#so idk i took it as a sign to not give up on my dreams and so i won't! also will study my best <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[transgender-catboy]

had weird dream, was in elementary school and there was a big room the size of the gymnasium just FULL of blacklight and shadow beasts that would sneak out all the time. One being this black foal with a white stripe on its nose that would basically turn itself into shadows so it could slip under the door and charge at people

There was tons of other stuff too like fat shadow snakes and glow worms and . men. but I also remember the printer was alive and would go around scanning people, and the fridge in the teachers lounge had a bunch of buttons on top of it. I accidentally ordered pizza through the fridge buttons.

[astrxealis]

sleepy 😞

[luvergirl-866]

what about a one shot where azzi gets hurt (nothing too serious) and paige just worried about her and takes care of her tons of fluff and maybe some smut at the end? just paint bring the ultimate gentle gf

not a lot, just forever

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 3.6k

content - illness/menstruation, language, implied sex, azzi having everyone wrapped around her finger

a/n - a little smth to tide yall over for sll chap 8!! this took me like all day, idk why lol. obviously i went off prompt, that’s my bad 😭 azzi doesn’t get injured but like close enough, and no smut sorry 😔. very much inspired by the fact that azzi has been sick lately and the injury scare last night, just thought we all needed a little fluff after that bc whew! anyway, i hope yall enjoy!!

Azzi is smack in the middle of a perfect dream—in which she and Paige disagree about something and Paige is completely silent while Azzi explains all the reasons she’s right—when her alarm brutally awakens her.

“Nooo,” she groans into her pillow. Her voice comes out all croaky and the word scratches painfully at her throat on the way out. Two warning signs of what she knew was coming—she’s sick.

To be sure, she tries to take a deep breath in through her nose, and fails. She must’ve been breathing through her mouth all night with how congested she is.

Suddenly overtaken by an aggressive coughing fit, Azzi fishes under the pillows for her phone, alarm still buzzing annoyingly.

Somehow, her phone must’ve found itself under Paige’s pillow because after a quick search, Azzi realizes it’s certainly not under her’s.

Sighing, Azzi shoves at Paige’s shoulder, trying to move her but the girl is dead weight when she’s asleep.

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, shaking her now. “Move your big-ass head.”

Paige groans similarly to how Azzi did a few minutes ago, then rolls onto her stomach, unhelpfully clutching her pillow closer. “Turn it offff,” she whines quite babyishly, for a girl who claims to be the ‘masc’ in the relationship.

Azzi rolls her eyes. “I’m trying, it’s under your pillow.”

“No it’s not,” Paige whines.

“Yes it is,” Azzi says, shoving Paige over. “Seriously, it’s getting annoying, you have to move so I can turn it off.”

“Ughhh,” Paige says dramatically, but then she turns onto her side, giving Azzi access to the pillow, and promptly falls back asleep.

“Why, thank you, your highness,” Azzi grumbles, finally finding her phone and turning off that god-awful alarm.

It’s in the silence of the room that she realizes a headache has started to form at the base of her head. Perfect.

She’s already been in bed for too long—if she wants to get dressed, do her hair, and have enough time to drag Paige out of bed and get her ready so they’re both on time to practice, she needs to get up now.

Doing her best to ignore the searing pain in her throat, head, and lungs, Azzi climbs over Paige—who doesn’t move, nothing more than a lump under the covers—and crawls out of bed, turning on the bedside lamp. The warm light illuminates the room and Azzi goes to the closet, trying to find comfort in the monotony of her morning routine. But as she bends down to reach inside the drawer which is dedicated to her underwear, she feels an aching soreness in her legs and pelvis—partly to do with the suicides Coach made them run yesterday, but mostly to do with the fact that Paige was insatiable last night, not stopping until Azzi tapped out after their fourth round.

At the time, it was hot and felt so, so good. Now it makes her groan when she straightens up, and she glares at the lump sleeping peacefully under the covers.

“All your fault,” Azzi grumbles to no one as she gets dressed, because if she can blame her sore legs on Paige, then why not blame her sickness on her, too? “So damn horny all the time. ‘Azzi, it’ll be fun. Azzi, I’ll be gentle. Azzi, just one more, we haven’t even used the strap yet.’” Azzi laments her girlfriend’s convincing tone from last night, that sly smile looking up at her from in between her legs, those hands that bent her over the bed after making her legs shake so much she could barely stand, and pummeled into her so feverishly Azzi was pretty sure she could feel it in her guts. “Damn,” Paige had sighed after they were finally done, “good thing we’re both girls. Because you’d prolly be pregnant with, like, triplets after that.”

Last night, in her fucked-out haze, it had made Azzi laugh. Now, the memory just makes her roll her eyes, kneeling down to check that both she and Paige’s gym bags have everything they need in them. “Not even how that works,” Azzi mutters bitterly. “Dumbass.”

Once that’s done, Azzi leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind her because she may be sore and annoyed but she’s always going to make sure Paige gets her sleep.

When she gets to the bathroom, the door is closed, and Azzi knocks lightly. “‘S me.”

“Azzi?” comes Jana’s equally exhausted voice on the other side of the door.

“Yeah.”

The door opens, and the glare Jana directs toward her once they’re face to face startles her. “What—“

“Sounds like you lost your voice,” Jana remarks, quite sassily if you ask Azzi.

“Yeah, I—“

“Probably from all that screaming last night.”

Azzi freezes, then bites her lip sheepishly. “We tried to be quiet.”

“Paige was quiet,” Jana says, stepping to the side to let Azzi into the room. “You, on the other hand…”

“Uh, oops?” Azzi responds, flashing an apologetic smile.

As usual, it works, and Jana shoves her affectionately as Azzi steps into the bathroom.

“Wait till y’all are alone if you’re gonna be trying to make babies,” Jana teases. Then she studies her face and says, “You don’t look too good, Azaray.”

Azzi nods, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she wets her toothbrush, seeing herself for the first time this morning. Her cheeks are flushed, bags heavy under her eyes, lips pale. “Think I finally got sick.”

About two weeks ago, a couple of the girls got sick with some kind of flu. Of course, with the team spending all their time together, the rest of the girls followed soon after. Paige was one of the last to get sick, last week, and as soon as she did Azzi knew any hopes of staying away from this virus were out the window. Considering the fact Paige and Azzi would live inside each other’s skin if they could, if one of them gets sick, both of them do.

Paige got better over the weekend. Now it’s Tuesday and Azzi becomes even more annoyed at the thought that Paige gave her this illness.

“You’re still going to practice?” Jana asks, watching as Azzi brushes her teeth.

Azzi nods.

“Why?”

Azzi shrugs her shoulders, then says around the brush in her mouth, “Can’t mish it.”

“We all skipped when we got sick,” Jana says.

Shrugging again, Azzi spits into the sink, rinses off her toothbrush. “Season’s starting soon. And I’m already not cleared to play right away, I don’t wanna get pushed back even further.”

Jana raises an eyebrow at her. “And you think Paige is gonna let her precious princess go to practice with the flu?”

Azzi looks at herself in the mirror, and is reminded that she is, in fact, a grown woman. A grown woman who is independent and knows her own limits and can make decisions for herself.

“Paige can’t let me do anything,” Azzi replies, sure of herself.

Ten minutes later, she walks back into Paige’s bedroom to test that theory.

The room is still dark, as expected, and also as expected, Paige is still snuggled up in her purple fluffy comforter.

The sight of her girlfriend, wrapped like a burrito in bed with only her face uncovered, blonde hair splayed over her pillow, makes Azzi soften a bit. She’s honestly like a baby when she sleeps, and it gives Azzi cuteness aggression.

Finding it a little harder to be annoyed at her horny, sickness-spreading girlfriend, Azzi flicks on the light, smiling when Paige grumbles faintly.

Azzi sits on the edge of the bed, brushes her hand through Paige’s hair like she does every morning. “Hey,” she whispers.

Paige snuggles further into the comforter. Now she’s only visible from the nose up.

“Time to get up,” Azzi continues.

Paige doesn’t respond. Not a good sign.

“You only have twenty minutes to get ready, babe,” Azzi insists, brushing her fingers gently over the face she has touched and kissed too many times to count. “You really gotta get up.”

Again, there’s no response, but when Azzi leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek, Paige finally cracks her eyes open, sleepy smile gracing her features.

“Oh, good, you’re not dead,” Azzi says sarcastically.

Paige wriggles out of the blankets just enough to free her arms, wrapping them around Azzi’s neck and pulling her down for a kiss.

She only manages a peck before Azzi wrestles out of Paige’s grip, pulling away. “We can’t.”

Paige closes her eyes against the overhead light and pouts. “Why?”

“Because I’m sick,” Azzi replies, brushing her thumb over Paige’s bottom lip, “you big baby.”

Paige’s eyes miraculously fly open at this, and though she’s still squinting, she looks incredibly more alive than she did two seconds ago. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Azzi sighs. “Could only avoid it for so long, I guess.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Paige pushes up onto her elbows as if to get a better look at her. “Why’re you up right now? You gotta rest.”

Here they go. Azzi preps herself for an argument, and desperately wishes for her dream from last night to come true. “I can rest after practice.”

Paige scoffs as if she’s just told a joke. “You’re kidding, right?”

“It’s not a big deal, I feel fine,” Azzi tries, but then her body betrays her and she coughs so hard she nearly doubles over.

Paige is wide awake in an instant, shooting up to rub her back, not even complaining about how she doesn’t wanna get up or it’s so cold in here. “Az, you’re definitely sick.”

“Thanks,” Azzi coughs into her elbow, “I didn’t know.”

“Sassy, too,” Paige remarks. Azzi tries to glare at her but it must not pack a punch because Paige just gets this sympathetic look on her face. “Aw, baby. Just lay back down, lemme call Coach and tell him what’s goin’ on.”

“No, Paige,” Azzi croaks, grabbing her wrist to stop her from reaching for her phone. “Don’t tell him I’m sick. He won’t let me come in.”

“Yeah,” Paige says, using her free hand to grab her phone despite Azzi’s protests, “that’s kinda the point.”

“You don’t get it,” Azzi replies, trying to reach for Paige’s phone but Paige stands up, holding it over her head and out of Azzi’s reach.

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, looking down at her. “Try me.”

“I wanna play,” Azzi says emphatically, the bright light of the room and the stress of talking making her head full-on pound now. “And if I miss practice I might be…”

“Pushed back further,” Paige finishes, lowering her arm when Azzi nods. Azzi doesn’t make a reach for the phone, though, and Paige kneels down in front of her, resting her arms on Azzi’s knees. “Your head hurt?”

“No,” Azzi lies.

Paige licks her lips, reaches a hand up to cup Azzi’s cheek. “I’ll grab some Ibuprofen, okay?”

Paige is up before she can respond, throwing some clothes on and leaving the room while Azzi sits helplessly on the edge of the bed. She glances at her phone—they only have fifteen minutes to get ready now.

When Paige comes back, she has two pills in one hand and the thermometer in the other, a worried frown playing on her lips.

Azzi stands up, trying her best not to let show how dizzy it makes her. “You don’t have to take my temperature, it’s okay.”

Paige only hands over the medicine, watches Azzi swallow the pills down.

“Okay, we’re good,” Azzi says, gently pushing Paige away by her chest. “No need for the thermometer. I’ll get through practice fine.” Even though she’s pretty sure she needs something a lot stronger than Ibuprofen to cure the aches and pains all over her body.

“If you have a fever, you can’t go to practice,” Paige says, stepping toward Azzi with the thermometer clutched almost menacingly in her hand. “It’s not allowed. Those are the rules.”

“Well, I don’t,” Azzi says, though she’s sure she does. And that’s exactly why she shies away when Paige lifts the thermometer to her forehead.

“Az, stop it,” Paige says when Azzi grabs her wrist, ducking away from the object. “You gotta let me.”

“Did you not hear me, earlier?” Azzi asks, and then there’s a cramp in her abdomen, sudden and painful and all-too familiar. “Oh, my god. No way.”

“Wha…? Azzi,” Paige says as Azzi rushes past her, following her on the way to the bathroom.

She tries to go in with her but Azzi shuts the door and locks it, rushing to the toilet and pulling her pants down to find exactly what she feared.

She started her period. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Az?” Paige calls through the door. “Yo, you good?”

Azzi nearly cries. This is it. She gives up. She’s going to sit here and melt forever and Coach will never let her play basketball again and Paige will leave her for some other girl who isn’t sick and gross and bloody.

“Did you die?” Paige asks. “Baby, you gotta respond so I know you didn’t die.”

“Didn’t die,” Azzi responds weakly. Though she might as well have.

“Okay…” Paige says slowly. “So, can you let me in?”

Azzi gets the strangest sensation then—in which she both wants to yell at Paige to go away and simultaneously feels as if she needs to be curled up in Paige’s arms within the next five minutes or else she might…well, die.

This is basically how she feels every time she starts her period. She’s sure it’s very fun for Paige.

Situating herself, Azzi stands up, clutching at her stomach, head pounding—it’s like the Ibuprofen doesn’t exactly know where to help. She washes her hands and then hesitates near the door, unsure whether she wants to emerge, but that need for her girlfriend wins over her annoyance at the world and she opens the door.

Paige doesn’t have time to react before Azzi is walking directly into her chest, arms limp at her sides while she resists the urge to scream into Paige’s sweater.

“Uh…” Paige says, wrapping her arms tentatively around Azzi’s shoulders, “you okay?”

“Started my period,” Azzi says, voice muffled in Paige’s shoulders

“Oh. That’s early,” Paige notes. Azzi can nearly hear the smile in her voice when she says, “Least you’re not pregnant.”

There’s another thing about Azzi on her period: her patience for Paige, which is usually plentiful, dwindles into nothing. And suddenly her stupid jokes and tendency to poke fun don’t seem endearing anymore.

The fact that every major organ in her body seems to be fighting for their life right now doesn’t help, either.

“It’s not funny,” Azzi says, pushing away from Paige’s grasp.

Paige reaches for her. “Hey, sorry, I—“

“Call Coach,” Azzi grumbles, sentence interrupted by a painful cough as if to taunt her, “don’t even care if I can’t play anymore.”

It’s the farthest thing from the truth, of course. The thought of this little flu being another thing getting in the way of her playing makes her stomach turn. But she doesn’t say that, just marches right past Paige and into the bedroom, shutting off the light before jumping into bed, where she plans on pouting for the remainder of the day.

Paige doesn’t follow her in, and Azzi can hear the soft noise of her talking out in the hallway. Probably calling in, telling them Azzi won’t be at practice. The faint sounds of her voice turn that switch once again, and she wants Paige by her side more than anything else.

A few minutes pass before Paige is coming into the room. She comes to the edge of the bed and leans over it, placing her hands on either side of Azzi’s head as she hovers over her. “Baby, I gotta go to practice. I asked Coach if I could stay here but that was a hard no.”

Azzi would be shocked if otherwise. Even so, she dreads spending the next couple hours without Paige by her side, because Paige is the only person who can ever really make her feel better.

Still, she nods, doing her best to manage a smile up at her girlfriend. “Okay. I’ll just go back to sleep, it’s okay.”

Paige nods, leans down to brush their noses together. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Paige.”

Paige presses a kiss to her lips. Azzi doesn’t have it in her to protest about germs. “You’re not mad at me?”

That gets Azzi to really smile, a little. “No. Just cranky.”

“Mm.” Paige gives her another kiss, then one on her forehead, before straightening up. “I’ll be back soon, mama. I’ll bring some stuff back for you, okay? Just lemme know what you want.”

Azzi nods. She almost watches Paige leave in slow-motion, like a sad scene from a movie. She can almost hear the background music.

Rolling over, she tries to relax, hoping for some more sleep. But her eyes stay wide open.

——————————————

Two and a half hours later, Paige comes home to find Azzi unloading the dishwasher.

As soon as Paige steps through the front door, Azzi freezes, a guilty look on her face. Paige’s mouth drops open as if affronted.

“Yo, what’re you doing?” Paige asks, kicking her shoes off.

Azzi steps away from the dishwasher. “Uh, just thought I’d do some cleaning up…”

“Bro,” Paige says. It’s perhaps the most disappointed bro Azzi has ever heard.

“I’m sorry!” she says, leaving the kitchen fully to meet Paige at the door. “I couldn’t get back to sleep and I needed a distraction.”

Paige walks past her to set the two bags of groceries she brought home on the counter. “You need to rest,” she corrects. She rounds back on Azzi, taking her by the hips and walking them toward the couch. “You won’t get better if you don’t rest.”

“I took DayQuil,” Azzi pipes up, as if it’ll earn her brownie points.

Paige gives her a look and then sits her on the couch. “Lay down.”

Dutifully, Azzi does, allowing her body to relax as much as possible even while everything hurts.

“Can’t believe you did chores,” Paige goes on as she walks back to the kitchen. “‘S not even your dorm.” She sounds almost as if she’s muttering to herself now as she goes through the grocery bags. “Walk in and my sick girlfriend’s doing the dishes. The fuck.”

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it,” Azzi says, lifting her head up. Paige gives her another look and she lays back down.

Usually (that is, outside of the bedroom) Azzi is the one who tells Paige what to do. But today, she’s too weak to argue.

“It’s a big deal because I told you to relax while I was gone.” Pulling out a tray, Paige arranges all of the groceries on it. She carries it over to Azzi, and it’s a little haphazard with snacks and medicine and a glass of water but it’s also perfect because Paige did it.

“Thank you,” she says when Paige sets the tray on the coffee table.

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies nonchalantly, already leaving the room on the hunt for something else. When she comes back, she has a heating pad and the blanket that Azzi has dubbed as her favorite in hand. “Which one? Heating pad, blanket? Both?”

“Both,” Azzi says without hesitation.

Paige is already plugging the heating pad into the wall.

She places it on Azzi’s lower abdomen, exactly where the cramps hit her the worst, and then throws the blanket over her.

“And here’s the remote,” she says, passing it over once Azzi is situated. She pushes her hand into Azzi’s curls, scratching gently at her scalp as she kneels by her. “What else you need, baby? I can go make you somethin’, or if I forgot anything from the store I can run back.”

Azzi shakes her head, reaching her arms out for her girlfriend, who is quick to pull her into her arms and hold her there. “My girl,” Paige murmurs in her ear, rubbing her back soothingly. “I’m sorry you’re not feelin’ well, baby.”

Azzi hums into her shoulder. “Feel a little better now.”

“Yeah?” Paige kisses her temple, then pulls away. “You wanna turn on the TV?”

Azzi nods, and Paige sits down, laying Azzi’s head in her lap, one hand stroking her pulse point while the other flicks through Netflix.

Azzi stares up at her girlfriend, wonders how she got so lucky. (She has no idea Paige thinks the same thing every time she wakes up to Azzi’s gentle voice in the morning.)

“Paige,” she says, and Paige looks down at her immediately. “I love you.”

Paige smiles down at her, leaning over for a sideways kiss. “I love you, mama.”

“You should stop kissing me.”

Paige kisses her again. “I already got sick, you cant give it to me.”

“I don’t know if we should rely on that.”

“You could have the black plague or some shit,” Paige says, pulling Azzi’s head up now to kiss her a little more deeply, “and I would still kiss you.”

Shaking her head fondly, Azzi scoots up, Paige’s legs opening to make room for her as she sits sideways between them, resting her head in the crook of Paige’s neck. She smells good, freshly showered, hair still a little damp. Paige picks a movie before hooking her arm around Azzi’s back, using her free hand to hold the heating pad in place over her tummy.

“Getting sleepy?” Paige asks after a few minutes.

Azzi nods, hums into her neck. “Little bit.”

“Go to sleep, pretty girl,” Paige says, hand soothing up and down her back, and Azzi is finally right where she belongs, safe and secure and at home in Paige’s arms.

For the first time all day, her body stops aching. And finally, with Paige’s gentle voice whispering sweetly in her ear, she gets some much-needed sleep.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

hiii

so idk if your requests are open but could you please write some hcs about clayton Beresford as a husband and dad

Thank youuu ❤️

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

HUSBAND/DAD!CLAY HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: of course my requests are open! I just LOVE seeing notification from my inbox, so thank you very much <3 hope you like it

MARRIAGE

Clayton Beresford who after two delightful years of your relationship proposed to you. He took you to the fancy restaurant, and since it was something you did often, you hadn't have any suspicious. But have you thought about marrying him? Of course, yet, you wanted to give him time. You knew how his earlier marriage ended so it'd be out of your character to even suggest him taking your relationship to another level. But the ring you got was out of your wildest dreams - 4 carat round cut diamond ring that seemed to shine more than every star in the sky

Clayton Beresford who got even more all-about-you after wedding. Even more love making with no care in the world, long honeymoon, even more spent time together just more everything

Clayton Beresford who, despite his demanding job, always makes time for you. He’s the type of husband who will surprise you with small gestures; like leaving sweet notes in your purse or sending you flowers (mostly to your workplace) randomly just to remind you that he’s thinking of you.

Clayton Beresford who loves planning spontaneous weekend trips to your favorite places. Whether it’s a cozy cabin in the mountains or a luxury hotel in the city, Clayton enjoys these escapes to focus solely on you without any distractions.

Clayton Beresford who's big on surprises. He might book a last-minute trip to Paris (or any place on earth), arrange for a private dinner on the rooftop of the restaurant's building or just in the place you'd not be able to pay by yourself. Or buy you that piece of jewelry you casually mentioned months ago.

Clayton Beresford who has a strong protective instinct. He always ensures you’re safe, and anyone who might pose a threat to you or your happiness would have to face his wrath.

Clayton Beresford who depended on you doing the grocery shopping since he had never done that before (however after a few times he gained knowledge);

Clay glanced away for just a second, but when he looked back, you were gone. His brow furrowed as he scanned the immediate area, stepping away from the cart to see if you had wandered behind another display. But there was no sign of you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, frustration creeping in as he quickened his pace, determined not to lose you. Not in this place.

He began weaving through the aisles, his eyes darting around in search of you, listening intently for any sound that might be your voice. But the supermarket was huge, and the weekend crowd made it even more overwhelming.

With a groan of annoyance, Clay pressed on, moving faster now, his heart racing a little at the thought of losing you in this sea of people. Then, suddenly, his eyes caught a glimpse of you between rushing people. A glimmer of hope flickered in his chest as he turned sharply toward the sound.

You were standing by the dairy section, casually chatting on the phone as you picked up items. Relief washed over him, and he silently thanked whatever forces led him to find you.

Like a lost puppy or a child who had been separated from their parent, he hurried over to you, his earlier frustration melting into a quiet sense of relief.

Reaching for a carton of milk, you sensed someone close behind you. Turning around, you found Clay standing there, his expression a mix of worry and boyish vulnerability that made you smile. It was as if he had been a little kid lost in a big mall again.

You handed him the shopping list, tapping the line where it said 'bananas' with a knowing look.

Clay accepted the list with a determined nod. He was a grown man—he could handle picking up some bananas.

But when he reached the produce section, his confidence wavered as he stared at the six different types of bananas on display, his frown deepening in confusion.

It was supposed to be a simple task: grab the bananas and return to you. Yet here he was, staring at the display like they were some exotic species he had never encountered.

He didn't recognize any of the types, and he had no clue which one you wanted. So, with a loosing sigh, he carefully picked a bunch of yellow bananas, added some mini ones, and then tossed in a few green ones for good measure. Feeling a bit more confident, he placed them all in the cart and made his way back to you. A small, proud smirk forming on his lips as he approached.

“I got them,” he announced, a hint of pride in his voice as if he had just completed a great feat.

You glanced down at the cart, noticing the remarkable assortment. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked back at him. "Baby, but... they're all different kinds."

His smirk faded slightly as a flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. He glanced at the cart, then back at you “I know,” he admitted, his voice soft and a bit self-conscious. “I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I just… grabbed a few to be safe.”

Your heart melted at his effort, and you stood on your toes to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "C'mon, we'll figure out these bananas together."

His cheeks flushed a deeper red at your affectionate gesture, and he looked down at you with warm, loving eyes, a shy smile curving his lips.

“Okay,” he murmured, feeling content as he started pushing the cart again, this time with you walking beside him.

PREGNANCY

Clayton Beresford who was shocked yet thrilled when he found out you're pregnant. He was always gentle with you but from that day he got on another level of doing everything in his power to make sure you're safe, happy and comfortable

Clayton Beresford who seemed to be hypnotized by your changing body (so obviously loved to have his hands on it, and you loved when he did)

Clayton Beresford who had to deal with your neediness for attention/affection;

"Baby, I'm already late. You know I can't stay longer," he sighs, slipping on his black cloak, the fabric rustling as he moves with familiar urgency.

"Are you sure you can't stay just a little longer?" you pout, leaning against the doorframe of your mudroom

He chuckles softly and walks over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest "Baby, I'd love nothing more than to stay," he murmurs "But…" he sighs again, the weight of responsibility heavy in his voice, "you know I can't be late twice in a row."

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his muscles firm against your softer frame. The warmth of his embrace makes you want to hold onto him just a little longer.

"But I thought you'd make love to me all morning," you tease, your voice soft and playful "and then spoil me with a big breakfast."

