#all the songs are listed now and most of them are easy to find

[animemusicbrackets]

oh i forgot to mention in the bracket announcement that the polls will only be 1 day long (except the final which will be 1 week long)

Sorry to everyone who prefers week long polls i just personally like things to be streamlined

[sorcerous-caress]

Taking you as their fake date to an event

[Fluff, suggustive, romance, humour, fake dating, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart, Karlach, Rolan]

Wyll

In the aftermath of clearing the misunderstanding with his father, Wyll found himself back at the centre of attention in Baldur's Gate's circle of nobles. Everyone wanted to meet the famed blade of frontiers, for the last time they saw him was years ago before he fully matured into the man he is today.

Letter after letter were delivered to your camp. Carrier pigeons barely escaped Tara's claws as they dropped the mail on Wyll's tent and left with most of their feathers intact.

Being the son of the grand duke of Baldur's Gate turned all the heads of any sane noble with a marriage allegeable offspring. Invitation for tea parties, hunting competitions, and even balls for the sole purpose of meeting other people. Wyll's hand was slowly going numb from having to write back formal polite declining letters.

If only there was a way to stop them from the source. He'd sigh and vent to his closest of companions. But Karlach wasn't available at the moment, so he had to make do with the vampire.

"Why not just tell them you've already tied the knot with someone or whatever you humans call it?"

For once, Wyll actually considered listening to the fanged devil on his shoulder.

He approached that topic as delicately as he could when it came to convincing you, inviting you to dinner at a restaurant, waiting until after you're both filled and the lighthearted conversation slowed to bring it up.

"My friend, if I may, there is something I could use a helping hand with."

To his relief, you don't seem uncomfortable to his proposal. If anything, you nonchalantly agreed to be his fake date to the upcoming celebration.

He thanks you with a polite smile, yet for some, his heart beat faster when he pictures you holding onto his arm amongst the crowd. Your formal attire matching his suit. The fact he'd get to call you his fiancé for an evening sends an unexpected heat up to his face.

.

Gale

Tara wakes him up with delight in her eyes one morning, her sing song tone of his last name is more chipper than usual.

"Mr.Dekarios, yoohoo~" she licks his face to get his sleepy eyes to focus on her, "Ms.Dekarios sends her regards, along with a mandatory summon invitation for you this weekend." Tara brings her paw up to her face, cleaning the fur and making herself even more presentable.

Before Gale gets a word in, he is interrupted by a paw smacking against his lips.

"Now now, you wouldn't break the heart of your poor old mother by rejecting her invitation when you haven't seen her in years, would you?" The soft beans against Gale's mouth hold the threat of sharp claws underneath.

Defeated and outsmarted first thing in the morning, the wizard reluctantly nods with a sight.

Deep down, he know this day would eventually come. He couldn't hide the orb and the looming threat over his life from his own mother forever, no matter how he naively hoped to find a cure before having to face her. Coming back to announce you've foolishly consumed untamed magic of chaos isn't the most popular mother's day gift.

But maybe, just maybe he doesn't have to let her know yet. If he could find a distraction.

And lucky for him, the perfect distraction was currently standing outside his open tent, rubbing Tara's belly as she purrs and leans into their arms more.

He devised a plan, a great list of excuses and reasons to sell you the idea of why you should go along with his plan of deception, even prepared a bribe if push came to shove.

Well, two bribes, actually. The first one was the massive breakfast prepared and catered specifically for your taste.

Scurrying to sit in the chair next to you before Halsin could, Gale ignored the cofused look the druid gave him before sitting down at another chair.

Either he was too easy to read, or you've picked up on his pattern of gifts and act of service whenever he has a request. Because he only had to hint at the upcoming home visit before you Blatantly stated that you're willing to go as his date.

"Well...this was certainly much easier than I expected. In fact I've deviced a much more elaborate argument and explanation for when you'd initially refuse."

"Why would I ever refuse Gale?"

You gently caressed the side of his face, wiping a small crumb of bread away from his lips before taking your hand back.

"I...well, uhm. You." With a flustered look, Gale wasn't sure how to respond. Did he remember to comb his morning hair? Oh god, wait, is he still in his pyjamas? Does he even look half presentable right now?

.

Shadowheart

A Selunite introduction party, as her parents explained. She never had the afterparty of her ceremony after the woods passage trial, and her mother really wanted her to see her adorned in the moon maiden silvery dress and white flowers.

How could she say no? Shadowheart only wished for both of their happiness, to make up for lost time as much as she could.

While her father never pressured her, knowing he still has plenty of time with her, her mother wasn't offered the same courtsy by life. So he encouraged Shadowheart to bring someone dear to her maybe, just to reassure her mother that she has a loved one, you know how humans tend to get about finding your soulmate and all of that.

But she felt lost. Was there really someone she could call a soulmate?

Your words echo in her mind, how you gently persuaded her into lowering her weapon. The night orchid you've given her is still kept safely in her journal, tucked away between the soft pages to preserve the petals forever.

What if you don't share her feelings? What if she is just another lost soul that has grown attached to you after you saved them. Afterall, you did end up risking blowing your cover when saving that drow women at moonrise tower.

Minthara's respect for you was nothing to scoff at. What's a cleric's faith when compared to a paladin's devotion?

Yet she still took a chance, a leap of faith for you.

One night before the two of you retreated to your own beds, she stopped you for a short conversation. Reluctance in her voice as she lowered her face and looked up at you, eyes glistening under the moonlight.

She explained her situation, her party for her coming of age ceremony that was long postponed, how she wished for you to accompany her as her date.

"Please, indulge me this once. And we can pretend it never happened afterwards...if that's what you wish." The words pained her to say, but the relief that followed at your acceptance made all the pain worth it.

She isn't sure where your heart lays, but for a day, it will be hers. Her faith will guide her, the faith that maybe one day, you too will return her feelings.

.

Karlach

She was nervously walking back and forth outside your tent just after dinner, unsure of how to approach you or even mention the topic.

Her tail aggiated and is switching between curling around her leg and lashing at the ground below. Karlach didn't bury her emotions as the engine in her chest glowed more and more, matching the redness of the sunset in the horizon.

Really, what was she thinking? Agreeing to the double date her friends offered her. She was too excited at having finally met more people from her past, ones that didn't stab her in the back, and one thing led to another.

It's not that she ment to lie to her friends...it was just hard to tell them that even after all these years, she still doesn't have someone to call her own. It felt embarrassing to admit how alone she was, how touch starved and repressed she felt.

Not to mention how every single one of her friends had already found someone. Most of them were married and the other half on their way to get married.

She didn't think they'd make a big deal out of it when she off-handedly mentioned that she was seeing someone, a simple white lie with no harm done. She thought they'd just be happy for her and move on.

But no, instead, it was as if she grew a second head right then and there. Everyone was so excited to meet her so-called partner.

And so she found herself like this, strolling around your tent like a loser, attempting to muster up the dignity to ask you to pretend to be her partner for tomorrow.

Only when bumped into something and lost her balance did she realise who stood in front of her.

Karlach's body pinned you to the ground with ease, even unintentionally her muscles could easily cage you on. Her skin hot against yours, she lifted her head and your faces were mere inches apart.

You didn't miss the way her eyes glances at your lips, the way her cheeks darkned when you licked them. The heacy of swallow afterwards before her lips twitched into a polite smile.

With a quick apology, she helped you up.

"Say soldier, have you ever played pretend before? You know that game that kids play." Very smooth Karlach, she thought to herself. "Uh...do you think the two of us can maybe play it tomorrow? Haha...ha."

You asked what she meant.

"I kinda of...well, I told my friends that I was already seeing someone so. Could you be that person? I'll pay you back tenfolds, I promise."

"Of course Karlach, anything you want." Accepting the awkward fistbump she offered you, in return you gave her a hug that lingered for more time than it should.

"Cool cool, great. I'll pick you up tomorrow?" Her tail was swishing excitedly behind her, a confident smile on her face as bright as the sun.

.

Rolan

He will show them, he thought, he will show his spoiled bratty siblings that he isn't as uptight and "scares away all suitors" as they claimed!

I mean, have you seen him? He is a very talented and capable wizard, how is it his fault that other people are far too dim and slow to realise how much of a catch he is, how his talent more than makes up for his sometimes bitter personality.

Lia was bragging again about the cute bard she managed to ask out, her third date this week. Rolan swears she is mentioning within earshot if him intentionally, hell even Cal gets the occasional longing stares at any tavren they go to.

Rolan isn't less than them and he will prove it. He just well...hasn't put himself out there yet, so what if he has zero experience with dating and romance? He is a fast learner, he is very confident in his ability to become an excellent lover in to time.

A day goes by, then two and three. Suddenly it's been a full week and he haven't had a speck of luck when it came to romancing someone. It's almost as if any person he approaches immediately loses interest the second he opens his mouth.

He is getting desperate, he can't let Lia know about this. She will never ever let him live it down.

So when you find him in the elfsong tavren, sitting alone on a table nursing on his drink with his tail curled around his leg. You stare at him long enough to catch his interest.

He recognises you immediately, you could see the cogs turning in his alcohol clouded mind.

"You, come here." He yells the order across the tavren, catching himself afterwards and clearing his thraot to lessen the embarrassment of the situation. Still his eyes begged you to approch him.

And you did, walking to his table and sitting down. After all your companions were still sleeping upstairs so what's the harm in indulging one drunk grumpy tiefling when you were supposed to be on a supply run.

Rolan orders you a drink too, his treats, he says without meeting your eyes.

And just as you take a sip, he lays it on you bluntly.

"From now on, I'm your boyfriend."

You choke on your drink, it takes him a moment to register the way he phrased his question.

Clearing his throat again, he refuses to meet your eyes as a blush colours his cheek. "No not like this, don't get the wrong idea."

Now you're sitting there, confused as the waiter brings you a towel to wipe down the drink you spilled on yourself. You thank them and take it, giving Rolan enough time to attempt to compose himself.

"I know i haven't made the best of impressions on you." He finally speaks up, "but I need you." His voice is more honest, a hint of vulnerability, "your help I mean. Lia and Cal, I want to prove them wrong."

His glossy eyes meet yours, the alcohol loosened his tongue.

"I'm not unlovable." He whipsers, "I'm not going to beg for a chance, I just need your cooperation for a day or two, just to shut them up."

Your hand goes above the table, wrapping around his own fist softly. "I understand, it's okay." You give it a light squeeze, "you don't have to explain yourself."

Somehow, your few words helped relieve his heart from its burden more than this whole night of drinking ever could.

[tinydefector]

lovers amongst the stars

Megatron × GN human

Small post smut, after-care fic

No real warnings: naked bodies, craving each other.

because I love soft megatron falling even more in love.

1K words

Request and ask open, read pinned post

Megatron Masterlist

---------

Megatron watches in the dark shadow of the hub suite, optics flickering in the low light that filters in from the flickering stars. A Soft naked form is silhouetted against the starlight and darkness, his optics traces his lovers form in true contentment. His human lover gracefully moving against the piles of silk and satin soft pants falling from their lips.

How Megatron longs to close the distance between them again, to take their fragile flesh into his powerful servos and hold it close, to feel skin pressed against his haul, listen to the soft music that falls from kiss swollen lips.to hear the angelic frequency when they call his name in extasy, he remains watching, gazing his fill of their stunning form,

He feels his spark stutter as his lover turns, optics meeting those delicate eyes sparking with the red glow of his own. now gazing upon him. A soft smile curves his human's lips, and Megatron is undone wishing to have his lover pressed back against him in the most intimate manner possible.

Before he can beg forgiveness for his voyeurism, they moves to him, taking Megatron's battle-scarred servo between both hands. Megatron holds perfectly still, vents catching, as they presses gentle kisses along the seams and lines of his digit joints, tracing each line and curve.

No weapon of war has ever been treated with such tenderness, nor from one so small and delicate. Megatron's chains suddenly feel unbearably tight. This human, this mere organic, sees not a conqueror or tyrant of worlds - only sees Megatron, their lover. Megatron thinks that perhaps, just perhaps, he too can settle for an easy life if it was ever granted to him, but only with his sweetspark, he would damn himself just for them.

"Megs?" Falls from his lovers lips lightly as those eyes stares into megatron's ruby coloured optics. Turning more to come megatron's faceplate with a small hand tracing the lines that had worn into the plating over millennia's of war, soft fingers move against hard metal with the most delicate touch as if afraid they would hurt him.

Megatron's optics shutter briefly at the intimacy of the act and that single word, his nickname. He leans into the gentle touch on his battle-scarred face,his own servos tracing familiar curve of their hip, side and legs. servos itching to pull that fragile form close, to feel them wrapped around him again.But still he remains motionless.

Onlining his optics again, Megatron finds them gazing up at him searchingly, as if tracing far more than mere plating, how megatron wish it could be his spark in this humans hands. hand continues its path undaunted, and Megatron feels his chains loosening one link at a time. This human accepts him - all of him, past and present. And in those arms, Megatron believes he has finally found a home.

Megatron feels his sparks swell at the sound of giggles. He had not meant to let his gaze linger. megatron's thumb presses against his lovers chest, the soft beat of their heart, still races, metal against skin, Both existing in the silence of the hub suite only the two of them and flickering star light. "Didn't realise you enjoyed listening to my heartbeat" they teases. leaning into the giant metal hand as if it were made to fit again the organic form.

In this moment there is only them - two beings from separate worlds joined in the simple meeting of metal and flesh, spark and heart. Truely they were starcross lovers. Megatron lets the steady rhythm wash over him, that despite all odds somehow one so fragile has found the will to keep his spark beating. "I had not realized either, little one," Megatron rumbles softly, optics dimming in contentment, "but its song is sweeter than any chorus of Cybertron. I could listen to it every night and never tire of it, a song that sings for me in such a delicate manner, my sweet spark singer" He bends slowly to touch his helm to theirs, surrounding and surrounded by the life and light and love that has cracked through his armor at long last.

Megatron's optics dim fully as press forehead to helm together in the most intimate of gestures. For a gladiator built only for destruction, the simple contact feels like salvation, crackling through his circuits like the riches high grade energon. They are everything.

Megatron never thought he could have - redemption, compassion, unconditional acceptance of his marred and stained past. In his sweetsparks presence, all of Megatron's eons of hardship and conflict seem to fade, leaving only the glow of their mingled life-forces, one metallic and eternal, the other warm and fleeting. Megatron vows silently to shield this fragile gift with his very spark. As long as it beats, he would love them until the stars took him.

They may come from different worlds, but in each other they have found home, and that is well worth fighting - and living - for. Megatron folds them carefully against his chassis, embracing this divine fragile frame.for the heavens that have seen fit to bring them together if only for a moment in time.

A low, resonant hum rises from Megatron's chassis in response to the sensuality of the moment, vibrating through the plating against thier cheek. One small hand covers the gleaming silver armor guarding Megatron's spark, and he aches to show the glow within, to bare that most vulnerable part of himself without fear of its light extinguishing.

optics shuttered in blissful tranquility as Megatron's armored hand comes up slowly to cradle his lover closer. finds himself humming a nameless tune, some half-remembered melody from his time in the mines. his spark has stilled to a soothing tide. Here is absolution, amnesty, and above all else - love, freely given without demand for anything in return. Megatron marvels at the simple beauty of it, the soft skin of his human lover drapes over him in the most tranquil way possible.

This was one of the things the Ex warlord loved the most about his Conjunx.

[seancekitsch]

The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Three

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

My Daring Unfamiliar,

Quite coy of me to evade you? And what of your clever ways of evading me? I find myself no closer to figuring out your identity, though I feel more drawn to you than before. I too am glad you are not betrothed, as a vibrant woman such as yourself you should not find yourself shackled to one of the stuffy men of King’s Landing probably twice your age. It does seem to be their proclivity, as loathsome as it is. I am glad for your friendship, even if I do not know who you are. Even if I feel I will waste away and die without knowing who you are. To think, am I on your list? Are you on mine? I will admit I have my list narrowed down to six women, those that I think daring and smart enough to be you. Perhaps after this letter I will narrow it down even farther. I find I will be searching for your frazzled hair and short temper now that I know what to look for in this humidity. Of course I only jest. I am certain that what you think is unkempt is only marred because one is always critical of the face in the mirror, I am certain such wit and a sharp mind is accompanied by beauty to match.

How is it that a lady of noble birth would ever want to visit a place like Lys? Do you not know of its reputation? Of the pleasure gardens and pillow houses? Of the pirates that lurk there from the triarchy? I have not been there myself, but I do have a few of their coin, of which were taken off of a triarchy pirate. A gift, for you, is one of them I have sealed with this letter. You are an even bigger mystery to me now, knowing that a place such as Lys piques your interest so. But to answer your other questions, I have been to Dorne and Oldtown. Dorne is interesting, some parts a vast desert and others a beautiful oasis. Their wines and silks are the loveliest in all of Westeros, their people far less concerned with the pretenses that we are. Can you believe that I was asked to dance with a man’s wife openly? Such things could never occur here, although I will say that I did very much enjoy that everyone spoke plainly of their intentions and emotions. It was freeing to have that, and the courts proved all too constricting to me every day after. These letters to you are the closest I have had to that feeling since my travel there, and I appreciate you doubly for it. I am glad that I have found someone that I may converse openly with, ignoring status or titles or circumstances.

