#instead of that disappointing shade of blue

[ennaih]

Every Film I Watch In 2023:

191. The Phantom Of The Opera (1943)

bonus Hume Cronyn!

[fumiliar]

self-restraint is one thing kento prides on. he is a good man, or at least he tries to be. his eyes landed on your flailing figure, pinching his nose bridge to prepare himself. you, gojo, kento and shoko went out for drinks to celebrate the fact you 4 were still alive.

your mind was blank, you had no self-control, it was like the shame centre in your brain got turned off.

"oh my god!" you squealed in excitement. "my favourite song!" you stumbled off your bar stool, going to stand up on the table, gojo supporting your brave act.

kento acted quick. right when your foot landed on the table, you were pulled back by an immeasurable amount of strength, your back landing on someone's muscular chest.

"how drunk are you?" a gruff voice spoke right beside your ear, sending shivers through your whole body. your senses were already heightened, but at this moment, you could feel everything. you could hear the fastening rhythm of your heart, along with the steady rhythm of another's.

"earth to y/n~," satoru's singsong voice echoed through your empty head.

"yea, sorry," you shook your head, turning around to see kento's disapproving look. his hand keeping a deathly grip on your wrist, ensuring you were always close to him, in case you'd do something embarrassing, or at least that's what he tells himself.

"y/n, i'll bring you ho-"

"don'tt, you're such a party pooper nanamin! we were just getting started," the blue eyed man whined, he looked like he was about to start a tantrum.

"yeah, let's just wrap it up, i wanna go home," shoko agreed with kento, getting ready to leave. "i'll leave y/n to you, gojo, come." satoru following shoko like a sad puppy.

"let's go home," kento used his free hand to pack up your stuff, double checking if you took anything out of your purse.

"you're so hot when you take care of me," you freely complimented kento, his ears slowly turning beet red.

"i like you kento, you know that right?" you kept talking, kento's face slowly turning a darker shade of red. "why are you so red? are you having a fever?" you used your free hand to feel his forehead, even in your drunken state, you still worried about his health.

"no...y/n. i'm fine," he put your bag on your shoulder as he led you out of the establishment.

"ow....my feet hurt ken," you pouted looking down at your heels.

restrain yourself kento. restrain. was the only thing he could think off as he looked back at you. he didn't want to take advantage of your drunken self. he knelt down as he took of your heels, you bracing yourself on his back. he slowly took your hand of his back, putting down your heels on the ground to take off his blazer.

"up," his back facing you as he knelt down. you weren't going to waste a chance getting piggy backed. instantly, your arms slid around his neck as your legs trapped his torso. kento stood up, picking up your heels and adjusting his hold on you.

"comfy?" you nodded against his neck. "take this, and wrap it around your waist," he handed you his blazer. you instantly listened, wrapping the blazer around your waist, making sure you don't flash anyone along your way home.

"ken, you're so good to me," you mumbled, nibbling on his neck, eliciting a groan out of the man.

"you're such a tease," kento chuckled, smiling to himself at his current predicament.

"we're not even dating....hft," you sighed. kento let out a hearty laugh at your dissatisfaction.

"why do you want us to date?" kento asked making you even more disappointed.

"what woman doesn't want stability!" this time you were annoyed. you straightening your back, not leaning on kento's anymore. kento was still joyful, instead of responding to your annoyance, he loosened his grip on your legs, your instincts kicked in, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck once more to ensure your safety.

"were you about to drop me??" panic was evident in your tone, but kento was still amused. "answer me!" your hand hitting on his chest.

"y/n," kento sternly called out your name, abruptly stopping your abuse on his chest. "we're married love, isn't that the epitome of stability? why would i regress our relationship to just boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"huh?..." you were confused for a second, quickly looking at your hand. and there it was, glistening in the moonlight, your wedding ring. "oh.."

kento couldn't help but tease your drunken self, his self-restraint always wavering when it came to you. the prim and proper man turning playful in your presence, he just couldn't help it. he continued his walk home, occasionally giggling at your forgetful nature.

"i hope you don't forget this moment," kento muttered under his breath, knowing full well you would have no memory of this event, only a pounding headache to remind you of yesterday's events.

[psychoticfemmm]

waves and whispers

pairing: Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and violet. The salty breeze swept through your hair as you walked barefoot along the shore, the cool water lapping gently at your feet. The beach was quiet, save for the rhythm of the waves and the distant cry of seagulls. It felt like you had the whole world to yourself.

Well, almost.

You could feel Rafe’s presence beside you—warm, familiar, and undeniably close. He had been quiet for a while now, just walking at your pace, hands stuffed into his pockets as he stole glances your way when he thought you weren’t looking.

“What?” you asked, laughing softly, catching him in the act.

Rafe grinned, the kind of smile that made your stomach do flips. “Nothing,” he teased, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

“Uh-huh. Sure,” you replied, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. The two of you had spent the entire day together—swimming, joking around, and lounging under the sun. But now, as the day faded into night, something about the air felt different. Charged.

“Come here,” Rafe suddenly said, his voice quieter now.

Before you could question him, he took your hand gently in his, pulling you just a little closer. The world around you seemed to blur—the golden sky, the whispering waves, the fading sun—and all you could focus on was him. His blue eyes held you there, soft yet intense, like he was trying to memorize every detail about you.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your heart racing.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, his hand came up to brush a loose strand of hair from your face, his fingers grazing your skin and sending chills down your spine. You felt the heat of him, so close now, and your breath hitched as his gaze dropped to your lips.

“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he murmured, so low you barely caught it.

And then he kissed you.

It was soft at first, his lips capturing yours gently, like he was savoring the moment. But as you leaned into him, your arms wrapping around his neck, the kiss deepened. Rafe’s hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him as the waves crashed softly at your feet. The whole world melted away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, fleeting moment.

“What the hell?!”

The voice cut through the moment like a knife, and you froze, pulling back from Rafe with wide eyes. You knew that voice.

JJ.

Your older brother stood a few yards away, his expression a mixture of disbelief, anger, and… yeah, mostly anger. His blonde hair was windblown, his hands clenched into fists as he took a step forward.

“JJ—” you started, your cheeks burning.

JJ pointed a finger at Rafe, his eyes narrowing into a glare. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Him? You’re kissing Rafe Cameron?”

Rafe tensed beside you, his jaw clenching. “Back off, Maybank,” he muttered, trying to stay calm, but you could feel the tension radiating from him.

JJ let out a bitter laugh, completely ignoring Rafe’s words. “Oh, I’m sorry—am I interrupting your little romantic moment?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, but his eyes were locked on you now, disappointment flashing through them. “What are you doing with him? Of all people, Y/N?”

“JJ, it’s not what it looks like,” you stammered, though even you knew how ridiculous that sounded. It was exactly what it looked like.

JJ scoffed, shaking his head. “Not what it looks like? I just saw you two practically swallowing each other’s faces!”

You groaned, embarrassed beyond belief. Rafe, however, stepped forward, his voice steady but low. “You don’t need to talk to her like that, Maybank.”

JJ turned his glare on Rafe, squaring his shoulders. “And you don’t need to be anywhere near her.”

“JJ, stop!” you said sharply, stepping between the two of them before things could escalate. “You don’t get to decide who I spend my time with.”

JJ’s expression faltered just slightly, his anger giving way to something softer—protectiveness. “I’m your brother, Y/N. It’s my job to look out for you. And this guy?” He shot another glare at Rafe. “He’s bad news.”

Rafe let out a humorless laugh behind you. “Classic.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, giving him a warning look before turning back to your brother. “You don’t have to like him, JJ, but you do have to trust me.”

JJ stared at you for a long moment, torn between his instincts and his trust in you. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t like this. At all. But fine. I trust you. Not him.”

He shot one last glare at Rafe before turning on his heel. “You’re lucky she’s here to stop me,” he muttered as he walked off down the beach.

The tension hung heavy in the air as JJ’s figure disappeared in the distance, leaving just you and Rafe once more. You let out a shaky breath, turning to face him.

“Well,” you said, trying to lighten the mood, “that went great.”

Rafe smirked, shaking his head as he tucked his hands back into his pockets. “You really think that’s the worst reaction I’ll get? I’m just getting started with the Maybank family drama, aren’t I?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “You have no idea.”

Rafe grinned, pulling you close again. “Worth it,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

And somehow, despite the chaos that had just unfolded, you couldn’t help but agree.

[sun-kissy]

crystals | r.b.

regulus black x whimsical!reader

“Baby,” Regulus’ voice comes out two parts affection and one part exasperation as he feels your knees pressing down into the bed on either side of him. You hum distractedly in response, mind wandering to places he knows he can never follow.

He cracks his eyes open, a small smile involuntarily making its way onto his face at the sight of you. You’re as pretty as you always are, so pretty he wonders if you’re actually a dryad of some sort. You certainly look the part, with daisies braided into your hair and miniature toadstool earrings.

He watches as you outstretch your fingers to fiddle with the chain on his neck, your eyebrows bunched in concentration. Your tongue juts out of your lip adorably as you bite down on it, and he resists the urge to kiss you senseless.

The chain Regulus was wearing was nothing more than a thick black string, but it was knotted around various small crystals, courtesy of your hobby of collecting them. When he had first asked you out with a ring, you had shyly given him this string with a single crystal hanging from it – a rose quartz. “For my unconditional love,” you had mumbled, blushing so hard he thought you mirrored a rose. But the pink that coated your cheeks was a lovelier shade than any flower he had laid his eyes on.

From then on, you would knot new crystals onto the string whenever you found them. Regulus was pretty sure some of them had to have been rocks or pebbles, but he loved you too much not to indulge you.

“Mon chéri,” he tries again, amusement seeping into his tone. “It’s 5 in the morning.”

“So?” you ask distractedly, your fingers still tugging and pulling his necklace from side to side. “5AM is when the crystals are most active, you know. This is when they pull the most power from the core of the earth,” you explain matter-of-factly, so dedicated to your task that you don’t notice his smile widening.

You sway forward slightly, unable to balance on the balls of your knees. Regulus silently wraps his palms around your hips, tugging downward until you’re comfortably seated on his stomach.

That was when he noticed you had odd-shaped stones in one of your hands, sunlight reflecting off of them to give a pale blue glow. “What are those?”

You perk up at his question, abandoning your task of trying to tie the stones onto the string. Your head tilts upwards to give him a sunny smile. “They’re aquamarine crystals, obviously.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his smile softening. It doesn’t matter how many times you do this, it’s always just as endearing to him. The way you smile fondly at him – like he’s silly for not knowing.

“Yeah,” you beam. “I found these in the stream nearby, the one next to the big daisy field with all the horsies.”

“You walked into the water again, then?”

It’s too laden with fondness to sound accusatory, but you turn slightly sheepish anyway, nodding. Your hands find their way back to his necklace, and this time you manage to loop the string around a crystal successfully. Your face lights up, obviously pleased with your work.

He huffs out a laugh, leaning forward to run his hands down your long skirt. As expected, he finds it damp and sticky. “You’ll have to take a bath, mon amour.”

“In the stream?”

“No,” he mutters, trying but failing to conceal his amused grin. He presses his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself upwards to press an amorous kiss to your forehead. He can’t help himself, the blush on your cheeks and the shy smile too much for his heart to handle. “In the shower, baby.”

