#i refuse to say it gets better BUT we find each other and take care of each other

[sparkbirdmusic]

hiii i’m sparkbird (they/them)

that’s georgie (she/her)

like many of my listeners, i’m queer and neurodivergent

i know a lot of my listeners:

- are minors

- live in red states

- can’t be out to their families or at school

and i just want to say hi, i see you, you matter to me

keep being you, keep making up your silly gay characters

the world needs you, your thoughts, your art

keep being you, even if you need to be you quietly to survive

in the meantime, i’ll keep being me loudly for you

I’ll do everything I can to keep my shows safe, and to keep putting out music that can inspire you, make you feel seen, and offer an escape

I’ll keep amplifying your art

and @silveradash (Sparkbird Discord server admin, Minecraft server admin, and community liaison) and all the amazing mods will ensure the Discord and Minecraft servers stay safe, too

you matter to all of us

here’s a hopeful song:

[coreene]

When companions reject to do the love test with you...

... they are not pulling back any punches xD Here are the burns you can bestow upon Tav by asking someone with low approval to join you for the love test.

Shadowheart

Partnered - It can't hurt, I suppose - unless you embarrass me. Then you might find yourself hurting in a whole manner of ways. (half-joking warning to a lover.)

High Approval - Love, is it? I hadn't realised I'd bowled you over that much. Give it a try, then - impress me. (playful)

Positive Approval - I say you'd better start looking for your true love, because it's not me.

Negative Approval - What do I say? Melon... donkey... sunrise? Whichever words will get you to leave me out of this.

Lae'zel

Partnered - Yes. But be warned - I play to win.

High Approval - Chk. I don't see the harm.

Positive Approval - Not today. Or any other time, come to think of it.

Negative Approval - I'd sooner slice off both my hands and feed them to a rabid boar.

Karlach

Partnered - Yes, yes, yes! Let's do it!

High Approval - Hah! Absolutely. This is gonna be great fun.

Positive Approval - Mmm, I don't think so. Seems a little... I don't know. Just no.

Negative Approval - With you? Please. That story's written in stone, and it ends with you on one side of the world and me on the other.

Astarion

Partnered - Oh my love, how could I say no?

High Approval - Oh I'm the one you love? Well my dear, how could I say no?

Positive Approval - A sweet gesture, but all... this? It's not really for me. (refusing to take a 'love test' from a dryad.)

Negative Approval - Wait, I'm the one you love? Oh no - oh that's so sad. (shocked, laughing - someone he didn't like just asked Astarion to take a love test with them) But no, there's absolutely no way this is happening. (amused, but emphatically refusing to take a 'love test' from a dryad)

Wyll

Partnered - I'm more than game. Let's do it.

High Approval - Why not? Could be good for a laugh.

Positive Approval - I don't think so. But I appreciate the offer.

Negative Approval - No. Just no.

Minsc

Approval over 50 - Minsc is flattered, but surely you must know that his heart is already of the hamster shape. And twice as fuzzy. (player has just propositioned Minsc to have their prospects as lovers be estimated by a dryad - tone is affectionate)

Approval under 50 - ...Boo? Does our friend know another Minsc? One that they might be courting, perhaps? (player has just propositioned Minsc to have their prospects as lovers be estimated by a dryad - tone is dumbfounded, a stage whisper to Boo)

Jaheira

Approval over 50 - I'm flattered, but pick another. Watching the dryad make you cry will be entertainment enough.

Approval under 50 - Hm? Oh, the dryad is comely enough - but you? Don't poke at questions you don't want the answer to, cub.

Gale

Partnered - Thoroughly magical. Let's have at it. (enthusiastic)

High Approval - Well, if you insist... (slight hesitation)

Positive Approval - Perhaps you're overestimating my affection towards you a tad? You'd better seek a partner-in-embarrassment elsewhere. (unconvinced)

Negative Approval - No thank you. Sounds as appealing as milking cottage cheese directly from a geriatric cow. (ruthlessly disinterested)

Minthara

Partnered - I know my heart - and yours - better than this creature ever will. But we can indulge it if you wish.

High Approval - Fine. But if this creature can truly look into my heart, it best be careful what it reveals.

Positive Approval - The creature need not look into our hearts to see that I barely tolerate your existence.

Negative Approval - No. And if you refer to me as 'my dear' again, I will cut out your tongue.

Halsin

Partnered - Gladly. We each know the other's heart to the fullest - there is little to fear here.

Partnered (secondary) -  I thought you may have bestowed the honour on someone else. But if this is what you wish, so be it.

High Approval - I suppose we've braved greater dangers together than public embarrassment. Do as you wish.

Positive Approval - You flatter me... but also overestimate our bond, I think. Perhaps there is another you can turn to.

Negative Approval - Nature is my true love. You, I merely tolerate. (scornful)

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 17] Father and Son

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Satoru tries to make up for the past four years of Ren’s life in a matter of weeks. His focus drastically changes, from his work to his son. He ignores the matter of so many people knowing before him, he avoids his mother and his so-called friends. His main and only priority is his son.

You both wish you could say that your relationship has gotten better, but you don’t really speak to each other unless it’s about the son you share. You’re hopeless that it’ll progress past what you have. Neither of you have the courage to bring up the situation, either way, your attention should be on Ren. 

Ren is finally meeting the man that he’s been dreaming of, and he’s getting to know his father after four years. You’re mostly excited for your son, while also regretting hiding it when you had the chance to tell him. Your relationship is the last thing on your mind– It’s certainly the last thing in Satoru’s mind.

He visits daily, bearing many gifts for his son. Satoru has become a regular at the toy store, buying something each day for his son, something that he thinks Ren would like. He hopes that material stuff will make up for the time wasted. Sometimes he brings some candy, but he doesn’t do it often. Satoru is still his father, he can’t just spoil him rotten, he also has to care for Ren’s wellbeing. He’s slowly growing accustomed to becoming a parent.

“What’s this, Ren?” Satoru holds up a cute white cat plush, one that Satoru always finds on the bed. He wonders if that’s the toy his son has had ever since he was a baby, he guesses it is since Satoru feels like he’s seen it in the background of a picture before.

“It’s whiskers.” Ren answers, taking the plush from his father and putting it back on the bed. That’s before he turns to other matters. Ren doesn’t mind sharing his toys (because you’ve been the one raising him), but whiskers is someone that Ren doesn’t like anyone touching. Anyone and anything can get the toy dirty, and when that happens, you refuse to let the toy on the bed, at least not before you wash it and get it clean again.

Satoru doesn’t bother to ask if that’s the plush that he sleeps with, because that’s most certainly a yes. Ren wants to talk about other important matters though so Satoru gives his undivided attention to his son. Ren then asks, “Are you sleeping over?”

“Uhm… No.” Satoru answers. You most certainly wouldn’t want that. Plus, Satoru has a wife at home who has her suspicions that something is going on. He doubts that she’ll care too much, but he wants to keep Ren protected from the world. If Sayo finds out, so does her family, and if her family knows, the whole world will know. “But I’ll stay until you fall asleep, Ren.”

“I want you to stay.” Ren sticks out his bottom lip, obviously disappointed that his father isn’t staying for the night. You let him on your bed all the time and you sleep together, why can’t he do the same thing with his father? Satoru can’t help but feel bad, so he thinks of how to respond to cheer him up.

You commented how you had plans of going on a small trip with Ren before summer ended, but summer evidently has come to an end. It’s colder now and the leaves are changing color. Satoru finally decides, “We can go on a trip soon, and we’ll be together all day every day.”

“Really?” The little boy’s eyes light up, making the biggest smile come to Satoru’s lips. Satoru now wonders how he was ever happy without him– Well, with you… But that memory slowly fades away since your relationship is now filled with awkwardness. Satoru nods his head in response. He can lie and make it a business trip, it’s not an issue for him really.

“We’ll have to talk to your mommy first, honey. Then we can plan it all.” Satoru answers, and Ren turns around to go look for you. Satoru feels awkward sitting alone on a bed that’s far too low and small for him. He stands up and follows Ren. They both look for you around the apartment until they land in your bedroom. The bathroom door is closed, and Ren immediately knows what to do.

Ren opens the door to the bathroom, and you immediately make eye contact with Satoru. Your face grows hot of embarrassment, and obviously Ren doesn’t see an issue with it. Ren’s issue is when he actually steps into the bathroom, and he just has to comment, “It stinks.”

“Yeah, I wonder why. Get out, Ren, and close the door!” You raise your voice, your embarrassment getting the best of you. Ren closes the door, leaving you to it, and Satoru chuckles. He ruffles Ren’s hair as both walk out of your bedroom.

“You gotta learn how to knock, baby. Give your mommy some privacy.” Satoru says, but it goes one ear out the other. Ren isn’t going to knock, you’re his mommy. If you want your privacy you better lock the door. They take a seat in the living room, where Ren grabs the remote to put on a movie. He knows how to get the movie he wants, even when he’s just learning how to read and spell.

“Where do you want to go?” Satoru asks, wondering where his son wants to go. Ren drops the remote on the couch, putting his tiny index finger on his chin, humming and tilting his head to the side as he thinks of the answer. 

“The beach.” Ren answers, but it’s cold. They can go out of the country though, go somewhere warm. He needs to talk to you first, of course. When you finally walk out of your bedroom (after mentally cursing your son for not having any manners when others are around), you go to the living room to see what they needed.

“What did you need, Ren?” You ask, and he looks excitedly at you. Satoru is the one that speaks up for him though,

“We want to go on a trip, can we?” You almost laugh since Satoru sounds like a hopeful child.

“Where are you two going?” You respond. You can’t really say no because Satoru is supposed to have equal authority as Ren’s father.

“Ren wants to go to the beach.” Satoru answers, Ren nodding in agreement. You cross your arms, your brows furrowing.

“It’s too cold to go to the beach, do you not have any other place in mind?” You point out, making Ren pout. The pout doesn’t last long though since Satoru says,

“We can go to another country. Somewhere warm with better beaches.” You’re certainly not convinced since you doubt you’re part of the plan. You’re not letting your baby boy in another country without you– Well, technically he’d be with his father, but you’re still not convinced. Until Satoru says, “Of course, you’re included! I doubt Ren would go anywhere without you.”

“I wouldn’t.” Ren affirms, and you laugh. 

“If you plan everything, then sure. We can go on a trip. You need to give me time off though– Paid time.” You say, and Satoru nods in response. He does pretty much everything you ask of him, and you certainly can’t complain about it. Ren focuses on putting on one of his favorite movies, and you begin to walk to the kitchen, asking, “Are you staying for dinner, Satoru?”

“Yeah.” Satoru answers. He’d definitely rather eat here with his son and you than dine alone at home. He helps Ren put the movie on, and they both begin to watch the movie. He’s watched this movie around five times the past week, and to be honest, Satoru is sick of it. But he’ll watch it because Ren loves it. 

He’s grateful when you call his name, and he has to tell Ren that you need him, so he can’t stay to watch the movie. Satoru walks to the kitchen, and he finds you trying to reach something that’s far too high for you. Satoru’s eyes land on the white bowl and he reaches for it before handing it to you. You mutter a thank you, and you expect him to go back to Ren, but he doesn’t. You then tell him, “That’s all I need from you, you can go.”

“Do you need help with anything else? You know I love Ren but… I’m sick of that movie.” Satoru answers, earning a chuckle from you. You think about what he can do for a moment, and he patiently waits for you to answer.

“You can make the salad, and then set the table.” You respond, and you think you’ll regret it for a moment. Satoru has had everything done for him, he probably doesn’t know how to cut a cucumber; but then you remember that he lived alone for some time, he had to cook for himself for a while. Satoru immediately gets to work, opening the fridge to get all the vegetables that he needs. He looks around the cabinets and drawers for the cutting board and knife, and he quietly begins to cut the vegetables.

“Have you talked to Shoko?” Satoru asks, washing the lettuce throughout. Pretty much everything is wrong between the two of you, but you can’t just stand in awkward silence every single day. You have to talk to each other, after all, you doubt you’ll stop seeing each other.

“I haven’t. I’m not going to for a while.” You reply. In Satoru’s eyes, she did nothing wrong. He’s glad that Shoko told him, otherwise, he probably wouldn’t be with Ren. But in a sense, he understands why you don’t want to talk to her. “Tell her to stop calling my phone because I’m not going to answer. I’ll call her when I’m ready.”

“I’m not really talking to her either.” He responds.

“Is it because she has the hots for your wife?” You blurt out, and you bite your tongue the moment the words leave your lips. Satoru’s brows raise, definitely surprised by your words. You can’t be serious, can you? Before he can ask more questions about it, you change the topic, “Speaking of… When are you going to tell Sayo about Ren? She’s your wife, she has to find out eventually.”

“Maybe after our trip… I’m not sure how to tell her.” Satoru shares, and you understand that it’s a tough situation. He has to figure out a way to tell his wife of almost five years that he had a kid that’s almost five– And he never cheated, he just found out about him. This was all before their marriage. It’s definitely hard. Satoru clears his throat, mustering up the courage to ask about Suguru, someone else that he has been ignoring. “So… How are you and Suguru? Are you still seeing each other?”

“We’ve been busy, but we’re still… Talking.” You answer. You won’t lie and say that you don’t feel nauseous every time you talk to him, your heart nearly beating out of your chest for the simple fact that you lied to him. He has to find out that you lied eventually. “Have you talked to him?”

“I’m not talking to him. I’ve been ignoring him. I’ve been ignoring everyone.” Satoru responds. He puts the knife down, watching you as you begin to cook. He bites down his lip, holding back on saying a couple of things that are on his mind. About this situation, about you and Suguru, maybe an apology. Satoru has been a complete mess with so many things going in his mind, but not voicing any of them. He does have to ask one question though, “Is Ren the reason why you quit school?”

“Yeah…” You feel embarrassed to say it. “I couldn’t afford both. It was either my baby or school, and that was an easy choice.”

“Sorry…” He mutters, and it’s barely audible but you hear it. You don’t really pay attention to it, in the end it was your decision. Given the option, you’d do it all over again. 

[blackbirdsblackberries]

Okay hear me out,

Yandere batfam but reader doesn’t trust regular healthcare professionals. (Other people-they’ve been told to believe the outside world is evil and scary. The batfam didn’t intend for this but it works)

Like say reader gets the flu, No way in heck is any stranger coming into the mansion.

Would each member of the batfam study a different specialty? Like cass or Steph studied gynecology, Tim studied nutrition (lol) dick studied dentistry maybe? (He makes people smile)

Or would that all be on Bruce?

