Keigo? Where is this coming from?” you question. It’s not like you’re against him being so damn close, it’s just… unexpected.

“Oh, right, like I’m supposed to pretend that you don’t gawk at me at any chance you get. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Embarrassment heats up your insides, crawls up your neck. So this bastard is really going to rub it in your face, huh? Seems just like him.

“Then why didn’t you say anything about it before?” you hiss. “If it’s such a problem, don’t stay silent. You’re not the type to let things like that slide.”

“Who said it was problem?”

Keigo: 1 / you: 0

Spluttering, you try to gain control of your whirling emotions. This is not how you were expecting this conversation to go. Actually, you weren’t expecting this conversation at all!

“I know for a fact that you can’t get enough of me,” Keigo continues. “And if I’m being completely honest, I like it. You look so cute when you stare after me, birdie. Then you have the audacity to pretend like nothing happened whenever I catch you.”

“Is that what this is all about?” you huff. “Okay, fine. I admit it. Maybe I watch what you’re doing more than what’s necessary. It’s not my fault you walk around all the time without a shirt on or anything…”

“Normally, I’d say because it’s because I get hot when I’m working, but knowing that you were watching made it all the better.” He winks at you. “Gotta hand out a treat here and there, you know?”

“You really are a clown!” you squeak. Keigo laughs as you weakly shove at his chest. “You’ve been leading me on this entire time? What am I, a joke?”

“Hey now, don’t get ahead of yourself, kid. It’s not my fault you couldn’t come up to me like a civilized adult.”

Okay, now you’re fuming. “Keigo, you fucking idiot-“

Swooping in, Keigo cuts you off with a kiss. Unsurprisingly, his lips are soft; he tastes like citrus and salt, and before you know it, you’re looping your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off in the process. A huff of laughter fans across your lips as Keigo pulls back, his mouth hovering over yours. “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do that ever since your pretty ass sat at the kitchen table for the first time.”

You sigh. “You really do have a bird brain…”

You kiss him, again and again. Perhaps you should be ashamed that you have your tongue shoved down somebody’s throat rather than working, but there’s no way you’re stopping now. Like him, you’ve been waiting for this moment. The two of you have been tiptoeing around each other, rolling the tension back and forth like a goddamn snowball.

But fuck if it doesn’t feel good.

His hands aren’t shy, not in the slightest. Fingertips map out the ridges and dips of your body, seek out the spots that really make you tick. You bite back a giggle as he drops his mouth down your neck, the scruff covering his jawline tickling your skin. Your own hands trail over his body, tracing over the hard lines of muscle that hide beneath his clothes. Time and time again, whenever you’d see him without a shirt, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands all over him. This is your chance, now, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take it.

“Shit, shit, shit, not the wings,” Keigo pants into your neck. The scarlet feathers feel like silk beneath your fingertips; skimming over them, you follow their shape, feel how they get fluffier the closer they are to his shoulders. “Oh, fuck. You know just what you’re doing, huh, birdie? Playing around with me like that. Two can play at that game.”

Another grunt slips from your lips as he pushes you against the wall, harder this time. His hands shamelessly drift underneath your shirt, warm palms sliding over your skin. Your shirt comes off before you know it, being unceremoniously thrown to the ground.

“Fuck, birdie, aren’t a pretty one,” Keigo purrs, his nose bumping against your throat as he sucks another mark into your flesh. “I bet you’re real pretty down here, too…” Making quick work of your jeans, he easily slips them down your legs and you eagerly step out of them. “Don’t mind if I do, kid,” he murmurs into your ear before nipping at the lobe.

A weak moan breaks from your throat as a hand slips into your underwear and cups your sex. His hand is just so warm, and the roughness of his callouses causes your head to spin. Within no time, wet, sinful noises sound from between your legs, mixing with your heavy breaths and Keigo’s encouraging words.

“Yeah, you like that, birdie? My fingers feel good, huh? Wait until you get a feel of my cock.”

Spurred on by his words, you hastily unbutton his shirt, pushing the fabric to the side and running your hands over the swell of his pectorals, the ridges of his abdomen. A faint dusting of blond hairs covers his chest and arms; and, if you look close enough, more sticks out from the waistband of his jeans. Keigo hums as you continue to feel him up, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek.

“Like what you see? I bet you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time… Fuck! Not going to go easy on me, huh? I like someone who can bite back.”

“Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?” you breathe. Fingers wrapped around his cock, your movements catch up to his in speed. “You should consider yourself lucky that I like your voice.”

“Oohoohoo, feisty. That mouth of yours is saying a lot of mean things today, isn’t it? Guess I’ll have to put you in your place.” He pauses, swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. “But, if I’m being entirely too honest, I don’t think I have the patience for that.”

“Keigo,” you pant, “I swear to Christ if you don’t fuck me right now-“

“On it, on it. Don’t get your panties in a twist, your majesty.” In hurried movements, he strips you of your underwear and shucks his chaps and jeans down. Large hands grip onto your thighs and then you’re being hoisted up, sandwiched between his rigid body and the wall. “Why, won’t you feel that,” he purrs, “I’d say it’s high noon.”

“Don’t talk about your dick like that, you dork,” you scoff. “Oh, fuck.” Another pleasured noise slips through your lips as you grind down against him, his cock just barely teasing your hole.

“What was that, birdie? You know what they say – sweetie on the farm, a freak in the barn.”

“You’re anything but sweet. Just – Keigo, please?”

“Alright, I get it, enough teasing.” Adjusting his hold on you, he flashes you a tiny smile. “Hold on, partner.”

A choked groan breaks free from your throat as his cock slides in, your velvety walls sucking him in greedily. That damned smirk of his stays on his face the entire time he fucks you, along with that devious glint in his eyes. His façade only cracks after you start stroking his wings and squeeze around his cock; if he wants to act like a cocky son of a bitch, then so can you.