I will also say that the Queen is correct, Oldtown is maybe the most beautiful city in the kingdoms united. There is nothing more lush than its gardens, more splendid than its chateaus filled with artifacts and scrolls dating back to the conqueror, nothing more breathtaking than the flame at the top of the citadel.

I fear that you will find me boring, if I now admit my love of tourneys. I find the spectacle magnificent, and the skill and prowess on display to be a display of the strength of our shared kingdoms and crown. Perhaps I will find you and make it all the less boring for you. I do hope that my eyes will find yours amidst the crowd, and your countenance will make itself known to me immediately through some supernatural knowing. I will be searching for you in every row of the stands, praying to the seven that it will be easy. More importantly, tell me your favorite song, and I shall learn to play it for you. Or even, you may tell me your favorite poem and I shall transcribe it to song for you, a new creation of art for my Unfamiliar.

I do hope that I have discovered you by the next feast, so that I can ask you to dance properly, and that we may converse without the guise of the quills. So that I may grasp your hand to know that you are real. I assure you that I will be a spoiled man if I am to watch you dance circles around me, and a man utterly ruined if I get to steal more than one dance.

Your letters have cooled a part of me too warm, warmed a part of me too cool.

Truly,

Your Unfamiliar.

You look down at the golden ribbon tied into your sleeves for the day, your mind thinking only of the fact that he had underlined Your in his signing off. He considers himself yours. More, you think of the Lyseni coin that he had tucked into the parchment, a golden oval with the portrait of a naked woman engraved into it. An obscene gift for a lady of the court, but one you cherish because it is from your unfamiliar. Yours yours yours. It now lies in your jewelry box, a dingy coin amongst your finest of necklaces and rings. You have narrowed your list down. It is for certain not Darklyn or Beesbury. The names left are Lord Rowan, Ser Loras Florent, Ser Gwayne Hightower. You have picked out these ribbons for Lord Rowan, as a subtle sign of acknowledgment of his house colors, strikingly different from your own. You do not exactly wish it to be any of the men on your list, however. Lord Rowan is a complete stranger to you, Ser Loras you know to frequent married women’s beds, and Ser Gwayne… infuriates you. All of these men handsome and on parchment suitable matches, yet picturing any of them on the other side of the quill feels wrong. So you are hedging your bets in the days leading up to the tourney by attempting to garner the attention of the complete stranger. Maybe he is well traveled and sharp and charming like your unfamiliar.

Although you admit, the first day you did not see Lord Rowan anywhere within the Red Keep. Nor the day after that or yesterday. And now, the morning of the tourney, you hope that whatever hole he has crawled into he has emerged from so you can look into his eyes and figure out if he is yours. It’s silly, to think that you could tell, but maybe you can? Maybe this is like one of the fairytales you were told when you were young.

Only, it’s not Lord Rowan that you find in the hallways.

“Oh, please don’t tell me this is a new look for you,” Gwayne’s voice calls from the other end of the hall. How is it that the Red Keep is so large, yet Gwayne Hightower is inescapable?

“And if it is?” you call back. Gwayne closes the distance between you, his armor clanking the entire time. He is dressed and ready for his tilt in the tourney already.

“I’d say Lord Rowan is remiss for ignoring your efforts, but I’d also say you are wasting your time,” Gwayne smiles widely. He knows something. Your fingers start to fiddle with one of the ribbons, knowing you could easily pull them all out. It’s horrible, that for as rude you and Gwayne may be to each other sometimes, you can see that he’s not trying to humiliate you right now.

“Why?” you ask, pouting in frustration.

“Because he found out that he’s been writing to Lady Caswell, and now they are courting.”

Oh. That is a very good reason, indeed. You yank at the ribbon you’d been toying with, then the next one and the next one until your hands are full of the little ribbons, and hastily you look for somewhere to toss them, but there is none.

“Thank you for informing me,” you say, trying to steady your voice as much as possible.

“It seems you are no closer to finding out who writes you than I am.”

“I keep a list of his qualities to try to narrow it down.”

“As do I with my lady.”

“May I see your list?”

“Would you tell me who is on your list, if I did?”

“No.”

“Then my answer is the same.”

You are once again at an impasse with Gwayne Hightower, two immovable objects in the tide. 

“I hope you find your woman without the issue I face, I guess,” you offer, not exactly meaning it but not trying to be mean. If this is as trying for you, it has to be for every unwed person in the castle too. As much as your love for the Hightower family finds its limits at the brother, you still wish to carry on the tenants of this experiment for at least your friend.

“Then I shall see upon you at the tourney,” Gwayne says, and then tilts his head “Though I rather see you in different colors.”

“And what colors would you wish?” you ask, though you regret the words as they die on your tongue. He looks you up and down, and then scoffs.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Hours later, at the tourney, you are sat three seats away from Queen Alicent Hightower. You are dressed in the deep burgundy and blue color of your house and idly snapping your fingers closed on each of the elder Targaryen children’s hands; your fake predator of a hand keeping little Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena preoccupied for now. You wish that games like these could entertain you equally, but instead all runs through your mind is your Unfamiliar. Is he here, indeed? You hate that you have to be here, but yet you find your head almost whipping around in search. You told your Unfamiliar that you’d be searching for him; and you are. But with every turn of your head you seem to recognize and be bored of everyone. Bringing a favor to this event even feels silly at this point. You do not feel the spark you had hoped for. In fact, nothing draws anything besides boredom from you until late in the day.  

That is when Gwayne Hightower atop a horse galavants across the royal box and back again. Despite your ebbing annoyance from him earlier, you find yourself tensing in your seat. If not on your own, then on his sister’s behalf. You remember what she told you about the last tourney that Gwayne had attended in King’s Landing. To be almost killed by Daemon Targaryen himself, maybe the only person in all of Westeros you found truly and deeply loathsome and terrifying, is a memory that clearly stains the Queen’s outlook on this tourney. You tense and worry and stop your little game with the children in rapt attention, for her. 

His armor glimmers in the sunlight, blight enough to blind. His smile, though obscured by the helm, is similarly blinding. You’re certain he remembers his brush with death at the hands of the Rogue Prince, but his demeanor would say otherwise. He is the definition of confident bravado. This man looks foreign to the uncertain and studious man you spoke with the other day in the library. 

Lord Manderly has his horse trot and dance as he crosses the pitch, not yet a knight but clearly already presenting the same qualities as any of the rest of them. Soon, you are certain, he will be laughing and chasing women around with the rest of them. The northern stoicism does not seem to carry to this man, as he laughs and points into the crowd, at friends and serving people and women he may ask for favor. 

Both men cross back and forth, searching the crowds, their jousting lances upturned to the heavens as they circle, the crowd growing ever the more excited. 

You clutch your favor, unwilling to let it leave your grasp as a pit forms in your stomach every time Gwayne passes by the royal box. You look down the row of chairs to Alicent, who is already looking at you; her hands frustratedly pick at one another, her nails already rimmed with crimson. You offer her a weak smile, hoping it is enough to reassure her as the thought dawns on you: she has not seen her brother fight since that day. Sparring and training were nothing like this. And though Lord Manderly is no Daemon Targaryen, Alicent is really and truly afraid. You reach your free hand over the children’s heads, and her fingertips copy the gesture to brush against yours, your comfort not lost on her. It is moments like this where you feel truly wanted and needed here, and you could not imagine yourself traveling anywhere else. The love and friendship of the queen is almost enough. 

But her eyes snap away from your gaze, and your attention follows. 

There, resting at the railing, is Ser Gwayne Hightower’s jousting lance pointed at you. 

Shit.

Does he mean to humiliate you? A jape for your attitude towards him earlier? A way to twist and soil your efforts to find your letter writer?

You grimace at him, unsure of what to say as little Aegon fiddles with one of the ribbons on your favor. 

“My Lady, may your favor give me some of that fiery personality of yours. Perhaps your boldness will inspire the courage to win,” His smile is wide as he talks, as if he is holding back a laugh. You wish to snarl at him, hurl insult after insult, but his sister watches with rapt attention. 

“Perhaps you are already too bold, Ser,” you retort, but Aegon tugs harder on your favor. 

“My Lady, I will name you Queen of Love and Beauty if I win,” he presses, eyes darting to his sister before back to yours. It feels conspiratorial. 

“You wish me to have a line of suitors? How kind, Ser Gwayne.”

“I wish to repay a favor you’ve given me,” he explains, and begrudgingly you pull the favor from the little prince’s grasp to wrap it around the lance, the wine red and blue ribbons with embroidered grape leaves easily sliding down to where the base flares out, cementing itself on his weapon. The entire act feels intimate and strange, your handmade favor never having been given, and your eyes never truly meeting his for this long at once. Even from a distance, you can see the shining hazel. 

“You’d better win, I worked hard on that embroidery,” is all you offer, but anything else would feel far too tender, far too genial for the tense at best relationship between you. 

With that, Gwayne winks at you and has his horse trot off, proudly lifting his lance with your favor up to the entire crowd. The pit in your stomach deepens, realizing that if your Unfamiliar is truly here today, you now appear unavailable to him all because of Gwayne Hightower. You could hate him for this. 

But all you can do is sigh as you lean back into your chair, now completely ruined for the entire event. You chew your bottom lip as the dread settles in you, your hopes for the day dashed and taken away by your dearest friend’s brother. 

“Why do you look sour?” Aegon, who now has nothing to keep him idle, asks, “I’d name you Love and Beauty too.”

You roll your eyes as you give the prince a cheeky smile.

“I’m too old for you, little princeling. Move along.”

He sneers at you, but there’s no malice in the little boys face, and he turns back to his siblings to talk to them. Alicent looks over their heads at you, a curious and accusatory look on her face. You’d called her brother a brute, a ruffian, every rude name in the book but here you were giving him your favor with little protest as he talks of naming you Queen of Love and Beauty. Surely, she knows of her brother’s reputation, but you are the big question mark in this situation. 

“When did your loathing of my brother subside?” She asks, finally no longer picking at her hands as this now occupies her. 

“It did not,” you explain, “I merely helped him find a book the other day. He thinks this will repay me for my efforts.”

Alicent’s lips turn upward, a ghost of a laugh in the form of a sigh leaves her. She shakes her head, and finally her gaze breaks yours, casting her eyes to her brother on the field below. 

“Whatever he was looking for must have been very important,” The Queen mutters, and that ends the conversation. 

Gwayne and Lord Manderly line up, opposite sides of their tilt barrier on opposite sides of the list. Otto Hightower speaks, as Viserys’ voice does not find him lately. The King is weakening, today a rare public outing. You are certain that sooner rather than later, Alicent will take the reins and you will be her unofficial hand. 

“Let the final tilt begin!”

Needing no further encouragement, the men urge their horses forward, lances tilted forward and favors blowing in the wind. Gwayne’s lance finds purchase, easily shattering the wooden shield of Lord Manderly, the force of it pushing the northern lord backwards off his horse. However, this is the gruesome part. The moment Lord Manderly hits the ground, a squire brings forth his sword. Gwayne slows his horse, and jumps from the saddle with ease. He passes his shield and lance to his own squire, and reaches for his own sword. The two men run towards each other and finally you find yourself cringing in your seat. The memories of the Hightower Knight covered in blood flash through your mind as if they were yesterday. You grab the material of your skirt, white-knuckling the fabric to the point that you’re certain you’re ruining it.

You worry for Alicent, worry for the outcome of the tourney, worry for the fate of the favor you spent time making, and finally you let yourself admit that you do indeed worry for Gwayne Hightower. As much as he vexes you, you do not want him harmed. Being pompous is not a crime punishable by cracked ribs or bloodied eyes. Damning yourself and your superstitions, you allow yourself to pretend that your favor grants him some kind of protection spell. 

Gwayne’s sword clashes loudly against Lord Manderly’s, sparks flying as metals meet. He dodges and parries easily, and it becomes clear to you that he is the stronger fighter. It calms you, but only slightly. One wrong move could still give Manderly an advantage. But he disarms Manderly at the last moment, the sword flying through the air as Gwayne kicks the man down, his own blade pointed towards the mans face. 

He wins. Gwayne wins. 

You let out a breath, loud and relieved, no longer really caring about your appearances. Alicent too, untended her shoulders, and ushers for wine to be brought from your serving girl. The girls pour into both of your goblets seconds later, and both of you drink deeply. You look over to Alicent, whose other hand holds her seven pointed star in silent prayer, a torn up thumb rubbing meaningful circles across the points. 

“This fear does not become thee,” you remark playfully, smiling at her, “He is fine, you may celebrate.”

“And you may…” but her words die on her lips, now forming into a bigger smile than before as her attention drifts from you. Gwayne rides towards your box, lance back in hand as well as a crown of flowers.

He stops just ahead of you, his horse’s shoulder just against the box. You rise, and lean over to the edge of the railing, to the winning knight. 

“I chose the flowers, I do hope they bring joy to you even if I may not,” he tells you, and you cannot sense a jape in his voice. 

“Thank you, Ser Gwayne, I will wear them with honor,” you tell him, and duck your head down so he may place the ring of flowers, with a trail of flowers downward in the back, onto your head gracefully. His fingers, though gloved, are gentle against your head, his touch soft and careful. 

You rise up, the smile on your face not exactly facetious. As a child you did once dream of this very thing; maybe with a different circumstance, but you did wish this. That is, before you knew how much you disliked tourneys in practice. 

“My Queen of Love and Beauty!” He cries out, and the entire stadium cheers. 

It’s hours later that you finally get to return to your chambers and remove the crown to inspect it further. The ring itself is Mountain Larkspur, a fully poisonous plant. The thought makes you laugh, that Gwayne would pick such a toxic bloom for his Queen of Love and Beauty. But it is to be said that the Larkspur signify lightheartedness, humor, and an open heart. The trail of flowers that rested on the back of your head are Grape Hyacinths, which based on your family, should be a compliment to their legacy. But these flowers signify sincerity, and you’ve been to enough weddings to recognize them. They are more a mauve than a blue like the Larkspur, and those wealthy in the knowledge of bouquet language would know that they symbolize a desire for forgiveness. 

Curious, you think, that Gwayne would go out of his way to mention that he had chosen these flowers. Were they truly and truce between you? Was he trying to tell you something without saying it?

You push through thoughts from your mind, deciding not to dwell on them, lest they give you a headache. 

The quill in your hand touches the paper, releases, touches again. 

It’s quickly that you realize you will not get any writing done, even here at your library desk. You sigh as you push yourself up from your chair, hastily packing everything into your bag as if it pains you to do so. 

It is quick, the trip back to your chambers to change into your simplest dress and cloak, and back out into the hallways, and into the labyrinth of Maegor’s tunnels you had found years ago when Aemond was still just a wish. You pull the cloak closer to you by the strap of your bag, wrapping yourself in a bundle by candlelight as you walk the barely worn path, your candle the only light as you navigate past each stone. It took turning and and faith to get you towards the edge, and for the last twenty feet you blew out the candle for fear of getting caught, but finally the moonlight would hit your face. The tunnels set you out at a district of King’s Landing littered with taverns and food stalls. The food stalls you never saw, for you only come here when you need to write and use some ale in your belly to make the words move more easily. Sure, you could ask a serving girl to fetch you a flagon, but for some reason that did not work the way that writing in a dingy corner with the smallfolk does. Perhaps it is their songs, their open way of speaking, their camaraderie that inspires and spurs you on. 

You enter The Roost, the favorite of these taverns for you. 

“Girlie!” the barkeep calls as you enter, and you shush him as you rush towards the bar to order. As far as the owners of this tavern know, you are a well paying woman attempting to cover up an affair. While they are discreet, they do not hide their fondness of you or your coin. 

“Keep the ale flowing,” you tell the burly man, fatherly and kind, “I’ll be at my back booth.”

“Will do, girlie,” he responds, and you move to the other room behind the bar, a room with two long tables and six small alcoves each dotted with wooden half circle booths. The tavern is busy, but you move through the crowd deftly, easily reaching your little bench and placing your belonging down. You settle in easily, your parchments and your quill and ink easily spread out across the table and one of the barmaids brings you a large flagon of ale. 

You tip the rim of the drink into your lips and drink heartily, careful not to tip your head back too far or else your hood will tip off from your hair and expose you. 

Your quill hits the parchment more easily now. 

My Dearest Unfamiliar,

How dramatic! To think that you will die if you do not know my identity. Though I will not ease your pain, I will give no name in this letter. I find myself narrowing the list of who you may be: an unmarried man, a sensitive yet playful man, well traveled and well read, the best of all things. With words that compliment me, flattery flushing my own face as I read your letters. There are far and few men in the Red Keep that match that distraction. There are three men now on my list after this tourney, and I do hope that I have determined you right. Are you searching for a wife from these letters, I wonder? an a man not yet betrothed, it cannot be distant from your mind. I will have you know that I did not see you during the tourney, or at least I do not think I did. I tried hard to look for you, I looked at every man, but I was not sure what countenance to look for. I will say myself, I am not certain I want a courtship from this, but I do find myself more interested in the idea and the affection that comes from it with each of your letters. You are warming a heart usually icy, My Unfamiliar. Is it too forward to say that when and if I find your identity, I wish to kiss you? It will not be my first kiss, I admit, but I would want to bestow one upon you. Even if you did not want to court me, if only just to thank you for being a just and honest companion for me. I am not saying that I am hoping, but I am hopeful.