“Oh,” you reply as a way of answer, and Regulus can’t help but chuckle at the slight disappointment in your voice. “Maybe I can shower in the water tomorrow, then? With all the ducks. These ducks are nice; they eat the bread I throw at them. You can come too if you’d like.”

“Maybe,” he replies indulgently, with absolutely no intention of letting you bathe with the ducks instead of with him — but he was never one to deny you anything you asked for.

[decay-1]

GIGGLES i fear i've fallen under the james sunderland curse how did this happen... sighs wistfully. you ever see a guy and just want to pet and brush back some of his hair out of his eyes? i think he might just melt if his s/o did that without much warning. the casual physical affection... <3

Hi its like 3am but time is a construct so here u go babe

Words: 867

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James’ lips moved as he spoke—probably about work, or maybe something to do with your shared house—but you wouldn’t know. You’d been too focused on admiring his handsome features, the ones you’d never get tired of, to really hear a word he was saying. His words were coming in one ear and going straight out the other, drowned out by the quiet joy of just… looking at him.

You’d always found it amusing how much he talked with his hands. Each gesture made a smile tug at your lips, just one more thing about him you adored. How he hadn’t noticed you weren’t paying attention by now was a mystery, but you weren’t complaining. It just gave you more time to daydream about him, something you still loved doing even after all these years together. Every day with him brought a new spark of excitement, no matter how long you’d been by his side.

Your gaze drifted over his nose, and you found yourself remembering how you’d trace its outline at night, lulling him to sleep with gentle fingers. Then, your eyes dropped to his lips—soft, but just a bit flaky from the cold. They had a taste you were sure you’d never find in anyone else. You let your gaze trace the line of his jaw, the one you’d grab out of nowhere sometimes just to pull him in for a short, sweet kiss, leaving him flustered and stammering as he was caught off guard every time.

But then, your attention fell on his eyes.

Oh, his eyes. You’d never get over them.

That pale shade of blue could send your heart racing with a single look, a blue so deep it reminded you of the ocean, the ones you fell in love with all those years ago. Every time his eyes locked with yours, it brought you back to the day you met, and to the moment you knew you were in love. You could feel electricity shoot through your veins, your heart beating faster, skipping like it might just burst from all the affection.

Without realizing it, you grinned with a love-sick expression, your eyes half-lidded as you rested your chin on your hand. You nodded absently at whatever James was saying, even though you hadn’t heard a word in the last few minutes.

Then, your gaze wandered to the blond streaks in his hair, soft strands that always seemed to fall into his face and cover those beautiful eyes you adored so much. It was then that James finally seemed to realize you weren’t paying attention. He raised an eyebrow and pressed his lips together, giving you a look of mock-disappointment. His mouth moved again, probably calling you out for zoning out.

But you still didn’t hear him.

Instead, you frowned a little and tilted your head, watching as more of those golden strands fell into his face. Without thinking, you reached up toward him. James followed the movement of your hand with his eyes, looking a little confused but not objecting. He never did.

Gently, you brushed the soft strands out of his eyes, smiling to yourself. But even as you did, you didn’t move your hand right away. You just stayed there for a moment, gazing into his eyes now that nothing was in the way, taking in his face with a small, contented smile.

“There,” you breathed, barely above a whisper. Your nose almost touched his as your hand dropped back to your lap.

James’ eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as the blush started to creep up his neck. He blinked a few times, trying to process what just happened. The warmth of your touch lingered on his forehead, sending little shocks of electricity through him, and before he knew it, his entire face was burning. It was such a simple gesture, but from you? It was enough to completely short-circuit his brain.

He stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind scrambling to come up with something to say. “W-What… what was that for?” he stammered after a few failed attempts, his voice a little shaky.

But you didn’t answer, still lost in the warmth of the moment.

Flustered, he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, but all it did was make more hair fall into his face. You burst into laughter, your protest coming out between giggles, “Hey!”

He snorted at your reaction, shaking his head with a soft chuckle of his own. He couldn’t help it—he loved that laugh of yours. He looked back at you, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other, grinning like fools, your eyes filled with the kind of love that never really fades. The kind that only grows stronger.

Sure, James would probably ruin the moment by saying something awkwardly cheesy in the next few seconds—that was just part of who he was—but that was another thing you loved about him. For now, you were happy to sit in the quiet comfort of his presence, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you both.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Ethan is trying to do work and the reader distracts him which turns into more. Just Ethan being flustered and trying to focus while reader teases him. 🤗

I've done a version of this with Mindy

Warnings: nudity, teasing

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Did you see my green highlighter?’’

‘’No. I have a blue one, here.’’ You fished it from your pencil case, but Ethan didn’t take it.

‘’I can’t use blue.’’

‘’I have pink, yellow and orange if you prefer—’’

‘’No. That’s not what I meant. I have a color code. Green is for the things I understand, blue is for what I don’t understand and the glittery gel pen is for underlining things that I think are gonna be in the exams.’’

Fondness filled your stomach. He was so precious and nerdy at the same time. You reached across the bed to grab the collar of Ethan's henley and kissed him sweetly.

‘’Eh…what was that for?’’ Ethan asked, a little dumbfounded. ‘’I love your kisses, it’s just that we really need to study—’’

‘’You are such a nerd.’’ You kissed him again, lingering your lips on his. ‘’But I love you.’’

Ethan’s cheeks flushed the cutest shade of pink. ‘’I love you too.’’

You went back to studying, reading pages of textbooks until your eyes burned. Why was there so much to read in econ? Maybe you should switch majors?

‘’Have you read the chapter about taxation?’’ Ethan asked, a pen in one hand and a highlighter in the other. ‘’My mind is literally going to explode from the amount of information.’’ His eyes were fixated on his textbook, concentrated on what he was reading.

A breath of air left your lips. ‘’I have not. Sorry.’’ You ran a hand through your hair, flicking through pages with your other. ‘’I’m like…two chapters behind.’’

Ethan snapped his head up. ‘’Two?! What have you been doing all this time? Mrs. Coleman is gonna question us about these chapters next lesson.’’

He was right, but you had been studying for over three hours and nothing was sticking to your brain anymore. Your learning batteries were full for today. Maybe you’ll bring your textbook to your shift at the campus library tomorrow. Thursday afternoons are always quiet.

Before you, Ethan had returned to his reading, pen cap between his teeth while he was underlining long paragraphs. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so serious during study dates. School was important, but it doesn’t mean you can’t take a few makeout breaks.

You tried getting back to reading, but the words were not sticking. So you threw a paperclip at Ethan. It hit his chest and you grinned amusedly.

‘’Hey! Stop throwing shit at me,’’ he scolded, throwing it back at you.

‘’Let’s take a break.’’

Ethan shook his head. ‘’Can’t. I have another chapter to read and then I’m meeting with a study group.’’ He checked the time on his phone, making sure he wouldn’t be late.

A study group? You thought you were going out for late dinner at the café right outside campus. They have this new breakfast all day menu and you couldn’t wait to have waffles for dinner.

You pouted in disappointment. Guess there won’t be any waffles tonight…

‘’Can we at least cuddle before you go?’’ you asked, impatient to wrap your whole body around Ethan like a koala and kiss his face while he holds you back with his strong arms.

Your question was left pending and you were tempted to chuck a pillow at the curly haired nerd before you — but you didn’t. Instead, you took advantage of focused attention and removed your shirt and bra without him noticing. You felt a shiver up your spine when the cool air of Ethan's dorm hit your warm skin, causing your nipples to peak.

Ethan was addicted to your tits. Maybe he’ll put down his textbooks for a few minutes.

‘’This part is really important. Do you think we should make flashca—’’ Ethan cut himself and you heard him make a little noise, his bambi eyes falling on your breasts exposed right before him. The pen he was holding fell from his grasp and you smirked.

You felt the weight of Ethan’s eyes on you, all the information he just read suddenly swept away. ‘’What is it you were saying?’’ You let your hand crawl up his jeans-covered thighs and a swallow bobbed its way over his adam's apple when you almost reached his crotch. ‘’Cat’s got your tongue, love?’’

Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but your hand was getting higher and higher. A whimper slipped from his lip when you reached your desired spot, feeling him growing stiff beneath your palm. It’s so good to tease him.

He reached for your breasts, his palms enclosed over them, kneading into them as his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store.

You sighed in pleasure, grazing your fingers along Ethan’s jaw. ‘’How many chapter do you have left again?’’ 

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz

[coeurify]

actually on my knees begging for a girl next door blurb with Ellie

like imagine moving into the house next to her’s and her being all grumbly and closed off because she cannot physically face the reader because she’s just a loser lesbian and OMG THE UNKNOWN PINING SUJDJSNSNDB

I NEED HER I CANT-

WHERE IS THE LOVE FOR LOSER GND!ELLIE ⁉️

giggles.. cause like.. yea.

if we r talking modern!ellie, oh god would it be the most cliche shit ever (plz tell me if u want jackson!ellie version cause i’d be happy to do that too. or jus more of this concept) [not edited]

⋆˚✿˖° im talking, ellie looking out from her window in her old house, eyes narrowing as a moving truck pulled into the pretty blue house next door. the neighborhood had been recently taken over by young families, which ellie hated— cause why was she being interrupted in her ‘laying in her bed while blasting music and complaining to herself’ alone time by a bunch of kids screaming outside? either way. she expected another one of these cases.

⋆˚✿˖° but then you popped out, trying to handle three boxes all on your own, cheek pressed against the cardboard as you yelled something ellie couldn’t hear to whoever else was in moving truck. you had glanced over at ellie’s house, maybe even up at her window. and maybe ellie was just dramatic, but she flipped away from that window and face down onto her bed so quickly she was pretty sure it was a new record. because fuck you were pretty.

⋆˚✿˖° and it only got worse later, when el was pulling her hair down from its bun, glancing the sun pressing below the clouds. her fingers moved to close the curtains of her window, and there you were, standing at the window directly across from hers. like— shit straight from a taylor swift music video or something.

⋆˚✿˖° and you, almost as awkward as her, let your hands fall down from their place above your head. you had been putting up shades, but once you caught the gaze of your messy haired neighbor, you smiled at her. fuck, you smiled and waved and ellie just turned away and shut her curtains. you know, like the master at social interactions she was.

⋆˚✿˖° a twin frown painted both your lips at the interaction that night, and at the same time you both huffed out, “god, why’d i do that?”

⋆˚✿˖° nothing really got better from there. not when your family forced you over to ellie’s house with a plate of cookies, your sweet smile the first sight ellie had seen that day as she turned the doorknob to shoo away some girl scout selling something. “we don’t need— oh— oh hi.”

⋆˚✿˖° you looked so fucking pretty. ellie was sure it was fake. maybe she was still in bed dreaming. maybe this was about to turn into one of those really weird s- never mind. you were talking now, and not asking to borrow sugar, so definitely real. “hi! uh— I just, we— i mean, my family, we just wanted to introduce ourselves. and give a gift i guess,” you glance to the plate of wrapped up treats and chuckle lightly. because really, cookies?