“Shit, you’re fucking tight,” he pants. The smack of skin against skin fills your ears, right alongside Keigo’s breathy moans and muttered words. “Keep squeezing like that, birdie, and you’re gonna make me cum quicker than I want to.”

“You almost sound like that’s exactly what you want me to do,” you breathe. “A cowboy like you has got to have some stamina, right? Don’t tell me all of that work goes to nothing.”

“Jesus, and you called me talkative. Fuck, I can’t wait to shove my cock down your throat and shut you the hell up – I said don’t squeeze like that, holy hell. Dirty little head you got there, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumble, yanking him back into a kiss. Keigo only moans loudly as you continue to play with his wings, quickly finding out that the spot where they protrude from his flesh is the most sensitive.

“Milk my cock, birdie,” he mutters between broken kisses. “You’re so fucking good to me, oh yeah. I should’ve done this weeks ago.” A startled squeak bursts from your throat as he abruptly strikes your ass. Sucking air through his teeth, he does it again, relishing in the desperate noises spilling from your mouth. “That’s right, birdie. Come on, make me cum. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard for you, fill you up until your belly’s bloated.”

“Keigo-“  You moan as his hand drops down, fingers furiously rubbing at your sex.

“That’s right, say my name. Let the whole fucking world know who’s fucking you this good.”

“Keigo-“

Smack.

“KEIGO!”

The knot building up inside you snaps; with a cry, you cling even closer to him, your velvety walls spasming around his thick cock as you cum.

Slamming a hand against the wall, Keigo fucks into you harder, faster, the wet noises sounding from between your legs almost deafening. “Oh fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh fuck, fuck, fuck – ah- ah- ugghnn…” Burying his face in your neck, his hips erratically jerk as warmth fills your insides. “Still… cumming… fuccckkk…”

Your eyes flutter as he shallowly thrusts into you, the sinful squelch of his cum leaking out around his cock filling your ears. Slowly, he comes to a stop, his hot breath fanning over your neck and the side of your face. Gingerly, you let him go, completely unaware that your fingernails had dug into him in the first place.

“Well,” he starts, lifting his head and flicking away sweaty strands of hair, “that was eventful, wasn’t it?”

You scoff. “Tell me why I like you again…?”

“Oh, darling,” he drawls, leaning in and pecking the corner of your mouth. “I don’t think you like me. I think you love me. You aren’t very subtle.” He laughs as you smack him on the chest.

“Okay, fine. You’re lucky I love you, bird brain. Don’t go rubbing it in.”

“Silly birdie,” Keigo hums, his face scrunching into that wonderful smile of his. “I may just love you too.”

Wait, seriously?

“And no, I’m not joking or being an ass,” he continues, as if reading your mind. “What’s it called? Love at first sight? I dunno, seems like cheesy bullshit to me, but I… I like the appeal of it. It sounds nice when you’re involved.”

Your heart thumps against your chest.

Oh, fuck.

[alfredosauce50]

You’re gonna go far, kid [Punk! England x reader]

Synopsis: Ever since coming to England to study, you haven’t had the time to do what made you come in the first place--tourism! The only friend you have is an exchange student from Russia, Ivan, so why not kill two birds with one stone? He schedules a little playdate with Arthur, a local, so he can show you around the hottest spots in London. You two immediately hit it off. Ivan is quick to notice his interest in you, so he starts teasing the poor man and making things hard for him. Camden is the last destination, and there’s no saying when he’ll ever see you again. Will he be able to get over himself and ask you out before the night ends?  Note: Attractions are italicized and have a link to a picture. Wordcount: 4,641 The reader is referred to as she/her.

This was the day you had been dreading, and yet, looking forward to. The first part was easy to explain. Picking up your hot latte, you set it down after a quick sip. You didn’t even have time to enjoy it. Not when you were typing away at your keyboard like a speed demon. You promised your friend you would finish your assignment before today’s meet-up, but your procrastination habits were a bitch. Nevertheless, you were eager to uphold your side of the deal, even if it meant stressing your hair out to get it done. 

So long as he didn’t show up before you were done, right? 

After burning your tongue for the second time that morning, you let out a small groan at the sting you felt but gasped at what you saw outside the window. It was a sound made from genuine terror--rather than the quiet streets of London at seven AM, you spotted a man pressing his face right up to the glass. And he was staring at you, menacingly. 

Anybody would’ve been creeped out by the sight, but you knew the guy. “Aha--Ivan! Hey! Morning?” You began rather awkwardly. 

He waved in response, and his glower melted away in exchange for a childlike smile. “Dobroye utro, (F/N)! I hope that’s not your assignment you’re doing.” He hummed, placing two hands on the glass to peer at your screen from outside. Oh shit. Glancing briefly at said screen, you turned it away before clicking the upload button. 

“Of course not.” You grinned, shutting your laptop immediately after. “I was just... Surfing the net. Checking Instagram. You know?”

“Is that so? I’m gonna check.” He made his way inside. And in no time, he was looming over your shoulder to start browsing through your internet history. You, on the other hand, were sweating balls. 

“You’re so funny, (F/N). Who checks Instagram on their computer?”

It seemed like only yesterday he was the oblivious exchange student from Russia who had no concept of social media. He had been a country bumpkin through and through, but a few semesters after befriending you, your influence rubbed off on him. Even you had no idea what went through your head when decided to talk to him, the intimidating new kid who spoke broken English, but there was no turning back now. He was attached to you by the hip and picked up on your habits faster than you could deal. 

He only became more of a menace when he discovered Twitter.

A displeased expression contorted at his expression when he saw that there was no evidence of you ‘surfing the net’. Google Docs couldn’t possibly count, after all.  “... Hm... Apparently, not you. Why didn’t you finish this yesterday, sunflower? Remember our promise?” 

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I passed out last night. But hey, I technically finished it before you came, didn’t I?” 

He craned his head from side to side in thought. “Maybe. But if you hadn’t, you know what that means.” Ivan coiled his arms around your neck and a sickeningly sweet smile curled up at his lips. 

“You will come with me to Moscow for Christmas!” 

