#since i feel like i have to bring out the disclaimers for anons again: if you think im genuinely upset by this i implore you to touch grass

[lovphobic]

i KNOW my town newspaper did not just call dysautonomia a "difficult to pronounce" condition. i am RIGHT HERE (<- xeroderma pigmentosum) and ive BEEN right here. but u dont see MY condition getting a town awareness day

[mcuamerica]

Loving Flames | Part One

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: Amarantha decided to 'gift' you to Eris Vanserra to get back at Rhys. Requested by anon here.

Warnings: 18+ only, canon level violence, alludes to SA, the word whore shows up a few times, (again not proofread), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Word Count: 4.6k

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

Eris met you when you were 35, years after the war. It was at a High Lords meeting, with your father bringing you along to introduce you to the court. It snapped for Eris in that moment.

You were wearing a spectacular navy blue and silver gown, fabric attached to your shoulders to make it look like a cape. Your wings were tucked in tight behind you to keep from bumping into anyone.

He tried to speak to you that night, tell you about the bond, but his father pulled him away quickly and he didn’t see you again.

The next time he saw you, however, you were by Rhysand’s side in all black, mourning the loss of your father and your mother. And your wings. While Tamlin’s brothers didn’t kill you, they almost did. Taking time with you is what allowed you to live, unfortunately for you.

Eris tried approaching you again, needing to say at least something to you. This time, Azriel, the ever obedient guard dog, growled and told him to leave. These ceremonies were for friends only. Which the Autumn Court was not. That night, Eris gave up on the idea that you and him could be together. He decided to leave you be, and avoid you at all cost.

But then Amarantha came sweeping in. Rhysand brought you to the ball with all of the High Lords when she took their powers. As since Rhysand’s father killed Tamlin’s, she wanted to punish him more than just taking him to bed.

“Beron, which one of these is your heir?” She asked, perched atop the throne. You were standing close to Rhys, his arm around your back. Eris, even though the bond was buried deep down, could feel the nerves radiating down that bridge. You were terrified. That she was going to hurt you. Or Rhys. And what better way than letting your enemy do it or you.

“I am,” Eris spoke before his father could utter a word. His father shot him a deadly look, but Amarantha’s smile widened.

“Good. I’m gifting her to you.” She said and smirked, nodding towards you.

Your eyes widened. Rhys looked to Eris with an even deadlier look than his father, almost saying ‘if you hurt her, you will be killed slowly and I’ll enjoy it.’ Eris stepped forward, soliciting a growl to come from deep within Rhys’s throat.

“Easy, bat, I will be gentle.” He said, unable to drop the mask. He forced his hand to remain steady as he reached it out to you.

You shrunk closer to Rhysand, listening as he leaned down and whispered something not even fae eyes could detect. You looked up to Rhys with pleading eyes.

“Hurry, now, I do not have all day.” Amarantha said, staring at her nails as if she were bored.

With a final nod from Rhysand, you shakily took Eris’s hand.

He did not pull you, instead allowing you to walk with him back to where his father and brothers stood. After that that, he let go of your hand. He promised himself he would protect you, even if you all thought he was a monster. He would never harm you, and never make you do anything you didn’t want to. Not as long as he could help it. His mate. You were under his protection now, and he would be damned if he let anyone harm you ever again.

Deciding to make you suffer even more, since you were the reason Rhysand knew about Tamlin’s brothers hurting you, Amarantha assigned you to a tiny room connected to Eris’s. It didn’t have a fireplace, and it barely fit the small bed that was in it. There was a small room filled with revealing clothing. Specially placed there so you could please Eris, according to her.

But months went by and he did not touch you. He would escort you to court dinners, offering you more food than the small portion you were allowed. You never accepted, eyes always darting for your brother to bring you some sort of comfort. But, Rhys was barely there. If he was, his eyes were cast downwards as Amarantha stroked his arm or his leg, making it clear that Rhys was her obedient dog, her whore. It made you sick to your stomach, but you knew he did it to keep your family safe. So maybe one day you could return to the sanctuary of Velaris.

You flinched slightly as Eris rested a hand on top of yours. “You need to eat, my lady,” he whispered. What seemed to be concern filled his eyes.

“So you can treat me like a pet?” You asked, swallowing your fear.

“So you can survive this.” He said. “I-“ he glanced up as Amarantha stood up to make an announcement. “I will come to your room tonight and I want you to have strength.” He said before she began to speak.

A chill ran down your spine at the thought of what you imagined on your head. You looked down to your plate, taking a small bite of the food. You were no good if you starved yourself. And if you didn’t please Eris like he wanted to, either he or Amarantha would punish you. Probably in front of your brother. Or make him do it.

Eris hummed in agreement to your action, before his attention looked towards Amarantha.

That night, you were shivering in your bedroom. The light set of pajamas doing nothing to keep you warm in the cool room, surrounded by nothing but stone. You perked your head up when the door connecting to Eris’s room opened. He normally used the main one connected to the hall, but tonight he must have wanted to be discrete. Bile rose on your throat in anticipation of what was about to happen, tears welling in your eyes as you body shook from the cold.

“I’m taking you to see your brother.” Eris said quietly. You looked at him, sitting up even more as you curled into yourself more.

“Why?” You asked

Eris’s heart broke at the sight of you, shivering from the cold and near tears from what you imagined he would do. He could be the villain in your story as long as he could keep you safe. But he needed you sane, as well. He would not let you deteriorate under this gods-forsaken mountain.

“Did you not hear Amarantha? She is sending Rhys to do scouting for the next few months. And I’d like for you to get a proper goodbye.” Eris said. “Here,” he said, pulling out the long, wool lined robe for you. “You’ll be warmer in this.” He even warmed it up with his internal heat before he came in here.

You slowly reached out, grabbing it before wrapping it around your body. He saw as you sunk into its warmth, wish that it was him you could find such comfort in.

He held out a hand and you slowly took it. “I’ll need to act like I’m taking you somewhere else, so just stay close and don’t talk.” He whispered before wrapping an arm around your waist. While you would have normally recoiled, you could only lean further into his body heat, much warmer than any you’ve know before. You assumed it was his internal flames burning under his skin, maybe causing his temperature to be much warmer than others. It must have been a nice luxury to have. Though, you were certain he had a fireplace in his room. Not that it would be hard for him to conjure flame anyway.

Eris stole glances at you, hoping that this would make you happier. You hadn’t seen Rhys, at least not at a distance where you could embrace or talk, for at least a year. But Eris knew Rhys would take your unwillingness to eat as Eris forbidding it, or some other malicious thing. Your eyes were sunken, each piece of clothing hung from your body looser as the days passed. You looked tired, exhausted, as if someone was draining the life force from you. No matter how many times Eris had asked, you were never allowed outside with him. Not even on one of the upper balconies. Your punishment for being alive while her friend was dead. It seemed Amarantha wanted to punish you more than Rhys. And Eris was just glad he could be there to protect you from most of her wrath, claiming that his gift shouldn’t be harmed. The things she threatened to do… Eris hoped she wouldn’t figure out you were his mate. Because if she did… even if her and Beron were allies, Eris didn’t think she would spare you much longer.

Eris knocked on a door, one of the shadow wraiths opening it. Your lips turned into a gentle smile as you greeted Nuala, happy to see a familiar face.

At the site of you, Nuala stepped aside. Rhys had bruises all around his neck, where he was staring at them in the mirror. You swallowed and looked up at Eris.

“Five minutes.” He said and stepped back, nodding at you to go in. You tentatively took a step inside, and once you were over the threshold, Nuala shut the door. Rhys turned, his eyes widening as he finally took account of who was in the room.

“(Y/N),” he breathed out rushing over to you. He looked you over, frowning at how poorly you looked. He cupped your cheeks and searched your eyes. Searching for the carefree little sister he knew. “Are you okay? How did you get here?” He asked.

Rhys must have put a shield around the room before Nuala opened the door, if he did not know Eris brought you here.

“I’m fine… I wanted to say goodbye. You are leaving for the outside soon.” You said, your voice quiet and weak. If Amarantha was trying to torture Rhys, she was doing a good job at it.

“Has he hurt you?” He asked.

You shook your head, wanting to say how well Eris was treating you. But the look on Rhys’s eyes told you he wouldn’t believe you. Maybe you needed to make more of an effort to be involved in this ridiculous, cruel court. But would that make you any better than Beron? Would it help you? Would it help your brother?

Rhys pulled you in for a hug and you wrapped your arms around his chest, burying your head in it. “Please come back.” You whispered, holding him tighter.

“I will never leave you here.” He whispered, rubbing your back. “And I will do everything I can to get you away from him.” He said as he pulled away.

“Did Amarantha do this?” You asked as you traced the small circular bruises on his neck.

“She likes to mark her whores.”

You frowned, looking up at the cold look in his eyes. “I’m proud of you.” You whispered. “I want you to know that… you are doing what is right for our family. And I’m so proud that I can call you my brother.”

You could see the words didn’t hit like you wanted them to… and your heart sank at the thought of Rhys not thinking he was doing enough. Or that he wasn’t good enough. “I will see you soon, (Y/N).” He said, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.

You glanced at the time on the clock, then noticed Rhys had a balcony to go outside. “Fly for me, brother.” You whispered before stepping back. “I will see you soon.” You said before turning around and walking out of the room. You gave Nuala another smile before finding Eris with his back against the opposite hallway wall.

You walked up to him and took a quiet, internal breath. “I’d like new clothes.” You said to him.

His rose his eyebrows, shocked at your sudden urge to talk to him. “Excuse me?” It came out more rude than he meant it, but didn’t let that show.

“I-“ you started and then took a visible deep breath. “If I am to be your gift, I want to be presentable. I would like new clothes.” You said. You had no intention of doing anything for Eris, and the more you could avoid him, the better. But if Amarantha thought Eris favored you, maybe she would let you out. Maybe you could fool her into thinking you were enjoying it. And maybe that would be enough for her to let you leave your room by yourself.

“Okay.” Eris said.

It was your turn to be shocked. You thought you would need to convince him a lot more than that.

“Give me a list of clothes you’d like, and I’ll see what I can do.” He answered, then held out his arm. “Now come, you must be tired.” He said.

You tentatively took his arm, still slightly shocked that he didn’t dismiss you. This male that you knew to be cruel and abusive was nothing but kind, gentle, and patient with you. You started to piece together the times you interacted with him, and couldn’t think of a single time were he was mean. Maybe distant, cold, but plenty of faeries were like that. Your brother was like that a lot of the times. It was a mask to keep him safe. Maybe Eris was the same. Maybe you could trust him.

You faltered as he did not stop at your door, but kept walking a few more steps to his. You looked up at him and watched as he opened the door and lead you inside. Maybe you didn’t escape what you dreaded earlier today.

“It’s warmer in here. If you’d like, you can sleep in here. I can take your room.” He said.

You frowned. “What?”

“Every time I see you, you are freezing. And it’s because Amarantha put you in a room that is meant to be a cooler. Why it’s attached to a bedroom, I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s the proper place for the Princess of the Night Court to sleep.”

“But… won’t you get cold?” You asked, glancing to the door that connected the rooms.

“I run hot.” He said, a slight smirk coming to his lips.

“Why are you being nice to me?” You asked.

“Maybe it will be beneficial to me later on.” He said and shrugged. “But I cannot bring myself to harm you.” He said. “In anyway.”

And he showed it. From then on, you stayed in his room. Soon enough, you offered him to come to your room too. Even with the fire, you were still cold. You supposed it was the lack of food, of sunlight, of fresh air. It was not good for your body. So, you asked him to join you in the bed. Just to sleep. And he obliged, staying on his side of the bed. Until one night, where you were particularly cold after a ‘winter’ ball was thrown.

You turned over to Eris, who seemed to be asleep. You were in an oversized sweater and some loose pants. Courtesy of your wardrobe he provided for you. “Eris?” You whispered.

His head turned towards you as he opened one eye, a small smile coming to his lips.

He would act like this whenever you were alone. When no one could see you, he would show you a soft side. A side that had you wondering where all the cruel things said about him came from. This couldn’t be the same male that left your cousin for dead in the Autumn forest. He was so different than how Mor described him. If he was helping you, why wouldn’t he help her?

“Yes, princess?” He asked.

You weren’t even technically a princess, but he insisted on using the nickname. You were surprised it didn’t bother you.

“Can you… make the fire warmer? I’m cold.” You said quietly.

His eyes flickered to the burning hearth before looking back at you. “Can I try something before?” He asked.

You searched his eyes and, as usual, found no malice. Maybe a hint of mischief, if you detected it correctly. You gave him a nod, narrowing his eyes as he asked for you to turn on your side. Your back facing him.

“Do you trust me?” He asked when he noticed your hesitance. You paused at the question. You’ve been asking yourself the same thing for months. Almost a year now. Could you trust Eris? “Remember what I said? I won’t hurt you.” He said.

You slowly took a deep breath, turning your body so your back was facing him. You tensed up when you felt him shift on the bed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling her closer to his warm body. “What- what are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m going to make you warm.” He whispered in l your ear, the breath sending a shiver down your spine. In the best way.

Suddenly, you felt his hand settling on your bicep, and your arm instantly warmed up. You relaxed into the warm, smiling to yourself.

“Is this better?” He asked, rubbing your arm up and done as he held you close.

“Much.” You answered, even leaning into his chest more.

Eris became your anchor Under the Mountain after that. You often found yourself clutching his bicep, not wanting to be far from him. He stayed true to his word. He would not hurt you. And, apparently, he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt you either. One day, you were in the throne room as the court reveled, sitting on a loveseat while you waited for Eris to bring you something to drink. One particularly drunk made stumbled his way to sit next to you and got too close for your liking. Right as he was about to wrap an arm around you, Eris hauled him out of the seat. He pushed him back and said something with a growl you couldn’t hear, and then the male was running out of the room. Not many males approached you after that.

Maybe it was because your brother was gone for so long, or maybe it was because Eris was genuine to you. Even when you were out of the room, when he wore that cool uninterested mask, he was gentle with you. His touch was never too tight or too harsh. Was never too high or too low. He made you comfortable. You were starting to like him. As a friend, at least.

For the next 40 years, you were always around him. Even when Amarantha gave you more freedom, you wanted to be near Eris. Rhys started to notice, but didn't say anything as it was only apparent for your affection to his enemy before Summer, Winter, and Day rebelled. And then Amarantha's reign became increasingly strict. With only High Lord dead, and a new one taking his place, there was more tension than ever. Especially because anyone who was caught doing anything suspicious was whipped or tortured in front of the court. Sometimes, your brother would be the one to hold their minds and do it.

However, after finding out that Autumn and Night had nothing to do with the rebellion, she decided to be nice one day and allow you to the upper levels. She gave you in particular one rule, do not go outside. You couldn't help but watch as your brother went out on one balcony. And on the other, Beron and his sons were laughing. Actually laughing. It was only one month when the High Lord of Summer was killed and a bunch of Winter children were closed. Children. And Amarantha was celebrating you all.

Eris, however, was sat across from you on the couch. He noticed the way you longed to go outside, realizing while he was allowed out to visit his court with his father, you were stuck Under the Mountain. You hadn't been outside in more than 40 years.

"You should go, celebrate." You muttered, motioning to his family. "You may not be able to leave for along time." You said, frowning as you looked to your hands.

"I'm just fine in here." Eris said, resisting the urge to lean over and grab your hand. While you never crossed a line of being intimate, or anywhere near it, you had become friendly with Eris. You were more than glad to curl into his side at night, hold his hand at the dining table, or grab his arm while you walked around the passageways.

Before you could suggest it again, one of Eris's brothers peeked his head into the room. "Eris, bring your whore in here." He said.

You internally winced at the term, and Eris glared at his brother. While many people had called you the same, Eris normally corrected them. Especially his brothers.

"She isn't my whore." He growled out. "And if you call her that one more time, Sol, and I will rip your throat out." He said. "Besides, you know she can't go outside."

"Ah, Amarantha will never know." Sol said and smirked. "We'll distract the bat, you take her out there for some alone time." He said, making his way over to the balcony where Rhys was standing. As Sol pulled him inside, you could visibly see and hear Rhys's growl. He didn't want to be here, but if he could watch you amongst the Vanserras, he would.

"Sol-" Eris called out but groaned when him and one of the other brothers pushed Rhys out to talk to Beron and the Lady of Autumn. About what, you didn't really care. You stayed in your seat, taking a deep breath.

"I could at least open the door." He said and stood up, going over to the free balcony and opening the door to let in the breeze. You stood up, standing in front of the threshold. You closed your eyes as you felt the wind on your face, even if it was light.

The smile that came to your lips took Eris's breath away. Even in this terrible place, you could still find small bits of joy.

You looked down at the gap between you and the rest of the world, Eris standing on the other side. "Thank you." You said quietly to him, holding out your hand for him to take. He squeezed your hand, fighting the urge to pull you over the threshold and into his chest. He could image your giggle and scolding before you stepped back into the room. But before he could answer you, Amarantha burst through the doors with two of her sentries.

"Seems like the little princess can't follow the rules... Ah, Eris, are you trying to disobey my command?" She asked.

Your eyes widened and you immediately dropped Eris's hand. "I didn't go outside." You said quickly.

"No, but you were about to. And Eris was going to help you." She said. Rhys and the others came in.

"Now that I ponder it, I do remember hearing about the two of you sneaking around the passage ways months ago. That wasn't to spy, was it?" She asked. "Acting as lust-crazed fools?"

You never once showed any interest in Eris like that, and yet everyone just assumed the two of you were sleeping together. Or more like Eris was fucking you as he pleased.

"Nothing to say? Too bad." She said and nodded towards the sentries, one of them grabbing you and the other grabbing Eris. Rhys lunged forward to try and protect you, but Eris's brother's grabbed him.

"Relax, bastard, no one's going to hurt the princess." Sol teased.

"What is the meaning of this, my queen?" Beron asked, the ever-loving servant. His wife next to him looked completely uninterested other than a hint of worry for her son.

