#Tw like absolute sailors

[crazycatkatetrap]

FINALLY, I FINISHED THE SKETCHES😮‍💨 (took me long enough, sorry about that guys)!!!!!!!

Here's some random close-ups🙃:

Took some scenes from Chapters 4, 41/2, 6, 8, 10, and the next few chapters that have yet to come including one sketch from the very end😉

(Oh, and I figured I'd tell y'all on this post; for now, the fic is on hold. It's not writer's block or I've lost interest (on the contrary, I'm too invested in this crap🤣), I'm just trying to build up the anticipation since chapter 14 unlocks every secret to this au and to KT and I feel it would be best not to reveal it all just yet~ Gave you guys a taste of what's to come in Chapter 13 though😏 I'll still be producing artwork and mini stuff for the au and other little sneak peeks as to what I'm working on though☺️!!!!!!! )

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: enemies to lovers, past bullying, reformed bully x victim

♡ fem reader

“No way.” You shake your head—face warped in something akin to disgust. Judging him for even asking, glaring in disbelief at him and what dangles from the clothing hanger in his hand. He couldn't be serious.

“Come on, please, for me?” he pleads, downright pleads. But there’s no way.

“No.” You say more firmly, planting both hands on your tilted hips. “I don’t get what you’re thinking, but it’s not exactly a time in our lives I want to relive.”

He pouts and sags a little where he stands, clasping his hands together in prayer, making the ill-taste outfit swing. “Oh, come on, it won’t be the same as then,” he promises with zero believability backing him. He even dares smile as he spouts the bullshit in his next words, “It’ll be like therapy. Let’s reframe your trauma together.”

You scoff. He’s unbelievable. “You’re stupid.”

He feigns feeling insulted. “I’m serious!”

“You always said I looked like trash in that—no way I’m not putting it on,” you dismiss.

But then he gets down on his knees. Hands still together as if in worship. Looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. “I was lying through my teeth back then—you know that! I’ll be honest this time around. Tell you exactly how often I had to change my pants because of you—”

“Ew, stop.” You can’t believe the spectacle he’s creating—such a drama queen—and all for getting you to put on a make-shift copy of your old high-school uniform.

“Come one, pretty, pretty, pretty please?” He shuffles forward on his knees until he’s right by your feet—bottom lip jutting out in his pout. “The prettiest please?”

You look down at him—you mouth a prim pursed line, gritting your teeth to try and steal yourself. Grimacing at the outfit sprawled on his lap. There’s no way. Absolutely no way.

“Pretty please?” he continues, making you roll your eyes with a sigh.

“Fine,” you bite out but quickly add, “But you have to wear one, too.”

You think you’re being smart. But he only grins—a wicked little twinkle in his eye.

“Way ahead of you.”

From behind the outfit meant for you, he pulls forth a black gakuran to match.

Okay, so you hadn’t really thought he would have bought one for himself—you realize now the mistake in your speculation. Of course, he’d bought one for himself. But hold on… You raise your brow, folding your arms atop your chest. “And where’s the pants?”

“They didn’t have my size, but my sweats are already a good lookalike,” he explains away. “This doesn’t really fit either, but it won’t stay on for long, so’ doesn’t matter.”

He gets up and hastily pulls his shirt off of his head, then, with just as much enthusiasm, pulls the black school jacket on. And he’s right—his black sweatpants could pass for the old Tobi trousers he used to wear. All in all, it’s a sight for sore eyes. Looking at him feels just short of seeing his old high-school self.

“Come on. You said.” He holds out the rendition of your old uniform. “Get dressed.”

You regret conceding. But it’s too late to go back on your word now. Rolling your eyes, you receive the hanger with a sigh, “Oh, fine. Just this once, you freak.”

You get dressed without making much of a show. Leaving your current comfy outfit in an unceremonious pile, you pull the tacky articles on hastily. Black pleated skirt and sailor blouse with a little red bow sash—there’s even a pair of knee-high socks to go with it. As a grown-up, it’s utterly humiliating having to wear it now.

But he doesn’t seem to share your discomfort. Only groaning, “Damn. There she is—my prettiest little junior~”

You ball your skirt in your fists. Glancing up at him only to look down again, fixing your gaze to the floor. Heat in your face. Mumbling, “This is weird—you look dumb.”

“Oh yeah?” his voice curls with newfound enjoyment. “Well, you don’t look a day older.”

He comes closer, and oh god—you don’t know why you’re so nervous. But fuck—you feel like your back in time—back in time when you were a sorry loser getting picked on, and he was… he was a—

“Perv,” you manage to say. Though, that’s not really the word you’d been thinking.

He chuckles, so close now that he also starts to play with the hem of your skirt. “That’s for damn sure.” Agreeing, he hums, “Only for you though. So’s fine.”

He bends down and finds your neck with his tongue and teeth—his hand traveling up under your skirt without further ado.

“Hey,” you protest, wringing his ill-fitting jacket in both fists, hauling him off. And even though it makes him look back at you like a kicked puppy, you don’t let it get to you as you scold him, “Thought we were reframing my trauma. At this rate, you’re just itching to make me relive it.”

He tries giving you one of his innocent smiles. “Oh?” His arms curl around your waist, pulling you close—chest to chest—simpering while leering down at you, voice in a purr, “It won’t be any fun if I can’t bully you a little bit like I used to.”

He tries leaning down to catch your lips, but you push him away. Breaking free, then scoffing, “Tch, if that’s how you’re gonna play this, then have fun beating off on your own.”

“But—” He starts, but you’re already on your way to leave the room. Hooking two fingers into the band of your skirt, he stops you and spins you back, now all mopey and sorry, “I’m sorry, don’t go, princess—how about we one-eighty it, and I tell you all the reasons I love you? Will that make you humor me?”

He’s back to pleading.

And you can’t help the small smile it gives you. Muttering, “Maybe.”

He smiles giddily, too, “I love how pouty you can be sometimes.”

Your brows furrow, “Hey!” That’s not a compliment.

But he only laughs and continues, “And I love your snippy little tsundere attitude.”

“Those are both insults, you tit—” you argue, but he doesn’t care, hugging you close, lifting you off your feet before falling with you down on the bed. Hanging over you, he admires every inch of your perfect body tucked into that cute little uniform he used to make fun of because he was scared of how silly you made him feel.

“I love how you tell me off.”

Deciding to face his fears was the best decision he’d ever made.

“I love how you look at me.”

It’s crazy to think you’re here with him still, after all these years.

“I love how you put up with me, how you make all my wishes come true—how, even though I don’t deserve you, you stay with me anyway—how you’re mine even though I’m a scumbag.”

You’re eyes soften under his speech. For all his tactlessness, he can also be really quite sweet. You raise both hands, reaching out to cup his face—beholding the softness in his eyes—that way he looks at you. It makes your chest stir.

“You’re not that bad,” you confess, pulling him down to tease his lips with yours.

Kissing you once, he accredits you, “That’s ‘cause you make me a better man.”

You smile and kiss him again, then resume your teasing, “Don't get ahead of yourself. You’re still a boy.”

He lifts and raises a brow down at you in retaliation, “Is that so?” And oh no, you recognize that look.

“Well, this boy is feeling hormonal and horny and just raring to go—” he overplays. Gasping, “And what do you know? How lucky!” He lowers himself again, then starts peppering kisses all over your face in between words, “I’ve got this perfect little high-school sweetheart lying here all up for the taking—”

♡ BNHA – Hawks, Dabi, Bakugou, ♡ JJK – Gojo, really silly in-love Sukuna ♡ HQ – Kuro, Atsumu ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Sanemi ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[plutoasteroids]

In Another Life- PAC

PILE 1 PILE 2 PILE 3

This reading is allegedly for entertainment purposes only. I am not responsible for any choices made in accordance to my readings!

TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, G@MBLING AND G@NG AFFILIATON READ AT YOUR OWN RISK YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

This reading is to find out who your past life lover was

PILE 1

Your past life lover was someone very in control, they had a desire to always protect and be the one to bear all the burdens regardless of if they were male or female. This person felt like home to you they may be coming back as your lover again in this past life there is a soul tie between you both. Anyways, they have a lot of inner strength nothing really tore them down they constantly thrived to be better and honestly most of the time things never worked out for them but they never gave up they kept going, they were always so confident and held themselves with high regard no one could point anything out that could be remotely awful about your person, they were quite likable and attractive and was always the leader never the follower. In this lifetime they are bound to continue striving to be the leader and keep doing the best they can while also balancing being human as in letting themselves feel their emotions instead of living life like they are a robot.

For some of you it could be in the 1800's, In this lifetime they are born in the 90's or you were born in the 90's but 90's holds significance. England, Paris, Germany specifically Berlin, Japan, Switzerland

PILE 2

Your past life lover was very resourceful they could always turn a situation good or bad in their favour. they are quite smart and cunning, they were the type to run circles around you without you realising until the very end that they tricked you. Because of their ability to be able to talk themselves out of a situation they felt like they didn't need to work for anything. They could just trick anyone into doing whatever. They could have used any means necessary to get their way like their appearance and words which honestly may have led to a lot of issues for them down the line especially financially because eventually people caught up to what they were doing and in a way they were shunned and they needed to find a way to turn things around and change and I don't think they managed to do that in that last lifetime so in this new lifetime they will have to learn to be more humble and hard working instead of using deception to get their way. For some of you there is a chance that you will be with them again this lifetime but for the majority it's very unlikely.

(Bonnie and Clyde as well as Elvis Presly could point to just time eras not that they were affiliated with them but who knows maybe they could have)

England, early to mid 1900's, Elvis Presley, Bonnie and Clyde, France, Germany, World War 1, Cambridge, G@mbling, g@ng affiliation.

PILE 3

Your past life lover was constantly burdened by one thing or another mostly relating to not having enough money to do something else. Your past life lover may have been a sailor or fisherman and passed away quite young. Whatever they tried to do to make ends meet never seemed to work for them it was just loss after loss. They worked so hard with absolutely nothing to show for it after all that hard work and it was such a frustrating situation for everyone involved because they were always plagued by poverty and never having enough. At the end of the day when all that hard work was over their only source of happiness or peace was YOU. Things never seemed as awful with you around. Things did eventually get better, but it was a long and treacherous battle to getting to that stability and unfortunately, they didn't live long enough to enjoy it. They were plagued by illness at a young age and passed. Unfortunately, in this lifetime I don't see them being your future spouse.

Ancient Greece, Egypt and Rome, Papyrus, boats, tan skin, white, gold

[ambrosiagoldfish]

hi! can i request headcanons of Adam x Male Angel! Reader who is sweet, kind and never curses? preferly sfw and nsfw but if u don't write smut for Male Reader, that's fine!

hope u have a Nice day <3

Adam x Kind Angel Reader HC’s

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, NSFW in latter half of post, He/Him pronouns with Male Genitalia. Slight Degradation/dirty talk. Fluff + Smut

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 820

A/n: thank you so much for the request! I had a lot of fun with this one! I did make it on the shorter side but that’s only because it’s quite difficult to make Headcanon’s 1000+ words without other characters but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Also I decided to make this little header thing for fics! I’ve seen a few others do it and the GIF’s I normally use are becoming a hassle to find. Let me know if you guys like it!

SFW

Oh boy, this relationship really is a match that could only be made in heaven. No one would have expected Adam to date a man who is the complete opposite of him. If anything, people expected someone like him or even Lute!! But you? They never could have predicted that.

But what can you do, opposites do attract.

You’re always being so kind to him, telling him he looks handsome, helping him with any and all work he might have to do, and on top of it you bring him gifts and trinkets! Not to mention all the delicious treats you get him that are almost as sweet as you.

And to be honest, this really messes with Adam, cause you’re literally so sweet and thoughtful but he doesn’t have anything to give you in return besides sex. At least that’s what he thinks but in reality he gives you so much more than he gives himself credit for.

He plays you songs on the guitar, takes you out to fancy restaurants, and over all treats you with love and affection than any other has. But even if none of that was true, you don’t do anything and everything for him because you want something in return. You love Adam completely unconditionally.

The no cursing thing is something that genuinely gets on his nerves. Cause like, he could never. This man has the mouth of a sailor and the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. Which is one of the traits you love about him, that he says what he wants. But also you’re just like “Sir, this is not what The Father intended-“

“Neither was putting my dick in another guys ass but look, I’m still here bitch!”

And it especially bugs Adam, if instead of cursing, you replace swears with other words. Like the other day you stubbed your toe when landing on ground and Adam had fully expected for you to do what he does, which is scream the loudest swear and be pissed off at everyone for 20 minutes. But instead….

“OW Fudging chocolate chip-“

“JUST SAY FUCK”

So, ever since that day, Adam has sworn to one day take your ‘cursing virginity’, at least that’s what he calls it. And he try’s so hard to do so, which is a slight bit of trouble cause he doesn’t want to like, be a complete douche to you.

So until he figures out a way to get you to curse, he’s pretty stumped at the moment. But still, he absolutely adores you.

NSFW

Oh Boy x2

Everything I said previously still stands if not double the amount. This man wants to do the👏Most👏Unholiest👏Things👏To👏You👏

Loves to see your kind and sweet personality slowly crumble because of his cock.

‘Who knew you could be such a slut?’

He loves that your personality carries over during sex, you give him everything you’ve got and then some. You want to do your best for him after all.

Speaking of which, if you worship him in any way that man is cumming IMMEDIATELY. He really just wants to feel like he’s above everyone else, and Surprise surprise, he has a praise and you being the, oh so thoughtful person you are, you make sure to completely indulge that aspect of him.

You babble so much about how good his cock feels hitting your prostate over and over again. How well he’s making you feel like like the Good Boy he is. It really gets it him going.

Remember how I said he’s trying to make you lose your ‘Cursing Virginity’? Yeah well, this is how. He is SO determined to get you to spill out just one swear while he goes to town on you. Is it the most holy thing he should do? No. But how could he not fuck your brains out till you break your own moral code?

He tries so hard too. He has yet to get you there but he has come close. When he had you in a mating press, legs over his shoulders, your ankle’s lightly hitting the base of his wings with each thrust.. You couldn’t stop begging for him to cum inside you as you came for the Xth time in a row.

“Please Adam! P-Please! Fu~“ you cut yourself off with a hand to your mouth.

Adam looked at you with his signature grin, his hips not stopping their movements to pump himself in and out of you. “Was you about to say something babe?”

You held your hand against your mouth shaking your head ‘no’ clearly trying to make it seem like you weren’t about to drop the f bomb.

“Mhm, right~ let’s see if I can pry some other ‘naughty’ fuxkin’ words out of ya!” He laughs a wicked laugh as he switches the position so that he’s somehow even more atop of you. Leaving you a completely, moaning, helpless mess for him to dominate >:)

[writerblue275]

Heartsteel Ranking: “Scary boyfriend privilege”

(AKA how intimidating they are to people who don’t know them.)

Inspiration: I’ll be honest this is a bit of a random ranking but I thought it would be fun to do and it was!

Champions: Heartsteel

Genre: Ranking

Type: Fluff? This is meant in a funny way.

Tw: Small mention of alcohol (drink responsibly y’all), and swearing (because I do, in fact, have the mouth of a damn sailor.)

List goes least intimidating to most intimidating.

LEAST

Ezreal (One of these days I will do a ranking that doesn’t put him at the bottom! I swear it’s not intentional! 😂)

Let’s be honest no one is shocked he’s here, right? Where else was Ez going to go on this list?? This isn’t a bad thing though! He just gives off such golden retriever energy and it’s amazing and I love him. I want to be at least best friends with HS Ezreal.

