#sorry for the delay oof

[ariadnes-elixirs]

thinking about an isekaied reader and a yandere noble boy...

(gn reader x male yandere)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

tw: gaslighting, manipulative and just general yandere behavior

as oliver speaks, your intuition tells you that something is very wrong. you start by asking simple questions, such as how you began seeing each other, why you both kept it a secret from your parents, and so on.

the thing that unsettled you was his perfect response to every question you threw at him, even some of them didn't logically make sense.

after asking series of questions about your relationship with him, you decided to bring up a slightly different topic. your gaze shifts to your shoes, and you find yourself fidgeting with your hands. your voice wavers as you struggle to find a delicate way to bring up the topic.

"oliver... just... who are you?"

he momentarily looks surprised, before his expression shifts back to the kind and gentle mask of a face you've familiarized yourself with over his past couple visits. he gently brushes his fingers over your right hand, pulling it away from the other and close to his chest. the action causes you to shift the way you are sitting in order to face him. now fully facing him, he maintains eye contact as he replies with a smile, "i am oliver northwood, your childhood friend and lover."

your eyes dart away from his for a second. you feel that wave of guilt wash over you once again, but you just can't get rid of that seed of doubt. the beautiful words he speaks leaves a bitter aftertaste and you cannot rid the feeling of unease. the way he looks at you, his insistence on placing your full focus on him, the way he smiles oh so softly with eyes that look oh so... uncertain.

his eyes. his big blue eyes. filled with nothing but love and adoration for you. it made you feel guilty.

"i am aware, oliver, i just... who are you? i'm not asking about your name, your title, none of that... just... who are you?"

before he can speak, you keep talking, "you've mentioned our families, our relationship, our history, but nothing about yourself. just who is oliver northwood, and what does he want with... me?"

you've been in this world for a while now, you've dug through what feels like hundreds of textbooks and scrolls, asked your parents dozens of questions, but you cannot place who or where you are. no game, comic, movie, or book you can recall from your past life has ever contained an "oliver northwood".

everything about him just feels wrong. it's obvious that you don't belong here, but he hasn't questioned you at all. you know from the reactions of your parents and the staff of the estate that the way you act is clearly different from the way the person previously inhabiting this body acted. but even still, oliver either didn't notice or didn't care.

you thoughts are still racing as his soft, sweet voice brings you out of your anxiety induced trace.

"well, i am just a boy who is completely and totally in love with his best friend. nothing more, nothing less."

he smiles at you, and oh, he smiles so sweetly.

his smile almost makes you forget. forget the feeling of his hands on yours, the feeling of unease in your chest as he looks at you.

forget the other questions plaguing your mind. forget the questions like how he managed to make his way to your estate on a near daily basis with no one questioning who he is, how he got there, or why he is there.

questions about his lingering touch and unwillingness to talk about others while the two of you were together.

questions about where he is actually from or where he actually lives.

questions about why he holds your hands a little tighter than he should.

questions about how he knows way more about you than he should possibly know.

but his smile.

it feels like almost every doubt gets washed away by that smile. the unease in you chest never fades, even if your mind is mostly at ease.

oliver northwood.

a strange boy.

a strange boy that knows you a little too well and holds your hands a little too tight.

but it's alright.

even if you feel uncertain or you memory is spotty, he will continue loving you.

he will hold you oh so gently, and smile at you oh so sweetly no matter how many questions you ask or how anxious you become.

because he loves you.

he always will.

even if he has to start from scratch every now and then when you trust the feeling in your gut telling you to run.

but it's alright.

he would never purposely hurt you. he would never cause you pain.

he just wants you to love him like he loves you.

in the meantime, he will continue being patient and answering any questions you have.

as long as he gets to have his flower in the end.

a/n: :)

[snowcotes]

He knew he looked good

[2aceofspades]

I only just realized the art on the top of your page is a redraw :')

I thought it was an actual picture of the scene from the movie XD

Hehe yeah I got bored so I thought I'd redraw it in my style. If I ever change my banner tho it'll probably be another redraw 😁✨ I might change it to something with Raphie and the blue guy just cuz..

(:

[abybweisse]

What if Snake realizes he's been lied all this time and plans revenge against Ciel? It feels like it's going to that direction and it will be sad since it would mean Sebastian would have to kill him. I love Snake so Yana-sensei should not get to that point 😭

Doll just recognized him-

I'm so sorry this ask has been sitting in my inbox for so long.

Now it seems that Snake won't have to worry about Sebastian killing him....

[gudvina]

i am almost done with the chapter!!!

[cloudedangels]

A TEST OF CONTROL (18+)

2.3k words. PART 1/? not for minors! shoo!

Pt 2 -> here ♡ Pt 3 -> here

After being stood up three times, MC decides Caleb won’t earn her forgiveness without enduring some playful punishment. What starts as teasing quickly becomes a torturous test of Caleb’s self-control as she takes charge, drawing out every ounce of his restraint.

(Self-Indulgent and heavily inspired by 2-3 of Caleb’s lines in the cafe)

cw/tags: f!MC(reader), slow burn, unresolved sexual tension, dom!mc, sub!caleb, pilot!caleb, established relationship, teasing, punishment kink, edging, light power play, breath, withheld pleasure, delayed gratification, soft dom/sub, emotional tension, begging, dirty talk, gravity evol, fluff and smut, romantic smut, pining, touch, reward/punishment, kisses all over, oral tease, tension relief, switch dynamics, intimacy, NSFW, dominant/submissive, dubcon (mild), restraint, light pain play (scratching), suggestive language, mature themes, power imbalance, sensory teasing

MC is getting very, very annoyed with Caleb. He's canceled spending time with her twice with “emergency business” for the fleet. And even though when things like this happened before, Caleb tried his best to make it up to her, this time she figured she wouldn't be pleased until he received what she deems as a fair punishment. She sits on her couch, arms folded, waiting and waiting.  ‘I can't believe he canceled two days in a row and still has the nerve to be late today!!’

She flips through channels before hearing light boots and the sound of dangling keys. Then a soft rhythm of knocks follows. 

“It's open.”

She hears the soft click of the door but doesn't get up from the couch. Instead, she turns away and pouts, her head resting on the armrest. The footsteps come closer until Caleb is in front of her face, squatting down to eye level. 

“Hi, pipsqueak. Are you mad at me?” His big pretty eyes look like a sad puppy's.

“Guess.” She pokes him in the forehead with her finger, frustrated at how fast she wants to forgive him. “I was excited to see you. Two days ago, yesterday, this morning…” She scowls.

Caleb tries to hide a smirk at how bratty she's acting, knowing this show she puts on is a necessary and very cute step towards quick and easy forgiveness.

“I'm sorry, cutie,  you know I hate making you wait. The fleet—”

She pushes a finger to his lips before he can finish. “Shh. It's done anyways, no use explaining it again. But… I still haven't come up with a proper way to punish you.” She sits up properly on the couch and turns off the TV, the motion turning her away from him. But not before seeing his somewhat surprised expression.

He comes to sit next to her on the couch and suddenly her head is being turned to him. “Punish me however you like, I'm all yours, pips” She glares at the use of his gravity evol and shoves him onto his back as soon as he lets go of her face. 

“However I want, hm?” She hums.

Caleb lets out a soft “oof” as he lands on his back, laughing under his breath. His arm flops over his forehead like he's fainted. “Ah, Cruel Mistress, striking a defenseless man,” he groans dramatically.

MC narrows her eyes. “You don't look very sorry.”

He peeks at her through his fingers. “Maybe I'm just waiting to see what my punishment is.”

She climbs over him slowly, straddling his hips, and he swallows a bit too obviously. Her hands rest on his chest, steady, firm.

“You made me wait,” she says, low. “You got my hopes up. And you know how I get when I'm disappointed.”

He nods quickly. “You get pouty.”

“And a little mean,” she adds with a smirk, “Don’t you dare forget that.”

“Dangerous combination.” His voice is breathy now, no more teasing. “What are you going to do to me, pipsqueak?”

She leans in close, brushing her nose along his jaw. “You’ll find out. But not all at once. You’ll get it in doses… like I got my disappointment.”

