#but looks wise one suits the other best

[kylo-skywalkerr]

What's the connection between Major Grom: Plague Doctor fans and Kylux shippers? Many Kyluxers love Major Grom (including me) and I know one of the artists for the Grom comics made a kylux comic back in 2016. Is it the ginger x black haired gays? The allure of them both being evil power couples?

And where are the crossover fics/fanart? I am so interested in this connection, actually.

[vividxpages]

｡° ✮୨ৎ "lay it all on me"୨ৎ✮° ｡

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 2100

summary: With the Queen and your betrothed Jacaerys’ delayed arrival, you are left in charge of the day’s council meeting. When one of the lords starts to speak of a possible bedding ceremony for your upcoming wedding, your thoughts begin to spiral badly…

warnings: the lords in Rhaenyra’s council being perverts and dicks, talks of misogynistic traditions and predatory behavior of men, sexism and misogyny, panic attacks, Jacaerys being a protective betrothed, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, crying, hopeful ending

a/n: I cooked this up so quickly, but I was very inspired yesterday - thank you so much to the anon who sparked a conversation about bedding ceremonies in my asks and with it, my inspiration for this idea! <3 this is for you :*

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

When the messenger arrived at the council room and announced the delayed arrival of the Queen and her son, you had been optimistic for a moment.

Jacaerys and you, a team ever since your shared childhood and since recently betrothed with the blessings of his mother and family, had led council meetings like this together before and you were no stranger to the strategies and logistics of the war and Rhaenyra’s efforts in it. You just had not done it by yourself before.

You nodded in thanks to the messenger and turned back to the assembly of Rhaenyra’s lords around the table with a polite smile. It was only a matter of time until her and Jace would make their return from the dragon’s caves and until then, you’d do your best to begin today’s conversation.

“Well then, my lords.” You nodded to yourself and took a deep breath, looking into the round with openness. “I believe we’ll continue where we’ve left off yesterday? Is there any news yet of Daemon’s stay at Harrenhal? We could-“

“There is another matter of importance we thought we could discuss with you, my princess.” One of the lords interrupted you, a cool smile on his face as you leaned back in your seat. You cocked an eyebrow at him to continue despite your sentence being left unfinished. “Since the wedding with the prince Jacaerys will occur in the upcoming months, it would be wise to discuss the bedding ceremony sooner rather than later.”

Something in you went very, very still.

You blinked at him before you looked into the other men’s faces. They seemed to be in agreement of this rapid topic change. “The…bedding ceremony?”

“Yes, it is of grand importance to ensure the consummation of marriage between two newly-weds.” He explained to you, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his old mouth. “It’s an old tradition and the lords and I believe it is best to follow it with the young and lovely union of the prince and you.”

You swallowed against the dryness in your throat, your hands suddenly clammy with unsureness. “I have not talked to Jace about such a thing. The Queen hasn’t spoken to me about it either. That’s…-What if me and Jacaerys are against it?”

A few of them chuckled as if you had made a good jest.

“My princess, is it not really a matter of choice, if you understand.” One of them explained to you before he suddenly turned away from you and addressed the others: “The wedding will be held here at Dragonstone as we know and I thought of a crowd of perhaps a dozen, mostly members of the family and this council, of course. After the celebrations, the prince will lead his bride away in the company of the Queen’s loyal and trusted advisors and then, the marriage will be consummated in a room large enough for the ceremony.”

You opened your mouth to object, but found your voice had simply vanished.

“Will there be sheets as proof in the morning?”

“I would actively support it.”

“There are clothes here at Dragonstone suited for such a ceremony, I am sure we will have them before the wedding takes place.”

“A purity test accomplished by a maester might be sufficient beforehand as well-“

You felt yourself drifting away from the conversation, one that circled around you and yet did not include you at all. Staring at the table in front of you, you felt your breath quicken as a distant howl swept through your mind, drowning out their voices as they went on and on.

In your mind, you saw yourself being led into a fully lit room. The dress you wore was thin and barely hiding your body, your arms protectively crossed in front of yourself as you shivered. The bed chamber was crowded all the way back to the tapestry of the walls with men regarding you coolly. Their hunger for the curves barely hidden underneath your dress was evident in their eyes, yet you had to walk on until you reached the middle of the room. Jacaerys was waiting, his own expression blank and without any emotion for you as he took your hand and led you to bed. There were a thousand eyes on you and you felt numb, your body screaming in protest, your mind begging you to shout at them to leave as Jace mechanically began to kiss your neck-

The wide doors of the hall opened and the men seated around you abruptly stood, their wrinkly hands brushing over their attires. The Queen was here.

You remained in your seat, your mind having drawn itself back to a hidden part in yourself, blankly staring at the fidgeting hands in your lap. When you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, the touch so familiar it could’ve been your own, you closed your eyes for just a moment. Jacaerys had come with her.

“What is going on?” Rhaenyra demanded to know, walking around the big table as she took in your uncharacteristic quiet state.

When your betrothed raised your hand to his lips in greeting, you looked up and bit your lip at Jace’s worried expression. The taste of iron coated your lips and only now you realized you had bitten your lip so badly, it had started to bleed. The pain was almost a relief.

“Are you alright?” Jace murmured, his hand delicately cupping your cheek and making you shudder. Your eyes were glassy, your cheeks red from shame and suddenly, a strong urge to cry shot through you, so intense you barely could fight it. “What is it, my love?”

You shook your head, avoiding his searching gaze.

The shame burned hotly through you and you wanted to shrink into your seat until you could escape these old devils. One of them, who had started this whole discussion about the ceremony in the first place, cleared his throat. “Your Grace, we were discussing possible arrangements for the wedding of the prince and his betrothed. There have been no mentions of the traditional bedding ceremony yet and the lords and myself were worried that-“

Rhaenyra frowned with a disgusted curl of her lips. “A bedding ceremony? There hasn’t been a tradition like this in my generation. Why would we burden the next with such an old piece of the past?”

You could sense Jace tensing beside you, his face dark as he stared at the lord. Would he look at you like this too, when the happiest day of your life would end with having to sleep with each other in front of dozens? Your chest hurt as you struggled to breathe normally.

“The princess has expressed similar concerns, but there are ways…There could be a thin veil draped over the sides of the bed.” Another suggested generously and you felt your stomach turn itself over. “Of course, it cannot shield the pair fully from the observer’s eyes. They have to be in sight, so it can be assured that she’s-“

“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Jace cut him off, close to snarling as he flexed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He remained by your side, his stance protective of you and intimidating. “Neither my mother or myself have been consulted about this before and the fact that you’ve preyed on an opportunity to bring it up in front of the princess is close to treason. And yet you’ve dared to speak of such inappropriate matters in front of my betrothed, your future Queen? I could have you hanged by the cliffs of Dragonstone for such perverted behavior.”

“My prince, with all respect, it simply is tradition. It has to be guaranteed that on the night of her wedding, the bride is a maiden-“

The sound of your chair screeching over the floor broke through the room as you stood up. The sound of your own breath was too loud in your eyes, the lump in your throat only growing by the second. “If you would excuse me, Your Grace, I’m not feeling well.”

Jacaerys stood with you, but as he reached for your hand, you had already slipped away and quickly made your escape towards the wide doors, trying to breathe against the numbing panic in your lungs.

You blindly walked down the long corridor, ignoring the questioning looks of the guards standing on the sides. Would they be there as well, to witness yours and Jace’s union, eyes on your naked body when Jace had to deflower you in front of an audience?

You choked on a sob, the tears running freely down your cheeks now, the pain in your chest only expanding from keeping it inside for so long. You had never experienced a panic like this before, a powerful tide washing all rational thoughts away and sending your brain into overdrive.

Behind you, quick footsteps were approaching and before you knew it, Jacaerys had overtaken you and blocked your path, taking your upset state in with wide eyes. Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously and you came to a halt, noting how far and fast you had walked away from the council room.

“My love…” Jacaerys mumbled quietly and stepped closer and somewhere inside of you, a dam burst and he caught you as you fell into his arms, your body wrecked with heartbreaking and breathless sobs. He wrapped his arms around you, drawing you against his chest and letting you cry, his own heart aching at the stress vibrating through your body.

“I don’t want them to see…” You sniffled miserably against his shoulder, his arms tightening protectively around your waist, one of his hands resting on the back of your head and stroking your hair. “I want our wedding night to be ours, I don’t want them in the room with us, I don’t want any of it.”

“I’m not going to allow it.” He assured you calmly, suppressing his own anger for the sake of your peace of mind. Later, he’d had time to rage and forge the feeling into action, but now the only thing that mattered was you. “They have no right to make these rules for us. You and I decide, together, okay?”

You nodded, your anxiety slowly beginning to ebb away and leaving the council room and its members behind you.

“I am so sorry I was not there with you.” Jacaerys regretfully whispered against your temple, soothingly stroking your back as you rested your tear-streaked face against his neck. “I am not going to let this slide. And I am serious, my love, I promise you; there will be no bedding ceremony, I’m not going to let them expose you like this.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes still shimmering with worried tears. “And what if we have to? I can’t do this, Jace, I would rather die-“

He gently shushed you and gently rested his forehead against yours, willing you to take big and deep breaths with him until you were breathing in sync and your shivering stopped. “We don’t have to do anything. You and I, we’ll be king and queen someday and I will not accept any disrespect towards you, not today or when we’re married, alright?”

You nodded slowly, exhaling deeply as you allowed yourself to sink against him, letting yourself be held and gently swayed from side to side. Slowly but surely, your heart stopped hurting and the clouds in your mind dissolved until you only felt him.

“Alright.” You whispered back after a while and his lips on yours, featherlight and oh so gently, were a relief after such moments of stress. When you separated and looked into each other’s eyes, you added quietly: “I want this, with you. All of it. I want our first time together to be special and a memory we’ll cherish forever.”

“And it will be, I promise.” He soothed you. “These old pathetic men will do good to remember their place before I’ll unleash Vermax on them.” He added jokingly and even managed to make you giggle a little bit at the mental image. “You know how Vermax adores you, he’ll eat them in one piece and spit them out, because they’re disgusting.”

You snorted tiredly and nuzzled his neck in affection, not ready to separate yourself from him just yet.

“My mother will deal with them.” Jace promised you darkly, a revengeful shimmer in his fierce eyes as he wiped the last of your tears away with his thumb. “And when she’s done with them, I will make sure as well they’ll remember who they answer to, my queen.”

He would deal with this.

And after he had put those foul men in their place, he’d make sure you’d be the happiest you could be and your wedding would be perfect and just the way the two of you had imagined for so long…

my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy gets arrested

Inspired by @medium-sized-ghost addition to the Original Post.

Masterpost

“So sorry about this, Mr. Wayne.”

“No, I understand. I’m just glad to see the law doing their job so well.” Bruce continues pleasantly through the police station with Commissioner Gordon leading the way.

“We’ll get this sorted out as soon as possible, but in the meantime you will need to unfortunately be placed in holding.”

“Of course. It’s really no problem, it was my mistake missing my court date like that. Time just gets away from me sometimes, you know?” Nevermind the fact that Bruce hadn’t even known about said court date or the speeding ticket it was for. He couldn’t prove which child had taken his car for a joy ride, but his prime suspects were Jason or Dick. (He would later find out that it was Stephanie upon a dare from Duke. He already attempted to banned them from playing Truth or Dare after Tim convinced Dick to do a handstand on Jason’s bike going 95 down the freeway. Not that Dick really needed any convincing.)

“Well you’re in luck, one cell is mostly empty.” It was a small cell closer to the front. Bruce could see a teenager laying on the bench to the right. Gordon opened the door and stood to the side so Bruce could enter and locked the door behind him. “Would you like anything to drink? Water? Coffee?”

Bruce smiled, “No, thank you.” Gordon nodded and looked past Bruce at the only other occupant in the cell, “What about you kid? Anything?”

Bruce watched as the kid, one he unfortunately recognized, lifted his arm from where it was thrown over his eyes and waved it in the air at the commissioner, “I’m good.” The arm went back down. Gordon grunted, “alright Officer Mitchell is keeping watch, call out if either of you need anything.”

With that Bruce was left alone with the boy who had befuddled and befriended his many children. He sat on the opposite bench and thought about how best to approach the young man. Danny had never responded well to Batman and there was no telling how he would respond to Bruce. According to Tim, Danny actually had some respect for Bruce and the money he dumped into bettering Gotham. (When it was announced that the public library was being renovated Danny had interrogated Tim about it and then offered his own opinions on how to involve more of the general population.)

Bruce didn’t think the time called for his “Brucie” persona and he couldn’t be Batman at the moment. He could approach the boy in a “fatherly” manner but that approach rarely worked on his own kids, he didn’t think it would work on this one.

“Have you called anyone?”

Danny looked out from under his arm and stared at Bruce suspiciously. In hindsight it was a creepy question.

Bruce brought his hands up and breathed a laugh, “I’m sorry, I meant have you been given your one phone call?” Danny didn’t move. “Why? You a lawyer?” He eyed Bruce in his nice suit and watch.

Bruce smiled at the boy, “goodness no, I don’t have the attention span for law school. I actually did pre-med before dropping out.”

Danny seemed too curl a little more into himself. It was the most cautious Bruce had ever seen him. He was locked in a Gotham police cell with a man in an expensive suit who seemed completely unconcerned about being arrested, it was wise on Danny’s part to be wary.

Bruce stuck out his hand, “Bruce Wayne.” Slowly, Danny sat up and crossed his arm scoffing, “why would Bruce Wayne be in a holding cell?” Bruce continued to smile at the kid and shrugged, his hand still in the air, “speeding ticket I’m afraid, missed my court date. I do have to say, though, the updated traffic cameras are a good investment by the police department.” “Wayne Enterprises payed for them.” “We did?” Bruce asked, knowing full well it was to give Oracle better camera footage. “You were at the press release.” “Huh.” Bruce looked thoughtful for a minute, “mm no, not ringing any bells. I go to so many of those press conferences, they just bleed together after a while.” “Mhm.” Danny still didn’t take the offered hand. Bruce sighed and let it drop back to his lap, “I’d offer to show you my ID but I don’t exactly have it on me.”

They sat and watched each other for a minute. Danny shifted and seemed to make a decision, “I work at a coffee shop and one of your sons is a regular.” Bruce slapped his thigh as if a light bulb suddenly went off, “You’re Danny! Tim’s mentioned you! You know he’s the only one with a weakness for caffeine, the others like to tease him but I don’t think he has an addiction. However, he does seem to spend a lot of time at that shop.” Bruce leaned forward as if confiding a secret, “to be honest, I think he has a bit of a crush on you.”

Dropping his own arms, Danny sighed. “Yeah, he’s not really that subtle.”

“No, I’m afraid he’s never been good at that. At least not when he’s interested in someone.” Tim was great at subtlety when it came to the mission but never in his personal life. The funny part was he didn’t even draw that distinction on purpose.

“I called a family friend. To answer your question. He should be here soon.” Bruce nodded, “so you do have people you can rely on in town?” “I could have a whole family I can rely on in this city.” Danny said, catching the older man's slip. He shifts further in his seat and stared hard at Bruce.

Bruce knew Danny had no one in town. He did the background check, Danny's whole family lived in Ohio with the exception of his older sister who was in one of the top psychology programs in the country. They seemed to visit each other often but rarely their parents.

The older man dawned an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, I assumed when you said ‘a family friend’.” Bruce leaned back against the wall behind him, “are you from Gotham?”

“No,” Danny shifted further back in his seat and didn’t take his eyes off Bruce.

It was different from how the boy interacted with Batman. To the billionaires alter ego Danny was defiant and outspoken. He always seemed to say what was on his mind, completely uncaring of the audience he had.

——-

“Mr. Fenton, your god-father is here for you.”

Danny never thought he’d feel this relieved to know Vlad was picking him up. While Mr. Wayne had been nothing but polite, something about the man felt off. Danny also didn’t appreciate the questions. What was it to this man if Danny had family near by or not?

One of the cops opens the door with Vlad in his nice suit and overly polished shoes right behind him.

“Daniel, let’s not make this a habit.”

“I was just feeding the homeless dogs!”

“Strays.” Vlad corrected, “while trespassing?”

Danny rolled his eyes and continued pass his “uncle”.

“How am I supposed to know an abandoned building is considered ‘private property’?”

Vlad just sighed.

——

Bonus:

Stephanie would continue to stick to her story, thank you very much. She had every right to punch the creep and she wasn’t backing down. Not even if “the creep” was apparently the son of a very influential prosecutor. A corrupt one, but he was influential nonetheless. Such is the justice system in Gotham.

Even if it landed her in a police station, handcuffed to a desk while said creep cried about the bloody nose she gave him.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she crossed her legs and continued to glare at the door way that led to the holding cells. It was her night off and she still had to deal with this godforsaken city’s degenerate citizens. God forbid she have a day off.

It was while glaring at said door that Steph noticed a familiar boy walking out with a gentleman she wasn’t familiar with. He was a little behind Danny but reached out and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him just before leaving the hallway. Steph slid her gaze away but kept her ears open, grateful she was close enough to hear.

