#i have good approval with him and its probably only because he stays at home for major plot moments

[soclam]

it's so funny seeing people talking about their tav kicking babies to gain astarion's approval while victri is out here like "i am going to do good deeds because i simply cannot fathom doing anything else". and he's still obsessed with her because i leave him at camp most of the time sflkdhsfldk

[bvnnywrites]

Still Waters Run Deep

Chapter 2: Überprüfen

PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the very long wait. My body gave out on stress and I passed out the side of the road this Monday on my way home. Also, I was manic and I had an episode yesterday so yayeet. Also, I read all your comments in the last chapter and asvbhbvdvdhdhfhv I LOVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. THANK YOU SO MUCH RAHHHHHH. Anyways, enjoy the chapter! UwU

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking

THE ONLY INTERESTING THING TO DO AT KORTAC, if he wasn’t out and about in the field, was apparently dwelling in the thought of committing fraternization – and König chided himself that he was better than this.

But there’s nothing to worry about. Of course, he isn’t losing sleep overthinking the eager look on your face to get in his good graces—his approval and validation. No. he isn’t staying up late, seeing your adorable pouty lips and sweet-looking eyes glancing up at him because you’re too small whether you stood or sat. Especially, the softness of your flesh when he held your chin to make you look at him, or the warmth of your body when he soothed you from seeing those disgusting pictures.

König definitely does not want to know every detail of your life—what your flesh taste like pressed against his tongue, what it feels like as the tentacles on his face roam your body and leaving slick in its trail, what you like or hate, what blood type you have, how soft your hair is when he’s gripping it in his fingers while he’s shoving his cock deep in your little cunt, what your favorite position in bed is, what it feels like to have your pussy milking him desperately as he breeds you again and again until you’re pregnant with his children.

No.

No.

Who the hell was he kidding?

He’s is a fucking pervert—the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

What he’s doing is fucking disgusting and he can’t believe that he’s thinking this way about you. God, König knows he’s a thousand shades of fucked up, but he did not expect to be like this. The colonel never expected he’d go this fucking low. He doesn’t want to be like he’s father—a disgusting fucker who was selfish and sick in the head—but he can’t help but fall straight down the rabbit hole and into the maws of the abyss of his own wicked desires.

König is a fucking disgusting creep because you’re so sweet, calm and understanding when he threw the first few layers of ugliness from his soul, dumping it on your lap, and you so graciously comforted him. He is disgusting because you’re literally twenty-three years younger than him, old enough to be his daughter, and yet your eagerness to obtain his approval has him losing his shit. You have him losing his morals. The softness of your skin has him wanting more, his teeth clenched with poorly contained desire, and yet he demands more – to be closer, to reach into the depths of your soul and twist it until you’re as fucked up as he is—craving him the way he craves you. You have him understanding why his father did what he did because now he thinks that maybe the sick fuck couldn’t control himself in the presence of his ‘Aphrodite’.

And you… you were König’s ‘Aphrodite’—the embodiment of his desires, both good and bad.

He is a fucking pervert because you were eager to help him in this manhunt for the so-called beast. Eager and desperate to advance in the ranks of the military – that’s all you were probably hoping, but instead of following the logical side, König had let himself be swayed by the waves of his depravity.

König was always proud of his self-control – his more human nature that he had inherited from his beloved mother. He never thought the day would come where these sickening thoughts would run in his mind. He was a monster, yes, but nature does have a way of being more predominant than nurture. At least, in this case. It didn’t even matter that his mother – who despised and loved him at the same time – had engrained the Lord’s teachings into his head or the holy scriptures that she would beat into his flesh.

All those teachings went to waste because at the end of the day, he was his father’s son.

He could see the disappointing and disgusted look on his mother’s face right now.

But all that washes away when his mind comforts him with the thoughts of you. The way your pretty eyes look up at him through long lashes, the way your voice addresses him has desire pumping in König’s veins. Because somehow, when it comes to you, he feels calm as he feels the need to lash out. He feels the need to bite and claw at you, marking you as his own little wife to love and to fuck. He wants to rip off his mask in front of you and make you braid his hair and weave flowers into it because you called him ‘beautiful’, wants to let one of his tentacles slither around your neck while he bites you and marks you as his. His little and eager to please mate—his beloved wife-to-be.

He can still see your pouty face, as if you’re there right in front of him. Your pretty wide eyes looking up at him—looking at him as if he wasn’t a disgusting monster—like an actual breathing person. Your scent lingers in his nose for the past two days. You smelled delicious – divine, if he’s honest. You reeked of the shower gel that you use,  and that suffocating perfume—or is it a cologne?—that you’re using to make yourself fresh. Several thoughts ran in his head, wanting nothing more than to smother you in his scent. Rubbing his smell all over you, until every single being—doesn’t matter if mortal or not—would know that you’re his.

The thought itself had his cock twitching more than it did before. It’s throbbing hard, leaking precum all over his hand as he pumps it with his fist while the other grips the sheets. Judging from your smaller form against his, you’d definitely be fucking tight, which was why he was gripping it mercilessly. The pictures of pin-up girls had long been discarded. He doesn’t need those when he has your pretty face, adorable ass, and alluring scent engraved in his mind. He’s a fucking perverted old dog… and it was all because of you.

König wants to have you on his knees before him. Relieving him of his stress by wrapping your adorable lips around the head of his dick, soft tongue lapping at the precum he’s making as if you’re a goddess and the gushing liquid was ambrosia—the very thing you needed to live.

He wants to take care of you, cradle you in his arms and pepper your face with kisses and show you how much he can just provide for you—KorTac isn’t cheap in their payments, and he is one of their best mercenaries they have, not counting the huge mess he has made that his superiors are ordering him to clean up. He was too valuable for them to lose, so they’re just asking him to wipe away the evidence and pin the blame on some poor soldier who was there at the wrong place at the right time.

König wants nothing more than to hold you close. He can’t even think about letting you fall in the grasp of another man—whether they be as old as him or young as your age, whichever you prefer—because you are fragile as you are gullible. He can tell by the way your eyes glimmer at him or the kindness that blossoms on your face whenever you cater to the soldiers under your command, acting as if you’re a mother to them. He wants you to be his. His little, beloved wife. Waiting for him in the house he’d buy for you in Hallstatt or maybe he’d catch you walking along the shoreline of the lake while you’re telling stories of yours and his love story to his unborn child that grows in your womb.

By God König wanted you more than anything.

He’s thinking of putting you on your knees, preferably on his bed so it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable in the long run, so you can be comfortable while he shoves his cock down your throat. Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, little whines and moans vibrating from you and on to his length and muffled from how strong his thrusts are inside your tight, wet, and warm mouth.

 Your face would be messy, mascara running down your cheeks, if you had any, and lip gloss smeared and staining his cock. And König would try to be gentle, so he wouldn’t end up breaking you, but it’d be impossible when you’re so eager to please him. You’d have trouble barking out orders and speaking normally, because he knows he’d wreck your throat by the time he’s done with you.

König is fantasizing about it—having you in such a state, making use of your delicate mouth and moving tongue.

But guilt flashes across his mind. No. No, he couldn’t do that to you. You’re a fragile little thing—not to mention a human. You’re like an adorable little mouse beneath him. Breaking you would break him too—hurting you would hurt him too.

He is a worthless monster, a disgusting being that should be shot dead for just thinking of you—his klein hase—like this. That woman who read his future was right. He was depraved. He’d ruin you…

But God have mercy on him because he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to back the fuck away from you.

Your name falling from his lips like a prayer, chanting your name as if you’d be able to save him from eternal damnation – and maybe you could, in your own human way. A primal and dark urge to have you in his full mercy, waiting for him to claim you. He… He just wants to be accepted by people, to be welcomed by his peers, but none of it matters now because he just wants to be accepted by you. He’s panting and groaning, pumping his dick several times, chasing that climax. He is shamelessly hard, cock angry as it's about to burst.

König feels dirty for this. He felt like a teenage boy who’s jerking off to his crush. And despite that, he’s imagining you sucking on his cock or having your forehead pressed against his, whispering how much you love him and how you can’t wait to be filled with his cock. He imagines your cum-drunk expression, eyes glazed as your head is muddled and filled with nothing but pleasure, and that makes him cum; thick ropes of white shooting out from the tip, while his cock pulsates as he pumps it continuously before gradually slowing to a halt.

He keeps cumming, more than he usually does. The white, thick liquid staining his abdomen, pants, and sheets. He moans, biting his lips in a poor attempt to conceal his pathetic whimpers. His release covering his hand—sticky and disgustingly warm. Bless KorTac for allowing him and other high-ranking superiors to have their own room, because he knows goddamn well that he won’t be able to commit such sinful acts in communal barracks.

Post-nut clarity hits him hard, almost the same way his mother would, and he’s shameful for what he had just done. The two of you barely know each other, only getting information about you out of your files, and yet he was infatuated with you the moment you arrived on KorTac that sunny day. And yet he fell in love completely in just a matter of two days after talking with you.

He wants to resent you for what you made him do. He wants to worship you and mark your body with his marks. He wants to be left alone—preferably in your arms while you stroke his hair and look at him lovingly because no one ever looked at him the same way you do.

“Mein Gott, Shatz. What are you doing to me, liebling?”

König pants, letting his head fall back into the pillow as he sighed. His muscles relaxed, so much that he feels like he’s going to be one with the mattress. He lays there for a bit in his own bodily fluids before he got up to clean himself and get changed, replacing the sheets with cleaner ones.

“Colonel, are you there?”

Your soft voice came to his ears, making him stop in his tracks. Was he delusional to the point that he’s imagining your voice? He’s losing it. He’s definitely losing it because no way in hell did you sought him out at—he glances at his clock and sees that it’s 24:58 on a Wednesday—this late in the night. König ignores the voice, opting to throw himself back into the bed, cuddling his pillows and imagining that it’s you.

“Colonel?” Your voice echoes, followed by a soft knock. “Sir? This is very important, I’m sorry.”

Oh. Oh. No, he’s not actually hearing things. You’re actually outside his door. König wore his mask, covering his ugliness because he didn’t want to scare a pretty little thing like you. It would be too soon for you to see his face. It’d be like putting a frog straight in boiling water instead of heating it up little by little.

He rushed to fix the cloth over his head, zipping and buttoning his pants. König almost tore the bolts of his door just to immediately see you, and when he swung the door open—almost ripping it off the hinges—he saw you standing there with several dossiers in your arms. Your pretty doe-like eyes, the ones he fantasized about as he came literally just seconds ago, looks up at him with a sheepish gaze. You smile apologetically up at him, neck craning to properly look at him. He sees the way your eyes glanced at his shirtless torso before flickering up to look at him.

Were you attracted to him the same way he is to you?

Did your cunt also drip at the thought of him, the same way his cock throbs at the mere thought of you? Did you also touch yourself when you were alone the past two days after you two spoke to one another? Did you also call out his name? Whimpering and panting as you flicked your clit and plunged your tiny fingers in your weeping pussy–

“Sorry to disturb you so late at night, I was ordered to give you these documents. Horangi said that I deliver these to you because it needs your immediate approval, sir.”

You say to him, spouting out your reasons and he can see that you’re doing so in hopes of not angering him because you think you’ve disturbed his sleep. How adorable. König keeps a note to himself to tell Horangi not to let you out this late at night; he doesn’t want you being suspected as the killer. Your cheeks are slightly red, and König finds red pretty on your face. So much so that he wants to just grab your squishy cheeks and pepper it with kisses. Maybe nibble on it affectionately.

“It’s alright. No worries. Come in, Schatz.”

He moves aside, letting you in. And, oh boy, you eagerly entered his chambers as you rushed to the desk in his room. You bend over to place the heavy papers on his table, and he has half a mind to bend you over the desk, tear off your clothes, and fuck you stupid until all you can do is mewl and whine on his cock. The fact that he was imagining you on your knees, choking on his cock or pumping it with your hands while you whispered sweet nothing to him five minutes ago didn’t help the colonel either.

“I’m really sorry. I know you’re probably sleeping–”

“I said it is fine, liebling. No need to lose your head over nothing, ja?”

He finds it endearing that he calms you, that his words weigh that much for you. Usually, he’s used to barking orders, establishing things with force. And yet, when he speaks to you softly, reassuring you, that it’s alright if you waltz into his room—into his heart, even—and take whatever you wanted is a nice change of pace. He’d give more to you on your way out, because he loves you. He wants to marry you. He wants to take you back with him to Austria. You’re beautiful in gear, but König knows you’d be more beautiful in maternity dresses.

But he is sane about you. Completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing wrong with his state of mind regarding you. Everyone loves strongly, ja?

“It’s late at night, and I don’t want you to end up as a corpse in the halls, liebling. Let me escort you to your quarters, ja?” He says softly, walking up to you as he effortlessly moves the paperwork that were practically heavy for you. “It would ease me to sleep, knowing you’re safe and sound in your bed.” König pats your head.

“I… um… are you sure, sir?” You look at him, confused as you tilt your head in confusion. “You must be tired for the day, and I’ve already taken up much of your time.”

He ignored your words of worry as he grabbed his hoodie and wore it, finally giving you an ounce of mercy because as much as he loves the way your eyes are drawn to his torso, he also doesn’t want to give you cardiac arrest just because he was being too much for you.

Now that you’re here in his room, alone with the colonel, your heart hums nervously. You pray that no soldier would see you walk out of his room at this hour. Because you don’t want to burden him with silly rumors when he’s drowning in paperwork, focusing on an investigation, and you don't want to add up to his plate.

“I want to protect you from harm, Schatz. With me around, I doubt the beast would hurt you.”

Lies. No, wait. It’s not all lies, so basically just half-truths. With König around, the thing that lurks in the halls of KorTac would never hurt you, if anything it would worship the ground you walk on. Ask him to give you a town for your dowry, and he would enslave every continent on Earth and lay it by your feet—because the thing in the dark is him, and he loves you, and he wants to give you the world.

“Okay. I mean… if that’s okay with you, sir.”

“König.”

“What?”

“Please, mein liebe. I would appreciate it if we drop the formalities. We are comrades, ja?”

“Alright… as I was saying, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you, König.”

“You’re not a burden. Not to me… not if it’s you, mein liebling.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion with the way he addressed you. It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel important. You don’t know German, and you kick yourself mentally because you wish you knew what he was calling you. For all you know, he’s calling you stupid affectionately. Because it took you weeks before you realize Izzy was calling you ‘stupid’ in the most affectionate way possible, so who’s to say the colonel is any different?

Before you can ask him what the words mean, he walks past you, opening the door for you. You walk out his room, thankful that no one’s there to see the two of you together.

You two walk down the halls, side by side. And poor little you.t you’re practically walking alongside the devil. The halls are empty, devoid of any soul. The trip to your room was quiet, no one is around, obviously. Soldiers were already asleep, and those who didn’t need to follow the curfew were chilling in their room or buried in neck-deep paperwork in their offices.

König wished he wasn’t the monster right now. He wished it was someone else, because he wants an opportunity for him to be a hero. To be a protector. To put up all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while you praise him for his strength and bravery. Maybe shower him with loving kisses, even. He wants something to try and kill him, just so he can show you that he can protect you from anything and anyone who would want to kill you, but then you stop in front of your room, making you turn and smile at him.

He loved your smile, the way your skin stretched and your adorable features twist just to give him a kind gesture

“Well. This is my stop.” You offer him a warm smile, unaware that it’s a currency that König could never afford yet you willingly give it to him for free. “Thank you… for looking out for me, König.”

“You’re a valuable soldier. It would be a shame if the thing lurking the base comes and kills you, Shatz—I want you safe.” He smiles at you beneath the mask, and the way his eyes crinkle is adorable and you know he’s smiling when they do that. “For as long as I’m able to, I’ll protect you, okay?”

His fingers gently held your chin, afraid that he’d break you at the slightest pressure. Your heart thumps in your chest. How could Roze or Izzy ever tell you to avoid him? He was practically a sweetheart. The colonel wanted you safe more than anything, isn’t that enough to warrant an inch of friendship from you?

Your eyes met his, those eyes that remind you of a storm at sea, are filled with nothing but warmth. It makes your breath hitch with how… oddly intimate it feels. You’re sure that if you weren’t a soldier, if the two of you met outside the forces, as civilians, without the medals and badges, you’re sure that he would’ve kissed you right then and there. It felt like your heart was about to explode – it’s too overwhelming.

So, you forced yourself to look away, stepping back and away from his grasps—from his touch. The absence of his touch makes your head clear without realizing it felt hazy in the first place. Such a strange effect that the colonel has on you.

König is displeased that you’ve put more distance between you two, but he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t want to make you worry, despite the adorable look on your face whenever you do look troubled. So, König opts to pat you on the head briefly.

“Sleep tight, Schatz. Don’t forget to lock your door, ja?”

“Alright, co–König. Good night.”

As you shut your doors, the monster outside stood there for a few more minutes before it walked away.

“Did something good happen today, colonel?”

“None of your concern, major.”

Horangi was as sharp as ever, deep voice rumbling in his chest which intimidated most people around him. He was also the only one in the ranks to be able to speak casually with his superior – even though all of KorTac members usually avoid the giant soldier since they don’t really want to risk being discharged because they can’t function properly anymore. Horangi was the closest thing König has to a friend – which is kind of sad since a former gambling addict was the only one who can tolerate his shit and can understand him, even with his hood permanently on.

But Horangi was right.

Something good did happened.

You happened.

“That new lieutenant.” König starts. “If you’re sending her out to deliver files, tell me so I can escort the klein hase to her destination,” the colonel orders him, “I do not wish for her to be hurt.”

He spent the night awake, drinking and shredding it in the gym, trying so hard to put your adorable face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, he hasn’t seen you running around base for the day because he’s too busy cooped up in his office and signing off the papers that you’ve given him hours ago, but the way your facial features would get distorted into something more adorable every single time he closed his eyes was highly concerning.

And he calms himself down in those wee hours the same way he did moments before you knocked on his door—jerking himself off until he felt nothing but self-hatred and the yearning of having your soft body pressed up against his.

“She’s a lieutenant, König.” Horangi snort. “You know I don’t recruit the weak.”

“She’s a woman,” König responds, “I’m not saying she’s weak, but most soldiers in base are men… I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.”

“She can handle herself.”

“And what of the monster on the loose?”

“Why? Do you plan on eating her next?”

“… Perhaps.”

König thinks for a moment. It should be easier if he would have an official legal reason to keep you by his side. Have your desk literally in his office so he can always keep his eyes on you, make sure no one lays a finger on you. König chucks his delirious thoughts to the lack of sleep, his fingers held down the paper while he wrote with his pen, but he wished he was holding you down and fucking into your wet cunt instead. He had those things before – overthinking about the tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but understood that he can’t be with them—it could be his childhood crushes that he could never had thanks to his hideous appearance… and anxiety. It could be fantasizing about a pretty woman that caught his attention one day—imagining a life with them, multiple kids, and maybe a dog or two. König is aware that he has a problem , but not like… this; never dangerous.

The problem was that he knows he can have you.

Perhaps not in a traditional way. No. He can’t court you, that’s against the rules, and König wished nothing more that you were a civilian instead of a soldier. Because of your badge, he couldn’t be with you. He has half a mind to snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate because he knows you would never marry a monster like him, so abducting you was… reasonable. He can shower you with gifts in your captivity, decorating you with all the gold and jewel in the world while he’s fucking his child into you. He can have his men kidnap you, and yes, it is inhumane but you would be happy with him as his wife than a woman playing as a lieutenant. He would soothe your worries, fuck you every single hour with no rest until his cock rearranges your insides and impregnate you until he can convince you that he was the perfect mate for you, and then boom – happily ever after.

He knows that he can have you.

And it drives him crazy because he has never felt a strong urge to want  something so bad in his life. At this point, it’s not even a want. It’s a need. It’s hilarious how the two of you barely knew each other, but König was head over heels for you. He wants you by his side, whether you’re willing or not.

“Have you eaten?” Horangi asked.

“Not yet.” König answered.

That’s how he found himself sitting down at the mess hall, eating this food that was barely stimulating his senses. Horangi didn’t join him, said he had to attend a meeting with his soldiers since a complaint was given to him. It was good, actually. There was rice, three hamburger steak, gravy and mashed potatoes. They gave him a bigger serving simply because he was a giant man, it only made sense to give him enough sustenance to function. The food was delicious, but König didn’t really pay attention much to it.