⋆˚✿˖° ellie was about red as the shirt she was wearing, stammering a thank you as joel creeped behind her at the door. “you the new neighbors kid?” joel had asked, making ellie clam right up. she backed away from the door, like— just side shuffled out of your view with an awkward wave.

⋆˚✿˖° your eyes followed her, fighting back the odd sense of disappointment that you were no longer staring at the freckled and flushed face of your new neighbor. “uh, yea—yes sir.” you eventually spoke again, offering your grin to joel instead.

⋆˚✿˖° one time joel was doing yard work the same time your family was outside working on the garden. you were fanning your sweating cheek with your hand, the warmth from the sun along with carrying in and out heavy tools was not exactly ideal, and you only felt more heated when ellie came outside the door at the exact moment joel ended up making conversation with your mother.

⋆˚✿˖° “your girl in college?” you could hear him ask, but it was lightly muffled, your attention instead on watching as ellie struggled to bend over and tie her converse against the wall. what an odd way to do it. she was balancing some sort of notebook between arm.. maybe pencils too? did she draw? or maybe write? why couldn’t you stop wondering about it?

⋆˚✿˖° your mom answered joel’s question with some version of the story she always does, gushing about how you were doing so well in school, how she was so proud of you. you didn’t tune back in until joel was speaking again, “ah yea, my — well, ellie, she’s in school too. physics major. but she’s got this thing for astronomy too. kid’s always talking about double majoring.”

⋆˚✿˖° god, she was cute and smart? and her name was ellie? you swore the sun got even hotter at the thought of her talking to you about quantum something-or-other, just nodding along. god you could see it now. a hand in that pretty auburn hair.. mumbling ‘mhm.. whatever you say ellie.’

⋆˚✿˖° then you saw her trip down the stairs on her porch as she looked over. full on hand on the side of the stairs to keep her from eating shit on the rocks there. you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, stifling a giggle as you wave her way. only to be given a tight lipped smile as she quickly moved away to her car. god. what an odd girl.

⋆˚✿˖° ellie simply lost it the moment she sat in her car, groaning loudly as she slammed her sketch book on her face. “stupid fucking shoes!” she muttered, as if it was the shoes fault for tripping, and not the way she had been intently staring at your face from across the yard. definitely not.

⋆˚✿˖° but really she couldn’t help it, you looked so good, you were wearing shorts, and ellie was happily taking in the sight of skin before that evil fucking creaky porch board got her tumbling down. fuck. she couldn’t ever talk to you again. not ever. she let her head fall to the steering wheel as she went through a million and one ways to simply become invisible and escape any way of running into you. maybe she should become nocturnal.

⋆˚✿˖° but when she let her head fall to the steering wheel, it honked. like a loud, drawn out honk that had you, joel, and your mother’s head turning to the direction of the sound.

⋆˚✿˖° ellie screeched, and you pressed fingers to your lips to contain another smile. you were pretty sure living here was going to be kind of great.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (2)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: kissing, angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, bullying, chauvinism, mention of injury ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She had always felt that she lacked something – mostly when she looked in the mirror and saw instead of beautiful white hair her dark curls falling over her shoulders, which she hated with all her heart. Her eyes also had no shade of the gods, no shade of the Targaryens − her brothers laughed that her facial expressions made her look like a hamster.

She once tried, in an act of desperation, to cut her hair completely, hoping that what would grow back would be in a different shade; fortunately one of her mother's servants who brought her afternoon meal snatched the scissors out of her hand, horrified, and told her mother all about it.

That evening the future queen explained to her that there was also a Baratheon line running in Targaryen blood through her grandparents, that her cousin, Princess Rhaenys, also had dark hair.

This explanation reassured her a little, but she still felt that the gods had deprived them of something, robbing them of the looks that would prove who they were.

Fortunately, they had dragons.

Her dragoness, Larax, had beautiful silver-blue scales and shimmered wonderfully in the sunlight. She was still small and was just learning to breathe fire on command, but she was doing well and was her pride.

She visited her when she sought comfort.

She watched from the sidelines the only person among them who did not have a dragon of his own, namely her uncle, Aemond, only two years older than her. She could see that although he kept up appearances under a stony face, his suffering and disappointment was far greater than hers caused by the colour of her hair.

A Targaryen with a dragon was still a Targaryen.

But what was a Targaryen without it?

When Jace bragged to her about what they had done together with Aegon and Luke, that they had given him a pig with a wings as a joke, she said they were cruel.

She couldn't believe they thought it was funny.

At first she just wanted to see how he was doing, so knowing that he spent his days alone among the books she decided to visit him.

However, it turned out that his aloof nature was due to his caution and insecurity, his readiness to defend himself, although she had never intended to attack him. When he realised that her presence had no undertone he relaxed, even allowing her to exchange opinions with himself.

"I would like to be like Rhaenys in the future." She said softly, thinking dreamily that she was described as a woman of beauty, wisdom and dignity, able to solve many things with her shrewdness, wits, care and compassion.

She heard him snort under his breath, looking at her in disbelief, as if she had said something silly.

"Rhaenys? What's interesting about her? Visenya could fight with a sword and she rode the largest dragon still alive in this world. If I had a choice, I would marry her." He said lowly, as usual pretending to be older than he was. There was pathos in his posture and in his voice – he sat upright, comfortably sprawled in his chair, creating a semblance of confidence.

She raised an eyebrow at his words, unable to hide a smile of amusement. She saw the expression of displeasure on his face, as he clearly thought she was mocking him.

"Aegon the Conqueror thought otherwise. Out of ten nights, nine he spent with Rhaenys." She said with a wince and saw that he pressed his lips together, rolling his eyes, impatient with her remark, and shrugged his shoulders, returning to his reading.

She was really fond of him.

As a very young girl, she had given a lot of her thoughts to her future husband, knowing that as the daughter of a princess she would have her tasks, one of which would be to strengthen their lineage through marriage.

The thought that she would have to marry some boring old man by whose side she would die of despair, and with whom she would have to have many children, kept her awake at night; she wished her husband was someone closer to her in age, someone who shared her values and passions.

She wondered if it wouldn't have been better if her parents had married her to Jace − she knew him and, as his sister, loved him, so it would certainly have been easier − but on the other hand, something rejected her at the thought, she felt some kind of discomfort when she imagined their future children.

This was what she was contemplating when her mother walked into her chamber, wanting to ask her her opinion on the King's decision.

She and Aemond were betrothed.

"You may refuse, my love." Said Rhaenyra, kneeling beside her on the stone floor, taking her hands in her own, fearing apparently that this information would frighten her.

For some reason, however, she was pleased.

Although she did not have beautiful white hair, her future husband did.

She ran out of her chamber, rushing into the library like a storm, the pale face of her uncle expressing shock and fear as she approached him.

"Is it true?" She asked in a trembling voice and saw that he swallowed hard as he nodded, looking at her with wide open eyes.

She covered her face with her hand, a happy giggle escaping from her lips, her heart pounding like mad.

"I'm so happy."

To her relief, it looked as if her uncle himself had no great objections to the king's decision. He began to speak to her more, introducing her to his world, even explaining what he did during his trainings, apparently recognising that as his wife she should know what his life consisted of.

She absorbed everything he said, feeling her heart flutter with joy when he was by her side.

Though she knew it was unacceptable, she dared to ask him to let her kiss him, and after he experienced the taste of her lips, he wanted her to do it more often, though he never said it out loud.

Their kisses were innocent, short, warm and wet, on the forehead, cheek or lips. Every time she pulled away from him he smiled lazily, embarrassed – she knew he liked the feeling.

They both felt so mature then.

At his request she snuck into his chamber at night − they would lie then for hours holding hands, discussing about their future, about their children.

"When I become a rider of one of the dragons living in the caves beyond the sea, we will fly to Essos, to see the temples of Old Valyria." He said with confidence and calmness, stroking her hair in a soft, slow motion that her eyelids closed from; she loved it when he did that.

He had never tried to touch her naked body, put his hand under her nightgown or do anything else that Aegon had proudly told her about, but which she did not comprehend.

She furrowed her brow at his words, worried.

"Dragons in caves?" She asked quietly, and he nodded, swallowing loudly; she knew this topic was incredibly important to him, and he hoped to gain her support on the matter.

"Yes. Once I have a dragon, everything will be as it was meant to be. We will marry in the tradition of Old Valyria, beget our heirs, and then explore the world." He said with assurance, as if he had already planned and thought it all out carefully.

She felt warm in her heart at the thought that he had included her in everything about his life, that he saw her at his side as his companion and wife.

And then it happened.

Laena's death, her funeral and the great tragedy that followed.

That night she was roused from her sleep by the shouting of guards running down the corridor – she heard their words that the prince was injured, that he needed to be taken to the maester immediately, that there had been a fight.

With a pounding heart she put on her robe over her nightgown and ran after them semi-conscious, relieved to see her brothers, all bruised but without any wounds.

She then looked at the chair and screamed, covering her mouth, wanting to somehow silence how loud the sound was − she felt someone embrace her, her mother pulled her close, stroking her head.

"He called us bastards, mother, and he stole Vhagar!" Luke whined.

Alicent shouted to Viserys that she demanded justice for her son, but the King shook his head, looking at her uncle.

His wound was all swollen and red, a scar running across his entire left cheek, his gaze directed straight at her, dulled surely by the poppy milk to ease his pain after his eye had been taken out.

She was unable to say anything, her whole body was shaking.

"Who told you such a disgusting lie?" The King asked him, and only then did he look away from her, staring at him; she could see that he hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting.

"Aegon."

Her mother wouldn't let her approach him despite her despair − she lied that she would be able to speak to him later, but it never happened.

They never spoke a word to each other again.

She wrote to him a letter in desperation, crying over it, having to pause several times, not knowing how she would convey to him what she was feeling, her childish mind unable to properly put into words what she was experiencing.

My dearest Prince,

know that my heart is torn by despair and disbelief. I pray for you and your health every day. I hope that as soon as you feel better we can meet. I am sending you books that I thought might interest you.

Your Rhaenys

She wrote this, not comprehending that the last thing on his mind now that he had lost his eye was to read, that he had torn up her letter as soon as he had read it, a lack of response from him made her feel even worse.

She felt he was blaming her and didn't know what to do, how to apologise to him so he would forgive her.

It turned out that there was no way she could do this, and the letters she sent to him in the months that followed were not met with a response.

The guards, on his mother's orders, would not allow anyone from their family to enter his chamber, guarded by Criston Cole himself, who, looking at her indifferently, informed her each time that the prince was unwell, needed to rest and would not receive visitors.

In addition to what had happened, she was heartbroken by what Luke had found out, what Jace had known for months, and what had been shouted in their faces that night.

They were bastards.

She felt even more defiant than ever before.

She had felt little when they moved to Dragonstone, when her mother had married her uncle, whom she had clearly loved forever, when Baela and Rhaena had joined their family.

They were sweet, kind and wise, taking her on long walks among the seaside cliffs, however, she was unable to bond with them.

Although officially their betrothal was never called off, it was clear that the King's resolve was no longer in force, the Queen suggested that any of Lord Baratheon's daughters would be a better candidate for her son, and this marriage would strengthen the royal army.

Instead, her mother thought that she, on the other hand, should marry one of her cousins of House Arryn, to secure their influence in the North and seal Eyrie's support for her cause once she was to become queen.