His eyes softened after his large hands roam over to cup your pregnant belly, his fingers gently tracing over the curve "That was the original plan," his lips formed into a knowing smirk. His hands linger on your body, as if memorizing every inch before he has to let go. "But you know I've got to go to work…"

"But what if the baby comes out while you're not here?" you pout, feeling the warmth of his knuckles as they gently trace over your swollen belly.

He chuckles softly at your worry, his lips curling into a reassuring smile. He steps back slightly, his hands slipping from your waist to admire the sight of your pregnant form. "Babe, we've talked about this. The baby's not coming today," he says with a confident grin, glancing down at your round belly before meeting your concerned gaze.

"Yeah... right," you mumble, still not entirely convinced.

He can't help but smirk at how endearingly moody you are, especially when you pout like that. With a gentle touch, he wraps his fingers around your chin, tilting your face up so you're looking directly into his smiling eyes. "Don't give me that look," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth as he leans in closer, his breath brushing against your lips.

"I'm gonna miss you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as the reality of his departure sinks in.

His gaze locks onto your big, sparkling eyes as he gently cups your cheeks. "I'm going to miss you too, baby. But I have to go to work," he murmurs with a tender smile, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips once more.

"I love you, you know," your voice lingering, trying to stretch out the moment just a little longer.

His smile deepens, touched by your efforts to keep him close, but he's all too aware of the ticking clock. "I love you too, more than anything. But if I don't leave now, I'll be late for a meeting with the board... and I can't afford to do that again," his tone a mix of regret and urgency as he gives you a sympathetic look, hoping you understand.

"But you're their boss," you protest softly, a pout forming on your lips.

He sighs, knowing that leaving without giving you something special will likely leave you moody for the rest of the day. Even though he’s pressed for time, he quickly pivots. "How about I give you a kiss for the road?" he suggests, a playful glint in his eyes as he shifts the mood.

"Okay," you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He smiles back, his hand finding its way to your cheek once more, tenderly cradling your face. He pauses, taking a moment to get lost in your sparkling blue eyes, savoring the connection before slowly closing his own and leaning in. His lips meet yours in a slow, loving kiss

Clayton Beresford who makes sure to lift up your pregnancy mood;

His heart sank at the sight of your tear-streaked face. Instantly, worry fills his eyes and he kneels beside you, his voice soft and full of concern. "Baby, what’s wrong?" He gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I feel so huge..." you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.

"Baby, you know I love every part of you. Nothing could ever change that," he says tenderly, his words full of sincerity.

But your insecurities linger, and you turn to him, searching his face. "So you think I’m huge?" you ask, misinterpreting his silence as agreement.

He sighs again, feeling a pang of guilt at how vulnerable you are right now. Quickly, he tries to soothe your worries before they spiral. "No, no, love..." he insists, cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the traces of your tears. "You’re not huge, you’re beautiful."

You glance down at your growing belly, frustration evident in your voice. "I barely fit into my pants."

He smiles softly, his gaze never leaving yours, understanding the deep-seated concerns you have about your changing body. "I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "But that’s just because of the incredible little life you’re carrying."

"You look absolutely radiant when you’re pregnant," he adds, his words filled with admiration, careful not to say anything that might upset you further.

"Yeah?" you sniffle, your voice small and uncertain.

He nods slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, full of love and reassurance. "Yeah, baby," he repeats softly. "You’re glowing, and you’re absolutely, stunningly beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you, pregnant or not."

"But what if after I push the baby out, I still look pregnant? And... and I have all these marks, and my body doesn’t go back to the way it was? And you'll leave me?"

His heart aches as he listens to your fears, unable to bear hearing you doubt the body he cherishes so deeply. "No, no, no, shhh, baby, no..." he murmurs urgently, his voice soothing as he tries to calm your spiraling thoughts. "I would never, ever leave you for that. My love for you knows no limits, nothing could change that."

His hands continue to tenderly stroke your face, his touch gentle and reassuring as he speaks. "I love you so much, sweetheart. The marks on your body from carrying our beautiful child—they'll only make me love you and your body even more."

"Yeah?" you sniffle, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

his eyes filled with admiration and love as he nods "Yeah, baby. Because those marks are proof of your incredible strength, of the life you’ve nurtured for nine months.. and only an absolute goddess could manage that"

Clayton Beresford who every day remaided you how beautiful you are, what a treasure you are in his life that nothing could replace

Clayton Beresford who got more cuddly with you;

"Look at that… he’s a little boxer" his lips curved up as he felt the baby’s tiny movements beneath his fingertips. His voice was filled with awe, and there was a boyish excitement in his eyes that made you smile.

"He?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced up from your book. "How do you know it’s a boy?"

He shrugged, but the cheeky grin that spread across his features betrayed the certainty in his heart. He leaned closer, letting his chin rest on your bump. His touch was gentle, almost tingly at times while his long fingers made sure to memorize the path over your swollen skin

"Father’s instincts," he whispered

"Oh? Didn’t know you had those," you chuckled, your fingers threading through his tousled curls. There was something endearing about how intensely focused he was on your belly - his brow furrowed in concentration as he searched for more signs of the baby’s movements.

Clay still kept his, this time less wider, smile over his lips. He seemed to calm down under not only your touch but the feeling of your belly with his child right in his reach and right before his eyes. He shifted slightly, pressing his lips gently against your tummy. His lips lingered for a little longer, his expression changing to more surprised;

"Hush," he murmured softly, his hand stilling when he found the spot where the baby seemed to be resting. "I can sense him…"

Yet, the baby had quieted, and clay's lips formed into a pout. The frustration knitting his brows before he nuzzled to your belly "Can’t you encourage him to kick or something? I want to know that he’s alive…" he mumbled, his voice laced with a mix of concern and childish impatience (that you rarely saw before)

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his earnestness. "Clay, how am I supposed to encourage him? Maybe he’s sleeping."

He groaned softly, looking up at you with those soulful eyes, making it impossible not to find him utterly endearing. He looked like a grumpy child who hadn’t received the attention he thought he deserved and it was both cute and hilarious

"Well, I don’t know," he muttered, his hand still drawing small circles on your belly. "Talk to him? Tell him how cool I am… maybe he’ll be excited then and want to say hi."

You rolled your eyes playfully, still stroking his curls. "Baby, don’t be ridiculous… he's probably sleeping."

He huffed in response, still pouting but clearly knowing you were right. The baby was just asleep, and there was nothing he could do but wait. Still, the idea of his child not acknowledging his presence seemed to tug at something deep within him.

"I just want him to know that I’m here too," he mumbled

You smiled down at him, your voice soothing as you reassured him. "I bet he does, clay."

"Just imagine how cute he’s gonna be," clay mused, his voice softening as he let himself drift into the fantasy of fatherhood. "A baby version of me, running around, being a menace to everyone…"

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What if it’s a girl?"

His hand paused for a moment, the weight of the thought catching him off guard. For a few seconds, his expression was blank as he processed the idea of having a daughter. Then, slowly, his usual cocky grin reappeared, but with a touch of tenderness that hadn’t been there before.

"A baby girl," he echoed, as if trying out the words. "She could get your looks, though. I wouldn’t mind that. The second most beautiful girl in the world… and daddy’s little princess."

Just then, he felt a light flutter beneath his palm. His eyes widened in surprise, lighting up like a child on Christmas morning, the pout completely erased by a wide grin "There you are…"

The baby seemed to respond to his voice, shifting slightly as if acknowledging his father’s presence. He continued to rub gently over your belly, his touch loving and protective, showering the area with soft kisses.

"Already responding to me," he whispered, a wave of satisfaction washing over him as he felt the tiny movements beneath his hands. "Smart baby…"

clayton continued to soothe your belly, his hands and lips moving in a calming rhythm until the baby settled back into stillness. Even as the baby quieted, he wasn’t ready to let go. He lingered, enjoying the feeling of being close to both of you, his heart full and content.

"Guess he’s asleep again…" he said softly, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Or maybe he’s just tired of you," you teased lightly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.

His eyes widened in mock offense, his pout returning as he looked up at you, clearly not appreciating the joke. "Very funny," he grumbled, his frown deepening. "I am the most interesting person this baby will ever meet—"

But despite his grumbling, you could see the love and excitement in his eyes, the way he couldn’t wait to meet the little life growing inside you. And you knew, without a doubt, that he would be the best father this baby could ever ask for.

Clayton Beresford who spoiled you way more during your pregnancy. More presents without occasion, more affection, more cuddles, just more everything there was to give

Clayton Beresford who was there on most of your doctor appointments. If he had a busy schedule, which happened often, he then couldn't appear (but you didn't mind, since it was just doctor appointment to check on your and the child's health, nothing more so much important for him to be there everytime)

Clayton Beresford who was obsessed with making love to you during your pregnancy;

"youre-youre so big--" you mewl underneath him

"I am, aren't I?" he panted, his hands gripping your plump hips tightly. "And you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His words spurred him on, pushing deeper inside you to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

your eyes barely could keep themselves open from the sensation of having him again in your hole. Who would have known that your pregnancy hormones would make you so horny you would cry to Clayton about it. And him, being such a generous gentleman who loved his wife with all his being, how could just leave you like that? When you sobbed, begged for his touch

"Don't close your eyes," he commanded softly "Open them. Let me see the look on your face when I'm inside you."

your eyes reluctantly opened, at least they lingered between half opened and half closed. A moan rumbled through your throat as you took in the sight of his muscles that ripped whenever his hold grew too much

"That's it," he panted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear you." Clayton's breath hitched as he felt her body tremble beneath him. The way you moaned and your completely swollen breasts jingled with each thrust was driving him wild. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned you, picking up the pace even more.

PARENTHOOD

Clayton Beresford who was there for you for the whole childbirth. Encouraging you, giving you support, etc. He'd insist you'd hold the baby first, not him. And before he'd even hold the newborn, he'd make sure you're all safe and everything's okay;

After making sure you held the newborn first and you were all okay, he had time to take the baby close to his chest, his large, strong arms cradling the fragile newborn bundle with a tenderness that belied his powerful frame. The baby’s skin was a delicate shade of pink, still wrinkled from the birth, and Clay couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of emotion as he gazed down at the tiny life nestled against him. The baby was so small, so impossibly vulnerable, and it made something deep within him tremble and break.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he gently stroked the baby’s cheek with a trembling hand. His touch was feather-light, his fingertips barely brushing the baby’s soft, downy skin and his hand looked enormous in comparison to the baby’s minuscule features.

“He’s so small…” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His throat tightened as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Are you crying?” you asked softly, a tired smile playing on your lips as you rested after the long and exhausting delivery

He glanced up at you and he felt a single tear escape and trail down his cheek “…No—yes… maybe…” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He quickly wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, but it was clear that his composure was unraveling. He returned his gaze to the baby in his arms, his expression softening as he ran a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny hand, marveling at how delicate and perfect it was.

When the newborn's hand wrapped around clay's finger, he felt like his new heart might explode from overwhelming feeling. It was so cute, the baby’s grip firm and warm

“He’s holding my finger…” he murmured, his voice filled with pure, unfiltered awe

The baby continued to cling to his finger, his tiny hand gripping the large digit with a determination that was both heartwarming and humbling. Clay smiled through tears and a mixture of pride and amazement shined in his eyes as he gently caressed the baby’s hand, utterly mesmerized by the strength in such a small being.

“Such a tight grip… I’ve already created a little warrior,” he mused with a soft chuckle, his voice laced with pride. He looked down at his son, his heart brimming with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. “You’re going to be strong, just like your momma” he added, his tone filled with admiration.

“…You have your momma’s eyes, you know?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as a fresh wave of emotion washed over him. There was a hint of pride in his voice, but also something deeper, something reverent. The sight of those eyes, so familiar and yet so new, made him feel as though he was looking at a piece of you—a part of the woman he loved more than anything in the galaxy.

As if sensing the weight of the moment, the baby cooed softly, his tiny body wriggling uncomfortably against the confines of the blanket. You watched the first interaction between your husband and your child and it was the most endearing thing you experience. Delivery was hard, damn it hurt like hell, as if devil himself teared your insides but as soon as the baby was out, all the pain was forgotten

“You don’t like that, huh?” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he gently traced soothing circles over the baby’s cheek “I don’t blame you… I’d hate being swaddled too.”

Clayton Beresford who is the kind of dad who’s always one step ahead when it comes to the safety and well-being of your children. He’s vigilant about who they spend time with and ensures they grow up in the safest environment possible.

Clayton Beresford who, despite his often serious demeanor, has a major soft spot when it comes to his children. He’s not afraid to get down on the floor and play with them, and he’ll often indulge them in things other might not—like staying up a bit past bedtime for just one more story.

Clayton Beresford who enjoys spoiling his kids, whether it’s with the latest toys, gadgets, or extravagant birthday parties. However, he’s careful to balance this with teaching them the importance of gratitude and not taking things for granted.

Clayton Beresford who, if you have a daughter, is wrapped around her little finger. He’s the type of dad who will attend tea parties, help with ballet practice, and learn how to braid hair just to make her happy;

"Hold on, baby, I'm almost finished," he murmured, his voice a soft yet deep rumble as he focused on working his fingers through the strands of your daughter's hair.

"Maybe we should just ask Mommy," she whispered, her small voice carrying a hint of doubt.

"No, no," he shook his head gently, a determined glint in his eye. "We don’t need Mommy for a braid. Daddy can do it just fine."

Clay's fingers moved clumsily but with care, tugging her hair a bit too tightly at times. His brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully looped the strands together.

"But Mommy always likes to help," she insisted, her tone hopeful.

"Daddy likes to help too," he replied, his voice tender but resolute, wanting to prove himself to his little girl.

He paused for a moment, examining his work with a critical eye. The braid was far from perfect—slightly uneven and a little messy, held together by a hairband that seemed to be doing more of the work than the braid itself. But as he looked at it, a small, proud smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"See? Not so bad, huh?"

Clayton Beresford who is big on teaching his children responsibility from a young age.

Clayton Beresford who made sure to pay attention to your kids after he came back from work. Even if he was extremely tired, he'd rather fall asleep with your baby boy in his arms than leaving you alone to deal with the children

Clayton Beresford who found you as his inspiration. You, with kids most of the time, still having energy to take care of him and the house. So, as soon as he changed his clothes after work, he replaced you in duties so you'd have your alone time.

Clayton Beresford who, if you had a son, played all the games the boy wanted. Like toys where the boy came up with some plot, plastic cars, playgrounds outside;

Clay sat on the floor, carefully stacking blocks into a tall tower while his son sat comfortably on his lap, his tiny hands occasionally reaching out to help—or hinder.

"What do you want to eat?" you asked softly from the kitchen doorway, watching the two with a fond smile.

Clay glanced up at you, a playful gleam in his eye. "You?" he teased, genuinely curious about your preference.

But before he could say more, the boy clumsily knocked over the tower with an excited shove, sending the blocks tumbling in all directions.

“Hey! You just destroyed Daddy’s masterpiece,” Clay said in mock offense, though his voice carried a warm, playful tone. He looked down at him, who was dissolving into giggles, his face scrunched up in pure joy.

"Well, I was thinking pasta... I'm really craving it," you said, your giggles mingling with theirs.

Clay's heart swelled as he watched you enjoy the moment just as much as he was. Turning back to the toddler, he gently poked his son’s side, earning more bubbly laughter from the little boy. “We don’t normally allow such behavior in the tower-building world,” he joked, his tone still light before turning his gaze to you "But pasta sounds good tho.."

With a grin, Clay stood up from the carpeted floor, scooping the boy up by his armpits and swinging him side to side, much to the toddler’s delight. "C'mon, you little silly guy, let's go help Mommy with dinner,"

Clayton Beresford who, no matter what interests or hobbies your kids have, is fully supportive. He’ll invest in lessons, equipment, or anything else they need to pursue their passions, always encouraging them to follow their dreams.

Clayton Beresford who, no matter how busy his life gets, always prioritizes family. He ensures that you and the kids know that you’re his number one priority, making time for family dinners, vacations, and just spending quality time together.

Clayton Beresford who propritazed your time together. His kids were important but you were more important. So, regularly he hired a babysitter (a trusted one), and took you out on dates (or on a vacation but then your parents took care of the children) so you could focus on each other and on the bond you share without screaming kids

Clayton Beresford ho didn't mind making you pregnant again (if you even wanted to be pregnant again);

"Fill this beautiful cunt with my seed once more?" He growled, plunging back into you with a single powerful thrust that made you both cry out in pleasure "you want that love? Be pregnant again?"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

helloo, english is not my first language and i'm using google translate but I hope you can understand, Idk if you're still taking requests, but I have one if you do have some time. could you do one where the reader notices signs of emotional dependence and tries to help him with that? after everything Bucky has been through, it's normal to find refuge in his girlfriend but it ended up being too much. thank you, and please feel free to ignore if this is too much, i can understand 💖💖

Lean On Me » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You notice Bucky having signs of emotional dependency and you try to help him with it.

Warnings: Fluff, language, nightmares, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

You and Bucky have been close with each other since you two started dating. You and him are always loving and affectionate to each other, but now lately. You noticed something off about Bucky. At first, you thought he was just tired so you didn’t think much of it, but now you think it’s something else. Sometimes he’s clingy and sometimes he’s not. He also wasn’t as talkative as he normally is lately.

The bedroom was filled with silence. You sat on the bed, watching your boyfriend got ready for bed. You were doing more observing than watching.

“Are you ok?” You asked him, breaking the silence.

Bucky looked at you for a few seconds before nodding his head yes. He got in bed next to you and got comfortable. He always holds you when he’s in bed with you, but he didn’t this time. You assumed that he wanted some space so you gave it to him.

A few hours later, you heard mumbling and felt moving next to you. You reached over and turned the bedside lamp on and turned to face Bucky. His eyebrows were furrowed and a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead.

“Bucky…” You gently shook him. “Wake up. You’re dreaming.” You say.

Bucky’s eyes opened and he quickly sat up, breathing heavily. You put your hand on his back, rubbing his back to help him calm down. He jumped slightly at the feeling of your hand on his back and moved away. You pulled your hand away from him to give him some space.

“I’m going to get you some water, ok?” You say softly.

Bucky nodded. You got out of bed and went to the kitchen to get him some water and went back to yours and his bedroom. You handed the water bottle to him. He took it from you and drank about half of it before putting the lid back on it. You sat down on the bed in front of him. Bucky looked down to avoid your gaze. You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb against his stubble.

“Feel better now?” You asked.

Bucky didn’t say anything. He just nodded. You laid back down next to him and turned off the bedside lamp. Bucky protective wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him and fell back to sleep.

Over the next few days, you noticed that Bucky had been acting different. He was a little more clingy than usual, but also quiet. You wanted to ask him what’s wrong, but you didn’t want to upset him or make him mad. He’ll talk to you when he’s ready.

You walked in the living room and sat down next to Bucky on the couch. You expected him to wrap his arm around you and pull you closer to him like he normally does when you two are watching TV. You moved closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder.

“Doll?” Bucky speaks up after a few seconds.

“Yea, babe?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Can you move over a little please?” He asks.

“Oh, sure.” You say.

You didn’t think much of it and moved over to give him a little more space. You couldn’t help but wonder why he asked you to move over. That was the only thing on your mind for the rest of the night.

The next morning when you woke up, you rolled over to lay your arm across Bucky’s stomach, expecting him to be in bed next to you, but he wasn’t. You opened your eyes and lifted your head, pouting when Bucky wasn’t there. You rubbed your eyes and stretched before getting out of bed. You assumed he was either in the living room or kitchen so you checked those rooms, but he wasn’t there. You then realized that he was at work so you texted him before going on with your day.

You: I hope you have an amazing day at work. I love you🩵

You didn’t expect him to text you back right away, because he was most likely busy in a meeting or training for a mission.

When Bucky came home later that day, you immediately greeted him at the door. You hugged him and stood on your tippy toes to give him a kiss his lips. Bucky turned his head to the side and you ended up kissing his cheek. You frowned and looked at him.

“Are you ok, baby?” You softly asked.

“Yea, I’m fine.” Bucky says more in a mumble.

Bucky unwrapped your arms from his waist and walked to the bedroom and went in the bathroom to take a shower. You just assumed that he’s tired and wanted to take a shower. You didn’t think much of it so you went to the living room to watch TV.

A little bit later, Bucky came out of the bedroom, wearing comfortable clothes and went to the living room and sat down next to you on the couch. You moved closer to him, snuggling yourself against his side. You didn’t miss the way Bucky moved away, which made you frown again. You sat up, sitting sideways on the couch so you were facing your boyfriend.

“What’s going on with you, Bucky?” You asked. “You’ve been acting different lately.” You say.

“I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.” Bucky answers.

You could tell that there was something on his mind by the way he was talking.

“I’m your girlfriend. You can tell me anything.” You said. “Please tell me so I can help you.” You say pleadingly.

Bucky sighs and rubs his hands over his face before saying anything.

“I- it’s just- work has been hard this week is all.” He says.

You grabbed Bucky’s hand and held it. You were expecting him to pull his hand away, but he didn’t.

“Is that why you’ve been acting like this?” You asked.

Bucky held his head low and nodded his head yes.

“Oh Bucky…” You cooed softly. “All you had to do is tell me and I would’ve dropped everything to help you.” You tell him.

“I know.” He mumbles.

You put your hand under his chin and tilted his head up and turned his head so he was looking you in the eye.

“Tell me next time and I’ll help you.” You say softly.

A smile grew on Bucky’s face and he whispered an ok. You leaned forward and kissed his lips softly and sweetly.

“Now, how can I help?” You asked.

“Can we cuddle?” He asks.

“Of course we can!” You answered happily.

You laid down on your back on the couch. Bucky laid on top of you and laid his head on your chest, making sure that he didn’t crush you. One of your hands played with his hair while your other hand rubbed his back to comfort him more.

“Doll?” Bucky speaks up, lifting his head to look up at you.

“Yes, baby?” You asked, looking in his blue eyes.

“I love you.” He says softly.

“I love you too.” You say in almost a whisper.

Bucky leaned up and kissed your lips softly. He laid his head back on your chest and watched TV with you. You continued to play with his hair and rub his back to comfort him for the rest of the night.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll’s

[astropookie]

intrusive thoughts astro version

mamoru yamamoto

I’ve noticed earth mars in signs or degrees gets aroused when their sexual partner it’s having a good time, adding that’s because of them.

if asteroid rhiannon (16912) it’s about running away, what would happen if it’s on 12H. ik what about it but 😭 I can’t help it but point it out.

rhiannon (16912) conjunct mercury means escape from situations thanks to their persuasiveness

return venus conjunct natal venus -in venus return chart-: you’re finding your aesthetic/style you feel more comfortable and that vibes with your vibe 😝. also the energy of your sign/house and degree is PRESENT, that’s why during all that period of time you could feel too prideful without hesitation. mine was sag venus 11H 6° (virgo degree), i was feeling a little too optimistic or enthusiastic and cut out people. you’re being kind of truth to yourself?

natal jupiter square return pluto -in venus return chart-: you’re in a period of rebirth and thanks to your lucky nature -natal jupiter- you’re deciding not to end it. wanting it or not, you have this feeling of overcoming things.

when I used placidus system, my moon was in 1H, then I used whole sign system and my moon changed to 2H. for a while I preferred placidus bc I didn’t feel seen by the 2H moon chart. then I realized the 2H characteristics where in front of me the whole time. I wanted to feel understood, 1H moon was comforting the idea that I’m sensitive and feel emotions insanely deep. besides, 2H moon it’s about craving for comfort and security. I was only focused on the financial part, the stereotypical and superficial part. it’s a good thing to compare both charts to analyze how they can guide you.

uranus 12h in Eros persona chart shows u crave for intimacy 😭

idk why every time I end up getting stressed and bored about a friend is when I have mercury square their neptune. -reading note: she’s still my friend, we just have different point of views or forms to process information. the mercury part doubts constantly about others opinions and arguments and they see neptune as impulsive and kind of ignorant, bc their way of believing in things.

referring to the solar eclipse -April 8, 2024- my 3H has been affected -aquarius ascendant-, days after, out of nowhere -I havent had connection with them- I’ve received a voice message from the lilith person I was talking about on my posts, someone I used to be friends and distanced myself away from them. I decided to listened to it on the day of solar eclipse without thinking thinking about this coincidence -solar eclipse, 3H is affected-.

natal neptune sextile transiting venus: i felt like I was high even though I took my adhd pills 😭 I was so in peace? I felt emphatic? transits with your dominant planet have a huge effect on your mood. mine’s neptune and was sextile transiting venus.

I’ve noticed people with saturn 8H are kind of like a libra venus, in a way they’re afraid their love experience won’t be as they dreamed. saturn 8H creates restrictions on sexual attitudes and matters. imo 8H mix love and sexual desires, they need something that would drag them out of their secure space, they’re afraid. they’re late bloomers when’s about their first kiss or etc.

3H stellium at a distant, it’s giving introvert or distant vibes, they try to process things logically and could be a little slow to catch a joke?