Now that he has had a taste of you—you giving him kind words and smiling at him—König couldn’t get enough. You were like a drug. He want to pin you down, ravage you in bed, feel your walls clamp and spasm around his cock over and over again while you’re reduced to nothing but mewls with a cum-drunk expression the same way a drug addict heats heroin over a spoon before injecting it into their systems.

He needs you under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed with sweat and marked with his lips and teeth.

He needs you under him, creaming on his cock while he stretches out your cunt deliciously – taking him to the hilt like a good girl, cock forming a bulge on your abdomen. Juices dripping on to the sheets while he suckles on your nipple, his other hand groping your other tit.

He needs you under him–

“Colonel?”

König’s eyes snapped up and locked on to yours, and the concern scribbled on to them has his heart swooning over you once more. Your brows are turned upward with worry and you standing in front of the table he was sitting at, calling out to him has him wanting to put you on his lap and nuzzle against the crook of your neck. He smiles underneath the mask, seeing you again, blessing his eyes with your beauty.

“Ah, liebling. What brings you my way?”

“Roze is on a mission and Izzy is currently in a meeting, and every seat is taken. So, I was wondering if I can sit with you.”

“Of course, mein liebe. Your company is always welcome.”

You can sit on his lap.

You can sit on his face, ride him while he eats you out. Tongue lapping at your sweet juices as you cum on his face. God, he wants to spoil you. Cover you with kisses and embrace you because he loves you.

To König, you’re adorable when you eat. Your cheeks puffing a little like a chipmunk as you chew your food, before gulping some of your water. There’s a bit of mashed potato smeared by the side of your lips, and you don’t seem to notice. Before he can stop himself, his fingers had made contact with your skin, wiping away the stain. He sees you visibly froze, eyes widening so adorably.

“You had mashed potato on your face.” König chuckled, wiping the food off of his gloves with a tissue.

“O-oh…” You stutter, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. I was hungry… I missed breakfast.”

Your cheeks turned red, flustered at his gentle gesture, and König eats that shit up. His mind keeping the moment in his head. His desires spilling over it like ink; tainting a shared innocent memory between you two. He stares at you for a solid minute, engraining your features into his memory—as if he hasn’t memorized your face at this point—and smiles softly beneath the mask. There are scars all over his body, including his face, and the tentacles on his face struggles not to reach out to you and feel your skin against it.

He wants you to know that he would do anything for you. How he’s willing to lay down his life for you. How he’s willing to protect you from anything because you’re all he ever wanted in his whole life. You would appreciate a man with scars, right? After all, it’s a sign of bravery.

König took part in many battles, too many to count with his tentacles and fingers and toes combined; spent his youth training to be the best killer possible. He took part in many conflicts and killed hundreds, maybe thousands even,  while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – maybe, except for talking to people sometimes. It’s not like he’s terrified of them, but rather afraid of making a fool of himself. König always hated talking to people, but being colonel meant he had to communicate to soldiers under his command and his superiors.

He isn’t afraid of anything. But… he is afraid of you finally seeing underneath the mask and thinking that you, in fact, find him revolting to look at.

The colonel takes one look good at you, and figures that maybe it’s worth the internal turmoil if it meant that he would have you by his side. He would agree to get as many ranks as possible if that meant he could provide for you and have you quit your job as a soldier. If that would allow him to come home to every day and night instead of sleeping alone in his room.

“I suppose you enjoy your breakfast, liebling?” König chuckled, and your face just goes even more red.

“It’s delicious,” You answered, smiling sheepishly.

He loves it when you smile. Obsessed with it—the way your eyes twinkle with delight whenever you cast your gaze at him without a hint of disgust.

“Would you like to get coffee someday?” König offered. “I know a café that has really good coffee or if you prefer non-caffeinated drinks, they also have milkshakes and their desserts are pretty good.”

 And you with those pretty doe-eyes of yours say, “Sure! Set the time and date, colonel.”

Other soldiers are looking. They’re glancing at you and him, but you don’t seem to notice the stares or the fact that it had gone slightly quiet. He is a creep, weirdo and all the words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones these past few days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are smiling at him with such unbridled admiration was driving him mad.

“How about this Thursday, ja?” König inquired, wanting to hear your opinion on the matter.

You think for a moment, brows furrowed and König finds it really endearing. Izzy said she’d take you to a café but she wasn’t really sure yet since she says it might be the day Horangi and her go on missions. Roze wouldn’t be back until Sunday, and you’re left alone with nothing on base.

Well… there is König.

“Sure! I’m free this Thursday.” You say to the colonel, brimming with excitement at your newfound friendship.

The monster is pleased. It seems you’ve checked out all the boxes he’s looking for in a mate.

Tags: @itsbellaham,leslie-lemon,tapioca-marzipan,starcrossed02,manjiroxs,mr-sol,euuuuuuun,sleepyoriana,urmom-77,marriedtoeddie,sylviatherosairy,breannab2018,asmicity-writes,slutforelliewilliamss,3-kai-3,notsamaira,kenz-ee

P.S. Idk how to tag or if I did it right^^

[grntaire]

good omens is an allegory for queer deconstruction from an abusive fundamentalist religious environment.

i've talked about it on here ad nauseum, probably, but i haven't fleshed my thoughts out on it fully. this has been my interpretation since season 1, and season 2 just solidified it for me. so here goes.

it's about the choice that all queer people in an environment like this have to make, and both choices suck and end with loss.

choice 1: stay with your church community, your friends, your family, the world you've always known, but never be true to yourself. because they will never fully accept you if you are true to yourself.

choice 2: embrace your queerness, live your authentic life, and leave it all behind. you're torn from everything you've ever known, everyone you've ever loved. but it's what you have to do to be happy. aziraphale is stuck between choices. crowley never had a choice. his was made for him.

heaven are the church elders. the protectors. the ones who say they have your and god's best interest in mind, always. they don't. to them, hell are the blasphemers, who are both unworthy of redemption yet can only be saved by it. they are the arbiters of what is good and right and bad and wrong.

aziraphale's story is one of both learned faith and earned faith. learned, in that he's been indoctrinated his whole life. been to church at least twice a week since birth. earned, in that he's seen the good that the church can do–they feed the hungry, shelter the unhoused. how could people who do such good be capable of cruelty? and surely, when they are cruel, there must be some greater good to come out of it?

crowley was faithful once, too. he loved god. loved church. but he knew he was queer from a young age, and asked questions about it. not because he wanted to make trouble, but because he wanted to understand. to understand why something he knew about himself to be so innately true could be wrong. but the church didn't see it as that–they saw the embodiment of sin, questioning them. their authority, their virtuosity, the fibre of what holds their organization together, and he was cast out. was kicked out of his home, alienated from his family, his friends, his community. he fell. and he now sees the church for what it truly is.

as for aziraphale, he's accepted the fact that he's queer, but had faith that his elders had his best interest at heart when they spewed homophobic ideology. he never believed the ideology, not really, but he had to believe (made himself believe) that the people who spread it meant well. that they meant it out of kindness, out of protecting queer people from damnation. he wanted to believe that not everyone in the church was like this, that not everyone in the church thought all queer people are inherently people of sin. that is, until a mentor, someone he trusts, perpetuates it too. he's had moments in his past that chipped away at his faith: he'd stayed friends, or whatever you want to call it, with crowley, and crowley had tempted him into trying new things that the church wouldn't approve of. things that aziraphale loved. but this moment with his mentor is when his faith is truly shaken. it's the beginning of his active deconstruction.

and so he leaves. he leaves and finds crowley and they build a semblance of a life together with what they have. they're happy. he's learning that he doesn't need to go to church to be holy. that he doesn't need to be holy to be happy. that he's allowed to indulge in the things he loves without guilt and shame.

that is, until that mentor shows up at his doorstep, offering him everything he's ever wanted. insinuates that he knows him and crowley aren't just friends, and assures him that they can come back to church together. that they're going to change things in the church, and that aziraphale can help. that they need aziraphale to help. (they don't. they want a pious gayboy to help repair their image. it's performative activism at its finest). aziraphale is being offered his family, his community, everything back, and crowley can come too. preying on his wants and desires, manipulating him back into their control. so of course he says yes. they'll get to be together with everything they've ever known and aziraphale doesn't have to make a choice between losses anymore. (deconstruction isn't linear, and abuse is cyclical.)

but crowley makes it for him. crowley tells him no. he doesn't want that life and doesn't want to go back to those people who hate him so much. who hate them so much. crowley knows what the church is about and sees it for what it is. they're not about god, or moral good or doing what's right. all they want is control. it's about the optics of the organization. it's about influencing what serves them and their agenda, and crowley knows that aziraphale is just a pawn to them. ("Why would we go back to them, when they think that who we are is wrong? Is vile? They think us the embodiment of sin and you want to go help them with their PR campaign?")

but aziraphale doesn't know that, can't know it, and crowley can't make him see it. (aziraphale knows that they cast crowley out, that he was kicked out of his home. crowley never shared with him about what happened after. the nights on the street, the things he'd endured to survive.)

and so crowley kisses him. he kisses him to tell him not that he loves him, because of course he does. he kisses him to tell him "This is what you leave behind. We would never be able to do this there, to be this there, even if they say we could. Our lives are here, our safety is here. this is what you're giving up."

crowley has been through it and experienced their cruelty firsthand. aziraphale won't be able to see it until he experiences it, too. he won't be able to realize he's being played if he doesn't even know that there's a game happening in the first place.

i can't recommend watching the show through this lens enough. it makes aziraphale's story that much more heartbreaking, because there's this intense duality of indoctrination vs. deconstruction that lives within him constantly. (imo it's also the main difference between book aziraphale and tv aziraphale: book aziraphale is significantly further along in his deconstruction journey. it's why he's a bit more of a bastard. tv aziraphale is set back a bit further, which sets up his deconstruction arc beautifully across three seasons.)

it's why aziraphale has the ability to peel back layers of himself and his train of thought depending on the situation at hand–he literally has two trains of thought happening at once. the indoctrinated one, and the deconstructed one.

and when crowley kisses him, it's the first time in his existence that both trains of thought have been that present simultaneously. it's both trains colliding full speed with each other. it's why we see both livid, hesitant frustration and fierce passion and longing at once. it forced him to confront something that lived so deeply within himself that he wanted to bring to light on his own terms, but crowley was desperate. the kiss wasn't i love you, please stay. it was look at what you're leaving behind. we could've been us, we could've been this.

and i think that whatever happens in season 3, whatever heaven does that makes them finally irredeemable in aziraphale's eyes, it'll be a beautiful ending to his deconstruction arc. not that deconstruction ever ends, not truly, but for the first time in his existence, he'll be able to see heaven, hell, and the system as a whole clearly for what they are: a bunch of self-righteous dicks.

[if you're curious about religious deconstruction and what it means, this video by therapist and social worker mickey atkins talking about deconstruction in reference to shiny happy people, a documentary about the duggar family, is a good place to start. cw for pretty much all types of abuse imaginable, fyi.]

[navstuffs]

Tag, you are on it!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Summary: Miguel finds you and Gabriella playing on the backyard. Based on the comic Tag - Pixie and Brutus by @pet_foolery

Warning tags: domestic bliss, fluff, happiness, feel good type, my bad attempt on writing comedy lol

Author's Notes: after being obsessed with this man over a year, i finally joined the fandom (its never too late i guess). hope you enjoy your reading!

Miguel arrives home exhausted from work, taking off his coat and loosening his tie. What an awful day! Between deadlines not being respected and useless meetings taking far too long, Miguel had to stay late to finish a sudden important project. He was fortunate enough to have you pick Gabriella up from school. 

You met Gabriella after five months of dating Miguel(and almost two years of knowing each other). "A friend," Miguel explained the first time you met, nervous about his little girl's reaction—a sentiment you also shared, way more desperate for her approval. 

Everything went so well; even Miguel felt a little jealous of you, watching his daughter gravitate in your personal space the entire night. Especially when, before you left, he noticed Gabriella waving so you could kneel on her level. She covered your ears with her small hands, whispering as you nodded. Miguel observed quite anxiously, his eyes focused on any reaction. You just opened an enigmatic smirk as if you were teasing him that you could win his daughter so quickly.

Three months after this, Gabriella suddenly asked on a Saturday morning why you hadn't moved in yet, almost causing Miguel to drop the breakfast plate with scrambled eggs he had prepared. You and Miguel tried to explain that you still haven't talked about it yet, and adults can be complicated sometimes. 

Besides being Gabriella's new favorite play partner, Miguel hadn't tried to insert you into their daily routine. Not because he didn't trust you, just...Miguel just had to take things slower. His main priority would always be Gabriella, her well-being and happiness. Inserting you into their routine would make it hard for both if you and him didn't work out. And you agreed, understanding as you always were: Gabriella should always be the top priority. 

As it happened on one of your previous dates when the nanny called, informing Gabriella had gotten a sudden fever and had puked once. You urged Miguel to leave, telling him you would solve everything at the restaurant. Miguel was so surprised when you appeared in the house thirty minutes late, still dressed in your date clothes, with anxious eyes on the little girl in his arms. You stayed that night, ensuring to leave only after Gabriella's fever got down as she slept in your arms - when she heard your voice, she opened her arms begging for you to hold her.

Gabriella was already too attached, and Miguel was too much in love. That's why he was still unsure when he asked you to pick her up. 

When Miguel hears Gabriella's giggle from the backyard, his heart instantly warms. Your capacity to make her laugh made him jealous before. Now, it only makes him fall in love with you even harder. To think there was ever a time Miguel was terrified of what would happen if Gabriella didn't like you. 

He follows his favorite sound in the world, his body relaxing. You two seem to be playing tag: Gabriella never seems to catch you, but she doesn't seem to mind just having fun as you run away in the middle of his vast backyard, both barefoot. Miguel slowly joins his daughter, kneeling on her side as she hugs him tightly, all sweaty. "Papi! We are playing a tag game." 

"I noticed." 

"I don't seem to be able to tag back, though," Gabriella replies, confused in her innocence. As if she could with her small legs. You are still turned around from them, probably catching your breath, unaware of Miguel's presence yet. An idea pops on his mind.

"Tag me." 

"What?" 

"Tag me." Miguel offers his hand, opening a smile. Gabriella opens a big grin, tagging him.

"So, have you given up, Gabi?" You, still in the middle of the backyard, turn around with a playful smile. It completely disappears from your face as you watch Gabriella tag Miguel instead, your boyfriend slowly raising. A dangerous smile on his lips warning you to run.  

You only have one second to react, too slow already, as Miguel starts sprinting in your direction as Gabriella encourages him, excited. Your lungs complain as you run away from him, feeling Miguel hot at your heels. It is the only time you will probably curse his long and strong legs.

You give a quick look over your shoulder, panicking. Miguel has that intense, wild look in his eyes, the one you see when he is determined to get what he wants: to get you. You ignore how your body feels and wonder if you shouldn't just jump in the pool (what a joke, Miguel was a great swimmer as well). 

"Behind you." It is the last thing you hear before Miguel pounces on you, managing to do it gently to a round of cheers from Gabriella. 

You both fall to the floor, and Miguel turns you around with a frown. "Were you going to jump in the pool?" 

"Who, me? Nooo. So you could swim and catch me?!" 

"Liar! You were about to jump in the pool!"

"As a distraction, only! You would have jumped straight after me anyway."

"Oh, I would have." He is serious, you know that.

With his body thoroughly pressed against yours, you hug him, "Missed you. How was work?" 

“Terrible. As always.”

"As always." You agree, watching his expression change. Miguel suddenly becomes aware of how your body is pressed against his, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. He tries to get away from you, but you don't let him, your arms locking him down, a malicious smile on your face.

"Don't…"

"I am not doing anything." 

"Not in front of-"

"Miguel, I am not doing anything!" You giggle, the sensation of a victory spreading against your chest. "You know, I wouldn't do anything in front of-"

You both look toward where Gabriela was standing before to find nothing there. Before you two can even untangle, Gabriella jumps on her father's back, startling you both. 

"Tag!" 

She immediately jumps away, giggling as she runs inside the house. Miguel sighs, not before your hand cups his cheek so you can look at him. "I will keep her company. It is fine."

"I don't want to impose-" 

"Miguel, it is not an imposition. She likes me better anyway."

Miguel gets up from the floor, helping you stand as you watch Gabriella hide behind the sofa, her messy hair and eyes peeking out.

"Are you going to…stay?" Miguel wonders, his tone soft. 

"Of course I will. Maybe we can repeat this tag game after Gabriella is asleep?" You offer, bluntly teasing him. "With much less clothes."

You smirk, watching Miguel's mouth drop open. Gabriella calls your name again and you give him a peck on the cheek, before running away to her direction. 

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

Angel Pt.3

Charlie Swan x f!reader

A/N: This was in the drafts a loooooong time and I'm so sorry for that!

Summary: You and Charlie have a weekend away in Seattle.

Warnings: (smut, blowjob, p in v, cunnilingus, overall nastiness and degeneracy)

Word Count: 7.1k

Helen had become a little more than a coworker to you. She was one of the only people who kept her opinion of you and Charlie’s age gap to herself. If you had to guess you figured she didn’t really care, probably because she has a life. Either way, it was a nice change of pace from the judgemental stares you got around town. Though if you were with Charlie they somehow turned into smiles.

At first, you two tried your best to keep things between you two, and Helen. Date nights were usually in Port Angeles on weeknights to minimize run-ins. The only place in town you two would go to was the diner, and even the folks of Forks had deemed that to be insufficient evidence. All good things come to an end though, the pair of you were caught when Charlie got a little handsy while walking you to your door. 

For some reason, your nosey neighbor Miss Daphne had to choose that moment to go ‘check’ her mail. You had the sneaking suspicion she saw Charlie’s cruiser and decided to spy on you herself. After all, she was the same nosey bitch that ratted you out to your parents for sneaking out to go party on the rez. The scandalized gasp that left her mouth was exaggerated but it did do the job of separating you and Charlie. 

There was no denying what you two were when he had your red lipstick smeared all over his mouth. She spared no time spreading that gossip like wildfire. Your mother came to tell you the ridiculous rumor she heard and you had to tell her you were dating the Chief of Police. For 3 months. She very obviously didn’t approve however she never said that directly to you. 

Tension was thick in your house and Charlie wanted you to come over so he could cook you dinner. He said Bella was going out with Edward and his family. Of course it was steak, potatoes, and green beans but it really was good. After dinner you made Charlie sit down while you did the dishes. 

When you joined him on the couch his attention was no longer on the game. His hand inched its way up your thigh and brought his lips down to your neck. You called out his name like you were out of breath and he knew he had you wrapped around his finger. Turns out the Chief of Police was so grumpy because of pent-up energy. His mustache tickling your neck was the last straw before you turned your head to meet his lips. 

Charlie’s tongue parted your lips to explore your mouth. You tilted your head wanting to feel all of him. His body caged you and he used his weight to pin you down. It took no time for your legs to part and give him easy access, and he followed your lead and pressed his crotch into yours. Once he heard you making those pretty sounds he began to unbutton your shorts. 

Of all the times for Bella to get in a fight with Edward and come home early, now is the most inconvenient. When she burst through the door there was no time to cover up what you two were doing, but the 17-year-old already caught her dad dry-humping his girlfriend on the couch. The countless strings of “Oh my God” all the way to her bedroom followed by a slammed door told you everything. Needless to say, the mood was ruined but you stayed until the end of the game. 

On the way back to your house Charlie had told you he was stealing you away for a weekend of no interruptions. You appreciate the gesture and move your hand to rub the back of his neck as he drives. The heavy sigh that leaves his mouth at your petting lets you know it’s working.

You figured he was thinking of taking you up to a bed and breakfast in Port Angeles. 

“As long as I get to spend time with you.” Your offhand comment had his tummy fluttering like he was 16 again. He could feel the three words sitting in his throat. Not wanting to make the same mistakes twice, he decides to swallow them down in favor of taking things slow with you.

He never quite mastered how to be sentimental, Charlie dreaded having those kinds of conversations. 

“You know I care for you right?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I know I can be a bit standoffish.” 

“I would much rather be with someone who says they love me through their actions. Too many people talk a big game.” You hate how much Charlie seemingly doubts himself in his relationships. No doubt it was because of Bella’s mother. 

Everyone heard about what happened, they married just as quickly as they divorced. The fact that she did it while his parents were ailing was just another nasty nail in the coffin. From the corner of your eye, you see Charlie turn his head your way, your words touch him. 

