#but that failed and now i share her with you
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Mythal, Solas, and Lavellan (An Analysis)
Please be aware that this post contains spoilers for Dragon Age: The Veilguard, so now is the time to click away until you have finished the game. All opinions shared here are just opinions, and are not intended to be presented as fact. đ
So, this is sort of an abridged version of what could be (and may someday be) a more in-depth analysis, but I just want to offer a different perspective on the Mythal vs. Lavellan discourse when it comes to Solasâ love and loyalty. I've included a lot of supporting evidence from the game, and wanted to share some of it for your consideration: I want to start in the Lighthouse, for the folks who are upset that we didn't see Lavellan amongst Solas' memories. I think this is for the best, all things considered. The regrets we see in the Lighthouse are all of Mythalâ taking a form for her, letting her mold him, doing things he thought were âmonstrousâ at her request, however well (or ill) intentioned. To me, Solas regrets Mythal nearly as a whole. He loved her, certainly, but I think itâs very apparent that he wants more than anything to close that chapter of his life and move on, which he cannot do without confronting the mistakes of his past. From my view, itâs an excellent sign, actually, that Lavellan is not among the great regrets of his life. He says to Rook that he regrets being selfish with herâ but he âcherishesâ his closeness with, and his love for Lavellan âmore than [his] victories.â The same cannot be said of anything on those walls in the Lighthouse.
That same closeness with Mythalâ regardless of whether it was romantic, platonic, familialâ hurt him, over and over. Everything he did in service of that love, he regrets. He does not cherish it, at least not in the same way. I think I wouldâve been offended, frankly, if Lavellan had been on those walls beside her.
Moreover, he acknowledges Lavellanâs goodness, and doesnât really do that for Mythal, at least not here. Yes, in Trespasser, he said that Mythal was the best of the Evanuris, but we know itâs a low bar to clear. Does that mean she was evil? Not necessarily. But he also says to Rook that all the Evanuris âwere monsters, in their own ways,â and moments later tells them, by contrast, that Lavellan âis a good woman.â
I donât think itâs his love for Mythal (or even his loyalty to her) that keeps him away from Lavellan, either. He cannot in good conscience give himself what he wants most without first fixing what he broke. He doesnât want to bring down the Veil anymore, not really. He even acknowledges the Dalish as "our people," to an elven Rook (Lavellan's influence?), and says it was a "privilege" to help them again. He says in the final confrontation that he is compelled to bring down the Veil at this point because otherwise, he has failed and wronged and harmed people for nothingâ Lavellan among them. He says, more or less, that he has to see it through, has to bring back âthe world [Mythal] wanted,â or else all the suffering heâs imposed has been in vain. That reads to me as a sunk cost fallacy more than an act of great loyalty.Â
If weâre talking about what Solas wanted, by comparison, we see it in his codex letter to Lavellanâ he says, outright, âI could haveâŠeven put my plans aside, and simply stayed with you as SolasâŠwhich is what I wanted.â His desires do not match Mythalâs, and in fact are the opposite. But again, how can he allow himself to have his own way when he does not yet feel he has righted his wrongs?Â
Here we wade into murkier waters (as this could be a more personal interpretation than what was actually intended), but I think itâs fascinating that in Solasâ memory of manifestation, he tells Mythal, âI will always follow where you go.â I think this may be his original regret. I think he wishes he wouldâve followed his heart (both in the moral sense, and later, the vhenan sense), rather than pledging himself to another being that âbroke him,â as Mythal herself admits to doing.
And speaking of vhenan, my final note: Mythal is never anything but Mythal, to Solas. Even when she calls him âlove" in his memories, he does not reciprocate. He refers to her as nothing besides her name. Lavellan is always given the title of Vhenan. He has not called her Inquisitor since before Trespasser, and even then it was because he was trying to create distance, to avoid hurting her further. But ultimately she is his heart, and he wants to follow her, and Mythal is the only thing stopping himâ not because he is holding onto her, but because she is in his way.
#let me soothe your solavellan hurt y'all#solas#solavellan#datv#veilguard#dragon age#dragon age spoilers#dragon age the veilguard#solas meta#mythal#evanuris#dragon age veilguard#da4#datv spoilers#solavellan spoilers#veilguard spoilers#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#da4 spoilers#da:tv#da:tv spoilers#solavellan hell
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Waste a Moment / Part 6
Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her)Â
Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.
Requested by : Â @remoony
Word count : 2.7k
Note : I am a sucker for slow burn, I apologise. Best friend!Yelena is in this one! Enjoy! (Iâm still uploading every other day!)
Series Masterlist
âLive Wireâ
Thursday.
Rejoining the training sessions was⊠something.
It felt strange, like stepping into a role that was made for you, if only you were better.Â
You knew (or at least everyone told you) that you were a part of this team, that you were once strong and capable. But now you couldnât recall why or how.
The familiar scent of the training facility, the clang of metal, the faint buzz of conversation from otherworldly superheroesâ it felt like a stage, and you were just an actor.Â
Every step forward felt like the foundation beneath you would crumble any second. The memories of missions and battles shared with these people were just another fog you couldnât seem to see through.Â
The visits from your teammates, your friends, were nice. They just didnât help.Â
The memories weren't coming back, so they were never gonna help.
But you werenât here to dwell on the gaps in your mindâ you were here to train and fight.
Bucky and Clint took the lead in helping you regain your strength, your muscle memory, and your instincts. They started with the basics: hand-to-hand combat, endurance sessions, and weapons training.Â
I should be able to do this with my eyes closed, you told yourself.Â
The reality was far more frustrating.
You found yourself stumbling over things that should come naturally. A punch that should have landed easily got lost in the air. A knife that once felt like an extension of your arm now felt slippery in your grip.Â
You missed, you faltered.Â
Each time you failed, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered: Youâre not the hero you used to be. You are not who they say you were.
Every mistake seemed to put a distance between who you were and who you are now. You wanted to scream, to lash out, to demand answers from your fractured memory. But no matter how hard you pushed yourself, the pieces never came back together.
And yet, Bucky was patient.
You werenât blind to the soft and protective looks he gave you.
âYouâre doing great,â he said after a particularly gruelling session. He handed you a towel as you sat on the bench, panting in short breaths and dripping with sweat.
Your brows furrowed. âI missed half my shots, Buck. Thatâs not great.â
He crouched down in front of you, holding your hand in ressurance. âItâs only your first day.âÂ
Friday.
The second day felt a little less foreign, though the frustration was still there. You walked into the training room with muscles sore from yesterdayâs efforts, but there was a quiet determination there now.
Clint was already there, arms crossed after you took a short water break. He gave you a small, reassuring nod. âReady for round two?â he asked, his voice warm.
You nodded.
The drill began, and while you still missed more than you hit, something felt different today. You were far from perfect, but every punch and every kick felt a little sharper.Â
Wednesday.
It wasnât long until you began to see real progress. The hits landed more frequently, your stance more grounded, your reflexes sharper.Â
This morning, during an intense sparring session, you felt everything click into place. The sound of fists meeting flesh, the heavy breaths, the rhythm of footworkâ all of it felt like a dance you once knew all the steps to.Â
Then it happened.
With a swift motion, you knocked Bucky off balance. His eyes widened briefly in surprise as he stumbled back, hitting the mat with a soft thud.Â
For a moment, you stared at him, stunned, your hands still raised in a defensive position.Â
âDid I justââ
Bucky looked up at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was a rare sight of pure joy that made your heart skip. âYou did,â he chuckled, brushing himself off as he stood.Â
A wide grin spread across your face, the rush of adrenaline making your heart race.Â
You had not believed Clint when he said muscle memory would kick in eventually, but now you might.
Friday.
Over the week, you started throwing yourself deeper into training. At times, it bordered on obsession. The confusion, the gaps in your memory, they hurt in a way you couldnât quite explain, so you drowned yourself in the physical pain of training to distract yourself.
Working with Rhodey and Bruce became your daily escape.Â
Together, they taught you new tactics and strategies, methods that felt both familiar and foreign at the same time.Â
They were cautious at first, as if handling fragile glass. But when you kept pushing, they began to push back, giving you a challenge they knew you were ready for.Â
You noticed the shift in their eyesâ recognition, even respect.
Each combat session left you drenched in sweat and aching everywhere, but there was a satisfaction in the exhaustion.Â
It gave you purpose.
Monday.
After a particularly gruelling training session, you collapsed onto the edge of the mat. Sweat dripped from your forehead as you tried to catch your breath. Every muscle in your body welt like it was on fire, reminding you just how much work it took to push past the limits of your body and mind.Â
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rhodey heading your way. With a half smile, he tossed a towel to you.Â
"You're starting to look like the old you," he teased encouragingly.
You smiled softly, wiping the sweat from your face. "I donât feel like her yet," you admitted.
It was true. The person you once were seemed so distant, like a ghost you couldnât quite reach. âI don't think I ever will.â You said. âNot entirely.â
Rhodey sat down beside you, leaning forward. He rested his elbows on his knees.Â
"You donât have to be," he said, "If anything, youâre better."Â
Better. Could that really be true?Â
Friday.
You were in the middle of a heated sparring session with Yelena. Like always, she wasnât going easy on you. Her precise movements kept you on your toes. She pushed you to your limits, and that was exactly what you needed.
Every dodge, every counterattack she made was technically perfect, and you had to stay extra focused just to keep up.
She ducked under one of your punches, twisting her body smoothly as she lashed out with a quick kick aimed at your ribs. But this time, you saw it coming.Â
You blocked the strike with your arm, feeling the force of the impact reverberate in your bones. Without hesitation, you swept low, catching Yelena off-guard. Her feet left the ground as she fell hard onto the mat.
For a second, she stared up at you in surprise.
Then, she broke into laughter.Â
âMaybe you are back,â she said between chuckles, the happiest youâve seen her since you returned back to training.
You couldnât help but smile as you reached down to offer her a hand. "Maybe," you said, pulling her to her feet.
She was beaming at you.
She was proud of you.
Yelena dusted herself off. âYou used to do that move all the time,â she said absentmindedly. âIt always caught me off guard.â
You tried to search for the memory she described, but there was only emptiness where it should have been.
Your smile faltered. âI⊠I donât remember that,â you admitted quietly.
Yelenaâs eyebrows softened.
âLook,â Yelena said, nudging your shoulder lightly. âIâm not going to get all sentimental on you, but youâre still kicking my ass. Thatâs a good sign.âÂ
You managed a small laugh, shaking your head. âI guess so.â
She smiled, but it wasnât just a teasing grin this timeâ it was softer, more understanding. âBesides, who needs the old stuff when we can make better memories?â
Her optimism was contagious. You found yourself nodding, though the ache in your chest hadnât entirely disappeared.Â
Yelena glanced at you. âWhat do you say we grab some lunch? I can remind you of all the stories youâve conveniently forgotten.â
You laughed, the sound coming easier now. âIâm in.â
â
Lunch with Yelena started off light and easy. You both sat in a small diner, the kind of place with cosy booths and mismatched mugs. For the first time in a while, you felt a little more relaxed. The sparring session had left you tired, but pleasantly so.Â
âSo, do you remember the time I convinced you to try those disgusting energy bars Natasha used to swear by?â Yelena started, a sly grin spreading across her face as she picked at her food. âYou gagged so hard you nearly threw up.â
You blinked, trying to dig into a memory again, but it came up blank. âI⊠canât say I do,â you said with an apologetic shrug, though her laughter made you smile, despite the emptiness.
âItâs fine,â Yelena waved it off. âJust trust me, you looked ridiculous.â Her grin widened, enjoying the memory enough for both of you.
Yelena launched into a couple more stories, trying to paint you vivid pictures of missions and moments that felt so far away. You could hear the fondness in her voice as she spoke, you could see the gleam in her eyes when she talked about how you used to bicker with her over ridiculous things, like the right way to disarm someone or who was faster at sneaking through security. Of course she claimed she was always right.
It made you feel⊠connected, even if the memories were missing. It gave you hope that maybe, you could rebuild these relationships from the ground up.Â
Just as you started to feel more settled, Yelenaâs tone shifted ever so slightly. She leaned back, her voice casual.