“You need to be more careful, Daniel.”

Danny didn’t respond and Steph looked over to see him pull his shoulder away and start walking again.

“You didn’t have to come all this way to bail me out. I could have called Jazz or Sam.”

“Nonsense, it’s good to get out of Wisconsin.”

Steph wrinkled her nose, Wisconsin? The pair continued out of ear shot and shortly out of the station.

When Bruce was released a few minutes later, Stephanie smiled and took great joy in his obvious (to any member of his family) despair and exasperation at seeing her.

Part 8

[hopeastrz]

STELLIUMS IN SOLAR RETURN CHART tips and tricks on what to avoid and how to benefit from them!˙✧˖°🥮 ༘ ⋆｡˚‧.

CHECK OUT SEPTEMBER SALE: fixed price on any and all of my readings even solar return chart, INSTEAD OF 44, IT'S 17 DOLLARS ONLY.

If you don’t have a 3 planet stellium, see where you have 2 planets, so for example if you have sun and mercury on the 3rd house and mars and saturn on the 7th read about both houses!.

NOTE: enjoy this post and don’t forget to reblog, thank you for your support, lots of love xoxo!! ₊˚⊹౨ৎ🍊.

STELLIUM IN THE FIRST HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, get a nice haircut, get to know your approach to life more, get to know your direction in life and what may be the next step for you, it’ll be a year of self discovery journey, and it’s the best year to work on your approach of life, you should focus more on your style, see what suits you and what doesn’t, work on your self concept and build your confidence and also it’s the greatest time to find your passion!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Becoming aggressive, moody or be hard on yourself, becoming critical/judgmental of others and yourself!, not taking care of yourself, shy away from spotlight don’t hesitate to!, becoming way too self centered and thinking that people reactions are because something you’ve done!.

STELLIUM IN THE SECOND HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Buy new makeup, perfumes, work on your self worth, start investing money I don’t care even if you have saturn on the 2nd house start a business and earn from it!, since it’s a saving year indicator, one where you look for more stability and comfort, take care of your finances and learn more about how money works!, learn to manage your money right and spend it wisely, become strict!, it’s really good time to start giving old things in order to welcome new ones, like old clothes or possessions, since you may have this urge to keep buying new things, and in order to keep balance learn to donate your stuff, good karma and do that especially if you have saturn!, start singing loudly too it’ll be healing!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Spend wisely so that you don’t cry at the end of the year, don’t waste the opportunity and reconsider you values, set firm boundaries and goals, also don’t waste time and truly buy stuff you only need!, never put your emotional health and security second place, care more about your feelings!.

STELLIUM IN THE THIRD HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Whenever you feel anxious journal, or go on a car ride even if you don’t have a car, call a cab or go on a bus and put your headphones on, but it’s an amazing time to work on how you introduce yourself, or in other words practice how to talk your mind, communicate with people, and how to share your opinions properly!. it’s a great year to learn about the law of assumption, get closer to your siblings or your neighbors, you can buy a new cell phone, get lots of phone calls and even do lots of social activity or finish high school!, if you suck at maths that year is pretty good to learn the basics again and educate yourself on it, also go on short trips find new interests and start a social media account.

WHAT TO AVOID:

DO. NOT. OVERSHARE. learn how to shut up when needed and i know you’ll have an urge to talk to no end but please shut up!, also don’t indulge yourself into gossip it’ll end up being so messy, try to stop overthinking and don’t believe any rumor you hear!, also take care of your siblings!.

STELLIUM IN THE FOURTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

great time to go back to your roots, aka work on your family trauma or stuck issues with your family and heal from them!, you may start a new family, become a parent, settle down, buy a new apartment or move from your home, so to have a fresh it’s okay to forgive them!, heal your inner child and read more about such topics, focus on your emotional needs and understand yourself more, if you’re a fem then lean into it more, get closer to your mother, decorate your room, also it’s a great time to buy properties and invest or learn cooking and baking yummy yummy!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

getting into fights with your parents because they’ll get on your nerves alot!, so for your mental health pay them no mind!, don’t keep your place messy.

STELLIUM IN THE FIFTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

EVERYTHING, i love love loveee this placement and not just for the romance nuh uh, as a woman who doesn’t even date I’ve had the most fun on year i had 5th house placements, go to concerts, festivals and arcades, party and enjoy your life really, you won’t feel like you wasted your money on these things trust me, go to an art course, go to movie theater!, just go out and don’t stay at home!, also enjoy your talents and get ready for the spotlight!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

hookups, unprotected sex since it might lead to sudden pregnancies, getting lost at new places, getting a bit over the head, be careful of becoming narcissistic or kinda full of yourself!, also choose your romance partner carefully don’t rush into love, because you’ll see the world in heart tainted sunglasses this year!.

STELLIUM IN THE SIXTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Think about getting a glow up, it’s the best time for self improvement, plan a routine and follow it, even if you found it hard to build one before it’ll feel easier this year to stick to it!, greatest time to start a series of new habits, work on your body and focus on your health, try building muscles, bulking, going to the gym or walking more, try to journal, read frequently and heal your skin, do some skin care, also get your body checked, get along with your coworkers and focus more on how to make the best out of your job!, routine will never fail you oh and maybe get a pet too!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Avoid over stressing/overtiring yourself, ignore your health or hygiene, avoid going into fights with your coworkers, beware of becoming a people pleaser or give more than you take to others, beware of stray animals, don’t go on a very strict diet especially if you have pluto on the 6th house!.

STELLIUM IN THE SEVENTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

start a business with others, or start your own business, go for that lawsuit, look for that long term partner or take the step for up leveling your current relationship. Incase of getting married enjoy the process of this new era!, it’s the best time to test your partner and see if they’re worthy enough of you!, also enjoy the feeling of becoming extra attractive!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Beware of getting into useless conflicts, don’t be over concerned of others, beware of love affairs especially if you’re already dating someone, beware of getting scammed i’d say don’t take the step of business partnership if you have uranus or neptune influence on the 7th house.

STELLIUM IN THE EIGHTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Embrace new major transformations, get ready for change and allow it!, explore your sexuality more, invest, join the stock market (don’t if you have neptune or uranus), learn spiritual practices because you’ll get more spiritual, best times to learn astrology and tarot, keep secrets, learn more about psychology, do that plastic surgery you’ve had in mind if needed only, also heal your trauma.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Go against the flow and get scared of the rebirth you need to go through, hate the constant change and how intense your emotions could be.

STELLIUM IN THE NINTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Choose a different college major, adopt new beliefs and focus on your higher education, travel more, good time to visit your grandparents, try to stay with them more, learn a new language, learn about you religion and just literally learn anything!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Going to a country without any background of their culture is!, see what’s appropriate to do and what’s not, ignore your university studies or just basically getting distracted!.

STELLIUM IN THE TENTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Time to build your legacy, go all out!, also work on your reputation, time to build the public persona you dreamt of, set long term goals and know what you want to be in the next 5 years, fulfill your responsibilities and get ready for recognition!, also fix your problems with your father, get closer to your bosses, network!, build a professional name and really get serious about building your career!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Doing things that’s harmful or shady for your reputation, avoid suspicious things this year because everyone will have you on the tip of their tongue. Not taking your responsibilities and your work seriously, disrespecting your bosses, procrastinating, not being professional or efficient.

STELLIUM IN THE ELEVENTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Networking for your career, become more social, meet new people, change your toxic friends circle, cut who you don’t feel comfortable with!, go out more, learn about the law of assumption, manifest your desires, GET THAT BAG, start a new social media account or an online business and earn from it!, very high potential for success, watch new films, save to buy a new phone or laptop, know what you hope and wish for in the future to aim for it, make your debut in society and share your work and talents, go to parties, donate to some organizations and also join a club!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Letting toxic people stay in your life this is the best time to cut them, don’t know anything about politics or have any sense of social awareness, be shy and miss lots of opportunities, not knowing you boundaries when it comes to friends and relationships!.

STELLIUM IN THE TWELFTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Heal, this is a rest era for you, take some time for yourself and heal, repay your karmic debts, focus more on your dreams and try interpreting them, see the messages they have for you, tame your subconscious mind for your own benefit, become more spiritual and seriously, take this time to explore your emotions more and your inner self, find your peace and find solitude in yourself!, best time to end toxic habits and relationships, basically anything you want to stop, listen to subliminals, affirmation tapes, cherish your privacy and stay private, reflect on the past and break free from what’s holding you back, also sleep more and attempt a healthy sleeping schedule, oh and eat fish lmao.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Repeating old cycle, this is really an opportunity to change!, ignore your dreams, become isolated, become depressed because you’ll trauma will surface so HEAL, ignore your subconscious mind needs and thought patterns, drink or consume alcohol, beware of addictions.

[nathaslosthershit]

How Old? (LH44) [Blind Items AU]

(Part 7 in the Blind Items AU [can be read separately]) Summary: A driver, unknown to the public, seems to have found himself a younger girlfriend. There isn't anything morally (nor legally) wrong with the relationship, and the pair are doing quite well in their private bliss, but the internet likes to insert itself in other's business. Luckily, Lewis is doing too good to care about what the internet has to say.

‘Young, dumb, impressionable girls who don’t know any better’. Lewis laughed at the thought. 

He had met his girlfriend 3 years ago when she was 24, because no, she wasn’t 25. They had immediately clicked, being introduced by a mutual friend. His girl had just finished getting her PhD in child psychology, because she was far from a ‘dumb girl’. She had accelerated in her schooling from the time she started school. She worked with special programs to continuously learn at her level, not her age level. The party they met at was her graduation party that Lewis’ friend had invited him to, thinking the two would go well together.

Lewis would be lying if he said her age wasn’t something he considered when they both began to like each other. But it was more so that they were in very different stages career-wise. She was in a transitional period from school to practicing, and with the upcoming move to Ferrari, Lewis didn't know what his future looked like. How could they make a relationship work when their careers were their highest priority?

So they didn’t date, remaining ‘friends’ and seeing each other whenever possible. 

That was until around a year after they met.

One night, after Lewis had been having one of the best racing seasons in a while, and after she had been succeeding in her clinical trials, proving just how much this was the perfect path for her, Lewis came over to celebrate. 

Tensions had been building up since they had agreed to keep it friendly because they simply couldn’t commit to a relationship right now. That night though, it reached its peak.

Neither had been drinking, drunk purely on lust. After two hours of dinner and good conversation, one experimental kiss led to another, which led to a longer kiss, then full on making out, until the two were in a frenzy of trying to take the others’ clothes off as fast as humanly possible. 

That night then led to a weird period for the two. They cared for each other deeply, talked like a couple, acted like a couple, but when asked by friends on the status of their relationship, it was simply a friendship with ‘hot and passionate’ sex on the side. 

Nothing more, even though they both wanted so much more. But they refused to talk about committing again. 

That was till she found out she was pregnant. 

They had been careful, condoms and birth control, but it was just some freak accident, or a blessing.

She couldn’t tell Lewis for about a month, as he was on a triple header in F1 which thankfully ended in summer break. 

By then, she had enough time to sit and think about what she wanted. It wouldn’t be easy, both their careers are demanding. If it was anyone but him, she would have had way more doubt in her partner’s ability to balance both, but she had no doubt Lewis would be anything but an amazing father. 

She was about 9 weeks when she saw him again. They had made plans to go on vacation for a week during the break (supposedly as friends, even though Lewis had booked them a honeymoon suite), so she knew she had to ask right away, before they went on vacation. The last thing she needed was things going wrong and being stuck in the South of France, pregnant, with a man who didn’t want to be a father.

“I’m pregnant.” She blurted out the moment she opened the door. 

They both stared at each other wide eyed. She hadn’t meant to say it straight away. 

Instead of clarifying, she immediately turned around and went to the kitchen. Lewis reluctantly followed, confused as to if she wanted to talk to him at the moment. 

She refused to look at him, busying herself with getting plates and utensils for the takeout Lewis had picked up.

“Are we- are we going to talk about it?” He asked. She turned around to finally look at him, seeing as he slowly walked towards her with his hands in the air.

“God, Lewis, I am pregnant, not a kicked puppy, I'm not going to bite if you come near me.” He quickly put his hands down. 

Silence fell as they both looked at each other, wishing the other one would talk first. When that didn’t happen, they both gave in, speaking over each other. “No- sorry you first.” He said.

“No, no its okay you can go.”

Once again they were both silent, til they both chose the exact same time to speak. It was thankfully what the situation needed. They laughed, immediately severing the tension and awkwardness in the room. 

As they finally calmed down, Lewis said, “So… what are we going to do?”

No ‘what are you going to do’, no immediate shut down. She was once again grateful that out of all people in the world, it was Lewis who was by her side.

“Its… hard and most would say it is not the right time for either of us. But I want to be a mother, and I want to do so now.” 

“Okay, do you still need time to think or-”

“No, no- I have had a month to think and my decision hasn’t changed since the moment I found out.” 

Now was the most stressful part, waiting for what he would say, how he would react.

“Then we can make this work, we can find a way around any complications. There is no one I’d rather do this with, honey.” 

The two of them sat in silence, but it was a comfortable silence, both envisioning the future they were going to work for, a future they were going to achieve no matter what. 

That had been almost two years ago, and they had been happy and in love ever since. Even more so when their healthy baby girl was born. 

A content smile covered Lewis’ face as his girlfriend walked in, holding their daughter. 

“What’s got you so happy?” 

“Just my two wonderful girls.” He responded.

She rolled her eyes, “Such a sap you old man. Will you please come help me build the chair for the baby’s room now?”

Happy to oblige, Lewis shut his phone and got up to help his girlfriend, completely forgetting about what the internet had to say about his private life.

[silkentine]

Okay okay okay everyone be cool.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! IT’S SANJI’S TURN!!! I think my bias really shines through by the fact that there are four illustrations rather than my usual three. Not to mention… this isn’t even half of the busts that I’ve drawn and also none of these are post-timeskip. I need to make a whoooole other character sheet for post-timeskip Sanji. She changes a lot in two years.

But I digress, here are my design notes for Sanji: (WARNING includes discussion of Sanji’s journey during the timeskip. There are also some super duper minor vague spoilers for whole cake island but those are written in blue so you can skip over them easily.)

So personality wise, I wanted to keep a lot of her complex relationship with femininity and gender. She grew up under the care of super butch Zeff who taught her that being a girl doesn’t mean that you have to be girly; in fact, it’s probably best if you toughen up so you can protect people who need it. Sanji takes this to heart and becomes a total tomboy, she believes that she’s rejected her feminine side completely.

She’s also a diehard romantic!! She’s the dashing prince who has come to save every damsel she comes across. She finds it very easy to flirt with women because it was very much the modus operandi on the Baratie, but she’s all talk. She gets flustered very easily once any romantic endeavor starts to bear fruit. She’ll make some poignant revelations about why once she lives in the Kamabakka Kingdom.

So why isn’t she wearing a suit? Because I’m a whore for an apron. It’s the perfect way to establish the silhouette of a dress but maintain a clean, utilitarian appearance. Fem!Sanji is more line-cook than waitress, but she DOES wear menswear pieces. I’ve put her in a silk vest with flared slacks in one outfit and she’s sporting that cute tie from Long Ring Long Land in another. Very preppy. I think she mostly wears tidier versions of Sanji’s more casual outfits: patterned button ups, cargo shorts, tees. She is religious about keeping her nails clean and manicured though. As fussy as canon Sanji is about his suits? Fem!Sanji is tenfold more fussy about her nails. She never wears polish (it could chip into the food) but her digits are trimmed perfectly and buffed to a shine.✨

She has a birthmark(?) at the nape of her neck that isn’t a scar but doesn’t tan. No one’s ever noticed it before because she was pretty good about staying inside when she lived on the Baratie but, now that she’s out adventuring on a much smaller ship, she finds herself basking in the sun more often and the mark is becoming more defined. She would be mortified to know it was there, especially since it doesn’t show up on the four other people who have similar marks because their skin cells are invulnerable to UV. (Inspired by @themetalhiro )

I love Sanji so so so so so so much. This design is like… 50% what I wish I looked like, 49% what I think is hot, and 1% forced-feminized transponder snail. I’ll have so much more to say about her characterization when I post the next version. Let me know your thoughts in the replies!!

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 9

Word Count- 5.5k

Warnings- Swearing, reader going through A LOT, slight self harm, violence

In and out. In and out. In and out. Oh god, why isn’t this working?!

“Y/n, just take a deep breath,” Elena says from her seated position on the dirt-covered ground of the Salvatore’s creepy ass dungeon. 

“Oh, thank you, Oh Wise One for that great advice,” I sarcastically shoot back to her as I continue my pacing. Back and forth, back and forth.

“Why are you so nervous? I thought you liked Elijah?”

Her question has me rubbing my hands over my face in exhaustion as I try not to roll my eyes at my best friend. When she called me asking to hang out this morning I thought “Oh cool girl time!” What I didn’t expect was us resurrecting a one-thousand-year-old vampire. But now that I’m thinking about it, that’s on me. When it comes to Elena it’s highly unlikely that her days don’t include something that is going to get either one of us maimed or murdered.