Despite the usual happy golden retriever energy, he’s definitely not afraid to tell people off/protect you though. (I feel like he secretly has quite a temper. He’s a Sagittarius after all [love my fellow 🔥 signs WOOT WOOT]. Usually he’s very good about keeping it under control…but if someone [besides you, he absolutely adores you] pushes him too far [ex: by making you uncomfortable]…just see what happens.)

Aphelios

You absolutely have scary boyfriend privilege with Aphelios, but I just can’t rank him higher than any of the other members below. He definitely has that “brooding silent type” down pat, and when he’s wearing his mask, that’s doubled. That air of mystery, baby, he’s got that in SPADES.

We also know he’s tall. Like not Sett, K’Sante, or Yone tall, but he’s got some height on him (unconfirmed 6’). Physically, he’s definitely more intimidating than Ez. Like imagine Phel silently staring daggers at someone. Lmao I’d hate to be whoever pissed him off.

K’Sante

Most of this comes from his height (unconfirmed 6’4”) and the fact he’s one of the gym bros. Like general vibe/personality-wise, I think Phel could be more-intimidating than K’Sante (or even Sett), but have you seen how just MASSIVE K’Sante is? HE CAN CANONICALLY BENCH SETT. Like 😮😮😮

Not to mention I feel like he’d always stick close to you in public, so no one would even dream of trying to do anything to you. (Unless they’re a whole dumbass.) K’Sante genuinely gives me very kind vibes, but he definitely protects those he loves very fiercely.

Sett

Sett is (unconfirmed) 6’7” (at least confirmed the tallest in the group), and JACKED AS HELL. Not to mention “allergic” to sleeves so those arms are out most of the time lmao. Only a fucking moron (or someone who is incredibly drunk) would look at Settrigh and go “oh yeah I am absolutely going to mess with this guy.” RIP that idiot.

He also doesn’t fuck around about the safety of the people he loves. Sett genuinely seems like the sweetest guy (I love this giant, ripped, sewing himbo so fucking much oh my fucking god) but he can/will be intentionally intimidating if it’s necessary to keep you or Ma safe (the two most important figures in his life 🥺). Will walk you home/keep you close to him in crowded situations. He always wants you to feel safe when you’re with him (you absolutely do like how could you not?).

Kayn

So this is based on both appearance and reputation. Obviously Kayn has quite the reputation from his last band (as well as being kicked out of it.) Appearance-wise, he’s not super tall, but he’s tall enough. Not to mention the piercings, tattoos, the fact he’s also in excellent shape (I mean we all saw those abs 😏), has vibrant dyed hair, a very bright red eye, and he is a total metal head. He can also, um, travel through WALLS. (Small detail lol.)

DO I EVEN HAVE TO MENTION RHAAST (even as his stage alter ego)???? Kayn can be pretty impulsive and sometimes acts first, thinks later. (He’s currently working on that with Yone, it’s fine.) Someone would be a damn fool to fuck with him or you. He just gives me very loyal guard dog vibes. (I mean he did wear the damn leash in the mv so….😝)

Yone

There is no one (let me repeat: NO ONE) I’d want to fuck with less than Yone. This man has quintessential resting bitch face (RBF), is like 6’ 2-3” (unconfirmed), in very good shaped (based on the lovely titty window of his outfit. Thank you, Riot designers) and is able to (mostly) wrangle the rest of the group. Also (hella obvious but) HE’S AN INTROVERT (INFJ specifically). People are NOT his thing (fucking MOOD).

Yone is the one who gives the most similar vibes to the TikToks I’ve seen that show cosplayers at Cons with their scarier-dressed friends/partners following behind them keeping them safe. (For Yone, it’s the RBF/air of mystery that really sets the tone.) He gives me such mature gentleman vibes as well. He’s always going to walk you home especially at night, or he’ll stay by your side in a crowd and you are just going to feel really safe with him. Top-tier scary boyfriend privilege right there.

Most

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Ok so the least and most intimidating were extremely obvious to me. It was everyone else in between that made things difficult. This was really fun to write though, even if the concept is a bit silly! 😂

[squeakadeeks]

Can I be nosy and ask how you got scurvy. In exchange you can take anything you want from my fridge vegetable drawer

oh totally. the fact that i had scurvy remains one of the weirdest twists in this ol life o' mine.

part of this story is funny, the other part not so funny. (TW EDs)

the not so funny part is I got to the point of developing scurvy in an insanely predictable way. I've had a clinical ED all my adult life and a lot of the PSAs warn you about the surface level stuff like "your hair will fall out!" "you'll be tired all the time!" which....yeah. but if you restrict hard enough and long enough youre basically doing a "stranded on a desert island DIY POV" simulation. not to sugar coat it but I was deeply unwell and doing some absolutely Insane things. i was living hot Sir Ernest Shackleton boy summer. except it wasnt hot it was horrible and Shackleton probably wouldve been deeply disappointed and confused by the whole situation.

but as one would naturally imagine if you are tit for tat nutritionally larping as a castaway, you will. Develop Diseases. I remember suddenly noticing that my teeth looked like straight ass and I was getting mouth sores but I wasnt sure why. I developed a fever for weeks that i couldnt shake, the skin on my hands kept chafing off and my fingers would lock up, in general my skin was really bizzare looking with weird scabs and dark spots, and overall i felt utterly awful. Ive been struggling with this for awhile so some of that was my ""normal"" at the time so I didnt really connect the dots until I was reading something about scurvy and went "haha funny sailor disease" only to pause and realise that with my dietary habits, i hadnt eaten fruit or anything containing vitamin C in well over a full calendar year. this caused me to look up the symptoms of scurvy with dawning horror that this mystery onset of symptoms was disturbingly close to scurvy, prompting me to go to the dr and low and behold I basically had la croix flowing through my veins with how terrible my blood levels were.

I was moving out for grad school within the season and i really didnt want to start that with a goddamn captain hook ass disease so for months I had to macrodose on vitamin C like I was a prized guinea pig. seeing those huge tablets still gives me flashbacks.

what gets funny is literally within the week of learning I had scurvy....I also had a major ocular melanoma scare. of which one of the treatments is to surgically remove the eye and/or have eyepatches involved. so for a few months in the summer of 2021 i was hobbling around with scurvy and an eyepatch on this beautiful green world of ours.

[chthonia27]

Divine paradox

Dick Grayson x F!reader.

Content: Two unlikely souls entwined in a sacred affinity, the dance of Life and Death, a romance etched in the skies.

Tw: nudity, suggestive tone implied.

WC: 2k

Yin and Yang, push and pull. Life and death. That was a dance performed since the beginning of time. The balance needed so that the cosmos don’t devolve into chaos, so that all may know the value of life, and the importance of death. Sat on his throne, dressed in the finest of fabrics and engraving of pure gold, a halo of light surrounding his raven hair, was the God of life, Dick. The benevolent ruler of the universe, creator of all life and love, protector of souls. Everything the god touched, life would prosper. His sacred space, the realm to which he resides in, what could only be described as paradise, paled in comparison to his longing for Death.

He ran a thumb over the carved intricacies of his throne, his pink lips curled into a pout as his soul sang in longing for his counterpart, needing her presence always beside him. The god of life was rather.. clingy, to say the least. Such a primordial would be expected to act impartial, however he was absolutely taken by his love. Huffing and puffing, he bridged the distance to her realm without much difficulty. A cold, lifeless interval, wherein his love resided. Death. Such a misunderstood primordial being. She wasn’t evil by any means, contrary to popular belief. Merely continuing the cycle, no matter how intimidating, or outright spine chilling her presence was, she cared for the souls she looked after and justly punished those who have led less than desirable lives, allowing them to atone and relive the pain they’ve caused before their souls may evolve. She was anything but cruel, forgiving in fact. Comforting the souls of the lost, the sick, the injured and the young, a solace for their frayed souls.

Death. So just, so equal to all, so final. It was beautiful, really. How the creations he’d created with his own essence and loved so dearly would always be in her sweet embrace when the time called for it. Almost as if a piece of him would always be with her, cared for in the darkness of the underworld and in her cold yet loving embrace. At least that’s how he viewed it. The God of Life promptly arrived to the gates of none other than the terror of most entities. Calling out to his love, rather obnoxiously, he entered her realm. Death was.. difficult, to say the least. Authorative, hard headed, cold and incredibly standoffish, she was. But hauntingly beautiful, her entire being called out to the god of life’s like no other, akin to the sea nymphs that lured unsuspecting sailors into the trenches of the dark ocean depths. The moon to his sun, the counterpart to his being, his soulmate. The flower to which the beast of his jealousy guards ever so fiercely. None other designed so perfectly for him, and he for her, an indestructible bond so pure shared between the two divinities, a bond so etched into their souls unlike anything ever seen. She was always so curt and dry, never sparing another glance or thought to other beings of the galaxy, never paying any mind to the fruitless dramas that roamed the community of the gods, focusing solely on her duties. He however coaxed another complex faction of hers since the dawn of time, albeit subtle. Wether it was how he’d always pique her interest, her eyes trailing him wherever he’d advance, or the softening of her gaze and even the way she’d pepper gentle kisses to the slope of his nose and the contour of his jaw in the comfort of their realms, he knew deep within his being that he was loved.

”My Death! Where are you, my love?”, he yelled as he passed her soulless garden. Decaying roses, bare and withering trees along the edges of the stream of souls, dried soil and thorned vines covering the masses of the land, but he could only see beauty in it all. Beauty in her. He made his way to her throne room, the very same one to which all beings would enter and be passed judgment upon. His silk, white robes dragging at the stone as he walked to her, his eyes sparkling with sincere, unmistakable endearment as he eyed her form perched on her throne.

“My Death, there you are. I’ve missed you. Still brooding?” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips as he kissed her knuckles. “No smile for me? Not even happy to see me? You wound me, dear. I shall die by the cold hands of death herself. Poetic, no?” He complained with no real malice, only meaning to rile her up. It’s fair to say he isn’t the only one who draws out a different narrative from the other, as she always brought out his mischief, his inner most chaos, and yet still displayed in ways that were reverential to her.

“Must you always be so boisterous in your arrival?”

A deep, velvety laugh escaped him as his eyes fixed on her alluring face, the softness of her plush lips pleading to be kissed. “I am simply expressing my enthusiasm for finally being in your presence after eons of not being in your graces, beloved.” She gave him a deadpan expression as she replied, “it has only been an hour since you last left.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“For you.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress the fond smile that graced her ethereal features, in turn igniting a deep sense of satisfaction in the aforementioned god. She lifted herself from her throne and wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling his chest as she inhaled the naturally intoxicating aroma of the earthy and slightly Smokey notes of her beloved.

“Ah, so you do have a heart.”

“Must you always ruin the moment?”

He gasped dramatically, almost shifting his weight completely on her as he feigned faintness. “Beloved! Must you always be so cruel to your husband?!” He bellowed out, his loudness echoing in the throne room in such a way that almost caused him to wince, the weight of his body crushing his beloved and nearly making her loose her footing.

“Ugh! Dick!”

“You remember my name!”

They both knew well she’d intentionally said it with a dual meaning behind her words, but they’d chosen to ignore it for now. He wrapped his hands on the back of her thighs, hoisting her up so that she may wrap her legs over his waist. He pressed a reverent kiss to her collar bone and to the sternum of her chest, nipping lightly at her cleavage before meeting her gaze once more. He simply admired her beauty, one so unmatched and unique, one that plagued his mind and has during his entire existence. A beauty so special he could worship until the ends of time. The look in his eyes could only be described as love-struck, pupils blown wide and his lips parted as he imagined the feel of once more capturing hers in a kiss. She was perfect, the epitome of beauty to him, no other could ever hold candles to his beloved. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the crevice of her neck before setting her down once more.

“Come with me.”

“Oh?”

That piqued his interest, curious eyes searching her face for any inkling as to what she had planned. She took his hand in hers and turned around, leading him from the throne room to her private chambers, and he couldn’t help but notice how hypnotically her hips swayed as she walked. The soulfully tied divinities navigated through the large expanse of the underworld before arriving at her bedchambers, entering the adjoining bathroom. His eyes scanned the area, a large crystal bathtub, that could truthfully be classed as pool due to its sheer size, coated in rose petals, candles situated on every surface of the room. He inhaled deeply, the sweet scent of vanilla tickling his senses.

“What’s this, beloved?”

“I’ve missed you.”

His heart flipped and his chest tightened with affection at her declaration. The love he felt coursing through his veins only sizzled beneath his tanned skin. He gently backed her up on the sink, forehead resting against hers as he kissed the corners of her mouth.

“Let me help you.”

Slowly, he placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs gently rubbing the nape of her neck. “Hm, my love, so beautiful..” His fingers found the straps of her dress, slowly slipping them off her shoulders and lowering them down her arms to expose her skin. Ever so gently, he ran his hands over the now exposed skin, admiring her like it was the first time he saw her nude body.

He slowly untied the back of her dress, lowering it further, the soft, silky material falling to her hips. “My beautiful mistress of death..” He gently pulled her body against his, his hands trailing over her bare chest and stomach. He continued to shower her in kisses, his lips moving down her neck and shoulder, his hand exploring her body. His mouth soon found her ear, his breath warm against her skin as he whispered quietly.

“I’m the most fortunate god in the whole universe.”

Kneeling down, he slid the dress completely off of her, gently lifting her legs and pressing kisses from her calves up to her thighs, worshipping her form with the purest of devotions. Once done, the god stood in between her legs, arms wrapped around her waist as he lowered himself to press a chaste kiss to her lips, tongue darting out to lick along her bottom lip, seeking entry into the warm cavern of her mouth. When permitted, the muscle danced with her own, exploring the familiarity of her as he tugged her impossibly closer, the feeling of her soft hands coming to unrobe him sending shivers down his spine. After the soft material of his clothing had pooled at his feet, he hoisted her up once more and slowly sat in the bathtub, his beloved straddling his lap as he continued the kiss, calloused hands palming at the softness of her skin, then moving to cup her face and run his digits through the silky strands on her head. The aroma of vanilla wafted through the room, the gentle flicker of the flames licking divinely on her features, illuminating her beauty even more. He pulled back only to catch his breath, the sensation of her bare body on his enough to make him want to abandon everything and spend eternity in the safety of her arms. He wordlessly pulled her flush against him, her soft curves contrasting with the hard planes of his hard chest and abdomen, lips coming to pepper kisses on her temples as he began to wash her. Skilled fingers massaging at her scalp, rinsing and repeating his steps before applying the conditioner to her strands. He loved to cater to her, his presence in the cosmos was designed for this. To love her, worship her as she should be. He then began to soothe the knots out of her tense shoulders, lips suckling at her neck, leaving evidence of his love in the physical form, gently washing her stresses away.

After completing their routine, lovingly caring for the other in such cherished ways, they simply continued to hold one another, whispering sweet nothings as the worries of their days melted away into the abyss of the forgotten. The warm water washed over the pair as they embraced, their bodies moulding into one, testament of their affections. Their skin slick and smooth from the water, arms around each other, relishing in the security provided within each other, the consolation of their presence a soothing balm to their souls, a comfort only they could find in each other away from the rest of the cosmos.

In the quietness of their moment, in the safety of their embrace and the intimacy thick with their love, there truly is no other place the god of life would rather be.

“I love you.”

[fillinforlater]

Paradise

Male Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 4646 words

Tags: non-smut, story heavy drama, angsty, best friends, young love, looking for paradise

TW: to avoid spoilers, assume all trigger warning apply (I promise nothing sexual!)