"We will make sure Eris and the princess never sneak around again." She said, giving a small wave before walking out of the room.

Before you knew it, you were standing in the throne room with Eris on his knees. One of Amarantha's sentries had a whip in his hands. "This is what you get for disobeying my command. And you get to watch princess, for luring him like you did the former High Lord of Spring." She said.

You looked at Eris, then at Rhys, pleading him with your eyes to do something, anything to stop this from happening. Rhys just tilted his head and stood beside Amarantha. Of course he thought Eris tried to pull you out and he would gladly see Eris punished over you.

The sound of the whip rang out, skin ripping underneath it. Beron and his other sons stood, stoically watching the punishment.

"How many month ago was it? 5? You've been sneaking around 5 months?" She asked. You weren't even sneaking around, you were simply walking. "5 more." She said and you struggled against the sentries holding you back. "Oh and another 5 for all those months lying to me." She said.

More sounds of the whip. More skin ripping. You watched as Eris clenched his teeth, never yielding a yell or scream. Like he had endured this before. You, on the other hand, were silently crying. You desperately tried to hold back your tears, but you couldn't.

After the final sound of the whip crack rang out, Eris sagged to the floor. "And 10 more, because I don't like hurting my friends." She said.

"Stop!" You screamed, an instinctual tug at your gut telling you he would bleed out if he received any more. "I'll do anything, stop this. Eris didn't do anything wrong." You begged, the sentries yanking you back as your legs almost gave out from under you.

Rhys shot you a look that essentially told you to shut your mouth, but you didn't see it. You were staring into Amarantha's cold eyes.

"Anything?" She asked. When you let out a whimper and nodded, a side smirk came to her red lips. "What about agreeing to be locked in sweet Eris's room under I die?" She asked. "Seems like a fair trade, since you disobeyed my command of not going outside. And you can't roam the halls with him either."

You let out a gulp, hearing a small whisper from Eris telling you not to do it. "So long as you, or anyone of your behalf, hurts him again. I will stay in his room." You said.

"Unless I command you out to court, you will stay in his room. And I, nor anyone on my behalf, will not hurt him. Until I die." She said.

You stood up straighter, feeling Rhys's eyes on you. "We have a bargain." You said.

"That we do." She said as you used your magic to imprint a tattoo on your back, right where Eris's scars would be. In doing so, you did the same for Amarantha, who only smirked more. "Take him to a healer. And take her to the room." She said. You stumbled as they pushed you towards the giant doors. You watched as Eris's sagging body was hauled up by his brothers, nearly sobbing at the sight of him.

As the sentries pushed you through Eris's room's door and shut it behind you, you suddenly realized what you agreed to. You were going to be trapped in this room forever. Unless she wanted to torment you more. Or she died.

What did you just do?

Part Two

A/N: This was so much longer than I expected and it's not even finished yet.. There will be at least another part! Hope you all enjoyed!

Taglist

[howdoyouknowaboutgandalf]

I knew her once.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2k-3k ish

Disclaimer! Apologies for any grammatical errors or repetitive verbiage.

Background (NOT CANON): Bucky is brought back to the Avengers compound after the events of CATWS

Plot summary: Bucky is slowing coming too again, remembering himself, remembering Steve. He feels a strange, magnetic connection to a woman who recently joined the Avengers, Y/n, a super soldier, like Steve and himself. Unbeknownst to him, Steve and the woman know exactly why Bucky feels connected to her.

Based on this anon:

Written in both readers and Bucky’s pov.

*Thoughts are in italics*

<><><><><><><><><><><

Y/n’s POV

March 1st, 1945

Two months. Two months since Bucky was killed in action. Two months a widow. Two months since I asked Erksine to make me like Steve, to make me useful. What good am I if I let Bucky’s death be for nothing? That's how I ended up on this bomber. Steve is on the radio with a woman, but I only caught a snippet, of Steve saying, “There isn’t going to be a landing.”, and “I’ve gotta put her in the water.”. This is it. This is the end of Schmidt’s plan. If only Bucky could know. Floating in my mind, are Bucky’s last words to me, “I will see you soon, I love you.”. Now I know he was right, I will see him soon. I see the water now. See you soon my love.

———————————————————————

Fall 2014

It has been three years since Steve and Y/n were found in the ice. In the time since then, they have found adjustment to modern times. Both have been recruited to the Avengers, and are living in the compound. Bucky, who Steve found as the Winter soldier, has been brought to the compound is well. When the news was broken to Y/n, she refused to believe it. It took a while, a lot of convincing that it was him, for her to finally accept that it was Bucky. He has been in quarantine while doctors work with him to remember who he is, and it’s established that he is safe to be around. They have decided on a day for him to be integrated with the group, for him to start adjusting; tomorrow.

———————————————————————

Y/n’s pov

After a meeting about Bucky, how to address him, talk to him, and make him feel comfortable, I went to find Steve.

“Steve? Can I talk to you?” He turned around to face me, “Of course. Are you alright?”, he responded. “I’m… okay. I was going to mention something to you, about Bucky.” Steve nodded for me to continue. “I think we should keep me and Bucky’s past from him until he adjusts, and maybe never at all. I think it should be up to him to remember, and if he doesn’t, then we can start over. I know he has seen you, and remembers you, but he doesn’t know me. And truthfully, I don’t know him anymore either. I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring it up.” Steve pauses for a moment, taking in what I said before asking, “Are you sure you can handle that? Pretending you don’t know him?”. It’s not about me, it’s about Bucky. I reminded myself. “Yes. I can.” I say it more to myself than to Steve. “I won’t mention it.”, he seems upset to say it. “Thank you, Steve.”

The next day…

I saw Bucky in passing, on the way to his newly established quarters. I couldn’t bring my eye to really look at him. Steve wants to bring him to us individually, to introduce us to him. I don’t know if I can handle it. Steve told me a few hours ago, so I can only assume my turn is coming. Maybe if I hide out in my room, Steve won’t bring him here, I thought moments before two gentle knocks on my door. “Y/n? May we come in?” Damn it Steve. I said yes anyway. “Stay out here for a minute, okay?”, I hear Steve say quietly. Steve came in the room, pushing the door behind him, “I want you to know what to expect. He hasn’t really spoken to anyone but me today. He mostly nods, but I think he is making progress. Can I go get him now?” I could only nod. Steve turned to the door and stepped outside for a second. I stood up, smoothing my hair, which got a little messy from me pulling on it in my prior stressed state. Soon, they both entered. Steve began to introduce me, “Bucky, this is Y/n. She is enhanced, like we are. But what’s really enhanced is her baking skills”, he chuckled. Bucky’s face remained the same, lips not even twitching. Steve continued talking, but I stopped paying attention to examine the man standing in front of me. He looked like himself, but there was so much about his appearance that was odd to me. The bags under his eyes, is outgrown hair, he was taller than I remember, broader. His demeanor was the most off-putting, unmoving, almost frightened appearance, shy even. That’s not my Bucky, I remember thinking. After Steve had finished his rant, I let out a small, “It’s nice to meet you.”, to which Bucky barely nodded. Then they left the room. All I could do was break down. They had broken him. That wasn’t my husband, my charismatic, confident, happy husband.

———————————————————————

Bucky’s pov

Steve led me away from the woman, Y/n’s, door. There was something about her that was comforting to me, familiar. Steve said it was late, and took me to my room. I lied down in my bed, too soft, I couldn’t sleep. I thought about the woman, how she reminded me of someone.

———————————————————————

A few weeks later

Bucky has started opening up to Steve more, remembering. Natasha has even gotten him to speak to her a little, and she would even call them friends. Y/n has kept her distance. Afraid to be alone with him, to be upset. Bucky still thinks about her often, still perplexed by her.

———————————————————————

Bucky’s pov

It’s evening, and I headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Entering the hallway, I hear humming, a pleasant sound, but a tune I didn’t recognize. I turned the corner, and Y/n was there, leaning over the stove.

———————————————————————

Y/n’s pov

I was in the kitchen, making myself a grilled cheese, bland, I know, but it reminds me of simpler times. I heard footsteps, so I looked over my shoulder. It was Bucky. This is the first time I will have been in a room alone with him since he came to live here, since ‘45 even. I couldn’t bring myself to just ignore him. I turned to find him by the sink, filling a glass of water. He was dressed simply, comfortably, in an era of clothes I had never seen him in. It was surreal, and strange. “Hi.”, I said softly. Bucky turned to face me, and I could tell he tried to smile at me, but all he managed was a twitch on the left side of his mouth. “I was making myself some dinner.”, I spoke, and Bucky nodded once in response. “Are you hungry?”, I asked him. Why am I still talking? I thought. Bucky shrugged. Again, I couldn’t stop myself from talking, “Can I make you a sandwich?”. I figured if I asked if he wanted one, he would say no. To my surprise, he shook his head yes. I smiled, “I’ll get to it.” It only took a minute to make, and he just stood quietly by the sink. After I had finished making them, I plated his, and handed it to him. He let out a “thank you” so small I thought I just imagined it. This time, it was my turn to only nod in response. He took his sandwich down the hall, back to his room. I’m making progress.

———————————————————————

Bucky’s pov

I sat on my bed, looking at the empty plate. I still can’t get her out of my head. Who is she? She was kind to me. Something about her is drawing me in. I want to be around her. She makes me feel human.

———————————————————————

Y/n’s pov

It’s been a week since I was in the kitchen with him. Every day since, Bucky has been around. He’s still silent. Sometimes I go to common area, and he just appears. I’m working on interacting with him, treating him normally. I try to only ask him yes or no questions, I don’t want to push him. Today is my day to go downstairs and train with Steve. Maybe I can talk to him about all this, ask about Bucky’s progress.

“Hey Steve.”, I said as I bounded into the gym. I look forward to my days in the gym with Steve. “Good morning.”, he seemed happy to see me too. We started with sparring, which went fine, as usual. Then we moved to the bags, Steve was using one while I took sips from my water. I felt all my questions about Bucky sitting on my tongue. “How is Bucky doing?”, I blurted out. Steve smiled faintly before responding, “He’s doing well. I can see a little bit of his old self slipping through. He seems to have taken well to you.”. What does he mean? I only looked at Steve with a bewildered expression. “He’s been looking for you recently, trying to be around you.”. I asked him if Bucky had told him that. “No,” he replied, “but I know him. Even after everything, he’s still Bucky.”. Tears filled my waterline. He may be Bucky, but he isn’t my husband anymore. Steve noticed I was upset, and came to sit next to on the bench. “He is starting to remember small things from our childhoods. Little details. Not the whole picture, but I think he is getting there. He will remember you. I know he will. And it doesn’t hurt that you look the same as you did 70 years ago.”, Steve finished with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. I wiped the few tears that had run down my face. I need Steve to be right.

I headed up to my room to clean up, maybe grab a book afterwards. On the way, I passed Bucky. And he smiled at me. That beautiful smile I missed so much. I almost stopped in my tracks. But I powered on and I continued to my room.

After showering, I realized how hungry I was, so I headed to the kitchen to scour the pantry. I had been looking for a few minutes. I heard footsteps, familiar ones. Bucky and I were in the kitchen again. “Hey Bucky.”, I said without turning around. He still didn’t say anything. I looked over my shoulder. “Am I in your way?” I asked. He shook his head no. He just kind of stood there by the counter next to the sink. Why is he in here then?

———————————————————————

Bucky’s pov

I don’t know why I’m in here. I heard her humming on the way from her room to the kitchen, and I followed her. I watched her grab a snack. She spoke to me again, “I think I’m going to go to the media room and watch a movie… you are welcome to come and join me.” I smiled at her and nodded. She walked away, to go to were she said. I waited a few minutes, and then I went to find her.

———————————————————————

Y/n’s pov

I was scrolling through movies after I made myself comfortable on the couch. Within a few minutes of me being in the media room, Bucky walked in. I really hadn’t expected him to, but he walked over and sat on a chair near the couch I was on. “Is this movie okay with you?” I asked after I settled on one. He showed a small smile and a nod. He stayed the whole movie.

———————————————————————

The silent charade of Y/n going about her business and Bucky always being near went on for a few weeks. The others in the compound were starting to notice, but no one mentioned it. Today the team had a weekly meeting, which led to a disagreement between Y/n and Tony. A small dispute, really not a big deal, but both ended up frustrated and quite loud. At some point, they had ended up standing across from each other, pointing and arguing. The whole thing was stupid, and Steve and Nat had just decided to let them duke it out.

———————————————————————

Y/n’s pov

“That whole thing is a terrible idea!” I yelled. Tony had unsurprisingly pissed me off earlier. I will however admit, that I got a little intense today. Tony yelled back at me, “You aren’t in charge! I am!”. This whole interaction had been going on for probably 20 minutes, but with this yell, Tony stepped closer to me to emphasize his point, not aggressively, but Bucky must have seen it differently. After Tony had walked closer to me and waved his hands in frustration, Bucky strode over and stood in between us with his back to me. He said nothing, but naturally, the fight fizzled out. Why did he do that? I was fine. Me and Tony were just taking, really. “You okay Bucky?”, I heard Steve say from across the room. Bucky nodded, and then walked out of the room. After I watched him leave, I said “Um, Steve? Can I talk to you in a bit?”. Steve looked equally confused to me, “Uh, sure.”.

Steve and I walked to my room. “Do you have any idea what that was?” Steve only shrugged. He opened his mouth and promptly closed it. “Can you go check on him maybe?” I was worried about him. “Yeah, I’ll go talk to him.” Steve replied.

———————————————————————

Bucky’s pov

“Buck? You okay?” I heard Steve say from outside my door. Before I responded, Steve opened the door and came in, and sat next to me. “I’m fine.” I replied. “What was that about?”he asked. I thought about it for a minute. “I don’t know. I thought he got to close.” Steve looked at me, “Too close to Y/n?” I nodded. “You wanted to protect her?” Steve started. I shrugged. “She seems so familiar.” I said. “Well of course she does Buck, we all live together.” Steve said, but he sounded almost uncomfortable. “Thats not what I meant. I feel like I’ve met her before this.” He said nothing back. I tried again, “Steve?”. “I don’t know what to tell you Buck.” he finally responded, but he wouldn’t meet my eye line as he said it. “Can you tell me more about her?” I questioned. “Why don’t you ask her?” Steve seemed dismissive. “Maybe I will.”

———————————————————————

A few days had passed, and though he still was always around, he didn’t inquire further about Y/n.

———————————————————————

Y/n’s pov

Bucky sat a few seats down in the media room. It was around dinner time. I was about to get up to make myself something to eat, when I decided to extend an invitation. “Hey, Bucky?” He looked up at me when I said it. “Wanna come eat dinner with me? I feel like cooking for two tonight.” I tried to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, even though to me, it was. Bucky looked at me for a moment, “Okay.” he said. This is only the second time he’s ever uttered a word to me. “Is pasta okay?” I asked him, that was what I had been planning to make anyway. “That sounds good.” he sounded shy. I buffered for a moment, because I couldn’t believe he said a full sentence. I just turned and headed toward the kitchen.

I was close to done with the pasta, and I heard a soft clank behind me. I turned to see Bucky setting down two plates next to each other. I offered to make him dinner, and he set the table. Maybe he is still my Bucky. My mind flashed back to all those years ago, when he set the table while I made dinner.

I plated the meal, and sat down next to him. “Thank you for setting the table.” I told him. “Thank you for dinner.” He replied, quietly. We began eating quietly. After a few minutes. I heard him clear his throat lightly. I looked over at him just before he asked, “Can I ask you a question?”. Shocked, I only nodded for him to go ahead. “How old are you?” What a strange question. “That’s a tricky question actually.”, I replied. He looked at me, and said nothing, like he was waiting for me to continue. So I did, “I was born in 1920. I went down in the bomber with Steve in ‘45. They found me in 2011. So I guess that makes me around 28.” Bucky’s fork hit his plate. He looked deep in thought. “What’s your last name?” Another weird question. I decided to be honest, try to introduce him to the whole truth. “My maiden name? Or my married name?”, I asked back. He looked at me before quickly replying, “Both.”. Here we go. “My maiden name is Y/l/n,” I paused, “and my married name was Barnes.” With that, I felt my face flush and tears burn my eyes. I got up to clear my plate, and walked quietly to my room.

———————————————————————

Bucky’s pov

I was right. I did know her once. It all came to me then. The pieces I was seeing of her, why she seemed familiar. She was my wife.

I needed to talk to Steve.

I was at his door. “Steve. I need to talk to you.”. Steve opened the door. He seemed nervous. “You knew.” I accused him, “why didn’t you tell me?”. Steve didn’t answer the question, he moved on to ask one of his own, “Did you remember?”. I felt my emotions bubbling. Tears started falling from eyes. I nodded at Steve, and he stepped over to allow me into the room. “I remember her. I remember our first date. I remember proposing. I remember the little wedding. But why didn’t you tell me?”, my voice cracked a l little towards the end. Steve looked near tears as well, “She wanted you to remember on your own. She wanted to give you a chance to start over.”

———————————————————————

Y/n’s pov

Why did I tell him that? That is the opposite of what I wanted to happen, how I wanted him to find out. I bawled on my bed for a while after dinner. I lost my husband years ago, only to find out he is alive, but he’s changed. He isn’t mine. Played like a mantra in my head, trying to remind myself and subsequently making me more upset. I was standing over my sink, splashing my face with cold water in attempts to calm down when I head a knock on my door. I went to open it without thinking about how much of a wreck I looked. It was Bucky. I couldn’t open my mouth to speak. He did in my stead, “I remember you.”. The tears started again. Looking at his tear stained cheeks, I resumed crying, hard. I stepped aside to sit on the edge of my bed, leaving the door open. I felt the bed dip beside me before I heard his voice again, “I remember missing you.”. I glanced over at him to see him crying again too. “I remember loving you.”. After he said that, a broken sob fell from my lips. I had nothing to say. I reached over, and gently took his right hand. We sat for a while, sniffling, tears still falling. Bucky was the first to speak, “I don’t want to start over.”. I smiled, wide, an ugly thing, all teeth and red cheeks and watery eyes. I finally had words. “I want to be your wife. And whatever that means for us now.” I leaned over and placed soft kiss on his cheek. He turned to me after that, taking his hand out of mine. His flesh hand cradled my jaw, a featherlight touch, his thumb lightly caressing my skin. He leaned in, and pressed his lips to mine, soft, a peck. He leaned back only an inch to say, “I want to be your husband.”.

