#but look at him walking the children in nature how considerate

[katatonicimpression]

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In Generation X (1994) #47, Forge installs a miniature danger room in the Massachusetts Academy, for the kids to train with.

Later, while he is teaching a guest class on ethics, it gains sentience (because of Gaia) and tries to kill them all.

[perfectlyoongi]

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who watches you closely at every party. Jungkook didn’t even realize he was looking at you — it was something instinctive for him: to admire you, to pay attention to you and any of your actions to see if you needed him; simply having you always there in some way was the most natural thing for Jungkook. that’s why, when he followed you with his eyes, making sure you were having fun, he didn’t realize that he prolonged his attention when someone wanted to be nicer to you; or when someone wanted to take a little risk and try to touch you in some way, Jungkook simply couldn’t look away from you. Jungkook just wanted to make sure you were having fun, but that you weren’t having the time of your life without him. “oh, was i looking? sorry. i was just admiring how all the men here are mere children in adult bodies. just a thought, really”

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who made getting to know you a contest. Jungkook knew that, at the end of the day, he was the one who had you. he always saw you talking to everyone. your words came out freely without any problems, revealing fond memories and fantastic stories. in just a few hours, you made yourself known to those who wanted to know you. but none of them knew how you liked your coffee; none of them knew you were still crying over lost friendships; none of them knew how you liked to make your bed; none of them knew you, as you were, in your entirety. none of them except Jungkook. he was the only one who knew you. he was better than everyone. “what do you mean they only found out now that you don’t like elevators? you’ve been afraid of it since you were 5. frankly, they could be more considerate and walk up the stairs with you, but oh well.”

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who compares himself to everyone you talk to. you might be accepting a drink from that bank clerk, but Jungkook cooked for you every saturday. you’re laughing at the professor’s joke, but you ended up crying and clutching your stomach from laughing so hard with Jungkook. the engineer could have put his arm around your neck, but it was Jungkook who hugged you from behind when you felt under the weather. you’re telling the story of how your boss mistook you for an intern to the psychologist, but it was Jungkook who heard all your secrets. yes, they could be a lot of things, but none of them were Jungkook. “are you sure the story you just heard was the best you’ve ever heard? don’t you remember how you liked that story i told you so much that you called me at 4 in the morning asking how it ended?”

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who had no doubt that you would be happier by his side. no matter how many laughs and conversations you had with everyone else, Jungkook was still special, he knew it. he was the only one capable of turning your tears into melodious laughter, he was the only one capable of bringing you comfort on the coldest nights, he was the only one. yes. Jungkook didn’t need to worry — he was the one who knew you, who made you smile, who made you happy. no one else could make you feel grateful to be alive like Jungkook did. none of these people who wanted your attention knew how divine you were. only Jungkook — the only one capable of making you truly happy. “i know we agreed to marry each other if we’re single by 35, but i’m just suggesting you consider moving that date forward. that’s all.”

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who just wanted to make you smile like others did. yes, Jungkook was himself, and he was a lot to you, but he couldn’t make you smile like that. you had shining eyes, your skin was glowing, and your smile, as if drawn by the happiest artist, sculpted by the luckiest god, painted by the brightest star — your smile was everything. and Jungkook had never been able to put a smile like that on your face, a smile capable of stealing the light from the moon and the heat from the sun — pure, heartfelt, yours. “i noticed that you were enjoying the conversation with the group of professors. you looked really pretty smiling.”

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who doesn’t want to lose you, but he can’t ask you to stay. you were happy. you were having fun. you were charming the entire audience with your smile. you didn’t belong to Jungkook anymore — you never did. now you were theirs. of all those who admired you and wanted to know you better. and all Jungkook could do was look at you, admire you, see you conquering the entire world without any effort. like he always did. like he always will.

JEALOUS!JUNGKOOK who finally decided to talk to you. “when you were with the others and having fun with them it was as if you held my heart in your hands and squeezed it with your every laugh. i feel like i was never able to make you as happy as you were with them and i realized that that hurts, a lot. what i’m trying to say is that i like you, and that’s why i don’t like seeing you with others.”

[lovifie]

Villager!Reader and Villager!Ghost They're in love but their families are enemies...

Masterlist - Smut | Fluff | 3489 words

💚A Village Apart💚

The Riley family, and yours, have a history of feuds and quarrels going back years, decades, and if there were writings to back it up, centuries.

It is a small village, where houses are inherited and everyone knows each other. Therefore, all the inhabitants of the small village are aware of the enmity between the families.

And being such a quiet village, the amusement of many arises from taking one side of the families and criticising the other.

It is natural at this point in the story, and each generation that is born the rest of the village waits for the children of each to marry so that they can see how the story continues.

The Riley family earned their name and respect for their construction work in the village. Rare is the house that his family did not build.

Simon began working in his father's shadow almost as soon as he could walk, and as soon as he could carry weight, he became a bishop in his father's small army of builders.

It was not because he was the boss's son that he had it easier, some even say he was the one who had it harder.

It is a hard job, with admirable physical effort, but unfortunately, it left most of the workers without energy to enjoy the little free time they had after a long day's work.

Simon found a reason to keep a little extra energy reserve for when his day was over.

And that reason is you.

Your family is not as well known as his, well, everyone knows each other in the village; but yours is accorded less respect than his.

Unlike his, your family is humble, with enough cattle to feed the family and sell the leftovers when there are any.

It is a humble job, with difficult working hours, considerable physical effort and often little profit or reward.

But there is always food on the table and animals to look after; the people may not appreciate your family's work as much as they should, but the innocent animal eyes you look into every day make it worth it.

Another reason driving you on was Simon.

It was difficult at first, as you both knew it was a forbidden relationship. Your families had told you again and again to stay away from each other's families.

"They are women, Simon. We haven't worked as hard as we have to stoop to that level."

"They think they're better than everyone else for moving stones, sweetheart. You don't deserve that treatment."

"If they see you hanging out with her, the rest of the people in the village will think they have the right to talk to us like we're equals too."

"They're machines, honey. They're not capable of producing emotions those Riley's, you deserve better than someone obsessed with money like that."

But still, despite everything; it was impossible to avoid the sidelong glances as you passed each other walking through town.

When you went to mass, when you went to the village fairs, when friends in common met.

Normally, for a girl like you to meet boys would be frowned upon; but with the village being so small, they were the boys you played with years ago and it was an idiotic feeling to deny such good friendships.

Besides, they were the perfect excuse for you to see him when he joined the meetings; which, curiously enIt had nothing to do with the fact that he would ask before attending if you were going to be there.

Many times in the evening Simon would be exhausted from working all day, but if he was told that you were going to be there, there was no physical exhaustion that would prevent him from seeing you.

Many times he would be on the verge of falling asleep when they were gathered together, waiting for the chance to be able to walk you home.

"A young lady like you shouldn't have to go home alone."

"It's a couple of steps, Simon."

"Not if we follow my route."

"Your route?"

"Yes... Do you want me to show it to you?"

It turned out, knowing the structure of all the houses in the village, Simon knew perfectly well what route to follow that kept you hidden from the eyes of all the villagers.

The first night, it was pretty much just awkward silence. Both of you still internally debating whether it was worth the possible quarrel with your families just to meet the other person.

But the second night you got back together, the decision was made and the conversation flowed as if you were lifelong friends.

Innocent questions about each other's lives evolved into questions about each other's future plans,

You both decided to ignore the voice in your mind that told you not to continue, if anyone in the village, and God willing, anyone in your families, found out; a war would break out.

Your family was much more permissive than his, which meant that if you dared to associate with Simon, they would send you to a convent or marry you off to someone else.

You knew that those were the good options, you preferred not to think about what might happen to him.

It was easier to forget the possible consequences, especially when your hands brushed as you walked. When you felt the heat emanating from Simon's body, warming the side of your body that walked beside him. He walked slower, both so you could keep up effortlessly and to slow down the walk so he could spend more time with you.

In spite of everything, and knowing full well everything you stood to lose if it was discovered. It was during the harvest festival that Simon kissed you for the first time. Hidden in the barn of your family's farm, lying on the hay.

You were both lying down, with you on your back and your head resting on Simon's arm and him lying next to you on his side.

His other hand, the one not under you, rested delicately on your waist, pulling you close to him as if afraid you were going to run away.

His lips were full and warm on yours; a kiss almost innocent and overflowing with inexperience on both sides. Your hand slowly moved up to his jawline, stroking the nascent hair of his beard.

You were both pushing against each other, needing each other's touch and proximity. A mess of tongues to the point that you no longer knew whose was which, as your hands travelled up and down each other's body.

It is because of that proximity that you found it impossible to ignore as Simon's shaft grew in size and hardened against your thigh, the discreet hip movements seeking more friction and rubbing.

"Simon" You called out to him, panic invading your senses.

"Easy... I don't mean to do anything but kiss your lips, sweetheart. But I can't help it when I finally have you in my arms after so long dreaming about it."

And he kept true to his word, his hands never went beyond your hips nor were his lips more daring than kisses at the corner of your lips.

If you noticed moisture on your thigh on the side where he was, you said nothing. Nor did you mention the growing wetness between your legs.

But once you tasted the honey, you couldn't help but visit the hive.

Until then, it had been easy to avoid temptation; you didn't know the sweet sensation, the warmth of each other, the security of being together, the desire, the passion, the possibilities....

But you had to continue to be careful, you didn't know when someone could surprise you.

But when the innocent kisses in the barn turned into something more than kisses on the lips, you could easily expect the punishment you were facing.

"Simon, we can't" You moaned as you noticed Simon's hand move up from your ankle up towards your thigh underneath your dress.

"Why, why delay the inevitable when I know you're the one for me?" he murmured with his lips pressed against the skin of your neck, kissing you wetly and raising every hair on your body.

"But we can't..." You tried to insist, but no longer with any strength against his hand. "I must come pure to the marriage, Simon. Our parents would never forgive."

"Then let us marry, my love. Here and now. The moon and the stars as witnesses that I am yours far more than you will ever be mine, that I was born decades ago but not until I joined you did my heart begin to beat. Witnesses of my love, that there will not be a day that you wake up that is not in my arms, that there will not be a day that you wake up that you do not feel loved. That my work in this life will be to love you each and every day of it. That I don't care if I go thirsty and hungry every day if at nightfall it is your arms that pick me up, that there is no wound or blow that hurts me like when you reject me, when you take me away from you. Don't you realise, love? Don't you realise that I need you more than air? I promise you, my love. That if you accept me you will never ever regret it."

One kiss from your lips was all the answer I needed, the seal of the contract of your unorthodox union.

He kissed you back with the same fervour, a moan escaping his throat as he finally savoured you without thoughts in his mind that would take him away from you and the now.

He moved his hand under your dress, lifting your petticoats in the same way so he could reach your wet folds.

You whimper against his mouth, the touch of the man igniting something inside of you that was waiting asleep in the depth of your body. It is easy for his finger to slip inside between the folds, arching your back at the feeling of the intrusion.

You feel his lips on your jaw, travelling calmly to your ear where he stays professing his love for you, making you mewl when it mixes with the feeling between your legs.

“Simon!” You moan when he adds a second finger, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit sending a shockwave up your column

You are still surrounded by the feeling of prohibition, the tension of possible discovery with its corresponding punishment. But the sensation of Simon's fingers so deep inside you leaves your mind blurred and you can only moan in moans and whispers of his name, urging him to continue, to give you more, to love you as intensely as you love him.

Your self of mere weeks ago would drag you away from the farmer, scolding you for this lack of decorum, this promiscuity.

But then you look into Simon's eyes, and you doubt which shines brighter; the love that overflows from his eyes or the moon that shines from the window.

"You are the most beautiful woman my eyes have ever had the grace to glimpse, my darling." He says suddenly, forcing you to tug at his shirt to crash your lips to his so he doesn't see your blush.

The man who is normally so stoic, perfectly cordial but not saying a word beyond the obligatory. Suddenly turned into a poet in your presence.

If it weren't for his broad fingers caressing that spot inside you that you didn't know existed and that has you swaying your hips to receive his every wrist movement, you would think beyond the now. Of how you will continue this without anyone knowing, how you will continue together when you know perfectly well that none of your families will allow it.

But not now, now all you can think about is how good Simon makes you feel and how you need him to give you more.

You find it impossible to ignore as Simon continues to move his hips against your side, the hardness of his crotch obvious and pressed against your thigh.

You lower your hand, feeling it's only fair to return the favour; but before you even reach the waistband of his pants, Simon takes your hand, raising it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

"Don't worry about it, love. I just want to make you feel good, don't worry about me." His lips travel up to your neck once more, leaving wet kisses and licking the spot that makes you cry harder.

There's a knot in the centre of your stomach, which becomes tighter and tighter as Simon continues to touch you. Your hand gripping his shirt squeezes tighter and tighter as the knot tightens.

Never before have you felt this sensation that has you with your face tight, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed and your lip between your teeth to prevent a scream from escaping.

This is futile when you feel the knot suddenly loosen, feeling as if your body is drained of energy. Biting your lip proves useless in preventing the moan that escapes your lips before Simon presses his hand over your mouth to prevent the entire village from hearing you.

His hand continues to move, slowing and slowly slipping out of you; the wet sound it emits as it leaves once again causing your cheeks to flush.

"Simon... Let's do it... You said it, why delay the inevitable." You say, repeating his words.

He again touches his lips to yours, letting your bodies speak when you are at a loss for words.

You notice him moving, sitting up to kneel between your legs. He lifts your dress, leaving you completely exposed to him with your legs wrapped around his wide hips.

Your glistering folds shine on the moonlight calling him in, but the pain on his groin makes him selfish enough to limit himself to free his hard shaft from his pants, slightly slapping your sweet cunt with it.

It makes your legs shake and a whimper to leave your lips, desperation flooding from you as your hand goes down between your legs. Simon can't help but stare as your inexpert hand finds his tip making his shudder when you press it against your wetness.

His hips move involuntarily pushing himself between your hand and your folds, making his moan your name. His hands lands on your hips, physically stopping himself from moving more against you knowing perfectly fine he wouldn't last long.

There are already beads of his milky seed threatening to spill from his tip, but it is your hand the one that slowly pushes him lower until it catches on your entrance making the both of you shudder.

He looks at you, catching you looking back at him; last chance to pull back. But your hand moves to his hip, silently urging him forward and he gladly complies.

He slowly pushes in, his length getting engulfed inch by inch into your warm cunt making him whine in unison with you. The stretch makes you hiss just for a second before the juices make it easy for him to move.

He moves back and forth torturously slow, entering inch by inch, moaning when he finally bottoms out. The two of you need a moment to adjust; you to the feeling of getting filled to the brim and him to the feeling on your tight muscles choking him in.

Simon is no stranger to the feeling of his callous hand around his length, already used to the constricting feeling; but never in a thousand years would it compare fairly to the feeling of you around him.