“It’s not Elijah I’m worried about,” That’s a slight lie. Ever since Elena told me she’s going to wake him up I’ve felt nauseous, “I’m worried about the two vampire brothers that are obsessed with you and are totally going to murder me when they find out I went along for this stupid ride!”

Elena shoots me an Are you serious look, “They’re not going to murder you.”

I shoot her back the same look, “Oh so you’re telling me that Damon Salvatore is going to be oh so okay with this little plan of yours? Is that why you haven’t told him?”

At that question, Elena sighs. She opens her mouth to reply but a sharp inhale from behind me has me jumping in surprise, and Elena quickly rises from her seated position. 

I turn around to see Elijah gasping for breath, his skin still grey and veiny and the suit he’s wearing has definitely seen better days. Elena kneels down next to him and I walk behind her as Elijah looks at Elena like he doesn’t know who she is. 

“Katerina,” Elijah leans on his elbows and then he must’ve noticed my presence as he glances up at me. His already wide eyes somehow open more, “You!”

I flinch back at the familiarity in his eyes as he searches my entire frame frantically. 

“No Elijah, it’s Elena,” Elena gestures to herself and then to me, “and Y/n.”

This knocks Elijah out of whatever stupor he was in as he leans his head back onto the dirty ground and seems to fall unconscious. Elena glances at me over her shoulder and I just shrug my shoulders, not really knowing what to do in this situation. I watch wearily as she leans down closer and flinches backward as Elijah abruptly rolls to his side yelling. I fight the urge to gag as I hear his bone cracking as he roughly stands himself up. 

“I can’t, I can’t breathe,” Elijah says distressed and then he falls back towards the ground huffing, “What’s happening to me?”

Elena and I just watch speechless and in the blink of an eye Elijah flashes forward but ends up knocking into the wall. If this was any other situation I’d probably be laughing my ass off. I watch as Elena jumps up and helps him stand I come up behind them and hold onto Elijah’s other elbow to stabilize him.

“I can’t…I can’t be in this house.”

I frown as Elena realizes what’s happening, “You’re not invited in.”

“Then get me out of here.”

Elijah thrusts himself out of our grips and flashes upstairs hastily. I run behind Elena and stop as we come to the front door where Elijah is hunched over. We walk over to him but Elena puts out a hand to stop me from going any further. This seems to worsen Elijah’s already angry mood as his eyes darken at my friend. He flashes forward but the invisible supernatural barrier stops him.

“What happened,” Elijah speaks but Elena shushes him. Elena may have the survival instincts of a toddler, but damn the girl is ballsy. 

She gestures to her ear to let him know that we could be heard, “I’ll tell you. Not here. Can we trust you?”

Elena’s question has Elijah raising a brow and then glancing at me momentarily before turning back towards her, “Can I trust you?”

Elena nods before handing over the silver dagger to Elijah, who slowly takes it.

I should really stop answering Elena’s phone calls. 

—

Ten minutes later, the three of us are driving to the Mayor’s house. Elena is driving while Elijah is in the passenger seat drinking from a blood bag. I have been fighting the urge yet again to gag ever since Elena pulled out the first one for him. But, the blood seems to be doing him good since his veiny skin has almost returned to its once-normal color. I am currently watching the two from my position in the backseat of Elena’s car. The entire car ride has been filled with tension as Elijah glares at Elena and the ladder only sends him sheepish looks in return. Elijah has not once turned to glance at me like he would before he was daggered. Before I was annoyed with his staring but I think I’m now more annoyed by him not staring. God, I need to get a grip.

Elena pulls over puts the car in park and turns to Elijah, “You look better.”

“Where did you get the dagger?”

“I’ll tell you everything. But we have to work together, Elijah. I need your word.”

“Your ability to make demands has long passed.”

Elena nods, “No demands. I’m offering you my help. And in return I want yours.”

“And why should I even consider this?”

“The same reason you haven’t killed me. You need my help to kill Klaus. And I need you.” 

Their conversation is interrupted by Elena’s phone ringing. Uh oh. Elena answers the phone but I’m unable to hear who’s on the other end. But from Elena’s voice, I’m going to assume it’s Stefan. 

“Yes, I’m fine…. He’s right here... No Stefan, Elijah, Y/n and I need some time alone… Yes, Y/n is here aswell.”

At this, I lean forward towards Elena’s phone, “Hey Stefan!”

Elena looks at me, “He says Hi.”

I smile to myself and lean back in my seat.

Elena looks over at Elijah, who I now realize can hear everything Stefan is saying so I’m the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on. Typical. 

“Elijah is a noble man, Stefan. He lives by a code of honor. I can trust him. He knows that I’d be incredibly stupid to betray him again. By removing the dagger, I have proven myself… It’s my decision, Stefan. Please respect it. And make sure that Damon doesn’t do anything stupid.”

I snort at that because I just know Damon is indeed going to do something stupid. 

“I’ll be in touch,” And with that, she ends the call. 

Elena and Elijah stare at each other for a moment before he places out his palm for her phone. She sighs as she gives it to him and I almost laugh until Elijah’s hand comes towards me. 

“Seriously,” I groan but am not met with a response. Asshole. I feel like a child getting her toys taken away as I toss my phone into Elijah’s palm. Elijah puts the phones in his suit. I wonder how many pockets he’s got in that thing?

“He’s here,” Elena’s words have me sitting up in my seat.

“Klaus is here?”

“He’s taken over Alaric’s body.”

“Of course he has. It’s one of his favorite tricks.”

“He’s quite the people person,” I say sarcastically under my breath, but Elijah must’ve heard it as he whips around in his seat and his eyes widen as he looks at me.

“You met him,” His tone has a tinge of worry and I just nod slightly. 

“Well ya, he taught my history class, not very well might I add, and I think I called him an asshole at one point. I don’t understand how you were able to spend years with him. One afternoon with him and I’m already planning his demise.”

“Did he hurt you?”

My eyebrows furrow and I shake my head, “Other than my ears. No. He said I wasn’t on his hit list. Do I remember that right Lena?”

Elena nods from her seat. 

Elijah stares at me before his eyes trail to my right thigh for a split moment. I frown at him before he turns back in his seat. 

“What are his other tricks? What is he gonna do next? You’re the only one who knows him,” Elena asks Elijah.

“Yes, I do.”

—

“Great, this lady,” I say under my breath as Ms. Lockwood opens her front door for us. Elijah sends her a warm smile that is quite clearly fake. 

“Elijah, Elena, what are you doing here? What happened,” Shes asks and I fight the urge to tell her I’m here too. 

“I’ve had a bit of an incident, Carol. I’m hoping you could help.”

“Well, I’m on my way to a meeting, so I-”

Elijah steps forward, “We won’t take but a minute of your time.”

After a moment Carol’s face brightens, “Of course. Anything you need.”

He thanks her as we walk through the threshold of the house. 

“Well, first things first. I’m going to need a change of clothing.”

“Well, we can try one of my husband’s suits. I haven’t boxed them up yet.”

“Wonderful.”

Ms. Lockwood walks away and Elena turns to Elijah, “How did you know she’s not on vervain? 

“Cause I’m the one who got her off it. Right before you and your friends killed me, twice. If you’ll excuse me. I’ll be done in a moment.”

Elijah walks off and Elena and I stare at each other, “Well this seems to be going well,” I say sarcastically and Elena rolls her eyes.

—

I hold the glass of water in my hands tentatively as I watch Elena watch Elijah who glances around the parlor we’re currently sitting in. I’m sitting next to Elena on a sofa while Elijah sits on a chair across from us. 

“So, I assume the Martin witches are no longer with us.”

“No,” Elena says softly, “I’m sorry.”

“And Katerina. She would’ve been released from my compulsion when I died.”

“Klaus took her. We think that she may be dead.”

Elijah smirks, “I doubt that. Not Klaus’ style,” To which I nod my head in agreement. If some crazy guy has been tracking her for over 500 years I doubt he’ll give her a quick death.

“Death would be too easy for her after what she did.”

“I don’t understand. You say that you want Klaus dead. But you still made Katherine pay for betraying him.”

“I have my own reasons for wanting Katerina to pay. There was a time... I’d done anything for Klaus.”

“Were you guys like dating or something,” I ask which has Elijah turning to me with a disgusted look. 

“No, we were not…” He pinches the bridge of his nose, “dating. Klaus is my brother.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. 

I sit here with my mouth hung open as Elena seems just in as much shock as I am, “I heard that. I’m still processing.”

“Yes, I’m a little behind on the times But I believe the term you’re searching for is O-M-G.”

Elijah just sips his tea as he watches both of us go through the stages of shock.

“Y/n sweetheart, close your mouth or you’re jaw will start hurting,” I slowly close my mouth at Elijah’s words and he watches me with a smirk. 

—

“There’s a whole family of Originals,” Elena asks Eljjah as he goes to stand by the unlit fireplace. I stare at the fireplace and go back into thought of the other night. Staring at the lit embers of the Salvatore’s fireplace and the red-hot rage I felt when I believed that Klaus had killed Bonnie. There’s been moments in my life where I’d felt angry or upset about things but never in my life had I felt that amount of anger. Just thinking back to it has me clenching my fists in my lap. I’m not an angry person. I’m not a bad person. So why could all I think about was making Klaus hurt?

“Y/n? Are you listening?”

I look over to see Elena looking at me wearily. I stare at her blankly and then look to Eijah who is already staring at me. He looks down at my clenched fists and his lips move downwards. 

“What were you saying,” I ask Elijah trying to sound nonchalant as I place my hands under my legs. 

Elijah stares at me for a moment almost unsure before he clears his throat, “My father was a wealthy land owner in a village in eastern Europe. Our mother bore seven children.”

Elena stands from her seat, “So your parents were human?”

Her question has me wanting to roll my eyes. What an idiotic question. I make myself uncomfortable with that thought though and how cruel and unlike me it was.

“Our whole family was. Our origin as vampires is a very long story, Elena. Just know…we’re the oldest vampires in the world. We are the Orignal family. And from us all, vampires were created.”

“Right, but Klaus is your brother. And you want him dead?”

“I need some air. I’m still feeling a tad… dead,” He walks past Elena and I towards the front door, “Come.”

I take a deep breath as I stand up and walk behind Elena and Elijah. Hoping a walk in the fresh air will clear my thoughts. But when I look down at one of my opened palms I freeze. Raising my hand I see four red fingernail cuts with slight specks of blood around them. My eyebrows furrow as I look at the wound. Did I just do this to myself?

“Y/N, are you coming,” I look to see Elena standing by the threshold waiting for me. I nod as I put my injured hand in the pocket of my sweatshirt and put that under “Problems for another day” slot.

—

“So as you’ve seen’ nothing can kill an Original. Not sun, not fire, not even a werewolf bite. Only the wood from one tree. A tree, my family made sure burned.”

“That’s where the white ash for the dagger comes from.”

“Yes. The witches won’t allow anything truly immortal to walk the earth. Every creature needs to have a weakness in order to maintain the balance,” Elijah responds as he leads us through the garden at the Mayor’s house. I trail behind him and Elena not feeling exactly ecstatic for yet another history lesson.

“So the sun can’t kill an Original. Why is Klaus so obsessed with breaking the sun and moon curse?”

Elijah smiles, “Right. The curse of the sun and the moon. It’s all so…Biblical-sounding don’t you think?”

Elijah looks at both of us oddly, “What’s so funny?”

I listen with eyebrows drawn together as Elijah tells us about the time years ago when Klaus drew the drawings for the curse.

“I don’t understand…Klaus drew the Aztec sketches about the curse?”

“Roman scrolls, African tribal etchings and any other culture or continent we felt like planting it in.”

Elena still seems confused, “But why?”

“Easiest way to discover the existence of a doppelganger or get your hands on some lost, lost moon stone is to have every single member of two warring species on the lookout.”

“So it’s not Aztec at all?”

From the smirk on Elijah’s face and the oddness of this all I’m going to take a wild guess here, “It’s a decoy isn’t it?”

Elijah seems happy with my connection and nods his head, “The curse of the sun and moon is fake. It doesn’t exist.”

We walk with Elijah some more before he starts talking again, “Klaus and I faked the sun and moon curse dating back over a thousand years.”

Elena shakes her head, “But if there’s no curse…”

Elijah cuts her off, “There’s a curse. Just not that one. The real one’s much worse. It’s a curse placed on Klaus.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Klaus has been trying to break it for over the last thousand years. And you were his only hope.”

“Well, what is this curse?’’

Elijah doesn’t answer as he reaches into his chest pocket and pulls out Elena’s ringing phone, “Your phone won’t stop its incessant buzzing. Answer it, please.”

Elena grabs the phone and answers the phone call from who I’m guessing is Stefan but her mood instantly changes to what I think is fear. I step closer to her trying to hear what Stefan’s saying but I can’t. 

“No…no,no,no…Okay I’ll be right there.”

“Elena what happened,” I ask her.

“Klaus went after Jenna. I have to go to her.”

“I’m afraid that wasn’t a part of the day’s arrangement.”

I get heavily annoyed at this, “Well obviously she didn’t plan for your brother to go after Jenna,” I turn to Elena, “You go I’ll stay here.”

Elena looks at me wearily and I know in any other situation she wouldn’t leave me alone but it’s Jenna we’re talking about here. 

“I’ll be back,” She turns to Elijah, “You have my word.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me until you live up to it.”

Elena thanks him and with one last look at me she runs back to her car. Elijah and I stand there silently as we watch Elena’s car roll out of the driveway and out of sight. The silence is anything but comfortable as I stand still watching the road. From my peripheral though I can see Elijah now staring at me.

“God, you need to decide if you want to ignore me or stare at me,” I grunt as I start walking back towards a white picnic table overlooking the pond. I can hear Elijah’s footsteps behind me.

“You’re upset with me,” He says matter-of-factly.

I place my ass down on the seat and Elijah sits himself on the other side of the table. He watches me and I just stare at him for a moment before huffing. Honestly, I am not mad at him and I’m not sure why I’m as agitated as I am.

“No, I’m not.”

Elijah quirks a brow, “My mistake,” He smirks slightly but it drops when he sees my blank stare.

“Let me see,” He reaches his hand across the table with his palm open.

“You already have my phone, remember.”

“Not your phone. Your hand. I could smell the blood on it the second you cut yourself. Now, let me see.”

“No,” I say defiantly.

“Y/n…I just want to see it,” I look back over to him and the small smile on his face has some of the agitation I’m feeling slip away. 

I bring my hand up and show it to him, “It’s not a big deal.”

Elijah takes my hand in his and he brushes his fingers over the small wounds. He has a deep frown on his face as he looks back up to me.

“Did I make you do this?”

I shake my head in confusion, “What? Why would you ask that?”

“When I was telling my family’s history I saw how you seemed to check out. Was it something I had said?”

I stare at him and his almost saddened face for a moment before clenching my eyes and taking a deep breath, “No, Elijah. It wasn’t something you said.”

“Then what was it,” At his continuous questioning a surge of annoyance builds within me again. 

“Jesus, why do you care,” My burst of emotions don’t seem to set him off and he just sends me a small smile. 

“When it comes to you I’ll always care.”

I take my hand from his but he doesn’t move his empty one from the table between us. As if waiting for me to place mine back in his. After a moment he reluctantly brings his hand back to his person. 

“Why,” I ask him.

“You know I can’t tell you that right now.”

His shrug off has my anger bursting again and I glare down at the table in front of me.

“How long has this been going on?”

I send him a look, “How long has what been going on?”

He looks at me like I’m a puzzle with a missing piece, “The bursts of emotions and anger you’ve been feeling. I can see it clearly from your face and your body. Something’s angering you. And if you say it’s not me than what is it?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Elijah gives me a “Are you serious” look, “So I can take away whatever is paining you.”

I think to myself for a moment before responding, “Well lucky for both of us if everything goes as planned than what is paining me will meet his demise soon enough.”

At my admission Elijah sits back slightly, “You’re talking about Klaus?”

I nod and Elijah’s frown deepens, “I thought you said he didn’t hurt you.”

“He didn’t, other than a few choices words and the way he acted around me, we didn’t interact much. But he did hurt Bonnie. And when I thought she was dead all I could think about was how much I wanted him to hurt.”

I look up to Elijah waiting for whatever unnerved look he’s going to have on his face. I haven’t told anyone my thoughts about this because I didn’t want them to think I’m some violent freak but when I look at Elijah all I see on his face is understanding. 

“I understand your hurt. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you and your friend. Is she alright now?’’

I’m weary about telling him Bonnie’s actually alive but something in my gut tells me I can trust him.

“Ya, she’s alright now.”

“What does it feel like, this anger?”

His question has me silent for a moment as I think it over, “It isn’t like anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s like it takes over my whole body and I can’t think straight. It scares me,” I admit the last part quietly.

