#its been so long and i still am heart broken lmao

[coolcoelacanth]

the way i am still sitting here thinking about capital H I M

[ilys00ga]

𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

➞ pair: yoongi x reader.

➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.

➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.

➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)

ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.

How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?

Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.

He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.

His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.

Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.

He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.

He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?

He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.

One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.

With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”

You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.

As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.

Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.

Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.

Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”

You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.

He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”

Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.

Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”

“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”

He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.

At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.

Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.

Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.

Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.

It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.

Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.

“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.

“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.

There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”

You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.

He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.

“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.

Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.

Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.

"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.

The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.

"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.

"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.

[aliorsboxostuff]

Hi! If your requests are open I have one! Just saw ATSV yesterday and its rotting my brain agsisghagdh anyways-

An M!Spider!Reader who is one of Miguel's trusted agents with a tendency to overwork himself to make sure that his teammates are kept safe and ignoring his own health in the process. This understandably makes Miguel very concerned but this man cannot healthily express this are you kidding? What I'm saying is classic troupe of patching you up while scolding you in Spanish and then maybe they kiss a little bit and well if you want to make it a little spicy I wont stop you >:]

Thank you very much! Genuinely makes my gay little heart happy when I see writers like you who exclusively write for gn/male readers, y'all are the backbone of the x reader community fr 💜

A/N: im so sorry this took so long this was months ago but a mf forgot and wow here i am yippee!!!! As usual, if yall find any spelling mistakes pls inform me as i’m always praciticing this damn 2nd language lmao. Lets see if my writing skills is still any good LOL enjoy!! <333

Careless 

Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Spider Society, No Smut, Kissing , Fluff, Reader is another spiderman, Soft!Miguel, slight OOC, patching up, healing fic, non-graphic description of wounds, mentions of blood and cuts 

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

Ever since the new guy joined the team, he quickly rose in the ranks and became Miguel’s right-hand man. He’d usually go on patrol, jumping from one universe to another with the man as they capture and contain anomalies like the bugs they are. Miguel puts his trust in him, well, as much trust as a man like Miguel can put in someone. But despite the short time the newbie has been in the Spider society, he has managed to capture Miguel and most of the Spider people's hearts so easily. 

He’s a comet that passes by the compound. Each time he returned from a mission, the spiders would gather around him, congratulating him on another successful mission and inviting him to drink or eat together.  A aswarm would always gather around the portal they knew he would come out from and each time, without fail, he would emerge to cheers and smiles. It wasn't like everyone else wasn't doing a good job, they were all doing what they were supposed to, but somehow the newbie was liked all around, solidifying Miguel’s slowly growing infatuation with him. 

But despite the trust and praises he gets, a spidey doesn't come home unscathed, not every time. Sometimes he’d come back from one of his solo missions with a broken rib or two, bruises in more places than necessary, a torn muscle here a twisted ankle there. He’d limp his way into the infirmary, an army of other spideys following him in worry yet he’d dismiss them easily with a simple wave and a; “It’s nothing guys, I’ll be fine,”

Miguel hates it.

Whenever the man goes on missions with the leader of the society, without fail, he will come home with nothing more than one or two bruises that would heal in a couple of hours if not minutes. Miguel would roll his shoulders back and the man would simply shake his head furiously like a dog before prancing to greet his waves of fans. Miguel didn't need to pay attention to him unless they were doing teamwork. He would run around by himself, track down the anomaly with him, and they would contain it easily and transfer it back just as easily. 

He might not look like it, but when Miguel brings a teammate with him on duo missions, he’s expected to cover their back and vice versa. Miguel will break any skull that dares to hurt his team and he hopes for the same response from his teammate. The newbie never disappoints. 

Miguel would find himself enraged, almost cornered by an anomaly, and there come’s Prince Charming with a devastating kick towards the anomaly’s side which sends it hurling into another building. Miguel appreciates their duo missions, the main reason he puts himself with the newbie. 

Not to mention, he makes a great team leader too. He’s carried out several missions with the younger ones, mainly Miles and Gwen, and despite it all, they always return successfully and with a snack in hand. When he goes on missions with Hobie, they’d somehow come back with a new intricate playlist created and when he goes on missions with Pavitr, they’d come back with pockets full of trinkets ready to give them to the other youngins. All in all, a solid team leader.

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

—

You were on a mission with Miles. One of your duo missions with the boy, rare considering Gwen usually tags along. But today she’s got a mission with Pavitr and Peni, which leaves you and Miles for some quality Dude Time. 

It was a sunny day in the universe Miles and you dropped in. As the two of you swing from building to building, talking about Miles’ thing with Gwen and laughing at how embarrassed he gets, continuing the topic to buying a new Lego set for Pavitr and Hobie as the two of you swung past a Lego shop, when suddenly the anomaly reveals itself.

Another variant of Doc Oct holding themselves up with their extended metal arms. You can handle a Doc Oct alone, and with Miles helping you, the mission was expected to be so easy you were already thinking about what to have for dinner. 

But things don't always go according to plan, does it?

It strikes 8 pm when Miguel gets a notif from Lyla that an arriving portal was opened into the containment site of the compound. The man clicks his tongue, dropping from his platform before making his way to the site. Every step he takes he leaves his foul mood like a repellent, making the other spidey avoid him, cutting the middle path of the other spideys like a blade. His scowl is not helping his case either way.

The last portal should've been at 6 pm.

The door slides open, and a slight hiss rings out into the room. Inside the evenly lit expanse of the room, he easily spots yours and Mile’s spider suits in between all the other anomaly's dingy outfits. Miguel takes a breath before he stalks towards the two men, their backs to him.

“Ugh, my rib is killing me,” You groan, pressing in the code to store the anomaly in its cell.

“You're telling me, this bruise is going to be a pain in the butt to heal,” Miles sighed, holding his left arm. “But if it weren't for you, man, I’d be dead meat,” 

“Oh come on Miles, none of us knew the guy would send a gas truck our way,” You scoff. The terminal beeps and the thrashing anomaly is contained. 

“The fact that it burned on its way towards us was also something we didn't expect.” Miles laughs at what you said as you find yourself cringing. You knew there were going to be burn marks on your leg.

“No, but seriously, thanks for covering me back there, I thought we’d-”

“You thought you’d what?” 

Miles practically jumps into your arms as the both of you screams. You shut your eyes and it seems like Mile’s did the same before a stern cough makes you peek through your eyelids. There, in front of you, stands a solid wall of muscle and anger. Miguel has his arms crossed, eyes so sharp it could cut a mountain in half. The slight scowl on his lips would be cute if it weren't for the pure bloodlust as he gazes down into you, making you gulp.

“Heeeeeey Miguel,” Your pathetic excuse of a smile was met with nothing but him deepening his frown. Okay alright yup.

Miles awkwardly scuffles down your arms. He coughs into his fist, pulling at the edge of his suit. “Hi there haha…”

Miguel stares. “The last arrival portal should've been at six.”

Not a sound from you or Miles. Miguel holds back a growl. 

“You two are late.”

“Right, ‘m sorry Miguel, I promise this would be the last time, it was just that- See me and Miles here; we didn't realize that this Doc Oct was gonna be slightly more insane than the others-” You ramble, Miles quickly nodding along. 

“And haha, well, one truck lead to another and next thing ya’ now, bam! We got uh… hurt,” A nervous chuckle left your lips. Miguel replies nothing.

“B-but! I covered Miles from the fire! So he only got a couple of bruises, I promise the kid is fine and it wasn't his fault either so let’s just-”

“Enough.” He barks. You practically clamped your mouth shut. 

The doors hisses open again and Gwen comes running in, worry on her face. She sighs in relief as he spots Miles hiding beside you. “Miles! Thank goodness you’re okay!” 

Miguel turns as she runs and wraps her arms around the boy. “You came back so late!”

“I’m sorry Gwen, things got a bit out of control,” Miles pats the girl back reassuringly. “I just got a bit beaten up, nothing I can't handle,” 

Gwen pulls back and grabs the boy's face before turning it left and right and up and down, her eyes scanning like a hawk. She deems it enough as she stops, hands firmly holding Miles’ arms. “You always say that,” She sighs. 

You can't help the small relieved smile on your lips as you watch the two teens catch up with each other before Miguel makes a gesture with his hand.

“Gwen, go take Morales into the infirmary.” He says as he nods to Lyla that popped up on his brace. “And make sure he doesn't get out of bed for the next two days.”

“What?! But it’s barely a scratch-” 

“Now, Morales.” The man stares them down until eventually, Miles relents with a sigh and lets the girl usher him into the Infirmary's direction, the two of them shuffling next to each other, Gwen's arm around Miles. 

You hear something along the lines of ‘detention’ from Gwen as she laughs before the door slides close, leaving you with an enraged lion in its territory. You gulp as Miguel fixes his red eyes on you.

“You. Come with me.” 

And that's how you find yourself walking down the halls of the many living quarters of the compound. You followed silently behind Miguel’s broad shoulders, in any other day you would find it hard to resist not ogling those massive arms, but tonight Miguel was practically a walking beacon of rage. The smallest misstep would make him burst and thats the last thing you want to happen. 

“Miguel, I'm sorry, okay?” You try, catching up to walk beside him. “I promise this will be the last time I’ll come back from a mission late, plus, I won't bring anyone else with me too if I ever do it again. I swear this won't hap-”

His sudden halt catches you off guard and you bump against him. You scratch the bridge of your nose with a slight frown from the impact. The dimly lit hallway made it a slight challenge to read the nameplate but you managed to make out ‘O’Hara’ and with that, your stomach drops.

“Um… Miguel, this isn't my room…” 

The door opens. The room is pitch black. 

Miguel makes his way inside. His red eye glows before he commands; “Sit.” 

Fear brought you to sit on his bed, not a crease in sight which only struck your fear deeper into you. You could hear your heartbeat, terrified for what's to come. The worst thing Miguel could do would probably chew you out in the comfort of his room, away from any possible witnesses, and then maybe take you out of commission for a while as your punishment. 

You gulp as the man sets something beside you. It was a box, hard to make out what it was but it seemed heavy. Miguel clawed and the large hand extends towards you and you screw your eyes shut, hell did you pray to any god that was willing to listen to you so please please please-

“Bring your face closer.” 

Huh?

Cautiously, you open your eyes to Miguel’s face inches away from you, a warm light bathes over his features, making the lines of worry and fear evident. “Let me see your wounds.” 

You blink, once, twice, owlishly, making the man before you sigh and cup your jaw softly. He turns your face to inspect it before he brings his other hand which wipes your fringe away from covering any other possible wounds. 

He hums. “Looks like just scratches.” 

The mystery box turns out to be a first aid kit. Miguel flicks it open and rummages around in it before he pulls a couple of bottles and bandages out. 

“Take off your suit top, we need to treat that burn before it gets worse.” He demands. You cough before awkwardly peeling off what's left of your suit before dropping it on the carpeted floor. You need to get that repaired.

You couldn't bear to meet Miguel's eyes. Not when he’s kneeled in front of you, his usually intimidating body looking small as he’s hunched over. He looks tired, his frown is a mixture of worry and annoyance, but there is something beneath it. Something you don't dare to think about but you know. You always knew. From the first day, you finally managed to see that crack in Miguel’s hardened exterior, you’ve been scared to make another move toward him. Behind this wall of a man, is a heart guarded with spikes and what he has in his eyes right now as he’s wrapping a cooling pad around your arm is something that petrifies you. 

“Next time you’ll be doing missions with me and me only. I won't be assigning you to any other spiders until you learn to take care of yourself,” He huffs, unveiling another roll of bandages.  He pulls at your shoulder which makes you turn slightly. 

"Fucking hell, ¿cómo puedes ser tan descuidado? You run around saving everyone else but who’s going to save you, huh?" He huffs, wrapping the last of the bandage slightly too tight which makes you wince. He notices but does nothing. 

Once again, he holds your chin between his fingers as your gazes suddenly meet. Miguel growls with how you won't meet his eyes, firmly pointed anywhere but into Miguel’s red eyes. He sighs before letting you go as he takes out some ointments. He puts the substance on your cheek and under your slowly blackening eye, then down your jaw where you know a pretty bad bruise taints your skin. You feel his movement slow before his hand rests on your nape, sending jolts of warmth through your body.

“Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate." His voice devastatingly soft. 

Confusion and a steady wave of feelings start at the bottom of your heart, which only worsens as you finally find the courage to look at Miguel. To your surprise, his eyes are wider than usual, pools of crimson oozing with care as he scans your features. His thumb rubs at the base of your skull. “I can't lose my right-hand man.” 

He sighs. “Please, necesito que estés seguro por mí,"

You inhale sharply. Without realizing it, he's practically inches away from you. Your heart races, beats out of your control when Miguel rubs your nape again. 

“Miguel…?” 

A beat passes. Silence. 

Before Miguel growls roughly and promptly stands, taking the med kit with him. He makes his way to what you assume was his wardrobe. Panic rises beside you, making you wave around your hands. “I- Um- Miguel please I didn't mean to- Oof!”

Something was thrown at you. Something soft and large and is this hit shirt and… boxers?! 

“Change your clothes. You can't sleep in those.” Miguel points out, his scowl now a pout on his lips. 

“But-”

“I'm not saying this twice.” He growls before he slides into the bathroom and leaves you in his bedroom along with the pile of his clothes in your arms. 

You slowly look down at what you're holding. Carefully, you slide off what's left of your suit and drop them in a discarded pile before pulling on Miguel's clothes. To no one's surprise, you're practically drowning in the shirt. His boxers barrel fits you and the first goes over your tighs easily. You feel smaller even for your height and stature, but it feels… safe. 

The door of the bathroom slides open to reveal Miguel standing with slightly damp hair as he's drying it off with a towel and in nothing but gray sweats. Something grows within you and it’s definitely something else besides your heart. 

“Ah, you're done,” He glances toward you before setting the towel down neatly. He saunters to the side of his large bed, pulling the covers off before sliding in. An arm keeps the cover slightly open, before he raises an obvious brow.

“Get in here and sleep,” He huffs. 

You jump and quickly slide beside Miguel, careful to keep an inch of a distance. But that was deemed unsuccessful when the man beside you pulled you to his side, and his arm wrapped protectively around your middle which made you drape your hand over his chest. Before you can squirm, he locks his chin over your head with a content sigh. 

Shit, he really is a giant lion. You sigh. 

“Sleep. You need your rest to heal.” Miguel’s voice purrs through you while you're practically glued to his side. You chuckle slightly before pressing a peck just below his jaw.

“You sleep too.” You smile. “Good night Miguel.” 

You hear Miguel hum before he presses his lips to your crown. “Good night.” 

Translations:

how can you be so careless? = cómo puedes ser tan descuidado

Take care, huh? Take care of yourself. = Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate.

I need you to be safe for me, = necesito que estés seguro por mí,

Reblogs are appreciated <3

[bcofl0ve]

okay. hi. home from my little ny trip and feel like i am maybe in a place where i can coherently say the things i need to say. anons are going to remain off for right now because i really don't want to deal with harassment over any number of the things i'm about to say lmao.

but you guys have made having this blog a good fun for thing genuinely mean more to me than i can express. and i don't want you to feel left hanging when you've been nothing but kind to me/its not *your* fault that other people have harassed me into dreading come on here.

a) if they broke up we will know when we know. that is truly, genuinely my only take on it right now. a friend said to me a few weeks ago that she used to be really worried abt how i'd handle them breaking up but worries less now because i've seemed a lot less parasocial/attached with was. a correct observation.

don't get me wrong i still LOVE both of them, i was just ebay hunting yesterday for stuff to add to my austin clippings binder lol. i'd be a little bummed, sure. but i really do think spending the summer in europe/removed largely from Gossip Fandom opened my eyes to needing to be less personally invested in the lives of people i don't know.

the ending of a long-term relationship comes w sucky aspects for all parties even if its mutual and for the better. if they did break up i wish them both the best in navigating such a big life change in the public eye and my ~take~ for right now at least kinda ends there.

b) yes i am still seeing salt cost climbing. if that makes you angry please say the words "i think you need to cancel your vacation/cancel plans you paid for and are looking forward to over the possible breaking up of two celebrities you don't know". and if that sounds like a normal thing to say to someone you need to analyze your parasocial relationship not just with a & k but with *me*. i run a blog you either like or hate and am otherwise a stranger whose decisions should not take up so much rent in your head. me seeing a play by a playwright i have admired for longer than i've liked A or K should not be something i even have to defend. my sister used to live in LA and i loved spending time there as a kid, its city i miss and am excited to go back to.

and as someone that likes kaia i am excited to see someone i like acting in a play by a writer i like. (i did have to change the date im going to later in january bc of school thing lmao- saying that so people don't think i cancelled when i'm not there on the 19th!)

and to perhaps make this deeper than it needs to be it has been almost half a decade since theatre anything has made me excited the way this has. when my original love for theatre was curb stomped by grooming, abuse and trauma i am not going to let something as menial as 'celeb breakup' ruin it for me *again*. literally why would i do that to myself and my own mental health.

which leads me to c) i will be very very honest that the past month or so i have been seriously thinking about deactivating. its a choice ive wrestled over with a heavy broken heart because i put so much time and work and love into this blog. IF, big IF i ever did it wouldn't be on a whim and i'd make sure things like master posts, long posts etc were backed up in the wayback machine because that type of fandom archiving is important to me. one of my biggest regrets w/ deactivating my broadway blog was doing it on a whim and leaving my followers worried and confused. i wouldn't do that to y'all. (and to be clear to my mota oomfs i would NOT be leaving the mota fandom/fic writing, i have a plan to transfer all my writing to a diff blog and start fresh if i did deactivate)

but i think the thing leading me to that thought is that i'm so incredibly burnt out. ive had anons off on here 99% of the time for the past month and all it did was drive people to harass me on my fic blog. even if i did make a separate blog for kaia stuff i know i would just be dealing with constant anon harassment on there. and idk if tumblrs anon blocking feature is broken or the people who harass me are obsessively making burners, but blocking has done about nothing the past few months.

which leaves me with...what options exactly? just never turn anons back on again? even if we got a breakup article right after i posted this i don't think people would ever leave me alone about it. ever.

and i think the thing that's nudging me towards wanting to deactivate is the thought that i can love austin from a mota fandom blog and be happier that way. and the yearning for a complete fresh start that hitting the big red button would give me lmao. but i don't know.

this isn't an announcement im deactivating right NOW by any stretch. i just wanted to be honest about where my head is at. ***though i have always had it in my head that i'm deactivating when i pass the bar exam and start my legal career, if all goes well summer 2026. that moreso for privacy reasons than anything- i want to do crim law and would prefer my clients don't dig around and discover all ~this~. but. i think i've already said that here before?

if you actually read this post all the way through i am kissing you on the forehead for your strength lmao. i mean it from the bottom of my heart when i say i love you guys. i hope this all clarifies my end of everything.

mollie <3

[marblemoovt]

Tipsy Cuddles - John Price/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Fluff with Angst, Reverse Hurt/Comfort

Summary:

You take up John's offer and show up at his door with a bottle of whiskey. Except, he doesn't seem to be doing so well....