Or would they just drug reader so that someone can come in and take care of them.

Honestly rn I have a nasty toothache and I wonder how far the batfam would go/what they would do if reader had a toothache. (I’m kinda imagining the fam giving reader a drugged drink so that they can take them to a dentist and their excuse is “they’re extremely anxious and terrified so we gave them some Xanax” but I’m also imagining them taking them down to the batcave where the medical bay/area of the cave is equipped with practically everything)

I love this! I definitely think most of them would have a basic understanding of all of the medical parts of life!

You're cheeks are red and you're sickeningly pale. Bruce can't help but lean over your bed and watch as you struggle to sleep. You had adamantly refused having a doctor over to check on you, going as far as to try and lock yourself in your bathroom.

He and the others have done their best to help you but you're so stubborn that you fight back every time. He's almost impressed, his darling child is almost as stubborn as he can be! It must mean that you both have things in common!

He feels so so bad that he and the others had to sedate you but he had no choice! You weren't letting them help :(

But how could you when this is how they react?

This is what you needed, they know what's best. While passed out they had a health professional look over you - obviously under the keen eye of Tim and Damian so they wouldn't get any ideas.

You're so so sickly, what would you do without them?

Dick was in despair upon finding out his little sibling was sick and he couldn't cuddle up to them without risking overheating them.

Jason was annoyed, how could you have gotten sick?! You don't leave the manor!

Tim was curious, it'd be fun trying to nurse you back to health, maybe he could make you trust and depend on him more.

Damian feels guilty, he was sick and didn't tell anyone while still cuddling up to you. He won't admit he felt guilty or that he gave you the sickness but he'll stay by your side the entire time!

Cass and Steph both try to put their studied fields to work to make you get better fast (they can't do much, it's just a cold).

Duke watches the mayhem unfold and simply sits by you and calmly talks to you, whispering sweet nothings and making sure you aren't overwhelmed.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Doggitude

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x teacher!fem!reader (+ Kojo!)

Summary: After Tim takes his bad day out on you, you leave. Kojo misses you and does everything he can to see you again.

Warnings: angst, argument, Tim insults/belittles reader and her job, fluffy ending! KOJO!!

Word Count: 2.8k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Tim loves you, and loves his job, but sometimes those sides of him are at odds. You are happy, bubbly, a ray of sunshine in a dark world, whereas his job shows him only the dark. Each side of Tim impacts the others; a good day with you leads into a good day at work, and a bad day at work is occasionally taken out on you.

Tim knows he isn’t a great boyfriend, and he can be abrasive and use you as an emotional outlet when things aren’t going well. He tries, he really does, but some bad days make being a good person seem impossible.

This week, Tim has worked several shifts back-to-back and is in a terrible mood when his shift finally ends. He’s ready to get home, but he just wants to enjoy some quiet and go to sleep, so he decides not to call you. Even as he sees your picture on his phone screen, he finds your smile a bit too bright. You’re different than him, and Tim usually loves that, but at the end of three consecutive bad days, Tim wants to stew in his anger rather than see something bright, like looking into the sun after extended time in a cave.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’ve been spending time at Tim’s house while he’s been at work. Every minute with Kojo in the otherwise empty house has made you miss Tim even more. Your kindergarten class has been rowdy all week, but you refuse to let them dampen your mood. Excited at the idea of Tim finally coming home tonight, you sit with Kojo and wait, reviewing lesson plans and report cards in your spare time.

✯✯✯✯✯

Kojo looks up from your lap when the front door opens, and you smile brightly when Tim enters. He doesn’t notice you as he drops his bag and sighs.

“Hey,” you greet. “We missed you this week.”

Tim clenches his jaw as he turns to face you. “Have you been here every night this week?”

Nodding, you explain, “I wanted to see you, but I also needed to take care of Kojo.” 

He remains silent, his eyes focused on something behind you.

“Are you okay? I know it’s been a long week, but-“

“You don’t know,” Tim says, cutting you off. “You will never understand what a long week really is.”

“Tim, I-“

“No,” Tim snaps, stepping back as he shrugs sarcastically. “You do not understand what it is like for me. Your job is nothing; your long week is because a kid wets his pants, mine is because one of my own gets shot or I lose a suspect, and someone gets hurt because of it. In the grand scheme of things, your job doesn’t matter because people still become criminals and ruin lives like mine!”

Tim’s chest is heaving with anger, every little thing he had to deal with this week weighing on him while he takes it out on you. You bite down on your bottom lip as he continues hurting you, attacking you and the thing you love to make himself feel better.

“You’re angry and tired,” you begin, your smile long gone. “So, I’m going to go-“

“Don’t talk to me like I am one of students. You can barely control them, so don’t try to placate me. I have dealt with criminals who do more work than you.”

A tear rolls over your cheek, and you wipe it away harshly.

“Then go yell at them, since that seems to be what you do to the people you claim to care about,” you reply, grabbing your things.

“Don’t leave.” Tim rolls his eyes as he says it, like you’re overreacting.

“I didn’t want to, but you clearly do. I hope you feel better in the morning, Tim.”

The door slams behind you, and Tim runs his hand over his hair, pinching the tight muscle at the back of his neck. Kojo jumps from the chair where he was sitting beside you, rushing to the closed door and whimpering. He looks back at Tim, whining as he raises his paw toward the door. 

“I messed up, didn’t I, Kojo?” Tim asks.

Kojo whines again, a clear ‘yes.’ Kojo has loved you since the moment he met you, and Tim even refers to you as 'Kojo’s mom.' Tim pulls his phone from his pocket, dialing your number. He gets no answer, and Tim can’t blame you, but he also knows better than to chase you. He texts you and puts his phone away, calling Kojo to follow him to bed. Kojo stays at the door, lying down and watching the doorknob. 

“Sorry, buddy,” Tim says, leaving his bedroom door open in case Kojo forgives him in the night.

✯✯✯✯✯

Once you are safely in your apartment, you let yourself cry, Tim’s words on a loop in your mind. Your phone rings again, and you see Tim’s name with yet another message. Turning the ringer off, you push your phone away from you and curl up in the middle of your bed, crying rather than sleeping.

Tim has been emotional coming home from work before, saying something you didn’t deserve. He’s never taken it this far or made it about you personally before tonight. His comments about your job had to have come from somewhere, maybe something he’s been hiding. You don’t believe him; you know what you do is important, but Tim hurt you, and you’re not sure it will ever stop hurting.

When the sun appears on the horizon, you call in sick from work, prepared for a long weekend alone. Part of you wants to know if Tim is feeling better today, but then you remember what he did, giving you a bad day in his attempt to minimize his own.

“I miss Kojo,” you whisper, crying again as you remember that it’s not only Tim you’re losing.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Kojo?” Tim calls, growing more worried with each empty room.

Behind the kitchen island, Kojo is sitting and shaking with his head down. Tim kneels before him and lays a gentle hand on his back. Kojo begins whining, a different sound than his reaction to you leaving last night.

“What’s the matter, Kojo?” Tim whispers.

Kojo shakes harder, sliding his front paws out so he’s lying flat on the floor. Tim searches for a nearby vet hospital before picking Kojo up and carrying him outside. Once Kojo is in his truck, Tim drives to the vet hospital. Kojo’s whining turns to short barks as he carries him inside. The vet takes one look at Kojo shaking and leads Tim into an examination room. After checking Kojo's vitals quickly, the vet sets her equipment down and chuckles.

“Mr.?” she begins.

“Bradford. And that’s Kojo.”

“Mr. Bradford, Kojo is faking. There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“He’s- he’s fine?”

“Yes, he is. Dogs sometimes do this when they want attention or after something changes, in an attempt to get it back. Has something like that happened recently?”

Tim looks at Kojo and nods. 

“Someone will be in shortly with the paperwork. I’m glad Kojo is healthy. Have a nice day, Bradfords.”

As the door closes, Tim asks, “Wasn’t that a bit dramatic? Did you think I’d call her, and she’d answer for you?”

Kojo looks up and grunts at Tim. Someone knocks before handing Tim the bill and telling him he’s free to go. Tim looks down at the bill and releases a deep exhale. He should be upset with Kojo, but he probably deserves a lot worse for what he did to you.

“She really won’t come back now, Kojo. You spent all my money,” Tim mutters.

Kojo grunts again as Tim clips a leash to his collar. He refuses to look at Tim, upset that he was taken to the vet rather than your side.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim hasn’t texted in a few hours. He either realized you weren’t going to answer or decided he didn’t want to talk. You haven’t read the messages or played the voicemails, too hurt to communicate with Tim in any way. Reading his words or hearing his voice will make you cry harder, and you’re already nearly cried out.

Looking at a framed picture of Kojo, you wish things had been different, wondering if one little choice would have made things end differently. You didn’t sleep last night, and you’re sure you won’t sleep again tonight, too busy crying and mourning the loss of the most important boys in your life. As the sun sets, you begin sobbing, holding the picture of Kojo to your chest as you hear Tim’s angry words in your mind again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Kojo won’t come near Tim, content to sit by the door. When Tim moves, Kojo grunts, turning away. The doorbell rings, and Kojo steps back, watching Tim as he answers it. Signing for a package, Tim ignores Kojo’s growling.

“I can’t make her forgive me, pal,” Tim tells Kojo after he closes the door.

Kojo trots away, turning into the guest room to sleep. Tim sits on the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose as he realizes he has two problems that must be solved. He hurt you, and worse, he hurt you intentionally, and now he has a dog that misses you and blames him. Tim understands why you are ignoring him and why Kojo is upset, too. Reaching for his phone, he texts you again, but the dozens of unanswered texts above the newest make him refrain from calling you.

✯✯✯✯✯

After managing to get an hour and a half of sleep, you hope the third night without Tim will be easier. When you hear a dog barking outside your window and a man talking kindly to the dog as if it will respond, you realize that tonight will likely be the worst. Tim and Kojo do that, have their own language, and you were part of their world for a brief, brilliant moment. And then it was snatched away from you, breaking your heart and hurting your mind in the process.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You have to go outside eventually, Kojo,” Tim says with his arms crossed over his chest and Kojo’s leash hanging from his hand.

Kojo grunts, looks toward the door, and slowly approaches Tim. On the walk, Kojo pulls harder than usual, not listening to Tim when he gives him commands.

“When is this dog-gitude going to pass, Kojo?” Tim asks. “Because there’s nothing we can do.”

Tim doesn’t realize how close he is to your apartment when he enters the dog park. Kojo runs back and forth across the park a few times, glad to stretch his legs after avoiding Tim in the house for a few days. When he stops suddenly, looking at Tim as his back legs drop, preparing to run, Tim knows he can’t stop him.

“Kojo, no!” Tim yells.

Kojo, of course, doesn’t listen. He runs past Tim, out of the dog park, and down the sidewalk as fast as possible. Tim follows behind, pushing himself past his limit to catch Kojo. When he sees the lights of a familiar apartment complex, he realizes that Kojo is finding you.

“Kojo!” Tim calls again, slowing as he begins up the stairs.

✯✯✯✯✯

A dog barks at your door, and for a moment, you think you are imagining Kojo’s presence. When claws scratch against the wood, you open the door slowly. Kojo pushes past you, circling your legs happily. You sink to the floor, wrapping your arms around Kojo. Unaware that you are still crying, you’re surprised when Kojo begins licking your chin, attempting to dry your tears.

Footsteps echo in the stairwell, and when Tim appears in your doorway, panting and pressing one hand to the doorjamb to stay upright, you turn toward him instinctually. Kojo grunts, moving in front of you, blocking Tim.

Tim sees your tears and bloodshot eyes and can’t stop himself from stepping inside. He closes the door and squats, keeping his eyes on you as he lowers to look in your eyes over Kojo’s head.

“Did you read my messages?” he asks softly.

You shake your head, and he nods before leaning back as he sits against the door.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Shaking your head again, you pull Kojo back into your arms and cling to him.

“I’m going to tell you want my messages said, but if you want me to stop I will,” Tim begins. “I never should have said those things about your job, because they were wrong. Teaching is important, and the kind of teaching you do is far more important than what I do. You give kids a chance to be the best they can be, and I have to find the bad people and make them pay for it. You already know that I had a long week, a bad one, too, and I took that out on you. I can’t say much more than I am sorry; I’m so sorry that I talked to you like that. You are the only good part of a life surrounded by grief. I- I wouldn’t forgive me.”

“Why?” you ask against Kojo. “Why did you say those things?”

“You- you’re bright, sunny, happy… all the time.”

“I thought you liked that about me.”

“I love that about you. But, after the week I had, it was just hard to turn away from the hard parts of the job and see pure light.”

“So, you don’t want to come back to-“

“Don’t finish that. This has nothing to do with you. This was all me, trying to deal with a bad week and making it far worse. Hurting you in the process was not my intention, and I can never make up for that.”

You hug Kojo tightly, thinking about what Tim said. Having two completely different life elements like that can’t be easy. If it’s not about him not wanting to come home to you, you’re not sure how to avoid the same thing in the future.

“I’m sorry,” Tim repeats. “And, if you give me a second chance, I will show you that I can separate the two. Bringing a bad day home to you, hurting you, is not an option and I never should have lost sight of that… I’ve missed you.”

“I missed Kojo.”

“Yeah, Kojo missed you too,” Tim replies with a dramatic raise of his brows. “Cost me nearly $1,000 trying to see you again.”

“How?” you ask, looking up at Tim again.

He softens when your eyes meet his. “He pretended to be sick trying to get you to come back, but I just took him to the vet. Emergency visits are expensive, even if there is no reason for it.”

“Did- did you follow him here?”

“Yeah. He ran from the dog park and came straight here.”

“Would you have come here if he hadn’t led you, or would you have just moved on after I stopped answering the phone?”

Tim slides closer until Kojo is the only thing separating him from you. “I would have come. I would have gotten on my knees and begged to apologize.”

“Just to apologize?”

“I can’t force you to forgive me or give me another chance, just tell you that I’m sorry and I miss you like crazy.”

“Well, I missed you like Kojo missed me,” you say quietly.

“That much?”

“I haven’t slept in three nights, so, yeah,” you answer with a chuckle.

Tim raises his hand to your face, placing his fingers under your jaw as his thumb moves gently across your cheek.

“I forgive you,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “Just promise to talk to me, rather than take it out at me next time you have a bad day?”

“I promise,” Tim replies. “Kojo, move.”

