#understanding the condition helps you understand the person much better
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turbolezgooo · 2 days ago
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Why ya'll hate on Cait and call her a dictator?
Well-written characters often have a story deeper than what you explicitly see them do or hear them say. Just because everything is set in a fantasy world, doesn't mean that characters are not affected by tragic events and the human condition.
First of all, Cait wasn't the one who made a police state. Ambessa and the council did that. Ambessa orchestrated the whole thing. Cait went along with it because she was turned around by grief. That shit messes with your judgment, but she was still trying to do what she and Vi agreed on. To focus on the real problem and prevent hurting innocent people.
Cait tried to control an unraveling situation AND literal warlord WHILE being inexperienced in how to deal with it, having a big ol' lesbian break up, AND dying inside.
You could see that when Cait argued to Ambessa that there are innocent people and there MUST be justifiable cause to arrest anyone. In Cait and Ambessa's interactions it's implied that Cait was getting in the way of Ambessa's agenda off-screen. She tried to keep something worse from happening because she does acknowledge the historical and current oppression of Zaunites.
This mirrors the way she offered Vi the badge to give her a voice in what happens to her sister if the enforcers caught her. The enforcers coming after Jinx was going to happen regardless of Cait. She took control by volunteering and taking precautions. See- While they did use gas, Vi would never agree to something that would permanently hurt the people of Zaun. The tactic gave them fewer chances of having to physically fight Zaunites who were just trying to defend themselves. Believe it or not, it was a controlled operation until grief got the better of Cait and things looked worse than it actually was.
The way that Cait deeply believes in equality in spite of a personal vendetta is why Ambessa sent Maddie to try and control her by 'filling' her hole (no pun intended). When Maddie attempted to have Cait stop the police state situation and withdraw, she did focus on Jinx at first but the second part of not wanting to make things worse was something she had a lot more to say about before Maddie interrupted. And Cait was right. What would have happened if she hadn't taken the role and played along? A puppet councillor or Ambessa herself would have been the figure head and do so much worse. Those people don't have the same perspective and understanding as Cait.
When Cait and Vi argue about listening to a war pig oink poison in her ear, she yells "I know!" as she throws a piece of war ship used in strategizing. You can tell her role was a strategic choice to have some control over the events that unfolded. That's why Vi didn't villinize her. Vi understood that Cait never really accepted anything Ambessa said. That's why she helped Vi at the commune. Cait was a double agent taking shit from all sides to stop worse things from happening.
She had grief and really crap options, but she always chose the lesser of the evils to try and stay true to who she really was. She even resigns in her argument with Vi, that she didn't put Jinx, her own mother's killer, in jail or punish her in any way. It's another example of her faltering in decision-making when overwhelming or unexpected things happen and it also tells us what she is. She's human. She doesn't make excuses for taking on an objectively bad role and making mistakes. When she said "We can't erase our mistakes.", she's also talking about herself. She takes responsibility and tries to do good. In the end, all she wanted was closure for her grief by having Jinx accept responsibility NOT by killing or abusing her or innocent Zaunites for that matter.
Imo there's a lot in Arcane that shows Cait as a flawed but inherently good person, and Vi absolutely knows it. They see each other warts and all. If you think CaitVi's lex scene was poorly written read this: https://www.tumblr.com/turbolezgooo/768190482340773888/bro-this-outrage-about-caitvi-relationship-in-s2?source=share
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nebulaafterdark · 1 month ago
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Dragonseeds (Pt. 1)
Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Cole)!Reader
Summary: If any man can claim a dragon, what good is the blood of Old Valyria?
18+ ONLY MDNI
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Y/N Velaryon has loved Aegon since she was small; fascinated by the Prince, three years her senior. Like a shadow, from corridor to corridor, and one day, like a switch, they flip.
Aegon begins seeking her out, searching the castle high and low for his betrothed. Training fiercely by the sword, with the understanding that only a knight could properly defend her. A sworn sword will only go so far, they could not love her the way he does.
“I love you too much, you have ruined me.”
He often tells her, to which the princess smiles.
“As dearly as I love you.”
When they are forced to wed immediately after the incident at Driftmark, neither the prince nor princess are eager to produce heirs.
They fight often, loud, passionate disagreements. He raises his hand to her once, in a fit of rage. Using every bit of self restraint to cup her cheek instead, a bit too forcefully. With blunt nails digging into her delicate skin as she watches him with wide eyes. “I meant to strike you.” That is what one does when the person they love refuses to listen, is it not?
“You did not.”
“I wanted to,” he admits. “I could not.”
The princess offers a sad smile, turning her face into his palm. “That is what matters.”
They do not lie together for some four years, until the growing protests become too loud to ignore.
“The smallfolk believe that a strong line of succession is the work of a strong marriage. My claim is already in question, we will need a strong line.” Y/N whispers against his lips.
Aegon loves his wife, but detests the notion that she is to be bred like cattle to uphold their duty to the crown. He hates being a prince, he hates being a Targaryen.
That is why he so loves Y/N’s hair, each dark, rebellious wave. How it screams ‘I do not belong to you.’
He hacks off his silver tresses at the first sob of his wife on the birthing bed. Never allowing it to grow past his chin again.
The future Queen and King consort are blessed with twin daughters, followed by three sweet sons, the youngest two inherit their mother’s dark locks. Pleasing Aegon to no end.
“I want a daughter who favors you.” Aegon admits.
“Then we must try again.” Y/N grins.
Aegon fists a hand in her dark locks as they make love, as though it will grant his wish.
They are expecting a sixth child before King Viserys’ death. Before Aegon takes the throne to guard it. Before Y/N crowns him, in the dragon pit, at Ser Criston’s order.
“Listen to me now, these next days are critical. Decide now whether you wish to live or die, if you want your children to live.”
“My children are in danger?” Y/N whispers.