------

“Are you ok?” you ask, and he meets your worried gaze.

“What makes you ask that?” John says. The words come out scratchy, and he takes another sip to feel the burn. 

You take the bottle from him and set it on the table. “Because alcohol doesn’t make your eyes red, John,” you whisper. His lips purse into a frown, and he looks away. “Am I moving too fast? Or maybe you realized that this isn’t what you want? Because you can tell me; it’s alright.” 

Note:

This is a direct continuation of this fic, I recommend reading it before this one but it still works as a stand-alone.

I was expecting to dip for another month or two before returning with a fic. But y'all are so fucking sweet. I appreciate all your comments so much!! It gave me enough motivation and inspiration to quickly whip up a part two.

I also was not planning for any angst at all lmao. This was supposed to be really cute and fluffy but I accidentally saddled our boy Price with some heavy stuff.

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

John stumbles out of Rose’s room and shuffles to his own. A little sister. John gave up that dream a long time ago. It shattered the second he held Rose in his arms after scrambling to come home during a deployment and noticed the grim expression on the doctor’s face. He went home two weeks later with only a tiny infant in his arms and a bag of belongings he will never unpack. The dream became nothing more than what it was; a dream. He doesn’t bother turning on the lights, doesn’t want to see his reflection in the mirror anyway.

There’s a drawer in the bedside table—the one at the very bottom—where the handle has fallen off, and the wheels squeak like hell. John traces the wooden edges, jamming his finger into a crack to pry the damn thing open. The drawer stutters amid its screaming, and he has to force it the rest of the way out. He pauses and listens. No signs of activity coming from Rose’s room.

Like clockwork, he takes out the photo album first. John always made fun of her for wanting to document every moment of the journey. Now, these are among the few tangible memories he has left. A reminder that his heart did know how to beat once before it chronically ached. He flips through the pages, every image already burned into his mind, but that does not deter him from taking his time. The fetus in the ultrasounds grows, and her bump becomes more prominent. John keeps flipping until the images are blank and bites his lip because he knows only a third of the album is filled. He wipes the fresh splashes of tears off the laminated pages and puts it away on top of the other photo albums collecting dust.

John knows that he shouldn’t hide this from Rose. It’s not like she doesn’t know, but she never asks about her mother. And yes, that’s not an excuse. He’s aware that it’s his fault for not trying to keep the memory of his late wife alive. But it’s been six years, and he still struggles with how to deal with these feelings, so he doesn’t. He compartmentalizes and forgets. Forgets until he’s lying in bed at 3 am, and the bottom drawer calls his name. Forgets until he’s changing clothes, and the duffel bag in the corner of the closet mocks him.

He runs a rough hand down his face, glancing at the clock. 10:20 pm. John laughs, but it’s bitter and clogs his throat. Of fucking course. Who would be interested in broken goods? He heaves himself off the bed and accepts that he’s better off alone.

That is… until he hears a knock. It’s faint, but his sensitive ears pick up the sound. He’ll deny it if you ask, but he ‘walks’ to the door with quick steps. John turns the handle, and the world isn’t falling apart anymore. You’re standing there with a bottle in hand and a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Got caught up trying to find this,” you say, holding up whiskey. John recognizes the label. It’s a whiskey he’s been dying to get his hands on. Where on Earth did you find a bottle? He doesn’t realize he’s staring until you tap his forehead. “Are you going to invite me in, or should I invite myself while you take in my beauty?”

John stutters, but no coherent words form. Instead, he moves to the side to let you in. He follows you to the living room, where you plop on the sofa and pat the seat beside you. John doesn’t move, feet glued to the rug in the center of the room. “I thought you weren’t coming,” he confesses, and the apple of his cheeks tingle until they’re numb. 

You set the whiskey on the table with a laugh. “And miss out on spending an evening with a dill? Not a chance.” The tips of John’s ears glow red, and he rushes to take a seat. He can feel your gaze, and he tugs at the collar of his sweater. “I really do like you, John,” you say. “I don’t kiss just anybody’s cheek,” John’s shoulders slacken, and the rumblings of a chuckle build up in his chest. “Better?” you ask, taking a swig of whiskey and offering him the bottle.

John accepts, drumming his fingers against the glass as it rests on his lap. “You’re a saint, y’know that?” he says.

“I have my moments,” you shrug. John takes a sip and savours the flavour. Spices coat his tongue, and his tastebuds tingle. The whiskey burns lightly down his throat and sparks the kindling in his chest. He leans into the cushions with a sigh, pleasantly warm. “Good?” you ask.

John turns his head to you, eyes tracing the smile on your face. “Some of the best whiskey I’ve had in ages. Where did you find this?” he asks, wondering if you have personal connections in the alcohol industry. 

“Would you believe me if I said a mysterious stranger sold it to me in an alleyway?” you say. John can already tell by your grin that you’re absolutely bullshitting him. He raises an eyebrow, and you huff. “Ok, ok. I’ll tell you,” and you grab the bottle from him and take a long swig. You take a deep breath and say, “I bought it at the store,” staring him dead in the eyes.

“Darling, I know this specific brand is hard to come by. Forgive me, but you’re a terrible liar,” John muses. 

You laugh and scoot closer to him. “I’ll speak your language then. It’s classified.” Your scent tickles his nose, and he leans into your side. He takes another drink and closes his eyes, letting the fuzz blanket his mind. “Are you ok?” you ask, and he meets your worried gaze.

“What makes you ask that?” John says. The words come out scratchy, and he takes another sip to feel the burn. 

You take the bottle from him and set it on the table. “Because alcohol doesn’t make your eyes red, John,” you whisper. His lips purse into a frown, and he looks away. “Am I moving too fast? Or maybe you realized that this isn’t what you want? Because you can tell me; it’s alright.” 

John shakes his head and feels the whiskey loosen his tongue. The haze in his mind covers his thoughts with an invisibility cloak that allows them to slip through his filter undetected. “Christ, Sweetheart. You’re everything I want. Just don’t….” He pauses and stares at the rug, counting the stitches in each row. “I don’t think I deserve another chance,” and he looks at you with the eyes of a man who gained and lost everything all at once. The corners of his eyes sting, the words blubbering out of his mouth faster than he can stop them. “I’m away for long periods. I can barely take care of my daughter, let alone myself. Darling, what’s there to like about me, hm?” 

John reaches for the whiskey, but you yank it away before it even touches his lips. You screw the lid and set it on the floor far from him. “I don’t know the whole story. I’m sure you want to have this conversation sober, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you say. “You’ll come to learn that I’m incredibly stubborn. So believe me when I say I want to stay and learn more about you and Rose.”

Quiet laughter turns into sobs that wrack his chest. John knows what deception looks like. Has pried intel from countless sealed mouths. He’s aware of all the tics and signs. You aren’t lying, and a part of him wishes you were. Because then it would be so much easier to push you away, for things to remain as they’ve always been,

“Can I hug you?” you ask, fidgeting with your hands in your lap. The silence builds as John stacks one brick on top of another. An invisible barrier that will either shut you out forever or crumble enough to let you in. 

John extends an arm, reducing the wall to rubble, and pulls you into his embrace. His beard scratches against your collarbone and sniffles hiccup by your ear. You bring a hand up and run it through his hair, eliciting a rumble when your fingertips scrape his scalp. 

You squeeze him tight and kiss the side of his temple, murmuring, “I’ve got you.” Those three words make him crumple like a rag doll, leaving you to support his weight. “Did you know, John, that people are fucked up?” He snorts into your shoulder, and you continue with a grin. “The great thing about love is that it’s a choice. So guess what? My fucked up self is choosing to love your fucked up self.”

“You’ve an excellent way with words,” John chuckles wetly. 

“I know. The CIA is begging me to write their cover-up stories.” John laughs, and the vibrations shake your entire body. Tears are leaking from his eyes for a new reason now. “What do you do, John? What’s your rank?” you ask. 

“Captain—what?” John stops when he feels you tremble. 

A sharp bark of laughter escapes your lips. “Nothing. You remind me of another captain whose last name starts with a ‘P.”

John pulls back to look at your face. “How many other captains do you know?” he asks.

“Only the ones Rose has introduced me to,” you say with a shrug. John goes through a mental list of all the other captains he’s met, but not a single match. He opens his mouth, but you parry John’s next question with your own. “You’re responsible for a group of people, right?”

John sighs, but there’s an undeniable curve to his lips. “I’m the ringleader for a load of muppets,” he answers. He wonders what the idiots are up to right now without adult supervision.

“Sounds like you enjoy their company. So you have Rose and your muppets. That’s a lot of people to look out for,” you say.

John shrugs. “It’s my job to take care of them,” and he believes it wholeheartedly. He would die for Rose and his team if it ever came to that. 

You bring a hand up and cradle his cheek. He leans into your touch, losing himself in your eyes, mesmerized by the adoration reflected in them. “And who takes care of you, John? Who makes sure you’re ok?” 

“Well, I was going to put an ad in the paper, but I keep forgettin’,” John quips.

You playfully shove his face away. “Here I was, thinking you were going to offer me the position,” you tsk.

John pushes you onto your back, caging you between his arms. “Oh, it’s a rigorous interview process,” he boasts.

You smirk and poke his chest. “I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

“Anythin’?” John murmurs, shortening the gap between you two. His warm breath fans across your face. His eyes dart to your tongue that swipes across your bottom lip. He lowers himself another inch, noses brushing against each other.  

“Anything. Now can I kiss you?” you ask.

“Reckon I’ll die if you don’t,” John whispers.

“Maybe you’ll die anyway,” you retort.

“Prove it,” John says. You grab him by the collar of his shirt and crash your lips together. At first, it’s all teeth and tongue clashing—desperate. But it softens into deeper kisses, an intimate mapping of each other’s mouth until lungs burn for air. John pulls away with a groan, resting his forehead against yours. “Definitely gonna kill me if you keep that up.” He shivers at the beaming smile on your face. You look so proud of yourself. He wants to bite and kiss your lips until they’re swollen. But the alcohol is starting to make him drowsy. John pecks your lips and sits up. Your arms remain locked around his neck, so he pulls you with him. He chuckles when you tighten your hold. “You can let go of me, Love.”

Your voice is muffled by his sweater. “I have to make sure you don’t sneak any more whiskey.”

John hums, “What makes you think you can stop me?”

You raise your head and stare at him as if he’s forgotten how you nearly killed him with your mouth alone. Bringing your lips to his ear, you whisper in a low tone, “I can be quite persuasive.” He shudders, and you chuckle darkly. You notice the clock on the wall and sigh. “It’s late. I should go.”

John refuses to let you go, not this time. He repositions himself onto his back so that you’re straddling him now, and his hands grip your waist. “Stay?” he pleads, watching you with wide eyes.

You smile and nod. “Ok, but only because you’re comfortable and a natural heater.” 

Relief unwinds the tension between his shoulders. “Your pillow awaits, Darling,” John teases, patting his chest. You roll your eyes but lay down and cuddle him.

The two of you talk late into the night. John doesn’t remember when he falls asleep, only that you snuggle into him when he tightens his arms around your waist. For the first time in a few years, John sleeps for hours uninterrupted. 

The rustling of fabric rouses him awake. He winces at the sunlight streaming from the windows and tries to get a few more minutes of sleep. Soft cotton envelopes his body in pleasant warmth. His eyes snap open when a small voice whispers harshly into his ear.

“Honestly, Daddy. You need to try to be more romantic. You let them sleep on the couch and without a blanket!” Rose admonishes, adjusting the blanket she brought. John lifts his head to see you’re still asleep in his arms, face buried in the crook of his neck. He untangles your hair with his fingers and plants a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s Saturday; I’m going back to bed. I want waffles for breakfast,” she says, walking back to her room. “And try not to be loud, Daddy. I’m six, remember?”

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

You know I had to do it to 'em with repurposing that line. I wanted so bad to make that the summary snippet, but I can't show off the best cards in my deck or they'll lose their wow factor.

Single dad Price steals my heart every time and I think I'm obsessed with him now. Like I keep getting random headcanons.

Exhibit A: Rose catches a fever and John paniks, so he has to rush to your apartment for help.

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Reblogs are appreciated!

[ladysansana]

favorite problematic ships with woc? Can be any type of media

Anon I got so excited when I received ask then I realized I had to dig really hard into the core of my memories to for problematic ships with women of color. Media DEFINITELY need to do better in this regard, but I am absolutely responsible for engaging in more stories with WoC in fucked up dynamics.

Maybe I can come up with more if I give it more time but, I've sit with this ask long enough it's become procrastination at this point. So here you go, anon, and if anyone has any problematic ships with WoC that you wanna share please do! <33

Also, spoilers ahead, because I do wanna make a mini ramble for each pair, but it's all from my hazy memory (+ wikipedia) so <(")

Not in any particular order, and wall of text ahead:

Kijung x Kiwoo - Parasite (2019)

Problematic trope: Incest

Cunning and quick witted siblings from a poor family who finessed their way into a rich and snobby family's trusted staff team. My fav thing about them is that despite being the older brother, Kiwoo really acknowledges Kijung's immense talent, and aura lol that scene where he served her champagne when she was in the rich family's bathtub??? And he said she looked like she belonged there hello??? Sir even if her body was covered by bath foam you were still CASUALLY serving her champagne in a fucking BATHTUB???!!! SIR???

Also I have GOT to recommend @thefudge's Kijung x Kiwoo fic on ao3 the fact that it's the only fic in the fandom and it's a work of art. To quote Mr. Cullen, "my personal brand of heroine" <3

2. Shuri x Everett - Black Panther (2018)

Problematic trope: age gap, barely of age

I cannot believe I almost forgot about them considering they had me in a CHOKEHOLD back in the day (and still got a special place in my heart). One thing I love about the older man/younger woman/girl dynamic is when the older one is in awe of the younger's talent, and the younger one derives joy and even validation, especially validation, from that. So when Shuri sparked with excitement when she revealed to Everett the truth about Wakanda and its brilliance ... yeah ( ཀ ʖ̯ ཀ) And obviously when she called him another broken white boy to fix and colonizer that got me lmao.

3. Dream x Death - The Sandman (2022)

Problematic trope: Incest

Godly siblings who appreciate and confide in one another with a touch of opposite attracts: he's so fucking brooding while she's warm and radiant lmao. Death brings him comfort, but she also calls him out on his BS and makes him understand their purpose, as Gods, is to love and serve humans (or at least that's what I rmb it's been 2 years since I watched the show). Also I love that Death is presented in such a loving and gentle light <3 subverting expectation and what not <3

Also their aesthetic fucking matches <3

4. Elphaba x The Wizard - Wicked (2024)

Problematic trope: (potential) surrogate father - daughter, age gap, manipulation

(kind of mad I can't find an HQ pic of these 2 in the same frame yet but hey dont they look like a power couple here <3)

Imagine being a young woman alienated all your life for the color of your skin. Then one day you're recognized for your hidden magical abilities and you're validated by this charming powerful older man whom you projected your father figure role onto because your father sucks and hates you while said powerful older man also pretty much said he'd love to be your father figure. Then you realized the powerful older man was a fraud who just wanted to use your power to hurt the people you cared about. So you went against that powerful older man, and he made sure you'd be ocstracized from society for good. For he fears you, yet so in awe of you.

Also you sang your heart out about yearning to be recognized by him and be a pair with him.

5. Rose x The Corinthian x Dream - The Sandman (2022)

Problematic trope: underage, child murder attempt i guess lol

Teenage girl being hunted down by both the villain and the hero only to realize that the villain wants her alive to take down the hero while the hero wants you dead because your power leads to the end of humanity (something in that line, again, 2 years). Peak YA brother <3 I don't necessarily ship them as an ot3 (but I might if I read a really good fic), I'm just really fascinated by their dynamic and how their narratives intertwine, how the lines between good and evil blurs. Something something questions about morals. Featuring a black girl being pursued by 2 hot older dudes <3

6. Haeyi x Chiyeol - Crash Course in Romance (2023)

Problematic trope: underage, teacher - student

After finding out that Nam Haeyi was unfairly disqualified from his class in the private education institute despite passing the exam because a rich parent stole that spot for her son, nation-renowned math instructor Choi Chiyeol decided to tutor her in private, which he's contractually not allowed to do and would end up getting him eaten alive by the rich parents paying for the institute he works at. There was this scene where Haeyi asked Chiyeol why he was risking his career to tutor her, something like that, and I believed he said that he was simply righting the wrong that was her unfair disqualification. He knew that she was a brilliant student that deserved his teaching, so she should study hard to make his time and risk worth it, or something. That, really got to me.