âSo,â she began slowly, âhowâs it going with Bucky? I heard youâre still staying with him.â
It seemed to come out of nowhere.Â
You blinked, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift in conversation. Brushing it off as bluntness, you quickly recovered.
The warmth in your voice was unmistakable. âHeâs been incredible.â
Yelena raised an eyebrow, her fork pausing mid-air. âIncredible?âÂ
There was something about her toneâsomething you couldnât quite placeâbut you didnât think too much of it. Instead, you nodded, your mind drifting back to Bucky.Â
âHeâs sweet,â you continued, a soft smile playing on your lips. âCaring.â You hesitated, trying to find the right words. âI donât think Iâd be managing as well as I have without him.â
Yelenaâs gaze didnât move. If anything, her eyes seemed to narrow slightly.
âInteresting,â she murmured, more to herself than to you.
You didnât catch the shift in her demeanour, too lost in your own thoughts about Bucky. But Yelenaâs mind was racing, almost as quickly as her heart.Â
She knew Bucky well.Â
She had seen him around you before your memory loss, had seen the way heâd acted toward youâ distant, cold, even cruel at times.Â
Bucky had always been in love with you; that had always been obvious to Yelena. But he had never let himself get close to you. He didnât think he deserved you, didnât think he was worthy of anything or anyone good in his life.Â
Yelena had watched as he pushed you away time and time again, putting up walls whenever you got too close. Sheâd seen the way he kept you out, how he said things that were hurtful things that had made you question whether he even liked you at all.Â
Yelena remembered that night with perfect clarity.Â
It had been the night before everything changedâ before the mission that took your memories.
She could still see the way you looked when you knocked on her apartment door that nightâ tired, heartbroken. Your knock had been soft, hesitant, like you didnât really want to be there but had nowhere else to go.Â
Yelena had opened the door to find you standing there, looking like a shell of yourself.
âHe said he didnât want my company.â Your voice had been shaky, small, barely above a whisper. âBucky said he felt like he couldnât breathe around me.â
Yelena had rolled her eyes, more out of frustration with Bucky than anything else.Â
âBoys,â she had muttered under her breath, motioning for you to come inside, not knowing then that this was the last time she would see you like thisâthe last time youâd even remember the pain he had caused.
You had slumped down onto her couch, hands trembling slightly as you wiped your eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling.Â
She had seen this pattern before.Â
Bucky pushed you away, lashed out, cutting himself off from you just when you were trying to get close.Â
âI donât know why he does this,â you had said, your voice cracking. âAll I do is try. All I ever do is fucking try, and he just⊠he just hates me. I just want him to at least tolerate me. We work together, don't we?â
That had gotten to Yelena the mostâthat wounded look in your eyes, the disbelief in your voice.Â
You had slumped back further into the couch. âI swear,â you had muttered that day, voice thick with exhaustion and anger. âIâm not gonna fucking try anymore. Iâm done.â
Yelena hadnât known what to say back then. Part of her had wanted to tell you to forget about him, to let Bucky sort out his own mess, but sheâd known you too well. Sheâd seen the way you looked at himâthe way you cared deeply, despite everything.Â
She had settled for sitting beside you in silence.Â
She had never imagined that the next day, everything would spiral out of controlâthat the mission you went on would end with you in a hospital bed, your mind wiped clean of so much of what made you you.Â
And now, watching you across the table, smiling so easily as if Bucky had always been this kind version of himself, Yelena felt that same frustration.
She wanted to tell you what heâd done, how he had pushed you awayâhurt you. But looking at you now, seeing the way you spoke about him with admiration, Yelena bit her tongue. She couldnât destroy that peace for you.
Not yet.Â
But what is this?
Bucky was suddenly different? You were telling her that he was sweet and caring? That he was doting on you? It didnât make sense. Why was Bucky suddenly so attentive, so affectionate? What changed?Â
Now that you didnât remember, why was he this perfect version of himself, the one you had always wanted him to be?Â
Yelena couldnât shake the nagging feeling that something wasnât right.Â
Was Bucky taking advantage of the fact that you couldnât remember the way heâd treated you before?Â
Yelena took a deep breath. She offered you a small, tight smile, masking the anger bubbling beneath her skin.Â
She would confront Bucky eventually, but she would give him time to come clean on his own.Â
But she wouldnât let him rewrite the past just because you couldnât remember it.Â
Not when it was her best friend.
Not when it was you.
-to be continuedâŠ
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Bad Example
summary: abby sets a bad example for your little one
cw: mom!abby x mom!r, fast forward a couple months to fit what i wanted to write lol, mentions of sex, no smut, abby is being lazy and reader is bitchy hehe, abby slaps your butt. you two still love each other ok?!?!?!!?!?
"Whoa there, partner!" you say, quickly scooping up your little rascal of a daughter as she reaches for the bowl of chocolate chip pancake batter. She may be over 18 months old, but that hasnât stopped her from climbing to grab whatever you set on the counter. You set her back on the floor, revoking her breakfast-helper privileges, and she glares up at you, babbling out in protest.
"Hey, donât talk back to your mother missy!" Abbyâs voice booms as she enters the kitchen, startling both of you. You spin around, eyes meeting your beautiful wife. Her blonde hair, tousled from sleep and the quickie you snuck in before you were off to your wifey duties, falls perfectly over her shoulders, and her oversized crewneck just barely hides the shorts she wore to bed. Your stomach flutters, the desire to drag her back into your shared bedroom, but youâre interrupted by your little one grabbing at your pant leg, steadying herself between your knees. âYou say that, but where do you think she learns it from?â you mutter as you turn back to mixing the batter. You think Abby didnât hear, but she just scoffs, sorting through the mail you picked up earlier.
Usually, Abbyâs a big help, but lately, sheâs been testing your patience. Like earlier this week: she left her shoes right outside the shoe rack again. You tripped over them coming in with your daughter, nearly dropping her. When you yelled about it, all she did was laugh, reaching over to kiss your forehead âYou're so cute when you're mad,â you immediately wiped the kiss off. âIâm sorry,â she whispered, pressing a quick apology against your cheek before wrapping you and the baby girl in her arms. The little one giggled, but you just rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smack Abby.
Or like yesterday: Abby offered to put the baby down, but by 8:30 p.m., peeking into the nursery, there they were, Abby, blowing raspberries on your little oneâs belly, sending her into a fit of giggles. Adorable, yeah, but it was well past bedtime. "I donât know if I want to yell or kick you," you said, Abby froze like a kid caught in the cookie jar. Without another word, you scooped up your baby girl, wrapped her in her blanket, and headed out of the room. It wasn't a big deal, really, but it was the cherry on top of a frustrating day. Abby apologized later that night, swooning you with kisses and tangling you both in the sheets.
Even though you woke up to a nice surprise this morning. Abby's hand traveling down your pajama pants, her whispering in your ear, âLet me get a taste, yeah?â in that husky morning voice that makes you weak, you're still pissed at her
âUgh, they need to stop sending me this garbage,â Abby grumbles, tearing up a campaign flier and tossing it in the trash. The kitchen grows quiet as your little one now stands at your side, reaching her tiny hands up at you, whining to be held. Just as you turn around, you feel a sudden sting on your left butt cheek, a familiar smack. Abbyâs got a habit of this, so you try to ignore it, denying her the reaction sheâs after. But then you feel three little slaps on your thigh, just under your rear. You look down to see your little one mimicking Abbyâs antics, her sweet face looking up at you.
You let out a laugh of shock, looking up at Abby, whose mouth hangs open in a proud, slightly shocked grin. âWhat did I tell you, Abby?â you say, raising your voice as Abby breaks down laughing. Your little girl crawls over the blonde, picks her up, and joins in her laughter.
âYou think itâs funny, but now sheâs going to start slapping strangerâs asses,â you say, trying to keep a straight face but failing, biting back your smile. Abby stifles her laughter as she looks at your mischievous little one, who babbles a few âmamasâ in between giggles.
âNo, lovey, we donât hit Mama,â Abby says, wagging her finger playfully. Your daughter's face crumbles, her bottom lip jutted out in a pout as tears well up and spill down her chubby cheeks. Abby cradles her, muffled sobs in the crewneck of your wife as Abby silently laughs.Â
âBabe! Go put her down for her nap. And be a good mommy and apologize to her!â you say, rubbing the little one's back gently. Abby shakes her head, laughing to herself as she kisses your daughter's head, soothing her as they head off to the nursery. As Abby turns to walk away, you sneak a little squeeze on her butt, her glaring back at you playfully.
You turn back to the batter, giggling to yourself as you add a bit of water to smooth the mix, listening to Abby and your baby girlâs babbling conversation down the hall. Suddenly, there's a loud thump, followed by a frustrated âSHIT!â
âWhat happened?!â you call out, dropping the spoon and standing still, waiting for Abbyâs response.
âMy damn shoes!â she yells back, voice muffled as you hear her step into the nursery and closes the door behind her.
You smirk, shaking your head. That's what her ass gets.
a/n: all my ideas come when it's 4am and i cant go back to sleep but i dont want to look at my phone bc then i wont go back to sleep so i will just make these fake scenarios to help me sleep. LOL. should i make this a series? lmk <3
#tlou abby#abby x reader#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x reader fluff#abby anderson#abby anderson fanfic#tlou2 x reader#abby anderson tlou2#wlw writing
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All of me, loves all of you
Satoru x reader
Authors note: angst, comfort, happy ending. Satoru needs reassurance
The night had been particularly long for both of them. The familiar weight of exhaustion hung over their shared space, but it wasnât just the dayâs physical toll on their bodies. Something in the air felt differentâcharged with an emotion that neither of them had put into words. The dim light of the moon filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. The gentle hum of the city below was the only sound besides the quiet breathing of two people who had been through more than anyone should.
Satoru Gojo, however, was far from resting. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his mind far away from the warm embrace of sleep. He could hear the rhythmic breathing of Y/N beside him, the gentle rise and fall of her chest a soothing contrast to the turmoil inside him. It wasnât that he didnât love herâhe did, more than anything. But tonight, something was gnawing at him. It wasnât new; it had been lingering for some time, but it was heavier now, pressing against his chest like a weight he couldnât shake.
He turned his head, his eyes shifting to her as she slept soundly. The moonlight caught the soft curve of her face, the way her hair fanned out across the pillow, the steady rise and fall of her chest as she dreamed. She was so peaceful, so perfect, and for a moment, he couldnât help but stare.
His fingers twitched as he reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. His heart swelled at the sight of her, but also twisted in a way he couldnât quite explain. He was her protector, her partner, but sometimes, he couldnât shake the feeling that he wasnât enough for her. That maybe, despite everything, he couldnât give her the life she deserved.
âGojo?â Y/Nâs soft voice broke through the stillness, and he froze, his gaze shifting to her as she stirred, blinking sleepily at him.
âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to wake you,â he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though it didnât reach his eyes. âJust admiring you. You look so peaceful.â
Y/N frowned, her senses kicking in as she noticed the sadness in his eyes. She didnât speak right away, letting the moment linger as she studied his face. Something wasnât right. She could feel it.
âSatoru,â she whispered, sitting up and turning to face him. âWhatâs wrong?â
He sighed deeply, the weight of his emotions seeping into his tone. He wasnât good at this. Not at all. He had his walls, his own ways of coping with everything the world threw at him. But in that moment, with her soft eyes on him, he couldnât pretend anymore. âI just... I just feel like Iâm not enough for you sometimes. I want to be everything for you, Y/N, but it doesnât feel like I am. You deserve so much more than what I can give you.â
Her heart skipped a beat. The words he said were so quietly desperate, so vulnerable, that it sent a shockwave through her. He was the mighty Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcererâhow could he doubt himself, doubt what they had?