His breath gets a bit heavy. There's no hiding the rises and falls of his chest as he searches for ways of maintaining control of himself. He doesn't touch her, his arms slack at his sides, his right arm hanging off the side of the couch. 

MC looks him in the eyes now, her face centimeters from him, and something dubious lights her expression. She holds his face in her two hands, their breath still mingling softly as Caleb searches her face for her next move, holding himself completely still. Her hips press into his abdomen, her arms across his chest,  her head tilted as she moves his chin down to look at her. “I know what I will do.”

He swallows again his Adam's apple bobbing. “Yeah? What is it, then?” His voice is a bit husky and low, she can almost hear the restraint. 

“Your self-control test is in order, I think.” She whispers into his ear, the action making him shiver beneath her. 

“My self-control test?” He says softly, eyes darting across her face for any sign of not meaning what she said. “Then do you want me to pass with flying colors... or fail miserably?”

She hums, low and thoughtful, the sound skimming along the shell of his ear. “That depends…”

Her fingers trail from his jawline down to the collar of his shirt, brushing barely-there touches that make him twitch under her. Her hips shift just a little, barely, but enough to remind him who’s in control.

“On?” he asks, and it’s a little breathless, a little desperate.

She meets his eyes again, her expression unreadable for a beat. Then, with a wicked little smile:

“On how entertaining your struggle is.”

He lets out a breath that sounds like a laugh caught in a groan. “Oh, I see. You want a show.”

MC nods, mock-innocent. “I waited three days. Seems fair I get some entertainment.”

“Then I hope you enjoy watching a man fall apart, your highness,” he mutters, trying to keep still even as her hands dip just under the hem of his shirt, palms warm against his skin.

She pauses, enjoying the tension curling tight between them. “You’re not allowed to move unless I say so,” she adds, brushing her lips against his cheek – but not quite kissing him. “And no evol. If I even feel a tug of gravity...”

“I won’t,” he promises instantly. “No evol. No hands. No movement. Just...” Torture.

She chuckles, finally settling her weight more firmly on his hips. “Exactly.”

His hands clench at his sides, his breathing uneven, and she can feel the tight coil of restraint beneath her like a drawn string.

“I should be mad at you more often,” she muses aloud. “You’re kind of cute like this.”

He closes his eyes with a strained smile breathing softly out his nose in an ironic chuckle. “Glad I can be of service.”

“Good,” she whispers, and leans in again. “Because I’ve just barely gotten started.”

His eyes flicker open at that, dark with anticipation and lust. She sees it all –  how tightly he's wound, how badly he wants to move, touch her, flip them over. And she also sees how hard he's trying not to. Her hands, splayed open, find their way slowly up his torso as she moves her hips, straddling him lower. He bites his lips, eyebrows knitted, breath catching as she can feel through their pants exactly how much he's holding back.

“Take your shirt off, Caleb.”

He doesn’t move. Not at first.

His eyes search hers, questioning, hopeful, desperate for permission, because technically, that would mean breaking the rules. And she's made those rules very clear.

So she just raises an eyebrow. “Huh? You need help understanding basic commands now, Pilot?”

That’s all it takes.

Caleb sits up slightly, just enough to reach behind his neck and pull the shirt over his head in one smooth motion, jaw tight the entire time. She watches the shift in his shoulders, the flex of restraint even in something so simple. He drops the shirt to the floor beside the couch without taking his eyes off her.

“Much better,  good boy.” She drags her palms across his now heaving chest, letting her nails trace faintly, enough to make him suck in a breath through his teeth. She's always loved his muscles, and as they flex with tightly bound desire she drinks him in with her gaze and careful touch.  

“Remind me to never upset you again…” he groans, laying back down as she pushes him gently. 

“You won't forget, I'm sure.” She smirks at him, truly enjoying him being so helpless.

“Please, can I fail just a little, pipsqueak?” He begs huskily, almost making her weak enough to forget her plan, but it's not enough.

“No way. Pass this with flying colors like you have everything else, my sweet Valedictorian. Perfect marks. Be a good boy.”

He nearly whimpers and she revels in it. 

“You’re taking this seriously,” she whispers, letting a finger trace the edge of his ribcage, “I appreciate the effort.”

“I’m trying so hard,” he grits, voice tight, strained, barely holding onto control. “You have no idea.”

“Oh but I do.” She grins devilishly at that, leaning in and planting a kiss to his throat. 

He trembles beneath her. His muscles are tense, breathing shallow– but he doesn't move. Doesn't grab, and he doesn't flip her over like she can tell he's dying to. His pulse thumps erratically against her lips.

“Three days,” she mutters softly, breath hot against his throat. “Do you know what that does to a girl?”

“I’m learning,” he groans, eyes fluttering shut like he can’t take looking at her anymore without breaking her so called “rules”.

She leans in again, lips at the shell of his ear. “And if I decide I don’t want to let you pass this test?”

He grunts – wound up, helpless, so full of wanting it cuts through the air like static. “Then I’ll fail spectacularly,” he whispers, “but only if you make me. I'm already on the edge of it.”

She giggles softly, unable to contain how that pleases her. Her hands delicately grace his throat, resting there as she kisses just below his ear, then his jaw, the corner of his lips.  She slides her hands down his trembling body like reading scripture in braille as she kisses his throat (twice), his chest, his ribs… 

When her hands rest they are on either side of his waist, thumbs brushing up and down his stomach. His fists clench as she kisses his sternum, just above his belt, darting her tongue out for a millisecond. He twitches his hands, and in his pants. 

“I'm one move away from failing, MC," his voice is a husky groan as his head is thrown back, hands balled into shaking fists. "Is this a punishment... or...?”

“…Or?” she echoes, voice low, breath warm against his skin. She doesn’t lift her head. She just hovers there, lips parted just above the line of his belt, her fingers now resting unbearably light over his hip bones. The control in her touch is both maddening and deliberate. Calculated.

“...Do you want to keep going?” Caleb’s voice is gruff, harsh with self-control and want. “If you keep going, I won't be… able… to let you off the hook. Even if you claim you're doing… it on a whim…” He's breathless, frustrated, his knuckles turning white with gripped restraint. 

Her reply is syrupy and as sweet as it is torturous. “Shh… Are you forgetting” Another kiss to his sternum... “Who” A kiss to the cool metal of his buckle. “Is in charge?” Her breath hovers below his belt, her mouth centimeters away from his clothed arousal.

“Please…” Caleb chokes out,  desperately hanging by a tight thread of control. 

She lifts her head at this, allowing the word to linger in the air for just a moment before responding with a sweetened smile and a whispering voice. “You sound so desperate, Caleb… I like this… the sound of you begging for me… Music to my ears.”

He groans and it's deep and guttural, pained pleasure wrapped in reverence. His eyes flutter open, just enough to meet hers through the haze of desire and restraint.

“That’s because I am desperate,” he grits, voice shaking. “For you.”

Her lips curl into something between a smirk and a smile, satisfaction, maybe. Or mercy, laced with a promise she hasn’t decided to grant yet.

“You’re doing so well,” she whispers, almost mockingly tender as her fingers dip just under the waistband of his pants, but don’t venture further. Her touch is light, barely there, a spark without flame. “And you’ve been so obedient.”

His hips twitch, bucking just slightly beneath her, involuntary, restrained.

“I told you,” he breathes, “I’ll do anything. Just… please.”

She hums again, eyes half-lidded. “Mmm… you almost sound like you're sorry.”

“I am sorry,” he groans. “I’m so sorry.”

That does it.

She sits up slowly, eyes locked with his, hands dragging up his sides as she speaks.

“Good. Because only good boys get what they want.” A beat. “And you’ve been so good for me.”

He barely has time to exhale before she leans in again, this time with intent.

And then, all at once, she kisses him hard, pushing him flat against the couch again as the dam of tension finally, finally snaps. His hands rise, cautiously at first, then urgently, moving to grip her waist, as he grounds himself in the fact that yes, finally, the test is over.

She moves to unbutton his pants and undo his belt,  pulling it out of his pants and tossing it to the floor with a clank. Suddenly, Caleb's evol is hovering her above him, suspending her in air until he flips their positions. 