I know this is a list of problematic ships but teacher student has a specific place in my heart and I appreciate it when the teacher has purely good intention with the student.

7. Haeyi x Donghee - Crash Course in Romance (2023)

Problematic trope: underage, kidnapping lol

This one is a straight up crackpair I admit. I mostly ship them because I find both the actors very attractive and that whole kidnapping thing lol. But who knows maybe there's a way to approach their dynamic that makes sense to their character (but then again I find the villain twist with Donghee fucking stupid and my older brother agrees lol so maybe I should just go full on make believe land and rewrite the whole backstory for Donghee. I have to be the one to make the thing I want to happen happen huh).

8. Naru x Taabe - Prey (2022)

Problematic trope: incest

When your older brother represents who you wish to become but also a reminder of why you cannot, at least not yet. Okay that was purposefully vague because I admit, I haven't finished the movie. I was watching it with my friends on Discord but it was so lagging that we had to quit, but we both enjoyed the movie at that point and thought it was very well made, also Predator universe with Native American settings go so hard. So I'll definitely continue where I left off, one day hopefully.

There was this one scene where Taabe discovered that Naru was secretly following him and his crew to the woods because she wanted to be hunters like them. They disapproved of her at first, but Taabe let her joined them eventually. My memory is a bit hazy but that was the gist of it and it really got me. Either Taabe did believe in her potential or he was giving her special treatment because she was his little sister, or a bit of both perhaps <3

9. Miko x Rom - Mieruko-chan (2018 - present)

Problematic trope: underage

This panel was so fucking funny. And the thing is their dynamic is a lot less weird in context, you decide whether it's a good or bad thing. I just think it's fun to see Miko as a highschool girl being cursed with the power to see ghosts and there's this older guy, probably in his 20s, who appears to be a creepy fraud but turns out to be pretty powerful with his supernatural abilities and was pretty helpful towards her during that battle arc (if I rmb correctly). And he takes an interest in her. Last time I read Mieruko-chan was when she was in hospital and he showed up to save her from some ghost or sth and he was really gentle about it.

10. Karen x Sam - Mistresses (2013)

Problematic trope: age gap, fucking dead dad's therapist/mistress lmaoooo

Oh I remember being 14 when I saw this show on TV and fell in love with Karen and her dynamic with Sam. Possibly my first age gap older woman younger man ship ever <3 Karen is a stunningly flawed character who cares about her friends and patients but commits the malpractice of having an affair with her married patient. Then went on to have an affair with his son after he died lol. Then Sam, devastated by his father's dead, seeks comfort in his former therapist and fell in love with her because she's so brilliant and beautiful and caring and all that. Pretty sure there was some mommy issue going on too considering that Elizabeth - his mom - was ... troubled, to say the least. What a shame he died at the end of the season to save Karen (I did warn you that spoilers were coming) but tbh as long as they admit their feelings for each another I see it as a win so I can live with that <3 Also Kim Yunjin is so fucking beautiful oh my god

11. Shen Mei x Jason - Resident Evil: Infinite Darkness (2021)

Problematic trope: he fucking snapped her neck

"Problematic" is loosely used here because they're not *that* problematic but if you intepret it as misogyny against Asian women then it counts so </3 I'll reuse my description from my Spotify playlist for them: "It's about the alluring appeal of shared trauma, height + size difference and co-conspired revenge". Just, the fact that they bonded over Shen Mei's little brother sacrificing himself to save Jason's troop, then went on to co conspire to take over the man responsible for this, killing so many along the way.

Till this day I'm still bitter at the fact that they let Jason kill Shen Mei so brutally while sparing Leon's life to loosely tie the plot together (misogyny against Asian women, but I digress </3). If you want to rid both of them from the RE universe just let her kill him to save everyone else, makes a lot more sense, and this isn't just a shipper's perspective there are non shippers commenting on this, but I digress </3

Also my Meison edit is still my pinned post for my blog <3 One day I'll change it once I finally arrange my blog better but for now they're here to say

So, that's the end of my list! I didn't expect it to turn into a wall of text but, if you've made it to the very end I truly appreciate you and I had so much fun doing this <3

[writingmochi]

! "untitled #3: writer's edition" tag game !

credits to that anon who gave an ask on @/fairyofshampgyu's blog + idk what to name it so i just do that instead lmao

rules: write your favorite thing you’ve written, the least favorite, and one you think deserved more hype! then also post a screenshot of your recently saved on pinterest (just so it looks pretty)

tagged by: smiles @boba-beom! you've been posting so much more fics i haven't keep up yet :") but thanks for tagging me! this is fun!

another episode of lissie, the breaker of the chain. also warning: profanity, i will fucking curse + don't mind me expanding it. still creds to that anon though. i freaking adore you for asking that

part 1. favorite work(s) i've written (aka @/writingmochi staple and a must-read for people who finds my blog for the first time [welcome, new followers! hope you enjoy them!]):

crossroads, a enhypen jay one-shot

still is the proudest fic i've ever written. very studio ghibli (according to @/jeongwins) and also very movie-like. @/orochxi melodramas got me in the feels to write this but this is more wholesome that viv's memento mori-coded fics lmao... fun fact: this is almost a nct chenle fic inspired by parasite (2019) hence the fish-out-of-water scenario

troubled pixies, a txt taehyun one-shot two-shot

definitely my favorite character-building-wise. the fact that i have to figure out not only mc + taehyun but also the sisters, their partners, and the sisters' parents' characteristics here is so complicated yet fun, especially how intricate it is. also currently my longest one-shot i've written (52k) that tumblr hates it so much, it has to be divided into two :") (also, this is one of @/boba-beom's fav fics. i've successfully infected her with 80s/90s songs hehehe) + istg mc here is a definite lux lisbon if she live in 90s instead of the 70s, complete with the chainsmoking and her taste in 90s alt songs

time wave, a txt yeonjun series

now, this is my favorite world-building-wise. i made haeyang this intricate place and setting with its supernatural aspect only some people get (you will know when you read). before writing this, i know i had to make a life is strange (2013) inspired au because it is one of my favorite story-based games of all time. and i’m proud that it kinda becomes its own self especially with my own twists on it. hope you are ready because the [redacted] spin-off will be posted around october! fun fact: this was supposed to be written for stray kids han

part 2. least favorite work i've written:

a story of two broken hearts, a enhypen jake series

i am still proud of this even though it is my least favorite!!!! why, you ask? because this is the first building block of my blog as a whole which is then continue with time wave's chapters as i honed my writing skill. it is the shortest one-shot currently (at 9k though which is still considered long-fic) but you could definitely sense my style even with that. and i don't wanna change it any other way... :]

part 3. work(s) that deserve more hype:

smirch, a txt and enhypen series

I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD! THIS IS ALSO ONE OF MY FAV FIC TO WORLD-BUILD AND I'M SO SAD THIS DOESN'T DESERVE MORE HYPE ABOUT IT! i made a social media au style of the characters' intro/profile and i also allow you guys to talk to them if you want and help with the world-building. please make their world grow so it can also motivate me to write this series! + this is a naughty teen series but not euphoria-esque, if you like skins uk especially gen 1 with tony, cassie, and a little bit of effy, please consider reading this :")

isobel, a txt soobin one-shot

this deserves more hype because tumblr let me down by not putting it in the tags aaaaaaaaaaaaa i re-post this 10 fucking times istg and ughhhh D: D: if you like magical realism or any of the genres written at the top, please consider reading it too

pizzeria run, a enhypen sunoo one-shot

the more time this fic is available on my blog, i have accumulated a few thoughts: (1) enhablr peeps are horny and like smut more than any other creative writing genre; (2) enhablr peeps don't read sunoo fics like they read heeseung/sunghoon/jungwon/niki's; and (3) enhablr peeps don't like anything except for romance. and that is sad to me because there are so many writers who write any topic other than romance or smut that is as great. so, if you want something different or if you like horror, do consider reading this one :D

part 4. recently saved pins on pinterest:

all of them are smirch post-episode updates! since the last entry is jay's, most of them are what happened to jay and mc after jay's episode (and one for heeseung's post-episode update). more pins will come soon as i make my moodboard for a few of my fics public!

tagging: my fellow writer mutuals @orochxi @impuritywritings @tyunlatte @heart2beom, my favorite seonghwa ateez writer @tenelkadjowrites and any other writers who want to join!

p.s. if someone tags me this tag game again when i've posted ateez fics, I'll definitely include one of them in here!

[monstersinthecosmos]

I am sooo happy I sent that ask!! Your reply was everything I could have wished for and more. I didn’t know anything about the VC universe (I did see the movie adaptation as a kid, but all I could remember were the ~vibes), and now I might actually want to check out the books. I mean I can’t believe how much of it is canon LOL, traumatized kinky asexual vampires wtf? sign me up??? Which book(s) of the series would you recommend to me? :o

In the meantime, I will DEFINITELY be giving your VC fics a try, thank you so much for the pointers!!! I’m already weak just reading your reply, esp. that parallel of post-disaster Armand and Marius being kind of like an AU where Shiro *does* give up on Keith - that actually broke me. A lot of what I love about your fics is how you characterize Keith so realistically and in a way that’s meaningfully informed by his upbringing/subsequent abandonment issues and that’s a thrill to read because, well, it’s just good writing - but also because it makes so much sense, not just abstractly but in a very real and personal way. And while the ~relatability~ of it all makes for a super intense reading experience, it can also be weirdly and sometimes incredibly cathartic imo - which is one of the reasons why I think I keep revisiting your fics (sorry if tmi LOL 😭). But!! In the case of Sheith it more or less all works out in the end because, like you said, it’s such a wholesome ship and they love and prioritize each other so much that (as a reader) they’re kinda like a safe space, delectably complete with all the angst and hurt and fuckedupness of their circumstances/selves (you know, for flavor). However, thinking about a timeline where it does NOT all more or less work out, well that’s kinda super heartwrenching! But yummy? And I kinda can’t wait to get into it but I’m also genuinely scared for my heart LMAO. Anyway I’m sorry for rambling!!! With your permission I will definitely come back and scream about Sheith and vampires because I sorta already am lol.

Re: the teaser xmgdknfnrmsmgdk I can’t even gather enough brain cells to form coherent sentences, I’m just squealing and awaiting my resurrection I guess. Thank you sooo so so much! I got so excited I haven’t even been able to finish reading it 🫣😳😵😵😵

!!!!! Thank you again for such a thoughtful and delicious response! <3

Dgahskjdl g GOSH THANK YOU AGAIN

So this post got really long I’m so sorry asdghkads  TLDR: I recommend all of them but I also don’t LMAO and you can skip around and won’t be confused but it will spoil stuff. This is a LOADED QUESTION.

It’s wild like I was thinking about the fic i could stop dreaming and also just in general AGAIN IF WE CAN TALK ABOUT COMMON SHEITH TROPES/FANON like I’ve read many S8 fix-its where Keith is drifting around and he’s just like so cold and broken and empty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And that’s how Armand feels to me! Even a fic like heart nailed open where Keith is just so fucking empty! Or SOURCE DECAY??????? Like I think there’s tons of Sheith AUs or S8 fics where Keith is like Depressed Guy Keith and !!!!!! God it fucks me up lol. Armand is kinda like if Depressed Guy Keith was also like a 500 year old fucking weirdo.

And like BECAUSE they’re vampires and they’re immortal they’re sort of always coming in and out of each other’s lives so like there’s always a hypothetical future where they can work it out. Like i could stop dreaming is about them working it out, right? And what it would take to heal that injury. And there’s a lot of stuff in canon where these characters commit absolute fucking atrocities to each other and still manage to work it out and I think it’s again just an exercise in empathy and asking if we can still deserve love when we’ve fucked up. The characters have CENTURIES to get over stuff (and some of them STILL DON’T LOL) but sometimes they do. Famously & without spoiling too much of IWTV, Armand does something pretty fucking atrocious to Louis and they still have a long relationship and still love each other very much!!!

But ON THE QUESTION OF WHICH BOOKS, jfc hold my beer

I think in Sheith you see people like almost universally dismiss S8; the only fics I ever see of it really are like just gratuitous whump or fix-its LOL which is valid. And VC has FIFTEEN FUCKING BOOKS and you could honestly ask ANY fan in VC which books “count” and which books are skippable and I think everyone has a different answer.

I also think you can read them out of order and there’s always a little bit of exposition to catch you up so you won’t be lost; the only downside is that you’ll get spoiled on the previous book. For example, if you jumped in and read Armand’s book first, it would make sense, but it would spoil what happened at the end of the book before it.

Also to get the movies & show out of the way because it’s faster than committing to fifteen books:

The 1994 movie is a pretty solid adaptation; you can tell they condensed some details for time or whatever but it’s pretty faithful. There’s also the show that came out last year which is …………….. not so faithful lol. The show also heavily focuses on Lestat & Louis which is the juggernaut ship of the fandom but they’re also like the missionary position of the fandom so who the fuck cares lol. (Loustat fans lurking in this extremely niche post I am so sorry, I'm kidding ilu LMAO it's just not my thing!) And tbh the show wrote Armand & Daniel’s characters SO POORLY it like absolutely killed any motivation I had to continue watching so as an Armand stan I can’t really recommend it but it’s kinda like silly and fun if you don’t take it too seriously. And tbh if this entire fact finding mission is to understand VC more, the show literally changes EVERYTHING; it changes the time period, it changes the lore, it changes the story, it changes the character ages, etc. Basically it just kept the names lol. It's a completely different canon so I think even show fics & book fics aren't compatible either.

There’s also a movie of Queen of the Damned from 2002 which is like SO BAD LMAO but also silly fun. It’s a really bad adaptation but I’d put it in between the movie and the show. Marius is in it and the characterization is really strange LMAO. Armand is an extra.

The thing about VC is that it’s very sort of like non-linear and nontraditional storytelling. Most of the books are narrated by Lestat but several of them are narrated by random other people, and a lot of times the same story is retold through other people’s POVs. Like you get the story about Marius & Armand in three different books and each version is a little different because everyone has a different perspective. And regarding reading out of order and having spoilers, I do think it often creates like a suspense vs surprise element because we circle back and revisit the same stories so many times; you might get a spoiler and read a book knowing that a certain thing is going to happen and there’s still the tension of waiting for it to happen haha. Like when I mentioned the cult raids Marius’s house—you learn about that in Book 2 so you read Armand’s book later going into detail about his life and you’re just SWEATING because you know it’s coming. AND THEN YOU READ ABOUT IT IN MARIUS'S BOOK AND YOU'RE JUST DEVASTATED ONCE MORE.

I will say that for me I always recommend just fucking read them lol. Just read all of them. LOL!! But they’re weird and like, you’re gonna hate some of them, but I don’t think you can take someone’s word for it on Tumblr, it must be experienced. But I do understand that it’s a lot of material to get through and so I can give a fair cheat guide I think.

Most fans agree that the first three books (“The Trilogy”!) are solid and worth reading. Those are Interview with the Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, and The Queen of the Damned. IWTV is like this gloomy gothic tome about Louis’s life that started this whole thing and was written as a conversation about grief because Anne Rice’s daughter had died. It absolutely reads like a book someone writes about their daughter dying and it’s REALLY beautiful but it’s also a bit dense at times. If you’re put off by the vibe IT GETS EASIER when Lestat shows up because he literally bursts into the series like Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way ready to like tell you how blonde he is and how he’s gonna fuck everyone’s lives up. The books are still very heavy on existential questions and angst and grief but the text gets a bit lighter and super absurd LOL.

The first three also establish the universe and lore, though, so I think it would give you a pretty solid foundation to understand that type of stuff.

After the trilogy the books just go off the rails like there’s a few about Lestat having stupid adventures and doing dumb shit, there’s a few that cross over with Anne Rice’s witch series (so add three more book so if you truly wanted to read all of them!), then Anne Rice went back to the church and stopped writing vampires so there’s a huge gap, and then she quit the church again and returned LMAO. There’s a final trilogy she wrote before she died that are like, not the heaviest reading and they’re just kinda like silly good times with lots of Easter eggs and fan service. I feel good about the final trilogy being how it ended, just really silly times about them trying to use iPhones and shit, completely wild.

As far as ARMAND CONTENT THOUGH.

Armand does feature heavily in the trilogy so that’s also a good Armand foundation. And it’s REALLY FUN because he shows up in IWTV as sort of a chill mentor to Louis, but then in TVL you get the story about how Lestat met him when he was still in the cult and he was a feral little monster!!! And I love the duality of how Lestat and Louis describe him!!! It’s framed as unreliable narration a lot of the time because like Lestat’s resentment & Louis’s respect for Armand absolutely color the way they describe him, but idk like 100 years go by in between the two meetings so you also see a lot of character growth and see how Armand is doing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God. My heart.

Anne Rice also very often uses like texts inside texts so like, IWTV literally is an interview with a vampire where the bulk of the book is in quotes as dialogue LOL and then in other books you often meet a character who will talk for like 40 pages at a time to tell a story. So in TVL when Lestat meets Armand, Armand takes over for a chapter and tells the story of his life, and then later he meets Marius and Marius ALSO tells the story of his life.

QOTD is a modern story (modern in the 1980s when it was written haha) about how the whole vampire world has to deal with Lestat’s bullshit and they all come together for a common cause. This book features the little novelette about Armand & Daniel as one of the chapters!! It’s so good!! (The chapter is called The Devil's Minion and basically if you needed to understand Armand & Daniel you could just read that one chapter and that's basically it bc then it goes to shit!!! Not to spoil anything but also don't get your hopes up about like heaps and heaps of ship content because there isn't any lmfao fml)

It also features Marius and Armand reuniting with each other after 500 years!!!!!!!! HEARTBREAKING! It’s really good and very preposterous but the writing is so lush and takes itself so seriously you kinda forget that it’s preposterous.