I have a friend I thought was mean and in her energy💅, could be described as intimidated. she’s the opposite. when I saw her birth chart it made total sense, coming from an aquarius ascendant -saturn ruled like capricorn-, I had no clue she was a saturn ruled. it always surprises me how defined some rising’s energies can be presented.

sun 4H brings a sense of familiarity, even more when your mars is 4H, you feel more comfortable with them -sun 4H-, they remind you of your family or the vibes.

pisces 7H in solar return chart could tell you’re expecting a lover, doesn’t mean you’re having one 😭 i swear this solar return was like that, I meet a person and then proceed to imagine a relationship with them.

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა ∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗ */ᐠ - ˕ -マ✩ (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)∗ ࣪

♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

[bluemoonsunrise]

Demons and Savages

pairing: tsu’tey and human!avatar driver (fem presenting)

content warnings: graphic language, violence, alien vs human differences, awkward friendship?, tension, angst, vulgarity. (also, i don’t like to capitalize sentences on tumbler :3)

word count: …idk :D

pov: 2nd person so you can add yourself in. for writing/plot purposes, your character is named eris ramsey. i’ll use the name sparingly but i can’t take myself seriously writing y/n— so please just work with me here. i promise it’ll be worth it. (i hope)

< previous chapter

———🌌———

SUMMARY: earth was dying and your sister was, too, but cancer killed her faster than humans were killing earth. when she passed, she not only left behind an empty apartment full of memories but a billion dollar avatar without a driver. in a desperate attempt to not waste that money, the program she had spent the last five years preparing to join recruited you— her twin. of course, you agreed. there was nothing left on earth for you. there was nothing left on earth for anyone— that’s why people like your sister were sent off to pandora.

when your sister had spoken of pandora, it seemed like a dream.

the RDA promised it would be like a safari adventure.

truth was that pandora is beautiful. beautiful and unlike anything else across the whole of the universe. it is breathtaking— and that’s because what chases you through the forest hunts with the intent to kill; so you best run like hell even if your lungs are on fire. beasts and monsters of all kinds lurk out of sight waiting for the right moment to kill you dead— but none are as dangerous as him.

the blue shadow with the bow.

chapter two

— cowboy —

you should have linked to your avatar body sooner. the morning had nearly passed by the time you opened your eyes and stirred in your hammock. when you rose, he was waiting.

he had been waiting.

for hours.

anger made him look volatile. his tail flicked behind him as he watched you climb out from your hammock. you nearly tripped over your own feet trying to rub the daze of shifting into this larger, still-stiff body from your eyes.

“i’m sorry…” you said as you approached. you dipped your head and signed, ‘i see you’ to him. when his demeanor did not change, you swallowed around the lump in your throat. “really, i’m sorry. i don’t have much control over when i can and can’t be connected to my body.”

tsu’tey flicked his head and you knew to start marching.

he was kind enough to have saved you breakfast. dried fruits and nuts. you picked at them within the pouch he stored them in as you walked through the forest together. you offered him some as an attempt at making peace. to your surprise, he took a handful and poured them into his mouth. it was silent as you walked.

well, not for very long.

you had a bad habit of blabbering when tension arose— and you could feel the negativity radiating off him like the old story of chernobyl you knew about.

“how long have you been up for?” you asked, shooting a glance his way.

tsu’tey popped more pieces of dried fruit into his mouth and grunted. “sunrise.”

guilt made your stomach hurt.

“i really am sorry. i hope you understand that there is a strict schedule i follow. if i don’t, i risk killing myself. water? food? sleep? it’s all stuff my real body needs, too.” you said.

“i am not angry you are late, skxawng. i care not for what you do. im angry my day revolves around you. why i must be the one to teach you is not something i am happy with. i have other tasks i would rather see to. hunting. training warriors who are soon to pass their iknimaya.” tsu’tey said gruffly, not bothering to look at you.

your expression soured and you scowled at him. “you can teach me to be a warrior, too.”

“ha,” tsu’tey laughed. a real laugh. it lit up his face and made his ears perk up. he looked at you and shook his head. “you really are a skxawng.”

“eywa may have given me a sign not to shoot you down with my bow but it changes nothing. i see what you truly are, demon, even with all your practiced knowledge.”

“you are not real.”

you could only stare at him. your throat went dry. your heart shuddered in your chest. your voice was no where to be found— but what could ever be said to that?

nothing. because he was right.

“then why bother with all this?”

tsu’tey turned, stopping dead in his tracks. his tail flicked. “what?”

“why did you save me from the nantang?” you asked outright. you swallowed the fruit you had in your mouth with trouble and tried to keep your chin up. “if you know what i am, why bother saving me? you could’ve let me get torn apart. it wouldn’t have been you who killed me. no blame on you. why did you save me?”

tsu’tey let his shoulders drop. when he met your eyes, he looked at you. into you.

“eywa did not want you dead,” he said. his voice was too soft. he sounded like an entirely different person. a hopeless believer. “the atokirina landed on my arrowhead before it floated down to you. it kept me from firing that shot. it was a sign. you were to live.”

“when it floated around you, i knew what the great mother expected of me when the nantang attacked you.” tsu’tey said as he approached.

you stiffened as he stood in front of you. you had to tilt your head back to see him clearly. “and what…what is it that she expected?”

you winced when he grabbed your hand even though it didn’t hurt. not in the slightest. he touched your extra finger. he fought a scowl, his face twitching. he looked into your eyes and — for a second time — he was staring into you.

“i am to protect you…” tsu’tey muttered. he almost rolled his eyes as a heavy sigh escaped him. “it has been decided by eywa and by the tsahik. eywa is greater than my feelings. the great mother is greater than our differences. demon or not, you have been chosen for something and it is my job to make sure you don’t kill yourself, skxawng.”

“i— i’ve been chosen for something? what?” you asked, grasping his hand. you needed answers. you needed to know all that he knew.

tsu’tey pulled his hand from yours and shook it at his side as if it burned. his scowl returned with vengeance. it twisted his face in a way that was all too familiar. you almost preferred his scowl. you expected his harshness. you had no idea what to make of his gentler voice and softened features.

“i do not know.” tsu’tey said. his voice was tight in his throat. his tail flicked behind him. “i am not capable of interpreting eywa’s will. i am only a warrior.”

“and i can make you one, too, if that is what you wish to be.”

you looked up at him. your ears and tail betrayed you. your tail wouldn’t stay still and your ears stood at attention. excitement tickled your belly.

“really?” you asked, almost bracing yourself for a sudden change in his heart.

tsu’tey grunted and looked away. “it serves as a better use of my time teach you how to fight and hunt rather than help you string beads and teach you how to sing.”

“and if i choose to be a singer?” you asked, raising one of your eyebrows.

“then there are many songs for you to learn, demon,” tsu’tey said with a shake of his head. “but you will learn to ride pa’li. that is essential.”

if he hadn’t tried it so intently then maybe you would’ve missed it. perhaps more subconsciously to him, he tried to raise only one of his hairless eyebrows. it had you biting your lip as to not smile.

you nodded once, placing your hands on your hips. “let’s get started then.”

he took you to the riverbank. the sun was warm. insects buzzed by your head and skimmed across the surface of the water. fish leapt out from the river to catch them. direhorses ate the sweet vegetation that grew by the waterside.

“damn,” you whispered as tsu’tey guided one of the massive direhorses towards you. you took a step back as it stomped one of its feet when he tugged it to halt. “no saddle?”

“you have legs.” he said with a glance towards your thighs. “you will use them to hold on.”

“i don’t know if you know this, buddy, but this body has only ever been in use like four times now. i’m going to fall off.” you said.

“then you get back on.” tsu’tey said with a single flick of his head toward the direhorse.

you swallowed a bit of your pride as he grunted for you to get a move on. you had to raise your arm up high to reach its back. the leather of its skin was tough. it was a tall, powerful creature you knew would buck you off within a second.

“now, demon.” tsu’tey hissed.

“alright, alright…” you cringed a bit and tried your best to steel your spine. with you best foot forward, you tried to swing yourself up.

“bad try.” tsu’tey shook his head and nudged you out of the way. “watch how i do.”

he wrapped his arm around the tendril that hung down by the direhorses neck. with a quickness you wouldn’t be able to replicate anytime soon, he swung himself up onto the direhorses back.

you rolled your eyes. “you should’ve told me to grab that from the beginning.”

“again.” tsu’tey said as he slid down off the direhorses back. he ignored your comment. “this time, do like i did.”

you exhaled a sharp, fast breath. annoyance pinned your ears back. reaching up, you hooked an arm around one of the tendrils just as he had. with all the strength you could, you tried to pull yourself up.

that just pissed off the direhorse and it stomped it’s feet, huffing and snorting.

“you need to swing.” tsu’tey said. he tapped his stomach. “strong belly and swing your legs up. do not use your arms to pull until your belly is tight and you’ve swung your legs.”

“watch.” he nudged you out of the way.

this time, you really watched his form. you watched the way he grasped the tether as a stationary point but swung himself up. he had taken two steps to build momentum. two steps, swing up, mount.

easy enough, yeah?

“momentum. momentum.” you muttered yourself as you grasped the direhorses tether again.

you took a breath and felt it. your core tightened as you geared up to take those steps and swing yourself up. step, step, swing— except you choked. when your leg didn’t quite get up over the side, you bailed entirely and nearly fell flat on your face.

he grabbed your arm and kept you steady.

your ears fell flat as you met his eyes. you could see the scowl threaten to curl on his lips. you braced yourself for harsh words and hisses.

“better.” he said.

your ears perked up.

“swinging yourself with great force is the only way to mount pa’li. you must take larger steps to make that swing.” tsu’tey said.

you nodded. “yeah, i need more momentum.”

“momen…what?” he narrowed his eyes and titled his head.

“momentum,” you said again, clearer this time. you demonstrated the swing you needed to do with your hands. “momentum. the swing. you get it?”

“momentum.” tsu’tey said, watching your lips as your mouth formed the word. his accent was so thick it seemed to get in the way of his tongue. “yes, it is that. you just make more momentum.”

“but how? i mean, i tried doing the same amount of steps as you but it’s the height that’s throwing me off.” you said, looking up at the direhorse.

“pa’li is tall but you are tall, too. try to step, jump, swing.” tsu’tey said. he crossed his arms against his chest and watched.

you shook out the tension in your shoulders. step, jump, swing. his brows pinched together as he watched you take a few steps back. you gave yourself a running start and jumped, pushing yourself up with your arms.

his hands curled around your waist and he pulled you off before you could swing yourself on.

“hey!” you exclaimed, struggling in his grasp.

“wrong.” he placed you down and turned you toward him. “in order to ride, you must make tsaheylu. a bond. in order to make that bond, you must hold the tether. first step, you must hold the tether.”

“jumping on pa’li like that is a waste of time. it is not faster. bad habit. break it. do not do it again.” he instructed.

“alright, alright…” you said softly, holding up your hands.

“strong belly, demon.” he reminded you.

“yeah, i got it. thanks.”

you huffed under your breath as you wrapped your arm around the tether. standing back nearer towards its face, you would be able to run and swing yourself up— and that’s exactly what you tried to do. you ran, kept your core tight, swung your leg up, and mounted the direhorse.

“hey!” you gasped, pupils blown wide as you look down at him. “i did it!”

he was fighting a grin whilst stood at your side. patting the direhorses neck, he kept the beast calm. he looked up at you and nodded once. you could see in his eyes what he did not say.

well done, demon.

“again.” tsu’tey said, pulling you off the direhorse.

“woah!” you hooked your arms around his neck and fell into his arms. as he set you on your feet, you looked up at him. “you are so handsy.”

“i don’t know what that means.” he said as he let you go. his lip curled and he stared down his nose at you.

he thought you were insulting him.

“handsy. y’know, touchy.” you said. for show, you glided your hand along his chest and gripped his bicep in the other. “you touch me a lot.”

tsu’tey huffed and nudged your hands away. “if i don’t touch, you will hurt yourself. i’m making sure you do not injure yourself, skxawng.”

“skxawng. you keep calling me that. what does it mean?” you asked with annoyance lacing your voice. judging by the way he called you demon, you knew it couldn’t be good.

“means you are slow.” tsu’tey said. he flicked your forehead. “in here, you are slow.”

your eyes widened and your mouth popped open. “you’re calling me a moron!”

tsu’tey bared his teeth in a sharp smile. “you act like one.”

“you are such a jackass.” you huffed under your breath.

ignoring the way he chuckled, you once again tried to mount the direhorse. you didn’t keep your core tight enough. you stumble and it bumped you with its hip. the poor thing must’ve been annoyed with you by this point. you were annoyed with yourself— annoyed with him most of all.

on the second try, you swung yourself up onto the direhorses back. tsu’tey came to your side. he nodded at you as you met his eyes. you’d gotten the hang of it. with more practice you’d be able to do it with ease.

“now it is time for you to make tsaheylu.” he said.

tsaheylu. the bond. you knew of it. you’d read about it in grace augustine’s book before they shipped you out to pandora. it was how all living things on pandora connected to one and other. it is how all living things connected to eywa.

“take your kuru and make tsaheylu.” tsu’tey said, guiding the direhorses tether up toward you.

you reached behind your head and pulled your braid over your shoulder. queue. kuru. so many names for it. but there was only one name for the bond you were about to make.

the white spindles twisted and extended at the end of your braid. so did the direhorses at the end of its tether-like queue. as you guided your kuru forward, pinkish-white spindles linked and overlapped as you made tsaheylu.

your pupils blew and your body went rigid. you could hear mighty breath and a strong beating heart. you could feel legs that were not your own.

tsu’tey placed his hand on your thigh. you looked down at him, unaware that you were panting. he nodded once. calm. collected.

“breathe,” tsu’tey said lowly. he ran his hand across your thigh, up your waist, to your belly. “deep. slow. feel her breath and match it.”

you closed your eyes and focused on the way the direhorse inhaled and exhaled. it was much harder to do when his hand was on your belly.

his hand was warm…

in and out.

you focused on that and that alone.

breathing in deep and letting it all out.

“feel her strong legs.” tsu’tey said.

those you could feel without having to try. as she stepped back and forth, you could feel the power within them. fast. faster than horses on earth ever could’ve been. this direhorse had more legs than them. a larger set of lungs. a larger heart.

“when you are ready, think ‘run.’” tsu’tey said as he stepped back.

“run?” you repeated.

the direhorse ran— and you fell straight into the mud.

a soft groan escaped you. the whole left side of your face was mud caked. his shadow blocked out the sun and you heard him sigh.

“a mistake every first rider makes.” tsu’tey said as you pushed yourself up. “you will try again. this time, you will hold on.”

“thanks for the advice.” you huffed, hitting him with your muddy shoulder as you walked by.

mounting the direhorse became easier each time you did it— and you did it over and over again because you could not stay on the creatures back for long. you fell into the mud each and every time you willed the direhorse to run.

tsu’tey brought you to the riverbed not only because it is where the direhorses liked to graze but because the mud cushioned your falls.

“you are not holding on.” tsu’tey said as he pulled you up from the mud.

“i am!” you exclaimed. your frustration was reaching its boiling point and you pulled your arm from his grasp. “how much tighter do i have to grip the damn tethers it has?”

“you are not holding on here.” tsu’tey said, smacking your thigh.

you scowled at him and swatted at his hand. “don’t.”

“you must squeeze your legs, skxawng.” tsu’tey said with a shake of his head. “you cannot stay in place on the back of pa’li if you do not squeeze your thighs.”

“fine. fine.” you huffed and turned away. “i get it. tight core. squeeze my legs.”

“try.”

you looked back at him as he grabbed your waist. your eyes widened as he tugged you towards him. your jaw dropped as he wedged his leg in between your thighs.

“what the fuck are you doing?!” you cursed at him, pushing your arm into his chest.

“squeeze.” tsu’tey commanded.

you laughed in his face. “oh, you’re funny.”

“do as i say, skxawng.”

you had to grit your teeth. chest to chest with him, you had little options. everything he had instructed you to do so far and every correction he made had not led you astray. it bruised your pride to do as you were told.

you squeezed your thighs together, squishing his thigh between your legs. you looked anywhere but at him. he did the same as his hands framed your waist. he rocked his leg from side to side.

“pa’li are fast and they are strong. you must be strong, too, to ride. your legs will tire but falling hurts more.” tsu’tey said softly. he looked down between you both. “you must squeeze harder. i am able to move my leg back and forth without you. squeeze until you are moving as i move.”

looking down, you squeezed your thighs together tighter. you had to grit your teeth. as he moved his leg side to side, yours were glued to him. squeezing his thigh, you moved as he moved. when he dipped to the left, you had no choice but to follow. when he tried to move his thigh upward, the tension in your legs gave the right amount of resistance so that he could not throw you off.

“do you see now?” tsu’tey asked as he met your eyes. he tried to buck his thigh again and could not. not with you squeezing him so tight. “tsaheylu makes you one with pa’li in the mind. you must make yourself one with pa’li like this. strong core. strong legs. strong hips.”

“i get it,” you said softly, ignoring the burn in your face and the tickle in your belly that came with being so close to him.

tsu’tey tapped your thigh and you let him go. he took a step back and flicked his head. “try again. don’t fall this time, demon.”

you dipped your head.

mounting the direhorse, you were quick to make the bond. feel her breath. feel her heart. feel her legs. you wrapped the tethers around your arms and kept a firm grip. at the same time, you squeezed your legs tight around the direhorses sides.

“run,” you thought.

and the direhorse heard you.

with legs that sounded like thunder as they hit the ground, the direhorse ran. you kept your grip tight and your thighs clenched even tighter. gritting your teeth, you held on as the wind whipped across your face. the direhorse ran a lap around the riverbed as it had been trained to do— and you only fell off at the end when you simply could not hold on any longer.

you spit out the mud that had gotten in your mouth. pushing yourself up, you saw him grinning. a soft sigh escaped you. such sweet relief it was to see something other than a scowl after giving it the best shot you had all day.

“we are finished for today.” tsu’tey said as you neared. he picked a twig out of your hair. “you did better than i thought you would. tomorrow it will be easier. clean yourself up in the river.”

the cold river water embraced you like a lover and soothed the ache in your muscles. it washed away the mud caked onto your skin and the sweat that beaded on your hairline and dripped down your back.

you could feel his gaze linger on you as you washed.

and you ignored the way it made you feel.

— 🌌 —

the next day was by no means easier.

nor way the day after that.

or the day after that.

bruises made your blue skin purple. they littered your thighs. your arms. your back. you took the falls like a champ when they happened, but crawling in and out of your hammock each day could not be done without a groan.

until it did get easier.

you could mount your direhorse with ease. mitsia was her name. each time you made tsaheylu, the more your bond deepened. she grew accustomed to you. she did not jostle as much. she did not run so recklessly. she would greet you each morning with a bump of her nose.

you could ride longer and longer each day— and one day you stopped falling all together. leaving the riverbank behind, you rode with tsu’tey through the forest. learning to hold on as mitsia leapt over fallen logs was not as difficult as you imagined it would be. keeping your core tight and your legs secure, you moved as she moved. it became second nature.

it became second nature, too, to compete with tsu’tey as you mastered the art of riding.

“c’mon, cowboy! you’re eating my dust!” you laughed over your shoulder as the two of you raced back to home tree.

he smirked.

racing through the forest, you stole glances at each other as the direhorses below you ran. mitsia and karuk — tsu’tey’s pa’li — had grown accustomed to each other, too. like their riders, they competed to get home first. mitsia’s heart pounded and her breath came hard as fast as she tried to out run karuk.

the male direhorse was older and his legs were longer. when tsu’tey crouched and tucked himself downward to be more aerodynamic, the race was already won.

“i will beat you tomorrow, jackass.” you said as you swung yourself off mitsia. you gave her a gentle pat before joining beside tsu’tey.

“no, not tomorrow. we are finished training with pa’li. you have mastered riding.” tsu’tey said with a glance your way. as you walked inside home tree, the smell of pandoran barbecue made your stomach grumble.

“what’s next then?” you asked.

“you have yet to decide if being a hunter is what you want. tomorrow, you rest and decide.” tsu’tey said.

you watched as he departed. instead of heading up the center column, he made his way towards the olo’eyktan. he bowed his head and signed ‘i see you’ before sitting down beside him. you knew what they were discussing. each day, tsu’tey gave a report about how you were fairing to the olo’eyktan.

you cleaned yourself up before dinner. re-doing some of the braids in your hair, you thought about what tsu’tey had said.

you had yet to decide on what you truly want to be.

you knew you didn’t want to be a singer. you didn’t have the confidence it took to preform. you enjoyed riding and you enjoyed being in the forest, but you didn’t know if you had what it took to be a powerful hunter.

on earth, you hadn’t done more than wait on costumers and clean up messes that they left behind. hunters didn’t scrape gum off the undersides of tables or have to clean matted grease off deep fryers. they were masters with a bow and quick with a knife.

each day that you went to bed and woke up back in the link-pod, you felt less and less uncertain.

uncertain about what you wanted.

uncertain about who you were.

surrounded by scientists, you were not as smart as them. you could help grace log her findings but you couldn’t offer anything more than clicking buttons on the computer. you weren’t fluent in navi like norm. you weren’t as physically capable as jake was when he was in his avatar body.

jake was military.

norm was a scholar.

grace was a scientist.

you were just the replacement for a dead genius.

a blank slate.

that thought stuck with you like a nagging itch as you climbed the center column of home tree and made your way to your usual eating spot. the more you tried to ignore it, the worse it became.

you were a blank slate in a world ripe with opportunity and that had to mean something.

you had few skills.

that meant you could learn hundreds of new ones.

you had poor navi.

that gave you room to improve with those who spoke it fluently and hadn’t learned it out of a book.

you had no muscle.

that meant you could only grow stronger.

in a program full of bright minds and strong spirits, only one of you sat in home tree— and only one of you had been chosen by eywa.

it had not been grace.

It had not been norm.

it had not been jake.

it had been you. you had a purpose on pandora. a purpose that surpassed what you knew about tree roots or how many pull-ups you could do.

if you wanted to be a hunter— you would learn.

and he would each you how. just like he taught you to ride a direhorse in nine days.

“what is it that you had called me today, demon?” tsu’tey asked as he sat across from you. “when we raced through the forest.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “a cowboy.”

“cowboy…” he picked up a bug from the pile on his leaf and cracked the shell with his teeth. he pulled out the soft meaty inside and ate it. “what does that mean? cowboy.”

“a cowboy is a man who rides a horse and deals with herding animals. they wear hats and boots. on earth, cowboys were seen most in the western part of america.” you said as you picked at the food. you hadn’t gotten used to bugs yet. it was their many, many legs that creeped you out.

when he didn’t respond right away, you looked up. it was clear to see that most — if not all — of what you said had been lost to his ears. again, you smiled.

“on earth, cowboys rode pa’li. they were like hunters, except they kept the animals close together in herds. in a big group that they would move from place to place.” you said, choosing your words more carefully.

“they were also like warriors, too. the word is vigilante. it means that they took the law into their own hands and punished those who broke it.”

“is there no olo’eyktan to answer to?” tsu’tey asked, his invisible brows knitting together.

“no,” you said with a small laugh. carefully, you bit into a bug and chewed. it didn’t taste bad. it was good. smoky in flavor— but the legs still gave you the heebie-jeebies. “on earth, instead of clans there are countries. millions and millions of people live in a single country alone. and there are hundreds of countries.”

“millions of people…” tsu’tey looked around the crowded dinner place and then back at you. “and that is more than navi here in home tree?”

“so many more. unimaginable.” you said with a shake of your head. you popped the shell of another bug and tried to explain it as easy to understand as you could. “let’s use you as an example. you know everyone in your clan, yes?”

“yes.” he nodded.

“right. in a country on earth, you’d never be able to meet every person who lives in that country. there are too many people. it would be like if all the clans from sea to sea across the land we’re on now were one clan.” you tried to explain.

to your delight, he seemed to understand. his eyes were wider than they usually were. he let out a soft breath and shook his head, “and these cowboys…were there a lot of them?”

“in the past, yes. where i lived and in the time i lived, no. there aren’t enough animals on earth for cowboys to be useful. there are no more great plaines, either. no horses to ride. it’s all metal and machines.” you said with a small frown.

“is there no great mother on earth, too?” tsu’tey asked.

you shrugged. “if there was one then she died long before i was born.”

tsu’tey frowned. you could see the sympathy he held for you. his face was so expressive for someone so rough around the edges.

“how did you come here?” tsu’tey asked. the question was careful. it was as if he presented it to you in the palms of his hands and braced himself for rejection.

that was exactly what you gave him.

“i want to be a hunter.” you said outright. you pushed aside your leaf still full of food. you were no longer hungry. as you met his eyes, you nodded once. “i want to be a warrior like you and i want you to teach me.”

tsu’tey sat back. he narrowed his eyes at you and took in the whole of you. his eyes trailed from your head to your crossed legs. the bruises that decorated your body had yet to fade. being a hunter was a lot harder than being a direhorse rider. being a warrior was more dangerous than both.

“tomorrow you shall rest. that is decided. it is needed. the day after, i will teach you how to use a bow.” tsu’tey said.

heat rose to your face and your tail swayed wildly behind you. so wildly that you reached back to grab it. he hadn’t said no. he hadn’t laughed. he hadn’t called you a moron.

he would teach you.

he would mold you into a fierce warrior and a bountiful hunter because no student was better to teach than one who was a blank canvas.