Kojo grunts, moving closer to you.

“Kojo,” you say, smiling when he moves to your side, watching you closely for any sign of hurt.

“He likes you more than me. His mom left and nothing could make it better.”

“Has he been eating? Because I have some of his food here-“

Tim cuts you off, kissing you softly as his hand moves to the back of your neck. He moves slowly, communicating his love and his apology in his movements.

“Can we get off the floor?” you ask.

“Only if Kojo and I can stay for a while.”

“You can stay forever.”

Tim pulls you into his lap, smiling when you grab his shoulders in surprise. He kisses your jaw as he stands, pulling you up and moving to your couch.

“I’m sorry you had a bad week,” you say, patting for Kojo to join you.

“Why are you like this?” Tim replies.

“Because I’m sunny, and bright, and all things happy.”

“Lucky me,” Tim hums.

[gildedkrone]

As long as you're next to me, just the two of us

request from somebody asking for military reader with internalised homophobia. john price x male reader

"You really ought to not blow your cigar smoke onto me, you know?"

The warm embers of spent tobacco, an all too familiar sight in the dark, starry night, and he's smiling, albeit faintly. He takes an audible suck of air, and the embers glow brighter and fade into a dull orange.

"Thought yer used to it by now," Price blows the hints of something scorched gently across your nose and you fan the smoke away with a flick of your hand.

"I don't smoke, John." He blinks and nods to take another chuff of the cigar as you look away then back at him.

He says he knows. Infernally glorious bastard of a captain and he's content with the warm tranquility settled into the space and the cigar is the last thing the mind's got time for. On the rooftop, the stars are ever distant in the cosmos’s grasp and he moves to lay with his back to the railing, almost close enough to touch. But he doesn't come any closer than that and a healthy distance remains between you and him.

"How many years has it been?"

Five. Five years since he appeared in his lieutenant uniform with SAS patches sewn neatly onto the vest and now? Now, he's a captain of a famed task force and chasing a terrorist halfway across the world with a short break in between his ever-growing catalogue of missions. The rank suits him well, suits him and his beard nicely as he grew into the man standing before you.

All's well. If all's well, then why does it feel as if there's a divide between you and him?

"You know," his head angles towards you when the silence fills with murmurs, "I never did congratulate you on your promotion, John."

"Never too late to do so, sweetheart."

"You call everyone that? Bet your lieutenant wouldn't take it well. That mask—"

"Not him." The words are scented with woodsy, "Nobody else gets to be a sweetheart." And he's saying it so sincerely, it’s impossible to doubt the truth and intensity in his words.

"Exceptions? You're not being fair, captain."

He scoffs and you take the time to admire his visage with a subtle lean towards him. The left eyebrow hitches a little, then it falls back to its place and he's smiling warmly as the cigar burns away in crumbling ashes falling to the wind under the pale moonlight.

"How's your love life? Still seeing Sandy?" The sudden change of topic and you cock your head slightly and he grimaces slightly to have felt some sense of chagrin at poking the sore wound in your heart.

"We broke up a month ago." He lowers the cigar, "She just, didn't want to be in a relationship with a military man, you know? All the absences made her mad and she just ... left."

"On a Thursday afternoon."

He listens so attentively; he's reminiscent of the cadets under your care when they first arrive at sergeant bootcamp. A little awestruck and very much eager to learn and get going and you lean in closer for a look at the new-ish scar marring the area above his eyebrows.

"You've gone and hurt yourself again, eh?"

Fingers brush across the region of his face gently as his face is pliant in your hands and tilts with each nudge to facilitate your examination of his new battle scar. Eventually, you release his face and he runs a hand through his scar absentmindedly.

"You datin' again?"

"No such luck. Tinder's trash these days. All you'll ever find are people down to fuck and run. 's not much better on the other dating platforms too."

"Just women?" The parting of your lips and nothing comes out; the words don't come as they should.

"Just women. I-I ... I’ve never considered other men, John."

"Why not?"

It's a moment of confusion—you entertain his queries about manhood and love. What do you say to that? It's a minefield of emotions and memories tangled with barbs and spikes laden with the flags of youth and curiosity shaped into a spitball refusing to be verbalized.

"I don't think another man could ever love me. And ..." The forgotten cigar in his hands dull and the soft cerulean eyes are gently imploring you to continue, "I ... well, it's wrong and I ... don't know if I can do it."

He nods empathetically and you lean back into the railing to find fleeting interest in the moon. How did the conversation morph into this weird mess of clunky and awkward conversations?

"Well, I have a problem when it comes to dating." Oh? Go on, and he does go on.

"I met a man, and I don't know if he fancies me the way I fancy him."

"Really? I'm glad for you, John. What is he like?"

It's cute how his brows furrow slightly when he's in deep concentration and he says—valiant and resplendent. The vigor of the sun, the ferocity of the lion, and the tenacity of the stars.

"Valiant? Resplendent? You must really like him to hold him at such a regard."

"It's not an exaggeration, lieutenant."

Who had managed to capture John's heart to such a degree? You lose interest in the moon to lay the brunt of your attention on him. His eyes dart away into inkiness night then back at you and its kept steady as a sniper's hands in a high-tension scenario.

"Have you tried telling him? About how you feel?"

"You have tips? ‘M not sure quite how to break it to him."

He seems mildly amused by the chuckle and you regale him with strategies and tactics to win over the mystery man Price loves so much. Everything you’ve learnt from the trashy romance novels stashed in your drawers never to be seen any other service personnel. Even if they would never find their place with another man.

"So, a hand grasp and a head tilt, lots of eye contact, and a heartfelt confession? It’s certainly shorter than the list on the web.”

“Mmhm, it’s that simple.”

He asks if you would entertain his request to rehearse it. You humor him and step away from the railing to face him head on. He clears his throat and warmth envelops your hand in a hand shaped like John’s. His body posture is open and inviting, and he’s putting in the effort to treat it seriously.

His hands clasped with yours is so damn warm and fiercely domestic, and his fingers are gentle when they tilt your head upwards slightly. Something in your heart twists slightly at the endearment in his eyes; you’ve been privy to aggression, bloodlust, and anger in them. But not this. Blood hammers in your ears and you keep your face schooled in blasé calm even if his grasp is uncharacteristically soft and yet, harbored the love he had in his being.

“I love you, sweetheart.” The words are painful to hear on ears not meant for them and instincts are warring in your head in tumult.

You cough gently to realign his focus with the moment.

“Yeah, so, that is how you do it, John.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“That’s what you would say that to the man you love so much.”

His throat swallows harshly and his hand remains on your chin. He eyes search for something, and he says it again.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

What is he doing? He cuts you off before you can start.

“I’m saying it to the man I love.”

Whiplash. Whiplash at the revelation as your lips part to reveal hollow words and empty reconciliation of the revelation and your thoughts. No. This—

“I mean it. Whole heartedly. Fully.”

“John … I—I can’t love you, not—”

“I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

“Why? Why the fuck would you choose me? Of all the men and women in the world and you’ve gone and loved the one person who can’t give you anything! John, why?”

His hands are still clasped around yours and laced around your runaway heart. Don’t leave.

“Because it’s what the heart wants, love.” He tugs you in closer and in a moment of stupor, you feel the warmth emanating from him against the chilly night.

“It’s wrong—” And by god, it’s so fucking hard to tell him why it’s wrong when he’s looking at you like that. All worried and desperate to alleviate whatever you were feeling.

“I don’t want to be the fool who dies with a million regrets. And this is fixing it.”

He’s so close but he’s waiting for permission to breach the last barrier of that defensive wall built around the wastelands of the heart. He wipes away the tears which had formed, and soft lips are all you can feel when he closes the gap. Plush, soft lips press against yours and his embrace is all encompassing even as your eyes are shut to close out the world. He comes into view when warmth of his lips disappears and shakes rattle your body in his arms.

“I’ll be here for as long as you want me, sweetheart.”

He means it.

“’m not leaving, unless you tell me to.”

“John, I … I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure it out together. Me and you, we will find our way as a unit. Together, we’ll do it together.”

He is deadly serious again. “If you tell me to leave, I’ll leave.”

“No … I—I don’t want you to leave. I’m so fucking scared, John.”

“I’m here.” He is here. His hands on your back are proof of his existence in a world bending into a pinpoint of focus that is only John and his features and his exhales on your cheeks. What were you supposed to say? Or do?

There’s no need to do anything.

And maybe, just maybe, that is enough of a promise for you that everything is going to be ok—if it's John, and this was fine, more than fine. Your nod is what John needed to bring your foreheads together.

“Thanks fer trusting me, love.”

The hints of tobacco smoke don’t smell as acrid as they did a while ago and the night isn’t so cold anymore. Not when he wears his heart on his sleeves and draped over you in the moonlight.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: baby girls, he we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You rinse out the bowl you used for your oatmeal. It’s only as the back door opens that you notice the roar of the mower’s stopped. You put the porcelain in the dishwasher and shut it as you hear footsteps down the hall. It’s almost ten o’clock. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky greets your back as he enters. “I just put fresh water in the hot tub. Might go for a soak myself, try to loosen up these muscles.” 

You face him, “hot tub?” 

“Oh, yeah. Guess that’s new too.” He chuckles. “Another one of my projects.” 

“Right,” you nod. A sudden buzz makes your jump. 

You look around and scurry across the kitchen to grab your phone. It’s a message from your mom. But why would she text you? Can’t she just come downstairs? 

‘Is Bucky still there?’  

You stare at the message and frown. Huh? 

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asks. Your eyes flick up. 

“Um, yeah, erm, it’s my mom...” you shake your head. 

“Right, how’s work going for her?” He plants a hand on the counter and leans. 

“Work? It’s her day off,” you blink. 

“Ah, yeah, she said she didn’t want to wake you up when she left. She got called in. Emergency.” He explains. 

You clutch the phone as you stare at him dumbly. Why didn’t he mention that earlier? Well, it’s not on him, you could have checked. But if she’s gone, why is he still here? 

“Don’t spoil the surprise,” he says, “about the lawn.” 

“I won’t,” you look down and text her back. 

“So how about it? You up for a soak?” He asks again. 

“Um, I’ll think about it. Just gonna chat with my mom,” you waggle your phone at him and meander to the door. 

‘Great. You two can get to know each other.’  

Her answer is disappointing. You thought she’d be surprised, maybe confused. It’s all perfectly normal to them. You’re still adjusting. If she’d told you before you got there, it wouldn’t feel so strange. 

At the same time, you don’t want to let her down. You can’t just ignore her message. You have to try but you feel like you haven’t even had time to settle in. And he’s not the only thing that’s different. Your room doesn’t even feel like yours. 

You stand at the bottom of the stairs. You key in a final reply. ‘Ok’. That’s it. A tepid agreement. 

“Hey,” Bucky surprises you again. “Invitation stands,” he wipes his forehead, his bicep bulging as he does, the muscles of his chest straining. “I’m just going to get in my trunks.” 

“Uh, I... I’ll think about it,” you make yourself take a step up and climb steadily, refusing to look back. 

You stare at the phone. You don’t want to be rude. You’re sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why your mother didn’t mention him. You might do the same in her shoes. After so long being single, she was probably just letting it pan out. 

Still, she could have said something when you were on the train. 

Whatever. It’s not your place to complain. You’re still living under her roof, rent-free, after years of tuition on her dime and a lifetime of dependency. You can pretend like this is all okay. 

You go into your room and shut the door behind you. You wouldn’t have a swim suit in the dresser, you didn’t bother to pack it for college. Wherever your other clothes are, it should be there. You just don’t know where that is. 

A tank top and shorts should do the trick. You prefer that to an actual swimsuit. It won’t feel so revealing.  

You take out a hot pink spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of black shorts. You switch out your clothes, catching your foot in the shorts and tripping slightly. You stand up, shirtless, leaning on the vanity as you get your balance.  

You glimpse your reflection and shy away. You tie the string of the shorts and reach for the tank top. You pull it over your head and check yourself in the mirror. It will do. You hope. 

As you come out of the room, another door opens. You peer down the hall as Bucky emerges from your mother’s room. You gulp and flick your eyes away from him. He wears a pair of light blue shorts, so short you might mistake them for briefs. His thick thighs and torso flex with his movement as he approaches, a towel over his shoulder. 

“You changed your mind?” He asks as he comes closer. 

“Erm, well, I... I’ll give it a try. I’ve never really been in a hot tub, so...” You poke your fingertips together nervously. You don’t want to tell him your mother told you to be social. 

“Great, kinda feel like a loser sitting in there by myself. It’s really too bad your mom had to go in.” He sighs. 

Yeah, it is. You wonder why he didn’t mention it sooner. Or why he’s hanging around. You guess you don’t really know how things work around here anymore. 

“Don’t forget a towel,” he winks as he pats the one on his shoulder. “I’ll go get the cover off and you can come hop on in.” 

He brushes by you, his knuckle glancing off you as he does. You shuffle down to the linen closet and take out a towel. You don’t follow him right away. 

Your stomach is a flurry of nerves. It’s just the oatmeal. It always sits like a lump. You didn’t think about that, you were just hungry. 

You go downstairs and drag your feet to the back door. You come out onto the deck and peer around. The tub sits in the deck, installed where the table used to be. It steams as Bucky steps into it. He sighs and groans, muscles clenching up his back and sides. He must work out a lot. 

You look down at yourself. Self-consciousness creeps over you. It’s been a while since you thought so much about it. You tried not to focus much on your body; as long as you liked what you’re wearing, you don’t worry about what’s underneath. You don’t have the most extravagant taste but you have a few cute pieces. 

He lowers himself into the water and lets out another drone. He shifts around to face you but doesn’t seem to notice you as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. He takes a deep breath so his chest puffs out. 

You set your towel next to his on the small table near the edge. You near and stand at the lip of the tub. Can you just sneak away? 

“Hey,” his voice rolls over the bubbling water, “it’s not bad. Come on. It feels great. It’ll loosen you right up.” 

You nod and bite your lip. You get down on your butt before you ease yourself down onto the seat of the tub. The water steams and spits just beneath your shoulders. It is nice though it does raise a thick sheen across your forehead. 

“Mmm, trust me, when you’re mine age, you’ll need one of these,” he smirks. “So,” he stretches his arms around the frame of the tub, “what’s the plan, doll?’ 

“The plan?” You flap your lashes. 

“For the summer? Beach days with the girls? You wanna invite some friends over? You can have the tub to yourself,” he offers. 