“Your children have been in danger.” Ser Criston sneers.
“Why are you helping me?”
“You know why.” Cole grits out. Blood of my blood.
“Surely it would be easier for you if I were gone.”
“I do not wish you dead.” The man tells her. “Crown Aegon, the people must see you to do it. Surrender it peacefully and they will fall in line.”
“And my mother?”
Cole squares his shoulders, “we save who we can save.”
————————————————————————
Only two days later tragedy strikes, pressing on the delicate ties that hold the greens together. Severing them with the news of Vhagar’s betrayal.
“I did not mean to kill Lucerys.” Aemond admits, in the presence of his mother, grandsire and brother alone.
“What did you mean to do?” Aegon slams his fist against the table.
“Have a bit of fun.”
“Fun?” Aegon scoffs, “is it entertaining to you that I must now break this news to my wife in her condition?”
“Aegon,” Alicent sighs, “mayhaps you might wait until-”
“I will not lie to her, mother.” Aegon says, “better she hear it from me.”
“The grand maester should ready a draft, something to calm her.” Otto suggests.
“No.” Aegon shakes his head.
“Think of the babe.”
“I do think of the babe!” Aegon shouts, “I think of the babe and I think of my wife. My poor, sweet, wife who is never considered by another soul, save for me.”
Alicent swallows hard.
“This world can be cruel.” Otto admits, “you must keep your wits about you, your grace.”
Aegon scoffs, storming out of the room to find his wife, standing but a foot from the doorway. “How much did you hear?”
“Very little, I was headed to look in on the children. I heard you shouting.” She admits, “it stopped me.”
“Come, my heart.” Aegon murmurs, wrapping her in his arms. “There is something I must tell you.”
Y/N nods, against his chest. It must be something awful, she can feel it in her bones.
“I need you to do your best to keep calm. Our child needs you calm, yes?”
Again she nods.
“There’s been a terrible accident,” he begins swaying her. “Lucerys and Aemond had a run in at Storm’s End.”
“No,” she clutches him a bit tighter.
“Vhagar…is accustomed to war. I do not-“ he breaks off. “Aemond insists it was an accident.”
“My brother is dead?”
“I am so terribly sorry.” Aegon murmurs, pressing his cheek to hers, in a desperate attempt to absorb even an ounce of her pain. “I am so sorry.”
“I cannot breathe.” The thought of sweet Lucerys dying frightened and alone is inconceivable.
“You must.”
“I should have been there, to fly for my mother’s claim.”
“You are with child.” He reminds her.
“I am always with child, it makes little difference.” She heaves in a bitter breath.
“You could not have changed it.”
“I might have tried!” She pulls herself away from him. “I need a moment alone.”
“My heart, you should not be alone.”
“Please,” she insists.
Aegon spends the evening drowning himself in cups, choking down the urge to murder his brother.
————————————————————————
Y/N and Aegon make the decision to leave with their children under the cover of nightfall.
Ser Criston catches them of course, he always seems to. Only this time he makes no move to stop them.
“I swore an oath to protect you.” Cole insists. “For too long I have stood idle, allowing Rhaenyra to guide you. To mold you into the heir she so desperately needed.” He looks to Y/N, “I offered her a quiet life on the hillside, selling oranges.”
Y/N blinks at him.
“She wanted no part in that,” Cole smiles. “I suppose Ser Harwin Break Bones was more agreeable.”
Y/N stares back at him with familiar eyes…his eyes. “Are you not ashamed of me?”
“I did not turn away from you because I was ashamed. I have never been ashamed of you. I wished only to make it easier on you, so that you would not bear the shame.” Cole tells her. “Now you decide for yourself…the life you want. Return to your mother on Dragonstone, or fly away across the narrow sea.”
Part 2
Aegon taglist: @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @niyahnotnia
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katiekatdragon27 · 9 days ago
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Guys you don't understand how much I love these two. (Oh yeah, and Finn's there too)
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Glisten: Awww~ Shrimpo, you remembered Shrimpo: B*tch I'm in LOVE with you, of course I REMEMBERED! Glisten: What!? Wait really?? This is very sudden wow! (You said you were straight?) Shrimpo: AAAAAAAAAA
Finn: (yapping) Shrimpo and Glisten: SHUT THE F*CK UP, FINN!! Shrimpo and Glisten: ... Shrimpo and Glisten: (kissing)
The first comic takes place before the two started dating. Shrimpo is really really really bad at expressing emotions other than anger and frustration, so anytime he tries to express anything, he just blurts out his feelings without thinking. Then he gets second-hand embarrassment lol. Glisten was pretty aware that Shrimpo liked him before, but he's pretending to be surprised to make Shrimpo "feel better" (also to mildly embarrass him lol).
Also, I think that Shrimpo and Glisten bonding over hating Finn is very based and true. They need that autistic man to SHUT UP/silly
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I think Shrimpo and Finn are very cousin coded. Not close enough to be siblings but definitely got some familial genes going on imo (plz don't shoot me Shrimpbowl shippers🙏🙏🙏) Doesn't stop Shrimpo from being violent towards Finn tho, and Finn does nothing to deter it lol (he finds it funny). Also, Glisten throws no punches bc he doesn't want to get his hands dirty.
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Finn: Sooooo?? How was the daaaate~ Finn: No need to be such a clam about it! Shrimpo: I'M SO KILLING YOU!
The second image takes place the day after this post lol. Shrimpo is recovering from a hangover covered in lipstick kisses and super conflicting emotions and Finn is NOT helping.
On the other end, I've been thinking about Shimmer a lot lol. So here is a doodle of her with her "sister aunt" Toodles, and Pebbles.
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They all get along super well. In this pic, Toodles is like 12ish and Shimmer is 4 (but her weird biology made her age up to like 7 here). Pebble is pebble, that's all you need to know.