Armand has a POV book later in the series, it’s called The Vampire Armand, it details his life as a human and some of his early years as a vampire with Marius. IT’S SORT OF LIKE A LONG EXTENDED VERSION OF HIS CHAPTER IN TVL.  

I do want to say that regarding the BDSM and whatnot that I mentioned; this book is quite controversial because there’s not good BDSM etiquette LOL and like part of the genius of this book is that it can be read as abuse, even when Armand isn’t setting out to tell you the story of how he was abused. I have a lot of thoughts about this because Anne Rice was also an erotica writer and her erotica books were all noncon BDSM; I WROTE ABOUT IT HERE I DON’T WANT TO GET INTO IT NOW but I think depending how people go into this book they either see the kink & sex stuff as explicit abuse OR you can read it as like, fantasy from a porn writer. As a Sheith fan I’m going to assume you’re not that sensitive lol. (But also por que no los dos, that's the flavor baby!)

Personally I think you could read this book as a standalone and like, it’ll be a little whacky without context, but I think I’ve given you a lot of context. It’s basically about his sad sad life, the religious trauma, and all the freaky sex he had. (Also just so you’re not disappointed, the sex isn’t graphic haha but he’ll be like “And then I went to the brothel and they licked honey off my nipples and I came home and Marius sucked my dick in the bathtub” but not like crazy sex scenes.)

Marius also has a POV book called Blood & Gold and it’s my favorite in the series!! IT’S MARIUS’S LONG EXTENDED VERSION OF HIS TVL CHAPTER. I think it’s the one that handles IMMORTALITY the best; the other books often focus on a short period of time or a specific incident and don’t often span someone’s ENTIRE life. IWTV spans Louis’s entire life but he’s only like 200 years old. Marius is 2,000!!!! He’s from the Roman Empire!! So like it’s really exciting to me to read about his whole life and all the eras he lived through!!!!!!!!!!!!

In his book you also get a few chapters about his time with Armand and it breaks my heart!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There’s also a third secret option which is the book Pandora which isn’t part of the main series; VC is like actually 13 books and 2 side books? LOL So Pandora is one of the side books. But she was the first vampire that Marius made and they were lovers for like 200 years. This book to me feels like Anne Rice had a lot of leftover historical research and wanted to park it somewhere so a lot of the text is her talking about history stuff but there’s really great Marius content here and Marius/Pandora is one of my fav ships.

A lot of the fandom are more into the original trilogy and the Lestat/Louis content but I’m all about Marius so I’m into the DARK TRIAD of The Vampire Armand/Blood & Gold/Pandora. This to me is the more interesting section of the series but it’s an unpopular opinion so don’t take my word for it.

Other than that I’d also say Memnoch the Devil is my absolute least favorite VC, I think it’s so weird and boring lol but there’s some absolutely incredible Armand stuff in it and the stuff Armand does in this will be spoiled immediately if you check out Pandora or TVA. All in all it’s like idk 10 fucking pages of Armand LOL so if you got an ebook you could probably word search him. BUT YKNOW WHAT? Again don’t take someone’s word for it from Tumblr because like I find this book very weird and boring because it’s the most religious and I was raised atheist; there are people who were raised religious and say this one is their favorite. So what the fuck do I know!

Marius & Armand & Daniel are all in the final trilogy as well if you make it that far. Daniel is sort of always shuffled to the side because Anne Rice didn't care about him so like every time Daniel shows up I like feast on the breadcrumbs LOL but I'm glad to get some context about how he's doing and what's going on with his life.

ANYWYA I’M NOT SURE IF THIS ANSWERS THE QUESTION OR MAKES IT MORE CONFUSING LOL but ! ?!

They’re very weird books, they’re also kinda outdated and racist, but very queer, beautiful prose, incredible characters. They were my first hyperfixation that I can never seem to shake even when I’ve done all the work to dismantle all the ways they’re problematic and imperfect, it’s just yknow sometimes something gets its claws in you LOL. And I go out and explore other fandoms and still always come back to Marius and Armand and Daniel lol. I say that to say I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t like them LOL but don’t judge me if you give it a shot and you’re like “what the fuck is this”

I just think Armand is like the most incredible character of all time okay!

SORRY FOR THIS VERY LONG REPLY LOL love you, patience yields focus!

[yomogi-mogi-mochi]

Pygmalion (IV)

Pairings: Rook/ (Pygmalion) Reader // Idia/Reader (Platonic)

Summary: You were frequently told that your career as a renowned sculptor did not match your dull and less than colorful personality. With your cybernetic hands, you carve the lives and deaths of those long gone‒ producing pieces which have been held in both technical and emotional high regard, dubbing you with the title “Pygm.AI.lion” despite your human heart and brain. When you accidentally still the usually flamboyant archer into silence after he comes across you working in your atelier‒ you find that you’ve become a victim to one of his ceaseless stalkings. Though, you’ve been prey long enough to know how hunt the huntsman himself.

Notes: I've been reading more of Song of Achilles and I'm sobbing. Help lol

Sorry updates have been slow. I've been working between fics‒ I have an Orpheus inspired Vil fic coming out soon-ish??? We'll see how my creativity is fairing after completing this chapter lmao I can feel myself burning out as we speak. Short chapter but I have big things coming next chapter

Comments and kudos always appreciated ヽ(●´ε｀●)ノ

CW: Hints of depression?? Mention of death. Not really much else except bad French oh my god it’s so so bad

AO3 Link Here.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 (Here) // Part 5 // Part 6

Masterlist

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Grief anchored you to the ground for minutes? Hours? Days? You weren't sure. Your sense of time had been long broken when you separated from the rhythm of human life‒ and you would let yourself rot for however long you wished, knowing‒ painfully‒ that it would not matter how many more centuries you stayed harbored to that misery, as it would just circle back to the same emptiness. But you knew it was long enough to warrant a visit from Idia of all people, who examined your arm with a careful eye.

"Seems fine now. Your Orpheus system is just lagging because you haven't upgraded your physical body in its entirety for a while.” He let your hand go, falling limp into your lap. “I can whip up something quick‒"

"It's fine." You tried to say it as neutrally as you could, but it came out strained and hoarse instead. Porcelain teeth grazed the insides of your mouth, gathering saliva in your mouth to fix the dryness in your throat. "I'll be alright, little flame." You corrected.

"Ortho misses you, you know."

"Is that so?" You clenched your fist, testing its movements. "It'll pass."

Idia pushed a stiff breath past his lips to release his growing frustration. "Hah? Sorry‒ what? 'It'll pass?'"

"Yes, it will."

A violent vermillion licked the tips of his hair. "Be so serious right now (Name)." He stood suddenly to his full height, knocking the wooden stool behind him. "You're finally free and this is what you are now?"

He was nearly three feet taller than your sitting height. It would have shook a bit before to see the difference from his small stature during his childhood, and now at the cusp of his adulthood, but it didn’t now. You challenged him with an empty gaze, cold as splintering ice. "And what am I now?"

"You know what I mean."

“I’m not quite sure. Enlighten me.”

"I know it's not simple.” He began. His chest heaved with desperate, slow breaths‒ you could tell that he wasn’t used to raising his voice. There’s a slight pain that made you squint your eyes. “Ortho reminded me that you need to value your heart, as much of a fault in human programming it is. You taught me that first, you know.” If an answer was expected at that time, you did not give it. “If you keep cornering yourself into what S.T.Y.X tried to make of you, you’ll never actually be free from them.”

There was a familiarity in this conversation that slumbered somewhere in your hazy memories, that prompted you to answer as automatically as the reflexes programmed within your bionic muscles.

“You don’t know me.”

Idia’s sudden strength almost surprised you when he picked you up by the scruff of your collar, face bright from the orange flames that flickered onto his face. "No‒ don't you dare‒"

"I'm not interrupting something, am I?"

The door opens wide, revealing Rook with an amused stare. You were sure you locked it‒ but everything seemed to blur together in your head.

"...No." Idia's hands left your collar, letting you fall solidly onto your chair. You slumped into yourself, turning to your drafting table to keep pretending like you were busy like when Idia had first entered.

"Just…think about it, please?" He says quietly, turning away to leave. You couldn’t bring yourself to nod, or shake your head‒ unsure if who he was talking about was truly the one implanted in your mechanical body. So you merely stared at the bare paper, bent and wrinkled from the several days you had spent laboring over its blankness.

“A spat with the Ignihyde house warden? Now that’s a sight to behold. One could only imagine what you have done to prompt such a response.”

“I was being cruel.” You answered‒ almost a warning, a violence to fend him off. That fire felt seasoned in your throat, perhaps you had someone else’s memories deep down that had spat the same wickedness from it.

Rook tried again. "Critique is not quite the same without you."

You felt your voice echo in the hollowness of your body, ringing in your ears. "Really."

"Yes‒ no one appreciates or loves beauty quite like you do." He shakes his head. "As Le chasseur d'amour‒ I find it simply pitiful that I am unable to be in the presence of your masterful critiques anymore."

"I don’t love beauty‒ they were just my observations."

"Ah but I know it‒ I feel it!" He exclaims, pacing between statues bearing foreign faces. "You love beauty most of all‒ Maître d’Ivoire, is it not what has pushed you for all these centuries?"

You evaded his last statement, turning your face sour at the thought of even contemplating what truly had been dragging you through the centuries. "Knowing and feeling are two different things."

"Oh?"

"Knowledge does not require sacrifice. Feeling does." Something deep was swelling inside you, which plunged your voice into a quicker pace. You weren't sure what it was, but it singed more than the archaic violence in your throat. "Knowledge is obsession‒ there is nothing you just give to obtain it. Feeling‒ however‒ is love, it is giving a precious part of yourself to make room for something, someone, whatever." You stumbled over your sentences, urging you to bite your lip to quiet yourself.

"Hm. Then in that case I do not know which one beauty is for me." His hair sways as he turns towards you again. "This is so like you‒ Maître d’Ivoire. You make me question new possibilities. Tell me‒ what do you think it is for me?"

"Hunter of love, you say?"

"Oh, vous parlez ma langue?"

"I lived in the City of Flowers, I speak a bygone version of it."*

"You're from there?"

“Je viens de nulle part.” I am from no where, you dismissed with a quick tongue. "As a hunter‒ do you truly care if it's love or obsession? I imagine it doesn't matter as long as you're fed."

He thinks. "Hm. I suppose it doesn't. But I would like to think I love it.”

“If you merely think of it then you do not love it. Beauty is but knowledge to you. When you love it‒ you feel it, and let it feel you‒ unravel you, break you if you stay long enough.”

The smile began to falter from his lips. Cruel, you knew it. But you had warned him, hadn’t you? The words didn’t stop from your mouth. “Obsession is young, it takes, it conquers. It is tethered to ephemerality, and therefore is the brightest, the most beautiful. But it devours itself eventually. To love is pain. To love is to prevail beauty, to feel absolute reverence in whatever shape it takes. If in your eyes…” the breath hooked heavily in your chest, reminded of his words, “With my human eyes, that's all I can see”. You started again. “If in your eyes, it is beauty, then so be it. But to love it is to know you'll grieve over and over and over again, for it is a part of your heart." When you talked with him, you felt so sure of your words despite the centuries weighing heavy on your chest. You pierced your gaze into his own, looking far into the lush green of his eyes. “Would you fear that? Lingering and loving a thing enough to know it’s absence, le chasseur d'amour?”

Hunter of love. The title he wore like a crown felt like dust when it touched your lips. Once again, you were blurring the picture of clarity in his mind with a hazy heat, an aching hunger which rolled inside him that urged him to join your hands in breaking beauty, breaking truth. But he remained frozen.

His eyes shook at your words, your unblinking gaze searching for any fear, any grief, anything‒ in hopes that he would pluck it from its own heart and hand them to you‒ fill you with any particle of humanity. If it was him, surely it would feel fresh like the hunger in his eyes. Rook clambered those things in his chest, he felt the roles of the hunt were tipping, fiercely tumbling between animal and human‒ but he felt himself allowing it for once, his grip loosening and his chest swelling euphorically at his flowering palms.

“I am not scared.” He reveals quietly to you, as if whispering a secret. “Just greedy for it. For everything. Maybe it’s not all black and white as you say.”

Too many fruit bore in front of his eyes, and every second he spent inspecting one made another rot. He starved below the base of the fruit tree, paralyzed in choosing which delectable sweetness he could latch his lips onto for eternity. There’s no time, no time, not enough, he seethes.

You saw the quiet fire in his eyes, looking aside in shame. You had no right on the matter‒ you could linger as long as you could‒ you had the choice to leave people first before they hollowed you out with their absence. And even if you stayed, it would be fossilized under the deep pressure of eternity‒ their faces would become unknown to even you, forgotten forever. True death‒ you witnessed it, created it over and over.

Right, this again. Humans did not have this privilege. But you did.

You felt far, impossibly small for these vast things.

“Yes. You’re right.” I am no longer entitled to such things.

“Then how about you? Do you love it?”

“I…” I shouldn’t. I can’t. Not again.“…I have no right on the matter. You shouldn’t listen to me.”

His frown loosened into disappointment. He grips his sensitivities back into his chest once more, quieting his footsteps as a kindness as he walks towards the door. “I see”.

You clumsily clasped his wrist with your gloved hand. “Wait‒” He turns, with wild eyes. “I didn’t mean‒“ What were you doing?

Despite the stillness in his body, you could feel the warmth rumbling through his wrist through your gloves, into you sensors. “Can I show you instead? And‒ you could help me decide?" You felt like a child again, begging for forgiveness, justifying your ignorance to people twice your size. "I don’t know. I truly don’t. I wish I could tell you. I'm sorry."

“...Okay.”

You slid your arm to cup your hand over his. His lips twisted slightly, but allowed you to guide his fingers towards a familiar statue, encrusted with soft, pink wax. You pressed it against where her cheek was, her flushed skin, warmed from the sunlight and life that was fleeting within when you touched her with your bare hand. You felt hers, then his heartbeat jump in your hands.

“Tell me, what does she say to you?”

Rook was silent for a moment. “Can it speak?”

“Her.” You corrected gently, running his hand in across her jaw with the soft force of your own. “Her name…I cannot remember, time is bitter to me right now. But feel her‒ what do you feel from her?” You felt your fingers lingering on his own, before they parted from him, your body falling to a chair.

As he felt the fluttering heartbeat‒ gradually slowing in his hands, a storm of stimulation buzzed inside him. This felt like sweetness leaving his lips, leaving his mouth dry, but honeyed. She feels green with greed, but in the light it shines pink‒ like tender flesh, like love; and blue, like the quiet entropy of the cosmos. Everything felt so raw‒ the colors and his senses fresh to him like a child, or a man nearing death. When the beating burrowed in the wax slowed to a whisper, she felt lighter against his touch. But he still felt her warmth dancing in his palms, leaving a ripple of colors before it turned snowy white in his mind. A frosted fragrance, like pine, smoldering to ash in the fireplace. It reminded him of Christmas nights with his siblings, where distant laughter could be heard in the room over as he drifted into blissful stillness. The warmth felt like a hand in the dark‒ like when his father had guided him through the forest on early winter mornings to see the sun rise. Your love carved into this cold flesh‒ felt so alive, felt like everything, everywhere, all at once.

He felt a swelling in his entire body, every nerve, every cell in his body felt bigger than he was, threatening to burst at his seams. It was the same feeling he had felt when he first encountered this statue‒ a bittersweet fire at his tongue, something writhing under his bones, begging to dig its way out.

The beauty of your craft had been knowledge, something he had merely observed before. But even his exceptionally sharp eyes could not have felt so tenderly, this, that, here, there, all of it. Only when you had led his hand heavy towards fleeting life, a ceaseless thing you had felt in the centuries of your existence‒ had he truly loved the heaven-laden beauty crafted by your hands. You were right. Before, he didn't want to give a single drop of himself‒ seizing your life as a fruitful opportunity, sweet but quick to rot. Now, he felt himself sinking into it, feeling, smelling, and tasting its whole as a part of himself, before he carried that flesh to his mouth to become a part of his mortal blood. Oh gods, it was delicious to eat the world so tender. He could feel himself falling off his bones.

“Do you think that is love? It’s been six hundred years‒“ You gulped the heavy air between those words. “I just know anymore‒ what humanity or beauty or love is. I'm a fraud. I'm no artist. A fraud."

He suddenly understood Idia’s angered response. If you were a fraud what was he? “Maître d’Ivoire. You know better than anyone, those words could not possibly be true.” The muscles behind his eyes tightened from the salt that lurched behind them. He cradled his own thoughts in his chest, guarding it with such tightness he feared he might break them. He let go to reach a hand towards your bare hand‒ feeling the warmth pouring from yours into his bones, softening that hold inside of him even more. When he spoke, he merely traced the words inside of him, spending no time decorating with meticulous distance like he always had.

“It feels like a storm is buzzing inside me. Like the bitter chill of a quiet morning. Like sweetness leaving my lips‒ spacious, but sweetened. She feels green with greed but shines pink in the light‒ like tender flesh, like love; and blue like the quiet entropy of the cosmos.”

“Oh‒“

“Allow me to finish. Everything feel so raw when I touched her‒ I felt like. Child or a man of his deathbed. And when the life stopped‒ it still felt warm, and colorful. It was like cool pine, smoldering to ash in the fireplace. Like Christmas nights with my family, nights where I hear distant auger from the other room while I drifted off to sleep. The warmth felt like my father’s hand in the dark‒ when he guided me through the forest on early winter mornings to see the sunrise.” He sucked in a deep breath to catch his own. “If this is the life and death you have touched others with is not love, I would not want to know it.”