He's lifted up above her his hands and buff arms on either side of her head. “I might… fuck” he kisses her collarbone while moving one arm to take off her shirt. She lifts her arms as he pulls it up and off her, and the fabric joins his on the floor.

“You might what?” She asks him, her voice cracking with anticipation.

He bites her neck, drawing a mangled moan from her at last. He's breathing like an animal and already damp with sweat. “I might have… run out… of self control.” 

“You earned it… do your worst– and don’t make me wait for it.” She mutters, gripping him tightly. Knowing that with him, she always gets what she wants. One way or another.

[2aceofspades]

'' 🐹 '' *petting you like a hamster*

pat pat pat

:)

🐹 for “You? Intimidating? Hell no.”

WAH thank you Cha 🥹♥️✨!!

Gah- you're too sweet/pos pos pos

(:

[helloalycia]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

one / three / masterlist / wattpad

summary: as you and Skye try to relearn how to be friends again, you realise it’s harder than you thought.

warning/s: mentions of injury, substance abuse, poor mental health and basically everything Skye goes through oof.

author's note: here’s part 2! so sorry it was delayed, i’ve been stuffed with cold for the past few days so didn’t have chance to share it. Hope this makes up for it anyway :)

"...and I'm just outside your building now," I said to Skye over the phone, lingering outside.

"I was just about to call," she said in a rushed voice, sounding apologetic. "I'm running late, but I'm almost there. Give or take ten minutes. You can head straight up. The doorman knows to let you in and the spare key is in the same place as always."

I hesitated at her response.

It wasn't a big deal, I'd been to her apartment many times, but it had also been a year since I'd last been and it felt strange to go up alone. Especially because I was just supposed to be meeting her to go out, not actually going inside.

"Oh, I can just wait outside, it's okay," I said, maybe a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to notice.

"No, it's fine, you head up, I'll be with you soon," she assured me, before I heard a sound in the background. "I gotta go. See you in ten!"

I chewed my lip before putting my phone away and heading straight inside. As Skye said, the doorman recognised me and let me straight up, and it felt odd. The last time I'd been in the lift, I was crying on the way down from that awful argument between Skye and I. I hadn't been back since – I'd had no need to. But now...

It wasn't the same, I had to remind myself of that. She wasn't the same. None of this was.

Over the past few weeks, we'd somewhat returned to how things used to be, but it was all baby steps. Being each other's friend was second nature, and yet moments like this sometimes had me stumbling in the dark.

I found her door at the end of the hall, digging out the spare key from behind the framed painting next to it. A stupid place to keep it I'd always thought, but the whole place was guarded anyway so it didn't matter.

After opening the door, I returned the key to its spot before letting myself in. Everything looked the same as I last remembered it, and I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I'd missed it. I still remembered when she bought it and moved in, after her career picked up overnight. We'd had countless movie nights here, sleepovers that lasted days sometimes, and it just brought back so many memories. Good, as well as bad, but I tried not to focus on the latter.

I began to walk around aimlessly, waiting for her to return, eyeing the cabinet full of awards, the framed albums, admiring the penthouse view from her living room, and then I came across some framed photos hung on the wall. Some were of her and her mum when she was a kid, others were as she grew up, and then I spotted a familiar one.

It was a photo of Skye performing her first ever single on her first ever TV appearance years ago, and it was a photo taken by me, one of my first professional gigs as a photographer. A small smile tugged at my lips, realising she hadn't taken it down. I was touched that she kept it.

The door opening made me glance away and see Skye rushing in, looking a bit dishevelled. When she spotted me, she smiled with relief.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to run late," she said as she closed the door behind her.

"It's fine," I said dismissively, before joking, "You know, you're a little too trustworthy. It's been a year. I totally could have come up here and, like, I don't know, robbed you or something. Sold your shit on eBay."

She tossed her bag to the couch as she laughed quietly, quirking a brow. "Oh, really? A year and you've suddenly turned into a criminal?"

"I could've."

"What a personality change."

I laughed as she stopped by my side, nudging me in the arm slightly, before her gaze fell to the photos hung on the wall.

"Ah, going through memory lane, I see," she teased lightheartedly.

I glanced at her with a slight smile. "It's cute that you've still got it. Even if it is a terrible photo."

"It's not," she said with a chuckle, looking at it with pride. "It's a two in one, I had to keep it. My first TV appearance and the day I met you. It just makes it extra special that you took the photo."  

My cheeks grew warm at her words, and I found myself staring at her profile as she smiled reminiscently at the photo. We'd come so far since then and yet I still did a double take whenever I looked to her. Maybe some things hadn't changed...

"I'm just gonna change my clothes and then we can head out," she said after a moment. "Won't be long."

"It's cool, take your time," I said with a nod, watching as she went to her room, before looking back to the photo and finding myself smiling all over again.

—

Becoming friends with Skye again made it easy to remember all the best parts of having a friendship with her, so much that I almost forgot what led to everything being ruined in the first place.

Of course there was the substance abuse, but the reason for that was the anxieties and stresses that came with being one of the most popular celebrities in the world. And it definitely didn't help that Skye never had a lot of support from her team, who only ever saw her as a commodity. Clearly that hadn't changed.

I'd just finished some work one morning and had plans to hang out with Skye after, maybe catch a movie or something as she had the day off, we hadn't really decided. But when I called her, she answered groggily.

"Hey, Skye, you good?" I asked jokingly.

She made a sound like a yawn before humming. "Yes, sorry, I was just napping. Just been tired."

"Oh, I was calling to say I'm free now, but we can rearrange if–"

"No, no, I want to see you," she cut me off with assurance, forcing herself to sound more lively. "A movie, right? Or lunch?"

I tried not to snicker. "Skye, it's your day off and you sound exhausted. It's alright."

"I'm fine, honest," she said confidently, or an attempt at it. "Please, I was looking forward to seeing you."

I sighed, debating whether or not to listen to her. Then, I thought of a solution. "How about we stay in? I can come to yours and we can watch a movie there?"

"Yes, I'd love that," she said with a hint of relief. "Thank you. I'll get the blankets warmed up in the dryer, ready for your arrival."

I laughed quietly. "Sounds good. I'll bring some snacks and be over soon."

And just like that, we both kept to our word and got comfortable on her couch barely half an hour later. Snacks were laid out on the coffee table whilst two fluffy blankets covered us completely. Still, we leaned against each other for warmth.

Skye was definitely burnt out, her general enthusiasm diminished temporarily and her movements sluggish, but she was smiling all the same as she spent time with me. I knew she meant it, but it still worried me that she wasn't getting enough time to simply rest.

"How's tour stuff going?" I asked as she loaded up a film on Netflix.

She shrugged as she focused on the task at hand. "Alright. Been busy. You know how it can get."

I glanced at her. "I do."

She must have noticed my staring as she stopped what she was doing and looked over at me with an amused smile. "What?"

"Nothing," I said nonchalantly, looking to the TV. "Just remember that you can take a break if you need to. It's important or you'll risk burning out."

She sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder and playing with the blanket mindlessly. "I know. I am."

"Enough breaks," I clarified, watching her hands play with it. "I mean, your team are supportive, I'm sure, but they don't always know what's best for you."

She snorted with amusement, glancing up at me. "And you do?"

I met her gaze, half playful and half serious. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I'll always be an advocate of you taking a freakin' break."

She suppressed a smile as she nudged me appreciatively. "You're right. I will. I guess I've just been busy making sure everything is perfect. It has to be, you know? Especially after everything."

"I know," I said sympathetically. "I get it. Just... take care of yourself. Please."

She nodded, though sunk further into the couch as she laced her hands around my arm to get comfortable, almost like she was ending the conversation without saying so. I took the hint and looked back to the screen.

"Picked a film yet?" I asked.

"Almost."

—

Despite how easy it was to fall back into everything with Skye, there were still topics we didn't discuss. Like we never brought up our friendship-ending argument again, or her time in rehab, and she never talked about the accident. It wasn't that I didn't leave that space open for her to discuss, but it was definitely her way of keeping that separate by not bringing it up. And naturally, I didn't want to force her to relive it by bringing it up either.

But not talking about it meant I didn't always know how to help her.