“Mm, no, I... I’m looking for work. Uh, probably send out more applications.” You shrug. 

“Looking for a job? Ah, right, no more school, huh? Exciting. You got the whole world in front of you.” 

“Mhm, yeah,” you reach to rub your neck. 

“I’m sure you’ll still have time to hang out with your friends,” he insists. 

“Uh, I don’t... I don’t really have any,” you utter. You look away and stare at the fence. 

“No? Well, all my buddies are too busy for me. I know how you feel.” He says, “you know, we could be friends.” 

“Um, yeah, maybe,” you look at him again as you chew your lip. His eyes snap up from your chest. You look down and try not to show your horror. Your nipples are entirely visible as the pink fabric clings to you. You cross your arms. “You’ll be busy with my mom.” 

“Not all the time,” he says “You know, ever since she got this promotion, she’s been too busy for me.” 

“Ah, erm, I'm sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “I don’t know...” 

“Mm, I know why,” he tilts his head. 

You stare at him in confusion. 

“You know a guy like me shouldn’t be kept waiting around. You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you? You can’t help but feel bad knowing I’m left all on my own. Lonely.” He traces a finger along the edge of the tub as he speaks. 

“I... guess. I don’t... know? I just...” You look away again. You can hardly stand the heat of the water as it boils your blood. 

He snickers and you wince as he shifts around the tub, sliding into the seat next to you. He slips his arm behind you as he does. You shrink down and stare at the deck railing. What is he doing? 

“This is nice, isn’t it? Getting to know each other?” His fingers tickle your shoulder as he crowds you. “You know, seems like we have a lot in common, doesn’t it?” 

“Um, erm,” you squirm in the seat. “I think... maybe... I should...” 

“Relax, it won’t do you any good if you don’t relax,” he girds. “I’m just saying, baby girl, seems like we’re both pretty lonely.” 

He leans back into the hot tub and lets his head fall back. You bend your arm, rubbing your other, and fidget. You want to just go but you’re scared to move. You don’t think you’re really afraid of him, he probably won’t stop you, but you’re just all locked up. 

You sit there, staring through the slats at the green lawn. The water babbles and your ears pulse. He continues to caress your shoulder. 

“Mm, baby girl, come on, just let yourself...” he taps your arm, “lean back, huh?” 

You obey. You lean back into the tub and slide down in the seat, trying to mimic him. Your head hits his arm as you recline. It is nice as the jets shoot up your back. 

“Wait, wait, you gotta get in the right...” he grabs your thigh and drags you towards him. “..place. Make sure you hit all the pressure points.” 

As he moves you, you spasm and cry out in surprise. A jet blows right against your shorts, a stream of water that sends tingles through you. You try to move back but he holds you in place. He squeezes your thigh and kneads. 

“Ah, yeah, baby girl, right there? Doesn’t it feel good?” 

You squeak as the water hits your clit through your thin shorts. You put your hand on his and wiggle. That only makes it more intense. Does he know what’s happening? 

“Please...” you gasp. 

“What did I say? Relax,” he continues to rub his fingertips into your thigh. “You’re all tense, baby girl. Let it go.” 

Your eyes round and you contort, trying to take the pressure off your clit. It doesn’t help. You puff out and grab onto his arm without thinking. He needs to let go. You can feel a throbbing inside of you. It hurts. Please, stop. 

The sensation crests and coils through you. Your muscles clench then release all at once. You squeal in shock and shame as your body twitches. You think you just... orgasmed? 

“Baby girl, what is it?” Bucky leans into you. 

“I...” you heave. “I-- nothing.” 

“Mmm, nothing?” His hand crawls up your leg and over your stomach. He twists and bends his arm, cradling your head and turning you to face him. You shiver as he cups your chest through the wet fabric and runs his thumb over the hard bud beneath. “Cause I think you just came in this nice clean water.” He leans in closer until you feel his breath against your lips, “baby girl, I thought you were going to be good for me?” 

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Full headcanons of MC being forced to attack M6 please 🙏🏽🙏🏽

The Arcana HCs: When MC is forced to attack M6

~ oh boy, anon friend, we're really not holding back today are we XD Hope you enjoy this sequel! ~

CW for non-gory injury descriptions, trauma disassociation, and intense guilt

-- to set the scene --

You don't know if you'll ever be able to forgive yourself.

In the moment, all you could feel was terror. The mage you were fighting rippled away as a haze of fear washed over your senses, and suddenly your worst nightmare was right next to you and readying itself to tear you limb from limb. You don't know how long you screamed and lashed out for. You don't know how many rules of fair fighting you abandoned to stay alive.

All you know is that, eventually, the terror subsides, and now you're looking at the pained face of your beloved as blood slowly trickles down their temple.

Julian

The first thing you feel is the way his arms are pinning you to him, effectively restraining you with a desperate hug

He's quietly talking to you, watching your eyes clear as you return to your senses, whispering "hey. hey, I'm here" over and over again until you're able to stop struggling and meet his gaze

You're almost relieved to see that you only managed to hit his head once, until he shakily loosens his grip and you can feel where your hands have angrily clawed and pummeled at his back

He's already nudging you to get back home, leaning a little heavily on your shoulder and telling you over and over again that it's not your fault, the threat's gone, nothing's hurt that can't be fixed

Refuses to take care of his own wounds until you've let him tend to yours and until you've started to believe that things will get better

It's hard not to let your heart break when he finally takes off his shirt and lets you get a look at his back. You tore it to shreds

Not to mention the cracked ribs that clearly make breathing hurt

He doesn't let you dwell on it, instead passing his doctor's tools back to you and talking you through the process of patching him up. Any apology is interrupted with "ah ah ah, my dear, doctors don't say sorry when they're helping people. It's not your fault."

Beyond the initial fear of losing you to the madness, he's not shaken up by your capacity to hurt him. If anything, once he's healed up, he starts praising your ferocity whenever he can

Asra

They're a little ways away from you when you regain lucidity, one shaking arm extended to hold up the magic barrier you were just struggling against. They look terrified - and heartbroken

As soon as you stop fighting and your legs begin to give out, he's sprinting the several feet over to catch you. There's a stream of apologies and reassurances leaving his mouth as he reaches you

"It's okay - it's okay - I'm so sorry, it's going to be okay - I'm sorry I didn't stop it sooner. Just hold on, my love, it'll all be okay -"

Doesn't want to let go of you. Mostly because they're injured and exhausted too, but also because it's easier not to let you see how badly they're hurt if you're both hiding in each other's necks

Won't let you look at him until he heals you first

When you do, you have a to keep a strong face, or you know they'll cover it up and take care of it themself. You didn't get through the barrier, but it seems your powerful magic attacks did. Effectively

The arm that was holding up the shield has bruises and cuts all over it. There's angry red lines reaching from his elbow across his chest where you apparently sent lightning dancing over it

They let you heal them because they know it'll help you, but they won't talk about such a painful thing openly. They don't want you to feel like you have to apologize. The nightmares think otherwise

When he does talk about it, it was seeing you so scared of him, like he was a threat to you. Like he'd hurt you. It's his greatest fear

Nadia

You open your eyes to find yourself at the other end of her drawn sword, the blade carefully hovering at an angle where only the flat of it will strike you. Her eyes look wide and scared - vulnerable

You can tell she's been moving defensively this whole time because she doesn't take advantage of your sudden pause. Rather, she watches you cautiously as you sink to the ground

She wants to believe it's over, but she's not putting her sword away until she knows for certain that it's done. Prove you're back to her

Can't bring herself to touch you or to let you touch her until you're both finished talking. You need to tell her what happened to make you act like that. She needs you to know what she did and why

She did everything she could not to hurt you. She promises

Doesn't hold it against you at all. She knew from the moment your eyes went hazy that you weren't acting of your own volition, and she feels truly sorry for the frightening thing you must've endured

But that doesn't change how startling it was to be on the receiving end of your fear and aggression. She needs to know you're okay. She needs to know she's okay. She needs to know it'll stay that way

Has a Palace medic tend to your wounds separately, but does eventually let you use healing magic on her once she's comfortable with your touch again (though that might take a few hours at least)

Insists on holding you close that night and the following evenings. She knows she's safe with you and refuses to feel otherwise

Muriel

The more your vision clears, the more your terror changes to horror. He did nothing to stop you. He did nothing to stop you

The blood trickling down his temple meets with several gashes on his jaw and neck, there's jagged gouges across his chest and shoulders, and bruises already blooming across his stomach

And yet he's giving you the gentlest look, reaching out to you slowly the same way you've seen him calm wounded beasts in the forest. You've still done much more damage than a scared rabbit

Doesn't say much, just catches you by the shoulders when you start to fall and carefully cradles your cheek when you start to cry

You don't realize how much trauma he's fighting until you've made it back to the hut and the fine tremble in his hands hasn't left

And it's because he's so busy fighting his own awful memories that he accidentally shuts you out, not saying a word, not hearing a word, turning away after setting you down so you can't see him numbly dab at his wounds and try to get the blood out of his sight

Doesn't start to break until you start to break. Somewhere in his mind is a conviction that he's not allowed to feel bad about this because he's had worse, and your tears are his permission

Healing really begins late that night as he holds you in his lap by the fire, learning to let his own tears fall while you tend to his injuries and lament the fact that Muriel didn't protect the person most precious to you - himself

Portia

When the haze lifts, you're flat on your back, all of Portia's weight on your middle while she pins your hands to the ground above your head. The worst part is that she's openly sobbing

You can feel throbbing aches and pains all over your body where you know she fought back and you've never been so happy to be injured in your life. Sadly, you still did a fair amount of damage

So relieved to see you stop struggling and recognize her that she collapses into hugging you and telling you it's over and it's okay and she loves you so much and she's so glad you're back

Furious at the mage that pulled this kind of trick on you, to the point that she can't even hear you bring it up without immediately venting all her anger at them and all the things they deserve

This accidentally makes it impossible for her to accept any kind of apology from you, because to her you're a victim. (which, you are, but that doesn't change the injuries your hands gave her)

Quick to try to cheer both of you up, dragging you home to her cottage, pulling out her first aid kit, and handing you what you need to patch her up while she gets started on you. It'll be okay

Starts processing it pretty openly the next day, at which point you're finally able to share more of how you felt through the whole thing and make the apologies you want to make (she forgives you)

There's a short period of time where you're both extra careful about consensual touch, but all in all, she bounces back quickly

Lucio

You can see his golden arm up and guarding his head while he readies his human hand to push you away again. His gaze is scared and worried, and yet vacant enough to know he's acting on instinct

Stays frozen as you fall, still mentally struggling to realize it's over, before finally collapsing next to you and reaching out to pull you into a hug. You're back. You're here. He's so glad you're here

Shaking and terrified that everything's going to fall apart after this. He just saw you more scared and angry than he's ever seen you before - as scared and angry as he's seen others often look at him

He knows deep down you were under a spell that made you see something else, but there's a worry present in his brain that this was actually you awakening to your true feelings about him

It doesn't help that he doesn't remember what all he did to fight back. Years of combat experience and battlefields kicked in, and all his thoughts went on hold while his body went on autopilot

And the last time someone he loved fought to kill him - well - it was his mother. That did not end well

He can't bring himself to care about injuries until he knows you won't leave him, until he knows you're going to work through this with him. Until he knows you can still love each other

Once you're reconciled and bandaged up, he's in his element. The amount of tender attention you're showing him is feeding his soul

Still subconsciously keeps his guard up around you, for a while

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hellooo may I ask if you plan to continue the kny cats series?

KNY Kitties | 4

Sooner than the quadruple had liked your friend had returned and was eager to take her cats home

And while the sad mews from the kittens broke your heart it was nice to see the Magenta and Waterbug reclaim their role as guardians

Once again alternating between following you around the house and watching the kittens

While you’d like to say all was back to normal it was not

The blonde Turkish angora with rainbow eyes seemed to be finding himself at your place more often 

With a new friend named Snowflake 

Turns out your friend who owned him did return from her trip 

But she had fallen in love with the idea of traveling and had convinced her boyfriend to do the same

Which meant you were left to take care of both of their cats for the foreseeable future

As disappointing as that was having the new short hair around helped balance everyone out

Keeping the mischievous Angora busy 

Otherwise, life was good 

You were hanging out even longer with your new landlord

And cracking down on the only cat that seems to be escaping from your home:

“Okay, my babies! I’ll see you all in a bit I just have to make a quick run! Behave please!”

The sound of your voice suddenly disappearing behind the door caught everybody off guard. As far as they were concerned you were just getting a snack in the kitchen, you’d said so after getting up from cuddling with Magenta. The kittens who had previously tried to fall asleep beside Giyuu immediately snapped awake to go to the door to mew sadly. As though their crying would bring you back they held their little protest for a few minutes, deciding to sit by the door to wait. Giyuu figured he’d check on them before speaking to Muzan who was taking this opportunity to rub himself all over your clothes. 

“Oi Muzan. Aren’t you stretching yourself too thin?//”

Without looking up the former demon king only intensified his scent smothering. 

“How so?//”

“All week you’ve been jumping between being a cat and the ‘landlord’s son.’ Is there no stress on your body to be switching so often?//”

“No, I’m as infallible as I was in the past.//”

Giyuu hides the distasteful flicking of his tail at the prideful assumption. He didn’t really care if Muzan was caught, he was only worried about the rest of them transforming. If that time were to come.

“Ne ne Akaza-chan! Who do you think will be transforming next?”

The striped short hair groaned trying to slink away from Doma as they entered the bedroom. Giyuu’s ears twitched as he made his move to stay on the bed. Better to stay out of their way but still watch the Uppermoons.

“For all you know, it could be me!”

“Please we’d all be in trouble if it’s you.”

“Why wouldn’t you like it if we all go and live with our Master?”

Muzan perked up from the folded clothes to do his best to glare at his subordinates continuing to make biscuits on them. 

“I wouldn’t let you live with me.”

“What?! Master why?!”

“(Y/n) would get the wrong idea about me and I will not have you disrupting my relationship with them.”

“How mean! Would you say the same with Akaza?”

“....No.”

“Whhyyyy?!”

Giyuu refused to say anymore jumping off the bed to the front door. He planned to check on the quiet kittens rather than listen to the useless drivel that was this conversation. He hoped none of it would be considered true. But if this was going off of physical prowess from their past lives that would be a likely scenario rather than Tanjiro. Giyuu was disappointed to see that Tanjiro hadn’t had the same changes he noticed Muzan was having before he first transformed. 