You clench around him, desperate for his movement; but it sends him to bend forwards, his hands resting beside your head. But then he comes face to face with the image of you sprawled under him.

Your legs spread to adjust to his wide hips between them, your folds just as spread to let his girth into your core, your soft hands resting on his ribs to feel him close, your hair messy resting on the hay, eyes half closed blinded by the lust, lips glistering with the mix of saliva from both and cheeks blushed as if by the cold of the morning.

He realises then and there that you are the only thing he needs to survive. That he will fight and kill God himself if he dares to try and pull you away from him, let alone a mere mortal. That he will love you for as long as you love him, and that when you stop doing it he will make you fall in love with him again. That he will travel to the deepest level of hell and back if Death feared to steal you from him.

His hips begin to move, making you arch your back when he finally does and it urges him to compose himself only to manage to feel you come undone around his length.

He has a clumsy rhythm to it, voluntary and involuntary thrust mixing together in a weird dance but still consistent enough to make you feel the knot on your stomach tighten again.

He feels it too, when you start to clench around his length. Softly crying his name as your hands move down to his thighs, urging him to move closer, deeper.

He sees how you close your eyes, head falling back with your mouth open in a silent cry with your wet cunt choking harder and harder his shaft, until you finally breathe out, a moan loud enough to awaken the dead from the tomb and wetness making his way around his length when you finally fall over the edge.

Simon barely has enough control to pull out, the first dribble of his milky sticky spent falling on your pubes before he spurt thick and heavy over your stomach; the change from you welcoming cunt to his dry hand almost keeping him from coming.

He looks down, his seed painting your body, marking you his, soft abdomen moving up and down with your difficulted breathing from the orgasm pulled from you.

“Do you really love me, Simon?” You suddenly ask, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The fear of the consequences finally setting in on your minds now that lust is no longer driving it.

“I do, love. I love you more than anything on this land.” He says, still breathless as he bends down to kiss you again.

Tomorrow, when you meet across the church; the two of you will act as if you didn't know each other. You will ignore the dull pain between your legs and he will ignore the pull of his pants when he remembers how pretty you looked under him.

Every other night the two of you will meet, back in the barn. Professing love and exploring each other's bodies.

And in a couple of months, when you come crying to him, holding onto his shirt; about how your father has told you that he is marrying you to another man. He will hug you, consoling you, and tell you to meet again two days later.

When he will arrive, in his father's cart being pulled by his two better horses; and the two of you will disappear from the village at the crack of dawn, never to be seen again.

In the village there were no more arguments between the families, both ashamed that they lost their kid to their stubbornness. That if instead of fighting they would have supported the two of you, they would have met their grandkids years later and the eternal fight between the families would have ended in a love story.

Instead, Simon and you settled down far away from the village. Where nobody knew where any of you were, and where everyone was told to address you as Mrs. Riley. Where you build your home and your family, and you both lived happily ever after

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Delicate part.3

Gwayne Hightower x reader

Description: Gwayne chips away at Y/N's wariness towards him through his gentlessness and considerate actions. They grow closer in friendship until she falls ill, prompting Gwayne to realise Y/N's company has become essential to him.

Writer's note: dedicating this to the mother of Gwaynism and an actual icon @just-some-random-blogger and the lovely @liafiction, you gave me so many ideas with your shopping list of Gwayne traits and I have to credit you 💚. Also crediting Victoria for writing the descriptions for this fic, as she's much better at it than I am.

Gwayne is the sweetest boy in this and would definitely make a great girl dad.

Warnings: female reader, asexual reader, touch averse reader, very fluffy, mention of periods.

Having passed a week in the company of her dear friend, Alicent's brother Gwayne, Y/N was surprised at how quickly they had formed a friendship. Her first interaction with him, when he had frightened her, had made her wary of him, assuming that he would be just as coarse and forward as other knights she had been forced to interact with at Court. When he had caught her in his arms and kissed her hand, she had unceremoniously pushed him away from her, finding such physical contact to be discomfiting. She had never been able to fully explain her aversion, even to herself. She knew only that such physical displays of gallantry from other knights made her uncomfortable, knowing as she did that they were usually considered to be a prelude to courtship and marriage, something she knew she did not want. Her anxiety on this front had only increased at her father’s frequent reminders that her sole purpose as a Lady of the Court was to bind their House in marriage to another powerful House. The thought of marriage and rearing children with any of the obnoxious lords she had encountered at Court left her feeling nauseated and panicked, a feeling she knew Alicent shared with her. Before Gwayne Hightower’s arrival at King’s Landing, she and Alicent had wiled away many an hour fantasising about living in Oldtown together, far from the suffocating expectations of their fathers and the Court.

She was more than a little surprised when she quickly found herself becoming nearly as comfortable in Gwayne's presence as in Alicent's, since he had proven himself to be a true gentleman and friend. Since the day of their meeting, he had never solicited physical contact with her, other than to subtly tilt his elbow in her direction or position his palm slightly towards her after first assisting his sister from a seated position. Whilst these gestures were so subtle as to be missed by others, Y/N's heart was warmed by these chivalrous attempts to offer her his assistance without embarrassing her by forcing her to verbally refuse them. She was, additionally, pleasantly surprised at his own silence on the matter, never appearing to take offence at her quiet rejections of his assistance, only continuing to smile at her and laugh with her with a gentleness and kindness that stirred a warm feeling in her heart towards him.

It was this consistent gentleness in his manner towards both his sister and herself that led her to take his free arm on the seventh day of their acquaintance, when he came to collect her with his sister holding his other arm. It was worth pushing herself out of her comfort zone just to see the pleasantly surprised faces of both of her friends. The soft expression Gwayne directed towards her, in particular, had her feeling simultaneously elated and nervous, in a way she hadn't felt before. As the three walked happily, side-by-side, through the grounds, Y/N felt a degree of contentment she had never felt in the presence of two people.

From that day on, she had continued to take Gwayne's arm and his hand when he offered it to her, surprising herself, even, at how natural it felt to do so. She had begun to really look forward to the routine the three had established. They would walk and read together, talking of their childhoods, their hopes and dreams, creating their own world away from that of the Court. Gwayne took an interest in every mundane detail of her life, personality and hopes for the future, gazing at her with the same degree of attentiveness, no matter the topic of their conversation. He wanted to know about all of her memories from her childhood, her favourite flower, sweet, and even colour. The way his eyes shone and his mouth upturned in a self-complacent smile when she answered him that her favourite colour was green had her feeling momentarily embarrassed when she realised that he may have thought her answer calculated, given that green was the colour of his House. He quickly allayed this fear, seeming to sense from her biting her lip and looking away from him that this might be the case, as he touched her hand comfortingly, drawing her gaze back to his.

“Is that so? I am most glad to hear it. We shall be quite the dashing trio then, at the opening banquet, all dressed in green.”

As he retracted his hand from hers, Y/N realised that she missed the comfort that she derived from the feel of his hand placed lightly on hers, a feeling she had only ever experienced with her late mother and with Alicent before. She tentatively began to envision a future which included her new friend, where the three could live in the comfort of one another’s company, without the imposition of Court life.

In the afternoon, the ladies would come to show their support for Gwayne at the training yard and Y/N could not deny that she was impressed by his prowess with the sword. More than that, she was struck by his willingness to embarrass himself just to amuse his sister and herself. This, combined with his enduring politeness towards the other knights’ condescension at his youth and inexperience as a knight, displayed a strength of character she had yet to encounter in the other knights of her acquaintance. His confident manner and quick retorts to their insults frequently had both ladies struggling to repress their laughter at the confusion of the knights on the receiving end of his quips. Despite his jesting nature, he was quick to sense if Y/N herself was embarrassed and to either turn the conversation to a different end or redirect Alicent and her jests towards himself.

On one such occasion, Y/N and Alicent were standing with Gwayne in the training yard, after he had finished his training for that day, laughing at the shock of the other knights at his defeats of them that day. Continuing their jest that the ladies would have to carry Gwayne’s sword for him, Y/N playfully attempted to take his sword from his grasp. Not accounting for the weight of it, she immediately dropped it, only just missing her own foot in the process.

Gwayne’s eyes had widened in alarm when Y/N snatched his sword from him and nearly hurt herself in the process, leading him to quickly grasp her elbows gently in his hands, lowering his head to examine her face for any signs of distress or injury.

His voice coming out panicked, he frantically asked, “are you harmed, my Lady?”

Y/N felt her face begin to burn furiously with embarrassment at her behaviour, as she stepped back from Gwayne.

“I am well, I apologise.”

Hearing her stutter an apology in response to his urgent enquiry into her welfare, Gwayne was relieved that she was unharmed. However, seeing the blush blooming on her cheeks, as she directed her gaze anywhere but on him, Gwayne sought to reduce her embarrassment.

He chased her eyes with his, offering her what he hoped was a comforting smile. He wanted her to always feel comfortable around him and, whilst her jest had left him fearing for her safety, he appreciated that she had become so comfortable in his presence to attempt it.

He quickly sought to make a joke of the incident which would make Y/N laugh at him, instead of berating herself.

“If Lady Y/N’s quick reflexes are any indication of her skill in combat I will have to watch myself, I fear, lest she ambush me when I am unaware.”

He rejoiced to hear her and Alicent laugh at this, as she turned to meet his gaze. Encouraged by her response, he continued.

“I do not know how I shall manage if both of you lovely ladies determine to strike me down together, I shall be thoroughly overcome.”

As his two favourite ladies broke out into laughter, and Y/N’s eyes glittered as she looked affectionately up at him, he found himself hoping, not for the first time, that a time would come when they could always be together like this.

Y/N woke up to the familiar pain of her monthly cycle, clutching her stomach as she turned over in bed. Every month she struggled to manage the pain and nausea she experienced during her cycle, and was left with no choice but to remain in her room whilst she waited for both to pass. On such occasions she even absconded from Alicent’s company. Alicent was accustomed to these period of absence, and would allow Y/N her space whilst she recovered, sometimes sending her treats or books which she thought might please or interest her.

Y/N remained in bed well past her usual time for rising and had missed breakfast with her father, something she was not sorry for, given that they usually passed their meal in strained silence. Holding her bedsheet over her head, she did not initially hear her maid enter the room until a gentle hand pulled the sheet down.

“My Lady, I am sorry to disturb your rest but Ser Gwayne Hightower and the Lady Alicent Hightower have enquired if you will be joining them on their walk today. Would you like me to help you dress?”

A feeling of embarrassment rose in Y/N as she imagined her two friends waiting for her at the door of her apartments and she frantically rose to begin dressing, before a sharp pain in her abdomen had her falling back onto the bed. A moment passed before she was able to address her maid.

“Thank you, Lilah. Please could you inform Ser Gwayne and Lady Alicent that I am indisposed and will not be able to join them today. Please offer them my sincerest apologies and wish them a pleasant day. That will be all.”

Regretting that she would be unable to rejoin her friends, and wishing that she did not have to make such a feeble excuse, Y/N quickly sought the comfort of the covers, once again, as her maid left the room. Whilst she knew that Alicent would be aware of her condition from her excuse, she was unable to suppress the feeling of embarrassment at the potential of Gwayne knowing of it and thinking her weak. With this unpleasant thought turning in her mind, she struggled to find the repose which she so sorely needed.

Gwayne was unable to conceal the eagerness with which he looked up as a door within Lady Y/N’s apartment’s closed and he heard the tread of footsteps, looking up in anticipation of the lovely lady whose company had grown to be so essential to him so quickly over the course of the last two weeks. He was disappointed and concerned, however, when, instead of his lady, her maid reappeared to inform them that the lady in question was indisposed and would not be joining them.

Gwayne’s expression fell immediately, stricken with concern.

“Is the lady very unwell? Is there anything we could get her that might be of any help?”

Looking uneasily between Gwayne and Alicent, the maid seemed to struggle to give him an adequate response.

Seeing her flounder, and realising that she was probably trying to conceal the real reason for Y/N’s indisposition, Alicent thanked the maid, before pulling on Gwayne’s arm to lead him from Y/N’s apartments.

Turning to his sister in confusion, he was met with Alicent’s stern gaze.

“Don’t make a nuisance of yourself Gwayne, can’t you see that the poor maid was struggling to provide you with an answer.”

Reproaching himself with having made the maid uncomfortable in his concern for Y/N, he slightly lowered his head.

“I am sorry for it, but does it not concern you that Lady Y/N should be unwell. I only wondered if I might be able to procure something that might alleviate her symptoms.”

Patting her brother’s shoulder affectionately at his chivalrous nature, Alicent met his gaze.

“She will be quite well in a few days, you know that mother and I have often found ourselves similarly indisposed at certain times throughout the month.”

A look of realisation and concern passed over Gwayne’s face at this. Growing up in the company of his sister, Gwayne was no stranger to the symptoms she experienced during her monthly cycles, and would often read to her, her head on his lap, to help take her mind off them. He would bring her and their mother, when she still lived, their favourite sweets, almond cakes, and make up poultices of heated stones to ease their pain for them, after first checking that the stones were not too hot. Gwayne disliked seeing either his mother or his sister in pain and sought to alleviate their suffering in any way he could, or to at least provide a comforting shoulder to lean upon. He found his own father’s apathy towards the suffering of his wife and daughter to be a source of disgust and disbelief, and could not have anticipated Y/N being embarrassed at the thought of him being aware of the reason for her condition. His mind turned quickly now to whether he could send Y/N anything to ease her symptoms, finding that the thought of her experiencing any pain caused a pain of his own to tighten within his chest.

Turning to gaze down at his sister, Gwayne’s mouth upturned in a conspiratorial smile.

“I think that we should direct our walk towards the kitchens today, Sister. I wonder if they have any of those almond cakes you adore so much.”

Realising what he was planning, their thoughts always so in-tune with each other, Alicent tapped his cheek affectionately before entangling her arm with his, as they made their way through the lower levels of the Keep, towards the kitchens.

A knock at her chamber door at around noon, had Y/N raising her head slightly to call for the person on the other side to enter. Seeing her maid enter the room with a tray, a puzzled expression made its way onto Y/N’s face, given that her father would never normally send anything up to her on such occasions. As her maid brought the tray further towards her bed, she spotted a small bouquet of her favourite flowers, gardenias, tied together with a green ribbon, as well as a hot poultice, wrapped in a cloth, and a plate of almond cakes.

Y/N instantly recognised the ribbon to be Alicent’s, and realised that the tray must have been sent by her, especially since almond cakes happened to be both of their favourite desserts. A small, leatherbound volume on a period of history she had expressed an interest in learning more about to Gwayne, was also carefully placed underneath the bouquet on the tray, beside a note.

Thanking her maid for the tray, as she left the room, Y/N reached for the parchment first.