You gave him an owlish stare, unable to give a response to his words. Now, you felt far too close, tethered to your body and its rising warmth that tingled at your cheeks. You brought your fingers to your face to check your temperature. They shook with your twitching blood, unable to register anything other than their tremble. If you had a stomach, you would have heaved it out with your heart at that moment you realized Rook was still holding your bare hand in his own.

“That’s so…” Your hand squeezed his. “…sappy.”

Rook gave you the same look you had a second ago, before bursting out in a fit of laughter. You quickly trailed behind him with your own chuckles, but you don’t let eachother’s hands go. The atelier fills with the lightness of your laughters, the two of you clutching stomachs and throwing your heads back and forth, but you don’t let eachother’s hands go. The weight of that touch grounds the soaring feeling inside of you, hand in hand, sharing that gravity together.

“Not only are you an artist‒ you are a comedian too? Fantastique!”

“Only because I did not know you were such a sap! But I should have guessed‒ le chasseur d'amour.” Your laughter began to die down to chuckles. “It’s been centuries since I’ve laughed like this.”

“I am glad to be the reason you have.”

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Notes:

You know, in a perfect world, there would be an English or Japanese to Old French translator. Or I would have some linguistic talent. Unfortunately the transition from Roman Vulgar Latin (the dialect of Classic Latin spoken in the Western Roman Empire) to French is so fucking convoluted because Charlemagne tasked an English who didn’t even speak a lick of Latin (or any Romance languages) to “French-ify” it by making all of the spelling literal from the pronouciation of the Latin word. Also French has a bunch of other influences like Celtic languages (Gaulish‒ because oh yeah, the Roman Empire was big but so were the Goths) and others because after the Roman Empire fell, things were a little bit chaotic until countries began to differentiate themselves by the Middle Ages were Middle French emerged as a closer relative to contemporary French.

If it’s one thing I can’t do it’s languages. I can barely speak my native language (Japanese) or my second language (English), and sometimes I’m illiterate like genuinely I look at my writing sometimes and I’m like ….What? I’m sure you all share similar sentiments about my writing sometimes lol. But sorry for the historical accuracy this time. My academic Achilles heel consists of non-applicable math and sciences, and linguistics.

Fruit tree analogy stolen from The Bell Jar lol I love Sylvia Plath

Sorry this was kind of short. But I have something bigger planned for the next chapter

[nicawlette]

RELATIONSHIP BUILDING ( old as fuck )

@nobully asked: 😙 yeah sure when pigs fly

( yeah... lmao... no way, right?? )

😙 for my muse’s reaction to yours being super affectionate.

The first one goes down with a single punch and it'd almost be embarrassing if she hadn't made sure to strike hard enough the first time. The second manages to get a lucky hit in, fist grazing her chin before Nicolette turns out of the way and kicks a leg out, heel slamming into his jaw. Once he hits the ground, neither of them make any move to get up.

❝ Oooi, is that really it? ❞ She scoffs, stepping close before squatting down beside a head. She leans over his face, inspecting the broken nose gushing blood down grimacing mouth. It's at that moment that the man on the ground coughs, sputtering around the fluid and effectively spewing it into her face. ❝ What the Hell?! ❞ She shrieks, standing up quickly and backing away as scarred hands scrub at her eyes. ❝ That is so fucking gross! Ew! EW!! ❞ It's not the first time she's been covered in blood, but she's usually more prepared for it. Being coughed on is so not cool or sexy!

It must be obvious that she's about to start throwing a fit, because Wang Yi decides to move closer from where he'd been watching, invading her space. Bemoaning ceases as he takes hold of her face, wonderfully tender in the way his palms cradle both cheeks. ❝ Wangyyy, ❞ The familiar pet name spoken with a pitiful whine as Nicolette relaxes into the touch, ❝ get it off— hurry, please! It tastes gross! ❞ Lips are practically dyed crimson, stained by a drop dipping past cupid's bow.

❝ Yeah yeah, I'm working on it. Be good and sit still, I'll handle it. ❞ It sounds like a scold, but the corners of Wang Yi's mouth curl up with something like fondness, or perhaps amusement, as his eyes grow dark with interest. He's always liked the sight of her dressed in blood.

Two-tone hues are both pleading and intense boring into his own before she obediently closes them. He runs his thumbs gently through long lashes and over flushed cheekbones, smearing the evidence across her fair skin. She feels one brush slowly over delicate cupid's bow and seam of her lips, and they part slightly as if on command. When her eyes flutter open, Nicolette finds— to her immense satisfaction— that Wang Yi's attention seems to be directed elsewhere. The pad of his thumb rests at the corner of her mouth as it upturns into a smile, and surely he feels the movement, just as he can see it happening.

❝ What are you looking at so hard? ❞ She asks, voice quiet in the space between them while Wang Yi tracks plush lips forming around the words. The silence might as well be an answer. The smile grows, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners— a telltale sign of its sincerity. ❝ Am I pretty, Yiyi? ❞

His instinctual response has him arching a brow, eyes rolling at her fishing. ❝ Obviously, ❞ he answers, but then Wang Yi looks at her— really looks, and seems enraptured all over again. ❝ You look beautiful like this... ❞ A compliment she's used to hearing, but spoken without a hint of irony from one whose sole focus she always aims to capture— Nicolette can't help the way heart jumps and blush darkens, crawling towards her ears.

❝ Like what? ❞ And it's accompanied by the hint of laughter. A barely there giggle, like an exhale. ❝ Covered in blood or smiling? ❞

❝ Both. ❞ He doesn't even have to think about it, but his cheeks grow warm with his overt honesty, anyway. He traces over her bottom lip, reveling in the plush softness as he drags it down slightly. ❝ And, yes, all the time, too— before you ask. ❞ Because he knows her well enough to guess exactly what she's thinking when her lips part wider to speak.

Nicolette preens, shortening the distance as she leans in a little closer, peering up at him with imploring eyes. ❝ You're supposed to be helping me wipe it off, remember? ❞ It lacks all displeasure, and Nicolette contradicts her own suggestion by allowing pink tongue to dart out and lick the pad of his thumb clean. ❝ It still tastes bad, ❞ a complaint, ❝ won't you give me something else to taste, Wang Yi~? ❞ And an invitation.

Wang Yi hardly appears put off by the idea. ❝ Oh yeah? And how do you suggest I do that? ❞ He returns her teasing without missing a beat, digging thumb further into the curled corner of her mouth. His other hand prods at the bruise on her chin before tucking a strand of violet hair behind an ear. Her responding pout only encourages him, and he eliminates the distance between them just enough to press his lips to the tip of her nose.

There's a fluttering in her stomach as Nicolette releases a soft sigh, drowning in the warm affection that still feels new and addicting every time it's exchanged. It leaves her unsteady and high, spoiled enough to always seek out more. ❝ Come on... that's the wrong spot. ❞ With a murmur she tilts her head up, breath ghosting over his face with each word as they share the same air. ❝ If I'm gonna taste blood, I'd rather it be yours, anyway. ❞

The sentiment is shared, but it pleases him all the same. Wang Yi uses his sleeve to finish the job, hands falling way from her face only once he's satisfied. One slides to the bare expanse of her nape while the other fits into the curve of Nicolette's waist. ❝ There— perfect, good as new. Would've been quicker if you were patient. ❞ They both know he's full of shit.

She giggles when Wang Yi bends slightly to brush the curve of his nose and lips against her temple to her hairline, head tilting to match his movements while she grabs for him: scarred fingers wrapping around a wrist and arm encircling his neck. ❝ Stop being mean to me, ❞ says a voice wavering with giddiness. ❝ Heartless man. ❞

❝ So spoiled. ❞ Chastises her cruel lover at the same time he gifts an open-mouthed kiss to blooming bruise. But he must be feeling impatient too, because Wang Yi submits to her insistent tugs closer and finally wipes the grin off her face, replacing every taste with that of his own.

[vrmxlho]

So can you make a fluff headcanon about blue lock with bachira and/or isagi. Your choice Feel free to ignore this have a nice day/night and take care of yourself

i'm gonna be honest w y'all i have no idea if i'm good at fluff cuz my bf and i are not fluffy at all (i don't think???) so if this is shit don't be afraid to tell me lmao T-T +++ btw thank you sm for requesting <33 SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE THIS I WAS SCARED TO WRITE IT LMAO ++ i couldn't stop writing once i started so this is hella long

MEGURU BACHIRA 蜂楽廻

bachira's love language is 100% physical touch like you cannot tell me he doesn't love just holding you or kissing you or holding your hand

he could be in a really shit mood but as soon as he sees you and is able to feel your presence next to him, he's forgotten about whatever was pestering him before

if you like flowers he'll get you flowers every. fucking. time.

and if you don't like them or are allergic, that's what lego flowers are for!

i can just imagine him buying those lego flowers and staying up till like 4 making them for you because he just wants you to be happy

i also feel like he's scared of abandonment :((( and that just means he's always with you, always pestering you, always talking to you

he just needs reassurance that you'll stay with him

ok when i said his love language is 100% physical touch i lied, it's both physical touch and quality time

gosh he will come up with the most weird and complicated reasons as to why he has to see you right now

he mostly does it cuz he loves being around you but also because of how annoyed and petty you get, he finds it so so funny 😒

"i broke my foot, i can't play football anymore" "WHAT? ARE YOU OKAY? I'M COMING OVER, I KNOW FOOTBALL MEANS THE WORLD TO YOU </3333" turns out he had not in fact broken his foot, he just wanted to see you. god, this boy is so oblivious he just needed to text you something simple like "come over" and you would've been on your way, there was absolutely no reason to lie about it LMAOO

omg ok hear me out

bachira does not have an ideal date as long as its with you

when asked the question "how would you like to spend a whole day with your s/o?" he just thought 'wtf' like???? i love them sm, i could be picking up garbage and still enjoy it if i'm with my s/o

all his friends called him a simp, but he was proud abt it, after all who wouldn't simp for you

he's also really spontaneous, yk with his 'ego' and everything

y'all could just be hanging out and then suddenly out of nowhere you're at a theme park, or at the beach, or a kiddie park

once during the summer, when it was too hot to do anything except complain and eat ice-lollies, he pulled you all the way to a theme park just to have a change of scenery

"please bachira, it's like 30º, we're gonna die" "will you shut up about the heat? you're like a little baby, i promise it'll be fun" and oh was he right. it was getting warmer and warmer but not even a heat wave couldn't ruin the fun. you had gone on all of the rides at least twice but nothing could beat the relaxing water log one. the two of you kept cutting the line as soon as you were done, jumping over the metal barriers and running from the security guard who was sure he'd just seen you (am i going crazy he thought). after about the fifth time he was just so done with the two of you he gave up. you'd be drifting on the log, splashing each other with the kinda gross water. neither of you could stop laughing (nobody knows why), everyone around you thought you were maniacs, but neither of you cared.

although he's always happy when receiving presents, he prefers giving you presents

and by presents i don't mean rlly expensive things but more like little things that remind him of you

he saw a paperclip that was shaped like a heart? present material

your favourite soda? present

you really liked that one song??? well he knows about three more like that, he's making you a playlist as we speak

is it any good? um excellent question! not too sure about his music taste...

just like him it's all over the place

your music tastes do not go well together but that's not gonna stop either one of you from trying to brainwash the other into liking your favourite songs

"this is ass, i can feel my brain melting" "y/n, this song saved my life" "and it's pushing me off the edge, please get a grip" he gets really pouty and pretends he hates you, but that lasts about five minutes because deep down he knows you're right 😭

omg and his kisses

he's never awkward of hesitant about it, he just goes straight for it

your very first kiss was a bit random, the two of you were just talking before he leaned in and quickly pecked your lips, you were a blushing mess, and he liked seeing you like this so he did it again, and again, everywhere this time, your eyes, you forehead, both cheeks, the sides of your lips that were super ticklish

and he does this every time

one kiss isn't enough he needs at least 8!

he does not care about PDA, in fact the more ppl who know you're his, the better

if y'all were any trope it would definitely be childhood sweethearts, yk when you marry your best friend in like primary school? yeah, he probably proposed to you

"to y/n i give my most prized possession, my football" "bachira, i'm tired, i don't feel like playing today" "nonono this is just a gift for the bride" oh silly child, he's not asking you to play with him. he's in love with you <33333

his mother (yu bachira) is literally molly weasley incarnate

like she's out here locking you in their house, there's no way she's letting you go back home?? no, you're her guest!

has a list of foods you like and don't like just so whenever you're home she can cook for you and everything 🥲

she's currently teaching bachira how to cook your favourite meals, she'd never want you to raise a single finger, ever

YOICHI ISAGI 潔 世一

the world's purest, but also the world's most talkative person ever

homeboy has an average of 10000 words spoken per day (fyi that's a lot)

he just wants to tell you about everything <333

if anything, even the smallest thing, happens when you're not there with him he's 100% filling you in later

hosts a daily ted talk where he just tells you about all the other guys and how they suck 🙄 and how he's getting better at football and like he's pulling up stats you've never heard of???

"and i checked his stats and the only thing he's better at is aerial duels, but it's only by 0.2, so honestly who cares right?? i mean its negligible" "like the charge of a neutron" "wtf is a neutron?" no babe, wtf does 0.2 aerial duel mean??? since when can you fly??? (it's when players fight for the ball while jumping btw)

but don't get me wrong that does not mean he doesn't listen cuz he's such a good listener omg, the best one honestly

why's he good at everything dammit

he loves hearing about your day

he'll ask you about it without fail every single day and he genuinely listens it not like he's doing it out of common curtesy he just loves hearing from you

to him, you could make the most uneventful day sound interesting

he'll be looking at you in awe like a little child being told about magic or smth like that (this was not a great analogy help)

and that makes him supper attentive too

he can instantly tell when something's even slightly off and somehow he knows exactly how to make you feel better

omg he's the type of boyfriend who has a polaroid of you in his phone case and he just stares at it from time to time

OMG I CAN IMAGINE HIM TRYING THOSE FUCKING TIKTOK FILTERS WHICH ARE LIKE "THE INITIAL IT LANDS ON IS YOUR SOULMATE"

and he takes them soooo fucking seriously, unless it's not your initial, no, then that's bullshit 😰🫡

he's 100% husband material, marry him rn like actually

unlike bachira he already knows how to cook and he's gonna get physical if he ever sees you doing anything, he's more like bachira's mother in that way

his ideal date is walking around and going on cute ass picnic dates

ESPECIALLY IN AUTUMN WHEN THE CHERRY BLOSSOM FLOWER PETALS ARE LIKE GENTLY FALLING AND FLYING IN THE WIND OMG

he loves when y'all go on dates when it's a bit chilly

"why didn't you wear a jacket?" "it would ruin my outfit" :(((( "ugh, just wear mine then, i don't want you getting a cold" it really wasn't cold that day. you just wanted to wear his coat. little did you know that isagi too was praying that he'd be able to pull of that move, he'd been thinking about it ever since he saw those stupid rom-coms where the guy gives his crush his coat and then they fall in love or smth. my silly children 😪

his love language is quality time, he hates being ignored and he wants to be with the people he loves at all times possible

lucky for him everyone loves him, he's such a sweetheart

his favourite pastime (apart from football ofc) is lying in your lap while you read him a book, gossip or just sit in the silence

he loves looking at you from below especially after that one time he saw the sun shining from behind your head and he swore you looked like an angel (you really did, i was there)

omg listen to this

y'all have a bit of a rivalry when it comes to bowling

you're both so god awful at it but you're both also convinced you're better than the other

"you're supposed to be aiming at the pins, not the hole..." "okay in my defence, when shooting you usually aim for the place with no defenders, so you can score!!" "don't pretend this is about football, you just suck 😒"

he loves kissing you, its the best thing ever

your first kiss was a bit awkward but it had its charm

you both had already been together for a while now but neither of you knew how to initiate the kiss

until you both were laughing at the dumbest joke he'd ever made in his whole life (he still cringes at the memory of it)

you just looked so fucking beautiful, with small tears in your eyes from laughing too much, a smile wide and that cute laugh

he couldn't help it so he just pushed himself onto you

and keep in mind there was some distance between the two of you so when he kissed you the two of you fell

but i mean, at least it was memorable???

gosh you both are the definition of first and last love <3333

[symphonicmetal101]

OBEY ME CHARACTERS AS DIFFERENT MONSTERS FROM AROUND THE WORLD HCS

These are sfw, and always will be on this blog.

ANYWAYS

I tried to write actual hcs but I just ended up saying "this is the monster and what it does", nothing super specific but Im too fucking tired to fix it now lmao

Also also, I did only a little bit of research due to the lack of time to motivation ratio I have, so PLEASE let me know if any of these hold cultural significance in that it would be offensive for me to use it this way. Its not intentional if it is, and I will change it as soon as I know. Thank you lovies.

Tw: alludes to death, blood, gore etc. Not of mc, just in nature of these creatures and what they do/look like, also the first two are the worst, I swear the rest are better lmao

Word Estimate: 1.2K bc I cant copy this entire doc on mobile to check

The Peuchen is a shapeshifter that makes a strange whistling sound before it attacks. It has the ability to strike fear into whoever looks it in the eyes, paralyzing them in order to drain their blood and take their heart without leaving a mark. The only way it can be eliminated is by the hand of a Mapuche medicine woman.

Lucifer- Peuchen (Mapuche/Chilean)

He loooves making his nest huge in a rocky outcropping. Its something he's very proud and protective of, so its actually built very well. It would have to be, seeing as literally anything shiny he comes across gets dumped into the nest. Has even more trouble remembering where he put stuff, but is quicker to recoginize faces. Whenever he gets pouty or flustered theres a sound like a paper fan being opened as he puffs his wings up.