We were walking around a park near her apartment one evening, enjoying a stroll at first, but then we started to mess around on some of the playing equipment since the place was deserted.

"You really think you can clear it in ten seconds?" I asked her with a laugh as she looked up at the monkey bars.

"I do, yeah," she said, mirroring my laughter as she glanced at me. "You just watch. Go on. Grab your phone. Timer at the ready please."

Curious, I pulled out my phone and stepped back, finger hovering over the timer. "Ready when you are, idiot."

She grinned before standing beneath the monkey bars. Looking up at them, she took a deep breath, about to jump up, but I intentionally interrupted to throw her off.

"You sure you don't wanna stretch first?"

She jumped and glared at me playfully. "Shut up. Just get ready."

I laughed and waited patiently, watching as she readied herself once more. And then she jumped up to grab the bars and I started the timer.

She managed to move down three bars before faltering at the fourth one and then letting go all of a sudden. My eyes widened when she landed on the tarmac with a sharp gasp, and I forgot all about the stupid timer as I rushed to check on her.

"Shit, Skye, you okay?" I asked quickly, kneeling down beside her.

Her face contorted in pain as her hand clutched her back. She was leaning on her elbow, clearly hurt.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she muttered quickly, though she winced and her eyes were squeezing shut to suppress the pain.

I noticed she was holding her back – not really putting together that it was from her existing back pain from the accident – and tried to help by reaching for her jacket to see if she'd hurt it from the fall.

"No!" she suddenly shouted when she saw me attempting to touch her, and I jumped.

"Okay, sorry, sorry," I apologised, not wanting to overwhelm or upset her anymore than she already was.

I moved my hand back, but she grabbed it and squeezed gently before I could, an attempt at an apology for her outburst. A shaky sigh escaped her lips as she breathed out the pain, and I didn't say anything more as I held her hand, waiting patiently. Though my heart was clenching with concern the longer she took.

"It hurts sometimes," she finally spoke, avoiding my eyes, "from the accident. That's all."

When I realised it was much more than just falling from the monkey bars, I felt stupid and spoke without thinking. "Do you have medicine?"

She tensed her jaw as she glanced at me.

"Stupid question, sorry," I realised, grimacing.

She let go of my hand and shook her head, expression softening. "No, it wasn't."

Something was bothering her, more than the pain, but now wasn't the time to ask, so I settled on helping her stand up.

"Maybe we should call it a night," I said carefully. "It's getting late anyway."

She nodded, still avoiding my eyes, and we both walked back to her apartment in an awkward silence. A million things were running through my mind, mostly out of concern for Skye, and acknowledging my utter stupidity. For once, I couldn't read her.

When we reached the lobby inside, we paused by the lift.

"Are you okay?" I asked, trying to dial down my worry for her sake.

"Yes, sorry," she muttered.

"It's fine," I assured her, eyes scanning her expression as she purposely looked at my shirt and not me. "I didn't mean to overstep before. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

She shook her head, eyes flickering to mine briefly, sad, before looking down to her shoes. "You didn't. I just–"

She paused, a moment too long, enough to make me wonder what had her so uneasy.

"It's not pretty," she finally spoke, quieter than usual. "The... the scar. It's..."

"You don't need to explain," I said, when she didn't speak anymore, though my heart ached with concern, soon realising her uneasiness was embarrassment. An unnecessary embarrassment at that, as if I'd care about a scar when she was still here, alive.

I gave her a moment, hoping she'd say something more, but she didn't.

"Will you be okay?" I asked worriedly, not wanting to leave her tonight if her back was flaring up.

She nodded. "Yeah."

I nodded too, though was unsure how to say my goodbyes. Usually I'd go in for a hug, but she was already uncomfortable with me touching her before and the last thing I wanted was to do that again.

But then she finally looked up, eyes meeting mine gratefully, before she hugged me.

"Thanks for not thinking I'm weird," she mumbled into my shoulder, arms wrapped around them tightly.

I returned the hug gently. "I could never."

She didn't let go straight away and neither did I, not until she made the first move since clearly she needed this hug more than I did.

Finally, she pulled apart and offered me a small smile. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight," I said, returning her smile, before reluctantly leaving her.

—

It was the first time we'd even come close to talking about the accident and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. She wasn't opening up and I wondered if she felt like she couldn't. But maybe that incident was the key, because things changed soon after.

About a week later, I was fast asleep when I woke up to my phone vibrating on my bedside table. Confused, I cracked an eye open, wondering who could be calling in the middle of the night, but then the vibrating stopped. I considered if I cared that much, before deciding it could've been an emergency and checking who it was.

When I saw Skye's name, I woke up a little more, overcome with concern since she'd never called like this before. Immediately, I rang her back. It took two rings before she picked up.

"Hello?" she answered with confusion.

Still half asleep, I answered groggily, "Why are you confused? You just called me."

She sighed. "I did. Sorry. I cut it off when I realised."

She sounded different, her voice hoarse.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up in bed and rubbing my eyes.

"Sorry, I just–" She tutted at herself. "It's late, Y/N, go back to sleep."

Even half conscious, I knew she wasn't okay. "Skye."

It went quiet, but she gave in, to my relief. "I had a bad dream," she admitted quietly. "I just wanted to distract myself. I didn't mean to wake you."

I frowned to myself. "Are you okay?"

A shaky sigh escaped her lips. "I will be. Really, just go to sleep, I'll be fine."

"I can't sleep knowing you're by yourself," I told her, too tired to hide my worry.

She paused, and then her voice came out guiltily, "Sorry."

"Don't apologise," I said gently, before asking, "Do you want me to come over?"

"No," she answered quickly, before adding, "It's late. I don't want you up and about this late into the night."

I was already pulling my duvet off and sitting at the edge of my bed as I said, "It's not a problem, Skye." It went quiet on her end, so I prompted, "Skye?"

"You don't mind?" she asked hesitantly.

Realising she did in fact want me there, I tried to reassure her. "No, of course not. I can come now."

She practically held her breath. "I owe you."

"You don't."

Exhaling softly, she said, "I'll send a cab to get you. I'll cover the cost. I don't want you on public transport in New York when all the weirdos are out."

I cracked a small smile. "Okay, Skye, see you soon."

Sounding relieved, she said, "See you soon."

I yawned as I hung up, trying to move quickly but still trying to wake up and so unintentionally moving at snail speed. After packing a small bag, including a change of clothes and some toiletries, I pulled on my shoes and a jacket before leaving for Skye's.

The taxi ride wasn't long since the streets weren't busy, and I found myself at Skye's door in less than twenty minutes. As soon as I knocked, she opened up.

"Hey," I said with a tired smile, before hugging her in greeting. "How are you?"

She hugged me back and let me in, closing the door behind me. I noticed she was wearing her pyjamas, hair dishevelled and eyes a little red.

"Better now," she admitted, before frowning. "I'm sorry I woke you up. But I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad you did," I told her, before leaving my bag by the kitchen counter. "So, what do you want to do?"

"You're tired," she noticed.

I waved a hand dismissively, trying to look more awake. "I can stay awake if you want, Skye."

She sighed, shaking her head, before wordlessly grabbing my hand and dragging me to her bedroom.

"Come on," she said as she climbed into her queen sized bed, so I got out of my shoes and jacket and followed suit, settling in beside her.

We laid on our backs, staring up at the ceiling in silence. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I glanced at her, her expression dimly lit by the moonlight and lights shining through her blinds. She was weary, though attempting to hide it.

"Do you have bad dreams often?" I asked curiously.

She swallowed visibly. "Not as much as I used to, but... sometimes, yeah." She paused, as if stuck in an internal debate, before admitting, "It was about the accident."

At the mention of the accident, the air in the room felt charged with uncertainty, and Skye's jaw tensed slightly.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked tenderly, and when she didn't reply, I quickly added, "Or you don't have to at all."

Her dark eyes flickered to mine, surprisingly calm. "It's okay. It's just– it's a lot. And when I'm alone, it's..."

"A lot," I finished for her.

She nodded, looking back up at the ceiling. "Yeah."

I found her hand between us, squeezing it gently in support.

"I remember how difficult it was after," she muttered. "That, and the withdrawals, and all of it – it was a lot. Being in the hospital... I had my mum, but it felt so lonely."

I frowned as she recalled the experience, hearing it for the first time from her lips. And then she looked over at me and I looked back, realising there were tears in her eyes.

"Why didn't you come?" she asked, voice cracking and eyes welling up. "I wanted you to visit so bad. I– I thought you would."

Not expecting that, I struggled to speak. "I told you, Skye, I thought you wouldn't want me there. I..."

She let go of my hand and wiped her eyes shamefully, looking away. I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbow to look down at her, not wanting her to bottle everything up now.

"I waited," she whispered. "Every day, hoping you'd come to see me."

My heart crumbled at her words, guilt pressing down on my chest. "I'm sorry."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "It's not your fault, I know that. But I just..."

With the nightmare still fresh and her recollection of the past at the forefront of her mind, I knew her emotions were heightened and she was overwhelmed, and it hurt to witness.

I pulled her into my chest for a hug, rubbing her back gently. "I wish I had. I wanted nothing more than to see you then, Skye, truly. But I'm here now. I promise."

She didn't say anything, but she didn't pull away either. Her sniffles were heard in the silence of the room and she kept a firm grip on my tee shirt, and I didn't know what else to do other than continue to rub her back soothingly.

At some point, we must have dosed off like that because when I opened my eyes next, it was morning. I yawned as I rubbed my face, confused to where I was at first. And then I recognised Skye's room and it all came back to me.

I looked beside me, seeing Skye fast asleep, face smushed against her pillow adorably. She looked a lot better than she did last night and I was glad for it, seriously worried about her. Hopefully she'd gotten some sleep after everything.

Trying not to stare too long, reminding myself that it wasn't very platonic of me, I looked away and carefully clambered out of her bed to freshen up. After doing so, I went into her kitchen to find something to eat.

I was eating from a bowl of cereal at her kitchen island when I heard footsteps, looking up to see her leaving her bedroom.

"Good morning," I greeted. "How are you feeling?"

She hummed tiredly, yawning and running a hand through her dishevelled hair. I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked.

"Better," she finally spoke, brown eyes meeting mine across the counter. "Thanks, Y/N. For coming last night."

I shrugged. "It's okay."

She sighed, shaking her head, and looked down thoughtfully. After a moment, she said, "I know I haven't talked to you much about it all."

My expression softened. "I don't expect you to."

"I know," she said quietly, before meeting my gaze. "I want to. I do. Otherwise the way I am, how I act... it doesn't make sense and I don't want you to feel confused or think I'm insane or–"

"Hey," I cut her off, furrowing my brows. "I don't think that, Skye."

She chewed her lip momentarily, eyes flickering to the counter top. "I want you to know. Eventually. I just– it'll be bit by bit because I can't go through it all at once. It's too much."

I frowned sympathetically. "That's alright. You can tell me as little or as much as you want, whenever you want. Meanwhile, if you just want the support, I can give you that too. It's what friends do."

She smiled a little, nodding. "Right."

I studied her expression, unsure what to make of it. "Did you get any sleep? Last night?"

She nodded, looking up. "I did, yeah. Thanks for coming. I know it was late. And I'm sorry for breaking down on you."

I gave her a knowing look, offering a small smile. "You need to stop apologising."

She exhaled. "Sorry."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Never mind that. You want breakfast? I can make whatever you want, providing you have it of course."

She smiled as she took a seat. "That would be nice, yeah. Eggs couldn't hurt."

"Eggs it is then," I said, eating the last bite of my cereal before standing up. "Give me five minutes.”

She nodded and watched me, relaxed for even the smallest of moments, enough to put me at ease too.

[1000plants]

Tell Me A Story

Bucky Barnes x reader (male)

Summary: Drabble based on this prompt: One person has been on the waiting list to check out a library book for months. The other person has the long-overdue book. The two coincidentally meet one day at the library.

Warnings- Some swearing

Word count- almost 2k

Author's Note- I liked this prompt then hated it then liked it again lmao

Masterlist

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“I’m sorry, sir…” The librarian sighs with an apologetic smile as you walk into the library. They had been dealing with your incessance for the past month- or longer, “We still haven't gotten the book back yet.”

The fact that they recognized you upon entry might have been more off putting, but it made your day go by much smoother. Not needing to go through the whole process of checking if the book you wanted was here yet… you'd take that even if it meant being known as that guy.

You had taken maybe all of ten steps into the library, it smelled heavily of parchment, ink, and that vague people smell. And goddamn it was one of your favorite things ever. Though, it was unfortunately paired with one of your  least favorite phrases ever-  it’s not in yet.

“Oh are you shittin’ me?” You grumble under your breath, tugging off your gloves as you walk towards the main desk. Your face was chilled from the brisk late autumn/early winter air. There were flurries starting outside and all you fucking wanted was the stupid Hobbit book.

It was a tradition you didn't even realize you had started with yourself. Right after Halloween, you devoted the following week to rereading the Hobbit. It started after your second year in college, you read the book by recommendation from a professor and just kept rereading it at the same time every year since. By that point, you had seen the movie plus all of the Lord of The Rings movies, but the books had evaded you. 

“Any updates, at least?” You sigh out, leaning your forearms against the high counters of the librarians desk, gloves loosely clutched in your hand. Sure, you could probably buy the book in just about any store… but that would most definitely ruin the experience for you. It was silly to think, but there was something about borrowing it from a library, a book used and loved by countless others before you, and curling up on your couch to read it in just a week that was absolutely heavenly for you.

The librarian shook their head ‘no’, causing you to dejectedly sigh and steal a quick glance around the main room, “The person who has it checked out is very overdue, unfortunately,” they laughed as they pulled up the book information on the computer in front of them.

“Yeah,” you dryly chuckle, trying not to misplace your unhappiness onto the worker who was just doing their damn job, they were probably just as annoyed by the delay as you were, “It was already a week overdue by the time I went to reserve it.”

You pulled your lips into a thin lined smile, slapping the desk lightly as you took a step back to leave.

Maybe you should just go to the bookstore, bite the bullet and just buy the damn thing. Then your new tradition could be digging it out of storage every year along with all your holiday decorations and -- “Oof-!”

“Oh, ‘m bad, sorry,” a deep voice mumbled from behind you. 

You had been so lost in your own thoughts you hadn't been paying attention to anything around you, and you just backed completely into some random guy. Nice going, idiot.

“Sorry, man,” you quickly say back, swiveling around instinctively holding out a hand towards him to make sure he hadn't fallen or something.

But… god, there was no way he would've fallen. No matter how quickly you backed into him. The man was at least 6’ tall, broad shoulders and seemingly built like a brickhouse. It might've just been the hoodie/jacket combo that added to his mass, but something in you said that the clothes were just accentuating how much he actually had.

You didn't even realize you had been staring at the man, he was walking just a few steps towards your left to the book return spot, and you wouldn't have snapped out of your trance unless you caught a glimpse of the book he had.

The Hobbit.

… this mother fu-

“Hey!” The librarian said with a cheery grin, holding out their hand for the book instead of letting him drop it into the return area, “Looks like we do have it after all!”

The man doesn't really have a reaction as he hands them the book, seeming more confused than anything else. He glanced at you and gave you a slight smile - a smirk? Maybe?

“Y-you…” You started to mumble out, eyes locked on your prize as the librarian scans it.

“Been waiting for it long?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck as he also watches his book getting checked in. There was a slightly embarrassed blush across his cheeks, or it could be from the cold perhaps. He swiftly pulled out his wallet to pay the overdue fee, which was probably a decent amount by this point.

“Just over a month,” you huff out, stepping to the side to let him pay as the librarian reads out the amount he owes.

You knew you shouldn't really say anything, you’d finally get the book you'd been looking for and could fulfil this little tradition you had, "Could've returned it sooner,” You mindlessly comment.

Immediate regret sinks in, you press your lips firmly together and stare sheepishly at the countertop. It was the holiday season and you were being pissy about an overdue book.

But the man didn't seem too put off by your comment, he just chuckled and gave a half hearted shrug as he tucked his card back into his wallet. It was a black card, you noticed.

So this fucker had basically infinite money and was still unable to return a damn book on time?

“I should’ve, you're right,” He admitted simply, glancing at you as he leaned against the counter. He was getting comfortable, almost like he was analyzing your moves the same way he’d analyze a book. It forced you to step closer to him to get the book checked out.

“But, in my defense,” He adds, glancing at you with a hint of a smirk on his lips. It was hard to see his face since he had a hat tugged over his head, but you could tell he had a light beard and longer brown hair, “I never have to deal with anyone else impatiently waiting for it.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, but the realization that you finally had your book was lifting your spirits more and more. You couldn't help the softer smile that overcame you as you worked to get out your library card, the familiar worn out cover of the book filled you with a simple kind of warmth.

“Its… its just this stupid tradition I have,” you explain, holding your card under the reader while the librarian stamps the inner book cover, “I read it the same time every year.”

He nodded, almost reverently as if the book was just as important to him. Which, it might be, you don't know. You notice his lingering gaze on the book, “Good tradition.” He simply comments.

You also nodded, feeling a little less embarrassed by your attachment to the book. You were both quiet as you took the book from the librarian, you held it tightly. The worn cover felt familiar against your fingers and palm, still slightly warm since it had been hot potatoed between people. 

“You… you like the book, at least?" You finally mustered up the courage to actually speak directly to him. You hold up the book, taking a few steps away from the counter if someone else needs the checkout desk. The sudden feeling of sheepishness that had settled in your body was something you hadn't expected. Your heart beat a little faster, a little harder, and you were grateful for the book to hold onto so that your hands didn't fidget.

The man followed you, a bigger grin across his lips as he nodded enthusiastically, “Oh, yeah! It’s a great book. I- I’ve read it a bunch of times,” He admits, locking eyes with you.

He shifted on his feet a few times, maybe jitters that matched your own, or the chill from the outside as he tried to get his blood pumping again.

“I’m… I’m sorry for, uh, keepin’ it checked out for so long,” He mutters again, turning his head to look away from you.

You softly smiled, lightly tapping the book against his arm, not noticing the distinct sound of metal, “I know I sounded a little pissed, but it’s not really a big deal. I’m, uhm, sorry I overreacted.” You were still feeling bad. This man had been nothing but kind and you clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

“You had the right to be pissed,” He snorted. There was a beat of silence between the two of you. You crossed your arms lightly over your chest, and he mirrored it a moment later.

“Uhm, what's- uh, what's that tradition you were talking about?” the man stuttered out. You would call it flustered, but you wern't about to get ahead of yourself.

“Uh, right,” You say, your voice was a little more airy than usual, “It’s, it’s nothing crazy,” You look down at the book in your hand, then back to him, “In college a teacher had me read it, and I just liked it so much I kept reading it in mid November, gets me in the holiday mood for some reason.”

The word November made the man suck in air through his teeth, he shoots you a sheepish smile, “I hope early December is good enough?” He teases.

“December is definitely fine, don't worry…” You trail off, looking at him expectantly for his name. This mystery man who had been harboring your book wasn't goin to stay a mystery to you for much longer.

“James- ah- Bucky. Everyone calls me Bucky,” He quickly offers, his smile growing a bit more. The way his eyes widened with excitement reminded you of a dog. He prompts you for your name nd when you tell him he repeats it back softly. Like he was testing how it sounded.

“...I like that name,” Bucky whispers.

Normally, the unrestrained smile on you face, the heat in your cheeks, and the butterflies in your stomach would make you recoil. But feeling them for Bucky felt more right than wrong. Hell, it didn't feel wrong at all.

And maybe that's why you felt bold. Maybe it was the relief of getting your book that prompted your next move… maybe it was the holiday spirit.

“It’d look a lot better in your phone,” You confidently say, for once your shaky voice didn't betray you. You hold out your hand, nodding slightly for him to give you his phone.

Bucky quickly pulled out his phone, not once taking his eyes off of you, like you'd disappear if he did. You had to bite back the laugh at how may times he nearly dropped his phone as he fishes it out for you.

Once you get it, you punch in your number and name. You hand it back to him, catching a glimpse at the time, which tells you you need to get going. You clumsily gave your excuse, waving to him briefly as you turned to make your way out of the library. With your back to him, you didn't need to hide the goofy smile that had been making your face ache the entire time. 

It wasn't until you were about a block away, huddled in your coat with your hands buried in your pockets to hide from the chill, you then felt your phone vibrate. Checking the message from the nameless number made your heart soar.

Youre right, it does look good. But the phrase “Want to grab coffee sometime?” might be better. -Bucky

[amagicalmoonlight]

@fandomhop :3

The silly spinners!

made this silly primary color trio animation and asked for suggestions on what other trios to do this with, these are free to use within the community! :3

@d8tl55c @uri-yaoie @crimsalwaysawake

[macsimagines]

I love your scenarios and hcs, I'm especially obsessed with the ones where the yanderes experience intense regret for (parts of) what they've done, like the cheating hcs for Kisaki and Ran or that excellent one of Mikey with an insecure darling who tries to leave him. Ough, the anguish, the regret, it's everything. So can I ask for maybe some headcanons for yandere Rindou, Inui, and Mitsuya who have achieved their dreams of being with their darlings but it's not all they made it out to be - one way or another, they've broken their darlings, and now they find that they don't like it at all. Thank you so much!

I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, PHYSICAL ABUSE, MURDER, SUICIDE, KIDNAPPING, AND POSESSIVE BEHAVIOR

Rindou Haitani

He regretted it the moment he brought you back to his place. Thankfully his brother and him shared the pent house suite of a large luxury building and had plenty of room and privacy. Still, watching you throw things at him and cry about how much you hate him is basically torture.

At first when you quieted down and stopped with all the dramatics he was relieved. Maybe you were starting to get used to your environment?

No you were plotting an escape attempt and lulling him into a false sense of security. And you try again. And again. And Again. And fucking again. Until finally he took his brother's advice...

"I don't want to do this," He whispered in your ear as his grip on your limbs tightened, "It's just... I have to keep you from leaving..."

SNAP! Goes your legs. Don't worry he'll feed you and help you do everything you need to do. He'll even help with physical therapy! When he decides he can trust you enough to not run.

You're quieter now. Sure, you flinch any time his hands get near you and you're suddenly a shaking mess whenever he walks in the room. It's just nerves though. You'll get better, right?

Ran has to come over to help keep him together. It's honestly a disturbing sight to behold. Watching Rindou brush his S/O's frail hair, helping her get dressed and feed her. It's like he's playing with a doll...

"It's ok, baby. You're just... sick. That's all. You're just sick and I'm going to make you better again."

Inui Seishu

You're a childhood friend he's adored ever since you moved in next door. After the fire though, you stayed in touch. Or at least you tried. You called, you wrote letters you even tried going through Koko, but he just kept you at distance.

Years passed, he fell in with a bad crowd and you tried to move on. But you never really forgot your friend... Which is why when you ran into him, gang uniform and all you just smiled and tried to talk to him like he was the same kid you grew up with.

And Inui feels everything he felt for you and tried to push down rushing back up. You're so warm and kind. He wants that for himself. No he needs it.

Which is why when he's dragging you back to his place and locking you chain and all to his bed he's sure you'll understand. Inui has needed you so badly, and he's been so alone and suffering. You'll make it better though right?

But it was like the very air around you was poison. He's watching you slowly start to fade and wither. Your complexion is terrible, you won't take a brush to your hair, getting you to fucking eat is a fight.

It slowly starts to drive him insane. What happened to the woman that danced all night with him? Where is his love that would laugh and smile at him? When was the last time he actually heard your voice?

Inui is convinced you're some kind of imposter. You couldn't possibly be the same girl he loved all these years.

With rough hands wrapping around a delicate neck and squeezing so tightly he whispers; "I don't need a fucking fake to love."

Mitsuya Takashi

OOF. Taking you was a challenge. It was only because you refused to marry him... "I've got my whole life ahead of me. You're just starting out on your career. Now just isn't a good time." But Mitsuya wasn't going to wait a second longer to be with you forever.

He knew you'd fight him, but you're not strong as he is. And honestly, your escape attempts are pretty much thwarted every time. He's smarter than you.