My Dear Lady,

Please accept these humble offerings of our concern for your welfare and swift recovery, in the hopes that they will be of interest or comfort to you. I happened across a bushel of these lovely flowers and thought of you, knowing them to be your favourite, and I thought that this volume might be what you were looking for in the library.

I do hope you enjoy the cakes. I have it on good authority, that authority being my dear sister’s, that they are a remedy to solve all ills. So insistent was she upon their effectiveness, that I am afraid I have made a poor impression of myself upon the cook, as she half chased me from her kitchens after she found me scavenging for them. I shall leave you with the image of your knight being felled by a saucepan, as I know only too well how much that would amuse you.

Please do rest well and let us know when you are better, or else I am sure to wither away in sorrow from your absence, and then I really shall not be able to lift my sword at the coming tourney. I will only have you to blame if such is the case.

With the fate of your knight at stake, please do take care.

Yours most faithfully,

Gwayne

Y/N found her heart swelling and her eyes watering the more she read of Gwayne’s letter, so grateful was she for the concern that both of her friends had for her, when she was so unaccustomed to receiving it in her own home. She could not supress a laugh at the thought of Gwayne, who was really very skilled with a sword, being felled by a saucepan, wielded by a belligerent cook.

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[cutieeva]

Snow and Rose

𝐅𝐚𝐧��𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 Female reader

Warnings : Murders. Violence.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

❛ 愛 ❜

He was filthy. Made to be discard and dislike and disgust hence the reason he even did not dare utter the pure words of love to the one he grew to not dislike however it all changed when he saved a woman. An peculiar one with taste of adressing herself as a snow and him, a disfigured man—rose

It was the first night of the winter. Crimson petal of rose slowly fell atop of the untainted white snow. To be honest the blush fall on the snow looked breathtaking. So beautifully vast yet together by nature almost seem like the destiny also choose in the harshest winter will bear the most adored rose to be seen.

The first time she saw them, it was unsuited together yet now if this was her last image of the world's beauty before withering away. She is thankful enough, smiling under the cold whiteness where she lay, drenched in her blood surround her and pain numb little by little. Now that her vision fading she wish to indulged the nature of destiny more. She wish to find her own rose in the snow, a lover she meant and perhaps children too. ? How odd of her to even question of her own wish to bear children when she knows no rose is there for her.

As the roses always wirther, unsuited to the snow like she thought, no one likes snow. Even those who believed to like only do for few weeks, months not years, certainly not decades.

Snow as beautiful is cold, far cold she realize after embracing in the ground, blush of her skin drying and tears gather to flow silently.

How she wished to see the sunrise for the last time. One last time before passing to void of nothing, she knew heaven and hell were only words for fear to do good despite being surround by hell. One last tear roll down as she embrace the death when a crunch of foot earned her sight.

Eyes rolling to see the demon, the culprit of her death towering surprise to feel the drop of crimson. Not one from the rose petal rather of blood along stench of someone's death coloring the sliver sword he holds. He who is not the demon her mind knows at least, however an stranger wrapped in black cloth like the void of night and white cloth wrap around his mouth with snake rest upon his neck. His eyes, Unusual she ever seen one teal and another yellow.

His gaze bore at her, laying on the snow and blood circle around her like an painting of death with petals of rose fallen near her forehead almost seem like an crown of farewell flowers. She looks utterly and hauntingly beautiful he is afraid to say the rose suit her with the snow. Even her tears of sorrow paint her beautiful. His eyes locked on those (E/C) eyes that he forgot it's close and pale hue cover her entirity.

Like a bleak of a man his knee bend down, fingers almost curl refuse to taint the body by brushing his filthy touch yet with gentle he never grace one with did he hold her, cold sweep into his warmth and her body in his hand vulnerably he embrace her clothed part more to begin walking the path of his home where many also lives.

Pain greet her awake, her sight met with the white ceiling of a house than the void of nothing she expected. The pain in her body told her the answer of her life. She is alive and the beautiful nature of rose met snow was not her last image of mother earth's beauty nor the man she viewed.

The man in question is none where to seen when the door slide open stand a beautiful woman, smiling gently. "She must like butterfly". (Y/N) judged from the hair pin of butterfly to her dress print.

"Ara, Ara, you are awake. I see". (Y/N) bow to the woman despite the pain in her stomach yet her face remain unchanged. Stoic as before. "Do not distress yourself further. I fear your present state is one of considerable pain." The woman came closer to find indeed the blood taint the white again.

(Y/N) apologize softly.

"No apologies necessary, I assure you." Her laugh was melodies that the man almost slip her mind.

"Oh. A man, with snake around his neck ?" She continue, her eyes as if reliving the time. "Have you seen him ?" The actions of that woman's hand pause and staring at those purple eyes oddly seem empty and lost.

"I do. He is one of the demon slayers". Strange words. Demon slayers and demons. Both belonged to monstrous fairytales she never liked to read and now very real to see, one was eater almost pushed her to the edge of life and another an savior, retrieve her life yet both interwoven with one another.

"Oh. Would you be so kind as to inform me of his whereabouts, that I may pay my respects ?" The woman stare at (Y/N). No human she ever seen so indifferent to the word demon. One must bear some hatred or kindness or any emotions linked. Never indifference. Perhaps the lack is what present her so different however naïve to the laws of world.

"You may, he will be found next door, precisely where the wounded gentlemen resides." Her finger point to near the door of (Y/N)'s right and she nod.

"Thank you". She stood to the woman's surprise and walk with difficulty to the next door, sliding open to find three young lads on the bed with another beautiful woman with pink hair and that man. That man's soften gaze saw her bend her body to bow and utter the words she truly felt from the core of her heart.

"Thank you for saving me" . The tone and the face remained unchanged however those eyes he notice was pure, clearance with courage Obanai swears. Courage he won't be rewarded, not with the blood in his veins.

"It was my duty". He replied, turning away from her and she left quietly. All were too suprise to intervene the tight tension darting from the unknown to the cold demon slayer. He who thought their first words exchange to be the last.

However here she is, sitting beside Tanjiro, applying herbs like the gentle caress of a mother to his wounds he receive from Obanai during their period of training. A furrow appear in his brows, why is she here ? His eyes slide to the stomach cover by her cloth and by movements of her body she appears to be healthy.

Soon he learnt after she recovered did she request to dedicate herself to nursing she was by experience and Shindou welcomed her. What a play of destiny he thought watching intently how with unchanged poise she clean one gruesome wound than previous.

"How calm". He wonders, how can a woman be so devoid of expression ? Even Shinobu plaster a smile and here she is, and was at her last breath crafted the same expression.

"I offer my sincerest gratitude, your expertise is truly remarkable." Tanjior in his cherry voice smiled large and she returned only with a nod. He narrow his eyes, was she also poise in front of the culprit of her death ? Or did she cried, begged or perhaps— .

"The gentleman is cleared to depart." Her words directly to the older demon slayer and he nod, averting gaze with someone first because of how unashamed they were. He took him alongside and wish to never view her.

What a foolish thing to pray when she is at his each sight. One time brooming with the little girls despite them playing, laughing and joining her hands to round each other she only played along unchanged as if her soul was not present while her body was.

Another time dusting and cleaning the injury manor and he was there, yet not once she glanced or tries to word with him. Not that he desired so rather finding her like an puzzle. So locked unlike Mitsuri who is like the sun, bright and bathed in pureness and free like an open book he can read. Even that butterfly demon slayer seem easier to understand than she. A lady with unfamiliar origin, name he didn't care to learn and expression never change.

Upon another occasion, a youthful trainee, gravely injured, was brought forth, his face snarl in pain and half his form scorched by the ravages of fire yet she didn't so little flinch. She beheld the charred flesh, and with unflinching resolve, set about healing the wounds. It made him wonder again would she grasp, be horrified or pity the demon slayer if she shown her the scar in his— shaking such filthy words, he walked down that time.

"(Y/N) hurry, the Serpent Hashira and the Wind Hashira needs help !" She pause in her hurried steps. Her savior was in need and the thought to return the debt come to her mind. Her feet went to the room watching the two strongest demon slayers swallowing pain as they lay on the bed. "One of the demons poisoned them so the little wounds are deadly".

Her trembling hands took the medicines and herbs, as being advised she about to touch the Serpent Hashira, he wield his sharp sword to her chin, little inches away and his snake hiss. "Don't come near me". His words tender yet the sentences chilling sharp and she can not help ponder why.

"What ? we don't have male—".

"Let me do my own". He cut the argue he finds not needed.

"However you have no knowle—". Kanao tries to change his mind for good.

"I can!" he asserted, the crimson-tinted the binding around his mouth and voice bending into whisper with his pale skin whiter. (Y/N) is afraid the poison rushing faster.

"By all means, proceed. But heed my caution: observe my movements, then replicate, lest harm ensues. Do you understood ?" Obanai who never thought her to spoke nod and took the medicines and clothes. (Y/N) note the wounds are in his arm, thigh and shoulder thus she walk beside him to another silent room—she assume his room and sat, turning face away to hear the shuffles of clothes unraveling and she begin to show on her clothed body while he remain silent, save for the occasionally groans and strainted huffs.

"Completed". She nod and he finally turn his eyes at her back, wondering why she is unmoved.

"May I see your work, that I might judge its merit ?" She hoped to have yes however deep inside the answer was spoken in silent already.

"No". No. As she expected and nod to maneuver towards his clothed self and about to stand at her feet when Obanai narrow his eyes in displease. That expression and lack of words. Always of few words, indifference and unafraid. All of the qualities he wished he had within himself. Indifference of other's eyes, unafraid of the past and courageous.

Implused by his deranged thoughts and in daze of his wound. "Would you be scared of this ?" Uncaring he rip the binding of his mouth, the cool breeze brush against the dreadful scar that is still fresh in his memory. His eyes close like the binding was a relieve of pain however he waited. For a strangling scream, disgust grasp, pity words or anything. Save for the errie silence.

Each muscle of his body tense at the feel of an soft touch at the corner of his lips and his hand shoot up holding her wrist and eyes wide to be face at her expression. And indeed it was not in vain.

Alas, the rosy flush that painted her entire visage, and the demure shimmer in those crystalline eyes, told a tale he had not expected to behold. Even her skin blushed from his touch alone.

A hatred twist his inside as he swing her hand and yelled harsh. "Get out !" She flinch and run out. His head buried in his palm, he did not intent to yell, however what could he had done if that bewitching woman's expression did not just brew a hope in his heart. A hope no one did and he himself dare not aknowledge.

"What was that ?" Bewildered he erased her image of blush.

He must have frighten her because the few days later she was none of his sight and it was unknown how he felt so he walked to his room when the moon's shine lighten on the letter slide to the gap of the door. His finger touch the paper and read. 'To the respected Serpent Hashira. From (L/N) (Y/N).'

An name he is unfamiliar could only belonged to that woman. "(Y/N)". The name roll down his flesh, sounding hauntingly pleasant. He grip the paper hard and went inside. First he sit and grab the candle near the paper he almost wish to burn, not read any words behind the paper. Still his curiosity drive him to open and unfold the smooth lines of paper.

'You might have forgetten what had occur to the day of your injury yet I do not and thus the letter was crafted, whether view it as an unworthful letter or cowardly one, it's your choice however I won't delay your time and say the words I had not courage to utter in front of you that the scar you showed me was in my view an scar of loathe, pain and sorrow of the past because the way it's craved could not be done willingly—' Obanai turn away from the paper, unwelcomed memories slit his mind and fill his vision.

"Useless". He deemed the paper and the fire of the candle so close however something, perhaps hope convince him to read further.

"My intention was not to recall your unpleasant memories however I had to because the next words I say might desire you to kill me even hate me I fear, because your wound blossoms red like the petals of rose, breathtakingly beautiful, so beautiful that I was mesmerized. I am wretched for holding dear and falling in love with the sorrow you might have, the very thing I am in love is the one you hate, so please it's not a letter of forgiveness because do not forgive me. Do not forgive me ever".

His hand fell limp as fingers still grip on the paper become tighter than ever and the candle's light illuminate his fiery blush face and the glistening rims of his eyes betrayed a depth of feeling he could hardly grasp.

"Is it not a confession ?" His other palm cover his face and brush upon the binding that for the first time did not evoke feelings of revulsion and disgust rather sentiments he had not felt for anyone, not even the love Hashira. Because the unpleasant memories dissipated the moment his scar made contact, replaced by her passion words, which floated in his vision like ethereal whispers. 

At the early rise of the sun Obanai ran to the butterfly manor to find her not Kanon who raise a eyebrow and continue her duty.

"Might I inquire as to the present location of Miss (L/N) ?" His question made her confuse before sighing.

"Good heavens! You haven't heard ? She resigned, having met my elder sister in person and left a letter for us all, though, alas, it reveals nothing of her destination." Her voice somber reflections on the departure of the benevolent lady, whom she had not had the opportunity to bid farewell, a circumstance that pained her, much like her sister.

The words save for the resigned tune out. The sounds distant and dishonest. H-how could it ? How could it be ? When she confessed her love merely yesterday ? "The letter ? May I see it ?" She hand over the paper he unfold to read and yes, it's her farewell for eternal. How cruel, she left. He almost threw the paper in fit of rage but he knew better and did not.

She is one cowardly woman he ever met.

☯

A red rose.

The first single rose appear at (Y/N)'s doorstep was few weeks later she moved from the demon slayer's corps to a small village little further from the branch and the house she stay was bearable and decent food was nearby to attend. The real reason she left was due to the passion confession her heart forced her hand to give however when she comes to realize the man she was giving and his profession was, she decide to separate herself.

Because the man would never love her back and his profession was oath to death, no sense of life was guaranteed and she swears the heartbreak of future could not stitch the patchs of broken heart.

From childhood she watched her mother obedient like a pet to her father and never replied back and his father always remained gentleman and cold. Very different than the fairytales she dislike yet reads for the sake of befriending others.

Soon growing up she realize because of the unspoken law of marriage. A wife is a doll of his husband who married for the sake of duty. They were not in love instead tied down in duty where she, the child was a bond they had to create by society's pressure and sheding her innocence to adulthood, it's her time to take the role of doll for someone else.

And at first few men did choose her, some even confess their love but after few months they left, giving the ring of their betrothed away.

"Your demeanor is as frigid as the grave. How might I be expected to harbor affection for one so seemingly devoid of vitality?"

"(Y/N), I must confess, it pains me to consider the possibility that you do not return my ardent affections. Your demeanor suggests a certain...indifference towards me."

"Miss (L/N), though I have always held your beauty in the highest esteem and affection however our spent time leads my heart yearns for a deeper connection. I confess, I covet a love that stems from genuine attachment, not mere obligation."

"If your heart truly beats for mine, then demonstrate your affection through tender compassion ! Speak words of endearment, that I might be assured of your love !"