Mammon- Harpy (Greek/Roman)(also yeah yeah ikik they're female in the myths but this is the only exception Ive made)

Levi- Baak (Assamese)

Baak are said to live in bodies of water, and they are shapeshifters, taking on the body of their last victim to journey on land and take their victims place in order to eliminate their entire family. However, some Baak merely play tricks on people, especially children, and thats moreso where Levi lies when he finally decides he wants to be percieved. Also only coming around when there are children reduces his chances of getting hurt or needing to fight. Keeping him at bay just takes a broken fishing net.

Satan- Erzhong Ren (耳中人) (Chinese)

(This monster was introduced in the second story of Liaozhai i.e. the critically acclaimed Qing Dynasty compilation of Chinese supernatural stories.

He's a tiny little ogre that lived in a scholars ear. Going off of this, he enjoys listening to and absorbing information, but doesnt want to run the risk of you/his "host" getting rid of him, so he stays in places that makes it difficult for you to do so. It also means...you HAVE to listen to his opinions.

Asmodeus- Gimuho (Korean)

Similar to the Kitsune, the Gimuho disguises itself as a woman (or just a generally attractive person) to make people fall in love with them. Once they fall in love with him, he devours their heart and other organs :D

Beelzebub- Gashadokuro (Japanese)

Gigantic skeletons formed by the amassed bones of people who died of starvation. They bite the heads off of travelers and drink their blood. They possess the ability to become invisible, and are indestructable, lasting as long as their malicious energy takes to run out. Kinda sounds like if Beel went on a rampage after falling...

Belphie- Bakhtak (Iranian)

It sits on your chest while you’re sleeping aiming to suffocate you to death. It has been depicted as a goblin, a stout heavy looking little man. He is the reason for your nightmares, shortness of breath, and more.

Diavolo- Ifrit (Islamic/Arabian)

Ok so, at its base, an Ifrit is very similar, if not a type, of demon. However I am still including it because I said I will. An ifrit is a powerful and (often though not always) malevolent supernatural being. Magic is the only thing that can overpower them. Although they are often depicted as malicious and ruthless, it is not always true. The ifrit live in complex societies, and will sometimes marry humans and live peacefully with them. They can appear in their truest form, of smokeless fire, or take on the appearance of animals or a human.

Barb - Domovoy (Russian)

A Domovoy is a small household spirit that is known for both causing mischief and assisting with household chores. It depends on how well you treat them. They are able to see into the future, and guard the family that dwells in the house. Sometimes it shows displeasure by causing grating noises or upsetting family pets, but is easily put back to rest with a loaf of bread or another small offering.

Mephistopheles - Dark Watcher (United States - specifically California)

They don’t bring harm or joy, merely ominous as they stand and watch you from a distance, silhouettes with circular eyes that glow a bit. In Mephistopheles case, he likes to observe people over the course of centuries, documenting the differences he notices as time passes.

Simeon - Hyter Sprites (English folklore? Norfolk?)

These sprites have been reported to help lost children return home after dark. It was mostly parents that would villianize them, but the sprites have never harmed the children they have brought home. (They also bring home and protect donkeys askljdhlksajdas) and encourage the children to behave for their parents afterwards.

Raphael- Lamassu (Sumerian)

The Lamassu was a symbol of an ox, eagle, human, and lion used to ward off bad spirits from entering ones home in the Mesopotamian period. It was also said the the Lamassu would reward heroes with many riches after completing missions.

Luke - Fastachee (Native American, did not find specifics)

Often depicted as a small dwarf or gnome like creature, the Fastachee shares corn and medicinal insight with humans. They also heal animals suffering from ailments. The Native American tribes would also share their insight with the Fastachee (Little Giver) and had a positive and respectful relationship with it.

Thirteen- Banshee (Irish)

The banshee is a female spirit said to appear preceding the death of a loved one. She will wail or shriek to warn family members of the coming disaster. Her physical appearance varies, but Thirteen specifically likes to appear as the figure as a young woman in the family that has already passed as a way to herald the death of another loved one.

Solomon- Rübezahl (German/Polish)

Rübezahl appears as a capricious giant, gnome, or mountain spirit. With decent people, he shows them magic/medicine and how to use the land around them. If someone has poor intentions and tricks him, he exacts revenge in an equal manner. In some folklore, he plays the role of a trickster.

If this flops I'll cry

I literally worked for months on this because of my brain being frustrating and trying to find to find things that fit, and some of them Im still not happy with. Yes, there are a few that could have better fitting monsters but by the time I found out about them, I had already written about another monster from the same country. So please be gentle is what Im trying to say djskdbskjs I DO NOT have the emotional energy to deal with asshats

Thank you bbs

Masterlist

[rendevousz]

mum?

mother figure!nat x fem!teen!reader

avengers x reader

req by @teenwonder ; i absolutely love the entire teams adoration for reader skfksngnsf its so cute! could i please request one a little more nat based? maybe r treats and loves nat like a mom but nat hadn’t noticed that before, and the whole team is like listing examples of how and why 🥺🥺🥺

summary: the four times you needed nat and the one time she admits that she needed you too.

warnings: blood, a random attack out of nowhere because i'm not creative, inaccurate writing of medical situations because i have no idea how those things work, also let's just pretend bruce was around during iron man 2 when tony still had palladium in his arc reactor, also inaccurate descriptions of palladium effects bcs i just...don't know much about palladium pls forgive me thanks, and idk any hospitals in new york/manhattan or even the states LMAO so uh bear with this, and last but not least, my inability to write good endings

word count: 5426

notes: that's a long ass warning nevertheless pls do enjoy this fic <3

"i'm going now, bye!" you bid the team who were having breakfast together, walking out of the common area.

"bye, cupcake! don't get into trouble, don't do what i'd do and definitely don't do what i wouldn't do." tony advised and you rolled your eyes because tony says that to you every morning before you leave for school.

"wait, don't forget your lunch!" nat stands up from her seat and grabs your lunch that she had packed, from the kitchen island, bringing it over to you. "thanks, nat!" you grabbed it, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before leaving.

nat smiles at the action, turning around to walk back to her spot on the table, only to find the team staring back at her with knowing looks.

"what?"

"you know, you only need to sign a couple papers and the kid's all yours." tony states matter-of-factly. nat snaps her head towards the man, an incredulous look on her face. "what are you talking about?"

"we all see the longing looks on both your faces. she's dying for you to call her your daughter and you, her mother." clint explains and the others nodded in agreement.

"that's nonsense. she has wanda too," nat reasons, sitting back down. "i'm pretty sure she sees wanda as a sister considering how much she drags wanda with her whenever she's causing trouble around the tower." steve raises his brows at the redhead who was in denial.

"she sees you as her mother, nat. just accept it," wanda tells her, taking a sip from her glass. "really? name me one time she showed it." nat challenges them, not knowing that they've been watching your interactions with her for the longest time.

"you have no idea what you just got yourself into, romanoff," clint chuckles, cracking his neck and knuckles as if preparing for a fight.

"remember new mexico?" he smirks and nat only frowns, trying to remember.

i.

"no!" you screamed, dropping down to the ground. you didn't care that you scraped your knees doing that, the only thing that mattered was the overwhelming feeling of grief engulfing your whole being. tears streamed down your face as you looked at the debris on the ground, the remainder of what used to be standing in front of you; a building. blown up, now in ruins.

clint, bucky and steve watched you break down in front of them, their hearts breaking at the sight in front of them as well as the fact that their teammate had been caught up in the middle of the explosion.

"y/n/n? come on, tony's team called for back up. we gotta go," steve tried to get you to stand up, failing when you kept your ground. you screamed when he tried again and their hearts clenched at the heartbreaking sound.

"we can't just leave her! please, we have to find her," you cried, clinging onto steve's body as he ran his hand up and down your suit-cladded back to soothe you. "y/n/n, we can't. the whole place is in ruins now," he didn't want to say it but he had to. he had to in order to get you to leave. "she's gone."

"she can't be gone! she can't just leave us! we need her! i need her, stevie.." you cried into his chest and he had to control himself so he didn't cry right then and there too.

he looked up to see bucky looking at the two of you guiltily, tapping his wrist to indicate that they were running out of time. steve had no choice but to carry you in his arms, getting you to leave the site against your will. but you were too weak to fight back now. "what am i gonna do without her now, stevie?" you asked quietly.

"we're gonna be okay, y/n/n," he tells you, sitting you down on a chair and settling down next to you as clint flew the jet to your next location. the atmosphere was tense and you could tell everyone, too, was sad about this.

"what if we're not? what if we're not gonna be okay, stevie? i know i won't be." you wiped the tears streaming down your face despite the fact that your face still wasn't drying up any time soon.

"because nat wouldn't want to see us like this. she'll be angry if she sees that we're risking people's lives just because of her." he says truthfully.

"we're landing, guys." clint announces and the team prepared for another round of fighting. steve turns to you, wiping the tears on your face as he made you look up at him. "now let's save some people and make nat proud, yeah?"

you nod at him sadly, preparing your weapons. all of you got out the jet and the second battle of the day begun. boy, were these people unlucky because they were on the receiving end of your fury.

you were busy taking down a group of guards alone when you heard a familiar voice. "y/n, behind you!" and you turned just in time to take down a guard who was aiming at you.

you didn't even have time to register your shock of seeing the redhead because more guards came at you two. you guys fought alongside each other until all the men were taken down.

"nat?" you breathed out. "yes, bub?" she answers as you both carefully walked over the knocked out men. she was taken aback when you slammed into her, hugging her the tightest you ever did since you met her.

"please don't ever do that again." you mumbled into her chest. she was about to ask you what you meant when she heard you sniffling. figuring out it wasn't the appropriate moment to ask, she continued to just hug and comfort you in silence.

"wait, that was why she cried that day? because she thought i was in that building when it blew up?" nat asks after steve finished the story. "i never found out why because she never told me."

"yeah, you should've seen her when the building exploded. completely shattered my heart, dude." clint states, remembering the broken down state you were in that day.

"wait, did you guys not grief over my supposed death then?" nat glares at clint, bucky and steve. "in our defense, they were about to blow up about a hundred people, we didn't have much time to process the whole situation." clint tries to convince his best friend, only to receive a glare again from her.

"alright but just because she cried when she thought i was dead, doesn't mean she sees me as her mum. i'd cry too if any one of you guys died," she states, still in denial.

she did love you like how a mother would love her child. but she didn't want you to feel that she was forcing the title onto you. after all, you had so many other adults around you, who's to say that you saw someone else as a parent figure instead of her? she didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

"woman, are you serious?" sam exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. "need i remind you that the girl sacrificed her life for you?"

ii.

"nat, watch out!" you stood right behind her where the man was about to attack her. you gave him a harsh kick to the head and that was all it took for the man to go unconscious.

the redhead turned around, not having enough time to comprehend what had happened before you dropped into her arms. you two were lucky the last of the men had already been taken out.

"bub? what's wrong?"

at this point, you were fully leaning against her. she was holding up your whole weight, hands wrapped around your middle to support you. that was when she felt it. the familiar thick substance on her fingers, leaking from the back of your suit.

her eyes widened, pulling one hand away from you to look at it. red. her breathing picked up as one of her hands felt around your back, finally feeling the handle of a knife sticking out from your back.

your eyes were already drooping by now and she lightly shook you awake, careful to not hurt you. she lowered you down and you were both sat on the floor now.

she presses a finger to her ear and you could hear her voice echo in your ear from your own comms. "can someone come please," she paused, exhaling shakily. "y/n's down."

if it had been any other person, she probably would be bringing them to the jet by now but it was you. she didn't know what came over her but when she saw that you were injured, it was like her whole body shut down. her knees felt weak and she couldn't bring herself to move.

"hey, hey, keep your eyes open. can you do that?" she asked gently and you nodded weakly. "bub, why did you do that?" she cried softly, moving your hair away from your face as you leaned sideways against her. the action caused your face to be smudged by your own blood from her hands but she didn't care as she caressed your cheek.

"he–he was gonna hurt you. i–i couldn't..." you paused a while, the pain getting too much for you to bear. "y/n, don't strain yourself. you need to stay awake," she tells you as tears streamed down her face.

"rather me than you," you whispered. nat's eyes widened at this. "don't say that, bub." she scolds gently.

you smiled weakly at her. "i've grown too dependent on you, nat. it's to the point that i," you coughed and nat worried that you were straining yourself but you continued. "that i'd rather die than live without you. you probably can go on with life without me but i can't without you. i need you, nat." your eyes closed and nat panics, shaking your body.

"y/n?! bub?! stay awake, please, they're coming!" nat cries out loud, holding onto your limp body.

"did we not agree to not mention that to me anymore?" nat glares at sam for bringing that up.

the night of that incident had been one of the worst nights for nat. she sat by your bed all night after you had been treated. she had been the first one you saw after you woke up. she had been the one you broke down in front of after you admitted the full reasoning behind your actions. she had been the one who opened her arms for you to make yourself at home in.

"i'm sorry but you must be blind if you can't see how really she sees you for the past years," bucky states. nat turns to him with a glare. "you don't know what you're talking about."

"oh really? who does she call whenever she has a really bad nightmare?" bucky questions rhetorically with his eyebrows raised.

iii.

"no, please, don't!" you begged, asleep and thrashing around in your bed. quiet whimpers turned into heavy breathing as you plead for your life in your nightmare. "please," you whispered, inhaling and exhaling harshly.

FRIDAY, noticing the amount of distress you were in, alerted the closest person to your room, that being bucky who was returning from a late night trip to the kitchen for some water.

he quickly went into your room, only to see you shivering and thrashing around in your bed. "doll?" he approaches slowly, finding you still asleep, though sweating a lot. nightmare, he realised.

"doll? wake up," he gently shakes you and you immediately jolt awake, breathing heavily as you register what was going on. "it's okay, it was just a nightmare," he soothes you, holding you close as one hand rubbed up and down your back while the other held your head to his chest.

none of that helped as you were still in the same state as you were when you woke up. "are you okay?" he asks, worried. "nat... i need nat.. please i need her," you whimpered, shaking in his hold. you were having trouble breathing.

"FRIDAY, get romanoff."

within minutes, nat arrived, looking panicked and disheveled like she had just woken up, which she just did. "what's wrong?" she asks bucky, approaching you two.

"she was having a nightmare and woke up and i think she's having a panic attack. she asked for you," he informs her and immediately moves away when she approaches, so that she could take his place.

"bub? it's me," you look up to meet natasha's pretty green eyes. "you're okay, bub. can you tell me five thing you can see?"

you looked away from her eyes, looking around your room. "i–i see my book on my nightstand, my lamp, my jacket on the chair, my laptop and the painting on the wall." you told her after some difficulties.

"good, that's good. four things you can feel?"

"i feel the socks on my feet, my fluffy blanket, the pillow i'm leaning on and your hands around me."

she smiles softly at you. "three things you can hear?"

"i hear your voice. a–and the faint noise from the ac and i can also hear bucky's breathing." you look up at the man and he smiles sheepishly at you, standing around awkwardly. you gave him a small smile back.

"two things you can smell?"

"i can smell my own shampoo..and my room's air freshener." you told her more calmly now, feeling the panic attack already going away.

"one thing you want to taste?"

"i wanna taste wanda's blueberry pancakes." you pout and the two adults couldn't help but chuckle. "you can have them in the morning. right now you need to sleep so you can have the energy to devour them tomorrow, okay?" you nod at the woman as she tucks you in.

not long after, you fell asleep. she then presses a kiss to your forehead before leaving with a less worried bucky now. and sure enough, the next morning, wanda made you blueberry pancakes.

"okay, so what? we all need someone to help us through panic attacks?" nat rolls her eyes. "did you miss the part where i came in and tried to help but she specifically asked for you? she needed you, nat."

"guys, i... i love her with my whole heart but she has all of us. i don't wanna make her feel like she's restricted to only one of us. you all love her too," nat reasons.

"yes but she doesn't have anyone to call her mum and frankly, i think you'd be perfect for it." wanda encourages the older woman.

"i—" before she could continue, her phone rang loudly and she thanked whoever it was that called her because now she didn't have to make up excuses about her doubt of becoming your official mother.

iv.

she looks down at the caller id, sighing when it was you, meaning the team had more against her now. of course she didn't mind you calling her, you could call her when she'd be asleep after a mission and she'd still pick up with a smile on her face. but it was the fact that the whole team could see how she softened when she realised it was you who called that bothered her. she really didn't want them to let her have hopes that you'd accept her as your mother.

"bub?" she said into the phone and half the team smirked at her while the other half gave her knowing smiles. "aren't you supposed to be on your way to school?"

"yeah but uh are you busy right now? i um, i need you."

nat immediately stands up, worry etched onto her face and the team frowned at this. "what happened? are you okay?"

"you know how i told happy i wanted to walk to school today? yeah, i just remembered why i don't walk to school anymore."

"what do you mean? what happened? are you hurt? did someone hurt you?" she bombards you with questions out of worry. at this point, the team had also stopped their chatter and teasing looks, equally worried for your well-being.

"yeah, i am. wait, maybe not. i mean, i was just being dramatic but uh, i tripped on who-knows-what and now i have a sprained ankle. i can't walk now so i'm standing in an alley right now so i'm not in the way of people. can you come get me?"

nat sighs in relief, thankful that it wasn't anything that she was thinking of. "you are unbelievable, y/n." she chuckles in disbelief at your clumsiness. "can you tell me where you are? i'll come get you now. i'll have the school know you're not coming today." you told her your location and she immediately leaves after telling the team what happened to you.

you were expecting nat to call again, to tell you she was around the corner but instead you heard a whoosh of air beside your head, followed by a crack sound. your head followed the sound, eyes widening when you saw that a dart had struck the wall beside your head. you looked ahead, trying to see where that came from.

if it hadn't been for your fast reflexes being an avenger for the past few years, you probably wouldn't have ducked in time when another dart came flying right for your head. "what the hell?" you grunted, staying low but still looking around for the source. you squinted when you looked up, the sun blazing but you managed to catch a glimpse of a man on a rooftop nearby. he had blonde hair and was dressed in all black, donning a same coloured mask that covered the bottom half of his face.