I will have you know, My Unfamiliar, that I have read A Caution for Young Girls by the Corinne Wylde, and read it well. The legends of Lys will not make me balk or shy away. I am, as I have said, interested in seeing the world warts and all. I want to see everything that the world can show me. I will say, I do appreciate your gift of the Lysine coin. It is exhilarating to hold something of value to a life so far from my own, to treasure it as if I would a jewel.

Would that I should thrive in a place like Dorne? To speak freely and open tongued. You make it sound such a lively place compared to this. How I wish to experience their wines in a setting where I can speak like the Dornish. Perhaps though, and most likely, if I may be granted leave from court, I will see how grand and lovely Oldtown is. I would love to spend an afternoon perusing the scrolls or reading inscriptions on artifacts just as much as I would enjoy any grand view or adventure.

I will tell you that I do not find you boring for enjoying tourneys, especially because I did not find myself as bored as usual at this one. Though I will say my amusement came from looking for you, I guess I can admire what a tourney is supposed to represent.I am saddened, though, that I could not recognize you immediately. I was hoping some sort of spell could overtake me and cast mine eyes only to yours. I however, just saw many faces in the crowd, and narrowed my list no further.

I find though, that I would appreciate any piece of art you would offer. I am a lover of the arts and a purveyor of understanding them. Jenny of Oldstones is a song I find myself drifting towards often, the lyrics catching me. How beautiful, a woman dancing with the ghosts of the past? How often do we all do the same? Is our love fated by stars, written into the histories? Or is love as fleeting as a ghost on the wind?

For the next feast, I shall try to come up with some coded word. Something we shall say to each other so we will know who we are. I fear giving a dance to just anyone, lest they try to court me and take me away from whatever is between us.

Yours as well;

Your Unfamiliar

The letter is, plainly, too forward. You do not care, though, as you finish off your ale and motion for another one. It’s only now that you look upon the tavern’s rooms, surveying the guests and all their revelry. Your eyes scan, casual and unassuming, until you fall upon a crop of auburn hair. Could it be? You look the the hazel eyes attached, surely, it’s him. But is it? No, it cannot be. The man makes no move towards you, no stern recognition in his gaze, just a simple gaze upon you as you stare back. And the spell is broken as another ale is set before you.

It cannot be him, you think to yourself.

[harksness]

Agatha Reader Insert Blurb (SFW)

Ok idk how many ppl are gonna read this but pls I would love for this to be a bit of a discussion for how people would apply this to themselves/their little pleasures.

Agatha is really good at staying up to date with things as the times change. She needs to make sure she fits in so she doesn't rouse any suspicion, right? So she has to, for survival. Fashion trends, politics, current events, and so on she's on top of.. But she's not good at staying up to date with music. She's horrible about it. You needed to explain everyone from Nirvana to Britney Spears to Billie Eilish to her.

When the 70s hit, she fell in love with that era and hasn't left it. The Cure, Elton John, David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, (heavy on Fleetwood Mac), and she just hasn't really kept up since. She's listened to Rumors on repeat since it was released. (Just from vibes alone I feel like she'd love Dreams and probably crushed on Stevie Nicks.)

When you two start dating and you realize this, you think it's so cute. You listen to all of her favorite albums and songs, and love to listen to her stories from the concerts she's gone to. She ends up being a bit of a music dork, she loved going to concerts back in the day but as her favorite artists grew older and slowed down with touring she stopped going to shows.

So you introduce her to more music to bring that love back out of her. (Going off of my favorite musicians) she loves Weezer (Only in Dreams!!), Green Day (LAST NIGHT ON EARTH??), Bastille (Icarus, The Anchor, Warmth??) Chappell Roan, and unexpectedly, Britney Spears!! Also specifically Dragula by Rob Zombie. ("Dig through the ditches and burn through the witches" it should be her badass theme song lmao) (Feel free to add on in the comments w your favorite artists + songs you think she'd like!!)

She'll always go back to her old music taste, but you do notice her peppering in some songs you introduced to her and humming Pink Pony Club to herself.

You bought general admissions tickets to see your favorite artist and surprised her with them. And she's so excited, a wide smile on her face and eyes scrunched up in the cutest way. She looks up the set list to make sure she knows every song.

Because even though she's really good at staying up to date with most things, some stuff slips through the cracks. Or she doesn't have time for all of it. But it's easy for you to see just how much she enjoys discovering things she's missed out on, curiosity seeping through her voice as her wondering eyes light up with interest and it just really tugs on your heart. So you're always trying to find little things she doesn't know about yet.

Poptarts? She's like tf are those let me try them now. She loves the cookies and cream flavor but can only eat one because she thinks they're too sugary. You show her your old DS from when you were young? She gets addicted to Animal Crossing, Agnes is her favorite villager and she loves having you sit and watch her play. Tik Tok? She gets weirdly into Reddit stories. She tries to deny it and calls them stupid while she goes to find part two. Then continues to gossip about the story with you. Then points out everything that makes it obviously fake. (Add any more in the comments that relate to you or you'd just see from her!)

I just feel like Agatha has devoted over three hundred years to magic and big, huge things and adventures that she never gets to really indulge in the little pleasures in life. She has a lot of them to catch up on. While she tries to deny having any interest in it, she really does love when you show her the fun, pointless little things she's missed out on and just a sweet way the two of you really bond.

[watermelons-whump-game]

The Challenge

I've enjoyed whump for as long as I can remember, when I was a kid I rewatched my favourite scenes in movies and reread the whumpiest parts of books I liked, later on I discovered listening to music and watching music videos and such to scratch that itch in my brain. I've been collecting whumpy songs (lyrics, lines and videos) since 2020, and the list just keeps growing, and now that I finally organised it, I thought I'd share it in the most fun format I could think of; the challenge was born, in a format that suits my personal quirks the best, which I hope you'll find to be easy to work with.

The format

You can join the challenge in two ways:

Prompt List

Get What You Get

Prompt list: 13 songs, each assigned 1 to 3 tropes, the format resembles a bingo

Get what you get: 1 song with it's assigned trope(s)

How to participate

Send a PM/ask

Choose if you want a list or a song

I'll send you the prompts ;)

Post your work

I'll reblog it here

I'm open for requests as well, for that send me a number between 1-100 and I'll write something for the song with that number on my list.

Rules

Have fun with writing!

Use the title of the song as the title

There is no minimum word count or a time restriction

Tag this account in your work @watermelons-whump-game

Use the tags #MusicWhumpGame and #MusicWhumpList or #MusicWhumpGWYG

Important Info

Using any of the tropes is optional, up to you if you use all, some, one or none/song (im saying this for like heavier tropes specifically or personal squicks, otherwise the challange is in using them all ;))

There are explicit/suggestive songs and tropes on the list, writing NSFW/noncon scenes is allowed, but it needs to be tagged appropriately as such!

Songs with gory/NSFW lyrics will be indicated by being written in red, if you want to avoid these on your list lmk

The List will look like this:

Songs and artists can be found in the image description!

The GWYG looks like this:

Tagging those, who said they were interested:

@mousepaw @written-by-jayy

[tismtron]

Could i request for the matsunos sextuples to react to obsessive Reader asking them "do You think you'll kill for me one day?" Like lana del rey's song "i want it all" hehehe

“Yes, of course I will my Darling.”

This was giving Mafia au so I was going to make based off them to make it more exciting. And it’s one of my favorite aus.

(Only warning for suggested murder)

Reader-afab she/her pronouns NOT PROOF READ YET

The Don Matsuno was known for being a lot of things. Prideful, Solipsistic, Vulgar, Comical, Egotistical, the list goes on. To sum up how he works in one word would be Direct. Everything about him can be seen as straightforward as he prefers to make orders clear enough to not mess up.

To his lover, His wife, to you, are well familiar with his work and how he can be. One of the reasons why you fell in love with him. Hell you love a lot about him. You catch yourself wearing his signature color red more often to his parties and meetings you are allowed to attend. The smell of his cigars he smokes lingers in his clothes makes you yearn for him when he’s away. One night when you were getting ready for on of his parties celebrating another successful business reap from his families casino and drug trafficking. You sat at your vanity mirror putting on your makeup when Osomatsu leaned on your shared bedroom doorframe. You glanced over at your husband who’s dressed to the nines in a formal black suit and blood red overcoat. You still find it funny how you still obsess over him like a crush even when you two are married.

Your mind began to wonder, does he feel the same way towards you? You were so close to him that you are in close touch with the rest of his family. But a small voice inside you makes you think his love may be superficial. He’s killed people. In the early start of his family business he did with his own hands. Now as the Don he can just send his men and grunts to take care of that for him. Would he kill for you?

“Would you kill for me one day?”

It just slipped out of your red lipstick glossed lips like it was a normal question.

He paused his moments while he lit a cigar, peering at you before putting the said cigar to his tongue.

“Of course.” He now strides to where you sat, making sure to keep eye contact with you through the mirror.

“You would?” Your voice still soft but clear. Searching for earnest truth his voice. Osomatsu puts his arms on either side of yours so hes caging you in his chest. “I would kill someone myself with nothing but my own hands for you. You are my world, my wife.”

Being the right hand man in a mass mafia organization is not a clean nor easy job to have. He’s the second most powerful man in his families business, following out the Dons orders and organizing the workers and grunts to do their respective jobs. You his spouse are allowed to be aware of what he does by the blessing of his mother. He’s very good at his job and goes above and beyond to protect you from any harm that does inevitably come with this business. But what really made you fall head over heels was how he tried his best to make sure you know that you’re loved. Karamatsu will take you on expensive fancy dinner dates when he’s off work. He will always have room for you in his schedule no matter what. You asked him the question when you were finished with patching up his wounds from today’s job. He had to supervise a couple trade transactions with only one getting out of hand.”you would ever Kill for me one day?” You asked while he was staring at his bandaged hand, now shifting up to meet your gaze. “Yes of course would my darling. What would make you think I wouldn’t my turtle dove?” His corny nicknames made you swoon at how he’s such a hopeless romantic. “I’d kill god himself for you my dear.”

The strategist coordinates all the money laundering and heists. Tracking the amount of money that goes in and out of the bank and each trade the family makes and spends. You do wake up at night to see him crunching numbers at three in the morning and have to usher him back to bed. You do see the stress in his eyes when his other brothers don’t take him serious unless it’s about the next mission. You two were at a party hosted by the Don with alliances and family. You were trying to find him in the crowd before spotting him at the balcony on his phone and a cigarette perched to his lips.

“Room for one more?” You joked as you poked you head out the door.

“Always.” He sighs with a smile realizing it’s you. A puff of smoke leaving his lips as you fix his tie.

“You know at a party you’re not supposed to be working.” You eyed his phone that was tracking there opposition that’s currently on the other side of the ocean.

“I guess you’re right.” He gives in before putting his phone away in his pocket.

The both you spent the night dancing and conversing with the other guests at the party. When you two were taking the limo back is when you asked him. “Would you kill for me if you had to?” His eyes go wide for a second. Feeling this question being unprompted. “You’re always worried about your work. I just don’t know if you would put in the same effort for me sometimes.” You look out the window when you say this. Not seeing the hurt in his face.

”Of course I would kill for you. dont ever think that I wouldn’t.” He grabs your hand and interlocks it with his, grabbing you chin with his finger so you’d make eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry for being so busy i promise I’ll do anything for you.”

When your spouse the Executioner of his families mafia business you get used to his suits being stained with blood in the laundry hamper.

He’s cold and rough to everyone, including to some of his family, but you get to see the hidden parts of him most don’t get to see. And you know you’ve worked hard to get to that point with him. And he’s worked hard to trust you, not just with himself but also with his family, his work, his life. You brought up the question you met up with him while he fed his tiger in the cellar. The same cellar he kept hustling tools and supplies. You leaned your head on his shoulder as he gave the last of the human arm to the tiger. His jaws crushing down of the tender bone with a crunch like it was nothing.

“Would you kill for me if you had to?”

Your eyes still at the feasting tiger while ichimatsu pressed a kiss on your scalp.

“I do this everyday.” He’s not mad, you can tell in his gruff tone he’s just tired.

“I know baby.” You hummed taking his arm in yours to drag him upstairs to get ready for bed. As you got under the covers of the bed he sat of the bed in his boxers. His back was covered in elaborate ink markings from the big tattoo he got. All of his brothers including him get a massive and detailed body tattoos to signify their roles and their status. Atop the back tattoo that’s marked his skin are scars and old bullet wounds. Some you remember patching up for him.”I’d kill anyone for even looking at you. you know that right?”his voice is gravely and tone stern. You hummed in response to signal that you do know. You reach out your hand to paw at the empty space of the bed. He huffed and shuffled close to you under the sheets. His big arms wrapped around your waist. His nose softly grazing the nape of your neck. “I love you. You know that right?” He murmured, his breath hitting the back of your ear. “I love you too.” You turn to him and softly kiss his temple. He softly grunts in response,

Falling asleep with you in his arms.

The muscle of the Matsuno Family Mafia jyushimatsu is feared by many. Mainly for his inhuman, unnatural strength and big never changing smile in his face. Usually with the executioner or Second hand man as a body guard. as many others know him for breaking bones with an empty smile on his face accompanied with a thousand yard stare, to you he’s your loving sweet husband. With him you don’t even have to ask. You’ve seen him crush some man’s skull with one hand one night because the skeez slipped a hand up your dress. Jyushimatsu looked to you after and said.”you want ice cream? I know a wonderful place far from here.”

The influence. Like the Strategist, the influence takes care of business with a technological advantage. Todomatsu wipes the social media of there’s identities and crimes. Promotes the family casino and keeps up with events and functions of the family business. While also keeping tabs on rival mafias, mobs, and gangs. Like Osomatsu, ge used to get his own hands dirty when they were starting out. Because of this of this he became well knowledgeable with a gun. You his wife ask him the question when he had the day off. You two spent the whole day spoiling each other in new clothes and window shopping. At nightfall you were both had face masks on and watched brain rotting reality tv. You sometimes still find it hard this guy is a mafia boss when he has a hamster face mask and laughing his ass off at the tv. You felt dumb feeling insecure while comfortable in your lavish blankets and having a cold penguin face mask on. But your just want to know.

“Would you kill for me?”

His eyes that were glued to the television now wide eyed at you, his cackling happy expression immediately gone.

“I’m sorry I ruined the moment-“

You immediately fall back on your words feeling embarrassed.

“No no no you didn’t you just caught me off guard.” He reached for your hand to intertwine your fingers together.

“Did something happened what brought this up?” You love that he cares so much.

“No! Not really. I don’t know really just curious.” You lie like you haven’t thought about this before. Would he get his hands dirty for you? He knows this question was one that was haunting you. Todo moved closer to you and peels your face mask off, the air cold on your face.

“Of course I will my darling.” He says with compassion, though his face mask takes away from the serious moment. You peel off his face mask and kissed him sweetly.

Let’s fucking gooo sorry for taking so long I’m fist fighting a hurricane and college

[flowercrowngods]

in which they lie on the floor and take care of each other, falling in love somewhere along the way between music and silence

🤍 also on ao3

When Eddie makes it to Steve’s a few hours after the others because he sort of got lost in that song he was working on and completely lost track of time when the words finally cooperated with him and the chords, he is not surprised to hear the sound of laughter and chaotic conversation, accompanied with the upbeat pop music Steve likes so much. What does surprise him, though, is the picture presented to him once he reaches the spacious living room.

The group is sitting in a circle on the luxurious sofa and on the plush carpet, talking and laughing and throwing the occasional pillow. So far so normal. What’s decidedly not normal is the fact that Steve is lying a bit away from the group, still included in their circle from the way they’re sitting, and he is absolutely still.

Eddie’s first instinct is to panic because surely Steve is having a flashback, an episode of some sort, maybe he’s been possessed, maybe he—

No. No, the others wouldn’t let that happen, wouldn’t let him lie there like that if it were at all concerning. Eddie tries to calm himself, to breathe away the panic and just be fucking normal.

He catches Dustin watching him and clears his throat, willing an easy expression as he asks, “Hey, uh. What’s up with Harrington?”

“Oh, he’s having floor time,” is what Dustin tells him like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world. Like Eddie is supposed to know what that means.

Except, he does. Sort of.

And now that the panic is gone and he looks closer at Steve, he sees that his eyes are open but not unseeing as he is staring at the ceiling. He looks calm. That crease between his brows his gone and everything about him seems relaxed.

Floor time.

Of all the things Eddie could have imagined learning about Steve fucking Harrington, nail bat swinging national hero and hair care extraordinaire, this wouldn’t even have made the list.

And so, with a careful eye still on the boy starfishing on the white carpet, Eddie goes to sit down beside Dustin.

“So. Floor time, huh?”

The boy gives him a sideways glance and nods. “Yeah, it’s sacred. We used to do that at my place all time, it’s strangely calming. It’s kind of our thing.” And he says that with such pride in his voice, stage whispering like he is letting Eddie in on this huge secret, he can’t even find it in him to tap into that jealousy that always used to accompany every mention of Steve Harrington coming out of Henderson’s mouth.