Also, I was in a horror-ish mood earlier so here are some Twisteds <33 (below cut cuz kinda scary):
I love you angst comfort. My sib pointed out while playing one day that Shrimpo looked traumatized as a Twisted, which like, fair, but it make me think.
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Glisten: "They say you are not here anymore. But I think you are."
I had this silly idea that Twisted Shrimpo was infected by Dandy personally, and that whole conflict got Shrimpo's lower jaw ripped off. He is very violent and volatile, and very hard to calm down. But, when he runs into a twisting Glisten alone and scared, he comforts him (to the best of his ability).
Since Glisten is still able to be somewhat conscious, he realizes that the Twisteds are actually not completely gone like he originally thought, and it helps him keep his sanity longer, hoping for a way out for everyone.
Willpower is a crazy thing.
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On the complete opposite note, I love you horrifying freak of ichor child.
Since Shimmer was made from the ichor itself with no sort of skeleton or solid foundation, her condition is very unstable. And the problem is that her body is affected by her emotions. On a bad day, she can suffer from lots of pain and her body literally melting away. That's when she hides out and waits for her body to stabilize again.
When she completely twists, her body completely falls apart, becoming a puddle of ichor on the ground. If she was an encounterable twisted, she would work like Sprout's puddle root things, but easier to maneuver around and avoid. Also, her antenna glow.
Mini yap session aside, I think I cooked on the art lol.
Anyways, the og images lol:
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Have a good one pookies!
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vampiresbloodx · 2 months ago
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I'm gonna hurt you (Good pet. Part 2.)
pairings: Agatha harkness x Reader (Agatha x reader x Rio eventually)
word count: 1.4k
warnings: smut, public sex, face riding, top!Agatha, bottom!reader, voyeurism, oral sex (r giving), kissing, lip biting, blood mentioned, mistress kink, that gay sexual tension where they all just want to fuck each other.
Read part one here.
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You were bored out of your mind. 
The other witches sat around a fire, telling stories, jokes, you weren’t really paying attention that much, too focused on your mistress, you missed her, she had gone off somewhere and hadn't returned. 
You were starting to grow impatient, but you waited, because you know that’s what Agatha likes. Your eyes looked up, you met Rio’s gaze as you quickly avoided eye contact with her, a weird feeling in your stomach whenever she stares at you. 
You didn’t understand it. Nor did you understand her. 
There was more tension now between her and your mistress, you hated it, as they made it obvious, always bickering, you remembered the first day she appeared, it was after Agatha broke out of the spell and she found you, when she was agnes, the two of you had a relationship that was different to the one you currently shared with her, in this role, she was your girlfriend. 
And you liked it. 
She was a detective, working late, barely home while you looked after Senor scratchy, her rabbit, keeping the house clean, making dinner and breakfast for her, you were like a housewife, you liked it, a lot. 
It was kind of fitting for you to be that person, as you were always her pet, her loyal familiar. Familiars are meant to be loyal, no one else comes first than their Master or Mistress. It's a rule. You knew Agatha had others before she met you, you weren’t a centuries old witch like her, but you were still learning the ways of the craft, she took you under her wing, made you hers. 
The first time she kissed you was the night you made your vows to her, it was different from marriage vows, but some might say it was similar. There were no weddings, suits or bride gowns, rings, but it felt like that to you. And secretly she felt the same. 
It’s a special night for the familiar and their Mistress, to keep the connection strong and flowing, alive, you swore your life to her.
As so did she. 
You had thought for the longest time you were always going to be her first choice. Not a last minute decision, a second choice. 
You knew you shouldn’t think too hard about this, but you do anyway. You always do, and that doesn’t help anyone. 
Maybe you were better off alone, maybe Rio was better for her than you could ever be. 
No. 
You couldn’t let your mind go there. 
It was hard not to. 
-
When everyone else decided to get some rest, you also tried to have a nap, despite being in these conditions and the ground wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was something. You just missed her, you missed Agatha. 
You felt a hand touch your shoulder, startling you just a little as you looked up hoping to see your mistress, only to meet the eyes of Rio, who smirked down at you. 
“Come” she said, confused, you got up and followed the witch. 
You didn’t know why you followed her in the first place, the only person you truly followed was Agatha, but something told you to listen. You weren’t sure if you should trust her, knowing her past with Agatha and that she might have done something that Agatha could never forgive her for doing. 
Still you trusted her. 
“You’re a good pet to your mistress, aren’t you, little one?” Rio asked, her voice breaking the silence, your eyebrows furrowed, unsure of why she was asking this. 
“Yes, I’m only good for her” you answered, hopefully giving her something that would please her. 
She chuckled. 
And there were no more words spoken after that. 
You finally ran into your Mistress, she was standing, not looking in the direction where you and Rio had walked from, you knew the three of you weren’t that far from the others, but time felt strange here, it felt like you walked hours, you knew that wasn’t true. As no one in the coven can stray away from the path. 
“Got your cute little pet, Agatha” Rio murmured to your Mistress, you were still completely and utterly unsure of what was going on between them, or why Rio called for you, you were just the happiest to finally see your Mistress again. 
“Mistress…” you said, it almost sounded like a whisper, your hand reaching out to her, god you were so desperate to feel her again. 
She turned around, her eyes burning into yours as your heartbeat faster in your chest, the two of you haven’t really said anything to one another since the last time when you confessed why you were not behaving. She didn’t say anything about a punishment, she knew you’d take it, you wouldn’t hide away from her discipline. 
“Kneel” she demanded, as much as she wanted to wrap her arms around you and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, she needed something else from you in the meantime. 
You kneeled for her. As she expected. 
Her lips curled into a smile as she nodded, muttering a “good pet” making your heart flutter from her praise. You’ve seemed to forget Rio’s entire existence, who was still standing there watching you both, not saying a word, as you were too focused on Agatha to care about anything else around you. 