Elijah looks at me and his eyes show something I can’t put my finger on. He catches me staring and changes his face into one of nonchalnce. 

“What you’re feeling is normal Y/n. You’ve experienced more in the past few months than many will experience in their entire lives.”

I almost groan at the textbook explanation.

We sit there is silence for the next few moments until I see his expression change to one of slight confusion, “You said between your choice words and interactions you had with my brother? What were they?”

I think back to the day of the 60’s dance and frown, “He just stared at me weirdly in the beginning. And I went up to him asking him what was wrong, still thinking he was Ric, and he just gave me the cold shoulder and told me not to bother him. But then later that night at the dance he…kind of helped me. I guess.”

Elijah frowns and his next words come out low, “Helped you how?”

I remember the slight not heart attack I had and decide worrying anyone about that now is a bad idea, “I just choked on my drink a bit and he just made me sit in a seat and gave me some water to help.”

Elijah nods but from the look on his face I don’t think he entirely believes me, “Anything else?’’

I begin to shake my head and then stop, “When I figured out he wasn’t Ric he said something.”

“What did he say?”

“He said something about understanding now why he would like me or something like that. I don’t really know what he mean’t by that. Do you?”

Elijah stares at me and blinks once. Then twice and then once more before he slowly shakes his head. His reaction has me unnerved. And that’s exactly how he looks, unnerved. Almost spooked. And whatever spooks an immortal who can’t be killed is definetly going to make me nervous.

“Elijah? What’s wrong?”

Elijah instantly fixes his posture and leans forward, “You’re to stay away from my brother Y/n, do you understand me? Give me your word.”

At his urgent tone I frown, “Well I mean I’m not going to bring a basket of muffins to his house and welcome him to the neighborhood if that’s what you’re talking about.’’

My joke only seems to agitate him more, “Y/n.”

His voice comes out hard and stern making me instantly nod my head, “Ok, Elijah. I know.”

My agreement seems to ease him a bit. We hear the sound of a car pulling in and I watch as Elena climbs out of her car and walks to us likes she’s a woman on a mission.

“I’m sorry.”

Elijah voice has me turning back towards him and his face is now one of sorrow, “Sorry for what?”

“Back at the dinner party, I hurt you,” He gestures to my right thigh, “It was the last thing I remember doing while being daggered. And even in my comatose state it was all I dreamt about. I told you I would never hurt you and I did exactly that and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

I’m taken aback by his confession and the look in his eyes overwhelms me. 

“It’s ok, Elijah. You didn’t know. Ric and Damon took you by surprise it’s not your fault.”

Elijah opens his mouth to speak again before Elena cuts in, “Tell us. What is Klaus’s curse?”

—-

I sit next to Elena, back on the sofa from before, as Elijah stands before us. After Elena got back Elijah guided us back inside.

  “You know, my family was quite close but Klaus and my father did not get on too well. When we became vampires, we discovered the truth. Klaus was not my father’s son. My mother had been unfaithful many years before. This was her darkest secret. Klaus is from a different bloodline. Of course, when my father discovered this he hunted down and he killed my mother’s lover and his entire family.”

My eyebrows raise at everything he’s telling us. And even though I hate Klaus, as someone with a strained paternal relationship I almost feel bad for him. Almost.

“Not realizing, of course that was igniting a war between species that rages until this day.”

Elena and I share a look, “A war between the species?”

Elijah nods, “The vampires…and the werwolves.”

Wait. If Klaus’ birthfather was a werewolf…holy shit.

“So Klaus’ real father was from a werewolf bloodline? What does that make Klaus? A werewolf or a vampire,” Elena’s question has me sitting up in my seat but a part of me already knows the answer. 

“He’s both.” 

I’m going to puke again. 

“A hybrid would be deadlier than any werwolf or vampire. Nature would not stand for such an imbalance of power. Therefore the witches, the servants of nature saw to it that my brother’s werwolf side would become dormant.”

“That’s the curse that Klaus wants to break?”

“He wants to trigger that part of him that’s a werewolf. If allowed, Klaus would sire his own bloodline. He’d build his own race. Endangering not just vampires…but everyone.”

Elena stands up but I stay seated as I try to process all this new information without puking up my lunch on my shoes. 

“But you helped him,” Elena says to him.

“I helped him because I loved him. That’s changed. Now he must die.”

“We have the dagger now. We can stop him,” Elena be so fucking for real right now. 

“When a werewolf is wounded by silver, it heals. An Original can’t be killed by anything but white oak ash on a silver dagger. So you see the conundrum. The dagger does not work.”

“What are you saying that Klaus can’t be killed?”

“There’s one way to kill any supernatural species. At the hands of the servants of nature themselves.”

“A witch. If they can channel that much power. But it would kill them.”

“The curse must be broken during the full moon. When Klaus is in transition. That’s when he’ll be at his most vulnerable. A witch with enough power…can kill Klaus.”

“What if I told you that I knew a witch that could channel that much power,” At Elena’s last sentence I’m whipping around in my seat. Is she being fucking serious right now?

“Then I would tell you there’s one more thing that you should know,” Elijah then goes on to tell us how he found an elixir that could’ve saved Katherine’s life if she’d not run.

“You found a way to save the life of the doppelganger?”

Elijah looks down at the floor, “Yes, Elena…I did,” He walks past her to come to stand next to where I’m seated, “But unfortunately, Katerina took matters into her own hands first. I believe you already know how that played out.”

“You cared about her didn’t you,” At Elena’s question I look up to Elijah who is already staring down at me.

“It’s a common mistake I’ve been told. It’s one that won’t happen ever again,” Our eyes are locked for the what seems like an eternity before he glances down at my hands and clears his throat. 

“We should be going now,” He says before he reaches his hand down for me to take. I grasp his hand and he gently pulls me up. He drops my hand as soon as I’m up though and walks towards the front door leaving Elena and I standing there in shock. 

“I need a drink.”

Elena shoots me a look, “You don’t drink.”

“Damnit, you’re right.”

—

 “Stop!”

Elijah has moved in front of me to shield me from the two buffons in front of us who are fighting each other. Elena drove the three of us back to the Salvatore mansion and as soon as we open the door we heard Yoda and the demon harassing each other. 

Elena steps down the steps towards them and I go to follow but Elijah puts out his hand to stop me. He shoots me a glance and a shake of his head. Guess I’m staying right here then. 

“Now you’ve invited him in,” Damon gawks at Elena.

“Elijah and I have renewed the terms of our deal.”

“Really,” Damon’s sarcastic voice ticks me off.

“Can’t you just listen for 30 seconds before making an unwanted comment Demon,” I yell over Elijah’s shoulder at the blue-eyed vampire.

“Shut it, pukey. I wasn’t talking to you,” Damon barely has time to finish his sentence before Elijah flashes in front of him and shoves him backwards.

“You will watch you’re tone when speaking to her. Or better yet,” Elijah picks invisible lint off his shoulder, “Don’t speak to her at all. Am I understood?”

Damon growls underneath his breath which has Elijah stepping towards him and Damon holding up his hands, “Fine.”

Elijah walks back up to stand in front of me and next to Elena as if he didn’t just threaten Damon, “The two of you will come to no harm at my hands. I only ask for one thing in return.”

“What?”

“An apology.”

A loud guffaw escapes my lips as I hunch over clenching my stomach.

“A what,” Damon’s tone only has me laughing louder and I feel Elena slightly nudge me to get a grip. I lean against the railing to catch my breath as Stefan steps forward and looks up to Elijah. 

“I’m sorry for the part I’ve played in your death. I was protecting Elena. I will always protect Elena.” 

I let out a small “aw.”

“I understand,” Elijah glances towards me. And then we all turn towards the Demon in the room. 

“Sacrifice is going to happen, Damon. Bonnie will be able to kill Klaus without hurting herself and Elijah knows how to save my life. I told you I’d find another way. And I did.”

Damon glares at Elijah, “Is that true.”

“It is.”

“And you’re trusting him?”

“I am.”

“You can all go to hell,” Damon bites out as he walks away.

“Can’t say I didn’t see that one coming,” I let out. 

Stefan shakes his head, “He’s angry with me right now.”

“Damon’s always angry at you.”

Stefan looks at me for a moment and his upper lip twitches before falling back into his tortured look. 

“But, he’ll come around.”

“Perhaps,” Elijah responds.

We all stand there for a moment before I yawn. 

“You should get some rest,” Elijah says to me. 

“I don’t really want to go home right now. Empty house and all. And since, he who shall not be named, doesn’t have to be invited in…well y’know.”

“You’ll stay here,” Stefan says to me, “For as long as you need.”

“Let’s just hope this is over soon. I don’t want to live under the same roof with that thing,” I point towards the direction Damon went, “For too long.”

[cerastes]

I still think it's really cool how Amuro starts as the shittiest pilot alive (because he's a 15-year old) that only gets carried because he's in the biggest, fattest stat stick in-universe at the time (a few retroactive additions made in the future notwithstanding), enough that even its crappy vulcan guns are tearing Zaku IIs apart, and when he starts getting a bit too cocky, Char and Ramba Ral show up in objectively inferior pieces of junk and absolutely deliver his pizza, they just drag his face across every available surface in Planet Earth like he's a Yakuza mook, all because they are simply that much better at piloting, and the thing is, Amuro takes that very seriously.

He goes from shitass kid in an unfortunate situation that doesn't want to get in the robot to the most unwell child soldier in the war, which is really saying something, but most importantly, becomes so good at piloting the Gundam that the Gundam physically cannot handle Amuro's piloting. They need to apply "Magnetic Coating" to its joints so they don't fucking snap away from the main frame because Amuro, one, moves too damn well but also in too extreme a way for the frame to handle it, two, despite being equipped with two sabers, a shield, a beam rifle and vulcan guns, Amuro is a stern believer in introducing most everyone in thagomizer range to his Rated Z for Zeon hands, the single most official pair of hands in the business, tax free. He KEEP going Ip Man on these dudes, he does NOT need to do a Jamestown on these mother fuckers but he INSISTS. Somehow even the Gundam Hammer, which is a giant Hannah Barbera cartoon flail-- Ok, look at this thing, words do not do it justice

Even this god damn Tom and Jerry prop is less savage that whatever Amuro decides to do the moment he's done throwing his shield to get a free kill on someone and it officially becomes bed time forever for the unfortunate sap at the business end of his ten-finger weapons of mass destruction.

The RX-78-2, "Gundam" for its friends and family, even has a top of the line cutting edge Learning Computer that 'learns' alongside the pilot and their habits. This data extracted from it was so absolutely fucked up that it completely revolutionized Mobile Suit combat afterwards, which is a wholesome thing to think about when The Best Combat Data Ever came from a really angry, really stressed 15 year old that doesn't even like piloting. He was 15! He made Haro with his own hands! Amuro literally just wanted to make funny cute spherical robofriends! Amuro was out there trying to make Kirby real, but fate had other plans for him. His cloned brain put in a pilot seat is one of the setting's strongest 'pilots'.

They made fucking Shadow the Hedgehog with his brain, god damn.

By the end, Zeon is rolling out Gelgoogs out of its mass production lines. These things are in the Gundam's ballpark in terms of overall specs (or "power level"). Amuro is bodying them as if they were episode 1 Zaku IIs.

AND THEN HE GETS FUCKING PSYCHIC SPACE POWERS. Not that he needed them, he bodied a couple Space Psychics without any of those powers before awakening to them. But heaven's most violent child was not done evolving, whether he liked it or not.

Char bodied him in a souped up Zaku II at the start, a machine objectively inferior to the Gundam. Amuro more or less one-sidedly beats the shit out of Char when he's in a custom Commander-type Gelgoog that you could consider to be equal spec-wise to the Gundam. Amuro is the embodiment of Finding Out. He is Consequences. You tell him he better make it hurt, better make it count, better kill you in one shot, buddy, he needs half a fucking shot. The complete transformation. One could consider the central 75% of the show as long drawn out training montage turning a kid into the Geese Howard of giant robots.

[fartistt]

MAKE YOU MINE!

would you take someone else's hand if you had the chance?

fem reader

warning(s): fanon personality, fanon name, i'm writing this fic literally hours after the video dropped we deadass know nothing about this guy -🍝

if you enjoyed reading this fic, please consider donating to providing aid in palestine!

skelly, as much as he hates to admit it, has to come face-to-face with the fact that his little pumpkin patch has developed a bit of a trespasser issue. normally he wouldn’t mind—after all, what kind of pumpkin king would he be if he weren’t to share the spoils and wonders of his humble kingdom with the rest of his people—if it weren’t for the fact that whoever kept romping about his lovely abode wasn’t like the other pumpkin patch visitors.

see, skelly considers himself to be a gracious host. he is the pumpkin king, and the duty of any good ruler is to ensure that everyone within the gates, or in his case: sprawling fence, of his kingdom is enveloped in joy thanks to his wise governing. be they the resident mice or a lost passerby, his responsibility is to make sure they all leave with a wide grin. macabre perhaps, but his best dealings are in sparking happiness through the morbid. 

but you.

each time you come to his pumpkin patch, you come ready to burst into tears. your eyes are watery and glossy, vision undoubtedly blurry as you stumble over the pumpkins through the pitch black dark of the night. the first few times you’d come to the safe haven of his pumpkin kingdom to sniffle your eyes out, he ignored it. he figured you came here after something sad to cheer yourself up and would want space more than the consolation of a pale, creepy lonesome man, but once it becomes a semi-routinely occurrence, he makes the sage decision that now your issues have fallen under his jurisdiction.

isn’t he such a benevolent ruler? he knows it’s wrong to find excitement in someone’s despair, but he can hardly remember the last time he’s had a proper, breathing human visitor. it’s like fate, like destiny itself has drawn you from whatever it is causing you this much sadness and into the soothing comfort of his soon-to-be embraces.

“don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, sweet darling. i’ll be right there,” he hums to no one in particular when the quiet sounds of your clumsy footsteps alert him to your reentrance into his pumpkin patch. he thinks that he looks rather dapper, dressed to the nines in his finest tattered suit and pulling on a matching pair of gloves decorated with bone motifs. “your dearest king is but your humble servant. soon enough, i shall turn that melancholy of yours into unabated joy for none other than me. a far better outcome than whatever is ailing you, don’t you agree?”

there’s no one to respond to him, but he still stretches his dry lips into a satisfied smile. the final touch is his trusty pair of dark sunglasses. a good king never shows his true emotions even during the simplest of diplomatic journeys. that, and he doesn’t want to scare you with his bright orange eyes from the get-go.

it doesn’t take him long to find you. you’re planted in the heart of the pumpkin patch, ensconced and hidden away in the comfort of the long shadows of the night, hunched over and wiping futilely at your eyes while big fat tears drip over your waterline. the sight of you crying makes skelly’s heart wrench inside of his chest. what in the world could possibly make such a sweet creature like you cry like this?

he clears his throat. he’s a gentleman, and he doesn’t want to scare away his lone guest. “my dear… what’s troubling you?”

his voice is soft and careful, but it still makes you gasp and jerk away reflexively. he doesn’t blame you: the last thing you’re expecting during your nightly trips to what you probably assumed was an abandoned pumpkin patch would be a tall, lanky man hovering over you while you cried. he stays in his place and holds his hands up in mock surrender as if to signal to you that he has no foul intentions.

you wipe at your eyes and peer up at him through your clumped lashes, the serene moonlight bouncing off of your wet cheeks. your voice wavers and cracks, “who… who are you?”

“oh! i’m so sorry,” he gasps, placing a hand over his heart. “where are my manners? you may call me skelly. i’m the ruler of this quaint pumpkin patch, so to say. some even call me the pumpkin king. a bit pompous, if i do say so myself. i’d say that maybe you’ve heard of me, but given how surprised you are… i’d wager that you haven’t.”

he flashes you an innocent smile. you know the smart thing would be to run and never look back, but when he squats down so that he’s eye level with you, some part of you can’t bring yourself to muster the strength to flee. you’re already this miserable, what’s the use in trying to wade off an inevitable end?

“so what brings you here? this isn’t the first time i’ve heard you sobbing your heart out. it makes me rather upset to see you this distraught. i’ll lend you an ear, so tell me your troubles.” you can make out the slight glint of his eyes past the dark lenses of his glasses. “maybe i can help you out.”

you bite the inside of your cheeks. your mind is frankly too frazzled to think things through too thoroughly, but you still know better than to spill your deepest darkest secrets to some stranger that crept up on you in the dead of the night in the middle of nowhere. but at the same time, you’re only here because you’re at your wit’s end with nobody to turn to, and a chance encounter like this with a seemingly benevolent being might be your last straw to grasp at desperately.

you suck in a nervous breath. “it’s… it’s silly, really. nothing that the- uh- pumpkin king needs to concern himself over. i’m being dramatic.”

his dry lips twist into a frown as he peers at you. “i doubt it’s anything silly if it’s enough to make you cry like this. you can tell me everything. i promise it. take a chance on me, why don’t you?”

you gaze up at him. his white skin, the strands of his snow white hair, the outline of his body, the silhouette of dark suit and all of the pale ribbons cascading from his chest all seem to glow under the illumination of the night. every part of his man, from his painted smiles to his practiced words, are too good to be true. it makes him look almost deceptively angelic, poised perfectly so that you have no choice but to hand over yourself to him. you should know better than to gamble on something that’s not guaranteed, but you’ve chosen security before only to be stabbed in the back mercilessly.

you swallow back whatever fear bubbles up from the depths of your heart. 