A chill ran down your spine at the thought. Going to Russia was bad enough. But during Winter? You were never good with the cold. If you could barely handle London, Moscow was out of the question. “Oh God, please no.” He nodded giddily. “I’m never going to Russia. Maybe I’d consider it during Summer, but--anyway, that’s not the point here! I didn’t break any promises so I won’t be turning into a popsicle this year. Got that?” 

He pouted. “Aw...” 

“You damn sadist.” 

“Hehe.” 

“I wonder how you even became friends with him. Arthur, was it? Poor dude.” You mumbled, but he didn’t look all too offended. 

He tapped his chin and hummed. “Now that you mention it.” Then, he let out a short laugh. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say it was a happy little accident.”

“Unfortunate.” 

“But don’t worry! I don’t plan on bothering you as much as him today.” Ivan clarified, earning a slow nod from you. Phew. The clock was inching closer to eight and you weren’t much of a morning person, so hearing that was like music to your ears. “That’s why I wanted you to finish your work yesterday. I want him to be the only one making mistakes! It’s interesting to see him mess up and get embarrassed.” 

You had to wonder if he was using ‘interesting’ as a synonym for fun because he was clapping. “... Ivan, you really are a sadist.” 

The two of you stayed in that café for another hour or so, ordering some breakfast during your stay. Once the table was cleared and the bill was paid, you and he caught a bus to the London eye. You could marvel at the iconic ferris wheel for a few minutes as you walked up to the London aquarium next to it, your first stop. The building was huge to start with, and it didn’t look like they’d be storing fish in there considering how fancy it was. But wasn’t everything in England fancy? 

“He should be waiting in the front. Look for a short grouchy man with a bad taste in fashion.” You shot him a weird look, beckoning him to elaborate. 

“... And blonde hair.”

“Alright. I guess I’ll try my best.” Glancing around the sea of people filled with tourists, couples, and families, you skimmed the crowd for someone who fitted the description--but to no avail. It was only when they walked up to you both did you find the guy. He had short and choppy blonde hair that framed a heart-shaped face, and under his fringe was a pair of lime green eyes staring on with a neutral expression. And did Ivan say he had bad taste?

You couldn’t agree. Yes, his charcoal pants were ripped and he had a bandana tied around his neck with a Union Jack on it. But he still had a kind of style you liked. Under his black leather jacket was a gray shirt, and combined with the piercings in his right ear, you couldn’t help admiring him for a second. 

“Arthur! I was wondering if you were trampled because we couldn’t find you.” Ivan began, causing the said man to furrow his brows. And boy, were they thick. 

“You just arrived, so don’t start now you twat.” He grumbled. Ivan never teased you for your height, even when you were a little shorter than the Brit. He always found it cute, but you figured it was only because you didn’t care. The Russian always found amusement in poking fun at others, after all. “Anywho, I’m glad I won’t be spending the whole day alone with you.” 

Turning to you with a soft smile this time, he held out a hand for you to shake. “Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland.” 

You shook it, but not without a laugh. It hadn’t even been a minute since meeting him, and his personality seemed to clash violently with his appearance. He sounded so prim and proper, but his outfit screamed punk rock. 

“(L/N). (F/N) (L/N).” 

He released you from his grip. Placing his hands on his hips with an accusing stare, he felt a grin upturn his lips. “Are you copying me, (F/N)?” 

“I don’t know. Do all British people introduce themselves like James Bond?” 

Arthur clicked his tongue. “... Not all of them. Just a force of habit.” 

“Mhm. Right, right. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arthur. I’m a student here too and I could only imagine how busy it gets for you--so thanks for coming out today!” He didn’t respond to those comments and simply nodded. 

Ivan stayed quiet in the back, but he was probably reading the atmosphere like he always did when he didn’t speak. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” The blonde turned on his heel and closed his eyes. “As much as I’d like to stay out here and chat, we can do that in the aquarium. Wouldn’t wanna waste our tickets, do we?” 

While the group of three wandered slowly through the establishment, Ivan lingered in the background while you walked in the front with the Brit. For the first ten minutes, you’d look at him expectantly, gesturing for him to join in the conversation. As the mutual, wasn’t he supposed to be the icebreaker? He’d shake his head every time, offering you a smile as if to say, go and make some friends. But soon, this brief spell of irritation morphed into gratitude.

“I’ve been here probably a hundred times, so don’t take it personally when I don’t seem as excited as you.” Turning to him to watch his face as he spoke--which was filtered through a bluish tinge from the Antarctic setting-- you only caught a brief glimpse of it before he turned away. Huh. Maybe it was just you not paying enough attention. 

Either way, what came out of your mouth next would surely grab his. 

“Don’t worry about it. But hey, this is the first time you’ve been here with me, so look alive, won’t you?” It happened to be a slip of the tongue, something bold and improvised, but luckily, he reacted fairly quickly before the regret set in.

“Oi, you better not be flirting with me already,” Arthur grumbled, feeling another smile come as he heard you chuckle. Since when was he this expressive? He pinned it on the fact that he was starting to have a little fun himself. 

“Couldn’t imagine it.” Before he could add anything else, you hopped in front of the penguins and started waving your friend over with great gusto. “Ivan, c’mere. Arthur, mind taking a photo of us?” Once he joined your side, the two of you held up peace signs for the Brit to snap a photo. 

“Ivan, change your pose. We can’t have both of you doing the same thing.” 

The said man moved his peace sign to the back of your head so he could stick two fingers over it. “Is that better?”

“... Better.” Trailing his emerald eyes to you, he felt his cheeks heat up a touch at the sight of you grinning ear to ear. What the fuck, Arthur. Just take the damn photo. And that was exactly what he did, showing you both right after. Whatever just happened, he boiled it down to him idealizing a stranger. That was right. He had yet to get to know you, so his perception of you couldn’t be any better at this stage. 

But there was one thing he couldn’t deny.