Inspiration: "Paradise" by Coldplay (I love that song. Others have inspired me as well e.g. "Clocks" but this is THE one).

(A/N: Happy Anniversary to me <3 fricking 2 years since y'all had to read my first fic. Thanks for all the support! Enjoy this fic that means a lot to me. @firagaarmor, this ones for you too!)

“Can you tell me what paradise is?”

You raise your eyes over the sharp edge of your book, your mind still lost in the adventures of a young sailor, trying to make a name for himself and fighting with the deadly, dark blue sea and the temptation of strong liquor. He’s a brave man, firmly gripping the loose end of a rope to hold the sail steady while a thunderstorm makes his life seem defenseless, fragile, miniscule. The book is too tense, too captivating to stop now!

But then you continue to look past all the letters on old, yellowed paper, straight to her face. Feel her strong gaze grab you and freeze you in place with nothing but softness and innocence. Suddenly, the meaning these words had on you evaporates; the capturing story is nothing but a hallucination you experience while staring at them. You are not hallucinating now. She is here, she is real—and she is absolutely gorgeous.

“Paradise?” you sum up her question in a rather uncertain whisper, Gaeul nods nonetheless.

“Yes!” her eyes beam with thrill and she closes the gap between you and her on the couch. Usually, the two of you leave some space on the worn-out, white sofa, with you reading in one corner and Gaeul resting in the other. It’s rare for her to be this close; it makes you trip up and drop the book on your chest. “Tell me all about it.”

“Well it’s… simple, yet also very complex, you know?” You scratch the back of your head and avoid her face. Straight brown hair frames her soft features, puts a stark contrast between dark beauty and pale beauty, while every nook and cranny on it is just flawlessly carved—you’re red now.

“You need to tell me everything!” Gaeul insists.

“F-fine. Paradise is the place that we go to after we die. We of course don’t know if it’s real or not or if we have to do something or believe something to get in it. Maybe it’s guarded by angels, gods or titans! Maybe it’s just something we tell ourselves to feel better about what death might be: just nothingness. Sometimes people imagine heaven to be this overwhelmingly marvelous forest, where everything is in harmony. Sometimes they see it as a golden gate with everything perfect and beautiful behind it. Sometimes people just call some place on earth paradise.”

“Why?” Gaeul asks, her ears twitching but not really twitching. She is just excited to listen to you, probably. “Where is this place?”

“Well, uhm,” you mutter and scratch harder. Surely you’ll find an answer that will satisfy her. “I think you need to find this place yourself. Like I said, everyone thinks paradise is something different.”

Gaeul nods with the eagerness and naivety of a child. She still possesses this deeply rooted innocence, this greed for knowledge and finding new things. All these years of school could not squeeze it out of her, no belittling, no bullying, nothing can break her spirit. You adore her for it, you envy her for it.

“Paradise,” she says and returns to her original position. “Paradise, paradise.”

She smiles.

“I want to see it with you.”

#

Gaeul and you are stuck to each other like glue. God put this glue on you from the very beginning. Gaeul was born seventeen days after you, in the same hospital, and grew up in the same street, in the same town as you. You’d always meet her at the playground and from wordlessly playing with her in the sand to fighting and hating her, you felt every emotion towards her every day for all those long kindergarten days. 

In school, it was more or less the same. Other people were always interesting for Gaeul, but she kept them at a distance, unlike you, who she never ignored or turned down. You were a bit more difficult back then, frankly, the teasing from the other boys about her was annoying, but you got over it the day you found out she liked the same songs.

“Seventeen?” she chirped when you mentioned their debut track. “You like Seventeen?”

“Well, yes. This song sounds very… nice,” you whispered, phone in hand, eyes on the pavement.

“Do you know all their names?”

“Ha, no way! There is like so many of them.”

Gaeul grins and grabs your hand. Triumphantly, she announces: “I know all of them, all thirteen! I guess I’m smarter than you!”

“Pah, I-I was born seventeen days before you. I’m older and I’m smarter!”

“No~”

The bickering made you bond, while the fantastic songs of Seventeen drowned out all foreign criticism. You found more and more things to like and dislike about each other, which made every day spent together worth it. Be it playing games together, preparing food (let’s be honest, you mostly just tried mixing random ingredients and had her mom save it in the end) or just chilling on the couch—it never got boring.

It was about a year ago when you noticed that she had these long phases where she just did nothing. Her small body was positioned on the couch, always the same way on the same spot, and then she would look into nothingness. You wanted to tease her for it, for being a daydreamer, someone who spaces out and drools while doing it, yet you stopped.

She is so pretty.

You admired her. There was no drool, no dumb, mindless dreaminess in her eyes. She was in her own world, thinking of something so incredible, it made her beam with life. Her eyes were like orbs, set ablaze by golden light. Movies could never get her attention and admiration for this long—movies could never get your attention and admiration for this long. You were the one staring, you were the one drooling over how everything about her is just so flawless—you still do.

This was the day you noticed you liked her. 

Seventeen days later came the day she asked about paradise.

That was the day she stole your heart.

…

Today is the day a cruel devil came to smash it into pieces.

Being friends with Gaeul for almost twenty years, it is only natural that her parents would inform you as soon as possible. You dropped your phone as the words left the speaker, it’s smashing on the floor goes unnoticed by you. Seconds later, you’re already on the street, on the run, straight to her parents’ house. You didn’t need to ring, her father wordlessly held the door open and pointed to her room. 

She sits on her bed, her lower body tugged in a blanket, her back against the wall, her eyes… shut. You look at her mother, a mess of tears and snot; it’s not yet on her face but the moment she looks at you it, the dams break. Her knees unstable, she walks out of the room into her husband's arms. 

“Gaeul, I—”

You look at her again. Her eyes are open, focused on the opposing wall, the sparkle of life, wonder, joy still strong, but it’s slowly getting drowned in this puddle of tears that glisten in them, a stain on her that you can’t bear to see. So you kneel down, reach for her hand and watch her leave whatever world she tried to escape into.

“Gaeul, I-I’m sorry,” you stammer out, your hands the ones shivering more, though you’d love to think that you’re strong and she is the one folding. 

“It’s not your fault, dumbo,” she semi-laughs, semi-sighs. Then she rasps: “Nothing you can do about it.”

“I-I know… and I hate it.”

Silence. You look at her chest, slowly heaving up and down in a rhythmic cycle, gently increasing when you squeeze her hand and she looks down on it. Gaeul cracks a small smile, a smile so full of pain, every second you look at it is sending daggers to your chest. 

Rage is building up inside you. Feel it creep up every limb, every toe, every finger, up to your head where you imagine the cruelest things you could do to the devil or deity who let this happen, no, who made this happen. They are a devil, and you will go down into the depths of hell to make them suffer for eternity. 

How could they do this to her? What did she do? She doesn’t deserve this! 

And you don’t deserve this either. What did you do, to see pain and horror like this? What did you do to hold a warm hand soon to be cold? What did you do, to see the love of your life become nothing but ash and dust, buried somewhere in the ground, forgotten in two generations, a life too short, too cruel to even call it that?

I’ll—

“Do you remember,” Gaeul suddenly asks, her voice soft and calming, like the wonderful, nostalgic wife you never had, you never will have. “The day I asked you about paradise?”

“Of course I do!” you blurt out, voice a bit hoarse. You could never forget the day you fell in love with her.

“You said that people can find paradise here on earth,” Gaeul starts. “I know I should probably go look for it myself but… can you go with me and show me paradise?”

The tears she held back in her eyes must have found their way to yours. Your vision is all blurry, your voice barely registers, but you are certain she hears you and knows what you're saying. You would never let her down, and in this moment, no feeling could be stronger.

“Of course, Gaeul. A-anything for you.”

#

You have only heard of cancer from these dramatic movies that people watch and then cry. Maybe somewhere in the news or a documentary, but then it was usually older people, not young and youthful spirits—those who don't think that a tragedy is right around the corner, waiting to rip apart their bodies, souls but first of all, their dreams.

Gaeul’s condition got worse rapidly. For the first two weeks, Gaeul’s mom would call you every other night because something seemed to be up. She was throwing up, had a high fever, the doctor was late, she didn’t respond—some of them were clearly only in the head of Gaeul’s mother who started to smoke again, the butts of cigarettes soon littering the tiled kitchen floor.

You’re not at all better though. Every time the phone rang, you ran over to her; throughout all other seconds of the day, you were frozen in place. Like a puppet, you sat on your bed, blankly staring at the wall and into nothing. Your body is perfectly fine, nothing hurts or is out of place yet everything feels agonizing in its meaninglessness. 

You can’t even light up this tiny, simmering flame you always see in Gaeul’s eyes when you enter her room. It has not faded, no tears, no vomit, no painful breaths, nothing has put it out. It’s remarkable, beautiful, it’s the only thing that rids you of your agony for a moment. 

When she was just a girl, Gaeul expected the world to tell her everything, to the minutest of details to the broadest of concepts. She sucked it all up like a sponge and let the mechanisms in her small, pretty head work with it for hours. Now it’s about to fly away from her reach in a cruel race where the world might only be jogging, but Gaeul legs are literally withering away under her tiny weight.

Yet you see the dreams in her eyes. She will not relent until she has—

Paradise.

Not even past the door frame, you drop the backpack to the ground. Gaeul jumps a bit and smiles at you in confusion. Your expression must be bewildering, funny, but she has no idea with what conviction your heart is finally urging your stupid brain to get going.

“Hey, what’s up? You alright?” she asks.

“Gaeul.” You reach for her hand, down on your knees to be level with the small, bedridden girl. “I’m going to look for it.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“I will look for it and find it! A-and then, I’m going to take you there, I promise!”

Gaeul looks at you funny, her free hand pushing away your torso in a playful gesture. A coughing fit interrupts her initial chuckle. “You’re playing around, talking weird stuff. But it’s funny.”

“No, I mean it—

“Paradise, Gaeul, I’m going to look for it—and I will find it for you.”

“Really?”

Really?

#

Early in the morning, the sky is still more dark, navy blue than anything else, you stuff whatever you might need into your backpack. Long forgotten and unnecessary are those school books and pens; you’ve not lost a thought about that in weeks. Frantically, you replace them with snacks, some water bottles, a map, a book, a phone, a towel, a shovel and a pocket knife. No dehydration, no getting lost, no boredom will prevent you from undertaking a journey to—

Where to, you wonder. The compass on your phone points in directions, probably the right ones, but it’s meaningless, useless. The correct route to paradise has to come from your heart. Your heart has already embedded its needle in the magnetic field that is Gaeul, now all you need to do is feel in which direction it points. 

On the calm streets of this town you walk, along pretty houses which were always the start to all of yours and Gaeul’s games and adventures. It never ended here however. The two of you were always drawn to what's beyond the tarmac, the stones, the plastic. It all changes, quickly blurs to a mix of brown and green, every color in between, on this spectrum. On the soft soil of the forest underneath your feet, mixed with crunchy leaves and crunchier twigs, your adventure continues.

You might be closer, but this is definitely not yet paradise. Beautiful, but you can find it elsewhere equally as beautiful. Without second thoughts, you march on, deeper into the woods towards the pull. Gaeul’s magnetic field has this tendency to swirl off the main road. Suddenly, you find yourself in between thick bushes and young trees that make walking through them quite challenging. 

Some plants wrap themselves around you like vines trying to hold you back. Slash them with the knife, bite into an apple and don’t stop for nothing. Soon, you find parts of the forest completely unbeknownst to you. The green looks darker, sunlight is a bit sparse and more animals run through your field of view. Bird, mice, dear, they all seem to look at you and when you hush and look back, it’s—

Peaceful. A piece of heaven, of paradise?

Though this spot may fill you with wonder and calm your heart, it's not yet paradise. It's all fleeting; the animals jump at your first motion, all it takes is a single cloud blocking the sun and its soft, faint rays are gone as well. You have to move onwards, past the mushrooms and moss, the deepest you have ever been in this forest.

Thousands of steps later, the dryness in your throat and the hole in your stomach force you to take a break. In midst all the tall, blooming trees you find a patch of grass, a glade, untouched by man. A perfect resting spot for the wild life, unbothered, untouched beauty. You feel a bit out of place, but you won't deny that it's a privilege to just sit down and take a breather.

You quickly down sandwiches and the water, realizing that both are not enough to quench your hunger and thirst. The sun is barely visible from here—how long has your adventure lasted until now? At some point you need to turn around, find your way back; thank God for phones and Google Maps, otherwise you'd be lost forever.

Amongst all of nature's sounds, you suddenly hear the splattering of water, probably in a small creek nearby. You grab your things and move closer to the source. The splattering gets louder and louder, oh, what you would give for the water to be clean and drinkable. 

Uneven terrain and bushes block your way, but you can see the sun bursting through small gaps in between branches. You find an angle, with less thorns and stinging nettles and cut your way through it. Feel your heart throb in excitement, even when nature tries to resist you. There is something behind this, and now you are free to—

Close your eyes, because this cannot be real.

A picture before you, beautiful drawn, everything perfectly decorated, yet it cannot explain the stunningness of the sight before you. A wide open cliff gives you a perfect view of the entire forest and the lake in its middle. To your left, the outskirts of the city, only a couple of streets with both a school and hospital in sight. To your right a miniscule waterfall, fueled by the aforementioned creek. Everything is overstimulating, yet absolutely coherent in both its vibrantness and peacefulness. 

Best of all, above a small rock overhang along this cliff, a pair of butterflies seem to happily dance around each other, blissfully unaware of the steep fall below them. No, they just love each other. Both swing their colorful wings to their own rhythm, not caring if someone sees, not allowing anyone to disturb them. 

You carefully step towards their overhang, take a look down and see that it might be a dangerous fall, but you don’t feel any danger in this place. It is cozy, relaxing and quiet. There is nothing to fear, not even boredom. There is unlimited adventure and excitement amongst these gigantic trees, they embrace you with their twigs and tuck you in with their leaves. You can stay here for eternity, in fact you almost want to.

But not without Gaeul.

“I think I found it,” you’ll tell her. “I think I found paradise.”

#

“Gaeul is in the hospital.”

Your mothers first words when you return from your trip. The strain on your muscles, your back, your hands; they fade into the background the moment you realize what might be happening.

“What, why?”

“Her health has been… rapidly declining the last two days,” your mother says and urges you to sit down. You do not. “At some point, I could hear her scream from across the street, she… she has to be in so much pain.”

“A-and then?” You can barely stand standing around and not being by her side.

“They came like two hours ago, took her to the lake-side hospital. Her mother is—”

“I’m going there,” you say, drop your backpack and turn on your heels. Your mother sighs, deeper than ever. There is tears and misery in her eyes.

“I… don’t want you to go. You shouldn’t see this.”

“Mum, I will go. Why would you stop me? I need to be there; I can’t leave her now!”

Your mother stands up. You watch her reach for a cup of tea and drink the entire thing. Maybe it wasn’t tea. Maybe she needed some strength right now. This strong woman has never looked so vulnerable to you. She reaches for your hand.

“Okay… I’ll drive you.”

#

“You came,” Gaeul whispers, her voice hoarse, her eyes puffy, her skin pale. Well, she has always been quite the pale girl, but now her skin is rivaling snow in terms of whiteness. You push away a doctor and a relative or two and reach for one of Gaeul’s fragile hands.

“Of course I did. I’m never not there.” You smile.

“There you go, saying silly things again.” Gaeul smiles.