The familiar street lined with houses you’ve passed a million times comes quicker than you’d like. When Charlie puts the cruiser in park neither of you move to get out. You turn your body to look at him while still playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. 

“Do you think we scarred Bella for life?” You figured she knew about you two but to see it live was a different story.

“Oh please, I’m sure she and Edward,” Charlie drags his name with an eye roll before continuing, “have gotten up to much worse at his house.” 

His disdain for his daughter's first boyfriend is not only funny but somewhat ironic. Although it’s a little immature you understand why he’s so protective of his only daughter.

“What should I pack for this getaway?” Before he can give you a bullshit answer you raise your finger and emphasize, “Don’t tell me anything is fine because it’s not.”

Charlie folds his lips into his mouth to stop himself from smiling. To him, it doesn’t matter he wouldn’t complain about seeing you in anything. 

“Alright, one fancy outfit for dinner, a couple casual outfits, a swimsuit, and comfortable shoes. Everything else is up to your discretion.” His guide was simple enough but the swimsuit part caught you off guard. 

“See how easy that was?” You tease him.

“Mhm looks like it’s past your curfew.” Charlie’s line of vision leads to your lit porch. The window next to the front door has a visible split in the blinds, presumably by your mother. 

“Goodnight.” You turn to face Charlie.

“Night baby.” He gives you a quick peck on the lips before you head towards your house. 

The blinds quickly go back in place as you near the front door and your mother opens the door for you to come in. But not before she waves at Charlie. You step through the threshold and have no idea what to expect.

“Looks like you two are getting serious huh?” As well as you know your mother she doesn’t give anything away. 

“It’s getting there.” The two of you stand in front of each other in the low light of the foyer.

“Do you really see a future with him?” The air around you becomes thick at her apparent disapproval. “Honey, I just want what’s best for you and I don’t think it’s with a man almost as old as your father.”

“Thinking and worrying about my future is what got me here. Constantly trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations of me was suffocating.” Your voice becomes hostile in defense of Charlie.

“And you think running around town with Charlie Swan of all people is gonna help?” This conversation is slowly eviscerating any contentment you were feeling with Charlie. 

“I have no idea but he’s the only person that doesn’t make me feel like a disappointment.” Though your parents said they would always support you, you know they had higher aspirations for you. “I’m gonna head to bed.” Your teary eyes were aimed at the house slippers your mom had on. 

With no response, you turn to make your way to your room leaving her at the bottom of the steps. All the progress you thought you’d made these past months feels futile. Even worse, your mother is probably right, there isn’t a future between you and Charlie. Everyone else sees it but you two. 

Pulling your suitcase down you try to focus on the present and enjoy what you two have. Soon enough your mood picks up when you mentally go through the packing list Charlie gave you. The trip wasn’t for another couple days but excitement around a weekend getaway had your suitcase sitting in the corner with your travel outfit laid on top. 

………

There aren’t many times you’ve woken up happy, but the morning of your trip was the exception to that rule. You woke before your alarm was set to go off if only for five minutes. While checking your phone you see two messages from Charlie.

Remember we leave at 5:30 sharp! - 4:55 am

I mean it. - 5:00 am

Lucky for him your excitement is aiding in your punctuality. 

Sir yes, sir! 5:30 sharp. - 5:03

You laughed at your joke before pulling on leggings and a tank top. In your bathroom, you wash your face to get you alert. After you brush your teeth you pack the rest of your essentials into your suitcase and zip it up. With everything put up, you double-check you aren’t missing anything important. 

Your black zip-up hoodie lays on the edge of your bed before you put it on and take care of your hair. The familiar sound of your ringtone fills the silence in your bedroom and you flip it open to see Charlie’s name across the screen. 

“Hello Sergeant,” You greet him in a frigid voice and you can feel the eye-roll through the phone. 

“At ease soldier, I’m down the street and I’m praying you’re ready to go.” You can hear the desperation in his voice.

“You’ll be happy to know that I am ready.”  Although he can’t see, you smile from ear to ear. 

He tries to mumble but you hear the “Thank God” through the phone. With the roll of your eyes, you snap your phone shut and begin lugging your suitcase downstairs. At the bottom, you see a dim light from the kitchen and you have a feeling it's your mother. She pokes her head out to see you and surprises you by approaching. 

“Leaving already?” She takes a sip of coffee while keeping her eyes on you.

“Yeah, Charlie’s down the street.” Awkward isn’t a deep enough word to describe how this interaction feels. 

“Well have fun,” She wants to say something else so you pretend to be busy yourself to make it easier. “Maybe Charlie could come over for dinner sometime.” 

The subtle longing in her eyes tells you she doesn’t like the way last night's conversation went more than you do. This is her way of extending an olive branch and you eagerly take it. 

“That sounds nice-” A heavy knock sounds at the door and you quickly hug your mother before answering. 

Charlie smiles down at you before seeing your mother standing a few feet away. He clears his throat and steps inside your foyer. 

“Morning Stef,” Your mother nods with a small smile in return. “These your only bags?” He flicks his head at your suitcase and purse.

You tell him yes and watch as he slings your purse over his shoulder then grabs your suitcase to take to his car. You glance back one last time to smile at your mom before heading out the door. Charlie’s already at the passenger door waiting for you to climb in. As always you thank him with that pretty smile and he feels heat pool in his belly. You relax in your seat while he begins pulling back out onto the street. 

“If we were going to Port Angeles why’d we have to get up so early?” It was only about an hour away so you were confused about why leaving early is so important. 

“We’re not going to Port Angeles,” Charlie’s words confuse you more but he doesn’t elaborate.

No matter how much you glare at the side of his handsome face he doesn’t pay you any mind. All he does is place his right hand on the inside of your thigh. 

……….

At this point, you’ve been in the car for over two hours and you’re getting antsy. The radio’s boring, Charlie isn’t talking, and your book is in the trunk with your bags. Just as you’re about to bug him about how much longer you see the familiar port booths. He’s taking you to Seattle for the weekend. 

The gasp that leaves your lips gives you away and he finally looks over at you with a smile. He puts the car in park before getting out to get the bags, and you focus on stretching your legs. When he approaches with all the bags you wrap your arms around his neck to pepper kisses all over his face. As annoyed as he acts, Charlie finds your affection refreshing and he pats your butt. 

“Baby we gotta get on the boat.” His reminder warms your cheeks and you remember you’re in public. 

With one more kiss you take your purse since Charlie insists on rolling the suitcases. He makes sure to dig out the ticket from his jacket pocket while the two of you are in line. The moment you two are through boarding you grab onto his bicep like it’s a life-vest.

“You know I would’ve had fun in a bed & breakfast but this is so much better, Char.” The excitement rolls off of you in waves that reach Charlie.

A large smile and a kiss on the forehead is all he replies with. In his mind, he pats himself on the back for making you this happy. The place he booked with is one of the fancy five-star hotels that you barely want to leave. He couldn’t wait to see your face when you saw it. 

The whole ferry ride you stayed inside, unwilling to risk getting a cold from the whipping winds outside. Ultimately you end up reading the book in your purse when Charlie falls asleep ten minutes into the journey. It was only a thirty-minute ferry. 

…………..

The familiar sounds of horns and commotion floated to your ears the second you stepped off the boat. Refreshing as it is to hear you can’t say you miss it too much. Charlie guides you along with him when he picks up your bags, the smile on your face is unmatched. 

“The hotel is a few blocks from here if you don’t mind walking.” He pulls out a marked-up map and you can’t help the giggle that comes out. 

“Sounds good to me.” You quickly take the handle of your suitcase before Charlie tries to lug both. 

He fixes you with a look but tells you the direction you’re heading in. His red flannel suits him , especially today, and all you can do is visually follow his lead. The mumbles piling out of his mouth don’t register to you. After almost a full mile a fancy hotel pops up to your right and you’re in awe. The bottom level is decked out in glass and cars come up to a valet. 

“That’s us,” Your head swivels in his direction quickly at his omission. 

Warm air engulfs you when you walk in the revolving glass doors of the main lobby. The white marble tile reflecting the crystal chandeliers makes it brighter despite the time of year. Once you arrive at the desk Charlie handles logistics and your turn around to take in your surroundings. 

Velvet couches and flowers permeate the area, not that you mind. It somehow reminds you of your grandmother's living room. Suddenly a room key appears in your vision and you realize it’s yours. 

“I got us a suite.” The way you look at him makes his heart beat out of his chest. 

“Lead the way, Sergeant.” Your low voice excites him and he almost forgets you’re in the lobby. Instead, he nods his head in the direction of the special elevators before taking off. 

He places his keycard into the slot and he hears the elevator making its way down. As the door opened he let out a sigh of relief since you two would be the only ones in it. 

“How long have you had this planned?” You snuggle up next to him in the elevator after it takes off. 

“A few weeks, certain events sped up the process though.” He’s glad that you’re enjoying yourself so far, that’s all he wants.

The short walk from the elevator has your heart pounding, this is the first trip you two are taking as a couple. You were nervous. Charlie slid the key into the slot and opened the door to a mini apartment. The living room was in view from the door and you walked further into the room abandoning your suitcase. 

You noted the hotel art and standard desktop before making your way into the bedroom. A king bed awaited you with a breathtaking view of the city. The skyline would come to life in a few hours but it was still beautiful to see. Arms wrapped themselves around your waist while you were still looking out the window. 

“That’s not all you know.” His voice next to your ear sends a shiver down your spine but you follow him out onto a balcony. As if the suite couldn’t get better there’s a hot tub on the deck and you realize why he told you to pack a swimsuit. 

While you’re taking in the scenery Charlie sets up the hot tub for use. Since it’s still early morning wind is nipping at your skin but it could be worse. The moment you hear the thrum of the mechanics come to life, you give a sly smirk in his direction. 

You walk across the deck to get close to him before asking, “How long ‘til it’s ready?” 

“About twenty minutes.” He keeps his voice low while peering down at you with hunger. 

You waste no time before slanting your lips against his eagerly. His nose presses against yours before he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. Your tongue licks into his mouth and the groan that leaves his lips is sinful. Even though you don’t want to, you pull away. 

“I should change.” You rub your hands down his chest before hurrying inside with a massive smile. 

Your suitcase sits at the entrance and you quickly grab it and head into the bathroom to touch up. Quickly, you strip out of your road trip clothes and begin to raffle through your suitcase for your two-piece. A white, minuscule bikini finds its way into your eyesight and you waste no time putting it on. 

You place your hair up in a clip before walking back out with your suitcase beside you. Charlie is on the phone in the living room and you place one of the complementary robes on you. When you join him in the living room you realize he’s ordering food so you take a seat on the couch. 

Only now do you grasp that you haven’t eaten a proper meal yet. 

Charlie’s back faces you and all you can think about is the expanse of his shoulders stretching the material of his flannel.  You’re so distracted you don’t realize he’s hanging the phone on the hook before turning to you. He states that room service should be here soon and that he’s going to get changed. 

In the meantime, you retrieve your book from your purse and return to the couch with your legs tucked. The intricacies of your murder mystery keep you so occupied you lose track of time until a knock sounds at the door. When you look through the peephole a uniformed man is standing next to a cart. 

You let him in and he leaves a huge platter of breakfast stuff and a bottle of champagne in his wake. Fruits, omelets, and bacon fill your nose with their specific scent. The grumbling in your stomach starts and you see Charlie coming out of the bathroom. Suddenly your hunger is momentarily forgotten when you see his robe fully open with swim trunks as his only article of clothing. 

“That was quick,” He immediately transfers the food from the cart to the table in front of the couch for easier access. 

The food didn’t stand a chance and not even five minutes later the two of you ate everything edible. Charlie rocks forward to stand up and heads back over to the cart to gather the glasses and champagne. 

“You ready?” An uncharacteristic wide grin stretches his face and you mirror one back before getting up to follow him. 

“This view is amazing Charlie.” You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in the back of his fluffy robe. He moves to place the glasses and bottle on the table next to the hot tub before turning in your arms. 

“Anything for you Angel.” His lips are next to your ear and you playfully push him back. 

“Alright, I need to get in the water before my toes freeze.” You wiggle your toes for dramatic effect. 

He takes the cover off and steam rises through the air as the water bubbles furiously. He rolls up his sleeve to check the temperature of the water. The moment Charlie shrugs off his robe to go in you zero in on his form, for a man his age he’s in exceptional shape. He sits back carefully in front of the jets before letting out a groan of satisfaction. While he stretches his arms he raises an eyebrow at your clothed body. 

Wasting no time you untie your robe and leave it on the patio chair before tip-toeing your way to the steps. The heat of Charlie's gaze sears into you, his eyes lock onto the barely-there material clinging to your body.  He feels the blood rushing below his waist but he can’t stop looking at the small triangle top and your hard nipples. The thong bottoms aren’t much better either. 

“Jesus,” You smile in satisfaction at how he’s openly gaping at you. Mission accomplished. 

“So you like it?” You play coy while wading over to where he sits. 

“A little too much I think.” He places his hands on your hips, gently rubbing his thumb on the skinny string wrapping along your side. You lift your knee onto the bench lining the hot tub to straddle Charlie’s lap. Your nails find themselves running over the hair along his chest. 

“I hoped you would.” Your voice turns to a husky whisper as you look into his dark eyes. 

His blunt nails dig into your hips and revel in the effect you have on him. This time he brings his lips to yours, slowly savoring your lips on him. Usually, when the two of you are together you don’t have uninterrupted privacy, and damn if he doesn’t make the most of it. Nothing is on your mind besides the feel of his body against yours. 

Your hands find themselves running down his chest and past his happy trail to dip into his swim trunks. After feeling your hands grip him the languid kiss turns heavy fast. His mustache tickles  your upper lip while you stroke him underwater. You feel him take slight pauses in your kiss to take small but deep breaths.

His hands move up from your hips to untie the back of your bikini sending a flutter through you. The string tied around your neck barely stays together so he flings it to the side. Charlie’s hands squeeze your breasts before lightly pinching your nipples causing an involuntary buck of your hips. 

His swim trunks do very little to hide how much he’s working with. You take advantage of the thin material and slightly rock your hips over him. A hiss leaves your mouth at how good dragging yourself along his cock feels. You arch your back, pushing your breasts further into his golden touch. The kiss is sloppier than ever but your mind only focuses on maintaining your movements. 

“Sit on the edge.” Charlie’s lust-filled eyes stare back at you as he pulls away. He stands you up, a pronounced tent is now poking at your stomach. The cold air bites at your hips so he slides your bottoms down until you can safely step out of them. Wind combs over your body yet you don’t feel a chill.

Thankfully the two of you were high enough up that most people wouldn’t see anything. The balcony railing was a solid gray that stood over five feet so Charlie wasn’t worried about anyone witnessing. You lean against the railing as he spreads your knees apart. This time you at least trimmed the edges of your bush but mostly kept it intact.

Charlie immediately goes to kiss his way up your thighs, but you need more. You feel squeamish from the way he works himself up your body. Patience was never a virtue you possessed.

“Baby please,” The desperation in your voice is prevalent and Charlie understands. 

The backs of your knees are supported with his hands while he licks at your folds. The moment his lips circle your clit you waste no time arching your back to meet him for more. He looks up at you for his favorite sight, and he isn’t disappointed. Your head is thrown back, and your knuckles white from gripping the tub’s edge.  

Charlie’s dark eyes are fixated on you, there’s nothing decent about the way he’s mouthing your cunt. He sees the rapid rise and fall of your beautiful chest and he wishes he could suck on your pretty tits. Your jaw remains dropped at the way he skillfully pulls any noise out of you. Your hands find themselves tangled in his hair while your hips continuously buck into his mouth. 

Charlie takes it all in stride knowing that he’s the one making you lose control. His lower face is wet with your essence and he wouldn’t have it any other way. The railing behind you works to hold your body up while your spine turns to jelly. His tongue circles around your clit once and you know you’re done for. Heat spreads across your body through your core. 

There is no better feeling than your thighs clamping around his head. Sadly you loosen your hands from his hair so he eases himself off of you. Charlie begins to help you stand, the warm water only makes your pilant body want to rest. Suddenly you’re swept off your feet by Charlie and he takes you to the bathroom. He seats you on the toilet before running to go back out to the balcony, seemingly to turn off the hot tub and retrieve your bikini. 

When he steps back in the bathroom he has a glass of water for you and he goes to turn on the shower. You gulp down the water not realizing how much of your energy was depleted. 

“Thank you Char,” You huff out with drops of water falling from each side of your mouth. 

Charlie doesn’t say anything except rubbing his thumb along your cheek with a small smile. 

“Come on, let's get you in the shower.” You place your empty glass on the counter and make your way inside the steamy glass shower. You notice Charlie isn’t following you. 

“You’re not coming in with me?” Your question has him pausing at the doorway. “Please Charlie, what if I slip and fall?” 

With a roll of his eyes, he turns around and drops his trunks on the floor before joining you. “Better?” His lips nibble on the top of your ear as he drags his hands down your body. 

“Mhmm,” The hot water cascades down the front of you while Charlie stands behind you feeling you up. His hands squeeze and massage your tits while he kisses your neck. 

As much as you love the way he’s making you feel, you turn around and gently push him towards the back wall. Slowly you drop to your knees while gripping his thighs for stability. The moment you look up at him through your lashes you can see the way his chest heaves. His cock is hard and aching as evidenced by the pre-cum dripping from his red tip. 

You lick it away and see Charlie’s fisted knuckles turn white from anticipation. Deciding to take the high road, you suck his tip into your warm mouth and let your tongue flick around him. His sharp intake of breath assures you he wants more. You purposefully circle your tongue down his shaft, making sure to twist your head each time you go down further. 

His hips gently rock into your sinful mouth, loving the way you so eagerly take him. 

“Feel so good Angel,” His whiny voice only spur you on to take him deeper until your nose is nuzzled in his pubic hair. Immediately you feel his hands tangle in your hair while steadily pumping into your mouth.

You push against his thighs for a break and watch the string of spit coming from your mouth connect to his tip. After a deep breath you go back for more despite the tears in your eyes. His hands welcome you once again as you bob your head over his length. Your mouth is so full you feel him twitch. 

His low grunts turn into huffs of air. All you can see when you look up at him is his Adam’s apple bobbing. The state of him only spurs you on and you hollow out your cheeks. A surprised gasp is the only warning you get before his load shoots down your throat in spurts. You ease off of him and feel the last of his cum on your lips before licking it off. 

Once again Charlie stands you up and kisses you, the both of you can taste the remnants of each other on your lips. A quick clean-up is all either of you has energy for before drying off and taking a long-awaited nap on the bed. 

…………….

Upon waking up, you remember the bottle of champagne still hadn’t been used. You grab your robe and quickly bring it back in before fetching some ice from the vending machine. By the time you make it back to the room, you see Charlie half awake and sprawled all over your side of the bed. 

Instead of forcing him to move you discard your robe before laying over him. 

“So what’s next?” Your arms are crossed and you lay your head in the crook of your elbow. 

“Jesus woman,” A heavy sigh leaves Charlie’s lips while he pinches the bridge of his nose. “If I could get five more minutes of sleep, I thought we could do some exploring before dinner.” 

“And by five minutes you mean another hour?” You side-eye him knowing you’d be on your own for a while. 

“You know me so well baby.” With that, he shut his eyes and you get off of him to put on some lounge clothes. 

Since you were left to your own devices you don’t see a problem drinking the champagne by yourself. With your sweatsuit on you dig in your bag to find your iPod and headphones before heading out with the champagne. 

Stepping back out onto the balcony it wasn’t as chilly as before, probably because you have on actual clothes. The traffic noise from below was now drowned out by Britney Spears. You put your knowledge of opening champagne to use and it doesn’t turn out bad, since you weren’t injured. 

While sipping from the bottle you took in the way the slight sunlight hit the bay and illuminated the dark waters. At the same time when you turn your head to the right you have a solid view of the famous skyline. Charlie booked a place with the best of both worlds. But you found yourself drawn to the streets below, trying to see what places you’d end up dragging Charlie into. 

…………..

Charlie rouses from his nap and checks the room to find you. He gets up to put on his sweatpants so he can check outside. A smile cracks his face when he finds you sprawled out on the lawn chair, with an empty champagne bottle next to you. 

Although he had plans to go sightseeing with you before dinner, it looked like you two would lounge until then. He transfers you over to bed before getting in with you. The TV had a few movies for rent so Charlie picked action for him and a rom-com for you. 