âDonât say that, baby,â she whispered, reaching out to gently cup his face in her hands. âYouâre more than enough for me.â
But he shook his head, pulling away slightly. âI donât want you to just settle for me, Y/N. I want to be the person you need. But sometimes I think I fail you.â
âStop,â she said, her voice a little more firm, her heart breaking at the sight of himâthis man who carried so much on his shoulders. âYou donât fail me. Never. Please donât think that way.â
He looked at her for a long moment before standing up, running a hand through his messy hair. âI need some air. I think itâll help clear my mind.â
Y/N sat there for a moment, watching him with concern, her heart pulling in her chest. She couldnât let him go like this. She couldnât let him suffer alone. Without saying a word, she stood up and followed him.
âI can come with you, right?â she asked, her voice tentative.
He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable, before nodding slowly. âYeah. You can.â
They walked to the balcony in silence, the cool night air greeting them as they stepped outside. The city stretched out below them, lights twinkling like a distant galaxy, but everything felt so quiet. So lonely.
Satoru leaned against the railing, his hands gripping it tightly. He looked out at the horizon, the flickering lights, but his mind was still far away. Y/N approached him slowly, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind, pressing her forehead gently against his back. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the weight of his thoughts, the heaviness that he carried.
âI love you, you know?â she whispered, her voice full of certainty. âI love you so much.â
Satoru let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into the railing as if to hold himself together. âDo you?â His voice was barely a whisper, tinged with doubt. âAre you sure? Because I... I love you more than anything. More than anything in the world.â
Her heart shattered at the question, at the raw vulnerability in his voice. It was as though he was asking for reassurance, something heâd never really done before.
She stepped around to face him, lifting her hands to gently cup his face, guiding him to look at her. His eyes were red-rimmed, the corners wet with unshed tears, and it took everything in her not to fall apart.
âI love you so, so much, Satoru,â she said, her voice steady, though her heart ached. âI love you with everything I have.â
He shook his head, his voice cracking. âBut what if Iâm not enough? What if youâre justâwhat if youâre just staying with me out of pity?â
âNo!â she gasped, pulling him closer, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly. âNo, baby, no. You are everything to me. Youâre not just enough. Youâre everything Iâve ever wanted and more. Donât you see that?â
Satoruâs hands trembled as they slid around her, holding her close. The tears that had been building up finally spilled over, his shoulders shaking with emotion. He buried his face in her hair, his voice muffled as he spoke. âIâm afraid youâll realize one day that you deserve someone better than me.â
Y/N held him tighter, her heart aching as she whispered into his ear. âSatoru... I love the fact that youâre kind. I love that youâre so sweet, even when the world doesnât deserve it. I love the way you try to protect everyone, even when it tears you apart. I love that what people donât know about you is that youâre so gentle. I love your heart, the way it cares so deeply. I love the way your eyes look when youâre completely vulnerable... the way you look right now. I love your body, your eyes, your hair, your smile. I love every part of you... even the parts you think are dirty and ugly. Every single part of you. You are enough, Satoru. You are everything.â
As soon as the words left her lips, Satoruâs whole body shook. He gasped as if he had been holding his breath the entire time, his heart racing wildly. His hands clutched at her even tighter, as though afraid she would slip away. His head dropped to her shoulder, tears soaking through her shirt as he let himself break in her arms.
âI donât deserve you,â he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. âI donât deserve any of this, but I want you... I want to be the man you deserve. Please donât leave me.â
Y/N cupped his face, pulling him back to look at her. âIâm not going anywhere, Satoru. Iâm here. Iâm not going to leave you.â
He stared into her eyes for a long moment before, in an almost instinctive motion, he pressed her hand against his chest, right over his heart. âThis is yours, Y/N. My heart... itâs yours. Iâve never been more sure of anything in my life. Youâre everything to me. Please never doubt that.â
She felt the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palm, and she smiled through her tears. It was like the weight of the world had lifted off of him, and somehow, it had lifted from her as well.
âI love you so much, Satoru,â she whispered again, her voice full of certainty.
He kissed her forehead softly, then her cheeks, tasting the salt of her tears, before finally pressing his lips to hers, slow and deep. She melted into him, her heart still racing, but this time it was from joy. From the overwhelming sense that they were finally, truly togetherâno walls, no doubts, no barriers.
They stood there for a long time, kissing, holding each other as if the world had faded away. And when they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The night was quiet again, but this time, it was filled with the unspoken promise of loveâof a love that was theirs, unbreakable and infinite.
Satoru pressed another kiss to the top of her head, tightening his arms around her
Tag list (let me know if you wanna go on it đ„č)
@canigotosleep--plz
@haruhatake
@hargun-s
@tibibibi123
@itsafairytalekay
@mistymuii
@moonchhu
#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#jjk fluff#gojo headcanons#jujitsu kaisen x reader#gojo angst#gojo satoru angst#satoru angst#satoru gojo angst#satoru headcanons#satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk gojo#jjk satoru#gojo satoru x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#satoru x y/n#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jujutsu satoru#satoru gojo headcanons#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojoxreader
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Hey, I donât blame you if you donât want to respond right now, but I just wanted to acknowledge that you were completely right to insist that people should have voted for the Democratic candidate if they didnât want Trump, regardless of if they completely agreed with the Democratic candidate or not. We wouldnât be in this situation if more people thought like you. And I hope more of the âboth sides are just as badâ people remember this for next time.
I appreciate the thought, and you're right that we need every vote, every time, all the time.
But that's not what swung this election. There was a big shift to the right among men, particularly low information voters. And exit polls show that the economy was the biggest driver of those votes. It was not the very small number of extremely online leftists who abstained from voting or voted third party who caused this. It was people who absorb Fox News uncritically and/or fail to understand that Trump was terrible for the economy and will be terrible again, that Biden pulled us out of a recession, that prices are high because of greedflation and not inflation.
And, you know, fascists. But mostly people who are so under-informed and actively dis-informed that they think Trump deporting thousands of people will magically make gas cheaper.
I don't know how to reach those people. Our media landscape is so fractured that they are literally living in a different reality than I am, where the things I see as so obvious and self-evident don't exist to them, or exist only as lies. A second Trump presidency with its inevitable rolling back of regulations about social media disinformation and equally inevitable threats to honest journalism is only going to make it harder.
But here's what I know:
We're going to remember to eat, and drink water, and sleep. We are going to hold our loved ones close.
Lock down your birth control. Get your vaccines. Know where your important paperwork is.
Read On Tyranny by Timothy Snyder. Read Hope in the Dark by Rebecca Solnit.
Check for misinformation and disinformation before you share something.
Posting online is not activism. Fighting online is not activism. Share resources, yes. Otherwise, block and move on, because...
Infighting didn't save us this time, and it will never save us. We are going to have to build coalitions. I'm going to get involved in my local progressive politics. I urge everyone who can to do the same. You are going to meet people who are not exactly like you, who disagree with you, who you don't like. If they believe in democracy and equal rights and justice for everyone? Then they are your allies in this fight and you need every single one of them.
America has never lived up to her ideals, but I still believe in them: that we are all created equal. If we never get there, it will still always be a fight worth fighting.
So let's fight.
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"Property" Aemond Targaryen
Aemond Targaryen x F!Stark!Reader
a/n: hello again! Y'all, ofc I'm getting back with more horny. Starting off with hotd but I have a fair share of filthy also for Avatar lovers. Dividers from lovely @cafekitsune
Summary: An arranged marriage or not, that man still belongs to you and you only.
Word count: 3,2k
Warnings: 18+, subby Aemond, hair pulling, 69, piv, handjob, no protection, breeding, bondage, impreg, dom Reader
You were the Lady of the North, younger sister of the formidable Cregan Stark. Your heart was as cold and unyielding as Winterfell itself, yet it seemed to beat a little bit differently whenever he was with others. It was beneath you to be jealous, especially of your arranged husband, whom you claimed to not care for. Prideful as you were, your pride seemed insignificant now as you watched the wench clinging to his arm. It wasn't the jealousy that gnawed at you, it was the disrespect he showed towards your marriage. Arranged or not, it was still a marriage.
The other ladies mingled with such ease, their charm and beautiful smiles flowing effortlessly. Why was it so difficult for you? You were his wife, yet you couldn't seem to catch his attention as they did. Sometimes, you wish you learned the art of charm instead of hunting⊠it would make everything so much easier.
Once his eye met yours you shook your head, feigning disinterest. Aemond smirked, clearly relishing the sight of you bothered by him receiving the attention of another lady. Was it the jealousy that fueled your glare, or did you truly despise him to look at him with such disdain? It didn't matter to Aemond. He knew that a wolf can be tamed, it just requires patience⊠and he had plenty of it. He had no interest in other ladies especially when they spoke of nonsense he did not wish to hear about, but seeing you like this? Looking as if you wanted to murder the lady and even him for looking at her? He could not resist teasing you a bit, enjoying the fire in your eyes. Aemond leaned a little closer to the lady, who seemed so joyful about the little gesture. You rolled your eyes, getting back to the castle. You wished to stay composed and something about Aemond chatting so nicely with others made your blood boil.
It was evening. The time when Aemond could finally relax if only a little. His perfectly straight hair had now taken on its natural curls, a look you secretly preferred, though you would never admit it. You watched him intently, as if there was something new to discover. He was sitting by the fire, absentmindedly playing with his fingers. You wondered what he was thinking about⊠his family? Your marriage? You didn't turn your gaze from him even for a second. You couldn't deny his attractiveness, biting your lip as you imagined all the things those slender fingers could do to you-
âPerhaps you are somewhat a predator. Always watching, no?â His voice broke the silence, pulling you out of your thoughts. Though he didn't turn to look at you, you felt the full weight of his attention on you. He was a mystery yet to be solved. You took a deliberate step closer, your eyes running all over his figure, almost appreciatively. He was truly like prey to you, and it was up to you what you were going to do with him. You took a step towards him, wondering if you should sit on the armchair beside him or remain standing. Standing was putting you in the dominant position, sitting offered some kind of intimacy⊠You crossed your arms on your chest.
âIf you know I'm watching it means you are observing too,â you remarked, not failing to notice the slight crack in his smile. Aemond didn't expect his wife to be so perceptive. The realization seemed to amuse him. You licked your lips, carefully considering your next move. The room was filled with unspoken tension, a silent battle of wills.
âOne would want to know what his wife is up to, don't you think?â A hint of challenge in his tone. You would gladly take one. You moved closer, stopping right in front of him. He was much taller than you, but now that he was sitting he was the one who needed to look up. His eye took in your face even though he knew it like the back of his hand. You were always hidden in Winterfell, he needed to admit: his mother made a great choice to betroth him to you. Such a hidden gem⊠who would have thought? Aemond never seemed so fascinated by a lady until now.
You leaned in slightly, your presence commanding his full attention, and he was gladly giving it to you. Your fingers traced a light path down his hair. So soft and silky⊠you always wondered how it would feel beneath your fingers. You tugged on it, unable to stop yourself. Aemond tensed, not respecting such boldness from you. His reaction only fueled your confidence. You moved even closer, your breath warm against his neck. You didn't know why you were getting close⊠you felt the need to claim and the prey was right there, ready to be devoured. You sat on his lap comfortably, your fingers trailing to his collar⊠your touch was light but deliberate. His eye followed your every movement, a mix of curiosity and desire in his gaze. You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his sensitive neck. Aemond began to breathe heavily; he felt like if you didn't stop, he was going to rip your clothes apart and take you right there on the floor like a teasing slut that you are.
âWhat do you want?â His voice husky. Aemond felt that if you asked him nicely, he would do anything for you. You were dangerous, perhaps he underestimated you and your power. You pretended to think about it, even though you knew damn well what you needed from him.
âI want you to take your clothes off,â you stood up. His jaw clenched as your touch left him abruptly. Aemond hated being submissive, but somehow deep inside of him made him remove his tunic. You watched with fascination almost. âThe eyepatch too. I want you to be truly naked.â You had him concerned, your prey⊠maybe the hunting skills are useful here after all. He stood naked as you admired him in his full glory. It seemed like all the training paid off. You couldn't help but think of what you wanted to do to him⊠you wanted to own the Targaryen Prince. You wanted him to be completely and utterly yours. You grabbed a few of your ropes which were hidden beneath the bed. Aemond raised his eyebrow, as if questioning you..