“why do you look like that?” tsu’tey asked with a small scowl.

“huh? uh…” you were quick to let go of your tail. your ears pinned and you looked anywhere but at him. “i don’t know…i think im just surprised that you’re agreeing to let me become what you are. a warrior. a hunter. i figured you would’ve told me to start warming up my singing voice.”

tsu’tey laughed. a low, grunt-like laugh came out of his nose. as he picked apart a green-shelled bug, he smiled. “i told you once before, skxawng. if you want to be a hunter, i will make you a hunter. i don’t like singing. i would dislike you more if you had chosen to sing over shoot a bow.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “right…”

“you learn fast.” tsu’tey said without looking at you, “you are determined, too. you proved me wrong when you got back on mitsia after you kept falling off. i thought you would quit.”

“my only doubt left of you is that your body will give out on you.” he met your eyes and shook his head. “you are not true navi. it will be a very great test of your strength, demon, but if you are willing then i will teach you.”

“i am.” you said with a slow nod of your head. you looked into his eyes and kept your chin up. “i made my choice. i want to learn all that you know.”

tsu’tey seemed to savor your words. more than that, he savored the look in your eyes. he saw into you. he saw your resolve. it was as hard as steel.

on earth, you had been nothing.

on pandora, you would be exceptional.

“it is decided then.” tsu’tey said.

you smiled to yourself. you couldn’t help it. looking above, you took in as much detail of home tree as you could but there was only one picture in your mind.

his face.

over the last nine days, you had done well to keep up with him. so much so that you refused to quit even when you took a particularly bad fall off mitsia. you couldn’t let him know that it hurt. pride kept you stubborn— but the desire to see him proud burned hotter and hotter each time you tried.

tsu’tey was a good teacher. he was handsy and harsh, but he was the only person capable of teaching you. he could handle your stubbornness as well as you could handle his. while he scolded you and smacked you on the back of the head when you would do incredibly stupid and dangerous things, he was quick to congratulate and reward you, too.

not all his edges were rough.

most. but not all.

“here,” tsu’tey said. he tossed you a pouch as you climbed down into your hammock.

“what is this?” you asked.

sitting on your knees, you opened the pouch. dumping it into your hand, a palm-size carving of a direhorses fell out.

it was mitsia.

when you looked up to thank him, he was gone. the flap to his hanging hut closed as he disappeared inside.

you bit back a smile as you laid down in your hammock. holding up the carving, you admired the craftsmanship. for the last three days, you would wake to him sitting on the branch beside your hammock. he had been whittling something. wood chips would be piled beside him. he would be quick to tuck away his work and sheath his knife as you awoke.

in the morning hours you were not here, he carved as he watched you sleep without dreaming.

you kept the carving of your direhorse close to your chest as you laid back. closing you eyes, you wished to dream. in this body, you wanted to dream of thundering hooves and tsutey’s sharp smile.

the whirr of the link-pod greeted you. the hatch opened and the bright, white lights of the lab made your eyes burn. home tree at this hour was dark and quiet. the avatar lab was always busy. pushing yourself out of the pod, you rolled out the stiffness in your shoulders.

“long day again, huh?” norm turned in his chair as you passed by. he was studying slides under one of the microscopes. “what did he have you doing this time?”

“hey, no talking until after she logs.” grace said without bothering to look away from the computer she typed at. “detail the day while it’s fresh in your mind.”

“yeah, yeah…” you mumbled as you made your way over to a chair in the corner.

the blinking red light told you the tiny camera was recording you. that and the fact that you could see your face displayed on the screen as the time ticked by. you gave your name, your badge number, and the date before detailing the events of today. you hated logging. you hated sitting at that desk and recalling everything you’d done.

you hated it because it made you miss him.

the feeling was new to you. it crept up on you like a cold. each hour spent outside of your avatar had you growing sicker and sicker with the feeling.

the feeling of longing that came with wanting to be in home tree. wanting to wake up— really wake up in your hammock. being up early enough to eat breakfast with the clan.

with him.

you liked to argue with him. you could see the slight smile on your lips each time you spoke about him in your video logs. you hated that you smiled— but you couldn’t help it. apart from jake, tsu’tey was the only person you felt you had any kind of rapport with. he could be mean and calloused— but he was also the only person on this giant blue moon who spent any meaningful time with you.

jake kept you company at breakfast and dinner. he played card games with you before bed. he was easy to talk about human life to. you expressed your grief to him— as hard as it was — because he understood. he lost his brother like you had lost your sister. he, too, felt like an imposter in the avatar labs.

the bond you two shared was solid.

he could make you smile. he could make you laugh. he could make you cry. he could make you feel as though you did belong here in the RDA. he was a comforting presence that you hadn’t known you needed after the death of your sister had left a hole in your heart.

jake didn’t fill the hole— but he did a damn good job of making it hurt less.

tsu’tey was not your friend.

unlike jake, tsu’tey refused to be labeled as such— and yet he acted like one. he was a strict teacher. that much could not be denied. he worked you to the point of bruises…but at the same time, he consoled every hurt. he checked every bump. he tended to every scratch.

he may not have known you like jake knew you, but he spent the most time with you. he spent hours and hours alongside you. his days started and ended with you. teaching you. correcting you. yelling at you. bickering with you. teasing you. smiling at you.

jake knew your story.

he knew your heartache.

he knew your fears.

tsu’tey knew your hopes.

he knew your strength.

he knew your hunger for life.

in so many ways you couldn’t quite put into words, tsu’tey was the only one to know you. what you were. what you were capable of. what drove you. what focused you. what lit a fire under your ass. what strength you had in your heart.

on earth, you had been nothing. just another person on a dying planet. you had no plans because there were no plans to have. you had no money. not enough to be comfortable. not enough to find happiness. you had no family. sickness and poverty had withered them all away. with the death of your sister, you may as well have died, too.

on pandora, you had the chance to be anything you wanted to be. a warrior. a hunter. a singer. a scientist. a gardener. a solider. there were so many things you could be— yet you hardly knew who you were.

each day you got into that link-pod, it was a constant battle of which one was real.

which you was real?

you knew the version of you that could no longer exist. the girl from earth had died when her sister passed— and whoever emerged from the smog keeping you wilted was new. she was a stranger to everyone around her.

including you.

which is why you chose to be strong. if you could be anything on pandora, you would be strong. you would be brave. you would be kind.

who you chose to be was a mirror of the first person to look into your eyes and see you.

tsu’tey knew you better than anyone in this lab ever could because he watched you find yourself more and more within the forests of pandora.

you liked the sun. it felt good on your skin. you liked to swim in the river. it felt good to be weightless. you liked to ride and you liked to run. you liked to laugh. you liked to learn. you liked to try and try again when you failed.

while the avatar drivers you had been separated from on your first ground excursion worked on understanding the forest around them on a cellular, scientific level— you worked on understanding the forest on a personal level.

you scraped your knees on the forest floor. you climbed the towering trees. you formed tsaheylu with pa’li. you had been blessed by the atokirina.

grace saw the forest through the lens of a microscope while you saw the forest through his eyes.

“tsu’tey told me as we rode today that all energy is only borrowed. it is through that energy gifted by eywa that we are blessed to live long, fulfilling lives. when we die, we return that energy to her.” you said, rubbing your hand along your jaw. “i wonder if that applies to us demons…”

you smiled at the camera. “well, that’s about all. the same old same old. horses and riding. riding and horses. tsu’tey said that tomorrow is my rest day. i wonder what kind of trouble i’ll get myself into on a day like that.”

when the red light turned off, you sighed. rubbing your face, all you wanted was to go to bed but you couldn’t. you needed to eat and drink something. even though you had such recent memories of eating dinner in home tree that tricked your mind into thinking you were full— your stomach growled and gnawed at itself.

“hey, hot-shot.” you said as you sat down in the mess hall beside jake. he was already halfway done with his dinner.

“hey there, forest girl.” jake said with a grin. “you’re back pretty late again. get thrown off your horse at all today?”

“nah. i’ve got that horse-riding shit on lock down.” you said as you took a bite of your dinner. the food tasted weird. it always did. you tried your best to ignore it. “how was your day?”

“boring. all i do is stand around while grace and norm scurry around the woods together and put dirt into jars. i dunno how tommy found any of this shit interesting. i mean, pandora is awesome but the science work i see grace and norm do is like watching paint dry.” jake said with a sigh.

you laughed and frowned at him. “i wish you could come to home tree and spend a day with me and tsu’tey. i don’t think he’d like you very much, but at least it would be something for you to do. it would be like basic training but navi style.”

“i wish i could, too. im jealous that you get to spend your days running around in the woods while im stuck with the know-it-all’s. but i live vicariously through you in your stories.”

“is it fun?” jake asked. he smiled. “yknow, riding those big ass horses?”

you smiled, too. “so much fun. you’d love it. you’d be good at it. i bet you’d master it faster than me.”

jake offered to stay with you while you finished your dinner even though he’d finished first. you enjoyed his company. sitting together, you talked mindlessly about hobbies the two of you had. on earth, jake had liked to go to bars and gamble while you had liked to come home from work and rot in front of the tv. no matter what was on, you would watch it. any show. any movie. it didn’t matter what it was because all it was was an escape from the shithole you lived in and the dying world outside your window.

“excuse me, miss ramsey?”

you looked over your shoulder as your name was called. a solider dressed in camo stood with his arms behind his back.

“yeah?” you asked, raising one of your eyebrows.

“if you could follow me please, colonel quaritch wants to speak with you.”

you met jake’s eyes in time to see his brows raise. with a small flick of his head, he silently told you to get going. you got up form where you were sitting, cleared away your mess, and followed behind the solider. as you walked, you saw the corporal insignia on his uniform.

“in here.” the corporal said, pushing open a set of double doors. “sit tight. he’ll be here shortly.”

the doors shut with an eery silence as the corporal left you alone. you’d been in this room once before. on your first day at hell’s gate, you’d been brought here and given a briefing. the lights were off. only moonlight spilled in through the massive windows. slowly, you took a seat on one of the cold metal chair.

minutes ticked by in silence.

it was so silent that it was deafening. it was the kind of quiet that was loud. you could hear every little sound. your breath. muffled footsteps from the floor above. faint grumbling from machines outside.

you knew what this was.

you had seen enough old detective movies to know that you were put in a room by yourself to induce worry. worry led to overthinking. overthinking led to over-talking. over-talking made it hard to lie.

the doors swinging open made you jump.

“sorry to make you wait,” colonel miles quaritch said as he strode into the room. “the dangers on this god forsaken planet never seem to cease.”

you nodded as he approached. he turned a chair around and sat backwards on it beside you. he smelled of gun powder and alcohol. it burned your nose. the scar on his face had made you uneasy from the moment you saw him for the first time. you wonder what did it. nantang? palulukan? something worse?

“i read your file, miss ramsey.” the colonel said as he folded his hands against the back of his chair. “im sorry to hear about your sister’s passing.”

“thank you.” you said softly. too softly.

“what luck the avatar program has in seeming to recruit scientists who have twins, huh? you and corporal sully are two miracles for this place. without you two, the RDA would’ve lost more billions than they could afford to make back.”

unsure of what to say, you tried your best to smile. as the colonel looked into your eyes, you found it hard to keep that smile. there was something about him that made you feel small. his eye were empty. they were cold. you felt like a rabbit who’d caught the attention of a wolf.

“i watched a couple of your video logs. you got separated from your team and you’ve been taken in by the natives, yes?” the colonel asked.

you nodded once. “yes…”

“as head of security, it’s my job to make sure my people are safe. you’re one of my people, miss ramsey, which means that avatar body you control is, too. to be honest with you, i’d say you’re now one of the most essential people in this hell hole.”

“i have a job for you, missy. i want you to gather intel about the natives for me and record it in your video logs. find out how they operate. find out what it would take to make peace with them.”

your stomach sank.

peace was still being sought.

you were so wrapped up in day to day life in home tree that you forgot that the relationship between the navi and the RDA was unfriendly in every sense of the world.

it made you feel queasy to remember your first night in the forest. sweat pooled in your palms as you recalled seeing him for the first time. those glowing eyes. that bow half-drawn, aiming for your chest.

tsu’tey had every intention of killing you.

and he would’ve if eywa hadn’t stopped him.

the colonel leaned in and asked in a low voice, “do you think you can do that for me?”

“yes, sir.” you whispered. slowly, you nodded. the only thing you could do was nod. “of course.”

“that’s good.” the colonel said with a smile. he tapped his hands on the metal of his chair as his smile grew and grew. “that’s real good, miss ramsey. you’re going to be a great deal of help to me and you’ll be making the lives of everyone here all the safer. besides, it’ll be easier to answer to me than it is to answer to dr. augustine.”

you smiled, too. you forced your lips to show your teeth and you dipped your head. “ah, she’s not so bad…but i will say i’m more keen on tactical work than computers.”

“i like to hear that.” the colonel said. “have you given any thought to enlisting? it could benefit you a lot here in hell’s gate.”

“truthfully, no. i’m not really sure what role it is i play here and i’m not too sure if i’ll pick one at all. i’m here to fill my sisters shoes in any way that i can. right now, it seems my job is to keep learning.” you said.

the colonel seemed to roll your words between the tips of his fingers. “knowledge is power— and i need all the knowledge i can get my hands on. study the natives as close as they’ve been studying you and in time, you won’t need to fill any shoes that aren’t your own.”

“your sister may have been selected to aide dr. augustine in her studies so that she can write a second book that no one will bother to read— but you? you’ve been chosen by me to ensure the security of the men and women on this base. to me, that is far more important than what you can see under a microscope.” the colonel said.

“i understand, sir.” you said with another dip of your head. “i’ll make sure to detail my findings in my logs.”

“good.” the colonel said as he stood. “you have a good rest of your night, miss ramsey. we will be in touch.”

as he walked passed you, your heart returned to its place in your chest and not lodged up into the back of your throat. you uncurled your hands from fists and rubbed them up and down your thighs to wipe away the sweat. you felt as though you could breathe.

“oh and miss ramsey?”

“yes?” you asked, turning your head.

the colonel stopped by the door and said, “make sure not to tell any of your scientist friends about this little arrangement. grace augustine gets very unhappy knowing i’ve stuck my nose into her program.”

“sure,” you said softly. “no problem.”

the colonel left without another word.

you nearly crumbled into a pile of ashes. curling over the table, you rested your face against the cold metal. your heart was racing in your chest. it was hard to breathe around the pressure on your shoulders and the tightness in your throat.

what the hell are you doing, you idiot?

you had no answer for yourself.

covering your head with your arms, anxiety burned your belly. it put a sour taste in your mouth.

you were now on the colonels radar.

he expected information out of you. he expected answers— unlike grace who expected results.

in bed, you could hardly sleep. tossing and turning, you couldn’t lay still. it felt like there were ants in your sheets. each time you felt comfortable, tsu’tey scowl flashed in your mind.

what you were going to do was wrong.

you knew in the core of your being that spying on the clan and handing over your findings to the RDA was wrong.

but what choice did you have?

you had chosen to be a warrior— and yet you had been chosen to be a spy.

you buried your face into your pillow and tried your best to ignore the way shame made you feel.

it brought you shame to know that each time you’d log the events of the day, miles quaritch would watch your recordings and use them to his advantage. and the worst part was that you couldn’t just spew bullshit. you had been tasked with learning how they operated. learning how they functioned not just as a people but as a united force. if you didn’t make the right reports with the right kind of information, what would happen to you?

you had no idea.

you did know, though, that you’d never be allowed to touch a link-pod again.

the avatar body you’d grown to love would lay a husk until it died. you’d be ripped from the forest like a weed out of the ground. you’d never be able to feel mitsia’s heart. you’d never be able to sit in home tree and listen to the people sing.

you’d never get to see tsu’tey again.

he tolerated you because you looked like him. blue, tall, and freckled with bioluminescence, your avatar did it’s job of seeming normal enough to even the mightiest warrior. even if he’d never admit it, over the last nine days you had become familiar. he wasn’t very fond of you and he was definitely not your friend— but at the very least, you were familiar to him.

he would shoot you dead if he saw you standing before him as the alien you truly were.

that was something you couldn’t risk.

your admiration for him and your hunger to learn from him was not something you could let slip away— so you would do what the colonel asked of you.

in order to run through the forest and bicker with him, you’d do as miles quaritch asked. and you would do so carefully. cautiously. as gently as you could— because you did not want was to lose the freedom you’d been given. you didn’t want to lose the life you had just begun to lead. you didn’t want to be trapped inside metal walls and crowded by machines and pollution any longer.

and the last thing you ever wanted to do was hurt him.

eywa had given tsu’tey a sign protect you. when the atokirina landed on his bow, it had been a duty gifted to him. he protected you from the nantang— from himself. and he would continue to protect you from anything that tried to harm you.

tsu’tey had given you a purpose. when he carried you to home tree and took on the burden of becoming your teacher, he’d given you a second chance at life.

it was now your turn to protect him.

from the RDA.

from the colonel.

and maybe even from yourself.

thanks for reading :)

next chapter >

[jinkiezzsstuff]

TYSM FOR THE LADY GAGA FIC!!!!

I have another song fic request...

Alastor (or anyone else really lmao) has to find reader in order to patch up like a deal or smth idk and he finds them in this jazz club thing performing on the stage to 'Noel's lament' from 'ride the cyclone'? Like she's draped across a piano singing abt when she was living she was nobody but in her dreams she was this absolute femme fatale and alastor just watches her from the back of the crowd??

So niche but I was thinking abt it all night

Lots of love 🤍

i actually loveeee this song eeeee i’m so happy to do this, and i am so glad you liked the last one it means so much to me teehee sorry this took awhile i’ve been busier lately but i hope you enjoyed this, maybe i’ll do a part two but if i do it may be real delayed until i clear my plate lol!

song referenced; noel’s lament

warnings: implied to be succubus reader but their not really to standards of succubus, i don’t believe there are feminine pronouns here but there are certain feminine things (dress wearing, feminine terms like suductresd etc), no psychical descriptions of reader as per usual, minor gore and death, reader is sneaky and slipper, alastor is weird about love as he should king, but he still feels emotion, possible cringe parts idk it’s a songfic and sometimes they can be 50/50. LMK if i missed any!

word count: 2.7K

You had a debt to pay, you had to have known this. Alastors mind reeled as he toyed with the pen in his hand, occasionally scribbling nonsense down as he thought. You were always quite the slippery sinner, never being tied down to one place in the pentagram, but this was just ridiculous. Since he’d been back, and warmed up to the hotel, he’d been searching for you, but no sign. No demon has said a word about you either had he still been in touch with Vox he may have had you found by now.

You weren’t dead, and that’s as much as he knew; he would’ve felt your souls absence if you’d died, the fickle fun of making such contracts. There was little he knew about you personally, he new superficial things but nothing that would give him a clue on where you’d hide, a silly mistake on his part. He knew Mimzy would be were the cash or party was, Husk wherever there was a gamble and Nifty, well, normally she never strayed far anyways. As for other souls they were about the same in simplicity, whether they were murderous or cannibals they always had something keen to them that would lead him to where they were.

Alastor failed that with you, unfortunately he’d found himself a little at loss with you, in more ways than one you boggled his mind. He was used to women and men alike hitting on him or being incredibly provocative, but there was some way you did it that made him speechless. Not like when Angel would hit on him, where Alastor felt that sensation of being caught off guard with disgust and shock. No, on the night you made the deal, you were stalking around the back of his sofa inside his radio tower, your hands caressing his shoulders as you passed, sweetly and mischievously offering a pleasurable favour in return for his help. That was something else, that was unique to you.

He still recalls the memory as if he was still right there on the couch, engulfed in your scent, entranced by your siren-like voice, it made him hot under the collar and tight around the waist. Thankfully Alastor was a gentleman and a businessman and there was no way you were getting out of a soul contract through some silly sexual favours. It was definitely trying to keep his composure as your lidded eyes watched his lips move, but he managed as he always does. The deal was fairly boring on your part- you wanted to be his friend.

Red flags appeared in Alastors mind about the validity of that but shook on it nonetheless, however that was all before he disappeared. He’d not held up his end of the bargain but then again neither did you; you didn’t show when he called on you to the hotel and try as he may, couldn’t seem to summon you the way he could with Husk.

Dropping the pen, Alastor stood from his seat and shadowed into the floor, stalking out the window like a snake. Alastor decided a little stroll couldn’t hurt, after all his mind couldn’t rest and perhaps he could happen upon you out in sin city. Alastor enjoyed his time walking, humming and basking in all the horrors that happened around, however he grew bored fairly quickly, and decided to take a detour into Mimzy’s favourite joint.

Alastor walked in like he owned the place and seated himself at the bar waiting for his dear friend. “Mimzy dear, how’ve you been?” Alastor spoke out excitedly and loudly, catching the attention of his fellow demon who had appeared from the back of the bar. Mimzy squeaked and ran up to Alastor on the other side of the bar, shooing off the other demons trying to pull at her, the trim of her dress flying in all directions as she hopped and scuttled. “Alastor! What brings ya here, big man? Coming for a dance?” His smile was indifferent as she spoke but he was quite pleased to see the doll, someone of routine. He watched the demon plop herself down on the seat beside him, his hand fiddling with the whisky in his cup that he magicked up. “Yes dear, afraid I have quite the slippery soul in my hands.”

With both elbows on the table Mimzy leaned in, an excited smile on her face. Alastors head fell to the side, sighing at her desire for gossip, Alastor pushed up his monocle and explained the situation with you briefly. He probably went into too many details about how you looked, or smelt, or perhaps how he thought of you in his absence because the whole time Mimzy was coy and giggles. “Wow Al, sounds like you’re carryin’ a torch for this gal’,” Mimzy teased, walking her fingers across the table in his direction. Alastor stiffened at that watching her do her silly tease wide eyed. What a juvenile thing to assume, that he had feelings for some sinner. “Mimzy, don't be ridiculous!” Alastor scoffed grin still present as he threw his limp hand her way, head tossed back. “There’s no such thing! Besides she’s nothing more than some sensuous succubus, it’s what those types of demons do. Seduce.”

Crossing her arms Mimzy let out a flat ‘mhm’ clearly not convinced by what was being said. “Well Al, tell ya what! You have my back next time some nasty loan sharks come, and i’ll tell ya where your pretty seductress is.” Alastors nails tapped against the table rhythmically as he silently pondered, it’s not like he’d say no to her, just as she wouldn’t say no to him. Fixing his posture from his more lesuride position, he agreed with a nod, gulping back the last of his liquor.

-

This club Alastor stepped into was very reminiscent of a wealthy man’s speakeasy, something that was nestled safely in the depth of the pentagram in an unassuming alley, as if it were hiding from something or someone. It was nostalgic for him, in a sickening way, Alastor didn’t enjoy remembering mortal life as it seemed so detached from him and who he is now. His red eyes danced across the room manically, his static following in suit with every glance he gave. Searching for his little succubus. Low amber lighting, that stuffy smell of smoke in the air, the velvet chairs, surrounding chatter and the piano playing smooth jazz; Alastors body subconsciously relaxed into the familiar environment, as much as he hated his mortal life there were such aspects like this he missed.

He dragged himself inside and sat in a red velvet chair, immediately he slumped onto the table, his elbows on the table, his chin rested on his hand while the other toyed with the fire from the candle, bringing it up, around, and high and low. His eyes dragged over to the stage as the piano rifted into a new tune, the lights in the room dimming and brightening toward the stage. Inwardly, Alastors frustrations imploded making his skin hot and his antlers grow in size; all the light to see you with now focused on the stage for a performance he couldn’t care less about.

Standing to his feet, Alastor gripped his microphone like it was his life line. With a strained smile he began towards the door as the music began, and a voice started introducing themselves and talking about their dreams, however he was too busy being frustrated, and scanning the room for you to fully pay attention to the voice. That was until- “A hooker with a heart of black charcoal.” A breathy voice finally sang out, grabbing the attention of Alastor as he neared the exit. Freezing the static sounds of radio station channels sounded out from him, his eyes widening at the sound of you.

Turning abruptly on his heel, he looked over the crowd of seated heads and at the stage where you were walking on. There was a light focused down on you as you slunk out from behind a curtain furthest from the piano. Straightening his back, Alastor slipped into the shadows and behind a pillar near the bar, just to wait for you of course, to come off. “I write poems to burn by fire light, drink champagne and guzzle gin, good girls call me ‘The Town Bicycle’- don't knock it til you’ve tried my life of sin,” Alastor watched enchanted as you dragged your heels across the stage as you sung, making your way over the piano with seductive grace, something Alastor wasn’t used to being so hooked by.

“Oh, Claude, my pimp knows neva mess with me,” Your voice, once serene and beautiful now, was demonic and harsh, capturing the audience's attention. “Last prick did that faded quick to black,” Like a switch your voice returned to its sweetness, your arms outstretched just slightly, fingers twinkling to emphasise the ‘fade’ you sang of. Alastor couldn’t look away from how you manuerved your body, how your voice carried through the room, and how the lights sparkled against your jewellery. You were a sight for sore eyes as you teasingly brought yourself closer to the piano, that regular soft bedroom look in your eyes. “I have no idea where to find him officers,”

Alastors brow quirked at that, as your hands came up to cup your face with false naïveté. “But if you do, please mention that I’d like to have returned that pretty knife, that I stuck, ten. times. in his, back!” You grit out, sweet façade falling once more making Alastors tail wag, unbeknownst to him. There was something about the way you pulled and pushed the narrative in the song that made him antsy, excited even, and the fact that this was something you stated you dreamed to be, meaning whilst alive you dreamt of killing, of being bad, oh that made Alastors blood rush.. You waltzed around as you continued to sing the lyrics to the chores, Alastors eyes watched closely as you slithered your body effortlessly up onto the piano.