“What time is it?” You don’t move from the comfortable position Charlie must’ve placed you in. 

“Almost time for me to call Bella.” He has his reading glasses on as he sits against the headboard.

“What are you watching?” You slide to his side and prop your leg over his.

“That Impossible movie I missed.” 

“You mean Mission Impossible?” You barely finish asking the question before you’re laughing.

You know what I mean, that’s what matters.” He grumbles at you and a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. 

He’s not wrong so you lay your head on his chest, rubbing on his belly. 

……………

The steakhouse Charlie made reservations for is dimmer than outside. Polished wood glistens off the lanterns scattered around the place. It had been so long since you saw this many tables in one restaurant. Even though there is an indiscernible amount of tables, the noise is subdued. And the cherry on top of the sundae is that you and Charlie don’t have to play coy tonight. 

“I didn’t think you owned a suit.” Your thumb rubbed up and down his jacket in amazement. 

“I own a tux too, I just haven’t had good enough reasons to wear 'em’.” Charlie winks at you.

Your hostess starts the path to your table which seems situated in the back. To your surprise she’s led you into a private room for two with sliding doors. “Enjoy your meal.” 

“If you keep this up you’ll never get rid of me.” He wasn’t getting rid of you either way. 

“Why would I want that Angel?” He heads to your chair pulling it out. 

“You do have it pretty good huh?” You narrow your eyes playfully at him as you sit down. 

“Better than pretty good.” At his words your thighs clench. It hadn’t been five minutes in and you were ready for him again.

Charlie rounds the table while you pluck through the menu but one question stays on your mind. “How’d you do all this?” 

“Talked with a travel agent and she helped me with all this.” He pauses before asking you, “Do you like everything so far?” 

“I love it, it’s almost too much. Almost.” A smile cracks Charlie’s face as he listens to you. 

He wanted the whole weekend to be special because you deserve it. He knows the gossip that circles Forks bothers you, hell it bothers him too. Some people believe the only reason he’s with you is for his mid-life crisis. 

“I uh,” He clears his throat and reaches over the table for your hand. “I want this to be special for you.”

It feels like he has more to say so you place your attention solely on him. 

“Angel, I love you and maybe I’m jumping the gun here-” Charlie’s would-be rant is interrupted by you leaning over the table to kiss him. His mustache tickles your top lip and you can’t help but giggle. 

“I love you, Sargent.” A breathless whisper leaves your lips. 

“Should I come back later?” Your waiter is parked in the entrance of your private room. 

“No, we’re ready.” You wipe some lipstick off your date’s mouth before sitting down.

Although you thought you were prepared to enjoy whatever time you could get with Charlie, you know better. The fact that he did all this almost made your eyes water. There’s no one you could see yourself happier with, and you don’t care how short-sided that sounds.

Dinner sails by and it feels like you two are in a different world. It feels like only a few minutes between each course. For the first time in what feels like forever, Charlie feels that familiar ball of warmth settling in his stomach. He could listen to you complain about The Notebook all night. 

…………..

The ladies at reception smile at your boyfriend carrying you through the lobby. Heat fills your face even though you begged him to do it. You thought it would be nice to walk back but he knew better. Of course you didn’t listen and Charlie has had you in his arms for over fifteen minutes. Not that he’s complaining, too much. 

In the room, you head straight to the shower and he moves over to the bed. Football highlights are heard over the water pouring down in your shower. You want to roll your eyes but the familiarity makes you giddy. Not only did he surprise you with the best romantic getaway, he told you he loves you. 

Charlie watches you exit the bathroom and head straight for your suitcase, picking through it. Once you find whatever you’re looking for you slip right back into the bathroom. 

The emerald green lingerie you packed for this trip is simple. All the extra snaps and zippers would only annoy Charlie, instead you chose a see-through lace panty and bra. In the mirror, you put Vaseline on your lips and finish up with mascara. The perfume you brought has been sprayed and is settling on your skin. You play with your hair before deciding to rejoin Charlie in the other room. 

He is perched on the ottoman in front of your bed, jacket off and his tie hanging loosely. Sports commentary once again playing on the TV while you approach him. You sit on his lap instantly garnering his attention. 

“What’s this?” He takes advantage of your current position to trail kisses along the nape of your neck. Your answer turns into a moan when you feel Charlie’s thumb circling your clit through your lace. “You make it so hard for me to keep my hands off you.”

While he continues his torturously slow pace over your clit, he dips in your bra to roll your nipple between his fingers. Saliva pools in your mouth as he works your body like a well-tuned instrument. Your nails dig into his dress pants while your hips slowly grind into his growing bulge. Nothing pleases him more than watching you writhe in pleasure.

Charlie slides his fingers into your panties to rub your wet folds. Once his fingers become wet enough, he rubs them against your entrance. Quick airy breaths leave your mouth in time with his pace. He brings his fingers back to your bundle of nerves, fastening his rhythm.  

“Such a good girl for me,” Furiously you nod your head at his statement, unable to form the words to reply. “My beautiful Angel.” A shiver runs down your spine from his words. 

Sinful doesn’t describe the sounds filling the bedroom. A coil of tension makes itself tighter and tighter in your belly. Your pussy clenches over nothing, trying to alleviate some of the pressure. White washes over your vision when the coil finally snaps. Your mouth is open but you know there’s no sound leaving it. 

You deflate against Charlie trying to catch your breath. His rough hands caress your shoulder, letting his thumbs knead into your shoulders. “C’mon,” His lips peck your cheek as he eases you up and toward the bed. 

The moment your back hits the mattress you feel your panties coming off. Cold air hits your wet core and you instinctively bring your knees together. Charlie is right there to spread them back apart, this time he replaces his finger with his mouth. He licks into you deliciously, the remnants of your orgasm making you more sensitive. 

Seconds, minutes, or hours have passed with his head buried between your legs before he surfaces. His mustache is covered in your arousal, and you taste yourself when he slants his wet lips over yours. Hastily, he undresses himself before sliding into your already-sopping cunt. Unlike other times, he’s in no rush. Deep, loving strokes have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

Your eyes lock on Charlie’s as he’s burying himself in you. Neither of you can look away from each other. A warm fuzziness rests in your lower stomach. Even your breathing matches his and the weight of his chest against yours brings comfort. When he comes in you, proclamations of love pour out of his mouth into yours. 

……………

The rest of your trip consists of sex, eating, and sightseeing. By the time you’re packing to leave Seattle the smile on your face gets brighter every time you look at Charlie. 

“We should go out more, Helen was telling me about a pastry shop opening up in Port Angeles.” Your bright mood easily transfers to Charlie when he looks at you.

“As long as they have blueberry pie.” He throws over his shoulder while inspecting the hotel room for missing items. 

“Alright,” A loud clap follows his declaration. “Time to hit the road.”

A frown covers your face even though you know you can’t stay forever. Hair prickles your forehead before you feel his lips kiss it. “We’ll be back and we have to be back in time to pick up Bella.”

“Doesn’t Bella catch a ride from her boyfriend?” You follow him out the door toward the elevators.

“As if she doesn’t spend enough time with him.” His grumpy old man voice is back and the elevator is filled with your laughter.

“She’s a teenage girl with her first boyfriend, I’m surprised she still sees you at all.” You bump into his side with your elbow.

“I just don’t wanna lose her again.” This kid of vulnerability was becoming normal with Charlie.

“You won’t,” Confidence fills your voice because you know that could never happen. You seal it with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

[brownbearwrites]

stay here by my side (pt.3)

part one and part two, or read it on ao3

pairing: atwow!neteyam x omatikaya!reader word count: 1.4k neteyam and the reader make their way back to the village, knowing that they'll have to explain their disappearance to Jake and Neytiri notes: remember how I said that this would be a shorter chapter? yeah, that didn't happen. I'm not entirely pleased with the ending of this, because I feel like it reads a tad rushed. Anyway, I hope it's not too bad, and that you'll all still enjoy it!

The sun had already risen by the time you and Neteyam make your way back to the village. You hold onto his hand as the two of you weave your way through the various huts and other structures, heading straight toward the hut belonging to Neteyam’s family. You had decided, not long after waking from your dream-like state, that it would be best to break the news to them quickly. After all, they’d probably be worried sick, what with you and their son disappearing for the entire night and all. They would most certainly want an explanation for your sudden departure.

One of the camp elders notices you and Neteyam, her head swiveling to follow your movements. “Thank Eywa, they’re home safe,” you hear her mutter to herself.

You grimace at her words, glancing over to Neteyam. His lips are pursed, giving away his nerves, though the look in his eyes is nothing except resolute. You know now that your sudden disappearance had not gone unnoticed. It would have been a nice discovery if it did not also entail that Neteyam’s parents were most certainly going to give you two absolute hell over your unannounced exit. You give Neteyam’s hand a soft squeeze, finding yourself suddenly desperate for his reassuring touch.

Before long, you arrive at the Sully family’s hut. Its cloth covering is already flipped open, giving you a full view of the interior of the home. The kids are all sitting together near the very back of the space, Tuk pressed in between her older siblings. Neytiri is perched on top of a pile of woven sleeping mats, her song cord clasped tightly between her clenched fingers. Jake is pacing the length of the home, you can see that the expression on his face is thunderous, even with the way his eyes are pointed to the floor below him.

Neytiri is the first to notice you and Neteyam approaching, springing up from her seat as she does. Jake’s head snaps up, a brief look of relief flashing over his features.

“My child,” Neytiri exclaims, grabbing Neteyam by his upper arms. Her wide, panic-filled eyes scan him for signs of injury, even tugging him into a position that reveals his back to her—finding nothing out of the ordinary. With you, she thankfully forgoes the excessive physical examination, seemingly content with just a scanning look.

“Out!” Jake commands his younger children, the three of them scrambling to stand up to leave the hut. Kiri shoots you a knowing look over her shoulder as she steps outside, following behind Lo’ak and Tuk.

“What the hell were you two thinking?” Jake exclaims from where he’s now taken up position beside his wife. “You both know it is not safe out there. I told you to stick by the camp, just like I told you to only leave with approved supervision. And still, you disappear to god knows wherever all night, without telling anyone!”.

Neteyam’s eyes meet his father’s, neither of them willing to back down and be the first to break the eye contact once it has been made. Meanwhile, Neytiri’s eyes flick from her son’s face to her husband’s, before landing on you.

“I know that what I did was wrong, sir,” you hear Neteyam challenge his father, “but you have to understand that I had a good reason for my actions. I wouldn’t have disobeyed your orders otherwise”.

“A good reason?” Jake shouts, “I sure hope it’s good—it could’ve gotten you both killed!” he continues his angry raving.

Neytiri’s eyes feel like they’re burning a hole into your face, the intensity of her look is almost palpable to you. You glance up at her, before chickening out and once more looking away. It's as if she’s not just looking at you, but almost like she’s looking through you. The thought makes a shiver run down your spine.

“MaJake,” Neytiri whispers, her left hand reaching up to rest on her husband’s shoulder.

Jake shrugs her off, pretending not to hear her plea for his attention. Jake prods a finger into Neteyam’s chest, continuing to berate him, “Your mother and I do everything we can to keep you kids safe, and still you disrespect us! I maybe would have expected this from your brother, but not from you, Neteyam. I believed that you were the responsible one, but I guess I was wrong”. 

“I’m sorry sir,” Neteyam answers, his voice wobbling with unshed tears, “I did not mean to disappoint you”.

“No!” you interrupt, all the attention now pointed at you, “you cannot simply blame Neteyam for all of this. You cannot convince me that he was wrong to panic. Anyone else would have done the very same if they were in Neteyam’s place; if they found out that they’d be forced to leave the only home they’ve ever known. All Neteyam did was follow his heart, and follow the path that Eywa prepared for him, even though he knew you would not agree with him. That is not something worthy of reprimanding him for. It is a sign of courage, and it should be treated as such!”

You can feel your hands trembling by the time you conclude your statement, tears welling up in your eyes. You look over at Neytiri and are almost shocked by how significantly her gaze has softened. Next to her, Jake has removed his finger from where it had been prodding into Neteyam’s chest, only leaving behind an inflamed patch of skin on the younger man’s chest. Jake’s hands are rubbing his eyes, as he lets out a frustrated sigh. He suddenly appears to be much older than you remember him looking.

“That was not his conversation to overhear,” Jake weakly argues against you.

Neytiri steps forward, pushing her husband to the side. Her attention is focused on Neteyam, whose erratic breathing is audible in the suddenly quiet hut. Her left hand reaches up, cradling her son’s cheek with her fingers. She smiles at him, gentle and soft. She then focuses her attention on you, caressing your face just like she is her son’s. She nods, determined and unyielding. The small smile on her face breaks out into a full grin, the joy now radiating off of her.

Neytiri gently pulls you and Neteyam towards her, all of your foreheads pressing together. She breathes in deeply, you and Neteyam wordlessly following her example.

“My children,” she whispers, her voice full of reverence, “am I right to believe that you prayed, and that the Great Mother answered your plea?”.

Neteyam lets out a breathy laugh, “yeah, she did”.

“Then you are family now, my daughter,” Neytiri tells you, “as you know, we Sully’s always stick together. It is decided, you will come with us”.

Neytiri releases her grip on you and Neteyam, all three of you once more righting yourself. You look over at Neteyam to find that you’re both sporting matching grins. Neytiri accepts you, she accepts the bond between you and her son. You feel as if a massive weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, the relief you feel is immense—a feeling that you also feel radiating from Neteyam’s end of your bond.

“Excuse me, what the hell is going on?” you suddenly hear Jake exclaim.

The sudden desire to break out into giggles arises from within you, and you have to be careful to school your expression as Neytiri informs her husband of his son’s newly developed bond. It takes her a while to convince Jake that this is a good thing, though he comes around when he realizes just how special it is that Eywa allowed you and Neteyam to bond before you’ve both come of age. Not long after, Neytiri leaves the hut to call Kiri, Tuk, and Lo’ak back inside—the three of them, unsurprisingly, are found huddled together by the back end of the hut. When you tell them the news, Kiri reveals that she had already expected this to happen, though, like Lo’ak, she’s very happy for you both. You’ll never forget the look of sheer excitement on Tuk’s face when Neteyam told her that she now had another sister. 

That night, when you fall asleep wrapped up in Neteyam’s arms, it’s with the knowledge in mind that you have a family now. That night, you rest well; preparing yourself for the days that are yet to come.

[pbforeva]

part 6!!

just a warning, this speed will not last forever unfortunately 😔

—

Evelyn's pov:

It's about 5 p.m. and I need to start getting ready to go over to Paige's dorm, there's only one problem. I need to grab my things from Blake and I's apartment. I say a quick prayer before I open the door, hoping he won't be home, but of course, he is home. I see his head lift from his spot on the couch when I step in the door.

"Evelyn? Is that you?" He mumbles while his eyes focus on me. It's funny, those are almost the exact words he said to me yesterday.

"Yes," I say to keep it short, but he runs up to me and I can tell he is a little mad.

However, when he speaks his voice is soft, "Ev, I'm so sorry, I was just so mad, and I don't know what I was thinking." he pauses before he starts again, "Do you think you could forgive me? I mean I only did it because you made me so angry."

I guess he is right, I bet he wouldn't have done that if I hadn't made him mad. "Yeah, of course I can forgive you Blake," I say as I watch him smile a bit, "But I think I need a little bit of space for a day or two if that's ok." I add, hoping not to make him too angry.

I watch his eyes flare up in anger before he calmly says, "Yes, that could be good for both of us, just don't be gone for too long." I was not expecting that response, but at least he agrees, I guess.

"Ok, I'll probably just stay with Aurora for a night or two, but i'm gonna go grab a few things." I reply, and he nods then turns back to the couch.

I go into our room and grab a few makeup products and a few outfits for the coming days, but I don't know what to wear out tonight. I don't have many 'going out' clothes because Blake and I never go out. I bet Aurora will give me an outfit to wear even if I bring something.

I finish packing up before walking back out to the living room, where I stop in front of Blake. "Well, I'll see you in a few days Blake, I love you." I say to him.

"I love you too, please be safe Ev," He says before pulling me into a hug. His hugs have always been really tight, sometimes I feel like he does it because he knows it will hurt, but he would never do something like that, right?

I shake the feeling and hug him back, ignoring the striking pain in my ribs. We pull apart and I leave, a part of me wishing I hadn't left.

I arrive at Auroras dorm after an agonizing walk thinking about Blake. She ushers me in and asks what I brought to wear tonight.

"Sooo, what did you bring to wear tonight?" She asks in a curious tone.

"Well, I don't think you would've approved of anything from my closet, so I thought I could wear one of your outfits." I say as I set my stuff down.

"You're probably right," she shrugs and heads to her closet.

"Oh, also could I stay here for a few day, I mean of course it's ok if not, but Blake and I just-" I ramble before she interrupts me by saying. "Of course you can Ev, stay as long as you need."

I let out a sigh of release before Aurora goes back to her closet to look for outfits. I head to the bathroom, where I straighten my hair and apply a light coat of concealer. I finish my mascara and put on lip gloss before heading back out to see outfit Aurora picked out for me.

I look at the bed, where the outfit is laid out. I see a pair of black jeans with a cream long sleeved crop top. Well, I can't wear the top. I walk over to her closet, as she's in the bathroom now, and I take out a white, short sleeved, t-shirt. The shirt is short enough to be considered a 'going out top', but not short enough to show the bruises that line my stomach.

I quickly change and check to see if Aurora is ready to go over to their dorm, because it's 7:50 now. She comes out of the bathroom and notices the change in my top, but thankfully she doesn't say anything about it, and we grab our bag to head over to Paige's dorm.

Paiges pov:

Okay, I'm actually freaking out a bit now. It's 7:30 and I just finished getting ready, I have my hair in its natural curls, and I'm wearing a pink crop top, green cargos, and an opened white button up. We're suppose to be going to a party tonight, but honestly I don't even know where it's at.

"AZZI," I shout, I wanna know where we're going, but it's too much work to yell all of that.

She walks in the room and says "What?" while looking around.

"Where is the party tonight?" I ask.

"Oh my gosh, you could've asked me that without making me come in here." She says while rolling her eyes, but she continues, "Umm, I think it's at Alpha Chi, though."

"That's not too far then." I say while deciding to put on a coat of mascara.

I can't stand waiting here. It's 7:50 and Azzi left me a while ago, and everyone else is still getting ready. I groan for like the fourth time until Aubrey comes in my room.

"PAIGE, GUESS WHAT!" She screams at me.

"WHAT," I say back, matching her enthusiasm.

"You can stop groaning now because your 'friend' is here," she replies while giggling a bit.

"Hey! she is my friend!" I retort before I realize what she meant by 'friend'.

"HEY!" I yell while looking for Aubrey, but I just hear her giggling outside of my room.

Whatever, at least I won't be bored anymore. I stop to look in the mirror on my way out of my room, making sure my makeup wasn't messed up. I walk into the living room and I see Evelyn, she looks perfect.

"Hey," I hear Evelyn say to me.

"Hey, are you guys ready," I say, trying to tear my gaze from Evelyn.

"Yeah, but I don't think KK is yet," I hear Aurora say from beside Evelyn.

I clear my throat before saying "Well you guys can come sit on the couch, cause you never know how long we'll be waiting for KK," I say while laughing, managing to look away from Evelyn.

Evelyn sits beside me on the couch and we all talk about random things, except Evelyn. She is just sitting there, listening to everyone else's conversations. I can't help but try to sneak glances at her as often as I can, and eventually, KK comes out, saying she's ready.

—

party next chapter 😜 and i have it like planned a bit

[dirtybitfic]

Reality pt 2

I got back to Oregon a couple days ago , but today is the big day . Matt aka Professor Sturniolo is flying in today . Im flipping my shit right now i've probably cleaned my house 30 times by now . I want everything to be perfect for him , I'm not really sure why I think I just like his approval . My house is more in the forest area , I love it . I like being secluded to be honest and having no neighbors right next to me is nice . I could literally walk around naked 24/7 in this house and no-one would know . Now that i'm pretty much just staying home and writing I didn't care to live in the big city . My parents helped me buy this house which i'm so thankful for . I told them the one thing I would ever want after graduation is a house of my own , it didn't have to be big or in the city . They found this house and immediately bought it , the price was great and its more than enough space for just me to be living in.