When he finally entered the kitchen and doorway of the house he found the kittens precariously stacked on each other while standing on the counter, attempting to grab some treats. Recently you’ve been trying to teach the kittens some commands and tricks. Unfortunately for you, the kittens were smart enough to wish they could have those treats all the time. 

“Tanjiro, Nezuko, Rui! What are you all doing?//”

A series of ‘uh oh’ and hushed whispers told him all he needed to know. Easily he hopped up on the counter to safely break up the little stack they had going on. They proceeded to whine and complain as he sent a scathing look to all of them–specifically at Tanjiro.

“Tanjiro what is this? I would’ve expected more from you.”

“It’s just that they were both hungry and they were crying–”

“That’s no reason to do this. If you’re so hungry you’ll wait until (Y/n) gets home.”

“But–”

“No, buts. Off the counter.”

But of course, as the kittens begin to slink away preparing for the drop-down, Muzan intervenes. 

“What seems to be the problem.”

Giyuu prepares to speak only to be beaten by Rui. Who proudly tattles as though Giyuu was in the wrong. 

“The old man says we can’t eat even though we’re hungry!”

“--Hey!”

Muzan probably already aware of the true situation coyly sits at the bottom of the counter. 

“Well, that’s not right then.” 

With a smooth snapping of bones, the human form of Muzan stood tall and more than able to reach for the treats. The kittens cheered letting out happy mews as he opened the bag and began leaving some food out. Giyuu groaned in the only way a cat can. 

It is then his dark blues spot the small device above the refrigerator.

“Mu—!//”

Before he could get it out the door swung open. It is then that Muzan turns completely naked to look horrified at the main doorway where you had your phone’s light flashing with a picture and your jaw hanging open. 

“OH MY G–”

[ghostytoad]

* Fun n' Games *

ROTTMNT Boys x GN! Leo-esque reader who enjoys drama, making jokes, and being overall awesome

Summary: The Hamato brothers unexpectedly fall for the smug, but genuine, fun-loving reader despite their egocentric habits Headcanons for: Donnie

GN! Reader; Romantic; Fluff || Words: 1.6k

Raph | Leo | Mikey | Bonus!!

Donnie:

his first thoughts upon meeting y/n is that literally nothing could be worse. he could be boiling alive in one of meatsweat's fancy culinary stews and be less bothered by that than having to endure not one, but TWO LEOS

there goes the fleeting days of being able to complete his work in peace and quiet; o call back yesterday, bid time return

really tho, all his eye rolling and indifference is just an act that he refuses to let up on (he has a REPUTATION to uphold after all!!)

it doesn't take much time for donnie to warm up to y/n though; he's more or less used to his twin's antics and smug behavior and with y/n being almost exactly the same, it's like they've known each other their whole lives

he chalks it up to being comfortable with the familiar, but his brothers can definitely see it for what it is: a crush

he enjoys the competitive tension between y/n and him, it keeps him on his toes and gives him a boost when he feels out of it and needs the motivation

doesn't much care for the whole ego thing, but it doesn't bother him as bad as leo's does; at least y/n has good reason to be as cocky as they are. they're funny, they're charming, they're cool, they're incredibly perceptive

in fact, he's secretly made a list of all the good qualities y/n has and all the things he likes about them… it's like a whole 10 spreadsheets worth of data

to be fair, he does keep a similar list for his brothers and april, so it's not like he's stalking y/n or anything; it's just his way of "bonding" with his loved ones

but y/n's list is a lot longer than anyone else's; there's just so much to like about them. it only makes sense that their list of good traits happens to match up pretty well with his list of "things to look for in a potential mate" (a secret list that he will take to his grave)

whenever they go on missions, he makes sure to fit y/n in all his latest gear he's made them for their protection; they might talk big game, but donnie still has to take precautions!

he may or may not have taken y/n on a few purple dragon-related missions - AKA "let's go put whipped cream in all of their hard drives and cover their hideout in tinfoil wrapping just to fuck with them"; turns out that the police do not find it funny

"let me just say for the record that nothing's illegal unless it can be proven beyond reasonable doubt. and you can't prove that y/n and i were there so…"

y/n ain't no snitch, so don can trust them to keep their mouth shut if anyone ever gets suspicious of their misdeeds; this also makes them his go-to for some of the more emotionally heavier things that he can't talk to his brothers about

yeah, donnie's not great with emotions, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel them - he genuinely finds y/n to be a comforting presence, especially considering their amazing emotional perception and how well they can read him

he finds it much easier to work when y/n's hanging around the lab with him; they don't have to interact much, all it takes is a visit from y/n and he's hit with a burst of motivation

gets more work done with y/n around than he usually does and takes advantage of this productivity by making y/n stay with him for literal hours even if they don't actively take part in his work

he's even made them a little corner with all of their favorite things in the lab so they can keep busy while he works; they might be good for motivation and all, but he knows better than to leave y/n alone with one of his inventions considering their… impulsive behavior (rip stun-bo feature, we hardly knew ya)

"w-what, leaving? you can't leave yet! i've only just started on this upgraded micro-transmitter for the tank and i need your help! what do you mean you just sit there for hours doing nothing? that's entirely false, you are helping me out immensely! now sit right there and don't touch anything until i tell you to-"

their easy-going nature really complements his more rigid and particular personality; together, they are an unstoppable and wildly chaotic duo

he might be the funniest turtle of the group, but y/n has him in tears with their lame little jokes and one-liners; he mostly only laughs at the roasts and teases directed at his brothers though

overall, his brothers have an ongoing bet over how long it'll be before donnie finally realizes he has a MAJOR crush on y/n; leo has his bets on "not in my lifetime", april predicts it'll be sometime after casey jr's time, mikey's a little more generous and says "maybe in the next decade or two", and raph is just fed up with it and wants it over with NOW

The buzzing and whirring of various tools occupied the otherwise silently uneventful lab as Donatello worked away on his latest project, completely absorbed in his work. Tucked away in the corner, sitting snug in the soft embrace of a plush beanbag, Y/N busied themselves with another round of Smash Bros on their purple (totally not Genius Built branded) Switch. Most days in the lab were spent in comfortable silence, as the purple coded brother did his best work when there were minimal distractions. But for Y/N, that meant keeping all audible cries of excitement or groans of defeat to a minimum while gaming. And sure, that was a reasonable request for a while, but had it really already been four hours?! As Y/N glanced down at their phone for the time, they let out a loud, heavy sigh as boredom overwhelmed their usually active mind.

"Don, how much longer do I gotta sit here? I'm practically dying of boredom. I'm terminal now. Terminal!" They slumped themselves back over the cushion, causing it to wheeze under the shifted weight.

"Just a few minor adjustments left and we'll be as good as gold." Donnie hadn't even looked up from the tester bot he was tinkering with, something which Y/N met with a frustrated scowl.

"And by a few, you mean…?"

"I still need to work on recalibrating the external displays to account for the large-"

"UUUGH, no, how long! I've been here so long that my leg's've atro- asta-… ASTROFIELD!"

Donnie could hardly contain the snort that sounded from under his welding mask.

"I think the term you're looking for is 'atrophied' and no, I seriously doubt that the mere act of sitting is enough to deteriorate muscle tissue."

"Whatever. I'm dying here and you wanna lecture me on-"

They were interrupted by the soft thudding of approaching footsteps, the unmistakable sound of Raph entering the lab.

"Heya, D. Y/N. Sorry to barge in on y'all, just wanted to check in and see if y'guys needed anything. It's been, uh… A while and it's gettin' dark so-"

"Raph, will you tell Dorkie here to quit holdin' me hostage and let me go? He's been keeping me prisoner here and I haven't even gotten my one phone call!" Y/N teased. Their moniker was successful in tearing Donnie's attention away from his desk across the room to shoot them a bitter glare.

"Heh, y'know Y/N, you could leave anytime you wanted, right? It's not like he's actually gonna trap you here. Er… Right?" Raphael's playful expression tinged itself with a hint of concern as he, for a moment, considered the possibility of a hostage negotiation with his little brother.

"Nah, I'm actually good here. I just want something more to DO when I'm here. I can't just be here for moral support, y'know." They stuck their tongue out at the softshell as they rolled themselves off the bag and plopped softly onto the tile floor.

The eldest mutant scratched at the back of his neck with a chuckle. Of course Donnie would tell them it's for 'moral support'.

"Uh, Y/N. You do know he only really keeps you in here because he's got a thing for you, right? That whole moral support thing's a load of crock."

It was at that moment that the ambient hum of tools stopped and tense silence flooded in its place. Y/N propped themselves up on elbows and craned their neck towards Donatello who sat faced away from them with tense shoulders bunched up.

Sensing the awkward situation he'd now put them in, Raph let out a small hiss of regret between his teeth and slowly shuffled his feet back towards the door.

"Riiight… So, you guys good? Yeah? Yeah. I'm gonna just-"

And with that, he practically bolted for the door, leaving Y/N and Donnie to stew in the thick air of their own embarrassment.

"D-Donnie…" Y/N could barely squeak, their eyes fixed to the empty doorway as if they were pleading for Raph to come back and take the awkward with him.

Donnie took in a sharp breath and in one swift motion, pushed his work chair back and spun to face his companion with only his iron-will keeping him from running out of the lab himself.

"I-" He started, his face dark red and his lip quivering with anxiety as his mind parsed through the many scenarios in which this sort of confession could've gone.

"I knew it couldn't have been just for my good looks." Y/N's smug grin and flirtatious wink did little to alleviate the mutant's humiliation.

"Huh?"

"For the record…" Scooting up to Donnie's hunched form, Y/N gently took his hands into theirs and kept their gaze locked to the floor as the faintest blush dusted their cheeks, "I have a thing for you too."

Out of every scenario he'd managed to file through, this one was one outcome he didn't anticipate. But one he would happily accept.

[lowkeyremi]

A drabble based off Samu's part of this post cuz I miss little haruki

summary: haruki has to hang out with his uncle 'tsumu while his parents are at the hospital

Atsumu and Haruki have been staring each other down since Osamu dropped him off ten minutes ago. Haruki has seen his uncle 'Tsumu many times before, even on TV, but never has his uncle babysat him.

"So kid... what do ya wanna do?" Usually when Atsumu's with his nephew it's under the supervision of you or Osamu. Being completely alone with him is new to both of them.

"Um. I don't know, do ya have any toys?" Your carbon copy asks.

"Nah, I don't play with toys, I'ma grown man." He explains to his nephew. The small child doesn't like that response, "When I'm a grown up I'm gonna play with toys!"

Atsumu ultimately forgets that Haruki is a little boy with childish ideas, so he chuckles at his statement.

"No ya won't, kid."

"Yes I will!"

"No ya won't."

"Yes I wi-"

"Hey! How 'bout we play some volleyball, huh?" The blond athlete realizes there is absolutely no point in fighting with a six year old.

"I hate volleyball, it's boring." A loud gasp escapes Atsumu's lips and he feels like he's been shot right in the chest.

"Yer lying, right? Haha that was pretty funny, made me laugh." He refuses to believe that any nephew or niece of his would hate volleyball. He has to be joking...

"'m serious! Papa took me to a volleyball camp last year 'n I hated it! Everyone was so mean to me 'n they kept telling me I couldn't hold the ball for myself." Well, there's the problem. As a six year old everything is about you, you, you. So, Atsumu assumes Haruki didn't like it because he wasn't the center of attention.

"Let me tell ya a lil' something. I'm gonna go get a volleyball and I'll tell ya this story while we're outside." Haruki's obviously skeptical of what his uncle plans on doing but he'll go along with it for right now.

The little boy sets his Sonic themed backpack down by the front door, when he makes sure all his toys are secure in his bag, he slowly stomps his way to the sliding glass doors that lead to his uncle's backyard.

There's a net that's way too big for Haruki to hit anything over it outside, which immediately discourages him. Atsumu soon returns with a volleyball in his hands, Haruki would assume with all that money his uncle makes he'd have a nicer looking volleyball, but the one he's holding is all beat up and dirty.

"Are ya too poor to get a better ball?" Atsumu doesn't even take it to offense because he knows Haruki is genuinely curious and not trying to be rude.

"Nah, this ball is older than ya are. 's the ball me n yer papa used to use when we were first startin' out." That seems to ignite a new interest in the little boy, well, if his excited gasps were anything to go by.

"I'ma give it to ya so ya'll have somethin' to use when you play." This isn't enough to convince Haruki to play volleyball but Atsumu's not done just yet. He still has to tell him the story, but first they have to set up the small net, so Haruki can hit over it.

Atsumu opens up his shed to find the little beat up box that contained he and Osamu's old volleyball net from their elementary school days.

"Woah! That net is the perfect size for me!" His nephew screeches in excitement.

"Yeah 's also older than ya." The two set up the net and Atsumu teaches Haruki the form to receive. He tosses the small boy a few so he can get used to receiving.

"Okay, so, I wanted to tell ya that, volleyball ain't all about you, but at the same time it is," Haruki doesn't say anything in return. No little kid wants to hear that everything isn't about them.

"I had trouble understandin' that m'self when I was growin' up. I thought- nah I knew I was the shit so I acted prideful 'bout it." His nephew gasps at him saying a bad word, but he doesn't interrupt his story.

"'n I really don't care who likes me and who doesn't. I was like that back then too, so I never really had anyone besides 'Samu to play with. Which was fine when we were young, but in a real game, ya need six people." Haruki nods his head to let his uncle know he's listening.

"I had to realize that volleyball was a team effort 'n I couldn't play the whole game, m'self," He pauses for a second to bump the ball back the Haruki.

"That was also when I started to realize, it really was all about me, 'cause if yer a good setter all yer hitters gotta rely on ya. They need ya to set to 'em." Haruki pauses for a second.

"What if I don't wanna set? I wanna be a hitter like papa was." Atsumu smiles at him.

"It applies to hitters too, if yer a good hitter then yer setter will most likely set to ya the most often, 'cause ya can score." Haruki's eyes light up with a new sense of hope.

"Will you teach me more about volleyball, Uncle 'Tsumu?" Atsumu's earlier dread has completely left his body, his nephew didn't hate volleyball, he hated not being the center of attention, just like Atsumu did.

The two go back into the house when the sun is almost down. Haruki had learned so much from his uncle, and he was excited to show all of it to you and Osamu.

Atsumu goes to call his brother to realize that he had missed 4 calls from him and a few texts with pictures attached.

"Haruki! Hurry up 'n get in here! Yer sister is born!!" Haruki comes running in with his new (old) volleyball.