âDo you want me to tie you up, Zokli?â Aemond could already imagine you squirming underneath him as he pounds into you without any breaks, he would have you screaming.
âThat little wolf is going to tie YOU up, dragon.â Aemond didn't even have a chance to protest. You pushed him back on the bed, your hands working swiftly on the knots. After you restricted his movement, you tied him up to the bed; he was completely at your mercy⊠It was new to Aemond, but he found himself finding it exciting. His cock rock hard, begging for attention.
âAren't you going to undress too?â He wanted to see his little wolf naked. He wanted to admire your boobs and that gorgeous ass. You smirked, sitting on the bed beside him. Painfully close, yet not touching him. Aemond was frustrated, any woman would have been pleasuring him by now or begging for him to take her⊠but not you.
âBold of you to assume you deserve to see it, my lord husband,â your fingers moved up his thigh. Before, you wouldn't expect that you would get the Targaryen prince in such a position. You found yourself enjoying it more than you should. You paused right before your hand could touch his cock, Aemond groaned, clearly displeased with your teasing.
âDo you see how hard I am for you, Zokli?â Aemond wanted to boost your ego, he just needed you to touch him. It felt like his balls were going to explode. How could he allow you to trap him like this? Maybe you were a witch, that would explain everythingâŠ
âTell me,â your fingers trail around the length of his cock. You wanted it inside of you so bad, but you couldn't just let him have it all right away. Aemond looked into your eyes, curious of what you wanted to hear from him. He would do anything to feel more of you, no matter how much he despised himself for it. You spit on your hand to smear it all over his cock a while later. You began to stroke slowly, not breaking eye contact. Aemond grunts as your touch sends waves of pleasure through his body. âTell me how much better I am than them. Tell me they don't get you as hard as I do,â maybe you were outing yourself by asking for it, but you needed to hear it. You needed to know your lord husband treasures you the most. You wanted him obsessed, unable to look away from you. Aemond did want to tease you for your jealousy but he answered before his brain could register it.
âThey will never be as interesting as you. In a room full of women I see only you. It matters not if my gaze is on them, in my head there's only you. The best fucking thing is you don't seem to notice how tempting you are. If I look at you for too long I'm already leaking precum, princessâ he will hate himself after for it, but right now his judgment was clouded by pleasure. His pride didn't matter, none of it mattered. Only the feeling of your hand moving up and down his cock. âDon't stop,â it was a demand, it was supposed to be a demand but it came out more like a plea. Aemond could feel himself getting closer. He didn't settle for ladies of a brothel or the court, so his balls were full. You paused, savoring the moment, the power you held over him. Aemond clenched his jaw as you ruined his orgasm. You giggled innocently, getting rid of your gown. Aemond admired your body, he wished he could suck on those breasts. You were perfect.
âNow now, I deserve some pleasure too, don't you think? You can't move, I knowâ you straddled his face, your dripping wet pussy hovering over his face. You leaned down forward, to get the access to his cock, settling nicely in sixty-nine position.
âSit on my face, stop fucking playing,â he growled, eager to get a taste of you. If he wasn't tied up he would pull you down and eat you out until tomorrow, but you have to be fucking clever. You offered him a few playful kisses on the tip before sucking on the head of his cock, your hands grasping his balls, massaging them. You were gradually taking him deeper, sucking eagerly as your hands played with his balls. Aemond's eye surrounded as a moan left his lips. You lowered yourself on his face, knowing that he's close but he didn't complain, licking all over your wet folds before pushing his tongue inside of you. He was sloppy with eating you out, humming and moaning both from the way you sucked his cock and how you tasted. You kept going, moaning around his cock, moving your hips to get more of his tongue. You were getting close and so was he⊠when you felt him tense you straightened your back, getting away from his cock. Aemond groaned against your cunt, but didn't stop his ministrations. You were cruel, but maybe he did deserve it for teasing you for days. You pulled on his curls as the pleasure began to build up, unable to control yourself. You needed to hold onto something and his hair was perfect for it. You closed your eyes, desperately pulling on his hair and moving your hips. With every pull his cock twitched, Aemond felt like he was going to cum untouched. You pulled once more as the orgasm washed over you, your thighs shaking. Aemond eagerly devoured your sweet juices, licking you clean. You closed your eyes, taking a moment to catch your breath. You sat beside him, fingers running down his abs.
âYou are going to pay for this,â he threatened, even though it sounded rather pathetic now. You straddled him lazily, grinding against his cock. He was painfully hard and you found yourself enjoying driving him crazy in such a way.
âNow now, be nice or you won't get to fuck my pussy, my lord husbandâ you grinned, grinding against him. You wanted it as much as he did, but you had to punish him for getting too friendly with those wenches, no? He deserved to be treated like this, he deserved to be forced into submission.
âStop teasing,â he groaned, clearly frustrated. Aemond needed to cum, he needed to feel your pussy, he needed to fuck you. No matter how hard he struggled against the ropes they wouldn't give in. You smiled innocently, looking at him as if you had no idea of what he was talking about. It turned into an evil smirk real quick. Your fingers playing with his hair.
âBeg me. Beg me to ride you, Aemond. I want you to beg and convince me that you are only mine,â you tugged on his hair, as if urging him to do as you wished. Aemond closed his eye, frustrated with you. He was torn between obeying and telling you off. How dare you? Asking a Prince to beg for a fuck? There were many eager for him, yet he chose to chase after you. His cock was aching and he wasn't thinking clearly, he needed to be inside of you. To beg was to show weakness, and it wasn't something he could afford. Yet, you held more power over him than he would like to admit.
âI don't beg,â he said sharply, trying to detach himself from the situation. He couldn't allow you to dominate him, not like this. Aemond never begged in his life and he didn't wish to change it. Aemond acted as he wasn't the pathetic one, all tied up, just waiting for your mercy.
âPrideful as ever, Aemond. But pride won't get you what you desire,â you grind against him, as to remind him what he can get if he begs. Aemond wanted to strangle you right there, how could you play with him like this? If he allows this⊠what else will he allow? You were dangerous.
âLaughing now⊠you won't be laughing once the ropes are off,â a predatory gleam in his eye. Aemond was too deep in this. He needed you, right here right now. Aemond took a deep breath, cursing himself. âYou want me to beg?â His voice dropping to a whisper. You watched him intently, noticing how hard it is for him. âPlease, Zokli. I need you more than anything else. I would set the Realm on the fire if you asked me to. Your every wish shall be my command. The gods knew what they were doing, intertwining the fate of a dragon and a wolf. Ride this cock until youâre sick of it, it's completely yours. I will rip my heart out of my chest if you only asked me to. Please,â he was desperate. He wasn't sure if he wanted you to believe him only for sex or if there was something deeper in it. You bit your lip, wondering if you should make him suffer more, but decided against it. You sank down onto his cock, savoring the way in which it was stretching you out. A small gasp left Aemond's lips as your velvety walls surrounded his cock. You began to move slowly, letting yourself adjust to his size. Aemond forced himself to keep his eye open, watching how your body moved on top of him. He was never on the bottom, but it was fucking hot to see you like this.
âSuch a charmer you are,â you began to bounce on his thick cock faster, driving both of you crazy. You tugged on his hair, relishing in the way his cock twitched every single time. His cock was filling you up perfectly, leaving no room for anything else.
âRide that cock, you slut. You were jealous? Show me that it's yours,â he urged, grunting with every bounce of yours. He was already close, but he held himself back for now. Aemond didn't want to cum before you. With your other hand, you began to tease your clit. âFuck, youâre clenching when you do that,â Aemond hissed, trying to hold back the lewd sounds from coming out of his mouth. But every time you pulled on his curly hair he would moan like a slut. The pleasure began to build in your stomach, so you increased the pace. You were sure you would break the bed that way, but you didn't care. All that mattered was that cock inside of you.
âI was jealous,â you admit, caring not if he was going to tease you about it later. Aemond is your husband and you will be damned before anyone else gets him. âBut I found a perfect solution. What a better way of showing how good our marriage is than a babe? They all will know you fuck me⊠and the ladies will back off because youâre pain. My property, my prey, my lord husband. Mine,â you were feral, but it was all because of him. Aemond was driving you crazy this whole time. He smirked upon hearing your words.
âWell, get yourself pregnant, Zolki. A whole litter of pups,â he sucked on your breasts. You tilted your head back, moaning loudly as he sucked on it hungrily, marking all over your chest. Every once in a while you would pull on his hair, so he doesn't forget who's truly in control⊠but Aemond loved it. No one could touch his hair, no one but you. âTake my seed, all of it. Carry it in your womb proudly, like a trophy. Show them who is the wife of Aemond Targaryen,â he interrupted himself just to encourage you, groaning as your pussy clenched around his dick. Aemond moved a bit, beginning to thrust up into you from underneath. Your eyes rolled back as you rubbed circles against your clit.
âPlease, cum in me. Cum in me, Aemond. Show me that you are mine and fill up my womb with your seed. Do it,â you begged-demanded, riding him, desperately chasing your orgasm. Aemond bit your nipple gently, thrusting up into you rough. You screamed as your walls tightened around him and you came undone, pulling his hair hard. Aemond filled you up to the brim with his nice potent warm seed. You laid your head against his chest, exhausted. You were satisfied, it was the best orgasm you have ever had⊠He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, not attempting to pull out of you. Aemond closed his eye, trying to catch up his breath. No one has made him feel like this before. He didn't care about pride, all he wished to do was pleasing you: as a sub or as a dom, it mattered not because no matter what he is your property.
#aemond fic#aemond one eye#aemond x reader#hotd aemond#aemond fanfiction#aemond x you#prince aemond#aemond targaryen#aemond x y/n#aemond#aemond smut#hotd smut#house of the dragon#el fic
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Comfort
Pairing: Bucky x F!reader
Warnings: Light mention of politics, fluff
Length: 494
Summary: Bucky comforts you during your time in need.
A/N: Normally Iâm not one to be overly vocal about my beliefs, but after the shit show that was the election, I canât not be. If you know me, I believe that everyone deserves rights, no matter who they are, how they identify, who they love, etc. The type of hate that we see now is only going to increase and I cannot stand by and not say anything. My page will always be a safe space for everyone, no matter what. I wrote this partially to comfort myself, but now I am posting it for everyone else who also needs this. To my friends who are going to be affected by this, I am so sorry that this country has failed you. I am sorry that your rights will be affected by this. I am sorry that people carry this immense amount of hate and donât know how to mind their own business. Know this; My page will be a safe space for you to be yourself, even in this horrible time. You have someone in your corner who will not judge you and cares for your overall well being. We may not know each other, but I support you.
This is not proofread, I just wanted to put this out.
I do not consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!
You lay in your bed, thinking about life. Itâs a tough pill to swallow. There are no words to describe the devastation you feel for your friends and family. You continue to stare up at the ceiling, thinking about how much you wished Bucky was home.
Bucky had left a few days prior on a mission. While it shouldnât be much longer, you still wished he was home. You wished that you could lay in his arms and cry while he held you, telling you that he would do everything in his power to try to help you.
You are so lost in thought, you donât hear the front door to your apartment open.Â
Bucky quietly opens the door, hoping to not disturb you. He gently locks the door and takes off his boots, leaving them by the front door. Alpine is the first to greet him, rubbing against his leg.Â
Bucky picks her up to pet her, giving her a gentle kiss on the top of her head. âHey girl, is she still in bed?â
Alpine purrs to say yes and rubs herself on Buckyâs chest. Bucky frowns slightly but he knew you would be like this. He walks to your shared bedroom, knocking on the door.
âDoll?â He asks tentatively.
Your heart jumps before you turn your head. âHey, Buck.â You whisper with a small smile and tears in your eyes.
Bucky gently puts Alpine on the bed and cuddles up right next to you. âIâm so sorry, Doll.â
You only nod your head and turn your body to be engulfed by him, wrapping your leg around his waist. âYou just being here is helping.â
Bucky doesnât say anything, only rubbing your back and kissing your temple as you cry in his arms. If there was anything he could do, he would do it. But thatâs not possible and he wants to destroy everything because of it.