Agatha stepped closer to you, she lifted up her skirt, as she swung one leg over your shoulder, you waited until the next order, though there was something about her that felt different. Did she and Rio have a chat before you came? What did they discuss? You were certain for a while that she hated her, but there was more to it than they showed. 
She lowered herself onto you, you happily licked up her pussy, groaning at how wet it was, she must have missed you too. You wrapped your lips around her clit, hearing her moans get louder as she was biting on something, which was rare, Agatha didn’t shy away from being vocal, but neither one of you weren’t so alone either way. You sucked harder, she gasped and her hips moved faster against your mouth while she chased for her high, that was coming close, you felt how her thighs tightened around your head, she was panting, hard, you knew she needed this as you didn’t stop until she said so. 
This would be the first time you’ve touched her since… a while for you as passed. 
Agatha whined, her head thrown back as everything inside her felt like it was on fire, like she had control again, she had her power back, this fed her hunger, when she was hungry, you were always there to give her whatever she wanted. 
She came with a cry, there was no bother in trying to hide now, as she opened her eyes again, she saw Rio staring right back at her, she felt hot all over. 
“Now I see” she said with a hum, tilting her head to the side as she watched Agatha fuck herself on your face, it was a sight to see for her, she enjoyed it a lot. “I knew they were more than just a familiar for you, did you get that lonely, sweetheart?” Rio teased with a pout. 
Only then the realisation hit you that Rio was still here, once Agatha got herself off of you, you licked your lips, still tasting her. You turned around to see the other witch there, dumbfounded. 
“Mistress, what?-” 
She raised her hand, shutting you up. 
“Good pet” she purred, walking closer to you as she grabbed your chin, she grinned wickedly, there was a change in her. “From now on, I’m going to have Rio here to watch me fuck you, anyway I want, you won’t even know she’s there, but I have a feeling you like it, don’t you? You like others watching us, it's obvious, pet” she chuckled, she leaned in and kissed you, rough, you felt her teeth on your bottom lip, biting down, making you bleed. 
So this was what she meant from before, when she said to let her handle it. 
You weren’t sure if this was your reward, or something the two of them wanted you to do for them, either way, you obeyed her. 
It sure as hell felt like you won your prize.
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moonstruckme · 2 months ago
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Hi lovely! I’ve been wanting to request to you for while bc I love your writing so much but I’m not used to requesting so idk 😭
Ok so I LOVE the way you write for wolfstar x reader. I was wondering if you could write smth where reader gets drunk (or just tipsy) and, bc of the alcohol, she gets more confident and starts being super verbally affectionate when she normally isn’t. It’s not that she’s shy but she just isn’t really a verbally affectionate person.
Thank you lovely!
cw: alcohol, inebriation
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
“You don’t just casually brush a customer’s hand unless you’re hitting on them!” Sirius insists as he jimmies his key in the front door. “And right in front of us, too. The gall!” 
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to.” He can practically hear Remus’ eyes rolling. “He wasn’t hitting on me.” 
“Our angel and I didn’t get felt up when he gave us our drinks.” 
Something suspiciously giggle-esque comes out of Remus. “He didn’t feel me up!” 
“I think you just don’t understand how handsome you are,” you say in a voice made of dandelion fluff, soft and light and pure. “People like you more than you realize. It’s sort of sweet how you don’t notice, though.” 
The lock finally gives. Sirius opens the door gallantly, allowing you and Remus to spill inside first. You’re clinging to your boyfriend like moss to a tree, and Sirius is endlessly grateful for Remus’ physical stability even in inebriation so that he doesn’t have to support the both of you himself. 
Sirius never sets out to be the most sober at the end of the night, but Remus only had as many drinks as Sirius and has somehow ended up twice as tipsy. Sirius’ theory: the bartender took a liking to him and poured him doubles as a token of his affection. Considering Remus’ tall frame, Welsh origins, and the fact that he’s been able to drink Sirius under the table since they were fifteen, this seems the only reasonable explanation. 
“Me?” Remus sounds genuinely surprised, a bit of bashfulness creeping into his tone. 
“Mhm,” you hum. “Remember that barista last week? She liked you, too, but you couldn’t tell then either.” 
“She liked me because I had a simple order.” 
You shake your head, smiling up at him all soft and adoring. “No, she liked you because you’re lovely.” You reach up, tracing the lines of one of his scars with your fingertip. “Very, very lovely.” 
Sirius is inclined to agree, even as Remus’ face goes a very, very lovely rosy hue. You’re in rare form tonight, honey-tongued and expressive in ways you’re usually not inclined to. You’ve been overflowing with declarations of love and sweetness since you all left the bar. 
“Do you want something to drink, my loves?” Sirius asks as Remus tries to collapse to the floor as carefully as he can so that he can take his shoes off with you stuck to his side. 
“Awe, Siri,” you turn to him with a look of wonder, “are you gonna make sure we’re fed and watered?” 
Sirius can’t help himself. He crouches beside you, slotting his hand alongside your face. You’re positively moony-eyed. 
“I sure am, sweetness. Is that okay with you?” 
You nod, rubbing your cheek against his palm. “I love you when you take care of us. I mean,” you get very serious, “I love you all of the time. It’s not conditional, just, this is a bit extra.” 
Sirius is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. “Noted,” he tells you. 
You continue to look at him with that sweet, dreamy expression, and Sirius realizes you’ve likely forgotten he ever asked you a question. He’d be content to do this with you all night, except the only thing that sounds better than sitting here holding your face is getting to hold both you and Remus once he gets you both in bed. 
Also, now your boyfriend is watching the two of you with a lovelorn expression, clearly feeling left out, and Sirius can’t have that. 
“Do you want some water, darling?” he asks him. 