“um… i go to a school nearby. night raven college. it’s an all boys school. maybe you’ve heard of it,” the words tumble from your lips clumsily. your heart thunders inside of your chest. “i’m from… somewhere really far away. i can guarantee you haven’t heard of it. no one ever has. the headmaster promised me that he’d help me go home in time, but it’s been so long without any progress. i’m starting to think i’ll never go home.”

you sniffle and hang your head, wanting to bury your face back in your arms. you mumble under your breath, “and… i don’t want to speak badly of anyone… but i’m sick of the students at the school too. they’re all mean and selfish, and i’m just tired. i’m tired, skelly.”

something in his unmoving dead heart stirs slightly when you sigh out his name. he reaches over and places a soothing hand on your shoulder, and a shudder creeps down your spine when you feel just how cold his body is even through the layers of his gloves. it’s like ice against your skin, the grips of frost tracing your body.

“homesickness, is it? i don’t think your sadness is silly at all. it must have hurt you so badly to have to endure everything in such an unwelcoming place. poor thing,” he coos. “no wonder you come here so often. you must have suffered so much if you preferred being alone like this over spending another night in that awful school… if only i knew sooner! i would have done so much  more to make you feel welcome.”

you shake your head. “it’s not your fault. i was the one who was too trusting from the beginning. i… i should have never taken the headmaster’s hand through the mirror.”

you feel pitiful under his gaze, but at the same time, you can’t help but feel a knot deep inside of you loosen slightly at his honeyed words. it’s childish, to want to be pitied and cared for, but simultaneously, this was the bare minimum of everything you wanted. all you had asked was for a place to make your own while you waited for a way to return home, and even that much was too much to ask for from the incompetent schoolmaster and his equally intolerable students.

skelly smoothes down the fabric of your clothes on your shoulder, each stroke of his long fingers like the unforgiving touch of winter. it’s like he’s trying to comfort you, but you fight off the urge to shiver under his hand. 

“say…,” he starts after a pause of silence, “i know a pumpkin patch is a far cry from the amenities of a school, but if you don’t want to go back… you don’t have to. i know it’s sudden, and you surely don’t have to give me an answer right away if you don’t want to. but what if you were to stay here with me?”

you freeze. you blink slowly, twisting your head so that you’re looking at skelly again. he offers you a placid grin, shrugging his shoulders slightly. 

“stay here…?” you mumble. “with you?”

“precisely, my dear. i’ve been growing quite lonely all by myself too. i think we have a perfect deal! a pumpkin queen to a pumpkin king,” his words take on a more lively note. your stomach churns, and skelly claps his hands together. “i would never mistreat you the way those silly boys do. i’m a gentleman, first and foremost. i’ll make you feel at home right away. you won’t even have the time to miss that school and all of the misery it's put you through.”

temptation. you wish you were smarter. more resilient. more grounded to know better than to be swayed by the offer of a total stranger. but you’re at your rope’s end, and anything sounds better than the gilded cage that night raven college has become to you. would it be so bad to take a chance elsewhere? to follow a man who solemnly swears that you can put all of your suffering behind you if you only have the faith to look towards him without any regrets or doubts?

as if he can read your mind, skelly stands up and turns back towards you. he crouches down slightly, dipping forward into a subtle bow, and he holds out a gloved hand towards you.

this scene is all too familiar to you. it harkens you back to the first night you landed in this universe, everything warped and unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. the all knowing moon, the darkness threatening to swallow you whole, a dark robed stranger with promises of salvation dripping from their lips, and a chance to take back some semblance of control of your life that’s jumped from your reach. instead of a mirror, your reflection stares back at you with a lifelessness from the wide glass lenses hiding skelly’s eyes. 

it’s like you never learn, and a sense of foreboding washes over you as the pumpkin king’s disarming smile widens.

a hand extended to you. a hand taken.

this time around, you hope you’ve chosen correctly.

x

if you enjoyed reading this fic, please consider donating to providing aid in palestine!

[lifeonmarz-blog]

Intro to AstroCartography

a method of locational astrology, by which specific geographic locations are associated with expected differences in personal life circumstances.

(Astro-car-tography) is one of my favorite branches of astrology. Different places affect people differently. Rather it be a different city, state or country. Astrocartography shows places that are the best fit for you around the world that suite different focuses in your life. Career, Love, Friendship, Structure, More recognition, Healing past wounds, Finding your path, More spontaneous experiences, A faster pace life, A slower pace life, whatever your looking to experience more of. There's a place that would make it the easiest.

There are 4 different 'types' of lines

-ASC; how your personality expresses itself to others, what others see when they look at you

-DC; experiences you'll have in personal one on one relationships

-IC; how your home and personal life will be affected

-MC; how you assert yourself into the world especially career wise, this is your public image

What energy the planets represent

-Sun; Center of attention, Developing sense of self

-Moon; Emotions, Triggers, Family

-Mercury; Communication, Friendship

-Venus; Romance, Friendship, Luxury

-Mars; Activity, Accidents, Forcefulness, Ambition

-Saturn; Structure, Patience, Stability, Building

-Jupiter; Luck, General abundance, Education/Learning

-Uranus; Spontaneous experiences, New things, Quick actions

-Pluto; Uncovering truths, Restructuring, Learning

Honorary mentions

-Chiron; Wounds, Triggers

-Northnode; Life purpose

Examples

-Mercury on the dc you would meet alot of people that show interest in having conversations with you. This is an easy place to network and make friends with like minded people.

-I grew up on a mars asc line and ive had to fight for what i want and believe in a lot. It felt like having to always prove my worth. I was in 6 car accidents (only 2 were major). My body was always a topic of conversation. I had insecurities around weight. I started a business on this line. I was known for being an entrepreneur. I think for men it would be smoother depending on aspects in the natal chart ofc but for women we operate more in our masculine energy on a mars line. Going to make things happen instead of opportunities coming to us. That starts to feel draining.

-You could find a long term relationship and have improved finances on a venus line.

-My Sun mc and northnode mc lines go through Paris, France. I think i would experience community and uncover a new level of confidence.

Have you heard of relocation astrology?

[houserautha]

Pain & Pleasure

Summary: Based off this ask. Your husband only wants to protect you.

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: MDNI. Most of my warnings fall under the prompts given for Fangtober. Also, spanking. In the wise words of Cloud Guy, “A little slappy, make daddy happy.”

A/N: This is my submission for @lady-phasma’s Fangtober!! I kept writing and rewriting until I saw this ask and then was inspired. Prompts: blood, ejaculation, bondage, dominance, S&M, some humiliation and discipline, and tears.

The spice-laden wine goes straight to your head, blurring the harsh edges of the Harkonnen party. It's certainly more tolerable this way. You float through the throng of courtiers as if pulled along by a slow moving current, smiling and offering platitudes when necessary.

Distantly, you're aware of Feyd's eyes on you.

They never really leave — a constant, watchful presence that burns between the blades of your shoulders. He likes to keep you within view, preside over every interaction and conversation. And when you complain about this, he always tells you, "You are my jewel. You do not leave precious treasure unguarded."

Precious treasure, you muse, sipping the dredges of your drink.

If you tried hard enough you would surely find Feyd in the crowd, dark gaze trained on you. He would be charming the courtiers all while keeping you in his sights, somehow straddling the line between host and careful guard. You, on the other hand, struggle with the act of entertaining your guests. Not from lack of trying.

And thus, when one of the courtiers presses his hand to your lower back as he passes by, you don't threaten to cut it off. Hopefully the smile on your face doesn't resemble a grimace. The courtier, a man dressed in a trim suit, removes his hand but does not leave.

"na-Baroness," he says, feigning surprise. He's a terrible actor. "I didn't realize it was you. My humble apologies."

"You're forgiven."

Why do all of your smiles feel as if you're baring your teeth?

"May I get you another drink?" The man asks.

Before letting you answer, he waves down one of the servants and thrusts another glass into your hand. His fingers graze yours in the process, in such a fashion that cannot be mistaken as an accident. There's no spark of attraction, no pinch of arousal in your lower belly that a touch from your husband would usually incite, but you let this go too. Not only because you need to develop repertoire with the courtiers, because usually people are too frightened to speak to you.

This man might be a brash idiot but at least he doesn’t shy away from you.

"You look magnificent," the man says, his mouth close to your ear. The music isn't really that loud, and you recognize this as a ploy to get closer to you. "The na-Baron is a fortunate man indeed."

You swirl the spice-wine coyly. "That's what I tell him."

“You shouldn’t need to remind him.”

“Mm. Why’s that?”

"He should know to take care of such a beautiful woman, lest someone start to covet her." He adds boldly, "There are more things a man can offer you than prestige and wealth."

"And what would that be?" You peer up at him from beneath your lashes.

Feyd has given you quite literally anything you could ask for — a home, a protector, an equal. And more orgasms than you can count, which you understand is what this man before you is implying the na-Baron cannot provide.

The man steps closer to you. "I would be more than willing to show you, na-Baroness, if you would let me."

“You are very bold," you counter.

“Among other things.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

"Don't be." He flashes you a winning smile that does absolutely nothing to you. You might as well have been speaking to a rotting corpse. "You can ask me anything and I will answer as truthfully as I can."

You study him, considering, tapping your nails on the stem of your glass. "Do you truly think I will stray from my husband for you?"

"Yes," he says. "Next."

"Do you truly think you can best him in pursuit of my...pleasures?"

"If you come with me, you might answer that question yourself," the man says in way of reply, hand lingering over your elbow.

"Go with you where?"

Feyd appears nonchalantly at your side. A part of you sighs in relief, as it always does when you're together. But there's an underlying current of danger in his voice, double-edged and pointed at both you and this courtier, who apparently does not sense it or does not care.

"I was going to let her choose," the man answers coolly.

Feyd's jaw feathers. "How quaint."

"Excuse me?" The man's brow furrows and you almost feel bad for him, this stupid, arrogant courtier.

"My wife goes where I tell her. She quite likes a...strong hand." Feyd curls a possessive hand at your waist and, without breaking eye contact with the man, orders, "Go to our room and kneel on the bed, naked, and wait for me to join you."

Desire pulses deep within you. You shoot the man an apologetic, slightly triumphant look, knowing that his demise is eminent, and disappear into the crowd. Anticipation carries you all of the way to your shared quarters with the na-Baron, where you undress and then arrange yourself at the foot of the bed. An inordinate amount of time passes before the door finally opens and your husband steps through it, a phantom in the shadows.

Feyd prowls toward you. Only once he's in reach of the light do you realize that his hands, the front of his tunic, are drenched in blood.

You breathe out, "You killed him."

Not that you're shocked, necessarily; it's the quantity of blood that disturbs you, painting him in a study of crimson. Goosebumps pimple over your skin.

Feyd does not deign you with a response.

When he comes to you, you flinch away reflexively from his blooded hands. A growl rips from his chest and you don't even have time to regret your decision when he's grabbing you by the jaw and squeezing. "You did this to him."

"I didn't make him do anything," you hiss. Feyd's grip tightens. The pressure becomes nearly too much for you to handle, fingers digging into your flesh, pouting your lips.

"You didn't stop him either, did you?" Feyd looms dangerously close to you, fury radiating off him. The brunt of his anger comes when he releases you, roughly shoving you away.

You're then aware, vaguely, that the man's blood is now smeared on your face in the shape of your husband's hand, inviting a coppery smell that invades your senses and churns your stomach. The weight of Feyd dips the mattress as he sits down then pats his thigh. "Lie down on my lap."

You hesitate. Another stupid, reckless decision.

Feyd grabs the hair at the base of your skull. A squeal escapes you as he forces you down over his knees, exposing you entirely to him. Liquid embarrassment floods over you and a protest begins to form on your tongue — you are the na-Baroness, after all, not a child to be ridiculed.

Like he can hear this particular train of thought, Feyd snatches your wrists with one hand and secures them behind your back. When he leans in, discomfort sprouts from the awkward position, your back bowing to keep your arms from snapping. "If you're going to act like a whore, then I'm going to treat you as one. Do you understand?"

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, who?”

Your face burns. “Yes, na-Baron.”

“Good girl.”

You’re perched over his lap now, ass up, cunt exposed to the coolness of the room. It’s shameful how wet you already are. There’s a moment of jostling as Feyd removes his belt and snakes it over your wrists to keep you bound.

Now that both of his hands are free, Feyd drags his fingers through your slick folds. He continues up, up, up, circling your wetness over the tight ring of muscles of your ass. Your breath hitches as he then palms one cheek and gives it an experimental squeeze.

A dull roar consumes your mind. The inevitability of his punishment ratchets —

White-hot pain explodes over the surface of your ass. You gasp but there’s barely any time to recover before he’s striking you again, open-palmed, the contact of skin on skin ringing out. A sob builds in your throat. No matter how you tense or prepare, his hand collides with your backside in a sear of blinding heat.

And, worst of all, your traitorous cunt clenches with anticipation.

Feyd ceases long enough to snarl in your ear, “I know what men think when they look at you. Look at my wife.”

His palm cracks against you. You try to jerk away but he keeps you in place. Beneath you, his hardening cock nudges against your belly.

“I know —” smack, “—what—” smack, “—men—” smack, “are capable of.”

Tears spring to your eyes. The memory of his hand prickles as you attempt to collect yourself, only to yowl out as he spanks you again. The repeated action robs you of any thought or rationality, any plea that you might be able to summon. And he seems to be enjoying it as much as you are, bucking his hips as you thrash and squirm. Everything burns.

Pain lances through you, fiery and sharp. You feel your backside blistering from his touch, feel the welts raise. And you’re completely helpless to stop this. The leather of his belt bites into your wrists, scrapes against you as you writhe, trying to escape his hand while also dripping wet at the promise of being dealt another strike.

“It’s for your own good, you know,” Feyd murmurs almost lovingly, large hand brushing over your ass. The reprieve has you sputtering and gasping for air, aware that your front — and likely your backside — is covered with sticky, dried blood. Feyd strokes your hair as you whimper. “I just want to protect you, jewel.”

The sentiment is punctuated by another bone-rattling smack. You howl out and in reply he snaps his hips up, grinding into you.

“And that’s why I have to punish you.” He cracks his hand down again. There’s a tremor of emotion in his voice. “So I can protect you.”

Feyd spanks you again and again until you’re freely sobbing. He’s managed to unravel you completely, cast you adrift in a sea of pleasure and pain. You barely know who you are anymore, wave after wave of burning heat making you somehow both deliriously empty and wanting.

“You are mine, jewel,” he rasps finally.

“I-I am yours, na-Baron.”

He murmurs his approval, setting to work removing his pants. “Now get up and take this cock.”

You wince. “Feyd, I —”

“You can and you will.”

He wrenches you up by your hair again, tossing you to the side as he rises to his feet. You fall awkwardly to your side and Feyd takes advantage of your stumble, whipping you around so that your front is now pressed to the mattress. Another bought of embarrassment grips you as you realize how easily it will be for him to see your arousal — how ruined you must look, skin flaring with welts and bruises and blood.

Feyd keeps your head pushed against the mattress as he forces his cock inside you. He buries himself deeply without giving you time to adjust, and with your arms bound behind your back you can do nothing but squirm.

Saliva gathers in the corners of your mouth. You struggle to breathe against the mattress, breathe through the combined waves of pain and pleasure. Each snap of his hips sends a jolt through you as he comes in contact with your ass, reigniting the burn. He ruts into you as if he knows this and your whole body jostles with his thrusts, growing more fervent as you choke out sob after sob, muffled into the bed.

“Maybe next time you’ll remember to be a good wife,” Feyd all but seethes.

He claws his hands over your hips and ass, fingers digging into the reddened flesh. Blood and your own juices mingle, filling the air with wet noises — sending you over the edge with the reminder of you and the courtier’s punishments.

The mattress muffles your scream as you come, a loud, cathartic release. Feyd bucks into you until you’ve finished, and even then, wringing out every drop of your pleasure until he reaches the peak of his own. He pulls out at the last second, deriving you of his cum, and you howl. Warm splashes of his seed spill on your ass, agitating the already raw skin, and your cunt clenches in displeasure of not being filled.

Feyd lingers in you until his cock softens and slips out. You’re sniveling and crying still as he disappears from behind you — you’re half afraid he’s going to come back and continue his punishment.

But when he returns, it’s to gently wipe away the mess of blood and cum with a towel, taking precaution not to hurt you more than he already did. His hands replace the towel next, massaging a soothing balm over each cheek. You’re still sniffing by the time he unties the belt from your wrists and pulls you further up onto the bed, cradling you against himself.

“Shh, now, jewel,” he breathes into your hair. “I will always keep you safe.”