He is my Bucky.

<><><><><><><><><><><

Thank you to anyone who read the full fic!!!

@daughterofapollo-7 @seabasscevans

Please request more!!!

[piedinthepiper]

Your girl ☆

Soft!yandere!Jungkook x Namjoons gf!reader

Summary: He’s loved you for a long time and is certain that you also feel the same. The only problem is that you have a boyfriend…aka his best friend.

Warnings: dubcon, angst (arguing), male masturbation, swearing, Jungkook is an asshole, but at least he’s a loving asshole, he’s also delusional and manipulative

Wc: 2.7k

| pt. 2 |

A/n: A small one shot based off this (request). Wrote it real quick and didn’t proofread it, sorry;( hope you like it anon!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

He initially picked the room next to Namjoons room to be close to you. Sweet sweet y/n. The girl of his dreams. Ever since you met in middle school he’s loved you. But he was shy, and nothing like the man he’s now. Perfect for you. But of course Namjoon had to have you first. Namjoon, his older friend that was so calm and collected all the time. Winning over any girl with his big words and romantic acts, and now he got you. And he’s kept you as well. As his own. As his girlfriend.

Of course the two of you would share a room. You’re boyfriend and girlfriend, that’s normal. And Jungkook specifically asked to be next door. Just to be able to hear your laughter in the evening, and seeing you peak out the door in nothing but the white robe the resort you were staying at provided. With cute tired eyes and a small smile. What he didn’t expect was to lay awake at night listening to the headboard knocking against the wall, and your loud screams of pleasure.

The first night he thought that you were just happy and excited by the nice resort Jungkook picked out for Namjoons birthday. It’s natural for a couple to have sex, nothing wrong with it. He thought to himself before putting on his headphones and going to sleep.

The second night he found himself listening for a little longer. He had never heard you moan before, and a familiar feeling in his groin started to appear. He stopped himself as his hand subconsciously started to move towards his half hard dick. It wasn’t right taking advantage of you like that. You were having an intimate moment with your significant other, it wasn’t for his ears, it was for Namjoons. So yet again he put on his headphones.

The third night he didn’t put on his headphones. He didn’t care anymore. Regardless, how would you even know? It’s not like he would ever tell you, and he was the only witness to what he was about to do. He closed his eyes and focused on your voice. Making lewd sounds that went straight to his erection. He imagined you on top of him, riding him as if your life depended on it. Telling him how good he made you feel, how he was so much better than Namjoon. He started following the ruthless rhythm of the headboard. Jerking up and down his cock like a mad man.

“Namjoon!”

You moaned at the other side of the wall, but Jungkook only heard his name. And the simple thought of you screaming his name on top of his cock made him come all over his hand.

This continued for two more days, until the last day at the resort was upon you.

“So what do you want to do for your last day, babe?”

You said before putting a grape between your lips. All of you were assembled by the breakfast table. Namjoon swallowed what he was chewing on and looked in your direction.

“I don’t know, maybe we’ll just chill for today? We’ll travel for a long time tomorrow.”

The rest of the group nodded and came with assuring comments.

“Maybe we should go to the jacuzzi tonight?”

Jungkook who was sitting on your left, leaned closer to you and almost whispered. You looked over at him with a smile and opened your mouth to answer him.

“Great idea, Jungkook! Let’s bring a few bottles and chill in the jacuzzi tonight!”

Namjoon said excited as he overheard Jungkooks words. Namjoon wasn’t supposed to hear it in the first place. The invitation was only for you. But deep down he knew he would never be able to get you on his own. Especially not when Namjoon was there.

The evening came and Jungkook found himself in the jacuzzi as planned. He had made sure none of the other guys sat next to him. That spot was saved for you. Jin and Jimin had instead found their spot opposite of him. While Hoseok sat next to him on the other side. The side not facing the entrance to the jacuzzi. Now he was just awaiting your arrival, ready and eager to sit next to you. You and Namjoon arrived a little while after the rest of the guys had settled. The two of you came jogging towards them, wanting to get into the hot water and out of the cold night air. Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at you. You failed to notice the look Jungkook gave you, too focused on following your boyfriend. You completely missed the way his eyes scanned over your half naked body. Only wearing the blue bikini that Jungkook had grown to love during the week at the resort. He could already see your nipples through the thin bra. Your light jogging made your tits slightly bounce. He let out a sigh, feeling his cock stiffen as you sat yourself down beside him. You felt immediately relaxed once the warm water hit your body. The bubbles doing wonders for your sore back. Namjoon put his arm around you, pulling you closer to his naked torso. You quickly looked up at him, before pecking his lips softly.

“Jk! Why are you so tense? This was your idea wasn’t it?”

Hobi practically screamed over the loud bubbles. Suddenly everyone was looking at him. Even you. He was caught off guard. Not expecting anyone to notice his behaviour.

“I- it’s just that it’s our last day together. I’ll miss being around you.”

He lied. But what was he supposed to say? ‘Oh, Namjoon’s girlfriend gave me a semi, and now she’s sitting so close to me that our thighs occasionally brush past each other’. No. He couldn’t say that.

“It’s fine, Jungkook. You can visit our place as much as you’d like.”

You comforted him. Putting a hand on his shoulder. He gave you a short smile.

“But not too much.”

Namjoon added teasingly. You rolled your eyes at him, even though you were smiling. Suddenly you felt a hand on your knee. You didn’t think much of it at first. It was a cramped space after all. You had been resting your legs on Jin’s thighs this entire time, since he sat opposite of you. It’s just what you do in a hot tub. The conversation continued and you found yourself listening to Jin’s horrible jokes. Occasionally laughing with both Hobi and him.

The hand slid up your thigh, but stopping before it became uncomfortable. You tried looking down, just to see. But the bubbles were blocking your view. No one were able to see what was happening under water.

“It feels nice right?”

Jungkook leaned closer to you. You looked at him and gave him a smile. Leaning away from Namjoon to converse with him instead.

“It feels amazing.”

You answered as you closed your eyes and let out a sigh to demonstrate. Jungkook let out a small laugh. Trying to keep it cool. But all he could think about was the way you just moaned for him. He couldn’t help it anymore. He was too horny and too in love with you to not do anything.

“You look amazing.”

He almost whispered. You barley heard him say it due to the bubbles.

“What?”

You asked, even though you heard what he said.

“Nothing.”

He answered and raised his hands. As he did the hand that was on your thigh disappeared. So it was him? You shook it off. Jungkook was clingy, not just with you with everyone. Right? Once he put his arms back in the water his hand found your thigh again, this time it was dangerously close to your bikini line. You suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable, and reached down. Pushing his hand off your thigh.

“Please don’t put your hand that close.”

You said as if you were just teasing. Trying to not make things awkward. He leaned in closer.

“Why?”

He asked and placed his hand back.

“No one can see it baby.”

He whispered in your ear. You looked at the others to see if anyone heard what Jungkook just called you. But they were all busy chatting about everything else to even notice that the two of you were out of the conversation. You placed your hand over his, making sure it didn’t go further up.

“Don’t call me that.”

You whispered back. He tried to slide further up, but your grip tightened and kept him in the same spot.

“Stop it.”

You said, getting really uncomfortable now. You were happy with Namjoon, and even if Jungkook was attractive you would never ever cheat. Ever.

“Let me make you feel good.”

He whispered.

“No.”

You looked at him dead in the eyes now. He sighed and nodded slightly. His hand on your thigh flipped and suddenly grabbed your hand. You looked down on instinct even if you couldn’t see anything. He swiftly pulled your hand towards him and placed it on his crotch. You tried getting away without making a fuss. But he was way stronger than you and kept your hand firmly around his now hard cock.

“That’s what you do to me, y/n.”

“Let me go right now or I’ll tell everyone here what you’re doing right now.”

You whispered angrily to him. Sick and tired of his game. He contemplated it for a second, but let go of you hand eventually. You got up from your seat quickly.

“Oh, where are you going baby?”

Namjoon asked sweetly. You felt guilty for some reason, and his caring boyfriend voice almost made you cry on the spot.

“I’m done, I wanna go to bed.”

You said as you stepped out.

“Sleep well, y/n!”

Jin yelled after you. Jimin elbowed him in his side. Making him grunt.

“What?”

He asked. All the guys looked at him.

“She’s clearly upset, man.”

Jimin answered him.

“I better go check on her, it was fun while it lasted guys.”

Namjoon said and started getting up from the water. Jungkook quickly got up and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ll check on her. It’s the last day of your birthday week, you gotta enjoy it.”

Jungkook said reassuring.

“Oh ok. Thanks, man.”

Namjoon said, completely oblivious to Jungkooks real intentions.

The bikini was cold, and the minute you walked into your room you stepped out of it on the bathroom floor. The cool bikini made your mood even more awful. You heard a knock on your door. Namjoon, as the good boyfriend he was, probably came to check on you. You sighed and put on your robe. Even if it was your boyfriend you couldn’t open the door completely naked. You opened the door, ready to fall into his big arms. But he wasn’t the one greeting you. It was Jungkook. Your face quickly soured, and you swung the door back at him. He stopped it before it shut and used his entire body weight to keep you from closing the door.

“Y/n, let me talk to you.”

He said as if he didn’t struggle at all to keep the door open. You on the other hand continued to push with all your might.

“I’m not interested in talking to you!”

You snapped back, slightly out of breath.

“Come on, we’re adults aren’t we? I’m sorry for what I did out there.”

He answered calmly. You stopped pushing, making the door snap back. Since he had leaned up against the door he followed, stumbling backwards until he met the floor. You crossed your arms and looked down at him. He gave you a small smile before he got back up again, closing the door carefully behind him.

“Look, I’m-“

“You’re not staying for long so you might as well open the door back up again.”

You said strictly, sitting down at the edge of your bed.

“Don’t be like that, y/n.”

Your head snapped back to him the second he uttered those words.

“Don’t be like that? Don’t be like that?!”

You got back up and started walking towards him waving your finger angrily in his face.

“Not only did you dirty talk to me right in front of my boyfriend, you also made me touch your fucking penis, Jungkook! You do not get to decide if I’m going to be ‘like that’ or not!”

You said in a fit of rage. His eyes turned big and innocent, not expecting you to lash out on him like that.

“I’m sorry, really I am. I didn’t mean to.”

You scoffed at him.

“Please, what you did out there is nothing that just happens on accident! You clearly meant it!”

You continued.

“Y/n, please just listen.”

“You’re unbelievable!”

“I’m sorry, ok?!”

He snapped back.

“I’ve tried to hide my feelings for you since the day we fucking met. Especially after you chose Namjoon over me!”

It was your turn to be surprised by his sudden reaction.

“I’ve tried to stay out of your business, I’ve tried to leave you alone. But I can’t! I can’t do this anymore, y/n. I can’t pretend that I don’t love you!”

You went quiet for a few seconds. Taking in all of the information you had been obvious to for years. You would’ve never thought he had those kind of feelings for you. He had always only been a friend to you. A good friend. And eventually a really hot friend as well. You couldn’t say that he didn’t look good standing there. In only his black bathing shorts, one leg rolled up over his big thigh. His hair damp and dripping onto the white towel around his neck. Some drops even made it down his muscular torso or his tattooed arm. But he would always be middle school Jungkook on the inside. The sweet, shy kid with a bowl cut and big doe eyes. No matter how many weights he lifted, or how many piercings and tattoos he got. He would still be just a friend.

“I didn’t know.”

You answered awkwardly. Not understanding how he could’ve been able to hide it for so long. You were friends after all, you told each other everything.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Maybe if I did we would’ve been together by now.”

You shook your head and took his hand. You needed to let him down gently. It sounded like he thought you felt the same, and it wasn’t fear of you to feed into his delusions.

“We could never date, Jungkook. I don’t like you like that.”

His eyes switched from innocent and vulnerable to harsh.

“What?”

You sighed.

“Let’s sit down and talk, hmm?”

You asked, knowing that he easily gets emotional.

“No, y/n. I’m not doing this.”

He pulled his hand away from yours.

“You’re saying that you wouldn’t date me? Not even if I asked before Namjoon?”

“Jungkook, I love you. I really do! You’re an amazing friend. You’ve always been there for me. But that’s it, you’re my friend. I love you as just a friend.”

He went quiet. Jungkook had never been great with handling his emotions. You knew this would hit him hard.

“So you’ve friend zoned me? Without even giving me a chance?”

He said in a snarky tone. You shook your head and rolled your eyes. He wasn’t the one who was supposed to be angry in the first place. It was you.

“You do not have the right to get angry at me after you basically sexually harassed me out there!”

He scoffed at you and took a step forward.

“So this is what it’s about? You can’t love me just because I made one mistake?! Wow, Namjoon must be perfect!”

You stepped forward as well.

“No it’s not! I don’t like you the way I like Namjoon! You can’t get everything you want, grow up!”

You yelled back at him, as the two of you were now arguing with each other.

“I’m the one that needs to grow up?! You’re the one that made a scene, just because I touched you a little!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You didn’t just touch me, you made me touch your fucking penis!”

“Come on! It was just over the shorts!”

“You’re disgusting!”

A loud knock stopped both of you from arguing. The two of you looked over at the door. You scoffed and pushed him aside when he didn’t do anything. You opened the door, still visibly upset from the argument. Outside stood Namjoon, with the rest of the guys behind him. They all were completely in shock, and they were definitely not hiding it. Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“These walls are pretty thin aren’t they?”

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[ihopesocomic]

So, the usual disclaimer before we address this (again): please do not attack or harass this individual. We are merely bringing this to the attention of anyone who may feel like supporting this artist. Link to the work anon is referencing Our original post concerning them with more evidence Even though we've said in the past that referencing is fine with credit, it's worth noting that this individual is block evading and they seem to think they can carry on as they are because 'well, I've given them credit' when no, this isn't how it works. You don't trace our work for months without giving credit and continue to do so once you're called out and we've expressed our discomfort at you doing this by blocking you.

It's all well and good stating that we've 'clarified we're OK with referencing' when you're confronted after you initially took advantage by not crediting us for months until you were called out, but it should be obvious by us blocking you months ago that our permission no longer applies to you. Knock it off. - RJ

---

I think what's further upsetting is, we haven't exactly been selfish about our process. We've given every source to the tools we use from medical sources to brush tools, cheap and free lineart to alter as people wish, and saying at every opportunity that people don't need permission from us to use broad concepts. We've never been shy about all our inspiration and favorite artists either.

But you'll notice anyone inspired by us are also inspired by multiple things and make it their own. Such is characteristic of the creative process. It's not characteristic of what this person does, yet they treat it like they're doing the same thing as everyone else. And I want to make it absolutely clear, that if you're worried you might be doing this, you're not. You would know. Because this is the only instance anyone has disrespected our boundaries in this way.

We blocked this person months ago. There was no sense in bringing it up, as most people see being blocked as "oh, this person wants nothing to do with me." and move on to other things. But this person goes out of their way to take stuff that isn't even comic-related (commissions and my own personal work), AND make sure no one knows about us. And contrary to popular belief, not that many people know who we are, especially on sites where we're not active. It's like this person assumes that since they're blocked and we don't have a presence on dA, they don't have to respect anything we do. I don't know what they feel, but to me personally it feels intentional at this point. It's gotten to a point where I actually have a preference for people who say they hate us and leave it at that. Because at least they don't skulk around to steal my artwork. Another thing that strikes us as strange is that we were convinced for the longest time that this person was an adult as they've referenced having an apartment and having adult shit to pay on several occasions but they are now turning around and claiming they're actually under the age of 15/16 in light of our original post concerning them, and that they would "still tell you this even if they weren't". Make of that what you will. It's just pretty eh to say you need money for bills and an "apartment situation" when you're also saying you're a minor who is still under the responsibility of your parents/guardians.

Also, being 15/16 is old enough to know better than to steal artwork. Just putting that out there.

I am rightfully frustrated that my good will and patience is being taken advantage of by this person. And I'm tired of the idea that I'm being mean or unfair by speaking out about it. "Don't steal my artwork" is a pretty simple boundary to respect. If it's too complex for some of you to work out, that's a you problem. - Cat

[moonstruckme]

On Thin Ice

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

This was requested by anon, but I'm not including the request because I'm going to write at least one more part and I don't want to spoil anything. But thanks so much for requesting, anon my love! I'm really having fun with it :) Also, just a disclaimer that I know next to nothing about figure skating, so while I tried to look most things up, there may be some inaccuracies

summary: when your usual figure skating partner Regulus is injured, you're forced to prepare the most romantic routine you've ever done with Sirius Black. You've known Sirius since you were little and have always found him irritating, but as you spend more and more time together, your feelings towards him start to change

cw: mention of injury (no details), Sirius Black is a relentless flirt

Figure Skater!Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 3.3k words

You want to be kinder to your friend, but you’re a bit angry with him. You’re not great at hiding it, either.

“It’s not like I can fucking help it.” Regulus rolls his eyes, and you do your best to undo the petulant pout of your lips. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I know that. I’m sorry, it’s just, seriously? Why can’t Coach give me someone else?”

“You know why.” 

You blow out another huffy breath, because you do know, but that doesn’t make you like it any better. Sirius is our best bet, your coach had told you, firm and impassive to your protests. He’s great on the ice, he always scores well, and Reg can teach him the routine while they’re at home. If we used anyone else, we’d lose time while they learned it. You’d sulked, and he’d given you a stern look. So suck it up. 