Remus’ cheeks pinken again at being caught. “I wouldn’t mind some. I can get it.” 
“No, you say here.” Sirius stands, setting a fond hand atop his boyfriend’s head. “Why don’t you two take your shoes off, and I’ll bring it to you.” 
Sirius can hear you and Remus whispering and giggling to each other from the kitchen. Your voices intertwine in a sweet, steady susurrus, as much as part of your home as the hum of the refrigerator or the creaking of the pipes. When Sirius comes back with a cup for each of you, you’ve waylaid Remus on the floor, your torso half atop his and his hands cupping your face. You’re both smiling tenderheartedly. One of your shoes is still on, the clasp undone. Sirius sits by your feet.
“My lovely dovely,” Remus is murmuring, sozzled, squishing your face between his hands. You look nearly ready to melt into a puddle on their floor when you feel Sirius pulling off your remaining shoe and look back at him. 
“Sirius.” You appear delighted to see him. “Did you have a fun time tonight?” 
He presses cups of water into both of your hands. You sit up to drink yours, whereas Remus tips the cup half on his face when he tries to drink it lying down. 
“I did,” Sirius replies. He clasps Remus’ hand to help him up, and the other boy lets him. “Did you?” 
Remus runs his fingers up the length of Sirius’ forearm. “Did you really?” he asks. There’s a small divot of worry between his brows.
Sirius frowns. He leans forward, kissing it away. “Of course I did, lovely. Why are you asking?” 
“We were just saying,” you answer for him, “that we hope you did still have a good time, even though now you have to look after us.” 
A little laugh puffs out of Sirius, relieved. “Oh. Well you’ve got nothing to worry about there, yeah? I love looking after you.”
You glance at Remus, smiling. “That’s what I said.” 
“Next time,” Remus says somberly, “you can get as drunk as you like, and we’ll bring you home and feed you water.” 
“And massage your back,” you add. “And give you cuddles, if you like.” 
“I like the sound of that very much,” Sirius agrees. “Is this your way of telling me you’d like back massages and cuddles?” 
You smile at him dopily. “I love you,” you say. 
Sirius rolls his eyes. “I love you too. Alright, you win. Back massages and cuddles if you both finish your waters and get in bed.” 
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thebestsetter · 3 months ago
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He has never been afraid of dying.
Death doesn't fright him. He sees it as a natural part of the cycle of life. One must be born, live their life, possibly reproduce so their species can keep on existing and then die. All animals, be it a big magnificient whale or a little insignificant ant, have to do this too. This is what they all have in common (and honestly, it's beautiful how all animals have to experience this. It brings humans and animals closer).
Everyone dies, be it the sinner or the saint, the rich or the poor. Death doesn't discriminate people. It just comes and takes everyone (which is kinda funny, since people think that money or looks make them different from the other. They don't. We're all equal. The bullet that kills the powerful is also capable of killing the weak). And frankly, he's okay with that. He knows it'll happen.
Given his work condition, he knows he's more inclined to die than the average person. Everyday, he has to go out there and risk his life, saving hundreds of people he doesn't even know and sometimes not even getting a "thank you" back. It's frustrating, but it's not like he's giving up. Before he dies, he wants to make this world a little bit better. It probably won't be much, but he still wants to feel useful. He wants to feel like he did something good.
"Oh God! You're okay! You're really okay! I was so worried about you!"
He doesn't fear death. Which is why he doesn't understand why he feels like crying when you visit him at the hospital he was staying at after a mission that went wrong. Death doesn't scare him, so he's not quite sure why his hands tremble when they reach to pat your head. He shouldn't react like this. He's never reacted this way before
"Please, don't ever do that again! Never ever!" Your grip in his waist tightens to the point where his lungs are burning for air, but he still doesn't want you to let go.
"You have no idea how scared I was. When the hospital called me saying you were here, I felt like my mind was going a hundred per hour! Please, don't die..."
How can you ask him this? You both know it's impossible. He's going to die one day, it can't be helped. You can't escape death's claws. No one can escape their funeral. You're torturing him. You know he doesn't like to lie to you. He can't just say "I won't die" cause it's simply not true!
"Please don't die" you repeat, and his hands movement comes to a halt "Because I'll be lonely if you die. Don't leave me alone, please."
And suddenly, it all makes sense.
He still isn't afraid of dying. But suddenly, the mention of death leaves an itching feeling at the back of his throat. It makes him sick thinking about you going on with your life, possibly mourning over his death for a long time (he doesn't ever want you to be sad, especially not because of him. Strangely, a sick, twisted part of him wants you to cry when he dies. To be sad. To not move on fastly. He quickly supresses those thoughts though) and then completely forgetting him and starting a new family (this thought makes him sick to the stomach. He feels like a very bad guy when thinking about how he doesn't want you to find another man to replace him. You always said he was irreplaceable after all).
He will forever be someone who was, not someone who is. He'll be lost in time, a name you'll mention once or twice on a conversation while smiling and thinking about the good times you had together.
He'll never hear your laugh and your voice again, will never take you out on extravagant dates and have movie nights watching silly movies and laughing at the special effects. Leaving you alone in this dangerous world feels almost criminal.
Death doesn't make him feel bad. Having you forget him after he dies makes him feel like absolute shit.
And so, even though he can't promise you that he won't die, he can promise one thing. He grabs one of your hands in his, looking at you as serious as he can be.
"You won't ever be alone." He says, and you feel like crying. He then smiles weakly "I promise. I love you. Our love is too strong to be stopped by death." He kisses your hand and then quotes the same sentence he uttered at your wedding day "Remember? 'And if death do us apart, I promise to find you in every other timeline.'"
And just like he did that day, he props up in the hospital bed and kisses you.