Its... Impossible to get away from him... And eventually you loose all hope. But it's ok. You'll hang in there. When he finds you, limp and dangling from the ceiling fan he doesn't believe that you're gone.

When you left you took whatever sanity he had left. Because he keeps you. Your corpse. He's crafty and resourceful so stuffing and embalming you is easy work. And he makes sure his favorite doll is only dressed in his finest works.

"How about this, darling? I think the pastels go lovely with your new complexion. Don't worry about your stitching either. I'll make sure you don't break apart again."

[lunamoonbby]

Cult!141 x Fem!Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT MDNI

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Dark Content, Manipulation, allusions to past abuse very brief not in depth, female reader, swearing, murder, pregnancy, birth, poly relationships, smut, Cult AU, the use of lord in terms to worship, Price being referred to as Father, Slow Burn

If you or a loved one is experiencing abuse, know that there is help, and please help anyone that you know to help them escape from that abuse.

⭐️Author's Note: The religion that the villagers follow is not defined, but it is NOT associated with Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or any other type of religion there is⭐️

AN: I know I had said that I would post this chapter for thanksgiving, but I got so busy I didn't get the time and when I did, I was in "I don't want to do anything mood" I am sorry for the delay

Chapter 9: A Breakfast at the Tavern

Y/n walked away from the church in search of either Johnny, Kyle, or Simon. "Oof." Y/n bumped into someone. "Oi watch-. Lovie, I didn't see you there are you okay?" Simon asked concern laced in his voice. "Oh, hi Simon yes I'm fine. I'm glad I found you; I'm getting really hungry, and I was wondering if you know any places that are open?" Y/n looking at Simon. "Johnny said that he's opening his tavern just for the five of us so we can eat." Simon said looking at y/n moving a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, ok well let me go freshen up and I'll meet you and the others at the Tavern Restaurant." Y/n said blushing at what Simon did. "See you soon lovie." Simon watching y/n leave.

Simon entered the Tavern Restaurant. "Simon good to see you I assume that you also took care of business." Price taking a sip of his drink. "Yes, William will get what’s coming to him on Tuesday, also y/n said she'll be here just has to freshen up first." Simon looking at the door waiting for y/n. "I was feeling red when Liam threw at rock at my lovie." Simon admitted to John. "We could tell, you crushed a rock with your bare hands, hence why you’re the God of Death in this town. You come up with the most gruesome ways to kill a man, Simon. I myself wanted to start a war for my lovie right after the mass." John stated. "Hence why you're the God of War." Johnny looked at John, "I'm going to be closed for this week they'll starve, I don't care." "I wanted to jab them all with a dirty rusty needle and serve them a nonlethal dose of poison, but just enough to make them sick." Kyle and Johnny looking at John. "Johnny that's why you're the God of Famine, and Kyle is the God of Pestilence." John said looking at both Johnny and Kyle. "Something interesting I learned about Little Birdy, she wants to be a mother, she placed another set of flowers in the bowl, and I told her that the offerings she put today is for fertility, I explained that the first flower offering was for love and that this offering is for Fertility she didn't seem to mind. So, she's definitely our Goddess of Fertility, Nature, and Purity." John said in a calm tone. "I should have guessed that, when she picked the flowers, she asked if she could pick them, and a gentle breeze happened right after she asked, and she somehow knew that the gentle breeze was a yes." Simon looking at the 3 men said.

The bell to the Tavern Restaurant jingled. "Hello everyone." Y/n came in smiling. "Hello sweetheart, just in time I made you a new tea it's made with hibiscus and passion fruit. I hope you like it." Kyle gives y/n the teacup. "Thank you, Kyle, is smells amazing." Y/n taking a sip of her tea, "oh this really good. I love it." Y/n in pure bliss. "Lovie I'm glad you're here." Simon looking at y/n. "Simon I'm glad you told me that Johnny opened his tavern just for us." Y/n hugged Simon. "Ah I can't let my bonnie lass go hungry." Johnny said. "Ah little birdy, I mean y/n good for you to join us." John looked over at y/n. "Father Price and you can call me little birdy I think it's cute." Y/n giving John a closed eyed smile. "Food is ready." Johnny coming out with a hot dish of food, pancakes, hashbrowns, scrambled eggs, and turkey sausage. John served your plate first before anyone else gets their serving first. "Thank you, Father Price, also Johnny these smells delicious I can't wait to dig in." Y/n looking down at her food. After everyone got their food, they all started eating and complement Johnny on his cooking. "I have a question; Simon how did you know which room I was staying at?" Y/n looking at Simon. "Father Price told me. He wanted me to tell you about today's mass, so you won’t get thrown off when you enter the church and see that it's full." Simon looking back at y/n. "Oh okay thank you for telling me. I'm pretty sure Johnny and Kyle knows where my room is at, they own the Tavern Inn." Y/ n looking at Johnny and Kyle. "Right you are bonnie lass." Johnny smiling at y/n.

"Um Johnny, Kyle, would you allow me to use your kitchen tomorrow morning to make breakfast for all of us? Father Price said that all the shops are closed and will reopen Tuesday. So can I use your Kitchen tomorrow morning?" Y/n fidgeting her hands looking at Johnny and Kyle. "Of course you can sweetheart. Same time as today, we can even make that a tradition too." Kyle exclaimed gleefully. "Oh yes every Friday is Brisket Pot Pie, and every Sunday can be the Breakfast Day." Y/n looking at everyone. Since everyone is closed y/n was having trouble thinking about what she should do when she had an idea, "Father Price is it okay if I forage some berries for tomorrow's breakfast? I promise to stay within the village." Y/n looking at John with a pouty face. John who can’t resist, "Yes little birdy you can go forage for berries, but Simon has to go with you." John said looking at y/n and Simon. "Oh, yay thank you thank you thank you Father Price." y/n hugged John. "Here is a basket for your berries." "And a book on what berries you can pick." Johnny handing her a basket and Kyle giving her the book. "Oh, thank you for the book but I don't think I'll need it, my mother and grandmother taught me everything I know about nature and plants, but I'll still keep the book." Y/n said hugging Johnny and Kyle. "Come on Si-Si we have to go before it gets dark. Bye everyone I'll see you tomorrow morning for breakfast." Y/n dragging Simon with her.

Taglist is open comment if you would like to be added

@yourloverslost @tabbslouuformer @angelrissa @freefallingup13 @readingcatinacorner @sylvanasthebansheequeen @casualunknownrunaway @thatpersonnamedrook @rip-cod-brainrot @hoodiepandaninja16 @spacecrawllerr @kopi-nes @darkangel4121

[blitzofreeandwild]

"Stolas," he breathed, surprised at how relieved the word sounded coming out of him, nearly turning into a sob. 

"Blitzø...?" Stolas whispered, taking one slow, hesitant step forward, bending down to get a closer look.

Blitzø glanced down at himself, letting out a bitter laugh. The only light came from one dim, flickering streetlight that hardly did its job, making Stolas recognizable mostly by shape than anything else. It was still enough for Blitzø to know that his own shape was very different from its usual form, squishy human fingers replacing claws, floppy human hair replacing horns, flat human face replacing his long snout and razor-sharp teeth. 

"Yeah, sorry Feathers, I uh, guess I don't really look like myself, huh?"

Blitzø pushed himself to his feet, trying in vain to brush off some of the blood that covered his clothes. The black leather jacket might at least be salvageable, but the jeans and red t-shirt were probably toast. When he looked up again, Stolas had his head tilted to one side, carefully considering. 

"Actually," he said slowly, "You'd be surprised how much you do look like yourself." 

—Human Nature on AO3

I can't believe I'm finally done! This took way too freaking long and delayed the next chapter way more than I would have preferred, oof. (Worth it, though.) Part of why it took as long as it did was because I was using this project as a way to try and teach myself how to sketch using the path tool, because my stylus broke. So everything in this image was made by pointing and clicking with a mouse trackpad.

Another reason why this took so long was how many extra images I had to make just to have them barely show up in this one, so please enjoy the invisible fruits of my labor. (I don't know why someone decided to hang the devil card as a poster. In theory, I was going to turn it into a band poster, but I was, frankly, tired of the side quest images.)