This is where you lose yourself in her eyes, those deep brown marbles, like bitter yet sweet chocolate—fitting to the overall mood in this hospital room. While you continue to stare into Gaeul’s dreams, the people around you go through all those stages of grief in front of the doctors, their powerless deities. Denial in her fathers voice, anger in the way her mother grabs her brother, they are bargaining, well onto their way into depression.

But Gaeul is still right there. She is still breathing. She is still breathing, even after they all leave the room. You stay by her side, long after midnight and most of the time, you just listen to her breath. Weak and shallow, but enough to keep her going. Then it starts to rain.

“Did we play in the rain back then?” you ask, looking out through the window into the dark clouds and the impending torrential downpour. 

“Once or twice for sure,” Gaeul responds. You feel her eyes in your neck. “We should have done it more often.”

“Yeah, but only when the rain is warm.” Caress her knuckles. Gaeul sighs.

“Then I could have seen paradise in the rain.”

Feel a rush of excitement run down your spine when you turn to her.

“Gaeul, I think I found it. I found paradise! It’s not far from here. Let’s go there tomorrow or the day after—”

“Y-you did?” Gaeul suddenly squeezes your wrist tightly. “Where is it?” 

“Near the lake, secluded in the forest. It’s beautiful—I’ll show it to you.”

“C-can we go now… please?”

Your eyes widen, your breath quickens. Someone has a belt wrapped around your chest and gradually tightens it. It’s as if there is poison in the air draining your life. This can’t get to you—no, it cannot be true. All the dreadful thoughts, you push them to the side, though they sink into your heart like the pointiest of knives. In your turmoil, you forget to answer.

Gaeul props herself up and stretches her arms out.

“Take me there, please.

“I want to see it tonight.”

No matter how much your heart bleeds, you find a way to work. For your best friend, the childhood love, the—current love. You easily pick up the thin girl and she finds the strength to secure herself on your back. She is light and heartbreakingly weak. Everything falls on you now.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” you hiss when you piggyback carry the girl out of the room and quietly sneak her out through the fire exit. “But I’ll try my best to be your hero, Gaeul.”

“Don’t be some hero from your book,” Gaeul whispers, her lips right on your earlobe. “Just be you, that’s cool enough already.”

The rain is worse than you expected. Thick droplets a plenty make all colors of the quite illuminated town blurr. You just know you have to run away from them, towards the forest. There the roof of leaves will protect you from getting more soaked—which is not possible. After only a hundred meters, both you and Gaeul are two human sponges, drenched in heavenly water.

“It’s warmer than I thought,” Gaeul croaks as you sprint down the final street where the trees finally start. “Let’s play in this rain.”

“S-sure,” you grunt through gritted teeth, your exhausted legs barely keeping you upright. At the first tree, you take a breather. “But let’s get to paradise first.”

“How long is it?”

“About a kilometer. Can you hold my phone?” 

Gaeul grabs it, the faint light showing a messy hill with a hundred reasons to doubt that you can carry her up there. Worriedly, Gaeul clings onto you stronger than before. 

“Isn’t this too steep?”

You smile and adjust Gaeul, the friend on your back and take away all of her doubts by marching onwards, into the mud. Soon your legs are all covered in the heavy mixture of dirt, leaves, twigs, a couple of bugs, some plastic—it’s almost impossible to lift your legs over the taller roots breaching through the ground.

“Sorry that you have to carry me,” Gaeul murmurs, her face sunken into your back. The wind whips above the trees, their tips shake and you get showered in pine needles. You pause for a second, then laugh.

“Look at this mess! Mother nature is really playing with us tonight.”

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t—”

You pull a couple of needles out of Gaeul’s short, muddy, messy hair. In the faint light of your phones’ lamp. She looks like a ghost with barely lit eyes. God, it hurts to see her like this… but you will never deny that she isn’t drop dead gorgeous. The flame in her eyes hasn’t faded yet either. No matter how much fucking water the clouds above you pour down, they burn and they burn into your heart.

“Gaeul,” you say with confidence and unbridled determination as you take the first step on your final surge up to paradise. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t be sad. We are almost there. Hold onto my shoulders and you’ll be fine.”

Gaeul quietly sniffles into your thoroughly wet t-shirt, only a few tears, yet each of them is like a waterfall and adds to the weight of the most water you have ever seen in your life. Not even the oceans can compare to whatever mother nature has decided to unleash onto this area. If this is what it takes to get Gaeul to heaven, you will swim through it.

Again and again, until the end of time. And then you’ll still do it.

A bush brushing over your bodies, its evil thornes piercing your skin. You don’t feel it. Your hand shelters Gaeul, before pushing away the final branches of a familiar oak tree. There it is. Your heart skips a beat. You sink to your knees.

“Hey! Hey, are you okay?” Gaeul shouts, then she looks ahead. In this exact moment, a miracle: a lightning bolt in the distance, bright and wide, hits a far away field. Everything is illuminated, the ridiculous beauty of paradise visible in the middle of the night—for your best friend to see.

“What do you think?” you ask, out of breath and smiling brightly, brighter than the lightning. Gaeul has gotten off of your back and her weak legs carry her towards the overhang. The visual is impeccable, epic on so many levels, it’s like the grand finale to the universe:

Gaeul, the love of your life, looking at her paradise. It should be impossible, but she stands there. What might her face look like right now? You don’t need to see it to know. 

Suddenly, she turns back around and sinks down on the floor. You try to catch her. A second to late, all you can do is prop her back up, shake the collar of her hospital gown. Her eyes are barely open, her lips tremble. You hug her tightly, not caring about the mud below you.

“Gaeul… no!”

Lying underneath the stormy skies, the only thing holding her in this world are your arms underneath her. Gaeul stretches out her pointer towards the horizon.

“I know the sun will rise.”

Her voice is but a whisper in the downpour, quieter than even the waterfall of tears running down your face—but it’s powerful enough to pull a single, all illuminating beam of sunlight from the edge of the world. In a final, painful but infinitely freeing breath, Gaeul says it all:

“This could be… you could be… no—

“You are my paradise.”

“Gaeul, I love you!”

As if to say ‘I love you too’, she puts her cold lips on yours a final time and flies away, forever. You hold her forever, kiss her forever, love her forever while the strongest gusts of wind don’t feel like anything. Gaeul is in your arms, looking so alive with her closed eyes and peaceful smile; but it’s all not true.

You decide to fall 

faster than the rain drops, 

faster than the waterfall 

and then meet her; 

for she is your paradise.

[qierxing]

Fathoms Below

Commissioned by the amazing rainbowsillz

TW/CW: Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy coping mechanisms and mindsets, Blackmailing, Threats of Violence Yan!Azul x Mer! Reader

You're not exactly a go-getter.

It's not in your species' nature to be so, when one of your greatest strengths is to simply go with the flow and see where the sea currents take you. Even in the darkest trench, you'll always find a way through (using your handy glow in the dark biology).

It is, however, just like you to be curious when the waves take you to the next interesting destination. 

This shipwreck must be recent. Last time you were here, you don't recall broken masts and a proud figurehead buried in the sand here. You float along while examining the wreckage with a meticulous gaze. The glimmers of buried jewelry here and there don't interest you. No, you have no interest in such trinkets.

There's a gaping hole within the port side, jagged wood ripped into razor sharp teeth revealing the insides. It's dark and cloudy with mud and debris, but that's no issue for you. Rot and time have claimed the interior, but there's still some items that survive. As you swim closer, you discover quite a few things littering a toppled desk. 

There's a glass bottle that is scratched and covered in dirt but still intact. Within, there's parchment rolled up, perfectly preserved and safe from the salt waters. You tuck the bottle away in your bag, making sure it's snug inside so there's no chance it would fall out. Another cursory glance has you catching a curious metal object, no bigger than a clam shell, with strangely colored needles inside. You decide to also pocket it, just in case it turns out to be useful.

All in all, it's a fruitful exploration that has you quite satisfied. You are tempted to continue, but the rays of light are already dimming above into sunset, and your parents would not be happy about having to spend hours finding you again, especially not in a new unfamiliar area.

But just as you're almost to the colony where your family has settled down, you hear some strange sounds. Mischievous laughter mixed with crying has you turning your head in mild confusion. Following the commotion, you find a clearing with a large metal pot, surrounded by several other merfolk. You vaguely recognize them as your neighbors, their faces somewhat flickering in your memory. 

"What's so funny?" The quiet question has them turning around in panic, surprised by your unexpected presence. There's some awkward coughs and furtive glances exchanged between the gaggle.

A nearly unnoticeable teary sniffling has you glancing at the pot, realizing someone must be inside. When your suspicious eyes meet the clique's again, their faces sour as they sheepishly swim away, clearly annoyed they were deprived of their fun. 

It doesn't take much to piece two and two together. Sighing, you wait for a moment, then two, but nothing else happens. The mysterious sniffling has stopped but there is no sign of them being willing to leave the dark pot.

The calls of your parents carry on the currents, lulling you back home. You chance another indifferent glance back before swimming off towards home.

—

Apparently, the metal circular item you found is called a ‘compass’ by humans. According to your father, at least. When you pester him more about it, he shrugs and says that human sailors would use it to find their way on their voyages. The red needle would supposedly point you to your path. That was the only thing he knew about it.

You’re absolutely delighted with this fascinating discovery. So much so, that you can barely contain your excitement during class to go and test your gadget. 

"[First] [Last], are you listening?!" You let out a shocked yelp at your compass being swiped away by another finned hand. Your teacher peers down at you with disapproval in her beady eyes. The compass glints in her claws, just out of reach. 

"Pay attention to the lesson. You can retrieve your toy tomorrow." And with that, you watch sullenly as she swims away with your treasure. Snickers echo around you from your classmates but you ignore them, propping open your notebook in annoyance. The day seems longer without your compass in hand, but finally, the bell rings and class is over for the day.

The rest of your classmates waste no time swimming out the door, chattering about plans and playdates and what not, but you still remain in your seat, vindictive and resentful. 

"I can't even test out that compass until tomorrow." You slump over and your head hits the coral slate with a dull thud. Ms. Ulyana can be so stingy sometimes. Besides, you already knew everything taught in the magical theory section today.

"Excuse me?" You don't bother raising your head, still moping about the loss of your precious gadget. 

"What." You're not in the mood to be made fun of or exchange polite conversations at the moment.

"Isn't this yours?" You sit up abruptly, and see a young octopus mer holding the compass in his hands. You vaguely remember him sitting in the back of the room, hunched over his notebook, his glossy silver locks covering his face. 

"How did you…?" He smiles faintly with mischief flickering in his pupils.

"Octo-mers are great at camouflage, did you know?" The boy shrugs casually, setting down the gadget in front of you. “And…” He starts mumbling, fidgeting nervously with his fingers where you can’t hear him. 

“Er, what did you say? I didn’t catch that.” You awkwardly interject. 

“It’s….it’s thanksforhelpingmeout!” He blurts out quickly. This time, you hear him perfectly clear and stare at him in mild confusion. When did you help him out? You wrack your brains but come up empty. Instead of embarrassing him by denying it, you just nod along.

“Well, still, thanks. I’ve been waiting all day to try this out.” You grin. “You’re the coolest, uh…”

“A-Azul. Azul Ashengrotto.”

“You’re the best, Azul,” You hold out a confident hand. “I’m [First]. Wanna be friends?”

He hesitates, eyes staring intensely at your open palm offered. “Y…You want to be friends with me?”

You tilt your head. “I think anyone willing to get into trouble for me is worth befriending.”

“Even if…I’m just a crybaby and octo-twerp?” His lower lip trembles, teary voice nearly cracking.

“Who called you that?!” You put your hands on your hips, raising a tentacle to intertwine with one of his own. “I’ll give them a hearty zap if they do such a thing!” Azul splutters as you administer a gentle shock through your tentacles. It’s absurd enough to make him burst out laughing and you join in happily. 

Within that small classroom, a fond memory is created with that childish laughter.

—

The compass seems to get wonky underwater in the depths, so you reluctantly take to the shallows where the sea pressure is a little nicer to your gadget. 

It's strange to be so close to the sky as merfolk. The clouds remind you of the sulfurous gasses that are spewed in the deeper marine trenches. But it's much more transparent compared to the opaque heavier gas, lighter and much more friendlier looking. 

The red needle points straight ahead, and you breach just slightly, spotting a beach in the distance. Despite reservations, you drift closer, still only keeping your face above to render your sight usable. 

Misty fog clears and reveals palm trees and jagged rocks littering the golden sands. It's no island, since the land stretches further back into the atmosphere, with no end in sight. But there's no sign of life, save for the seagulls circling above and tiny crabs scuttering below. A little bit disappointing for your destination.

The stories you heard from elders were always about wild islands with treacherous fauna and mysterious treasure buried deep underground. Maybe even a group of thieves lurking around. This was just a barren reef that held naught but the bones of those unfortunate to wash up here. 

Still, you move forward, trying to see if there’s anything at all on the sand. Some multi-colored sea shells here and there, hardly in the condition to be collected, let alone be traded for with others. You glance at the compass in your hands with an annoyed huff.

“Useless thing…” You mutter under your breath. It’s a childish hope, but you had thought it would lead you to somewhere amazing, that you could tell your own tale about. That way, Azul could finally stop scoffing at you for your ‘ridiculous’ dreams and prove everyone else wrong.

The item barely makes a sound when it meets sand, and you turn away. The disappointment has already dampened your spirit to the point where you want to find the darkest nook and curl up and sleep.

A throat clears behind you, and you freeze at the unexpected sound.

“I believe this is yours?” The voice is tinged with specks of haughtiness that has your hackles raising subconsciously. 

A human boy has the compass you tossed in hand, inspecting it with a thoughtful look, before turning that gaze to you. His purple eyes are mesmerizing; they remind you of the vibrant sea shells in the various reefs dotting the Coral Sea. It takes an embarrassing moment for you to compose yourself to finally reply.

“It isn’t anymore.” He raises a judgemental eyebrow, and you almost shrink in on yourself. 

“Why not?” You cross your arms defensively at the judgemental tone. “It isn’t good to litter, you know.”

Your ears burn at the pointed accusation. Is a human seriously going to lecture you about pollution when they’re one of the causes for said situations? 

“That item used to belong to humankind, how is it littering when I am merely returning it to its place on land?”

“In this condition? I’d be surprised if it still works.”

“Well, it clearly didn’t work when I was trying to use it.” You fold your arms petulantly as the boy’s eyes slant in judgemental surprise.

“What use does merfolk have for human gadgets?” You bristle at the questioning tone. “I thought your kind has no need for these kinds of things, since you have an innate sense of direction.”

“So what?” You snap. “Who said that mers weren’t also curious about exploring either?”

“Exploring?”

This back and forth ends in a humiliating embarrassment when Vil (he introduces himself with an air of elegance that makes you think of royalty) informs you that the compass is not some kind of magical gadget that can lead you to your desired location. You thought he would be more smug and condescending about it, but he only patiently explains the usage of the compass and how the red needle is only meant as a stalwart guide, as it will always point north wherever you are. It’s a little disappointing, but still. You could see how it was useful as a human.

“That sucks. I wanna explore a new land one day and be able to tell all about it to my folks.” You flick your tentacle and splash some water out in musing. Vil has settled on a rock near you and now the animosity has simmered away into genuine curiosity for each other. It’s nice. When was the last time you were able to talk this freely about your dreams?

“I’m sure you can,” Vil smiles, and your breath is momentarily taken away. 

It feels good to have someone who believes in you, for once.

—

"...I think he’s a good person.”

The sound of someone choking makes you whip your head to see Azul keeled over his large book volume. After recovering, he looks up at you with incredulous disbelief in his sapphire eyes.