“Damn, I look really ugly in this. You two better not post this anywhere.” You settled a hand over the screen to lower it with a nervous laugh. Then, you looked away, and what was that? You looked a little flustered. 

You were cute.

Hanging his head to look at the photo, he knitted his brows together. You? Ugly? He couldn’t imagine it. 

“... I bet I could take an even uglier one of you.”

Spinning back to him, you folded your arms. “What did you say?” 

“Nothing.” He shook his head slowly, and the amusement in his voice made it blatantly obvious he was lying. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Walking off at that, Ivan followed. Because he was behind him, he could brush his shoulders against his. Arthur looked up at that, but almost wished he didn’t. Ivan was smiling down at him so shrewdly, it was threatening. Then, he raised a hand to his mouth so he could laugh softly. “Huhu. You like (F/N)~” 

His eyes flew open and blood rushed up to his face. “What the hell gave you that impression? I literally just met them!” As adamant as he sounded, he knew deep inside he liked you, but only platonically. Your personality was refreshing, and talking to you was as easy as breathing. Even if it wasn’t platonic attraction, he was endlessly frustrated the other figured it out earlier than he could. 

Whatever it was, he was certainly more sociable than usual, even to the point of being a tease. And not to mention the rosy cheeks. Maybe he should’ve just kept his trap shut--otherwise, his huge outburst let Ivan milk the obvious. Fuck. He even started to giggle like a schoolchild. 

Giving him a rough shove, he muttered a string of curses under his breath.  “I bloody hate your arse, you know that?” He hissed, his face now redder than a tomato. God, why he did have to be born so pale? Every slight change to his complexion was jarring, and it was embarrassing. 

“Don’t hate me because I’m right,” Ivan hummed, joining his side as your back came into view. “Once you realize, it’ll be too late. I’m not letting you have (F/N). I will always be (F/N)’s number one.” Lighting up at that, he skipped off to you in the front. “Wait for me, sunflower! Don’t leave me alone with Arthur!”

Arthur stopped in his tracks and clenched his fists. How annoying. If he was going to continue being a little tyke, then he figured he’d up his game as well. He didn’t know what that exactly entailed yet, but he’d do it. Ivan didn’t even sound like he wanted anything more than friendship, so what was with that? Pointing a finger at him as he walked off with you, his face scrunched up. 

“What did you even call me out for then, you idiot? I’m supposed to be guiding you both!” Picking up his pace at that, he slotted himself between you and him. Flashing you a brief smile, he gave Ivan another push without breaking eye contact. “It’s a tight fit for three, so he’ll stay in the back.” 

“Hey, no fair!” 

By the time the whole aquarium was toured, you and Arthur were laughing to yourselves while leaving through the exit. 

But the joyful atmosphere was short-lived. 

The Ferris wheel just outside was the next stop, and the Brit offered to splurge a little to have a carriage without strangers. That way, you could run around as much as you wanted, even if that meant leaving the two men to sit in their lonesome. While Ivan was sitting on the bench in the centre out of his own volition, the same couldn’t be said for him. 

Sitting back to back to the other, he pressed his legs firmly together and leaned over in a hunch. Then, he dug his hands through his hair, all while keeping his round eyes fixated on the ground. His heart couldn’t stop pounding, and his head was spinning like a carousel. What was he thinking, taking you here? That was right. This was an iconic destination you couldn’t miss, that was why. He was initially planning on staying back there on the ground, but you were so excited, he couldn’t help but hop on with you. 

Fuck. Maybe Ivan was right about him. But he wouldn’t let him know it. Speaking of the guy, he didn’t know if he was sitting there by choice, or just rubbing it in. While he was incapacitated by fear so he couldn’t even stand, he was sitting there because he wanted to. 

“You should’ve stayed on the ground if this was going to happen.” 

Arthur screwed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around his stomach. “... Shut up.” 

“I was just saying.” Ivan murmured, looking at him over his shoulder. Poor guy. He really was down bad, wasn’t he? Down bad for you, that was. Too bad Arthur was hoping he wasn’t convinced--but it was too obvious. So all Ivan wanted was to prove his point, and later on, keep you away from him. But maybe he’d save it until after the ride was over. “... This ride is thirty minutes long. You’ll live.” 

He heard the other groan. “Thirty minutes? How long has it been?” 

“Mm... Ten.” 

“Fuck me.” 

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be long before you would pull away from the railing and return to the company of the two. Arthur had been praying that somehow, you’d leave him alone sitting there, pathetically, but he couldn’t expect something so cold from you. So while he hung his head, he wasn’t surprised to feel your hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, you okay?” He heard you ask, but he never looked up. 

“... Yeah. Just give me a minute.” 

“I have. Ten, actually.” Taking a seat beside him, you leaned down to peer at his face, which was a few shades paler than normal. He didn’t even have the energy to respond, and kept his eyes fixed to the ground. Concern immediately contorted at your features, especially when he looked so shaken. “Arthur, you look a little sick. What’s wrong? Can you talk?” 

He shook his head slowly before managing a weak smile at you. “Sorry, love.” It didn’t even faze him he just called you that. He was far too uncomfortable to feel the embarrassment from a nickname he should’ve saved until a little later. 

“I’m not... Too good with heights. Never have been... I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” His voice was slow and faint, and you were beginning to suspect he was having a panic attack. “... Sorry if I seem a little lame.” 

“No, of course not.” You frowned. “Things like this happen. Just breathe with me, okay? You can do it. Just count to ten.” 

Arthur took a deep inhale. “... Okay.” 

Around ten minutes later of these exchanges, he calmed down some, especially when you kept on reminding him that the carriage was finally descending. Once the ride was over, you had to help him up and walk him out. Now that he had his two feet planted firmly on the ground, it didn’t take long for him to recover. Even then, you remained rather cautious and stuck with him on your journey to Soho. By the time everyone took their seats in Circolo Popolare, a beautiful Italian restaurant Arthur so kindly booked, you were still looking out for him.

Leaning over to rest your head on the table, you glanced up at his face with a soft smile. “... You okay now?” 