Some were good, some were spoiled and some greedy yet what common in them was their speech of words of how cold she is and like snow she is beautifully admired—not loved. To be honest she hated all the men that left her, even if some were really good she loathe them. Why ? Because none tried to know the dept of her love for them because she did love them, each and every one of them. Yes ! not as deep as the love of Zhi Nü for Niu Lang. Still she did, what she couldn't was to express them. She simply does not know. Words were not easy to utter as she wanted and affections never surface properly.

Also their love was not worth if they left so easily leading her to become spinster and out of roof as for her family's reputation she was a staint so she left, no cries, pleads or any attachment. What prevails her is that quiet tears still roll down.

Leading her at the first night to encounter a hungry demon and that man, she for and realize after viewing his scar. He awoke a whole world inside her she was hidden from and now she can not help wonder if she had known him better could she bear courage to court him.

Red rose on top of the snow. Her sight snap to the ruby hue and turn to the vase inside the house already had seven more red rose rest. Adding this will be seven. It's strange no one comes to mind who would give her flowers like a secret admirer. Like confessing secret love to her.

With steps that softly crunched above the winter's white blanket, she approached the flower, its beauty unmarred by frost's chill grasp. Her fingers enveloped its slender stem free of thorns. The rose errierly remind her of him. His beauty of an rose and sharp gaze of thorn to protect. Perhaps thus she collect the roses.

☯

Slap !

Embracing her new role as a cleaning worker in the village proved daunting for her. As both a woman and alone seen beneath of men after all.

"Your defiance has cost us dearly. You should have layed your body at the customer's whims equals to a king's demands, were left unfulfilled. Your stubbornness has turned gold to dust. You ungrateful witch !" The pain at her cheek throb and she lowered her head, choosing silence, closing eyes to feel the next and next until the wife of the owner hold his hand.

"Oh dearie, this is a noodle shop. Not a brothel, what she had done is right because imagine rumors spreading of our humble restaurant turning into selling women. How bad is it not ?" His wife in tender voice trap him in sprouts of nonsense and he, halting and debating the words.

(Y/N) gratitude the lady in mind and caught sign of her hand twisting towards exit. "Go out". With eyes darting in secretion (Y/N) bow to her and quietly walked away from the unfair abuse and her night shift.

☯

Chirps of bird and noise of hens awake her and ignoring the ache in her cheeks she walk to the door and her eyes wide and mind in confusion.

She blink once, twice and slowly, very slowly walk on the snow to the center where a folded man's cloth is layed above blood with a rose on the side. The eighth rose. Her (E/C) eyes stare at the cloth for moments before walking to the noodle owner's house that is few walks away and not long a cry of agony rip out.

Her walk slow down and she watched the crowd form and the wife's cries in her corpse husband's body that is naked and blood sweeping from the stabs in his stomach and dried blood from the hole of his either cheeks. Pity bleed within (Y/N) for the newly widow— not the man. He deserved it and a happiness bloom thinking how length of love her secret admirer bear.

She went to her yard again and the cloth vanish and blood buried leaving the rose and a letter. "Was he here ?" A shiver ran her spine, glancing around to spot only to be failed and she read the letter.

'I am not good with words however what I am good is at welding swords and that man deserve equally as the demon heads' Demons. Holding the rose at one and letter at another, finally one man comes to her mind. The serpent demon slayer.

And she is unaware what to do and if her thought is even true.

☯

"Leave me !" (Y/N) yelled to the previous customer of the noodle shop who she was beated for and now tormenting her at night of street. "I said leave me !" She screamed attracting heads of the crowd letting the man loose his grip and her chance to escape.

Ninth rose lay beside the cloth of a man painted in blood. She walked out of her yard at the early morning and roam to find his body calmly and the crowd forming told her already. She close the gap, catching glimpse of his naked body layed to be humiliated and stabs in his stomach and holes on his palms where the man grip her by.

And as she expected when she return to her yard, the cloth was erased, blood buried and rose with letter repeating the same words.

☯

"It must be you ! You wretched woman, you got my husband killed ! After being bewitched by you, was he killed ! It must be you". The wife of the man yesterday murdered she was not even aware married came to her doorstep at midnight, screaming and throwing scornful words she does not like.

"I do not, mam". Calmly and unchanged she answered, attempt at closing the door she mistake to open and when the wife caught hint of that, (Y/N) felt a rush of coldness at her face. Numb snow cold her warm body as (Y/N) part her lips to say she was thrown more snow and more and more.

Until a wet slick sound and sudden stop of snow lead her head to turn meeting the scene of a sliver sword pierced the wife's stomach and glide back gushing blood and her body limp at once revealing Obanai, the serpent hashira standing with a blank expression and when met with (Y/N)'s, did it sparkle the beauty of emotions.

Her eyes also saw in his another hand holding the rose. Tenth rose. "At the tenth rose I decided to finally meet you". Loudly he confessed. Both to being the secret admirer and the murderer however not a hint of fear he felt not because he considerate himself powerful rather at the mercy of her love. While he thought he loved the love Hashira, (Y/N) mold the very love to him. While the love hashira was the shining sun, pure and out of his reach stem from pure respect, (Y/N) plant the seed of love from the mere words of his scar he loathe, she turn the hatred and self-disgust of the scar marred his skin into a memory of their sweet love. With the words of her and blushful image of her touched his corner lips brew him the feel of worthy to loved and love. She made him feel human.

Now at each touch of his mouth, rather than ashamed and scared did his heart skip beats at her face, at each touch of his mouth reminds him of her words. The confession of her yearning and passion he never received from one before and she graced him so deep, he could not help fall deeper, running to every village from small to huge at search of her and when found the relieve of bliss remind him once again how unable of her he has no life of his own anymore.

"Forgive me, Miss (L/N). I could not force you to my will defying yours so all I could do was remove the obstacles and wait for your return to me as I have fallen for you deeply". At each step closer to her he said each word and finishing he give her the rose, waiting to see her accepting or throwing.

Fear gripped his heart to be honest a little— no, a lot, the fear of rejection from the woman he holds dearly to his heart will crush him however he will wait, as long as needed and continue removing the filth from her life. Flith that forced his hand and deserved to be united with the demons.

Oh, how sweet. (Y/N) couldn't believe. A man who go length beyond for her and love her to the end without leaving is an heaven. Even more when it's the same man she did not even dare dream of loving her back holding rose for her and bloody sword to others.

How could she resist such love. An love scary and undeserving at other's view is her everything.

Her finger grasp the rose and lean forward to press a kiss the man above his binding who's those unusual beautiful eyes wide only to soften. Her lips parted and said. "Forgive me not I am in love with you".

"Forgiven because I am in too". He returned blooming a smile on her lips. Language of love she heard once, love that not only utter from words alone however also from actions of service for their love. Perhaps this man has that.

FIN

𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 ◸◜𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 ◞◿

[writing-makes-me-human]

Hi if your still taking requests the can I ask for an aged up story about reader x neteyam or Reader x Ao’nung fic where they are in a secret relationship and an altercation happens between their families and during it or after it is revealed that the reader is pregnant (no smut if ur uncomfortable with it) thus revealing their relationship. Plz hurt comfort is my genre as of late.

The reader is a Sully kid if it’s reader x Ao’nung and if it’s x Neteyam then she is Ronal and Tonowari child.

Of course, you ask for it and you must have it! I love this idea! I hope you like it and maybe I'll do a part two where we continue with the dinner?? We shall see if people enjoy it! (Also I did not take the Sully kid into consideration so I'm sorry if that shows)

I named it: Secret Families

Ps: Thank you for your support!

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

Pairing: Aonung x reader

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is my second post of the week so we shall see you next week. Thank you all for your support. I'm setting up tag lists for the x reader series now so if you want to be part of my avatar x reader tag list, reach out, don't be scared! <3

Ronal was a suspicious woman; not much went under her radar for very long, and her children knew that, yet they still did everything they could to keep their little secrets under wraps.

Aonung was no different, well apart from the fact that the nature of his secret would have had more severe repercussions than any profound dark secret his sister was harboring.

To the clan, you and Aonung were the worst enemies since a young age. They all thought that Aonung had  matured dramatically over the years to prepare himself for the role of Olo'eyktan. Still, they thought he still hadn't managed to put out the petty fire you ignited in him whenever you walked past with your usual saunter, making him want to roll his eyes so hard they fell out of his head.

But in private, far beyond the gaze of curious eyes, you two were mates before the great mother in an immortal bond with one another.

The only people who knew about your relationship were yourselves, and while a few amongst your friends had suspicions that you two had feelings for each other, none of them knew how deep the feelings went.

One afternoon after you finished all your required chores for Ronal, who was training you to be a healer, she invited you to dinner the following evening. You nervously agreed while trying not to register any red flags to her attention as you quickly excused yourself so you could get home to your pod before nightfall.

As you wandered back to your quarters, your mind returned to an anxiety that had popped up a few weeks ago, slowly turning from an obsessed overthought to a life-changing reality.

You were pregnant.

You had been a few weeks late on your cycle, so when Ronal left to give her mate his lunch, you quickly ran a test, and it came back with all the signs for positive.

As soon as the herbal mixture had turned a soft blue which confirmed your doubts, a million questions raced through your mind, and now that you had time alone, you dug back into the pile with fresh eyes.

How would you tell Aonung? He had never mentioned wanting kids, as you were both so young. He hadn't even become chief yet, so you highly doubted he wanted to settle down and start a family just yet. He would surely take the news badly.

Would you keep it? You were still at a stage where you knew a few herbal concoctions that would abort the embryo from your system, and you could do so without telling anyone. It would be like it never happened.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you crashed into a solid chest, you stumbled back a bit, but two hands gripped your forearms to steady you.

You looked up, and as if he had heard your thoughts and come running to speak with you, Aonung was there with his usual smirk. He restrained himself to only give you in private.

"What's the rush, servant girl?" He asked while using the affectionate nickname he had given to you years ago from the job that required you to spend a lot of time running after his mother without questioning her.

Usually, you would have smirked at him and spat out an insult, but instead, you could feel the anxiety clog your throat, and you stuck your thumb between your teeth, nervously nibbling on it to stop the gasps of air you knew you would let out without the block.

His comedic attitude dropped, and he immediately dropped his height a little to try and look into your eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?" His voice was quiet and soft as his eyes darted around to make sure nobody was around so he could quickly pull you to his chest.

You didn't know the tears had formed in your eyes until Aonung noticed them slipping down your cheeks and pulled you into his cradle arms to silence you like a small child.

"You know my mother doesn't mean anything she says when she's angry!" His only logical conclusion as to why you could be crying on your way back from work was that it must have been his mother's temper.

Ronal had a tendency to slip up and call you some variation of 'incompetent' as she had done in the past to previous students.

"It's not that", you huffed as you hopelessly wiped one side of your face with your hand to try and rub away the tears.

"I have to talk to you about something", you whispered, still unable to believe what was currently growing in your womb. You pulled back from Aonung and watched as his face fell a bit.

Immediately his mind spiraled to think of the worst possibilities that could have happened. Had you been attacked? Were you sick? Had someone been hurt? Did someone find out about you two and not take it well?

As you saw him flicker from each of your eyes with a hurricane of unanswered questions brewing in his mind, you simply nodded toward your pod at the end of the pathway and led him to speak privately.

He ran after you and quickly unrolled the sail above your door so he could speak without fear of being overheard and having to deal with the emotional crisis of another person.

He watched you pace a hole in the floor for a few seconds, and then you turned sharply and pointed to the floor.

"I think it's best if you sit down", you could feel the air thicken as he resentfully took a seat on one knee while he leaned on the other.

The climate was humid and you could almost feel your mate's brain churning to keep up with his theories.

He was staring at you with his lisp pursed in confusion as you felt more tears form as you started pacing in front of him again.

You were terrified. Starting a family was a huge deal, and it took a lot of commitment, and you knew that with Aonung, you could raise a family together, but that was a fantasy you had toyed around with. Aonung would think it was too soon; you just knew it.

'He is your mate, and he will understand' your mind replayed the statement a few times when you felt like you were about to be crushed by a tsunami of doubt and indecision.

"Ma woman, you are scaring me. What is it?" His voice was soft, but you could tell by the way his hands were clenching into fists on his knee that he was worried for you.

"Aonung", you turned to him once more, letting the tears fall because you knew if you brushed them away, they would just be replaced by new ones. You wrung your hands out in each other, trying to find an outlet for your frustration.

"Promise me you won't be mad, we can talk about this, and we have plenty of options", you held out your hands in front of you to reimburse your statement with a miserable attempt at showing a strong front.

Aonung struck forward like a snake and grabbed your hands before returning to his previous posture. You felt his finger rub a circle over the back of your hand then his warm lips pressed themselves against your knuckles for a moment to let you gather yourself.

"I promise. Now tell me what happened. Has someone done something to you?" His protective flare couldn't help but be shown as your hands trembled in his.

You wanted to laugh at the awkward joke you could have made about the fact it was him who had done something to you, but you knew it was your brain trying to distract from the fear of letting the words spill into your real life because once you said these words you couldn't take them back.

"No, nothing like that…" You looked into his eyes, and everything felt so perfect at that moment, with you two basking in each other's company.

You thought back to the early days of your relationship and the nights you had spent together rendezvoused, visiting places you shouldn't have while cracking jokes. Aonung's eyes widened as you took deep breaths. Your daydreams then drifted to your daily shared glances behind people back's that had been filled with so much adoration. You couldn't stand to see that jeopardized.

"Your mother invited me to dinner tomorrow night", you felt the words claw out of your throat in battle with your mind that begged you to tell the truth but you weren't strong enough to tell him the news.

"Well, that's okay. She always does that to her students; why are you crying?" He was now utterly confused about why the dinner invite had caused such a visceral emotional outburst.

Your lips parted in bemusement as you tried to concoct a plausible reason as to why you would be so distressed.

"It was just a hard day", you slipped your hands from his grip, up his forearms, and slid onto your knees so he could hold you as you took deep breaths to get your bearings.

He pets your hair and gently shushes you while rocking back and forth. You clenched onto him and allowed yourself to be selfish for the moment, and you let his comfort about your decision to keep the secret from him wash over you.

You knew he wasn't convinced that what you said was a complete truth but he didn't push you any further on the matter, and you were very thankful for that.

You knew you would have to tell him eventually. Hiding a pregnancy could only go on for so long, but you decided you would give yourself a week to at least get yourself to a mental place where you could say the words aloud without having a fear of Aonung's rejection claw its way out.

Now all you had left to prepare your head for was dinner at Ronal and Tonowari's pod tomorrow.

The next day flew by all too quickly. The whole time, you felt Ronal's eyes on you as you rushed every chore that had to be done in her presence for fear you would crack or, worse, she would somehow sense your new medical condition.

You worked as quickly as possible, and when Ronal could find nothing left for you to do, she sent you home early and ordered you to prepare for the meal she would be hosting later that evening. So, you rushed home with the thoughts of your womb and the offering for your hosts that needed to be perfected, consuming your mind.