She was unable to find herself in this new reality, experiencing fulfilment and joy only during her solitary flights on her Larax, over the sea and high between the clouds.

To her surprise, her greatest support in her suffering turned out to be Daemon.

He saw her silent agony, he saw her emptiness, he saw her grief and he was able to reason with her, unlike her mother.

His mischievous, mocking nature reminded her in some ways of her uncle – as they walked for hours along the shore without any purpose and conversed, she felt she had regained at least part of her old life.

She liked him because he didn't treat her like a child, because he spoke to her about serious matters and didn't hide anything from her.

"Viserys is weak. He always has been. Your mother is making his mistakes, trying to hide Jace and Luke under her dress. She's trying to protect them from the inevitable." He said more to himself than to her, walking at her side with his hands entwined behind his back, looking off into the distance, his eyebrows arched in disapproval as they always did when he was frustrated.

She sighed heavily, agreeing with him in spirit, knowing what he meant.

Her mother was trying to protect them at all costs, her beloved boys, though the tension between Dragonstone and the Red Keep was greater than ever.

Something hung in the air and everyone felt it.

"And that bastard, that fucking traitor Hightower sits on the Iron Throne in his name and rules the kingdom, just as he always dreamed of doing." He hissed through clenched teeth, rage and disappointment beating from him, from which she felt her heart squeeze.

It shocked her how direct he was.

He was like a living, burning fire.

"When there's no cat, the mice scamper. Or maybe a better term would be rats." She said dryly, and he laughed out loud, glancing at her, his lips curving into a grin, a kind of contentment and pride in his eyes.

"You're like quiet water on the outside, but there's a great storm brewing inside you. I have heard that your would-be husband has become a fearsome warrior despite the lack of one eye. I fear that once you meet, heaven and earth will shake." He said with amusement and she swallowed loudly at his words, knowing he was mocking her.

"I have no grudge against him. Only he can have one towards me." She said lowly, pressing her lips together, feeling a tightness in her throat, thinking about how she had cried enough nights because of this event.

She felt him looking at her intently, a light summer breeze and the sound of the sea all around them, grey, gloomy clouds above them.

"You still haven't come to terms with it." He stated more than asked, and she swallowed loudly, feeling tears under her eyelids, shaking her head, unable to get anything else out.

"Sometimes it's better to rip your heart out than to let yourself be humiliated, to lose your dignity. Do you understand?" He asked, stopping, looking at her expectantly, with a kind of determination from which she felt discomfort in her stomach.

She stared at him with wide eyes, trying to behave as she should, trying not to break, but she burst into sobs as he pulled her close and embraced her, letting her pour out the grief that had been flowing inside her for years, which she didn't want to share with her mother or anyone else.

"– gods – I still love him –" She whined out breathing hard, clasping her hands on his thick tunic, his hand stroking her back comfortingly.

"The boy you loved no longer exists." He said lowly and she felt her heart stop.

A cold shiver went through her body, a wave of disappointment and the realisation that he was right.

When Vaemond Velaryon challenged Luke's right to inherit Driftmark it turned out, to her horror, that they had to appear in the Red Keep to discuss the matter before the King himself. Her mother wanted them all to travel there, as a whole family meant to support her younger brother.

She didn't have the strength for this reunion – she hadn't slept or eaten, thinking about flying on Larax at night and just running away.

But where to?

She thought in moments like this about how her uncle had said he would take her to Essos one day, to the kingdom of their ancestors, and she burst out sobbing again, hiding her face in her hands, listening to the sound of the rain falling outside her window.

The journey to King's Landing had been long and tiring for her − she landed on Larax alongside her foster sisters and brothers, her hair tied up in a long braid, a leather travelling attire on her body, more comfortable and giving her more freedom of movement.

They arrived in the Red Keep using the royal carriages; when she stepped outside she was struck by how smaller and tighter everything seemed to her.

She felt tense and looked uncertainly around, fearing she would see him somewhere, but that did not happen.

They were greeted by one of her grandfather's lords, the Queen not honouring them with her presence; they were informed where they would be sleeping and she shuddered when she heard she would be spending the night in her old chamber, feeling the cold sweat on the back of her neck.

Walking through the corridors of the fortress she was hit by memories from everywhere and even though this was her home, she had never felt so foreign before.

She changed with the help of servants into a more appropriate attire – her two-tone gown had bare shoulders, her long to the ground, wide sleeves were red, and the material wrapping tightly around her breasts and hips was navy blue – the colours of the Targaryens and Arryns, her expression that she supported her mother.

She wondered if she should go outside or if it would be better to stay in the chamber, but in the end she decided that she would not be a coward, that she would not allow herself to be intimidated in her own home.

Therefore, she moved alone through the familiar corridors of the Red Keep, skirting the entrance to the library, feeling her heart beating wildly.

She heard the sound of blades crossing, saw, standing in the cloisters, crowds of people surrounding a pair of warriors apparently practising hand-to-hand combat, heard applause and sounds of admiration, recognised the faces of her brothers among them.

And then she saw him, first his white hair and then his eye patch − she felt her whole body freeze, her throat squeezed so tightly that she felt like she was going to suffocate.

He was so tall that she could see his silhouette perfectly, she couldn't believe how much the man could have changed over the years.

She saw that he had said something to Luke and Jace, the sight of their horror made him grin broadly, but it was a frightening smile, a sneer that didn't reach his healthy eye, his gaze cold, amused.

It seemed to her that she saw more animal than human traits in him, his way of moving, his gait was defiant, agile.

He looked like a predator prowling around his prey.

She thought with pain that he was terrifying.

Their attention was distracted by the sound of trumpets; the gates leading into the courtyard opened and Vaemond Velaryon appeared in it, walking at the head of his retinue. She swallowed loudly as she saw his chin raised high, as if he was sure of victory in his cause even though his brother was still alive.

She saw her uncle turn towards her and walk up to one of the servants, reaching out to him impatiently, wanting him to hand him another shield and then their gazes met.

She saw the surprise and disbelief in his healthy eye; he froze and although he took what he wanted he did not turn to face Criston.

Even from a distance she could see his nostrils moving restlessly with each of his deep breaths, as if he was trying to calm himself, his jaw clenched tightly.

She didn't know why, despite the fact that he frightened her so much, despite the fact that he never answered any of her letters, she felt like throwing herself into his arms and crying, simply to say that she missed him, that she prayed every day that she would see him again.

However, before she had time to do anything under the influence of emotion he turned and nodded at Criston, immediately attacking him with his sword which swished loudly in the air, as if he wanted to take it out on him for what he had just seen.

She decided to return to her chamber, and it was only behind the door that she burst into sobs, realising what had terrified and torn her heart the most.

Daemon was right.

The boy she loved no longer exists.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[randxmthxughts]

Nerves talking - Neteyam x Crybaby!Reader

summary: after spending months teaching his little sister's friend how to hunt, neteyam is surprised by the lack of her progress. later on, he discovers then that she is just too nervous to be around him because of her not-so-small crush

wc: 3.1k

contains: miscommunication trope, reader as a sensitive mess, kiri being mvp

masterlist

incredible art by @ArtKokhan on twitter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Try again,” Neteyam ordered, as he watched you adjust your grip on the bow.

You gulped, trying to shove the growing frustration back into your stomach. The more you missed the target, the more embarrassed you felt to be working under Neteyam’s watchful eye. Especially because you hadn’t hit it even once since the lesson had started.

And it wasn’t like Neteyam was a strict teacher or would ever get angry with you for failing. On the contrary, his approach was gentle, patient. Even when his father first ordered him to teach his sister how to hunt, and you were pulled along into it by Kiri, Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at the extra student. Though, somewhere along the way, Kiri grew tired of archery and started missing the lessons, leaving you alone with Neteyam more frequently than your poor heart could ever handle. 

You had the biggest crush on the man, always so jittery and nervous to be in his presence that you could hardly concentrate at all. Every time Neteyam would correct your stance, or help you with the bow, all your blood rushed to your ears, skin feeling tingly and hot even by the faintest of his touches. And he genuinely didn’t even suspect it; always being his lovely, charming self, throwing jokes and compliments your way, as if you weren’t one of his worst students. What was more ironic that you were actually a decent archer when practicing in your own company. 

As you aimed and released the arrow, it sailed towards the painted tree with a loud swoosh and hit the outer ring. You let out a disappointed sigh, shoulders hunching immediately in discomfort, but it didn’t seem to discourage Neteyam. Instead, he stepped close to you, and guided your weak stance with a gentle touch. 

“Don’t forget to breathe,” he advised in a low voice, and you knew for sure that he could feel the goosebumps covering your skin.

As he didn’t rush to step away, his warm breath on your neck, and his hand resting lightly on your back, you became even more flustered. Oh, this was going to suck, you thought. And just like you expected, Neteyam’s proximity to you made matters worse; this time the arrow didn’t even graze the tree, but flew downwards and dug itself into the ground. Neteyam chuckled softly.

“Well, we’re getting somewhere,” he flicked the tip of your nose, “But next time try to aim for the target.”

“Very funny,” you mumbled, shying away from his playful gesture, “I don’t think I can ever hit it.”

“Hey, what did I say about the negative-talk?”

You watched as he took out his own bow and aimed at a fruit that was hanging precariously from a far tree branch. He took a breath and released the arrow, hitting its mark perfectly.

“Bad thoughts hinder the growth,” you answered simultaneously with the thud of the fruit hitting the ground

“Good girl.”

Neteyam went to retrieve the fruit, his back turned, and in that moment you could have sworn that Eywa was looking out for you and saving you from being caught in your deepest shade of blue. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” he turned around with a smile, throwing you the fruit. You managed to catch it, “Have some, you need to eat.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Hey, did Neteyam teach you that?” Kiri pointed at the arrow that landed close to the bullseye, its tail springing up and down from the force of the release.

You let out a bitter chuckle, unsure of how to respond to Kiri's question. It was true that you often went to train by yourself to work on your composure around Neteyam, meticulously recalling every piece of advice he had given you. But the moment you were around him, it seemed like all of that knowledge seemed to evaporate into thin air.

“To be quite honest, I had no hopes for you,” Kiri teased.

“Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes at her, “I can actually kick your ass now.”

“Is that so? Let’s see it then,” she challenged, gesturing towards the target.

You grinned with a newfound confidence, taking out another arrow. You guessed that it was definitely the effect of Neteyam and his amber eyes because you didn’t feel nearly as nervous when you were being watched by Kiri. Instead, there was a surge of sureness when you looked at the arrows you shot before, clustered around the closest circle to the middle. You adjusted your stance like a pro, and Kiri couldn’t deny it, she was actually impressed with the way you presented yourself.

It didn’t take you long to focus and shoot, the arrow landing exactly in the bullseye with a swift release. Kiri clapped her hands, releasing a loud excited squeak, and pulled you into a hug. 

“You’re actually a pro!” she exclaimed, and you couldn’t resist the sweet satisfaction of your accomplishment. You usually had to reserve it for yourself but sharing it with Kiri felt more special. 