"Lemme see her!!!" He tries to grab his uncle's phone.

"Be patient, ya little gremlin." Atsumu pulls up the picture and hands his phone to tiny, grubby hands. You look very tired, but a small smile graces your face and you're holding a tiny little bundle in your arms. The next couple of pictures are Osamu holding his daughter too.

"Ew, why is she so wrinkly?" Atsumu tries and fails to hold in a chuckle. His nephew's face is all scrunched up and disgusted.

"'s 'cause she was just born. She's been swimming 'round in yer ma's belly for the past nine months. Kinda like how ya stay in the bath for too long and yer fingers start to get wrinkly." Atsumu explains, Haruki's not convinced, at all.

"Ya looked the same way when ya were born." Haruki shakes his head so fast Atsumu wouldn't be surprised if his head popped off.

"Nuh-uh. I was never wrinkly!" Atsumu is quick to go through his albums to find the one of Haruki's birth.

"Yea ya did, look." Haruki takes a good look at the picture before jumping up in surprise.

"EWWW I WAS WRINKLY!!!!" He starts running around like a crazy animal on the loose, screams leaving his lips.

Atsumu snorts, "We were all wrinkly babies at one point." The setter also learns how rewarding being an uncle is.

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[crackedpumpkin]

ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ

a/n: I can't find any other suitable danny gif, so this'll have to do 😔

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Hating Danny Fenton comes to you as naturally as breathing. Like how the world orbits around the sun, and how Amity Park is almost always overrun by ghosts, it’s simply just a way of life. 

That doesn’t mean that it makes it any less bearable to be around him though.

See, it wasn’t really your fault to begin with. Your parents are still on good terms with each other, but in reality, you hate his entire being to bits. The feeling’s mutual though, as clearly shown by the amount of times he’s screwed you over. 

It all started in preschool, when he’d pushed you off the playground swing set even though your turn wasn’t up yet. You’d fallen on your face, scratches and bruises littering your arms and legs. When you cried, he merely ignored you and continued to play around. 

There were plenty of other incidents too, ranging from kicking down your sandcastle and even swiping your crayons when you weren’t looking. Either way, all those situations had culminated into an instinctual dislike, fuelled even further when the both of you got paired up for a project.

“If you could just stop breathing for a minute, I’d be incredibly grateful.” He rolls his eyes at your snide remark, getting up from his seat to pour more water from a half-filled jug on his desk. 

“I would, but then again it’d mean all this precious air would go to waste on you,” he responds instantly, taking a sip of water. “And as someone who cares deeply about the Earth, I’d hate for you to continue being a waste of space.”

Breathe in, breathe out. Control your temper. This is not grounds to start a fight with him. You’re better than this. It’s only temporary, and this project will be over quicker than you can say ‘oyster’.

“Let’s just get this over and done with, Fenton. The faster we finish, the sooner we don’t have to see each other outside of school.” The project itself isn’t that difficult — you’d just have to interview some residents around the neighbourhood regarding the ghost sightings that’d been appearing more and more regularly as of late.

Initially, you’d been the first to force down your disdain for him and reach out, trying to schedule a day to try and finish the project. However, he always seemed to either leave you on read, or mysteriously disappear and reply only hours later. 

Finally, you’d cornered him at school and forced him to head back home with you, deciding to finish the project at his house so that your parents wouldn’t see him and invite him to stay for dinner. 

“What’s with the closet, anyway?” You ask, glancing at the drawers that seem to be practically bursting with clothes. Some spill over, and you’re pretty sure you spot a pair of worn socks that lay around somewhere.

“Oh, that?” He sits back down, barely sparing it a glance. “What’s wrong with it?” He picks up the pen and starts scribbling down survey questions. He pays no mind to the way you squint at him, scrutinising his irritation. 

Fine. You shrug. If he’s not going to at least try to be civil, then there’s no point in trying, is there? May as well just get what needs to be done, done. You open the slide deck on your laptop, figuring out a format. “We should ask around about this new guy, have you heard about him? ‘Inviso-Bill’ or something.”

“It’s not Inviso-Bill.” Danny’s sudden remark is filled with frustration, drawing your attention and surprise. “It’s not.” He adds after, sensing that he probably reacted a little too strongly. Refusing to look you in the eyes, he continues to scribble away. 

Weirdo.

You cross your arms. “Okay, what is he called then?” Silence fills the air. You spot the way his eyebrow twitches slightly, and the slight downturn of his lips. Even though you prefer to hate him, annoying him is far more enjoyable. “Inviso-Bill it is.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs through gritted teeth. “Let’s just get it done.”

“Fine. I’ll take the three houses on the next street, and you just do whatever.” Gathering the papers you’d consolidated ideas on during class, you get up and leave his room, ignoring the way his shoulders slump slightly. 

Passing by the kitchen, your steps slow at the entrance to the basement. It’d been a while since you saw Mr and Mrs Fenton, and your parents still try to arrange regular meetups with each other. The stairs leading down to the basement beckon to you, following the strange green glow downstairs.

Mr and Mrs Fenton stand near a metal gateway, stashing away metal appliances and what seems to be D.I.Y metal guns. You knew they were ghost hunters, but not how involved they were. The hesitation you feel doesn’t last long when Mrs Fenton spots you and calls out your name happily as she approaches you.

“It’s been so long since I last saw you! How’ve you been, dear?” Mrs Fenton grabs your shoulders tightly, leaning down and kissing your cheek. You laugh awkwardly, shoulders relaxing when she lets go. 

“I’ve been alright. Mom and Dad say hi.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner? You definitely should. I’ll let your parents know.” She decides unilaterally, whipping out her phone and sending a swift text before you can protest. 

“No, that’s okay! I mean, it’ll be late, so my parents won’t be able to pick me up.” You try to make an excuse, looking for a way to get out of this. If Danny found out about this, you’re pretty sure the hostility in your nonexistent relationship would surely worsen.

“Mom? Dad? What’re you doing here?” 

Speak of the devil.

“Danny, my boy! We were just chatting with her about having dinner together. After all, your mother did make lasagna earlier.” Mr Fenton greets his son cheerfully, stashing away a gun at the same time. 

“That won’t be necessary.” Danny’s gaze turns icy, directing it at you with every intention to get you to refuse. You can only shrug helplessly, gesturing to the text that’s clearly sent on his mother’s phone. 

“Oh, don’t be like that! After all, what’s a little dinner between a married couple?”

“WHAT?”

Both your reactions are immediate, eyes wide as you stare at his parents in disbelief. Your lips part, trying to think of what to say. “Mom, Dad, this isn’t funny,” Danny states, already looking nauseous at the mere thought.

“It’s not a joke. Don’t you both remember?” She looks between you two, tilting her head in innocent wonder.

“No? I think we’d remember getting married, of all things.” Bile rises in the back of your throat and you force it back down, trying to answer her calmly. 

“Same,” Mr Fenton looks at his wife in confusion, scratching the side of his head.

She chuckles, hitting her husband’s arm lightly. “Of course! Don’t you remember, Jack? They dressed up and everything, it was conducted at the playground. They even kissed each other! It was so cute. I’m sure we have a picture somewhere.”

“You do realise we were just kids, right?” 

“Obviously, Danny. But you should have seen the way you were all sulky and mean after she started spending more time with Tommy. You even destroyed her sandcastle that time!” Mrs Fenton points out, showing you both the video of young Danny kicking down the sandcastle you’d spent so much time working on in the sandpit. “I remember you crying after she got mad. I still have the card you made as an apology.”

You turn your head slowly, looking at a very visibly flustered Danny. “Mom, that never happened.” He denies it, cheeks tinted pink. “Neither did the ‘wedding’.” He uses air quotes, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, finding a reason to leave. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a project to work on.”

Bidding them goodbye, you follow him up the stairs into the living room where his materials are scattered about. “Did a hurricane go through here or something?” The tense atmosphere doesn’t dissipate, even with the snarky remark. 

He kneels down, picking up his papers. After a moment of hesitation, you kneel down and help him. One last piece of paper remains on the floor. As you go to pick it up, a cold hand lands right on top of yours. 

It’s an instinctive flinch, both of you tugging your hands back to your chests as if burned by hot coals. It’s not the most pleasant of sensations, but surprisingly not the worst. After the utter bomb of information that his parents have just dropped, it’s only normal that you’d both be rattled. 

“So,” You clear your throat, daring to pick up the last piece of paper regardless and standing back up. Stacking them together and handing them back to him, you draw it back as he reaches out to take it. “Where’s the card?”

He frowns, trying to grab the stack of papers you hold just out of his reach before giving up. “What card?” He asks reluctantly, though the glint of recognition in his eyes tips you off. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 

“The card. I deserve it, so hand it over.” 

“It was ages ago! I don’t even have it anymore.”

“I could always check with your mom.” You shrug innocently, watching his expressions morph from annoyance to frustration, and finally defeat. 

He storms over to a random drawer located right next to the television, pulling it open. He reaches in and pulls out a card that’s clearly decorated by someone with the art skill of a preschooler, handing it to you with a scowl. 

You exchange it with his stack of papers, taking it with a satisfied smile. “Why’s it even important to you anyway?” You hear him mumble under his breath. 

“Hey, I spent hours on that sandcastle you destroyed. I deserve to see you suffer, even if it’s just a little bit.” 

“It’s just a sandcastle,” He states plainly as if speaking to a child. You roll your eyes, glaring at him. 

“That sandcastle was going to be our fort, you idiot. I built it for us to play with. And those crayons you took away from me too? I was gonna use them to draw a birthday card for you.” Finally flipping open the card at his silence, warmth spreads across your cheeks as embarrassment creeps up your neck.

You’d gotten a little frustrated at his idiocy, but you didn’t actually intend to tell him about the true intentions behind both incidents. However, what you see in the card leaves you speechless.

‘Sorry’ is carefully written in your favourite colour on the top, albeit still messy. A drawing of a girl you assume to be you is holding hands with a blob whom you assume to be Danny. Both of you are smiling in the drawing, and a heart that’s coloured red is creatively placed in both figures. 

The pure innocence in it is touching. Plus, the card itself is still surprisingly clean and well-kept, like someone had purposely made sure it wasn’t stained in any way. “I never found the right time to give it to you.” Dany voices out quietly, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

A breath catches in your chest, looking at him with new understanding. A moment of silence passes, neither of you looking away. The fact that he’d kept it safe and cared for all this time tugs at your heartstrings. You break the stare first, looking back down at the card with a soft smile.

“You’re an idiot.” 

[victoryverse]

Hmm...i have this messy scenario where reader and Simon are like enemy/rival to each other—well actually it's only from Simon's side since he has crush on reader without him realizing it and he also doesn't know how to act regarding his feeling so yeah Simon being Simon—he acted like a jerk to his crush. And reader actually has no clue nor idea why Simon hates them, not to mention he always throw that distasteful glance to reader. So one day on a mission, Simon and reader end up as duo and when they are taking a break in a safehouse, there's only one bottle of water left. They kinda fight for it and it's obvious that Simon would win, so he chugs down almost whole bottle. Before he really finishes, Simon pulls reader's collar and kisses them while also pouring the water down to their mouth. It may extends into long short makeout session depends on Simon's true intention at the time :))

~🫧

rivals*

warnings: cursing, hate feeling, smut towards the end, kissing! 🙈

The tension between Simon and you had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks, like a volcano ready to erupt at any moment. From the moment you had been assigned as partners on missions, it was clear that there was an unspoken rivalry brewing between you, fueled by snide remarks and competitive banter.

Today was no different. As you found yourselves holed up in a safehouse during a particularly grueling mission, the atmosphere crackled with an intensity that was hard to ignore. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the only sound was the faint hum of the ventilation system.

You sat across from each other, both exhausted from the day's events, but neither willing to break the silence. The tension between you was suffocating, and you wished desperately for a distraction to break the ice.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, you spoke up, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, this is cozy, isn't it? Two sworn enemies forced to share a safehouse. What could possibly go wrong?"

Simon's lips curled into a sneer as he met your gaze, his eyes cold and calculating. "Oh, I don't know, maybe you could try not getting in my way for once. That would be a nice change of pace."

You rolled your eyes, refusing to let his barbs get under your skin. "Please, Simon, like you're the picture of efficiency. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to sabotage our mission."

Simon's jaw clenched, his expression darkening with anger. "Funny, coming from the one who can't seem to follow orders without screwing up."

The words stung, but you refused to let him see how much they affected you. Instead, you shot back with a cutting remark of your own. "At least I don't let my ego get in the way of doing my job. Unlike some people I know."

Simon's eyes narrowed, his fists clenching at his sides. "Watch it, Y/N, or you might find yourself on the wrong end of my fist."

You scoffed, unimpressed by his empty threats. "Please, Simon, we both know you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn if your life depended on it."

The tension between you reached a boiling point, the air practically crackling with animosity. You both knew that this was a battle neither of you could win, but neither of you were willing to back down.

Just then, Simon reached for the last remaining bottle of water, his hand closing around it possessively. Your eyes widened in surprise, realizing that you were both reaching for it simultaneously.

"Hey, that's mine," you protested, trying to snatch it from his grasp.

Simon's lips curled into a smirk as he held the bottle just out of your reach. "Finders keepers, loser weepers," he taunted, his tone dripping with arrogance.

You scowled, feeling a surge of frustration coursing through you. "You can't be serious. We're supposed to be partners, Simon."

But Simon didn't seem to care. Instead, he twisted the cap off the bottle and took a long, exaggerated swig, relishing in your annoyance.

Before you could protest further, he leaned across the table, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck as he pulled you towards him. Your eyes widened in shock, your breath catching in your throat as his lips crashed against yours.

For a moment, you were too stunned to react, your mind struggling to process what was happening. But then, as the shock wore off, you found yourself melting into the kiss, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

Simon's lips were surprisingly soft against yours, his kiss filled with a raw intensity that sent shivers down your spine. You could taste the water on your lips, little drops pouring from his mouth into yours, that made the moment even more hotter.

As the kiss deepened, you felt Simon's other hand sliding down your chest, his touch sending sparks of electricity coursing through your veins. You knew you should pull away, that this was wrong on so many levels, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop. Not when he kissed you like that.

It was as if all the pent-up tension between you had finally reached its breaking point, and now, there was no turning back. You found yourself surrendering to the heat of the moment, allowing yourself to get lost in the sensation of Simon's lips against yours.