You brushed your hair and clipped on your finest bracelets and your most firm-fitting necklace, but nothing seemed to be able to be just right, and all you could think about was Aonung.

He had to be the first to know, it would only be fair, but you couldn't tell him, and you needed to speak with someone about it because this secret was eating you from the inside out.

"Hey", Aonung's voice made you jump, and you turned on the balls of your feet to see it was your mate, armed with his spear in hand, still damp from his hunting trip.

"What are you doing here!" You hissed as you pressed your hand against your heart, begging it to calm down.

Everything had you on edge; his presence only made your soul cry out with humiliation. He knew you were lying to him about something, yet he still tried to be there for you.

"Relax, everyone's gone home for dinner. I wanted to come to talk to you about something", he stepped further into your pod and closed the flap again, making sure you saw his eye-roll that teased your anxiety about being caught.

Your heart was beating so fast that it could have powered a storm, but you nodded with a nervous nip at your lip and allowed him to step closer to you.

Aonung's presence was consuming and sent a wave of peace over you as his touch gently caressed your face with one hand while the other slowly came to your waist and brushed against your stomach on its way to rest on your hip, which made your gaze turn white for a second as the fear swaddled you tightly.

He knew! He had to have found out from his mother. Of course, she would have known; she is Tsahik! She would have taken one look at your body and asked her son if you were mated with anybody, and Aonung would have fit two and two together.

"I want to tell my parent's about us tonight, after dinner", He slid his head into the side of your neck and kissed it softly. His sweet care for you, that often could have drowned you, was now suffocating.

"Okay", you managed to whimper out. He must know. Was it a fluke brush of his hand?

This was something he wanted, and you would do it. Maybe if you started out small with an announcement of your relationship, another announcement of a child wouldn't take such a toll on you.

"What is wrong? If you do not want to tell them, we can wait," he pulled back from you, his hands dropping to his sides. Your strange act confused him, you were always so outspoken, and he wondered why you had suddenly become so meek.

He knew something was misplaced in your relationship, and he would have left you to stew in your thoughts if it wasn't for the fact that you were starting to worry him with the way your body was handling the stress.

You had been skittish all yesterday evening, and he was worried. You seemed so pale and sickly. His mother had come up to him this afternoon and asked if he could go lightly with the playful teasing at dinner tonight as you were looking fragile, and it confined his doubts that something was grievously wrong.

"No, It's not that, I just can't tell you", you whispered, turning away from him to busy yourself with picking out a hairpiece to curl into your hair.

"You can tell me anything, ma y/n. I am your mate, and we are one", he pushed himself in front of you and grabbed your hands, so you were forced to look him in the eye.

He desperately tried to hold eye contact with you, but you shook your head and withdrew your hands from him, turning again to walk to the other side of the room.

He sighed as he felt his own fears envelop him.

"If there is somebody else… I won't keep you from him", he felt his ears flattened, and his chest heaved with panic that you might turn and accept the comment as truth, but you did no such thing.

You turned with a chuckle as you sniffed to stop the snot dribbling down your face, your arms crossed themselves tightly around your chest, and it broke his heart to see you with such a dreaded shocked look on your face.

"I am pregnant", you slammed your eyes shut, eyes only opening after a few seconds when the silence became unbearable. If they tried, the words couldn't have felt more doomed coming out of your mouth.

Aonung's jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and his ears waved back and forth as he tried to figure out if you were telling the truth. Your tears couldn't have been fake, so you must have been, but why were you so upset with this blessing?

"You-You are with my child?" It was the first time you had ever heard the warrior stutter in your years of knowing him, and you worried that it was a bad omen.

You nodded grievously before your left hand detangled from its hug and flew to your mouth, covering the orifice to stifle a sob. Aonung was unhappy, and this was your worst nightmare coming to fruition.

Aonung's shocked eyes morphed to joy as he closed the gap with a single step, one hand immediately closing around your cheek to bring his forehead to yours. At the same time, the other pressed to your side, his most extended finger storing your belly button to stroke the child-growing within you.

The shame of the predicament was killing you, but the immovable emotion boiling in your stomach was stilled as Aonung's joyous guffaw hit your cheek.

You looked up at him, wondering how he could be laughing at a time like this, but then he shocked you. Aonung pressed a peck to your head and then another and another. He peppered your face with kisses, moving across your head, cheeks, and jaw before he tossed himself down to your floor on his knees and placed a single kiss on your belly, letting his hands encase your stomach.

You were ecstatically shocked, you had been expecting to be sat down, to be asked what the plan was to empty the embryo from your womb, but he was acting even more loving than ever, if that was even possible.

"For how long? Is it healthy? Why are you so upset? Is something wrong with it", his gentle touch increased as he gazed into your stomach, feeling the worry bubble up.

"No, everything is fine, ma Aonung. I was just worried". You quickly dried your tears now, wiping your nose on the back of your wrist and your eyes with your palms.

"Worried about what?" He pressed further, his forehead creasing as he stood again to return to your height.

"I was not sure you were ready," you mumbled, returning to the familiar grounds of fear as the idea that Aonung would be away with his duties as chief in training too much to have a family right now.

"It is a big responsibility," he agreed with you, nodding, but his arms slipped around your waist, and you dug into him, letting his hold tell you that he was about to continue positively.

"But we have been blessed. Imagine how many babies Eywa will bless us with if you are pregnant now!" His eyes lit up as he realized that this quick pregnancy must be a sign of good fertility and, therefore, more children would surely be on the way before you were both old.

You laughed. The scratchiness on your crying caused it to itch, but you were so pleased. It was like someone had just taken the weight of the world off your shoulder now that you had someone to confide this secret with.

"We have never talked about children", you nervously pointed out as you slipped your hands around his slim-cut waist, fiddling with the string that kept his loincloth tied on his hip.

"Well, how many do you want?" Aonung grinned at your touch, and smugness was coming over him as he started the foundation of the plans for his new family.

"I have no idea. How many do you want?" You shook your head with a sharp exhale. Children were a lot of work, and both parents had to be prepared to put in equal work to raise and preen over them. They would all be loved, but it would take work.

"As many as you will give me!" His smile stretched from ear to ear. His tail thumped against his calf eagerly as the idea of a family between you two emerged.

"Hm, three?" You asked hesitantly. It was the number of children Ronal and Tonowari had, so maybe that was a sound system to model the base of your ideal family size on.

"Four is better, more even", Aonung shook his head, disregarding the number with a serious face. You adored how cute he looked as he discussed your future children, and it made you playful as you stood in your hut, plotting away while Ronal was probably cursing you for being late.

"Well, five is a lucky number", you suggested, an eager peek in your tone as you pushed the invisible barrier between you two that kept you both from laying your true thoughts on the table.

"But then someone will be left out. Best to make it six", Aonung's eyes lit up with tease as he hopefully glanced at your face, trying to gauge your temperature as the number increased, but you were in your element.

"Six? You want six children?" You were slightly disbelieving at the idea of six children running around your cramped pod.

"Actually, I have always liked the number ten", that you laughed at. Ten? He must have been crazy.

"Ten? You had better become the best hunter in all of Pandora if you expect me to birth ten children", the thought of your poor body was enough to send your head spinning. Still, the idea of you sitting around a small fire with a large horde of children running around with a much older Aonung kissing your face was enough to make you blush.

"Five girls and five boys, that is good, no?" He had clearly been thinking about this behind closed doors, and it was enough to cure you of any doubts forever that this man wasn't ready.

"Are you starting an army?" You joked around with a laugh, and Aonung was on cloud nine. He felt everything click back into place as you recovered your former happiness with an added glow; Eywa, Aonung questioned how he didn't see you were pregnant sooner.

Aonung sighed and rolled his eyes at your words, using his humor to keep you amused as the conversation about your future panned out before you two.

"You want to have less?" He queried, feeling out exactly how many babies you wanted your mate putting in you. He wanted a large family, as large as you could bless and Eywa could condone.

"Hm, it's best not to say. Eywa will either give me far too many or far too few if I say", it was an old wife tail your mother had told you years ago, and even though it wasn't rested in any science as Eywa took no sides, the power of the jinx held your silence.

"You know, if we were to have ten--" Aonung brought up the number again, making you laugh merrily as a hot warmth spread across your belly.

"Aonung!" You interrupted him with a shy, embarrassed outcry as the picture of a vast family filled your mind.

"I am just saying, if it were ten, you would barely have any chores. They would do them all for you!" Aonung raised his hands in defense, slyly grinning as he thought of the acts it would require to populate his dream-sized family.

"You are trying to grow an army!" Your jaw fell slack in mock shock as you slapped an arm to his chest, giggling as he quickly snatched your wrist before it could retract.

"No, if I were, then I would have stuck with thirteen", He brought your hand to his mouth and pressed it against his face to encourage you to hold his cheek, which you did agreeably.

"Hm, well, you'll have to prove yourself with this one first; you have to convince me", your words were half joking, but Aonung's eyes fell down your figure towards your stomach with a contemplative smile.

"You will see, I will be the best father, and you will want to have all my babies", his words made you blush further, but a deeper part of you lit up with desire.

Everything had gone well. The only part hindering your happy ending was sitting far across the village in her own pod with her arms crossed, cursing her son and her student's tardiness. Unsure if it was connected.

-Avatar Taglist-

@bxnnybtchwriting @philipyarnellasoul @strnqer

[dollhouse-lied]

Creepypasta headcannons i have

Tw: sh mention, murder talk, sex talk (light)

Jeff the killer

He comes off extremely rude and he is, what you see is what you get with him

He is the definition of a pervert, almost obsessed with sex. Hes extremely non committal, but he has enough respect for his hookup to let them know that its not anything more than a hookup to him

He is very unkempt, rarely showering. Because of this he REEKS of axe body spray. Shower in a can.

His clothes all have some level of blood or dirt on them, he only washes clothes when they are borderline unwearable.

He will never admit it, but he has a soft spot for animals. However, if he comes across a hurt animal, he will “put it out of its misery” even if the animal could live.

His room has piles of random things hes stolen from his victims, including a box full of family photos. His reasoning is that he doesn't want the victims familys to have any keepsakes. The rest of the creepypastas think its weird.

He spends most his days laying in bed on his phone or playing video games with ben, waiting for night so he can go pick out and stalk his victims.

He puts great care into choosing his victims, mainly choosing the ones who look like they could put up a fight. He lives for the struggle, feeling that adrenaline rush and satisfaction for when he finally kills them

Eyeless jack

Hes a sweetheart to those he cares about, choosing to spend his time around people he knows. He comes off very stoic, but in reality he just doesn't know how to interact with people.

He has a large knowledge about medicine and how to treat wounds that has made his room very popular in the mansion. He offers his services for free, but he doesn't offer any numbing or anesthesia if you happen to need something like stitches.

He is very quiet, only speaking if he has something important to say.

He doesn't quite know how to keep a romantic relationship, but he tries his best. He is devoted to his partner, treating them like a god/godess.

His victims are all women, particularly pretty women. He enjoys breaking something delicate and fragile, cutting them open and displaying their pretty organs.

He likes to “play” with his victims, often splaying them out like an art piece with the organs he doesn't eat hidden around the house.

His room is oddly neat, with little bloodstains or dirt. He hates messes, obsessive over keeping a steril environment for his “patients”. He doesn't even eat in his room, fearing a spill.

Ticci toby

Toby is…. something alright.

He is the definition of bipolar, switching between happy and bubbly to homicidal and aggressive at the drop of a pin.

He is usually found up in a tree, watching the forest. He takes comfort in knowing that the world goes on when hes not there.

He is suicidal, but usually takes out his emotions by hacking up someone. Murder is his favorite coping mechanism, treating the victims dismemberment as a sort of “play therapy”

He doesn't have a favorite type of victim, but he does tend to kill more men than women, rarely choosing to kill children. They scream too much.

His partner, if he was stable enough to get one, would be treated well enough, receiving gifts and little signs of affection. He isnt the touchy feely type, as he cant really *feel* it. It might be nice for the partner, but toby isnt THAT considerate

He keeps his room clean, but it does get messy when hes having a down swing.

He is kind of a hoarder, having shelves full of various trinkets and rocks he likes.

He also has a book of pressed flowers, as he feels safest while in nature. The natural world is beautiful to him, keeping him sane.

Ben drowned

Ben is a little shit. Poltergeist is the best term to describe him, constantly tormenting the residents of the mansion by messing with their electronics.

He can fly, but it takes effort, something ben doesn't really like to put in. He walks most the time.

He can enter people's electronics at his whim, pissing off everyone with his antics

He loves going through peoples cameras and inserting himself into the photos while in the digital world, as well as deleting random apps

He loves anime, often putting the shows on 1.5x speed so he can watch quicker. Hes totally a weeb, having posters of attack on titan and jjk up in his room

Speaking of his room, its a disaster. He hasnt cleaned it in god knows how long and it stinks like ass covered up by the cherry incense he lights.

He isn't interested in romance, it has never occurred to him that someone may be interested in him.

Hes very self centered, doing most things soley for his benefit.

He doesn't really like killing, as it takes too much energy. He would rather play video games instead.

He doesn't have to eat, but he chooses to anyways. Why not when food tastes so good?

Sally

She might be only a child, but shes not stupid. She knows that she is looked at like a stupid child so she uses that to her advantage.

She is absolutely ADORED by slender, having tea parties with him whenever she can. She sees him as a father, calling him “dad” at times.

Her room is full of stuffed animals, as she finds comfort from having them to protect her while she sleeps.

She has frequent nightmares, often waking up shaking and crying. She runs to maskys room when this happens, as she knows he will protect her. They usually end up watching tv on the couch where sally falls asleep, causing tim to carry her to her room.

She doesn't like killing, as it reminds her too much of her past. Slender refuses to have her do anything but what she wants, so she gets to be at the mansion all day, going out with the proxys to the store if needed.

Masky

He is totally hooked on cigarettes, smoking almost a third of a pack a day. He knows its bad for him, but its one of the few things that brings him joy.

He has restless leg syndrome, constantly bouncing his leg while sitting. It pisses jeff off for some reason, but to be fair everything tim does pisses jeff off.

You will often find him sitting by a body of water as he finds the sound soothing. It acts as an escape from his horrible intrusive thoughts.

He really is slenders lap dog, despite how much it irks him. He cant help it, where else is he supposed to go? He has to help slender to keep himself safe.

He always is slightly cold, wearing two layers and gloves. It pisses him off because people (jeff) are always making comments about it

He sees toby as a kid, not really realizing how much it pisses toby off. Masky feels like a parent to him, but toby sees tim as nothing more than an adult trying to control him.

His room is full of various posters of his favorite bands, specifically deftones. He keeps it tidy, but theres always a slight mess that he claims he knows where everything is, but he constantly is losing something.