A light blush dusted his cheeks and he nodded. You didn’t need to be this observant with him considering he was well now, but he loved your attentiveness. It wasn’t something he was used to. “Yeah, I’m fine now. Thank you. Now quit worrying about me, alright?” Rubbing the nape of his neck at that, you couldn’t help lingering on his body language for a moment.

It didn’t matter what he dressed like, or what his personality was. He could be endearing when it came to it, and a total softie too. And the thought made you smile even wider. If he thought you were cute, then you thought he was adorable. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.” You slowly turned to Ivan, the action making Arthur tense up a little. 

Reaching out to your hand, he took it. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

The feeling of his warm fingers around yours made your heart skip a beat. Did he just? Your thoughts manifested into your look of shock, and you darted your eyes over his neutral expression to try and decipher it. Before you could come up with anything, there was a phone in your face, followed by a flash. 

“Wha--?” 

He turned the screen to you to reveal a photo of you, and in your opinion, it was the least flattering picture anybody had ever taken of you. “I said I’d take an uglier photo of you, didn’t I?” Arthur grinned, the words acting like a cold splash of water to bring you back to reality. 

“... You sneaky little shit.” You growled. “Delete that right now!” 

“How about no?” 

“I’ll never forgive you for this, Arthur.” 

“I think you already have, love. You’re smiling right now.” 

You stared at him wordlessly for a few seconds. Then, out of nowhere, you reached out to snatch his phone right out of his hands. Tapping furiously on the screen to get rid of it, you heard his chair scrape back violently as he tried to retrieve it. “Why, you--” 

But it was too late. Gone forever. Lost in the abyss of cyberspace. And so, he immediately channelled his frustration by jabbing his fingers into your sides. “If I can’t have that photo of you, at least let me do this!” You burst into a fit of laughter so loud, nearby patrons turned their heads. Only then did he pull away, leaving you to recover through breathless wheezing. 

“Fuck you, Arthur.” You whispered, but it was on an affectionate note more than anything. As you glowered at him from your seat, you never noticed Ivan doing the same thing, but he was glaring at the Brit for an entirely different reason. Arthur had to be the most self-aware person out there, and to make a scene in a restaurant like this? He really fell for you, didn’t he? 

When he realized Ivan’s scorching gaze burning into him, he froze. 

Not just out of how intimidated he was, but the epiphany that he was right all along. Why else was he acting so out of character? The only explanation was this--in the short time of being with you, he may or may not have developed a little crush. But that was no problem, right? 

All he needed to do was to ask you out. 

But that would prove a task easier said than done, especially when Ivan decided to attach himself to you by the hip after that stunt. That cunning bastard knew what he was doing. After a little window shopping around Bond street and Mayfair, he stuck to you like a tattoo, and kept it up until night fell. While the group walked around Camden, Ivan kept you by his side with a firm grip on your hand. 

When you asked why he was suddenly so clingy, he simply justified it with, “It’s dangerous for small people like you to wander around at night!” 

But Arthur called bullshit. Especially when the other went ahead and smirked at him right after saying it. Maybe he liked you too, but was refusing to admit it. How hypocritical. If not, then he probably didn’t want you making friends when you were the only friend he had. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to back down so easily. Camden may be the last destination for the night, and perhaps, the last time he’d see you again for God knows how long, but it was his trump card.

If this didn’t sweep you off your feet enough to get you to pull away from Ivan, nothing would. 

As a town famous for its thriving nightlife and punk culture, it encompassed everything he was passionate about, and he’d give anything to show it to you. So he included a visit to the bar here on the agenda today, one that hosted live music. While you and Ivan got comfortable in your seats, Arthur never made a move to sit down. 

It was already dim inside, so you never noticed him leave. The next time you saw him, it was a few minutes later when he was on stage with a few other musicians. Leaning forward with surprise, you watched him strap on a bright red electric guitar. Walking up to the microphone, he adjusted that. No way. 

You were still trying to process him being a professional performer, but a lead singer as well? 

The second he strummed the strings to start a guitar riff, he opened his mouth to start singing.

Play this while you read

Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time

And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach

His fingers never stopped moving as he belted out note after note. His voice was so different to how he talked, you had to do a double take. He sounded a little more rasp, a little more punk. To say you were impressed was an understatement. 

Now dance, fucker, dance, man, he never had a chance

And no one even knew it was really only you

While he jammed out on stage, he was electric. The energy in the bar exploded, and he had everyone singing along. You could almost see the confidence in him shoot up from the excitable crowd, because he was smirking. 

Nice work, you did. 

You’re gonna go far, kid! 

Turning his head to you as he sung that line, you raised a hand to your mouth. Whether he did that on purpose or not was a mystery. But no words could describe how attractive it was. Hell, it even made you mind blank for a few moments. This was Arthur? He was like an entirely different person! Needless to say, you were completely star struck. 

You couldn’t even make out what Ivan was telling you when the music was blaring in your ears. But you didn’t care. Arthur had you caught in a trance with his voice and guitar all until the end. When the song finally ended, the band bowed graciously and threw up hand signs as the audience erupted in applause and cheers. 

When he stepped off the stage, you didn’t hesitate to run up to him. There, you practically pounced on him for a tight embrace. “Oh my god, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play so well! And sing, too! Why didn’t you tell me!?” You exasperated, pulling away to be met with his dazzling smile. It was the first time you’ve seen him so energetic, as if performing sparked a fire inside him that burned with youthful intensity. 

“I was dying to show you all day. I wanted it to be a surprise, and I had to save the best til’ last, didn’t I?” He grinned, feeling his heart swell up with warmth as he watched you light up. 

“Well, good on you! I loved it!” Squeezing him again, you felt his chest shake under his laughs. When you pulled away, you reached up to cup his face. But it felt so natural in the spur of the moment, even he didn’t seem to care. 

“Thanks again for today, Arthur. I really appreciate you taking us out today. You completely blew me away.”