But just as quickly as it had begun, the kiss was over, leaving you breathless and bewildered. Simon pulled away, his eyes dark with desire as he looked at you, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, you simply stared at each other, both of you shocked. And then, as if on cue, the reality of the situation came crashing down around you.

"What… what was that?" you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Simon's expression softened, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "I… I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heartbeats. "I just… I couldn't stand the thought of you being mad at me anymore."

You blinked in surprise, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly falling into place. So that was it – all this time, Simon had been acting like a jerk because he couldn't deal with his own feelings for you.

A wave of sympathy washed over you and you reached out, tentatively placing a hand on his arm.

"I didn't realize," you murmured, your voice soft with compassion. "I had no idea you felt that way."

Simon looked at you, his gaze searching yours for any sign of rejection. But all he found was warmth and acceptance, a silent invitation. The hate and regret was melting into something else, and soon, he pulled his lips back on yours, his ahds gripping your waist harshly and pulling you on him completely.

You straddled his thigh, his rough hands grabbing handfuls of your flesh and moans spilling from your lips as she grabbed an spanked your ass.

"Simon, oh godd--"

Your words remained lodged in your throat, as he flipped you over, making you lay down on the floor and gripping your bulletproof jacket, pulling it off you. He pulled the intercom too, and you gasped as he began undoing your belt.

"But, but si--the mission?" you asked, your voice ragged and breathless.

"Fuck the mission. All I want to concentrate on is you and this tight little pussy of yours"

[romanstheory]

Midnight Flowers a Damian Priest One Shot

Warnings: language, smut, public sex, drinking

Word count: 1,630

Inspired By: Midnight Sky & Flowers by Miley Cyrus

The music in this club vibrates through me, I can feel it in my bones. The intoxicating boom on the base through this place always leaves me wanting more. My skin tight black dress leaves very little to the imagination as my hips sway to the beat of the music. Eyes closed, head back, enchanted. I've been single now for a month, and damn it's been the best month of my life. No begging for attention, no worrying about if he's sleeping around, no crying myself to sleep. I broke things off with Luis... Damian last time he was home from being on the road a month ago. I spent 4 years shackled to him just trying to hold on to see if it would get better.

Stupid is what I was because it never did get any better. The beginning was like magic, something you read about in a book but then he got a push from WWE and it felt like he himself had changed. He had tunnel vision on what he wanted and I became an afterthought. But none of that matters anymore, i can be free by myself. No him, no WWE, no crying myself to sleep or wondering if I'm enough. Because I am more than enough, I always was. I buy myself the flowers he wouldn't, take myself on the dates he thought were stupid, watch the shows he ignored.

He was the perfect partner until he.... Wasn't and I realized that I deserved more, I DESERVE more. So I ended it and I walked away before he could respond or I could take back what I had just done. I walked away and I never looked back. I cried myself to sleep that night, my body ached in every way possible, my heart shattered. "It's for your own good" I told myself over and over again until I believed it. Now I believe it as I dance in this club freely belonging to no one. The song switches which is the only reason I break from the trance the music hold over me. Slowly I open my eyes before going to the bar for one more drink. "I'll take a lemon drop and my tab!" I say sweetly to the bartender, he gives me a nod in return.

I hear people around me gasping and talking amongst each other, but I choose to scroll on my phone and sip my sweetly bitter drink. Someone sits next to me, again I choose to ignore it, probably just a sloppy drunk man ready to shoot his shot. Though I wouldn't blame him I am painfully uninterested in entertaining anyone tonight least of all a sloppy drunk man I'll have to baby and care for. "I'll just take whatever beer you have on draft" A deep voice rumbles next to me. Is it... no, it couldn't be right? It's been a month since I've seen him, surely this isn't a random pit stop. "You look good" The voice rumbles again. I peek out of the corner of my eye, refusing to face him, and of course there he is in all of his asshole glory.... Damian Priest.

"I know" I reply cooly before taking a big sip of my drink. He chuckles before shaking his head "Nice to see you too". I roll my eyes before gulping down the rest of my drink, I'm about to need it. "You never told me why you broke up with me" Damian says before drinking deeply from his glass "You just kind of dipped out". Anger burns deep within me before my head finally snaps over to him. Beautiful, he's so fucking beautiful I hate it. His hair is slicked back in a bun, his beard freshly trimmed, and he smells masculine with some hints of floral nodes. "I didn't think I needed to, my reasons seemed pretty in your face".

"Why are you here?" My voice dry and monotone "I was having a great time until you got here". His eyes catch my breasts before moving down to the rest of my body, and back up again to my face. Chugging his beer until the glass is empty he holds my stare again "I had some extra time, thought I could find you here so I came". Damian's mouth opens before closing again as if he's trying to figure out the words he wants to say "Can we go on a walk?". I stare at him for a long moment before replying "Pay for my tab and I'll walk". A nod is Damian's response before paying for both of our drinks. My head sings with the sweet buzz of alcohol, enough to make me okay with this stupid ass walk I'm about to go on.

The summer air brushes against my exposed skin as we begin our walk. Our stupid ass walk. "So?" I ask, refusing to look him in his stupid beautiful face. "So..." He replies. Oh fuck me... Here we go with this again. "Why are you here anyway? Why choose tonight to ruin my night?" Anger laced with sadness fills my gut. Sharply exhaled through his nose "I just... wanted to see you is that okay? Does it even matter?". Abruptly I stop walking "Yeah it fucking matters! I haven't seen you since I broke up with you Luis" My voice amplifies with every word. "Damn wanna be a little louder? I don't think they can hear you down the block" Damian's jaw twitches with what I assume is embarrassment.

"Why didn't you fight for me? Was I just not worth fighting for?" The words pour out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Was our relationship not worth fighting for?". Truthfully, by the time I ended things there was not relationship left to fight for. But that didn't stop me from wanting him to say... something... anything. "You were always worth fighting for. I just didn't see it until you were already gone" His hands lay loose at his side like he's awaiting defeat. "I know" My voice is just above a whisper because that's the only way my lips will allow it to escape. "I know I was always worth fighting for but you convinced me I hadn't been... And now I know I don't need you to be loved".

His head hangs in defeat for only a breath before his long legs close the distance between us, before he pulls me into an alley. "Luis what the fu-" His lips meet mine before I can finish. Melting, I'm fucking melting into the kiss. Oh I hate him but my body aches for him, leaning deeper into the kiss. "I know you don't need me, I'm glad you don't but I need you... Right now I need you" His voice is so deep it rumbles like thunder against my lips. "If you won't accept my apology then let me fuck you so you know I mean it". My body sings with excitement. He may have not been a good boyfriend, but he fucks like his life depends on it, and I am more than willing to allow it even in this alley.

"You better fuck me good, and fast before somebody sees us" I purr into his ear. That was all he needed, he was pulling at his belt and lifting my dress before I could take my next breath. Sliding my panties to the side he pushes his thick hard member against my entrance. Damian plants soft bites along my jaw and neck forcing soft moans out of my mouth. Damian grips my my thighs, putting my back against the cold brick wall before pushing into me with one stroke. A yelp escapes me "Shhh mami don't get the fun cut short" He purrs into my neck

My legs tighten around his waist as I bite my bottom lip to keep another moan from escaping me. Over and over again he pushes his long thick length into me, massaging every inch of me. "I missed this, missed you" He purrs again "Nobody feels like you, mami" His accent sends my head spinning, his grip on my thighs tighten, fingers digging in so rough I'm sure it'll leave a mark. "Nobody fucks me like you" I whisper, the words seems to be ammunition for him because he pounds into me harder, faster, deeper. I squeal again "Mami tranquila, you'll ruin the fun" A devilish grin spreads across his stupid face.

He sucks on my neck, leaving red marks behind, is he trying to make his territory? Do I care? Does anyone else? My climax is imminent, but I don't want it to end. I rock my hips back and forth edging myself on, our hips colliding over and over again. A low grumble escapes him before he throws his head back. "Fuck" He groans low. Over and over I rock my hips into him, massaging my sensitive space. Warmth fills me before my body is in pure ecstasy. Light flashes and my vision blurs before he pushes into me deeply, growling like some sort of wild animal, releasing his load deeply into me. Quickly he puts my down and we fix ourselves still panting like wild animals. He looks at me, those once lust-filled eyes now coated with thick sorrow and longing. "I really am sorry" He says after a long pause. "I know" I say before walking away, leaving him in the alley alone. I don't belong to anyone not even Damian Priest... Luis... whatever the fuck he wants to be called. I fix my hair as I walk down the sidewalk, a smirk smeared across my face. Damn, that felt good.

[ripdragonbeans]

Bonded To Dragons

Chapter 1: Meeting Your Bonded

Warnings: None

Finally, after years of wondering, at the age of twenty-two, you were going to meet your Bonded. Finding out you were a Central was a surprise to you and your family. Finding out who you were Bonded to was even moreso. You shook out your hands, trying to keep them dry from the clamminess that now coated them. It was nerve wracking, meeting your Bonded. Their lives were tied to yours. It’s instinct for them to do anything to protect you. You could only hope that they felt the same way and it wasn’t only just instinct fueling them. Sometimes, finding a genuine connection within a Bonded Circle could be hard. You refused for yours to be a forced one. You wanted yours to be genuine, full of trust and respect for each other.

As you approached the door that led to your Bonded, you took one last deep breath before opening it.

You entered a cold room to find your three Bonded waiting for you. Aemond, Aegon, and Jace. All three of them were slouched in a chair doing one thing or another to pass the time. One of them was tall and lanky with long silver blond hair and an eye patch. His eye snapped to yours the moment you walked in. His stare was so intimidating that you had to look away. You focused on one of the other guys. There was another with shoulder length silver blind hair. One leg was crossed over the other and he lounged on his phone scrolling through what looked like a dating app. The thought of one of you Bonded on a date with someone irked you but you let it slide for now. The only one without silver blind hair sat a little straighter. When his eyes locked onto yours, you felt yourself relax. You could do this.

“Hi, I'm -”

“We know who you are, Byka Zaldrīzes,” said the long haired one. He didn't look up from his phone or even get up from his chair.

“Why did you call me little dragon?” You asked him.

“I'm impressed you know High Valyrian. And to answer your question,” he hummed. “Because you're ours.”

You crossed your arms and lifted your chin up high. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

“And that's where you're wrong, Byka Zaldrīzes. You're our Central. It's our job to take care of you.” His violet eye bore into yours.

So this is what it would be like to be a Central with these three. Constantly coddled by one man while the other two just do their own thing. Of course this is how the Targaryen Bond Circle would be. Hoping things would get better, you muttered words of annoyance under your breath as you walked to the other side of the room.

The one with curly dark brown hair got up and brushed his hands on his jeans before walking up to you. His eyes were a beautiful brown and had small flecks of gold in them. He flashed you a smile as he approached you.

“My name’s Jacaerys but you can call me Jace.” He put a fist over his heart and bowed slightly. “I promise to protect you with my life. I am honored to be your Bonded.” He took your hand in his and brushed his lips against your knuckles.

Your breath caught in your throat at the vow. No one has ever been this loyal to you yet here someone was, pledging their life to yours.

“Th- Thank you, Jace. That is very sweet of you. And I promise to protect your life with my own as well,” you said quickly without thinking.

Someone growled behind you. “There will be no promise of the sort.”

Annoyance started to tickle your nose.

“And why is that?” You turned to face the voice. It was the long haired one again. The one with an eye patch.

“Once again, it is us, the Bonded, who protect the Central. It is not the other way around.” He stared at you fiercely as though he was asking you to challenge him.

“I'm going to assume you are Aemond,” you said. “The one who knows everything. I am sorry to say, however, you don't know me or what I'm capable of.”

“You'd be surprised to know what I know, Byka Zaldrīzes.” Aemond got up and circled you with his hands behind his back. He observed you as one would observe an insect or a science experiment.. “Do you know why I call you little dragon?”

“You said you call me that because, according to you, I’m yours.”

“You are. And you are just that, a dragon. Just like me and my brother here, the one who hasn't even looked up,” Aemond paused to smack the last one in the chair. “You're a dragon shifter.”

You scoffed. “How can you be so sure? We just met.”

“Every Targaryen bonded group has been a group of dragon shifters. We're revered throughout the community. We're wanted, desired. You are one of the lucky ones.” He cast a sideways glance at Jace. “And him, too.”

“Of course I'm a dragon shifter,” said Jace. He puffed up his chest. “My mother is a Targaryen. She's a dragon shifter so I am as well. I didn't need to be put into a Targaryen Bond Circle to know that.”

“Some of us aren't that fortunate to already have the knowledge,” you muttered.

Jace’s eyes went wide. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I'm sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I forget that your power isn't something you're automatically told once it's known sometimes. My family was always big on telling us so we could work on honing our skills.”

“I wish my parents were like that,” you said wistfully. “Up until Aemond said anything, I never even thought about possibly being a dragon shifter. But being your Central, it would make sense.”

You thought of your family, what your father might be thinking now, how proud he would be to learn his daughter is a dragon shifter. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes at the thought of him, the only one in your family still alive due to the war. For him you’d see this through.

“Are we done here?” complained the other silver headed one.

“You haven’t even introduced yourself and yet you want to leave?” Aemond asked his brother.

“Yeah, I got a hot date in a few hours!” he insisted.

Anger ran through your veins. “Hot date? You have a Central Bond. Me.”

None of your Bonded would touch another so intimately except for you. You didn’t want to act rash or stupid, but it was part of being a Bonded. It was part of that primal part of you. No one touched your Bonded. The mere thought of Aegon being with someone else made your blood boil.

“Ah, yes, how could I forget?” Aegon finally looked up at you. He gave you one glance over before turning back to his phone. “You’re cute but I’m not giving up my social life for you.”

Aemond smacked his brother on the side of his head. “You are one of her Bonded and you will respect her.”

“I’ll respect her but I’m not gonna lose out on any hotties because of our Bond.”

“So,” you piped up, “you wouldn’t mind if I slept with any other guy?”

Jace and Aemond immediately turned to you, eyes ablaze.

“You will do no such thing,” growled Aemond.

Aegon shrugged but you could see the uneasiness in his eyes.

You took a step towards him. “Don’t lie to me, Aegon. You know the thought of me being with another guy drives you up a wall. If you’re gonna fuck with anyone, it’s gonna be me.”

Hot tension suddenly filled the room. Aemond gripped the chair closest to him as Jace took three long strides to get to you. He pulled you into his side and ran his nose up the length of your neck.