Eddie bumps their shoulders together gently and promptly joins in on the discussion over whether or not it was boring to choose the human race in Dungeons and Dragons, which then turns into explaining to Jonathan why a paladin and a wizard are not the same, until everything derails completely and there are five discussions at the same time and Eddie is having a wonderful time keeping up with all of them.

All the while, though, he lets his eyes wander back to Steve. To the steady rise and fall of his chest, to his hands where they are still relaxed and twitching, not clenched, knuckles white, bracing to fight for his life.

He does feel oddly protective over the boy who usually does all the protecting, at least in that moment. Part of him wants to cross the distance and lie down beside him. Not to talk, not to touch, just to be there. Just so Steve doesn’t have to be alone.

It’s stupid. Steve’s not alone. He has a house full of his closest friends who let him lie on the floor and don’t ask for his attention until Robin grabs the phone to order some pizza. When Steve is back, he looks… Well, he looks good. He always does, sure, but this time he also looks like he feels good. And Eddie stares a bit before Will and Lucas vie for his attention again.

It does indeed become a Thing, like Dustin told him, because the next few times they’re meeting – sometimes at the Byers’, sometimes at the Wheeler’s, but mostly at Steve’s – Eddie will find him lying on the floor at some point of the evening. Not always quiet and zoned out, sometimes he’s actively participating in whatever conversation is the loudest, sometimes he’s watching with a smile on his lips.

Eddie has stopped watching him. Or at least that’s what he’s trying to tell himself. But Steve is okay, it’s his Thing, there is no need to worry, no need to watch. Even when sometimes Steve needs several tries at finding his words again, Eddie has stopped worrying.

It’s a Steve Thing. And it’s really fucking endearing.

He tries not to watch.

But then one day, after a really rough week and one too many threats directed at him, Eddie just… Doesn’t feel like talking. But he doesn’t feel like being alone, either, his hands still slightly shaking from running into Tommy H and his goons that seem to have missed the memo that high school is over and they can start behaving like adults now.

And so he finds himself standing in front of Harrington’s house, bracing himself for the noise, the questions, the demands, the stories, for all the words he really doesn’t want to say today. It takes him another five minutes to ring the bell.

Robin lets him in, and Eddie feels overwhelmed already, but it’s too late to turn around now, so he swallows and heads inside. His heart sinks further when he finds Steve walking around, joking, chiding. Chasing after El when she steals a cinnamon roll that just came out of the oven. Eddie’s heart sinks and it flutters at the same time, and it is that sensation that makes him crumble.

He lies down on the living room floor and hopes that it’s enough, that he won’t have to explain, that he can just… exist.

The noise around him doesn’t stop, but he finds that he doesn’t need it to, because they leave him alone, don’t try to talk to him, give him time to breathe, to gather himself, to be okay. The world fades a bit, but it doesn’t turn upside down.

Floor time is sacred. And he’s starting to understand why. There’s something oddly calming about feeling the hard floor beneath him, about watching everyone from this angle, about staring at the ceiling with no thoughts in his mind.

And he understands why Steve does this so often. Where his hands have been shaking just moments prior, they are calm now. Where his mind revolved around the Upside Down and Tommy H and run, run, run, now they are quiet. Dulled. Like they can’t rech him, like he is safe here. On the floor.

The only thought that comes to him is that everything would be even better with a weight on his body. And for a moment, he imagines Steve lying down on top of him, to ground him some more. Or Nancy or Robin or Jonathan. Hell, even Eleven would do. Maybe one day. It’s about time they implement cuddle piles into their weekly routine, but Eddie doesn’t feel like opening his mouth and asking for that right about now.

He zones out. Lets the magic of the Sacred Floor wash over him and thinks how that would actually make a fine addition to his campaign. Maybe another riddle for Dustin to decipher.

By the time he hears the music, he feels like a completely new person and it takes him a while for the fog to life enough, but then—No way. His eyes widen and immediately find Steve’s where he’s leaning against the doorway to his right with a gentle, knowing smile on his lips.

“It’s always better with music,” he says, almost sheepish, like he’s worried he maybe crossed a line. “Hot chocolate is coming up right away. Leave it if you don’t want it, Dustin will also drink it cold.” Definitely a smile now, fond this time as Steve’s eyes wander to where Eddie assumes he can find Dustin.

He doesn’t look away from Steve, the expression on his face probably still somewhere between disbelief and wonder. And he’s staring. He knows, because Steve gives him that sheepish smile again and starts to speak after a moment.

“I hope Twisted Sister is okay? I actually quite like this album, but I can go see if I can grab something from that Sabbath band you were talking about, or… Metallica? Something like that. Sorry, uhm. Metal is not really my strong suit, as you may have noticed.” He laughs almost nervously and Eddie just melts.

Steve, worried about his music choice for Eddie’s floor time, which he is absolutely ready and willing to go out of his way for as it seems, laughing and rubbing the back of his neck as We’re Not Gonna Take It starts playing is not what Eddie expected of his day when he woke up this morning.

He might actually have a little crush on the Harrington boy, he realises in that moment, as he smiles up at Steve in a way he hopes is reassuring. It’s perfect, he thinks. Like your stupid hair and your nervous little smile.

Steve seems to understand as he answers with another smile of his own, though all traces of nervousness or worry are gone now, replaced with patience and kindness and understanding. It’s almost too much for Eddie to bear and he looks away.

Moments later, Steve reappears in his line of sight and places a mug of hot chocolate well within his reach but still safe from overly energised teenagers.

Eddie is hesitant about it, but in the end it’s the best hot chocolate he has ever had, not even ruined by the smug grin on Steve’s face that said something along the lines of, ‘I have been babysitting this bunch of teenagers for three years now. I know how to make damn fine hot chocolate and you cannot deny it.’

Eddie just shakes his head in dramatic exasperation and hides his smile in his mug.

Eddie tries not to think too hard about his little crush on Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s probably nothing but a trauma-related attachment anyway, just like he has with all the kids, with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan. It’s nothing. It’s stupid.

But then one night there’s a thunderstorm rolling over Hawkins and everyone’s probably having a shit night, but Eddie? Oh, Eddie is a mess. Every noise is a bat ripping into his flesh, every time he wants to open his mouth he feels like he’s choking on his own blood. He can’t breathe, can’t drink, can’t eat, can’t stop fucking shaking. Pulling his hair has stopped working a while ago, and he wants nothing more than to go over to Steve’s stupid big house and feel safe again.

Before he knows it, he’s in his van waiting in front of Steve’s house, the lights still on, always on, holding his walkie talkie in shaking hands.

“Hey Stevie?” he finally begins, just as a particularly loud crash of thunder makes him gasp, but he bites his lip desperately and braves on. “You there?”

The answer is immediate and it makes Eddie breathe a sigh of relief. “Eds? Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”

It’s past 1:30am, but neither of them are surprised that the other is still awake.

“Yeah,” Eddie laughs, but it’s too shaky to be anything but pathetic. “Sure am. Was just… thinking, y’know.”

A silence follows and Eddie cringes at himself, at his words, at his presence. Why did he think it was a good idea to come over here again without so much as a plan? Oh right, he didn’t think. At all. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Hey, listen, man, do you wanna come over? I mean… Is Wayne home? Stupid thunder, right? I’m… I’m here if you wanna talk, yeah?”

“I don’t wanna talk,” is all Eddie says, his eyes clenched shut as another bolt of lightning lights up the night sky and he counts twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, until he hears that dreadful thunder rolling above.

No, he doesn’t want to talk. What he wants is to just not be alone. To be in the same room, lie on the same floor and share the same air as Steve. The thought of talking while thunder is rolling above them makes his skin crawl, and he deosn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to speak, just wants to— Steve.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, right? Eds? Hang on, is that—Oh Eddie.” Steve sighs, but it’s not exasperated, not annoyed, not angry. It’s fond. Kind. Patient. And Eddie wants to cry.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he just looks at the curtain moving behind the window before Steve spots his van. Eddie lifts his hand and just says, “Surprise?”

And then there’s a bit of static on the other end of the line before Eddie is only met with silence. The sudden moment of complete silence is a stark contrast to, well, everything, and Eddie panics for a moment. But then he sees the front door opening, Steve illuminated by the lights he always keeps on. He looks like an angel, even through the curtain of constant drizzle between them. Eddie’s treacherous insides melt some more when he sees that Steve is coming over with an umbrella in his hand. When he opens the driver’s door with that gentle little smile on his lips and simply offers his arm to Eddie in a gesture so chivalrous that the metalhead cracks a laugh and considers swooning for all but one second before he realizes that his laugh sounded more like a sob of relief.

Gods, but he is a mess.

Whether that is because of the thunderstorm that seems to creep closer and closer, or because he has just compared Stevie to an angel, and now here he is treating him like a gentleman, at ass o’clock, with a look in his eyes like there’s nowhere he would rather be, well. That’s between Eddie and his stupid heart.

Steve leads them inside, shutting and locking the door like he always does before turning back to Eddie. He takes one look at him, enough for Eddie to want to apologise for dropping in like this, but he can’t get the words out before Steve’s already asking, “Metallica or Motörhead?”

And Eddie wants to cry again. Because maybe Steve knows. Maybe he understands.

“Metallica,” he rasps and Steve nods. Smiles. Turns around to head into the kitchen and leaves Eddie where he is, allowing him to follow along or to find his own way, trusting him with that big empty house.

That’s when Eddie realises that he’s never been alone with Steve. Not here, at least. And he kind of wishes that he had come over in a better state, not quite this much of a wreck. But then he wouldn’t have gotten to see the kindness, the patience, the ‘We’re all fucked up here but you’re family so let me take care of you, dammit’-look that Dustin had to suitably dubbed.

Standing in the entry hall, feeling a bit lost and small, Eddie realises that he wants to follow Steve into the kitchen. Wants to stay close, touch him, drape himself over his back and just exist there, in silence and mutual understanding. He doesn’t. But it takes great physical effort to go find his way into the living room instead, sitting down in the white carpet where he had first seen Steve lying on the floor all those weeks ago. He breathes easier now as he runs his hand over the soft, plushy texture and finds himself unwilling to stop. He’s always had a knack for sensory stuff, and touch was by far the most intense, so he splays his palm over the carpet and moves his hands back and forth.

Then the music starts playing and it’s the rather slow first notes of “Fight Fire With Fire” that make Eddie look away from the white plush and back up at Steve, who is standing and watching with a barely-there smile.

The music isn’t very loud, just enough to create a comfortable atmosphere and drown out the rolling thunder. Just for him.

His heart is doing the traitorous shit again where it thinks it’s only beating for Steve Harrington in that moment. He doesn’t have the strength or the will to stop it, though.

And Steve, angel that he is, looking down at him in the dim, warm living room light, puts the two mugs of steaming hot chocolate on the coffee table beside Eddie before promptly sitting down beside him. He meets Eddie’s eyes with all that patience, all that compassion that it gets kind of heavy after a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve murmurs, barely audible over the music, and Eddie just shakes his head. There’s nothing to talk about, just stupid thunder and lightning making his brain feel like it’s being fried and splintering.

“Alright,” Steve whispers and falls back, lying down beside Eddie, who doesn’t have it in him to follow quite yet. His eyes sting. He will not cry in front of Steve fucking Harrington! But then there’s a hand brushing lightly over his back and his voice, so impossibly gentle, telling him, “C’m here, Eds.”

And who is he to deny, to resist, to refuse Steve ‘Kind Eyes’ Harrington?

Eddie slowly lets himself fall backwards, and they just lie there for a while. Not touching, not talking, not moving.

But this time, Eddie’s mind isn’t quiet, because Steve, Steve, Stevie is so close. So gentle. He’s there, he’s here, he understands, and he doesn’t judge. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t question. How can his mind be quiet when Steve is perfect?

How can his mind be quiet when his heart is racing as he slowly, achingly slowly like they do in the stupid movies Nancy loves to watch, moves his hand closer to Steve’s. He’s powerless against the pull of the boy beside him. His heart is beating in his throat when Steve meets his hand halfway, wrapping his pointer finger around Eddie’s pinkie. Their feet find their way to each other, just resting there, basking in each other’s warmth.

He is weak when his head lands on Steve’s shoulder. His eyes close and he breathes — quietly, shallowly, for fear of breaking the moment.

He doesn’t break it. In fact, the moment lasts far longer than the record Steve had put on – because of course he had to play a Metallica record instead of a cassette like normal people would –, and then it is quiet. The soft lights fill the room with warm, indirect safety and finally help his mind quiet down.

Of course, the realisation that he’s maybe a little bit in love with Steve Harrington had to be a quiet one. Soft, gentle, kind, and definitely far from what he ever would have expected. Just like Steve himself.

Of course, where everything else in Eddie’s life was loud — from his music to his kids to the thoughts in his head when he can’t sleep at night —, this one had to be different. Quiet. And when Steve begins to draw patterns into his back where Eddie is now essentially lying on top of him, Eddie dares once more to reach for Steve’s unoccupied hand, tangling their fingers. Not to hold him, because Steve isn’t going anywhere, but simply to touch.

Steve understands, Eddie realises, because he brushes his lips over his temple and then leaves them there. Not to kiss, not really, but simply to touch.

And while Eddie’s heart is busy feeling like it’s going to burst from these sudden realisations, from how quiet and how safe he feels, from how utterly, indescribably right this feels, Eddie just closes his eyes and accepts the fact that he is actually, absolutely, irrefutably and completely in love with Steve ‘Floor Time’ Harrington.

[pumpkinheadspacestation]

Back with another age guide post! Feel free to check out my other posts! I'll be making age guides all the way up to 13!

Intro to the age guide posts

One year age guide

Two years

Three years

I'd also like to just add in here, the goal of these posts is to help regressors find their regressed age(s) and to help caregivers help their baby when they are regressed to that age. I'd also like to add in that even if you regress to a certain age, you may not identify with every trait, like or dislike that this post has listed because regression is very individualized and each and every baby is different.

Now on to the post!

Agere Age Guide

4 years edition

Traits and Behaviors

☠︎︎ These cuties are learning how to count up to ten and learning how to tell stories and also recall certain parts of stories, they can also how confidently recall and identify certain things they want, most of the time these babies can also string together a coherent sentence "I want to read Goldie locks and the three bears for bedtime"

☠︎︎ You've made it past the terrible twos and threatening threes! These tots should be better at sharing, taking turns and following the rules of simple games. These tykes also enjoy the company of friends a lot more than they have before the fours, they love to chat and okay with babies their age

☠︎︎ Toddlers this age are starting to develope their own personality, they start to have a sense of humor, they become increasingly independent and they love to brag and show off what they can do

☠︎︎ As far as baby babbles go, that should be in the past for these fours, they're starting to tell longer stories and their pronunciation of words should be 100% clear and not just to mama or dada

☠︎︎ Running, jumping and playing are all exciting things for these little ones! They love to jump around and play catch and they're better at it than ever before. Be prepared to chase these babies around the house because they are filled with energy and they have some to spare

☠︎︎ Along with these new and exciting developments, you have to keep in mind that these tots are still toddlers and now that they have more complex personalities, you may start seeing more complex behavior. You're still going to see tantrums and defiance, these babies are still learning how to cope and feel their feelings.

☠︎︎ These tots are fully potty trained and have been for a little while! They no longer need help on the potty and can do it all on their own. Along with this, they can pick out their own outfits, and dress themselves

Activities!

These teeny tykes can play lots of different games but now is the time to spark imaginative and creative play! They love lots of imagination and creative activities, follow the lost bellow to find an activity you or your baby will love

☠︎︎Dress up! Dress up is a great way to let your tot express themself, they get to try crazy new styles and costumes they don't get to try that often, this is a great way for your tot to get creative, missing and matching makeup looks and clothing to make costume is an activity packed with fun

☠︎︎Dance and Sing! Write and perform songs on your pretend stage with your tiny tot, let them sing and dance their heart out, pretend to be a famous singer who's touring the world or get a little crazier and pretend to be an astronaut performing for aliens! Either way, this'll be a fun activity for any rocker baby out there

☠︎︎Craft time! Preschool crafts are easy to look up and find, drive your baby to the nearest craft store and pick out some supplies, fancy paper, tiny pompoms, popsicle sticks, markers, and crayons, then, have a blast with it! See what silly crafts you and your baby can make, you'll have to put the amazing craft they did up on the fridge to show how talented they are!

☠︎︎Imaginative play is peek fun for tots in there fours so toys like barbies, calico critters, action figures, ponies, doll houses, shopkins, lol dolls, baby dolls and much more are all super fun toys for a growing imagination, they can out their toys in a bunch of different scenarios and play it out. It's their own little world and it'll be tons of fun for them to let their imagination run wild!

☠︎︎As stated earlier, these tots can play just about any game and it's time to experiment! These babies are forming their own preferences and individuality so getting them to try and have positive experiences with lots of different activities and games is super important, take them swimming, play catch, play rock star, and barbies, and dinosaurs and sharks, play trains and have crafting time, out together puzzles and cook together! Anything you can imagine, they have space for in their heart

Food!