It was like you were made for performing, singing, and he had the brief fantasy of you in his studio singing on air, sat on his lap as you sung through his microphone for the folks of hell to hear, but he pulled himself out of it quickly, scolding himself for indulging in silliness. Now your body was draped across the obsidian piano that shone the reflections of the light, you sat on your hips, legs folded behind you, hands over your heart. “He said ‘I think I am in love with you’- I’ve heard that lie a million times before,” Your posture fell slightly as did your tone, it seemed that there was some truth and sombre in the lyrics you sang, and in a way Alastor felt like he could relate to that; after all what even was love?

It made him feel weak to pity you, to attempt to empathise with your pain, but there was barely any time to think about his thoughts because just as he did, you’d recapture his attention entirely. “Oh, tonight I give into the fantasy,” Your head fell back, sorrow in your tone as your hand caressed your shoulder, pulling down the strap of your dress. “Take love when you can, when you’re a whore.” After a silent moment the chorus picked up, as did you, sliding yourself off the piano and dancing around with a smile. Unfortunately Alastors mind lagged behind, something was just too vulnerable in the way you sang about love, and considering it wasn’t something he often thought about, it peaked his curiosity just slightly.

It wasn’t until the end of the performance when you sung about your death that Alastors attention zeroed back in on you, his eyes catching yours as the song fell out, your head turned in his direction. He watched as your eyes widened and mouth fell slightly ajar before you sang out one last word: a ‘hey’ coincidentally directed toward Alastor. After that the lights on stage shut off instantly, and the crowd applause began.

Alastor watched you be dragged off stage by two larger demons through the darkness, your legs flailing as your arms were restrained, at the sight the purpose of him being here returned. Pushing himself off the pillar he was leant against, he brushed himself off and straightened the crimps in his pants, before picking up his microphone and making his way towards where you’d been dragged. It was a cruddy little backstage area, he’s under the assumption the performers here weren’t treated as kindly as the guests. Throwing the door open he was greeted by the sight of you, the two demons who dragged you off, and some other third one.

You sat on an ottoman in the middle of the room, your entire essence changed as you curled into yourself, your head hung low. Humming, Alastor adjusted his monocle. “Am I interrupting something?” Oh how Alastor loved to play dumb, he watched the third demon, seemingly imp, stand straight anger evident and radiating off of him. “Yeah you really fuckin are red, get outta here now.” The imp barked throwing his hands up in a shooing motion. Your eyes met Alastors, begging silently to stay. “I’m afraid i can’t do that you silly lug,” Alastor tutted joyfully stepping into the room throwing his microphone around like it was a toy. His shadows crawled out from beneath his feet, sneaking up the walls and across the ceilings making the three men anxious. “This little canary happens to me mine, soul and all.” His voice shifted to a more demonic one as the hues in the room shifted.

You sat speechless, watching the mysterious deer defend you after seven long years of being on hold with him. You were surprised he came at such a time, convenient for you. The two muscle demons were quick to puff their chests and step toward Alastor, but before they could properly swing, tentacles emerged from the shadows gripping the torso and hips of the men and pulling them in two. The screams were horrific, and the sounds of squelch and ripping nearly made you yourself sick, however it did the job for the littler imp as he immediately caved. “Oh okay okay, alright buddy, take the siren, no problem take em! Go!” The imp stressed while pulling you from your seat and toward Alastor hurriedly.

You stumbled against his pushing and found yourself falling accidentally into Alastors arms, tripping over your own heel. Alastor caught you without even looking down, arms wrapping instinctively around you as he glared at the imp with a smile. “Oh good, I would have hated to have caused a scene! Ha ha.” Alastor laughed humorously, although he was the only one finding any joy from this as the imp cowered away from the two of you. Pulling you closer to his body, Alastor fell into the ground with you, your body feeling freezing and damp for a moment before normalcy returned.

You didn’t realise you had your hands over your eyes until you felt Alastors hands grip your wrists, and pull your hands away. You blinked up at him before glancing around the room, it was indeed a room, one you’d never seen. “We're at the Hazbin Hotel dear, time for you to see to your deal.” Alastor said calmly, his tone even and his voice soft, his even his static was at a minimum. “Of course,” You say clearing your throat and backing up from his grasp. He didn’t fight against your distance, letting his arms fall and wrap behind his back as they normally would. “Why did you help me back there? I mean you could’ve just poofed us away?” You ask, rubbing the places on your arms where the demons dragged you.

“Why, thats what friends are for my dear! That was our deal, no? To scare off the threats and protect each other?” Alastor coyly hummed, bending slightly at the waist. Looking down slightly you nodded, hands coming up to sit on your waist. Sighing you shook your head, you should’ve known that this would come back to bite you in the ass eventually. “Alright slick, what is it that i’m doing for you?”

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

I wanted Solas to be able to steal your companions (or at least some of them) away from you

On my first playthrough I genuinely thought that the test of your leadership abilities was going to be if you could keep your team together despite the machinations of the Dread Wolf himself. Obviously that was not the case, but I like the idea enough still that I want to share it now!

(Idk if I should tag this as a critique or not because while it IS me saying I wish the game had done this, that sentiment is also like. The extent of the displeasure you will hear from me in this particular post. So instead, I'll just put the divider in and give everyone a heads up now that while I am about to descend into a spiral about something I think would have been cool, me describing the cool thing I would have liked is not peppered with hate and might therefore still be fun for you to read. )

My brain went off the rails the first time I heard Harding tell Rook and Neve that Solas can go into people's dreams and kill them. (Which, was this something we learned in Inquisition/Trespasser and I missed it? I totally probably did if that's the case because I did not do a replay before jumping into Veilguard, but that line freaked me out when I first heard it lol I was like "since when?!").

While Rook assures both that they're a-okay, all good, it's just a little bid of blood magic, I thought we had just been blessed with some hella foreshadowing. Based on:

-My belief that Solas was going to have followers at his disposal

-The knowledge that he likes to mirror people and give them what they're dishing out

-Him telling Rook that once he found out they were pursuing him, he did his research

-My belief that reminiscent of other games, low approval could result in companions turning on you/leaving the party/speaking against you

I thought that Rook was going to learn that at some point in the game, Solas approached the Veilguard companions in their dreams and tried to sway them either to join him or abandon their leader. And I think there was a lot of opportunity for this to work really well.

Lucanis is perhaps the easiest example to work with here, but there's potential with all the companions because all of them can relate to Solas' experiences.

Solas, through communications in the dreams of his followers or through snooping through Lucanis' himself, would have been interested in the parallel the two share of "extreme loyalty to an important woman in their life that they look up to and take orders from" when it comes to Mythal and Caterina. Solas also knows what it's like to be gone from the world as you understand it to be for a long time and struggle with the adjustment to come back. It would have been wild to find out that he inserted himself as an interested party who sympathizes with Lucanis' struggle and had slowly been showing him all the reasons he shouldn't put all his faith in Rook while playing as a supportive mentor to Rook at the exact same time.

I think depending on how Rook handled Spite, it would have been interesting at either high approval to have Lucanis be like "hey I just want you to know that Spite caught Solas snooping around in my head last night and we shut him tf out" or a low approval Lucanis being convinced that there's no place for him at the Lighthouse/he isn't understood/is too feared and that he needs to try and help through other means. That, consequently, would create some additional difficulty when it comes to trying to kill Ghilan'nain or gain loyalty with the Crows.

And obviously him going for every single companion would have been hard to do or made the game repetitive, so maybe if at a certain point in the game it just took your companions with the lowest approval and triggered Solas attempting to sway them, that would be fun and add an element of replayability. And if you manage to raise their approval enough after getting kind of a warning-sign cutscene where they're more frustrated with Rook than usual, they then tell you "hey yeah I heard from him but I shut him out."

For brevity so that this doesn't go on forever:

-He could have very easily nerded out with Emmrich and convinced him that the world he wants is what's best for the spirits (especially since he does genuinely believe this)

-He could have come to Neve and been like "you don't have to like me because I did kill Varric, but you do love your city, don't you? As I loved mine? And wouldn't you do anything for it?" (especially if Rook saves Treviso over Minrathous)

-He could have promised Taash a place amongst his followers where they don't have to hide their fire/potentially shared some compelling truth he learned in his nerd travels about fire-breathers that they, craving more about their identity, would be tempted by

-He could have tried to play on Davrin's sympathies for the griffons and shared that all he wants is to create a world in which those he harmed have a chance to be at their fullest capacity once more, especially after its revealed that the wardens abused the griffons and then hid from their history. (Now, Davrin is a king and I see him being very hard to persuade even at low approval, but I didn't want to exlude him)

-With Bellara, I mean come on. He is the least sinister of the old elves running around, and she has always craved questions. Knowledge about Arlathan is one of the strongest connections she has with Cyrian. I also think he might try and argue that Rook could have spent more time/energy towards rescuing Cyrian, OR offered her information on the Forgotten Ones that would save him in exchange for her assistance

-Finally, I think it would have been cool if Harding is the only companion Solas actually refuses to try and sway regardless of their approval with Rook. Much in the same way Varric didn't nickname her because he feared her, I'd like to think Solas would know that having fucked with the dwarves enough, she's off-limits to manipulate because he regrets his actions so much. It would have been a cool way to actually explore that part of the narrative a little more, especially because I personally think (especially if you don't have Cadash in the game or a dwarven Rook) someone deserved to have a tough discussion with him, and given Harding's quest line, it would make sense to be her. Assuming she survives past Ghilan'nain's death, I think a cutscene while Rook is in the fade of him coming to her when we know she wants to believe that he can be saved or else it's all for nothing (I can't remember the exact quote right now, so apologies if I'm way off) and them having a really meaningful conversation about the Titans and the rage she holds would have been cool, especially since they did know each other and fight for the Inquisition together.

So yeah, just some thoughts I've had brewing, that's all.

[gojo-mochi]

Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine

Pls and ty:)

Have a great day<3

Prompt: Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine.

A/N: First time at angst! WOOO (ง ื▿ ื)ว I kinda went overboard with this one…. So it took kinda long aha, Hope you enjoy tho anon if you’re still here!

Content Warning: Fem!reader, Angst, Mild blood, Reader is a new marine fresh out of training, Reader is all slightly different in each head canon since each person’s dream girl wouldn’t be the same, hurt/ no comfort.

Not Proofread

Word Count: 5.4K

Luffy:

First Meeting:

You were on your first job, patrolling around the island to catch any criminals or report any bad deeds. With rifle clutched in hand, you practiced your stomping routine all-thru out the day, eyes darting around to scan the whole area. That was when you came across a boy? Or a young man  now that you glance over his ahem nice build, passed out in a alleyway. You immediately rush over to him, kneeling down and lifting up his head and checking for any obvious wounds or blood.

“Foo-food….so hungry..”

You heard him faintly groan out, followed by a loud stomach rumble. ‘Poor thing must not had eaten in a while..’ You pondered looking at his thin frame. You gently rest his head on your lap while you pull out your lunch bag. As soon as the stranger heard the sound of your bento opening, his eyes shot open, drooling pooling out of his mouth. You stifled a giggle at the sight, taking a pair of chopsticks and picking up one of the fried chicken you made for lunch. Offering it to the strange man, his lips seem to ‘stretch’ out and enveloped the whole chicken piece in a flash.

“Mm... yummy!”

You didn’t think more on that strange moment when the man urgently asked for more by making grabby hands motion and pouting out his lips. You couldn’t back your giggles at this point, once again picking up your chopsticks to hand feed this man. Soon, your whole lunch box was emptied and the man leans up, carefully positioning his straw-hat on top of his head. ‘That looked oddly familiar to me but why..’ Your thoughts get broken though as the strange man loudly smacks his lips together and turns to give you a thumbs up with a wide smile. “The meal tasted amazing! Almost as good as Sanji’s cooking!”

You blush a bit at his compliments, you always cooked for yourself so hearing someone saying that they enjoyed you’re cooking was new… and pleasant. “Ah! I forget to introduce myself.” You got up and dust off your pants, it was a new Marine Uniform they were testing out so you hate to get it dirty so quickly. “My name is y/n, may I asked for yours?” You reach out our hand in your introduction and the man’s hands quickly came to hold them.

‘Warm…’ You thought silently.

“Luffy!” He shakes your hand up and down rapidly, “You’re really pretty and nice by the way! You should come meet my crew! I’ll have Sanji cook something as a Thank You for giving me your lunch!” He spoke out in quick succession, not giving you time to respond back. Though you can feel your face heating up at hearing him call you ‘pretty’. “Oh right! I was supposed to meet up with my crew somewhere! I need to run now but see me later, yeah?!” You could only stare at his back as he starts to rush off somewhere.

Luffy’s POV

‘That food was so yummy! And the lady was so nice and pretty and wow!’ Luffy’s thoughts usually went a mile a min, especially now expect it was all about you. He couldn’t wait to tell his Nakamas about what happened today. He thought about how soft your lap was to rest on, how he enjoyed every single bite of food you gave him, how even more delicious the food was when it was coming from your hands. He had a skip in his steps as he ran around the island looking for any signs of his crew, ‘I hope y/n likes Sanji’s cooking! Maybe so much that she’ll even join us!’

A/N: Luffy not the type to fall in love in first sight, so idk how to exactly write out him meeting his dream girl other than this  ｡･ﾟ･(ﾉД`)ヽ

Second Meeting:

You were alerted by your Commander about a group of pirates causing havoc near the docks. You dash to the dock ready to deal damage to these Pirates. ‘How dare they! Terrorizing a small island like this one!’ You thought angrily as you get closer to your destination. You soon come across a giant blue haired robot person? And a green haired man wielding three swords. Your allies were being slashed down right in front of you. You brought out your rifle and took aim at the pirates ready to fire at a moment notice.

When you noticed a certain straw hat jumping over everyone. Your heart was thumping, blood rushing to your head as you screamed out; “Luffy!?”

Luffy turned to look at you in midair and grinned wide, stretching his arms impossibly long to where you were. He crash land in front of you with a loud ‘thud’. “Y/N! You made it!” He yelled near your ears excitedly, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You get shoved him off and point your rifle at him with shaking hands. He gives you a sad puppy eyed look. “What’s wrong?” He tilts his head in a way that almost makes you stumble in your step. But you hold fast; “What’s wrong?! What’s wrong is that you are damn Pirate!”

You raise up your rifle again in fury. Did he not know that you were a Marine this whole time? …No, he must had known and pretended to be sick so you lowered your guard down or something, after all, all pirates are the same. You blink away the tears in your eyes, the expression on Luffy’s face almost tricked you into believing that he was clueless in all of this. “Surrender now! Or else I will use this!”

You get slammed by a reindeer or some sort of reindeer liked monster. Your back hits the ground with a hard “Oof.” Escaping your lips, through bleary eyes you can barely see Luffy reaching out for you before he was pulled away by that swordman. Another Marine goes to help you back up, you wince at seeing how your forearms were all scratched and bleeding now. With only rage fueling your voice you scream as the Pirate’s ship was getting ready to sail away. “This isn’t over Luffy! You’re dead to me!”

Luffy’s POV

The Sunny was sailing away and everyone on the ship was safe and accounted for. They made off with bags of food as well. Sanji even said he was making a feast tonight. So why did Luffy feel so sad… He only known for a couple of mins but those memories kept replaying in his head. Your warmth and your kindness, it was replaced with the vision of you screaming out and on the ground bruised.

His crewmates were quick to noticed Luffy’s new attitude, him slumped over on the railing just looking at the island as it fades out of view. When anyone came up to ask, Luffy didn’t give them a answer on why he was feeling this way, he just was. He hoped that the next time you guys end up meeting that it would turn out better but the bitter feeling in the back of his mind told him that you wanted him dead. Why did you have to turn out to be a Marine… he then wondered if he could change your mind and turn you into a pirate instead.

With that new plan in mind, he cheered up a bit and went to bother Sanji about when dinner was ready. He kept rubbing at his chest the whole day though, trying to suppress the ache he felt inside.

Zoro:

First Meeting:

You were cursing your way into shelter as the rain poured down on you. Keeping your sword close to your body as you huddled underneath a tree. ‘Damn it, of course it would rain as soon as I finished with my sword training for the day.’ You cursed silently, wringing out the sleeves on your robe. You always switch out of your usual Marine’s uniform when training but now you��re began to regret that choice. The Marine’s uniform were waterproof to a degree, given how much of your work was out on the sea.

You huff out, rolling your eyes to the dark overcast, flipping it off like it would make any sort of difference. You heard a snort coming off from the left. You jump up a bit in shock, glad that you’re commander wasn’t here to see you be so careless enough not to notice another presence near you. You glare at the new person, not out of any hatred, just annoyance. Why were you even annoyed at this person? You don’t really have an answer for that…

You take a good look at the stranger, he have oddly colored green hair, a scar over his eye, and three swords hung by the side of his hip. He sends over a small smirk when he catches you staring for too long at his open chest. “A picture would last longer, you know?” He taunted with a slight tilt of his head. You feel a fierce blush coming up and you tore your eyes away from watching the rain droplets go down on his admittedly nice abs. You faked a cough and straighten your shoulders out.

“I was just making sure you weren’t a threat or anything like that.” You grunted out. You blush even more when the stranger gave you a toothy smirk in response as he hums. The hums almost came out as growl from how deep it sounded. “So, do you still think I am threat then little missy?” His grey eyes now scanning over your body. Your hands itches towards your sword but you stop yourself.

“I’m Y/N, and I’m…” You took a small pause, “I’m sigh sorry about before, thinking you were a threat and all that.” You did feel bad for glaring at him for no reason, after all he didn’t do anything to deserve it. The man shifted his position, letting his robe fall open, exposing even more of his tanned skin and scarred muscles. “Tis’ fine, it’s not like I blame you for staring.” Oh, alright, now you don’t feel bad for glaring at him.

“I was-wasn’t staring!” You quickly snapped back, which cause the still unnamed man to barked out a laugh. You start to grind your teeth, ‘Fuck him and his stupid attractive laugh too.’ You thought as you turn to find shelter elsewhere. You felt a tug as the man grabbed on to your wrist and pulled you back.

“Hey! Wait! I uh fuck.” He lets you go. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you alright. So don’t leave ok?” His voice sounded a bit softer than before. When you turned around, you catch sight of a small blush painting over his face. It made your heart skip a beat. You shuffles back to your spot, next to the man, letting your shoulder bump against his tall frame. “I didn’t know that you wanted me back that badly.” You jested, feeling off the warm feeling crawling up.

You heard another snort come off the man, and then the warmth of his broad hand coming to ruffle your hair. He didn’t say anything in return though, just letting the pitter patter of the raindrops wash over you two. It took a while and some brushing of hands and fake coughing for one of you to speak up again. “So.. what type of sword style do you use?” The man grunted and looked over to the sword by your hip. You drummed your fingers on the hilt of your blade nervously at his intense gaze.

“I came from a place called Mount Hua, and I was taught the Plum Blossom sword technique there.” You tilt your head back to glance as his expression. Most people would scoff when they see a woman with a sword so you wonder how he’s reacting. It catches you by surprise to see him so intrigued by your words. “Could you show me once this damn rain goes away?”

He sounded serious about it, not like all the others who taunted or mocked your style. ‘Plum Blossom style? Heh! Sounds girly enough for a woman to use! What does it do? Make everything pretty? Bahahah!’ Your thoughts race to all the things people said to you before. You faked another cough and tried to secretly wipe away your tears that were threatening to fall. You just settled for a nod, looking away, hoping that the man doesn’t see your tears. You hear some shifting beside you and the hand returns upon your head.

His callous fingers gently sunk into your hair, scraping against your scalp tenderly, it almost makes your purr from the sensation. He stayed silent, just letting his hand convey all his feelings. The rain soon ended after this moment, you didn’t know if you wanted to be happy or cry that it was over. You step out from under the shelter and give a head nod to the man. You wondered what a good time to ask for his name, it feels awkward to ask after so long.

The man gave a nod back and began to follow you as you walk to a good place to show off your sword technique. You suck in a shaky breath, readying your sword stance. Closing your eyes and steadying your mind, your body goes thru the motions you repeated so many times before. Right foot first, swing your sword out into an arc, twist your body and follow that arc, another step into a whole dance. Move your body like the swaying petals that descend down from Mount Hua.

Since your eyes were closed the whole time, you didn’t get to see the awestruck expression the man wore on his face the entire time. Mouth slightly agape and his one eye never leaving your form as you make the plum blossoms  bloom around you with each swing. It was breath-taking and utterly ethereal, the man thought to himself. His own hand itching to try and copy your sword style. He wanted desperately to see more of this technique and more of you if he was being honest.

Once you were done, the plum blossom softly fall down around you, it made you look heavenly. You tried to not let out a wheeze, controlling your breaths unless your heartrate fully calmed down. Your turns toward the man as he was walking to you, mouth open to say something but cut off by the ringing of your transponder snail. Pere Pere Pere…. Click. You take out the snail from your pocket, it’s eyes opens as your commander’s shouts out. “Y/N! Where are you!? We have a code red down at the docks! Hurry over now!” You stammered out an yes while shooting the stranger a apologetic look. You quickly took foot to the docks, your duties outweigh everything else.

Zoro’s POV

His hand reached out before his mind could react but you were already gone. ‘Shit..’ Zoro looked back to the plum blossoms scattered on the ground. Picking one up between his fingers, rolling it around he sighs. Hand going to rest on his sword hilt he wonders if he could make flowers bloom like you could. His mind flashed back to your sorrowful expression when he asked you to show off your technique. You must had a hard time in the past, his fist balled up in fury at the thought of someone… anyone making you cry like that. He shook his heads as these kind of thoughts filled his head, it was unusual for him to feel such strong emotions and for someone he barely knows as well. He rolls his shoulders and tries not to delve deeper into these new emotions, wondering where the hell his crew was. (A/N: Zoro was supposed to meet his crew an hour ago but he got lost ofc ヽ(~_~()

Second Meeting:

Clang! Your sword comes down and clashed against the large blue metal arm of the cyborg. “Woah there lady! Why don’t we all calm down and talk about this, yeah?” You stepped back when arms sprout from the ground trying to grab your ankles. “We can talk about this once you all are all in handcuffs!” You ready to swing again but you stumble in you step when you caught sight of a familiar green head of hair. A fellow officer catches you before you fully fall flat on your face. “Get it together L/N!” You nod at your fellow officer.

Fighting down the urge to puke when the green haired stranger goes to join the Pirate Crew’s side. Your lips pressed together when you see him take out his swords against the marines. Your body tense and you made your way to the man. Swish! Clang!Zoro’s eye widen when you clashed swords. “Y/N? Wh-what? Why the hell are you here?!” Veins forming on his forearms as he tried to push back against your attack. “I should be asking you that! If I had known that you were a damn pirate I would never had-!” Your breath falters as your eyes start to well up with tears. Zoro let out a hiss when you managed to nick his arm a bit.

You could feel that he was holding back, not putting his full strength into his attacks. You growled out, “Stop doing that! Are you going easy on me just became I’m a girl?!” You swung down again with a heavy arc. Zoro jumped back shock and then anger paints over his face. “I wouldn’t hold back just cause of that! You don’t know a damn thing about me!” He snarled out, accidently putting some of his haki into his next swing, the force pushed you all the way across the battlefield. Your Commander caught you before you fell into the ocean.

Your head was dizzy and your ears was ringing, you felt your Commander’s hands on your back and neck as he props you up a bit. His visage was hazy and you could slightly hear the words, “Y/N?! Ar- -ou wi—me!? Y/N!!” The last thing you saw was Zoro in the distance, jumping up on the Pirate’s ship and leaving. You soon pass out in your Commander’s arms afterwards.

Zoro’s POV

He was getting patched up in Chopper’s office, heart still thumping from the visage of you all bloodied on the ground. From his own attack as well. He hiss out when Chopper applied the medical salve on a  particularly grisly wound. “Sorry Zoro! Are you alright?” Chopper fretted over him, going to check over every inch of his body again. Zoro only grunted a “Is ok.” In return and stood up. He waves off Chopper’s worries and ignores the stinging stares on his back from the rest of his crewmates once he walked out on deck.