“I won’t push you,” Jace whispered in your ear, “but know that I am more than ready for us to complete our Bond.”

A shiver went up your spine at his words.

Jace backed away and Aemond was quick to take his place. He pulled you in tight with a hand around your waist. He cupped your face with his free hand and placed a whisper of a kiss over your lips. “I will always be yours. Now and forever. Say the word and we’ll complete our Bond.”

All you could do was nod at his words. You wanted to pull him closer, hell, you wanted to complete the bond right then and there. Instead, you brushed your lips against his, like he did to you, then took a step back.

“So it’s settled then. We’re the Targaryen Bond Circle.”

A few hours later, the four of you sat at a cafe. It was purely to get to know each other and to strengthen the Bonds between you all. No powers, no shifting, just four people out for the day together.

“I’d like to spend the next few days getting to know you guys better,” you told them. “Maybe I could spend one day with one of you over the next three days? Like tomorrow I’ll spend all day with Jace?”

“That works for me,” said Jace. He covered your hand with his and gave you a small smile.

Out of the three of your Bonded, Jace has been the sweetest. He was careful not to push any boundaries but you also assured him there were very few. The primal need of the Bond wanted you to be as physically close to all three of them as possible and Jace was more than happy to take that up. He always had a hand on or around you.

Being with your Bonded has brought a sense of calm to you that you’ve never felt before. You felt almost complete. You knew as soon as all three of the Bonds were completed, everything would fall into place and feel perfectly. But until then this was more than enough to make you happy.

[firemenenthusiast]

—“till death do us apart”

farleigh start x fem! reader

summary: sometimes even fate can be altered

warnings: angst. read at your own risk. plot twist. grammar of a non native english speaker

a/n: am i in my angst era ? also this is for mon cheri @farleighlover 😋 revenge for writing ‘numbingly obsessed’. this fic idea was like a bazooka shooting into my face i had to write it down

“What if we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine. Nothing could keep us apart. You'd be the one I was meant to find”

the way the sun was shining brightly outside his window, soft amber glare richoceting off the balcony of his apartment told him that the even the universe was looking down upon them, blessing the entire day.-

it was cloudy, the sky hanging puffs of fluffy white, but not the type of cloudy that makes everyone moody, no. it was just nice, he thought, as he adjusted the gleaming links on his cuffs, black ribboned tux sitting perfectly on his broad shoulders. cocking his head slightly to the side, his tight dark brown curls bouncing out of his face making him shudder in anticipation. or was it nerves ? he couldnt really tell, too many staggering emotions filling into his head, fighting each other for a place behind those eyes. taking a last deep breath, he adjusted himself in the mirror before turning towards the door, pair of leather shoes carrying him away.

it’s been five years since your class graduated from oxford, or should you call it your alma mater now. it was probably the greatest day ever, being finally done with excruciatingly painful days of all nighters, pushing through everything else just to chase after submission dates. as much as you’re glad that it’s all over, the collection of memories with people there wrapping you like a fuzzy blanket. the only thing making oxford the best phase of your life is the people there. your friends, your dormmates, your classmates, felix, oliver, farleigh.

and farleigh.

everything was better because you got farleigh. he was always there for you, supporting you, making you feel like the luckiest person in the world that out of all the girls in oxford that he could easily get with, he chose you. and you chose him. i mean, it wouldn’t really be anything between the two of you if you didn’t give him a chance. as much as you liked him before the start of your relationship, you weren’t gonna let him in that easily. just thinking about how much you made him suffer to win you over made you let out a soft chuckle. you’d throw the bouquet of fresh flowers he’d left on your designated seat in class immediately after seeing them and god, was that humiliating for him. one thing farleigh absolutely couldn’t stand was being humiliated, or rejected. but he pushed through, he refused to give up because he liked you so much. he’s willing to fight through everything if it meant that you’d just give him a chance. he suprised himself with how much he was doing just to make you accept him, cuz he swore he would never be down so bad just for a girl. but for you, all that pride and need to maintain his reputation just got thrown out the window.

you and farleigh, it was like the two of you were made for each other, maybe it was your fault for not seeing that sooner but your relationship with him was everything to you after you gave in and give him a chance. it was like red blood, pumping oxygen to every part of your existence, he was like air to you. farleigh made you happy, made you feel all giddy whenever he’d wait outside of your class for you to finish so the two of you could grab lunch together, he was your yellow, your rock. at times you could feel your heart grow even fonder of him, slowly falling head over heels. his bright pearly smile fuelled your entire being, you catch yourself secretly grinning whenever you’d think of him. he was very charming, though sometimes so annoying and bratty. you didn’t care, if anything he was your annoying brat. whenever the two of you would spend the whole day wrapped in each other’s arms, you’d let out the biggest sigh of contentment after getting back to your dorm. farleigh protected you, shielding you from anything that was gonna hurt you, from physical dangers to the emotional ones when you’d struggle with your mental health. he knew everything about you, he knew the tricks and tweaks of winning over your heart. he was your guardian angel.

you’d also noticed how beautiful of a day it was outside, and you were thanking the universe for granting the both of you a chance for this day to be as beautiful as it could be. it was everything you’ve ever dreamed of, and it was exactly like how you’d imagine and daydreamed about it to be since you were a little girl. from the gorgeous white gown draped down your figure to the personally hand arranged bouquet of flower that you were gonna carry down the aisle. it was perfect, and so is the fact that you were gonna marry the love of your life. you couldn’t be more excited, scared and nervous. everyone had told you that it’s normal to be nervous, it’s probably the biggest moment in your life and you couldn’t risk it being even slightly ruined. everything had to be perfect, and they actually were. getting ready in the dressing room, you paced around to get your mind off things that you were overthinking about. what if you stumbled and ripped your gown ? what if you puked in the middle of the walk because you were too nervous ? in that moment you just wanted to tell your bridesmaid to go get your fiancé. you knew he could calm you down easily, he always did. little did you know that he was also taking deep breaths to cool himself down in another room.

the sleek black tux hugging farleigh nicely around his torso and his bust. the sleeves, perfectly tailored and not a single inch longer than it should be. he looked dashing, handsome even. but when is it that he doesn’t? stepping onto the venue, his chin tilted upwards, feasting his eyes upon the beautifully decorated hall. a small smile crept itself across his lips. it was just like how you always told him how you would like the place to look like when you get married. farleigh had always kept a mental note on the details, from the choice of flowers standing tall along the aisle, to the soft hue of innocent yellow dimly lighting up the whole place. you always had a vision when it comes to your wedding day, and he would listen to you talk about it, nodding away and even adding his own points on how he wanted his wedding to be. he had immaculate taste too, of course. chirping in to give you suggestions after suggestions just to make sure the vision of his and your wedding day was perfect. he didn’t really care, the only vivid thing he could imagine was the image of you standing in front of him, looking as pretty as always, smiling up at him as he vowed to take you as his lawfully wedded wife. it was innocent how the two of you would dream about this day.

guests were starting to fill up the venue, settling themselves down on their designated seats as few of them were seen chatting up with each other, smiles decorating their faces. both your families were moving around efficiently, making sure that everything was in order for the ceremony to move smoothly, while you waited in the dressing room, carefully adjusting and making sure that your make up and hair were put together flawlessly. “you nervous?” you heard venetia speak, as you turn your head towards her, smiling. your eyes trailed along the beautifully sewn hem of your gown. “of course i am, i would be lying if i said im not” letting out a soft sigh, your eyes glanced towards her. “how’s farleigh ?” you asked her, before she took both your hands in hers, firmly grabbing onto the palms as she cocked her head to the side, beaming at you. “he’ll be alright” she responded, shortly. “you ready ?” to which you nodded, offering her a quick smile.

the walk from the dressing room to the hall felt like forever, as steps after steps burned memories into your head, everything felt so surreal yet too real at the same time. as you carefully line your walk in the heels with the tail of your gown making it a sport, you began to notice familiar faces sitting at the back row, already beaming at you with their hands cupped against their chests. you offered them a warm smile, desperately using it to hide the all new emotions you were currently feeling. you were now already standing at the end of the aisle, in the middle of everyone, as all eyes were set on you. you tried your best to flash the prettiest smile, like you had practiced for only like since forever. farleigh’s eyes immediately set themselves on you, his eyebrows dropped as his dark orbs began to gloss, a small breath got caught in his throat as it seemed like he had forgotten how to breathe. he was getting lightheaded with how similar you looked with the vision he had of you being his bride. just when he thought you couldn’t get anymore beautiful, you began to walk down with the white veil over your head, fresh flowers neatly grasped in your hands. you looked pure, breathtakingly beautiful in white. it was almost like the angels had lent you their beauty for that exact moment, for you to wear as you slowly step towards the altar.

your eyes met farleigh’s, a knowing look being exchanged between the two of you. you almost laughed at how touched he looked, he would be caught dead first before this to even show that he had deep emotions for someone but for you, he didn’t care. anything for you. all the nervousness suddenly disappeared as you carefully step onto the elevated platform at the end of your slow walk, joining your fiancé before facing each other, huge smile plastered across your faces. all of that ruckus and chaos before your wedding day has led to this moment, as you take it all in that it was finally happening.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the love of these two as they come together in marriage.” the officiant started right as the two of you were ready. after exchanging rings, he started his vows first, which almost made you cry but happiness flooded through the feeling.

“…I promise to cherish you always, to honor and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall part us.” as you finish your vow, you could feel your feet starting to perform little jumps of excitement. turning your head towards the officiant, he could see that you were already getting impatient. smiling to himself, he looked over to the crowd before saying the magic words

“By the power vested in me by the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife !” you almost squeak before leaning over to kiss your now husband, gently pressing your lips over his soft ones, your cold fingers cupping his cheeks as a roar of applause filled the hall. the crowd stood up to cheer, bright smiles complimenting the decorations in the hall.

it was exactly like you imagined, except this time it wasn’t farleigh that you were kissing.

as farleigh clapped for the both of you from his seat, he couldn’t help the proud smile pushing itself to form on his lips, as his eyes begin to water. he immediately reached up to wipe them off quickly, yet obvious tint of red could still be seen if one were to examine his face closely. but he wasn’t worried of that happening, because he wasn’t the main subject of today’s ceremony, no. he was just happy to be here, cheering for you and your husband. he would be lying if he didn’t think about how it would be if it was him instead on the altar, kissing you away from all the doubts that he had put you through over the last few years of your relationship. he knew that you and him, the two of you were supposed to be endgame. it was supposed to be him, slipping the ring onto your finger, before kissing over them. he knew all that, yet nothing could win over a fight with his own issues, nothing could beat his own mind in a game called love. he wanted to give up on love long ago but you showed him the bright end of the tunnel, and he will always be grateful for that. for now, he would have to make peace with the fact that you’re no longer his, and he no longer has a place in your heart. it’s not like he doesn’t want all of this, he really does. hell, he had thought about this exact day countless times when you were his, just that he imagined it to be him who will get to say his vows on how he was gonna love you till death do the both of you apart. everything else was pretty much just how he had imagined it to be, especially how beautiful you looked.

the two of you had promised that the relationship had to end with marriage, and that after graduation nothing was gonna change. but promises are meant to broken aren’t they ? he changed, a lot. you did too. farleigh struggled with himself after graduation, with the fact that he didn’t have anything left in the uk, him being done with oxford left him no reason to keep staying with the cattons. he didn’t want to leave, he begged for sir james to keep letting him stay, saying that he would do anything with the best he had, building a career over the estates in saltburn, anything. anything just for him to able to stay here, with you. he was afraid that if he left, everything will be different and he’d lose you. so he worked, really hard. struggling to make his own money to put them into his own little apartment. little did he know, he lost himself in the process, along with what he had with you. warm embraces and chuckles after laughters turned into hurtful arguments. your usual warm spot on his bed turned cold, as your dent on his mattress slowly disappeared. it’s not like you didn’t fight for him, you truly did. but you realised that what the two of you had, was only nice while it lasted. and you struggled to make peace with that, but not as much as he was. you were everything to him, and losing you just meant losing himself.

when you told him that you were getting married, he looked really happy, as he pulled you in a tight hug. it felt safe, and you could feel that he was genuinely happy for you. you’re glad that after all, you were still able to be close with him, only now as friends. he was happy to receive the wedding invitation, having set it up on his empty kitchen table so he wouldn’t miss it for the world. he still loved you, so much as he wouldn’t want to miss watching you on your happiest day, even if it wasn’t because of him. even if it wasn’t with him. seeing you happy was enough for him. knowing that you were happy, he forced himself to accept that fate couldn’t be rewritten. how he wished it is, because then he would get to write your name in his stars again and again, and again. as many times as he could as long as in the end, you’d end up in his arms.

as the getaway car began to roll its wheels, he looked at you flashing the prettiest smile ever, waving at him. he returned the smile, masking in the reasoned melancholy down his chest. the car started to drive away slowly before his smile slowly pressed itself away against his lips. it has now turned to a smile knowing that he once had you, and he would forever cherish that. the crowd began to dissipate, some gradually walking away to leave, some getting back inside to continue their chats, some even talking about how gorgeous of a wedding it was, and that they were happy for you and your husband. farleigh stepped down the stairs to a gravely ground, his leather shoes digging into the coarse pebbles as he leaned back onto the stone post at the end of the stairs, his hand reaching into the pocket of his slacks. noticing someone approaching his spot, he glanced to the person to see felix, his hands tucked into his pockets before he reached out, asking for a stick from farleigh. he lit the cigarette in his fingers before reaching over, cupping his hand over the flame to lit felix’s.

puffing his first drag, farleigh chuckled at felix at the situation. “how you holding up ?” he heard felix ask, his light brown hair flipping over as the soft wind grazed their skin. farleigh tilted his head down, quietly playing with the pebbles with the tip of his shoes with a burning cigarette dancing between his fingers. “i’m gonna be okay” nodding, he assured felix. “that’s good” he chirped back, he knew how bad farleigh was hurting, but he also knew that his cousin would be caught dead first before showing deep emotions to anyone. felix were also sure that the two of you were really gonna end up together. it was only right to him. he wasn’t sure about what happened, but he could feel how bad the pain was violently ripping farleigh apart. he could only pray that it gets easier, as he didn’t want to lose him too.

“i know you loved her mate” felix started

“i still do” farleigh responded, his head hanging low

“-just differently now”

shaking the burned bits of the cigarette from his fingers, ashes falling down onto the ground as they both sat in silence, quietly enjoying the gentle breeze of the wind, blowing away all of farleigh’s hope for you.

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