☠︎︎The palate of a four year old is simple and you don't want to overwhelm them with too strong or too many flavors. A simple grilled cheese or ham sandwich will do and they'll eat it happily. It's hard to make three meals a day for tots and so you don't want to make a four course meal and you don't have too. These babies are happy with oatmeal and cereal, they like gold fish and pop tarts as snacks, give them some carrots and ranch and they'll be a happy baby.

Dinner time foods may get a bit more complicated but dishes like meatloaf and pasta are great choices for babies in their fours. Cook up some cheesey spaghetti and these babies will be happy

As far as sitting down three times a day to eat a full meal, that might be the hard part, so instead of forcing a small to sit three times a day for an hour or more, try offering small snacks throughout the day and serving smaller meal portions, this makes everyone happy because your baby doesn't have to sit down as long, mama/dada doesn't have to cook big meals and you're both fed

Shows and Movies!

Shows and movies that interest these tots are very individualized so you may want to ask your baby what their favorite shows and movies are but even with that being said, I'll still list some shows they may enjoy.

These tots fall into the same category as the twos and threes, they still enjoy bubbly, easy to follow cartoony characters, they also enjoy somewhat educational shows and movies at this age, their brain is super curious and wanting to soak up information like a sponge so try putting one of these shows on for your tiny tyke:

☠︎︎Octonauts

☠︎︎Doc mcstuffins

☠︎︎Story bots

☠︎︎Sid the science kid

☠︎︎Bluey

☠︎︎Word World

☠︎︎Daniel Tiger

☠︎︎Blippi

☠︎︎Bubble Guppies

☠︎︎Curious George

These aren't all the shows you could put on for you tiny tot, just a short list and a quick goggle search or scroll through your favorite streaming app, you can find a bunch of tiny shows for your tiny to watch!

Boundaries and Safeties

Now that all the fun stuff has been said, it's time to talk about the most important thing, knowing your babies boundaries before they fall into a headspace around you. Your main goal is to keep them happy and healthy and Safe so talk to them about what they like and what they don't Prior to them getting into baby space around you. Care giving is exciting but only when we're helping Not when we're harming.

Be open to listening if your baby has an issue or a need that's not being listened to or met. Your regressor is not attacking you when they talk about their needs, they're feeling hurt or neglected, they tell you about it because they Want to make your relationship work not because they're trying to hurt you.

That concludes this post! I hope this was helpful to any caregivers out there or heck even any age regressors trying to find where they fall on the age spectrum. Thank you for supporting my blog and reading my post!

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 7: My House of Stone...

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: sorry this took so long i got such bad writers block Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay Chapter List

When Arthur didn’t show up after a few days, you tried to not let it get to you. He was a busy man, no doubt even more busy because of the job involving your husband. You ignored the fact that he proved that he would fight everything to come and see you, consequences be damned. It was almost out of character that he hadn’t come to see you, or had reached out to you in some way.

When a few more days passed with no sign of the outlaw, you found yourself going back over your last encounter, when he had taken you out on Bear. You don’t recall any hesitancy or doubt in his eyes when he was with you, or maybe you were too blind with your own desire to see it. That thought made you reel, panicking that you made him uncomfortable and scared him off. 

But you didn’t let that thought fester for too long. You spent your days doing menial tasks with no real passion, trying to just pass the time. It worked, mostly, but you were getting antsy. How you wished you had an easy way to leave the prison that had become the house. 

Even more days passed, each day becoming more and more anxiety ridden. Instead of worrying that you’d scared him off now, you were worried that he was dead, or in shackles, about to be hung up in the town square. Your nights were becoming restless, images of his dead body haunting you when you closed your eyes. You’d wake with bloodshot eyes, even more tired than you were when you went to bed. 

You eventually stopped counting the days, not wanting to know how long he’d been gone for. You tried to spend more and more time outside of the house, bringing blankets and books from Hans’ office to your garden, waiting to escape the confinement of the walls around you. It helped, for a bit, yet you still found your mind wandering, constantly worrying about Arthur. 

But no matter how hard you tried, you found that you couldn’t hate the man. Upset, sure, angry, definitely, but not hateful. No, your heart wouldn’t allow it. You were still in love with him, and the lack of contact from him was hurting you, both physically and mentally. It was hard to eat, hard to sleep, hard to find it in yourself to take care of your body. You knew it was ridiculous, but you couldn’t help it. He had wormed his way into your very being, and left a hole that couldn’t be fixed. You just hoped that he’d return soon and make you feel whole again. 

It was during this time that you decided to draft a letter to your family, hoping that it would alleviate the loneliness that was once removed by Arthur. You sat in Hans’ office, pen shaking in your hand as you stared at the blank piece of paper in front of you, the task proving to be more difficult than you imagined. It had been two years since you’d last spoken to them, and you had no idea what to say. How much was too much? How honest was too honest?

You decided to keep it simple, and you began to write. It took a few tries, but you eventually produced a letter that you were satisfied with. 

My dear family, 

I have missed you all, incredibly so. Words don’t even begin to do it justice. I apologize for not reaching out earlier, but my circumstances wouldn’t allow it. I do so hope to hear back from you, and perhaps have the pleasure of seeing each other in the flesh soon. 

Your daughter,

You finished it with your name, but just your first name. Tucking it into an envelope, you addressed it with the address Arthur had provided you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat when you saw Arthur’s handwriting, rereading the note he left you.

Making sure to leave the office as you found it, you made your way downstairs, setting the letter on the kitchen table, ready to grab for whenever you decided to go into town. You spent a few days at home after writing the letter, hoping that one night you’d hear the familiar hoofbeats of Bear, but were left disappointed each night. 

Eventually, though, you needed to leave, if just for a short bit of time. It had been roughly three weeks since you’d last left the house, and if you had to look at the same things again you were going to snap, leaving the house as a pile of ash. So, with a small purse with some cash, you took the letter and yourself and left. 

If it weren't for your current mindset, the walk to the main road would’ve been relaxing, enjoying the noises of animals and the cool breeze against your skin. But everything is annoying you now. The wind was causing your hair to blow in your face, and if you had to hear that birdsong one more time, you were going to lose it. Or maybe you’d already lost it. 

The sun blinded you as you left the shade of the thick forest, stepping out onto the main road. You always hated doing this, but you were desperate. Slowly, you began to walk towards Rhodes, keeping a close ear for any riders. 

It took a few minutes, but you eventually heard someone approaching from behind, and you perked up, putting on your friendliest face as you stopped and turned. It was a carriage, and you began to wave them down, but they ignored you, not even bothering to glance in your direction. Rude.

Still, you kept on, not letting one bad interaction deter you. A few more carriages and wagons passed, with similar responses. Everyone looked grim, you noticed, stone-faced and somber expressions. Now you were starting to feel dejected, and you debated just heading back to the house; you weren’t that far anyway. 

Before you could come to a decision, a single rider passed you, glancing at you even though you didn’t wave him down. Something like recognition flashed across his face, even though you’d never seen this man in your life. He had longer, black-brown hair that was tied into a small ponytail, with a mustache and goatee, and a bowler hat protecting his tanned skin. He had a blue denim jacket on, with a red handkerchief around his neck, and you noted that he was surprisingly well dressed for being an alone traveler on the road. 

“Mrs. Kerrigan?” He asked, almost in disbelief, like you were a creature from folklore, pulling his gray and white horse to a halt beside you. 

You braced yourself, ready to bolt as you stared at the man. “Yes?” You asked, suspicious. It wasn’t uncommon for people to recognize who you were, but they’d never acted like they knew you personally. You dove into the deep recess of your brain trying to remember who he was, but drawing a blank; he was a stranger to you.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned, which was a tad bit off putting from a complete stranger. Still, you couldn't detect any malicious intent in his words.

Sighing, you answered truthfully. “I’m tryin’ to get to Rhodes. You… you don’t happen to be goin’ there, do you?”

“Unfortunately, no,” he answered, truly sounding regretful, but then his face turned thoughtful. 

“Ah. No worries then. Have a good day.” 

You tried to continue moving, but his smooth voice made you halt again. “But it’s close enough. I can only bring you to the outskirts, though.”

“You’d do that?” You smiled when he nodded. “I can pay, too. Thank you, Mr…?”

“Escuella. But you can call me Javier.” He extended a hand to you, helping you on to the back of his horse. You sat sidesaddle, keeping an appropriate amount of distance between your bodies, your hands resting on his sides.

Javier. You remember Arthur telling you about someone with the same name, and although you highly doubted that this was the same Javier, you wished that he had a drawing of him. “Thank you, Javier.”

“Of course, Mrs. Kerrigan.” Javier gestured his horse forward, setting an easygoing pace; not too fast, not too slow. A small pang hit your heart as you remembered the last time you were on a horse, your body pressed up to Arthur’s, his rough voice in your ears, the playful glint in his eye. God, you missed him. 

“I’ll pay you when we get to town,” you repeated after a few minutes of riding, and you felt Javier chuckle. 

“I appreciate it, but I think Arthur would kill me.” Your blood ran cold, and your heart began to race just at the mention of him. So this was Javier, the one Arthur traveled with in the mountains to rescue John. It makes sense then, why he seemed to recognize you.

“Well, it’s nice to put a face to a name,” you commented. 

“He’s talked about me, then?”

“All good things,” you reassured, and he just shook his head, not believing you. You desperately wanted to ask him about Arthur, if he was alive or not, but you weren’t sure if any answer he gave you would hurt less. “Does… does he talk about me?”

Javier snorted. “Yes and no. He’ll talk about you, sometimes so much that we want to kill him, but then refuses to answer any of our questions. Some of us even doubted your existence,” he laughed, “but I’m glad to see that we’re wrong. You’ve made him real happy. I haven’t seen him this… optimistic in a long time.”

You were glad he was facing forward, so he couldn’t see the way those words broke you. Biting back tears, you kept your voice steady. “How is Arthur?”

“He’s fine?” He responded, very clearly confused as to why you didn’t know. “He’s been, well, ‘helping’ your husband.”

Oh. “So the names he got led to somethin’?” 

“Sure did. We were able to track down suppliers, and disrupt his business there. He’s yet to reach out for help, but Dutch doesn’t think it’ll be long now.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” You weren’t lying. “But he’s well?” You couldn’t help but ask about him again. 

“Yes. It’s been a crazy couple of days, but we’re pulling through.”

Only a couple of days. You refrained from asking what he’d gotten up to earlier, not wanting to appear desperate, even if you were. “I’m glad. And don’t make me regret saying this, but if anyone ever needs a place to lie low for a bit, point ‘em towards my house. At least when my husband isn’t there.” Even though you’d barely met any of the members, you couldn’t help but feel protective over the gang because of how deeply Arthur cared about them. If there was anything you could do to help them, you would.

“I’ll be sure to let them know. Thank you.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Arthur was right about you; you’re too kind for this world.”

You murmured a small thanks, and the two of you fell into an easy silence for the rest of the ride. When the familiar outskirts of Rhodes appeared, you felt Javier begin to grow nervous, his head moving back and forth, like he was on the lookout for something. “We can stop here,” you said once you reached a long abandoned house, the yellow paint chipping and peeling. 

Red dust kicked up when your feet hit the ground, and you quickly took out a few bills, handing them to Javier. “Again, I can’t take this,” he held up a hand, a small smile on his face.

“I ain’t payin’ you for the ride, though. I payin’ you to deliver a message to Arthur,” you countered, but he didn’t relent. Sighing, you tucked them into the saddlebags before facing him with your hands on your hips. “Tell him to come see me. Please.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know. Do you have a ride back home?”

“I can arrange something’. Now go; you look uncomfortable just being here.”

He chuckled, not disagreeing with you. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kerrigan.”

“You too, Javier. Stay safe.”

He nodded, smiling kindly at you before turning, taking off back down the road you’d just been on. Turning toward the town, you began to make your way to the center of town, right to the post office in the railroad station.

It was eerily quiet, more like a ghost town than anything. There wasn’t a single soul lingering on the porches or the street, and the shutters of most of the buildings were shut, which was extremely unusual for the middle of the day on a weekday. There weren’t even any animals out; it was just you and the dust. 

After a few tense minutes of walking, you eventually climbed the stairs of the railroad station, the creak of the old wood almost making you jump. It was just as empty on the inside as it was outside, the other person in the building, the person behind the counter, who smiled tensely as you entered. 

“Good afternoon, missus,” he exclaimed, the chip in his voice far too forced. “Say, can’t say I’ve seen you ‘round here before.”

“You’ve probably met my husband, Mr. Kerrigan,” you responded, making your way to the counter, pulling the letter from your bag. 

“Ah yes. Well, how can I help you, Mrs. Kerrigan?”

You slid the letter across to him. “I’d like to send this, please.”

“Not a problem at all. That’ll be five cents.”

Sliding him a nickel from your bag, you looked around as he stamped the letter, putting it in the appropriate mailbox. “Is there anythin’ else I can help you with?”

“Why is it so… dead?” You glanced back at the man, who had visibly paled at your question. 

“Interesting choice of words, ma’am. Let’s just say we had an… incident yesterday. Nothing befitting a proper lady like yourself.” He explained, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

Ominous. Realizing you weren’t going to get far with him, you wished him a good day before leaving. You made your way to the general store; Mr. Banks would let you know. 

The bell chimed as you entered, and you called out for the older gentleman, and you heard the sound of crashing from the back room, clearly scaring the poor man. A disheveled Mr. Banks peeked around the corner, visibly relaxing when he saw it was just you. You opened your mouth to try and apologize, but he cut you off. “You didn't bring that ‘deputy’ with ya, did you?” He asked, growing tense again.

“Arthur? No, he’s not with me.”

“Good. I’ll kill him on sight if he even dares to step foot in Rhodes again. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Physically, no. “Mr. Banks, what in the world-”

“Him and his buddies shot up the town yesterday. Killed the good Leigh Gray, Lord bless his soul,” he shuddered, and you halted in your tracks, your somewhat amused smile at his ramblings falling. 

“What?”

He pointed to a newspaper on the counter, and you cautiously stepped toward it. Bloodthirsty Gang Kills Dozens was the headline, a few paragraphs of text following below it. Your head spun at the new information, blocking out the words of Mr. Banks. You couldn’t gauge what you were feeling; you weren’t disgusted, or revolted, even though you knew you should be. You weren’t surprised; you knew that Arthur had done things, unspeakable things, and would continue to do so. You weren’t angry at what he did, but you were angry at him for putting himself in harm’s way like that. 

“I’ll take the paper,” you cut Mr. Banks off, sliding him a few bills, and he slid the paper to you. You barely mumbled out a ‘good day’ before you left, nose deep in the paper as you headed back to the railroad station, sitting on the bench waiting for the carriage services, and you read as you waited. 

You read all about the way the gang played both families, something you had no idea was happening. You weren’t hurt that he didn’t tell you; you knew that some things had to remain secrets. But you didn’t care much about the detail, eyes scanning for any telling of death or injury to the Van Der Linde gang. You knew that Javier probably didn’t lie to you, but you still needed to be sure. 

Your heart dropped when you saw that there was indeed one confirmed killing of a member of the Van Der Linde gang, but you didn’t recognize the description they provided. The others, it seemed, were still at large, and unhurt. Knowing how deeply Arthur cared about each member of the gang, you knew that this death was probably weighing heavily on him. If only he would come and see you, just so you could help him.

The sound of a carriage approaching had you standing, tucking the paper under your arm. Getting in, you directed the driver to your house, and you quickie got lulled into the rocking rhythm of the vehicle. You ignored the paper under your arm, even though it felt like a million pounds.

The ride felt like forever, but eventually you pulled into the familiar forested area of Ringneck Creek. The driver helped you out, and after you paid him you headed inside, feeling like you were just going through the motions. Despite everything you’d learned, there was one thing that really bothered you. The shootout had only been yesterday; what had stopped him from seeing you during the previous three weeks?

Even though it wasn’t late, you found yourself getting ready for bed anyway, keeping the paper on the table downstairs and grabbing a book from Hans' office before curling beneath the sheets. Your eyes skimmed the words, not processing them, your brain too distracted by today’s events.

You weren’t quite sure how you “read” for, but you must’ve fallen asleep at some point. A loud noise, like a door being slammed, had you bolting upright, pulled out of your uneasy slumber, the book luckily not hitting the ground. When you didn’t hear anything for a few moments, you thought you had just imagined it, and you went to try and go back to bed. 

That was until you heard the sound of heavy footfalls. Shit. Tearing off the covers, you padded lightly across the wooden floor, wishing that Hans wasn’t so opposed to keeping guns in the house. You had nothing to defend yourself with, so kept to the shadows as you left the room. 

Reaching the top of the stairs, you flinched when you saw the shadow of a man making its way toward the stairs. You began to back away, back into the safety of your room, until you recognized the familiar silhouette of the man. Don’t tell me…

Cautiously, you made your way downstairs, barely making a noise. You had to stifle a gasp once you reached the bottom, your suspicions confirmed when you saw Arthur standing in your dining room, back to you, glancing over the newspaper you’d set on the table. His hair was longer, his clothing unkempt, but it was still the same man you had fallen for.

Too many emotions ran through you, from anger to longing to desire to sadness. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to kiss him or punch him in the face, and so you just stood at the bottom of the stairs, shocked. 