He goes up to the Crow’s Nest, pretending the paining in his arms weren’t there. He looks at all his gym equipment and slumps his shoulders, opting to just lay on the ground. ‘A nap sounds fine I guess…’

His hand goes inside his robe to pull out a single plum blossom petal, he rolls between his fingers, admiring the soft shades of colors. His mind goes back to you, your cute expression when he teased you, your form when dancing, and you.. dead on the ground because of him. He shuts his eyes and holds the petal close to his chest and goes to sleep. Wondering if things went differently, where you would be now…

Sanji:

First Meeting:

You pulled the short stick and got tasked with the duty of groceries shopping for the rest of your team this week. You squint at the long list your Commander gave you. “Apples, Bread (Make sure to get Rye NOT WHEAT), Meat, (Beef, Pork, Lamb if you find it), Bruss-oof.” You hit the back of a tall blonde stranger, stumbling backwards you shut your eyes preparing for the crash landing. Only to find yourself in the arms of the same stranger you bumped into. “Woah there! Are you alright ma chérié?” A smooth voice asked. You open you eyes to find the face of the stranger, a handsome man with a curly brow.

With his arms wrapped securely around your waist he brings you back up to your feet. You stuttered out an apology and bowed to your savior. He chuckles and bowed back with a more flawless posture. “No need to thank me, I will always help a beautiful lady in need.” He then put his hand out in asking for yours. You blush at the compliment and bashfully gave him your hand, he then proceeded to plant a soft kiss on the back of your hand which cause you to blush even further.

“May I ask why you were in such a big rush, my dear?”

“O-oh! I was getting groceries and I was looking at my list and not paying any attention, which I am so sorry for again!” As you explained your reasoning you went to show the list that held all the items you needed to buy. Expect it wasn’t in your hands anymore or your pockets for that matter. You pat around your whole body looking for that very long and important list. Finding nothing in the end, yours hand start to clench as your breathing became more unstable. “Shit, Shit, SHIT! This can not be happening to me right!” Your whole body at this point starts to shake, when you feel warm hands on your shoulders and a calming voice guiding you down.

“Hey there, look at me alright, and breath with me. You need to breath, miss…. That’s it… slow and steady… good job.”

Your breathing starts to calm down as you listen to the voice. Shoulders still slightly shaking as you feel the same warm hands as before pat your head and began to wipes away tears you didn’t know was falling. You start hiccupping as the man pulls you into his arms, rubbing small soothing circles on your back. Once you calmed down enough to speak, you look at up the man, still being held in his arms.

“Th-thank you for this… I’m sorry for—”

He stops you before you could finish your apology. “Don’t feel like you need to apologize my dear, it’s a man’s duty to always help dries a lady’s tears as well.” His head still petting your hair so sweetly it makes your heart squeeze a bit. Still he was a stranger no matter how handsome he is, so you reluctantly push away from his firm chest and try not to think too much about the look on his face as you did. “It just that I lost the list of all the things I need to get for my group and I’m not sure what to do now…”

The man hummed for a bit, closing his eyes before he said. “Why don’t I help you out with your shopping? Not to brag but I am quite the talented chef so this would be a easy task for me to do.” He grinned down at you. You start to refuse stating that you didn’t want to bother him but he had already grabbed your hand into his and was pulling you towards the marketplace. “Just tell me about who we’re buying for and let me take care of it, ok sweetheart?” Your heart skips so many beats hearing him call you sweetheart, just so casually like it was something that was normal between you two.

You brush aside the nickname and your beating heart to explain some of your teammates tastes and dislike. The more you talk the more comfortable you got, telling him about how each of your teammates have something they actively hate and will not even touch a dish if it has that certain ingredient in it. Throwing your arms in the air as you told the story of how two of them got into a fight over who ate the last of the mangos. He chuckles at the story or at how you were acting, you weren’t so sure but you were enjoying the time spent with him.

He easily explained what was best to get, how to pick the best fruit, cut of meat, and fresh fish, he also showed you how to haggle for the best prices as well. You giggled when he went back and forth with the old fishermen, his hand still held on tightly to yours the whole time. You felt a small squeeze every time the fishermen retorted back saying the price was firm. In the end he did get a couple of free fishes with his order. He was swinging his hand that held yours as he happily carried the numerous amount of bags all in his other arm.

You wanted to share some of the load but he was adamant about carrying it all for you but he denied every moment you asked. His hand was oh so warm and caring, when you reached your building you didn’t want to let go. And it seems like he didn’t either, he just silently drops the bags off and hold steady to you hand before letting go. Your fingers slipping past each other slowly until you were freed, free but cold. You just stayed there in the middle of your doorway, you both don’t even know the other’s name but you feel like there was something that was bubbling just below the surface.

However, before anything could happen the both of you heard a huge explosion come from somewhere in the city. The make the ground beneath shake heavily and your ears ring from the aftershock. You look around frantically to see any signs of enemies or anything that could be dangerous while the man did the same while shielding you. You shake off the same feeling in your chest as you went to Transponder Snail to check in with your team. “I have to go check on my friends! Please stay here and stay safe!” The man yells as he starts to run towards the source of the explosion.

You yelled after him but he was already long gone, the Transponder snail still ringing in your hand. You bite you lips in worry for your teammates and the strange man you gotten close to.

Sanji’s POV:

While he hates to leave a beautiful young lady behind, he can’t help but worry about his friends. So while his legs went on autopilot to his friends his mind wandered back over to the marketplace and to you, how his hand fits so perfectly on your waist, the way your smile seem to set his heart aflame each time you directed at him, it was a different sort of feeling from what he usually get when seeing a pretty lady. It both terrified and excited him at the same time, he thought of what he could do when he needed to leave the island later. Would you accept a vivre card from him a stranger, was that too much? Maybe just giving you his number would be fine… or maybe you could join the crew as his assistant? He need to convince Luffy first but also you but his mind couldn’t help but think of all the scenario of you and him together.

He finally reached source of the smoke and found his friends being attacked by a group of marines. He hurries in to help fight them off.

Second Meeting:

The Transponder snail opened up it eyes and you heard your teammate shout out your name. You responded back right away, asking how was everyone and where they were. You voice came out in rasps as you didn’t know that you were holding your breath this whole time. You slide down to the floor upon hearing that everyone was safe from the blast. Tears falling from all the stress, but you steadied yourself once your teammate asked if you could come help. You stifled some sniffles and told them that you’ll be there soon.

You got into your uniform and ready your weapon by your side as you head to the meeting area, the source of the explosion. ‘Where that kind stranger went to….I hope he’s ok..’ Thoughts like these race in your mind as you dash across the town. You hear the sound of fighting before you could spot anyone. You get out your weapon and hurry to the battle to find… The same stranger.

Your heart stops in your throat, your mind was spinning, and you could barely hear you’re the fight over you, as you eyes set on the man. He looked good, you hate to admit it, as he was going around kicking your teams’ ass, but dam does he look good doing it. You snapped out of it when you got pulled back by your commander as a strange and buff Raccoon dog(?) was barreling your way. You landed with a oof and grunted out a sorry as your commander went back to help the others.

Your mind was still foggy over why he man was helping the pirates and what that meant for the two of you. The two of you?? You only knew him for what? A couple of hours? Why were you thinking so hard on this, it obvious that he’s a pirate and that he needs to go down, just like every other pirate out there. You keep telling yourself that as you head straight towards him with your weapon pointed. “Halt!”

The man stopped in his tracks as he turns to meet you, his eye goes wide but then he immediately smiles wide. “Ma chérié! You’re here!” He stretch his arms out wide, as if he was waiting for a hug. You almost falter in your step as you felt your cheeks warm up. You pretended it was from anger and not anything else as you take a step back and faced your weapon towards him. “Surrounded now Pirate! I won’t ask twice!”

His arms was still out stretched but the smile on his face fell. It seems like he was struggling to say something but then the same Raccoon dog you saw before was crashing towards you again but you managed to step away just in time. “Get away from Sanji!” ‘Sanji… so that’s his name..’

You land on your feet with a hard thud. Growling as you try to swipe at the large creature, almost landing a hit when Sanji stops you with his leg. “Wait! Please let talks this out, my dear, we could work this out.” You pushed away his leg and yelled back. “Talk what out?! You’re a pirate! We have nothing between us!”. As soon as Sanji’s face fell, you regret what you said, heart twisting in your chest. One of your teammate came to stand beside you and take aim at the two, shooting at them while they ran back to their ship. You curse them out as the ship’s sails unfurled and they began to leave. Trying desperately to stop the tears from falling as your heart reach out to him while your mind was yelling at you.

Sanji’s POV:

He just stayed in the kitchen for most of the week after leaving that island. Distracting himself by preparing new dishes, snacks, drinks, anything that occupy his hands and his mind. Usopp and Nami was worried about him and the food storage but Sanji waved them off. He puffed out another smoke from his nth cigarette. Looking at his hand and trying to remember the warmth he felt when yours was holding it. He sighs, putting out his current cigarette and lighting up another one. As his thoughts pulled him back that marketplace and the sound of your laughter rings in his ears.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi First i really apreciate and Love your Work, it's often make my day,thanx for this.keep going.Now to my request can you write Something with Donna and blind Reader Like First Meeting Fell in Love First kiss First time what ever you want and be comfortable with i know i will Love everything what you do about it.sending hugs🤗.

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your words!!! Hugs to you too!!! Thank you for the request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))

A light in your darkness

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Blind! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, blindness, smut implied, angst, maybe? Idk

Word count: 7,324

Summary: You have nothing to lose, but someone to love...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours :))) I love you all!!!

The fire was like a glow, like a sign of death burning around you. The smoke was intoxicating. The sound of the wood giving way to the flames was all you could hear apart from your screams.

Panic had your senses kidnapped. You couldn't know where you were, the infernal glow of the fire burned the darkness you could see, there was no way out.

A small cabin somewhere in the mountains, that was your home, your little world away from society, from a village where you knew there was no place for you.

A terrible illness took away your sight, forced you to live in darkness and dark images, blurred shadows that seemed to constantly haunt you. After that, with the fear of the village divinities considering you a useless villager, not good enough to be another link in its chain, your parents took you to that remote place.

But their death made things worse. You weren't useless, you could, more or less, take care of yourself on that mountain. Your life was quiet, peaceful, like a hermit, like a blind witch who lived on the fringes of society.

Praying to the Black Gods, helped by some of your old friends, you were able to survive, to subsist so as not to see the light of the sun one more day, so the darkness would indicate you had not succumbed to despair.

But, one night, sleeping, dreaming of a better life, an intense aroma, a horrible cough and a scorching heat forced you to stand up.

Panicked, you searched with your damaged eyes for some place that was not illuminated by those flames, a dark place, to take refuge. Dodging the parts of the cabin that seemed to want to finish you off, you managed to run towards that icy darkness, towards the outside of the cabin.

You didn't even bother to scream, you knew that no one would hear you. You could only run, run and not look back, not let the flames be a blurry dance in your darkness.

You panted desperately, walking through the thick snow, trying to lean on what you thought were trees, walking away from the tempting heat of that fire. There was no way out. On one side, a horrible death, consumed by the fire, on the other, your already well-known darkness, hunger, the dangers of the forest.

You stumbled in the snow, you continued to flee towards the unknown, you cried, you screamed. There was nothing, no one, just you, just that stupid blind girl who had met her end just the way she lived, alone.

Exhausted from the escape, with the snow making it harder for you, you slowed down, wondering if maybe it was better to let yourself fall, let yourself freeze, give up. But a part of you never considered giving up as an option. With a furious growl, you kept walking.

This was definitely not your night. The emptiness your foot felt when it returned to the ground was too abrupt. The balance you had left didn't know how to react to the lack of snow under your steps. Something, a cruel force pushed you towards the abyss, to the bottom of a small cliff.

“Ah!” you screamed as you fell, as you understood that this was your end.

The rocks dug into your body, cradling you in a sinister way as you rushed towards your end, one that never came.

You fell back into the snow, with a dull thud, with a horrible, stabbing pain in your arm. The pain was a good sign, you had survived. The cold snow muffled your pain and a strange calm invaded your senses.

All around you was nothing, just darkness.

You crawled along the ground, accompanied by the strange sound of a distant waterfall. For some reason that seemed familiar to you, but you didn't pay attention to it. You couldn't see anything, you didn't know if maybe you were on the edge of another cliff. You missed the blurry light of the flames.

“Help…” you murmured, trying to stand up, desperate, supporting your hands on the rock wall. Your whole body hurt, you could barely walk, you stumbled, fell, and you couldn't get up.

“Hey, you!” a shrill voice reached your ears. You turned around, but in vain. The darkness of the night was not exactly your best ally.

“Is anyone there? Hey, help!” you said, hoping that the voice was real, that your subconscious wasn't easing your conscience so you could die in peace.

“Help? You fool!” the voice sounded again and you, desperate to know where it came from, stretched out your arms. Nothing.

You could hear small steps in the snow, like a child's steps and behind them, firmer, subtler, almost silent ones.

“There you are, you little thief!” that voice shouted again, getting closer, followed by those quiet steps, those footsteps that got even closer.

“What? I’m, I'm not a thief,” you muttered, stretching out your arm to steady yourself, to stand up again, something you didn't manage to do.

“What have you come here to do, stupid?” that childish voice asked.

You shook your head, breathing with difficulty. That girl certainly had a bad temper.

“Hey, but, little girl, I didn't... I didn't come to steal... My house was on fire and I, I fell,” you explained slowly, with a broken voice but sure that you were telling the truth.

“Of course, and I guess I have to believe you right?!” that strange girl shrieked. She seemed to walk from side to side.

“It's the truth!” you shouted desperately, trying to reason with that distrustful little girl. “No, I didn't want to bother you, it was just an accident.”

“Accident? Don't continue or I'll burst out laughing,” the girl mocked, with a macabre laugh. “Come on, kill her, kill her.”

“No, no please!” you shouted again, letting yourself fall to the ground, joining your hands to ask for mercy. “I'm not a thief!”

“But you are stupid, clumsy and a moron,” the girl insulted you, making your hopes fade more and more. You crawled back on the ground, looking for a way to escape. The only thing you found was a cloth, a dress that quickly moved aside when you made contact with it. It didn't look like that girl. It looked like an adult’s dress, your hope.

“Take your dirty girl hands off! Don't you know who you're talking to?” the little girl scolded you.

You, nervous, couldn't do anything but shake your head, your eyes full of tears.

“N, no… I, I don’t,” you whispered with a tired, sad, defeated sigh.

“You don’t? Damn, stupid, are you blind?” the girl asked with an incredulous, mocking tone.

You, sighing again, sitting in the snow, nodded.

“Actually, I am,” you said quietly, closing your useless eyes.

Silence was the answer, along with subtle sounds and breezes indicating that someone was moving in an exaggerated way.

“Oh, are you?” that shrill voice asked, which seemed more mocking than before. “Can't you see anything?”

You shook your head, bringing your knees to your chest, letting the tears slide down your cheeks.

“Who are you?” a different voice asked, darker, hoarse, almost melodic, which made you raise your head with a mix of relief and terror. It was probably the owner of that dress.

“My, my name is (Y/N),” you stammered, relieved to be able to talk to an adult woman and not to a rude child.

“(Y/N)…” that feminine voice sighed, soft but somehow threatening. You didn't know why, but a shiver ran through your spine. “What are you doing here?”

“I, I've said it, I... My, my house was on fire, I tried to run away and... I fell, I fell off a cliff, or so I think,” you explained calmly, looking with your eyes for that bright reflection of the flames that you could no longer see.

“I told you it smelled like something was burning!” the girl exclaimed, jumping in the snow.

“Mm,” the woman murmured with disinterest. “What's a blind girl doing living alone? You must understand that I find it suspicious,” the woman in the dress said, with a darkness similar to your gaze.

You shrugged, thinking that, really, you had just lost everything.

“My, my parents died years ago,” you said in a whisper, turning your head away from the source of the sound, focusing on that calming waterfall. “I, I've managed things well until now but... The, the fire...”

“Bah, what a loser!” the girl shrieked.

You frowned. That kid definitely needed manners.

“No, I didn’t mean to be annoying…” you said, awkwardly standing up, holding your injured arm, ready to get away from that dangerous situation.

A strong grip made you hiss in pain, a hand grabbed your arm, burning it with its touch.

“You’re hurt,” that dark voice murmured.

“I, I don’t know, it hurts,” you said, removing your grip.

“Oh, no…” the girl sighed in a comical voice.

“Don’t really know who I am?” the woman asked, holding you in place with her grip.

You shook your head, stopping fighting the burning grip in your arm.

“No, but…If, if you help me, I guess you will be my savior,” you said in a sweet, desperate voice. “I don't want to cause any trouble, I just, I just want...”

“Come here,” that mysterious voice said, pulling you along, dragging you through the snow until your feet collided with something hard, it seemed like wood.

The creaking of a door, and the pleasant warmth coming from inside told you that you were in a house. The smell of humidity was strong, like a closet that had been closed for years. You could see lights, blurry shadows, a black figure that you couldn't make out, now pulling you along; next to it, another smaller blurry spot, the ill-mannered girl.

“Sit down,” the melodic voice ordered you, releasing you abruptly. Your legs collided with a piece of furniture that looked like a sofa and you obeyed.

The pain returned to your arm when a gentle hand lifted the sleeve of your dress. You protested, but she was stronger, she seemed to be searching for something. You couldn't tell, you could never know.

“It's nothing serious, but it needs to be healed,” that woman murmured, putting something on your wound, something that burned like the fire that destroyed your house.

“Yiahhh!” you yelled at that horrible pain, earning a mocking laugh from the evil girl.

“Silly, silly,” the little girl mocked, climbing onto the couch next to you.

From the size of that blurry spot, it was definitely a girl.

Silence fell over you again. The smell of humidity penetrated your brain, the warmth of what seemed like a fireplace soothed the cold. You didn't want to say anything. You simply stayed quiet, enduring the sting of your wound, trying not to give that girl more reasons to laugh at you.

“Thank you,” you sighed when you noticed how the bandages covered your arm.

 There was no answer, just a strange sigh.

“You say your house has caught fire,” the dark woman murmured, moving away from you. A lavender scent eclipsed the humid atmosphere of that place.

“Yes,” you answered, moving your arm, which barely hurt anymore. “I woke up in the middle of the night and… I could only make out the flames, and the smoke. I ran out of the cabin, but, but I tripped and… I fell, I fell here.”

“You are not from the village,” she commented, with a distrustful tone.

“No, well yes, well, I was,” you said embarrassed, lamenting your condition.

“Explain yourself,” the woman demanded, with an impatient tone.

“And don't dare to lie, you fool, or we'll know!” the girl shrieked.

“What would I win by lying?” you protested, more and more annoyed by that attitude. From the little movement you saw, you sensed that the little demon shrugged. “No, I… My, my family took me out of the village when I lost my sight. They thought, they thought that by not being useful, maybe I would be repudiated by the Black Gods and Mother Miranda.”

“They thought so?” the woman asked, with an almost amused tone, or so you thought. “Sciocchezze.”

“So, sorry, what?” you asked, confused. That strange word made you stir, as if there was something that was screaming to be heard.

The woman cleared her throat and sighed again.

“Nonsense,” she explained with a tired voice. “Mother Miranda would not despise anyone for that, your family was stupid.”

“Don’t, don't insult my family,” you hissed, clenching your fists, offended by those words.

“Oh, are you threatening us?” the girl mocked, too close to you. “Stop playing savior angels and kill her, D…”

You didn't know why, but that stupid girl shut up instantly, maybe because of the sudden movement you could feel in the woman.

“Mm, it's late for a girl like you to walk around here alone,” she murmured, seemingly unfazed by your threat. “You can stay tonight.”

“What?! You must be joking,” the girl complained.

“Can I?” you asked incredulously. “I… Thank you, thank you very much.”

“Get up, I'll take you to your room,” she ordered you in a cold voice. You, defenseless again, reached out your hand, looking for help, a point of support to be able to stand up safely.

A passive hand picked you up, pulling you to your feet, perhaps too hard, causing you to collide with that mysterious woman who smelled like lavender.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. She growled annoyed and walked away from you.

You, lost and scared, reached for her hold, her arm, something she rejected, scared, annoyed by the contact.

“Lasciami!” she demanded, shaking from your grip. You sobbed in confusion.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that…I, I don’t know this place and…” you said in a weak voice, broken by feeling that useless. “I need someone to guide me.”

The woman sighed unpleasantly and took your hand again, putting it on her arm.

“Ugh, it’s okay,” she hissed annoyed, walking with you, slowly.

Without speaking, you climbed up some stairs, helped by the lavender woman, until, after opening a door, she let you go near what looked like a bed.

“Hey,” you said, when the sound of heels told you that the woman was moving away again. “I would like to know your name, so I can thank you.”

There was no answer, just a murmur that, you were sure, was not directed at you.

“Aye,” the girl said, comically.

Small steps on the wood approached you. You trembled knowing that this sinister girl was approaching, but when the door closed and the sound of heels disappeared, you sensed that perhaps you fear had betrayed you.

The dim light that illuminated the room was not enough to distinguish shadows around you and, knowing that you were alone, you lay down on that bed, with your hands running around your surroundings until they touched something cold.

“What?” you asked, puzzled by that object, which you ran your hands over. Wooden arms, legs, a porcelain face… “A doll?” you asked when you guessed what you had in your hands, leaving that strange puppet on the side of the bed.

The tiredness was overwhelming, but the loss of everything you had was even more so, forcing you to curl up on yourself and let your tears soak the sheets.

“Gods, what am I going to do now?”

Luckily, at least you were able to sleep, even if it was in the middle of a heartbreaking cry.

The morning light was already distinguishable, and, clumsily, you got up, resting your hand on the walls. Strangely, you didn't notice the doll that was there the day before. You didn't give it any importance.

After juggling to get to the bathroom, you leaned on the railing of the stairs, confused, afraid to go down them without help.

“Hello? I, I need some help!” you asked the void, walking along the wood until you reached the first step.

“She spent the whole night crying. She’s a pain in the ass, she’s a… Oh, silly girl, you woke up!” the girl shrieked, who seemed to be talking to someone downstairs.

“Hey, uh, little girl, help me down the stairs, please,” you asked, rolling your eyes, hoping that the mysterious woman would appear.

“Okay,” she said in a comical voice, approaching you, or so you thought from her steps. “Let’s see, silly girl, one… Two…”

With her help and leaning on the railing all the time, you went down the dangerous steps one by one, trusting someone you knew you shouldn’t trust.

“Okay, okay, that’s it, you can walk normally,” the girl said.

You sighed and nodded, taking the first step, one that made you stumble and fall resoundingly to the ground. There were still stairs to go.

“Oh, damn girl,” you lamented in pain, with your ears being harassed by the cruel laughter of the stupid girl.

“Angie!” the woman's voice interrupted that tasteless joke and her heels approached you hastily.

Angie. You didn't know why, but that name sounded familiar to you.

“Uh...” you complained, letting that woman who smelled of lavender lift you off the floor carefully.

“Are you okay?” she asked, grabbing your shoulders and shaking your dress.

“I, I guess…” you said, wincing in pain. “That daughter of yours is quite the joker, isn't she?” you asked.

“Daughter?” the woman asked, confused.

Another loud laugh sounded in that strange house. It seemed that the girl was lying on the floor, kicking and hitting it with her fists, as if she had had a cruel fit of laughter.

“Daughter, she says! Don't keep talking, stop. I'm going to have a heart attack! Daughter!” the girl mocked, making you snort.

“She's not my daughter, (Y/N),” the woman said, guiding you with her arm through the house while an increasingly intense aroma of coffee made you forget that incident.

“Oh, I... I, I didn't know,” you apologized, letting her sit you on a chair and bring you closer to a table, where the aroma of coffee was much more intoxicating.

“I'm sure you're hungry,” she murmured, handing you a steaming cup of coffee that you carefully took. “Take whatever you want.”

“I... Thanks,” you sighed, touching the table, finding a whole feast of toast, oil and buns, which you devoured eagerly.

Silence was your company again, silence and darkness, the duo that guided your life.

“What are you going to do now? Your house is destroyed,” she commented, breaking the calm with an exasperating truth.

“I, I don't know,” you sighed, wanting to cry again. “I, I guess... I don't know.”

“You don't know,” she repeated, with a disinterested voice.

“Well, you should know, stupid! This isn't a hotel!” the girl shrieked, jumping on the wooden floor.

“Angie, basta!” the woman shouted, severely. You raised your eyebrows again, blinking in confusion.

“Basta?” you asked in a small voice.

The woman sighed in annoyance, putting her cup down on the table with a loud bang.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” she said coldly. “But I want you to answer me, what are you going to do now?”

“I already said I… I don’t know,” you said through clenched teeth, furious at that girl, at the discomfort you were starting to feel. “I have nowhere to go.”

“I see,” the woman whispered.

“She doesn’t!” the girl mocked, eliciting an angry growl from the lavender woman, who stood up from her chair, dragging it along in an unpleasant manner.

“Angie! If you keep going like that I swear I'll deactivate you,” she hissed, making you shift in your chair, confused.

“Deactivate?” you asked in a voice so low that she didn't hear.

“Oh, come on, Donna, I'm just kidding,” the girl complained. “You have to laugh at yourself.”

“D, Donna?” you asked again, with the cup shaking in your hand.

Donna. That name made everything in your head make sense. You had been away from the village for a long time, but you remembered it, you remembered Mother Miranda, the Lords, you remembered their figures, their faces before you lost your sight. Alcina Dimitrescu, Salvatore Moreau, Karl Heisenberg and… Donna Beneviento.

Donna Beneviento, dark woman, doll maker, nightmare creator, mentally disturbed, owner of the living doll… Yes, you remembered, you remembered the name of that doll, Angie.