âI got you, Doll. You can cry, scream, punch, do whatever you need to do.â
You shake your head. âI just need to be with you.â
Bucky nods. âThen we can lay here and waste the day away. Have you eaten?â
You shake your head once more. âNo.â
Bucky frowns slightly. âDoll, you need to eat. Itâs almost 3 pm.â Alpine meows in agreement.
âI know, I just couldnât pull myself out of bed.â You reach for Alpine and she lays between you and Bucky, purring at her favorite humans.
âOk, well do you want to order food?â
You shake your head and scrunch your face. âI feel like if I eat, Iâm going to throw up.â
Bucky looks you in the eyes. âBaby, I know. But you have to eat. How about I make you some toast? Itâll fuel you and isnât super heavy.â
You nod. âYeah, ok.â
Bucky kisses your forehead. âI know Doll, but weâll get through this. I will do everything in my power to make sure that youâll be ok.â
#avengers#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x reader fluff
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My tears, oh my tears, I just read your Lilia ficđđđđI don't think I'll be able to get through my day well. I really need a happy ending for him with herđ€§đ€§đ€§
HI ANON! Thank you for your request â€! I had to think pretty hard for an idea and I settled on this I hope it's satisfactory! I'm not very good at writing fluff and happy endings so I tried my best:p
Lilia Vonrogue x Reader
â„ part two (part 1: here)
Content warning: none
fem reader
Lilia had spent countless years as a hardened warrior, fighting on the front lines and keeping his heart guarded from attachment or sentimentality. But when she died in his arms, all his strength and resilience seemed to dissolve. Now, he was left with only her memoryâand the child sheâd entrusted to him, Silver. Raising Silver should have been a way to honor her, but each day felt like a reminder of his failure to protect her. Despite this, he kept her memory close, never sharing the truth with anyone else.
When heâd returned to Briar Valley, he had simply told others heâd found the boy abandoned. He didnât want their sympathy, their prying questions, or their pity. She was his secret, a part of his soul he guarded as fiercely as any territory heâd once protected in battle.
Though he loved Silver fiercely, Lilia struggled to raise him properly. Silver was human, fragile and dependent in a way that bewildered him. Malleus, though eager to help, was just as lost. He was unused to anything so delicate, and his fascination with Silverâs human traits sometimes did more harm than good.
âI do not understand, Lilia,â Malleus said once as they watched Silver wail at the unfamiliar taste of solid food. âWhy does he reject this nourishment? Fae children devour their first meals.â
Lilia only chuckled, masking his own frustration. âHuman babies donât always eat everything, Malleus. Theyâre⊠unpredictable.â
But when he was alone, Lilia was less assured. How could he teach a child when his own life had been war and solitude? He often tried to remember the warmth of her smile as she held Silver, the way sheâd cradled him with a patience and gentleness he could never seem to match. Heâd even picked up books on human parenting, flipping through pages with an intensity usually reserved for military strategies. Yet, with every attempt to follow the words, he felt her absence even more sharply, the emptiness of her laughter lingering in the silence of their small home.
Silver was growing quickly, and with him, Liliaâs feelings shifted. At times, Silverâs big eyes, so much like hers, would look up at him with a trust that made Liliaâs heart ache. But he was also reminded of his failings. How could he raise this child with warmth when he had none left to give? He was a warrior, not a father. And yet⊠he couldnât let her down. Each time he saw Silver sleep, curled up and peaceful, heâd lean against the doorway and watch, feeling something unfamiliar and gentle soften his battle-worn heart.
â§âË âïžâ
âĄđ àŁȘ ÖŽÖ¶ÖžâŸ.     Years Later
As he grew older, Silver began to notice things that didnât quite fit the stories his father told him. Lilia had always said he found Silver, abandoned and alone, and that heâd taken him in. But there were gaps in the story, inconsistencies that left Silver questioning his past.
Sometimes, late at night, Silver would wake to find his father sitting by the fire, staring into the flames with a distant, sorrowful expression Silver had rarely seen. And sometimes, Lilia would hold a small trinketâa ribbon, or a faded piece of clothâthat he quickly hid whenever Silver approached.
âFather,â Silver asked once, âwere you alone when you found me?â
Liliaâs gaze shifted, and he masked his expression with a wry smile. âYou were all I found that day, Silver. Just a bundle of trouble waiting to happen.â
But Silver couldnât shake the feeling that there was more to it. Over time, he learned not to ask too many questions, knowing they would only be deflected. Yet, the mysteries lingered, especially in the moments when he saw a softness in Lilia that he couldnât quite understandâa gentleness that seemed to speak of someone else.
One night, Silver dozed off after a long day of training, only to find himself drifting into a dream unlike any heâd ever had before. It felt unusually vivid, he realized he were stepping into someone elseâs memories rather than his own. He was in a dimly lit forest clearing, and through a haze of recollection, he saw his father, but not as he knew him. This version of Lilia seemed slightly younger, sterner, his gaze sharper and full of fire. And beside him was a woman Silver had never seen before.
She was human, with soft, gentle eyes, and the way she looked at his father was unlike anything Silver had ever witnessed. In one scene, she was gently binding a wound on Liliaâs arm, her hands steady and careful. Lilia was grumbling, clearly unused to being cared for in such a way, but there was a tenderness in his eyes, a look Silver had never seen directed at anyone before.
The memory shifted, and now she was holding a small childâan infant Silver realized with a start was himself. She whispered to the baby in her arms, her words too soft for him to hear, but the expression of love on her face was unmistakable. And when Lilia glanced at her, it was with a mix of admiration, something deeper and unspoken lingering in his gaze.
Silver stirred, feeling an ache in his chest he couldnât explain. Who was this woman, and why had his father never mentioned her? The dream faded, but the questions remained, and the next morning, he couldnât hold back any longer.
âFather,â he began hesitantly, watching Liliaâs face, âI had a dream last night⊠or maybe a memory. There was a woman with you. She looked⊠kind.â
Lilia stiffened, his usual mirth fading as he met Silverâs gaze. For a moment, he was silent, his eyes betraying a depth of pain Silver had never seen before.
âShe wasâŠâ Liliaâs voice was barely a whisper. âSomeone I lost long ago.â
Silver remained quiet, sensing the weight of the memory and the love his father had hidden all these years. Though Lilia didnât offer any more details, Silver understood that this womanâhis motherâhad been someone truly special.Â
Silver felt a quiet desperation gnawing at him. Now that he had glimpsed a fragment of herâa woman he felt connected to yet hardly knewâa hollow ache settled in his chest. His father had always kept his sorrow hidden, masking any sign of grief with his usual humor and lightheartedness. But after seeing her, Silver couldnât ignore the emptiness left by her absence, and he couldnât accept that this was the end of their story.
The longing grew sharper with each day, his mind drifting back to the mystery of herâa mother he barely remembered, a bond he could only dream of. How could he let things end like this? To never have truly known her felt wrong. Still, he was just a human, and what power did he have over something as final as death?
But the thought wouldnât let him rest. He was not as helpless as he felt. He was strong, he knew magic, and he was connected to some of the most powerful beings in Twisted Wonderland. Surely there was a wayâsome forbidden knowledge, some hidden path he hadnât yet considered.
And then he remembered the rumors, whispers of a witch who resided far beyond Briar Valley, somewhere between worlds, where human souls and fae magic brushed against each other. A powerful sorceress who understood the mysteries of life and death and could speak to the spirits themselves.
The path to this witch wouldnât be easy, but Silver knew he couldnât turn back now. This was something he had to doânot just for himself, but for the one who had given everything for him, the one he knew his father had loved in a way he had never spoken of.
Silver set out quietly, keeping his journey a secret from his father, Sebek and Malleus. He ventured through dense forests and past enchanted lakes, traveling farther than he ever had before. His heart remained steadfast, though fear began to settle in as he neared his destination.
Finally, after days of travel, he reached the borderlands between the human world and the realm of the seaâa place where twilight lingered, where ancient stones rose from the mist, and the air was thick with enchantment. In the shadows of the rocks, he caught sight of her: the witch he had heard of. She was cloaked in dark robes, her figure partially obscured, but her gaze was piercing, as though she had been expecting him.
âYou seek to bring back a lost soul,â she said before Silver even spoke. Her voice was calm but held a warning, laced with an unsettling wisdom. âA dangerous wish, young one. Life and death are not to be tampered with lightly.â
Silverâs resolve held firm. âI know itâs dangerous, but⊠she was taken from us too soon. I just want the chance to know her, even if itâs only once.â
The witch regarded him in silence, her expression unreadable. âTo bring back a soul from beyond⊠it requires a great sacrifice,â she finally said. âNot in gold, not in power, but in spirit. To restore what was lost, you must be willing to give something of equal weight in return.â
âWhat do you mean?â Silver asked, feeling a shiver of uncertainty.
She gave him a steady look. âIt will cost you a piece of yourself. Memories, perhaps, or a fragment of your own life force. To give life, something must be taken. And even then, it may not work as you hope. The dead do not always return as they were.â
Silverâs heart raced, but he nodded, his determination unwavering. âIâll do whatever it takes.â
The witch watched him, assessing his resolve before finally nodding. She led him to a clearing at the edge of the shore, where she instructed him to gather rare herbs and light a circle of candles in the shape of the full moon.
Silver could feel the energy drain from him as the witch chanted in the language of old, his very life force spilling into the circle they had created. He closed his eyes, focusing on his motherâs face, the brief glimpses he had seen in his dreamsâthe gentle smile, the warmth that lingered even in a memory. He barely noticed as the witchâs voice faded, the mist thickening in front of him until it nearly obscured the world.
When he opened his eyes, she was there.
She stood just beyond the edge of the mist, her form wrapped in simple robes of soft, muted colors, somewhere between the shades of twilight and dawn. Her hair, flowing, caught the light in a gentle, silvery sheen. Silverâs heart stilled, his breath caught in his throat as he took in her familiar featuresâthe softness of her gaze, the contours of her face that mirrored his own.
For a moment, she looked around in confusion, her brow furrowing as her gaze settled on him, lingering with a glimmer of recognition that hadnât fully settled. She studied his face, her eyes taking in every feature as if piecing together a puzzle from fragments of memory.
Silverâs lips parted, and the word slipped out like a breath. âMotherâŠâ
Her eyes widened, the dawning realization flooding her expression, and then, as if nothing else in the world mattered, she moved toward him. At first, a tentative step, and then, as recognition and emotion surged within her, she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him with a force that belied her slight frame. Silverâs arms moved instinctively to hold her, his heart pounding as he felt the solid warmth of her, the reality of her presence.
They held each other for a long moment, both too overwhelmed to speak, both still trembling with the fragile wonder of what had just happened. She pulled back slightly, gazing up at him, her eyes studying every line and shadow on his face. She let out a soft, incredulous laugh, a sound both joyful and tearful.
âSilverâŠâ she whispered, her voice filled with wonder. âYou⊠youâve grown so much. Youâre so big now.â
Silver managed a shaky smile, barely able to contain the overwhelming surge of emotions. âI⊠I never thought Iâd see youâŠâ
Her hand reached up, brushing his cheek, her fingers lingering as though she was still trying to assure herself he was real. âI donât understand how⊠or why⊠but I felt something calling me back, a longing I couldnât ignore.â Her voice faltered, softening. âI thought Iâd lost you both forever.â
Silver shook his head, his own hand moving to cover hers. âNo. I had to bring you back. I had to know youâjust once.â His voice broke slightly, but he didnât care; he needed her to know the depth of his longing, the years he had wondered about her.
They shared another silent moment, just taking in the wonder of being reunited before Silver finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. âThereâs someone who needs to see you⊠someone whoâs missed you even more than I have.â
Her gaze brightened, and she nodded, a glimmer of emotion flickering in her eyes as she realized who he meant. âTake me to him.â
When they returned to Briar Valley, Silver led her to the castle, his heart racing with anticipation and awe. Lilia was there, his usually cheerful expression softening as he spotted Silver at the entrance. But when his gaze landed on the figure beside him, he froze.