And you’re trying. Kind of. You wouldn’t ordinarily consider yourself an ill-tempered person, but Sirius Black brings out the worst in you. Always has. He’s Regulus’ irritating older brother, always around to pull your pigtails when you were little and make fun of everything you and Reg enjoyed as you got older. And in everything you love about your best friend, Sirius is the opposite. Where Regulus is restrained, Sirius is brash; where Regulus is content with a few close friends, Sirius needs an entire posse around him at all times; where Regulus has a quick, quiet wit, Sirius seems to feel a joke isn’t worth telling if everyone can’t hear it. He’s loud and facetious and insufferable, and now he’s your partner in the most intimate routine you’ve ever done.

“I know,” you groan again, falling back onto Regulus’ bed. “I just wish I could change it. Who do I have to bribe to get you a miracle recovery?”

Regulus scoffs, but he lies down beside you sympathetically. “The doctor said it should be better by next season, but a fractured ankle doesn’t fix itself in a couple weeks.” His voice turns bitter. “Trust me, I asked.” 

You wince guiltily. You’re not the only one suffering from Regulus’ incapacity. You’d both been practicing this routine for weeks. It was one of the most challenging and showy either of you have ever done. You were both supposed to have the chance to really shine, showing off your skills with complicated jumps and throws, some of which you’d never attempted before. But now Reg wouldn’t get the chance.

Ironically, it had been a fairly simple routine that had taken him down. One of your go-tos. You’d been performing it together for years, but maybe that sense of security was dangerous too. It’s too easy to land wrong, and one tiny slip had fractured Regulus’ ankle right in the middle of competition, forcing your coach to come help you get him off the ice. 

You’d cried more than he had as the on-site medics had inspected it, completely unhelpful but unable to bear seeing your best friend’s features twisted in agony. It turned out that was nothing compared to the look on his face when they’d told him he wouldn’t be able to skate on it for months. 

“How does it feel?” you ask, more gently now, and Regulus’ scowl softens in response. “Does it still hurt all of the time?”

“Not really, only when I walk on it. And they said I should be able to do that without much pain soon, just no jumping or anything.” 

Your heart aches with sympathy, and you have to resist the urge to reach over and touch his hand, his hair. Regulus has never much liked being touched, which you understand, but it makes him a difficult person to comfort. You resort to your method with the highest success rate: distraction. 

“Well, at least the cast is a fun accessory,” you say, forcing levity into your voice. “We could draw on it, it’ll be like having tattoos.” 

“Pass,” Reg replies disinterestedly. “Tattoos are more my brother’s aesthetic than mine.”  

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes, unable to stopper your irritation at the return of the conversation to Sirius. “Do you think Coach will let me have a new partner if I kneecap him?”

“If you’re going to kneecap someone,” comes a cool voice from the open doorway, “it’s probably best not to ponder your scheme so loudly in their house.” 

You raise your head to find Sirius leaning against the door frame, arms crossed insouciantly in front of his chest. He looks at you with the eyes he shares with his brother, but where Regulus’ tend towards cool grayness, Sirius’ always seem to waver between gray and blue, like the sky during a storm. They’re flashing now, amusement mingled with cunning, as you meet them with a glare. 

“Maybe I’m just giving you a red herring,” you say smoothly, “so you’ll never see my actual plan coming.” 

“I wouldn’t put it past you, shortcake,” Sirius replies, grinning when your face goes hot at the nickname, “but I think I’ll start wearing protective gear just in case. Reg, think you could revoke this one’s key until after the competition?”

Regulus pretends to contemplate this, staring up at the ceiling. “No, she’ll only start coming in through my window again.” You grin at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches in response, remembering all the cuts and bruises you used to have when you were younger from climbing the old tree outside his window, late at night when you were both supposed to be asleep. The first few times you’d tried, rotting branches had broken and fallen from beneath you, but you’d kept at it until you’d plotted a safe course. You’re sure Reg would have snuck downstairs to let you in the front door if you’d asked him, but better you get in trouble than him. “Anyway, it’ll be entertaining to watch.” 

“Whatever happened to brotherly loyalty?” Sirius feigns hurt, but gets past it quickly. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to keep in mind that if I can’t perform, there won’t be a performance. I’ve already learnt half the routine, and I think you might struggle to find someone else skilled enough to catch up in time.” He winks at you, and you scoff, pointedly unaffected. “So I’ll see you at practice on Monday, sunshine,” he gloats, and disappears down the hallway. 

You wait until you hear the click of his door to lay back down, passing a hand over your face exhaustedly. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with that all of the time,” you moan. 

Regulus chuckles wryly. “Welcome to my world.” 

☆ ☆ ☆

“Y/N,” Coach calls frustratedly. “You have to let him throw you, not jump.” 

You’ve almost just followed in Regulus’ footsteps for the upteenth time today, which isn’t exactly in line with your plan of getting Sirius injured, but you figure will do in a pinch. The truth is, your focus has been off all day. Switching to a new partner is always hard; you’re used to Regulus, you’ve spent years learning how to skate together, to anticipate the other’s movements, and finding that rhythm with another person takes work. But learning how to skate with Sirius is more challenging than even you had expected.

He’s distracting, for one thing. He keeps smiling at you, making faces when you mess up, and whispering obnoxious little pointers when you’re in the middle of a complicated move. And his own movements are bigger and more elaborate than you’re used to, lacking Regulus’ control. You can see, objectively, how it works for him. It gives his performance that extra bit of artistry that Regulus has often been accused of needing, but it makes him more difficult to anticipate. He’s stronger than Reg, too, so he throws you higher, flings you farther, grips you tighter. It’s a lot to learn, but your coach doesn’t seem very sympathetic to your plight. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve wasted almost an entire day of practice and are undoing weeks of hard work learning the choreography with your repeated mistakes. 

You nod at him again, moving to reset, but Sirius slides in front of you. 

“Hey,” he says, “I can feel you tensing when I go to throw you. Is something wrong?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, breath still puffing into the air between you from the exertion of your leap. “No,” you reply shortly. “I’ll fix it.” 

And really, you should have been able to fix it a dozen tries ago. You’ve practiced throws with Regulus for years now. You’re supposed to push down on Sirius’ shoulders, use the momentum of your spin to give you a little boost, and let him do the rest. But you can’t seem to manage the last part. Sirius’ hands on your waist had discomposed you from the first try, and you keep finding yourself trying to jump off the ground before he has a chance to lift you. It doesn’t work, you know it’s never going to work, but it’s like some fight-or-flight instinct takes over every time Sirius’ hands get close to you. You suspect it’s because you’re so used to Regulus’ touch aversion; this routine is meant to seem romantic, but between the two of you, it had always felt chaste, more about the mechanics of the movements than the meanings behind them. Sirius loves to be touched, though, probably too much. He teases you about how cold your hand is in his, the tentative way you touch his shoulder when you’re supposed to grip it, how you jolt a little when he rests his hand on the small of your back. You’re on edge every second he’s around you, which by the very nature of the routine, is often. 

And so you keep jumping, which causes Sirius’s throw to be stunted when he can’t get a good grip on you, which causes you to fumble your landing. Every. Time. 

“You can trust me, you know,” Sirius persists, looking half earnest for once in his life. “I’m not going to launch you too high or anything. Just let me do the work.” 

“I’ve got it,” you growl, and Sirius raises his hands in mocking surrender, moving out of your way. You glide back into position, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You don’t need his advice, you’ve been doing just fine without it for years. You’ll get it on your own. 

☆ ☆ ☆

“Why is it,” Regulus drawls, coming into your room, “that when you mess up at practice, it’s still my problem to solve?” He sits on the edge of your bed, careful not to disturb the open bottle of nail polish you’re using. “I’m not even your partner right now, but both Coach and Sirius are complaining to me that you can’t sync up with him.” 

You keep your eyes on your fingertips, sweeping the brush across your nails in careful, measured strokes. “I’m working on it.” 

“What’s the problem?” He sounds more puzzled than frustrated. “Sirius is annoying, but he’s not actually an asshole. He won’t sabotage you.” 

“I’m not accusing him of anything,” you say. “I just…I can’t get it right. I don’t know. He’s so different to you, and I can’t figure out how to make it work.” 

“Well, you’d better figure it out soon,” Regulus replies, not without sympathy. “There’s only a couple of weeks until comp, and it seems like the both of you will need all the practice you can get together.”

You know he’s right, and that’s exactly what you’re dreading.

☆ ☆ ☆

The next practice goes about the same, the only difference being your coach’s mounting exasperation. Actually, no, there is one other change: Sirius’ movements become smoother, more sure, as he grows increasingly familiar with the choreography. 

So basically, he’s getting better while you’re getting worse. 

Though you all know there’s no time to waste with the competition coming up, Coach ends practice early in his irritation, letting you go with strict instructions to get your shit together before you meet again tomorrow. You promise him you’ll try, though you’re both coming to know that won’t be enough. 

You take your time unlacing your skates, shrugging on your jacket and stopping to buy a hot chocolate from the vendor up front before going out into the brisk autumn air. You’d started this new routine after your first practice with Sirius, stalling so that he’d have a head start and you wouldn’t have to walk home in the same direction, but you take two steps outside before you realize your plan has been foiled. 

“Coach will kill you if he catches you with one of those,” you say, and the cherry of Sirius’ cigarette burns orange as he takes a drag, eyes lighting with playful defiance. 

He blows the smoke away from you. “You won’t tattle on me though, will you, sunshine?”

“Reg won’t like it either.” 

“He knows,” Sirius says, as though Regulus’ opinion is of little concern to him. “You took your time in there. Ready to go?”

You don’t try to keep the suspicion from your face. “You were waiting on me?”

“I figure we could use some extra practice.” He drops his cigarette, stamping it out half smoked. “If you’re not too tired, I mean.” You give him an indignant look, and Sirius grins. “C’mon, it’s too cold out here for those leggings.” 

You follow him reluctantly, sipping at your hot chocolate because damn it, he’s right. The wind had been cool when you’d gone into practice, but nightfall has stolen the little bit of warmth the sun provided. You wouldn’t be surprised if you woke tomorrow to find the trees prematurely bare of their leaves. 

The Blacks’ house isn’t far, and your eager pace gets you there in a hurry. You’re thinking you’ll go to Regulus’ room as soon as you get inside, ditching Sirius and whatever humiliation he has planned for you, but when you approach the house, every window is dark. 

“They’re at my aunt’s for dinner,” Sirius answers your unasked question, unlocking the door. “I begged off because of practice.” He laughs as you follow him inside. “Try not to look so happy about it, shortcake.” 

You roll your eyes, starting up the stairs that go to the bedrooms. “When will Reg be home?”

“Late.” Sirius’ voice is close behind you. “You’re welcome to wait for him, of course, but we may as well make use of the time.” On the top step, you whirl, relishing the opportunity to look down on him for once. 

“Fine. What are we doing here?”

You don’t know if you’d hoped he’d be intimidated, but Sirius appears as unbothered as always. “Like I said. Practice.” He brushes past you, leading the way into his bedroom. After a moment, you follow grudgingly.

Like everything about Sirius, his room is loud. Almost every inch of wall space is covered in band posters, medals from competitions, pictures of his friends. There are clothes strewn across the bed and shoes scattered about the floor, but if Sirius is even conscious of the mess, he doesn’t mention it. 

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

Sirius turns, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re surprisingly determined. “We need to figure out whatever it is that’s been holding you up,” he says. “We’ve gotta get past it.”  

You feel like stomping your foot, but very maturely refrain. You’re about done with the subject of your failures for the day. “I don’t know what it is.” 

“I think you do,” Sirius says cooly. “Wanna know how I know?”

“How?”

He grins. “Because you just admitted it.” 

“You—I just asked how,” you splutter angrily. 

Sirius gives you a knowing look. “Right, so it has nothing to do with you being afraid of me touching you?”

Your face heats. How could he know that? You look at him for a moment, and he looks back at you with that cool, even gaze, like he thinks he’s got you all figured out. As much as you resent him for it, he’s right. You’ve got no shot at a decent score in this competition if you can’t get past your mental block around Sirius. “I’m not afraid.” You roll your eyes, downplaying the admission. “I’m just not used to it, okay? I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but you’re not exactly a carbon copy of my usual partner.” 

Sirius grins again, and for the first time you get the sense that he’s laughing with you instead of at you. “I have been made aware of that a few times over our lives, yes. But okay, you’re not used to it. Let’s get you used to it.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, not sure where he’s going with this but fairly sure you won’t like it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to throw you until you can handle it without flinching. Sound good?”

You look at him like he’s stupid. “The rink is closed, and there’s nowhere for me to land here.” 

“Sure there is.” Sirius pats his bed cheerfully. You stay right where you are. Something changes in his expression, and you think you might detect a bit of kindness behind his teasing tone. “C’mon, sweetheart. I don’t know what Reggie’s told you, but I don’t actually bite.” 

You huff, but go to stand in front of him. He’s shed his coat, revealing the plain black shirt underneath, and the sleeves grip his biceps. Even in the poor lamplight, you can see his eyes changing colors like schools of fish as they swim. Now blue, now gray. 

“Alright.” Sirius sets his hands on your waist, and you tense automatically. “See, that’s the habit we have to break. Relax for me, shortcake.” 

His words certainly don’t help, but you do your best, unclenching the muscles in your stomach and legs. 

“Perfect,” he says, then launches you into the air. You barely have time to gasp before you’re landing on his bed, springs squealing in protest. “Okay, next time, try to spin or something.” 

“I wasn’t ready,” you protest. 

Sirius laughs. “I know. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Let’s try to do it like practice this time, yeah? So you go over there,” he motions to the door, “and run towards me. When I throw you, try to spin if you can, but don’t try to stick the landing or anything. Just land on your butt.” 

You roll your eyes, moving to the door. “Yeah, I’m in no hurry to break my ankle like Reg, thanks.” 

He winks. “Just making sure.” He spreads his feet a bit, bracing himself. “Alright, let’s give it a try.” 

It’s easy to remember Sirius is an older brother when he gets all bossy like this, but you comply, gaining as much speed as you can on the way to him before he’s gripping you around the waist, tossing you into the air. You manage a half-turn before your back end hits the bed. 

“Better!” Sirius exclaims, beaming at you. “You still seemed a bit tense, but at least you didn’t try to jump by yourself. Again?”

You can’t help a little smile of your own as you nod, pushing up off the bed and repositioning yourself at the door. 

☆ ☆ ☆

When Regulus gets home, he finds you sprawled on Sirius’ bed with his brother sitting beside you, both thoroughly worn out. 

“Did you fix it?” he asks.

You grin at the ceiling, wondering if it’s your pride or Sirius’ you’re feeling in the air, or both. “I think so.” 

“Coach might get the chance to be mad at me instead, tomorrow,” Sirius laments. “My arms are fucking dead. Too many throws and I might drop you on the ice.” 

“Don’t break my partner,” Regulus says warningly. 

“Yeah,” you second, hauling yourself into a sitting position and going to meet Regulus at the door, “please don’t.” 

You can hear Sirius’ eyes rolling as he says, “I won’t. See you at practice tomorrow, shortcake?”

It’s harder than usual to muster up annoyance for the teasing nickname. “See you tomorrow.” 

[snkyou]

Drabble Prompt: Post-canon Levi, struggling with chronic pain and mourning his dead loved ones, being visited by his still alive loved ones

Anon, you knew how to talk pretty to me <3

hihi requests are still open btw

I feel like I gotta put a disclaimer or something lmao. So, the length of my drabble requests is usually something between 100-400 words. This request is just an incredibly unexpected exception. it just happened to fit into this idea I already had been thinking of, which was how the remaining 104th would ask Levi to be part of important events in their lives because well, they like the dude lmao, so expect that sort of one-shot soon. Additionally, since I kept reminding myself that this was supposed to be a drabble, I might have glossed over the chronic pain and mourning bits so I'm sorry about that ;;

that being said, 2.4k words of Levi and Gabi be upon ye <3

Now on Ao3!

The angry hissing of the kettle makes him flinch. It brings a loud ringing to his right ear. Instinctively, he places his right hand over it, and gives his ear a couple of gentle taps; it's more of a grounding gesture, a distraction from the buzzing. He usually keeps watch over the kettle, so that he can lower the heat just right before it gets a chance to scream at him. 

He realises then that he must have spaced out while waiting. It’s alright, he thinks. It’s been like that a lot, recently. He’s been like that. Lost in thought-- lost in time, if he allowed himself to be precise. The last days, weeks even, as the temperatures started to drop, blended into each other. There’s a little calendar on his bedside table, it had been a birthday gift from Armin – or had that been Mikasa’s? He isn’t sure, he had received an absurd number of presents from the kids last year, it had been hard to keep track of who gave him what and now the fact escaped him. Turning the pages of the little calendar, with its delicate botanical illustrations on each day, quickly became part of his morning routine, and so he was sure that time was passing at all. The stillness of the routine, he guesses, made him like this.

His vision blurs momentarily while he scoops the tea leaves into the teapot. He squints, trying to will his good eye to focus, but all he gets in return is a throb in his right eye. After putting the tea canister away, he presses the inner sides of his wrists to both eyes, placing just enough pressure to relieve the discomfort. When he opens his eyes again, he is pleased to find he can read the small print on the canister an arm’s length away. 

There’s a loud slam coming from the front of the house, followed by footsteps coming further into the house.

He quickly recognizes the heavy stomping as Gabi’s gait. She’s always been so loud.

Gabi crosses the arch into the small kitchen and dining area. 

“Don’t slam my doors,” he says as a greeting, slowly turning his head to his left side, trying to catch a glimpse of her in his periphery.

“Aye, aye,” the kid waves her hand, shoots him a teasing grin, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Levi hums in response but doesn’t say anything else. He busies himself with placing everything they need for their morning tea and coffee on a metal tray on the counter, which Gabi takes from him as soon as it’s ready and sets it on the table.