"You can't be serious? He's a human!" He spits, hostility coating his words like tarred ink. 

"Ugh, so what?" You puff out your cheeks. “Why do you have a problem with this anyway?”

“Because he’s a human! And besides, how do you know he won’t do something suspicious like sell off your fins or tentacles once you turn your back, huh?!” Azul retorts, making you roll your eyes. 

“This is not the age of the Sea Witch, Azul, it’s the modern era,” you coldly reply. “And that’s rich coming from you. Did you get that tome from the library or someone else?”

Azul flinches, cheeks blotching into a mottled dark purple as his tentacles writhed around the book as if to protect it from your disdainful gaze. Of course. Last week you swore one of your classmates had become mute, and another one’s P.E grades had dropped drastically, despite performing well in the past years. Azul sure has been working hard perfecting his unique magic these days.

“I earned this book fair and square!” Azul protests. “That human is another thing completely!”

“His name is Vil.” It’s like talking to a stone wall. You knew Azul disliked hearing about Vil, but not to this extent. “And he’s my friend.”

“I’m your friend too!” Aquamarine eyes narrow as your closest friend snarls at you. “Doesn’t that mean anything?!”

“Not when you’re insulting my other friends!” Without meaning to, your own tentacles begin to thrash in irritation, buzzing with the hum of electricity. “Ugh, forget it. I knew you were going to be like this, just like when you make fun of me for my weird treasure hunting.”

You’re not a fast swimmer, so even if you storm off, it must look silly, just floating away as your tentacles drift behind you. Despite the desperate calls of your name echoing behind you, you don’t turn back at all.

—

Perhaps you should’ve thought about at least making up with Azul before you made your decision.

“How are you going to explore the world if you can’t even leave the sea?” Vil had said with a disapproving frown. “You can’t let sentimentality shackle you from your potential.”

The words echo in the back of your mind. Sentimentality. Yes, that was one way to put a label on your relationship with Azul. You can’t deny entirely that reaching out that hand to him that fateful day was entirely out of a genuine desire to make friends. That little regret permeates the way you end up having to cheer Azul up from another self loathing session or whenever you’re having to reassure him that you won’t ever leave him all alone. It’s not that you actually believe in your words, but rather, it was the quickest way to quiet his tantrums. And although Azul matured greatly in magic and smarts, he never did quite grow out of his childish belief that you would always be there to coddle him. Not even when those sly eels attached themselves to him, taking over your role of being an actual friend.

So you take to the surface with your parents’ tearful blessings, leaving only a brief message with an acquaintance you made in your elementary school days. Rielle had hesitated, but ultimately wished you luck up on the surface. You can’t blame him. If you were braver, you would have made the effort to say the bitter words to your friend yourself. But that would be wasted time on a flood of tears and ink and even worse, a complete meltdown that would take days to mend.

When the volunteers handed you the transformation potion, they told you that although you trade your fins for legs, most mers have to adjust for a long period of time, having been so accustomed to swimming and utilizing your unique biology. At the time, you threw those warnings to the wind and chugged down the potion. Nothing would matter if it meant you could break away from the sea foam. You hadn’t realized the gravity of this until you’re stumbling over yourself and constantly ending up with aching bruises on your knees and shins. 

You hadn’t quite realized, until Azul is the one pushing you back and shrugging your apartment door shut behind him with a deafening click. Although it took you weeks to figure out how to walk without falling, Azul moved with an ease as if he’s always been human. It almost makes you envious enough to forget that he’s pinning you back on a wall, pupils dilated and breathing heavily like a madman. 

“Azul, let go! What the hell? How did you even know where I lived–?!” You’re not entirely panicked, more confused and annoyed. Even if he was erratic at times, he was still that baby octopus. He wasn’t exactly like the Leech eels who were known for their sharp teeth and ability to maul things to shreds. 

“It wasn’t easy, you know,” Azul mutters, a thin sharp grin strained across his face. “Do you know how hard it is to follow your tracks after you abandoned me like that?!” You scoff. One month and he’s already thinking it’s the end of the world that you weren’t glued to his side night and day. 

“Abandon? Please. You must be insane to think that me going to the surface to study is the equivalent of abandoning someone,” you spit back in his face and he recoils only slightly, but still remains steadfast in his strong grip over your hands. Even as you wiggle, he gives no indication of letting go. 

“Well, that doesn’t matter now,” you bristle at the way he ignores your reply. Bad habits die hard– he’s always loved ignoring anything he didn’t want to hear from you when convenient. It’s almost relieving in a way, to see that he hasn’t changed a bit. “We’ll be returning back to the Coral Sea.”

“What?!” Now you’re angry. It’s one thing to hear Azul to be delusional, it’s another to have to entertain those delusions. “You must be out of your Sea Witch’s mind to think that I’ll–” Your words die in your throat when something cold and hard presses to your jugular, digging into your voice box.

“You will.” Azul’s pupils are still dilated, black taking over sapphire pools and leaving only a cold abyss. Your eyes dart down, following the magical pen that gleams with a silvery gemstone that makes your heart almost stop in place. “You will, and you know why, my dear?”

“Because I earned you first, fair and square.”

[onyxmilk]

Can I ask for a young Neil x otaku!reader where they watch anime together on their date?

notes; bro i leave for TN tomorrow morning and leave for the airport at like.. 2-3:00 am, sooo im not sleepin! send in them requests!!!! tw; Reader uses They/Them pronouns!, unedited wc; 0.2k

So! When Young Neil and [YourName] started dating, [YourName] actually waited to say anything to Young Neil about them liking anime.

And it was kind of hard to do so, since it was what took up whatever was in [YourName]'s brain besides Neil.

[YourName] would practically make up any excuse for Neil not to come over and see the room they dedicated to their anime figurines, manga, posters, and DVDs.

And when [YourName] realized they could just shut the door and lock it, they forbade Neil from ever entering the room.

Threatened their relationship on it too, which was total bs- but Neil didn't know that!!

Anyways, eventually, [YourName] started to open up about anime to Neil.

Because they realized, not being able to be yourself in a relationship was hard work.

Sooo it started off with some classic anime movies and it got Neil interested.

"I like the way it's animated."

So, after a bit, [YourName] introduced Neil to some anime like One Piece and Sailor Moon, just excusing three episodes as a movie.

Neil fell for it, each damn time.

Eventually it just got sad, so [YourName] confessed that they had been tricking Neil into watching anime.

"Oh! Like cartoons!"

[YourName] smacked him up against the head for that.

But he genuinely enjoys it!

So they decide to make a date out of it.

[YourName] got the food together and Neil got to pick the anime.

The two of you ate food, drank pop, and watched the anime!

Neil actually liked it! He got to hold on to his partner during the tense parts and he got to just be around [YourName] in general!!

He absolutely loves anime dates <3

[reasaph]

"I don't believe in God, but I believe that your my savior."

Soshiro Hoshina x fem suicidal reader!

Summary: (name), a person who has no beliefs, no reason and will to live gets hospitalized after another attempt. There, she meets Soshiro Hoshina and has looked forward to waking another morning since.

TW: reader is mentally unstable, mentions of unhealthy eating routine, Injuries, Theres prob more

The title come from the song "sailor song" by Gigi perez!

Part 3!

You don't know how long you've been staring, not moving an inch, completely drilled to your place, feet rooted deep in the ground, limbs not daring to flinch. Hoshina was the first to regain composure and control the vast swirl of rigged emotions inside the interior of his heart, clearing his throat to rid of the lump thats been keeping his larynx silent. His action made you made you land back to earth in reciprocation, it splashed a fresh pail full of water on you, enough to awoke your self consciousness. You know the throb in your chest isn't normal, it's not the usual butchering ache that makes you wanna rip yourself apart, but rather a throbbing feeling of longing that has planted itself in the depths of your ribs. Thats the effect he has on you, you feel like chipping off one by one the atoms that form you as a whole and offer it to him as a token of your affection— no, love, a token of your love. It isnt so bad as you thought, atleast not yet. The optimistic feeling society calls love has taken you hostage at gunpoint with Hoshina Soshiro as the bullet, and your willing to take it anytime, welcome him to the bone.

"Ya alright? Snap out of it dummy." he flicked you on the forehead, disturbing the bundle of nerves underneath your skin, it hurts in all honesty. It hurts enough to make you exclaim audibly, you dont think he Added That nuch pressure when, maybe hes just really strong.

"Ow! What was that for?" You soothe the irritated skin, it stung and turned into a reddish hue.

"Aren't ya gonna treat me today? Lets go." Hoshina regrets his action, yet he doesn't want to admit it. He wants to apologize but he doesn't want to face that he's the reason of your pain.

"Just dont order the whole cafeteria." You shrug it off like its nothing, you dont mind. Because your bound to be hurt by him one way or another as long as you feel such a thing for him. But you dont mind, call it masochistic, if you will, but you dont mind if he's the reason of your pain.

As you two waited in line, disposable trays In hand, Hoshina cant help the weird obligation to just keep yapping to keep you here, to keep you entertained. He keeps talking and cracking jokes in fear that you'd get tired of his company, but that was just what he thinks. You could listen to his voice on a broken record, replaying itself numerous times like a mantra, like a chant, saying the same things aan your ear drums will consider itself blessed to hear such a soothing melody. You would heed every note in the soprano of his sounds if he gave you such a privilege.

"Have ya tasted their pancakes? They're delicious." Hoshina blurts out things randomly, no difference here. He's never actually tried the sweet fluff before. He's just desperate to keep talking, to hear your response, the soprano of your voice, the sweet sound of your larynx.

"No, but I'll take your word on it." It's gotten to the point where you'll take his word in anything. If Hoshina says the sky is a green hue, You wont see the sky In the same blue color starting then. You trust him and his silver tongue, you believe if his taste buds find something pleasurable to eat then it is, consider it a controversial opinion.

"Really? Gee, now I'll be responsible if ya dont like it." Again, he absolutely dles not know shit about what the pancakes tasted like. And Hoshina did not know you would take him seriously on that.

"I'll kill you if they taste like shit." You say those words so tenderly, Hoshina almost forgot they were meant to curse him.

The line kept moving forward, step sy step, the two of you inching towards the array of edibles displayed behind glass covers. The scent came rushing into your nostrils, so much you probably guess what's pleasurable to the tongue and whats not. When you two were finally the person in front and all had already llef, you went ahead and took your order of choice, as did Hoshina. The person who tended to the both of you was very nice, not the typical grumpy bitch you'd meet behind the counter. You dont know why but you were more used to that type of service, to that particular ttreatment, to being frowned and looked down upon even though your of an equal human being. The two of you got your food, payed and was excused out of the line so those behind you can have their chance to order what they wish.

"I dont see a table that's empty." So you guys venture further in search of a flat surface free for the taking. The whole cafeteria is oddly full to the brim, patients, visitors and doctors occupied every seat.

"Over there! Although its a bit in the corner." Hoshina was nudging to a disclosed table, its funny, the table resided in a cramped corner, no wonder no one seated on it. The table was left alone in result, no one living up to its purpose.

"I could care less, lets go." You went ahead infront of him, pushing through the compressed crowds, struggling to get past. Hoshina followed behind you, right behind your back. He thinks you look strong at this point of view, your spine stood up straight even when clearing a path. Hoshina just followed in your shadow, he doesn't mind at all, he doesn't mind if you'll take him as your counterpart behind.

Hoshina places down his tray on the flat surface and takes a seat, you reciprocate and sat on the opposite side of him. A particularly cramped space, but it would do. You dont care where, as long as its with him. Hoshina could invite you to the depths of the overwhelming oceans, the tightest room with only less than a meter of width, the very mantle of the earth and you would show up with smiles and a bouqet.You don't know how long you've been staring, not moving an inch, completely drilled to your place, feet rooted deep in the ground, limbs not daring to flinch. Hoshina was the first to regain composure and control the vast swirl of rigged emotions inside the interior of his heart, clearing his throat to rid of the lump thats been keeping his larynx silent. His action made you made you land back to earth in reciprocation, it splashed a fresh pail full of water on you, enough to awoke your self consciousness. You know the throb in your chest isn't normal, it's not the usual butchering ache that makes you wanna rip yourself apart, but rather a throbbing feeling of longing that has planted itself in the depths of your ribs. Thats the effect he has on you, you feel like chipping off one by one the atoms that form you as a whole and offer it to him as a token of your affection— no, love, a token of your love. It isnt so bad as you thought, atleast not yet. The optimistic feeling society calls love has taken you hostage at gunpoint with Hoshina Soshiro as the bullet, and your willing to take it anytime, welcome him to the bone.

"Ya alright? Snap out of it dummy." he flicked you on the forehead, disturbing the bundle of nerves underneath your skin, it hurts in all honesty. It hurts enough to make you exclaim audibly, you dont think he Added That nuch pressure when, maybe hes just really strong.

"Ow! What was that for?" You soothe the irritated skin, it stung and turned into a reddish hue.

"Aren't ya gonna treat me today? Lets go." Hoshina regrets his action, yet he doesn't want to admit it. He wants to apologize but he doesn't want to face that he's the reason of your pain.

"Just dont order the whole cafeteria." You shrug it off like its nothing, you dont mind. Because your bound to be hurt by him one way or another as long as you feel such a thing for him. But you dont mind, call it masochistic, if you will, but you dont mind if he's the reason of your pain.

As you two waited in line, disposable trays In hand, Hoshina cant help the weird obligation to just keep yapping to keep you here, to keep you entertained. He keeps talking and cracking jokes in fear that you'd get tired of his company, but that was just what he thinks. You could listen to his voice on a  broken record, replaying itself numerous times like a mantra, like a chant, saying the same things aan your ear drums will consider itself blessed to hear such a soothing melody. You would heed every note in the soprano of his sounds if he gave you such a privilege.

"Have ya tasted their pancakes? They're delicious." Hoshina blurts out things randomly, no difference here. He's never actually tried the sweet fluff before. He's just desperate to keep talking, to hear your response, the soprano of your voice, the sweet sound of your larynx.

"No, but I'll take your word on it." It's gotten to the point where you'll take his word in anything. If Hoshina says the sky is a green hue, You wont see the sky In the same blue color starting then. You trust him and his silver tongue, you believe if his taste buds find something pleasurable to eat then it is, consider it a controversial opinion.

"Really? Gee, now I'll be responsible if ya dont like it." Again, he absolutely dles not know shit about what the pancakes tasted like. And Hoshina did not know you would take him seriously on that.

"I'll kill you if they taste like shit." You say those words so tenderly, Hoshina almost forgot they were meant to curse him.

The line kept moving forward, step sy step, the two of you inching towards the array of edibles displayed behind glass covers. The scent came rushing into your nostrils, so much you probably guess what's pleasurable to the tongue and whats not. When you two were finally the person in front and all had already llef, you went ahead and took your order of choice, as did Hoshina. The person who tended to the both of you was very nice, not the typical grumpy bitch you'd meet behind the counter. You dont know why but you were more used to that type of service, to that particular ttreatment, to being frowned and looked down upon even though your of an equal human being. The two of you got your food, payed and was excused out of the line so those behind you can have their chance to order what they wish.

"I dont see a table that's empty." So you guys venture further in search of a flat surface free for the taking. The whole cafeteria is oddly full to the brim, patients, visitors and doctors occupied every seat.

"Over there! Although its a bit in the corner." Hoshina was nudging to a disclosed table, its funny, the table resided in a cramped corner, no wonder no one seated on it. The table was left alone in result, no one living up to its purpose.