[senselessviolets]

being roman roy’s personal assistant (and his obsession) would include…

Rating M

WARNINGS:

Language, sexual tension, degradation, power imbalance, Roman being Roman weird.

Author's Notes:

Pretty self-explanatory. No uses of Y/N. Some brief RomanGerri. Very much inspired by @nanabrainrot's fic series with Pervert!Roman because it's divineeee. Highly recommend it!!

Roman never saw himself as the type to have an assistant. In fact, he was the only one of the Roy siblings to not have one. Kendall, of course, had Jess, Shiv had Sarah, and even though Connor never liked to bring it up out of fear of making him seem less earnest and hardworking to his supporters, he too had a “yes man” managing his personal affairs for him. 

It was following the Hungary company retreat that Gerri offered to set Roman up with an assistant. She knew of a trusted agency that would be able to help him narrow down candidates and find a person best suited for his needs. 

That person just so happened to be you. 

Roman absolutely wolf-whistled at the picture attached to your portfolio when thumbing through the candidates he was matched with through the agency. Gerri made him promise not to make any untoward or inappropriate comments to you during your interview for the job. Roman saw it as a ‘woman thing’ but Gerri being legal counsel saw it as a nightmare waiting to happen.

Upon meeting with you and the hiring manager, Roman scoured the internet for any information on you. Even though all of the important need-to-know info could be found on your resume or your fucking LinkedIn profile—that wasn’t enough for him. 

He tore through all of your public social media accounts, saving any particularly flattering images of you (swimsuit pictures, nightclub outings, etc.) and examining them throughout the day.

Suffice it to say, you got the job.

At first, Roman doesn’t know what to make of you. He sits you at a small desk on the opposite side of his own in his office.

Personality and demeanor-wise you’re in line with what he had wanted. Physically, he was already well-acquainted with your curves and the way certain types of clothes clung to your body. 

In the long stretches of silence of you two working in the same room, he imagined briefly what you looked like underneath your clothes. 

At home when it was just him and his right hand, he imagined what it’d be like to tear them off and leave them in tatters on the floor.

The better you get to know each other, the bigger his private album devoted to images of you grows.

Roman starts to pry into your personal life, asking if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend. Then he makes random passes at you throughout the day. Having worked with a wide array of smarmy, gross men in the past—you were hardly phased. Because a part of you sees through the facade. You know he just wants to rile you up—to get a reaction out of you.

You realize after a while that he wants you to be repulsed by him. 

This incites something within you.

Roman starts dragging you to one-on-ones with investors and having you sit in on board meetings, much to the annoyance of many.

Shiv tells you (jokingly) to run before you wind up being chased down the hallways with a chainsaw. 

While waiting together outside of a rather important meeting with many high-level executives, Greg informs you of a rumor that Roman has a dick pic circulating the office. But that in particular—he had meant to send it to you. 

You don’t know how to feel.  

These forced attendances at random meetings turn into becoming his designated armpiece for public events and parties. 

At one of them, Stewy taunts Roman, saying you’re not the only woman he pays to touch him. 

You laugh loudly at this joke which surprises them both. You crack a few of your own at Roman’s expense. Some are based on fiction, the others in fact. The shame floods his cheeks but the way he grips tighter at your waist tells you to keep going. To get meaner. So you do. You get a lot meaner.

Roman’s jaw clenches for a moment. Then his lips part. You convince yourself it's just a buzz from the drinks you’ve just had; that you did not just shit-talk your boss into arousal. 

But the clumsy way Roman adjusts his stance, the subtle outline of something forming at the front of his pants, and how he excuses himself to the bathroom says otherwise.

The text you receive moments later from his number confirms this; “You know what you did, you fucking bitch.”.

It’s your direct reply to that message though that makes his breath hitch; 

“Show me then, you sick fuck.”

{ Feedback is welcome! }

Follow me on twt: @endlessviolets

<3

[reallyromealone]

Inspired by this post that @writingsbymo-mo

Sleepovers with uncle ran

Ran x toddler nephew reader

Fluff

(Name) was excited as he ran into his uncle's arms "unkol Ran!" He squealed as the elder Haitani lifted the little duckling up "my, you only saw me a few days ago" he teased as Rindō held his sons overnight bag with his clothes and stuffed toy along with any medications that may be needed "you behave for your uncle alright?" He knew (name) would be and smiled when the little one nodded seriously "I will papa!"

Sleepovers with uncle ran were the best, the little boy was practically vibrating when his papa told him he would be staying at the others for the night.

"(Snack)!" He squealed as he ran towards the coffee table, his uncle having the good set up and having toddler portions as to not overwhelm the kid who slipped on his little house slippers and the two plopped on the couch "so what do you wanna do first, lil man?" The littlest Haitani thought for a moment, really thinking about it before looking up at his uncle with determination "I wanna fight!" The tot said and Ran looked pleasantly surprised "you really are a Haitani!" He said excitedly before getting up and rushing to his room.

When he came out, he was holding a police baton and (name)s little track suit from when (name) wanted to join rans fitness routine "let's fight" Ran said with an almost manic glee and (name) looked back with determination.

"No no little one, you have to go for the jugular" ran showed as he hit the fitness dummy in the throat "don't forget kneecaps alright? Your enemy won't fight fair so why should you?"

(Name) nodded as he let out an angry yell and began beating the dummy with the baton as Ran recorded it, pride filling his being "Atta boy!"

"Now, let's order food and get cleaned up" the two had been practicing for two hours at this point and (name) looked a little winded as he let his uncle lift him up.

A bubble bath with toys and a set of comfy pajamas and (name) was ready for dinner and a movie, sitting before the coffee table as he ate dinner with his uncle-- (name) getting to choose the take out tonight.

"She inked!" (Name) laughed as he took another bite of his food, absolutely entranced and ran smiled at him, happy his nephew was having such a good time.

"Your dad forgot your bedtime story, so uncle ran is gonna tell you some stories" Ran said as he tucked the tot into the guest bed that was basically just (name)s room, the boy having toys and such in said room "what kind of stories?" (Name) asked hugging his stuffed toy and Ran smiled "I'm gonna tell you stories about your papa as a teen"

"PAPA!" (Name) yelled happily as his dad came to collect his kid, the little one having a more western breakfast as a treat "you have fun brat?" Rindō asked as he stole some strawberries off the kids plate "yeah! Unkol ran gave me this!" (Name) held up Rans old police baton and Rindō snorted amused "use it wisely kid"

"And he told me about how you ripped your pants doing the splits!"

"What."

[silverskye13]

Angst prompt courtesy of: @theunderscorwolph

[Part 1 of 2]

[Part 2 Found Here]

Helsknight waited... Probably too long to check in on Tanguish. In his defense, the last time he spoke to Tanguish, he was heading to Hermitcraft, and while Hermitcraft was far from safe, it was, in its own ways, safer than hels. There were fewer people, fewer hazards in general, and there was Tango. Tango wasn't a fighter. As far as Helsknight could tell, he was mostly just squirrelly, and a bit cowardly. But he was fiercely loyal. That went a long way. He had even, misguidedly, attempted to save Tanguish from Helsknight once. Helsknight, who recognized he was a big, scary, angry-looking, armed and armored knight, could respect that. And Tango and Tanguish were friends, and they got wrapped up in each other sometimes, and this was far from the first time Tanguish was gone all day talking to his other half about some project.

It was, however, the first time he'd been gone for two days in a row.

Helsknight didn't really consider himself to be a worrier. Tanguish was an adult. He could take care of himself. And even if he couldn't take care of himself, Helsknight could recognize that everyone had some level of pride. Butting in on someone else's business uninvited was a great way to be a nuisance at best, and a problem at worst. So, Tanguish didn't come back by the evening? If there was a problem, Helsknight would respectfully let him handle it. Tanguish knew to come get him for help. And while Helsknight would feel truly guilty if his dithering caused Tanguish to respawn, he could take some solace in knowing he would wreak holy vengeance on whoever did it.

[That was one of the perks of being a knight: when you pointed at someone and said something along the lines of "Through hels or high water I will smite thee" or some such dramatic nonsense, people tended to get out of your way and let you get to business.]

Day two of no Tanguish, and Helsknight went from being passively concerned, to something closer to open nervousness. He asked, as subtly as he could, around the Colosseum if anyone had seen him. No one had, though Martyn did make a joke about Tanguish finally getting wise and finding a real knight to squire to.

[EB really needed to stop getting between them when Martyn said things like that. The power of a bloody nose on shitty humor was astounding.]

Eventually, Helsknight had given up and decided the best thing to do was go to Hermitcraft and track the little pest down himself. He suited up for what he thought might be a mild amount of trouble -- it was always possible he would run into Wels when he was on Hermitcraft, and if he planned on searching for someone, he wanted to minimize the time he was fighting his double. He donned his chainmail, and the netherite gauntlets and grieves. He made sure the clasps on his boots were pulled tight. He cinched on his netherite sword, and made sure it pulled easily from the sheath.

He picked up his cloak last, and gave it a contemplative frown. In hels, the cloak was a distinctive and somewhat necessary piece of costuming. It was the visual shorthand he needed to inform everyone that he was a knight, and therefore probably knew his way around a sword [and wasn't worth mugging]. For those who knew knights, it told them what Order he was a part of. Useful. On Hermitcraft, however... Being able to tell at a glance that he was a red-themed knight in dark armor, who looked suspiciously like but not quite enough like one of the other server members...

While Helsknight weighed the pros and cons of stealth and subtly, two things he was famously very bad at, the shield hanging on his wall shuddered and kicked, and someone tumbled out of the reflection with a shriek. Helsknight sighed and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling. He did a slow count to ten in his head, and tried not to be very, very annoyed he'd just spent twenty minutes putting on armor for no good gods-damned reason.

"Tanguish," Helsknight hummed, when he thought he could keep his voice relatively neutral, "for no reason in particular, I think we should make some ground rules about when you should check in with people--"

Helsknight turned, looked down, and anything else he was going to say vanished out of his head with such abruptness, it made his ears ring. Laying prone on the floor of Helsknight's cell, staring with wide, somewhat terrified eyes and the kind of grin that screamed about recently realized mistakes, was Tango. The Hermit blinked up at him. Helsknight blinked down at him. Somewhere down the hall, somebody laughed at something, which was their only indication that the whole world hadn't frozen with them when they made eye contact.

Helsknight could say, with honesty, he never expected to be put in a situation where a Hermit stumbled into hels, much less into his cell in the Colosseum, surrounded by all the biggest, scariest, most dangerous people in hels. At a complete loss on what to do, he fell back on what he thought was safest: namely, making sure no one got killed over it. Helsknight leaped over Tango -- who screeched ingloriously -- crossed to the door of his cell and slammed it shut. There was no lock -- he'd never needed one until now -- so he settled on turning his back to the door and bracing against it, content in the knowledge that, should someone come inside, he would be the first one to know.

It did not hearten him to see that Tango was still on his floor. He had apparently, when Helsknight stepped over him, curled up as small as he could, anticipating some kind of attack. He'd thrown his arms up over his face, and now peered at Helsknight through his fingers, humming tuneless, horrified syllables.

"Tangotek," Helsknight said, concentrating on keeping his voice very calm and very quiet, "you aren't welcome in my home."

"I didn't know I was going to end up here," Tango whispered back, his voice high and tense as a violin string.

"Go home."

Something flickered in Tango's eyes, something like determination. Helsknight hated that look.

"Uhm. N-no can do. Sorry."

"Can't." Helsknight said, barring his teeth at the Hermit. "Or won't."

Tango made a face at him, tight-lipped and tense. He propped himself up on his elbows. "Uhm. If. If I say won't, will you kill me?"

"Possibly."

"Then I can't. Definitely, definitely, physically can't." Tango looked around, scrambled to his feet, and dashed to Helsknight's bed. He, admirably, only winced a little when he set his spawn -- probably worried hels worked like the nether, and the bed would manage to explode somehow. With a bit more confidence this time, Tango stated again: "Can't."

"I can break that." Helsknight seethed quietly, and tried very hard not to grind his teeth. "It would piss me off. I like being able to sleep here. But I can break that, and send you back to Hermitcraft."

"But you don't want to do that," Tango said nervously. "Because-- uh-- you'd have to kill me, and Tanguish would be really, really upset about that."

"Tanguish isn't here. So either run home, or I will... escort you there." Helsknight put on his most wicked grin, and placed his hand on his sword meaningfully.

Tango staggered a step back away from Helsknight, somehow managing to go paler than he already was. The redstone freckles adorning his face sparked, and the flame of his hair took on a slightly green cast. The idiot Hermit was apparently made of very stern stuff, though, because he didn't flee for the nearest reflection. He took a few seconds to breathe. He had his own sword, a fact that Helsknight only noticed because his hand twitched towards the hilt uncertainly. Helsknight wasn't alarmed. Tango didn't move like someone who knew how to use a sword well, and he was fairly sure the Hermit's hands were shaking so much he would drop it if he tried to draw it.

Tango swallowed hard, darted a tongue across his lips, and asked with only a minimal tremor in his voice, "Uh, T-Tanguish isn't here? Like, not here here, or like... Not in hels, here?"

Helsknight narrowed his eyes. "Is he supposed to be?"

"He left my place yesterday, and said he would be back in a few hours," Tango explained quickly. "I thought-- like, you know, maybe he decided to wait until morning? But. He didn't come back. And I got worried. He. You know. He tells me if he can't make it. It's-- all it takes is a reflection to talk. You know? And I did look in my reflection, but I couldn't see anything, which normally means he's not by one. It was just dark."

Tango crossed his arms. It was a gesture that somehow made him look smaller.

"I thought-- I hoped-- you know. Hopping through the reflection. I could just check on him. Make sure he was okay. I think. I think maybe it just took me to his spawn point."

Tango thought that statement over, then flashed Helsknight an incredulous, almost horrified look, "Why is his spawn point your bed?"

"Tanguish was supposed to be with you," Helsknight frowned.

"You haven't seen him?"

"No." Helsknight rested his hand on his sword hilt, mostly just so he wouldn't fidget. "Could he have gone back to Hermitcraft and you just missed each other?"

"I checked," Tango said, shaking his head. "I have... X gave a few of us console access. I did a few scans... Is there. Anyone you know with that kind of access for hels?"

"Hels and Hermitcraft are different places." Helsknight wrinkled his nose. "Maybe Evil X?"

"Cool! We'll talk to him then!"

"Oh sure," Helsknight spat derisively, "I'll just go knock on the front door to Evil X's tower and ask politely for admin access, will I?"

Tango grimaced. "Will he not... Like that kind of thing?"

"Oh he'd just love it. One more thing to hold over my head." Helsknight snorted. "It wouldn't work anyway. I have a pact that says I can't directly oppose him. If he, for the gods know what reason, has Tanguish, and I knew--" Helsknight made a parrying motion with his hand. "It's better if I don't know. Keeps my hands from being tied."

"Huh," Tango leaned back against the wall, slightly more at ease. Helsknight wasn't sure if he liked the fact that the Hermit was getting comfortable. "I kind of figured you and X-- uh, Evil X, would be friends."

"Why in hels would we be friends?"

"Well, I'm friends with Wels. And. You know. X. I just kind of figured..."

Helsknight decided the best thing to do with this statement was ignore it.

"I will check the house," Helsknight said. "You go back to your server. When I find him, I'll tell you."

Tango shook his head vehemently. "No! Nuh-uh. This is my rescue mission."

"While I appreciate your tenacity," Helsknight bared his teeth at the Hermit, causing him to shrink back a step, "hels is for helsmets. You wouldn't last ten minutes here. And I'm not wasting time keeping you safe."

"You protect Tanguish just fine."

"Tanguish can outrun everything that chases, and out-clever anything else."

"And he came from me," Tango said, crossing his arms petulantly. "I'm plenty smart! And I can be speedy in a pinch!" He sniffed. "We'll just give your house a look-around, easy-peasy."

Helsknight made to argue, and then a thought occurred to him.

"This isn't my house."

Tango blinked. His eyes shifted around the small, relatively bare room. The single desk, shield mounted on the wall, and bed.

"Is it... An outpost or something? You put this up while you were exploring?"

"This is my Colosseum cell," Helsknight said. When Tango only stared at him blankly, "Surely Tanguish has told you about the Colosseum."

"I mean... He did."

"I have a room here. For when I don't want to walk across hels to sleep."

"There's a bunch of fighters out there."

"There is."

"Fighters who... Dislike... Hermits."

Helsknight snorted.

"W-well!!" Tango sputtered, noticeably more nervous, but doing his best to ignore it. "I'm! Still not leaving! So! We'll just have to be quick. And once we get outside--"

"We'll have to walk across hels. Hels, the city, is very big, and has a lot of people in it."

Tango put his face in his hands and let out a keening whine of dismay through his fingers. It was the kind of noise that suggested he didn't know how to growl in exasperation, so he howled instead. Helsknight, begrudgingly, admitted to himself he was being [a little] harsh. He decided, against his better judgement, to have a little mercy.