Eventually, Arthur turned, the only sign of him being startled was his eyes widening. Those beautiful blue eyes that had haunted your thoughts, that you longed to see again. You let out a small gasp then, audible only to you. It was really hard to remain still, every fiber of your being craving to be in his arms again, to feel his lips on yours. 

Neither of you knew what to say, just staring at each other. Even in the low light, you could see that Arthur looked exhausted, bags under his eyes and his shoulders sagging. Being on the run would do that to a man. “So Javier wasn’t kiddin’. You’re alive.” You didn’t care that your voice was scathing. 

Javier must’ve said something to him, because Arthur didn’t seem surprised that you mentioned the other man. If you ever met him again, you’d have to thank him for sticking to his word about delivering a message. “I…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, “I’ll leave.” Oh, how you missed his rugged voice. 

Arthur turned to head back out the front door. “Stay. Please.” You called out, making your voice softer, stopping him in his tracks. Don’t leave me again. 

He took a deep breath before turning back around, somethin like guilt on his features. “It’s been three weeks, Arthur.” You sighed out.

“I know, darlin’.” You nearly broke then, his name for you crumbling your resolve. Yet you held, fingers gripping the railing with a death grip. “There was an… incident-”

“The shootout in town,” you cut him off. “Don’t sugarcoat things. I know what you get up to. I know the things you’ve done.”

Arthur didn’t bother to try to disagree, and you were thankful for that. “After the shootout in Rhodes, I couldn’t risk comin’ over to see ya’.”

“I understand, but that was only a few days ago. Arthur, it's been three weeks.” You didn’t bother to hide the pain in your voice. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.”

“Then where’ve you been?” He didn’t respond, and you laughed bitterly. “I thought you were dead, Arthur. Or you were about to be strung up in the gallows. Or you… I was worried sick, and the only reason I knew you weren’t dead was because Javier told me.”

“I’m sorry-”

“I don’t want your apology, I want an explanation.” You let go of the railing. “Why?” Arthur hung his head, and you began to step towards him. 

“You deserve somethin’ better, darlin’.”

“And you thought the best thing for me was to leave me alone and heartbroken. And who is this ‘someone better’ I deserve? Hans? No, I don’t think so.”

“I ain’t much better! You said it yourself, you know the things I’ve done. I’ve killed people, so many I’ve lost track. Hell, I was the one who killed Sheriff Gray. My whole life I’ve tricked and duped and betrayed people; I ain’t a good man’. You’re too sweet, too kind. You deserve somethin’ better than that, than me.”

“You think I didn’t know that you’ve hurt people, Arthur? You didn’t think when you said you were an outlaw that I wouldn’t, I don’t know, realize you’ve done some unlawful things? I know what kind of man you are, and who you claim to be, yet when I think of you I think of a man that is also good, generous, sweet.” You continued to move towards him, even as he shook his head. 

“A man that would come check up on a sad woman in the woods just ‘cause she asked, that would find her family’s address so she could write to them.” You were close enough to him that you could reach out and touch him.

“A man that’s made my miserable existence feel worthwhile, that has become the best goddamn part of my life.” His hands were shaking, you found when you took one of them in both of yours. Those familiar calloused fingers were oh so comforting, and you brought them close to your heart.

You took a deep breath. “A man that I’ve completely fallen in love with.”

His hands stopped shaking, or maybe yours were. You couldn’t tell. 

Arthur was speechless, but you could tell that he didn’t oppose your confession, because he pulled you closer. His free hand cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek. “You shouldn’t…”

“Too late now, Arthur.” You breathed out. “I… I love you.”

“You shouldn’t.” He repeated again with more edge, but you could see how conflicted he was. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from it.”

“How can you be so certain?” 

“Because every damn good thing in my life gets ruined. Every person I lo- care ‘bout, I make their lives worse, and they regret ever openin’ their hearts to me. Did ya know I almost married a girl, then I ruined that. I- I had a kid,” his voice grew thick with emotion, “and he’s no longer with us. All because of me, and the life I lead. All because wherever I go, someone’ll be huntin’ down the people I care about, no matter how innocent they are. I couldn’t live with myself if somethin’ happened to you ‘cause of me.”

Oh. You were speechless now, and your heart ached for the man in front of you. “Arthur… I can’t guarantee that somethin’ won’t happen to me, but do you really wanna live your life in fear, pushing away those who care about you?”

“I can’t lose you, darlin’. I can’t.” 

“But you almost did, pushin’ me away like that. What then?”

“I…” he took a shaky breath, his hand sliding down to hold the side of your neck gently. “I don’t know.”

“So don’t push me away. Yes, it’s terrifying, caring about someone like this. You don’t think I worry ‘bout you every time you’re not here? That I don’t worry that we’ll be found out, and this whole thing will come burning down around us? But isn’t it worth it? ”

He sighed, before resting his head against yours, his hat sliding back a bit. “It is.”

“Then mean it. To yourself. To me.” His lips were so close now, and you wanted nothing more than to close the space between them. You let go of his hand, choosing to rest your hands on his chest instead. You could feel his heart beating rapidly under your fingers, just as fast as yours was. “I love you, Arthur, and there isn’t a damn thing you can say that’ll change that.”

Arthur exhaled shakily, and even in the dim light you could see a small smile on his lips. “And I’m grateful for your stubbornness.” You chuckled lightly at his words. “I’ve been a fool-”

“None of that. You ain’t a fool, Arthur.”

“Maybe not. But I’m a fool for you.” You rolled your eyes at his cheesy comment, knees growing weak at the now grin on his face. That dazzling, beautiful grin. But his expression sobered, and you temporarily feared the worst. “You should know that I do feel the same, darlin’. I really do. It’s just, I can’t…”

“You can’t say it back,” you refrained from sounding too crestfallen. You could be content with the fact that he agreed he felt the same. For now. He shook his head, looking ashamed, and you forced his gaze back up to yours when he tried to look away. “Then show me. Show me that you love me.”

“I could spend every last minute of my life showin’ you, and it still wouldn’t be enough time,” he chuckled, his thumb brushing just below your bottom lip. His eyes followed the movement, and something darkened in them. “But I can certainly try.”

He leaned in, finally closing the distance, and you felt like you could cry with relief. His lips felt even better than you remembered, more desperate than you’d ever felt them. You dropped his hand, arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to kiss you, his hat falling to the ground as you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled away far too soon for your liking, the hand still holding your face brushing your cheek. “Darlin’, you’re cryin’,” he murmured, his brow creasing with concern. 

“Good tears,” you laughed, a genuine smile gracing your lips. “I just missed you, so much.”

Another flash of guilt appeared on his face. “You promise?”

“Promise.” He regarded you for a few moments, and you nearly pulled him back down yourself, desperate to feel his lips again. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait too long, because he was kissing you again, weeks of pent up longing, fear, and love being poured into it. It made you dizzy, and your fingers tangled further into his hair, eliciting a groan from the man. 

Arthur’s free hand gripped your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he kissed you. They gripped even harder when you ran your tongue against his lips, not expecting you to take control of the kiss. He willingly let his lips part, letting you explore him with ease. 

You hadn’t even realized Arthur had moved until you felt your back hit a wall, the back of your head cradled by his hand. It made you groan, breaking away from the kiss, and Arthur wasted no time trialing his lips down your neck. Your head rolled back, letting out pleased sighs and light moans as he littered kisses across your neck, his facial hair ticking the sensitive skin.

“Arthur,” you groaned, hands still in his hair, and you felt him hum in response. 

“My beautiful girl,” you heard him mutter, more to himself than anything, and you were grateful for the stability the wall provided. The hand on your waist moved down, securing under your thigh and lifting it so that your leg wrapped around him. You inadvertently began to rock your hips, eliciting another delicious groan from Arthur.

“God, Arthur, I need you.” You didn’t care if you were pleading. You’d been plenty patient; you were allowed to be greedy. 

“I’m takin’ my time with ya. We’ve got all night.”

Another groan tore from your throat. All night. “You promise?” You asked, echoing his previous words. If he was promising all night, then you could be patient for a little while longer.

You felt him grin against your skin, nipping lightly at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Promise.”

Author's Note: surprise javier appearance bam!

[restinslices]

Could you do the Earthrealm champions being invited by GN!reader to dance with them in a video?

If you need song ideas for this request, I got you covered:

Bet y’all ain’t know I like K-pop. Expect the unexpected. My internet is being dumb asf and I cannot add gifs so you’re getting dumb pictures I found on Pinterest

Johnny Cage

“I’m a star sweetheart, I don’t have time for silly videos”

*Proceeds to dance with passion*

Johnny cannot take shit seriously so if you think he’d be too proud to do a little dance for a video, you’re smoking 

He probably wears something way over the top for the video as if he’s actually performing for a crowd 

I don’t think Johnny is a natural dancer but he makes do. He probably practices to make sure he doesn’t look stupid and you’ll have to record the video multiple times until he’s satisfied 

“I don’t like that one or that one or that one or-” “I’m gonna find a new partner. Oh my gosh”

Honestly I think he has more fun than you

“I think I should add ‘dancer’ to my lists of talents”

He probably asks to do it again

Idk if I see Johnny being into K-pop but the interest would start here and spiral 

I also feel like he enjoys dances from girl groups more than boy groups. I once again don’t know why I think this way but it makes sense in my head 

Likes more simple dances. It keeps the focus on his pretty face and outfits 

“I think I’d be fantastic in a girl group” “Ok Johnny”

It’s giving “nurse! He’s out again!”

He has a new hyperfixation now. I hope you’re proud of yourself 

Favorite thing to dance to is Cupid by Fifty Fifty 

Kenshi Takahashi 

Only does it because you asked him to, and even then he doesn’t really want to 

He doesn’t hate dancing but he just doesn’t do it 

Considering he escaped from the Yakuza, him being in a video with you isn’t the best idea. You can call him paranoid. He calls himself careful. 

When he finally agrees, he's wearing the most obnoxious get up; hoodie, sweatpants, a hat, glasses, a mask and gloves. It's so no one can know who he is, but who in the Yakuza is randomly watching dance videos?

He won't change his mind though and wears it all.

You have to do an easy dance otherwise he'll sweat himself to death 

I don't see him going out of his way to do it again. It was alright to him. He's not big on dancing so learning a dance then doing it wasn't the best way to spend his time. Also he was extremely sweaty so he's not tryna do it again 

He will if you ask, but he won't bring it up first 

He's trying to not be noticed but people can't help but notice him 

I feel like he favors boy groups only slightly. Favorite thing to dance to is Still 24K by 24K but only the chorus because once again, sweat and heat. And YES I picked 24K because I'm never letting their name die. I miss them 

Kung Lao

“I have better things to do, like training new recruits at the Academy” “If you're too scared of me dancing better than you, just say that”

He learns the dance that night 

He's competitive so what's supposed to be a sweet couples thing, turns serious 

Wants to do a hard dance just to prove how great he is even if it's stupid 

Legit is angrily typing “hard kpop dances” and picking one at random 

He has you ask the audience to comment who danced better or do a poll

If he wins, he's ecstatic and wants to continue showing off. If he loses, he's bitter. The vote was rigged. Real “Stop the count!” type shit 

If he loses he wants to do it again so he can do better. He legit can't let it go. The problem is he keeps diving into hard ass dances and refuses to start simple 

You have to pry his hands off the keyboard and help him pick something simple 

Once he stops being stubborn then you two can actually have fun. Dancing can become a regular thing, but he's gonna keep making it a challenge 

In his eyes, he always wins 

Idk if he has a preference for boy or girl groups. I'll say his favorite thing to dance to is Monster by Exo because I feel like he'd want to do Chanyeol's jump 

Raiden

I think he'd be shy at first. Super Shy if you will 

He doesn't wanna fuck it up, yk? After being told it's not that deep and it's just for fun, he agrees 

Besides Johnny, he's probably having the most fun. I feel like he enjoys spending time with the people he cares about and this is doing just that 

Wants to do it again because it's spending time with you and it makes you happy 

Before I even end this, he's a girl group stan and I'm standing on it

Idk why but I think he'd like 4Minute and I'm not changing my mind. He'd be bummed they're not together anymore 

Honestly, his favorite groups have probably all disbanded or are on hiatus. He's not having a good time 

“I like 4Minute” “disbanded” “2NE1?” “disbanded” “Miss A?” “disbanded” “CLC?” “I don't think they're disbanded but they're doing their own thing” “I hate my life”

I just feel like he'd have bad luck 

Dancing becomes a new hobby though. He can't always be getting rid of threats. 

Mainly does it with you 

His favorite thing to dance to is Whatcha Doin’ Today by 4Minute. Honestly I can see that being his favorite song which is a real shame cause I think his favorite would be Jihyun and she got like, one line (I'm projecting)

Liu Kang 

Big problem with your plan. He has glowing eyes and shades hardly dull them. How's he gonna hide that? 

With TWO pairs of shades of course 

I think he'd be reluctant to make the video because his existence isn't supposed to be known by random people 

He'd be willing to dance with you alone, he's just not sure about the video and he won't be sure until you come up with a good idea that'll get rid of that problem 

You can post it on your close friends though. They make sense 

I feel like he'd like dancing to some random ass unknown group from the 80s or 90s. Who even are these people?

He did watch as civilization grew so he's seen tons of groups form and disband so I guess it's not surprising he knows smaller groups. 

Idk if he'd have a preference for boy groups or girl groups. If it's good music, it's good music 

I don't think it'd become a new hobby for him. He's not reluctant about it like Kenshi, it just doesn't interest him as much as you'd like 

He makes it known he's doing this for you. Not in an asshole way, but in a “I really like when you're happy” type of way 

I'm NOT looking up old ass groups just for this so imma say his favorite thing to dance to is Kard in general. Why? Idk. I’m spreading an agenda

I wanna write more MK1 intros but I’m brain empty. I’m miserable This was also short. My bad anon. Everyone has around 230 words

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Peaceful Sleep

AU Reverse Therapy

Previous Part: New Home, Next Part: Tenderness

Summary: The captive gets used to her new life.

Pairing: Chaos!Lamenter/fem!OC/Chaos!Flesh Tearer

Characters: Malina (fem!OC), Luka The Angel (OC Chaos Lamenter), Virgil (OC Chaos Flesh Tearer)

Warnings: yandere, violence, hint of somnophilia, forced Stockholm syndrome

Word count: 2561

Author's note: It was quite sad to write this part because I love this girl very much. But the first weeks must have been a nightmare for her.

Song: London After Midnight - Demon

Tag List: @kit-williams, @druidwolf21

Her parents once told her that there is always a way out everywhere. A person can get used to any environment and place. The main thing is not to give up and keep going until the end. Some people like the role of a warrior. But most must accept their passive role and obey. And endure.

Once their house burned to the ground along with other buildings in the local area. But unlike other families, they were lucky. They were sheltered for a while by an uncle before the girl's family could find a new roof over their heads. A new home. But fate could have turned out much worse. But they were lucky.

She guesses that she is lucky now too. Her family, all her dear people died, yes. But in a fire or under the rubble of buildings. But it is much better than falling into the hands of heretics. And Malina herself survived. The new name was unusual. But she will get used to it. It is still her.

She survived and is now on board with the space marines who came to their aid. And let them be strange and no less strange things happen on board. But they trusted her and immediately explained about the curse of their genefather. All just to protect her. She was safe.

Well, that's what she wanted to think. It was easier that way.

But on the other hand, what else could she do? Pry information out of Luka and Virgil? Go outside, beyond the room? Malina still wanted to live. And she never liked to anger people, she was always too obedient, as the teachers said. And angering the Astartes, who could kill her with a snap of their fingers, was more expensive. The loyalists saved her. She was safe. She was safe.

She needed to believe in something to keep from going crazy.

***

Cleaning the armor was no easy task. Not only were they gigantic in size. But their owners also left quite a lot of blood on them. As if they were always involved in battles. But then again, they themselves said that they drank human blood.

“Just don’t rip off the skin. I hung it up on purpose. Besides, it’s still fresh, brand new.” - Virgil grinned maliciously.

Malina only cringed harder at his words, remembering how he came in and told her to clean his armor. It was all covered in blood. There were traces of dirt in some areas, and human parts had gotten into some compartments. Hair, teeth, and nails. The worst thing was the man’s smile. His snow-white, jagged teeth were covered in blood. And it was unlikely to be his own.

“Sure.” - the girl barely managed to say, getting ready to wash the lower part of the armor. Wincing, she moved the piece of skin away so as not to damage it. The stranger's face looked at her with disgust. As if she had personally betrayed the unfortunate man.

"Hmm, quiet one." - the lying man remarked with satisfaction, not taking his red eyes off the girl. This time there was no usual mockery or malice in his tone. Malina involuntarily rejoiced at this, but tried not to show it. Not to provoke.

Both men frightened her to one degree or another. But if she could negotiate with Luka, outwit and just behave nicely, then this will not work with Virgil. Unlike his comrade, he did not seek out meetings with her and did not talk to the girl.

On the contrary. It was as if he needed her to stay out of sight. The girl did not exactly irritate him. Malina quickly realized that he did not notice her presence. But he wanted one thing from her. Silence.

Judging by his appearance, according to her suspicions, he liked it when people shouted. Apparently interrogating traitors (let there be traitors, let there be heretics) gave him pleasure. But that doesn't mean he wanted to see people suffer all the time and everywhere.