“Gods…” you said agitatedly, falling from the chair, kneeling on the floor, finally knowing who you were talking to, who you had upset. The waterfall, the musty smell, that black figure, that accent, those words. There was no doubt. “Gods, I… Please, please have mercy on me, Lady Beneviento. I didn't know that I had fallen into… I, I didn't know who…”

“Shut up,” the lady ordered you, in a stern tone, as if she were upset because you had discovered her identity.

“I, I shouldn't have bothered you… I, I'll leave right away,” you said, crawling on the floor, terribly scared, getting up and running towards the unknown.

“Watch your step, stupid!” Angie squealed mockingly, just before you tripped on a rug and fell to the floor again, on your injured arm.

The heels walked slowly, Lady Beneviento was approaching you again.

“Get up,” she ordered, bending down and roughly grabbing you by the shoulders, making you stagger. “Stop fooling around.”

“Fooling around? I, I… I didn’t know that…” you stammered with your dress being shaken again, your nerves blurring your almost non-existent vision even more. “I, I’m sorry I… I’ll, I’ll go and…”

“I said shut up… Idiota…” the lady hissed, grabbing your arm tightly. “You want to run away, huh? Do I scare you?”

“No, yes, I…” you stammered unable to speak clearly.

“You said I was your savior,” she snapped at you in a dark voice. “Has your mind changed because you know who I am?”

“No, I…” you murmured again, panic running through your body.

“So…” she growled, pushing you unpleasantly, your body threatening to fall again. “Sit down and eat your breakfast!”

“Hey, hey, Donna, aren't you going too far?” Angie intervened, guiding you surprisingly carefully towards the table.

“It's always the same, Angie!” the lady shrieked, stamping her feet angrily. “What I do doesn't matter! Even this blind girl is unable to stop looking me as… As a monster…” she sighed with a sob, a terrible one that stirred you as you fixed your useless gaze below.

“I, I can't see if you're a monster or not,” you whispered, trying to calm her erratic attitude, one you'd heard about before. “And even if I could, I don't think any monster would have saved my life.”

She came quickly, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“That's what everyone says and then... Then they run away in terror...” she whispered threateningly in your ear, squeezing your shoulders, digging her nails into your skin. “Leaving me alone again!”

“I’m, I'm not going to run away, it, it just surprised me,” you said calmer, regretting your attitude. “I... I'm alone too, you know?”

“You...” Donna growled, letting you go with a furious gasp, muttering something you didn't understand.

“I, I don't know what, what could have happened to you for, for someone like you to be alone but...” you murmured, letting the tears of terror stain your face.

“Someone like me? What do you mean?” she asked in a different tone.

The Angie doll climbed onto your lap, as if she was now the one protecting you.

“You're a Lord, I, I remember you from when I was little and we went to church,” you commented, with Angie comically feeding you. You pushed her away so you could continue talking. “You always wore black… You were always, always silent. I know it may seem silly but… You, you were my favorite.”

“Your favorite? What the hell are you talking about?” she asked furiously, nervous about not understanding your meaningless words.

“My friends and I used to play at being the Lords of the village,” you said with a smile, remembering much better times, when you saw something else than blurry shadows. “I always wanted to be you.”

“Yeah! Donna's the best!” Angie sang, lowering herself to the floor again. “Hey, hey Donna, easy…”

“I, I liked the way you were, always quiet, silent, observant… I, I don't know, I guess you were the one I identified with the most,” you explained, with your head down. “You, you don't seem like the others, you're different.”

“You're wrong, you're very wrong, (Y/N),” Donna whispered, sitting back down, hitting the table with her fist.

“Would your siblings have saved me?” you asked, in a risky question. After all, you realized that you had nothing to lose.

She answered with silence, with a strange sigh.

“I know, I know, I know, choose me, I know the answer! Ask me, silly, ask it to me!” the doll squealed, comically pulling at your dress. You couldn't help but smile. “They would have let you freeze!”

“That doesn't mean anything,” the doll maker murmured, with the same cold voice.

“It means you saved me,” you answered, with your lower lip trembling. “No matter what you think, I… I will always be grateful to you, and… Well, I guess my life is already ruined, so I have nothing to lose by saying this but… Maybe, if I could stay with you, I…Nei, neither of us would have to be alone again.”

“Do you… Do you want to stay with me? You?” she asked, startled again. “You are more daring than I thought.”

“I simply have nothing to lose,” you sighed, closing your eyes, hoping that a darkness different than the one you could see would be your end, that the memories would remain in your mind before you died of terror, before she finished you off.

The sound of the chair disturbed you again, along with the slow walk of those heels, along with that lavender scent that was getting closer, as well as soft hands that lifted your chin.

“I don't scare you,” she whispered, standing too close to you. You shook your head. “You ran away as soon as you found out who I was. You're full of contractions.”

“I was surprised, that's all,” you said, gently moving your head so her hand would move away from you and stop making you nervous. “I know you're going to say no, and that you'll finish me off right now. After all, I'm useless.”

“Are you a fortune teller?” -she asked in a mocking tone, walking away from you again.

“I was never good at being a clairvoyant,” you joked easily, letting a way of being that you had and never brought to light speak for you in the last moments of your life.

Surprisingly, a soft laugh came from the lady, a charming laugh that made you gain even more confidence.

“Sei divertente, mm?”

You shook your head, not understanding the words, breathing nervously, waiting for an end that seemed to never want to come.

“She said you're funny,” Angie whispered, climbing up your body again. The change in the doll's attitude was quite... Disturbing.

“It's okay,” Lady Beneviento whispered, after a few moments of tense silence. Little by little, you got used to that.

“What?” you asked confused, blinking repeatedly.

“Stay with me, then,” she finally said in a tone you didn't know how to interpret. “But it won't be free. You'll have to help me with my tasks.”

“I'll do what I can,” you said excitedly, seeing a light that you didn't know could illuminate the dark passage of death you had begun to walk through it. “Th, thank you, Lady Beneviento, thank you...”

“Ugh, you're so annoying,” she complained, sighing amused. “Call me Donna.”

So, by a horrible coincidence, your life changed. After losing everything, you found yourself on an uncertain path, in a strange place, with a strange woman. Yes, you knew who she was, you knew what she did, what she was capable of doing, but for some reason, you didn't find any danger beyond your problems.

You were clumsy, you constantly tripped and you always needed someone's help to get back to what was already your room. Normally, it was Angie who took care of that. That sinister puppet seemed to generate a strange sympathy for you.

The days, the weeks passed.

You weren't uncomfortable, you felt fine, the opposite of what you thought. Donna Beneviento, terrible Lord, fears maker, was a kind woman in her own way, elegant, cultured, who taught you a lot of things, who helped you stop being the clumsy girl you were.

Everything seemed to be going well, even too well, even at night, when you could dream, when you could see something in your mind, she started to appear, that lady in black who laughed shyly, who taught you Italian and things about plants.

Thinking about her was quite common in your moments alone.

“Okay, to the right now,” Angie told you, standing on your shoulder, guiding you through the basement. You, with your hands outstretched, obeyed, in a usual exercise of recognition of the old mansion.

“Right…” you whispered, touching the rickety wall with your hands and guiding yourself with your hand resting on it.

“A little more, just a little more,” the doll told you. “Watch out!” she squealed when your body collided with a wall again, for the fifth time that day.

“Angie…” you sighed, rubbing your forehead, tired of the puppet's vague instructions.

“Hey, I'm being good,” she protested, comically hitting your shoulder. “Donna asked me to be good to you and I am.”

“Did Donna ask you?” you asked curiously, with an involuntary smile, thinking that, just as you suspected, the lady was looking out for you.

“Yes, so help me, blind girl,” she said in a mocking tone. “Okay, there, there, in front of you, can you see it?”

“Of course I can’t,” you said sighing annoyed.

“Oh, yes, sure,” Angie said, regretful. “Go ahead, walk forward and you will find the two doors.”

You reluctantly complied, finally finding the workshop doors.

“Well, you did it!” the doll squealed, victorious. “Look, Donna, the silly girl has arrived at the workshop!”

You couldn’t see it, but from the lavender, you knew the lady in black was there, working on her dolls, as usual.

“Yes, thanks to Angie,” you said amused, extending your hands, which were picked up by the soft, gentle hand of Donna, who gently pulled you along.

“Did you hear that, Donna? Thanks to me,” the doll said, in a proud voice. Again, you heard that adorable laugh from the Lord as she guided you to a nearby chair. “What are you doing with that on?”

You frowned, not knowing what she meant.

“Angie, shut up,” the lady protested, sitting next to you, putting a hand on your leg to make sure you were okay, guiding you to check that there was a table in front of you.

“Shut up? You're stupid, Donna, what is the veil for? She's blind,” the doll sang.

“A veil?” you asked, thinking back. Yes, you remembered the lady always covered her face with a black cloth, dark, dark as everyone said it was her soul.

Curious, you raised your hand where you thought the woman in black was, touching with your fingers that black cloth that Angie spoke of.

“Don't touch me,” she said in a sinister voice, grabbing your wrists tightly and suddenly lowering them. You stepped back.

“I'm sorry,” you apologized confused.

“Don’t be,” she said, turning around, working on her dolls again. You couldn't, you couldn't help but ask.

“Why are you covering your face?”

“Why are you blind?” Donna asked back, with a thick accent that betrayed her nervousness and anger at your impudence.

“Well…” you sighed, moved by the memories. “When I was eight I got very sick and… Well, I managed to recover but… I couldn't see again,” you explained with your head down. She sighed, annoyed again, with the noises of the sewing machine stopping.

“Do you know what a rhetorical question is?” she asked mockingly, with a fake laugh.

You smiled amused, nodding.

“I'm not offended by you asking me about my blindness, even if it was a rhetorical question,” you said in a soft voice, running your hands over the table, trying to imagine what was on top of it. “You shouldn't cover yourself, I can't see you.”

“How lucky,” Donna sighed, sadly, but ironically.

“Why do you say so?” you asked again, letting yourself be carried away by curiosity.

“Listen, (Y/N), I don't feel like talking about it, and even less with a gossipy girl like you,” she told you sternly, her voice shaking.

“I know how to keep a secret. I can't talk about what I can't see,” you said amused, taking a risk again, knowing that this was the only way to make Donna be honest with you, to speak from the bottom of her soul. You had proven it several times.

“Right in the point, Don...!” the doll screamed, silenced by something black falling on her head, and which she fought against, in a comical way, you thought. “Hey!”

“Are you happy now?” the lady asked furiously. The black no longer reached her blurry head. You smiled, concentrating to make out something. You didn't manage it, you never would.

Amused, you shrugged.

Donna sighed, as if defeated by your insistence, staying still for a moment.

“When I was little, I fell while running with scissors and lost my right eye,” she explained, without you asking her to.

“Oh, I'm, I'm sorry,” you said hastily, noticing the discomfort of the lady in black, but letting her speak.

“All the children in the village laughed at me, they said I was a monster,” she said quietly, with a nervous sob. “I stopped going out of the house, talking to people…”

“That's horrible,” you said nervously, playing with what looked like a paintbrush on the table.

“Mm,” she murmured, leaning back in the chair. “It's the past.”

“I don't think it's a good enough reason to hide your face,” you said, shaking your head. “I'm sure my eyes are much scarier.”

“Nonsense, they're beautiful,” she whispered quietly, with a different voice, causing you to smile and a burn in your cheeks.

“Thanks, I guess I must trust your word,” you said embarrassed by the compliment. “But at least you were able to get revenge on them, right? When, when Mother Miranda adopted you.”

“She only made it worse!” she suddenly shrieked, kicking the ground again, losing her mind.

You recoiled in fear.

“She, she only made it worse… Now I… I’m, I’m…” she said nervously, trying to calm herself down.

You, still scared but determined, reached out your hand to that black shadow, finding soft skin and soft lips on your way.

“Hey, don’t… Don’t…” she protested, without moving, not preventing your hands from running over her face, exploring her skin.

Your brow furrowed when you found a bulging deformity on the right side of her face, making her gasp nervously. Despite that, you didn't feel anything that made you think her words were true.

“I don't see any monsters here,” you whispered, losing yourself in your caresses, running over the skin of the lady in black without her stopping you.

“You don't see anything, (Y/N),” she sobbed at the same time you noticed a tear on your hand, which hers rested on it, lowering it slowly.

“Yes, I see your soul,” you said in a sweet voice, moving away, breathing calmly, with a smile. “And it’s beautiful.”

Donna stammered confused, trembling, without letting your hand go.

Breathing with difficulty, she brought her other hand to your cheek, comforting you with erratic caresses while her body moved towards yours, while the lavender was much more intense until you could feel her breath very close to you.

You closed your eyes, enjoying those caresses, the subtle touch of her lips against yours, which soon ceased to be that subtle.

A kiss, your first kiss came to your lips, the soft caresses of a kiss of love, a soft, slow, fearful one. You returned it, you kissed her, you kissed those lips that until then had been hidden, you let yourself be carried away by her movements, by that unexpected act.

She pulled away after a few perfect moments, ones that made you sigh, and keep a smile.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it,” she said, taking her hand away from your cheek, letting a cold breeze to form between the two of you, one that made you feel terribly sick.

“I'm not sorry,” you said, with tears in your useless eyes, with the soft kisses of her lips still present on yours. “Donna, no one has anyone treated me like you.”

“No one has spoken to me like you,” she whispered, suppressing another sob.

You, erratically, searched for her hand in that black dress, the hand that had previously grabbed you, playing with her fingers, wandering over her body until you caressed her cheek again, until you pulled her back to your lips.

She let herself be drawn into a deeper, more passionate, romantic kiss. You cried with joy, with joy for having found an explanation for those strange feelings, for your eternal thoughts about the lady in black.

“If, if you knew, if you could see me, you would never, ever have done it,” she murmured, cupping your face in her hands, not stopping kissing you, not stopping caressing you.

You smiled again, exploring her body, hugging it, impregnating yourself with her lavender scent.

“If I could see you, I would be even happier,” you said, resting your forehead against hers, letting her arms surround your body, arrange your hair, subtly telling you about her feelings.

“(Y/N) I… I, I like having you with me,” she said shyly, embarrassed.

“I like being with you,” you whispered, playing with her hands, enjoying the softness of her skin, the beauty you knew she had.

“Oh, please, stop it! I'm going to get diabetes! Come on, come on, let her go!” Angie interrupted, pushing Donna away from you in a comical way. You looked for her again with your hands, which she picked up laughing amused.

Thus began a new stage in your life, one full of love.

Donna cared for you even more. She covered you with kisses, caresses, read you stories from her books, walked with you through the woods, always holding your hand, always watching over you. You, for your part, were madly in love, discovering that side of the Lord you didn't know existed, that romantic side, that deep desire to be loved.

Nothing could go better in the life of the blind and clumsy (Y/N). What seemed like a misfortune, became your greatest luck. Your wish was no longer to regain your sight, but to always be with Donna, always.

“Admit it, it hasn't turned out so bad,” you said amused, searching for the bed with your hands, that bed you now shared with her. Donna laughed amused, helping you cover yourself with the sheets.

“You almost cooked just boiling water but I guess you haven't done it that bad,” she whispered amused, kissing you quickly and joining you in bed.

“I'm sure I'll learn to cook as well as you,” you joked, snuggling up to her. The lady laughed again, caressing your hair.

“Mm?” she murmured, fleeing from the erratic sea of ​​kisses with which you covered her every night. “Hey, I'm sure you will, tesoro.”

You sighed, hugging her body again.

“Did you imagine this?” you asked, sinking into her chest, becoming a little melancholic. “You know, being in love with someone like me.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she answered, with a tired sigh.

“Your voice is beautiful… I love it,” you commented, moving playfully on her body. She laughed, shaking her head.

“My voice?” she asked curiously, with her hands tangling in your hair. “Learn to lie.”

“I don't lie,” you protested in a childish way, stealing another kiss from her. “It's the only thing I can tell you without you doubting me, it doesn't matter how many times I tell you that I'm convinced of your beauty.”

Donna sighed, kissing your hair affectionately.

“Do you know what I love?” she asked in a soft voice, the one that made you smile. “Your beautiful face when you smile at me.”

“Mm,” you murmured, writhing in pleasure at hearing those words, at knowing that even someone like you could be beautiful to her. “Donna, I want to make love to you.”

“What?” she asked, startled by your unexpected request. “Uh, I mean… (Y/N)…”

“What's wrong? You don't dare?” you asked, nervous at that reaction. “Is it because I'm blind?”

“No, no, I… Well yes, no, no…” she stammered, getting tense. “It's just that I… I've never…”

“Me neither,” you said, relieved for knowing that was the reason for her fear, and not your problem.

“I see,” she whispered.

“I don't,” you joked amused, climbing clumsily onto her body, with your legs on either side of her hips.

“You spend too much time with Angie,” she said, caressing your cheek but not moving away.

“She's like my guide dog,” you continued joking, biting your lip with hunger, with a desire to love completely.

“I hope she doesn't hear you,” she said, laughing amused, positioning you so you were more comfortable.

“I’ve heard it!” an irritating squeal sounded behind the door and you both laughed amused.

“Donna, please... I want, I want to love you...” you begged, radically changing the subject, insisting on your desire.

“I...” she murmured shyly, resting her hands on your waist, something that excited you quite a bit. “It's, it's okay.”

The kisses came, the caresses increased their intensity, their journey. It was a fiery dance, wild kisses that traveled beyond your lips, down your neck, down your chest…

The clothes got in the way and you got rid of yours. Donna did the same, still adoring you, showering you with praise for something you couldn't see, because of the beauty she claimed you had. Gasps escaped from your lips, from hers.

The movements of your hips found a stable rhythm when your naked bodies danced, rubbing against each other.

You wouldn't know how to describe those emotions, those sensations of being able to touch her, of feeling that you were inside of her, that you were just one, just a mass of flesh in love.

Your hands danced happily over her body, hers over yours, inside you. The kisses softened the obscenity of the wet sounds that covered the room, kisses that were less and less innocent, that savored your arousal, that fed your uncontrollable desire.

You couldn't be able to know how long that act of love lasted, but you didn't want to either, you only cared about what you felt, what you touched, what you sensed... Donna and you, you and Donna, there was nothing else, no clothes, no fear, no trembling, just your two naked bodies dancing in unison, a romantic, passionate and lustful dance.

“Are you okay?” the lady asked, when the ecstasy ended, when your two bodies arched together. You nodded, searching for her bare chest, letting your head sink into it again.

“Yes, better than ever,” you whispered, kissing her soft skin, annoyed by so much concern.

“There's something I haven't told you yet and... I think, I think I should do it now,” Donna whispered, caressing you affectionately, calming your nervous breathing. “I, I love you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, Donna,” you said, excited by everything that had happened, by all the things that were to come. “I love you too. You, you have illuminated my darkness...”

[sad-girl-hours23]

Thanks for the ask! Idk why but this took me approximately a billion years to write. I hope you don't hate it :)

Buck carries a vase of flowers into Tommy’s hospital room and sets them on the table in front of the window amongst the other bouquets and Get Well Soon cards. “If you get any more flowers, you’re going to need a bigger room.” He pauses for an indulgent chuckle that never comes. “I brought Heliotropes today. They’re your favorite shade of purple, like the ones you used to buy me.” Buck looks out the window and swallows harshly. “You know, I thought it was funny the first few times you bought me your favorite flowers. Until I learned the meaning of the name: sun-turning.” Buck wipes the tears from his eyes. “You always said that looking at me was like looking at the sun.” Quieter, Buck says, “maybe that’s why you walked away.” 

He sits in the chair beside Tommy’s bed. “I’ve missed those flowers these past few months; the color it added to my kitchen, the cherry pie smell. I almost bought some for myself, but do you know what I realized? I never bought you flowers—not once in our six months together. I’m not sure you know how much I care about you and I don’t blame you. Anyway, I didn’t buy the flowers, but I have gotten really good at baking, so my kitchen does smell like cherry pie again. It’s a shitty consolation prize.”

Buck takes Tommy’s hand in his. It hurts to see him this way—fragile and lifeless—but he’s still here. He’s still alive and there’s nowhere else Buck would rather be. “I hope you can hear me. I hope you’ve been able to hear me these last four days. And not just me, you’ve had a lot of visitors. I bought a guest book for everyone to sign.” Buck laughs. “Weird, I know, but I wanted you to have a reminder of all the people who are here for you, how many people love you.”

He squeezes Tommy’s hand. “The doctors say everything is healing as it should. That it’s up to you now. I’ve been there. Maybe you’re having a coma dream like I did—one where your mom is still alive and your dad isn’t an asshole and you have a boyfriend who buys you flowers and anniversary gifts and tells you he loves you and you’re captain of your firehouse and you have everything you’ve ever wanted.” 

Buck takes a deep breath. “However good you think you have it in there, it’s not real. You have to wake up, Tommy, because the world is darker without you. It turns out, it’s you that's the sun. I know it’s selfish, I know you may never give me a second chance, but I need you to wake up so I can buy you flowers and tell you I love you anyway.”

Buck lays his head on the hospital bed, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. “Please come back to me.”

Tommy’s fingers twitch against his palm.

[mimuta-muta]

A SCARRED HEART // a secret & last life artpiece, minific, and headcanon

dedicated to those desertduo scar-focused angst enojyers 🍷 THIS IS FOR YOU GUYS!! I LOVE YALL!!! I AM YOU. I AM YOU ALL. im going insane anyways,

first tumblr post i think? dropping a more refined version of my secret life / last life scar headcanon/art/minific from twt here, praying that someone as insane as me will see it 🙏

[Based off of Last Life and Secret Life, in which Scar was intentionally permakilled by Grian the season prior.

Minific in italics first, followed by official headcanon transcribed & slightly modified from art ^^ taking this much more seriously than i should hehehe

Might make a full fledged fic on Ao3 if this turns out well though!! Hope yall enjoy <3. - mimuta]

- The desert. The betrayal. It all comes back to him in a dream, lucid and laced in sorrow…

And as he awakens from his slumber, he’s left shrouded and alone.

Again.

Perhaps they were a cruel mockery, these “secret”scrolls. A bitter reminder of the contracts he’d never be able to control. Of the friends he’d never be able to keep.

It’s almost as if some god up above had descended from their watchful throne to spit in his face and show him how it should be done.

Or… perhaps they were a sign.

Perhaps, by experience or some strange instinct, or by insight or spite, he took it as such.

And perhaps that’s why he emerged victorious this time around.

Alone, of course, as always.

Alone, but alive.

-

Following the desertduo divorce arcs in Third and Limited Life that end in Scar’s death by Grian’s hand (double life dont count that was the warden), Scar returns to the next season as a cloaked iteration of his self, doomed to insanity and isolation: first in Last Life, and second in Secret Life.

Cloaked Scar/Scarred Heart Scar’s (i cant think of a better name ToT these sound so bad T_T will take suggestions aldbskshxbsk-) “friendship/ally” contracts in Magical Mountain also inadvertently influenced the secret task/contract of sort kinda gimmick in Secret Life, what with the life reward system for tasks and etc.: only this time, people can’t get away without consequence.

Through the tasks given to him in Secret Life, Scar was outcasted as an enemy to all, loyal companion to none. Similarly, the contracts Scar made in Last Life granted him half-assed “allies,” but never a true friend. Like the one who had killed and betrayed him all those years ago. wink wink. wink wink.

Secret Life Scar, being the second version of his cloaked self, retains an “instinct” or like muscle memory but.. idk how to describe it- hazy underlying memories from Last Life scar, and later realizes this w/ the winner’s theory (or whichever hc out there that says that they remember past seasons upon winning) *kaboom*

TLDR: desert duo divorce arc so bad it results in grian killing scar, and scar’s left as a reclusive cloaked maniac in last life, returns as same maniac in secret life and learns from his mistakes, and wins secret life through nuances left over from last life 💪💪 or something or other

ALSO//side headcanons::

grian’s life given in servitutde to scar + scars life given to grian in 3rd life somehow influenced their soulbind in double life- although this may not be as solid as a hc due to the fact scar was giving hearts away like crazy moneys in last life iirc… buuut it kinda still works either way

lilacs and poppies on scars skin, yet another callback, another reminder of his loneliness, of the desert, of his death, of the desert, of the desert, of the desert, of the desert, of the dese-

if scar dies to grian in wild life i blame it on secret scar being left alive and he cant return as hes permanently stuck in secret life this crap is staying canon to me no matter what trust 🧍‍♂️

theres a similarity in appearance between scar and the secret keeper (hood) ik its watcher evo stuff,,, but… do with thatbwhat you will hehe—

oooh bou that was a lot :,) if you made it to the end, thanks for reading through all of this!! im totally normal!!! please like or whatever the equivalent is and feel free to leave comments or whatever im desperate for traffic interaction 🧎🧎🧎 i might take a bit to respond but KSBDKDBSKSBS

i shall be off to do ap bio work now before i fail my test tmrw WOOOOOO thanks again for reading this far if you have :Df and i hope you have a wonderful dayyyyy <33333

[xxlady-lunaxx]

your fav kamado siblings and giyuu anon here! ill sign off w a purple heart from now on haha 💜

i have another request! setting and context up to you, just giving you some tags!

hurt/comfort (giyuu gets the comfort), fluff, nightmares, literal sleeping together! :) im sorry cant stop thinking about those three 💜

yaay ! ooh okay, purple anon then <3 (i took so long to write this that i js realized it prolly seemed random to any1 else that youre 💜 anon 😭 IM SORRY) it's nice to see you again :D and of course :O i'll do my best cw! nightmares?? idk just a little panicky at the beginning featuring giyuu and his forcefully adopted siblings, and no particular timeline lmfao... also this is short argh

It must be strange for a Hashira to get nightmares. But then again, they had all faced so many horrors, it would be even more pecuilar if they didn't experience them. Even so, Giyuu felt childish. Waking up in a pool of cold sweat, mind racing with the flashes of blood and deattached limbs strewn about. His chest heaved as he desperately drew in air, trying to catch his breath. He pressed a hand to his fast-beating heart, pushing gently, trying to control it. He hated it. He hated the nights when he was given a break from his duties to rest. It seemed to always end up like this.