"I could care less, lets go." You went ahead infront of him, pushing through the compressed crowds, struggling to get past. Hoshina followed behind you, right behind your back. He thinks you look strong at this point of view, your spine stood up straight even when clearing a path. Hoshina just followed in your shadow, he doesn't mind at all, he doesn't mind if you'll take him as your counterpart behind. He's subtly reminded about his injuries during this escapedes, being squished between figures of hard muscle, causing him to feel a sting as Hoshina  swims through this mob.

Hoshina places down his tray on the flat surface and takes a seat, body still fuming with pain, while you reciprocate and sat on the opposite side of him. A particularly cramped space, but it would do. You dont care where, as long as its with him. Hoshina could invite you to the depths of the overwhelming oceans, the tightest room with only less than a meter of width, the very mantle of the earth and you would show up with smiles and a bouqet. The scent of the freshly cooked food was enough to rip a gluttural sound from the depths of your stomach, a plead to be fed. So you indulged in its selfish wishes and took a bite, inching the utensil closer.

"It's yummy." Which is very unexpected for a hospital. One would never guess that such a decent delicacy comes from a public hospital, of all places.

"Rightt?! Told ya." Hoshina boasted like an ignorant student who had just solved a hard question, not yet on their curriculum. With his fangs poking out while he oh so joyfully grins. Although, he, himself had never tried those.

You nodded, spoon still nestled in your mouth, trying to dramatically savor the taste. You trust Hoshina, be it with trivial things or life changing decisions that could very much decide your fate. "What about yours?" You ask, glancing down at his platter.

Hoshina hasn't yet moved a spectrum on his platter, a little to occupied watching your retort as if you were blessed with a golden tongue. He chomped on his piece of toast the moment he could.

"Are you sure your okay with just that?" You ask, concern lacing the arcs of your tone of voice. All that laid on his disposable platter was a piece of toast, bacon and egg. You recall reminding him not to go overboard with the stacking of food onto his plate as because it was your wallet taking the damage, but your not sure if this serves as a balanced meal.

"Yer talking like an old grandma." Hoshina points his spoon directly to your face, not enough to make contact. You unexpectedly remember the times in which you'd not eat breakfast at all, doing nothing but rotting in the four corners of your room, ignoring the hollow emptiness of your stomach.

"Shut it and eat." And that the both of you did. The bustling noise of your surroundings never seemed to disturb Hoshina, it's not like he's not disturbed by the way every time he tries to speak, his voice gets washed away by the huge sound cloud of the whole room, but as long as his voice reaches the brim of your ears, it's enough for him.

Time passes, conversation topics were being thrown here and there, the food home to your plate was half finished and his was gone practically, all that remained was microsopic crumbs on the plate. You take small, miniature portions so you don't accidentally vomit right then and there, now you're halfway through finishing it all. The food was overwhelming now, the taste is now all too plain simply because you've eaten your fill, it's a bad habit you've developed during your not so pleasant days. Getting tired of eating too quickly. Hoshina talked to you all meal long, pointing out the most random things and it somewhat assisted you.

You were midway in shoving another spoonful of food into your mouth and straight down your esophagus when Hoshina asked something that abled you to choke on your own air.

"(Name), why are you here?" He has his eyes wide open, scarlet hues in full blossom as red as the blood that circulates in your veins, the same scarlet hues has it's vision etched onto the very essence of your being. "Here at this hospital, I mean." Hoshina tilted his head and placed both his elbows on the table.

You hesitate to state the truth, afraid he would resent you, afraid that he'd be disgusted like any other. You dread that if you do tell him, you would be taken of the right to dwell on his presence. You dread that he won't look at you with the same eyes, you fear that he wouldn't want to lay eyes your appearance ever again.

"I fell down the stairs, very badly" A brief pause. You pause to give yourself time to think of another reason to further back up your excuse. "Fainted and broke a few bones haha—"

Hoshina stayed silent, staring at your face a bit too long to your liking, it was as if he was analyzing the truth from your expression alone.

"Your turn to tell, it's not fair for me!" You genuinely wanted to know the reason why the man was covered in bandages like a walking Egyptian mummy coming to haunt modern civilization. But besides that, you wanted to get him to talk again, just silence was as loud as it can possibly get, so by asking a question, he'd have to speak.

Hoshina looked deep in the cocoons of his mind as well, humming to himself which only made you more anticipated for what he has to share. So much to the point you wouldn't be surprised whether his next words to be 'I fight kaiju for a living! Ya get the gist.' Hoshina merely grins, opening his mouth to speak.

"I fight kaiju for a living! Ya get the gist." Scratch that, the word 'surprised' would be underwhelming it, simply to say you were baffled, eyes open wide like saucers, mouth left agape. You anticipated something extraordinary, yes, but no way could you have guesses your guess was no work of fiction.

Hoshina is somewhat pleased at your reaction, crossing his arms and grinning cheshire. He decided he'll add more spice to the mix. "Did I also mention my position? Vice-captain of the third division." The sight compares with a child boasting to his peers about a new trinket he's gotten.

It's the truth, no way he'd joke about something that serious. You weren't one to take interest in anything kaiju related, you deemed all of it unnecessary in your life. Hoshina is telling the truth, the man sitting across from you is the same man who governs the Third division. You're too deep into this conversation that the rest of your food on the platter is long forgotten.

Now, you question whether or not you should talk to him more formally.

You feel so stupid now. "Isn't that like— an important thing? Are you sure you're okay with me knowing..?"

"Yer talking like I'm a superhero with a hidden identity, it's not something I hide. Plus I can trust you." Trust, hoshina trusts you. And you just lost privilege of that trust just a moment ago. Telling him that big of a lie, leaving him in the blue. You feel unworthy of his trust, the moment you've decided to throw words seeping opposite of truth.

＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈

Moments later, you two get up and have a scroll at the backyard of the whole hospital, meant for a breath of fresh air for patients. Outside the hospital, away from the artificial smells, away from the blinding white. You don't know why you agreed to this idea, as well as Hoshina doesn't get why he suggested it. Not for more than half an hour, you two are anchored on a bench, scars already stinging and limbs already spent.

The breeze was comforting, the green grass was warming. Hoshina had his head tilted up high, soaking in the sight of the oddly living blue hue of the sky. He had never seen it this vividly, it was always a more muted tone in his view. He could only guess it was because of your presence with him. You, with your head hung low. He wonders if it'll continue to be this colorful even if you're not beside him anymore.

"I'm getting discharged in 2 days actually."

Your head snapped in his direction. The only word that could describe the crinkle on your features was disappointment. But then again, you had no right, the decision was not yours to make. You simply had no say in this.

"Hm, right. That's nice. Congratulations."

Nothing can guarantee whether you'll get the chance to be with him again. The light in your life was once again about to dim, the room would once more become pitch black. You wish you'd be given a lifetime, but such is reality. Your time with your savior has been short lived. In two days, you'll lose something dear and there's nothing you could do about it.

You truly believe Soshiro Hoshina is the man who's meant to save you from this gruesome way of living, but now he's departing from you.

[mur-art]

Mur's WTTT Art Master Post (Part 1)

A compilation of all my Welcome to the Table/Ben Brainard-verse art (so far), sorted by topic and character. I think I covered everything! I tried to organize them the best I could but some categories were hard to define. If I missed anything, plese lmk! WARNING: LONG POST AHEAD!

(GEN) COMICS/MULTI-CHARACTER SCENES:

---> Weekend at Congress (Florida, Loui, Gov)

---> Baby's First Hurricane! (Florida, California, Mother Nature)

---> Pile O' Corners (Four Corners)

---> The Gambler, The Family Man, and The Stoner (Nevada, Utah, Colorado)

---> A Family Affair (IDC, Penn, Gov)

---> Gator Onesie (Florida, Gov)

—> Surfin’ USA (California, Hawai’i, Alaska)

—-> To the Town of Agua Fria Rode a Stranger One Fine Day (Texas, Arizona)

FLORIDA AND CALIFORNIA ANTICS:

Continued under the cut...

---> Karaoke Night at the Statehouse

---> Halloween Horror Night

---> What is This "Moun-tan" You Speak of?

---> "Whatcha readin', Safe Space?"

—> Cali’s Gonna Yeet Him off a cliff

—> The One Where They Work at In-N-Out

INDIVIDUAL WTTT CHARACTERS:

Alaska

---> Good View From Up Here (Alaska + Hawai'i)

---> I Was Born Under a Wan'drin Star... (tw: blood)

Arkansas

---> Pirate Kansas!

California

(This diva has his own category; see below)

Colorado

---> Snowy Selfie

Florida

—> Florida!!! (Mur’s Version) (TW: Blood)

—> Emotional Support Alligator

---> Astrophysics for People in a Hurry

---> The Price of Freedom

---> Gator Onesie

Gov

---> You Should See The Other Guy (tw: blood)

---> "I Was So Worried" (Gov + IDC)

---> Gator Onesie

Hawai'i

---> Good View From Up Here (Alaska + Hawai'i)

---> Gossip Girls (California + Hawai'i)

IDC

---> "I Was So Worried" (Gov + IDC)

Louisiana

---> <3 Heart Eyes <3

Massachusetts

---> Spiked Dunks!

---> I Started a War!

---> Dunks Onesie! (feat. New York)

Michigan

---> "I Brought Salad!"

Montana

---> Treasure State // Big Sky Country

National Guard

---> POV You're Late to Your Date w/Natty Guard

Nevada

—> Playing With Fire (Nevada and Utah)

—> Vegas Vic (collab with @freshwolfhell)

—> Circus, Circus (collab with @freshwolfhell)

—> “Wait, YOU don’t have a lottery?” (Utah and Nevada)

---> Neon Showgirl

---> Caution, Do Not Dig (semi-nsfw)

---> Oh, You're Actin' So Holy (Utah and Nevada)

---> MOBvada

---> Being an Absolute Mood

New Jersey

---> Stick 'Em Up! (tw: blood)

---> Bad Boy (tw: smoking)

New York

—-> Emotional Support Pigeons

Oregon

---> Get In Loser, We're Dying of Dysentery

Utah

—> “Wait, YOU don’t have a lottery?” (Utah and Nevada)

---> "I'm Not Like Other States, I'm a COOL State!"

---> Oh, You're Actin' So Holy (Utah and Nevada)

Washington

---> Get In Loser, We're Dying of Dysentery

---> Judgy Washing Machine

Wisconsin

—> Go Pack Go!

SHIPS/DUOS:

Texas/California

---> Dios Mio, Erán Vaqueros!!

—> “Stay Still, Idiot!” (Hurt/“Comfort”)

—> OMG They Were Cowboys!

---> "Let Him Kiss Me..." (nsfw)

---> I Hate Everything About You

---> Not-So-Lone Star (semi-nsfw)

---> Wildflowers

---> Saw Your Face in a Dusty Daguerrotype

---> "It Suits You, You Know" (Cali/Austin)

Florida/Louisiana

---> Summer Afternoon Flirting

—> Karaoke Night at the Statehouse

---> "Mornin', Sunshine" (semi-nsfw)

---> OMG They Were Pirates!

---> Bisou Ur Face

---> Those eyes, damn those eyes

---> "Hey Loui-- <3"

Utah/Nevada

—-> Playing the slots (slot canyons)

Florida/Gov

—> Send Me a Selfie

California/Nevada

—> “Fighting” Over the Remote

---> California is a Big Spoon (nsfw)

---> 99 Problems

California/New York

---> First Meeting (“I’m Not Here For Your Silly Rocks”)

—-> Working Late

---> Straight Gay Espresso Morning

---> "Get Loved, Idiot"

---> Can't Handle the Cold

New York/New Jersey

---> "What the [bleep] are you lookin' at?"

Massachusetts/Virginia

—> The Gentleman and the Sailor

---> Kingdom of Days

Oregon/Washington

---> Get In Loser, We're Dying of Dysentery

---> May 18, 1980 (tw: blood)

Alaska/Hawai'i

---> Good View From Up Here

Massachusetts/New York:

—> I am NOT Wearing That!! (The Dunks Onesie Saga continues!)

A SECTION just for CALIFORNIA since I draw him so much (whoops):

---> Money, Power, Glory (CA Statehood Day Art 2023)

---> Fem!Cali

---> Looking for the Golden Light

---> Two Sides of the Same Coin/King of Diamonds (NorCal + SoCal)

---> Twelve Atmospheric Rivers Later...

---> "I am California, Can't You See?" (CA Statehood Day Art 2022)

---> Gossip Girls (California + Hawai'i)

---> Firebender Cali

NON-CANON CHARACTERS/OCS:

Jefferson

---> Abolish the Police...Birds? (feat. Austin)

San Diego and San Francisco

---> CA's Favorite/s?

[dearsnow]

SALT FARE, NORTH SEA

- when a dragon falls from the sky, decimating your ship and bringing a strange boy along for the ride, you begin to question if the some of the targaryens are really as bad as they seem. (aged up!lucerys velaryon x fem!reader, angst to fluff, ur burning hatred is quenched by time spent on the sea 🤞) MAJOR SPOILERS FOR HOUSE OF THE DRAGON! au where vhagar doesn’t kill luke, arrax just gets absolutely mauled and falls out of the sky. aged up luke because I didn’t realize he was that young when i started writing 💀. ⚠️ TW for death, suicidal thoughts, and trauma.

word count: 4,211 (jesus christ)

a/n - ohhhh my god guys i’m back!!!! this was certainly a labor of love. i don’t know if I’ll start writing consistently again, but i really hope i do. i love you guys so much and thank you for the continued support even when i’m on hiatus! also i’m sorry if luke is ooc because i choose to believe he’s quietly funny and a little bit of a menace 😭

As the waves batter the sides of your ship, you don’t feel seasick. You feel the spray, see the occasional silvery fish zip by under the water. The sun beats down on your exposed neck and the motion swirls your mind, but you are sick for an entirely different reason.

Betrothal. God, you hate how that word sits on your tongue like a hot piece of meat. You are to be sent off to their family, married into their lineage and forced to bear their children until your womb shrivels like a sun-dried date. Of  all of your options, the Targaryens are certainly the worst. 

Aemond, in particular. You’ve heard stories of his cold demeanor, how he could kill you with a look. With his hands, too. He is quite the skilled swordsman, not that you would ever wish to witness it. He is the one you are set to marry.

Oh, the misery. The horror. You can feel bile rising in your throat whenever someone mentions him or his mother, great Queen Alicent.

You figure, though, at least it isn’t his brother.

You come from a noble family. It was bound to happen anyways. Trade your Martell name for some haughty lord’s and become his sow for the rest of your life. Your short, miserable life. In some ways, you are a bit grateful. You will never want for food and you know you’ll bring great honor to your family by marrying into the Targaryens. 

You just wish you could marry for another reason, not just forging alliances and heating up old, cold ones. You could have a happy life with the person of your choosing. You could sell fish on the shores of the sea and pick flowers in a field.

You play with this notion in your head before you hear a mighty crash and the sound of splintering wood.

The screams come mere seconds later. They pierce the air as snapping bones and rending flesh ring out. You stumble back, nearly falling off the edge of the ship. Large chunks of meat have started raining from the sky, crushing everything in their path.

You feel your heart beat so fast it nearly leaps out of your chest as you scramble for friction. Fuck, what the hell?

With the meat there comes blood, great amounts of it. It trips the sailors up, sending them careening over the wooden edges and into the sea. 

You narrowly miss the giant dragon wing that splits the boat in two. The entire thing has started sinking, and your blood runs cold. 