As I was fixing a couple things on my table and throwing some of the strewn dog toys back in the bin . My dog Misha is currently at my parents since I didn't want them to have to go through the trouble of staying here and commute to the city for work while I was in Greece . Im about to head out and pick her up since it's on the way to the airport , Matt had sent a text on his quick lay over that he was set to land at 3 pm . Its currently 1:30 so I definitely need to get my shit together and head to my parents.

After having a quick talk with my parents about my trip , me and Misha head off to the airport . The weather is amazing right now , so naturally I put the windows down and let the breeze blow through my hair . I think Misha can feel how nervous I am because she keeps giving me kisses as Im driving . The minute we enter the area Matt said he would be my hands are shaking and my heart beat is going crazy , it's so loud I can hear it in my head.

I drive slowly past the line cars parked looking for Matt . I see fluffy brown hair and immediately my heart drops ... its definitely him. I park and honk hoping to get his attention . His head snaps up with a smile as he looks at me and looking over my car giving a nod . I turn off my car and pop the trunk to put his luggage inside .He slowly walks over to me I smile at him and he stops to give me a hug . It's a bit awkward but it's nice . " So how was the flight?" I ask as I take his suitcase and put it in the trunk . " It was okay a bit bumpy but over all good " he says smiling as he watches me close my trunk. " Nice car" he says looking it over again , I smile " Thank you" . We both get in and Misha immediately gives him kisses making me laugh and smile . "Ahh the infamous Misha" he says giving her some pets . " I think she likes you " I say as I still laugh at how excited she is .

The security guys starts yelling at me to leave which pisses me off so I throw that bitch in drive and speed off. We get out of the fuck ass airport and start down the highway " So you hungry?" I ask him glancing over quickly . " Starving actually " he says and I smile and nod " Anything sound good?" I ask and he thinks for a second "Honestly mac and cheese sounds really good " he says and I laugh " Mac and cheese?" I ask still laughing to my self " Yes Mac and cheese" he says with a smile " Okay then I know a place we can go"

After grabbing some take out from a restaurant that specifically makes all different types of Mac and cheese were headed back to my house . It's gotten dark and a bit cold so i keep the windows rolled up. Matt seems to be enjoying the scenery as we drive further away from the city and onto some more rural roads . The roads are cast with a thick fog which is really beautiful and another reason why I love living here. Oregon has such a distinct vibe to it that I have always loved. " Is it always this foggy?" Matt asks breaking me out of my thoughts "Yeah pretty much only when it starts to get dark though" I answer and he nods " I like it " he says and I smile .

After a couple more minutes were turning onto my long drive way and driving through the fog and trees until we get to the end and I click the button to open the garage and go in and park . " Your house is beautiful" Matt says as we get out and Misha runs to the door . "Thank you" I say sweetly as I close the garage door and open the door letting Misha inside. Matt grabs the food and walks in while I go and grab his suitcase from my trunk . " Wow y/n your house is nice . How can you afford this right out of college?" he asks and I smile "Well it was kind of my graduation gift from my parents . I had told them that the one thing I wanted after graduation was a place of my own nothing to big or in the city so they looked and found this place for a surprisingly low rate and well here we are" I explain and he nods along as he sits at the island taking bait of his food . " Damn your parents must really love you , the only thing I got from my parents for graduating was a big hug and a card" he says laughing and I smile "Yeah I mean I guess since i'm their only child they really like to go all out and spoil me " I say with a shrug and he nods . I feed Misha than sit down to eat with him .

" So ... there are definitely some things we need to talk about" he says turning to me . I slowly swallow the food I just finished and turn to look at him " Yeah we uh we do " I say back nodding . " I know this is ... a weird situation for the both of us I mean former student and teacher relationship , not exactly the best way to start out " he says and I nod " Yeah I mean ... I never thought anything would happen with us especially given the circumstances " I say as I feel my face get hot . " I mean trust me I didn't either not that i'm mad about it but I kept it professional for as long as I could " he says and I nod smiling " Im glad you came here though its uh its nice not to be all alone out here for once " I say to him and he smiles as his hand slowly comes up to my face and pushes a strong of hair behind my ear " Oh trust me its my pleasure ... i'm glad you agreed to it . I do want to tell you about how it all tarted for me though you know developing feelings I guess" he says and I slowly nod " Id love to hear it " I say smiling which makes him smile " Okay well I guess it all started when I helped you on that one story you wrote second semester your freshman year . Your writing was so passionate and your beauty definitely helped but really what made me fall for you was your writing and I guess throughout the years getting to watch you grow as a writer in my classes made me excited and I started noticing little things about you that I liked and those little things turned into everything and you started becoming the reason I was excited to get up and teach " he explained and I couldn't help but giggle at his words but the smile and the feelings that flooded my body was something id never felt before " Wow I ... i'm not sure what to say " I say as a blush covers my entire body . " Well I would love to know about your little crush you had on me " he smirks making me smack him lightly and he laughs "Okay fine , I honestly think it started the second I saw you . I remember the first time I walked into your lecture room and saw you standing at the front with your sleeves rolled up and a smile on your face and all I could think was " Oh shit he's hot" and then I found out you were only a couple years older than me which made the attraction even bigger and then throughout the four years of having you as my teacher and you helping me with all my writing and sharing little moments and glances I just developed a huge crush . I had to remind myself everyday that you were my teacher and this just wasn't a possibility and trust me my friends never heard the end of it I came home every day talking about you " I said and the smirk never left his face and his eyes seemed to have a new found sparkle in them . " Well i'm glad you decided to reach put for help or we would have never told each other these things " he says as he places his hand on my thigh rubbing small circled with his thumb . " Yeah I am too cause I absolutely would have never said these things to you " I says laughing and he joins .

" So I know you had a long flight and I know you're probably jet lagged and want to shower and stuff " I say as I throw away our trash from dinner . " Yeah a shower would be nice " he smiles and I nod " Follow me ill show you were everything is " I say as I start up the stairs Misha following us closely wagging her tail. " Okay so this is my room and the shower is through that door , feel free to unpack your stuff in the dresser I don't use it for anything " I say and he smiles "Thank you , I won't be too long " he says and I smile " No take your time I have to let Misha out before it gets too late but ill be on the couch if you need anything " I say and start to walk out " Are you sleeping in here tonight ?" he asks and I turn around " well I was actually gonna take the couch and let you have my room " I say awkwardly as my cheeks blush " Y/n " he says and I look up " yeah?" "Your sleeping in here with me got that" he says and I gulp " Y-yeah yes okay" I stutter out and he smiles . " Good i'll come down when i'm done with the shower and maybe we can watch a movie or something" he says and I nod " sounds good to me" I say before leaving the room .

While I take Misha out into my small grassy back yard I call my best friend to tell her everything

" HOLY SHIT Y/N first of all I cant believe he came to stay with you second ... sharing the fucking bed oh my fucking god ... Im just in shock and i'm also very impressed at the same time . Your ex professor you had the biggest crush on and never shut up about is upstairs in your shower naked like thats crazy work ." she says making me laugh . " Girl I know i'm like uhhhhh I don't even know like i'm still processing it all but i'm happy about it all " I say and I can hear her sigh on the other end " Its just so hot like sexy young professor and former student , you know how many people fantasize about that shit " she says making me laugh ": Oh trust me I did for four fucking years and look at me now" I say and she giggles " Well I cant wait for the updates , have fun trying to keep your cool sleeping next to him tonight " she says making me smile " Well I love you ill talk to you soon" " Love you too" She says back before I hang up. " Mishaaa come on girl" I say and she comes running at me excitedly . We go back inside and I decide to run upstairs and change into my comfy pjs before he gets out of the shower .

As i'm changing I hear a creek behind me and turn to see Matt walk out with just a towel wrapped around his waist . " Oh shit sorry I didn't hear the water turn off" I rush out add throw on my silk tank top . " You're good " he casually says as he walks to his suit case grabbing his clothes and going back into the bathroom to change . I sit down at my vanity taking off my make up and doing my skincare . He comes back out in only sweatpants that hangs low on his hips showing his slim waits and v line that practically has me drooling . He catches me staring , I quickly turn back around and head for the door .

I go down to the kitchen and make myself some tea before going to the couch and getting comfortable. I sit down and flip through the movie selection and Misha jumps up and snuggles into my lap. I decide to just wait for Matt to get down here and let him pick the movie. I look through pictures from my trip while petting Misha until I hear matts footsteps descending the stairs . He's wearing a tight fitting shirt and grey sweat shorts , it's a very casual outfit but its doing something to me . " Find anything you want to watch?" he asks as he comes and sits down giving Misha some pets . " Not really I was just gonna let you decide " I say and hand him the remote. " Hmm okay lets see" he says as he leans forward rubbing his chin as he flips through.

After flipping through options he settled on Me before you , very risky choice . I never fail to cry like a baby when I watch this god damn movie but like come on its so sad. We are half way through the movie when Misha jumps down and heads to over to her bed laying down and falling asleep . He takes the chance to scoot closer to me and all me into his side . I try and hide my smile but fail when his hand runs softly through my hair . He smells like fall , I know that might sound stupid but he just smells like a nice cool fall day. He smells of cedar wood , cinnamon , some type of musk , leather , tobacco and something I cant quite place. As the movie goes on I slowly melt more and more into him loving the comforting feeling of someone holding me , even better that its him.

The movie gets to the really upsetting part and I try my best not to cry but fail. I try my best to hide it from him being slightly embarrassed until I hear him sniffle. I look up at him to see he's also crying which makes me smile and let out a small giggle to myself . " What are you giggling about?" he asks in a teasing tone " Oh nothing " I say back and he just shakes his head . By the time the movie ends we're both sobbing and laughing about it.

" of course you'd pick there most gut wrenching movie " I say smacking his arm while i'm still crying. " Okay your right i'm sorry I just love this movie so much " he says laughing while he wipes his tears . " You just wanna make me cry huh" I say in a joking manor but he smirks " Yeah I do just not like this " He says making my breathe hitch " Wh-what" I choke out and he just smiles .

After we both wipe our tears we head out on my porch for some fresh air before bed. " Its really is amazing out here... it's so quiet " Matt says as he stands at the railing looking out into the dark forest. " Yeah Its nice when i'm writing but at night its kind of creepy how quiet it is" I say and he looks over at me " Do you like living alone out here?" he asks and I sit to think about my answer " well... I like it sometimes . Its nice to have no distractions and to be able to do whatever I want but... It gets really lonely out here and sometimes I think I get in my head a lot without someone around me " I answer and he nods along . " I can understand that . I mean I live with my brothers who are loud and obnoxious and i've never really lived alone so I guess I just wandered how it would be " he says and I smile " I wish I had siblings . Even in my childhood it was pretty lonely even with living in the city . My parents worked a lot so I was alone a good amount of the time so I guess in a way i'm used to it but that doesn't mean I really enjoy it you know" I said and he nodded giving me a look that kind of looked like pity. “ i don’t think i would be who I am today if I didn’t have siblings I can’t imagine how lonely that must be” he says and I smile sadly “ yeah I mean it wasn’t terrible . My parents spoiled me 24/7 but no matter what they bought me I always wished I had a sibling to share it with but I’m chill with it now” I say and he smiles . “ you ready for bed?” He asks and I nod “ yeah I’m exhausted” I finish with a yawn.

We both make our way up stairs after I set the alarm and make sure all the doors are locked. I turn on the fan before hopping into bed . “Do you mind if I put on rain sounds… it’s kind of the only way I can fall asleep?” I ask wearily “oh no I don’t mind at all I always have to have some white noise playing to fall asleep too “ Matt says smiling . I turn on my rain sounds on my tv and even though it’s a black screen it gives off just the right amount of light so the room isn’t pitch black. I’m also deathly afraid of the dark.

I plug in my phone and he does the same . We both turn off the side lamps and snuggle into my warm covers sinking comfortably into the mattress. “Good night Matt” I say as I slowly nod off to sleep. “ goodnight y/n” he says before placing a soft kiss on my shoulder . My heart flutter at the gesture.

I fall asleep with the biggest smile in my face.

(Sorry yallll I know this shit took me forever to get out . I’ve had the busiest couple weeks and haven’t had time to sit and write . )

🫶🏼🧡

[freebooter4ever]

Blah blah blah about love under the cut

One thing about daphne and the duke - she says these things, and immediately things magically work out because its TV fantasy land. But...at least in my limited experience...it takes a long time for the nice things to sink in past the bad things. Like it would take the patience of somebody repeating those words across a longer span of time.

There was one thing that startled me with my latest romantic failure - and it had absolutely nothing to do with pilot boy himself.

see, i have never really understood the whole 'bringing someone home to meet the parents' and how big of a deal it was in movies and books. It always baffled me. I never cared what my parents thought of people i dated or wanted to date and the only person i ever brought home was The Ex in 2010 and even then it was less 'do you approve?' and more 'i love him and idgaf about your opinon but i want to show him off'. My poor Ex endured an entire two hour long interrogation by my grandparents and i had to hold his hand the entire time, he was very shy.

BUT now, here in LA, i met my friend over at the artist's house, and that was in 2018 so a number of years ago. And slowly, over the years, i've grown closer and closer with them and their family, and they've kinda been a guide in this city. And there was that one time in 2019 where someone automatically assumed i was their daughter and neither of us corrected the person lol. And i have kind of basically been adopted by their family, even despite my best attempts to keep a respectful distance during like holidays and stuff. But i still go to them first whenever i have problems, and some days i have no idea how i ever lived without them. And everytime i think i have fucked up and made a mistake we remain friends - or apologize to each other if necessary, and things always always return to that warm, platonic, familial love.

and you know, for the fist time, ever, in my entire life....when i was dating Pilot Boy, i realized that Bringing The Significant Other Home To Meet Family was a big deal for me. And it was going to mean bringing him to the artist's house. Of course, Pilot Boy and i never got into a serious enough relationship to reach that point, but i definitely had a bit of an existential crisis over realizing that i actually wanted to hear the judgement of someone who was like a parent to me. I don't even know how to explain how much of a change of mindset it was, how odd it felt. And it's not like I have never dated anyone else in LA - there was Hiker Boy for like 3ish years of casual dating and not once did i even think about it. And that one guy E, who i didn't even mention to my friend. Like, this was definitely an accumulation of slowly starting to trust that the concept of having a 'parent' figure in my life was a good thing, rather than something scary.

I remember my mother would go through phases. If she was single suddenly she would go on rants about how being single was the normal thing and anyone who believed they could stay coupled forever was abnormal and weird. I never minded this phase because i was always single so always met that approval. But the other phase, when she was in a relationship, meant that she would talk about how anybody who wasn't in a relationship was weird and probably repulsive, and how being in a couple is the natural order of things (unless its a gay couple in which case absolutely they can marry but dont have children because it will fuck the kids up mentally). And of course during these times she would berate me for never dating.

And then one time when i was 24 two things happened: that summer she visited me in pittsburgh and escalated from emotional/verbal abuse and slapping to full physical abuse. And then months later when i visited my grandparents in seattle she invited me to a 'wine tasting and cooking lesson' with some VIPs at her work. And i went, and it was in this industrial area of seattle with this ridiculously fancy farm to table rich people type kitchen set up. And the chef was this ridiculously tall dark and handsome young man about my age from argentina. I was flustered, and the guy totally knew it, and found it funny. I could barely string two words together and he was teasing me the whole night, kept picking me for the demonstrations, etc, you know how it goes. It was very entertaining and i appreciated he at least wasnt being mean about my obvious attraction to him.

Anyway by the end of the night my mom was visibly tipsy. This scared the shit out of me. My mom is mean when she doesn't drink, but when she has just the right amount of alochol she's totally normal and fully functional and you don't notice. So the fact that i could see her slurring her speech and being unable to walk straight meant she had more than her normal amount which meant a LOT. And as we said goodnight to the fancy VIPs she was embarrassing herself in front of, and walking to her car, she turned to me and said 'you know the chef was flirting with you all night'. And i was fully prepared to correct her because at that point i'd had at least one boyfriend and thought i knew what flirting was and teasing isnt the same at all. But i didnt get a chance because she also said something like: 'he was only flirting with you because you were the only person his age in the entire room. That's the type of guy who only goes for pretty girls, not you.' and then she wouldn't let me take her keys to drive us home. And i was too scared of her to force her to give them to me. And that was the last time i've seen my mom. Because her driving home so drunk she was obviously mentally and physically impaired was the last straw for me - one of my friends mothers was killed by a drunk driver when we were kids. And if i was too scared of my mom to do my part to stop that from ever happening again, then it was time for me to admit i couldnt handle this. Its been 11 years and i dont regret it, although sometimes i still have nightmares of her finding me and gaining control over me again like when i was a kid. But i also never forgot that comment - that explained so much. How she would rant about how weird it was that i was single, but she never really truly believed i was the kind of girl anybody would want as a 'girlfriend' anyway.

Contrast this with my friend at the artist house. Who at one low point this week, i called up to cry on their shoulder over work drama and how helpless i felt. And somehow they mixed up the current situation with Pilot Boy. And they started talking about the kind of ideal person they imagined me dating, and said a lot of stuff about someone who 'saw me for how wonderful i was' - i dont know honestly i couldnt listen to most of it, my brain just tuned it out. And i laughed and corrected them that no the person i was dating a month ago was 'Pilot Boy' and this guy currently was someone who - under no circumstances even if it meant being single forever - i wouldn't want to date. And then i stopped and thought for a little bit and realized that if i can change my mind about not wanting to ever have a parent in my life, and have those 'normal' things like the 'bring a date home to meet the parents' type experiences... That maybe one day the conviction in me that believes nobody would ever choose to date me or value me or consider me worthwhile....that maybe that could change too. And then maybe my friend's speech about someone valuing me wasnt so totally unbelievable and impossible. It still seems extremely farfetched to me, and I'm totally happy with just being able to know that my friend at least genuinely believes someone should be able to romantically love me one day. Like that's way more than i've ever had before. I should be grateful for that.

Anyway, yeah, if penelope's arc is something like that....then i might be interested. Because all we've seen from penelope's mother is her dismissing her daughter over and over again as being nothing worthwhile.

[deadendsave]

Barbara Short’s Journal (2023)

1: The mayor personally came by my office and asked me if I wanted to sell my property. He said the park was an eyesore. I laughed in his face. Coming into my office and insulting me, he’s so full of himself. I’ve been running this place for 20 years, and I’m not about to sell it. He tried persuading me by assuring me that the current resident would be given priority access to the apartments that would be built in its place… as if they could afford the rent.

2: I don’t like them Davis boys. Most people try to forget about that family and their mill, but I won’t. I see what the mayors plans are. He’s trying to run all of us out of here. He wants to bring in new residents who are younger and have more money. His brother’s just as bad as him. Last Sunday he tried to tell me I should sell the park to his brother. Pfft. The only reason I still go to his church is because it’s the only one in town.

3: To Do List: call exterminator for Ray / Collect rent from Brielle / Refill prescriptions

4: I went by Ray’s while the pest control man was there. I was disgusted by what I saw. I’m not stupid; I knew what him and his girlfriend had been doing in there, but I didn’t expect him to trash the place as much as they did. No wonder they’ve got infestations. The windows were all foiled up, and mouse droppings were all over the floor. He did a good job hiding all of his stuff, but he left a glass pipe on the counter. I was furious. I gave him a final warning.

5: Brielle’s short on rent again. The girl’s lucky I got a soft spot for her and that baby. I know she’s working hard waitressing, but I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep affording this. It costs a lot of money to run a place like this, I’ve got bill collectors calling.

6: Mayor Davis wants to buy Todd’s bar and Margaret’s bookstore. He’s trying to get rid of all the places that’ve been here for years. That man just doesn’t stop. Millhaven has beautiful historic buildings, I don’t know how his plans to destroy them all even for approved. Half of the town has been demolished for new constructions.

7: When I got home last night, I went to watch ‘The Young and The Restless’ on DVR, but an emergency news broadcast interrupted it. They said there’s a new virus going around, and it’s deadly if your immune system is weak.

8: This isn’t good, LHV isn’t some regular virus. The news didn’t tell us this at first and made it seem less serious. It’s turning people into monsters. I’m going to get some things from the grocery store and pharmacy, then I’m staying at the park so I can make sure everyone is safe. Nobody knows, but I’ve got a handgun in my safe at the office.

9: It just keeps getting worse. Portland and Salem are under full military control. Everyone in Millhaven is hiding in there homes. It’s only a matter of time before LHV hits us.