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, ITADORI YUJI, Gojo Satoru, Inumaki Toge (or maybe I'm just a glazer ☹️), Nanami Kento (idk, I just feel like it fits him), TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Ejirou, Izuku Midoriya, Aizawa Shota, HAWKS + any character you think fits this!!
~ A/N: this can be read as a sequel of another fic of mine. It also can be read on it's own though (but please, do check the other one if you're interested!!). Also, you can see some Hamilton songs' references here and there (cause I'm a theater kid 😔) AND this was inspired by a line in "Cowboy Beebop"
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keytomind · 5 months ago
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The right woman isn’t going to pick an argument with you for game or sport. She has had her fill of that bullshit and she is tired of it. If she picks an argument with you, it’s because she wants to teach you something important. She wants you to grow as a person or she wants the two of you to grow as a power couple. The right woman isn’t here for a fight. She is here to love you.
The right woman doesn��t need a boy; she needs a man. She needs a man who is capable of elevating himself, a man who does not mind being corrected if it is going to make him a better person. She needs a man who points the finger at himself before he dares point it outward at anyone or anything else. She needs a man of confidence who will inspire her to do better for herself and her family. The right woman no longer has any patience for boys, except for her sons (and even that wears thin).
The right woman wants to suffocate and drown herself in your masculinity. It makes her feel warm, loved, safe, and protected. By providing her with your masculine energy, you are creating an environment that allows her to radiate her own feminine energy, which is something that every man truly needs. He needs her loving warmth in order to balance himself out and to become the best version of himself. His voice, his mind, and his body will all be able to relax from the wars that he fights every day. The right woman is not threatened by toxic masculinity as she understands that the only thing toxic about masculinity is the absence of it in a man.
The right woman does not hide behind her man. Although she often wants him to lead and to assert his masculine energy appropriately, she will fight alongside him like a warrior Queen. And even though he would rather she stayed out of harm’s way, she would even stand in front of him and take a bullet to protect him. She goes to battle next to him whenever necessary and she safeguards his darkest secrets under lock and key. The right woman does not run away; she plants her feet like roots and she weathers the storm right next to him.
The right woman does not make excuses. She knows that she is not perfect and that there is still much that she can learn. She possesses the raw emotional intelligence to know that she isn’t always correct. She loves for him to teach her new things without belittling her or making her feel unintelligent. She takes accountability when she is wrong and she does her best to take action whenever possible. She is a true Goddess to the world who craves to be soft and little in the arms of the deserving man. The right woman is a force to be reckoned with.
The right woman learns his love language without asking, although there is no shame in asking in order to learn better. She studies his every move - what does he like, what does he want, what does he need - what turns him on, what makes him happy, what does he hold close to his heart.. what does he fear… she wants to know every single detail so that she can love him correctly. And the right woman should only expect the same reciprocity for herself.
The right woman understands that we are a team and that he is not a punching bag. Men are conditioned to be protective and to be strong, but men also fall weak because the human body can only take so much abuse, and some of our greatest battles are fought in our minds. This is not a sign of a lack of strength but rather it is an indication that he must rest as he is exhausted from fighting certain battles alone. While he would rather she did not engage in certain battles, he needs help dressing his wounds, protecting his body, and relaxing his mind so that he can safely remove his armor. The right woman will spring to action without having to be asked as nurturing him to health is her greatest reward.
The right woman doesn’t need to fight other women if they show you favorable attention. She knows to handle such battles with grace and she does not need to clench her fists. She instead will walk right into view, grab you by your tie, kiss you like it might be your last night on earth, and cling to you like a lifeboat while making eye contact with her newfound enemy, letting her know who won the battle without firing a single shot. Again, the right woman is a masterful Goddess who claims her territory appropriately.
The right woman comes in many different forms. She varies in shape, size, color, beauty, attitude, and much more. She will have her heart broken, probably more than once, by a man who did not value her for looking differently on the exterior. This will wound her temporarily, but in time, the right woman rises from her ashes and she learns her worth. If another man doesn’t value her for any such reasons, then she dodged a bullet because, ladies, I fucking promise you that there is a man out there, perhaps many men, who adore you exactly the way you are. If you aren’t his cup of tea, so be it, and if he doesn’t want you for you, the right woman knows when to say “fuck em”.
The right woman deserves absolutely nothing less than the right man, for without the right woman, that man is nobody and nothing. She makes him whole. She gives him great purpose. She gives him life and energy that had evaded him for years before they met each other. He would die for her as she would die for him, and it will be hell when the day comes that they are forced to live without each other. She may bless him with a family one day, but if not, they will make their home warm and full of the love that they both need to enjoy their time spent here in this life.
The right woman is absolutely fucking priceless. Fight for her and, when you do, the right woman will fight for you.
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yvvxs · 4 months ago
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Creeps...
‎ ↪ ft. argenti. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dr ratio. jing yuan. warnings: creeps, stalkers, the such.
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"I understand you want to admire their beauty and know them better, but could you please step away?" Argenti asks in a kind, yet stern voice as he steps in between you and a weirdo who was persistent in trying to get your phone number. The person sighs, looking upset as they resign, reluctantly leaving from your side. He asks about your condition, whether they tried anything, as he's worried for you after you experienced such a thing.
Aventurine wraps his arm around your waist, interrupting the awkward and unpleasant conversation you were having with the creep, who was asking weird and personal questions. "Who are you? Why are you touching them?" They asked, upset by his actions and acting all protective of you despite the true intent in their actions. "I'm their boyfriend." He gives them a smile, and they look at you, who nods in confirmation. They furrow their brows, leaving upset that they couldn't have you. Unfortunately, you were already taken by your dear Kakavasha, and no one could tear you away from him.