"You really want to find Tanguish."

"Yes! Yes I do!" Tango snapped, looking up at him beseechingly. "I mean, is it really that hard to believe you're not the only one who wants him to be safe?"

Helsknight's skepticism must've shown on his face, because Tango let out another of his exasperated, half-syllable noises and ran his hands back through his hair.

"Look, I promise I won't get in your way. And I'll go home the second we find him. I just... I'm worried."

Helsknight sighed and tried his best not to roll his eyes. He crossed the room to where he'd left his cloak, and motioned for Tango to join him. Hesitantly, nervously, Tango stood and waited as Helsknight flung the cloak over his shoulders. It would have been far too long, but he gathered some of the length to turn into a makeshift hood, bunching it awkwardly around Tango's shoulders. It took some folding and some pinning, but after a few minutes, Helsknight stepped back and nodded. It was passable anyway.

"Keep this on while we're in the Colosseum," Helsknight informed him, pulling the hood down low over Tango's face. "With any luck, people will assume you're Tanguish. Or at least that you're supposed to be with me."

"And, uh, if that doesn't work?" Tango asked, his voice pitching the barest bit higher in nervousness.

"We'll burn that bridge when we cross it," Helsknight snorted. He checked one last time to make sure his gear was all in place, and, squaring his shoulders, led the way out and into the cells.

Nobody noticed them leave the cells. Or, at the very least, nobody noticed who Tango was. A few people stopped Helsknight to try and talk, but when he made it clear he had places to be, they let him pass. Helsknight's patience was not a thing anyone wanted to shorten, even those few dangerous people who could probably weather the aftermath.

Soon enough they were walking down the streets of hels, Tango hovering so close to Helsknight's side they occasionally walked into each other. Helsknight wanted to be annoyed. He wanted to be even more annoyed by all of Tango's jabbering. The Hermit would make observations as they walked, pointing at buildings and asking questions that Helsknight rarely deigned to answer.

They weren't here to sight-see. They were here to find Tanguish. So when Tango asked him his twentieth question of the morning [You guys have a working water fountain? How do you have water in hels? Is it an update suppression thing, or does hels have different rules than a standard nether hub?] Helsknight scowled and started walking so quickly, Tango had to jog to keep up with his long strides. Panting, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other without tripping over cobblestones, he couldn't ask any more questions.

[Praise every god and saint in hels.]

Eventually they turned onto the street Helsknight's house was on, and immediately he knew something was wrong. Even from the end of the street, Helsknight could see the front door was open. A cold fist of dread clenched itself in his stomach, and Helsknight ran up the street, Tango protesting as he tried to keep pace.

The house had been ransacked. The door wasn't just open, it had been halfway knocked off its hinges, and the window at the front of the building had been smashed. He hadn't yet stepped inside, but from the red light streaming into the open doorway, Helsknight could see his little dining table and chairs had been knocked over. There was broken glass on the floor, and the pale gleam of metal -- Tanguish's dagger, dropped in a scuffle. There was no blood that Helsknight could see, but that was cold comfort.

"Oh... Shoot." Tango panted, standing beside him. "This is your house?"

Helsknight found himself swallowing past a growing lump in his throat. "Yes."

"Did you... Not go home yesterday?"

"No."

"Shoot." Tango said again, tugging on the edges of Helsknight's cloak nervously. "He left Hermitcraft in the afternoon. Would he-- would he have gone straight to the Colosseum if--"

"Probably."

"So. So this probably happened when he got here," Tango glanced up at Helsknight, gauging the knight's hesitation, and then picked his way cautiously to the door. "Does your house get broken into often?"

"If it did, there would be a lot fewer thieves in this city."

"I'll uh... Take that as a no." Tango stepped gingerly inside, the broken glass crunching beneath his boots. His tail, a liquid, fiery thing like his hair, swept around the floor, glinting off the glass shards like a field of sparks. He picked up Tanguish's knife and flipped it over in his hands, studying it before slipping it onto his belt. "No blood. Obvious signs of a struggle. I mean, he had to have been ambushed right? Otherwise he would've run for it. And they took him alive because, well, I mean, he would've just respawned right?"

The lump in Helsknight's throat got tighter. It was suddenly very hard to breathe.

"Right?" Tango prompted again.

"How much do you know about helsmets? How our respawns work?" Helsknight asked quietly.

"I know respawn is rough for you guys." Tango raised an eyebrow at him. "Or, I assume, I guess. Tanguish seems pretty scared of dying, anyway. And I know you take deaths in the Colosseum very seriously. A lot of warrior culture weirdness stuff."

Helsknight swallowed. The fear of speaking his thoughts out loud grabbed him by the throat and pinned him still. Adrenaline, cold and sourceless, sent ice through his veins. His fist clenched around the hilt of his sword, his instincts as a knight searching for a source for his alarm to fight and dispatch, even when his logical mind knew there was none.

[He didn't want to say it out loud.]

"Sometimes."

Helsknight cleared his throat uncomfortably. He didn't look at Tango. His eyes wandered around the broken glass at the Hermit's feet, watching the flame of his tail glint off the brittle, jagged edges.

"Sometimes."

He swallowed again. He adjusted the buckle on his gauntlet. It suddenly felt too loose around his wrist. He was too vulnerable to talk about this. He needed plate mail, or a helmet. Hels, he needed castle walls and a full garrison.

"Sometimes we... When the universe... We are. Uhm. We're different than--"

He could feel Tango's gaze heavy on him. His skin prickled with the weight of his stare and his own growing, frigid alarm. Something like panic, a rare and terrible beast, was crawling awake in Helsknight's stomach. It gnashed its teeth against his insides, and he felt the desire to laugh, or shout, or throw something, or maybe just throw up in general.

[Don't say it out loud.]

"Tango, sometimes we dont--"

"Well it's about gods-damned time!"

The amount of relief Helsknight felt at the sound of that hostile voice was profound and dissonant, and incredibly welcome. Mostly though, it was an excuse to focus all his pent up fear on something physical he could kill, and he praised every god and saint in hels as he turned to face the newcomers.

A group of four vaguely thug-like helsmets stood in the street less than twenty paces away from him. Helsknight's gaze swept across them, noting their mix-match of leather and gold armor. Two had swords -- gold and iron. One was twirling an axe in her hand in a flourish that was probably supposed to be threatening, but mostly just told Helsknight she'd been practicing axe-flourishes instead of axe-throws. The person who'd spoken, a rather weasely looking thug with a knife on his belt, grinned with glad maliciousness.

"We've been waiting for you to show up, tin can."

Helsknight didn't rise to the [insult?]. It wasn't worth his time. He cast a quick glance in Tango's direction, catching the fading flicker as the Hermit hid somewhere in the house. Good. Helsknight would prefer he not be under foot.

"Who are you?" Helsknight asked coolly, not really expecting a response. He flexed the fingers of his sword hand restlessly, itching to draw his blade. "And what have you done with Tanguish?"

"Come quietly and maybe we'll tell you," the ringleader said, motioning broadly with one hand for his thugs to fan out around him.

The three fighters moved to circle Helsknight, one stopping just in front of the ringleader, while the other two began stalking further up the street. Helsknight did the mental math of four against one, while he was surrounded, and decided he didn't like the odds.

Helsknight attacked before the first swordsman, the one with the golden sword, could pass him. He turned and drew his sword in the same motion, and the strength behind his cleaving overhead strike shattered the softer metal of their blade neatly. His second swing, lightning quick, took them in the throat. He pointed his bloodied sword at the second swordsman, who froze in shock, blade up in a shaking guard position, as they watched their ally fade into twitching death throws.

"Will you make me ask twice?" Helsknight hummed, his voice as level as the point of his sword.

The swordsman's eyes darted over his shoulder. Helsknight frowned, felt more than he heard the approach of something. He ducked and spun, sword arching over his head to catch a weapon strike that instinct told him was coming. There was the loud clash of metal on metal, and when Helsknight straightened, he found two more thugs had joined from... Somewhere. The roof perhaps. Helsknight backed up several steps, trying to keep the entire group in his sight line, and his back to his home. At least with his back to a wall, no one could get behind him. The four with weapons drawn advanced on him slowly, wary of his speed, and the efficiency of his strikes.

"Throw down your weapon, gladiator," the ringleader called to him. "If all you want is to see your friend again, we'll take you right to him." He flashed a wicked grin. "Though we might rough you up a little first."

At that, the axe-weilder leaped forward -- some uncanny sense of Helsknight's, honed for danger, demanded he duck as a whisper of noise hissed by his ear -- and she fell back shrieking, a bloody hole punched in her shoulder. It was only when the arrow cracked against a far wall that Helsknight realized she'd been shot at close range with a very high power bow. Tango leaned through the broken window, a terrified grin on his face, another arrow already knocked.

"Fight fair why don't ya!" He crowed and loosed his second shaft. This one grazed the thug closest to Helsknight, and he used the distraction to ram his sword through their chest.

What followed was a frenzy of breath and movement, seconds that ticked by as ages that he measured in the studied arc of his blade. One thug, then two, then three, scythed down like wheat in a field, crude skill and cruder weaponry breaking against his fortress of an onslaught. It was only when the last one fell that he realized the ringleader was making a run for it. Silent as a breath, Helsknight yanked his knife from his belt, aimed and threw. It hilted itself in the back of the ringleader's left knee, and he fell to the cobblestones howling.

"Holy-- nice shot!" Tango laughed, the high piping sound of the traumatized and terrified. "What are you--? Wait! Helsknight! Wait a tick--!"

Helsknight wasn't listening. He was angry, and the implication that Tanguish was captured somewhere goaded him on like a burning brand between his shoulder blades. There was a very mean little animal of panic in his chest again, warring with the adrenaline of the fight, and he thought, if he had the mind to, he might tear the ringleader in half with his bare hands.

[It would be easy. One hand on the back of the neck, one at the base of the spine. His boots were heavy, and if he planted a few strong kicks at the knuckles of a vertebrae he was pretty sure he could--]

It was a mountain of restraint that made him stoop instead to pick the ringleader up by the collar and slam him into the nearest wall. His head bounced against the bricks behind him and his breath whooshed out of his lungs, leaving him dazed and gasping while Helsknight leaned his full weight into him to pin him still. Not that he was going anywhere fast with a bad knee anyway.

"Talk," Helsknight growled, nearly nose to nose with the thug. "My friend. Where is he."

The thug whined, eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted in pain. "I'm not-- I'm not telling you anything. Y-you're not that scary."

For a very brief moment, Helsknight was so angry he actually did see red. He pulled his gauntleted fist back, fully intent on putting a dent between the thugs eyes -- when Tango leaped up and grabbed his forearm in both hands, dragging it down again.

"Hey! Hermitcraft to Punchy McMurderface!" Tango shouted frantically, clinging to Helsknight's arm for dear life. "Don't do that!"

"Why shouldn't I?" Helsknight snarled, grinding his teeth.

"Because if he's concussed unconscious he can't answer your questions, skippy!" Tango snapped fearfully, flinching back as though he expected Helsknight to punch him instead.

Helsknight, who had been expecting a much more stupid excuse [Something like, "Oh no Helsknight, don't punch the bandit that's mean and icky!" maybe] was momentarily caught off guard by the logical answer. He stood there, glaring down at Tango, panting as the red tinge the world had taken on faded back a bit.

"I'm st-still not answering your stupid questions," the thug sputtered bravely. "If you th-think I'm going to betray my guild--"

Helsknight hissed a breath out through his teeth. He reached for his dagger at his hip-- and remembered he'd already thrown it.

"Besides!" The thug gasped fearfully, realizing, probably, what Helsknight was looking for. "Y-you're a knight right? You've gotta be! No run-of-the-mill gladiator swings a sword like that! Knights don't torture people! It's against your religion or some shit."

Helsknight, whose anger was boiling up his throat again, considered the implications of renouncing his knighthood for one afternoon. Less than an afternoon. Surely it wouldn't take more than an hour to break a few bones. His Saint could only damn him to a lesser ring of hell. Maybe if he explained it was for something very important when he went to confession--

Tango spoke first. "Yeah but, knights are the law, too, aren't they?"

The thug briefly stopped breathing.

"I mean, they're deputized, technically." Tango continued, shoving his hands in his pockets. Helsknight suspected it was so no one could see them shaking. "At least, that's how knights in my world work. And I haven't seen any cops around. So. He's the law right now. And I don't know a lot about hels law, but I know you cut people's hands off around here for stealing things."

Tango looked up at Helsknight. "What do you think, Killer? I mean, technically they stole a person, right?"

Helsknight, despite his current fury and desperation, and despite his fearsome reputation, and despite, even, his ugly thoughts of a few moments ago, was not a torturer. He had inflicted some terrible wounds on people before, some to the point of what he would call cruelty, but never had he drawn a weapon with the explicit aim of causing pain and suffering. It was a line he had never really dared to cross, barring a few very harrowing fights with Wels, when he had flirted with the idea of that danger and eventually stayed his hand. There were some things a man could not do without carving out pieces of his soul in the process, where the gap between thought and action was a chasm, and to cross it was to never return to safety again.

Helsknight searched the darkest parts of himself for the will to remove someone's hand to get information. He searched the darkest parts of himself for the will to torture someone to find out where Tanguish was. A very sick, cold, empty feeling opened up in the pit of Helsknight's stomach. When he looked to the thug again, he had scrubbed himself of anger, and adrenaline, and, he hoped, fear. His expression must have been truly grim, because he watched the thug's face pale fearfully, his pupils pinpricks in too-wide eyes.

Helsknight threw the thug to the ground, forcing Tango to stumble back a few steps to get out of the way. His boot came down on the thug's shoulder, pinning him against the cobblestones. Panicked hands scrabbled at his ankle, nails sliding off the metal of his grieve. Helsknight was reminded of a rat trying desperately to climb out of a well, drowning.

"Hold your arm out, and hold it still," Helsknight said, his voice deathly calm. He leaned more weight into his heel, eliciting a long whine of pain from his captive. "I would hate to miss your wrist, and take your arm off at the elbow instead."

The thug was clearly panicked. Helsknight honestly couldn't blame him. He was very close to panicking himself. He kept shoving his feelings down into that cold empty place in his stomach, and replacing them with the mask he wore when he played the villain in the Colosseum. He quietly, forcefully, informed himself that this was a role he was playing, and like every role, he would play it very well. And then the performance would be over, and he could feel feelings about it then. After the screaming had stopped, and the blood had dried.

Tango had turned his back to him, his hands clasped over his ears. He did not run away. He did not leave. It was a show of solidarity Helsknight neither wanted nor expected, but found himself grateful for anyway.

"Last chance," Helsknight said. He lifted his sword, ready to plunge it down into the outstretched arm. He thought, in the detached way of the horrified, that if he could catch the tip of his sword between the bones of the wrist, that might be the fastest way to... To...

The thug closed his eyes and turned his face away.

Helsknight let out a long, slow breath. He drove the sword down. The thug screamed. The blade cracked against the cobblestones.

There was no blood. There was no dismemberment. The thug had pulled his arm away at the last moment, and clung to Helsknight's boot with both hands, shrieking. Helsknight's ears were buzzing. He couldn't hear what the thug was saying. His heart was racing, and his mind was so terribly, terribly empty. He felt... Numb. It was very hard to keep his sword in his hands.

A hand tapped gently on his arm. Helsknight blinked down at Tango, feeling vaguely like someone was waking him from a nightmare.

"Let me go!" The thug was yelling, scrabbling with renewed vigor against Helsknight's boot. "I told you what you wanted! Let me go!"

"Did you... Catch all that?" Helsknight asked, trying desperately to pluck coherent thoughts from the droning emptiness in his head.

"Sure thing."

[Ah... Good.]

Tango kicked his boot against the thug's side, more a nudge than anything. "Alright. We're going to let you go. Tell your guild boss or whatever that we'll be outside his place tomorrow at noon. Be ready to negotiate or -- uh -- be ready to get dead, I guess."

It was not a threat that would go down in the annuls of history as a great villain monologue, but the thug, shaking and terrified and in pain, took it deadly serious. Helsknight released him, and he hobbled away down the road as fast as he could on a bad leg. They watched him in silence until he disappeared down a side alley, leaving them in an empty street scattered in left over items from the other fallen thugs.

"Tomorrow?" Helsknight asked, his voice sounding very far away in his own ears.

"Today," Tango answered. "Telling them tomorrow makes them think they have time to prepare, and if they're preparing, they're not, you know, hurting Tanguish."

"Ah."

"You alright?" Tango squinted up at him. "You look like you're in shock."

"Mh." Helsknight dropped his gaze to the ground. His dagger had been left behind. He took a step forward... and sank to the ground.

"Woah! Hey, hey! Easy big guy--"

Helsknight found himself on his hands and knees, shaking, smothering under the weight of guilt and his own potential for horror. His head was buzzing again, a nauseating sound like the static of the void. His eyes found his dagger again, and he lunged for it. Moving on something between impulse and habit, driven by guilt and self-disgust, he ripped the blade across his wrist, spilling blood across the ground. With shaking hands he grabbed up his sword and set the tip against the cobblestones, his forehead pressed against the hilt, eyes screwed shut.