10: People are out of their minds. I went to the grocery store, and the shelves were empty. Everyone is buying everything up. I got as much as I could for me and the people are the park. I knew Brielle probably hasn’t gotten groceries yet.

11: Brielle’s so worried. She said her dad is coming to pick her up tomorrow. I don’t think it’s a good idea, but she said his house is secluded. I know she’s desperate, because she hates her daddy. I don’t understand how he could not talk to her all this time, but now he suddenly wants to help. He never helped her out before, kicking her out of his house at 17 because she got pregnant. I hope he keeps her safe.

12: That deadbeat never showed up, and now the phone lines are down. I told Brielle to pack up her and Leah's things. I'm taking them to my house, I’ll keep them safe there.

stray note, trailer park office:

I drawed this for you Miss Barbara. That’s you at your offise. - Leah

[cats-thoughts]

o/ 69 lol

o/

Give Us A Little Love - Fallulah

Ah yes time for what I have titled: Found Family <3 because sometimes a family is a young child and the 15 or so eldritch abominations living in the woods <3

tw: mentioned child abuse, implied body horror, general horror ig, wow i just keep writing stories abt rlly fucked up premises huh.

It's another time, it's another day

He stares out the window at the woods, shotgun at his side doing nothing to comfort him. That Thing tanked a shot like nothing happened.

Numbers they are new, but it's all the same

He'd lie to himself, say he was safe as long as he stayed out of the woods, but he knew he wasn't. It's visited him before. Leaning down to peer through his window at him. Tapping on the glass with long, razor sharp claws.

Running from yourself, it will never change

He should have never approved that grant, those experiments. He'd thought no one would notice. No one cared about the kids anyways. People went missing in the woods all the time. Some street rats disappearing wouldn't even raise an eyebrow. And it was a good deal for him- allow some tests and he gets to be sheriff, rule the town and be exempt from laws. Complete power for the price of a few lives? Anyone would take it.

If you try you could die

He should have known the brats were too stubborn to die. And now his son was missing, too. Whatever. Wasn't like the little shit did anything except bother him, anyways. Probably wandered off into the woods that afternoon. Stay Gone and get ate by the other freaks, for all he cared.

Give us a little love, give us a little love

It stares down at the young child, head tilting. The child stares up at it, then giggles, waving, stuffed bear clutched in one hand. It crouches, aching bones creaking, reaching a careful claw out. The child grabs it, tiny hand curling around the vague approximation of a finger.

We never had enough, we never had enough

It hums pleasantly, leading the young child further into the woods, where its other kids waited. Rere does like looking after kids. Maybe they can ask the child about the bruise forming on their cheek, or if they need help getting home. Maybe they'll want to stay.

Give us a little love, give us a little love

The new sheriff stares out at the woods as she finishes unpacking her things in the office. The old sheriff quit in hysterics after returning from a failed search party- some teens went missing, the other two returning screaming all hell about monsters taller than trees. He was the only one to return from the search party. His son also went missing recently, and she wants to look into some previous disappearances of orphaned children about a decade ago, back when he first became sheriff. She sighs and starts going home. She's got lots of work to do.

We never had enough, we never had enough

Two glowing white eyes watch her unnoticed from the woods, great antlers rising high above the trees.

[kfeinf-29jcdei]

I figured out a thing and now I just feel like dora the explorer. No real accomplishment but my own dance with my own backpack THAT I MADE DANCE WITH ME and a fox who steals enough to have a felony. Congratulations, you sing your own songs now too. No help unless we click on your destination for you. Kinda racist, isn't it? Why can't she have a friend with no criminal activity regularly and one more friend that's a person or animal and not her own possessions. YIKES that's evil. That's an only child too, man she's gotta have a shitty home life where is her mother and shit?

Anyway. It's a weird thing I had to like look up the entirety without finishing or going too far into detail to preserve time, world war 2 and then the cold war a little bit. I had no idea Stalin was so horrible he just killed anyone even like the men he used to kill like he wasn't even Hitler, he just gave less than the fucks Hitler had from his drugs and shit. That's my personal opinion people are BAT SHIT on a mission with continuous use of less than he did regularly or can be anyway. So, how is it Christianity and THE VATICAN BEING PUT AWAY ALONE AS A LITERAL LIKE SEPARATE ENTITY. OUT OF COUNTRY ANYONE OF THEM. JUST A FUCKING. ONLY. A. RELIGIOUS. ENTITY.

THOSE CREEPY CREEPS DID STUFF BACK THEN AND LEMME TELL YOU. I know a person who knows how those people operate with like secret secrets secretly hidden in the place that was forgotten by God and remembered by a dead guy who personally knew Jesus. Just by not talking about it. Over time, yes, they're men who wanted their way. With what he told me, I went hold on Stalin separated the Vatican and all. So LOOK AT US. MURICA, MAKE THEM BABIES CUZ POOR PEOPLE HAVE BEEN POOR OVER AND OVER WOOHOO THE RIGHT KIND OF (this is too inflammatory and opinionated but I think most minorities) THAT DIDN'T HAVE A VICTUM MIND SET MY DADDY DON'T LIKE ARE RAISIN BABIES AND FUCKIN LIKE RABBITS YEEEEEHOOOOO.

Like....if it made no sense to keep demonizing the people who aren't like so called church approved gay trans native what have you, why not figure out what God says? NOT ONE SINGLE PERSON HAS BEEN TOLD BY GOD GAYS TRANSGENDERS AND ALL THE REST aren't accepted at the human level. When is it anywhere? I mean, I always hoped and wished I'd see this in person. Because "Wait, you didn't hear the good news about our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?" Virgin birth or not, um he ended a lot of people's involvement with Judaism IDC if he was human or an immortal being whatever. They listened to him teach and preserved the message.

Here's what I was made to understand, personally. sodom and gomorrah, the wrath of the divine being we know as God wasn't men having sex with adult men. Men who were raised into homophobic lives went batshit crazy, and it was normal to have children work and what not. Guess what happened? They were somehow (the ones committing pedophilia of course) being overcome with the whatever it is that causes men to rape as a result of a power trip. Then they went well this is a small human, and I have this now and it's better than what they did have or could have. Children in sexual servitude? Oh level the city to the ground and turn who looks at it into useless BS that has no value and won't even stay standing. So how did we get away from that? Idk the Catholics have the methods of prayer the most spot on of them and Christianity idk about Judaism at all. The rest are close in their own ways, but ITS OLD MEN KEEPIN OLD MENS SECRETS AND THEY MIGHT NOT KNOW. THEY PROBABLY BELIEVE REALLY REALLY HARD IN STUFF.

If there's a God just fucking put whatever telepathy everyone found out about in all the nationalism funded research that all of the big countries I believe had something of. We had MK ultra! We still have shit tons of regular people just regular ole people who can do that shit just once in a while boom I did this drug I see you and sucks cause I'm getting all that info out somewhere. God bless who has the ability to communicate it. IM PRAYING FOR THE GROUP OF LITERAL PSYCHOPATHIC DEAD MENS BULLSHIT COMING OFF OF THE RELATIONSHIP THAT THE WORLD HAS WITH RELIGION. I know America is big and loud with these abortion restrictions. If I get pregnant fuck it idgaf who it was he fucking raped me, and I was going through torture. Jail time? Good, keep me with their dicks in jail instead anyway. Look at my logic there, with a few people on my side out loud I'd have instant ignorant support. If women literally just got the ability to restrict access to sexual intercourse like as a sudden attack we could mind fucks them into their own hell or prison after prison.

Maybe if religious bullshit is talked about....maybe this will have nothing to hurt the perpetuating politicians and officials and the whole supreme court at least who went yeah we can do this evil thing...dun dun, or just a little. Let it fizzle out and give up or till the bitter endz make history and be remembered as a random power money and more power hungry asshole with no repercussions or accountability. We will see! Oh, it only keeps going the way you want so long. We get away with a lot with our own people from any government level. It's like a unintentional motivation I think. They're gonna have these people either missing from history or another "THIS WAS ALMOST ANOTHER SLAVERY. FOR A LITTLE BIT IT WAS. LOOK AT THE AFFECTED PEOPLE! SHAME SHAME SHAME DONT SPEAK THEIR NAMES OUT LOUD EW."

I can only repeat it so many times. Maybe God will help, never know. Good big giant clear cut in all languages maybe even sign anyone and anything can see and go "oh good people are all people." Could happen. It'd be cool without the prophet going through the whole entire Bible type thing. I mean why was all of the old testament like....Noah had something to do with Jesus right? I don't remember. What was that? Why? It was a sadists story. God did a thing he never does too like wow ok, kill the girl children, you didn't! Good, I was wrong. UM NO. God made all the breathing things and the plants. No capacity for it. Who else was in there talking? Wtf? They didn't even keep a dinosaur that was small. So we have no mention anyhow. Like I have more opinions but they're too much of a thing you wanna stab a bigger version of church.

Also, if witchcraft is not good what are the Catholics doing on TV? Look up Norse pagans, find the deity Freya okay. Animals, she loves the animals it's tame and you can't deny it! Find me a simple little bit of a cleansing routine with one. Thing. To. Cleanse. With. Compare it to all the smoking shit and the hand motions and the oils and all of it. Sir, you're wearing stuff women were burned for dancing in around fire in Salem and doing LESS. What. Is. This. Shit.

[tumblingxelian]

Wanted to say thanks to @violetren for contributing to the collective post with these tags and for giving me permission to share them:

#pretty much everything above #i am glad someone pointed out that Tai was probably trying to mimic Qrow with the off colour joke #because thats probably exactly what he was doing #he seems to think that the fact their uncle can do it means their Dad obviously can #and doesn't examine the fact that he just hasn't earned the trust or respect to safely engage in such exchanges #its very immature and reminds me of when my older nephew complains that his little brother is getting special treatment #when in actuality his little brother doesn't have to put his own washing away because can't even reach half the drawers #qrow gets to make the jokes about mental health because qrow is 1 self aware that he is just as big a mess #2 doesn't shy away from that fact or pretend that the girls don't know it#3 is mature enough to check in and follow up with reassurances

Glad you approve & yeah, it was a great insight regarding the joke and it does feel rather accurate for Tai given his at times rather... Well petulant manner when it comes to emotional topics he either doesn't like or feels he should be involved in. Immature is a good way to put it. Also yeah, the entire structure and dynamic is just so very different.

#on another topic i feel people have been going for the Actually Good Dad Tai angle again after the boba episode #because look he used to take them to boba clearly he got better #which is a very correlation not causation kinda situation in my eyes #my very first reaction to the whole remember how dad would take us to boba #was thats him trying to wallpaper not being there before and putting in minimal effort now #how bad could he be if he did something that made them smile every now and then?#obviously dropping a couple of lien on a fruity drink the girls enjoy is the same as being an emotionally present and engaged parent #its not like buying kids a bunch of nothing present to throw in their face whenever they say you never do anything for them #is a common tactic of real life deadbeats #because thats what he is. a deadbeat. #that fact that he's generally friendly doesn't negate it #it just means less people would have caught onto the fact that he's a crap parent #because even if they DID notice its not easy to call out the type of guy who overrides all arguments with the fact that he's trying now #even if its pretty clear the only thing he's actually trying to do is stay in his own comfort zone

Mhm, I very much sensed that takes coming when the episode aired and I agree with your insightful takes on the matter.

I often find both in media and real life, all a dad needs to do is the bare minimum or nothing outright malevolent to be cast as a good dad. Meanwhile a mother that's anything less than perfect is torn down faster than one can say double standards.

I also think people have a very specific image of being a bad, toxic or just not very good dad looks like. & so unless the father is hyper cold & aloof, cruel and mocking, or outright violent. The good dad-ness is presumed rather than earned.

I think it was in a discussion with @bestworstcase that the idea of Tai being the "Fun dad" to Ruby emerged. IE, Tai's not really keyed in enough to do the emotional heavy lifting, or a lo of the drudgery that comes with being a parent. So that stuff still got left to Yang (Like seeking out Ruby in V5). While he did the fun stuff, sent dogs in the mail, bought bobba, the things that required very little effort but yielded a big reward as far as seeming like a functional adult goes.

#i'm always skeptical of the tai is actually staying in patch to guard a relic theory for this reason #if there was something to protect on that island then summer was doing the job #and when she died Oz decided sending a new guardian into what had become the rose xiao long home would just raise suspicions

Honestly, I don't think the Relic is on Patch or if it is, I don't think he'd be guarding it in any official capacity. I think its more likely, if it is there, that he's just kind of sitting on it, metaphorically, a reflection of him being stuck in arrested development. The only other contexts in which him guard the Crown would make sense are:

If he's just a portal beacon for Raven to summon reinforcement as he's the only one with a connection to her there that also isn't more useful elsewhere. Or, he can store up Aura for years and explode like Voltorb or a Saibaman and so his job is to take Cinder out with him to deny Salem the Crown.

I don't find either that likely though.

A Necessary Post - Yang, Taiyang & Seeing Red

I debated this being a message or a note or a reblog, but ultimately this warranted an essay. Because a hatred of nuance is not even remotely the reason why Tai is critiqued as a teacher or father.

With that fact in mind, let's begin:

During RWBY Volume 4, Episode 9: Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Back Taiyang has a great deal of critical feedback for Yang regarding her fighting style, personality & Semblance.

The issue is that Tai's words and advice when compared to what we saw on screen before & afterwards demonstrate he does not understand how it works or how she used it.

So here for your reading pleasure if a more or less line by line breakdown of Tai's advice and why I don't feel it holds up & more to the point, why I don't believe Yang utilized it.

Taiyang: Do you realize that you used your Semblance to win every fight after the qualifiers?

Yang rightfully points out that her using Burn is no different than anyone else using their Semblances. I would add that Yang's Semblance only serves to enhance her already present abilities with damage taken in a fight. So her not using it would be stupidly holding back extra energy for no reason.

Tai's critique also fails to register that when using her Semblance to take out FNKI, Yang specifically disrupted the ground so Neon could not skate effectively & used the boost in power to turn Flynt's own weapon against him.

I will be addressing Mercury further down but she used it effectively and intellectually here and to great effect.

What's more, every other fights fighting style, weapons or both were literally built around their Semblances. Yang's threat level remains fairly consistent without her Semblance, all three of these other characters take a huge dip.

Taiyang: Because not everyone else's is basically a temper tantrum.

Ignoring that calling the manifestation of Yang's soul a temper tantrum is another in a long line if dickish things Tai says to Yang. Her Semblance literally does not work that way.

Her anger has jack and shit to do with it, this has been explained & demonstrated time and time again. Yang only gets a power boost when she's been injured, the fact she tends to be angry when using it is because being hurt sucks and she's usually in an intense fight. When the fight is going well and she still gets to use it she's not angry, as seen with a pleased smirk here:

So as before, Tai's critique is bereft of any merit, Yang's Semblance does not work that way.

Taiyang: I'm serious! Once you take damage, you can dish it back twice as hard, but that doesn't make you invincible!

Cite a time Yang thought she was invincible, cite it provably that Yang thought, said or indicated that she felt she was invincible. You can't because Yang never indicated as such this is something Tai is assuming about her at best.

& no her jumping in the Nevermore's mouth is not an example because she was not using her Semblance, did not take damage, it was a very effective strategy & seemingly either part of the plan, or was so easily understood that it could be safely and reliably worked into the plan. She wasn't using her Semblance here but finding evidence of risky behavior was hard, especially with her Semblance, go figure.

In fact every time Yang used her Semblance she did so only because someone landed a blow, which just happens in fights sometimes.

Taiyang: It's great when you're in a bind, but what happens if you miss? What happens if they're stronger? What then? Now you're just weak and tired!

We know what happens when Yang misses, she can swing again!

After the first blow on the Paladin she missed & needed help to catch it, her missing had zero impact on her Semblances.

As to what happens if they are stronger, um, she loses, that sometimes happens in fights. Its not something Yang can do anything about by holding back on extra strength. Not to quote Qrow but sometimes bad things happen. Other characters losing to stronger opponents don't get given this kind of diatribe's because its pointedly obvious that there was nothing to be done about it.

& on the final piece, she was very pointedly not weak and tired after using it. The only times she has been shown to be is when she was extremely low on Aura regardless in which cases not using her Semblance is a death sentence.

So again, we've established Tai's critique comes from nowhere & his understanding of her Semblance is nonexistent.

Taiyang: But you gotta keep your emotions in check. Keep a level head, and think before you act. Your Semblance is a great fallback, but you can't let yourself rely on it.

This is so painfully unfair it hurts.

No other character gets this kind of shit for expressing emotions in combat. In fact we see characters expressing emotions in battle all the time. Nor has she stopped displaying emotions in combat:

I already outlined how in all two of the Yang fights Tai actually witnessed she used strategy and retained excellent combat form. So again, baseless claims from Tai.

What's more, Yang primarily does use her Semblance as a fallback rather than rely on it in these fights. She only whipped it out against Mercury when he'd unleashed his seeming kill move on her and was confident he'd won.

Not using it here would be dumb and make no sense.

Yang doesn't rely on it to save her, she deploys it when it makes sense to & she has the energy or the need. This is more than we see from many characters.

Taiyang: It won't always save you. Obviously.

So now he is critiquing her for a fight he didn't even witness & knows jack shit about. So let's break this down once again:

Yang has spent the last 24 hours questions her sanity.

Yang's new home (Her words) is burning down.

Yang's sister is missing in all this chaos.

Then Yang's partner gets fucking stabbed, and the guy who did it is standing between them with a sword & gun, with fire all over Grimm all around.

Anything Yang can do he can counter, she tries to go around he only has to pivot. If she tries to fire from long range she might hit Blake. She tries an earth shock wave, she launches Blake into the fire.

She quite literally had no others options & zero time to try anything else because he can just shoot or stab Blake whenever he wants.

Taiyang: You definitely have your mom's stubbornness.

This, this right here is where all this is actually coming from. Tai is once again projecting Raven onto Yang despite them frankly having almost nothing in common.

With most of Yang's visible personality tells being inherited from Summer, such as the mother daughter shoulder check of V9. Thanks to chittychittyyangyang for the GIFs

Or as outlined in some songs with Yang's side of the lyrics explicitly citing how she is trying to fill the Summer shaped void in their lives.

Like the smell of a rose on a summer's day, I will be there to take all your fears away.

Taiyang: Your mother was... a complicated woman. Like everybody, she had her faults, but those faults are what tore our team apart. And, it did a real number on our family.

Tai blames Raven for tearing their team apart. Save that by all accounts, barring her absence things seemed to be going fine. Qrow seemed to be present in their lives, Tai looked happy, the girls were happy & Summer at least seemed happy though we know she was covering up a lot of dread.

Keep in mind Tai is projecting Raven, the woman he blames for destroying the team and damaging the family onto his daughter who literally kept the family together after Summer died. Yang's established this, Ruby has established this, its canon.

Yang: I had to pick up the pieces. I had to keep things together. Alone. (pause) Weiss, if you have something to say, then say it. Ruby: If you thought we wouldn’t come for you, then you must’ve forgotten who raised me.

Tai was not the one holding that home or family together. Unless you think the writers are gonna randomly swerve & say both Yang & Ruby are big whiny liars for some utterly nonsensical reasons. So no, I don't take him seriously as a narrator or critique of Yang, I have no reason to.

But let's push on, because I'm not done.

Taiyang: You both act like the easiest way to tackle an obstacle is through it. (pointing at Zwei) That strength is all that matters in a fight.

Ah yes, Raven, the woman famously known for thinking the easiest way to deal with an obstacles is to tackle it head on. That's why she spent years adorning herself in a Grimm helmet that hid her eyes & raised a False Maiden to serve as her body double.

A woman so inclined to rely on her own raw strength that when she was ambushed by Salem's forces she decided to trick them into an ambush.

Then when fighting Cinder and was at a disadvantage she freezes her in place while making Cinder think she is going on the offensive leaving her to be crushed by Stalactites & also utilized mind games to distract her & deal the finishing blow... Cos she only relies on strength.

As to his final piece of advice I already address it up above, there was no way around Adam, the situation was fucked from the start.

Saying it was Yang's fault she was dismembered is no more than victim blaming, I stood by that in Volume 3 to to this day & beyond.

Taiyang: But if you just take a second look, then maybe you see... (walking toward her, stepping around Zwei) there's a way around as well.