But as you let your chin rest on her shoulder, and she went on about how impressed she was, you spotted a figure not too far away. Your eyes widened at the realization that it was Neteyam, and you rapidly pulled away from Kiri in the shame of being watched by him. With heavy steps, Neteyam approached you, forcing you to lower your gaze to the ground. What if he draws a connection between his teaching and you failing miserably, and cracks your little secret about the not-so-little crush? 

“Y/N, did you shoot all of these?” he asked, the slight anger in his voice catching both you and Kiri off guard. 

She looked in between you confused, never having seen her brother to be so tense around you. Clearly, the possibility of Neteyam getting irritated with you hadn’t even crossed either of your minds.

“She did, even the bullseye,” Kiri shrugged, “Why are you so grumpy about it?”

"So all this time you were pretending to be bad at it, even though you knew how to shoot?" Neteyam ignored her, his tone more accusatory.

“Hey, back off,” Kiri scrunched up her nose in irritation, gently shoving Neteyam to make him move. He took a few involuntary steps back, but his expression remained cold and frustrated. 

“No, I wasn’t pretending, I really didn’t know how to…” you trailed off, staring at the ground. The lump growing in your throat at the accusation was making you too emotional to remain calm. You had never heard Neteyam speak to you that way before, and you were afraid that you might burst into tears if you had to look at him.

“We have been having lessons for months, Y/N. You think this was a funny prank to pull? Do you have any idea how much time I wasted, and for what?” he let out a disappointed sigh, his hands falling to his sides.

Your heart sank as you forced yourself to meet Neteyam's gaze. You couldn't tell him the real reason, at least not like this, not here. His anger was morphing into disappointment, which was confusing, because he was usually so patient with you. But Neteyam hated being lied to, and he didn't want to feel like a fool for your own entertainment. He wondered if you had been going around with other hunters, showing off your skills while he put all his time and energy into teaching you something you already knew. 

“I’m sorry,” you managed to say with a sniff, tears already welling in your eyes, “I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

Neteyam only shook his head in response, his expression softening slightly as he caught the glistening of the tears you were barely holding back. He exhaled loudly through his nose and stormed off, and the second he was gone, the tears broke like a rainstorm.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

If you had thought that being around charming Neteyam was difficult, you had clearly underestimated facing angry Neteyam. The cold shoulder he kept giving you was agonizing, eating you from the inside slowly and painfully. And being the way that you were, you could cry on the spot every time he ignored you in public. 

Kiri was convinced that the only solution to your reconciliation would be telling him the truth. Neteyam had been burned by being taken advantage of before; girls pretending to be incompetent at things they were actually skilled at to gain his attention, and completely disregarding his time. Especially with the intensity of his Olo’eyktan training, Neteyam barely had time to breathe, let alone use it on someone who didn’t need his help.

And what you didn’t know was that it especially hurt Neteyam that it was you. Someone he had grown to care for and looked forward to meeting up with. A chore that didn’t feel like one. If he had a choice, he would spend all day watching over you, guiding you through every misstep without a care. Because being around you allowed him to drop down his guard and be himself, something he struggled with as the future Olo’eyktan burdened with heavy responsibilities. There was no pressure to perform.

Your shy nature, your sensitivity, was what encouraged him to be more open, light-hearted. You were so comforting to him, Neteyam felt like he could crack jokes and even flirt sometimes, without feeling guilty for it. Oh, he thought he was such a fool for believing anyone could ever see him for the way he was.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You gripped the handle of the basket so tightly, your knuckles had turned white with the effort. Holding it close to your chest, it was much heavier than you remembered, filled to the brim with fruits picked out from the tallest trees grazed by the sunlight, and aromatic herbs woven into bouquets. It was naive to think it could be enough to get Neteyam’s forgiveness but you still felt bad. Very bad. 

As you approached the corner of their house, he suddenly sprang out in front of you, causing you to stumble and almost drop the basket. You were startled, but Neteyam seemed unimpressed to see you there.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice cutting through the air like a sharpened blade. 

“I just wanted to give you this and apologize again,” you mumbled, offering him the basket. 

But as Neteyam stared at your outreached hands with pursed lips, he made no effort to accept it. He stepped back with a shake of his head, and you could feel your heart sink.

“I don’t want it.”

"I didn't mean to offend you - ," you began to explain yourself, trying to remain calm but your vision was already blurring from tears.

“You had done enough already,” he scoffed and walked past you, leaving you standing there. 

You let the basket hang in your hands, so heavy, you were barely holding it. Tears streamed down your cheeks in big drops, and despite your mind telling you to go back home, it was like your feet were glued to the ground.

“Y/N?” Kiri’s gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You hurried to wipe away the evidence of your humiliation but Kiri was quick to draw the connection between the look on your face and the basket filled with gifts. Without hesitation, she pulled you into their home and sat you down on the ground.

“Don’t cry, Y/N, it wasn’t your fault,” she put a hand on your shoulder, “It was all a big misunderstanding, I’m sure Neteyam will come around.”

“I didn’t mean to lie to him,” emotions were overflowing within you, and between your sniffling, Kiri had to concentrate to make out your words, “I just like him so much, he makes me shaky...”

“Well, you have to tell him that he makes you nervous,” Kiri urged with a softened gaze, “Neteyam will be flattered.”

“No, he will think I am pathetic,” you shook your head.

“He won’t,” she disagreed, "I mean, you didn't even want him to teach you in the first place. I forced you into the lessons and left you alone. Honestly, it was my fault."

“It wasn’t,” you sniffled again, “I shouldn’t have wasted his time like that. He taught me so much but I just can’t concentrate around him… I can’t even talk to him sometimes, let alone shoot well.”

A small smile stretched Kiri’s lips, the sight of her friend confessing to her such obvious feelings was amusing. Like everybody else, Kiri had known well that you were soft, taking the smallest things to your heart. And though the solution seemed too clear to her, she didn't want to interfere in something that should be left between you and Neteyam. Instead, she was prominent in only nudging either of you in the right direction. She threw a meaningful look at the entrance where she had sensed Neteyam’s lingering for some time now. 

When he saw you tear up at the refusal of the gift and stormed off, Neteyam’s heart couldn’t bear it to know it was already the second time that he made you cry. And no matter how disappointed he was with you, he just simply wasn’t going to tolerate the thought of you being so upset over him. The regret pushed him to chase after you, to apologize and hope that the words he’d pour out would be enough to calm you down. And it was then when he overheard you crying to his sister, the confession stopping him in his tracks. 

His heartbeat was so loud, it filled out his ears and vibrated through his throat. Neteyam came to a stunning realization that the feelings he had buried deep within himself were reciprocated. That the reason why he was never frustrated with your slowness was finally justified; all this time, he secretly hoped you would need his guidance for as long as possible, just so he could spend more time with you. The sight of your delicate tear-stained face, glistening eyes adorned with long lashes clumped together, made him want to hold you and never let go. Yet, knowing that he had such an effect on you made Neteyam feel like the happiest man on Pandora.

“I think it’s my cue to leave,” Kiri stood up, glancing at her brother.

You frowned at her sudden movement and followed her gaze to the entrance. Neteyam stepped in nervously, his eyes locking with yours. Mixed emotions washed over him like a bucket of cold water, drenching him to the bone. You liked him. And he hurt you for it. Embarrassed and flustered, you clung to Kiri’s hand, silently pleading for her to stay, not wanting to be left alone with him.

“Can we talk?” Neteyam asked quietly.

He caught your attention just enough to allow Kiri to slip away. She nudged him playfully upon her exit and there you were... Has he heard your confession? The look on his face was so sour, almost like he was readying himself to turn you down.

“Y/N, first, I must apologize for being this cold with you,” his voice was soft, startling you slightly.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, never expecting it. Was Neteyam apologizing? He hesitated before lowering himself to the ground in front of you. His eyes observed the basket of gifts for a moment, as he was pondering over his next words.

“And I also heard what you said to Kiri about me. And I...I didn't know you felt that way."

Your heart beated trepidly at his words, humiliation flooding your veins immediately. You had never intended for him to find out, especially not like this. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, this must be worse than if I had pulled a prank on you instead,” your voice was so sincere with apology, it mortified him.

“No, no, don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong,” he shook his head so desperately, it must have strained his neck, "And I don't want you to feel like you have to impress me or anything. I just want us to be... comfortable with each other. I guess, just didn’t think you liked me so much, I threw you off your game,” he chuckled weakly.

“This is so embarrassing,” you covered your face with your palms, but Neteyam was quick to gently peel them away. He lifted your chin with his fingers, urging you to look at him.

“No, I think it’s cute… you’re very cute.”

“W-what?”

You stammered, the words you could only wish to hear in your dreams were spilling out of his mouth. How could he have been that blind towards your affections? You were always carefree and bubbly with others, but so shy with him. And Neteyam adored your shyness, he just couldn’t believe he had never made a connection before.

He beamed at you, as if he was seeing you for the first time. Your timid nature, delicate features, the way you blushed under his gaze. Neteyam leaned closer, the proximity sending shivers down your spine.

“I like you too,” he whispered.

You blinked in shock, your gaze darted between his captivating eyes and his plump lips. Unable to hold back any longer, Neteyam leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your skin. He kissed you, and it was as if the world around you had ceased to exist. Your mind went blank as his soft lips moved in sync with yours, and his hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer in a gentle, swift move. Everything he did was perfect. He was perfect.

Neteyam pulled away for breath with a toothy grin, leaving you completely wordless. You tried to calm your own breathing, but the feeling of the kiss was still too fresh on your lips, blushing profusely as he leaned back.

He observed the basket once more before reaching out to pluck a fruit from it. As he brought it to his lips and took a bite, you couldn't help stealing glances at him, desperately appreciating the way he savored it.

"Thank you," he said, looking up at you, "This is delicious."

And with no further warning, he pressed his lips against yours once more, his gratefulness manifesting in that sweet gesture. Your cheeks flamed as you savored the taste of fruit on his lips. When you parted, Neteyam rested his forehead on yours, a small smile on his lips.

“I don’t think I can keep up with our lessons after this,” you joked, trying to ease the tension between you.

“Mhm, maybe we should just try out a new reward system instead,” he teased back. Your laughter bubbled up at his words, and Neteyam thought it was going to become his favorite sound in the world.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

taglist (let me know if you want to be added):

@bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @netemoon @minjix @nilrilie @grierpilots @suntizme @live-laugh-neteyam @misscaller06 @darkacademictrash @arminsgfloll @omnifanfic-copycat @crazyforteyam @sakura-onesan

[adoregojo]

★- haunted by the trails of you.

a/n: here's some more angst i had in drafts and now I'm setting it free. wanted more pain but this what yall are getting for now d: (potentially getting a part two)

summary: their first anniversary without you, and you'd still be haunting them. !! gn reader!! characters: isagi, reo, rin. warnings: men. hurt/barely an comfort, the word 'vomit', blood mentions in rin's part, appear of other characters. perhaps heavy angst?

isagi: it was at his own home. for what he can fathom, isagi isn't considered as someone who's hooked on the past. at least that's what he pinned his head to. what had chronicles should've been a lesson, something that'll help him move forward, a memory that'll get him through to his feet again.

once the past had been written, there was no undoing. only exceptions and take the moral out of it.

sometimes isagi wished he had tugged on that enough as much as he tugged his heart to yours.

he was about to send himself a clout. has he learned nothing? why can't he draw a clear line without the ghost of you obsessing in every corner of his life? so instead, he botches his hair to untidy navy-blue locks flying out of place, mumbling cusses to none other than himself.