For a heartbeat, Lilia seemed unable to comprehend what he was seeing. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly open as he took in the sight of her, standing beside Silver, alive, her eyes shining as she met his gaze.
âLiliaâŠâ she whispered, her voice breaking as tears pooled in her eyes.
Lilia took a hesitant step forward, his composure slipping away, replaced by an expression Silver had never seen beforeâa vulnerability, a disbelief, and a raw, overwhelming joy. âHowâŠ?â he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Unable to hold back any longer, she moved toward him, her steps quickening until she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as if he might vanish. Liliaâs arms encircled her, holding her tightly, and a tear slipped down his cheek as he buried his face in her shoulder.
They stayed like that, the two of them locked in an embrace, their reunion marked by silent tears and whispered words of comfort and disbelief. Silver watched, a warmth filling his chest, his heart swelling with quiet happiness as he witnessed the reunion he had always longed for.
When they finally pulled back, Lilia placed a gentle hand on her face, brushing away a tear. âI thought Iâd lost you forever,â he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes softened with a depth of love that Silver had never seen before.
She placed her hand over his. âYou never lost me. I was always there⊠watching over you both.â
Lilia looked toward Silver, his gaze filled with gratitude and something elseâa newfound pride, a warmth that he struggled to put into words.
â§âË âïžâ
âĄđ àŁȘ ÖŽÖ¶ÖžâŸ. BONUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Silver led his mother, Y/N, through the stone corridors of the castle. She held herself with quiet grace, her steps soft, but she was clearly a bit nervous. As they approached the courtyard, Malleus and Sebek stood waiting, expressions guarded yet curious.
âMother,â Silver began, a touch of pride in his voice, âthese are my friends: Malleus Draconia and Sebek Zigvolt.â
Y/N gave a small, respectful nod, her gaze briefly meeting theirs before she glanced aside shyly. âItâs⊠nice to meet you both. Iâve heard a little of you on the way here.â
Malleus tilted his head, regarding her with a steady, thoughtful gaze. âItâs a pleasure to meet you as well.â
âWait,â Sebek interjected, brows drawing together in confusion, âSilver, you⊠have a mother? Thatâs not the story Master Lilia told usâŠâ His voice was skeptical, yet respectful.
Silver shifted slightly. âI uhâŠ. Well, itâs complicatedâŠâ
Just then, Lilia approached, hands behind his back, giving the scene an amused glance before his gaze softened on Y/N. She caught his eye, a bit of warmth there, even if neither spoke right away.
âLilia,â Malleus finally ventured, âperhaps you could enlighten us?â
Lilia gave a faint smirk, his tone dry. âOh, I do seem to have forgotten a few details, havenât I?â His eyes flicked to Y/N with a hint of warmth. âShe has a habit of showing up when you least expect it.â
Y/N chuckled softly, glancing at Lilia. âSome things havenât changed.â
Sebek was still gaping, while Malleus studied the quiet exchange between Y/N and Lilia with a thoughtful look. Lilia only shrugged, his voice nonchalant but his gaze carrying a deeper feeling as he said, âEvery family has a few secrets, after all.â
Bonus 2: Y/n: Oh⊠You cut your hair. Lilia: Yes, I did⊠Did you like it longer? Iâll grow it out. Y/n: W-what? Itâs okay! I love it now too. Itâs cute. Lilia: I love you tooâoh, I mean I love it too, yes.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#lilia x reader#general lilia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge#twst lilia#lilia#malleus draconia#malleus#silver#silver twst#sebek#sebek zigvolt
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"Yes, we are required to find and prepare our own sticks for our switchings. Long, thick, and springy."
"Do you resent your husbands for thrashing you?"
"Husband?" She giggled her eyes sparkling joyfully. "No, Tenantom, is very loving.."
"Yes, the hard punishments are from the other men." Her female companion agree.
"Other men? What other man thrash you?" Their interview pried.
"The other men in the family have authority to send us to get switches as well." The wife rattled off happily sharing. "Rechino, my father in law switches me till I blead."
"How are these pumishments given?"
"Harshly." The wife answered smiling at her joke.
"After we cut and prepare our switches, we present ourselves with the switches and apologize for our failings, then they order us to bare our bottoms, and bend over." Female companion rehearsed. "Then we are thrashed. After being thrashed, we are made to kiss their switch to thank them for punishing us."
"Bare? They have you bare your bottom in front of them?"
"Yes, the switching has to be on the bare backside." The female companion replied.
"It depends though, it depends on why we are being punished. When we have brought shame to the family, we are made to ... to be nude during our punishments, with our husbands it is nearly always without clothes, because.... because they order us to." The wife admitted.
"Isn't that embarassing?" Thier interviewer demanded. "Aren't you repulsed by that?"
"If we don't like it we have to be respectful and obedient." The wife defended.
"She likes her husband doing it to her." The female companion teased the wife. "Very sexy."
"But to have a family member bare you and spank your bottom!" The interviewer gasped.
"Sometimes by other important men. My boss is very strict." The female companion pointed out. "Even last week, my boss spanked me. Couldn't sit down."
"He had you bare your bottom for him and then he switched you?" Her interviewer quized.
"Yes." The female companion endorsed.
"Your boss spanked your bare bottom? That is sexual adbuse!" Her interviewer protested.
"She is being shy." The wife put her hand over her mouth. "She embarassed him in front of a customer. A lot more revealed then her backside for her punishment." She whooped in a teasing way at her friend.
"Is that true?" The interviewer asked in surprise.
"I didn't mean to. Anyways I was spanked and it is done now." The female companion explained.
"But that is sexual adbuse!" The interviewer cried.
"No, he didnt touch me." The female companion rejected with disgust.
"But he stripped you nude!" The interviewer gasped.
"Well, maybe. He is very strict. I need to learn to be respectful. He is an important man." She proudly avoided the question.
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Hawkins Confidential Part 1 of ?
Read on AO3
Steddie; other minor pairings; omegaverse; 1990s
Richard Harrington is dead and finally, as Steve's husband, Tommy is set to inherit quite a lot. Unfortunately for him, there is a condition in the will and that means Steve has to contact the true sire of his pup, Eddie. aka here's that soap opera au i've been wanting to do >:3c
The organ droned as people walked up solemnly and gave their respects.The air was stale except for the few who went without scent blockers, children mostly. And not everyone in high society thought it was prudent to hide their scent. Steve was one of them.
âEveryone can smell your griefâ, his mother whispered as she leaned over.Â
âIâm grieving. Itâs a funeralâ, Steve whispered back.
âI know you didnât care for your father that much. Itâs perfectly natural to care about your child but Dustin still has breath in his lungs, thank God. Your father deserves to at least have your respect in death.â She whipped her fan open and fanned herself and Steve knew that was the end of that conversation.
When the procession moved to the grave plot, Steve walked with his mother on one side and his husband Tommy on the other. Tommy had his arm around Steveâs shoulder. A show of solidarity. His father was laid to rest and Steve had a sliver of hope that the leash around his neck would finally loosen.
âItâs our time now, Stevieâ, Tommy murmured in his ear.
And Steve knew what that meant. The three of them, his mother, Tommy, and he went to meet with the executor of his fatherâs will. There wasnât anything in it that surprised Steve. His mother got what she expected and so did Steve.Â
âAnd to my son-in-law Thomas, who has graciously taken the Harrington name, per our agreement, I leave the entirety of my shares of Harrington Industries, along with my land ownings and the houses in California and Virginia. All this is yours, provided you have had a healthy heir with my son Steven.â
Tommy smirked. Smug and just barely holding back from whooping with glee. He was not wearing blockers so everyone in the room could smell it.
âWell, thatâs that, isnât it?â, Tommy said. âWhere do I sign?â
âNot so fast, Mr. Harringtonâ, the executor held up a withered hand. âRichard Harrington specified a healthy heir. And as I understand, your son is in the hospital?â
Tommyâs smirk fell. âYeah. But what of it? Heâs gonna make a recovery!â
âAnd when he does, we may sign away. But until such a timeâŠâ, the old man trailed off to let Tommy fill in the blanks.
Steve didnât want to think about his pup not getting better. If he lost his Dustin-
âWhat happens if they donât have an heir?â, his mother asked.
âShould that happen, madam, your husband has outlined instructions that I am to keep concealed until it is certain that these two have failed their condition.â
Tommy grumbled all the way out of the office. They were on their way to the hospital. Steve visited everyday, but now he was sure Tommyâs coming along was just to see if Dustinâs health had improved. Steve smiled and nodded to the nurses he saw regularly. It felt almost like bad luck to see his pup when he was still wearing black from the funeral. But he had wanted to see him right away.
Steve could look at Dustin, pale and limp in the bed and knew he wasnât getting any better. Tommy discussed at length with the doctor outside anyway. Steve could hear his husband getting more and more agitated even behind the closed door. He chose to ignore it for now, grabbing Dustinâs hand and rubbing his knuckles.
âWe said goodbye to grandpa today. Everyone came out to see him, even Aunt Seline and you know how she is.â
Of course, the unconscious boy wasnât responsive. His chest moved up and down slowly. But that was it. Steve sniffed back tears and scent both Dustin and the little stuffed giraffe he kept under his pillow that he thought no one knew about. Steve put it back under the pillow right when Tommy opened the door and crooked his finger for Steve to come out into the hallway.
Steve obeyed with a sigh and walked out, closing the door just in time for Tommy to start raising his voice.
âI canât believe this! First that cranio bullshit-â
âCleidocranial dysplasiaâ, Steve corrected for what must be the millionth time.
âAnd now this!â, Tommy pressed on. âHis genes are shit, Steve.â
âThatâs your son!â, Steve hissed.
âThat pup isnât mine! He never fucking was!â
âYouâve been raising him for eight years and all of a sudden-â
âWe need to have another childâ, Tommy suddenly said.
The air left Steveâs lungs. â...HâŠwhat? Whatâre you-youâre not replacing my pup!â
âIf heâs not going to make it-â
âHe can! He could!â Steveâs heart was beating rapidly. âHe needs an operation and a donor.â
âThen why the fuck havenât we done that already?â, Tommy growled.
âBecause my dad forbid me from contacting the only man who can do itâ, Steve glared. âAnd you said it yourself that if I ever did you would leave me and Dustin out on the streets.â
Tommy looked conflicted, which was new for him. He didnât always make the most noble decision, but he did always make it quickly. After a moment, he swallowed and nodded.
âCall him and get him here by the end of the week. Or you and I are going to have some marital duties to take care of.â
Steve sighed. The odds were against him and the clock was ticking. They went home together and Steve changed, hoping Chrissy would be at the country club today. He wore a red sweater to combat the fall chill and was glad to see her at her usual table.Â
âChrissy Carver, as I live and breatheâ, Steve said, his greeting well practiced.
âSteve Harrington, I wasnât expecting to see you here today. Come, sitâ, she offered graciously.
Carol and Heather were seated too. Carol had been at the funeral. Heather too. Chrissy was the only one who had not attended.
âIâm sorry about your father. My condolencesâ, Chrissy said.
âShe would have joined your family in mourning if sheâd gotten an invitationâ, Carol said before bringing her cup of coffee up to her lips to sip.
âAnd we would have appreciated the Carverâs presenceâ, Steve said. âBut my motherâŠold grudges, you know.â
âI knowâ, Chrissy nodded with compassion.
âActually, I was hoping I could talk with you about some of the student events coming up this semester. I think Dustinâs on the mend, which means heâll be going back to school soon and I wouldnât want any of the activities to be too strenuous for him.â
âOh, we can absolutely talk about thatâ, Chrissy said. âAnd since this involves sensitive student infoâŠladies?â
Carol and Heather stood up and walked off, taking their coffees with them. Any other time, Steve would be wary of them finding out. But considering what he was really going to ask, he was sure his secret was safe with Chrissy.
âSo what is this really about?â, Chrissy asked.