He grabs his cane from where he had hooked it on one of the kitchen drawers. He has been leaning against the counter, his right leg supporting most of his weight all this time. He braces himself for the sharp pain that will surely surge from his bad knee, through his left hip and up his spine. Cold mornings like this one and being still in one place for long will do that to him. It’s not so bad. It could be worse.

It takes 4 steps to get from the stove to his chair, which Gabi has already pulled out for him. It sits at an angle that allows him to easily slide down on it and rest his right elbow on top of the table, leaning back and against his good side.

“I have something that will cheer you up,” she holds a couple of envelopes in her hand and waves them at him, “You’ve got mail!”

He nods at her in acknowledgement but does not take his attention away from preparing his first batch of tea of the day. There’s a ritual to it, it almost feels like, and he doesn’t want to mess it up. Not when the ringing in his ear is still there, the building pressure in the upper back part of his eyeballs, and the cold air seeping into his bones through his thick jumper. Oh, how he needs a good cup of tea right now.

While Levi waits for it to steep, he grabs the papers that she had shoved in his face, squints his eyes at the first envelope and finds that he is unable to make out much of the handwriting. He brings it closer to his face, squints harder, steals a quick glance across the table and hopes Gabi isn’t paying him any mind, too preoccupied with choosing from the bag of pastries she brought with her. It is with an impassive expression that he hands the stack of envelopes back. 

“Read it for me.” A beat and then he adds, a little reluctant: “Please.”

He knows Gabi prefers coffee in the mornings, and black tea in the evenings, so he makes sure to have a fresh brew of the former whenever he knows she’s coming over; so, with shaky hands, Levi gets to prepare her cup of coffee. While he enjoys the aroma of it, he remains faithful to tea; at first, he thought he didn’t like it because he had butchered his first attempts at brewing it. But even after Onyankopon had taught him how to do it properly and he had enjoyed his cup, it didn’t bring the same comfort as tea. It just never hit the spot.

She shoots him a mischievous grin, “Oh, you sure? What if I read something personal, hm?” 

Levi just shakes his head, scoffing at the idea of Gabi finding his junk mail fascinating.

“Is this how I find out you have a secret lover you’re exchanging raunchy love letters with?” Gabi teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He lets out a tired sigh and rolls his eyes, “just wanna be done with it, ” he stirs the milk into Gabi’s coffee, which now has turned into a cup of milk with coffee. “We have a lot to prepare for tonight.”

She clicks her tongue at him, but still rips the first envelope open, “Mr. Levi, your reading won’t improve if you keep doing that,” she jokingly scolds him.

Although Levi mentally recognises handing her and Falco stuff he couldn’t be bothered reading before, that’s not the case this time. He’ll let her think that for now, though, because he doesn’t want to mention the pressure building in the back of his bad eye, it’s not important and she, a kid, doesn’t need to know his newly found ailment of the week. He can see just fine around him right now. He can see Gabi’s big eyes and playful smile at the other side of the table, and that’s good enough; smaller details, he doesn’t feel he can do them, not without making himself go dizzy with a migraine.

Levi slides the cup of coffee to her and is pleased with himself when she approves of the colour of her drink.

“It’s from Armin,” she announces as she scans the letter. 

From this angle, the soft morning light illuminating her face and thanks to his faulty vision, Gabi’s image stirs his memory. His heart faintly constricts as he is reminded of the many times Hange read their research reports to him during breakfast in the mess hall before presenting them to Erwin. Levi always wondered how they could read so fast, sometimes he even doubted they were actually reading at all, their words barely being able to catch up with her eyes; he never asked about it, maybe reading came easy to them as numbers did to him.

A high-pitched squeal from Gabi startles him, bringing him back to the here and now.

“Oh… ohh, Mr. Levi,” she starts, her smile widening by the second “This is good news!”

Gabi makes a show of clearing her throat and then starts reading “Dear Captain, I hope this letter finds you well and in good health.” 

Levi can’t help but let a sardonic huff at the irony of the greetings but doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. He has written only a handful of personal letters throughout his life, and by now he knows it’s just something you’re supposed to say because jumping straight to the point isn’t acceptable, or so that’s what he had been told. 

Gabi continues reading Armin’s words to him. For the most part, it’s a standard letter coming from him: he asks Levi how he’s dealing with the changing of the seasons, how Gabi and Falco are faring, if business at the tea shop has been good, if there’s anything Levi needs that he can’t get in town so that Armin or the others can get it for him. He tells him a little about the country he’s writing from, he even includes a photograph. Then, after the expected pleasantries, Gabi can barely hold her excitement and starts reading faster, trying so hard not to trip over her words.

“If I’m being sincere, we would prefer to ask you in person,” Gabi stops for a second to look up at him from the paper, gauging for a reaction and finding nothing, she continues. 

Armin apologises for not being able to visit him before the holidays, Annie included, and so it is implied that he won’t be attending tonight’s reunion. 

Sometime during the last five years, the Alliance brats had decided to make showing up at Levi’s doorstep together once a year a sort of custom; the first time it happened was during an early winter, a blizzard had stopped them from leaving Levi’s until the next morning. It had been a really nice evening despite the awful weather, Levi remembers, after everyone pitched in one way or another, they all shared a simple but hearty meal together. It was Connie who jokingly said they should do it every year. The following year, Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco joined them. 

This year would be their fourth, and the first someone wouldn’t make it. That fact sits heavily in Levi’s chest, stealing the spotlight from his throbbing eye.

“...Annie and I have decided to get married. The both of us would like you to officiate our ceremony!” unable to contain her excitement, she tears her eyes away from the paper and looks at Levi. “Huh?! This is good news! What’s with the constipated face?!”

That doesn’t sound right. It figures that Annie and Armin would be the first to marry; in a way, he is happy for them, they clearly care for each other. No, that part is easy to understand. Their union is logical to anyone who knows the couple. What Levi can’t figure out is why they are asking him such a thing.

He clears his throat, assumes it’s been 3 minutes and his tea is ready to be poured and so he distracts himself with that.

When he doesn’t answer Gabi, she picks up where she left off. 

He isn’t… well, he isn’t that close to either of them. He’s sure Annie must have other relatives that could step in his stead. Maybe a brother, a cousin. Even Jean or Reiner would be better options than Levi. He isn’t good with words or people like they are, he couldn’t possibly give them a speech about something foreign to him as it is that kind of love, that’s what people expect, right? His title of Captain is obsolete in this new world, so it can’t be that either. Hell, he has never been to a fucking wedding. 

Just… why him?

As expected, Armin doesn’t really go into the details of their choice but does let Levi know they do not expect a fast answer and that they do not want him to feel pressured to accept it, despite how much it would mean to them if he did. Armin asks if there’s anything in particular that he would like for his birthday, as it is a month away, and closes the letter by saying he looks forward to seeing him and everyone then.

When the letter is closed and put back into its envelope, silence falls around them. For a moment the only sound that can be heard is the clinking of tableware as Levi places the teacup back on its saucer.

It bothers him, that he knows he will be letting Armin down by refusing something that any other well-adapted person would consider an honour. But the thought of embarrassing him and himself, because he gave an awkward, most likely insensitive, speech, mortifies him. No, he can’t put them and their guests through that. He will find a way to make it up to the couple, maybe he can… he doesn’t know yet, but he will come up with something.

As he finishes his first cup, Levi realises that at some point while he was lost in thought, the ringing in his ear has subsided and now it’s back to that muffled, cotton-in-ear sensation he’s used to and he doesn’t feel his eyeball pulsating anymore. Glancing at Gabi, he notices she is trying really hard not to say something, her brow furrowed as she takes a sip of her own drink, followed by a big bite of her pastry. Flakes stick to the corner of her mouth and for once it doesn’t disgust him. Instead, it makes his lips twitch as if going into a smile.

“I can help you... if you want,” she says eventually, sounding uncharacteristically careful and small of her.

Levi quirks an eyebrow “Help? with what?” 

She shrugs, “How to… tell them you don’t want to,” she avoids looking at him for the first time, finding the flakes on her plate more interesting. She shrugs again and tilts her head to the side, a thin line of a smile appearing on her face. “...or prepare for the ceremony.”

Not unlike many times before, Gabi’s words render him speechless, if only for a moment. He spares his tea a glance and he thinks: it’s bold of her to be so upfront about offering her help to him, and had it been any other morning, one where he couldn’t think past the constant ache in his body, he would’ve chewed her head off for simply trying to help him because he himself doesn’t know how to accept that kindness.

This kid is trying her best and he can’t help but feel somewhat proud of that.

“You have shit on your face. Here,” he points to where the flakes would sit on his own face and picks his refilled teacup back up.

Gabi quickly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting most of the flakes off. Levi gives her a thumbs-up with his free hand.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally concedes and tries to ignore the little happy dance she does in her seat.

This time, when the amber liquid touches his lips, it’s remarkably sweeter than before.

[silverflqmes]

you are legit my favorite ffvii writer at the moment dude. if you feel like it, do you think you can write smth about being childhood friends w zack and reuniting with him one day? make sure to take care of yourself 💕 :)

໒⦂ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

notes. HELP YOU’RE SO SWEET ANON??? IWOWJDJDK i haven’t written as much yet and i still have lots to learn but that really warmed my heart to hear 🥹🥹🥹 i decided to combine this with another request, i hope that’s okay with you both!<3

genre. fluff + angst

disclaimer. tifa speaking on cloud can either be platonic or romantic — whatever you wanna think just don’t start up a whole ship war bc it’s embarrassing as hell. obviously this is a zack fic so focus on zack smh.

zack fair x gn!reader.

“you’re.. leaving for SOLDIER?”

you shouldn’t be shocked, that was the last thing you should have been since you had been the one to encourage his decision.

and yet.. why did it hurt? you had known that it would, it was only naturally — but not like this.

zack averted his stare from the star blanketed sky, smiling solemnly. “sure am. you helped me realize that becoming a hero is something that i should do — that the world needed my kind of help.. so that’s,” he paused, allowing the evening breeze to shift his dark bangs. “exactly what i gotta do.”

you fell into silence for a moment, pursing your lips together as you considered his words.

it had been your crush’s dream from young, since seeing sephiroth on propaganda and hearing of his endeavors, to become a hero. the life he’d led in gongaga was wonderful, peaceful.. but you knew, deep down, he’d wanted to make that name for himself. that zack was.. meant for greater things.

and you, torn between your feelings for him and the need to encourage him as his best friend.. had no choice but to put aside what you felt to urge him to embrace his dreams.

when he received no answer, the raven haired teen took it as a sign to continue, leaning back on his elbows. “as of now, you’re the only one i’ve told about my decision — cuz well.. as you know, my parents aren’t super chill with it.” he laughed out, shaking his head. “so i’m gonna leave tomorrow night. got everything packed up already, a letter ready for them to pass on and i’ll be good to go!”

“tomorrow night? so soon?” you nearly interrogated him, only to respond with a slow nod. “you have my word, don’t worry about it.” should you tell on your friend? would that keep him just a little while longer if his parents knew and prevented his departure? would he hate you for it and finally give you a reason to stop feeling this way about him?

no.. you couldn’t live with yourself if he had hated you. that was practically death served on a silver platter, your heart would never start again if zack had expressed contempt for you.

for a second, longing flashed in his eyes before he allowed himself to grin, patting your back gently. “you’re amazing y/n!! i knew i could count on you no matter what! i’ll be sure to bring you something real nice from the big city!! and that’s a promise!”

a smile that didn’t quite meet your gaze etched itself onto your lips as you let out a hum of agreement. “you’re the amazing one, zack. i’ll..” miss you. “..be holding you to that promise, so you better keep it.”

three years passed and no sign of zack. the promise stood, but remained unfulfilled.

you should have expected it, that becoming a SOLDIER meant never seeing him again. you knew he was alive, a letter would have come if he wasn’t, and his parents kept you posted thankfully.

yet, there was still an emptiness you felt in his absence. every year, you’d told yourself that perhaps maybe, he would come home to visit this time.

now, having turned eighteen, you had decided to leave the comfort of gongaga as zack once had, and journeyed to nibelheim — a village in the mountains. it was small, quaint as your hometown was, perhaps colder, but after being offered a job through your parents, it called to you.

your mother had been from nibelheim and met your father in midgar — who had left gongaga to pursue a career in research as she had.

despite their retirement, they had developed many connections.. one of which, had been in the mountain village.

when you pleaded to leave and join up with your friend in the city he’d left for, your parents had urged you not to, and were strict on it.. as though something had been terribly wrong there.

you’d never asked why they retired so early on, and just assumed they had wanted to settle since they’d made their money.

but it didn’t.. fully seem that way.

“didja hear y/n? there’s a group of SOLDIERS coming down here tonight. ahhh, i hope cloud is there — i haven’t seen him in years.” your companion and guide sighed out, pacing about idly as you jotted down notes on your observations of the terrain.

tifa had been a friend you’d made upon your arrival. she was a year younger, but a real go getter and great help on your expeditions. in the beginning you worried for her safety, stringing her along as you did — only for her to protect you from the perils you feared.

you’d have to ask if that mentor of hers was willing to show you a move or two on self defense.

“cloud, huh? is he in SOLDIER, too?” you had told the girl before you already about your old buddy, as there was no possible way of her exposing your feelings for him.

and honestly, it was comforting to confide in someone for a change.

she nodded eagerly at your question, smiling softly. “he should be, it was his dream to become a SOLDIER, like sephiroth — that’s what he told me one day before he left.. and he’d promised to always protect me, no matter what.”

your writing seemed to pause at her comment, head lowering as you willed yourself to chuckle despite your anguish. “is that so?” zack, as you recalled, had dreamt of the same. “well, i hope he comes home safe if he’s a part of that group.” you smiled a little, closing your notebook before standing up from your crouched position.

“that should be enough for today, thanks for coming along again — i think i’m almost there with reaching my conclusion on this strange increase in mako spillage on the landscape.. but i just- can’t seem to put my finger on it.” you muttered, knitting your brows together before casting a glance over at mt. nibel- the highest point of the area you had moved to. “whatever, they’re keeping in that reactor.. there’s something really off about it.”

the burgundy eyed female followed your gaze before humming absentmindedly. “yeah.. i’m hoping those guys coming today might know or at least clean up over there.. i’d hate to see what might happen if the pollution intensifies down here.” she answered softly, helping you up before looking ahead. “for now, let’s get back — it’s almost sundown.”

at the mention of the visitors on their way from midgar, your thoughts went to your old friend, but you reprimanded yourself quickly. you would not have hopes again — as they only ever existed to get shattered and turn into despair.

and yet.. that one percentage asking but what if, remained.

the sun had drowned into billowing clouds, a shade of golden casting over the scenery as you walked beside your friend, exhaustion creeping up on you. however, you reminded yourself that the descent was always easier than the ascent.

“and we’re back, thank you for taking the tifa express way~” your travel partner giggled, earning a smile in return from you. she always had a way of brightening the mood with her optimism. kind of like.. nevermind.

the brunette looked around when she found the villagers gathered in the centre, adjusting her hat with a pout. “did we just miss them? i didn’t think we would be this late..”

you copied her actions, letting out a sound of contemplation. “maybe they turned in, midgar is a long way from here.. i’m sure they wanted to just take things easy for the night and start off fresh tomorrow.”

tifa paused for a minute to think before letting out a sigh and nodding. “i guess you have a point — tomorrow, then.” she smiled again, holding out her thumb. “i’m gonna be their guide, i’ll make sure of it!”

you rolled your eyes in amusement before nudging her with your elbow. “whatever helps you sleep at night, tifa.. i’ll catch you in the morning, in that case. i still gotta sort some things with information i picked up today.” a trip to that mako reactor and your research might at last be complete. perhaps.. you could convince the group in bringing you along- especially if your friend would be going.

it was the perfect in!

“mhm, see you in the morning, y/n! don’t be up all night doing that work of yours if you wanna wake up on time!”

with those parting words, followed by a wave, the female dressed in orange walked towards the direction of her home, eagerly greeting her father at the door before joining him inside.

your shoulders fell, a low exhale escaping your lips as you adjusted your backpack. and just like that, she was gone.

you made your way into the inn you’d been staying at for the time being, rubbing your eyes.

it was a temporary arrangement, given you hadn’t fully decided yet if you would be staying permanently in nibelheim. however, the living accommodations worked just fine.

you hadn’t thought yourself difficult to please, anyway. so long as you had the necessary essentials needed to live, all was well. that was what you’d learned growing up in gongaga.

entering the inn, you greeted the host before ascending the steps, pausing when you caught sight of a towering, silver haired.. male? unless a woman could stand at nearly seven feet.. and across from him, stood.. no — had your eyes deceived you?

“z-zack..?”

the conversation between the pair, whatever it had been about, came to a full stop as they turned to face you, shock painting on the face of the SOLDIER with the darker hair.

“y/n..??” he spoke up incredulously, blinking over at you as his jaw fell just slightly. “no way- what’re you doing here.. in nibelheim of all places? i thought you were-”

“in gongaga?” you asked with a small smile before shaking your head. “my parents found me work here, so i moved just a few months ago. never thought i’d see you here, before returning home, no less.”

zack could feel the coldness of your words, piercing through him like icicles tipped in poison. pissed was an understatement.

the taller behind him smiled awkwardly before moving towards his door, not wanting to be muddled into the affairs of his triend. “i believe you both have some catching up to do.. i will see you in the morning, zack.”

the boy in question parted his lips in protest, but the cat-eyed male was gone before he could do so. damn!

awkwardly, he turned to meet your awaiting stare, swallowing thickly.