He bet he looked like a madman, uttering loathes undertone within every step upon a stair he took. He swore he spotted a middle aged lady covering her son's ears in horror. maybe he wasn't muttering as low as he thought.

it was saturday, in which isagi takes a day off to greet his parents from time to time. and he wasn't gonna cancel that over some feelings he might've got the wrong end of the stick about, it was probably just lingering lust and affection he had for you, but I'll past. clinging to the mere possibility and ignoring the ache that remains for too long than intended.

swirling the keys with his bare hands, isagi can view the frigid smoke of his breath appearing with every puff he let out. the tips of his fingers and knuckles were embarrassing standing out an angry shade of red, he forgot his gloves, again ,recalling: yoichi never really had to bat an eye when it comes to gloves. he'll even do it on purpose since you wouldn't think twice before launching yours to his frosty hands, while interlocking your hands with the other one.

now that he mentioned it, he always recollect how futile of an attempt it was. because the back of his hand will always remain polar, but at that time, it didn't carried a feather. he didn't really mind freezing to death if it meant I'll be in your arms. then he'll die any day.

isagi remains stationary, until his forehead rests the irony of his house door. he didn't know if he was deeply disappointed in himself, or just drowned by the sweet bygone days. gabbling something about how an idiot he was before taking a deep lungful of air and finally opening the door.

flinging his shoes to gods knows where, at this state even his mother's berating wouldn't budge a bone in him, yeah, this is how bad it was.

to his astonishment, there were no trails of his parents. isagi called, shouting once, twice. and gave up on the third time. he jogs around to the kitchen era, like expected: a dangling note covering some plate, informing him that they went out and they'll be back before dinner. 

isagi just let out a defeated sigh, an obvious pessimistic wave looming over him. he was genuinely hoping to spend a family-time right away, and something to divert him away from the wraith of you.

a part of him wondered, what answer could he hand his parents, breaking the fact that you two were no longer together. his parents always loved you, adored you even. they'd definitely be shattered, he'll just muddle it by saying that you two drew apart till an ultimate downfall drilled up a hole in your relationship, leading to a break up. they’ll buy it, right?

blindly, isagi carried out the plat, slamming it flatly against the wooden table of the living room. making himself comfortable on the couch that held on the glimpse of his childhood, it was a pleasant to be at home again, and one of a great distraction.

he needed it.. anything to sway him away from the remainder of what name of this day earned..

from the corner of his eye, he spotted a second note. scoffing at himself isagi gets a grasp on it, living on the thought it might've been his parents requesting him to do chores, or just asking him to take extra care of himself. 

isagi consulted it, even when a part of him begged him not to.

‘dear, yocchan. we really hope you'll be the one to read this, but if not! hello yoichi’s partner, that's quite embarrassing if you're reading this hahaha. but anyway, we figured that today is your two anniversary, isn't that just great? We remember just yesterday they were being introduced to us for the first time. What a good time to be alive, but anyway. There's some surprise cake for the two of you to share! Happy anniversary, you lovebirds.- your mother (in law).”

‘don't get too carried away please! - your father (in law).”

isagi flouts, bitterly. so sorely that all the rock-hard grip of his hand went straight to poor paper, ripping it apart to fall into small chunks. the stomach-bug swirl, not the one with the butterflies plopping in the depths of his stomach, swarming with to define a new level of bliss. but a disgusting ache of venom mobbing, making him want to vomit in an instant. 

if it wasn't for his neighbors, isagi would've outcry his lungs out of frustration. but he wasn't on the field, where his anger planted. Now it's just a sad smile etching on his features. 

and maybe a drip of a few tears..

how long were you planning on haunting him for..

reo: he had to delete it.. for the longest period, reo had never been so glued on what he busted by his own hands, words and ego. he had no one to blame but himself, and yet no amount of strength that earth granted him, no matter how the sky have bore in tears gleaming the ground, a pool of agony cries pleading for him to do it.

all that and he’d still struggle to press the delete button. He just couldn't.

“man, just delete it already.” chigiri cried out, slamming his palms against the skin of his forehead. He was tired. and he wasn't even getting paid to deal with this shit.

“it's easier for you to say it, you don't get it.” reo sassed back, trudging inches away from the redhead who's eyes twitched in disbelief. 

nagi and chigiri一well, mostly chigiri, have been summoned by a cry for help from their shared friend. just for the end of the world to be him trying to delete the pictures and videos of you and him, his ex that lived in his head rent free. 

it was a wretched sight to see, his eyes were tearing up while scrolling through your memories together. chigiri一god’s greatest soldier, was really, really doing everything he can to encourage reo back on his feet. It was like helping a spineless creature to straighten up. 

it's quite impressive, he can use all his abilities on soccer pitches, give his best assists, be the heart, the mind and the soul of the field. Yet behind the plate was a completely different person, a hopeless guy curled up in a ball of your blanket that carried most of your left cologne, and sobbing till the sunrise. and today was a special show, he was absolutely shattered because your scent was slowly vanishing. 

all chigiri can do is pinch the bridge of his nose in foiling, “listen, how about we go out or something? there's a nearby place we can get lunch and-”

“they used to love that restaurant¦” reo whines, shoving his phone into the redhead face, it carried a picture of you smiling blissfully and unaware, cheeks rife with food. “they're.. cute, so cute it makes me want to die.” falling backwards on the silky duvet of the queen-sized bed. 

“Please don't, I still need my monthly allowance on genshin.” the one time nagi decided to finally say something, it had to be this. and chigiri never wanted to zip up someone's mouth so badly.

“you keep on stabbing yourself in the throat, you dumbass. if you can't do it then I'll do it for you.” stretching out his arm, opening up his palms for reo to hand over the phone and get this over with already.

in an instant, the phone was being embraced tightly to his chest, “no! I can do it myself, I just need some time," Chigiri just raised his hands in surrender, mumbling a quick ‘whatever’ as he jumped out the bed, leaving the extra space for his friend to grieve, alone.

it was a miracle that his tears still remain un-parched. Every photo he scroll through, the lump in his throat narrows painfully. clinching his lips upwards every time he crossed over while you were smiling, it hurts so good. He doesn't recognize whatever the knot in his stomach was reducing in sorrow or ecstatic.

he wasn't trashing any of those, he couldn't find it in his heart too. instead of criticizing himself of what he should've said to make you stay, what could've he done to swoon your heart instead of fleeting it. you'll keep on tip-toeing around his heartstrings and he'll let you without a charge.

he squeaked in his pillow, he just kept on bruising himself, torturing himself by the dim memory of what the two of you had once. something that not even money could regain or even soothe on. he yearned for one more kiss, one more embrace, one more chance to get a glimpse of you and he'll die a happy man, that's a lie, he'll misses you even after death.

he wished for you to come and haunt him, eat him to bits. but it was like he was the one haunting the crumbs of you.

on the middle of his groaning mess, an amber eyes staring sharply at him, his figure casting a shadow over his state. “here, drink up.” nonchalant, he handed him a random juice he ‘eeny, meeny’ his way to. reo accepted the drink, his arm sluggishly taking it. chigiri swore he was about to crack the glass over his head if he wouldn't stop this pitiful little act of his.

“why are you even this hardcore sad? you were never like this in the last weeks.”

“it's their anniversary, but not anymore I guess.” nagi shrugged, still too focused on the screen of his phone to pay the slightest amount of attention. turning a blind eye when reo flinches a bit at his truthful words 

“have anyone told you you're a terrible human being?” 

one sip, a second one. and his lilac eyes were watering for a million time. “they used to love this drink.” he whispered.

“i genuinely hope you choke on it.” 

rin: it got so bad, he talked to sae about it.. running a few years backwards, if you told the sixteen years old itoshi rin he'd be seeking his own deadbeat of a brother to vent he'd spit out in your face with no second thought.

and if he could, he would've. because rin was rethinking his life choices, taking a step back every second yet taking two ahead then comprehending once again. and now there was no going back, what was between him and the urgent fate was a wooden door. 

his hands buried deep in his pockets instead of making an attempt to knock. he found gazing at his pair of shoes much more entertaining. 

he didn't have it in his head to think straight, not when you clouded over like an angry storm, all he can do is take it and let your teardrop roll down his face, or maybe they were his own tears, he couldn't savvy it. 

after a deep lungful of air, rin thrust his forward, just an inch away, only to stop briskly. sae? really? just how desperate is he? very. he come to cuss himself for counting you as the one and only person he apostrophizes with. if only he’d listen when you would rant about him approving his social skills, he should've listened instead plugging his ears. He wished he listened to a lot of things you said..

in a rush, the door unlocked in a swift. almost making him funk backwards, unraveling the sight of his older brother, standing unimpressed. and before rin could speak a word, sae took the lead. 

“you know I could see your shadow casting under my doorstep, right?” 

Rin clicks his tongue in annoyance, and when he doesn't reply, the reddish head moves to the side, and rin steers his way in. shutting the door behind him, sae jog away, letting him take off his shoes. not even a proper welcome, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up.

the apartment was quite tidy, a strong aroma loomed underneath his nose. Despite that, it was awkwardly dull, not even ghosts would bother haunting it. rin takes a seat in a solo couch, fumbling his fingers in a bothersome way, the silence was a deadline, not anything he wasn't used to.

It was just the first time rin had come here, by himself. without an actual family required to stick to the back. 

or without you.

unintentionally, Rin's leg keeps thrusting. a bad habit of his when the tension gets thick. every passing second he berates himself even further, damn him for having only one path to seek solace in, for allowing only one soul to soothe over his frail heart, for authorizing only one embrace to delay him.

and damn you for carving open his heart. just to leave him to bleed.

the echoing steps of sae cut his strails of thoughts. settling down his cup of hot tea. rin raised a brow at the uncivil manner. “you didn't ask for one.” his brother shrugs calmly, oh he was driving him nuts with this unchanged attitude. 

breathe in, rin.

reverberating voice called, so he obeys. straighten his pouster. “I wanted to talk to you about something. it's important.” 

“I can tell. and your sidekick is nowhere to be found, did they finally ditch you?”

his hands clutching up in a makeshift ball, rin says nothing.

“oh, so they did?” sae blows a few times over the overheated cup, taking a sip then uttering something under his breath. “Well, that's unfortunate.” adding another cube of sugar as he retorted. 

rin only got something out of this, that his brother didn't give a single fuck. and it drove him to the edge.

“You can at least pretend that you care.”

“never said I didn't.”

“you didn't have to, it's fucking showing.” rin seethed, his clenched hand striking the table balance, making the sugar cubes fall out of place. his anger was collapsing even the sweetest floras.

that doesn't nuge sae the slightest, but makes him frowns his brows a bit, because he was the one who had to sweep that off later.

the tension was solid and bulky, and Rin refused to break eye contact with the equal hues. Daring him to say something, anything. Yet he took it as a challenge, like he always does. The only way he communicates with sae is by beating him, proving himself. He'll die on that hill, even if it killed him itself. even if it has killed you already.

he knew this was a stupid idea, he should've just rotted in bed, he should've kept on living in the repeated circle of misery. He should've just lived up with every rush of breeze rustling his mistakes over and over, where he could've sworn that it was your voice.

breath, rin.

he was fucking trying. 