âI need you to tell me how to get into contact with Eddie.â
Chrissyâs eyes widened and she sat back in her chair. âOhâŠwow IâŠI havenât heard that name in a while. Steve, are you sure now is a good time?â
âDustin might not have time if I wait any longer.â
Chrissy took her planner out of her pocketbook and wrote something down. âWe donât talk. Not really. But he keeps me up to date with his numbers just in case IâŠ.well, you know, just in case.â She tore the page out and handed it to Steve.
âI hope he answers.â
âHe willâ, Chrissy smiled, her eyes a little watery. âAnd donât worry about the vultures. Iâll throw them off the trail.â
âThank youâ, Steve breathed out.
When he got home, he paced about the phone, trying to work up the courage before dialing. It rang and his heart jumped in his throat only to hear the voicemail message.
âYouâve reached Eddie Munson. I mean, you havenât but you know what I mean. Leave a message or whatever.â
Steve scoffed, incredulous and hung up before dialing again. He clicked to leave a voicemail but all he could get out what âThe nerve!â, before slamming the phone back down. Then he dialed again, knowing he had to leave more information than that.
âYouâre a grown man, your outgoing message should be more professional than that, you might as well be using an air horn.â Click.
âLook, Iâm sorry. I shouldnât be berating you in the first place, thatâs not why I called IâŠI wanted to tell youâŠ.â Click.
Steve moved from the bedroom to the kitchen. He was going to need more alcohol to make this call. He made his next call after two glasses. And then a few more after a full bottle. And then he decided to move on to beer. Steve was awakened the next day by the sound of their chef, Scott, coming on.
âMr. Harrington, youâve got to get up now.â
Steve groaned, his head swimming. Then he realized where he was and what time it was.Â
âOh god. Did Tommy?â
âHeâs still asleep and he will be until heâs served breakfast. But youâve got to get.â
Steve had enough sense to be sure Eddieâs number was still on him and not just lying around. Tommy might have urged him to call. But if he found out Steve had been drunk dialing him all nightâŠhe didnât even want to think about it. He went upstairs to change and shower off the stench of beer and wine. He knew he must have really sounded like a fool and could only hope Eddie would parse through the nonsense and get his message.
-----------------------
Eddie was surprised to come that night to his phone blinking red, telling him he had messages. He was about to press the button, then refrained.
âItâs probably the shop. And I am off the clock.â He turned the tv on and kicked his feet up, lounging the night away and falling asleep on the couch.
The next morning, he woke up to the phone ringing and picked up. âYeah? Yeah, hello? Iâm up.â
âHey, how satisfied are you with your current auto insurance?â
âVeryâ, Eddie said before hanging up. Damn telemarketers. That was probably who left a message yesterday. Eddie pressed the button to listen, ready to just start deleting when he heard that there were twelve new messages. That is until he heard the voice on the other end.
âYouâre a grown man, your outgoing message should be more professional than that, you might as well be using an air horn.â
A bit snooty and bratty, just as he remembered it. And then they went on and there was that warmth he remembered too. And then he started to get sloppy and Eddie could tell heâd started drinking.
âThe wine bottleâs empty and I donât feel like goin to the cellar so beer it is. Remember, âmember when you and I would drink? Do you still like Pabst Blue Ribbon?â Steve snickered on the line. âThat time, that time you and I were drinkinâ and we ran out of-god I donât even remember THAT beer-but we ran out so we a-started drinking PBR and then you panicked because you had your PBR and Wayne had his and we had drunk his and so we were gonna make beer cheese soup for him but then we had to use more PBR and we were high too so we thought Wayne was gonna kill us so we just sat in his room and waited to be punished?â
Eddie most certainly did remember nights like that. His chest tightened, wondering if Steve was just calling him because he felt nostalgic when-
âI canât remember if I told you already why Iâm calling. Itâs uhâŠitâs your son. Our son.â Steve sniffed and took a deep breath. âHeâs so beautiful Eddie. And Iâm-Iâm sorry that you havenât gotten to see how amazing he is. Heâs smart. Smart like you. He doesnât get shit from me except being a wiseass and thatâs mostly you too. But heâŠ.heâs sick. Our pup is dy-heâs not doing too well. He needs you. He needs a donor and youâre the only one who can help. You donât have to worry about my father. Heâs dead. Please. I know I fucked up but our baby deserves to live.â
That was the last message. Eddie hung up and then ran upstairs to start packing. Itâd take him at least a day to get back to Indiana. But if he put the lead out, maybe he could cut it in half.Â
âTime for a reunion.â
Part 2 coming soon
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A Hair-Raising Experience
Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader
Warnings: none
Five Hargreeves was many things: a former assassin, a time-traveler, a seasoned survivor of apocalypses. But a hairdresser? That was a stretch.
Yet here he was, scissors in hand, staring at his wife Y/n with a look that blended confidence with mild panic. Y/n, sitting on a chair in their bathroom, looked up at him with a mixture of trust and fear.
âAll the salons are closed,â she said, twisting a lock of her hair nervously. âI just need a trim, Five. How hard can it be?â
Five swallowed, steeling himself. âPiece of cake. Iâve tackled tougher jobs than this.â
He combed through her hair, trying to channel every memory he had of watching people get haircuts. Y/n closed her eyes, and Five took a deep breath, bringing the scissors to the first section of hair.
Snip.
âSee? Not bad,â he said, more to convince himself than Y/n.
Y/n, eyes still closed, smiled. âI trust you. Just⊠not too short, okay?â
Five nodded, focusing intently. The problem was, with each snip, he noticed something that needed evening out. A little here, a little there, and soon he was in over his head.
âWhat do you think?â Five asked, stepping back to admire his handiwork.
Y/n opened her eyes and looked in the mirror. Her expression shifted from cautious optimism to sheer horror. âFive! What did you do?â
Five winced. âI... may have overestimated my abilities.â
Y/nâs once even, shoulder-length hair was now a choppy, lopsided mess. One side was significantly shorter than the other, and there were random, uneven chunks missing.
âOh my god, I look like a demented hedgehog,â she said, her voice a mixture of laughter and panic.
Five put the scissors down, raising his hands in surrender. âOkay, okay, I see the problem. I can fix it.â
Y/n eyed him skeptically. âYouâre not touching my hair again.â
A frantic call to a 24-hour hair salon later, they were driving through the city, Y/n wearing a baseball cap to hide the disaster. Five sat next to her, muttering apologies and trying to stifle his nervous laughter.
At the salon, the hairdresser took one look at Y/n and raised an eyebrow. âTough week?â
Y/n pointed at Five. âMy husband decided to play stylist.â
The hairdresser gave Five a knowing smile. âAh, the classic âhusband haircut.â Seen a few of those.â
As Y/n sat in the chair, Five hovered nearby, wincing at the critical assessment of his work. The hairdresser, a woman with bright purple hair and an array of tattoos, shook her head in amusement.
âWell, letâs see what we can do here,â she said, running her fingers through Y/nâs hair. âYour husbandâs given you a very⊠unique look.â
Y/n shot Five a mock glare. âUnique is one way to put it.â
The hairdresser snipped away, skillfully transforming the chaos into a stylish, albeit shorter, haircut. Y/n watched in the mirror, relief flooding her features as the damage was undone.
âSee? Itâs fixable,â the hairdresser said with a grin, stepping back to show the finished product.
Y/n smiled, feeling the now even, sleek bob. âThank you. Youâre a lifesaver.â
Five sighed in relief. âThank you for saving me from sleeping on the couch.â
On the drive home, Y/n couldnât help but laugh at the whole ordeal. âYou know, you were so confident.â
Five chuckled, shaking his head. âI donât know what I was thinking. Iâm sorry, Y/n. I really thought I could handle it.â
Y/n reached over, squeezing his hand. âYou did your best. Itâs kind of sweet, actually. Just⊠no more haircuts, okay?â
Five grinned, a mixture of sheepishness and affection in his eyes. âDeal. From now on, we leave haircuts to the professionals.â
Back home, with Y/nâs hair restored to its former glory, the incident became a new inside joke. They shared a bottle of wine, toasting to their survival of yet another Hargreeves misadventure.
And though Five may have failed as a hairdresser, he succeeded in proving, once again, that even in the most comical disasters, their love and laughter would always see them through.
#five hargreeves imagines#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves x you#number five imagine#number five x reader#the umbrella academy#number five#number five one shot#five hargreeves
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Hi Hi!!~ â„ I am obsessed with your delectable content, chefs kiss trulyâ„â„â„ Thank you for hard works and keeping us fed~ I just wanna share a Day dream after absorbing more of your Q+A posts with some K-drama or Manwha.
Fraternal twins that are Darlings. The eldest is always the second choice despite having the sexy villain look, truest heart and talents to see compromise. The odd darling that just wishes to matter, trying to feel alive through the pain of sabotage by being âuniqueâ. The youngest is the golden delicate princess look yet always the worst with the âworldâ at their favor. Manipulation for benefits with tears, seeing their sibling hurt by stealing otherâs yanderes through seduction??
Will there be karma or tragedy when they land in the Yandere AU?
From what I got from your ask, a pair of fraternal twins fall into a yandere verse. The eldest is used to being pushed aside and misunderstood thanks to her younger twinâs beauty and charisma.
Personally, I think identical twins would be more messy as then the younger twin's charisma and charm could lead to some confusing times for the yanderes. With the darling being affectionate and adoring on second, and shy and demure the next.Â
Regardless.Â
Physical appearance holds no weight to a yandereâs attraction. In fact, it can be subject to change as time passes by. So the younger twin would soon realize that she holds no power. And the older twin would soon realize that she's being appreciated for the first time in her life.Â
But since I like the identical schtick so Iâm going to expand on it. Landing in a world with so many yanderes, the younger twin will manipulate their appearance to steal and poach the yanderes for her personal game. Better yet, the younger twin could manipulate the yanderes to try and get rid of their twin so that she can milk all the power, wealth and prestige that comes with her yanderes.Â
Of course, either way, the yanderes, like a villainess novel, will either get rid of the older twin, or they will find out about the confusing switch up and then retaliate against the younger twin for the abuse the elder suffered.Â
Lilâ bonus, say the twins are from a yandereverse of their own. With the younger twin being a yandere herself and using her looks and charm to manipulate the yanderes around them to isolate her sister, falling into another yandereverse where her previous tactics now fail and she has to compete with her sisterâs other yanderes, whilst trying to manipulate them into staying away.Â
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Blue and Violet Scenes/Ideas that never made the cut
Self Indulgent post ahead, but I kind of wanted to share some of the things that had been part of the early stages of BAV but were cut out when I finally started publishing! Most of this stuff was either cut out due to my interpretations of the characters naturally changing and/or I simply realized that these aspects simply could not fit the story I wanted to tell (or, they are just silly things I simply could not fit into the plot line. OR, I forgot about them and didn't remember these things existed until now đ).
Starting off strong with a thing I actually wrote a segment for (an idea that was relatively recent compared to the ones down below): During Colours, Baihe and Macaque were meant to visit the ruins of her house and try and salvage any bits and pieces which might help them find her parents. In the end I had decided that, Baihe would have done that already before Macaque found her on the park bench. I just think that that moment between her and her old home should just... well, it's a moment that belongs to her. Something Macaque didn't need to bare witness.
Extra Info: This is where Baihe was originally meant to find the old photo of her, her parents, and MÄo as a kitten. And... Macaque is there in the background. Stealing an air fryer that managed to survive the wreckage (this was in fact written into the draft of this segment).
Next is- well, it contains a bit of a heavy topic. It's about Mayor and LBD and... erm...
In the published version of TQFTSK. Macaque betrays the Chief and locks them in the Calabash and this inevitably leads to LBD telling Chief to cut off their hair. Originally, this was not going to be the only thing she would do.
I have incredibly mixed feelings about this concept, but basically, after Chief especially failed to get the key and 'let' Macaque escape, LBD would have had severe insecurities about the Chief being on their own and the idea that they would never be able to get anything done without her. So, she made them wear a collar. So that every time they didn't do anything right, the needles imbedded into it would dig into their throat and- well, it was basically torture. She would have called it 'necessary discipline'. Of course, the collar would not be visible to anyone. It only appears when it's 'necessary'.