He likes killing, but its also just a job. He doesn't see his victims as people, but as an obstacle he has to eliminate. He prefers killing sex offenders, as he sees it as a good deed to the world, as well as because of sally. He can't imagine a child like sally getting assaulted, so he takes them out in the most painful way he can think of.

Hes not gay… but hes definitely not straight. He cant imagine having an exclusive partner, but an open relationship would be nice.

Hoodie

Hes quiet, but he listens. He knows all the drama in the mansion, despite not personally knowing most the people involved.

Most people forget he exists, which is exactly how he wants it. Hes not one to get in anyones way.

He loves sally, giving her gifts, flowers, anything she wants. Sally sees him only as tims friend, not really as a caretaker.

He constantly gets on maskys nerves by taking his things and using them, placing them back in a place he knows tim will look and know it was moved.

He has feelings for tim, but doesn't quite know how to express them, so he just plays little pranks and smacks his ass. Thats his idea of flirting. Tim doesn't find it funny.

He loves weed, and smoking a blunt in the woods is his ideal night. He always smells like weed, which is part of why sally doesnt really like him.

Hes a clean person, keeping his room comfortable and in order. He showers a little too infrequently, sometimes having greasy hair for a couple days too long.

He has a mild drinking problem, but he is aware of it and is trying to cut back, choosing to smoke instead.

Clockwork

BAD BITCH ALERT!!!

She's muscular, but mainly trains for strength instead of looks. She exercises obsessively, bordering on unhealthy amounts.

Shes a total gym bro, drinking protein shakes that she keeps in the mini fridge in her room specifically so no one steals her food.

She and nina are best friends despite being polar opposites. They work out together, nina usually tapping out long before clockwork does.

She is brash, not afraid to speak her mind or punch someone if needed.

She hates all men, but can tolerate masky, hoodie and toby. They treat her well enough, respecting her boundaries.

She loves killing men, joining tim when he kills child predators. She knows not all men are bad, but that doesn't really matter. A man is a man, and she doesn't like them.

She loves sally, but keeps her distance. She doesn't want to be seen caring for anyone, despite desperately craving love and attention.

She wishes she could trust enough to have a partner, but she lets her fear get in the way when she has a chance. She ruins he relationships on accident without really knowing why. Its just instinct to isolate herself.

Her room is clean, clothes organized by color and a mini kitchen in the corner. She often cooks for her best friend nina.

Nina the killer

Shes THE scene queen.

She feels stupid for ever idolizing jeff after realizing who he really is so she strives to prove she is better than him.

Slender loves her, admiring her drive and ability to preform well in missions

She is especially skilled in stalking, watching her victims for days before hand

She uses social media to find victims, catfishing men and women to meet her and then killing them in their own home.

Her favorite method is strangling, as she feels it proves how strong and capable she is. She is right.

Her natural hair is light brown, but she dyes it black and pink every 2 months.

She has freckles, but she covers them up.

She spends most her days stalking or on her phone, calling people shes catfishing for hours.

Clockwork tries to pull her out of her room but after 5pm it's impossible to get her out without a food bribery.

She definitely has borderline personality disorder, but she has a handle on it. Her favorite person right now is clockwork, and when she splits on her, clockwork takes it calmly and lets her cool off. Nina always apologizes and appreciates clockwork for her patience.

She does self harm, but usually bullies herself out of it because “thats cringe”

She wants a relationship, but refuses to acknowledge that shes a lesbian.

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Stone Heart AU: Scar pt IV

The spell itself isn’t difficult. It’s ensuring whoever breaks out doesn’t let loose havoc and will remain inside Ramshackle. Professor Taka says that he’s really not really concerned, being 7 petrified statues gives you a lot of time to talk together, and Ramshackle is the only place where the old magic is stable enough to hold their forms. He’s little more than a ghost once he steps past the gate.  

“The Headmaster at the time acquired our statues around 200 years ago. Plenty of time to get to know somebody.” He says, lounging back on one of the porch chairs and flipping through a book. “But if you want my advice for your training, I would go with Mary next. She would add a good balance.”  

“Mary?”  

“Queen of Hearts. Mary Elizabeth Heart.” he states, glancing up. He knows that it probably should have started with her. Mary had softened considerably in her time, seeing her children grow and their children, and so on, until Riddle Rosehearts came about and went and made the same mistakes. She had bemoaned and wept when he walked through main street red eyed and shaking from his Overblot. The very thing that had led to not just her ‘death’ but the loss of her husband years previous.  

She would have treated Yuu more like a daughter, being more compassionate in sessions and probably more patient. She was good at that sort of thing, so long as you followed the rules and weren’t a complete ass. He did enjoy poking at her until she exploded though. He had to entertain himself somehow!  

Perhaps though, the cub needed him first. Somebody who was firm and deliberate, but yielding. He pushed to the limits of what she had and then some, but the way she thrived under the smallest praise...well, it was concerning and rewarding. When he could see her get past the fear and hesitation and breathe through it to accomplish the step or visualize the spell, that's where she shined like the sunrise over Pride Rock. 

And after all the shit that she had been put through, she needed rewards and praise. She had the drive to do better, the ambition, the fortitude. She had everything she needed to be a warrior. She just needed somebody who treated her exactly what she was.  

A cub. A child. Somebody who still needed guidance and not to be tossed about in danger or left to deal with it alone with other children.  

“Professor, you ok? Your face looks pinched. Tense? Tense.”  

“Just an irritating thought, don’t mind it.” He waved a hand, “Breaks over, sunshine. Go through your stances again, get your knees higher. Your power comes from the thrust of your hips, the more leverage the better. And land on the balls of your feet, you’ll land softer and help with future spells. Take it slow if you must, but do it correctly.” 

“Yes sir!”  

She never complained about a single task, even if she asked him to explain in a different way, or if it took her a few days to get it right. He could see her get tired, limbs shaking with exertion, and still say nothing.  

Grimhilde might be the one to teach her how to speak for herself. Maybe her instead? But her magical core is too much for her to support right now.  

Although...perhaps if they were able to bring in the familiars? Less magic to support, same mindset, easier on her core, natural support. He would discuss as much with the others tonight, while she slept.  

Sometimes he wished that Shenzi and her husbands had been considered familiars. But they weren’t subservient to him nor soul bonded, not like Diaval or Crovis or even Iago. He would not wish them to be. But it was something that him and Ursula had bonded over, their love and pain of their long lost friends.  

When he assured himself that she was asleep, he left the Ramshackle. It was a strange feeling still. Inside Ramshackle, he was tangible. He was able to touch objects, move her hands into the correct position and so on. Once he stepped out though, he was as faded as the damn smoke that trailed behind him, not even able to move the leaves on the ground he walked on. A ghost perhaps? Closest thing perhaps. It didn’t matter as much, as he had never encountered any beings, not even Malleus. The dragon may actually be able to see him with his core.  

He agreed with Maleficent though. The patterns were obvious enough. The children that corresponded the closest with themselves were the ones overblotting. He would bet his last coin that Malleus would Overblot at some point, it was only a matter of when.  

He steps onto Mainstreet and slides down the base of his statue, and closes his eyes.  

He had sunk into this spot so often that the vaccum of magic feels like a comfort now. It existed, but it didn’t. Accessible but only when all were in true agreement. There was a reason that it had taken them years upon years to try and break free, and even then, the little monster was not considred a resounding success.  

“How fairs the child?” Grimhilde asks. All of their forms slip and morph in this space, but for now, she looks in her prime. Tall, regal and vaguely haughty.  

“She fairs well. Her lessons are successful and she’s a diligent student. I hold concern for her food and sleep, but until I can hold any sort of solid form to address the damn headmage myself, we are at a loss there. I hunt when she is at school at least, though it is sparing. We can’t attract too much attention.”  

“She seems invigorated. Tired, but she’s got a brighter look in her eyes. Floyd, precious little thing, he’s getting curious,” Ursula praises, also taken to her prime form. “But you didn’t come just to give a progress report. What’s the deal?”  

He huffs, “Oh, I can’t miss my dear friends?” 

“Oh on with it kitty kitty,” Hades, damn the crawler, though at least he has taken an older form. “You’ve got some idea; you settle in somewhere about as well as snakeskin does.”  

There's a hiss beside him, a snifting of scales. Ah, seems that Jamil did something to unsettle him again. They were far to alike in history and personality, especially at this age.  

“We all know it will take years for her to be ready to take on those of us with stronger magical cores at this rate. I’m not saying speed up the process and put her in danger,” he pointedly says to Mary, who opens her mouth, “But perhaps something like microdosing. For those who still have their familiars, it would be much easier to manage them, as opposed to the originals.”  

There’s a pulse, ripples above that show there is thought, emotion, activity, but whos and where are completely lost. Only intensity.  

“And for those of us that don’t?” Mary asks, fanning herself. She was like himself and Ursula, no familar.  

“Items of Imbuement I think. I don’t know what each of you have, nor the enchantments upon them. I think she could be ready for simple Grimoire’s in half a years' time, maybe a bit less.” He sighs, waving a hand between Ursula, Jafar and Grimhilde. “I am more concerned with getting a safer means for the precognition dreams. The mirror works well, but she can’t control what it shows or where it goes. There is a guardian inside, but whatever the damn thing is, it is a being of Light. I can’t tell you who or what it is.”  

“Has it been lending the visions to her?” Jafar mumbles, the sound of pages ruffling.  

“I can’t be sure. It hasn’t hurt her, and she tells me that it speaks rarely. High pitched voice, but some sort of beastman she thinks. Large round ears on the top of his head is the only real distinguishing mark on him.”  

“We will have to continue this another time,” Malifient annouces, “Morning is drawing near for you. We will speak to our familars and see who would be prepared to part, and what materials. Is there room in the dorm to hold them?” 

“Plenty.” Scar stands, leaning heavily on his staff. “The place is decrepit, but the east wing at least stands strong and insulated. Around 12 rooms, give or take. Mine faces the sunrise.” He purrs, knowing he got the best room in the place.  

They make their remarks, some of the usual banter, but truly, it’s only three that would be able to lend any familiars, the rest would be enchanted items. It’s rough, but doable.  

The sun peeks out just as he stumbles on his staff trying to rise. The smoke evaporates in the warmth of the sun and his vision becomes spotty. Far past time, he might not make it back before students start- 

He blinks, facing the graveyard. He’s in his room, plopped onto the plush chair. Solid again too, the fabric indented with his claws. Huh. Well, that’s interesting, isn’t it?  

“Professor Taka?” Yuu is already awake of course, tying the silk into a proper tie. “Did you fall asleep in your chair? I know you like looking at the stars but it’s not good for your back, you know.”  

He smiles, rising from it. “Worried about me? How cute. I suppose I could be more cautious in the future." He feels vaguely weak when he rises, but not too bad. "Go finish getting ready, I’ll make breakfast.”  

“Are you actually going to cook it though? The meat was still bleeding last time.”  

“Little runt.” he clips, tugging on a lock of hair, “Yes, I’ll cook it through, and it will lose all the flavoring because your little herbivore stomach can’t handle anything delicious.”  

They banter about seasoning and recipes, gives a sneaky pet to Grim behind the ears as he blearily eats, and they rush out the door, leaving him in the blissful quiet.  

Finally. He needs a nap.  

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

I was wondering if you could write a small drabble about the proxies of your choosing with a reader that has a really naturally sad looking face but there not sad at all

(this is smth I have and I always get bothered by it😭)

Resting sad face :(

Thank you so much for requesting!!

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

Tim

As Tim walks down the stairs to get some breakfast started for himself and some of the younger kids, he notices you sitting on the couch watching t.v. "Good morning, y/n. Want any breakfast? I'm already making some for the kids" He says, rolling up his sleeves and shushing the overly excited children. You look over in his direction "No thank you, I already ate" He frowns at your face, you looked like you were on the brink of tears. He decides not to ask you about it now, because he knows you probably don't want him asking about if you're upset while 4 kids are in the room, so he simply nods and gets started on breakfast.

Once he has all of the kids seated at the table with their respective breakfasts and drinks, he comes to sit next to you on the couch. He rests his elbows on his knees, kind of bent over as he sits. "Hey, you doing ok?" He asks in a low voice, so that the kids don't hear. You tilt your head "Yeah? Why?" His face softens "Oh, that's good to hear. You just looked so sad" You let a small smile creep onto your face. "Yeah, I get that a lot. It's just how my face rests I guess" He nods. "Alright, well in the event that you are ever sad, I'm always open to talk if you would like." You nod and look back over to the t.v. "Thanks, Tim." With that, he stands and pats your back, before heading back over to the dining room to wash the kids dishes.

Toby

It was chore day around the manor, and today you were asked to help Toby carry in the wood he chops for the fireplaces. And so, moving past all of the people with garbage bags, cleaners and large pieces of furniture being moved, you go outside to the front yard. Toby is not too far from the porch, chopping wood just as Slender said he would be. When he sees you approach, he puts his hatchet down and wipes the sweat off his forehead. "Hi, y/n! Did you need something?" He asks, before gasping and dropping his hatchet entirely "What's wrong? Did you come out here to be alone? I'm sorry, i'll leave if you want" He rambles nervously. You furrow your brows in confusion. "What are you talking about? I came out to help you carry in the wood for the fireplaces?"

He is quiet for a moment. "Oh. I just thought- you look so upset??" You chuckle. "No, I'm ok! Anyways, back to the reason i'm out, got any wood for me?" He nods and points to a small pile of chopped up logs. You pick up as many as you can carry and begin to walk back to the manor, before hearing Toby call out to you. "Hey y/n?" You turn around "yeah?" He is quiet again before speaking "I know it's not my business, but it would be ok if you were sad. We're only human" You smile and wave dismissively "I promise I'm not sad, but thanks for your consideration, that's really kind" And with that you turn back to the manor, heading inside to place the logs in the fireplaces.

[truebluehue]

Seven

Beginnings

Glossary:

Eyktanay: General; one step below leader.

Turns out, it isn’t hard to learn more about you.

Once Jake and Neytiri realize they not only were both interested in you, they never expected their children to be the one to give them more details about you.

“Y/N taught us more plants today!” Tuk yells out excitedly.

“Y/N gave me a few tips on hunting.” Neteyam says after a solo training session.

“She knows a lot about healing. I never thought to use yana bark to make the sting less.” Kiri says, coming back from training with Mo’at.

“Y/N? Yeah she helped me and Spider- Do absolutely nothing. I’m gonna go tend to my ikran.” Lo’ak rushes out after seeing his father over Kiri’s shoulder.

But it wasn’t just their children. Even fellow clansmen have only high praise of you. You don't mind helping with the younger ones in their training, you frequently help Mo’at with visiting the elderly, and you are a well known skilled huntsman. There is nothing but praise.

But that raises a new problem.

How do they get close to you?

Despite the small help in getting to know more about you through their children, there are clearly some things missing. More specifically, things like what are you looking for in a mate. So Jake and Neytiri observed, and it just made them fall even more with you. Especially the little things. Like the way you get up each morning to help the elderly with smaller chores. Who apparently have seen him and Neytiri looking.