The ship is tilted from the massive gash in the center. Water is mixing with blood, and your dress is soaked to the bone. You can’t help but think that the finest silks Dorne can offer will drag you to the bottom of the depths.

As you clamber to the top of the ship’s bow as another fast-moving figure falls into the water. You don’t notice it in the moment. 

A shove comes from behind, pushing you to the side. Your back aches where you were struck.

“M’lady, m'lady! The lifeboat, you must take the boat. Go, go! Right now, m'lady.”

It’s Finhard, the deck swabber. He has two missing fingers, a lame knee, and a million stories. He swabbed the deck of The Sandstorm from port to port, collecting any and all information he could along the way. You loved talking to him so much it made the trip almost worth it. He always helped you sneak food to the cat stowing away on board. The cat you’re sure is now dead.

“What about you?” You question, voice loud but shaky. You can’t just leave him here.

“I’m a dead man, m’lady. I don’t matter.”

“But you do!” You insist, tugging on his arm. The screams are still ringing like alarms, and your limbs feel locked and like jelly at the same time.

“No, no. I might sink it. Girl’s damaged already. Please go, girlie. Jus’ remember me when you eat your next fish, alright?”

A pit pools in your stomach as you whip around to look at the small lifeboat. He’s right. The boat wouldn’t be able to hold you and a grown man, at least not one of Finhard’s size.

“Get on. I’ll push ya off, and you better have a damn good time with that prince of yours.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you watch your trusted confidant steel his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Finhard. I’m so so sorry,” You sob, clutching his rough palms. “I promise I’ll think of you always.”

“Thas’ all I ask for.” His voice is rough and uncut, hardened yet soft, like a feather made of chainmail. He picks you up like a sack of potatoes and places you in the rickety boat with the gentleness of a father setting down his newborn. He gives you one final kiss on the forehead before untying the boat and shoving it into the roiling water. 

Small hairs cling to your forehead as the ship lights up in a blaze sure to be seen from the shore. Your face is so wet with tears you feel as though the ocean is the product of them.

You sob into your hands as the people who took care of you on your journey sink, their bawls leaving a scar in your memory.

It’s not even ten minutes after the foremast begins to sink that you see a dark shape bobbing along in the water next to you. You stifle a gasp, thinking it must surely be a shark or a dead man. The water around it was red and heavy. 

When it floats closer to you, you see for the first time that it’s a boy. A boy who must be around your age, maybe sixteen or seventeen. His wrist gives a little twitch, and you resolve that you must rescue him. 

He wasn’t on your ship unless he was stowing away in the barrels, as teenagers often do. No matter his situation, you grab his soaked shirt and give a hard tug. 

The effort almost tips your boat, nearly sending you spiraling into the water. You give a little huff. The waterlogged boy is definitely heavier than you expected.

You try again, managing to get his arm hooked around the side of the boat. From there, it’s just a game of strength- you pull him up, using his clothing as a sort of lever to shimmy him out of the water. You roll him over, the water streaming off of him re-splattering your already wet clothes with water and fresh blood. The boat dips a little with his weight, but it does not sink. You praise the Seven under your breath. He has a cut on the side of his head, one that requires medical care far past the simple fixes you’ve learned.

You try to dress it anyways. Ripping a long strip of cloth from the bottom of your underskirt, you wrap it up and pray he doesn’t lose much more blood. 

You can still hear the creaking of The Sandstorm, though any humans were sucked under long ago. It makes a melancholy sound, blending with the waves and the seabirds and the rain that has started pattering down. A lump forms in your throat as you gaze at the wreckage. Hot water slides down your face as you sit in your little lifeboat, waiting for death that will most certainly come for your throat. 

It’s about two hours of lonely drifting before the boy wakes up. He opens his eyes slowly, then they widen as he gives a gurgling shout.

“Augh!” You stifle a giggle, though your voice is still wobbly from sobs.

He notices you and sits up, bewildered. As he takes in his surroundings, you sit and watch.

“Who are you? Where am I? Where is Arrax?” 

“I am nobody now, and we are in the middle of the ocean,” You gesture to the water surrounding every inch of your sight. “And I don’t know who Arrax is.” He sure has a lot of questions, though you can’t fault him for it.

“Arrax, my dragon. I… I think he’s…” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

You stare at him in shock.

“Your dragon? The dragon that fell out of the sky in twenty pieces?” You question, voice heated. “The one that just killed a crew of fifty-two men?”

He’s silent for a moment. “So he’s dead?”

“Of course he’s dead, you imbecile! Did you not hear what I just said? He killed them. All of them. I’m the only survivor.”

“I’m sorry.” He mutters. He brings his knees to his chest and hugs them. “It was never my fault. It was him that killed Arrax, so it is him that killed your crew.”

“Who is him?”

“That bastard of a prince, Aemond. He and his dragon, Vhagar, chased us across the skies and attacked us in the air.”

Your hands tighten into fists as your throat constricts like you swallowed a spiny rock. You regret ever saving the boy, and you regret not slitting your throat when you heard of your betrothal to the murderer. Everything you’ve heard about Aemond is true. Your rage boils into hatred, and you swear that if you ever see him you will die and take him with you.

“So that must mean you’re a Targaryen too?” You say, trying to keep your voice level. It’s a skill you had to learn as a noble lady, but the hate building in your chest is almost too violent to quiet.

“Lucerys Velaryon, my lady.” He eyes you, taking note of your expensive yet ruined dress. He must know you’re not a commoner either.

You know the Targaryens are the only ones with proper access to a dragon, but you should have known that only someone descended from one could cause such absolute and utter destruction. It’s not Lucerys’s fault, you tell yourself. Don’t put the blame on him. Put on a smile and become your best even-tempered and kind self. But gods, the way you want to wring his neck for an event he seemingly had no control over.

“Why did he do it?” You ask. The tears from earlier start creating a pressure behind your eyes again. 

“Because I took his eye.” Lucerys’s voice is weak, but it has the strum of nobility that you know like a well-oiled harp. “He wanted revenge, an eye for an eye. So I ran. He found me in the sky and bit my dragon in half. I never meant to kill anybody.” So they’re all the same, the princes. Hardened and cruel and psychopaths. “Did you save me?”

“I suppose I did.” You want so badly to say ‘but I shouldn’t have’, but you hold your tongue.

“That is a debt I can never repay. Thank you. I’m truly sorry.” You shake your head. It’s not his fault, you repeat. You still cannot find it in yourself to forgive him. “What’s your name?”

You think for a brief moment. It wouldn’t hurt, you think, to tell him your name. That way when you both die, at least the man you’re stuck with will know the name of the woman that hated his family the most out of anyone in the world.

You speak your name, including your Martell family name, and he looks at you, eyes widened so much you think they will pop out of his skull.

“Aemond’s betrothed?” You are marrying into the greens, and Lucerys feels as though he should hate you for it. Unluckily for his honor, he cannot despise the girl who pulled him from the sea.

“Yes, what sorry luck.” You spit. “I would rather drown than go through with it.” You think of the promise you made to Finhard. “No, I would put poison in his chalice and watch him drink it.”

He laughs a bit, his voice ringing out against the repetitive sound of waves. “And I will buy the poison.” You allow yourself to smile. You hate it, but you smile.

You’ve always been the weirder daughter, yet the one that tries to talk with the lords and ladies and puts on a shining performance. That’s where the smile comes from, from all the times you’ve had to put your pearly whites on display. The morals have gone to shit, but the reflex is still burned into your person.

“You needn’t call me ‘my lord’. We’re even here, out on the sea.” He says. You can feel that’s not the only reason. A spark of guilt shimmers in the corners of his eyes. “Just call me Luke.”

“And you may call me by my name, Luke.” He’s right. There are no titles, only salt water and spray.

You watch the moon in the sky as it shines its beams down on your face. It sees everything. Every deal in secret, every promise you’ve ever made. It’s a gentle reminder that every person sees the same thing every night. You and Luke sit in silence, staring up at it. You wonder if your mother sees it too, from her ship. Can Finhard and the other sailors see it, from their watery graves? Can they forgive you for not saving them? For saving the life of a boy, whose mass is just under the weight limit of the boat? You glance over at him.

He’s staring at you, at how the soft rays of the moon highlight the curves and edges of your face. He feels a pit in his stomach, one that is not from hunger. It’s a gnawing feeling, guilt. He hates that he had to trade his life for fifty sailors. He thinks he would rather be at the bottom of the sea than see more tear tracks on your face. Another feeling eats at him, though he’s not sure what it is. It makes his insides churn and scrambles his mind.

He averts his eyes and looks at the stars once more.

You spend another two days floating in the water. You’re both sunburned and salt dried, and his skin is red and peeling. The conversation between the both of you had been dry up until today.

“May I have the flask?” He asks. You hand it over. For two whole days, all you have had to eat and drink is two flasks of water, a packet of dried fish, and some bread that has gone mushy from the water slowly seeping into your boat. You have to bail it out every hour or so.

“Do you think we’ll ever get out of here?” Luke questions, his voice rough. “Is anyone coming for us?”

You sigh. “I don’t know. I would like to think there are boats out searching, but truly, they must expect us to be dead. Besides that, we have drifted so far away from the shipwreck that we might not be found even if they were searching.” He shakes his head, hair stiff from the salty spray.

“I would like to keep hope alive.”

“You are the only one.” You hear a small laugh from next to you. 

“You know, I could not ask for a better person to be stranded with.” He screws the cap back onto his flask carefully.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you certainly know how to ration supplies. And your optimism is inspiring.” A giggle bubbles up from beneath your buried feelings. 

“Is that sarcasm, my dear lord?”

He smiles. You can’t help but notice that his smile is contagious, the kind that reaches his eyes. The kind you found yourself dreaming about, and the kind you are certain your betrothed never wears. 

“Only if you make it out to be.” He pauses. “So, what was your life like in Dorne?”

Your eyes narrow. Small talk? It brings you back to your past. Talking to potential suitors and bearing their questions as they try to judge if you’re worth their money. It’s almost nice, the reminder. Before the wreck, you had been happy. Cheerful, even. You were nothing like you are now, hardened and weak and so close to putting sand in your pockets and drowning you can taste the seawater. 

“Why do you ask?”

“I figured it would be nice to know you. To really know you.” His words bring an odd sense of comfort to you.

“It was much nicer than this. I had friends and family, that was the best part. I never wanted for much of anything. I suppose I felt out of place sometimes, and I felt lonely like nothing else, but it helped to know that I could always have a home with the people I loved.” He nods, and the waves push against the boat. The sun is setting, condemning you to another sleepless night. “What about you?”

“I love my home, my people, and my family. I never felt up to the task of being lord of Driftmark, though,” He confesses, “and sometimes I still feel like a fraud. Gods, I don’t know why I told you that.” He knows. There’s something about your eyes, something that makes him want to spill every secret he has ever had. He wants to tell you about the time he stole Aemond’s knife, causing Aemond to pick a fight with Aegon. Or when he heard an argument between his mother and stepfather, or when his older brother snuck a frog into the pocket of a handmaiden. Your eyes burn with stifled anger and buried hopes and love.

You look at him with an odd expression. “It’s alright. Might as well get everything out while you can.” You know the feeling of not being enough well. “I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully when we get out of here.” You find yourself comforting him for god knows what reason. You should be angry, full of hatred and buzzing bees, but you can only feel sympathy for the boy across from you.

“When we get out of here? Where was that optimism earlier?” He teases, making you smile.

“It was killed and brought back to life. I have decided that I’m not going to die.” His laugh rings out, showering you in a feeling that makes you shiver.

“That’s a good thing to decide. I swear it too, we are not going to die. Aemond will never kill our spirit nor our bodies.” He takes your hands, palms rough and calloused. It makes your heart pound in a way you never expected. “We will be alright.”

You nod, hope blooming in your heart. Suddenly, the world seems just a little bit brighter. That’s when you see it; the seagull flying overhead.

You gasp, pointing up to the sky. It lets out a sharp cry as it circles around, and soon Luke is looking at it too. You’re so relieved that tears well up in your eyes.

Land must be near. It has to be. 

“Praise the gods.” He grins, dropping your hands to shield his eyes from the sun. “We will surely reach the shores soon.”

“I can only hope.” You whisper.

You spend another day on the water, your hopeful eyes searching for mountains or fields. All you can see is blue water, blue skies, and Lucerys Velaryon. You found that you’ve grown to like him, as fucked as your past self might have considered it. He actually treats you like a person. 

He squints into the distance. “I still don’t see anything. Maybe… maybe the bird was a fluke. A gull straying too far from the shore.”

You hit his shoulder lightly. “Don’t think like that.”

“It seems we’ve switched roles,” He smiles, “you’re the positive one now.”

“We certainly have rubbed off on each other.” The corners of your mouth lift into a little grin. Truth be told, your own hope is starting to fade, but you will never let him know. 

You’ve begun to notice things about the sea that you have never seen before. Schools of small fish darting below the surface, the pattern of the waves, even how chilly the water is. As the sun shines down, the water is peaceful. Maybe it’s a side effect of the trauma, or maybe it’s just you growing more comfortable with the idea of salt water. In any case, you suppose you need to look at its beauty to fan the dying flame of light burning inside you. It’s far easier to love than to keep hating. 

“The day is quite beautiful, isn’t it?” You whisper. 

“I suppose it is.” He says, but he’s not looking at the sky.

You are infatuating. The way the sun glints off your eyes enraptures him and keeps him in a state of lovely drunkenness. “Do you wish to marry my uncle?” There’s a hint of something more behind his voice. It’s almost desperate, and the thought makes you shiver.

You hesitate. “Not particularly. It would bring honor to my family, that I am sure of. So I will do it, but I will likely not enjoy it.”

“I understand that. I myself am betrothed to someone I can’t see myself loving.”

“The lady Rhaena Targaryen?” You know of her. The idea of him marrying the girl painted by the gods twists your heart in a way you can’t even comprehend.

He sighs. “Yes. It is my duty, but I cannot see her as anything but a sister. That’s all she’s been to me my entire life.”

“Duty is a wicked thing,” You muse, “pulling us away from opportunities to enrich our own lives.”

He nods. “If you could choose, is there anyone you would want to be married to?”

You think for a bit but eventually shake your head. “Do you have a special someone?”

“I am beginning to discover one.” He says. What does he mean by that?

When you look at him, staring far into the distance, you start to realize.

When the days grow dim, you huddle into each other for warmth. That’s why you fall asleep tonight, softened by his touch. Finally, you sleep for more than half an hour at a time. Luke’s arms are wrapped around you, as the lifeboat leaves little room for comfort, and the rock of the ship lulls you into a dream.

You wake to a jolt. You have no idea how long you’ve been asleep, but the moon is out and there is sand underneath your hull. Sand. Ground. You scramble to sit up, pulling Luke along with you. “Sand! Luke, it’s sand. We’ve made it! Gods be good, we have made it to land.” You grab at the wet grains, letting them clump and filter through your fingers. He lets out a loud cheer and pulls you in.

Out of nowhere, as you still have earth in your hands, he kisses you. His lips are rough and dry, but so are yours. He tastes like salt water and love.

When he finally pulls away, he is grinning like a lunatic. “We’ve made it, my lady. We survived.”

“What happened to our no titles agreement?” You tease, still flustered. Your cheeks are as hot as the surface of the sun.

“We’re on land now. The rules of society apply again, I’m afraid.” His whisper ghosts against your ear like he’s almost afraid to lose the closeness he gathered over the course of the last few days.

“Of course,” You say, pressing your lips to his cheek, “I would expect nothing different from such a high-ranking and strong man such as yourself.” 