The way how you phrased it reminded him of why he was here in the first place. That was right. He still had to ask you out. And with Ivan watching on from afar, this was his chance. The thought reddened his cheeks, but while you had his face in your hands, he couldn’t feel more comfortable. “Is that so? If that’s the case, how about I take you out again?” His expression grew serious. “A proper date, I mean.” 

It was your turn to blush, but you managed a quick answer. 

“No need to look so serious, love. Of course I’ll go on a date with you.” 

He chuckled and leaned in to peck your lips. “Stealing my vocabulary now, are we?” 

“Stealing kisses now, are we?” 

“Touché.” 

Now a third wheel of the group, he breathed out a soft sigh and rested his cheek on his hand. “I guess my job here is done.” It didn’t really look like it, but he had been trying to play the wingman all along. Arthur was always one to go a little crazy when he wanted something, and only more so when he was desperate. So all he gave him was a little push in the right direction. 

Maybe he would thank him later, but for now, he’d leave you two be. 

This is a request. Thank you for requesting.

[bikerjongho]

in the coop | kang yeosang

genre: humor

character: college student!yeosang ft. college student!wooyoung

description: Yeosang and Wooyoung hatch and execute a plan to steal a chicken from a county fair to save it from the butcher.

word count: 3.1k

warnings: a little bit of swearing

author’s note: happy birthday yeosang!! <3 a gift for you. eat lots of chicken today! thank you for entertaining atiny with your humor and kindness. and leif, I hope you enjoy this especially, because I wrote this with you in mind. <3

taglist: @itsapapisongo @mangomingki @irehlevant @blueprint-han

The county fair was a treat to behold once a year. Though the smells were less of a treat to witness - filled with smells of starchy food and sweaty children, Yeosang and Wooyoung had to adapt to ignore it. Wooyoung did this by buying an enormous and sugar-coated funnel cake. When he dove into it while the two of them walked around the fairgrounds, a bit of powdered sugar dusted his nose. 

Yeosang opted for a corndog. It was less messy and perhaps a bit healthier in comparison with the funnel cake. "You're going to have an awful stomachache when we leave," he said while he watched Wooyoung shove an absurdly large piece of funnel cake into his mouth.

"And?" Wooyoung said between chews, the powdered sugar on his nose that Yeosang had not bothered to mention making him look like a white Rudolph. "When else can I have funnel cake?"

Wooyoung was right, the fair was the only place Yeosang could think of that actually had funnel cake. But he wouldn't be surprised if Wooyoung birthed a food baby and a stomachache the next day. Yeosang took another bite of his corndog and decided not to push the matter.

They had been at the fair for a few hours now, going on rides that made their stomachs rearrange themselves and gave some usage to their vocal chords while they screamed. They were on break now, enjoying their dinners and pondering what to do next while their food settled.

Wooyoung had suggested they play tented games, like throwing ping pong balls onto the top of glass bottles or throwing balls to knock down clown faces in order to win a prize at the end of it. But Yeosang decided against it. "Those games are so incredibly rigged, we'd just waste our money because it's impossible to win," he said, so they both ignored the heckling game owner that tried to sell them balls so they could play his game.

"So what do we do?" Wooyoung pushed. "Stare at the farm animals?" He asked, and then gestured to the animal exhibition that was growing closer to them in the distance.

"Exactly!" Yeosang grinned. He was actually excited to see the animals, but Wooyoung groaned.

"Wouln't that be boring?" He whined.

"Not at all," Yeosang said, waving his corndog stick at him. "The animals are cute and we can compare them to our friends. I swear I saw a sheep that looked just like Seonghwa."

At the mention of making fun of their friends, Wooyoung's face broke out into an enormous and evil grin. "Then let's meet these furry friends!" He said and marched ahead of Yeosang to the cow barn.

Upon entrance to the barn, they were met with the pungent smell of animals. Yeosang and Wooyoung crinkled their noses at the same time. A cow mooed at them as greeting.

"Is that hay?" Wooyoung conversationally asked the cow, referring to the food it was eating, then directed the question at Yeosang.

"Like if I know," Yeosang shrugged. "Probably." He walked over to Wooyoung and pulled out a water bottle from Wooyoung's backpack and took a long drink. It was sweltering outside. And although the sun had descended from its peak a few hours ago, the heat still stung.

Wooyoung was closely inspecting the line of cows cheerfully eating hay and swishing their tails. "I think Hongjoong would enjoy being a cow," he said wisely. "Seems like a chill life. He always complains about stress."

"That one kind of looks like him," Yeosang laughed and pointed at one that did have some resemblance to Hongjoong.

They traversed to another area of the barn and found more animals - pigs, goats, sheep, llamas, geese, bunnies, and chickens. A goat was there to greet them with a loud and piercing bleat. "Jongho, is that you?" Wooyoung said as he smiled at the vocal goat.

"There's Seonghwa," Yeosang said and was quick to point out the sheep he had talked about earlier, resting in a pen.

"Yunho," Wooyoung said and gestured towards a particularly tall llama with a long neck.

"San," Yeosang said, and pointed to a pig pen. One of the pigs was having a blast and running around the pen excitedly. "And Mingi," he continued, gesturing to another pig peacefully sleeping in the corner.

"Yeosang," Wooyoung said, causing Yeosang to turn towards his friend, only to find out that he was being compared to a chicken.

"I'm not a chicken," he said, offended. He raised his eyebrows and pointed to a patch of honking geese near the pigs. "Wooyoung."

Wooyoung only took the geese as a compliment. He grinned like a little kid and honked himself. "Do the chicken dance for me, Yeosang," he bantered.

"Shut up," Yeosang said sweetly. But he had to admit, the chickens were extremely interesting. In his opinion, they were the best animal at the fair. It might have been because he loved to eat chicken, but the chickens he came by as he walked around their pens came in beautiful browns, reds, oranges, and blacks. Some of their eggs even came in different hues. When he walked by one, it pecked its beak towards him and made him smile. So he was in Wooyoung's line of vision, he silently did the chicken dance in front of a light orange variety.