"Saint of Blood and Steel," Helsknight breathed, with all the desperation of a sinner crawling to an altar, "forgive me for what I would have done." He pressed his forehead so hard against the cold netherite of the hilt, it hurt. "Please, please, forgive me for what I would have done."

His nose stung with the smell of blood and metal and salt and sealing wax. His mouth tasted like bile, and he could feel every fluttering heartbeat in the cut on his wrist. The buzzing in his head, slowly, slowly, alongside the speed of his racing heart, ebbed. The animal panic curled up in his chest and grumbled as it started to ease itself to sleep. He realized someone was rubbing circles into his back, and whispering at him, and tugging at his hands.

Tango was not trying to be reassuring. At least, he wasn't trying to be reassuring so that Helsknight would be calm. He muttered things under his breath like, "Okay, easy now, no big deal, it's fine," and "Let it go. Nice and easy. Good knight. Scary knight..." The circles he rubbed into Helsknight's back were shaky and awkward, and very clearly a distraction for his other hand, which worked on uncurling Helsknight's fingers from the knife. Helsknight, his exhausted wits finally returning, had mercy on him and released it. Tango snatched up the knife like it were a snake he feared would bite someone. He grimaced at the blood on the blade, and, not knowing what else to do, wiped it off on Helsknight's cloak, before shoving the knife beside Tanguish's in his belt.

"So, just for establishing the rest of this afternoon," Tango said, when he realized Helsknight had come crawling out of his stupor. "Should I be worried about you hurting yourself randomly? Like, does this happen on a regular basis? Do you have triggers I should be making safe words for or--?"

"No." Helsknight said, trying not to feel ridiculous.

"Right. So that was just a one time thing? Because if it's not a one time thing, I'm not judging or anything. But, like, I might recommend seeing a hels therapist or something."

"No I--" Helsknight had no desire to explain that he had a Saint, and that Saint had tenets he'd sworn to, and he had been preparing to go smashing through them like a sledgehammer, mostly because she didn't want to admit it to himself either. He didn't want to admit that he had been on the verge of turning his back on everything that made him himself, because he was desperate and scared, and he didn't want to admit that if he wasn't a knight, he had no idea what he even was at all. Instead he fell back on what the thug had said, because it wasn't wholly true, but it also wasn't a lie. "Knight. Torture. Against my religion. Or. Whatever."

Helsknight leaned on his sword like it was his last hope of salvation.

"Very, very against my religion."

"R-right." Tango put on a complicated expression. The kind of expression one gives when they're realize they're walking on a minefield. "But. You know. You didn't actually torture anyone. Right? So. God can't be mad. So you don't have to slash your wrists for god, right?"

"I would have." Helsknight's eyes found a chipped cobblestone. "If he hadn't moved... I... Would have."

That feeling of frigid dread spidered it's way down his ribs again to pool in his stomach.

"Well. But. But. You didn't." Tango swallowed audibly. "You didn't. And that's what god cares about, right? And, even if god does care, you were following the letter of the law. And if god cares about that too. Uh. God. God can. Take it up? With me."

Helsknight barked a half-hearted laugh. "You going to defend my honor from god, Hermit?"

"Yes," Tango said uncomfortably. "Because I was the one who told you to do it. So. Double damn both of us, right?"

They looked at each other. They looked away from each other.

"Tanguish is going to kill us when he finds out what we did to find him," Helsknight said.

"I won't tell if you don't."

They looked at each other. Tango offered a hand to help Helsknight stand. When Helsknight took it, they grabbed each other's forearms, and it felt uncannily like a pact, or a promise.

"I won't tell if you don't," Helsknight murmured.

Helsknight sheathed his sword, and ran a hand through his hair, trying, with some success, to pull himself back together.

"We should... Get moving." Tango observed, looking up the street.

"I didn't hear a word he said."

"I've got it all up here buddy," Tango said, tapping the side of his head and offering a half-smile that didn't quite make it to his eyes. "So uh... You know anything about a Thief Guild?"

[aliaology]

SO AMERICAN (short)

SUMMARY: in which holtzy and you are dating, and you are very much in love with him

PAIRINGS: alexander holtz x fem!hughes!reader

WARNINGS: none just fluff :)

driving on the, right side road. he says im pretty, wearing his clothes. and hes got hands that, make hell seem cold. feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem i wish i wrote. i wish i wrote.

you were the prime example of ‘passenger princess’ but in your very own car. i mean— it wasn’t necessarily your fault that you weren’t the best suited to drive in the city. no no— it was jacks because all he did was drive you and luke around.

but your brother was not the one driving. no, it was your boyfriend who was. you also never understood why he loved to drive your car. but the actual reason was because it was so… you. and he loved that.

your feet were propped on the dashboard, notebook and pen in your lap and hand as you mindlessly scribbled words together. alex’s hand was on your thigh, the warmth from his hand spreading throughout your body like a wildfire.

his fingers traced lightly on your bare thighs, pinky almost sliding up and hitting your shorts with every move he made. the bumps in the road made it so his hand would lightly hit your skin.

your eyes were averted to the pen and paper as you eagerly wrote down word after word, his hand squeezing your thigh every few minutes.

as he squeezed your thigh one more time, you looked over to him. he was the epitome of a love poem and you wished you were the one to write it. with a soft smile on your face, you leaned closer to him and placed your lips onto his cheek.

and he laughs at all my jokes, and he says im so american! oh god, its just not fair of him to make me feel this much. go anywhere he goes, and he says im so american! oh god, im gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. i might just be in la-la-la-la-love.

you two were at a restaurant, smiling at each other. you spoke, hushed and quietly, almost with embarrassment. your words caused him to burst with laughter, hand slapping over his mouth as his shoulders shook.

his reaction caused you to giggle, a bright smile on your face. the smile would quickly turn to one of embarrassment when you ask a waitress for a meal— one that you have trouble pronouncing. and he laughs as the waitress leaves.

you had a frown on your face— not one of sadness but one of ‘are you kidding me?’

alex snorted as he spoke, “you are so american.”

feigning a look of offense, your eyes narrowed slightly, giving a look of hurt. this just caused alex to chuckle more before grabbing your hand and pressing a small kiss to it.

“how about we just get out of here instead? i think i’d very much rather eat in.” he suggested.

and so you went wherever he did. you ditched the restaurant. you ditched the fancy dinner, and you went home. when you got home; you both eagerly sat on the couch and just watched a movie.

god im so boring, and im so rude! cant have a conversation if its not all about you. the way you dress and, the books you read. i really love my bed but man its hard to sleep when he’s with me. when he’s with me…!

you sat with your friends, picking at your nails as they spoke. their conversation being something about style— something about clothes. you weren’t too interested, you weren’t even talking.

“anything to add, y/n?” one asked.

you shrugged. “i don’t know— style wise i really like alex’s and maybe i’m just biased but it seems super comfy. shockingly he also has a great taste in books and—“

“girl all you do is take about your man!” your friend cut you off.

another friend piped up, “can’t say i blame her. i mean we’ve been friends for what? seven years? in that time frame shes had one boyfriend and he kinda sucked. if i had a man treat me the way hers does, i’d be plastering that everywhere.”

your last friend shrugged. “i get it— honestly i want to hear more about this guy. she talks about him but its never enough because someone interrupts her.”

“its fine— all you really need to know about him is that he treats me very well, and i love him.”

after your little get together with your friends, you made your way to your apartment. the sun was setting and you wanted to lay in bed. but as soon as you got home, locked up and went to your room and saw your boyfriend, you knew for a fact you wouldn’t be going to sleep.

i apologize if its a little too much, just a little too soon. but if the conversation ever were to come up i don’t wanna assume this stuff. but aint it rough? think im in love!

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Lets go! Winter soldier!bucky goes on a mission with y/n, it is her first mission. Hydra is obviously sick for taking in you, a easily startled teen. winter soldier orders her to stay in Hydra's vehicles because he doesn't want y/n to get hurt<3 You kept hearing about him at Hydra, of course you would want to stay next to him and try to not look weak!

This might not be the type of requests you usually receive, please tell me in case you're not okay with it. Have a great week!

Trying To Protect You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Winter Soldier x Teen!Female Reader

Summary: You go on your first mission with the Winter Soldier, but he’s trying to protect you at the same time.

Warnings: Fluff, language, HYDRA, violence, brief mention of blood, use of nicknames

Age of reader: 16 years old

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also I imagined this took place during Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

A/N #2: This is different from what I normally write so I decided to give it a try. I used Google translate for the Russian translations. I apologize if I got anything wrong.

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

You jumped at the sound of your cell’s door opening. Brock Rumlow walks in your cell and grabbed your bicep with a bruising grip, pulling you up from your spot on the bed.

“Wh-Where are you taking me?” You asked him nervously.

“Pierce wants to talk to you.” Brock says.

Brock takes you to the room where they do experiments on you, forcing you to sit down in the chair. Brock went to strap your arms and legs down to the chair, but Pierce stopped him.

“Restraints aren’t necessary this time.” Pierce says.

Brock nodded and stepped off to the side. You nervously looked up at Pierce, waiting for him to tell you why you’re there.

“As you know, your skills have been improving since the day you got here, fighting wise.” Pierce approaches you and crouches down in front of you. “From what I understand, you’ve made a great impression on the Winter Soldier. He told me that he’s impressed with your skills, but I’m sure he told you that.” He says.

You nodded your head, waiting for him to continue.

“So I’ve been thinking…” He stood up straight and took a couple steps back from you. “You’re ready for your first mission.” He says.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yes. You’re joining the Winter Soldier on his mission.” Pierce tells you and began walking towards the door. “You’re leaving in a half hour.” He says before the door closed behind him.

You sat there for a moment, thinking about what you’ve heard about the Winter Soldier. You know that he’s one of HYDRA’s best assassins and he has a metal arm for a left arm. He’s also the one who’s been training you. Your thoughts were interrupted when a HYDRA agents gave you a mission suit to put on, along with combat boots. Another agent put a bullet proof vest on you. Then you followed the agents out to the vehicles. You smiled when you seen the Winter Soldier as you got in one of the vehicles. He nodded at you as he got in the vehicle, sitting next to you. Moments later, the Winter Soldier and other agents got out of the vehicles. You were following suit, but you were stopped by the Winter Soldier.

“Stay in the car.” He says.

“But-” The Winter Soldier shut the car door before you could get another word out.

You sighed and watched from the tinted car window. Your senses were telling you that you should be out there helping him. You know you should obey his orders and stay in the car, but he’s part of your team and you need to help him. You opened the center console and found a gun and bullets. You loaded the gun and got out of the vehicle. You located a target at shot at him, but missed. An agent turned around and seen you. He went to walk towards you, but the Winter Soldier stopped him.

“Я получил ее.” The Winter Soldier said to the agent in Russian.

He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side.

“I told you to stay in the car.” He says sternly.

“I know, but my senses told me that you needed help.” You said honestly and looked down, feeling ashamed.

“I get that you’re just going with what your senses are telling you, but I don’t want you to get hurt.” He says.

You opened your mouth to say something when a bullet came flying towards you two. The Winter Soldier grabbed you with his metal arm and held you against him while using his right hand to shoot at whoever shot the bullet at the two of you. The sound of the gun going off startled you. Your hands grasped onto his tactical vest, holding it tightly.

“This is the reason why I told you to stay in the car.” He says.

“Ok, but Pierce said this is my mission too and I intend on helping you.” You say.

He sighed, not wanting to argue with you.

“Fine, but you stay by my side, understand?” He says.

“I understand, Soldat.” You say.

You kept your word and stood by him. Maybe you weren’t as ready for a mission as you thought, because you jumped almost every time you heard a loud noise that wasn’t a gun. The Winter Soldier noticed how jumpy you were and grabbed your arm, running away from the scene. He took you to an alley where it was calmer and quieter for you.

“I’m going to say something and I want you to listen, ok?” He says.

You looked at him and nodded your head.

“When we go back out there, I want you to get back in the car where it’s safer. That’s an order, soldier.” He says.

“But-” You stopped talking when he gave you the look, the dad look. “Yes, Bucky.” You mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

You’re the only person in HYDRA who calls him Bucky. You learned his name your first year after being kidnapped by HYDRA.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” Bucky puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I also want what’s best for you. Do you understand?” He says softly.

“Yes, I understand.” You say.

He poked his head out from the alley, making sure the coast is clear for you to go straight to one of the vehicle.

“Coast is clear. Follow me.” Bucky says.

You followed closely behind him. You still jumped at the noises, but you were fine as long as you were close to Bucky. He opened the car door and you got in the vehicle. You turned around to see him holding his hand out.

“Give me the gun.” Bucky says.

You pouted and handed him the gun. He continued to hold his hand out and gave you the dad stare.

“I know you have extra bullets and don’t even try to lie and say you don’t.” He says.

You sighed and got the extra bullets out of your pocket and put the bullets in his hand, still pouting cause you want to help him.

“Soldiers don’t pout.” Bucky states. “If you want to help me, you can look out the window and keep an eye out for me, ok?” He says, trying to reason with you.

“Ok.” You say quietly.

Bucky kissed your forehead and closed the car door, going back to the mission. As you were keeping an eye out from your position in the car, everything looked like it was going smoothly. That was until a bullet shot through the front windshield. You screamed and covered your head, ducking to the car floor. Bucky’s enhanced hearing picked up your scream and he immediately ran to the car, opening the car door and seen you shaking on the car floor.

“Hey, you’re ok.” He says softly.

You uncovered your head and looked up, seeing Bucky. You practically launched yourself into his arms. Bucky securely wrapped his arms around you and pulled you out of the car. He gently put your feet on the ground and grabbed your hand, quickly taking you somewhere safe.

“Are you hurt?” Bucky asks, checking you for obvious injuries.

“No. I’m just shaken up is all.” You tell him.

Bucky’s facial expression softens when he seen a cut on your forehead with blood coming out of it, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked confused.

Bucky continued to look at the cut on your forehead, making sure it’s not deep. You reached your hand up to your forehead and felt something wet.

“Am I bl-bleeding?!” You asked, beginning to freak out.

“Just a little bit.” He says as he continues to examine it.

You took your hand off your forehead and seen blood in your hand, making your eyes widen.

“Hey, look at me.” He coos. “You’re going to be fine.” He says softly.

“But I’m bleeding.” You say.

“Yes you are, but you’re going to get patched up when we get back to base.” He says.

Bucky pulled you in for a hug to calm your nerves which helped a lot. After a moment, he pulled away from the hug, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“You ready to go back out there?” Bucky asks.

“Yes.” You nodded. “Let go kick some ass!” You say.

Bucky gave you the dad look once again when you said a curse word. He doesn’t like it when you say curse words.

“Sorry.” You mumbled.

Bucky just chuckled and shrugged it off. He pulled a gun out of the holster, loading it with bullets and gave it to you.

“Stay by me and shoot when I say to, got it?” He says.

“Yes, Bucky.” You answered.

“Alright. Let’s get back out there, doll.” He says with a smile and patted your shoulder.

After the mission, you were dreading what Pierce was going to say or do to you. You were looking down at your feet as you were walking past him, but he stopped you in your tracks by grabbing your arm and pulled you towards him, making you stumble.

“Mission Report, soldier.” Pierce commands, looking down at you.

“Successful.” You inform him, lying through your teeth.

“I hope you’re telling the truth cause you know the consequences.” He says.

“Yes, sir.” You say.

“You’re dismissed.” He let go of your arm. “Rumlow, escort her to her cell.” He says.

Brock nodded and grabbed your bicep with a bruising grip like he did earlier and escorted you to your cell. He shoved you in your cell, making you trip over your own feet and fall. Luckily you landed on the bed and not the hard concrete floor. You got cleaned up and changed. You sat on the bed, holding your knees against your chest. You jumped at the sound of the cell door open and close. You relaxed when you seen Bucky. Bucky sneaks in your cell to keep you company when he’s able to.

“Hey, kid.” Bucky says, taking a seat on the bed in front of you.

“Hey, Bucky.” You say quietly, loud enough for him to hear.

“How’re you feeling after your first mission?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “What’s there to feel?” You say.

Bucky nodded in agreement.

“I want you to understand something.” He starts. “When I give you orders during future mission, I expect you to follow through with them. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He says.

“Ok. I’ll listen better next time.” You say understandingly.

Bucky smiles and patted the bed next to him. You moved closer to him and he wrapped his arms around you, giving you a loving hug.

“I also want you to understand that I’m trying to protect you.” He says, kissing the top of your head.

“I understand.” You looked up at him. “Thank you for protecting me.” You say with a smile.

“You’re welcome, kiddo.” Bucky smiles down at you. “Get some sleep. You need it after the day you had.” He says.

You snuggled yourself against his side, slowly falling asleep. Knowing that Bucky is there to protect you made it easier for you to fall asleep. By the end of the day, Bucky just wants what’s best for you.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll