#so it's fully understandable why they would dip as soon as they could from the situation.

[djsangos]

//who are THESE fresh squids?? (made here)

okay these guys might not get a mention on this blog for a while- if ever- so i'm gonna talk about them now bc i've been rotating them in my mind for a while

these are captain's siblings! the ones they left behind when they were 14 to run away to inkopolis. captain certainly isn't proud of leaving them behind at ALL, in fact the one thing they wish they'd done differently is taking them with them, even if it would've been damn near impossible to take care of 2 younger siblings all on their own away from home when they were already struggling to take care of themself. they have no idea how their siblings fared with their neglectful ass father after they left, but pierce (right) was only a year or 2 younger than them, so they hoped he'd be able to leave soon too- taking harper (left) with him

so yeah harper (left) i think is probably around 16 or 17 now, having been 7 or 8 when captain left. since she was pretty young she didn't really know exactly why they left, and they didn't tell her either, so i'd say she probably resents them for it. she's a hotheaded edgy teen, classic rebel, you know the deal.

and then there's pierce (right), who's around 21 or 22 now, so he would've been 12 or 13 when they left. even if they didn't say a word to him before packing their bags and hopping a train at the asscrack of dawn, he knows exactly why they did. because being a kid and not only growing up, but having to parent your 2 younger siblings in your father's place, is hard. he basically had to take on their role as caretaker of harper when they left, being the second oldest, and that's how he realized. he doesn't resent them exactly, but he does wish they'd at least said goodbye. he's an outwardly chipper guy, and puts on a brave face even at the worst of times.

and they both did eventually get out of that house- pierce didn't leave as soon as he turned 14 like captain did (though cod, he wanted to) but when harper was old enough to be left home alone he got a job and saved up what he could to get himself and his younger sister out of there. and then when harper was 12 and he was 17, he got them both out of there. they might have gone somewhere else first, but i wanna say they probably ended up in splatsville, living in an apartment together with pierce doing what he can to support harper through school, and she does some turfing herself to help with rent and save up her own money so she can get her own place eventually.

i feel like the reason they probably haven't run into captain is that captain lives in inkopolis and only really goes to splatsville to visit rookie, and the last time they saw their siblings, neither of them were fully transformed yet, and they aren't so easy to recognize anymore themself. so if they've happened to pass each other on the street, it'd take more than just a cursory glance to realize just who they're passing. so it could definitely, and likely will, happen eventually. who's to say.

[avonne-writes]

do you think you could do #8 “Who did this to you?” From your reblog. Maybe like In the stalag when Bucky shows up and goes to give Gale a hug but Gale flinches away. Bucky is immediately worried and try’s to get Gale to spill but it doesn’t work. Blah blah blah, Bucky might see Gale interact with a guard and understands why. Idk take it your own way if you want 😅

Thank you for the prompt! 💕 Sorry for only getting to it now. I went with a different take, but I hope you like it!

8. Who did this to you?

After stumbling inside their quarters at Thorpe, Bucky tries to make his way to his bed blindly in the dark. He counts his steps to measure a distance he knows well by now, but the haze of booze makes his brain sluggish, and the numbers get all jumbled up. Nevertheless, he finds the frame of his cot, locates it with fumbling hands, and lets himself sink down on the mattress with a relieved sigh.

Except, it’s not his cot.

He lands on something simultaneously soft and bony, and gets kneed in the ribs so hard for it that he falls on his ass. Groaning, he gives in to gravity and goes limp on the floor.

"John?" Gale whispers somewhere above him. When Bucky grunts in response, one of their other roommates hisses a shut up their way. "What are you doing?"

"Sleeping." Bucky replies. He feels rather comfortable where he is. At least the room isn’t spinning. Down here, nothing wants to crawl back out of his stomach to show him exactly how much whiskey he poured down his throat to wipe their last mission from his memory.

Slim, warm hands pat at Bucky's chest, trying to locate his shoulders in the dark. When they find a good place to grip and try to pull Bucky up, Bucky turns his head and nips at Gale’s wrist.

"Come on, you big loony." Gale murmurs, completely ignoring the fact that Bucky's mouth is full of the cotton of his shirt. His teeth dig into Gale's arm. Out of curiosity, Bucky bites down harder, until Gale yanks his arm away with an annoyed huff.

"Son of a bitch." He swears under his breath, but a moment later, his hands return. They hook under Bucky's armpits to pull him up by force. "Up. On your feet, Major."

"Don’t want to." Bucky whines.

As soon as Gale gets him vertical, he starts moving to lie right back down, and finds the bed Gale has just vacated. It’s still warm from Gale’s body. He sinks into that heat with a smile, squirming until the dip Gale's body left in the mattress fits his own. Like coming home. His drunken mind imagines it would be just as comforting to climb inside Gale's body. To be one with him. Always welcome, always safe.

"All right." Gale's tired exhale brushes Bucky's ear as Gale leans over him and tugs the blanket out from under his body to drape it over him. Tucking him in like his mama would've. Or a wife.

"Should've left me on the floor." Bucky sniffs. The urge to cry makes his throat tight, but he holds it back. He’s a man, damn it.

"What kind of best friend would that make me, huh?" Gale murmurs softly. He’s so close still. His hands are on Bucky’s back and arm. He should lean in for a goodnight kiss, Bucky thinks. "Go to sleep, Bucky."

"'S your bed."

"You can borrow it tonight."

Fingers run through Bucky’s curls, a ghost of a touch, then there's nothing. Bucky turns his head into Gale's pillow because it smells like him. He falls asleep in a minute.

-

Morning arrives with a dull, heavy pain behind Bucky's eyes that he welcomes like an old friend. Most fellas get cranky when they're hungover, but it just makes Bucky feel alive. It seems as if fewer and fewer things do. Drinking. Singing, dancing, flirting. Gale.

Speaking of - Bucky should find him. Yes, that sounds like the perfect hangover cure. Getting teased by his best friend.

Still fully-clothed and wearing his boots, Bucky climbs out of bed - Gale's bed, he notes, sifting through his blurry memories from last night and coming up blank when he tries to explain it. He figures he might have tried to get in beside Gale, who thought it was better to just surrender his cot. Bucky ought'a thank him for not kicking him out to sleep on the floor.

He finds Gale by the small sink they all share, just finishing up with shaving. He’s stripped down to his undershirt and his hair is not yet slicked back with product but falls over his forehead in soft bangs. It makes him look younger. Pretty, even, if Bucky were being honest. He tries not to be though. Wouldn’t do him any good.

Grinning with all his charm, he walks up to Gale and leans on the wall beside him, his free hand in his pocket. "Hey, Buck."

"Morning." Gale says without looking away from the mirror, but there’s a small smile in the corner of his lips as he slides the blade over his skin.

Bucky has the strangest urge to offer to do the last few swipes for him. "Thanks for the bed."

"You’re welcome." Gale's voice is amused. Although there's a shadow of exhaustion under his eyes, he looks happy, so Bucky feels safe to joke around a bit.

When Gale rinses the blade and starts wiping his face, Bucky nudges him with his foot. In return, Gale flicks water at him, which tickles Bucky into a short laugh. For the first time this morning, Gale's blue eyes meet his and give him a playful look.

"You look like that chow they used to feed us back in Texas." There it is. The teasing.

Bucky grins. "Delicious, you mean?"

For a moment that steals Bucky's breath away, Gale just holds his gaze, but then he turns back to the mirror to comb his hair. "Not the word I'd use."

That's when Bucky notices the bruise on Gale’s forearm. Without thinking, he grabs Gale's hand and pulls it closer to get a better look at the mark. It’s circular, red and purpling in some places, about the width of a set of teeth. A bite mark. When Bucky brushes his thumb over it, Gale’s fingers twitch in his hold.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Bucky asks with a frown. His protective anger rises behind the wall of confusion in his mind. It’s a fresh bruise, can't be more than a day old. Did Gale get up to something while Bucky was at the pub yesterday?

Gale uses his free hand to hike his trousers higher up his slim waist, shifting in place, but he doesn’t move the hand Bucky's holding to examine the bruise. He just stares at it, cheeks pinking. He’s standing close enough that all Bucky can smell is his aftershave, fresh on his smooth face.

"I reckon it was one of those bed-stealing fellas around here." He drawls.

Bucky swipes his thumb over the mark again distractedly before realization hits him.

"Did I do this?" He asks, horrified. When Gale hums yes, it’s like a rock of guilt falling right on Bucky’s heart. He lets go of Gale's hand and rubs his palm over his own face. His hangover swells into a wave of nausea he swallows back down. "Shit. I'm sorry, Buck. Can’t even remember."

"It was good whiskey, huh?" Gale smiles and picks up the towel he wiped his face with earlier. When Bucky gives him an apologetic look, he swats at him with it. "It’s fine, John."

A memory hits Bucky like a bucketful of ice. Back in flight school, on one of their first longer leaves, Gale actually went home to see his Ma in Wyoming because she was bedridden with a chest cold, and they feared she might pass. She made it through, but for what good, Bucky isn't sure, because Gale rarely ever writes her and hasn’t been to Casper since.

But that one time, he visited his parents. Bucky won't forget how it went anytime soon. The first day Gale came back to base, he was sporting a fading shiner on his right cheek. Dark blue pain under pale skin. He clammed up about how he got it, but Bucky prodded, kept asking the same question, who did this to you? Until Gale confessed that he had a fight with his father. The man was drunk. But it's fine, John, Gale told him, pursing his lips. Nothing that won't heal.

Discomfort ripples through Bucky, bitter on his tongue and heavy in his heart. Gale's smiling now, unlike that day in flight school, but there are too many similarities. Bucky has to, he needs to make it better.

"I didn’t mean to hurt you." He says sincerely.

"I know." Gale nods.

Bucky bites his lip. He can’t think of anything else to make it clearer that he’s nothing like Gale's bastard of a father. There’s so little he can give. He has nothing to offer but his company. "Let me make it up to you. Come to London with me. We could both use a break. Let's go paint the town red."

The tip of Gale's pink tongue pokes out between his lips for a second as he considers it. Instinctively, Bucky's gaze drops to the motion before he looks back to Gale's eyes again. "I don't know about that."

There's a wariness in his voice that wasn’t there before. Bucky hates it. He doesn’t know what put it there, but he wants it gone. He claps a hand on Gale's elbow and gives him a friendly squeeze. "Come on. We can go look at all the sights you wanna see, then I'll take you to a pub and buy you the best ginger beer you've ever had."

Gale gives him a lopsided smile. "Is that a bet?"

Bucky smirks. "A promise." He moves to take Gale's place at the sink, but Gale doesn’t step back immediately, which puts their faces so close to each other that for a split second, Bucky imagines crossing the remaining distance. "Tell you what. We could even split the hotel costs."

A fond light shines in Gale's eyes. He steps away with a chuckle and throws the towel at Bucky. "Go wash your face, Egan."

Grinning, Bucky opens the tap and does just that. That wasn’t a no, he notes. Excitement tingles in his limbs. His blood pumps warm joy through his body with every heartbeat. He has never felt more alive than this, but he wonders if he could. And if yes... would London do the trick?

[lulublack90]

Prompt 11 - Pirate

@wolfstarmicrofic June 11, word count 774

Previous part First part

"It wasn't until you were on top of me, inches from my face, and you'd dipped your head that I realised why I'd been a bit obsessed with you," Sirius said, before Remus had even fully sat down. "Like the second I saw you I just felt good, you know?" Remus nodded. 

"Yeah, same," He admitted. Then, for some unknown reason that only the impulsive part of his brain knew, he blurted out. "I thought you were beautiful," He froze, eyes bulging as he realised what he'd just said. He felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He tried to duck his head, but Sirius caught it with his hands.

"You're beautiful too," His words ghosted across Remus's lips and he shuddered. They didn’t talk much after that. 

That night Remus listened as Sirius padded across the cabin and slipped into James’s bed. He cracked an eye open and watched as they hid under James’s duvet, whispering and giggling as quietly as they could. 

At breakfast the next morning, after they'd made full use of their first dibs cards, Dumbledore announced that they would be creating rafts after lunch.

“So please make sure you are properly attired as we will be heading straight to the lake after you’ve eaten.” 

Remus looked down at the swimming trunks laid out on his bed. He thought about faking being sick to get out of it. All the adults there knew about his illness, so it wouldn’t take much. Sirius came in wearing black trunks with a skull and crossbones across the front and back in the style of a Jolly Rodger. He furrowed his brow at the still fully clothed Remus before his eyebrows shot up in understanding. He turned away and fished through James’s drawer, pulling out a t-shirt that would drown Remus but also had a skull right in the middle of it. It even had long sleeves. 

“Put this on and we can match.” He smiled confidently. “And if anyone says anything, just say you burn easy.” He grabbed up Remus’s trunks and started to prod him towards the bathroom to get changed. 

“But what about my legs?” Remus pleaded. The scars had faded some, but you could still see the silvery lines where the glass had torn them up. When he was five, he'd had his first episode, and he’d fallen on the glass coffee table at his grandparent's house and had a seizure on the shards. He’d been in shorts and a t-shirt. They’d been his first scars. Little did that young boy know that they’d soon have a collection of friends join them as the doctors tried to figure out what was wrong with him. 

“Your legs?” Sirius’s eyes went wide and vulnerable. He swallowed and held the leg of his trunks up. “Then we can match.” And there on Sirius’s soft thigh were dozens of scars, criss-crossing the skin. 

“Sirius, I,” He started, but Sirius waved his concerns aside. 

“If anyone says anything, James and I will sort them out,” He promised. Remus went into the bathroom and got changed. 

“Stunning,” Sirius proclaimed, smacking a kiss on his lips and pulling him towards the door. “Come on, let’s go build a raft.”

The raft-building tools included blue barrels, wooden planks and rope. They were expected to find the best way to get them together and paddle them across the lake. 

“We’ve done this before,” Peter whispered to Remus, conspiratorially making Remus grin. He was feeling good, no one had said anything about the scars on his legs or the long-sleeved t-shirt he was wearing. 

He and Peter brought the supplies to James and Sirius as they masterfully worked together, seeming to read each other’s minds to build a perfect raft. 

They clambered on one at a time to check the knots were secure. Sirius and James paddled out and the raft held. They did a few more tests and were happy with its sturdiness. By this point, the Slytherin team had finished theirs as well. 

Sirius jumped to his feet.   

 “I am a pirate king!” He cried boldly, jumping to his feet and making the raft bob violently. “Hurry men, I wish to board that ship and claim it as my own!” He pointed at the Slytherin raft, where the greasy-haired boy Snape and the ever charming Mulciber were arguing over how to attach the barrels better. Before Remus could say anything, James put an oar in his hands and they started forward. “Avast ye mangy curs, your boat be mine now!” Sirius called to them with a terrible glee in his eyes. Remus shook his head and kept rowing. 

Next part

[atefingersdagger]

Has anyone chosen 13 for Clato yet? (That or number one, but I saw you say someone pls request 13 and I was like. HELL. yes.)

Dips Between Knuckles

Prompt 13: Linking hands together during sex

Thank you for requesting the one!

*

As far as she’s aware, sex in the arena has never happened. Or it’s just never been broadcasted. It’s likely, must be, the latter after all these years. The act is inevitable with youth left in the wild, just not appropriate for audiences at home.

Yet, here Clove is; in a tent with her district partner, nude and attached so intimately, like there is no threat damning them. Like mutts or other tributes wouldn’t have the chance to catch them in the act and take them out in their surprise. Good thing they’re being quiet and can hear any shuffling on the pine soaked ground outside if anyone or thing was to sneak up on their feral behavior.

Okay, so they’ve done this twice before; fucking. But those times were in the Capitol in safety and luxury. Not on a lumpy floor with nothing but a sleeping bag underneath them and their jackets as cushioning for her head. The only reason she can see anything is the flashlights and torches set up outside by their “allies” taking watch.

It’s so dim, Clove can make out only shadows and shapes, but she feels everything; his torso against hers with friction, his mouth on her neck with wet kisses, and his hands. Fuck, they fit on her skin with perfection, kneading her like a clay he’s trying to sculpt carefully. She arches her back at the sensations mixing as cold and hot air would to create tumultuous weather.

What’s strange is; one of his palms finds hers. Clove assumes it’s to hold her down in the way she enjoys, but no. Instead, he intertwines their fingers as she’s beneath him and his absolute power. It’s almost sweet in a sickening sense, like sugar to cavities. Poisoned honey on a honeymoon.

No, really, because it’s teetering on romantic for no good reason, and she doesn’t understand why it makes her hips buck more. Something like that, sentimental, shouldn’t increase the tension that’s building up to a snap in her lower stomach. Cato’s intentions certainly couldn’t be of all that stupid mushiness, but she’s unsure of what drove him to do such an idiotic and hot thing.

On instinct, she squeezes back to his hand with her own tendons along with her inner muscles that tighten around him like a cave in with no escape. Although the touch is simple, it’s simple in the way that a spark is. And she’s fully aware it can burn down the forests well beyond the line from the Cornucopia. A dangerous little thing that gives Clove a run for her money.

“Cato.” She whispers so subtly she’s almost uncertain that it touched the air at all.

“Sshhh.” He commands. Although not with a demanding tone, but a coo of a voice that beckons softly.

That, too, makes her gasp and thrust a bit faster. Her nails dig into the dips between his knuckles he often cracks to intimidate others or turn her on, but his pain tolerance barely has him registering. Similar to how she dug them in during their handshake at the reaping. Easily, he could break all of her fingers if he crushed and compressed just enough, and she knows he will soon be trying to kill her, yet she trusts him implicitly in the midst of the glorious heat.

She realizes that she’s never held anyone else’s hands as far as her memory is concerned. Cato’s is sweaty upon her own and instead of being repulsed like she thought she should at the texture, the fact doesn’t bother her. It’s comforting in ways that should be off limits. But then again, she often strives for the forbidden.

“Close.” She sighs, barely even audible. He hears it anyway. “I’m close.”

Lucky for her, his free hand is the dominant one, and the skilled thing slips between their grinding to brush over her most sensitive spot. The sweet twinge of want flares up through her ribs to reach her heart, then her head that loses its peripheral vision. Her reaction is a huff and then a choking, a dam holding back her moans or whines that might give them away. She actually might rather die than have anyone know she’s been in the throes of passion with her opponent. Sleeping with the fucking enemy.

“Cato.” Clove whines once more where he then shushes her once more as well, soft, hot breath against the shell of her ear to a near tickle.

“Bite me to keep quiet, if you must.” Cato offers up the chance to hurt him for pleasure. How could she not take it? As every form of pain in the arena is legal, this too counts.

To that, she nods frantically as her hips assist in chasing the orgasm that’s being supplied by his movements, especially his fingertips slipping back and forth. Her teeth find his earlobe, of all places, because it’s her favorite place to bite. It fits splendidly between the enamel of her teeth, bite-sized one could say.

Not only does her teeth clamp around skin, her palms do as well; around his hand and the other in his soaked blonde strands of hair. Then, her insides do to his hardness that burrows deep within her, filling her up to the brim as she quivers and trembles beneath him. Clove feels so immaculate in this moment, surrounded by the ruffling of nature outside and stifling heat inside the tent.

Her eyes clamp shut as she wraps around him, her limbs clutched over Cato’s large frame. He follows her in the way he had in the wilderness earlier today while they hunted, a deep groan suppressed only by his ability to keep his lips tight knit. For once.

The tension releases her body slowly, unwinding like rope constricting the esophagus as he spills in her, a non-concern considering her implant along with the tracker in her arm, making her periods cease. She sighs at the hot feeling, satisfied that his life belongs to her in the way his death soon will. He absolutely belongs to her, and it’s clear as a sunny day with how he doesn’t let go of her hand even when they are done in the night.

[nintendonut1]

Hasty

so i

wrote ship fic of my OCs

if you guys are into that sorta thing LOL

Swee/Willow slowburn fic, where they discuss Swee's favorite television program growing up. Includes swearing, small injury, and telenovela-esque drama (thanks to LassDaisy for double-checking my Spanish!)

“What the—dude. What is this lady’s problem??”

Swee freezes mid-slice, the carrot on his cutting board half-diced, and takes a moment to find his center. Were it anyone else, any other time, he wouldn’t hesitate to throw someone who’d dare slander his girl right out of his kitchen. Shutting his eyes, he, oddly enough, finds inner peace in her shrieking voice blaring at full volume from the mounted television.

It’s okay. He dropped in at the season finale of a show that’s in a language he cannot understand. He has no knowledge of her struggles. Go easy on him.

Without a word, he lifts the remote and pauses the DVD, turning to face his guest with his hands clasped in front of his face. “...okay. Do you want the whole list, or just the top ten?”

Willow gives proper pause, blinking, a cracker drenched in cheese sauce hovering just near his open mouth in mid-bite. After the pause, he pops it in, growing nervous.

…oops.

Swee puffs out a sigh. “Sorry. I get melodramatic about my shows sometimes.” He saunters away from the counter and plops into a chair, joining Willow at the kitchen island and dipping his own cracker in the sauce. He needed a break from dinner prep anyways.

“I can, uh. See why,” Willow ventures with an uneasy grin, one that Swee wants to make go away and turn more genuine as soon as he can. 

“Yeah, heh. This one especially gets me bad. But I can’t help but feel for her, y’know?”

“Swee, she just pulled a gun on these two.” Willow points a chip at her frozen close-up of righteous fury, said gun pointed in front of her. “Like, is she dating one of them? Is that why?” (oh stars, he doesn’t know how painfully heterosexual this show is, that’s so cute holy shit) “Still seems like an overreaction, I dunno.”

“I mean…fair. But,” Swee turns to fully face him, swallowing a cracker. “This is the finale of season ten. There’s been a shitton of build-up to this.”

“So, tell me about it.”

Swee looks straight into those crooked eyes, fresh green and glittering, and finds nothing but sincerity in them.

So, he does.

It’s a bit of a long-winded summary of Hayce T. con Amor, a show near and dear to his heart. He followed its initial airing alongside his mom, and as he traveled around he’d spend hours on the phone with her sharing their impressions of the latest episode, up to its dramatic ending years ago. It follows the tumultuous journey of Hayce T., in her constant pursuit of true love in a sea of liars and cheaters. The first episode opens on her finding her high-school boyfriend making out with another girl under the bleachers, and her luck never, ever seems to lift up from there. The theme was that she’d always throw everything she had into a new relationship, naively hoping that this would be the one, and the boyfriend of the week would always find something wrong with that, each reason more outlandish than the last.

“Hell, last season, Pet T. tried to spin it in a way where she was ‘gaslighting and manipulating’ him by putting on some front?? Bess T., that’s her friend, remember, talked some sense into her, but like, damn, man?”

Willow is absorbing this, taking a thoughtful bite of a small stack of crackers as he considers it all. “So, like.” Oh he’s gonna say it, isn’t he. “When are Hayce and Bess gonna kiss?” 

There it is. Oh god Willow you beautiful soul. I could kiss you right now.

Swee doesn’t, and swallows a blush this time, taking a moment to recalibrate at that interruption to his whole spiel. “...okay, well, I’m not gonna spoil anything later on, just lemme get to right now—”

The star-doll looks almost smug as he chomps another stack. “Hellllll yeah they kiss later, don’t they.”

“Shoosh-shush. Yer throwin’ me off.” Swee shakes himself back on track as Willow chuckles. “So that guy, the one she’s pointing the gun at? That’s Gill T. He treated her like a queen, said he’d never do all the crap she went through, it looked like this was it, ‘tu eres mi unico amor,’ y’know?”

Willow nods, leaning in with interest. He doesn’t even point out how little Spanish he knows this time. “Uh-huh? But then she found him with that other lady anyways?”

“Worse than that, dude. That other lady was sent by him to kill her.”

“WHAT.”

“Right??”

He slumps back. Poor thing looks defeated, as if he was beginning to understand and it was all thrown off kilter. “Swee. Swee, what.”

“Look, just—I’ll go back to the beginning of the season,” the toad scrambles back to the counter, fiddling with the DVD menu. “And I’ll hit the subtitles, just. I can’t just tell you everything, you gotta watch it unfold, it’s fuckin’ crazy.”

“Aaaallright, okay.” Willow acquiesces, watching the opening credits play out as Swee frantically returns to his prep work, oops, oops, oops—

“...Swee?”

“Yeah?” Chop chop chop.

“You said you feel for Hayce T., yeah?”

“Uh-huh.” 

“...are you looking for true love, too?”

CHOP. “—AAGGHH. FUCK.”

“Swee???”

In a whirling blur, the toad chef is back at the kitchen island, his hand nestled in a bloodied cloth. Spanish voices fade into the background as he watches Willow tend to the lengthy cut along the top, releasing a sappy healing salve from a digit in his finger and dragging it along the wound. 

Swee’s head is positively buzzing. He almost misses when Willow sighs, “There. Geez. Not as bad as it looked, but still.”

“Thanks. Ugh.”

Aw hell. Now Willow looks away, ashamed, like this whole thing was his fault. Because of course he thinks that. “...Sorry.”

“Shush.” Swee clears his throat, and answers his question. “...yeah, kinda. I mean, I’ve been looking.”

Willow pensively watches him as he continues, “I thought I found it, a few times. A relationship here, a fling or two there…or five.” He cringes at himself. “...when you’re traveling a lot, there’s not any time for much else.”

He feels the gaze of the resplendent star in front of him, and he laughs mirthlessly. “Guess I’ve got that Hayce T. run of luck.”

The silence that follows is thick as molasses, and Swee wants to sink into the earth and vanish— “Well…” Willow’s voice, weedy with nerves, cuts through that spiraling thought, and Swee is greeted with a lopsided grin. “If anyone sends their assassin affair partner to kill you, you at least got me to protect you?”

Oh my god. Willow ventures a small shrug. Oh my god.

A thousand emotions crash into Swee and smash through his walls, and he breaks down laughing. Willow joins him shortly, and they both slump on the table in actual mirth as the telenovela plays above them, the tormented lovers onscreen ignorant of the actual goddamn romance happening here in Swee’s goddamn kitchen.

“Then my luck’s already better.”

[redd956]

Hi there!

Realized I haven’t done much with 1 of my characters.

Could you please do some Medic caretaker/Whumpee prompt’s please 🙏

Sure!

Medic Caretaker & Medic Whumpee Prompts

Medic Caretaker

Caretaker becoming completely overwhelmed with their workload, trying not to let their patients or multiple Whumpees that they see the situation as grim.

Caretaker running into a room, pushing everything off a table whilst frantically giving out commands to those around them. They still shocked by the amount of blood that begins to coat the table as soon as whumpee is set down. They don't think they can do this.

Caretaker's situation has left them with less than inadequate equipment. They've been dipping cold rags into a bucket, plastering them against whumpee's sweating body. Debating which tool would be best to make a last hasty last minute decision. They need to get this shrapnel out of Whumpee.

"What happened?!", Caretaker demanded, running to the scene. They continued to repeat, "What happened", after seeing the grim looks of the team. Whumpee was in a condition they've seen before, affected by a weapon Caretaker couldn't understand even if they witnessed it.

Whumpee was shot by a modified bullet of sorts. To survive it needs to be removed, but it could blow up any moment. Caretaker has no choice, their hands shaking with their tools in hand.

Whumpee has a fear of medical equipment, doctors, or something related from their past. Caretaker can't seem to figure out why Whumpee is so terrified of them.

Medic Whumpee

Whumpee's team has been wiped out, leaving them alive. Now they're forced to care for Whumper's team, healing the enemy, comforting the people with the blood of his friends on their hands.

Whumpee's has been desperately trying to save the sick, especially a close friend of theirs. Constantly being surrounded by them, it is unsurprising that eventually they'd catch whatever is spreading around.

Being a medic makes whumpee a viable target for the enemy. They've always understood this, but never felt the consequences until today.

Usually it's whumpee patching people up, but after the clinic was targeted by enemy forces, they've found themselves on the receiving end of treatment.

A hiss whistled through whumpee's teeth when their strange patient bit them. Already having a bad day, whumpee didn't take the proper time to clean or analyze as much as they should. Perhaps such a bite wasn't fully human.

Whumpee heals people through healing magic, however using it can be draining. As more and more injured come in, Whumpee is giving up more and more energy to treat them. Someone in bad shape comes into whumpee's hands. Whumpee has to choose between risking themselves or saving the other's life.

[furymint]

wc 641 (this ask was sent to my insp blog @unforgettablesilhouette so just to keep my writing in one place i copied it here! thank u @houserosaire!)

"What," Nolanel grunted, "are you doing?"

Elliot strengthened his grip on Nolanel’s hand. "You needn't question what you know—it dulls your understanding of the world."

They strode side by side in one of the brackish portions of the city, where the closely paved walkways of the Pillars began to twist into the impaired streets of the Brume. Lights in Skysteel make hung over the path towards the sector's barracks to guide ale-drunk soldiers home, but as soon as the sun fully set, the rest of the road would be lit only by the windows and brazier fires of the shops.

Nolanel tried to jerk his hand away. "Instead of chaffing me, answer me why," he griped.

"I'm fond of you," Elliot declared. "And walking with you remains the highlight of my days."

Sarcasm soothed Nolanel no further. "Let go of me or I will make a scene."

"The Horde would agree to peace sooner."

"Are you more ill in the head than we knew? Do you see anyone else here making some pathetic show of their affections like this?"

"Not exactly. You're also not looking deep enough." Elliot pouted. He tugged Nolanel toward the center of the street to skirt the collection of low tables and chairs that made a bistro's veranda. "The people don't know you here; you've never been here—"

"Baseless certainty will be your death one day."

"Yes, and I'll march to my grave completely blind in the belief it is my salvation! Now stop pretending there are knives at your neck and start looking at the stars. They're beginning to appear."

Nolanel tried to yank himself free again. To his own annoyance, he could never purposefully harm Elliot or allow himself to appear as trapped by sick enjoyment as he was—so his strength was not in him as he lifted his arm and punched it suddenly down. Elliot dipped readily with the force and leaned against his shoulder. Spite prevented Nolanel from enjoying the warmth.

"You may be correct about the people here knowing me, but what of the agents among them? My aether is poisoned with the inner dragon. The Inquisitors need to see no more than that."

"Be realistic! Hypocrisy may be strong among them, but the Inquisition is abounding with inverts. They're the ones who require intervention from a saint—preferably Raphael, what for their tools, lest—"

"Gods, be silent, afore I scream. An Inquisitors does not look above his caste to sell himself as the adored pet of some nobleman with a penchant for uniforms."

Wagging his free hand dismissively, Elliot shrugged, "If the Tribunal were looking for such a pair, they would find more than one here."

Nolanel finally paid attention. The strip was lined with brasserie, cafés, and dwellings, all of them twinkling with activity and rumbling with the voices of men. Of the knights posturing at the rim of counters or alone against walls, few of them lifted their concentrated eyes to him. They watched Elliot.

Others were long engaged in conversation, drink, and games, while women with slack hairstyles prodded apart those who stepped too close. Smoke cycloned behind the windows of one bar, then rushed into the streets as a laborer threw open its door and hollered a greeting.

There were too many alleys and too many people who stood on the lip of their darkness, like effigies of temptation, to feign some occupation while they waited for another to approach.

Nolanel returned Elliot’s grip with force, causing Elliot to laugh. "'Tis not myself I intended to shield, but you, ser. We wouldn't want anyone to think you could be had."

"Still—"

"I know this area, which is why I've brought you to visit de Charlus' little place. He boast the best madeleines. Nevertheless, if anyone offers you a cigar—"

"You're making this worse," Nolanel cringed.

"You'll love it."

[alarrytale]

i think a lot of things went wrong with bbg:

1) i think if louis + band had actually not communicated about it being not real and louis actually tried to play a dad for the first two years, then they could have easily ended it by latest 2017 with a paternity test. because they were communicating and all of these "theories" are wild and A LOT of people are aware of this "conspiracy" I believe this is why they cannot end it smoothly because they know we are gonna go "i told you so" and then it's gonna be another hot cup of worms.

2) at the same time I also think his personal losses affect him mentally to be putting his energy into this and that's why it didn't happen immediately?

3) do you think the contract has an end date? at this point I'm afraid it doesn't have an end date and they keep renewing it of some sort.

4) i am a quarantine larrie but i have heard many many times that there were seedings of it ending in 2016 and 2018 and even at the time around early 2020? but after I have joined the fandom i haven't seen any such signs of the bg ending. it has just amplified.

5) altho at the same time i do feel there have been contrasting changes to bg then vs bg now, louis is more involved and the clarks are not followers hungry as they used to be? B's instagram is also bare minimum (just a couple pics of F and i don't follow her so idk what goes onto her stories but i think she doesn't post a lot of F; ofc cause she has her life and she's not a mother)

6) in the past couple years i have actually sat back and thought if im sane about it or not or if louis was actually the father but then immediately i recognise that nope, above anything I know that woman was not pregnant aka no baby came out of her vagina and it's all bullshit. ofc they are other proofs of him not being a father but this tops them all. and it's also laughable how the sisters don't have any other pics of F apart from the christmas stunts.

7) louis can make sony money too, if they just fucking LET HIM. i don't understand why all cruelty is imposed upon him. maybe get harry engaged to some blonde for 2 years (and make him SELL IT? 2 years can do. they did with OW) as an exchange to bg getting ended. who the fuck cares??? as long as it's not bg 2.0 and HS is fully straight and in love with a WOMAN and engaged (maybe bring on the baby rumours too to feed the het fans BUT I WANT THE KID GONE)

8) at this point im just hoping they'll end it before he turns 10 but then ill be in excruciating pain to think that this sweet boy had to endure ten years of this torture just because he's 🌈 and in relationship with mr styles? this is tortuous.

9) maybe they can end it and louis can dip of the face of the earth for a year and then come back with lt3 and be the next big thing. i am manifesting for bbg to get over before july 2025.

10) truth to be told, i am losing hope but at the same time im optimistic that it'll end someday (hopefully soon) and they don't wait for hs downfall (just because he's on his peak rn) idfc. i hate it for louis and freddie, too. the child has no agency, he didn't sign up for this and he'll grow up with a lot of trauma if he's exposed to it anymore (2 years and he'll be 10? what another 2? and he'll most probably be on the internet? this is horrifying)

Hi, anon 💚

I think bg was something so horrible and traumatic to Louis (and the rest of the band) that the only thing he really considered was fighting back with everything he had. H and L had tried to position themselves to get more freedom within their closets, and this was undring everything they'd worked for. So it was important for him to show those who sees him for who he is, and sees and support his relationship with H, that it was not real. It's not who he is. He didn’t have a choice when it came to participating, but he could restist, resist and resist as much as possible. If he hadn't, and he played willingly along to really sell it, he'd be miserable, H would be miserable and larries would have left the fandom in droves. He'd have no fans to launch his solo career with. He'd have no support.

I don't know when it will end, it doesn’t seem like it's ending anytime soon, but then again bg could end at any time. It doesn’t need seeding. But if it ends, there's nothing stopping us larries from being very vocal about it and the larry rumours coming back again. L would be halfway out of the closet and dragging H along with him. So i think it will last until they're allowed to come out. I don't know when that will be.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

My friend Blake said that Itto would be obsessed with how squishy my tummy is, my stretch marks, stomach rolls, etc.

Literally that’s all he said, man dropped a sentence and dipped. And did not elaborate.

So now I’m stuck here like:

(The idea of someone loving my bodily features is foreign to me bc I’ve always been shamed for them sooooo…)

I can dig it. Did you read all that schmuff I said on your other post? About how beautiful you are inside and out? I'll NEVER understand why, but not everyone is a psychopath for people that are skin and bones. And as soon as I get this damn audio to you, you'll hear why a little extra cushion for the pushin' will serve you both well. Plus, women like us are just extra cuddly. Our thighs serve as ear warmers and hand warmers. Our asses are just more fun. Our tummies are fun to kiss. I know this. (Have I fully accepted this of myself nearly 42 yrs on this planet? Fuck no. But I need to, cuz it is what it mf is.) So now it's time for you to know this. Women ... in general ... are the superior species because we can do literally almost everything. I'm not being sexist, just bragging that should we so choose, we could make dinner, fold laundry, clean, brush the cat, change a lightbulb, pour a glass of water AND make a baby at the same time.

I strayed from the point. But THAT, is just how good at multitasking women are. I can make several points at once. Bitches.

[thewingedbaron]

There was another one waiting on his doorstep in the morning. Shivering, blue lipped, the poor dear. Chained to the massive stone that had once served as Thalbor’s front door when he had been in deep slumber. Three times he had melted that chain to a pile of slag, yet the humans of the village seemed insistent on replacing it. May so their sacrifices could not run away. Thalbor snorted, forgetting himself for a moment as the shivering human cried out in fear. 

“My sorrys.” He said slowly with his best human accent. “You… travel within?” 

The great dragon, known to the neighboring village as Thalbor the Benevolent (he supposed it was because he had not burned their plains or touched their cattle?) dipped his head to the human sacrifice on his doorstep. With a terrible claw (he had not polished them in weeks) sharper than any blade, he gently severed the chain from the stone. One of the others had skill with locks, he knew. He would leave the shackle, itself, to them. The last time he tried to remove one, he had nearly taken the poor human’s hand with it. 

“Come,” He said in the clumsy human tongue, nodding toward the massive entrance of the cave behind him. The human trailed behind him on uncertain legs. 

A slight gasp echoed from the poor thing upon entering his layer. They had all reacted that way, though Thalbor struggled to understand why. Certainly, his lair had some appeal. The massive library for one, stocked with scrolls and books of dragons and man. The hotsprings for another, big enough that even he could fully submerge his massive form. Finally his bed, a massive pile of reeds and fluff piled in one corner. It was a fine lair, one he was proud of. Even the newly added human elements of the lair had not stolen from its majesty. It might have even improved it, he thought. 

Nearly a dozen other humans were lounging around the hot springs, making use of some of the smaller pools. They offered a friendly wave to their host, calling greetings in their own tongue with wide smiles. Upon seeing their kin, however, their smiles died, and the humans leapt into action. The newcomer was welcomed with a fluffy robe, taken from the stack waiting beside the hot spring. Within moments, half the humans were working on warming their kin, and seeing to their every need. Thalbor smiled as one of the humans ran back to their residences in the corner of the cave. Soon enough, he knew, the lair would be filled with the most wonderful smells of baking bread. The baker had been the third sacrifice sent, and a welcome one. Thalbor would never admit to it, but before their arrival, he had no idea what it was exactly that humans ate. 

Thalbor settled down on his bed of reeds with a contemplative sigh. He would need to do something soon, he realized. He had a dozen guests with him now, and he would soon run out of room. He had tried to scare the humans off once, making it clear that their sacrifices were unneeded. His attempt, however, had only made the sacrifices come more often. They were outcasts, if he understood correctly. People that had found no home in the village. But, as he watched his guests take care of the newcomer, the great dragon could not help the smile that spread across his lips. 

He would make more room, he thought. If none could be found in the village, then they would find one here. The dragon smiled wider, pleased with himself as human chatter filled his ears. Slowly, he nodded off to sleep. He dreamt of home, and of human laughter. 

The Dragon had no interest in burning the fields or devouring the humans who lived there, all they wanted was to be left alone yet the village kept sending sacrifices. One or two was fine but now the introverted dragon had twelve humans filling up their home… things were getting out of hand.

[bellmo15-blog]

Just Hanging Out In Metru Nui

In the time before time, in the ancient decade of the 2000’s, six plastic canisters were stocked in plenty of toy stores. And new and powerful legends were… Wait, why am I giving you all a history lesson on this anyway? Most of you reading this who were alive though out the 2000’s know what Bionicle is anyway!

Inkling Michael: Umm, I mean there IS a chance someone reading this might NOT know what Bionicle is.

Even if that is true for some, Google exists. I’m not here to hold people’s hands though everything!

But yes, like a lot of “Still listens to music via CD’s and watching movies and shows via DVD’s (unless I can get a Blu Rey version that is), still having the Sam Rami Spider-Man movies as their fav” 2000’s kids, Bionicle was a massive part of my childhood growing up. And there are a lot of reasons for that. Outside of being born in 1996 meaning I was around at the perfect time for Bionicles hay day there’s also the set’s themselves looking really dam cool no mater what year of it’s 9 year long run we are talking about with maybe a few exceptions, it more or less saved LEGO from finical troubles as well as how it had some pretty deep lore behind it that wasn’t afraid to delve into some more darker aspects that kept so many people like myself invested in it. Granted, when I became a teenager in 2010 I did start to fall out of it a little but well, if you’ve seen my Twitter the last couple of months you can probably tell I’ve gotten back into it recently.

And, well… I knew eventually it would lead to me getting this! Remember how I said this in my recent Kronos Unveiled Comm I got? “Bionicle 3 Web of Shadows which I also saw later that same year had the scene of the Toa Metru all trapped in the Visorak cocoon’s which I also had a wired fascination with that I also didn’t fully understand until I became an adult.” Yeah, let’s just say this scene was more or less my awakening to my interest in webbing and cocooning. I mean they weren’t JUST in the 3rd movie though. I mostly bring Web of Shadows up spesificlly because the movies were some of my fav things relating to Bionicle growing up and still are…… Well three of the four movies at least. These cocoons were pretty much everywhere in 2005’s marketing. Which makes sense considering the Visorak are practically spiders and they were the catalyst for the Toa Metru becoming the Hordika in that years story line. Lucky for me and Shantae here, that transformation WON’T happen to us! As far as the lore is concerned, Hordika Venom can’t affect purely organic matter. So, we can be trapped there for a fair while and not be affected. Though I think one of us seems to have some objections. She’ll come around to enjoy it though soon, I’m sure. 😉

Artist is Mugenbine.... Although now that I mention the whole “not affecting pure organic” stuff, you reckon we could take a dip in some energized protodermis and it’d be safe? Look all I’m saying is that that pit in Makua’s lair in Mask of Light looks tempting!

[prince-kalim]

Meta post: Silver Spoon

Kalim has many siblings but none are his full blood siblings. His father had many loves which brought forth a bounty of children to the point Kalim could no longer keep count. It was normal for those with vast wealths to ensure a strong lineage that would be there to pass the wealth and land to once their time has come. Some marriages born of business deals and partnerships were sometimes planned decades before. He loves his many siblings. Going home he makes sure to spend as much time with them as possible. He has long since become accustomed to ignoring the reaction of their mothers when he is around. One day his beloved siblings may try and fight to take his position as heir. That if they are not already even if not fully aware of it. For some Kalim is the roadblock to power, wealth and influence. When he was small he remembered his father explaining what his fate would be going forward. The day the silver spoon was handed to him. The saying silver spoon is often used to mock the nature of the rich. But they do not understand the reason why. They do not know the twist of dread one gets in their stomach when one dips said silver spoon in tea or food and awaits to see if the silver turns black. That is the curse his father gave him the day he was named heir. How many spoons had twisted from gleaming metal to twisted black upon touching his food? Mountains of curled up twisted metal casted away to be tossed with wasted food as he kept the smile up to not worry the people around him. “Ah lucky I didn’t eat it!” He would chirp before sending his plate or tea away. Soon he stopped feeling that twist in his gut. Soon he could smell the poison before he dipped his spoon in…Each time he would smile pushing his plate away if his smaller siblings were around he just played at not being hungry. He sometimes doesn't know if he does this to soothe the worry of his small siblings or tell the poisoner that he is not falling for that so easily. He used to love Curry… often eating it with Jamil when they were smaller. He still doesn't know what happened had it been the bowls had been swapped or the poisoner had messed up but the day Jamil collapsed he will never forget. He hated curry after that day… He blamed himself for Jamil’s sickness praying to any being above while Jamil lay in his coma that he would pay any price for the other boy to wake. He should have smelt it, he should have made Jamil eat with silver. He was fine being the target of these assassination attempts that was his fate as heir of the Asims. Jamil was his friend, he should have not been a target. He thanked the sorcerer of the sands when Jamil opened his eyes. Grateful that he didn’t pay the price for Kalim’s fate. Trial and error he honed his skills at identifying poison. As his would-be-assassins got smarter, so did he. He learnt not every poison turns his silverware black but his nose was always good at picking out the sharp scent of death awaiting him. Each time he smiled and laughed. His confidence flared but also sending out the message to that would-be-assassin. I do not fear you (Note: I used the silver spoon as it was an old fashioned way of detecting Arsenic poison. I read the fact while reading some of those iseki royalty webcomics ((don’t judge me)) and looked it up to see if it was a thing… it was! So um earworm rambles about Kalim’s poison trauma and overcoming it in his own way)

[josiesullysblog]

Like the Ocean

~Neteyam x Deaf Metkayina reader

~Fluff

~Proofread?-no

~Summary-You are Tonowari’s youngest daughter, you were a kind soul, always doing what’s right, and we're deaf. This never stopped you from enjoying the world, and one day a certain family came.

Note: This is my first time writing about the Metkayina! I hope everyone enjoys!

Your eyes sparkled as you watched the ocean. This was always your escape no matter what, it was always so beautiful and still. You smiled as you dipped your feet in, feeling the vibrations all around you. Being deaf enhanced your life in a way. Honestly, just by the way your eyes looked at everything, you’d think it was your first time seeing it. Your family never made you feel like a burden, your older siblings, Tsireya and Aonung, stopped any bullying that would be your way. Your mother, Ronal treated you as a baby, even though you were of age.

Anyways, you wouldn’t trade your life for anything. As you continued to play around you noticed people surrounding something. You assumed it might be someone hurt, so you rushed over there. Instead, you were met with a group of forest people. Your eyes widen in amazement as you began trying to get closer. Their bodies were much different, and if they trying to live here it would take them a while to learn the way of the water, you thought. You noticed two boys and two girls, but one stood out the most. His eyes had already been placed on you causing you to smile. You waved at the boy, who seemed shocked you waved and quickly returned the wave.

Aonung took notice before sending a glare toward the boy and grabbing you and pushing you slightly behind him. You frowned a bit till you noticed your father come out. Without being able to fully see him, you weren't able to keep up with what he was saying. You saw Tsireya and went her way and signed to her, “what is going on?”

She sent you a smile, “they want to stay here,” your smile widen at the thought of new friends. You clapped, something you did often to show you were happy. Tsireya laughed a little, till your mother made her way to the group. You adored your mother, constantly wanting to be with her and learn. She hadn't noticed you in the group and began speaking, she grabbed the oldest girl’s hand showing off the extra finger that you thought was cool. You slightly tapped Tsireya, “they have extra fingers! They must be very special!” She nodded slightly bringing her attention back to the conversation. Without being able to understand your eyes began wondering and fell back to the boy. His eyes were very pretty you thought as you examined the jewels he wore on his body.

You could tell the conversation had gone well by the smile laced on your sister's face. She stepped forward a bit dragging you with her. You waved at the family, causing your mother to finally notice you, “My Son, Aonung, and daughters, Tsireya and Raya will show you where you will stay.” You read his lips before smiling, “no, not my Raya!” Your mother grabbed your forearm lightly, “she will be coming with me,” and just like that you left the group, but not without waving to the new family bye.

You sat next to your mother as she softly braided your hair, you enjoyed the sensation it gave you. You softly tapped her leg turning to face the woman, “why was I not allowed to help the new family?” Her smile faltered at the mention of the forest people, “they have sky people's blood in them! They are from the forest and soon will realize they are useless in the water!” you frowned at your mother's words, “but they can still try! I bet they will prove us all wrong mom!” you smiled brightly at the older woman. One thing she loved about you, you always found the good in everything no matter what.

Neteyam's eyes could not lift from you the minute he saw you. You had these big blue eyes and even though everyone else was looking at him and his family as “demon blood” you looked more amazed. Once you noticed his stare, it didn't shy you away at all you smiled back showing off your dimples. He was going to speak with you before Aonung pulled you back. As the conversation with his fathers and the chief continued his mind kept wandering to you. Lo’ak took notice and nudged him, “we’ve literally been here for five seconds,” Neteyam rolled his eyes before looking else where.

“My Son, Aonung, and daughters, Tsireya and Raya will show you where you will stay.” His eyes followed you as you stepped out with your siblings. His smile deepened before being knocked off, “no, not my Raya,” your mother grabbed you and dragged you off, but you still sent a happy wave as you walked off, “follow me!” your sister directed him, and his family to their new home.

He didn't see you for the rest of the day. Assuming you probably had more important things than helping teach him and his siblings. But the next day as he and his siblings made their way down the beach with Tsireya, Aonoung, and Rotox your figure was already there. “I will go get Raya she can help you guys a lot with learning our ways!” Tsireya ran down the beach to get the girl's attention. You sat on the sand as you continued to feel the way it moved, you were at peace till you felt a pull. You turned your head and faced your sister.

You smiled big, “good morning!” you signed as you stood up, “will you be able to help us teach the Sullys sign language?” You clapped lightly, “I would love to!” Yesterday your mother made you stay by her side, which you had no problem with only that you wanted to see the pretty boy again.

You and your sister walked to the group who had already sat in a circle, “hello, Raya I’m Tuk!” The little girl waved at you while speaking. You waved back, “you are very pretty Raya!” this time you were unable to read her lips due to her speaking so fast, so you smiled at her before looking at your sister, “she spoke too fast, what did she say?” Tsireya sighed, “Oh, guys Raya is deaf!” The four children let out a small “o” as you simply sighed heavily, “what did she say?” you signed again. Tsireya laughed, “she said you were pretty!” you smiled before signing, “thank you!”

“She said thank you!” Tsireya translated for you. As the group continued with lessons the only person you helped was Neteyam. You and he seemed to be having a conversation without words but with eyes. He understood everything you said, taking it in like a sponge. Your smile made his heart beat fast, and his eyes to you seemed a lot like the ocean. They were not the same color but they held the exact feeling you got when you were at the beach. You two had gotten so carried away that you hadn't noticed everyone else at all. You certainly had a frown as Aonung tapped you and told you it was time to leave.

“Will you teach me tomorrow?” Neteyam questioned as you got up, “yes, I will try!” Aonung sighed heavily dragging you away from the blue boy. You had a smile the rest of the day, doing everything with a little pep in your step. As nighttime rolled around you and your sister often stayed up late, talking. “Do you like anyone?” she questioned you. You were always a happy person, but you had a different energy today. You nodded while clapping, “I do!” your heart swelled thinking of the blue boy. Tsireya let out a small squeal, “who is it?” she pressed you. You smiled so hard it felt like your cheeks were to fall off, “Neteyam!” you smiled as you signed causing the girl to go into a giggling frenzy, “I knew it!” you stopped smiling and looked at the girl, “was I that obvious?” she nodded, “do you think he knows?” she shook her head, “men are stupid, there is no way he knows,” you took her words in before heading to sleep.

Neteyam stayed up all night trying to practice his sign language. He yawned as he walked close to the spot you were at. He began walking closer till you noticed him, already smiling at him you ushered for him to come closer. Neteyam sat before facing you, “you pretty,” he looked so proud of himself that you didn't have the heart to say he did it wrong. “Thank you!” you said as he smiled. You noticed him yawn before looking at him, “did you stay up practicing?” you at first didn't know if he understood, but the boy quickly nodded. You felt so loved you clapped, “that was so sweet!” you laid back signaling for him to do the same, “you pretty!” you signed to the boy. But he was already fast asleep. You smiled before kissing his forehead and going into the boy's embrace.

***

Sorry if the ends seem rushed! I have school in the morning and have no time to fix it up today! But hope you all enjoyed it!

[clockwayswrites]

wc: 657

“Did he tire himself out?” It was a voice Jason knew, and more importantly knew was safe, so he just burrowed closer against Danny and tried to ignore whoever had come into the room. “I see, and what about resting yourself, little one?”

Jason grumbled as Danny shifted. Whatever they did made the voice laugh. “Well, that is very noble of you, though I am certain he would not mind if you rested also.”

The bed dipped as another weight settled on it, making Jason roll a little. A hand in his hair, gently carding through his curls, kept him from protesting.

“I think perhaps you are not resting for more reason than standing watch, no?”

Danny let out a huff of air and Jason was clutched tighter against them. He certainly wasn’t protesting. Even when Danny was mostly just shadow and light, curling up against them had been peaceful.

“What is wrong little Erebus?”

Those comforting arms pulled away from Jason’s and he whined. “No…”

“I am afraid that Danny needs their arms to communicate.”

Jason rolled over enough to blink blearily up at who was talking. “Oh, hi.”

“Hello, little Robin,” Diana said with one of her soft smiles.

“Is it time to go?” Jason asked with his most impressive pout. It sometimes worked on Diana and Jason held out hope.

“Close to it, I believe. I will be leaving the Watchtower myself soon and so was stopping by to see if Danny would wish to have lunch with me tomorrow,” she explained.

Danny looked up from where they were typing away on their tablet to give a quick nod and a little flash of a smile. They did this sometimes, typing out everything before they let the device speak. Luckily everyone who had been around was really patient with Danny. When they seemed happy with what they had written, they gave a little nod and looked between Diana and Jason.

“Please,” Diana said with a wave of her hand.

“Robin said the adults said that I could not live with him. It upset him and it upset me. It upset me, but I do not want to hurt him. I understand why the adults said no. I understand, but I am afraid. If I do not live with Robin, where will I live? Will I live here? Forever?”

“Like hell!” Jason protested.

“Certainly not,” Diana agreed, much more calmly. “The hope is that you continue to stabilize and start to generate your own life energy fully again, after which point we would see you settled into a more normal life. Even if that doesn’t happen, you will not be trapped here forever. None of us want to see that.”

Danny chewed on their lip. “But who would want me?”

“Oh little one,” Diana sighed. She telegraphed it enough to give Danny to pull back before she wrapped Danny up in a hug. “Myself, for one.”

That clearly shocked Danny.

Diana pulled back be able to look Danny in the eyes, though she kept her hands on their arms. “I have enjoyed the time we have spent together. You are kind and clever and so very brave. And I do not say this to put any sort of pressure on you. There is no need to decide anything now, but I do not what you to fear for even a moment that ne one wants you. You, Danny, are a very special person and we will all make sure that you find a home where you are loved, be it with me or someone else.”

Danny blinked, then sniffled, and then broke down into tears as they flung themselves at Diana. Jason was so startled by the face that Danny was bawling their eyes out that it took him a moment to notice that Danny was making sound. It tore Jason’s heart between breaking and souring with joy.

He settled for joining in the hug.

Not So Imaginary

Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6 Parts 7-8 WC: 1177

“I brought you some more books to read,” Jason said as he entered the room.

After Danny had shown that they were clearly a person (a kid at that) and answered a few questions, they had been moved to an actual room on the Watchtower. Jason was pretty sure part of it was how he refused to leave the cell until Danny was moved, but he didn’t really care as long as it got his friend safe.

Danny looked up with a grin. They were pretty solid today, sitting cross-leg on the bed with feet and everything.

“You’re back,” the artificial voice spoke out from the tablet like device in Danny’s hands. It was a version of something called a SGD, Bruce had said, and was used by people who had trouble with verbal sounds. They didn’t know if Danny would always need it or if they’re vocal cords would come back as they continued to solidify.

“I am. B said I could stay a whole three hours today too as long as I ate a snack while I was here,” Jason said, holding up one of the bags he had.

Three hours still wasn’t a lot, but it was better than the one it had been the rest of the week. It took a lot of begging, but B finally agreed that Jason was well enough for a test to see how it went. Danny was still draining life force from Jason, and only Jason, which made certain Leaguers nervous about letting the two of them close. Jason had done everything he could to let it happen: he’d begged and argued, he’d eating everything Alfie wanted him to, he rested whenever Bruce wanted him too which was all the time, and he even agreed to stay benched for as long as it took.

That last one had really helped convince Bruce and Dick that Jason wouldn’t back down from helping his friend.

“Good. I am happy. What do you have?”

“You liked the Hardy Boys, right? I have a few more of those and I found you some science mags you might like,” Jason said as he flopped onto the bed next to Danny. He could feel the odd tingle travel up his arm as he leaned into Danny.

“Thank you,” Danny said with a wide smile. The tone of the electronic voice didn’t match the brightness of that smile, but it was alright. Jason could also feel how happy Danny was.

“You’re doing okay?”

“Yes.” There was a long pause as Danny found the right words. They were pretty quick already with preset phrases, but odder things still took longer than regular talking would. “WW took me to observation deck. We watched stars. She told me stories of stars from her home.”

“Yeah?” Jason asked, trying to keep his voice from hitching around the word. He couldn’t bug Danny with that yet. “You like her? Wonder Woman?”

“Yes.” The reply was quick, but Danny was watching Jason with furrowed brows. They pushed a sense of question through their bond.

“I’m fine. Just thinking through some shit,” Jason said with a wave of his hand. “But Wonder Woman is really cool. She’s my favorite too.”

Danny set the tablet aside so that they could run their fingers through Jason’s hair. It felt odd, what with not all of the fingers always being all of the way solid, but a good sort of odd. It seems Jason couldn’t just Danny’s concern aside.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

Danny let out what for anyone else would have been a sigh and gave a little nod. They shorted through the bag of books Jason had brought and found a Hardy Boy’s to hand over to Jason.

“What me to read to you?” Jason waited for the nod. Apparently it was really important to let Danny choose things right then, or so the adults said. “Okay, move over a bit, yeah? You’re hogging all the bed.”

Danny placed their hand to their chest, face screwing up in an affronted expression. It didn’t work though when Jason could feel the amusement through their bond.

“Yeah yeah, I’m a brute, now shove over,” Jason said with a laugh. He worked his way up until he was lounging against the head of the bed.

Danny didn’t move.

“You’re a brat,” Jason accused.

Danny gave a silent laugh, humor bumbling up in their bond, before they flopped over right onto Jason’s chest. Jason let a huff of a sigh, but ran his fingers through Danny’s hair like he knew they liked before he opened the book to start read about another adventure of the Hardy Boys.

It was easier to feel the drain like this, when they were so close to each other and touching. Jason had tried to avoid spelling that out too much to Bruce. He got that his dad was just worried, but he was afraid if B knew he’d tried to keep Danny away.

As it was Bruce was trying to send Danny away.

Jason brushed the thought aside, focusing on doing his best to give the characters good voices for Danny. At least it was a distraction from all the rest of Jason’s thoughts. Two chapters later the stopped to ask, “Want a break or do you want another chapter?”

Danny rolled over and off Jason’s chest to flop onto the pillow next to him and Jason froze. His shock must have been clear because Danny scrambled up off the bed until they were floating above Jason.

“No! It’s a good thing. Just… you’re getting some of your color back,” Jason explained. He should really stop staring. He should take Danny to a mirror to see or something, but it was just that… Danny was beautiful right then. He found himself reaching up to brush his finger tips of the bright freckles that were scattered across Danny’s cheeks and nose like a galaxy of stars.

Bright teal eyes blinked back at him.

Jason cleared his throat. “Right, sorry, let’s go let you look.”

Danny floated to the side, landing on their feet as Jason stood, and followed behind behind to the small attached bathroom. Jason guided Danny in front of the mirror. White was spreading into their hair now.

For a moment Jason was worried that Danny was frozen in shock, then the other leaned in close to the mirror, touching the surface before bringing their hand up to their own face. Suddenly Danny was moving, spinning weightlessly around Jason as they gave a soundless whoop.

“I know,” Jason said with a grin of his own. “Look at you! You’re really coming together now! I knew you could do it. I knew that you could come back.”

Slowly, Danny drifted back down so that the tips of their toes brushed against the floor. They rested their forehead against Jason’s.

He didn’t need words to understand what Danny was trying to say.

“Don’t have to thank me, stardust. I’ll always come for you just like you’ll always come for me.”

--- AN: Oh ho, is Jason starting to realize he has a crush? And what isn't he telling Danny? Hopefully this part is good, the weather is giving me such a migraine/making me super dizzy so my eyes are crossing some! (Yes, I'm resting, on the couch with a cat!)

I really should have made an update post for this... this supposed ficlet just keeps going! 7K now! Aaaah well. Anywho, stay delightful, darlings!

[violet-shadows]

Speaking of forgiveness. (Part Three)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Masterlist

Summary: A spike of fear down the mating bond has Azriel racing back to the Night Court, terrified by what he’ll find. Meanwhile, the Inner Circle grapples with the fallout of a severe case of mistaken identity.

Word Count: 3.0k

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: canon typical violence, choking/strangulation, blood, mention of pregnancy

A/N: Thank you again to everyone who has supported this series. If you have submitted requests, please know that I am working through them. So far, they’ve all been great and gone on the docket. You guys are all so lovely! Thank you!

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰ 

Cassian had shed plenty of blood in his lifetime, but he took care not to inflict harm on the innocent and certainly not on his family. He shuddered at the memory of his hand closed around a small neck, protective instincts blinding him to the clues that things weren’t as they seemed. When Nesta opened the door and the light hit his opponent, no, his victim’s face he felt like he was in a nightmare. Cassian would have preferred a fight. He had planned on letting Azriel have his go at him, fully understanding the rage that was stirred when a mate was endangered. He deserved no less for making such a grave misjudgment.

“Cas,” Nesta’s voice stirred him from his thoughts. He had been pacing the grounds of the River House since he and Rhysand returned. Nesta has been relieved to find him unharmed, but the haunted look in his eyes was concerning. Rhysand had returned to the House of Wind soon after and she left her mate to think for some time before finally approaching him. Their bond was taught with mutual distress, and Nesta could practically feel the guilt pouring off of Cassian from across the house. “What happened?”

Cassian dropped into a chair, lowering his head into his hands as he let out a long exhale. “He hates me.”

Nesta’s heart broke as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, dipping her head to try and catch his eyes. “Cassian, that’s not true.”

“You didn’t see his face, Nes. He didn’t even yell. He didn’t say anything.” Cassian drew a deep, shuttering breath before continuing. “He hates me and he has every right to. Y/N should hate me too. You all should.”

“She doesn’t hate you and neither does Azriel. It was a mistake. Y/N knows that and Azriel will understand once he’s given a chance to calm down. They know you would never do that on purpose,” Cassian’s shoulders shook when she pulled him in for a hug, his arms snaking around her middle to pull her close to him.

“I can’t believe that I did. The threat just felt so real in the moment. I know better than that.”

Nesta bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. “You’ve been on edge for a while now, Cas. You haven’t been sleeping. What’s going on?”

“I just… After everything, after what happened when Feyre was pregnant,” he paused to gather his thoughts. “I suppose I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Nesta opened her mouth to respond when the door to the house opened. Rhysand looked weary and his jaw was clenched tight.

“She’s awake. He hasn’t come out. I don’t think he plans to anytime soon,” Rhysand told them. “It’s probably best you two stay here for a bit.”

Cassian nodded, hurt flashing across his face. “He’ll come around, Cas.”

“I hope you’re right.”

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

“Azriel, baby, we cannot stay in this room forever.” After Rhysand left the house, Azriel deemed it safe to move you upstairs to your shared bedroom, where the two of you had remained for the past two days. With an enchanted house attending to your every need and the company of your mate, it was surprisingly easy to remain in one room.

“Why not?” Azriel was next to you in bed, silhouetted by the midmorning sun pouring through your open window. “We spent three weeks locked away after our mating ceremony. I don’t recall you complaining then.”

“That’s because we were having amazing sex the whole time,” you teased, snuggling into his side. “It’s not as fun when you won’t fuck me.” Azriel groaned, throwing his head back in mock annoyance. You had attempted to initiate things the previous day, but your mate was set on making sure you did nothing but rest.

“If I do, can we stay here?” He asked after a moment of contemplation, a smirk on his handsome face. You stuck your tongue out.

“Tempting, but no. I need to get out of this room and you need to talk to your brothers.” At the mention of his family, Azriel’s face became serious. Rhysand had come each day, knocking on their door to check in, and each time Azriel had sent him away. He didn’t trust himself to face his brothers, not when the instinct to keep other males away from his vulnerable mate was so strong. When Azriel didn’t respond, you continued, “I need to talk to Cassian, too.”

With your head on his chest, you could hear his heart rate pick up slightly as he tightened his hold on you. “I don’t—Why do you need to talk to him?”

“Because I’m sure he feels awful, and I want him to know that I’m okay.” You replied sweetly, pretending not to notice your mate’s jaw clench. His grip on your waist remained tight.

“He should feel awful.” You sighed, readying yourself for yet another round of the same conversation. You had been trying to talk Azriel down on and off for days. Each time you began to get anywhere with the discussion, though, he shut it down, instead apologizing for beginning an argument and asking if you need anything. When he saw the look on your face he gave his predictable reply, “I’m sorry.”

“You need to talk to him, work this out. I know you know he didn’t mean to, so you have to figure out how to forgive him,” you said. “If you need more time, I get it, but you will have to talk to him eventually. And so will I.”

“I don’t like it, you being near him. The thought still drives me crazy.” The first day after the incident, Azriel had sworn up and down you would never be within a hundred meters of Cassian again, only to retract his statement when you reminded him that mate or no, you didn’t need his permission to talk to someone.

“So, you talk to him first. Then I will. But it needs to happen, and sooner rather than later,” you said. “We also need to let Cassian and Nesta back into their house soon.” The fact that your mate had all but banned the Cassian, and therefore Nesta, from their own home was another sticking point in the past few day’s discussions. Azriel was quiet, seeming to contemplate your words while staring up at the ceiling. Deciding some additional persuasion was needed, you moved even closer, resting your chin on his chest.

“Pleeeassseee, baby.” You widened your eyes and stuck your lower lip out in a slight pout. It was mostly a joke, but you knew it got Azriel every time regardless. “Please? For me?”

Azriel let out a heavy sigh before nodding, “For you. I’ll do it.”

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

When Rhysand showed up later that day, he was surprised when, instead of shouting him to go away through a cracked door, Azriel swung it open and stepped into the hallway. A nervous energy radiated off of the Shadowsinger as he shut the door behind him, and the fact that his hands remained balled into fists was not missed by Rhysand. Azriel, as usual, got right to the point, “I’m going to talk to Cassian.”

“Please tell me this ‘talk’ isn’t the kind that ends in a funeral,” Rhysand, as usual, mixed levity and truth to soften the message.

“I promised Y/N I would talk to him, try to come to some sort of… resolution.”

“You mean try to forgive him?” Azriel nodded stiffly, some of the tension beginning to leave him. The anger he’d felt towards both his brothers had indeed eased over the past few days. “I am sorry, Az. I know it seemed like I was trying to… minimize things. I understand why you were angry, and I wouldn’t have blamed you if you lost it. What happened was horrible.”

“It was,” Azriel replied. Without the rage there to mask it, grief was plain on Azriel’s face. “When I felt it, I thought—,” he cleared his throat, “I thought she died.” He didn’t need to elaborate or go into detail. Rhysand knew the unimaginable pain of feeling one’s mate near death. His experiences with losing Feyre had been horrifying enough, even if she came back to him relatively quickly. To feel that from a distance and not know what was happening would have been mind-melting. Rhysand shuttered.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I know how horrible it is.”

“The whole way back, I was plotting how I would kill whoever hurt her, slowly and painfully. I was ready to go to war,” he sighed again. “But then I got back and it was…”

“And it was Cassian,” Rhysand finished. “He wouldn’t have blamed you either, you know. If you had tried to kill him anyway. When he came to me afterward, he was so distraught that I thought something had happened to Nesta and the baby. I know you have every right to be angry but, when I say Cassian feels awful, I mean it.” Azriel nodded and tried to quiet the surge of conflicting emotions that warred within him.

“I know. I know he didn’t mean to. I’ll talk to him.” The conversation was cut short by the bedroom door opening behind them. Out stepped Y/N, looking rather cheery in contrast to her mate. She was fully dressed, and her hair unbound, partially concealing the green, blue, and yellow markings on her neck.

“Hi Rhys,” she greeted him before casting Azriel an expectant look, “I’m ready to go.”

“Now?” he asked, the question coming out like a whine and Rhysand smirked at the stern look his sister-in-law gave before gesturing for the pair to lead the way.

They arrived at the River House around dinner time, Rhys having reached out to Feyre to clear Nesta from the place before they arrived. There was no need to throw a pregnant female in the middle of whatever happened. When they arrived, Cassian was standing on the veranda, leaning against a pillar. Despite the fact that he was anticipating a fight, he was dressed in casual clothing, his leathers nowhere to be seen.

When they landed, Azriel didn’t set you down, instead keeping you held tightly to his chest while he sized up the male. Rhysand stepped to the side and when Azriel put you down, he did so behind the High Lord. ‘It will make him feel better,’ Rhys spoke mind to mind, ‘if he knows you’re safe right now’. You nodded and watched Azriel approach his other brother, cocking his head away from the house, a silent invitation to follow him. Rhys shepherded you inside while the pair made their way away from the house.

Cassian looked like a male being led to his execution as they walked the path towards a nearby grove of trees. His heart was racing, and he once again thought that this controlled approach was worse than Azriel simply attacking him. When they reached the edge of the trees Azriel stopped and paused for a moment before turning to face his brother.

“What happened, Cassian?” his voice was unnervingly steady, the voice of the Spymaster. “I’ve heard Rhysand’s version, I’ve heard hers. I want to hear it from you.”

“Ever since Nesta got pregnant, I’ve just been so… on edge. It’s like when Rhys first went Under the Mountain: can’t sleep, always ready for something to go wrong. That morning, I thought it was just Nesta and me at the house, and when I heard footsteps…” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he steeled himself to recall the moments leading up to his mistake. “All I could think about was that Nesta was in danger, and I acted on pure instinct. The hallway was dark, and I was so focused on keeping Nesta safe that I didn’t realize who it was until…,” his voice caught, “until it was too late. When Nesta opened the door it let light into the hall and then I saw what I had done and—Oh gods, Azriel. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“You really had no idea it was her?” Azriel asked quietly.

“I swear I didn’t. I should have, but I didn’t. I never would have reacted like that if I thought there was even a possibility it could be her in the hallway. I don’t know why I didn’t think about it, but I didn’t. I know it’s not enough, but I am truly sorry,” Cassian said. When Azriel didn’t respond he kept talking, verging on babbling apologies. “By the Mother, I can’t imagine how it felt for you, seeing your mate like that, feeling her fear. I’m horrified by what happened and I hate myself for it. And— and I understand if you hate me for it too.” Silence hung between them for a long moment before Azriel spoke.

“I don’t,” Azriel sighed. “I was angry. I am angry. But I don’t hate you.”

“I never meant to hurt her. I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. I never meant to hurt you, either, Az.”

“I know. And as much as I want to kill somebody over what happened, you’re still my brother.” Cassian heaved a sigh of relief, his eyes shining when they met Azriel’s. He stepped forward, enveloping his brother in a bear hug.

“Thank you,” was all Cassian said. When Azriel pulled away, the tension in the air was largely gone.

“I still have to beat the shit out of you, though.”

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

To say you were relieved to see Azriel and Cassian walking back together was an understatement. The pair were talking casually, as though they had gone on a simple walk, and you could feel Azriel more relaxed through the bond. Your smile faltered, however, when you realized both Fae were quite bloody, with Cassian sporting a nasty gash across his cheekbone. “I thought you said you were going to talk to him, Azriel.”

Azriel gave his best impression of innocence as he approached you, “We did talk. We worked everything out.” You scanned him for injuries and found him relatively unharmed, then turned to Cassian, worry written on your face.

“It had to happen, Y/N,” despite the blood dripping from his face, Cassian was grinning. “And I deserved that and worse.” His expression melded into a more serious one as he stepped forward, glancing at Azriel in a silent bid for permission. The Shadowsinger nodded but stayed close to your side, one arm sliding around your waist. His shadows were even less enthusiastic about the approaching male and swirled around you frantically, hissing at Azriel to get you to safety.

Up close, Cassian could clearly see the still healing bruises on your neck and winced, resisting the urge to rub his own neck in sympathy. He wore an earnest expression when he addressed you. “Y/N. What I did… it might be the worst thing I’ve ever done, and I am so sorry. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make things right again and I hope that, in time, I can earn your trust back.” The waver in his voice broke your heart, and before Azriel could respond you were stepping forward to wrap the General in a hug. Cassian froze.

“It’s alright, Cas. Everyone makes mistakes. I forgive you.” After a moment, he returned your hug, squeezing you tight as he whispered his thanks once more. When you pulled away, both Azriel and his shadows were upon you again, pulling you close to his side. You gave him a slightly admonishing glance and he had the decency to look sheepish. “Well, now that we’ve all realized that this was a misunderstanding, I think it’s time you and Nesta get your house back.”

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

Azriel had tried to talk you into staying at the River House for the night, but you had insisted that the sooner things went back to normal, the better, and that meant staying at the House of Wind with Nesta. Rhysand and Feyre accompanied the four of you back on the pretense of helping Nesta with the nursery, but you knew it was really so Rhysand could play referee if needed. You tried to act normal, ignoring the way your mate stayed glued to your side and pretending not to notice the guilty glances Cassian kept giving your neck. By late in the evening, it became apparent that Azriel really did have a handle on his anger and the High Lord and Lady departed.

When the two of you were alone, once again safe in your shared bedroom, Azriel pulled you close, one hand dancing softly along your neck. The purple had entirely faded from the bruise and within a few days, it would be gone entirely. Still, the shadowsinger gazed upon the marks with a haunted look in his eyes, as though it were a mortal wound. He wore a solemn expression, his eyes distant. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”, you asked.

“Thinking about what would have happened if Nesta hadn’t woken up,” he spoke quietly, the admission laden with unspoken pain.

“But she did,” you replied, raising a hand to stroke his cheek.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t.”

“Well,” you replied after a long moment, leaning forward to touch your forehead to his. “Luckily for you, I’m not that easy to get rid of.” He smiled softly, placing a quick kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I am lucky.”  

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

Taglist - This Series:

@issybee0611 @mulansaucey @we-were-beautiful @wolfyland07 @starlit-terror @imakeangelscry @luv-xoxo

Taglist - All ACOTAR Work:

@answer-the-sirens @microwaveallthedemons

Likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated. Please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list for future fics. Click here to check out my other work.

[thegettingbyp2]

Reader getting super flustered when Johnny is filming for shark week and he's wearing that King outfit. And Johnny notices and teases them about it.

Your Majesty

‘Are you going in the water, (Y/N)?’ Poopies asked you, sitting next to you on the boat that you were on with the other Jackass guys. It was shark week and everyone was doing a Jackass special that fans were getting super excited about. Whilst you didn’t understand the fascination people seemed to have with sharks, you couldn’t help but enjoy how excited all of the other guys were about filming. And you couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t enjoying seeing your husband walking around in just a t-shirt and a pair of shorts for the past few days.

‘Do you really think that I’m going to jump in that water with all the sharks? It’s bad enough being on the boat,’ you replied, raising your eyebrows at Poopies. It wasn’t a secret to the others that you weren’t the biggest fan of boats and the sea but after a lot of convincing from Johnny (which included a lot of sweet nothings being whispered in your ear and a fair few kisses on your neck), you ended up joining them on the boat to watch them film.

‘If you don’t like it, why are you on the boat?’ Poopies asked, confused as to why you’d put yourself through being on the boat if you didn’t like it. To him, it was like if he said he didn’t like snakes and then laid in a box full of them.

‘Pretty sure I had everything to do with why she’s here,’ Johnny said, grinning as he came towards you, soaking wet, wearing his wet suit, having just came out of the water. When he reached you, he pulled you into a tight hug that had you both laughing as you tried to squirm your way out of his hold, feeling the water soak through your own clothes.

‘Let me go,’ you laughed as he buried his head in your neck, freezing cold drops of water from his hair dripping onto your neck.

‘I’ll let you go if you give me a kiss,’ he said, pulling back to look at you with the grin still on his face. Wanting to be able to get in a dry set of clothes as soon as possible, you leaned in to press a quick peck on his lips, only to have him place his hand on the back of your neck, holding you against him as he deepened the kiss, dipping his tongue into your mouth, making you whimper slightly before you pushed him back.

‘PJ, you’re all salty,’ you complained, pulling a face as you felt salt water on your lips, knowing that you’d taste it for the rest of the day.

‘What did you expect? I’ve been in the sea!’ He exclaimed, stepping back from you and holding his hand out, ‘what do you say we go and get you out of these wet clothes,’ he said with a wink that made Poopies, who neither of you had noticed was still there, groan.

‘Really guys? I’m right here, I don’t need to see that!’

‘Fuck off, you’ve seen a lot worse than a kiss between an old married couple,’ Johnny replied, pulling you against him again, making you slap his chest lightly, stepping away.

‘Well, I’m going to go and get changed,’ you said, walking away from Johnny and Poopies.

‘I’m right behind you, doll,’ Johnny said, hurrying after you and picking you up by the waist, carrying you down to the changing area on the boat.

After you had gotten changed into dry clothes, you sat on the sofa below deck, waiting for Johnny to come out so you could go and join the others together. You were flicking through your phone, getting slightly impatient when you remembered that you didn’t have any signal out at sea as Johnny poked his head around the door, his eyes lighting up when they landed on you.

‘Are you ready to see what I’m wearing for this next bit?’ he asked excitedly.

‘Why?’ You said carefully, never knowing what Johnny would be wearing. With a grand flourish, Johnny pushed the door fully open and stepped though. Your jaw immediately dropped when you took in his appearance which only made Johnny double over laughing.

‘No, stand back up!’ You protested, ‘I need to see the whole outfit!’

Standing back up you could take in the sight that was in front of you. Johnny was standing there with a pair of black swimming shorts and his bare chest on display, a sight that you would never grow tired of. Over his shoulders was a regal, Kings cape and perched on top of his silver hair was a crown. The look was obviously completed with his signature sunglasses. No matter how much (or little) you tried, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his beautifully toned chest.

You stood from your seat and made your way over to Johnny, stepping in between his arms which were held out for you and you wrapped your arms around his waist, underneath the cape, smirking when you felt his body shiver at the feel of your cold hands on his skin. ‘So, I’m going to assume that this is a positive reaction,’ he said, looking down at you.

‘Oh it’s a very positive reaction,’ you said as you leant back, still keeping your arms around him as you took in his appearance again. You felt your cheeks burn when he slid his hands down over your ass, squeezing slightly.

‘And I think we both know what I’ll find if I slide my fingers underneath your panties, hmm,’ he said condescendingly, knowing that it always turned you on when he spoke like that. He reached down to grip the back of your thighs but before he had the chance to lift you up, you stepped away from his grasp. ‘Aw, c’mon sweetheart,’ he whined when he realised that you weren’t going to give him what he wanted.

‘Anyone could walk in, Your Majesty,’ you said and giggled as you watched Johnny’s eyes darken underneath his sunglasses at your words.

‘Well I believe that it isn’t customary to keep your King waiting,’ he said lowly, slowly stepping towards you, only for you to surprise him by taking a step closer to him so your nose was brushing against his chest.

‘I also believe that a King doesn’t fuck his Queen where any of his subjects could walk in and see,’ you said before rising on your toes to whisper in his ear. ‘Though I’m sure when we get home, there’ll be a lady waiting for you in bed.’ Your words caused a groan to vibrate through his chest as you felt his erection prod your thigh and you pressed a kiss to his bare chest before turning around and walking back up the stairs to join everyone else on deck, making sure to give your husband a show as you went.