"Amazing," Wooyoung breathed and walked closer to him. He peaked at the orange chicken that Yeosang was nearby. "Aw, this one is cute."

"But he didn't win any prizes," Yeosang said and gestured to the other chickens around them. While some chickens had beautiful multi-colored ribbons that announced they had won in some sort of category, this orange chicken had a small, simple, and drab white ribbon.

"Participation," Wooyoung said, ogling the single ribbon on the chicken's cage. "That's silly. He's a stunning bird. A true specimen of chicken." The orange chicken pecked at the cage in response to Wooyoung's compliment.

"Taken an interest in Mr. Clucks, eh?" A man said, coming from behind them. He wore worn blue jeans, sneakers, and a yellow plaid shirt. He was older, but the little twinkle in his eye that appeared when he smiled suggested he was young at heart. "I'm the owner of him and a few other animals in this exhibition," the man clarified.

"It's too bad he didn't win anything," Wooyoung said, always eager to talk to someone. "He's really quite a nice-looking chicken."

"It really is too bad," the owner nodded. "I send my non-winners to the butcher, unfortunately." He said this casually.

Yeosang and Wooyoung looked at the chicken, Mr. Clucks, and then back at the owner, who gave them a smile.

"The butcher?" Yeosang repeated. He couldn't have meant that. Perhaps it was just a joke. He knew, rationally, chickens had to be killed in order for him to enjoy fried chicken, but now he knew this chicken. He couldn't just die now.

"I know, it's unfortunate," the owner sighed, and Yeosang couldn't argue with him. He gave a smile to the owner and looked back at Mr. Clucks, adamantly pecking the ground, oblivious to his fate.

"I can't believe he'd just drop him like that," Yeosang said to Wooyoung after the owner had gone off to talk to other fair-goers. "This poor chicken will die because he wasn't good enough? Mr. Clucks doesn't deserve that." He looked back at the orange chicken with a saddened expression.

"Nothing we can do about it, though," Wooyoung shrugged while Mr. Clucks pecked at the ground some more. "Unless we were to steal him, but that's impossible. He's in that cage."

Yeosang nodded, unable to keep his eyes off of the chicken. "I really wish we..."

But Yeosang trailed off. On other cages, a small lock kept the door of the cage secure. But on Mr. Cluck's cage, the lock was both unlocked and broken. It would still prevent Mr. Clucks from getting out of the cage, but all Yeosang would need to do would be to slide the lock off of the hook that it was on. 

Wooyoung noticed what Yeosang was seeing. "Yeosang, no. Absolutely not."

"But he's going to die," Yeosang pushed, his heart beginning to race. Could they save Mr. Clucks?

"Yeah, just like a lot of chicken!" Wooyoung hissed. "The same chicken that you gouge down about four times a week. And what if we get caught? We're not exactly inconspicuous carrying around a goddamn chicken."

Yeosang pointed to Wooyoung's backpack that was coincidentally chicken-sized.

"Yeosang," Wooyoung groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. "Okay, I guess I don't want him to die either. But he's not going to be happy in my backpack. He'd get stressed being in an unknown and closed space. We'd have a clucking backpack for the rest of our time at the fair."

"Then we steal- no, rescue him when we leave," Yeosang said, nodding at Wooyoung, who looked like he wanted to pass out on the floor out of exasperation. "Come on. This is a perfectly dumb thing that we can do together. We'll laugh about it in a few years."

"Not if the chicken police catches us," Wooyoung said, but his tone was amused rather than scolding. "Fine. But after we lose our minds on a few more rides."

Yeosang's smile was brighter than the blazing sun. "Thank you." Yeosang took one last look at Mr. Clucks in his cage before the two of them exited the animal exhibition.

Wooyoung and Yeosang proceeded to let themselves go wild for the last few hours of the fair. They rode one wooden and rickety rollercoaster in the fair multiple times with the other screaming preteens. They went on it so many times that the ride attendant learned their names, thanks to Wooyoung's loud personality and penchant for never shutting up.

"Well, Wooyoung, Yeosang," said the attendant, a cap that displayed the fair's company logo on his blond hair, "have fun on the ride. Again." He seemed to linger a little too long on Yeosang, but both of the boys were too eager to go on the ride to notice his attention to him.

Wooyoung later dared Yeosang go to on a terrible yet exciting throw up-inducing ride that flipped and turned its riders in the air. Yeosang stood in line with his arms crossed while Wooyoung gleefully stood on the sidelines. But the tables turned when the attendant told Yeosang that a minimum of two people were needed for each seat on the ride, and no one else in the line was riding single. There was no greater walk of shame for Wooyoung as he climbed into the ride's seat next to Yeosang. It was Yeosang's turn to be gleeful. So, the two of them screamed their lungs out as they whipped through the air and the sun smiled down at them from above.

The sun soon disappeared from the horizon and cooled down the fair. There was less light and more people crowding the fairgrounds, giving perfect conditions for the rescue of Mr. Clucks.

Wooyoung and Yeosang darkened the entrance to the chicken exhibition around eight o'clock. Wooyoung, armed with Mr. Cluck's red ride, his backpack, had a satisfied smile. Yeosang, eager to save his friend he had only met a few hours ago, made a beeline for the chicken.

"Mr. Clucks, hello!" He whispered as he slid the broken lock off of the cage while Wooyoung partially blocked him from other's view. There was only one other family with them, a mother and her screaming toddler, so they doubted she would pay attention to their thievery. The owner was also nowhere to be found, and the two of them had assumed he was tending to his other animals. The universe, it seemed, was optimized for thieves and discord this night.

Mr. Clucks clucked with fear when he was picked up by Yeosang from his cage, but all of the other chickens were also clucking. He was inaudible as he was placed carefully into Wooyoung's backpack and then zipped up.

"Oh, he's restless," Wooyoung muttered, now carrying the weight of poultry on his back. "I can feel him pecking my back."