[bexmuses]

Flynn digested this bit of news with a smirk on his face and an absolutely racing heart. There was no such thing as monsters. ... Right?

"Nice ghost story, kid. This is the part where you tell me you're just joking, right?"

Then again, he didn't seem to be joking. In fact, in this moment, his entire manner seemed years beyond his age. There was definitely something up with this kid, that was for sure. But Flynn wasn't about to let any of that get to him. This was going to be a brief encounter, then voila! They'd part ways as unlikely friends.

"Heading? Out of Hyrule. My business here is concluded, and I'm on my way gone. Wait, are you serious about monsters? How exactly are you defining 'monsters,' anyway? Humans can be monsters, too, you know."

There's another snort at the 'child recruits' thing. "Meanwhile i've primarily been places that won't even let you leave the safety of town. "Yeah, it took 3 days for me to get this reforged, and i had to win the golddust from a Goron race. Got decent amount of bruises tumbling down that mountain." it's said with a smile though. it'd been a good reprieve from the moon falling down.

but for more pressing matters, Link just... pushes a finger into the softer soil. "Soft grass may be comfortable for a midday nap, but the loose dirt is also easy for the clawed bones beneath to dig out of in the dark. That's what Castle Town's moat and drawbridge is for. it keeps the monsters out. If you are caught in the fields after dark, at least the hard paths make it harder for the stalchildren to crawl out where they sense life to strike." He wasn't surprised at the premise of not knowing about the stalchildren. after all, in Termina, there was no stalchildren in the fields at night, just the chuchus and bubbles. "SO again, based on the lack of weaponry I'm seeing, you don't seem equipped for a night out here. Feel free to show me wrong- i do know smaller weapons exist, though they're ill-advised out here." There is some genuine concern for Flynn's safety in all that, it just doesn't show the best with the kind of critical speech he just went on. "Which direction are you heading? Depending on that, Kakariko is a welcoming enough place if it's along the way. The steps to town seem to deter the stumbling of monsters, so it's pretty secure even without the drawbridge itself."

[the-impala-is-my-home]

Promtps 10-12 for Wilmon Day, please!

Hii, so sorry for the delay on this, but thank you for your prompt! Hope you like it!! :) originally written for @youngroyals-events' "Wilmon day" The prompts were:

Who falls asleep first? Who wakes up first? Who watches the other sleep?

-------

It's one of these evenings that has Simon stay up for longer than usual- he's been feeling sleepy for at least an hour and every now and then he catches himself looking up from his screen to send longing glances towards the bedroom door. After a glance at the time he sighs- it's late enough that even Wille has asked him whether he'd mind if Wille were to head to bed already and he has to write at least another 1000 words before he can hand this in. When he goes to take a sip from his tea, he finds it has already gone cold. He resigns himself to another two hours of work, trying to ignore the impulse to just crawl into bed with Wille already.

Later, his teeth freshly brushed and his eyes squinting against the bedside light, he smiles at Wille's sleeping figure, curled around an empty space reserved for Simon. He climbs onto the bed as carefully as he can to not disturb him and smiles when Wille reaches for him half-asleep anyway. Simon breathes in Wille's scent and finally feels his body relax into the warmth surrounding him.

---

The last memories of his dream slip away silently, leaving only vague feelings behind. Simon scrunches his nose, trying to orientate himself in the momentary confusion of waking up. Before he can convince himself to open his eyes and at least check the time on his phone before hopefully getting to fall back asleep, he feels them- hesitant, careful touches, the pads of warm fingertips ghosting against his skin, following the slope of his back, the edge of his jaw, the rise of his cheekbones. The corners of his mouth twitch and he feels Wille's hand still in response.

"I woke you up." Wille is talking quietly, his voice still a little rough from sleep. "Sorry."

"Hmmm," Simon says in response, trying his best to sound as disgruntled as he can but hiding a smile by burrying his face in his arm. "Were you watching me sleep again?" He finally opens his eyes a little, blinking at the way the sunlight caresses the outlines of Wille's shoulders from behind - not the middle of the night, then.

"No." Wille grins. "Maybe a little."

"Total stalker vibes, I'm telling you."

He ignores Wille's pout and grabs his phone from the bedside table. 07:13. Still early enough to go back to sleep for a bit. Wille hasn't left for a morning run yet, either, so perhaps he can convince him to stay in bed for a while longer, to let their limbs tangle until they almost become one, until they’re ready to face the day together.

“Well I guess you can watch me sleep some more, because there’s no way I’m getting up already.” He scoots back over to Wille, laying himself across his chest with closed eyes and trapping him with his weight, resulting in a quiet “oof” from Wille. Across his back, Wille’s hands resume their exploration, raising goosebumps in their wake. Simon hums contentedly, leaning into the touch. He opens his eyes again, props his head up on his arm, laid flat over Wille’s chest.

“Or,” he says, as Wille’s fingers reach his lower back, “I’m sure we could find some other way to keep ourselves busy until it’s an acceptable time to get up.”

[thedreamerwithaheavyheart]

How will this end? Pick A Card

All readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes ONLY.

Pile 1-Rabbit

Pile 2-Moose

Pile 3- Tapir

Pile 1- (Ace of Pentacles Reversed, 7 of Cups, The Tower)

You may feel like there is a scarcity/obsticle in an aspect of your life, DONT GIVE UP! It’s not over! BUT take time to reflect on what you may really want, because the WORLD IS LITERALLY AT YOUR FINGER TIPS. This is really a defining moment or you may perceive this as one big HUGE setback. That’s not the case AT ALL. Just pivot. I’m not going to lie and say it’s easy Pile 1. I’m sorry you are going through this and it may not be fair and just. But this is a new opportunity. It is NEVER TOO LATE to pick yourself back up. You are never, and will never be too far gone. RISE!!

Bonus:

Key words - truth, mirrors, sound advice

Sometimes our greatest mirrors and teachers are from our adversaries. What will you take from this? How will you adjust so that this doesn’t happen again? Do not blame yourself, but notice the patterns & reflect.

Pile 2- (10 of Swords reversed, 4 of Cups reversed, Temperance Reversed)

Welp! You’ve made it through the worst of it! Don’t worry, you’re learning and pulling yourself together but don’t resist or delay this change in your life. It’s okay! You made it through! Now start fresh! (Kinda similar to Pile 1) THIS IS THE TIME!! Seize opportunities, be enthusiastic and positive. This is the PERFECT TIME to get inspired and go outside of your comfort zone a bit. (Within reason!!) Please prioritize self evaluation and your goals. Do everything within moderation.

Bonus:

Key words - don’t give too much of your power away, synchronicity, magick, something special

You might have something that others want. It may be a character trait, physical feature or an actual object. Reflect on why they may want your power? Move accordingly and realize whatever the situation is that seems scary for you…. Will end up being not that serious in the long run. It may turn out to be something that’s too emphasized. Breath. They don’t have the power- you do. Be strategic! Or it could be the opposite! You may have something worthwhile (an idea, talent, personality trait etc.) & your light is under attack. Don’t listen! (Within reason) if this is the case, they’re trying to be successful for themselves with what you have. It’s a trap!. Take a deep breath and protect yourself without tipping anyone oof. Observe actions quietly.

Pile 3- ( The Chariot Reversed, 8 of Cups, Ace of Swords)

There be a lack of motivations or some stagnation. Just re evaluate what’s important to you. What do YOU want out of this? Does this align with you? You may feel like your hands are tied or that you have no choice but to go along with this, but I am here to tell you… Let it go. It’s not as deep as you think it is, or what others think it is. YOU CAN ALWAYS CHANGE YOUR MIND. YOU ARE NOT STUCK! Your judgements may be a bit cloudy at this time. Take some time, and talk it out with involving parties. There may be a misunderstanding/ miscommunication along the way. BE CAREFUL WITH YOUR WORDS, but please be clear and concise with your concerns.

Bonus:

Key words - acting in service to others, charity, selflessness

Make sure those around feel your love and appreciation. I’m hearing someone may need to hear that from you. Additionally, you may want to just look into how you could be of help to those around you. just in general. Do your best to show up for those you love.

Thank you all for reading! This reading is for me too. I’ll create a masterlist and price sheet for private personal readings soon!