"you had one job! how could you miss her twice?!" the blonde hears his colleague hiss in his ear through the earpiece. "i'm sorry! i'm no hawkeye, how was i supposed to get her in one try?!" he scolds back.

"you didn't even get her in two!"

"shut up and just let me work! you're distracting me!"

"hurry because i see the redheaded one nearing the alley. boss'll kill us if he finds out we didn't get her in her vulnerable state."

"i'm trying, i'm trying!" the blonde closes one eye, his sight now locked on your crouched state. he saw you move once you saw him and he cursed under his breath, his weapon following your movements. "she's moving!"

"just take the shot and be done with it! you have to go now!"

and shoot he did. after he shot the dart gun, he immediately fled but it wasn't like you were going to be able to chase him down or anything. a scream left your lips as a dart pierced through your skin, right under your shoulder.

you dropped down to the ground, right in the middle of the alleyway. you cried when you felt the burn in your flesh. you had been stabbed multiple times before with much bigger objects so why did this feel different?

"y/n?! is that you?!" you heard nat's voice yell from a small distance away. "i'm here," you croaked out, feeling your body grow weaker at an alarming rate.

"oh my god, bub, why are you on the ground? it's dirty, c'mon let's get you up. which foot did you sprain?" she places both her hands under your arms, pulling you up on your feet before accidentally dropping you back when you let out a shriek, crying out in pain.

"oh my god, did i hit your ankle? are you okay?" nat assumed that your tear-stained face was because of your sprained ankle but then you wheezed, your eyes drooping the longer she stood there.

your right hand slowly reached across your left shoulder, the butt of the dart sticking out of your skin now in between your shaking fingers. nat's eyes followed your hand movement's, a gasp leaving her lips.

"y/n, what happened?!" she panicked but before she could even get an answer from you, you had already blacked out. her eyes widened, knowing it was the dart because why else would you pass out that quick from a simple penetration in the shoulder. you had dealt with much worse than that and she knew your tolerance level.

she took off your bag, careful to not move the dart. she then placed her hands under your knees and behind your back, easily picking your unconscious body up and rushing back to the tower.

when she arrived, she was met with many confused yet concerned looks from the tower staff, seeing the black widow, rushing in with the youngest avenger unconscious in her arms. they had seen you leave the tower for school about half an hour ago so they knew something must've happened on the way.

"get bruce in the hospital wing. tell him it's urgent." she tells the woman working the front desk, hurrying into the elevator and telling FRIDAY to get her to the floor she so desperately wanted to arrive at quicker. black lines appeared on the left side of your neck, slowly spreading to the right side and she assumed it was from that damned dart in your left shoulder.

"natasha! what's wrong? they said it was an emergency," the doctor spoke in a panicked voice when nat entered, immediately going quiet when he saw you in her arms, neck lined with seemingly black veins.

nat laid you down on the surgery table, frown growing when black lines steadily spread to your arms now. though she was too worried to think, she managed to at least tell bruce what was outwardly wrong with you.

"dart. left shoulder." she blurted, incapable of forming proper sentences now that she had seen more of you. the black lining your skin got her speechless and anxious. bruce got ready with medical gloves, removing the dart from your flesh before analysing the pattern of your skin. it looked familiar.

"FRIDAY, get tony down here. it's urgent."

"bruce, please, what's wrong with her?" she cried, tears now freely streaming down her face. she didn't cry much in front of anyone but when it came to you, you always managed to get her to do just that.

"hey, what's going on? FRIDAY said there was an emergency here, who's hurt?" nat heard tony's panicked voice but she didn't make an effort to reply. her gaze was fixed on only you.

tony's jaw dropped, frowning when he saw you on the bed, upper body covered in black lines. "what the hell happened?!"

tony stepped beside bruce, taking a closer look at your skin. his frown deepened. "wait, it looks like.."

"yeah, looks exactly like when you had palladium instead of vibranium in your arc reactor."

"does that mean—"

"palladium's been running through her veins for about twenty minutes now. FRIDAY, how high is her blood toxicity level?" bruce asks, sampling a drop of your blood from when he took out the dart.

"53% and it is still steadily increasing."

"tony, at the rate it's going, if she's not treated in the next fifteen minutes or so, she'll.." bruce pauses, not wanting to say it out loud.

"no, she just needs lithium dioxide. that's how fury and i cured your palladium poisoning, tony." nat finally speaks.

"SHIELD probably has them but they're all the way in dc. they're not gonna reach here in time," tony states solemnly, reaching over to move your hair out of your face, looking down at you sadly.

but he was immediately pulled aside, nat grabbing his collar and looking him straight in the eyes. "you have your stupid iron suits that can probably travel faster than the speed of sound if you try. you can go down there yourself and get the damn thing. i swear to god, tony, i'm literally going to destroy those stupid suits myself if you don't put them to good use." nat threatens, glaring at the billionaire.

tony's eyes widened, the genius having not thought about nat's idea yet. "yeah, yeah, you're right, i'll go now."

he left immediately and nat approached your bed hesitantly, not wanting to see the black lines making home on the skin on your upper body. "do you think tony'll make it back in time?" she sniffles and bruce's worried frown on his face softened. "of course he will. he won't let anything happen to y/n. we won't let anything happen to y/n." he assured her.

there was nothing they could do now but wait for tony to come back with the lithium dioxide. nat sat beside your bed, hands gingerly grasping one of your own. despite the black staining it, nat held it to her face and her tears rolled past the back of your hand.

bruce decided to give her some privacy, opting to inform the whole team of the situation instead of standing around idly.

nat pulled your hand away from her face, rubbing her thumb over the back of it, crying even more at the sight in front of her. "y/n, please. i've never told you this but i need you." she pauses, breathing in shakily. "i've always needed you and i'll always need you. you can't leave me, please. you said i could go on with life without you but you're so wrong, y/n. you're the reason i'm still here and you're the reason i still want to be here. if you're not here then it's as if i have no reason, no purpose. i need you, y/n. so much more than i'd like to admit. heck, probably much more than you need me. so please, don't leave me. i can't do this without you." nat sobs out, watching the patterns on your skin spreading and growing bolder.

at this point, the whole team had now gathered outside of the room, watching nat cry over you. they wanted so bad to get a closer look at their beloved baby avenger but they respected nat and instead, waited for her to finish talking to you. once she stood up and looked around, bruce knew she was done so he entered, followed by the team.

"status, FRIDAY?" bruce asks, sampling a bit of your blood again. "blood toxicity at 96% now."

the team looked your unconscious body in apprehension, some crying and some worried out of their minds.

"goddamnit! where the hell is stark?!" nat growled. her eyes were now puffy after having spent the last half an hour crying. the team had never seen her lose her cool like this but they figured why.

as if on cue, tony's iron man suit crashed through the windows of the room but he couldn't care less. his main priority was to get to you quickly. in his hand was a silver briefcase that he passed to bruce.

bruce opened the case before wasting no time in plunging the syringe containing lithium dioxide, your supposed cure, into you. immediately, the black patterns on your skin started disappearing. it was slow but noticeable. it started from the tips of your fingers, going up towards your neck.

everyone sighed in relief, and to tony's surprise, nat hugged him tightly. "thank you. you have no idea how much this means to me." she whispers. tony pats her back gently. "hey, i care about her too, okay? of course i'd do this for her. any one of us would."

nat smiles at him when she let him go, turning back to you and almost crying out in joy when your skin had finally turned back to normal. she let the medical assistants set your bed up and handle your sprained ankle before going back to sit by you. the team left her alone with you once again.

it was only about an hour later did you wake up, squinting when bright lights shone down on you. you moved around but you felt hands around your left and you heard a familiar voice.

"and remember when you dragged wanda to pull that prank on me with you and after you did, i grounded you like i was your mum or something?" you hear her chuckle, still not noticing that you've woken up.

"i didn't mind, though. frankly, i don't think i would ever mind if you continued acting like my mother or something," you spoke and she immediately tore her gaze from your hands, looking at you, now wide awake.

"bub!" she hugs you so tightly you didn't think you could breathe. you still returned the hug though, laughing. "i was worried you might still have some palladium in your bloodstream."

"wait, palladium?" you asked her in shock. "yeah, the dart that got you in that alley, it contained palladium. it's highly toxic so we used lithium dioxide to counter it. speaking of the dart, i'm going to find out who did this to you and they're never going to see the light of day for putting us through all of this." nat says, disturbingly calm.

"yeah...you do that," you tell her, slightly scared. "but palladium? in my blood? how cool is that? i had literal metal in my blood! i could've become like tony but like...palladium woman or something." you said excitedly.

"you do know we already have metal in our blood, right bub?" nat questions in amusement. "oh." you say dumbly. "and palladium don't belong in our body and you literally almost died because of it." your mouth opened but no words came out.

"speaking of, can you please not do that again? i really thought i was gonna lose you." she whispers, stroking your hair. "oh yeah, of course. i'll just announce to the whole world to not target the youngest avenger," you joke, smile dropping when nat gave you a stern look.

"nat, being part of the avengers at my age undoubtedly means i'll be a target for the bad people out there, but i don't care because while i get to kick ass, i know all of you have my back when it's my ass that's kicked. and i think that's the best part of being an avenger; the sense of security i get having you amazing people as my teammates." you tell her honestly and she smiles softly.

"oh come here you," she pulls you in for another hug but this time it's better because you could still breathe. you make yourself comfortable, snuggling into her.

"did you mean it?" she asked and you look up at her in confusion. "mean what?"

"when you said you wouldn't mind me acting like your mother."

"of course i do, you're like the mother i never had. i wouldn't even mind you being my actual mother." you say without a second thought, eyes widening when you realised what you had said. you swore under your breath, knowing you've just made it awkward between you two.

"i– really?" despite the teams efforts to make her see the truth, it was much more meaningful when she heard you say it yourself. "y–yeah.." you admit sheepishly.

"then you wouldn't mind if i actually adopted you?" she asks carefully, gauging your reaction. your jaw dropped, eyes going wide once again. "are you serious?!"

"yeah." she smiles at you fondly. "no! of course i won't mind!" you hug her tightly, tears forming in your eyes. you had gone all your life without parents so this was a huge thing for you. not only were you going to finally have a mother, but the most amazing woman you knew was going to be your mother.

"mum?" you tested the title, smiling when she acknowledged it. you were now crying in joy.

"hey, don't cry." she soothes you, running a hand up and down your back. "no, no, i'm just so happy. this is the best day of my life." you tell her. "me too, bub."

you stayed in her arms until you fell back asleep, nat tucking you in before going back to sit down on the chair. she looked down at you fondly.

sure, she was scared of the big step she was about to take with you but she had you with her and she knew that was enough. "i love you, y/n." she whispers, planting a kiss on the side of your head.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa @rqmanoff @abitofeverythinggg @andreasworlsboring101 @cay-writes-fan-fiction514 @teenwonder @sevenmorningstars @fleurlovesbucky

[dienamights]

A Reverberate Lullaby | K.Bakugou

✎ The echoing howls stalk you, a ghost hunched on your shoulders, wailing like a child calling for rescue, who cries with no tears. Chanting for a hero that is willing to pick up the pieces of its soul and being, yet it is only left to wither. For the ghost has lost faith that such others exist and can only be cured by finding them, for you are the ghost of your world and love is the only true exorcist.

✎ Protagonists: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

✎ Word count: 4.1K

✎ Category: hurt/comfort, Implied Mature Content MDNI, Prohero!au, Established relationship!au

✎ Caution(!): Implied Mature Content MDNI, mention of depressive state, toxic family, toxic coping mechanism, mention of reader’s weight gain and thoughts about self worth. Please keep in mind while every person’s reaction to depression is different, don’t belittle anyone’s battle when you don’t understand it.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s taking care! Still on hiatus BUT I’m here to post my contribution to the Mental Health Awareness collab by @doinmybesthere​ ! This has been in the works for a while because I kept scarping ideas for triggering me lmao. This piece is very personal to me and I’m glad I am able to share my experience with you all, I hope that it might help anyone out there in reaching out and asking for help because I know how difficult and scary it might be! Please check out everyone’s contribution that they worked so hard for! kisses kisses take care!

OOH ALSO! Thank you so much for 900 followers aaaaaah! You’re all so amazing and if anyone has suggestions for an event to hold in June lemme know! I’ll also think of some ideas

» Masterlist | Requests | Taglist

The morning sun barely rises and peaks through your blinds, sunshine starting to kiss at your cheeks as you squint at the light, the room welcoming the warmth that is being brought into it after the evening’s chill that made you curl tighter in on yourself, clasping whatever heat you could muster than to turn around and find it in the heating pad of a body that lays next to you. 

An alarm only just rings before quickly being shut off, followed by the creaking of the bed when the person behind you shifts, shifts again, another time, before getting up and stalking to the bathroom, after letting an elongated sigh when they sit at the edge of the bed, not acknowledging your presence accompanying theirs. The door clicking closed before the trickling of water fills the quiet room.

Your clock reads 5 am when you squint at it, and you blink at the time before you go on with your routine, setting up breakfast while your boyfriend gets ready to go to work. 

Oddly enough, you don’t really quite remember when you started working on the food, all that you could see in front of you is nothing but a scene that looks like it’s out of a broken TV - there’s just so much static. The voices are distorted, as if they’re coming from a defective radio.

“Listen, this ain’t about me, this is about you and how you-”

“What about me? Huh? That you see me as nothing but a burden? No, you can say it-”

“You wanna hear me fuckin’ say it then fine! This is about you sitting on yer ass all day obsessing over her while she wouldn’ give you the time of day y/n. When will you fuckin’ realize that?”

The scene blurs and sways, and you feel your mind run at a speed you didn’t know it could muster, and you’re unable to keep up with it. The knife in your hand shakes vigorously and barely misses your fingers when you bring it down to cut the vegetables.

The sound of the bedroom door shutting closed alerts you, straightening your back when you hear the drop of your boyfriend’s gauntlet by his chair at the dining table. Katsuki approaches you with careful steps, his still ungloved hand circles your waist before pressing his lips to your temple, a gruff greeting of a whisper laced in between.

“G’morning.”

The familiar scent of caramel mixed in with his aftershave welcomes you, wraps around you and cradles you, promising everlasting safety and happiness. Yet, your heart wrenching sobs and muffled crash of your laptop against your floor that rings in your ears tell a different story, shrieking at you, roaring about your failures, mocking your entire existence.

“Made gohan, should be ready in a minute.” you mumble back, posture stiff at the close proximity of Katsuki and you feel the curl of his lips in displeasure pressing into your temple from both not reciprocating his greeting and your choice of meal for the morning. “You don’ eat gohan,” 

“s’why I’m making it.” The quick retreat from your figure is like a slap to your face, and you barely stop yourself from reaching out and forcing his arms back around you. Because it's the bite in his voice that halts your movement. 

“You’re still going?” you finally turn to take a look at him, the garnets in his eyes shifting, bleeding from hurt, betrayal, confusion, you really weren’t sure. And by God you had no energy left to try and figure out. “Yes I’m still going Katsuki, they’re my-”

“Yer really listenin’ to the bullshit spillin’ outta ya? This isn’t about em being your family y/n, we’ve been through with it already.” the space between you two feels like endless miles, pieces of the broken bridge you both worked so hard to build the only evidence of it ever being there, the rest crumbling into the valley in between your bodies.

“No, you’ve been through with it, I just wanna make things right, m-maybe I can fix it”

“It ain’t yours to fix y/n, when will you realize that?”

“No!” there you go again, sobbing pathetically. “W-why can’t I have a family, huh? Why- why can’t I, fuck, have a family that just loves and supports me a-and just doesn’t- ” your voice croaks, not failing to notice how Katsuki stepped away from the wreck in front of him. Probably having had enough of you, had enough of how troubling and bothersome you are, probably wondering how he got roped with all your shit and got dragged into your mess of a life.

His hands feel like scolding fire when they’re placed on your shoulders, halting their shaking as you cry into the palm of your hand to muffle the sobs, a habit Katsuki has been working so hard on to help you overcome, saddened to see you try and hide your vulnerability from him.

“Because they never made an effort, so why should you?” The tugging at your heart burns, the swallowed sobs feel like needles prickling at your lungs, making breathing feel like an impossible chore. You can’t help but feel restrained whenever you’re presented with the truth, especially unfiltered and unsugarcoated like right now, you know he’s right, you’ve known he was right a long time ago, but admitting it out loud just felt borderline impossible. 

So you do what you do best, push him away, all the strength you can muster barely budges his figure, the meal forgotten on the counter as you run and lock the bedroom door on yourself.

Your footsteps feel heavy, dreading the topics and scenes you’re bound to relive. The grip on the strap of your shoulder bag tightening as you push the glass door open. A sigh escapes past your lips again as you enter the restaurant, half-heartedly smiling at the hostess before making your way inside to look for them.

It’s always the same scenery, the kind that always makes you want to run away to the other direction instead of being dragged down into whatever hell this is. And you pause to question yourself, again, why you actually agreed to put yourself out there.

There they are, seated in the four person table, with two empty seats, one for yourself and the other for the sibling your mother always hoped to have instead of you.

Your mother’s pursed lip could be seen from where you stand at the entrance, the clicking of her tapping foot sounding as bad as grinding metals in your ear, you hate it, despise it

It’s the same clicking you learned to memorize, to anticipate, to fear, when she passed by your room, the clicking that made you smother your face in your pillows and swallow your sobs, because the sound of you crying brought her more distress and annoyance than concern for her daughter.

With another tug at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, you approach the table, hugging your father when he stands up and nodding to your mom when she eyes your figure.