One day... when she was half asleep. Either she hadn't had time to fall asleep yet, or, on the contrary, she was almost awake in the dark hour. She realized that she was not alone. Or rather, she realized that another person was sitting next to her bed.

He sniffed her. Watched her face. Waited for her to fall asleep. For her to become vulnerable again. Malina should have been scared. But that day she was too tired. Besides, the pleasant stroking of her head did its job and eventually she fell asleep. But she still heard him.

"Shhh, shhh, sleep tight little one. You are so much more beautiful like this."

And he kissed her forehead.

Malina swallowed, feeling bile rising in her throat. But she forced herself to hold back. Not to show her fear. She just needed to clean the armor as quickly as possible. And then the smell of blood and other people's fear would disappear from the room. And then the evil eyes would stop watching her every move.

***

She had all the necessary things. To tell the truth, she was surprised by the variety of clothes. Some fabrics were especially expensive to the touch, as if they were ripped off aristocrats. In addition, there was a lot of everything here instead of the usual serf uniform. But she didn’t want to ask who the clothes had belonged to before.

The girl immediately realized that her saviors were not the last people on the flagship. Not only did they not live in a dormitory, but together in quite big quarters. In addition, they had their own separate bathroom. With all the accessories and hot water!

Most often, the girl quickly washed herself when the Astartes left on business. Perhaps the fear of being seen naked was meaningless. And yet, Malina could not get rid of the embarrassment. In addition, sometimes Luka’s kindness and Virgil’s eyes watching her scared her. As if they were expecting something. As if they were holding back.

And yet, she finally allowed herself to take a bath after the news that the Space Marines would be gone for several days. And it was simply wonderful. To soak in the hot water, to calmly, leisurely wash herself. This was exactly what she had been missing. Her cheeks flushed from the steam, she was just washing herself when a sudden joyful cry rang out.

“Malina, I’m back! Did you miss me?”

Why so soon?

“Ah, y-yes!” - the girl quickly pulled her knees to herself, trying to hide all the important parts. - “Sorry I can’t go out, I’m taking a bath.”

Luka’s silence involuntarily led to the thought that the man had understood the hint. That he would allow her to be alone with herself. But the Astartes, the defenders of humanity, were too far removed from the people they protect. And yet, the girl’s spine crawled with goosebumps from how slowly Luka opened the door.

“Oh, oh, th-that’s good. Servants must be clean to fulfill the will of the God-Emperor, r-right?” - the stuttering man entered the room, casting fleeting glances at the girl. - “Hah, you have a real steam room here. Do you like it when it’s warm? It’s good. It’s very, very good.”

Malina involuntarily shuddered, staring into the water. Anything to avoid looking at the space marine awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. But even so, she managed to see his red ears. The strange tension between the two people was growing stronger and stronger, ready to snap like a thread.

“H-how were things with you?” - the girl said quietly, hoping to somehow calm her frantic heart.

“Oh, um, great. We just recently entered into battle with a rogue… pirate’s ship. They decided to cross our path, although they knew who they were dealing with, huh.” - Luka, who had almost relaxed, abruptly cleared his throat. - “With the defenders of the Imperium, of course!”

Yes, of course.

“I’m sure you were the best.” - the girl smiled sheepishly.

“Well, maybe not the best, but one of them, that’s for sure.” - the man who came up close proudly rubbed his nose. - “I was just at the front line, clearing the way for the brothers. You can’t imagine what a bloodbath I made there. They all screamed when they saw me.”

“I can imagine.” - the girl herself didn’t notice how she relaxed and allowed herself to joke. - “If the cooks need bloody mincemeat, they know who to turn to.”

“That’s right! You understand me so well.” - Luka said softly, staring into the water, still not looking at the girl herself. Malina involuntarily shuddered at such an answer.

“You must have taken a lot of trophies for yourself. Or are Astartes not allowed to take things from battle?”

“Why not? We can. And now even more. But Virgil doesn’t allow me to take too much trophies. He says that I clutter up the room. - Luka, who had made a displeased face, immediately brightened. - “But I brought you a couple of books so you wouldn’t get bored.”

“That’s very nice, thank you.” - the girl was sincerely happy. - “I could even read you the one I will like the most. If you want, of course.”

“I want to! I really want to, I-” - Luka, who finally looked at the girl, suddenly stopped his train of thought. A small blush appeared on his cheeks, and his blue eyes sparkled.

The stunned girl only now realized that her relaxed arms were no longer pressed so tightly to her chest. Revealing several areas of skin.

“Oh, um,” - the embarrassed girl pressed her limbs to herself again, not knowing what to say. She expected the Astartes to continue his dialogue. Say that he got distracted, that he remembered one detail from the battle. He is a space marine, he is-

“I have things to do.” - the blond thundered sharply, quickly leaving the room. The loud slamming of the door announced that Luka had left not only the bathroom, but also the quarters.

Perhaps Malina was too tired. Or she was scared by such a sharp behavior of Luka. Untypical for Astartes, but typical for ordinary men. Perhaps she was too tired from the sight of blood on the armor of the Space Marines. But the second Malina was left alone, she burst into tears.

She cried until the water became ice cold and she had to quickly dress before going to bed. Even her bed, although near the wall, was located between the beds of two men. As if they were watching her. Making it clear that she would not be able to get out. Perhaps that was true.

Tears burned her eyes and the girl was overcome by fatigue. But even so, she could not calmly close her eyes. Even in this state, being half asleep, she still heard other people's screams. The fear of being thrown out of the quarters and joining the screaming squeezed her heart.

***

How long had it been since she was rescued? A few weeks? A month? Alas, Malina had lost track of time. The girl would like to say that she had gotten used to her new life. To her new duties, which were not so difficult. To much better food and clothing than she had in her world. To a new small but comfortable bed with warm blankets and pillows that Luka had brought her.

The bitterness of losing loved ones was dulled by the rapid changes and communication with the Space Marines. Even if they were frightening, it was still better than talking to herself.

And yet she could not get used to the sounds coming from outside the quarters. Rare cries, begging either for help or for deliverance. Rolling inhuman laughter. The sounds of broken bones and tearing alien flesh. How a sword is sharpened, ammunition is changed. How servants quietly cry, trying not to attract attention.

It was unbearable.

The girl never spoke to Luka, much less Virgil, about what she had heard. The day they had saved her, when they had told her about all the strange things on the ship. That was enough. She didn't want to know more. She didn't need to know. As long as Malina was in this room, as long as the men were looking after her, she would be safe.

And yet, it was sometimes hard to fall asleep. Too hard to close her eyes and surrender to the saving darkness. While Luka was sleeping after a hard day of training, Malina was still awake. She lay quietly, hoping to fall asleep as soon as possible. Virgil, who was watching her, did not calm the girl down and only made her more nervous. It was as if the man wanted her to fall into the darkness as soon as possible. The girl would be happy to, but it was so difficult!

She was not a fighter and not as strong in spirit as she would like. She was scared and sad. She was lonely. Malina could no longer ask to go to her mother's bed like she had in childhood. She could no longer hug her old toys, burned after the heretic raid. Now she only has her.

And her saviors.

The girl carefully got up from her bunk and went to the sleeping man. To the man who saved her. The culprit, because of whom she ended up in this nightmare. And yet she is alive first and foremost thanks to him. He cares about her. Malina was afraid of him. Afraid and grateful.

“Angel,” the girl whispered quietly, peering into the warrior’s beautiful sleeping face. Hearing her voice, Luka suddenly opened his eyes and stared at the cowering girl. Even in the darkness of the room, his dilated pupils stood out.

“I can’t sleep because of the screams. I’m scared. Can I-” the girl hesitated awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. “Can I sleep with you?”

The man stared at the girl in disbelief, considering her words. Carefully, he moved further towards the wall, inviting her into his bed. Realizing that Malina had not brought a blanket with her, he swallowed and opened his own wider, ready to wrap the girl from head to toe.

“Yes,” was all Luka could say.

Malina climbed onto the bed slowly, as if afraid that she would be dragged by force. And yet she turned away from Luka, staring at the floor. But the man said nothing about it, pressing himself against the girl’s back. His intermittent breathing warmed the back of her head.

The rare screams behind the wall did not subside, mixed with crying and someone else’s laughter, creating a strange cacophony of sounds. Music that Malina would never be able to understand and did not want to know. The girl concentrated not on the distant sounds, but on those that surrounded her. On the colors and sensations.

How the dark room pleasantly envelops, and the warm blankets and pillow pleasantly lull her. Like a crookedly drawn double-headed eagle, albeit mockingly, still watching her. Keeping an eye on her. And let the red eyes watch her, like a predator watching its prey. Waiting for her to close her eyes. And let the barely suppressed moan and slimy sounds be heard behind her. Let it be so.

For the first time, the girl slept peacefully.

[zanashair]

— your presences

Ran Haitani x F!Reader

master list

fluff | female!reader | ib that one ts scene (im sad now)

warning : you're an idol? none.

A/N: hello, here's an old oneshot that i had uploaded on Wattpad but forgot to upload it here, I've been a little dead and unmotivated when it comes to writing, not that i hate it, it's more of a i started to become a little to aware of my way of writing stories, I'll work on that since i have a fanfic i wanted to finish lol, anw, bye for now

The loud cheers from the sea of crowds were the only thing filling up the enormous stadium, you and your idol members continues to keep their energy shined out from the very beginning of the concert till to this very second, your body moved and keep on track to the right rhythm playing in your 'in ear monitor' moving position's and changing turns for each other own part of the song

As you continue to sings all out to your hearts content, you couldn't helped but looked around through the vip section of the seat, hoping to see a certain tall lanky figure with a purple haired and black streaks dyed men sitting somewhere in the vip crowd's 

You threw a glance to the vip section every once in a while, not wanting to be seen as if you were searching for someone specific in the crowds which could grew suspicion to the fans since there is always cameras pointing at them each second. dating was not something banned in your entertainment company, but they gave out a heads up on how those delusional fans could get a bit too rowdy and wild when it comes out to their lovely idol getting their selves a significant other, and it wasn't something that is easy to control...

For what have felt like ages you've been looking out for the obvious purple colored haired men that should've been easily spotted since the hair color stands out a lot, you didn't found him, your heart dropped a bit by the fact you weren't able to find him in the vip crowd, even with the very few minutes break to interact with your crowd of lovely fans asking how their days have been going so far and if they have been enjoying their selves with the performance your group idol have been giving out to them, you weren't able to find him, your bright smile fall off for a momentarily before a forced out one rise back up to your lips

You weren't sad nor disappointed that he weren't there, he has always been a busy man himself, having to deal with their clubs and other businesses work stuff in hand, it were expected that he wouldn't be able to appear and show support in your idol group performance all the time, but he had given out the most sweetest words and promise's on how he will 100% show up on the vip crowd and cheering you like he's your number one fan, but it seems that he got himself busy or maybe something unavoidable happened that he couldn't cancel the plans out

"Y/n, are you ok?" your friend whispered out to you as she sent you a worried expression, you quickly snapped your head towards the girl and nodded telling her that you were more than fine, which she did not believed in the slightest "you're horrible at lying you know~" "do i?" she only let out a giggle and put her arms around your shoulder and proceeds to close her mouth with the back of her hands 

"You're looking for him, don't you?" the mic that each of the idol members were given were all hand mic which you were thankful about since this conversation that had just started were only between you and the member only to know, you then closed your mouth with the back of your hand too and put the right hand which were the hand you were holding onto the mic fell to the side of your thigh "was it that obvious?" she only nodded and once again let's out another giggle

"We could go and search for him in the crowds if you wanted to?" she whispered again with her mouth covered with the back of her hands "isn't that too risky?" sending her a nervous smile she shrugged at your words "we'll just multitask between searching for him and interact with the fans and read their hilarious board too~" 

And just with that, you agreed and started walking to the other 3 members of your group, had a minute talk before you all decided to go a bit more closer to the vip crowd from the stage, looking and interacting a bit with the fans

You and the previous girl that have had been talking with you were walking at the left side of the stage waving, laughing at those creative and funny board the fans held up for you all to read, flashing them smiles and having a short talk and selfies using their phones, but even with all of the stuff you were doing your best to interact with the fans, your eyes kept on searching for him, silently

You were starting to lose hope before you saw a group of 12 light stick of your f/c glow sticks that flashing right at the corner of your eyes, you turned around and were met with the sight of 3 grown man, in suits, one with horribly bright pink hair and the other two with a short and long purple hair, waving your glow sticks at your way, each one of them had two f/c glow sticks in each hand

And there you were met with his beautiful purple gaze, you couldn't helped but let the wide smile crept upon your lips at the sight of it as a laughter bubble up in your throat, ready to burst out from your lips by the sight of them

Rindou clearly seemed like he were too tired to even be there, sanzu were just confused but has kinda gotten the spirit to wave the stick in the sky aggressively, and then there was ran, ran haitani, his gaze screamed "head over heels" and the soft smile has been plastered on him for as long as he could remembered, watching you shine brighter than you already are up on the tall stage, he couldn't helped but let his heart melt a bit at the sight of it

The next thing you knew, without any hesitation, you blowout a kiss to the crowd of fans which made the row of seat squeal in happiness, thinking it were given to them when clearly it were sent to the purpled haired man, but they didn't need to know thay only the both of you do (and rin and sanzu, but not the point), ran reach out his hands for the blown kiss, grabbed it and dramatically put his balled fist on his chest as if had took the kiss you had gave and kept it inside of his heart

Now knowing that ran were 100% in the crowds, watching over you, you couldn't helped but give out an even MORE outstanding performance even after all of the hours, even after your legs were giving out on you and you were breathing in for air, you wanted to give out 1000% of your all 

After the last song were performed, you and your group of friends send out the thankyou's for the crowds and waving them a goodbye before you and the other 4 members disappeared from the stage

At the backstage, you were each given a bottle of water by the staff as they told to every members that they all have done an outstanding performance today like any other performance, thanking for their words one of the other staff called out for your name, telling you that a certain dude named ran haitani were looking for your presence, and with that being told, you took off and ran

looking around for ran in the long hallway of the backstage, you finally found his figure, both hands in each side of the pockets, he turned his head around towards the rapid foot steps that were running towards his way, realizing that it was only you, he sent out another soft smile and he removed both arms from the pockets

"i thought you didn't came! i got so sad when i couldn't find you" and with that, you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly "really now?" he said with an obvious teasing voice lacing in his tone, with your face buried on the crook of his neck, you nodded your head while still hugging tightly onto him "i thought you had to cancel it and had to do other stuff" your words slightly muffled out but still managed to make sense to his ears "i always keep my promises, i am a man of my words after all..." hugging you back tightly, he kissed the crown of your head and let the side of his face fell on top of yours

"and what's with rindou and sanzu coming too? i thought it was just gonna be you?" you lifted your head to look at his eyes "i can't hold all 12 of your glow sticks all alone you know?" you sweat dropped a bit at his words "12 glows stick? why did you got that much?" "just so i can stand out the most" you could only laughed at his statement and shook your head a bit at it 

"i think the suit and purple hair already stand out quite a lot if you asked me"

please reblog if you enjoy it <3

[normal-internet-user]

Supplier

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Summary: You are always supplying your purple banded friend with tools and parts for his research and inventing, but one day, you accidentally leave behind a piece of paper you thought you trashed, and it leads to an accidental confession.

Warnings: None!

Requested: Nuh uh!

GN!Reader

....................................

You hummed quietly as you searched through the scrap metal infront of you.

You were currently digging around in a scrapyard that was located not to far from your apartment. Donnie had sent you a list of parts he needed for a thingy majig that he was working on, and you promised to get them for him.

Humming quietly to the song you heard on the radio this morning, you picked up one of the parts Donnie asked for, putting it in your little red wagon alongside everything else.

Checking your list, you notice that you finished grabbing everything, so you start to walk out of the scrapyard, waving goodbye to the old man who owns it as you leave. He lets you come in whenever you want to, and never once had he asked you for payment either, he was super sweet.

You walked down the sidewalk, dragging your wagon behind you. Suddenly you get a text from Donnie, you open the message and read it out.

Purple Guy: Did you get the stuff?

You smile, sending a quick reply.

(Nickname): Yep! I got it all here! I dunno if some of it works, but ig we'll find out.

Purple Guy: Thank you so much, (Name)! You are literally the most amazing person ever!

Purple Guy: Bring it all down ASAP, ok? I'll see you in a bit!

You blush slightly, this dork had no idea what he was doing to you. Sure, it was a light hearted, easy-going complement. One you would give a friend.

But gosh darn it, somehow it still gave you butterflies.

Sighing, you make your way down an alley, then over to the back wall. You look behind you, then up towards the rooftops, checking to make sure you aren't being watched.

Once you confirm that its fine, you drop the wagon handle. You walk over to one of the dumpsters and reach behind it, hand brushing the wall untill you find a button.

Pushing the button, you back away as the ground opens up. Smiling you walk through the entrance that is normally used for the Shellraiser.

You arrive at the Lair shortly after, heaving your wagon up the stairs. Walking further into your turtle friends home, you find Mikey and Leo sitting on the couch, watching TV.

"Hey guys." you say, greeting the two.