“So what do you want me to do about it? be your wingman and pair you together again?” 

“or, you could just say nothing. listening is enough.”

after a moment of silence, sae shoulders ease up. a guster pointed for him to keep going. so rin dose, he rants and rants like he had the time of the world right in his palms. It was mostly about you, how you were something that became his everything, how he should've stopped you like he wanted to, how he let you be driven away like he always does, how he should've apologized like he was supposed to. 

blustring about ‘what the if’s’ and what would've happened if he just.. he loved you like you loved him.. if only he tried. he can't blame it on his immense ego, his lack of communication, the digged hole on his soul that you bleeded to fill, you gave all your flesh till there was nothing left but bones.

he could've rebuilt the broken pieces of your heart, but they were too sharp to hold. He bled within every one, he was bleeding to ashes, to nothingness. 

you loved till there was nothing left to love about you. you drained down the hill. not even his blood could fulfill you.

his voice would crack, a dust cloud blows over his eyes, yet sae would stare at him ever so flatly. if he even dares to say disappointment. disappointed that his younger brother was just a copy past of him. 

someone that kills everything he touches.

When rin has nothing left to say, sae stands up. reaching his pocket for a card that carries a name and a number. as the dark-head flipped the card between his fingers, blood-thirst eyes narrowed at him.

“a fucking therapist? are you fucking kidding me?"

“you clearly need one.”

“I don't, is this some kind of lukewarm joke?”

“stop being corny, I'm trying to help you here. if you aren't willing to let yourself feel the sense of loss, you can suit yourself out.”

and with that, sae turns his back to him. like he always does. climbing the stairs to his bedroom, leaving rin to reconsider where his actions have driven him, how beyond it threw it all. 

although, he’ll never let himself feel the sense of loss. never. He'd rather be haunted by you than be alone forever, he'll be a stray till you pick him up again.

lmao wrote this with nagi plushie watching me like a hawk

[lohotine]

AN: This is an April Fools special because I feel like Shadow Milk definitely uses this day as an excuse to pull pranks on you. I really wanted to make an Easter Special yesterday but ran out of time.

Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: None

-April Fools!-

Today is a day that you haven't exactly been looking forward to. You see, Shadow Milk Cookie is no stranger to pulling a prank or two. He actually does it very often, and every time you fall for one, he'll laugh and laugh and laugh.

But now that it was April first, he actually had an excuse.

Normally, you're awoken by the chime of your alarm clock or by Shadow Milk Cookie shaking you awake because he's bored and needs attention.

Today it was from a gong.

Yes, that big cymbal looking thing. Honestly, who just casually has one of those lying around?

Shadow Milk, apparently.

"Good morning Doll!" He said cheerfully and like he did not just burst your eardrums.

You would groggily lean up in the bed, giving your boyfriend an annoyed glare.

"You've just been holding onto one of those for this moment?" You asked him, referring to the gong.

"Nope! I just got it in yesterday."

Of course he did.

"Now come on, we've got a big day ahead of us! Hurry up and get ready, silly." He shoved you into the bathroom for you to get yourself ready.

If you thought that he also wouldn't take this chance to pull something, then you'd be poorly mistaken.

The mirror was fully covered in sticky notes, and this was a big mirror. All of them were different shades of blue, as well.

Written on each of them was a different thing that he liked about you.

You read every single one.

It was a cute prank and you appreciated the dedication, but... now you didn't want to take them off.

Okay, that's fine, you can just use the mini makeup mirror instead. No big deal.

He's such a brat. Cute, but still obnoxious.

Once you finished getting ready, you walked out of the bathroom to see a still smiling Shadow Milk Cookie.

He was waiting for something.

"It was cute," You'd say.

"I know! ...Did you take it down though?"

"No."

"Oh really? You liked it that much? I'll make sure to compliment you more often, then."

He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. He left some soft kisses along your neck.

"Come on dove, let's go eat~"

Shadow Milk Cookie began to guide you outside of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

Everything was upside-down.

The couch, the picture frames, the lamp. Everything.

When you looked towards the obvious culprit, he only had yet another innocent smile on his face.

"Oh my, what happened here?" He'd ask, feigning ignorance.

"I wonder.."

How did he even have the time for something like this? No. How did he even do something like this? It was almost impressive.

"So... how do you plan to eat breakfast like this?" You asked him, crossing your eyes with a disappointing look.

"Ah right..." He just kinda stares at the ceiling before snapping his fingers. All of the furniture returns to its original place. There was also some breakfast on the table.

"See. I think ahead!" He gestured for you to sit down, to which you obliged, and began eating the food that Shadow Milk Cookie prepared.

Nothing seemed odd about it.

It's strange. He keeps alternating between sweet and sour.

What exactly was his plan?

You took a sip of the coffee Shadow Milk had prepared.

It wasn't sweet.

No, it was actually very bitter.

Salty, even.

"Do you like it? I added a special little something," he said with a smile.

"Why are you like this?"

"April Fools!"

It was going to be a long day.

[yarmiko-art]

Watch out, kids, there's a man eating butterfly over there--!

Really wanted to make something like this with them for a while. I care for them so much. Wholeheartedly believe that those kids have a really deep bond

There's a lil tidbit down the post with me trying to do the character study on Gooey.

"I can't do it right," Gooey mutters quietly with clear sadness in their voice, looking at the crumpled wad of paper under their fingers. Whatever this thing was, it definitely wasn't a paper plane he worked so hard on for the ten minutes, sticking out his tongue with diligence.

The boy raises his head up, looking at a white speck among the green leaves. Kirby's planes flew easily and far without effort. One of them soared so high up that it got stuck in the crown of a tree, which stretched a huge pleasant shadow above them. A pretty orange butterfly perched itself on a white wing. Even it likes Kirby's plane better.

Kirby's paper frogs were better, too. They jumped on the grass as if they were alive - the boys just needed to lightly poke their flattened heads. Origami cranes gracefully positioned themselves in the shade with their wings spread out. Waiting for the wind to pick them up in the air. The doves were made of regular, even lines.

And Gooey couldn't even make a simple paper plane. Maybe the wings were too short to allow them to fly forward rather than fall, driven down by the force of the impact. Or maybe he was making too many bends on the sheet, constantly forgetting which corners to bend inwards. But it suppose to be so easy. Kirby made it look so easy.

Gooey looks at their hands in disappointment. Palm. Five splayed child fingers with a couple of scratches from carelessness. No different from a human one. Gooey grabs Kirby's wrist and puts his palm against his own, carefully comparing them. Frustrated eyes run from one hand to the other. Kirby doesn't mind. His free hand ruffles the blue dreadlocks on other's head in a soothing manner.

"Don't be upset. I didn't do it right the first time either."

Gooey unclenches the fingers, closing his eyes. He wouldn't be so upset about the first time. But this was the third one! Something was clearly wrong! He obviously did something wrong while morphing these hands—Huh?

The look of big dark eyes attracts something new. Kirby takes out a new sheet from the pile of paper pinned down by the picnic basket. He smoothes it out on the grass and lures Gooey closer.

"Fold it in half first," the boy draws an imaginary fold line across the sheet before Gooey hesitantly follows the instructions, "Neat! And now one more time. And then open it."

Fold the corners to the inside. Fold up the bottom. Corners again... Following Kirby's words was much easier than frantically trying to remember the next step in fear of ruining the sheet. Turn it on its side and in half again. Huh, Gooey doesn't remember such a step in the plane making. Although, maybe that's why they didn't couldn't do it right.

The sheet goes tightly under the fingers, bending unevenly. "It won't fly this time either," the boy tells himself, but completes the last instruction - pull the corners to the sides. He expects the paper to tear, but instead the origami in his hands opens up in--

"A boat?" Gooey blinks a little puzzled, and Kirby tugs at his elbow in the direction of the pond. The water was right next to them, splashing the knees, covered with herbal juice Two hands sink into the cool pool, allowing the boat to gently stand on the shiny surface. Gooey leans forward, hanging over the pond at a dangerous angle, about to fall into the water. But the boat is not sinking. Kirby takes a deep breath and blows - the light paper gives in, and moves forward, leaving a small ripple on the blue surface.

Gooey blinks again and their face breaks into a happy smile. It's strange, he can't remember what he was so upset about.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a reflection in the pond below him. Two little children - one in a white overalls, and the other in a blue robe. He raises his hand and the child from the pond waves back at him. Palm. Five children's fingers. Quite human.

[endthedream]

[8:29 pm]

heeseungs new hair colour makes you feel a type of way.

1k words / slightly suggestive (make out scene)

masterlist

Heeseung nervously glides his hand through his hair, one time, two times, enough times to not be able to keep count anymore. He looks at the time on his phone over and over again, awaiting your arrival almost anxiously.

Heeseung looks at his reflection on the black screen of his phone, reminding him yet again where the nervousness inside of him comes from. It was a spontaneous decision, not even him knew about it until twenty minutes before it was done. And now instead of the purple he had for months, his hair is a deep shade of blue. He isn’t complaining, not at all, he loves how the blue hair looks on him, he just doesn’t know what you will think.

Over the past month you have been empathising how much you adore the purple colour on him. He vividly remembers one night, his hands roaming your figure , lips on your neck, bodies intertwined, where you breathlessly told him how attractive he looks with the coloured hair. Heeseung has been using his look once too many times to make your knees week, to make you fold for him, and now that it’s gone, he is scared what you think of him.

Will you still find him attractive? Will you be sad? Disappointed? He doesn’t know where this nervousness comes from. Never did you have problem with any of his hair colours, but it’s the clear fact that you liked the purple one the most that makes him nervous. He didn’t want to change it, liking how everyone reacted to the colour on his hair, but with the new comeback a new hair colour was required. He just wished that maybe he could have warned you, told you so you can prepare for the change.

Just as he was about to check his phone again did he hear your key opening the door. Heeseung sits up almost immediately watching the door of the living room closely. He hears you taking of your shoes and jacket, putting your key on the little drawer in the hallway and taking small steps towards the living room.

“Babe are you home already? I was just thinking if we should-“ But before you can finish your sentence, you stand in the door frame of the living room, your boyfriend sitting on the couch looking at you with his big deer eyes. You immediately notice it the soft blue slightly wavy hair sitting on top of his head. You can’t help but to stare at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Do you hate it?”, your boyfriend asks in a small voice, insecurity dripping from every inch of his body. “I know I should have told you but I didn’t know. It was super spontaneous.”

“Heeseung-“, you try to speak up but he doesn’t let you, too focused on explaining you the situation.

“I know you probably hate it and you wish you could have the purple back. I know how much you loved it, but I really like this colour and maybe in a few days you got used to it and then you will love it too. I just hope you still find me attractive because I know a hair colour can change everything but I’m still me, you know? And I-“

It happens so fast that Heeseung couldn’t even prepare himself. Almost instantly, you take quick steps towards him, sit yourself down on his lap and softly plant your lips onto his. It takes him a second to register that you’re kissing him, but the moment he does, Heeseung wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer and kissing you deeper.