But let's actually look at Seeing Red & if Yang listened to Tai's advice or if she not only ignored it but did the opposite of what he ordered.

Let's see she goes in with open aggression & emotions, and also takes many blows rather than going 'around' them somehow.

Yang, as if she were 'indestructible' outright tanks a massively charged up Aura beam for the purpose of increasing her strength.

Then burns through all of her Aura & Semblance energies delivering one direct blow, relying on it to save her & leaving her weak & tired.

Or in other words, she:

Yang didn't miss, but we know that isn't a real issue anyway.

Yang used her Semblance to 'win' the fight & very much did rely on it to save her.

Yang expressed anger & many other emotions in the battle & still continues to does so.

Yang willingly took huge risks that involved her being able to take tons of damage rather than go "Around" the problem.

Yang knew Adam was likely stronger given it was 2 V1 but relied on her Semblance to get her out of that bind and she was in fact left weak and tired.

This is also the first time she has done several of these things, or otherwise demonstrated these traits, such as being left weak and tired or willingly tanking big attacks rather than just being hit by surprise or due to being overwhelmed.

I don't take Tai's advice seriously because none of it was accurate or aligned with the Semblance we saw in action or had described to us.

I don't trust Tai's opinion on Yang because his take on her is explicitly informed by Raven & not the Yang we spent four & then five more volumes getting to know.

I don't take Tai's words over Yang's, Ruby's or what we see on screen because Tai is at best a secondary or minor character & a recurring theme in RWBY is the failure of older generations.

These failures are not just in the past but how they have been consistently failing the next generation as the story is being told. There is zero reason to think Tai is some magic exception to this narrative trend when much more well explored characters like Maria, Qrow, Ozpin, Ironwood, Raven, and hell, Summer Rose are not.

& that is my stance on that, thanks for tuning in!

[primofate]

im feeling kinda akward since its my first time requesting,i really really really like your writings and im wondering if you could do some angst for albedo, anything you feel like tbh, but if may i be a little selfish i was thinking on something like he hurt you, so you break up with him or maybe he break up with you and regret later, im in love with the genius and your writings so why not lol, hope you are doing well, xoxoxooxox

Thanks for the request anon. <3 Sorry it took so long, but I’m feeling angst today so here goes. Let me know what you think <3

QUEUED POST

Scenario: Breaking up

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst?

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 2) (Part 3 - Final)

Albedo

Alone.

These days you found yourself alone in your shared home. It had been nearly a year since the two of you decided to live together. Maybe that was a bad idea.

You were smitten. He was such an intelligent man, and truth be told you loved how his mind worked. He was silent and mostly kept to himself at first, but with you, there were subtle touches, fleeting kisses. Oh and his eyes, the way his eyes brightened or the way his lips turned up at the sight of you. The way he held you close at nights, up until the morning.

Gone were those days. 

He was hardly home. The intelligent man you had fallen in love with, was also a workaholic. Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming. There were so many signs.

Maybe he changed. Maybe you changed. But the little things weren’t enough anymore. He came home just to sleep and wake up, and he was off again. 

“Bedo, have you got some time off on the weekend? We haven’t been up to Starsnatch Cliff in a while,” you had prodded him a few days ago, wondering if the problem would be solved if you made the first move. 

“Sorry, Y/N, we’re just about to discover more about the properties of electro crystals... It’ll be useful if we want to sustain higher energy concentrations on...” and just like that he had gone off a tangent explaining the whole thing. You smiled a little, it was still endearing how excited he got discussing those things. 

But you couldn’t help but be lonely at how he seemed to love his research more than you. 

‘Maybe I just need to be more proactive. That’s it! I’ll go and visit him at the lab today!’ Surprising him was one of the things that you had always wanted to do. But not a lot of things got past Albedo. He was observant like that. You made a quick run to the bakery, getting him some croissants and welcomed yourself into the Favonius Headquarters. 

You looked up at the sign on his laboratory door. That sign was always there though, Klee had told you about it, and Sucrose had also talked about it once or twice before, telling you that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go in if the sign was up. But when was it ever down? So, you shrugged, and pushed the door open with a wide smile.

“What are you doing here?!” There’s a wild look in Albedo’s eyes the moment you step in. He didn’t appreciate being disturbed. You tilted your head a little at his reaction, you weren’t expecting that.

“Oh, since you’ve been so busy these days I just thought I’d drop by and give you something to--”

“Y/N, did you not see the sign on the door? No disturbances, even from you,”

“I’ll just be quick, I’m just dropping this off,” you lift the paper bag from the bakery and lay it down on the nearest table. Albedo closes his eyes with a sigh. 

“...We’re working on something dangerous right now, I don’t have time to eat. Please take it back,”

Surprisingly, you obey quite quickly, and take the paper bag back into your hands. Annoyance start to pulse in your veins. “Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

Sucrose had been standing there the whole time, and you can see the slight wince on her face at your cold statement... But Albedo had returned it ten fold, snapping an answer back. “Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

You didn’t expect how much it would sting. Your shoulders slump downwards at the realization that this... had gone too far. You couldn’t take it anymore. Sucrose opens her mouth, but doesn’t know what to say looking back and forth between you and Albedo. 

The Kreideprinz had continued with his task as if nothing had happened at all, but he knew what he said. He didn’t want any interferences nor accidents happening in the lab and that was the only thing he cared about at the moment. 

Your foot moves to step back, but your eyes are glued to Albedo. You can only see his back. His hair tied up neatly, the shoulders that you loved to wrap your arms around and his hands that were always gentle. You took a good look, drinking the whole scene in like you hadn’t had a drop of water in days. 

This was the last time you would lay eyes on him and it broke you into so many pieces. You turned away without another word, Sucrose staring at the door, before she decided that she needed to follow you. “I-I’ll be back, Master Albedo,” she rarely ever abandoned an experiment, but she knew that you needed a friend right now. 

Ironic, because it should have been Albedo running after you, but instead the green-haired girl caught up to you just as you reached the fountain in the middle of Mondstadt. “Y/N!” she jogs, and stops when you do as you hear your name.

Tears prickled your cheeks, but they were more of frustration than sadness. You stand there for a moment, drying your tears and turning around towards Sucrose, gaze on the pavement. “Y/N...” Sucrose approaches carefully, hand resting on your shoulder.

“...I don’t know anything other than Albedo, Sucrose,” you start, a curtain of memories flashing through your mind. “...Without him, there isn’t much reason for me to stay in Mondstadt,” Sucrose shakes her head rather hastily. “H-He’s just... a little occupied right now, Y/N, I’m sure he doesn’t mean what he said,” You close your eyes, the scene repeating in your head.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

A hard lump forms on your throat at how hard you try not to sob. How hard you try to keep yourself together and Sucrose sees it from the way your lips tremble. “Sucrose, please watch over him,” and that is also the last that Sucrose sees of you. 

That night, Albedo arrives home exhausted, just as he always does. But now that he was home, he could at least expect a warm meal and a warm hug. A soft smile tugs on his lips at the thought.

When he turned the lights on, he was met with a strange stillness instead. His hand stays on the switch as his eyes scan the living room. It was...quiet. There were no plates on the table, and there were no sounds from the kitchen.

Deep in the pits of his stomach there’s an anxiety that starts bubbling up. He brushes it off, opting instead to check the kitchen. “Y/N?”

Empty. 

His footsteps hasten as he opens the bedroom door, expecting you to be curled up there, asleep. 

Empty.

Albedo takes in a shaky breath. You were probably just out in town, doing some late night shopping. Yeah, that’s it, perhaps you just didn’t have enough ingredients for dinner today and--his eyes land on the bedside table.

The photo frame is gone. The photo of the two of you standing side by side together with comfortable smiles on your faces, his hand on your waist, and the house on the background. 

He throws open the closet doors. Your clothes are gone. Your shoes are gone. Even your scent seemed to have disappeared. The anxiety that was once a small bubble in his stomach had started to claw it’s way out, wrenching his heart in places that he didn’t know could hurt. The tears pooling in his eyes were so foreign that he didn’t even know what was happening until he hears himself gasp back a sob.

You’re gone. 

Suddenly it was so hard to breathe, but he pulls himself up and out the door. There’s no way. Where would you go? Perhaps you were just around Mondstadt, trying to get a breath of fresh air to calm your nerves. He searches everywhere. The church, the tavern, the Good Hunter and even atop the rooftop of the Favonius Headquarters. There was a decent view of the city there, and his eyes roam the streets, just to get a glimpse of you.

“...Please...” There’s another lump in his throat, his eyes dart around looking for any small sign of you. 

“Albedo? Tired?” you ask as he returns home one day. He merely lets out a small “Mm,” and pulls a chair out from the dining table to sit on. You walk into the kitchen to fetch him a cup of tea, and he snatches your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. “Thank you, love,” 

“...Please!” his grip on the stone walls of the rooftop tighten. His vision blurs.

“Al! Don’t do that!” you try to swat his hand away from the pot, a short laugh coming off of your lips at how mischievous he could be sometimes, trying to dip his finger into the sauce. He has a grin on his face as he successfully tastes the sauce off his finger, making a sound of approval as he draws you in for a light kiss on your forehead, “It’s good, as always,” 

His legs buckle, and he finds himself on his knees, hands fisted upon the cold stone wall. “At least tell me where you've gone! I can’t--” he doesn’t know when the last time he cried was, but whenever it was, he doesn’t remember it to be this bad. The pain was unlike any injury he had, it grasped so tightly at his heart.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

He furiously shakes his head because he knows that it was his fault. “I didn’t mean it, please give them back,” as if there was someone else who took you away. As if there was a God listening to him right now. 

He realizes that the worst of it was not that you had left, but that you had left no traces of you behind. No photo. Not a piece of clothing. Not a trace of your existence.

Nothing for him to hold on to.

That night, he dragged himself back home. Face flushed and hot from the tears he had shed and the ones he was attempting to hold back.

That night, he painfully got into bed.

Alone.

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[evilhausen]

If you are having fun with it, then it is not a failure. That said, could I request Hook learning that Danhausen is a real demon?

you are incredibly sweet :”’’ and yes you absolutely can bc that prompt Fucks, sorry it took a few days and holy fuck did it get out of hand. it also got dark.

cw for: violence, implied sexual violence, inebriation, minor sexual content, vague bullshit.

Late as it is, most young people have migrated home or to better clubs. The pub that Hook is in is seedy, smokey, and so quiet by now he can pick out individual conversations among the straggling groups.

The bar is sticky beneath the side of his hand which only adds to the mix of steadily frustrating sensations in the place, but it’s still a better deal than the clubs.

“We’re gonna dip,” one of his friends says, knocking her elbow against him. She’s as buzzed as he is but clearly having a much better time for it. Their small group is gathering their stuff, downing the last of their drinks, clearly ready to hit a livelier scene.

Hook was hoping going out tonight would release the tension that’s been growing in him lately, but it hasn’t. The thought of now going to a proper club with its flashing strobes, shitty remixes, and too-tight squeeze of bodies on a floor far stickier than the bar beneath his hand makes his nose wrinkle.

No way, no thanks. “Nah, I’m good. Probably head home after this,” he says, trying not to be rude but staying firm when she pouts. She’s concerned about him, has that look about her that says as much, and that should be nice, right? It should be nice that someone cares.

A nicer person would feel bad at the irritation that flares in Hook, but he can’t bring himself to be bothered. On a normal day, he might try, but things have been frustrating him at work lately and he’s been thinking too much. He feels tired. He feels wound up. Restless but strung out.

He ignores her and returns to his drink, taking a low draw from the amber beverage that’s already too flat to be pleasant. A dirty glass will do that, and the place is such a dive he’s not surprised. 

He gets a pat on the arm and a kiss on the cheek as his friends leave, both irritating him, but he offers a nod and a wave. Then he’s alone, save for the bartender, two ragtag groups of middle-aged drunkards, and a few wallowing solo drinkers.

Hook doesn’t like wallowing. He’ll brood, mope, and be antisocial all he likes, but wallowing? That’s boring. So he slides back off his bar stool, abandoning his drink, and heads over to the pool table and prepares to practise.

The triangle rack is already set up, waiting to lure people in for a game, and Hook is all too happy to sink into the familiarity of it, picking up a random cue stick and chalking it without care for the size or weighting of it. He’ll play a little, just until he’s calmed down. It doesn’t have to be good.

He’s not a pro pool player by any stretch, but having a table at home and a father who doesn’t pull punches with his competitiveness has made it a casual hobby. 

The stillness as he lines up his shot and the satisfying, loud clack as he breaks brings him into the moment, tugging him out of his own head and grounding him. He scowls at the table a little, unhappy with the sloppy break, but it gives him something to focus in on.

He can blame it on the way balancing is a little difficult, on how his palms are a bit sticky and his vision unsteady, alcohol buzzing in his body and loosening him up. It’s just practice, he tells himself. He works on his angle shots instead of taking easy ones, overthinking and trying out new things because this isn’t a game and Taz isn’t here to laugh at him, so it’s fine.

It’s less fine that after he makes a good shot he automatically looks up for the approval or disapproval from his father, only to find him not there. Only to find there’s another man, a strange one, looking at him instead.

It’s not a nice look. The man doesn’t seem like a nice man.

There’s a few of them sitting at their tall table, five strangers that are bigger and older, wearing expressions that are as silently threatening as their understated clothing.

Each time Hook looks up and meets those eyes, he winds up tighter. The feeling is not unfamiliar, whatever it is. In fact, it’s the feeling that’s been undermining him at work. He doesn’t know what to call it, trying to ignore it, but it lingers in him. It’s the same feeling.

Why?

To release some tension, Hook takes his gum out of his pocket and unwraps two pieces, working his jaw and rolling his shoulders as he tries to shake off the climbing anticipation.

It feels like nerves before a match, except he doesn’t know the game he’s playing. The sport he’s competing in. How can he fight and win if he doesn’t know what fucking competition he’s in?

Logically, he knows he’s the wrong side of tipsy. Logically, he knows he should back down and head home when the staring stranger and his friends make their way over to his pool table. There’s another table free but they come up to his.

Hook does not head home. He stands and looks at the apparent leader of the group, tilting his head to the side in silent question as they approach. The guy grins, a quick flash of a smile that tries to be genuine but is terribly played, and Hook raises an eyebrow. “Saw you playin’,” the leader begins, nodding at the messy work on the table. “Wondering if you wanted some competition?”

Hook enjoys winning. He’s been raised that way and it’s in his blood. He nods, splaying one arm wide in a gesture of ‘help yourself’. Three of the men pick up their own pool cues and the game begins, the one who had been staring joining the leader, a random other joining Hook. It’s a doubles game, but loose on the rules.

It’s downhill from there.

Hook watches and plays and tries to keep practising his angle shots, but it gets annoying when the other players interfere. Hook enjoys winning.

He’s lost his second game when he gets sick of it, knowing how they’re looking at him in quiet mockery. They think he’s a kid. Inexperienced. Lazy. How long will he have to endure those looks from people? Just like work. It’s all just like work.

He goes to the standing rack of pool cues and puts his current, too short and heavy one down, testing out two more before he finds one he thinks he can work with. Freshly chalked, he rejoins the group and waits for the next game.

Starting the bet is not his idea.

“Fifteen bucks if we win,” the leader bets. Hook’s partner looks at him, quick and fidgety, taking the deal too fast. Danhausen would’ve waited, deferring to Hook because there’s a curious sort of starstruck fixation there.

Hook doesn’t have cash on him, he doesn’t want to bet, but he does anyway. Why? Why can’t he lose?

But he does, and he’s wound up again by the end of it. Every shot he’d make would be undone by his partner, or he was jostled on purpose, or...

That little fucker of a partner sabotaged him. The three of them were working him, underhanded in how they did it, just for fifteen dollars?

They really thought he was just some dumb kid.

“A hundred. Formal rules. Two players.” Hook is sober enough he knows he shouldn’t. He’s drunk enough that he doesn’t care. There’s not many people left, the lights are low, the music is turned down. He’ll be kicked out soon, the bar closing earlier than the clubs, and that will be his night over.

He’s too keyed up for it to be over.

(He thinks about the man staring at him and what it made him feel.)

Chewing gum doesn’t make for good bubbles, but Hook still blows one until it pops with a snap.

“You talk big, kid,” the Starer tells him. Kid. There it is. “Don’t do it, then.” Hook shrugs, shoving his free hand into the pocket of his hoodie.

The way the three men eye each other, the others of their friend group hiding laughter, makes Hook’s skin prickle. 

“Alright, calm down. A hundred it is.”

The game begins and Hook won’t lose.

Tension makes the break stuffy, but Hook is playing to win now. It’s no longer practise. He’s in a match and he’s there to get the title and–

“You fucker,” Staring man seethes, four moves in. “You little fucking hustler.”

Hook didn’t mean to hustle, but he guesses he has. It’s satisfying, even if he hadn’t meant to. Maybe he’d be a good heel in the future. As long as he doesn’t have to give a big monologue or wear weird outfits, he wouldn’t mind it.

He’s lining up his next shot, bent over the table with eyes fixed on his prize, when a big hand comes down to shove him. Not expecting it, he stumbles, dropping his cue and catching the table awkwardly to stop from falling.

Now, this he knows.

This, Hook will never lose at or second-guess.

His fist connects with his attacker’s face before his mind has caught up, instinct and muscle memory making it easy to escalate.

As the man stumbles back, spitting swears and holding his face, Hook advances, bright-eyed and hungry for a good fight. It’s the easiest thing in the world to grab the much larger man by the front of his shirt and pull him into another jab to the face, and another, and another, until blinding pain snaps over Hook’s back.

It knocks the air from him, and as he turns to defend, he sees one of the men standing there holding a pool cue defensively. 

Hook holds his own, takes his blows like a fighter and gives more than he gets, but it’s him versus the five men. There had been a bouncer at the door, but nobody steps in to save Hook. He’s on his own.

He’s no lightweight but he’s picked up and slammed down on the surface of the pool table, spine and hip catching on pool balls, alcohol numbing the pain but making him slower than he usually would be.

There’s a man between his legs and it’s almost like a pin, almost like work. It’s not. The fist that curls in the front of his hair, getting a good grip full of it, yanks his head forward and slams it back in a way that’s vicious and sloppy.

Foot sliding against something, he searches blindly with his toes (when did he lose a shoe?) until he feels the soft part of a body, drawing his leg back then driving it back in savagely and delighting in the cry of pain he gets in response.

“Let me go,” he demands, spitting his gum at someone, not seeing it land.

He’s pinned, though. So many hands hold him down, one in particular pinching the sides of his cheeks, squishing his mouth into a pout, and finally he focuses in on a face. The man above him is angry, but it’s an ugly anger. No passion, all swollen bluster.

The thrill is missing. There’s no love for sport, for wrestling. No spark. No respect for loving violence. Body between his legs, big hand on his face, a figure looming over him… Hook likes it. The desire to relax into it is there, but he’s scared. Unsafe.

He’s scared?

That’s news to him, but he stills as he realises the men leaning over him are not warriors but wax figures waiting to coat him in heavy, coating influence. They are not here for him or to fight, but for themselves. That is where the fear comes from, he thinks. Pillowy selfishness without hunger.

The hand is on his throat now and he is still. Two hands on his calf, pulling it down. Another shoving his arm, yanking it, angling it into an uncomfortable strain. There are hands on his throat, warm thumbs slick under his jaw, pressing, palms denting the sides of his neck.

This is not practice.

His head is spinning and he tries to tap out. Remembers training with Taz as a child. With Nese, in preparation, shoving at each other. With Starks, breaking the ice a little and listening to him talk away as they stretch. With Danhausen, pushing boundaries and getting frustrated and choking him out and the confusion and the–

Is this what happened to Danhausen when Hook choked him out?

It had felt good to Hook. Important. They’d been close, something shifting between them, but. He’d tried to tap out but Hook hadn’t let go. Hadn’t been able to. There is red jumping across his dimming vision, making his stomach jolt like dipping vertigo. He tried to swallow, tried to choke on his own spit, but he couldn’t even manage that. The way he could feel his pulse was so intimate. Overwhelming.

He hoped it hadn’t felt like this to Danhausen.

“D–” Hook tried. He wanted this to stop. He tried kicking again, but he felt slow. Wasn’t sure if he actually managed it. “Danhausen.” He wanted to know. Had it felt like this? The sparkling red washing down over his eyes and heralding dark unconscious.