Blade only has to give whoever was stalking you from a distance a glare, and they run and hide away like the scaredy-cats that they were. If looks could kill, your boyfriend probably would have a higher bounty than he already had. Any stalkers or creeps that even tried to follow you would go away with one wrong look from Blade, as he looked too threatening for anyone to even think of messing with. At least you were safe from any weirdos when you were with him.
When a creep even dares to bother you, you don't have to worry about it as long as you have Boothill by your side. He'd go swearing his mouth off at them. If his Synesthesia Beacon wasn't censoring him with every word, his threats would be more scary than they already were. He would usually pipe it down when dealing with other people.. But he was running his mouth off angrily, more than when he would be with any IPC members. He loved you so much, and swore to protect you, even from any people who dared to come close like this.
"Don't you know that I'm the famous Galactic Baseballer?" Caelus boasts proudly, chest puffed up proudly and his hands on his hips. The weirdo that was trying to pursue you awkwardly looked at the man, trying to understand what nonsense was being spat out of this.. raccoon-looking person. Eventually, bored and confused by whatever he was saying, they decided to leave, thinking that it wasn't worth the effort trying to even get your name when someone like this was in your way. You thank him with a smile, and can't help but smile at the 'tactic' Caelus used to deter them.
Dr. Ratio clears his throat, sending a glare at the student in his lecture who was staring at you for a bit too long now. The person who dared to look at his love in that way wasn't going to get away with it. He decided to call them up, asking them a question about the topic they were just talking about. Leaving them embarrassed and ashamed as they were unable to answer, proving that they weren't listening, but rather, focusing on you. He scolds them with a frown, continuing to work as they finally listen to his words, not wanting to go through that again.
"Leave them alone." Jing Yuan just has to say one word, as the creep realizes that the General himself was stepping into the scene. They respectfully bow as if they weren't doing anything previously, though the three of you know the truth about what was happening. They awkwardly leave you be, not wanting to mess with Jing Yuan.. Who knows what trouble they would have gone through if they were to anger him..
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↪ When Jiaoqiu releases I'll release the next love language post.
Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.
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kingkatsuki · 1 year ago
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— heatwave
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I’m suffering through the heatwave over here, and Bakugou is the only thing that could make it better or worse.
Warnings: 18+, not proofread, Bakugou is your roommate, sweaty sex, dirty talk, spanking, creampie.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 3.8k.
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“It’s too damn hot,” Bakugou growled as he lay the back of his head against the couch. Even the soft, worn fabric was uncomfortable against his back. Retaining more heat than necessary paired with his body temperature it had sweat pooling against his skin.
Life as an up and coming Pro-Hero had been rough. With long shifts, terrible hours and little pay he was stuck in this dingy, stuffy apartment. Waiting for the day he’d add an extra figure onto his paycheck to have enough to move out. Things like air conditioning were a lavish luxury that he couldn’t afford right now, so it meant suffering through the torridness with a small ice pack he’d grabbed from the freezer.
The only bonus was having a roommate like you.
Originally Bakugou had been adverse to living under the same roof as someone, unable to trust anyone living in close quarters with him. There was an entire cacophony of issues that could arise from picking the wrong person— from being kept up all night, the mess they could leave behind to having friends or hookups in his shared space.
But you had been a godsend, understanding of his unsocial work schedule and his house rules. You could even argue that you were a better roommate than he was, with his friends delighting in showing up unannounced and causing a mess in his apartment. Something that you were always so understanding of when you’d join them for movie nights or dinner.
You were a blessing. Or now that he thought about it, perhaps it was a curse. Now forced to watch you practically saunter around in the shortest short shorts known to man in a feeble attempt to try and deal with the extreme temperatures. Your top half not much better, the stringy vest top you wore— without a bra no less— exposed your midriff and the cute stiffened peaks of your nipples. Not that he was looking, and even if he was what did you expect him to do.
Rubbing sweat from his upper lip as he spreads his legs wide on the couch as you made your way into the kitchen, his crimson eyes roaming your figure as the shorts hugged the swell of your ass perfectly. Dipping in between the cheeks as he imagined pulling them apart to see what was hidden between them, the material dangerously close to revealing it to him anyway—
You were doing absolutely nothing to help quell the heat oozing through his body. In fact, Bakugou was certain you were making it worse. His cock jumping at the sight of you, pulsing beneath his shorts as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Praying that this sudden heatwave would cease and he could stop being tortured by the sight of you like this every damn day, it was bad enough when he’d catch peeks of you in a towel coming from the bathroom towards your bedroom, or forgotten panties left strewn around. But this? This was unbearable.
“I can’t deal with this heat,” The whiny tone to your voice had Bakugou silencing a growl deep in his chest, watching you hold the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically, “I wanna sit in the freezer.”
“Don’t you dare.” Bakugou knew from experience the heat alone would be enough to shut down the entire machine, and you both definitely didn’t have enough money to replace it if it did.
And that freezer was the only thing satiating the heat so far. Shoving his melting ice pack against his chest, the contents quickly changing form to liquid as he tried to make the most of it before it would have to go back inside the freezer.
“Let me feel,” You came around the couch to stand in front of him, his eyes set in a heavy glare as he tried to weigh up whether it was worth letting you feel how cold the pack was.
It was bad enough having you so scantily clad in such short proximity to him right now, certain he could now smell the saccharine of your perfume as you pulled the top of your vest down, exposing the swell of your breasts as you presented your sternum to him.
Bakugou pushes the pack to your chest and immediately regrets it when the sound you let out is downright sinful. You have to know what you’re doing to him, the way your lips curl into a delicious looking pout and your eyes roll to the back of your skull.
“Oh god, that feels so fucking good.” You moaned, eyes clenched shut to focus on the cool chill that slowly washed over your chest.
His cock jumps in his shorts as he tries to shift his hips to avoid you from noticing the now very evident bulge, the throb pounding through his veins as he feels a different kind of heat beginning to take over.