He presses you down against him and as a soft throaty moan leaves your lips he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth. You wrap your own arms around his neck, one hand softly grabbing the hair on the nape of his neck, tucking it with a need that lets him roll his eyes back in pleasure. When you feel Heeseungs hands slide under your shirt, desperately meeting your hot naked skin, you know you have to pull away from the kiss.

“God, Heeseung, I didn’t think you could get any hotter.”, you whisper against his lips, leaning down to press a few open mouth kisses to his neck.

“What?”, he croaks out, mind still hazy from the kiss.

“Heeseung.”, you say, looking into his eyes now. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you attractive anymore because of a hair colour?” Heeseung doesn’t give you a verbal answer but as you see him lower his head out of embarrassment, you know the answer to your question.

“Look at me.”, you softly call out, putting your hand on his cheek and lifting his head so he sees your face as you speak to him. “No hair colour or hair cut could ever change my mind about you. Yes, I did love the purple hair but I also loved the black, the pink, the blonde and the white hair. You know why?” Heeseung shrugs, eyes big and wide, looking deeply into yours. “Because I love the person wearing those colours. I love you, Hee. No hair colour will change that. And none of the less you make every hair colour look great.”

You see the small grin forming on the boys lips and you feel a quick wave of relief seeing him feel better about himself. “Heeseung with all due to respect you look so hot with this hair colour.”

“Do I?”, he teasingly asks, eyebrows raised and a smirk plastered on his face. “How hot do I look?”

“So hot that I want you to rip of all your clothes right here right now and take me on this couch.” For a millisecond, Heeseungs eyes widen at your request but as quick as it happened, it’s gone again and instead lust fills his brown orbs.

“Oh, Y/n.”, he says, almost moaning your name. “I’m going to fuck you so good that you will forget your own name.”

[starsfic]

My Pendant

Summary: Azure gets introduced to wedding pendants. Inspired by posts by @quitealotofsodapop.

It was the night of a late dinner when it happened.

Wukong was off doing something, helping with dinner, leaving Macaque to pour tea and wine. Azure sipped at both, soaking up the chatter of his brothers and the warmth of Flower Fruit Mountain. Sun Wukong's presence was embedded into the very landscape, and Azure adored it.

It was Yellowtusk who asked. “Apologies for my prying, Brother Six Ears,” he said. “But I have occasionally noticed that you and Wukong wear matching pendants, hidden under your clothes.” Eyes turned towards Macaque. “May I inquire about those?” Macaque blinked and then gave a rare smile, reaching into his shirt to pull out the pendant.

It was rather simple, in Azure's eyes, compared to the amount of jewelry that women at court would wear. It was just an orange leather or ribbon cord, wrapped to support and hold a chunk of an orange stone or gemstone. The color made Azure lean forward with interest. It was a shade of orange or gold similar to Wukong's fur. He could imagine the way the sun would catch it, just like with his brother’s fur.

“It is a tradition with stone monkeys,” Macaque was explaining, surprisingly mellow. “When a couple fall in love, they will exchange pieces of the stone they were born from.” He held the pendant out so they could see it better. “It's like mating jewelry.”

A white hot rush of want swept over him the minute those words settled.

Azure suddenly wanted nothing more than to wear that pendant.

The orange would clash against his hair and the shade of blue and purple he preferred to wear, but that didn't matter. It was a piece of Wukong's stone, marking whoever wore it as his mate.

He could imagine it now, the beautiful orange pendant sitting warm around his neck, in plain view of everyone who saw it. He wouldn't hide it away like Macaque did. No, everyone deserved to know that he and Wukong were mates, were in love. He hadn't been born from a stone, so he had no stone of his own to wrap around Wukong's neck, but he could find replacements, he was sure.

In his mind, Wukong pressed close against him, drinking in the sight of Azure wearing his pendant. Around his neck would gleam azure blue, finely crafted unlike the homestead make of Azure’s pendant.

“-Azure!”

He snapped back to reality to realize that everyone was staring at him. All except Wukong, who was setting plates of food down, beaming like the sun.

“Apologies,” he said, trying to force his eyes away from the prize he now knew Macaque wore. “I just got lost in my head.”

His neck suddenly felt terribly empty.

-_-

It wasn't orange. Instead, it was a shade of purple that flattered him.

Still, Azure couldn't help but feel a tad bit disappointed. It wasn't the orange pendant Macaque had worn all those years ago, a piece of Wukong's gorgeous stone. Instead, he wore a chunk of Macaque's rock, still warm from Wukong's neck.

It didn't matter. Azure had Wukong by his side now. Even better, he had born a son. He didn't care if sweet little Xiaotian wasn't his by blood. He was Wukong's, and that was all that mattered.

The door opened and Azure turned, feeling his heart grow light. One part of his fantasy was real. Dangling from Wukong's beautiful throat was a elegant sapphire pendant, practically glowing against his sunshine fur. Every part of him glowed, even Xiaotian in his arms, and Azure suddenly felt like that young lion again.

He could’ve been brighter with the Jade Emperor's power. The empress would have to do.

“My love!” he said, feeling his wedding pendant weight around his neck.

Finally in place.

[tielmamon]

Geralt meets up with Jaskier at the marketplace only to find him unusually flustered by some merchant he's talking to. Strange, usually its the other way around. Rolling his eyes at another possible angry spouse situation, Geralt stalks his way towards them.

He couldn't really tell you why exactly he's more irritated now- when Jaskier is the one stuttering and blushing under the charms of this fucking nobody- and so he pointedly ignores the little twinge he feels in his chest .

The merchant stands to casually roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows and smiling wider when Jaskier knocks his lutecase against the stall, thoroughly distracted.

With a low growl he didn't realize he was doing, Geralt lays a hand on Jaskier's shoulder once he's close enough. The bard squeaks, turning to Geralt and flushes a deeper shade of red.

"G-Geralt! I didn't hear you, my friend." The bard smiles, but his eyes are slightly frantic.

"Is everything alright?" He asks and before his bard could answer-

"Everything just fine, my good witcher! Was just asking Master Jaskier here to tell me a few stories of his travels." Geralt turns, eye twitching slightly at the interruption. He finally gets a good look at the fucker who seems to have his bard in a blushing mess. Dark wavy hair, strong build, piercing blue eyes, strong jaw and dimples as he smiles.

Nothing they hasn't seen before. Daresay, Geralt might even guess that this man- no, this boy was downright boring to look at, compared to all the other colorful people Jaskier surrounds himself with. Still, the child continues.

"I was just wondering if he had the time to tell me a few over dinner-"

"He's busy."

"Oh, well maybe at breakfas-"

"We leave at dawn."

A tense silence settles between the three. Jaskier's eyes widen upon reading Geralt's attitude. His witcher was thoroughly annoyed. Why? He's not so sure yet but with the snarl on his face and the clenching fists, Jaskier figures it's probably best if they leave now.

"Okay I think it's about time we settle back at the inn, wouldn't you say, Geralt? Right." He doesn't wait for a response, instead snaking his hand around Geralt's arm and tugging hard.

"Henry! Wonderful meeting you, of course. Thank you for your lovely company this afternoon but I'm afraid we have a contract bright and early tomorrow so we really must go. Goodbye!" Jaskier watches the young man startle from his frozen state to a disappointed look as they walk away. Jaskier is reminded of a kicked puppy.

Once they were a safe distance away, the bard turns to ask what the hell was all that about when he realizes that Geralt was straining his neck looking back at the man, eyes narrowed with one of those scowls Jaskier sees him use on people who think its a good idea to touch Roach, or one of his bags, or apparently now Jaskier himself.

"Will you stop that??" The bard all but smacks Geralt's face forward to stop him. The witcher, ever stubborn resists and only relents when he feels a palm cup his cheek to face him.

"What the fuck had you so enamored with him?" Geralt grumbles, like a grump. Jask stops them and shoots him a confused look.

"You don't see it?" He cryptically says, which only confuses Geralt as well.

"See what?" A beat of silence before Jaskier huffs an amused laugh and drags them into the inn, arms linked.

"Nevermind." Jaskier smiles.

[green-eyedfirework]

Slade watched his mate-to-be walk down the aisle and locked his jaw so he wouldn’t growl.  The haze of anger coated everything like spun-sugar, sickly and inescapable.  He had dreamed about running a sword through his bride so many times that he was half-afraid he’d wake to blood on his hands.

Grayson’s path was unhurried and graceful, the veil shading the omega’s form as he took dainty steps, escorted by his smiling aunt.  The mood of the hall was joyous, an exhale of relief at an averted war and the excitement of a change in the air.  He’d caught servants and nobles alike gossiping about the new consort and everyone had thrown themselves wholeheartedly into wedding planning.

None of them knew the truth.

None of them knew that white should be stained with red, that Grayson walked up the aisle playacting at innocence when he was guilty.

None of them knew that Gotham had delivered both murdered and murderer back to Defiance.

It had been the work of multiple spy reports as Slade delved deeper into the mystery of his eldest’s death.  Putting the pieces together, late at night, until grief and shock warred in equal measure.  Greeted by the Gotham contingent the next morning and the smiling, cheery visage of his son’s murderer and now his intended.

The final lilts of the march grew into a crescendo before dropping into silence.  The Gotham alpha, sister to its King, placed the omega’s hand in his own.  Slade had to stop himself from squeezing too tight.

“We gather here today, in the light of all that is true and holy, to join these souls in blessed matrimony…”

Up close, Grayson’s bright blue eyes were visible behind his lace veil.  His expression seemed oddly fixed—a grimace instead of the cheery smile he’d bestowed upon arrival.  Nerves, no doubt, much like the way his fingers almost trembled in Slade’s grip.  Perhaps he was holding too tight.

It was the deepest betrayal—to stand here in his capital, in the church where his son was baptized, to marry his murderer.  To swear a vow to champion his protection.  To watch false lips repeat an oath like poison dripping into his ears.

Slade’s only consolation was that the vow would be broken soon enough.

~#~

If his people were expecting him to put on a display of merriment, they would be sorely disappointed.  The mourning colors had only been exchanged for wedding decorations, and Slade hadn’t been one for frippery or fancy before that as well.  Still, there was more than one moue of disapproval when Slade disdained the dancing and Grayson, following his lead, refused every request that came his way.

Slade expected his new bride to be more talkative, having observed the way he chattered at the retainers that had accompanied him.  But aside from the pleasantries, Grayson’s mouth had remained firmly shut, even against every dish that was placed in front of him.  Oh, he made a show of moving things around his plate, but nothing that touched his lips passed through them.  Nerves, perhaps, or maybe Slade’s distaste was more obvious than he thought.  He fought to regain a coolly neutral expression.

He could not kill his mate tonight, no matter how badly he wished it.  Too hasty and too soon.  With Gotham retainers and nobles and guards and even the princess still here.  The risk was too high to be borne.

Slade would have to play nice tonight.  And the next night.  And the next and the next and the next, until the Gothamites left and his consort was all alone and circumstances could be arranged to find the murderer high up in a tower where he might fall to his doom.

The omega’s love of climbing was well known, after all.  Gotham would find no cause to assign blame.  After all, if Slade was denied the chance to go to war for his eldest son, he would ensure that King Bruce befell the same fate.

A son for a son.  A murder disguised as accident.  And finally, justice.