The table gives out beneath Hook and he’s slammed to the ground, the hands growing around his throat. Or maybe he’s shrinking? His pulse won’t stop jumping in his ears.

When the pressure suddenly eases, Hook chokes on his desperate inhale. Lucidity comes back to him like a smack to the face and he scrambles to sit up, only to find…

He’s alone.

He’s alone in the darkened, closed-up bar, sitting on the ground by the pool table.

The silence is uncomfortable, like all noise has been swallowed by the dark shadows where the glowing red lights above the bar itself don’t reach. Hook can hear his own rasping breaths, panicked and shallow until he makes the effort to calm the fuck down.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he drags his fingers back through his hair out of habit. There’s nobody here to look good for, but he tries to calm the wild fluff of his hair anyway, dragging fingers through as he looks around the room.

It’s so quiet.

No music, no murmurs of other conversation, and no signs of life.

Hook’s hands slow. 

No sounds of wind outside. No traffic. Nothing.

He raises a hand and clicks his fingers by his ear. There’s been times he’s hit his head and hasn’t been able to hear for a few minutes, but that’s not the case this time, apparently. He can hear the clicks just fine.

Taking a deep breath, a faint smell of cigarette smoke and something like spiced alcohol touching his taste buds, he gathers himself up slowly and gets to his feet. He feels strangely clear-headed, focused and grounded in a way that’s usually a struggle unless he’s in the ring or an hour deep into a workout. Warmth blankets him, stuffy with a pressure that’s only comforting.

No alcohol in his system anymore, nothing lingering to give him a headache or nausea. How long has it been? Why did they leave him here?

Something scratched the floor behind the bar, less like a person than a rodent, rhythmic and unhurried. Hook frowns, taking a step to go around the pool table to reach the bar. As soon as his foot touches the ground, the noise stops.

“Hey,” he tries, projecting his voice with authority.

The front door of the bar slams open behind him, and after the heavy silence of the place, it seems to echo in Hook’s head. It brings with it wind, a tunnel of it sweeping into the room. The chill of it is pleasant against Hook’s over-warm skin and it carries the smoked spice smell he had thought was just the bar. There’s nobody in the doorway, nothing to suggest anybody has opened it, and the wind blows harder to swing it on its hinges.

Shit.

Had those fuckers slipped something into his drink? Was he tripping balls right now?

Maybe he was unconscious on the pool table, those heavy hands pawing over him. Or maybe he was dead on the pavement outside the bar.

There’s only darkness outside, and that’s the worst bit. The red light in the bar doesn’t touch beyond the doorway, and there are no stars or streetlights outside. As the wind dies down, it takes all sounds with it.

When it’s quiet again, Hook feels like he can’t breathe. Breathing would be sound, it would be movement, and he feels like that’s not safe. Something primal in him tells him he should not move.

Something clatters on the ground behind him. He doesn’t want to look at it. He doesn’t want to look away from the doorway.

But he can’t not.

Licking the sweat away from his upper lip, he moves his body without taking his eyes away from the doorway. It’s not until his eyes sting that he tears his gaze away, looking at the object laying at his feet.

Long and thin, he doesn’t know what it is at first. He doesn’t want to get close, but the longer he has his back to the door, the more the back of his neck prickles. Bending down, it still takes a while to figure out what it is.

A lone metal rod lays there, unassuming in a way that feels like a lie. It almost looks like a large nail. A needle of some kind.

When cold fingers touch his ears he hunches his shoulders, ducking down but not away. There is no fear in him, not even as they slip around to hold his throat. It’s ticklish and freezing, leaving trails of chill on the surface of his skin as they run up over his jaw. He doesn’t move, except to close his eyes complacently when the fingers slide up to cover them.

He does fight back when they pull him back roughly, strength undeniably as his stomach flips with the sensation of falling. Bracing himself for impact, he tries to twist to lessen the damage, eyes flying open, and looks down at the phone in his hands.

Hook is sitting on the sidewalk, back propped up against the brick wall of the bar, staring at his phone. He is not falling. He hasn’t fallen.

His neck hurts for a second, but as he runs a shaking hand over it, the ache subsides like it was never there. The street is lit, the occasional car driving past in a smudge of headlights and heat.

Action Bronson’s SubZero plays as Hook’s phone vibrates and the screen flashes Danhausen’s name.

Hook accepts the call, but before he can speak, a car pulls up with a rush of cold wind, the door slamming open as Danhausen scrambles out. His phone is at his ear and he’s grinning widely, waving at Hook with his free hand.

“Hello!” He greets, voice playing in delayed stereo with the delay from the phone. “I found you!”

Ending the call, Hook looks up at his tagteam partner, narrowing his eyes.

“Hook did want to be found, yes? That is why you called?”

Hook thinks he remembers calling him. Probably. “You could have used your phone before you found me.”

“Danhausen’s hands were busy. Hook was in trouble.” Danhausen is wearing a full face of makeup, black, white, and grey painted on meticulously. He was either already wearing it when Hook called him or he took the time to apply it. Neither option is less strange.

“I’m fine.” Hook does not feel fine.

“Fine now that you are saved.” Danhausen offers a smile that is all teeth, but his eyes are flat and focused. He pockets his phone and holds both hands out, as though Hook cannot get to his feet on his own. Hook takes them, not needing the support but accepting it, wrapping his fingers around cold flesh and hauling himself up. Danhausen staggers and readjusts well, leaning back dramatically far to balance.

The drive is comfortably quiet. Danhausen knows where Hook lives and knows not to play any music for the ride.

“What did Hook mean?” Danhausen asks, breaking the comfort.

Hook hums, not looking over from where he is very focused on the rattle of the car window against his forehead.

“On the mobile cell-o-phone, he apologised. You said, “I am sorry.” You were sorry to Donovan. Danhausen would like to know what Hook meant?”

No memory surfaces for that one, so he doesn’t have an answer. “Don’t remember.”

“Oh. Alcohol does this, I think. Makes the mind go. Hook remembers nothing?”

Hook remembers plenty, just. Only of the dream he’d been having.

Just a dream.

“Why are you wearing the– Why the face?” Hook asks.

“This is Danhausen’s face.”

“No, I mean–” Hook tries. He’s tired. “It’s your old look, right? I’ve seen pictures.”

There’s silence, and as much as it itches at Hook’s skin he doesn’t turn. It lasts far longer than quiet usually does in Danhausen’s presence.

“... Unfortunately,” finally surfaces, forcibly dismissive in a way that sounds like the verbal version of a shrug.

The matter is left alone and they don’t talk about anything but potential takeaway options for the rest of the drive. It lingers, though. Hours later when Hook is alone, laying in bed sipping water from his favourite mug, it still lingers. He presses his tongue to the familiar chip in the rim, scraping the tip along the sharp of it. He remembers red. Cold. Hands on him.

He remembers things so clearly, for a dream. It had been fine, then he’d fallen, hadn’t he?

After he’d said Danhausen’s name, he’d fallen into the dream.

Blushing in embarrassment before he even opens his mouth, he feels so stupid as he says it now. “Danhausen,” with his teeth catching the ceramic of the mug.

Fucking stupid.

Sleep isn’t coming and Hook needs a shower. The ritual of cleaning always helps him calm down, a go-to when the sensations punching against each sense is too much to handle. 

Urgency in his jerky movements, he makes his way out of his room, only to freeze on the threshold. The hallways is dark. Not dark enough he couldn’t see. It’s not like he’s scared of the dark. 

( There’s something missing though, isn’t there? Something that’s supposed to be in the dark that’s not there. )

Hook takes another sip of his water and walks to the bathroom. It’ll be fine after a shower.

Setting his mug down on the sink, he runs through his hygiene rituals before turning the shower on and stripping down. As he waits for the water to heat up he checks himself in the mirror, looking over familiar flesh for fresh bruises. Old marks from work mark him in fading browns, but there’s nothing new. 

Leaning over the sink to get closer to the mirror, Hook looks at his neck and the absence of bruising. There’s nothing there, new or old, but he knows that it happened. That man had held him, choked him, he knows.

But there’s nothing there.

When he lifts his hands to his throat, crossed over so he can lay them over the remembered sensation of the stranger holding him down, his whole body stiffens against his will. He wants to pull away but his thumbs dig under his jaw. Fingers tightening, palms curling and clamping down, he’s choking again. He can’t look away from the skin pinched beneath the grip, reddening with fresh pain.

Letting go sends a full shudder through him, violent enough his knees slam against the sink cabinet and his hip catches the edge of it. As he leans forward, oxygen rattling into and through him in a way that is so, so familiar, he feels the way his dick presses against the cabinet and realises he’s hard.

“Fuck.” He can’t look at himself in the mirror. “Fuck it.” Why is this still happening? He’s been trying to hard to ignore it, he’s been so good at not– At leaving it alone. 

Turning to the shower with a jolt of movement, a rush toward a salvation he won’t find, he knocks his mug off the sink edge. He looks down just in time to see it explode over the tiles, scattering absolutely everywhere.

Hook feels nothing but defeat as he crouches and begins picking up the pieces. It’s now that he thinks he might be cursed. Should he laugh or yell? It’s hysterical. The sound building up in his chest deflates with a hiss as he cuts his finger while picking up a shard of his recently deceased mug. He’s not hard anymore.

It’s not the pain he’s into, after all.

Just the violence.

Pain makes him panic, because it means he’s losing. It means he executed a move wrong. Pain is a reason to fight back and not allow loss.

It meant tagging out to save face.

For the third time that night, Hook says the name of his eccentric tagteam partner.

Danhausen. Eyes closed, finger stinging, and body stiff where he’s crouching naked on his bathroom floor, broken pieces scooped into his bleeding hands, Hook whispers his name. His stomach swoops, butterflies coming free of tight cocoons inside him.

There’s a knock on the door.

Hook knows exactly who he’ll find on the other side.

He tries to remember what the Bible says about letting demons into your home. He tries to remember if they lie, or if Danhausen will tell him the truth about what he did to those men at the bar. He tries to remember a time when he didn’t dream of Danhausen kissing him goodnight before choking him to death.

He can’t remember anything but a bright, hungry red.

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

Hello! I saw your asks open and i wanted to request some angst headcanons with dad!Asmo. I just read Luci's and oh man that sure hurt my heart, you write angst so well!

Unwanted (Dad!Asmo x F!Reader) ANGST

A/N : Mammon plays a really big part in this, just as Beel played a big role in the dad!Lucifer fic. It's never hinted whether they're together or not, it's kind of up to the imagination... but if you'd like, I can write a part two to this??? (I will also, to anyone who might want it, write a part two to the dad!Lucifer fic)

Word Count : 2.3K Warnings : pregnancy ; children ; maternity ; babies ; hinted abortion ; angst ;

He never wanted children, he didn’t want anything that would actually tie him down to anything or anyone. It wasn’t his “thing”, and you both had done everything to prevent it from happening. Up until now, everything had worked, there had never been one mistake, but the both of you got sloppy. There was a party, and… well, you loved him, and he had said that he loved you, and precautions weren’t a “thing” at that moment. One slip up, one mistake, and now everything was falling apart.

“I didn’t want this. I don’t want that.” He spat the words at you, pointing towards your stomach. He had only stopped pacing long enough to say it before starting again, walking the length of his room as he gnawed at his perfectly manicured fingers. You hadn’t expected anything different from him, but it still hurt that he was blaming the whole thing on you, as if it didn’t take 50/50 participation to make something like this happen. “It’ll completely ruin my image. A child with a human! It’ll be all over the tabloids, in every magazine… I can’t have that.” His behavior shouldn’t have been that shocking to you, but to hear just how selfish he really was, to know that he thought so little of you, it hurt way worse than you ever thought it would. One moment he was professing his love to you, and now he’s disgusted with you. It could have been that your emotions were running high from the situation, or maybe the hormones had just taken over completely, but you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and you wanted to fight him. “Your image?! This thing could kill me and all you care about is your stupid public persona… Screw you! I wish I never fell in love with you.” His eyes went soft, and for a moment you thought that maybe he’d apologize, maybe he was rethinking his own words, his actions, that maybe you’d be able to be a team to work through this mess. You were wrong, you were so wrong. “Wish all you want, we both know you’d have never been able to resist me.” Narcissistic, selfish, he was just awful. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to fight back the tears as you walked past him. He didn’t deserve your last words, he didn’t deserve anything. He didn’t deserve you.

The twelfth week was supposed to be the most exciting. It was when most couples would finally make their announcements, happily tell family and friends that they were expecting. Your twelfth week was a nightmare. You were trapped in the Devildom, human doctors wouldn’t know what the hell was going on if they delivered a child with horns, a child so angelically demonic that they’d probably call the hospital priest to your room as soon as they saw it. The only place where you’d be able to safely deliver a child like this and live through it would be in the Devildom. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to relieve yourself of the problem. You had gone to Lucifer, Satan, Barbatos, even Lord Diavolo, asking them if there was any way that they could just… get rid of it. Sadly, Asmodeus wasn’t just a narcissistic, selfish prick, he was also sadistic. None of them could do anything without Asmodeus’ approval since it was his child too. Every time one of them asked him, he would refuse. He didn’t even give a reason, he just wanted to see you suffer. Strangely, you had found comfort and solace in Mammon. You were pretty sure he was only helping because he still had a crush on you, but he became your emotional, mental, and physical support throughout everything. You had told him many times that he didn’t have to basically “fill in” for Asmo, but he insisted that it was the least he could do considering his little brother was being a dick. He wasn’t just your support at the house, he was… invested in the child that Asmo hadn’t wanted. He took you to doctors appointments, sometimes even getting in the way of the doctor as he pointed to the ultrasound screen. He was so excited that most people just assumed it was his kid, and he never denied it either. It was just easier that way, to go along with whatever the other demons said because he knew that any mention of Asmo would upset you and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Some days the both of you would sit on the couch in the living room, flipping through the pages of maternity books. He’d really try to understand the diagrams on the pages, but you could tell that he was confused and sometimes he’d even look up at you from the pages, and then down at your stomach, and then up at you, before looking back down at the pages. It was cute, and you’d giggle lightly, resting your head on his shoulder as you continued flipping through the pages. He had become the only person in the house that you felt like you could fully trust and rely on. Everyone else wanted to stay out of the drama, nobody wanted to get involved, but Mammon wasn’t there for the drama, he was only there for you, he was there when you needed him.

“Can you believe him? Can you believe both of them? We haven’t even broken up and they’re sleeping together, she’s even wearing his clothes. It’s ridiculous, and Mammon is out there playing dad with my kid.” Asmo sat on the edge of the counter, voicing his complaints to anyone who would listen. Sadly it was Beel’s turn since he was the only one in the kitchen right now. Most of the time the other brothers would just hide themselves away, not wanting to deal with Asmo right now, but Beel had gotten hungry and he really thought he’d be lucky enough to avoid his brother. “I don’t know what the big deal is… You didn’t want the kid anyway.” He wasn’t going to walk on eggshells around Asmo, he wasn’t going to lie to make anyone feel better. In Beel’s eyes, Asmo was completely in the wrong. “If Y/N is finding some sort of happiness in spending time with Mammon, who are you to complain? It stopped being your place when you said you didn’t want it.” He shrugged before grabbing his plate and going straight back to his room. He wasn’t going to continue listening to it, but he hoped that he had left Asmo with something to really think about. He walked up the stairs, going straight to the bedroom door, knocking loudly. He wasn’t going to stop until someone opened the door either. Mammon got up from the bed that you both had been propped up on, rolling his eyes as he walked over to his door, groaning loudly when he saw Asmo standing there. “Whaddaya want? We don’t need ya here… yer just gonna stress ‘er out.” He was trying to talk quietly, not wanting you to hear him or even know who was there. He was so protective of you, he wouldn’t let anyone else serve your food during meals, he’d even stand outside the bathroom door whenever you were in there just to make sure you didn’t fall or hurt yourself. Asmo pushed his way into the room much to Mammon’s annoyance. “I don’t care, Mammon. Y/N isn’t yours, and neither is the child. They’re both mine, and I’d like to have a word with her.” He said snidely, but Mammon wasn’t going to have it. Brother or not, he cared too much about you, he had worked so hard to help you get over what Asmo had done, and he wasn’t going to let him waltz back in and ruin everything. Mammon wasn’t weak, he was way stronger than he looked, and right now he was showing his strength, grabbing Asmo’s arm and practically throwing him out of the room. His teeth were barred and the growl that was coming from him sounded feral, animalistic, it was terrifying. “Neither of them are yers! I’ve been there fer everything, every doctor visit, I even bought a damn room fer the kid and she’s sleepin’ in my room, next ta me, and a next ta Y/N. Ya know why?! ‘Cause ya don’t jus’ get ta come back when ya fine’ly realize that ya fucked up! Now… leave us alone. We don’t need ya here.” He left Asmo out in the hallway, crumpled against the wall as he walked back into the room. “She…” Asmo kept repeating the word as he pushed himself up off the floor. He was having a daughter, and he hadn’t even known about it, he wouldn’t have known about it if Mammon hadn’t screamed at him. It was strange how knowing made things more real, it made him care more, and the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you. He didn’t know how to fix what he had done, but he knew that he had to try at least. “Lucifer…” “I don’t want things to be like this when she gets here. It’s not going to be long either.” You sighed, finally relaxing once more in the bed once Mammon got in next to you. “Why was he here anyway?” Mammon shrugged, focusing all of his attention on your stomach trying to calm himself. He liked watching it move, he thought it was neat.

The delivery was smoother than you thought it would be, and Mammon only fainted twice during the whole thing, so he did pretty good. Delivering a child in the Devildom had its perks, the main one being that you didn’t have to stay more than one day in the hospital to recover. They did some spell and you were completely fine. It was strange, but you appreciated it greatly. The only issue with the perk was that it meant you were going back home and that meant you’d have to face Asmo. She looked so much like him, and you could tell that Mammon was upset by it. Even though he knew she wasn’t actually his, he wished that she didn’t look so much like her father. Her eyes were his exact color, and it left you speechless when she first opened them, gazing up at you with wonder and curiosity. She was precious, and she was yours. As you walked through the door you were met with balloons and streamers, and Asmo. You heard Mammon growl quietly, and you quickly held your hand out to him, silently begging him to stop. He was holding the carseat and you didn’t need him to lose his temper right now. “I just wanted to welcome her home, welcome you home. I bought some things for her, they’re outside of Mammon’s door.” Asmo said nervously, and for once he was terrified of being rejected. “We don’t need noth-” Mammon had started, but you quickly shook your head, pleading to him with your eyes to just stay calm. He groaned loudly, eyeing Asmo angrily before walking past him to the stairs. “Fine. She’s prob’ly hungry… I’m gonna feed ‘er. Ya comin’ up?” You nodded quickly, making sure he got up the stairs alright before turning back to Asmo. “What are you doing, Asmo?”

He moved into the living room, waiting for you to sit down before he did, and he looked scared, he looked sad. Of course you didn’t like seeing him like this, but it was his fault, he had caused all of this. “I don’t want to be alone. I know that sounds selfish, that I’m making this about myself again, but I’m not trying to. When Mammon told me… he said she… It's a girl?” You nodded slowly and you saw his face light up for only a second before it left once more. “I was scared, I am scared… I didn’t know if I’d be a good… father. I never saw myself as one, but seeing Mammon, and he’s doing so well… I never saw him as a father either… I thought that maybe, since he could… that maybe I could too.” He sighed, bringing his hand back up to his lips to chew at his fingers again, his orange eyes glistening with the tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “I know that what I said was wrong… I was rude. I didn’t think I’d have a problem finding someone to take my mind off of everything, but I was wrong. I love you, and nobody else is going to take your place, nobody else can take your place.” You both sat on the couch in silence, his tears finally falling as he waited for you to say something, and yours building up as you tried to think of something to say. “This isn’t fair… You know this isn’t fair. You can’t… you can’t pick and choose when you want to be a dad. You weren’t there… and you made it very clear that you didn’t want her. I… I can’t do this Asmo… I’m sorry… They’re waiting for me… I-I have to go.” You took a deep breath as you stood from the couch, wiping your tears with the back of your hands as you started walking to the stairs. “Y/N…” He walked up behind you, grabbing your hand to stop you. You didn’t turn around to face him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, but he didn’t mind. He was actually thankful that you didn’t look at him, because what he was about to say was the hardest thing he’d ever have to say in his life. “I know that I’m unwanted… But… If I may… Can I meet her? Just once? Please?”