"He's showing his love," Yeosang said and shut Mr. Cluck's now empty cage behind him. "Tomorrow, I'll go out and buy chicken food."

Wooyoung eyed him. "Yeosang, you're keeping him?" He asked, as if there wasn't a chicken in his backpack.

"What else am I supposed to do with him?" He asked incredulously, leading Wooyoung out of the chicken exhibition. It was luckily darker than when they had entered the chicken pens, so the small ruffling of Wooyoung's backpack was hardly noticeable. There was also enough screaming, laughing, and chattering from other fair-goers to deafen Mr. Cluck's clucking.

"Just let him go on the street?" Wooyoung shrugged. "You can't possibly take care of a chicken. Where will you put him?"

"I'm sure Pet Smart will have everything," Yeosang shrugged, weaving around a few of the fair-goers. They were almost at the exit of the fair. Once they were out of the gates, their rescue of Mr. Clucks would be a success.

"How was the fair?" The security guard that stood outside the fair asked, giving a serious smile as he checked to make sure Yeosang and Wooyoung had wrist bands.

"Egg-ceptional," Yeosang said at the same time Wooyoung said "im-peck-able." They then looked at each other with murder in their eyes.

The security guard, however, was not fazed. "Have a nice night," he said, and waved Yeosang, Wooyoung, and Mr. Clucks off.

Now that they were in the parking lot, Mr. Cluck's clucking was more audible. "Mr. Clucks, stop being so clucking- no, fucking loud!" Wooyoung hissed.

"It's fine, there's no one else around us," Yeosang reassured him. He could feel the adrenaline beginning to pick up inside him. They had done it, and Yeosang was so excited to show the rest of their friends Mr. Clucks.

"My backpack is going to smell like chicken for the rest of time," Wooyoung groaned as they reached Yeosang's car. He carefully placed down the backpack as he got into the passenger seat of the car and opened up the backpack. Mr. Clucks clucked as a greeting.

Yeosang peered over to look at their new friend. "Wonderful," he said, starting up the car. "Doesn't it feel good that we saved him?"

"What I'm feeling is itchy scratches on my back from all of his pecking, but sure," Wooyoung said, not taking his eyes off of Mr. Clucks. The orange chicken, now unzipped and a bit more free, seemed happier. Yeosang drove out of the parking lot.

"Get ready for your new home, Mr. Clucks," he said, turning smoothly into the lane that would take him home, "everyone is going to love you."

"What the hell?" Seonghwa said as a greeting when he walked into Yeosang's apartment. It was the next day, and Yeosang had gone out and bought all of the basic necessities for Mr. Clucks - a cage, chicken food, a chicken harness, and assorted clean up supplies. All of it sat in the corner of his apartment, while Yeosang himself was sitting on his couch. Mr. Clucks was perched onto his thighs and pecking aimlessly into the air.

"It's Mr. Clucks," Wooyoung said, leaning on the wall next to him with his arms crossed. "We stole him." He grinned while Seonghwa looked like he wanted to pass out.

Hongjoong entered the room next. He stared at Mr. Clucks for an absurdly long amount of time before saying, "Yeosang, I think your fried chicken is a bit undercooked." Seonghwa snorted.

"They stole him," Seonghwa added.

"From the fair," Wooyoung clarified.

"Why?" Hongjoong asked.

"Why not?" Yeosang said in reply, stroking Mr. Clucks' feathers.

Yunho and San entered Yeosang's apartment at the same time. "A chicken?" San asked, while Yunho sat right down next to Yeosang, admiring Mr. Clucks. Seonghwa and Hongjoong judged Yunho as he smiled and pet Mr. Clucks with Yeosang.

Jongho walked in with Mingi trailing behind him. While Jongho went through all five stages of grief upon seeing Mr. Clucks, Mingi was unfazed by Yeosang's new pet. "A chicken?" He asked. "What's his name?"

"Mr. Clucks," Yeosang grinned, which caused a few of them to look at each other with concern. Yeosang didn't seem to notice.

"Mr. Kang Clucks," Mingi finished.

At that, Yeosang brightened and Mr. Clucks let out a particularly triumphant cluck. "Oh, I love that name!"

"Or KC," San added. The room was oddly silent as Yeosang stroked his chicken, the only noise coming from Mr. Cluck's random clucks.

"Does the landlord know about this?" Hongjoong said finally, breaking the silence.

"He won't ever know," Yeosang said, smiling. "Well, unless he sees me taking it on a walk. But I think I'll be fine."

A pin could have dropped in the room. Seonghwa didn't take his eyes off of the harness, which had a leash, in the corner of the room. "A chicken," Hongjoong said finally, the unspoken spokesperson of the group. "Alright."

"I saved him from being killed," Yeosang felt the need to say. "And," he continued, looking at Wooyoung, "maybe I will end up releasing him or sending him to a good farm. But for now, I'll take care of him." He gave a grin to everyone, and as he stroked Mr. Clucks some more, it was clear that he dearly admired him.

But their smiles turned into held back laughter as Yeosang bent down and began dressing Mr. Clucks into a leashed harness. "I'll take him on his walk now," he said, placing Mr. Clucks down onto the floor wearing his new harness.

"Have a nice walk," a few of them echoed as they watched Yeosang and his domesticated poultry exit the apartment.

"A chicken," Seonghwa echoed now that Yeosang was gone. Jongho was already pulling out his phone and setting himself by the window to record Yeosang walking the chicken like it was a dog.

"I think the chicken is kind of cute," Yunho shrugged. "And it's admirable of him to give a bit of his time and money for the little guy."

"But a chicken," Seonghwa said. "A chicken."

They all grinned at that. But Yeosang was Yeosang, and as he walked outside with his winged and clucking pet, the rest of them felt a wave of respect and love for him.

And that was the sweet part about Yeosang - despite his love for eating chicken, he had a heart of gold and cared for unseen animals. And that allowed all of them to look at him at a new angle that, until now, none of them had previously noticed.