“sorry, i’ve.. had a lot going on.” he confessed, lowering his head in shame. “i wanted to come home sooner — especially after making first class just recently- but things.. everything that has been going on as of late at shinra, it’s been really messed up.” zack confessed, clenching his fists at his side before letting out a glum chuckle. “and it just keeps getting weirder.. what were the odds i’d find you here of all places?”

you leaned against the window, folding your arms as you gazed out. “close to none. i guess it’s a thing of fate, maybe.” you offered, sliding your eyes back to his zircon ones. “seems my parents were right to not send me to the city with whatever ‘messed up things’ that happened.”

the SOLDIER nodded, allowing a brief silence to pass before smiling. “they probably were, yeah.. don’t think you would have liked midgar much, anyway. it’s all gross and industrial looking.. although!” he blurted suddenly, perking up as though he’d remembered something. “wait right here, i’ve got something i want to give you!”

you rose a brow at his random burst of energy, reminding you that despite the change in his appearance, the development he had gone through.. he was still your zack, and that wouldn’t change.

he disappeared into his room before you could answer, rummaging by the noises you’d made out, which had you shielding your mouth with your hand. “don’t get lost in there, now.”

“like i would!” he laughed before emerging from his quarters, holding out a messily wrapped box for you. “no matter where i went, i always kept this with me, thinking that maybe- just maybe, i would pass through our hometown and find you to hold up that promise i made to you. finally,” the spiky haired SOLDIER paused, grinning brightly. “i was able to fulfill it!”

you blinked in surprise, taking the package into your hand as you felt your face burn despite the coldness provided by the high altitudes of nibelheim. “you.. remembered?”

appalled, zack let out a gasp of offense. “remembered? how could i forget?? a promise is a promise, and i intended on keeping it!” he huffed out before raising his fists before him in excitement. “now come on, open it!!”

overcome with a sudden happiness, to know you hadn’t been forgotten despite the negative thoughts you’d created, you opened up his gift to you with earnest. a glimpse of green entered your vision as you quirked a curious brow. a plant? no.. zack wasn’t the type to keep plants.

finally removing the top completely, you stared down at the present before stifling a laugh into your forearm. “you- you got me a cactuar.. stuffed toy?” you spluttered in surprise.

of course he did — it was zack for goodness sake..

“sure did!! ya like it?? it looked authentic when i saw it in the window!” he answered proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

you continued laughing, unable to contain yourself as you held your stomach. “it’s so random- but that’s.. that’s just like you to get me!” you wiped a tear, allowing a smile nearly as bright as his, or perhaps- even brighter for a change, to replace your initial frown. “i love it a lot, but.. you wanna know what i love more?”

a mixture of interest and excitement sparked in his eyes as he inched closer, eager to hear. “what? what is it??”

having caught your breath, you closed your eyes, holding the plush close to your heart. “being here- reunited with you, again..”

like an invisible string, knots and tangles had appeared in the thread that connected you both. however, it wasn’t impossible to unravel and detangle that which connected you both, to allow an opportunity of reunion.

( even if it was the right place, but sadly.. the wrong time. )

notes. bittersweet open ending cuz well.. it’s nibelheim- anyway, i hope this was okay! i think my writing style kinda changed.. scary. oh well! the support these last few days have been much appreciated<3 tysm you guys, hearts out to you fr<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Hey Gwen! Can I ask you something? What do you think of this post? https://www.tumblr.com/philhelaena/757011234089566208/thinking-about-how-hotd-introduced-adult-aegon-as?source=share

I don't really agree with it since Dyana is still present in this season and even in the previous season he was the punching bag and scapegoat of the family, but I can't find the words to explain how I disagree. What do you think?

Hi anon. With no disrespect intended to the OP of this post,. I've seen this take floating around for awhile now, that Aegon is somehow completely different from his S1 character and that it's somehow of fandom pandering, and I disagree.

First of all, the idea that half the fandom decided to ignore the fight pits and the sexual assault and focus on Aegon being drunk and funny is just flat out incorrect. At the end of S1 it was hard to write a single sympathetic word about Aegon without someone accusing you of being a rape apologist, and even now, while the casual audiences are more sympathetic towards Aegon, people can hardly say they've been enjoying his character without issuing a disclaimer, "he's a terrible person but ...". Team green has always been in a minority (I think in the polls HBO puts out team green is consistently under 15%), and even among people who enjoy team green, until recently it wasn't uncommon for people to say they loved all the greens except Aegon. On AO3 were more Lucemond fics than there were fics featuring all of the Aegon ships combined. So the idea that the showrunners were somehow listening to the 10 people who admitted to enjoying Aegon back when they were writing the S2 scripts and changing his characterization accordingly is pretty silly.

That said, I do think the show toned down Aegon's awfulness a bit. I think TGC himself probably had as much to do with this as any of the fans. That man is relentlessly advocating for his character, stating again and again that he not simply a villain, that that he is capable of empathy and love, that he is someone who feels too deeply rather than the opposite. The way he talks about Aegon and his children makes it pretty clear that he has a vision for this character and has advocated for certain character choices, and good for him! He cares a lot about Aegon and takes his job seriously and it shows because he has gotten heaps of praise for bringing depth to a character who could easily veer into cartoon villainy, and is winning over the sympathies of people who 2 years ago wouldn't have pissed on Aegon if he were on fire. In fact, recent poll on the main HotD subreddit of all places placed Aegon as the best written character so far and it wasn't even close.

And this is good! Considering what happens to Aegon in S2, as well as the endgame of the whole entire story, it's pretty important that the audience be able to connect with him on some level and feel some level of sympathy for him.

And to be honest, I'd challenge the idea that Aegon had some huge personality switchup between S1 and S2. People have to remember, we had a grand total in S1 of about 8-10 minutes with Aegon. He was not, at that point, a fully realized character. Some people envisioned a much darker character than the show ended up settling on, but those headcanons are as much headcanons as the silly goofy drunk Aegon was, as "good loyal brother" Aemond was. And I have to stress, people can interpret characters however they like, and they can certainly disagree with the direction the writers go with a character, but a character who has 8 minutes of screentime ending up having more facets to him once he appears in a primary role in S2 is not the same thing as a character assassination. And perhaps, just perhaps, the child fight pits were the OOC part and Condal etc. pulled back on that characterization because it was incongruous with the guy who was genuinely baffled when Aemond threw him under the bus for the bastard remarks, the guy dying of embarrassment when his sister roasted him at dinner, crying over a slap from his mother, trying to run away rather than take the crown, and asking Alicent "do you love me?" before crying his way through his own coronation. Aegon was a depressive alcoholic in S1 and remained a depressive alcoholic in S2. Was there a chaotic element to him? Certainly! He's got massive substance abuse problems which completely skews his judgment and inhibitions, making him self destructively impulsive. Is there a darkness in him? Of course! If nothing else, he's a Targaryen prince, someone who has grown up with the power of life and death at his fingertips. And we see this! The show has not allowed us to forget about the ratcatchers (and as you mentioned OP, Dyana is still there too)!

Finally, I will say that people who think Aegon is being shown to be a pure buffoon this season haven't been paying attention. Aegon was gaslit by his family members for four episodes straight because they wanted to keep him weak, and the way to do that was to undercut his confidence and trash his self worth. He was correct about nearly single issue he raised -- Harrenhal, the blockade, the smallfolk, needing to be informed about the battle plans Cole and Aemond were making. Hell, even the assassination attempt is something that Otto himself was planning, and Otto himself ordered landed gentry executed for refusing to bend the knee before Aegon was even crowned, a much bigger deal than executing a few ratcatchers! Aegon has a class clown demeanor a lot of the time, but he's not stupid. The thing is, Aegon could have been spouting the most eloquently worded arguments and they were still going to resist him because they whole entire point was to discourage him so that he would lose interest, Alicent even says it point blank to Otto. The thing is, Aegon has good instincts but lacks the confidence to not second guess those instincts because he knows he doesn't have the experience or the training necessary to be an effective king on his own. Aegon's ability to listen is one of his better qualities as a king in fact (I'm sure the council is missing it now that they have Aemond), but he is too concerned with winning the approval of not just his subjects, but the people he cares for, including Alicent and Aemond. Aegon is remarkably perceptive, and he does have a good sense about people, but this is his weakness and unfortunately his family has zero problem exploiting it. Now, will that continue going forward? Unlikely! Aegon is still evolving! In the span of a few months he's been crowned king, lost a child, been undermined and diminished, and has become permanently disabled due to the betrayal of his own brother. Certainly, he is going to change, for better or worse.

[jesterwriting]

(for that timeloop post,, uhm this relates to the whole body horror thing ((not too much just a brief mention)) so if rn u don't wanna see that SCROLL AWAY!!! OR DELETE ME!! OK disclaimer ends here)

oh man but what if Law did say room anyway and there were impossible scars on your insides... like littered everywhere, they're not fresh but old, almost phantoms that make no sense, because if they were real you would've died. how would he react to that? maybe not when he noticed them crying but after weeks or months, dunno, where they keep skipping his more thorough check-ups (where he uses his devil fruit) since they're anxious about the pains? and think that somehow there are signs of their previous deaths and the mention of them makes it hurt more and more and they just can't do it. but they can't bring themselves to say it because who could possibly believe them? if Law doesn't, it would just feel even worse, won't it? even if they understand his point of view. maybe they even die in front of him and it gets harder to just hold all of that in,,, oh boy. if you think about continuing your oneshot i'll eat it like a starving animal!

pairing: law x gn!reader

contents: slight body horror, slight gore, timeloops, suicide done to restart the loop, hurt/comfort, happy ending,

word count: 1.6k words

note: OHHHHH I LOVED THIS IDEA OH MY GOD. absolutely so smart. anon your mind is huge and i had so much fun doing this request. <33 i really hope you enjoy :33

playlist: caribou - tanya tagaq

a sister fic to this

This had never happened before. You had experienced hundreds of loops, maybe even thousands, and this was the first time Law saw fit to scan you with his Devil Fruit.

Maybe you were getting sloppy. You had a strong immune system so you never got sick, and the first time Law scanned you for your general checkup upon joining the crew, there was nothing of note. You wondered what changed, as if you hadn’t died more times since you joined his crew than you had in your entire life. Maybe it was because the more you suffered, the more reckless you became, throwing yourself into the fray with little regard for yourself. You could take a bullet for your crewmates, so you would. It was as simple as that.

There was a first time for everything, you supposed. A first death, a first breath, a first kill; there were uncountable firsts that one could experience, and you had experienced most of them.

Not this one, though.

You had tried to avoid it for as long as possible. Your captain was a man who carried burdens, ones almost as heavy as the ones on your shoulders. If he knew how many times he failed you — or how many times you failed him — you knew he would take all the blame for himself. As if you hadn’t been the one lying, and fighting, and dying over the course of countless lifetimes.

Law blinked a few times before his brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. You fidgeted under his stare. If his reaction was anything to go by, he found something horribly wrong with you. While you had experienced slow deaths before, you had never experienced what it felt like to waste away from disease. Maybe you’d find out this loop, you thought, trying to feel nonchalant about the idea and not like you were about to throw up.

“Um. What’s wrong,” You tried.

Law shushed you, the blue glow from his room still surrounding you. You bit your tongue, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt to try and take your mind off of whatever he could have found.

“This can’t be right,” He muttered, one hand cradling his chin. He pointed to your chest. “There’s a scar inside of you, it looks like a puncture wound through your lungs. When did that happen?”

Three loops ago when you fell off a building and onto some rebar. That was a particularly awful death. The last thing you remembered before everything went black was Law’s panicked expression as he tried to put you back together again. There was terror in his eyes. You tried not to think about that part.

“And here,” Law continued, pointing to your abdomen. “There’s a scar running across the length of your stomach. It almost looks as if you were previously disemboweled.”

You had been. Multiple times. It was a common and very disturbing loop ender that you tried to avoid if you could. Watching your organs fall out of you in a steaming heap was never something you liked to experience, but for some reason, your opponents kept aiming for the gut. You wished they’d aim for the heart or the head more often. At least then it’d be quick.

He didn’t stop there, jaw falling open when he stared directly where your heart was. “When were you stabbed, Y/N-ya, this looks recent.” Law blinked a few times before realization dawned on his features. His eyes shot to your face, expression going from open to unreadable in seconds. “How did you survive without my intervention?”

Your mouth was dry. How were you supposed to respond? There was no way you could tell him that you had died on his watch more times than you could count. Law didn’t deserve that. Your captain was a good man, one you loved admired far too much to allow this to weigh him down. He would take your failures to heart, completely discounting the amount of times that he had saved you from having to start anew.

You must have been quiet for too long because Law was speaking again. “Answer me.”

“It’s from a long time ago,” You said.

That was a lie. It was from the previous loop. A quick death by your own hand over the cold corpse of your captain. If Law didn’t survive, there was no point in continuing, and if there was one thing you had grown accustomed to, it was taking your own life after one loss too many. You knew how to make it quick, no suffering. So with a precise hand, you drove your knife into your chest and let the timeline begin anew.

When you saw Law again, whole and alive, you vomited. You were under the impression that he believed that you simply ate some bad seafood, but from the concern that was slowly etching its way onto his features, you weren’t so sure of that now.

“Don’t lie to me.” Law’s eyes flashed, barely contained frustration needling at the corners of him. “None of this makes any sense, half of these injuries should have killed you. The other half would have needed to be treated.”

The truth sat on the tip of your tongue. You felt selfish and needlessly cruel for your desire to tell Law what was really happening. Your eyes burned, and their glassy sheen didn’t go unnoticed. Law handed you a tissue, expression softening.

“I- um.” You hated how your voice cracked. It had been a long time since you told someone about your Devil Fruit. You always died, and they always forgot. For a long time, you thought it was better that way, carrying this weight on your own. The way Law looked at you, though, it made you want to pour your soul out to him. Every pain, every loss, every death lain at his feet, and for once, you could stand unburdened. “It’d be wrong of me to tell you.”

Law’s eyebrows knit together. “Now you’re being stupid.”

“No, I’m not. You’ll regret asking once you know. Don’t pretend like you don’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, you don’t deserve my troubles on top of that. It’s better for both of us if you just forget what you saw.”

With that, you stood and made to brush past Law and out of the room. He grabbed you by the shoulder, not allowing you to go any farther. Though his grip was firm, it didn’t hurt. If you really wanted to, you could wrench yourself away from him.

“You’re trembling.”

Your lower lip wobbled, your resolve ebbing away by the second. “It’s complicated.”

“So tell me.” Law’s lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. “Doctor’s orders.”

You let out a small huff. He didn’t deserve this, but there would always be another loop. This current one hadn’t been going so well, and by your estimation, it would take at least three more before you managed to reach your next checkpoint. It wouldn’t hurt to tell Law what he inevitably wouldn’t remember. You steadied yourself with a deep breath and turned to face him, his eyes met yours with a mix of concern and exasperation.

“It’s my Devil Fruit,” You started. Law leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms, attention solely on you. Your heart thundered in your chest. “I’ve died so many times.” Without your permission, your breath hitched. Law’s hand encircled your own with a small squeeze, encouraging you to continue. “It, um, brings me back, I guess. I’ll die, and then wake up in the bunkhouse days earlier, and I’ll be the only one who remembers what happened. All those scars you saw were what killed me in a previous loop.”

He was silent while he chewed on his words.

“How many times have you died since you joined my crew,” Law finally asked.

Your hand was still in his and you gave it a squeeze. “That’s not fair. I know what you’re doing and I won’t let you do it.”

Law’s shoulders slumped as he brought his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I believe you. It explains a lot. I noticed you cry in your sleep sometimes.”

“You watch me sleep?” The tips of Law’s ears were tinged pink while you laughed.

“I was worried so I checked on you.” With a sigh, he began to lead you out of the clinic to his office. “Come on, you’re telling me everything you can remember. We’re going to come up with a plan.”

Humoring him, you followed close on his heels. It didn’t matter how long or how hard you planned, there was no accounting for the unpredictability of the universe. This comfort wouldn’t last long. Soon, you would be dead again and the cycle would start anew. That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy sharing a space with your captain, listening to him meticulously craft tactics to keep you, and everyone else, alive.

It wasn’t until four days later you found yourself breathing, though covered head to toe in blood, with the rest of the crew. Everyone was safe and sound, and Law wouldn’t stop looking at you with a smirk on his face. When you found yourself next to him, he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I told you my plan would work.”

Just like that, for the first time in your life, you were no longer alone.

[exsanguidus]

Controversial opinion; I think Ascended Astarion is the true Astarion. In DnD lore, vampirism amplifies a person's traits for whoever they are at the time they become a true vampire. A Paladin wanting to save people will end up ruling a city with an iron fist to keep people safe. A mage wanting to heal those they love will hurt everyone else to heal them. Astarion was on a journey with Tav - one from being controlled, owned, and tortured to being free, curious, and even powerful. Becoming a full vampire and ascending just amplified that. It forced a self-actualization, not a descent into villainy. I think Ascended Astarion is cannon Astarion. He will always be a vampire, and vampires in DnD are always the amplification of a true self. Without ascention, he is still malleable - but I don't think its what he wants. He wants to be powerful (protected by his own power too - his power being a means to self-preservation), he wants to be loved, seen, and free. Free of hunger, free to walk in the sun, free of Cazador. All these things are true regardless of the path you choose. But, they are all only attainable through ascension. When you ascend Astarion - he gets everything he wants and becomes who he truly is.

I'm going to start this with a disclaimer:

I work in the mental health field professionally and majored in Social & Behavioral Science, which is partly why I felt drawn to Astarion as a sort of case study. Characters rooted in trauma are interesting to me and I enjoy picking them apart to judge how real it feels. I utilize my educational and professional background to essentially guide how I write Astarion on this account.

That said, despite me being a professional in the field, all of what I have to say is my personal opinion and interpretation of Astarion's character based on how I interpret the material Larian gave us and the material that can be found in DND lore. Even in real life, things have variation and not all mental health struggles (getting over trauma is part of mental health) present the exact same way. There are theories that exist to try and explain some trends in mental health studies, psychology, and sociology, but again they're called theories for a reason.

Now, my response to this question will be under the cut and will include spoilers.

I know what lore in particular you're referencing, anon, because I've been going back to it a lot ever since I opened this account.