“Good morning mother. It’s good to see you.”

“What’s wrong with your hair?”

Here we go, you breathe out before tugging at a strand of hair, spitting out your words “nothing’s wrong with it.”

“Then why does it look awful like that?”

There are times like these where you are left to question your reasoning for accepting whatever invitation you received from your parents to have brunch with them after all those months, a moment of weakness deceiving you into believing it was better than to spend it in your empty apartment, with the silence that ate away at your sanity every second. The only evidence of life in it other than yours was the recently cleaned dishes and the note thanking you for the meal, the promise of cuddles and movies tonight making you gain just a little more patience, barely.

You refrain from answering, your response is to lower your head, drag the dining chair before plopping on it, a dreary sigh escaping your lips as you scoot your chair closer to the table. Your mother never changes, it’s been a while since you were able to move out of her home, and while your father tries to tell you that these brunches are a way to reconnect with them, you yourself know that it’s merely a chance for your mother to nitpick at everything you ever did or are doing since you left.

“How have you been y/n.” your father smiles at you, both of you ignoring the sound of your mother kissing her teeth when her attempted jab at you is ignored. “Uh, I uh I’ve been good, I just wrapped up with my exams and so far things have been-” 

“How is your hero boyfriend?” 

For a second, you contemplate whether to ignore her question and keep conversing with your dad, dreading the questions that are to be pushed your way regarding Katsuki, of which will be used as bragging material for when she meets whatever group of friends she associates herself with, but you know better than to ignore her with the way she gets when she isn’t fed with attention. 

“He’s uh, good.”

“Why isn’t he here today? What, too good to meet us?” your mother nags, and for the love of God, would that fucking clicking ever stop?

“No, he’s doing his job of, you know, being a hero.”

“Is he now? Well, what about you, hm?” She cocks her head as her nails tap the table. ”Did you think your father and I wouldn’t figure out you got fired?”

“How-” the gritting of your teeth is deafening at this point, your jaw clenching so tightly as you and your mother stare each other down. “Your dad pulled some strings, it isn’t that hard. So tell me, you like leeching off of him after you were done with us?”

“This isn’t, I just- I was- I, I had a lot of university work piling up a-and I couldn’t make time for my shifts and I just, it was just so hard for me to get out of bed these days and I.” why are you doing this? Why are you explaining yourself to people that don’t deserve it? Why are you feeding off of their acceptance, knowing damn well you never got it, and that thing was never gonna change. 

“Oh, I don’t wanna hear about you not getting out of bed, you’re here now aren’t you? This is all in your head y/n. You need to stop talking nonsense, what’re people gonna say about you, about me, when they hear you?” 

It feels just like yesterday, your figure standing and facing your full length mirror, your reflection eyeing you with identical vacant eyes. Fingers running through your bed head, a wince escaping you at the movement. Bringing your hand up and catching a glimpse of a slight swollen purple bruise along your wrist and the dried blood on your knuckles, the skin stretching upon rotating your wrist and causing notable pain.

Alas, that pain paled in comparison to when your mom barged into your room, blaming you for the way you were acting and belittling your reasoning. Beckoning your father over to replace your broken vanity and for your house maid to disinfect the space, the place sparkling clean and void of any evidence of what had transpired the day prior. 

The shattered glass was picked up and thrown out, the splatters of blood were wiped clean, and whenever you brought up, what your mom refers to as ‘the temper tantrum’, you’re ignored by both your parents as they continued about their day, fearing the shame it would bring upon their name if the event was to catch others’ attention. 

“Good morning! I’ll be your server for the day. What can I get you?” the foreign voice sounds more comforting than your own mother’s, and you almost laugh at the irony of it, but you only return her smile and take a look at the menu. Lighting up a smidge at the name of one of the dishes, while your parents place their order.

“Can I please get the soufflé pancake?” you look up to catch the horrified look on your mother’s face, followed by her clicking her tongue and shaking her head as if your choice of food was shameful. 

“Certainly-”

“Uh, no she won’t be having that. Get her the Honzen Ryori,” your mother eyed your figure -whatever was visible to her from across the table- before turning to face the server again “maybe cut down on the rice, God knows she doesn’t need the extra calories.” and waves her off, disregarding your protests and tapping her nail against the table top, her annoying method in demanding your silence, which you subconsciously react to, snapping your mouth shut when the sound reaches your ears.

“What was that for? You know I like having sweet breakfasts,” was fuming even close to what you are feeling? Probably not. “Yes I can clearly see that, you’ve let yourself go as well. Do you think that boyfriend of yours will stick around when you start putting on even more weight?”

At a loss for words, you turn to your father, who has been quiet this whole time, for any sense of support when it comes to his wife. But the way he presses his lips together tells you all you need to know, how just because he isn’t bad as her, doesn’t make him that great of a parent. That standing by while you have been bullied your entire childhood and well into your adulthood is just as bad as being the cause of it. 

“God forbid he realizes how much of a train wreck you really are and throws you on the side of the street, because you know damn well we won’t be here to pick you up.”

It began as a whispering in the air. The day had been beautiful -well, as beautiful as it can be with the kind of day you’re having- and the sky was like a dome of plasma-blue. The clouds had looked like airy anvils drifting under the gleaming disc of sun. People quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. The postcard-perfect sky started changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade merged in with the flaming orange and mesmerizing purple as the sun sunk deep into the horizon, before beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of cloud start to form, blocking out the old-gold color of the sun.

The first splatter of rain hits you when you’re halfway across the street, dismissing the need to take shelter under the roof of the buildings like some passersby are doing, hoping to see out the shower. Droplets of moisture begin to drip onto your head, sprinkling onto you like a gardener’s hose. It was well after your meal with your parents, and you had spent the last few hours walking aimlessly through the streets, making sure to avoid those covered by your boyfriend during his patrol. Hoping, praying, that something will clear your head, will help your poor jumbled mess of a mind forget about this entire nightmare of a day.

Should’ve listened to him 

The rainfall intensifies, the drops drumming against the hood of the cars that you pass by, there is so much rain that the sound blurs into one long, whirring noise, reminding you of the blades of the fan that you stuck your finger in, that one time when you were left alone in your house when you were only five years of age. Eventually, they fade into a musical chime as you push your drenched hair away from your face and feel the vibration from your phone as it rings the ninth, maybe tenth time. 

He told me so. 

Tall apartment complex building; you couldn’t see its end from where you stand. You shiver as you approach it, the doorman - bless his heart - running and placing his umbrella to futilely shield you from the rain, and you just laugh and tell him that you’re already drenched and just waiting to go back home.

God forbid he realizes how much of train wreck I am

Not wanting to dampen the people at the elevator and make them uncomfortable, you take the stairs up to your shared apartment, you usually don't mind the exercise but with how heavy you feel after the rain and day spent up on your sore feet, all you think about is locking yourself in your room and discover what kind of new façade could you try and fool Katsuki with when he reaches home.

Just how I trick him into thinking I’m not with him to leech off of him

Eventually and with a struggle, you make it to the door, dreading the sight you might come to face, almost hoping for a black hole to emerge and swallow you whole.

What would people say about me? Do people think I’m crazy?

With a forced exhale out of your lungs, you fetch the key from your bag to unlock the door, but it’s wrenched open before you have a chance to insert your key.

“Where the hell have you been?” 

Your eyes meet the beautiful rubies of Katsuki, and despite his anger that always overcompensates his worry, you smile and throw yourself on him. The shivering ceasing when he wraps his warm arms around you and that loving caramel scent engulfs you, in spite of how your hair is drenching his shirt and how you sniff against his neck.

“You need a shower, you’re shivering.”

“Take one with me?” you look up at him through your lashes, and he blinks at your uncharacterized boldness but agrees nonetheless, helping you out of your clothes and turning on the hot water before stepping in with you.

It is a struggle to help you clean up when all you do is grab at him, whether they’re your hands on his shoulders to lower him to kiss you, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your breasts against him, or palming his hardening cock as the poor man tries to shampoo your hair.

“Would ya knock it off? I’m tryna help you here shitty woman” you frown and squint your eyes when the shampoo gets close to them. “I wanna have sex.” 

“Yea I can fuckin tell, just lemme-” you bring his arms down and press his palms to your boobs, letting go of his wrist when he starts squeezing at them. “Do you not want to?” he gulps, his dick twitching at the feeling of your soft mounds in his hands, your nipples covered up by the suds from the shampoo, as your finger traces the underside of his cock. “Yeah, I uh, fuck, I do, just- you need to wash up so you don’t get sick, alright?”

“Do you not think I’m pretty anymore?” you pout childishly, tears threatening to escape your eyes, and they burn as you close them when he washes the product out of your hair, a deep frown on his lips when you open your eyes back again. “The fuck you on about? That rain really fucked with ya?”

“Are you gonna get rid of me when you realize how much of a mess I am?” you whisper, your voice muffled under the sound of the shower above you, and you keep quiet as he helps you scrub your body, but your boyfriend is observant, he isn’t fucking dense.

“What do you want, right now?” he lowers himself to your level when he’s done, his hands stroking your cheeks as he eyes the way the water droplets cling to your lashes, but still not missing the red rimming around your eyes.

“I just wanna for- I uh, I wanna have sex.” you mumble, a plea hidden underneath your words, a plea to help you forget, to help you bury this day behind you and pretend it never happened.

What you don’t expect is the way that Katsuki pulls your naked wet body out of the bathroom and drops you on the bed, feeling your bodies dampening the bed as he hovers over you, no words are spoken between you as he kisses and nips at your skin. Marking it up and down as he all but worships your body, strands of his hair tangle between your fingers when you run your hands through it, arching your back at the feeling of his tongue tasting your slick.

He doesn’t let up until you cry out, and not in pleasure, your sobs far beyond those he loves to hear when he’s denying you an orgasm. No, they’re sobs that wreck your whole body, kicking away at his shoulders as you curl in on yourself and wail into the sheets. Sitting on his haunches on the floor, Katsuki’s eye soften at your figure, the way your shoulders are shaking and how -yet again- you’re trying to muffle your cries with the sheets this time, pressing your face against the mattress in an attempt to lower your noise, as your mother would call it.

“Hey, look at me” you feel his lips grazing your ear as he kisses it, pressing his lips against your temple, fingers unwrapping your fist against the sheet and digging into your hands and pressing kisses against the nail marks in the palm of your hands. “There she is, there’s my girl.” you hear when you lift your head from the bed, sight blurry from your shed tears but still easy to distinguish Katsuki even between billions of people.

You sniff when he kisses at your lids, groan when he chuckles and calls you ‘snot the naught’ when you wipe your nose with the back of your hand, beaming when he hears you let out one weak chuckle at the way he teases you. Still pressing his lips against any surface of skin he can reach.

“You don’t have to talk about it you know, to me at least” he mumbles to you when you’re both dressed in your sleepwear and are cuddling on the dry side of the bed, opting to change the sheet the next day. “Maybe, maybe we can get someone who can help you, you know.” you press your face deeper between his neck and shoulder, shuddering when his warm palms rub your back from under your shirt. 

“I can make some calls, get in contact with someone.” you lift your head. “But I can’t afford-” he tuts and frowns at you “None of that.” 

“Remember what I said when we agreed to move in?” you do, you just love the sound of his voice when he says it, feels like he’s making all these promises all over again. “Tell me.”

“Told ya I’d be whoever you want me to be, whoever you need me to be. I’ll be yer mom, even better than that bitch, I’ll support and love you unconditionally.” you sniff and tighten your hold against him as he presses his lips against your cheek. 

“I’d be better than yer pussy dad, you can rely on me any time and I’ll live up to all your expectations. And callin me daddy is always a plus” he tangles his legs with your own when you wiggle away from him, laughing and giving you no chance of escape, not that you are even thinking of it. 

“I’d even be yer genius fuckin nanny that taught you to tell yer mom to go fuck herself when you were four,” your suppressed giggles lights him up and he can’t help but chuckle as well. “I’ll be anything and everything you’ll ever need, baby. I’ll be your goddamn hero.”

The sun comes out again, casting slanted beams of light across the buildings. Steam rises slowly from the greenery. It rises up eerily and drifts mist-like towards the molten-gold sun, right before it escapes into the abyss. The image is so vivid that it stays with you for as long as you remember. Because on this exact day, the shrieking that follows you everywhere you go, haunting you and mocking you, suddenly is nowhere to be found. And all you can hear is the comforting sound of Katsuki as he hums you a lullaby to sleep.

aaaah I hope you like it!

[alygatorwrites]

can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.

pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.

a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not

thank u so much aly 💖🥺

reciprocation

pairing: reiner braun x reader

a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!

↳ to be added to my taglist, please fill out this ♡form♡

as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.

you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.

and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.

the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.

you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.

you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.

when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.

you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”

pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough. 

that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.

pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”

you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.

damn you, pieck.

the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.

still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.

then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.

conflicted? why?

there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.

two days pass.

you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms. 

freedom at last.

you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.

you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -

“hey.”

speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.

reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.

“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.

and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.

the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man. 

his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.

“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.

“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”

“that bad?”

“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”

reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.

hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”

reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”

“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”

reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.

“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.

is he scared or something? what the hell?

“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”

the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”

“ … why me?”

reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”

“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”

it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden. 

there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.

so you decide to tell reiner why you love him. 

you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.

the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.

the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.

god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.

that’s when he reaches out to you.

reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him. 

when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece. 

heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.

this utterly amazing man likes you. always has. 

but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.

because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.

“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.

by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.  

reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”

you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone. 

there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.  

the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.

it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.

reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.

as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.

you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.

as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.

“i like you,” reiner murmurs.

the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.

[peebeexd]

OHHH ?? HI YES ID LOVE TO HEAR UR HEADCANON(s) HIIII im sitting criss cross apple sauce

ok ok so i actually have a document filled with headcannons from bfb/tpot there isnt very much but here are some i have (the ones that are bolded are the ones i based my crappy sketch on from earlier)

• Puffball hates having to fly people around everywhere so they purposely stopped changing sizes so people dont beg them to fly them around as much. Unfortunately, people still ask her to fly them around and its driving her insane.

Every single time Tennis ball goes into Golf ball’s lab with out her knowing, he leaves little toy dinosaurs in hidden areas and sees how long it takes for her to notice. She’s only found 1 out of the 1000+ dinos he’s hidden (based of something i did when i was around 9 whenever i went into my brother’s room on my own lol)

Pen is embarrassed of his drawings ever since X said harshly critisized him in bfb 5 so now he hides them from everyone, including his best friends (Blocky, Eraser, Snowball). All of his friends are sad because of this and actively encourage him to show his drawings because Pen’s drawings are really good. Pen is very slowly starting to get his confidence back (based on bfb 5)

Fries sometimes eats his own fries’ when no one is looking. Gelatin caught him once and now whenever Fries gets mad at him for taking a fry, he says something along the lines of “but how come you can eat your own fries and i cant?? Unfair! >:(“ and half-jokingly throws a tantrum. This makes Fries embarrassed (half-based of the bfdi recommended character introductions)

Stapy chews on hard things (metal, wood, plastic, etc.) a lot for no reason. This would normally be fine, except for the fact that he has raser sharp teeth and usually breaks things that he keeps chewing. He’s broken multiple pencils, pens, and has even bitten a massive chunk out of his E.X.I.T desk once because of this (based of the time a kid in my class bit so hard on his pen that he broke it)

Fries has a really bad fear of the dark that’s been with him ever since he was a kid and every single time he is in the dark, he always acts like he’s unafraid until he hears something/someone and then he goes into the fetal position and bawls his eyes out

Puffball gets anxious and panicky in the dark only because they can’t see shit, but they don’t actually have a fear of the dark

Barf bag has trouble walking because her knee keeps dislocating and relocating all the time and is supposed to wear a knee brace to keep the knee in place but never wears it because she can’t be fucked having to readjust the brace every 10 minutes (based on me heavily projecting on the ‘Barf bag has a walking disability’ theory because 1. i actually really like this theory a lot and 2. i need a character to vent my frustrations)

Bell hates birds, not because they scare her or anything like that, its because they always get tangled up in her string and squawk until eventually it either set free, or unfortunately it passes (usually its set free and rarely ever dies). That and also birds love to shit all over Bell lmao

Naily likes knives and has a knife collection. Her favorite knife is a rainbow dagger that has a purple handle and the blade sorta resembles a heart

Fries has a tiny, fluffy, bobtail cat named “Puffy” (named after Puffball because the kitten reminds him of them). Puffball found out this and was offended. Not because of the name, but because Fries never told them about the kitten because Puffball absolutely LOVES cats

Tennis ball has a intense fear of dogs, running away from one in fear any single time he sees one. This includes small puppies aswell. Golf ball found out this when he woke her up at 3 AM, begging for her to let him inside her house after being chased by a small toy poodle. (based off a fanfic i wrote a while ago)

Foldy likes jumpscaring people a lot because she finds it cute/funny. She’s had many things happen when she’s jumpscared someone, but by far one of the funniest things that has happened was Markers 5 second delayed scream of death

Puffball really likes hugs but is often to embarrassed to ask anyone for a hug

Bell has a bad habit of subconsciously whacking someone in the face when she gets scared. One time Puffball scared her by accident and gave them a concussion

Profily often cries themself to sleep because nobody ever seems to remember them, not even their own family (the only person who remembers him is Announcer speaker box and they are 100% in a relationship because i said so [fact])

Puffball is really scared of sleeping but tries their best to hide the fear by pretending to be asleep until everyone is asleep and then just does whatever. Golfball found out and now tries her best to make Puffball calm and tired so they can fall asleep without being absolutely terrified.

Puffball likes flying higher than anyone else to seem taller than everyone they know

thats about it! sorry most of them are of my fav characters lol [cries] I'll make another post with more headcannons later on :)