“You and Jake are looking for a third.” Mo’at doesn’t bother to look at Neytiri with her statement.

“We are.” Neytiri doesn’t bother to share exactly who they are planning to court.

Mo’at huffs. This has been a game the two have played since Neytiri was young. “She enjoys nature more than hunting. You would want to be on the good side of her mother, even Eytukan preferred that than to be on the end of her bow. Be sure to make what you want clear from the start. Y/N hates having her time wasted.” Neytiri isn’t surprised by her mother’s meddling or the fact that she knows who Jake and her want to court, she’s more surprised at the steadfast approval.

“You do not think we are too old?” Neytiri asks with squinted eyes.

“I'm sure even you noticed I am considerably younger than your father. Besides, you are more hunter than Tsahik, and Jake is more protective rather than combative. She can balance you both.” Mo’at snorts and grins. “Have you even started a courting gift?”

“We have. Though we have no clue if she would like it.”

_______________________

“Timun, just go for it.” You roll your eyes in exasperation. “What's the worst he can say?”

“No.” Timun says blankly, once again staring at Ayekxo. “Are you sure you heard correctly? I mean, he didn’t really ask about me in that way, right? Maybe he just wanted to know more about you?”

“Timun, his back may be gorgeous but he is not my type. We both know this.” You sigh, turning him by the shoulders to face you. “Listen, you got this. He wants you and you want him. Now stop being a skxawng  and gho get you man. You know what, I'll make it easier for you. Hey, Ayekxo!” Timun’s eyes widen as you beckon his crush over. He clutches your arm.

“If you weren’t my best friend I would kill you.” He whispers.

“I'd like to see you try.” You shoot a sharp smirk his way before greeting Ayekxo with a more friendly one. “Hey my friend Timun was wondering if there is more space in your hunting party?”

“Of course. Sadly my other members had other priorities. Are you fine if it's just me and you?” Ayekxo asks Timun, you notice the lovesick glint in his eye.

“Yes! I mean of course. That's no problem.” Timun rambles before turning to you. But you're already gone, on your way to do your own hunting. That sly ikran dung. Timun thinks with a shake of his head. 

Walking back into your kelku, you spot your mother standing there with an excited grin.

“Ma’ite! You have a courting gift!” She says, visably shaking in excitement.

“Mawey. At least let me look!” You say with a rush. Your mother thrusts a garment at you. At first glance, you can see it was made with excellent craftsmanship, but then you look at the details. It was a beautiful top with a blue lining that matches your skin, but it was what was in the center that made your breath hitch. It held two feathers. One from the Oltekan chest piece and the other from a well known huntress.

No wonder your mother was excited.

“These feathers-” You began breathlessly as your mother cut you off.

“Are the feathers of the Oletykan and Tskarem! Oh, ma’ite!” She shouts in glee. You can do nothing but just stand in awe. But then the doubts begin to creep in. 

Why me?

"It is a beautiful piece. But this is Toruk Makto and Palulukan Makto. What could they want with me?" You say confused.

Your other comes next to you, rubbing a soothing hand along your shoulders. She understands you ore than you realize. "Y/n. When I met your father he was eyktanay and I was just a simple gatherer. But you wanna know why we were able to fit? We decided rank meant nothing when it comes to finding the one person who will understand even the darkest part of yourself." She smiles softly before taking your hands in to hers. "Besides your like your mother. You never back down from a challenge."

______________________________________________________________

Hi. Hello. Hey. As you all know I had major writer's block. I decided to post this regardless of how short it is because it kinda went to a different direction in my drafts. I am really stuck at the moment so please, if you have any thoughts, share them with me. Sorry its so short. This is my first time writing more than a one shot.

Tags: @thehoneymushroomhealer @rosyjn

[steak-n-popotoes]

FFxivWrite '24 - 1

"You seek an audience with us, Dawnservant?"

"Come, Missus Spellgrave, there is no need for titles and decorum here." The Vow of Resolve chuckled, the sound reverberating with warmth in the large chamber. "Unless, your wish is that I call you 'Warrior of Light'?"

Eryna and Caranar faces both soured with a grimace, sending the Dawnservant into a greater fit of guffawing laughter.

"Trust me, I understand what it is like to be seen as your deeds first and your self last. You both may call me Gulool Ja Ja, I being the Vow of Resolve, and my brother the Vow of Reason."

"If you insist. I know I speak for my husband and I both when I ask that you think of us as little more than simple visitors to your beautiful home." At his wife's words, Caranar nodded along. "'Eryna and Caranar' will do just fine."

"I am glad the sights of Tuliyollal are to your liking. I take it Lamaty'i has already run you to every little corner of our city, fond of visitors as she is."

"Yeah, she was dragging us along on the tour before she'd even gotten over her seasickness," Caranar said, before quickly adding, "it was nice to have someone show us around, though."

"Yes, she bears a great love for her home and her people, but..." The Vow of Resolve trailed off. "I trust that, as 'simple visitors', I can speak with you in confidence regarding matters of the Rite? ...and, of the heart."

With confirmation from his guests, Gulool Ja Ja continued. "I do not wish to keep you from your cabin overlong, I know you long for rest and relaxation. The reason I summoned you this night was... to seek your counsel as fellow parents."

At the serious turn, Eryna and Caranar's attention sharpened.

"When I see how you care for your little one, despite the fact he is not of your blood, I cannot help but feel we share common values. My children... they each bear my deepest love, and the burden of this throne. But I fear the future of Tuliyollal is burdensome indeed."

Eryna tilted her head at an inquiring angle. Despite the dismissal of formalities, she wasn't sure if the question at her lips was overstepping a more personal boundary. "The nature of the Rite - do you not believe that your children are fit to follow in your footsteps?"

"No." replied the Dawnservant, with no sign of uncertainty. Long had the brothers debated this exact matter. "That a simple visitor as worldly as yourself has arrived at the same conclusion after a mere day should come as little surprise." A dull ache stirred within the Vow of Resolve at Eryna's speed of wit and sharp reasoning. He was right to confide in them.

"Each claimant harbors great strength, some unknowingly, but each of them are flawed all the same. I am glad that Koana and Wuk Lamat have found strong allies who will challenge and support them in equal measure, but I fear for the First Promise."

At his words, Eryna placed a hand over her heart. "I can see how it pains you to set your feelings aside for their sake. What advice would you ask of us?"

The Vow of Resolve took a small, steadying breath. "Beef is a rather stoic young man, of very few words, yes? This trait, he shares with Zoraal Ja. I feel him recede further into the distance along a path I would not see him walk, yet in the absence of words, I am unsure how to steer him true. Through what means do you find common ground; to know your son's heart?"

The two gave due consideration for their answers.

Caranar spoke first. "Well, it takes two people to have a conversation." He glanced at Eryna, who was watching him with a look of mixed affection and concern, a look of knowing. "With Beef, there's always a bit of guesswork. Sometimes he can't hide his feelings for the look on his face, or the actions he takes. By now, understanding him feels pretty natural - but that's only because he chooses to let us in. When he feels there's something we need to know and haven't picked up on, he'll speak."

Eryna felt an urge to give Caranar a reassuring touch, little more than a brush on the arm to let him know she could see him. How much he himself had let her in. "I'm afraid it may not be the solution you hoped for, but... if Zoraal Ja has built a wall between you, the most you can do is offer the same warmth as always, and hope that someday he'll choose to bring that wall down."

"Of course." Ignorance and understanding. A trail leading both ways. How could he forget? "In any case, I am reassured that we are of similar minds after all."

As the smile returned to the Vow of Resolve's face, the air in the chamber lifted like a misty morning in the dawn. "Enough somber words and worries - you've heard plenty about our little family by now. Please, share with me about your own!"

[sovereignjojoz]

Okay thsi sounds kinda weird, but like,, would it be okay for me to suggest Bruno Bucciarati x child reader TOTALLY PLATONIC!!!! where he kinda takes her in and they have a father daughter bond. I understand it’s kinda weird so feel free to ignore!

Dad!Bruno Buccarrati x platonic!child reader

Pairings: Dad Bruno x child reader, platonic Bucci gang x child reader

Notes -it’s not weird at all anon, totally fine! Sorry it’s taken me a while to respond. Happy holidays!

BEST DAD EVER.

You would probably have to be wondering around the vicinity of the house for Bruno to take you in.

At first he’d try to reunite you with your parents, yet when it dawns on him you seemingly have none he’d debate with himself on wether to take you in.

Not that he doesn’t want to he would, but it’s just raising a child is such a huge responsibility and baring in mind he’s only twenty makes him put some serious consideration into his decision.

Ultimately his good hearted nature sways him, and he ends up taking you in and overtime he finds that he doesn’t regret his decision.

“Mishta’ Bruno?” You yelled, a tad too loud, towards the kitchen.

The colourful cereal you were chewing on made your calling appear incoherent, yet Bruno hummed in recognition having heard it so often.

“Why can’t we just stay the two of us.” You continued knowing he was listening, “I like it just us, do your friends have to come back?” You questioned, loudly swallowing the last remnants of your cereal.

“Piccola/o,” he walked into the dining room and smiled at you. “My friends live here too, they were only gone for a special job.” He picked up a paper towel and squeezed your chubby cheeks, cleaning up your face. “It wouldn’t be fair to deny them their home, would it?”

You nodded in agreement, Bruno had taught you all about respect and fairness just before he enrolled you in an Italian children’s school, highlighting that it was of the upmost importance.

He stroked your head softly, then moved to throw the dirtied paper towel in the rubbish bin. “Don’t worry alright, my friends are very nice, you’ll have tons of fun with them piccola/o.”

You pouted unconvinced, but nodded nonetheless.

“Come on.” He extended his hand out to you so you could jump down from the white dining chair, “time to get ready for school.”

You held Bruno’s hand as you skipped along to the bathroom, quickly brushing your teeth and bathing. Bruno helped you wash your hair, soapy suds staining his hands as you splashed around in the water.

Once you had been towel dried, he massaged numerous hair care creams into you hair, then brushed and de-tangled it.

“Mister Bruno, can you braid my hair please.”

Bruno had watched countless videos on how to care for, handle and style hair similar to yours, he’d even bought a doll to practice on all in preparation for this moment. “Sure.”

You twirled around in your uniform, striking a pose for Bruno once he’d finished, you loved your new hairstyle so much!

Bruno pulled out his phone to take a picture of you, you looked so cute.

Rushing to the porch, you strapped the Velcro of your shiny shoes on then grabbed your fluffy blue jacket to put on top.

“Bye mister Bruno!”

“Wait!” Hastily, you paused what you were doing at Bruno’s call, running to the sound of his voice.

“Yes?”

He bent down to your level, handing you a white lunch box which held heart shaped sandwiches, some fruit and a packet of crisps/chips. “Here, your lunch.”

You gasped in awe, previously you had asked mister Bruno for some uniquely shaped sandwiches because some of your classmates ate them at lunch yet you had no idea on wether he was actually going to do it, leaving you positively happy.

“Thanks mister Bruno!” You pulled his hand left hand, tilting him downwards, “you’re the best!” You asserted, kissing his cheek before slamming the door shut and running of to school.

Bruno merely smiled at your action before returning back to his real work.

Tiptoeing to reach the door handle, you kicked your school shoes off of your feet and ran into the living room shouting, “I’m home! I’m home!” The light pitter patter of your feet echoing behind you.

You held your drawing of the house, you and Bruno up proudly for him to see as you entered the vast room. “Papa! Look at this drawing-!” Immediately you covered your mouth with your hands realising your mistake, but there was no time for that reality to sink in as five intimidating figures looked over you.

You gasped lightly, frightened, and ran to hide behind Bruno, grabbing onto his leg.

Your glistening eyes analysed the males one by one, “Who are these people?” You whispered.

“These are my friends I was talking about.” He explained as you nodded in recognition.

“We leave for a few months and you bring a kid home?” The one with orange hair commented, accusingly looking at Bruno.

Said male shrugged, brushing him off.

“Quit it Fugo, I’m sure the kid is quality company.” Said one with a hat.

“What’s your name piccina/o?” Asked a boy with black hair with a smile, he looked to be younger than the rest, you thought he seemed really cool.

“[name].” You told him, moving slightly closer.

“Awsome!” He put his hand up for a high five which you enthusiastically met, “would you like to play a game with me?”

“Yeah!”

Narancia picked you up, spinning you in the air, then ran towards his bedroom.

“Hey wait up, I wanna join.” Mista called out, kicking his shoes of.

A couple of days had passed and you found that Bruno was right, his friends were very fun! Narancia always played energetic games with you like tag and capture the flag, Mista carried you everywhere and frequently played tea parties with you (which Bruno joined in too) and even Fugo who was cold at first warmed up and indulged in activities such as baking with you and colouring.

The only one you hadn’t really interacted with was Abbacchio, even though you wanted to.

Sitting on the kitchen table, Abbacchio had been relaxing, reading his book and drinking his wine, when he felt a light tug on his long silver hair.

He scowled and turned towards where he felt the tug come from, finding the young perpetrator looking shyly up at him.

“Oi bimba/o, what do you think you’re doing.”

“Sorry,” you stoked his hair, pretending to put it in a ponytail, “I just really like your hair.”

He looked at you, sighing, “don’t pull.”

You jumped up and down excitedly, parting his hair so you could braid it.

After an hour Abbacchio felt his fair fall still in braids, and you came sleepily stumbling before him.

“Finished mister abba.” You stumbled forward, falling into his lap.

“Hey.” He poked you cheek, “get up.” He pulled your head up by your hair to check if you were really sleeping, finding that you were in fact asleep.

He clicked his tongue and pulled you onto his lap so you were curled comfortably in his lap, he then took a sip of his wine and picked up his book again, going back to the chapter he was previously reading.

Bruno hadn’t expected to find you curled up on Abbacchio’s lap, having know his views on kids, so to say he was surprised to say the least was an understatement.

“Don’t say anything, just take the kid.”

Bruno smiled knowingly raising an eyebrow at Abbacchio, he picked you up, your head on his shoulder, and took you to your room.

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt soft silk covers being placed over you.

“Mister Bruno…?” You half asked, half assumed.

He hummed in response turning your night light on.

“Sorry for calling you papa a while ago, it was an accident, I just really like mister Bruno.” You apologised, pulling the covers further up your face.

He smiled and pinched your cheek, “it’s alright, I don’t mind. You can call me papa or papino if you like.”

Your eyes widened, the corners creasing in excitement, “really!”

“Mhm. But for now go to bed.”

“Okay…”

“Goodnight [name].”

“Goodnight…papa.”