Astarion very much has an insecure attachment style born from his abuse at Cazador's hands. Specifically, an anxious-avoidant attachment type that leans more towards avoidant when he's first met and then begins to swing more towards anxious as he begins to get closer to Tav and the other companions.

Anxious-avoidant attachment types (also known as the “fearful or disorganized type”) bring together the worst of both worlds. Anxious-avoidants are not only afraid of intimacy and commitment, but they distrust and lash out emotionally at anyone who tries to get close to them. Anxious-avoidants often spend much of their time alone and miserable, or in abusive or dysfunctional relationships. Anxious-avoidants are low in confidence and less likely to express emotions, preferring to suppress them. However, they can have intense emotional outbursts when under stress. They also don’t tend to seek help when in need due to a distrust of others. This sucks because they are also incapable of sorting through their own issues. Anxious-avoidants really get the worst of both worlds. They avoid intimacy not because they prefer to be alone like avoidants. Rather, they avoid intimacy because they are so terrified of its potential to hurt them (Mark Manson, Attachment Styles and How They Affect Your Relationships).

Typically, most studies of Attachment Theory focus on the relationship of parents-children or romantic partners, but it can also be applied to any significant relationship someone has in their lifetime. Attachment styles thus are capable of changing based on new relationship experiences.

If you end up giving him the "good" ending where he denies the Ascension, it's implied in his final dialogue that he's actively working towards having a secure attachment type due to the influences of his fellow worm-afflicted associates - particularly Tav.

I think that it's important to also note that, even if Tav doesn't romantically connect with Astarion, he shows hints of desperately wanting someone to care for him, support him, and love him. He does want to know what sex would be like as something other than a tool, and especially what it would be like to actually want to have it just for the pure sake of enjoying having it.

You have to understand that Astarion doesn't even understand the concept of casual sex or friends with benefits. All those times he had to seduce people for Cazador was not casual sex or a friends with benefits situation. All of them were transactions with a means to an end. He got nothing out of seducing those victims besides the possibility of not incurring Cazador's wrath that night - but even then, there was still a possibility because Cazador was an abuser.

Abusers are incapable of providing genuine safety, but can manipulate their victims into believing an illusion of safety. Often times, they manipulate their victims into this by using phrases like "you made me do this by being disobedient", "it wouldn't come to this if you just did what you were told", and then weaponizing basic needs such as shelter, food, and social interaction. The bare minimum becomes something the victim is expected to be grateful for and viewed as a favor, which means anything beyond the bare minimum is expected to be viewed as a theatrical showing of care and love.

In game, Tav has the chance to hear Astarion tell the story of how Cazador turned him. He basically states that he got attacked by a mob due to a ruling he handed down when he was magistrate and then Cazador saved him and offered him immortality. It can be inferred that in his pre-vampiric days, Astarion had no idea that Cazador was abusive to his spawn.

This is likely because it seems that Cazador is careful about his public image. He doesn't allow his spawn to drink from humans, very likely not just as a means to further oppress them and dampen their potential power they could get from drinking people's blood, but also as a way to ensure there's not just a bunch of people out in the city being bitten and left alive to tell the story - or left dead on the street suspiciously.

He has his spawn seduce and lure people, particularly lower class people that would be harder for general society to realize is missing or just that he knows people who could actually challenge him wouldn't care for (you learn that reading some of the books and notes in Szarr Palace). The only exception to this is the kidnapping of Gur children, but even then it seems to fit his MO as it seems Gur are considered somewhat outcasts from the rest of Baldurian society due to their cultural differences.

It should also be noted that he himself doesn't do these seductions or kidnappings. He specifically chooses spawn to be his lackeys and that's likely so, if shit hits the fan and the spawn gets caught, he has deniability since he wasn't there. It's methodical and thought out to keep as many eyes away from him so he can still obtain what he wants and keep sailing under the radar.

Cazador is this methodical and purposeful as a result of his own trauma, which we learn about from the skull of his master in the dungeon of Szaar Palace. There's one interaction in particular with the skull in which Tav can learn that, at one point, Cazador attempted to rebel and usurp his master. Cazador failed and his master punished him via impalement. Not because Cazador had the audacity to try and usurp him, but because Cazador tried and failed. Cazador's master punished Cazador via torture because his master was disgusted by the fact that his spawn was too weak to succeed in such a plot.

Which brings me to my next point... it's not uncommon for victims of abuse to later become abusers. Hence the term Cycle of Abuse exists. Many abusers who were once victims often have the mentality of either "I'm not nearly as bad as my abuser was, they should be grateful I care enough to not be so bad" or "I survived and it made me tougher, they need to suck it up and let it help them build character" or both. They often fail to view their abuse as abuse and fail to recognize how their experience as abuse victims contributes into making them toxic and abusive to others.

There's many peer-reviewed scholarly articles you can find about the cycle of abuse, but one I particularly find useful is Editorial: Dissociation, and cycles of abuse across generations by David P.H. Jones. It talks specifically about parents and children, but I believe some of the general points made can be applied to Cazador and his spawn, as he crafts a very family-like setting that can be seen in the way that his spawn refer to one another as brothers and sisters.

This would thus make him the father figure, a role exponentially made important by the fact he denies his spawn education on things that could serve to give them ideas or the ability to leave him (for example, Astarion mentions that none of the spawn were permitted to learn about the language of the various symbols around the palace) and he consistently chooses his Golden Children (Favored Spawns) as a means of providing more false security. Do what he says, when he says, exactly how he says and don't complain then you will have benefits. You will be Favored, and to have his favor is the highest honor you could achieve.

Torture is clearly presented as Cazador's primary go-to for discipline. Research has also concluded that trauma has a way of affecting the brain and memories.

Trauma can prevent information (like words, images, sounds, etc.) from different parts of the brain from combining to make a semantic memory. The temporal lobe and inferior parietal cortex collect information from different brain areas to create semantic memory (The National Institute for the Clinical Application of Behavioral Medicine).

Astarion mentions a few times in-game that he can barely remember his life before Cazador, if at all, and a huge part of that is likely because of all the trauma Cazador inflicted upon him that exacerbated the natural occurrence of memory loss from aging (if vampires experience natural memory loss from aging, that is). This is most likely true for all of Cazador's spawn.

I say all this as a set up to truly answering you, anon, specifically where you say: "from being controlled, owned, and tortured to being free, curious, and even powerful. Becoming a full vampire and ascending just amplified that. It forced a self-actualization, not a descent into villainy."

I can argue that Astarion did not feel free up until after a decision to Ascend or not was made. And I argue that stance due to some dialogue he can have with Tav here he basically states that the power Ascension could guarantee that no one, even someone after Cazador is dead, could ever come in to oppress and hurt him again. Even with Cazador dead, he has such an intense fear of being enslaved and used that he turns to catastrophic thoughts as justification to why he needs to Ascend.

Catastrophic thinking is a cognitive distortion that occurs when people have a hard time weighing the likelihood of certain outcomes and believe that terrible or catastrophic outcomes—which are highly unlikely—become, in one’s mind, salient and extremely likely. (Tom Zaubler, MD, MPH).

Aside from the Gur, whom Astarion can manage to evade and even kill perfectly fine as just a spawn, we're not presented with any hints of another big bad in the vampire world that could possibly want Astarion. As such, there's not really any tangible threat, but rather a perceived threat that he believes is destined to darken his doorstep at any time.

His catastrophic thinking is a trauma response. His belief that he needs to be the most powerful being in the room as a way to be truly free is a trauma response. Cazador broke him down emotionally, mentally, physically, and sexually to make him believe that he was weak and trapped. Furthermore, that he remained trapped because he was too weak to do anything about it.

You see how this goes full circle into how Cazador's master punished Cazador for not being able to successfully usurp him? It places blame on the victim, allowing shame and helplessness to root that the abuser can manipulate. We know that Astarion definitely feels shame because he tells Tav that. For most of his dialogue until the boss fight, he's constantly bringing up that he did what Cazador wanted and acted obedient because he had no choice.

This is true, he had to act in self-preservation to survive and unfortunately that meant he had to be subservient. A few dialogue choices you can have your Tav pick can challenge Astarion and say he could have still tried, to which he'll rightfully tell Tav that Tav has no right to judge him for the choices he made to survive.

When Astarion encounters Sebastian in the dungeon, its made pretty obvious how much guilt and shame he truly feels. Furthermore, that for all Astarion's protesting and exclaiming that no one has the right to judge him, a part of him did believe that he didn't do enough to try and escape enslavement. A part of himself blamed himself and believed he allowed himself to be abused when, in reality, he was put in a horrible situation with very limited options. He did the best he could in the moment, with what information he had in those moments.

I also want to argue that who Astarion is when we meet him isn't his true self. It's who he had to become in order to survive Cazador. Astarion doesn't even know who his true self is because he didn't have the opportunity to explore his own likes and preferences. Cazador molded all of his spawn because he had a specific purpose for them.

Not only that, but since Cazador would have to more directly deal with these spawn since he used them as lackies, he also would have molded them to behave in ways to his preference so that he wouldn't find their presence unbearable and feel inclined to murder them out of annoyance. This is also where the Favored Spawn being separated and set on a pedestal comes into play. Those who could please him and play to his wants and needs had better benefits. If all of the spawn are acting in self-preservation, they would want to be favored and thus would want to adapt themselves to things Cazador liked and approved of.

This would mean learning to be cruel to those less fortunate and not doing anything as charity. This is the reason why Astarion approves of some questionable decisions Tav can make. Astarion learned his ideals and morality from Cazador because he had to so he could know how to please Cazador and stay in his master's good graces. After a while, even if you started off disagreeing, forcing yourself to act a certain way can become a habit that sticks with you. You convince yourself to enjoy it too so it's easier to swallow.

Astarion craves power because he knows that power is the quickest, easiest, and - what he believes - most effective way to prevent him from having to use that method ever again. It's logical to want power to solve that.

You said in your ask: "He wants to be powerful (protected by his own power too - his power being a means to self-preservation), he wants to be loved, seen, and free. Free of hunger, free to walk in the sun, free of Cazador. All these things are true regardless of the path you choose. But, they are all only attainable through ascension. When you ascend Astarion - he gets everything he wants and becomes who he truly is."

In the most literal of terms, yes, Ascension gives him all of those. However, since the basis of him believing he needs power to be free is rooted in fear, that's not actually really freedom. That is still his fear ruling over him.

There's a stark difference in what someone wants versus what they need. He wants power, to be seen, to be loved, and to be free. What he actually needs is security, stability, support, consistency, empathy, and autonomy. The things he wants is what he believes will solve the empty cups of what he needs, and he believes that because the only example he had on how to act to get what you want - until the events of the game - was Cazador. He literally had no other example of how to get your needs met except through selfishness, cruelty, force, manipulation, and abuse.

Again, I reiterate. The Astarion we first meet is not Astarion's true nature. Astarion's true nature was corrupted by his abuse from Cazador and the subsequent trauma that followed. If it had been his true nature, he would have happily been Cazador's subject because their true natures would have been in alignment.

It only becomes his true nature if he allows that trauma to define him and decides that he needs to embrace it rather than fight it. That is then what gets amplified because that fear that roots those wants becomes amplified.

Honestly, it's impossible to say what would be canon for Astarion because there's too many factors.

Studies have shown that having more supportive and positive influences, even if its later in life after leaving the abuser, tends to work in favor of the victim breaking the cycle of abuse. As such, I think that if you make a Tav who's core values are autonomy, consent, second chances, and redemption and somehow manage to get high enough approval that he'd even consider caring what they think; then its more likely that Astarion would reject Ascension due to observing how much softer, kinder, patient, and merciful Tav is.

But if its a Tav that has no interest in getting to know him beyond the surface or Tav doesn't exist at all, I honestly think he would end up going through with Ascension. Mostly because, to me, it seems like he didn't really bother to have more than surface level interactions with the other companions and the other companions really only ended up getting to know him better as a result to Tav managing to get past his masking. He does not lower his mask on his own accord, only after certain things are done and said by Tav.

Unfortunately, I just don't really think any of the other companions you can pick up in-game would really be able to provide support and determined consistency in the same way that players can make Tav. Hence I don't think he'd end up caring enough about any of them to ever start to think that perhaps freedom can be defined differently than the way he initially believes, and would view Ascension as the only right way to get his needs fulfilled.

[intersex-support]

i've recently been doing a lot of research into intersex conditions ((to be better knowledgable and supportive of a good friend who is intersex)) and i heard about turner syndrome. and the more research i do, the more i think i might have it ((particularly Mosaic form TS))? i have many of the most common symptoms ((very short stature ((4'9 at 15)), small lower jaw, shield chest, very mild lymphadema, low hairline down the back of the neck, very irregular periods ((i have about 3 or 4 periods a year, ever since starting my period)), high/arched palate, lots of moles, and probably some smaller stuff i forgot abt)) would it be worth it to bring it up to my doctor and get tested? expecially if i don't want to receive feminizing hrt. i don't have any other health issues really, so would that just be stealing testing and/or resources from those that really need it?

Hi anon.

usual disclaimer that we can't give medical advice or diagnose.

It makes sense why you would be curious about turners/mosaic TS after looking into the symptoms and seeing that they seem to line up with some of your experiences. And I think that Turner's is one of the intersex variations that it can be important that if you're suspecting you might have it, to actually try to seek a diagnosis if possible.

This is because there are a lot of other health issues that are associated with Turners that can develop at any time in your life, including heart problems, kidney problems, osteoporosis, scoliosis, and sometimes diabetes. Even if you have Turner's, that wouldn't automatically thing that you would also have these other issues, but it would mean that you would be at higher risk and that you might want to undergo different types of monitoring throughout your life. I don't want to scare you unnecessarily because I know plenty of people with Turner's who don't have other health complications, but it is a significant enough associated risk that I think it can really be worth trying to find out that information about yourself if you have other reasons that you're suspecting Turner's.

You wouldn't be stealing testing or resources away from other people--there isn't a shortage of testing in that way. The main obstacles to getting testing and care for intersex people is more due to discrimination and uneducated doctors, rather than a resource shortage. In terms of getting forced on estrogen, you always have the right to deny treatment that you don't want, and to explore alternative options if there's a reason you need some type of hormones for your bone health.

Of course, it is always, always up to you whether you want to try to seek a diagnosis or not, and you'll be the expert on whether this feels like the right thing to do at this point in your life or not. I just wanted to provide some reassurance that you wouldn't be overstepping, and share some of the reasons why Turner's is an intersex variation where a formal diagnosis might be more important.

Please feel free to reach out again if you have any other questions or need any support--this blog is here for you!

[cloudyyoimiya]

hi there, hope you’re doing well! i just read your scenario with yandere ranpo and a darling in danger and i am OBSESSED!! 💜 the dynamic is so freaking good, my favorite bit is when darling asks about the candy being drugged, i feel like it did so much to build up their past relationship and pique my interest. the way that ranpo’s darling was so resigned to their fate was heartbreaking but so well written, i love how much it implies about darling’s experience in captivity while also leaving so much up to the imagination. i have to say i was so thoroughly intrigued by the open ending! the idea that ranpo’s darling defeatedly agrees to go back to their prison, but also clearly still hates it and has simply lost all hope of ever escaping, and is now beginning to give in for the sake of making their miserable life easier..it has infected my brain man (/pos)!! so i saw that your requests were open in your bio and i was like i simply have to ask: would you be willing to write a continuation to that scenario that shows what it is like when ranpo brings his darling back to his home (prison)?

i’ve also written fanfic in the past, so i totally understand if it’s a situation where you had the inspo for the blurb but not really any ideas for past that! so, no pressure to write, but if you would possibly like a further prompt, the idea that i was picturing is a depressing fic where darling is giving in more and more to ranpo because they’re too tired of all of the punishments and they just want their life in captivity to be easier since they know they can’t ever escape him..but if you do decide to write, feel free to write whatever you feel like! Thank you, have a great night! 💜

AUGH thank you for your kind words, anon! they truly mean a lot! i showed this to my friend bc it made me so happy, i hope you don’t mind!! i was having a bad day when i first read your kind words so it cheered me up a lot LMDBF. anyways, here you go! i had fun writing and thinking about what would happen

Coming Back Home; Ranpo Edogawa

Format: Headcanons and scenario

Possible warnings: Yandere content, dark themes, discussion of kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of injuries

Disclaimer: This is a continuation of Ranpos part of this fic! I recommend you read it first!

When you were cleared to finally go home by Yosano, you felt as if you wanted to die. You’d be dragged back to your eternal prison by some man-child that claimed to love you like no other.

You knew what he was capable of, and he’d constantly remind you of it. He’d always tell you that he could frame you for the murder of people you hold dear. He’d make sure that you’d go to prison. The only way for him to prove your innocence and get you out of prison was to stay by his side. Though, all of this is a what if…

He’d make sure that you were his, even if it meant tampering with your criminal record.

Escaping while walking back was out of the question because of this.

When the both of you go returned ‘home’, you were more submissive than usual. You didn’t like it one bit, but it was your only choice at this point. You knew that he’d become more protective over this incident. He doesn’t want you to get kidnapped again…

If you even tried to defy him then things would turn out for the worst.

It was terrible.

If you started to comply more, then maybe he wouldn’t keep you in that one single room anymore. Maybe he’d be slightly kinder…

Don’t get me wrong, he was really “nice” to you even before you got kidnapped by that gang. He made sure that all your needs were met, it’s just the mental blockage of him forcibly taking you from your home that stopped you from returning his “kindness.”

Scenario…

The walk “home” was filled with a deafening silence. You could barely think straight as you walked throughout Yokohama. Your mind kept scattering to when you were first kidnapped by that gang—how they beaten and bruised you. Your body still ached from the beatings despite Yosano using “Thou Shalt Not Die” on you. It hurt to walk. It hurt to breathe. It was suffocating. You hated it.

Ranpo opened the front door to your shared “home” and motioned for you to enter. You reluctantly did so, not wanting to somehow manage to anger him by your hesitance.