As he slowly lowered himself back down, his dream came back to him in full force and replayed in his mind, no matter how much he tried to force it away. Panic rose in him again and he shot back up, almost toppling out of the bed, his arm hitting the wooden floor loudly. He flinched, though he was glad for it as it distracted his thoughts from his dream and he focused on making sure he hadn't broken his wrist (which, of course, he hadn't, but it was a better thought than the ones that threatened to take over).

There was a pattering of footsteps and he tensed, hand straying to the katana that sat by his futon. Then Tanjiro and Nezuko entered the room and he relaxed slightly. He had nearly forgotten.

They were staying over at his house tonight, having been too far from any Wisteria Houses after Tanjiro's mission. They must've heard Giyuu's distress because now they were all bunched up under his blanket, snuggling closer to him. Giyuu decided to let them stay, finding the warmth of their presence comforting.

"Are you okay, Giyuu-san?" Tanjiro asked quietly, after everyone had adjusted.

Giyuu nodded slowly. "Ye-ep," he mumbled, internally slapping himself at the crack in his voice.

"We heard you fall, or something, and got worried. Also it was dreadfully cold alone," Tanjiro hummed, scooting closer and wrapping his arms tightly around Giyuu without a care in the world.

Momentarily, Giyuu tensed, unsure how to take this sudden bit of affection. Yes, they had abruptly slipped into his bed, but he wasn't used to this, it had been so long. He didn't even realize he was crying until Nezuko's sillhouette appeared above him as she gazed at him, eyes tense with worry and scrubbing at his cheeks with the sleeve of her kimono. Giyuu flushed, embarrassed. In his shock, he must've let down his guard. God, he had to pull himself together!

Tanjiro, noticing now, tightened the embrace, burying his head in Giyuu's chest. "Don't cry, Giyuu-san. Do you want me to sing you a song? I used to sing lullabies for my younger siblings," he said, his words muffled by fabric.

Giyuu gave a start. A lullaby? "No... No, I'm okay," he said, voice thick. He cleared his throat several times, tugging Nezuko back down and wrapping and arm around her almost protectively. "It's okay."

Tanjiro's head popped back up to look at him. "You sure? It's not bothering us, if that's what-"

"No," Giyuu repeated, nudging him back down. "I'm fine. I'm sorry."

Tanjiro frowned slightly but settled back under the covers. "Okay. Did something happen earlier? Or did you just hit something?" he asked, after a moment of silence.

"I had a... dream. And I sat up too quickly and... yeah," Giyuu said, trailing off. He didn't really want Tanjiro to know him in his weak moments. This was embarrassing enough.

"Was it a nightmare?" Tanjiro asked.

Giyuu hesitated before answering. Tanjiro didn't sound mocking, at least. Well, yeah, he was Tanjiro... but still. "You can call it that, I suppose," he mumbled, tucking his chin down to his chest.

Nezuko, who had fallen asleep at some point, nuzzled closer, her form shrinking slightly and fitting into Giyuu's arm like a little bundle. A smile softened Giyuu's lips, though nobody could see it, and he held her close, wishing he had met the Kamados in any other circumstance.

"It's okay to have nightmares," Tanjiro said quietly, as if sensing Giyuu's reluctance. "I have them too, sometimes. Everyone has them and being a Demon Slayer basically guarantees nightmares—it's like it comes as part of the job. So don't feel bad!"

Giyuu mulled on this. It was probably true. Nevertheless, he still felt like shit about it. If he was a so-called Hashira, shouldn't he be able to fend off something as stupid as nightmares?

"Okay," he said anyway, wanting to please Tanjiro. he paused, a thought occurring to him. "How often do you have them?"

Tanjiro shifted, not answering for a minute. "It's not really... consistent? They just come and go," he said quietly, reaching over Giyuu to cup Nezuko's hand in his own.

"Oh." Giyuu glanced down. Tanjiro's eyes were closed but he was still awake, slowly tilting to the edge of sleep. "If you... want to talk about them? You can come to me. If you want."

Tanjiro's eyes opened by a breath and he smiled at Giyuu's vague direction. "Thank you, Giyuu-san. You can talk to me too. About anything," he murmured, closing his eyes again.

Giyuu lifted his hand, running it through Tanjiro's short hair. "Okay," he said again, closing his own eyes and resting back against the pillow.

Their quiet breaths became the only sound in the tranquility of the room, slowly pacing into sleep. This would become almost a habit, talking quietly to one another when Tanjiro visited until the conversation lulled into a gentle slumber—the warmth of other presence comforting them until they could finally relax.

I'm so bad at endings, it's not even funny anymore

[dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd]

Blur The Lines

Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1 - Break-In

Work Summary: Y/n is a struggling artist living in Gotham and stuck in an office job that she absolutely hates. Her dull life gets a spark of excitement when the Joker breaks into her apartment. Over time his stay becomes more voluntary and Y/n develops a connection with the clown. In exchange for a place of safety, Joker agrees to give her some tips that will help boost her art career. But eventually, Y/n realizes she may be getting into more than she signed up for.

Chapter Summary: It's a typical boring day at the office for Y/n. She returns home once again to the frustrations of her failing dreams. As she tries to distract herself and make something of yet another unfinished drawing, a certain someone decides to break into her apartment.

Author's Note: So I'm starting a new fic! I'm really excited for this one. I've been thinking of doing a reader insert fic for several months now. My goal here is to write a more in-character or darker Joker than I usually do and a more developed MC instead of just another Mary Sue. She is heavily inspired by me as I'm kinda writing with myself in mind but anyone can read it and place themselves in the story. Idk if there will be any smut or implied smut in here. I'm still not entirely comfortable with writing that yet. So if there is any here's your warning. I'm done yapping now, enjoy the first chapter!

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @furisodespirit @lightsabergirl @gothic-aesthetic-gal

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know! <3

Next Chapter >

A cool autumn breeze ruffled your hair as you left the office building with a defeated sigh. You began the monotonous trek back home, holding a thick stack of paperwork and other work related crap. Your boss just threw it on you at the last second. The joke was him, you weren’t actually gonna do it.

Nope. He needed to realize you had a life outside of work. A simple one, but still a life. You only carried the stack out with you for appearances. Honestly you could care less if you were fired. It was only a matter of time before you quit anyway. This was not the life you wanted. 

Every day it was the same thing. Wake up early, go to work in an office all day, waste hours of your time, go back home to a shitty apartment, yearn for a better life, go to bed, and repeat the next day. Much to your relief you were off on the weekends. You treasured those days and used them to destress and help yourself feel alive again. It was hard to believe how draining something as simple as an office job could be. 

You often found yourself reminiscing on the old days when you were a little girl growing up in your small town. You lived in a modest house on a lively farm. Your father raised cows and chickens and grew numerous crops. Your mother was a local school teacher. They were loving parents for the most part. They had their evident flaws but what parents didn’t?

You did well in school and you rarely got into trouble. They were difficult to make, but you had a few friends. You adopted many stray cats and took care of them. Your dad let you keep so many because they were good for keeping mice out of the barn. 

Life was plain and honestly quite boring. As a young girl you had big dreams. You longed to move away and start a new life somewhere else. Home would always be home but it would never satisfy you. 

Your escape from it all was art. You had been drawing since you were old enough to pick up a crayon. As you grew older, art became more than just a hobby. When you picked up a pencil or a paintbrush, you felt free. Putting your deepest thoughts and opinions to page was so liberating, especially when a lot of times you couldn’t outwardly express those things. 

Your high school art teacher said you could go places, and you believed him. An art career was something you always wanted. With his encouragement and a few others, you decided to go for it. So after graduating, you spent a few years figuring things out. As a backup plan you went to a community college for a 2 year degree and successfully obtained it. Then with enough money saved up, you moved to Gotham City when you were 21 in hopes of becoming a full time artist.

Your parents thought you were stupid. Your friends laughed at you. They all told you over and over it wouldn’t work out. Maybe they were right. You found out pretty quickly that Gotham’s art scene was super competitive. It was nearly impossible for a nobody from the middle of nowhere like you to get noticed. But you wouldn’t give up. Not yet.

Obviously you needed money to survive and fund your projects. Supplies weren’t always cheap. Hell, it cost money for you to even enter certain art galleries and contests. You also knew that your art career of course wouldn’t take off right away, so you were forced to look for work. 

That’s when you stumbled across an office job in the Downtown area. It paid just enough for you to afford rent and groceries, along with a little extra to set aside for art related things. You mostly answered calls, filled out paperwork, and scheduled things for your boss. You were a receptionist or secretary of some sort. You hoped that you wouldn’t be doing this for very long and your art would gain some traction by now, but no such luck.

You came to Gotham 2 years ago and still nothing changed. You were still stuck in your cramped apartment and dead end job. It was hopeless, but something in you was driving you to keep trying, to prove everyone back home wrong. 

Rounding the last corner, your apartment building came into view. You sighed as you pushed the double doors open and entered the lobby. You passed the front desk where your landlord was reading the paper and waved to him wearily. “Hey, Jimmy.”

“Hey, Y/n. Long day?”

“Yep.”

You dug your keys out of your pocket and unlocked your mail slot after scanning the rows. Nothing but junk mail. You threw it away in a nearby trash can and started towards the stairs with a tired sigh. It wasn’t too long of a walk, but trudging up four flights of stairs everyday was not something you looked forward to. 

Soon you reached the fourth floor and walked down the hall until you reached apartment 405, your humble abode. You unlocked the door and entered with an exhale of relief, discarding the heavy stack of paperwork on the kitchen table. You wouldn’t think anything of it for the rest of the night and it would sit there until the next morning when you had to go back to work.

Flipping on the lights, you moved into your bedroom and changed out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. You picked out your usual sweatshirt and shorts combo and threw it on. Once dressed, you grabbed your sketchbook off of your dresser and returned to the living room. You set the sketchbook down on the couch before going to the kitchen and heating up some water to make Cup Noodles with. It wasn’t the healthiest meal, but it was cheap and good enough for you. If you ever got rich off of your art, you could start eating healthier then.

Cup Noodles in hand, you grabbed your sketching pencils from your art desk and plopped down on the couch to finish up your current ‘work in progress’. You slurped up the noodles as you examined what was already on the page and tried to figure out what to do with it. Something about it just wasn’t looking right.

You grabbed the remote and switched on the TV for background noise. The evening news was on. As you set to work on the drawing, you heard a little bit of what the reporters were saying. The cops were after someone on the run but you didn’t catch who or where. It didn’t surprise you. This was Gotham after all.

You erased what you originally had on the page with a frown. The proportions just looked so off. Maybe your second attempt would be better. You tried to remind yourself that everything in your sketchbook was just practice. Some of it might get put to canvas or inspire a future project and some of it might not. Still, every time something didn’t come together right away you felt like a failure. You’d start to think that maybe you really weren’t good enough and that was why this art career wasn’t working out.

At this point you screwed up the second attempt and moved on to your third. You were growing increasingly annoyed at both the drawing and yourself. Nothing you did was fixing it. With an exasperated sigh, you started erasing yet again.

You paused when you heard a faint tapping on your window. You looked up at the sound, but seeing nothing there, you paid it no mind and continued to erase furiously at the drawing. It ripped at how forceful you were and you nearly screamed in rage. You took a deep breath and crumpled up the paper. The original drawing just wasn’t working. It was best to start over on a new sheet of paper. Even if this was your fourth attempt.

Some more time passed as you got lost in the drawing process and then you heard the noise again. Louder this time. Something hit the window hard and then the glass started to crack. It dawned on you that someone was trying to break in.

You scoffed. Not on your watch.

You turned the TV off, stood up, and crept cautiously towards the window, baseball bat in hand. With the crime rate as high as it was in Gotham, you kept an arsenal of everyday things to defend yourself with and had a plan in mind just in case a situation like this should happen. 

Intending to simply bash the intruder over the head and scare them away, you pried open the window just as a familiar painted face appeared right in front of you. You screamed and fell backwards. 

There was no way. There was no fucking way. 

The figure crawled through the opening and tumbled right into your apartment. Paralyzed with fear, you watched him sit upright in horror. This was no ordinary thug. This was the Joker. The Joker was in your apartment. 

“Sorry, uh, for the scare, darlin'. I’m kinda in a bit of a pinch here.” He said as he stood up and approached you.

You noticed he had a small limp and his clothes were soaked with blood. His hair was sweaty and wild. Very faintly you could hear his erratic breathing. 

“Wh-What do you want?” You asked, backing away from him. 

He seemed to find your reaction amusing. “Just need a place to stay for a bit until I can get the pigs off my back. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

You were stunned speechless. You could only muster a soft, “You’re injured.”

Joker shrugged. “Yeah. Happens every time. I couldn’t get very far with this leg.”

“So was this apartment building the closest thing to you or…?” You inquired, surprised at your own voice.

“Yep. Nice place ya got here.”

“I-I…I’m not sure how I feel about this.”

“I wasn’t asking you.”

You didn’t like his tone. You took a deep breath and lowered the bat, propping it against the wall. 

“So you just want a place to hide? That’s it?”

“Yep. It’s too risky for me to travel across the city right now. I can’t get to my hideout until the heat dies down.”

“How long are we talking?”

“I don’t really know. At most two weeks.”

“Two weeks?! You can’t just-!” You exclaimed.

Joker threw his hands up. “I said at most.”

“No. You can kindly get the hell out. I won’t call the cops if you just go.”

Joker smirked and advanced towards you slowly, lifting his coat to reveal a hidden pistol. “Orrrr…you can kindly shut up and let me stay here because I’m the man with a gun.”

You froze at the sight of the gun and contemplated what to do, your mind running a mile a minute. Your shoulders slumped as you realized the position you were in. It was best to just go along with what he said.

You sighed, “I don’t really have a choice here, do I?”

When you looked back up, Joker wasn’t there. He lost interest in talking to you and wandered into the kitchen. You stared at the clown in disbelief. The fact that he was being so nonchalant and inviting himself into a stranger’s home baffled you. Man, the nerve of this guy.

You scampered after him and against your better judgement grabbed his arm to confront him. He whipped around to face you, his dark eyes boring into yours.

You gulped. “Shouldn’t we, uh, treat your wounds first?”

Joker lightened his expression. “Mhm. That would be helpful.”

You led him into your bathroom and gestured for him to sit on the toilet. He sat down without a word and stared up at you. You nervously grabbed a first aid kit from your cabinet.

“I don’t have much but I’ll make do with what I can. Where are you hurt?”

Joker rolled up his pants leg and pointed to a deep gash across his calf. It was swollen red and oozing blood. You had to turn your head for a second. When your stomach stopped lurching, you knelt down in front of him while still maintaining a safe distance.

“Anywhere else?”

Joker grinned and pointed towards his left arm. “Just a little graze on my shoulder. They missed me. We should probably focus on the bigger one right now.”

You nodded. “Okay, uh… I guess I should clean it first?”

Joker made no reply and just kept staring at you. You frowned. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, man. How do you usually do this?”

“You clean it first. That’s kinda obvious, darlin’.” Joker muttered. 

“Oh I’m sorry. I don’t get into police shootouts on a regular basis.” You spat. 

Joker snickered. “Feisty, aren’t ya?” 

You rolled your eyes and got to work. You took an alcohol wipe and disinfected the wound, trying to be gentle because you knew it would probably sting. To your surprise Joker didn’t even flinch. Sensing he wasn’t going to mind, you continued on at a quicker pace and wiped away the blood, patting it dry with a nearby towel. 

Next you grabbed some gauze from the kit and wrapped it around his calf to bandage the gash. You could practically feel Joker staring down at you as you worked. This was crazy. You were treating the Joker’s wounds and letting him stay in your apartment. He did force you, but still, he was an extremely dangerous man to have in your home. Was he going to kill you? Heh, you hated to say it but maybe that was a good thing. He’d put you out of your misery. 

You shook off that thought. No, y/n, that isn’t a good thing. Once you’re dead it’s over. If you stay alive, at least you still have a chance. You didn’t come this far to give up. He’s not going to kill you. You’re going to make sure of it.

Joker’s gruff voice startled you out of your daze. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“Well y/n, you might not like these circumstances but it’s really helping me out. So, uh, thanks I guess.”

“I’m literally only doing this because you threatened me.” You huffed.

Joker chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“Stay still. I can’t bandage it right if you keep moving.”

You didn’t catch the fiery glimmer of anger flash across Joker’s eyes at being bossed around. Regardless he listened to you and kept his legs still as you cut off the remaining gauze and tied the bandage in place.

“There. Now let’s take care of your shoulder. Can you uh…?” You gestured to his suit.

Joker yanked off his purple coat with a sly smirk. “Tsk. You just met me, y/n. Want my clothes off already?”

You turned beet red. “No! Ugh, that’s not what I meant. Just take off your shirt enough that I can bandage up your shoulder.”

Joker wheezed. “Alright, alright. I’m kidding.”

You didn’t find him one bit funny. Some clown he was. 

Joker finally got his shirt pulled down so you could treat the graze on his shoulder. You repeated the same process as you did for his calf and bandaged it accordingly. Joker fixed his shirt back and left his coat off, draping it over his shoulder.

You put the medical kit back where it belonged and started out the door towards the living room again. Joker stood up from the toilet and followed you, still limping a bit. He sat down on the couch and you sat down at your art desk across the room, unsure of what else to do but sit down. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you realized you left your sketchbook on the couch and it was still open. You hated when someone looked through your sketchbook without asking. It was so embarrassing. Flashbacks to high school replayed in your head. You silently prayed Joker wouldn’t notice, but it was too late. He picked it up and flipped through the pages curiously. Did he not have any understanding of privacy?!

“What’s this?” He asked, examining a page.

“It’s my sketchbook. I’m an artist. Well, sort of…” You answered quietly.

Joker said nothing and continued flipping through the pages.

“Can you not? Please?” You tried not to sound desperate.

Joker stopped and looked up at you as if he sensed your distress. “Why? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

You walked across the room and shut the book, taking it out of his hands. “I just don’t like people looking through my sketchbook. I don’t know. It’s just personal.”

“Alright then. I, uh, assume art is just a hobby. What do you do for work?”

“I have an office job. I don’t really know what my title is. Receptionist? Secretary? Assistant? Something like that.”

“Oh. Sounds boring.”

“It is. I hate it. I’d rather be more of a professional artist but nobody takes me seriously.”

“Why?”

“Beats me. I guess those rich pricks would rather see a few slathers of paint on a canvas instead of actual art. But hey, I won’t judge the abstract. Some of it is actually meaningful.”

Joker laughed. “Yeah. One time I tried to rob a featured gallery in an art museum and ended up leaving with nothing because everything was just so tasteless. It was said to be worth thousands of dollars but I didn’t waste my time on it. Most of today’s modern ‘art’ is just crap.”

“I mean, it’s not all bad. It’s just so hard to get noticed. The reason that kind of art is so valued is because it’s made by influential rich people who get bored one day and decide to make a painting.”

“Well put.”

You blinked for a second and processed the story he just told you. He described robbing a museum as if it was the most normal thing in the world, like grocery shopping. It brought you back to reality and reminded you who you were in the room with. You held back a shiver.

“Uh, why exactly were you running from the cops?” You asked.

“Well, I just broke out of Arkham last week so I guess they were on high alert. My dumb ass decided to stage another heist because I needed some funds instead of waiting a little longer. Somebody tipped them off that we were going to be there and they showed up right as we tried to leave. Then the chase ensued and that’s when I ended up here.”

You shook your head. This was actually happening. A psycho killer clown was sitting in your living room and telling you about his failed bank heist. Why did it have to be you and not the annoying neighbor who lived right beside you? “I still don’t understand something. Out of the rows of windows, why did you pick mine?”

“It looked like there were no lights on. I thought no one was home.”

“Okay, but why the 4th floor?”

“I dunno. I needed to get up high to see what was going on around me and then I decided the best thing to do right then was to hide in one of the apartments so I just picked a random one.”

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath. You really had the worst luck ever.

“As much as I’d love to sit and chat, I’ve had a really long day and I need to catch some sleep. So I’ll be in my room.” You announced and started towards your bedroom door.

“Fine by me. You do what you gotta do.”

“I really can’t offer you anywhere to sleep besides the couch.”

“That’s alright. I can sleep pretty much anywhere.”

“Oh. Well, I’m going to bed now. So goodnight, um, what should I call you?”

“J is fine.”

“Goodnight, J.”

“Night, Y/n.”

You entered your room and shut the door, leaning against it once inside. You let out a long shaky breath. This night was just so unbelievable. The Joker was in your living room! And you were still alive! And he saw your sketchbook! You cringed, wanting to simply pass away at that thought. In the scheme of things you guessed it didn’t matter that much but it was still embarrassing.

You went to the bathroom inside your room where you treated Joker’s injuries earlier and brushed your teeth. You put up your hair and turned the light off before walking over to your bed and collapsing onto it. 

You were exhausted but for the first hour you found it so difficult to fall asleep. You were completely paranoid. And who wouldn’t be? All you could think about was the madman on the other side of your door who could kill you with his bare hands. 

Would he do it while you slept? And how would he do it? You shuddered at the possibilities. 

All the worrying and speculation only tired you out further. You stayed awake as long as could until your body finally crashed. You dozed off, all thoughts of Joker fleeting as you entered the comforting embrace of sleep. You could deal with him in the morning. Hopefully.

[jikookficsdiarry]

HELLO LOVES!! I'm here to express my deepest love for episode 4. Finally, it has been a long week, and the wait for episode 5 is almost over :)

OFCOURSE I'm gonna begin with

너는 나, 나는 너 🥹

Jikook in the swimming pool, enjoying their time together, getting on with their daily antics was the best thing ever!! The way they played rock, paper scissors under water🥹 CUTIES my goofballs for real!! Also, yes I have the same question as you, why did Kook have to remind minie that the glass was see through?? What kind of mischief was jiminie upto?!!!

Also, umm hello?! My 2015 baby army self would have never survived this. Please I think BT21 took hiatus too seriously. Damn, I used to lose my mind over foreheads...we have come a long way lads.

Also, the ppeuri after the whole ramyeon conversation?! Hello?! Like what was going on?! The way I screamed into my pillow. BYE.

BUBBAS🥹🤍 (the yawning in sync, they are the embodiment of you are me, i am you)...also I felt so bad for tae cause his neck hurt after head banging...I really hope his neck felt so much better when kookie gave him the message🥺

You wanna know the exact moment I said "what in the AO3?"

This right here. I combusted. I smiled, then I teared up and I replayed it 10 times to know if this wasn't a fever dream. It wasn't. It was reality and then I teared up some more. Happy tears I promise🥹🤍

When I first saw this thought the sign was edited🤭 little did I know the universe was trying to give me sign instead.

All the food moments, apart from making me extremely hungry made me realise how much attention kookie pays to minie whilst he is eating. Not only in these episodes but every time kookies ensures jiminie has eaten well🥹 like idk how to explain but it tugs at my heart strings🥹🤍

Also, idk why tae bear didn't join them for snorkelling, but his smile when he looks at kookie and jiminie has my whole heart🥹🤍

I was so happy that my baby caught to fishes!! Look at that adorable boxy smile🥹 my whole heart...oh I miss tae. Okay sorry no more tears.

I usually don't point this out, but omds I could not hold back this time, the SIZE DIFFERENCE!! I know there are so many other moments, but something about kookies hand enveloping jiminie hands and jiminie holding onto kookies thumb....yeah, my heart is doing a triple axle as we speak.

To conclude, I really from the bottom of my heart enjoyed watching this episode. I was struggling health wise last week and this epsiode gave me the energy I needed. I also feel I was more relieved by the fact that Jiminie didn't feel sick anymore and wasn't hurt in any way. I was so happy to see vminkook giggling.🤍 And jikook being so happy in each other's presence. Their moments, the little things they do for each other, I see them🤍 I know there are so many theories and asks about so many moments not only in this episode. I'll reteriate, I am not going to respond to asks that are offensive or not OT7, and I am just trying to enjoy the show, please let me kindly do that🤍

Episode 5 has me already excited. Less than 24 hours!! LESSSGOO!!

Are you sure?! You truly are my serotonin🥹🤍

Thank you.

~ Nel🤍

Please drop a good review for AYS if you can🫶🏻