But this was an extremely early concept that I threw away in the bin after realising that this was not what I wanted LBD and Mayor's relationship to be like. While the initial idea behind this was to really empathize the fact that LBD owns Mayor and is extremely controlling, the idea of a physical collar ruins that aspect of their relationship. It's a visual and painful representation of their relationship, sure, but it made their relationship too negative and, well, Mayor loves her. And I knew it needed to be important to at least give you guys some sort of reason and some sort of argument as to why that admiration and love would be justified. The collar was just too much, and it didn't fit either of them.
Side Note: One thing I think subconsciously happened though, was the needle thing. LBD ended up killing Ling with tens of thin needles piercing through their body. So, not a collar, but the basic principle of needles being used for pain... remains.
Moving on, a more silly one this time! Somewhere near the beginnings of all of this (all the way back when I had only planned to make TQFTSK and Colours), there was going to be one single chapter (in Colours) dedicated to the Mayor going through all the stages of grief (eventually I'd come to the conclusion that they needed a lot more than one chapter to do all of that lmao). As a part of their bargaining stage, Macaque was going to stumble upon them in a bar and- unfortunately, being the curious nut he is, decides to stick around and just listen to the Mayor drunkenly mope.
PSA: No, this would not have ended in drunk kissing. This was meant to end in a snotty nosed Mayor and Macaque promptly leaving after he'd had his bit of listening to their misery.
Another thing was that Mayor was meant to be able to see souls! This particular story feature eventually just evolved into Mayor simply being able to judge a soul by looking at their eyes (hence the whole, "eyes are the gateway to the soul").
Another Note: This whole idea was also meant to emphasize the fact that Mayor has no soul and, how whenever they look inside themselves, there is no colour and there is no soul (that is, until they get their soul back). But, well, I figured their eyes alone would be able to do all of that just fine without this ability.
Now, as ashamed as I am to admit, originally I had completely bought into the Baihe, Macaque, and Mayor family dynamic. So, in the beginning, this was what was going to happen.
But then I decided Baihe was not going to conveniently be an orphan or have shitty parents for the sake of this dynamic. No, no no no. She will have loving parents, character development, and she will be more than just a character to fill in the slot of 'the child'. Whenever I write Baihe, I always strive to not use her for the sake of developing Macaque and Mayor's characters. No shame to those who like this dynamic though, its a good one and it's so silly (I still like it to be honest).
Now, let me tell you that there are a LOT more unused concepts than this. It's really just a decent slice from a never ending pile of WIPs and shower thoughts scribbled onto a doc from all the way back in like... 2022-23.
#lego monkie kid#lego monkie kid fanart#monkie kid#monkie kid fanart#lmk#lmk fanart#lmk mayor#monkie kid mayor#lmk macaque#monkie kid macaque#lmk baihe#monkie kid baihe#lmk little girl#monkie kid little girl#lmk hostess#monkie kid hostess#chat is it weird to hyperfixate on your own fic#or maybe it's just the fact that shadowpuppet has consumed my life#shadowpuppet#lmk shadowpuppet#making this post actually reminded me how many unused concepts I actually could use and therefore have refrained from including them here#I have intense fears of using Baihe as a plot device solely for Macaque's benefit because she deserves better
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animism ponderpost (this got bloody long):
we're in a situation we didn't expect to be in, and it's changed our view on something
so back in june this year we finally received our new, fully powered wheelchair Saoirse II (an active manual wheelchair with powered wheels fitted to her, different from a standard power chair, because our mutant tallness meant none of those under ÂŁ15k would fit us)
and at the same time as we collected Saoirse II we took in our old wheelchair Saoirse I for a service, and to get one of her power-assisted wheels repaired (which had suddenly failed a week beforehand)
we said to other people at the time that Saoirse wasn't the wheelchair, she was somehow the consciousnness that resided in that chair, and when we changed over to Saoirse II we ceremonially transferred the seat cushion, saying with some tongue in our cheek that it was the seat of her consciousness, and that Saoirse II was Saoirse now
seven weeks later, our new wheelchair ran up hard against a piece of street paving that was raised 27mm above the rest, and one of the front caster arms buckled - we took her in to be looked at for repair, and it was determined that a whole new frame was needed (under warranty thank goodness, it absolutely shouldn't buckle like that), so we switched back to Saoirse I, using some loaner power assisted wheels while we waited for either our new chair to be fixed or our old power assisted wheels to be fixed, whichever happened first
thanks to brexit and some other bullshit involving parts having to be sent over from germany, it took four months for us to get our old power assisted wheels back and fitted to Saoirse I, so we got them back after having to use Saoirse I again for ten weeks with the loaner wheels (which were nowhere near as good as our own old ones and were more exhausting to use)
and thanks to the same nonsense involving germany, it took three months to get Saoirse II back with a new frame - we collected her yesterday
anyway (bloody hell preamble from hell) so let's get to the animism part at last
the thing is, since yesterday, for the first time we have two wheelchairs in our bedroom, sat side by side - although Saoirse I is folded down as much as she does, and with wheels off to take up as little space as possible, so she's sort of in sleep mode
and here we are sharing this room with both of them and it's suddenly clear to us that there isn't just one Saoirse who's transferred from the old to the new wheelchair - there are two distinct personalities sat side by side in our room, and we're aware of both of them as unique beings - and that's chastening (we were wrong about them), fascinating, and delightful all at once
an extra layer of interesting from a wheelchair of theseus point of view is: when we were using Saoirse I again but with the loaner wheels on, she was very much the same person? the fact that she was wearing different wheels was no different from us wearing different shoes - we were both really happy when she got her old wheels back on though - serviced and with new bearings all round, she runs so much more smoothly and without friction than we ever remember her before - but she was always just her, either way
this is a long ponder, sorry, but it's about emotional awareness and we wanted to write about the whole thing in case it helps anyone else out there make sense of experiences they might have (well you never know, but in any case it's helping us, articulating all this) - our plan before had been just to sell on Saoirse I as soon as we got Saoirse II (if that plan hadn't got scotched by one of the wheels failing)
and yet here we are with two wheelchairs together in our bedroom - and even before that happened, when we realised how long it was taking to get Saoirse II repaired, we'd decided to sell on the power assisted old wheels but to keep Saoirse I's frame, against the possibility of needing her if our new chair needed repair again, this seemed just practical
but now we're lying here with both of them, it feels a huge relief not to let Saoirse I go, because she's just as much a person as Saoirse II is (it ain't the cushion), and we've been through a lot In five years together, and we're so grateful and she's family and sort of big sister to Saoirse II, who's really only been with us for seven weeks as yet and we're still getting to know each other
we feel also that we shouldn't be calling them Saoirse I and II any more - we think maybe the new one is officially Saoirse NĂ Saoirse (NĂ in irish means "daughter of"), but we can call both of them Saoirse in informal settings unless we needs to specify (also they're different brands, so we can always refer to them by pedigree!)
that's it - if you've made it this far then we hope you at least found it interesting? it's very self indulgent and in some ways overthought, but we really are finding this experience fascinating emotionally - you can call yourself anything, and sometimes we wonder about our animism, but then we directly experience our animism in this way (it may help that we're also a system anyway) and having to re-examine our experience of the two Saoirses together is just, invigorating and in some way euphoric like when you're with friends and you suddenly realise they really are your friends
and yes, we too find this weird at the same time as it seeming perfectly normal
we'd love to hear from anyone out there who experiences things in similar ways, if you feel like talking about it?
okay stop now! *snort* - HĂȘtre outâïžđż
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âž» Elizabeth watched Alexander analyzing the ultrasound with their new bundles of love pictures. She was partially worried, she wanted or expected one, but surprised by a second set of twins. She was worried that she would fail them, but then again, Lilou and Beau were just fine. If she managed to handle twins once, why wouldn't she be able to handle it twice? †And she isn't alone, she has his support so it'll be new for her to have a partner to share things with. It was both thrilling and scary at the same time. The blonde felt her body, colliding with his when he wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. â I don't mind having your presence in the appointments. If you don't want to miss any, then, it's okay. If I want to go alone, I'll let you know. â
The Aussie doesn't mind having Alexander in all appointments, but she knew some of them might be so boring, that he wouldn't need to be present, but if he really wanted to be around who is she to deny him anything? †Five or six days, she could handle it. She wanted to be alone with him, on a trip to a gateway together. This seems like a perfect timing. †She had a few ideas on how to make this work, when she worked as a stripper and sometimes the twins couldn't behave well, she used to talk to them through video call, in her breaks. Rarely on unpredictable times. Perhaps, if she adjusts the timezone and does constant video calls, it'd be okay. Besides, it wasn't like they were spending too long, if anything she flew home alone and waited for Alex to get there later. Part of her is worried that Alex will vanish and maybe appear two years later.
She tried to avoid that thought. â That will be fun! I can't wait to go. â Part of her was extremely worried about letting Claude and the twins together when both of them were out across the ocean. If living in the same state, the same city, the trio drives her nuts⊠She'd ask for Ricardo, who goes some days to visit her place to see if something is upside down. †The news for their twins will be undoubtedly when they arrive from this trip. She was taken by surprise when he got her hand and kissed it, and she turned her face to him offering a kind smile. â No, I'm not hungry now. I'm a little nauseous.â Definitely, eating wasn't exactly what she wanted at the moment. Although, she loves desserts she couldn't bring herself to have one. Not that day. â Maybe, something to drink. Coconut water. â
âââhe accepted the envelope, thanking her as he did; opening it to look at the prints as he heard her respond to his question. there was an overwhelming sense of responsibility rushing through him as he stared at the images; the very same one he had felt before when she had told him about their twins âthe same sense that he was going to fuck this up with them, because, despite appearances there is a constant storm raging inside of him; his mind constantly barraged with the amount of overthinking that he struggles ( immensely ) more and more by the day to keep at bay at present.
he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer; pressed a kiss on top of her head. âyou can tell me when you want me to go with you,â he offered with a faint nod in response, as he put the printed ultrasound images back in the envelope; perhaps she didnât mean it the way he intercepted it, but he doesnât want to overthink this too, now âyes, he would like to go to the appointments, but maybe she would prefer to go alone and he wouldnât want to make her feel uncomfortable not wanting to tell him. it was interesting to him to hear how different her pregnancy carrying Lilou and Beau had been from this one already so early on, even if he noted she still didnât seem to be pregnant, certainly not carrying twins, by the size of her bump ânearly non existent, still. he looked at her for a moment, idly toying with the envelope in his hand. âthe trip will be five days,â he told her, âmaybe six,â he added after a moment; and that was cutting it short in a way, he would have to make it work to complete his mission during that time frame âwould also like to have some time for her, not just having brought her along for the shake of it, but he reckoned that would be easier during the day anyway. but he is no stranger to how attached she is to the twins, and vice versa, and hence it felt important to let her know as soon as he had everything planned, in case she would change her mind given the amount of time she would be away from home, them and Claude; he wouldnât mind going alone, it wouldnât be the first nor the last time; especially given his expanding clientele in Europe.
âthe flight is in two days,â Alex added softly as he opened the passenger side door for her âthey did say they would share the news soon, but after the trip and he also couldnât postpone it any longer. he would propose to take some extra time seeing they were already out and about, an impromptu date maybe, they were already gone for a long time and he figured she would probably prefer to go home anyway âwhich, is mainly his overthinking not her, even the slightest, bit of detail breaking down and itâs freaking exhausting at his pointâ but he still tried to get out of this loop, even as got into the driverâs seat, put the envelope in the center console before turning the engine on to drive off. his fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her hand to him; pressing a kiss against the back of her hand; his hand still firmly holding hers as he placed their joined hand on his lap. âshould we make a quick stop to get your favorite dessert?â
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A lovely and (over)confident Siltera from @a-lonely-dunedain!
#siltera#lotro#river hobbit#she has boromir's lucky wolf tooth necklace surely nothing can go wrong!#she's ready to kick ass and take names#tumblr tried to hide her from me by not giving dm notifs#but that failed and now i share her with you
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