You sat down on the nearest couch and stared at your lap. Your pants had several cuts in them, so it was clear that you would need new ones sooner or later. It was unfortunate because they were your favorite pair too! They provided you comfort when you so desperately needed it.

“Are you alright?” Ranpo asked as he sat next to you. “You seem sad.”

You bit your tongue, not wanting to say something that you would regret. “I’m fine, Ranpo.”

Ranpo took out a lollipop from his pocket and unwrapped it. He then plopped it in his mouth and hummed in approval. It was his favorite flavor.

“You don’t seem fine,” he said, the lollipop still in his mouth. “Talk to me.”

“Ranpo I told you I’m fine,” you said back.

You didn’t want him to see your weakness, but you already knew that he saw through you. He was the greatest detective out there, and that’s what scared you. He knew everything about you just by one glance. It made chills slowly creep up your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Someone is lying to me!~” He spoke rather childishly. “(Name), I told you how I feel about liars.”

You tensed up at his words. When he first took you in captive he told you that he’d punish you if you ever lied to him. At first you didn’t believe him at all, but you ended up finding out the hard way that he was indeed speaking the truth. You still remember the day where he refused to feed you because you lied about something that was happening at work. You felt nauseous from the lack of food in your stomach at the time

“Fine. I’m just shaken up is all, alright? Nothing bad.”

Ranpo squinted at you for one moment, trying to see if what you said was the truth. He then nodded to himself then went to hug you.

“Oh my (Name), you’re gonna be okay! Well, you’ll be okay as long as you love me! You do love me, right?”

“I do love you,” you said. You knew that you didn’t mean your words—you never have. You only said it to appease your captor.

Ranpo hugged you tighter. He knew that you didn’t mean your words one bit, but he still accepted them. He knew that one day you’d eventually come around to his affections. That day may not come any time soon, but he’s willing to wait. He’s willing to wait only for you.

You slowly hugged him back, not wanting him to give you any lip about not returning the sign of love. In a gross way it felt strangely comforting, but yet at the same time it felt suffocating. It almost made your skin crawl.

“That’s so good to hear!” He said happily. “Anyways, what do you want for dinner, hm? I’ll order something! You deserve to be pampered after almost dying!”

“Uhm… How about your favorite? I want you to be happy,” you lied through your teeth.

You had to be considerate of his feelings. Otherwise he’d punish you.

“That sounds good,” he hummed.

Ranpo pulled out his phone and he started to order the food. Eventually he looked up at you and gave you a lazy kind smile.

“Go change your clothes.”

You nodded as you stood up. You then went into your bedroom and picked out Ranpos’ favorite outfit of yours. You stripped down and put on the outfit, then walked back out of the room. The outfit wasn’t sexual at all, but it still made you feel uncomfortable.

You sat down next to him and he leaned his head on your shoulder. “The food should be here soon, darling.”

“Alright.”

He wrapped his arms around you delicately. You’ve been so good ever since you returned home with him, and he knew that you were sore, so he decided not to put more stress on your body.

“I love you so much. Promise not to leave me, alright?”

[landslided]

oh, i'm so sorry you didn't like the finale! if you're comfortable sharing, would love to hear why you didn't like it/what you didn't enjoy.

hi anon!!! of course i'd love to yap, you (must) know by now.

very simply i'd like to start by saying that this is things i disliked and while i do believe some of these things are far more important than others, i do not hold any judgement for whoever enjoyed these last five episodes! i truly mean what i said: really happy for the ones who had a blast!!

now that this disclaimer is made let's get into the Nasty bits:

a reason why i loved cobra kai so much was because to me the fights in the show in season one served the story. miguel's ascension to a role of fighter who protected himself and others from bullies only to then become a bully because johnny's karate and philosophy was still too wrapped with kreese's ideologies and his own personal need for revenge and to "fight" daniel. season one puts an accent on the characters, on miguel and johnny's relationship, on robby's feelings towards that, on daniel's bond with his family (and how his own inability to let the past go influences that). season one is quite low in stakes when you think about it: johnny is struggling to make ends meet and teaching a kid how to fight for an under 18 tournament. the highs and lows of the show are the interactions between the characters, how all of them make up, break up, fight, love, tear into each other. low stakes for high emotional tension. it works wonderfully, especially when miguel brings more importance to beating robby than it actually should if it were real life: cobra kai wins the all valley then but johnny loses. he's brought back something that should have stayed dead. cobra kai has tainted another generation of kids and johnny only understand when he's holding that trophy watching daniel leave with robby.

all of these characters hold weight in the story. they're flawed but real, deeply human, complex and beautiful.

season 6 is about the fights. the plot only exists to put these kids (and johnny) on the mat. and it needs to be flashy. it needs to blow up the choreography budget. we need blood, we need slow mo. we need so many different cameras and we need to make 40 minute episodes spent almost in their majority fighting OR talking about the fights.

it's lazy. it's losing focus of what made cobra kai season 1 such a good revival: giving emotional weight to a 80´s movie villain by showing how much his life has been affected by this one thing.

the laziness doesn't just stop at the amount of fights though. this season of cobra kai (and let's be honest, basically every single season of cobra kai since they joined netflix) has spent less and less time with the characters' emotion. and if they do spend some time on what these characters are feeling they need to tell you in extreme detail because they do not trust us, the audience, to understand something that hasn't been spelled out for us explicitly.

(how many speeches can one person give during a karate fight? how many superlatives can be given to robby, miguel, tory, johnny until it becomes a parody?)

if you look at these characters in season 6 and hold them up to their season 1 version, would you recognize them? actually, maybe you would, because there is no growth. no change. johnny, who has learned time and time again that cobra kai doesn't work, that it's not him or what is right for him, goes back because "that's a cool name for a dojo" and we will still strike first, strike hard and have no mercy and no amount of talking around it changes the fact that kreese's memory haunts those words and that man did not deserve redemption, did not deserve to be hugged and forgiven and seen as someone worth having such an impact on the future generations of valley fighters.

for daniel to be the one pushing johnny towards cobra kai is even more of a narrative failure.

"but the show is called cobra kai!" yes and yet the show cobra kai should have ended with the confirmation that the cobra kai dojo is gone, that this philosophy of life has been beaten by johnny, by daniel, by them and the others moving forward and not backwards.

the show's worst mistake is to believe johnny cannot be a beloved character while being called what he is: a reformed bully. johnny was the bad guy but to just say this is so vague, it doesn't let you know what growth he should have gone through (and yes, johnny does go through character changes but i swear to you that so much more could have been given to him): johnny was a bully. let's say it so we can fix it.

cobra kai refuses to have actual villains (except if they're teenage girls who have sex apparently but zara is yet another story) it will throw you a 100 redemption arcs but it will also tell you that these characters didnt need a redemption arc anyway because they were good, deep down, they were always doing the right thing.

that's not true and that's what makes them compelling characters and stories. cobra kai doesn't manage to ever let itself be uncomfortable with the morality of the story it tries to tell in the later seasons. and why should it? you're here for the sekai takai babyyyyy, not to see your favorite character actually be fleshed out, you're here to see BLOOD!!!!

and it doesn't matter if you sideline time and time again the asian characters and influence within your story, mr miyagi is dead anyway!! let's have him fight some skeletons from the grave!! who gives a shit!! that's BADASS.

it doesn't matter that the female characters of the show can be reduced to woman/daughter/mother/sex object. it doesn't matter that laura, carmen and laura junior all have for roles to be the Women of johnny's life. good on sam to go to okinawa maybe she can buy a story arc over there.

but i mean, it's not just the women so it's okay, we're progressive in cobra kai: robby can also be reduced to a few tropes tied together with a cute little bow and then completely sidelined! he can thank his dad for being there for him a total of... 45 minutes in 6 seasons?

tory can fight for cobra kai after saying times and times again she doesn't want to but hey listen she's BADASS and she gets to be an influencer!! something she and robby have shown a LOT of interest across many seasons.

and miguel can also fight for revenge <3 we can say he did it for him but hey, we know it was to win. and that's okay! it's alright! it's not like it goes against his growth too!

actually, lets have daniel fully accept to be in a cobra kai gi, something even karate kid iii didnt do with such enthusiasm. how about we also have him impersonate john kreese? because that guy was so needed.

and johnny can win. he can win a fight to finally buy back his lost honor even though we've established time and time again that he didn't need this win, that to be so obsessed with victory is bad for him, that it goes against who he wants to be.

zara, axel and wolf are Here. and since the writers say zara didn't sexually assault robby (even though hey! that's what it was!) it means that within canon she's just punished to this degree for the sin of? homewrecking? and axel is There. sure. he has some sort of moral compass but he exists also just to fight and not to do anything else within the story.

a kid dies in the last part of this show and nobody truly gives a shit. kreese and silver? blow up? meh. must be a tuesday at the valley.

very high stakes in this season, very low emotional impact. the total opposite from season one.

i could go on and on, i could try and make a better analysis of the military and imperialism propaganda cobra kai has fallen into but others have done it much better than i could and mostly i am tired.

i will always love cobra kai. i will always love daniel larusso and johnny lawrence. i just wish the writers loved them too and not the tasteless, beige clones of them they've made to fight for our entertainment.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

im so curious about your drafts now i feel like we wont get to see them all, so for your rules backstage pass? are there fics you think about and wont post or that you write and dont post?

Of course! Anon here is referencing this post, so you can check it out too. I have a ton of fics I want to write but probably won't and as for drafts, there are plenty written but unposted. So, since you asked, I am going to make it everyone's problem.

Fics I want to write but won't post:

Targtower! Reader x Daemon where she is as unhinged as Aemond (none of that sweet Helaena's twin, I want to see my girl covered in the blood of her enemies) and doing the seducing. Bonus points if I have him still married with Rhaenyra.

Tywin x reader where reader is the daughter to Aerys. The potential for hate sex and daddy issues is endless.

Tywin x reader where reader is politically inclined and skilful at the game of thrones and he despises her for it. Also, one in which reader has morals. Just chaotic good reader.

Frey! Reader x Robb Stark. Saving that man, but not before making everyone suffer.

Stannis x reader. I love dutiful men. Maybe with Lannister reader for spice? Or a kind, understanding betrothed? Can't decide.

Robert Baratheon x Rhaegar's sister. In my head, she tries to kill him at least twice. He laughs.

Daemon orders reader to seduce Aemond. I have written the opposite (Aemond ordered to seduce reader) in MAD and it was so so awkward, I loved it!

A crossover between HP and HOTD/ GOT in which Hermione is the protagonist. I have read a couple of Fem!Harry in HOTD and it seems so so cool, but I think Hermione would suffer more, so of course I want that.

One of those time travelling fics, where x character/ normal person dies and goes to do it all over again/ ends up trapped in the book or series. Seems cool. Which fandom? No idea. I have sort of done this before with Divine Intuition.

Omegaverse. Sounds fun.

A fic in which I kill Viserys after slowly torturing him. If you are new here, he and I have unfinished bussiness.

My drafts:

Harwin x Tyrell reader that very much follows the other Boleyn girl (the part of the book where Anne is going insane trying to seduce Henry and behaving charming all the time, yes, not historical accurate, but fun) only because Margarey's actress played Anne too. Also, they renovate Harrenhall. Because I want to.

Harwin x Tully reader who despises him to death.

Modern Jace who just... Adopts reader and brings her to his home and it's all very nice and pretty and they love each other.

Rhaenyra as La Llorona and reader as a Septa, performing an exorcism but make it sexy! (Disclaimer: soy latina, no me funen y lo estaba escribiendo para Halloween. En fin, lo que le pasó a Hawai, no?)

[dashielldeveron]

thinking about the katsuki office kiss scene (feat izuku) and the potential unwritten freak it holds is absolutely driving me insane and i have to voice my thoughts before they brain rot me like termites eating the foundations of a house. (also quick disclaimer that I’m sosososos understanding of why this more horny aspect was not explored in fic [goes against like the whole message, and how the harem is handled in fic is one of my favourite aspects of the whole thing] i just thought itd would be fun to explore as it’s own seperate thing)

not to thirst on anon (and please feel free to nuke the fuck out of this ask if it’s too thirsty because i totally understand) but the fact that the reader is too busy freaking the fuck out to notice the reaction of izuku across the room and the unspoken interactions happening between katsuki and him leaving it all deliciously unwritten and completely up however insane the audience interpretation of it is. and im a very insane audience!

like. do you think the katsuki looked izuku straight in the eye and then proceeded to open his mouth and start full on making out with reader?? you think that katsuki saw izuku glare at him with the most restrained desire to kill him and he put his hand on her neck, spurring him on to kiss her deeper??? (because while their more intense high school rivalry has been settled long ago i don’t think they’ll ever fully dull the urge to, at least, be in competition with each other, especially if they both are interested in the same person, katsuki is probably having such an inappropriately good time like ‘the girl i want is sitting in my lap and making out with me and im simultaneously beating izuku at something !! yay!!!’ [he does love to win, and in his mind having izukus soulmate want to make out with him probably registers as some fucked up form of ‘winning’ lmao this guy and his deranged inner world i love you freak number 2])

Do you think when reader sat fully down on katsuki’s lap it was taking so much (sexy) control of his not to march over there and get reader off of him immediately?? do you think that he was looking at the way katsuki was kissing reader and already was making notes on how he could do it so much better???? im going insane. internal battle between him being so pissed that katsuki is getting the makeup session he has been (literally) dying for, being incredibly concerned for your mental well-being and paying attention to how you kiss so he can better his plan to sexually infuriate you till you break.

^ (this led to a very long tangent on me talking about which of the soulmate troupe guys have some kind of jealousy issues, then further spiralled out of control to me rereading some of the chapters again so I could attempt to create a numbered ‘from least to jealous soulmate troupe guy’ list. it’ll have to be it’s own separate deranged ask).

lmaooooo sorry for this very strange ramble (again), i just love freak number one (izuku) and freak number two (katsuki). expect another ridiculously long ask in your inbox again soon

(also it was not a typo izuku is hoe 100% insane and that’s why he is matching my freak like take a look at this ask and tell me he wouldn’t also hyper-analyse literally one thing reader has done and think about all the horny subtext. hoe insane matched my freak.)

-cork board anon

everybody leave i wanna be alone with cork board anon

GOD IZUKU'S REACTION. and none of what i'm about to say is necessarily canonical to the fic, bc, like you said, it's unwritten so that the audience can imagine :)

so. ofc we don't see izuku's reaction bc reader is panicking. but like??? he's right there??? on the other side of the desk?? and he could OFA zip over there and tear them apart, but since it's a choice reader's decided to make, he's going to let her, and izuku knows she's worried about all her potential soulmates, so he just can't bring himself to stop her. which must hurt him so badly.

so holy FUCK the idea of bakugou staring izuku down while he's kissing her. oh my god. that brings izuku into the potential romantic dynamic, so instead of bakugou/reader like reader thinks, it's a fucked-up bakugou/reader/izuku. oh fuck. and i mean this in a sexy, jarring way: what you said reminded me of these CGs in jumin han's route in mystic messenger:

bc jumin is trying to make a point to the people watching him kiss MC and UGH it shooketh me the first time i experienced it. of course it's not a perfect comparison, bc reader's more in control/desperation than either jumin or MC are here, but i think the Vibe could fit. dear GOD bakugou opening his mouth while staring down izuku--would katsuki be more exerting a sort of bragging dominance over izuku, or would he be more surprised at the situation, just going along? bc for the moment, katsuki's winning. he doesn't know why, but he'll take it. and izuku can't do anything about it, because his soulmate would see him act poorly. i fully think that if reader hadn't been having a panic attack and vomiting, then it could've escalated to, like, katsuki sucking a hickey onto the top of her boob, or something, before he felt like he was going too far. and katsuki would be all smug about it, probably laying reader on her back on his desk, and once he surfaced, he'd wipe the back of his mouth with a wry grin and say something like "had to have some taste of you, sweetheart." and then he'd give her waist a final squeeze and say, "she's all yours, izuku." and he proceeds to bring this incident up for the rest of your lives. offers to relieve you if izuku's giving you a hard time (it's brushed off as a joke; he half means it and half doesn't--izuku rolls his eyes from across the restaurant booth and irritatedly peels at the wrapper on his beer bottle, and his grip around your shoulder tightens).

you see, your honour, i'll kill him :) :) :)

but UGH you're so RIGHT it was probably torturing izuku to see his soulmate kiss someone else, but he probably couldn't tear his gaze away because he wanted to see how she kisses people, so he could learn more about what she likes.......you're so big-brained. i love to see a man who is morally tortured inside. imagine his muscles tensing while he's going through all of the options in his brain. imagine him his mouth and nose twitching in fury. but he can't. do. anything. because that's his best friend and his soulmate, the two people (besides his mom and all might) that he loves more than anyone else in the world. he's not gonna hurt them. he understands how violence could be brought into the situation. but. but he's not gonna.

i would LOVE to hear your thoughts on the soulmates and jealousy 👀👀👀 bc i think i've really only thought about izuku's and a tiny bit of tenko's--because i feel like izuku gets INSANELY jealous but also has insanely high self-control--like in fic when reader kisses shinsou and midoriya seems all calm (he is NOT CALM on the inside) and is like "she knows what she's doing wrong." 👀👀👀 and i think that is SO sexy of him. because he COULD be possessive and controlling. it's his first instinct. but he won't. he won't. bc that would make us sad and perhaps a little scared. (and then tenko's jealousy--i've only thought about it in the context of touya, bc to tenko, touya seems confident and charismatic and very capable of stealing his girl away from him. so his jealousy comes from awfulllllll insecurity that he's not good enough :( but we love him very much, so hopefully he'll get over that in time.)

i appreciate you so much. you feel just as crazy insane about these ideas as i am. and yeah lol izuku would prob be into this, the over-analysis for fun and enjoyment. GOOD. we want to attract freaks!!! freaks only zone!!!! i love HIM i love YOU i hope your day is peaceful!!!!!!! xx.