Mikey whips his head around, jumping up and over to you, "(Name)'s here!"

The orange masked turtle pulls you into a bearhug, sqeezing tightly.

"Mikey- need- air-!"

"Oops."

Mikey drops you, smiling sheepishly, "Sorry dude/tte, my bad."

You laugh shaking your head as you pick up the wagon handle, "Your fine, Mikey. Just try not to squeeze so hard, I'm brittle remember?"

The terrapin smiles and nods, before walking over and crashing back on the couch. You wave to Leo before continuing to Donnie's lab.

"Knock, knock."

Donnie jerks his head up at the sound of your voice, looking in your direction. He smiles at you as he pulls up his welding mask, you returning his smile with one of your own.

You push the wagon infront of you, nudging it closer to Donnie, "I come bearing gifts."

He gasps, "No way you actually found that one?" he rushes over and picks something out of the parts.

"Was it supposed to be hard to find?" you ask, sitting in the extra chair Donnie always had out for you.

"Yes! I've been trying to find one to fix for a while now, but haven't had any luck. Gosh you really are amazing."

You blush, clearing your throat, "S-so uh, what is it?"

Donnie looks up from examining the peice, "Hm? Oh, it's a motor for a hydrolic press, I need for a Shellraiser upgrade."

You nod, looking around the lab as Donnie continues to dig through the stuff you brought him.

You jump as your phone buzzes, pulling it out of your pocket, you see a message from your mom, telling you your aunt and cousins were coming over for dinner, and that you had about an hour to cousin proof your stuff.

Not looking up from your phone as you reply to your mother you get Donnie's attention, "Hey, Dee, I have to go. Apparently we're having family over for dinner. I got about an hour to put up anything I don't want broken."

"Your aunt Sherry?" he asks as he bring some of the stuff over to his desk.

"Yep, Aunt Sherry and her little trolls." you sigh, "I'll just come back for my wagon tommorow, ok? that way I have an excuse to bother you guys."

Donnie smiles, "Sure thing, see you tommorow, (Nickname)."

"See you tommorow, Don."

You walk out of the Lab, saying good-bye to Leo and Mikey, on the way, leaving out into the New York sewer system.

You make your way down through the streets to your apartment, thinking about how smoothly that small interaction with Donnie had gone. You only blushed once!

Sure you were there for like, fifteen minutes, but, hey, a win is a win.

Walking up into the apartment you share with your parents, you say hello to your mother before walking into your room to begin the process of hiding things.

You sigh, as you put your laptop up on a high shelf, thinking silently to yourself. Should you tell him? Would he even feel the same way? Didn't he have a crush on April? It's not that you hadn't tried to tell him before, in fact the opposite was true.

You had tried to tell him before in person, over text, your latest attempt involved you writing out your feeling on paper with the intent of giving him the note. But you once again chickened out, and trashed the note.

Why was this so dang hard? Why do feelings need to be so friggin' complex? You love Donnie, you really do. You love his adorkable smile, the way he rambles on about his certain projects, how he smiles whenever you ask him a question.

He was perfect. But for some stupid reason, you just couldn't being yourself to tell him.

Before you could fall deeper into your own pity party, you heard your mother loud voice greeting your aunt at the door.

With a sigh you start to make your way into the living room, prepared to endure hell.

<DONNIE'S POV>

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

I watched as (Name) left the Lab, listening to their cheerful voice as they bid my brother goodbye.

I look at the red wagon with a sigh. I shake my head, forcing myself to focus.

"Relax, Donnie. They'll be back tommorow."

I begin to unpack the wagon, placing the parts (Name) brought me in their rightful place around the Lab. My body was workimg on auto pilot as I focused on my thoughts.

How I had managed to get through that entire interaction with (Name) without completely embarrasing myself was a complete mystery.

I had recently come to terms with my feelings for them, I had been over April for quite a while now, and honestly, this was worse.

My old infatuation with April was completely different than my feelings for (Name). With April, it was more like feelings of physical attraction, the definition of a typical school kid crush.

But (Name) made me feel different. They make me smile, and laugh, I feel like I'm on a cloud whenever we talk. Their voice, their eyes, their kind nature, who wouldn't be in love with them?

"Exactly, who wouldn't be in love with them? why would they choose you?"

"Shut up brain." I mutter to myself

I finally finish emptying the wagon, so I grab the handle, and move it to a corner of the Lab. That way, when (Name) comes to get it tommorow it's not damaged at all.

I start to turn away from the wagon, when I notice a crumpled peice of paper sitting in the bottom the empty transport.

Curious, I pick up the paper, doing my best to smooth out the wrinkles, I see the familar handwriting belonging to (Name).

My eyes widen as I read the paper, jaw dropping in surprise.

They like me.

They like me.

I re-read the note, double and triple checking that I've read it correctly. And I did. It was the exact same the first, second, and third time I read it.

I clutched the note in my hand, running out of the Lab, and the Lair. I ignore Leo's questions as I rush into the sewers, with only one thing on my mind.

<YOUR POV>

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

You close your bedroom door, as quietly as possible, locking it just to be safe.

You had finally ditched the miny terrors that were your cousins, and the last thing you wanted was them in your room.

With a loud sigh you fell backwards onto your bed, arms and legs spread like a starfish.

But before you could even get fully comfortable, a soft knock came from your window.

Groaning, you got up from your bed, and walked over to your window. You drew back the curtains, practically jumping from your skin as you're greeted by the sight of a beaming Donatello Hamato.

You unlatch the window, allowing Donnie into your room. "What are you doing here? The sun isn't even fully down ye-"

"I like you too."

"I- what?" you're taken aback at Donnie's statement. He likes you too?

"I like you too. Like, as more than a friend."

"How did you-"

"I, uh- found your note." Donnie sheepishly handed you the crumpled paper, and you looked down at it,

'Dear, Donatello Donnie,

I like you. Like, alot. And I wrote it down on this note because I've tried and failed to tell you in person, and I have for a while. I like your smile, I like your laugh, I just couldn't help but fall for you.'

You felt your cheeks heat up, "Uh-uhm..."

Your cheeks burned brighter when you felt Donnie's hand on your chin, lifting your face so that you're looking at him.

"Can I... Can I kiss y-you?" he asked, softly.

You nodded, arms wrapping around his neck as you both lean in slowly. Just before you can kiss, you hear a knock on your bedroom door.

The two of you jump, both your heads jerking up to face the door.

"Honey? your aunt wants you to show her that scarf you bought the other day." your mom called from the otherside.

"O-ok! just a second." you yell back.

You heard your mother walk away from your door, and turned to face Donnie again, "Hurry up, kiss me before the gremlins interrupt too."

He laughed quietly before trapping your lips with his own. The kiss was slow, gentle, and sweet, just what you'd expect from Donnie. When the two of you pull away, he's looking directly into your eyes, gaze so full of love you would think you'd hung the stars.

Before either of you could say anything, a knock interrupted again, "(Name)? Are you coming?" your mother asked through the door.

"Y-yeah, I just had to find the scarf."

"Ok, sweety."

You laughed quietly with Donnie as walked him to your window, "So, I'll see you tommorow?"

"Yeah. yeah, see you tommorow."

You smiled as you watched him leave, not moving from your window untill you couldn't see him anymore.

.........................................

[boymanmaletheshequel]

An altar for Aether 🛐

🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️

Thinking of setting up an altar or devotional space for the all seeing god of light and sky, the ancient god Aether? Cool! Working with a primordial deity can be an enlightening and rewarding experience for sure! And aether is certainly one of the less intimidating to do so with, and a great way to start exploring primordial deity devotion! You’ll need an altar of course, so why don’t we look at some ways to get started?

• STEP ONE: Colors and Cloth 🌈🧶

In order to start your altar, wether that be upon a tabletop, a floor corner, a shelf, or a drawer, it’s a good idea to lay down a cloth or fabric of the color associated with the god you intent to make it for! Aether, being the god of light and the sky, has 2 colors historically that are associated with him. Yellow, Lavender, and light blue! These colors can be a common theme on his altar space, and a cloth or fabric in one or both of these colors is the place to start! Used fabrics can be found for fairly cheap at most thrift shops, or at textiles shops, such as for example: Value Village, Johanne’s, or local sewing shops. Bonus points if you can find a piece of fabric scrap with related iconography on it as well! Such as the sun, or beams of light, in Aether’s case.

• STEP TWO: dishes, vessels, utilities. 🏺🕯️

The next thing you’ll want to add to your altar are some of the larger, more utilitarian pieces you wish to decorate with, these can include things like tarot decks, teacups or plates to hold offerings, offering bowls, candles, or books. It is also a good idea to select bowls, dishes, and teacups that line up with the iconography and sacred symbolism of the god the altar is dedicated to. For example, where an altar to say, Demeter, may have these objects decorated with symbols of farming, Lily of the valley, wheat, or autumnal imagery, an altar to Aether might have these same objects decorated with symbolism of things like clouds, the sun, birds, or angels/cherubs!

• STEP THREE: Idols and Tributes 🪆♟️

Another important way to respect your altar and it’s god is to decorate it with Idols of them, like statues, sketches, or other artworks depicting them! You can also donate tributary items to the altar, such as little figurines or charms of things associated with them, for example, my Artemis altar has a small porcelain cat figurine, and my Freya altar has a guilloche heart trinket. Perhaps an altar to Aether could have a song bird figurine, or a statuette of an angel or cherub!

• STEP FOUR: traditional offerings 🍷💎🫚

Some traditional offerings like food, drink, crystals, herbs, flowers, etc. are an important, and very easy offer to make to your altars, and can easily be placed in the vessels and dishes you keep on the altar space. These offers vary on the god associated, but I’ll list some good ones for Aether below!

- 🌸: Lavender, Violets, Wisteria.

- 🫚: Saffron, Coffee beans, Chamomile

- 💎: Celestite, Angelite, Amethyst.

- 🍗: Blueberries

- 🍷: coffee, tea, honey

• STEP FIVE: Iconography

The final step to creating your altar is the use of divine iconography. These symbols, emblems, and motifs celebrate your gods lore, history, and sacred things. You can honor this by finding things donning the iconography associated with your god! For example, almost all of my altars utilize antique painted porcelain or ceramics in some way, I have a porcelain sugar dish painted with strawberries for Aphrodite, a tea plate with wheat sheathes for Demeter, and an antique English teacup with Lilacs painted on it for Pan! Some of the sacred icons of Aether may include: Lavender, Saffron, Eagles, Griffins, and clouds.

☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️☀️🕯️

Now that you’re altar to the great god of Aether has been set up, you now have a proper dedicated space to devote yourself to him with! Pray to him for luck with the weather, ask him to guide to the light, and tell him your stories, and enquire for his wisdom. May Aether bless you and your brand new altar! 💙🏛️💙

If you like this post, and wish to learn more about the gods of Hellen, Hellenism, paganism, and much more, please consider giving me a follow! I post every single day :) have a blessed day. 💙🏛️

[jess-fae]

MERMAID AU

Note; this is my first time writing fanfic on here so pls if smth is wrong tell me cus i want to improve i maybe wanna write this out one day but i aint promising it

Excuse the horrible britsh accent

Summary; Hobie is a pirate captured by the British navy and one day Y/N a mermaid finds him

Trigger warning; violence, thoughts of death and angst lost of it

✦ Hobie Brown one of the most known pirates in the Seven Seas was captured by the British navy not too long ago for piracy

✦ after they sunk his ship they chained him to the small wooden boat swimming beside the lieutenant's ship

✦were he stayed trying to plan his great escape, yet unbeknownst to Hobie he had caught a mermaid's attention by playing his guitar every night

✦ sure the lieutenant had many men go down there and try to take the guitar from him but they all failed

✦ so Hobie kept playing every night stealing his sleep

✦and every night the mermaid would watch him from afar; you would have eaten the man long ago usually, he was easy prey after all, all men were with your siren song

✦but you didn't know something about him that didn't sit right with you, maybe it was his never-ending rebellion against the bad man's doing

✦or maybe it really was just the enchanting way he played the guitar with

✦You didn't know but you watched him for hours at a time carefully in the comfort of the darkness so no one could see you

✦That was at the least till a bigger wave hit the small boat he had stayed on and Hobie dropped his guitar into the cold ocean

✦fear lay over him as he desperately tried to get his beloved guitar back but the chains on his legs held him tight

✦Don't do it you had told yourself, interacting with humans could end badly especially when helping them

✦ but you didn't listen, instead you swam after the guitar which was way below the water now, and brought it back up

✦that when your eyes meet with his for the first time

✦Now Hobie wasn't an idiot, every pirate knew to stay away from the merfolk but you held the thing he cared for with the most

✦you saw his hesitation and laid the guitar inside the boat before backing off a little

✦eyes never leaving his, you noticed the change within them, you noticed the fear

✦you looked down at the instrument and back up at his eyes, you wanted him to play again

✦meanwhile the pirate had thought these were his last moments on this earth

✦the pirate who was always so sure that he would escape death, was now fearing it

✦Yet he wondered why the mermaid in front of him hadn't ripped him apart and eaten his heart

✦ following your eyes he found what they looked at, "Ya wan' me to play?" the mermaid nodded

✦and he did so, maybe he earned your grace? it was strange after growing up with stories where merfolk was such a cruel folk

✦ for the next nights this would repeat, after some performances, you would bring him shiny seashells and other trinkets you would at the bottom of the ocean

✦however horror had laid over you when you realised why you enjoyed the pirate company so much

✦it was no longer just his songs and melodies, the charm that Hobie had used on countless variants of people had worked on you

✦ the small touches he had allowed himself to after realizing you wouldn't bite his hand off and his glamouring words had cast a spell on you

✦ so much that you became more careless and aware of the dangers caused by others than him

✦so one night you had climbed into the wooden boat again, listing to him ramble about one of his many stories where he ruined the navy plans

✦"If ya wan' to eat me go ahead dove, I've been unda ya spell for long" his hand rested on your cheek watching as his thumb carefully stroked over your cheek

✦ yet there was no spell made from your voice, you didn't even dare use it in fear it might cut him

✦hobies eyes watched as his thumb traced your lips, only shortly connecting with your eyes before they also mimicked his

✦you wondered what he would taste like, not his blood or flesh but the way humans taste each other

✦the distance between the two of you became unacceptable far apart

✦so unacceptable that you decided to close it, not caring about the million reasons to not kiss a human out of love

✦but by the sea it felt so good, like waves crashing against each other

✦air became irrelevant, only needing this feeling to survive

✦"I think I am in love with ya, dove." Hobie said resting his forehead against yours

✦Turning at the same time a seaman walked along the deck of the ship hearing the pirate's voice, he laughed thinking Hobie had gone completely insane

✦so he looked over the edge to have his jaw falling to the bottom of the sea

✦going to wake the captain to tell him about the mermaid

✦they wasted no time to capture the unexpecting creature

✦a net was thrown over the edge and the small wooden boat was pulled up

✦fear washed over you, as you and Hobie tried to get rid of the net so you could disappear into the depths of the ocean but you failed and you landed on the deck of the ship

✦cloth was wrapped around your mouth, arms were tied together and dragged away from Hobie

✦inside the small cabin you heard the captain's cold voice speak "You ever heard the stories of mermaids being turned human?" his toothy grin scared you

✦as he lifted a blade "I always wanted to know if they were true, how about we find out." he threatened as he cut your beautiful tail apart

...

✦days later you woke up again hoping for it all to be a bad dream but as you looked down you saw that your once powerful mermaid tail and fins were now legs with feet attached to them

✦a shrill scream came rushing out of your lungs as you gripped and scratched your legs, hot tears falling down your face

✦ Regret came over you, you should have never come close to that human... but it wasn't his fault

✦The next days passed by, filled with pain and hate. The captain came inside to look at his creation ignoring the horror he caused

✦you didn't feel the same anymore, just a week ago you were feeling such bliss such love but now...

✦you couldn't feel anymore, you listened to the waves crashing against the ship hoping a storm would rip it apart and drown everyone on board

✦the captain no longer cared and you walked along the boat looking for one person only

✦you tightly held the stolen dagger close as you tried to find your way down to Hobie

✦down in the small wooden boat where everything began you hoped Hobie would understand what you were about to ask for

✦the pirate was happy to see you alive, especially after that tormenting scream that could have only come from you days ago

✦ neither of you said anything, you didn't even know how to start this, to begin with

✦"Do you know why Mermaids aren't meant to be turned into humans?" you whispered as you looked at the small waves

✦" 'cus it is cruel?" he answered ignoring how beautifully your voice was, no wonder you never spoke when you were a mermaid you would have enchanted him eminently

✦silence laid over the two of you again before you spoke "Hobie, I- I can feel this mortal body rotting."

✦salty tears came rushing over you again, was this the price you had to pay for falling in love with him?

✦Hobie was shocked and didn't know how to react so he just held you

✦you clenched the dagger harder before sitting up and holding it out to Hobie

✦ "I want you to kill me, I cannot live this life." you looked into his eyes once you would have felt such love but now you felt nothing

✦and even if wouldn't turn into seafoam like you sisters, this would be the only way to end this tragedy humans called life

Note: now don't worry I am working on part two where there will be a happy ending, I just don't wanna make this too long. <3