[fleshadept]

i absolutely cannot imagine the logic in thinking every palestinian on here asking for help is a scammer. it's been almost a year--you've seen the videos, the destruction, the death tolls, the starvation, and you've seen the consistent plea throughout it all for e-sims specifically. why do you think that is? do you think brown people just don't know what social media is, or that once your house is bombed your phone only functions to text?

@writing-prompt-s is, like many of us, physically incapable of imagining the devastation in gaza right now. of imagining what it is like to experience that first hand. to watch your family die around you and know the only way out is to fork over thousands of dollars in a foreign currency to exploitative border guards while children get shot in the head right in front of you. this experience is so unimaginable to him that he cannot picture them interacting with the internet simultaneously with the tragedy and cannot fathom the scale of it to the point that of course people would create gofundmes. what has that site been for for the past decade? health bills, funeral costs, cancer treatment, keeping people from homelessness. this is the natural extension of that function. but he would rather believe that it is not bad enough that it would push people to learn a new platform--people who have walked the vertical length of gaza as devastation followed them would simply not bother with using all the resources available to them to save the lives of their loved ones. in desperation they of course wouldn't reach out to palestinians around the world to help them fund their escape. and it is unimaginable, no, irrational that word would get out that there are people on a particular semi-obscure social media platform that are willing to help!

but accepting that any of that is true requires accepting the magnitude of what is happening. it means accepting that the people in your inbox--most of whom are real--will actually be impacted by you pressing 'delete' or ignoring it. it, popular tumblr user, puts actual moral weight to your ignorance. is your follower count in the quintuple or sextuple digits? how many people's lives could you have materially improved by posting just a few asks, after bothering to check if they were vetted, or even just look into the vetting process enough to know it wasn't bullshit? if you had just asked, if you had just bothered to check for yourself, rather than using your considerable platform to claim every single one of them was spam, you could have avoided making yourself look like such a miserable heartless cunt. more important, you could have materially improved the lives of other people in desperate situations, but now you have to live with the knowledge that all of those asks you told yourself were spam were actually real people, looking you dead in the eye and begging for help, and you slammed the door in their face.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Baby Whisperer (i.e. more Healthcare Twilight)

@hermitdrabbles56 The night had slowed down considerably, and most of the children were asleep. Twilight found himself with nothing to do after he QC’d all the glucometers, and had started debating taking a walk around the unit when he heard the little one’s cry.

In one of the rooms was a baby fresh out of the PICU, generally healthy and stable and on her way out of the hospital. She had been a patient for over a month, long enough that the parents always went home at night, leaving their little one alone in the staff’s care.

Twilight looked at her vital signs and saw nothing amiss, nor was there anything particularly alarming about the nature of her cries, so he searched for less concerning causes. This baby had a strict diet due to her heart condition and a concern for aspiration, so he knew she likely wasn’t hungry seeing as she’d been fed on a scheduled basis. After checking her diaper next, he found it clean and fresh.

“What’s wrong, little pumpkin?” he asked softly, picking her up and holding her against his chest, her little head resting on his shoulder. Her cries began to taper out into whimpers, and he slowly started to walk back and forth in the room, cradling her in one arm while holding the ECG wires that were on her in the other so they wouldn’t pull on her little chest.

Twilight settled into a steady pace, back and forth, humming softly. The baby’s head was soft and warm on his cheek as he nuzzled her gently, and eventually her cries completely pestered out. Twi watched her heart rate settle a little as she calmed down, and he smiled, giving her a kiss.

He honestly lost track of how long he paced back and forth with her, but when he turned to walk back towards the door for the hundredth time, he saw Ilia standing in the doorway.

He stopped, mildly startled. “Hey.”

Ilia smiled, leaning her head against the door frame as she watched him. “Hey.”

Twi shifted awkwardly, whispering, “She got fussy.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Ilia replied simply, still smiling. “You’re good with babies.”

Twilight huffed a bit at that. “Anybody can be good at babies. You just have to know what to look for.”

The pair stood in silence a moment, a strange gentleness filling the air between them, and then Twilight broke eye contact, laying the little one back in her crib. “Good night, little pumpkin.”

He paused as he headed for the nurse’s station, glancing at Ilia as he walked by her. A faint blush colored her face, and she smiled and turned away. He felt jittery all of a sudden, and he shook his head, going back to work.

[mossbone]

There once was a lovely maiden who was kind, curious, and compassionate. She loved nature, her neighbors and all those she saw at the market each day, all the children and elderly, all the small animals, and every forgotten beautiful thing. She had a heart full of every kind of love—so full there was no room left for romance. This suited her just fine; she was much too busy learning everything she could about geology and botany and medicine and sailing to spare more than a cursory thought toward the concept of soulmates that seemed to plague her peers.

She did well in school, and grew a marvelous garden and after school began her own apothecary. It pleased her parents well to see her succeed and be so content. However, as the years began to pass her parents began to let go of their content; they wished for her to find a husband. She did not especially wish for a husband, but she did wish to please her parents, so she began to look at the men who came into her shop.

Some were great hunters, who came and bought her soothing balms to tend to fearsome injuries from wild animals. She looked at their full stomachs and furred clothing and thought of how it could be nice to have someone keep the wild animals out of her land, so she did not have to lay awake at night listening to the howls of the wolves and tremble a little. She picked one man who had laugh lines around his face and deep tanned skin, and asked if he was married (she knew he was not, but didn’t know how else to go about bringing up the subject). He looked long and hard at her, responded he was not, and then brightened considerably and began spending more time in her shop, lingering for several hours telling jokes that made her laugh long and hard. She liked him very much, and soon they began courting, which pleased everyone in town.

It was four months into their courtship, when she was 24, that he picked her up after she closed the apothecary and something was different. His clothes were not the usual rough leather jerkin but tidy and soft. His beard was trimmed and his hair was combed, and he looked remarkably nervous. The lovely maiden suspected what was about, and asked for the chance to change into clean clothes before they embarked on an evening walk. He acquiesced, and when she had put on a frock with no powdery spice stains, and her nicest bonnet, they took a quiet stroll through the town. He took her on a meandering path that went all the way to the pier and then they sat on a bench. The lady missed his jokes very much and began to feel rather upset in her stomach, although she could not figure out why. Surely it was just nerves of excitement.

It was not long, of course, before her hunter took her hands very eagerly and confessed his deep love for her and his desire to marry her. His words were full of passion and sincerity and it made her feel sick. She realized quite suddenly that his emotions for her were far greater than hers for him could ever be; it frightened her a little, and made her feel guilty in great amount. She leapt to her feet, stuttered out apologies and regretfully explained she’d just come to the conclusion that she could not marry him. Then, watching the heartbreak come across his face like an avalanche—and not being able to understand, quite, how he could feel so bereft—she fled the scene. Well her parents and old lady neighbors asked questions that she dodged, except to clarify that the young man had not hurt her or done anything wrong, really, so there was no need for shunning or shaming. And then she threw herself into her work and another year passed quite pleasantly, and her business boomed. On her twenty-fifth birthday her parents began hinting again about marriage and partnership and settling down with love to raise babies, and she thought long and hard on the matter.

Again she turned her eye to the men who came into her shop. This time she thought of the additions that could be added to her garden, the leaks in her little cottage, and focused on the men who were renowned builders. The ones who came into her shop looking for glues and twine, and especially she focused on the men who perused the moisturizers and scented oils. She did not want to live with someone who had poor grooming. Along came a man who was known for his kind nature and very clever fingers. All the children in town loved him because he would craft them little toys made out of twine and twigs, and soon enough he began bringing sweet little gifts for the lovely apothecary owner. She knew the signs, and found him to be quite up to her standards indeed. She was a very ethical woman, and felt that this time around she must make her intentions clearer. So when he came around and asked if they could go for dinner at the usual romantic site favored by couples in town, she sat him down and explained that she would never feel more for him than strong friendship, probably, but if he was alright with that she would try it gladly. Well, it took some convincing for him to understand she meant it quite confidently, and then he got very quiet and said politely that he appreciated her honesty, but he was not interested in that very much at all.

So the months passed and she felt very complicated emotions, but in the end she was alright. The next man who asked after her she told the same thing, and he said some very unkind things that made her feel rather glad she’d said it upfront. His words hurt all the same, but luckily she had too much common sense and self-worth to take them to heart. After all, how could she be unfeeling, incapable of human emotion, when she loved her town and all the people in it so dearly? Her heart was bursting with fullness and love, so obviously that man was wrong and had some deep thinking to do on how he saw the world. Another man, more well-off than most and known for being an efficient worker, came to her shop and she saw the usual glimmer in his eye. When he brought her flowers, she explained it to him much the same. He listened carefully, then took a good long look at her sweet lovely face and her kind manners and her neatly kept shop, and said he didn’t mind. At first she was pleased, but then after a little time he began talking of his expectations for her as a wife and she found she didn’t care for them very much at all. When she explained as much, he scoffed and said she wasn’t likely to find someone else willing to put up with her not being madly in love with them. Well, that was the end of that relationship, and several more years passed without any significant developments in that area.

She learned a great deal and expanded her shop, even hiring two assistants so she could keep track of the many orders. She bought a little sailboat and took entire days off to sail by herself up and down the coast with packed meals, and had a great many small adventures. She met all kinds of men, some whom she found very handsome and had lots of fun with. But a pattern always seemed to emerge. They often said they didn’t mind if she felt less for them than they did her, but as time passed and their own feelings deepened, they eventually would mind and some admitted they thought she’d change her feelings with enough time. She began to get a little frustrated and finally swore off serious relationships altogether, although she still had occasional good times with men who were looking for nothing more. When she was thirty-three and her parents had given up on talks of marriage but still occasionally looked at her empty house and sighed wistfully, a new man came into town. He came into her shop in quite a fright asking for something to help with cramps and soothing scented oils and bath salts for his daughter, who had just turned thirteen and was apparently in great distress over her body’s recent developments.

The kind shop owner inquired as to whether the girl’s mother could help, and the man answered that her mother had died seven years ago and he had forgotten most all the things he should explain to the girl, but remembered the treatments that had been favored by her mother. She liked the way he talked and the way he obviously doted on his daughter, so she had him bring her in and she explained a great deal about biology to the girl, who had bright eyes and many questions. The man was very pleased and brought her a delicious fresh-caught sea meal in thanks. He was a fisherman, it turned out, and was planning on settling in this town for quite a while. Well, she invited him to go on her boat with her so she could show him some of the quiet spots where fish pooled in great quantities, and they laughed a lot and enjoyed each other’s company. Two nights after that he came to her shop with flowers, saying that his daughter had picked them and demanded he deliver them for her, and she sat him down and had the usual talk.

He quite surprised her. When she told him she could not feel more for him than the love of friends, his spirits lifted considerably. He confided that he still loved his wife tremendously, but no one ever seemed to believe him when he said he could never try to love anyone as much as her—had no desire to try, in fact. So he’d given up on explaining, and really had brought the flowers just to make his daughter happy. Well, this was very agreeable to the shopkeeper, and she thought of the advantages if the two of them were to join forces, and proposed to him that they might get everyone off their backs if they began courting each other. He was amenable to the idea, but warned her he really wouldn’t fall in love and she shouldn’t say yes to this thinking he would change his mind with enough time. She fell asleep with a smile every night for a month when she thought of his words, and some of those nights she fell asleep with him beside her after they’d had a very fun evening indeed.

After about ten months they agreed things were going very well and had a wedding on the beach. Her parents were overjoyed, his daughter was delighted, and all the old ladies in town were very pleased indeed. The shopkeeper liked him well enough but sometimes wanted space and would go on her sailing adventures alone, and this was fine with her husband. Sometimes she found him awake at night on their porch, gazing wistfully at the sea, and she knew his heart was still claimed by another. She felt for his pain, but was not envious of his love. Some nights they slept in the same bed, some nights they preferred their separate rooms, and when she gave birth to twins they found they made a rather good team at raising babies. A long and pleasant story short: they never fell in love and they all lived happily ever after.

[higaneion]

your character in 5 quotes

Repost, don't reblog.

Tell us your favorite quotes from your character. Give us an idea of who they are by five things they’ve said. Then tag your friends.

"Come on…be brave. Take that first step to live without fear…"

"So…everyone should have told me, you know…? They’re just…too considerate… I’m not…that weak…"

"Roy…please… Don't fail…"

"I just feel that you're not a bad person. I…trust you."

"I shall make Ostia a country in which our children can always be happy."

I was gathering her lines from FE6 and decided now is a good time as any to post them. There are extra notes on my thoughts below the cut because I feel like a lot of these need context.

This first one comes from her recruitment conversation with Gonzalez. I have read her supports a lot and honestly forgot about the recruitment conversations, but they are some of my favorites.

This is right after Hector's death, she is not having a good time, but she's trying her best! What else is significant about this quote is that before this she eggs on Eliwood about fighting and joining Roy and she gets shot down twice, painting a small glimpse of how she (and women in Elibe) are treated. Granted, she is 15 at the start and he is saying this because he doesn't want her to get hurt for fear of telling Hector, but he also sends his 15-year-old son to be the tactician and leader of the army, different circumstances I guess, but I don't know really. Tangent aside, I think this also means something to her because in her mind, she was going to find out eventually, but she just feels hurt that no one told her sooner, allowing her to believe that things were (sort of) fine outside of the walls, pointing once again to that bubble she's lived in all her life.

Okay so this is her death quote. HAHA But the way I interpreted it is that she basically says: keep moving on for the sake of Lycia, for peace, even when I'm gone, keep moving forward. Obviously this is a mouthful for someone dying unless you're an Engage character, so it keeps her last words short and bittersweet.

So, the context here is this is part of her support chain with Garret. She tries to befriend him, or at the very least make conversation with him as she does with many members of the army, regardless of station. The reason for me choosing this one is that thinking about what she's been through and what trust and honesty mean to her. You could look at it through two different lenses, one being she is just pure-hearted and believes there is good in everyone; this is true by the way. And the other being that she was betrayed by rebels under Ostia's banner, so I'd imagine that there is at least some reluctance to trust others, though her natural instinct is to do so anyway according to her supports/conversations. But to this end, she does give reasons later about why she does aside from "just a feeling"/intuition, that if he was going to kill her, he would have done it already. As she talks to people in the army from different walks of life, this aids her understanding and emotional maturity we see throughout the game.

This one is almost a red herring because the real star of this support chain is Ogier/Oujay. He has such banger lines that make me c': For a boy so young to have such sad but powerful lines... when in Fire Emblem... But anyway, talking about the quote, this one is kind of my least favorite out of the ones I picked but dialing back from the emotional maturity she does eventually develop, we see in this support just how out of touch she is with the rest of the world. She's very concerned in the moment with making friends and learning more about him that she doesn't consider the world they live in. Like, he says their family was poor and he's the breadwinner and she presses him with casual questions about his family like the small talk you would hear in school or something. Girl... But I think it works out in the end as it shows not only her flaws, but she admits to being so hasty and ignorant and tries to be more open-minded.