He places a hand where you kissed him. Your skin may be chapped, but that damned kiss was sweeter and softer than spun sugar.

“I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding, my lady.” A glint of humor dances in his eye.

He steps out of the boat and offers a hand to you. The ground wobbles under your feet and you almost fall, but he is there to steady you. “Wait, I know this beach!” He realizes as he gazes upon the scenery. “It’s the beach off Dragonstone. I’m… I’m home.”

“Really?” You feel hope bubbling through your body. “You know where we are?”

“I do. Dragonstone is there, above those cliffs. Come on, let’s go!” He tugs your arm just a bit too hard, sending you sprawling into the sand. You grab onto his sleeve and pull him down too, leaving you both in a fit of giggles. 

You’re both weak and tired and sore, but your flames grow brighter every second you’re on solid land. “Race me!” He yells, taking off from the ground on shaky feet. You dart after him, all your earlier burdens seemingly gone.

You probably won’t catch him, but it’s okay. Right now, your future is ahead of you, your rage is behind, the land pounds beneath your feet, and the boy with brown hair is calling for you to join him.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

Taglist (bolded means unable to tag): @mmmimilan @its-halleys-comet @savagemickey03 @persephonesportal @lovelyliliya @the-jess-life @spaceandstars @bbosica @hopelesswritergall @watercolorskyy

[mlmxreader]

Between The Wars | Keegan P Russ x m!reader

Anonymous asked: Hi I’ve never requested here before but I really like your stuff so I wanted to ask for any of the cod guys x male reader, where one of the cod guys gets jealous after getting a night out on the town with reader bc people come up and flirt with him. Ok thanks mate.

summary: Keegan doesn't take too kindly to people trying to get with his boyfriend.

tws: jealousy, possessiveness, swearing, mentions of alcohol

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

'Drunken Sailor' by The Irish Rovers echoed loudly throughout the pub, soldiers and RAF pilots alike all crowded in the booths and at the tables as they talked and drank and sang together; tonight they were all brothers and friends and they could enjoy the moment of peace in a war that would never end.

For over one hundred years, these two groups had been meeting at this pub between the wars, it was almost a family tradition for soldiers and pilots to go there; among them, was an American ghost, a guest of the RAF.

He was quiet, ice blue eyes following his pilot's every move; he was tense, jaw clenched tightly and his posture slightly hunched, ready to pounce at any given moment in time.

Keegan was a wound up wild animal just ready to spring on his prey and kill it. But then you returned to his side, and he became tame more, sitting back as he took the drink from you and allowed you to rest your head on his shoulder, your hand coming to his thigh; he would never reciprocate in public, or anywhere outside of your flat or his room at the Ghosts' base.

Never in public.

But you were well aware of that, and paid absolutely no mind; as long as he knew that you were there at his side, you didn't mind that he didn't return the gesture.

Besides, it was rare for you and Keegan to have time off between the wars at the same time, and you were determined to make the most of it. Two whole weeks, just you and him. You were both on borrowed time between the wars.

Keegan's quiet company had always been your favourite though, and you would never pass the opportunity to be around him; but life was cruel, and you were soon dragged up to the bar by one of the soldiers.

Keegan watched with a burning icy glare as the soldier put his arms around you, crushing you into his side with a grin. He was ready to pounce, just waiting for the excuse to do it.

"I just wanna raise a toast to our own Red Baron!" He shouted over the sound of the chatter and the current song, 'Coat Of Arms' by Sabaton. "A man as smart as he is dashingly handsome! Our RAF's pride - (y/n)!"

You rolled your eyes as you tried to free yourself from his grip as it dropped to your hip, knowing what he was getting at as you squirmed; you looked to Keegan with desperation, but he merely shook his head. He only dared to get up when the soldier tried to kiss you.

"Get the fuck away from him. Now."

The soldier backed off immediately, as it was not the first time that night that Keegan had to put an end to someone flirting with you; he wondered for a moment if they had heard when you told him that you were dating him.

But his blood was boiling, and when he went to sit back down with you, he did something that he could only describe as a desperate measure.

With just a few quick movements, Keegan pulled you onto his lap with his arm across your stomach and his chin on your shoulder. Even if you wanted to, you bad a feeling that Keegan wouldn't let you go anywhere without him.

Not after the amount of people who had flirted with you so openly and brazenly, anyway.

But in his defence, Keegan was new to this whole relationship thing, and jealousy came all too easy to him; he didn't even want a relationship to begin with, but you just had to be so charming and smart and handsome, didn't you?

You just had to go and catch his eye and capture his heart, didn't you?

You bastard. You absolute vile bastard.

"Everything alright?" You asked as you leaned into his touch.

He didn't really react outside of his grip getting a little bit tighter on your side. "Are they fucking stupid?"

"I don't think so," you dared to shrug. "Why?"

Softly, Keegan growled under his breath as he started to clench his jaw again; he glared at the soldiers and pilots when they walked by, silently telling them to back off. To keep their hands off of his boyfriend.

"They don't seem to understand that you're here with me - you're mine."

You shifted your hips, a shiver trickling down your spine as you bit down on the inside of your bottom lip; he had never been so jealous, but the way that it laced in his voice and how it manifested in the way he held you, was too divine to ignore. If this was how he acted when he was jealous, then you couldn't deny that you liked it.

You were always at Keegan's mercy, he could always make you yearn for him with just a look, but now you were close to getting on your knees and telling him your biggest secret: that you wanted to always be his.

"I love you." You only whispered the words, but you had hoped and you were sure that he had not heard him, you were sure that your secret was not out. You were certain you were safe.

Keegan chewed at the inside of his lip, frozen in place as he tried to ignore what you had said; he didn't want to acknowledge them at all, and could only bring himself to swallow thickly as he reached for his drink.

You loved him. You just admitted it, practically told everyone in the world, that you loved him.

if you enjoyed this fic, REBLOG IT; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM level of support. do not interact if you won't reblog.

[writerblue275]

Pet name headcanons for Jayce/Viktor

My first Arcane headcanon! I FUCKING LOVE THIS SHOW and I hate that it took me so long to watch it, but I can’t wait for next year for season 2!

Inspiration: A. Being a full simp for Viktor. B. Secretly also being a simp for Jayce (LMAO). C. Listening to the beauty that is the Arcane score.

Genre: Headcanon

Category: Fluff!!

Gender: Primarily Gender Neutral reader. Some of Jayce’s definitely are more gender specific but I can’t help but think he’d use them (as long as his partner was alright with it of course).

TW: Swearing because I have the mouth of a damn sailor.

Viktor

(The way this man had me in a CHOKEHOLD the second he walked on screen! LOML.)

Pet names for his partner:

Viktor’s intelligence and you think he’s using boring pet names for you??? Absolutely not.

Come now…you know him far better than that…this man is far too creative to be limited by "babe" or "baby" (no offense meant to anyone who uses those, I also use them for romantic partners so I get it).

Ok, maybe early on in your relationship as he was opening up to you, he used some simple classics. Ones like “my dear” or “honey.” These are the main ones he'll also continue to use in public. He's just a private person and I can't see him using any crazy pet names in public with his partner.

Once he’s settled into his routine with you in it and you two spend more time alone/on dates, he starts to have fun, seeing what reactions he can draw out of you with different pet names. (Viktor is surprisingly adept at flirting and playful teasing. It's that sharp wit. He's just so good at banter.)

He figures out the ones that make you smile and the ones that make you blush. Those are the ones he keeps.

There are a few “traditional” ones that Viktor keeps using for you because he loves how they turn your cheeks pink (especially when he says them with a cute little side smile, smirk, or chuckle).

“My darling,” “my love,” “my heart,” or “sweetheart” are the main ones in that category. (I feel like he is such a romantic under all that workaholic, he just needs to get out of the lab and LET IT OUT.)

Others would be cute, but unique. “My sunshine,” “my owl,” (if your sleep schedule is also fucked) “my sunflower,” “butterfly,” ”my flower,” "otter," or “birdie” would be some examples of what I mean. (LMAO Jayce is never hearing him call you any of those. Viktor is 99% sure he'd never hear the end of the teasing from his lab partner.)

If you’re also in academia/research/work at the academy, Viktor would teasingly call you “my most esteemed colleague” or if you’re in sciences specifically, “my fellow scientific genius.”

Pet names from his partner:

As you and Viktor get more comfortable in your relationship, he'd really come to enjoy pet names from you. He just needs to get used to the affection (I'd imagine he's not the most experienced with romance). I think he'd like the funnier ones earlier before the more romantic ones.

(For those in academia/research/at the academy) You and Viktor really weren't super open to other people about starting a relationship (neither of you felt the need to be, but like you would tell people if they asked).

In these early days, "My most esteemed colleague" was a cheeky way for both of you to very subtly announce your affection in public. (I have such a cute idea for a headcanon/drabble based on this oh my GOD.) Even though more people definitely know about your relationship, both you and Viktor still use the pet name when you walk into each other's lab/classroom/office.

When you go to try and collect him from his desk so he can take care of himself, tease him with "genius," "smarty pants," or "bookworm" (especially if you find him with his nose buried in his notes again).

Viktor is a fairly private person, so "honey" is probably the sweetest one you'd normally use in public. But if you do want to see his ears turn pink, feel free to throw "love" out there every once in a while.

In private? As I said, under all the genius is a romantic, so get as soft and sweet as you want.

It surprises him how much he loves hearing you call him "handsome." He's never been super vain about his appearance (though he always looks pretty put together), but knowing that you find him handsome makes him stand up a little straighter.

Just as Viktor uses "my darling," "my heart," and "my love" for you, he loves it even more when you call HIM those. It's the easiest way to drag him away from the lab when the teasing pet names above don't quite do the trick: Come up behind him while he's at his desk (obviously not while he's doing something dangerous), wrap your arms around him, and softly murmur "my love..." into his ear. You can visibly see his resolve break and you know you've won.

Love love LOVE the idea of using the Russian diminutive of Viktor's name: "Vitya." It makes a lot of sense for a romantic partner to call him that.

Jayce

Pet names for his partner:

Ok, so one of my best friends and I give Jayce quite a bit of shit when we text each other about Arcane (he’s a bit of a himbo, your Honor).

BUT I actually think Jayce would be a great romantic partner and the pet names he uses would be very sweet.

He’d definitely use the classics like “baby” or “babe” for you. I don’t think he’d go mushy classic though (think “my darling” or “my love”). But "babe" and "baby" are definitely the most common ones he'd use when you two are out in public.

Can also see him using cute ones like “sunshine,” “shorty,” or “peanut.” (I mean hey, 6' (as confirmed by Riot) is a pretty good height.) Those last two are loving teases. He never means "shorty" in a mean way.

And when he’s about to envelop you in a hug (I imagine Jayce gives EXCELLENT hugs) he’d call you “squish.” Ex: “C’mere squish….” (When he gets home after a long day of being a councilman.)

“Sugar” or “sweetheart” are also on the table. This very big man has a very soft side. We even saw examples of this during season one.

Now that he’s put House Talis on Piltover’s social ladder, he’s understandably proud. What he’s done doesn’t happen often. Very rarely does high society make room for others to enter at all, and now he's the de facto head of Piltover's Council.

The fact you’re willing to stand with him? He’s honored really. But the way he shows it through pet names is interesting. It’s almost a little….teasing? But the intent is genuine. He never wants you to doubt that.

Here’s what I mean (Heads up: gender-specific language incoming): Jayce would smirk and call you “my lady/m’lady” (think Cat Noir’s nickname for Lady Bug from “Miraculous: Tales of Lady Bug and Cat Noir” and especially how he says it, which is often very playfully) or “m’lord.” He’d also use “(my) prince/princess,” especially when he buys you gifts. (I feel like he'd love to spoil his partner omg.)

Pet names from his partner:

Jayce LOVES when you use pet names for him. Honestly it makes him smile. And he loves how creative you’ve gotten with some of them.

Classics for you to use in public would be “babe,” “baby,” or “honey.” Simple and quick, definitely easy to get his attention with those.

If he’s ever talking about HexTech with you, feel free to lovingly tease him with “smarty pants” or “big brain.” (Please listen to this man talk about HexTech. It’s far more interesting than council shit.)

While Viktor is definitely running the lab now that Jayce is a councilor, Jayce is still the face of HexTech (and Piltover’s “Golden Boy” <- call him that to tease him btw), so he’s the main one who tries to secure funding for the lab’s future. This means rubbing elbows with Piltover’s elite and giving speeches at fancy parties and banquets. Honestly he kinda hates it. He gets really nervous beforehand, but, he’s very good at it. Only you and Viktor know about Jayce’s nerves in these situations.

When he’s successful at this schmoozing, use “superstar,” “hotshot,” or “you charmer.” (Ex: (After he comes back from a speech, you’re straightening his tie after kissing his cheek.) “Way to go, hotshot…I saw potential funders pulling out their checkbooks before you were even finished.”)

Ok listen, we’ve all see the forge scenes…Jayce Talis is physically FINE AS FUCK (though OSHA would have something to say about him being shirtless in there 😂). Being a house known for forging tools comes with its physique benefits, so feel free to feed his ego on this point.

He loves when you call him “sexy” or “handsome.” He does like knowing you find him physically attractive.

Whenever he calls you “shorty” or “peanut” feel free to fire back with “big guy.” (I just…Ex- Jayce: *pulls you into a hug and murmurs* “Hey peanut..” You: *smiles and murmurs back* “Hey big guy..” 🥺 FUCK that is just so cute to me.)

He may not call you “my darling” or “my love,” but he LOVES when you call him those. When you do, he is wrapped around your little finger and ready to do whatever you ask of him.

Thank you so much for reading!!

I had such a blast writing this and I’m sooooo excited to get into writing more stuff for Arcane because I really love the show. Shoutout to my bestie (mentioned in Jayce’s first section lol) for also loving Viktor and being excited to read my writing in all its draft-stages!

[quiet-nocturne]

so friday the 13th this year was absolutely unlucky for me.

tw: mentions of animal/pet death below the cut

not only was I sick with a shitty head cold, we brought one of our cats to the vet as we'd noticed he'd suddenly started walking funny - kind of a waddle in his back legs? we thought he'd injured himself.

turns out he had organ failure and his stomach was FULL of fluid. It was beyond the point that they could do anything, and the vet said he had anywhere between 1 day - a week left.

and from when we noticed the issues with his walking up until Saturday morning, he noticeably declined. Became very listless, not acting like himself, mostly just sitting, etc., so we made the choice to put him down to ease his suffering on Saturday morning.

he was the best boy, and such a sweetheart. he truly would be best friends with any human he'd meet. he'd chirp all the time, he knew how to headbutt my fist whenever I held it out to him (he'd even jump to do it), he'd nibble your knee or back of your calf when he wanted something, he was obsessed with cheese (to the point that he knew the sound of the package being open/taken out of the fridge, and would immediately come screaming for cheese), and he was the best cuddler in the entire world.

it's just shitty because he was twelve (turning thirteen in October), but he seemed so spry and young still. we had no idea he was sick; he hid it. It was just so sudden. We have two other cats (one who was his literal blood sister, from the same litter, and another cat as well who clearly looked up to him as her big brother), and they were both very close to him. we brought them along to sniff him after he had passed, but I'm still not sure they understand.

pics below of Arty (his nickname, short for Artemis - he's the big tabby), his sister Luna (the tuxedo - they were named after Artmeis and Luna from Sailor Moon), and our other cat, Freya (fluffy, petit tabby).

anyways this weekend sucked and I'm going to take out my feelings in a Riza angst fic. 🙃