He should stop here, take his ice pack back and tell you to go and sit in front of your mini desk fan again. Get you out of the room and as far away as possible and save this for another day, a day when you’re both not delirious from the intense heat.
But his depraved thoughts have already consumed him, the thought of your plush body pressed against his while he slides his throbbing cock inside you now at the forefront of his mind as he presses the pack lower. Watching as you arch your back towards it, welcoming the cool chill as you lean forward to splay your sweaty palms against his thick thighs.
And whether he’s delirious from the heat, or it’s the desperate look in your eyes he doesn’t know. All he knows is he’s kissing you fiercely, the ice pack drops forgotten between your bodies in favour of grabbing your hips.
“Fuck,” You kiss him back, words swallowed by his chapped lips as you feel the bulge between his thighs press snug against your crotch.
Your hands reach up to card through messy blond spikes as your nails graze his damp scalp, your tongue swiped against his as he palms your ass. Calloused fingertips disappear beneath the flimsy fabric as he squeezes the fat of it, tugging you down against his hardness as he pulls more sultry sounds from your throat.
“It’s too hot for this, Katsuki.” You whine, breaking the kiss as you gasp for air in the humid room.
At this chance Bakugou’s lips venture lower, peppering kisses along your jawline towards your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your vest. Tugging the fabric down to reveal your round breasts, his tongue pokes out to wet his lips at the marvellous sight.
His nighttime fantasies can’t compare to the sight in front of him, crimson eyes shamelessly ogle your skin to commit the sight to memory as he leans forward.
“Shut up,” He rasps back gruffly while mouthing your breast.
You’re right, it’s entirely too hot for any kind of strenuous activity, especially when he’s sweating so much it already feels like he’s run a marathon. But the way your soft body feels pressed against his is too much to pass up. Especially when this is what he’s been dreaming about ever since he moved in with you, fisting his cock too. It’s too much to leave it to chance that he may get this opportunity again later. Bakugou’s always been a greedy man, and he wants to have you now.
“Fuck,” You cry out when his teeth graze your nipple, pushing your crotch against his with more urgency.
Certain you’ve leaked through the flimsy fabric, desire surges through you dense and fast. A stark contrast to your lethargic movements as you grind yourself down on his lap pathetically.
“Katsuki,” You whine.
His strong hands are doing all the work as he moves you how he pleases. Strong palms pick you up by the meat of your ass to drop you back down on his length. Grinding your puffy clit against his pelvis with each motion as he has you crying out in pleasure.
“Fuck, Katsu. S’too hot—”
You weren’t sure whether it was the humid air permeating the room or the way that Bakugou was looking at you with smouldering eyes that had your body aflame. Muggy, vapid air filling your lungs as clammy hands stroked along his bare torso. Mapping out a course of newly discovered territory as you let your thumbs brush against his pebbled nipples, his chest vibrating against your touch with more sultry groans.
“I know you are, sweetheart.” He hummed, his fingers brushing the crotch of your shorts, “Let me make you feel good.”
“Oh,” You gasped when you felt the calloused pads stroke your labia, involuntarily leaning forward to give him more space as Bakugou began to spread you apart for him. Fingers gliding through your messy folds, dragging your essence along your slit until he found your puffy clit.
The contact had you jolting forward, nails grazing his chest as he focused his attention on it. Circling it tentatively with the pad of his finger as you began to rock your hips back against him, uncaring about how debauched you looked as you began to seek your own pleasure.
“Yeah?” He rasped, and the gravelly husk did nothing but increase the desperation inside you, “You like that?”
“Fuck, please—“ You buried your head in the curve of his neck, your lips pressed against the slick skin as you tasted the saltiness of his sweat on your tongue.
“Please what, sweetheart,” He cooed.
“Please—“ You gasped when you felt his thumb press against your empty hole. He knew exactly what you wanted, he was toying with you.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Your fingers.” You were shameless, your hips grinding back against him as Bakugou finally took mercy on you and pushed his thumb into your sloppy entrance. The slightest penetration enough to drag a deep moan from your throat as he kept his focus against your clit, leaning his head back against the couch to try and see the blissful expression on your face as he worked you with precision.
“Got no damn idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” He husked against your ear, lips soft against the shell as you clenched around him in response, “Always walkin’ round in those fuckin’ short shorts got me wanting to bend you over every surface in this house.”
“Oh fuck,” You mewled, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as he kept his pace constant against your clit, his thumb positioned to press against your spongy wall as his other hand tightened its grip on your ass. Spreading you open, as you found your bliss, “Katsuki.”
“That’s it, good girl.” He hummed, feeling your walls pulse around his digit as he kept his pace. Working you through your release as he pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your temple.
You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d wished the same, coming into the kitchen to see him still in full hero gear after work. Dirt and grime covering his body as his mask was pulled up over his forehead to show his blackened eyes, bending over to grab the carton of juice from the fridge as he held it up to his lips to chug it. Watching his Adam’s apple bob as the liquid flowed, giving you the perfect view of him as you tried to busy yourself to hide the fact you were blatantly staring.
Or the moments where he’d come out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips to shout at you for using the taps in the kitchen while he was showering. The cheap apartment had one flow of hot water and it shut off that luxury whenever it was used elsewhere. The cold water catching him off guard as he glared at you, water droplets drooling down his perfect skin and making him look more like an ancient god or deity than your roommate.
“So why didn’t you?” You asked when you’d come down from your high.
“Huh?” Bakugou’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt before.”
“I like livin’ with you,” He shrugged, “Didn’t wanna jeopardise that.”
“You wouldn’t have,” You smiled, pulling yourself back from his neck to meet his gaze, “I like you too.”
“That mean I can finally eat this pretty little pussy?” He groaned, shuffling his hips, “Been thinkin’ about it since the day I met you.”
“Later, please—” You pawed at the hard bulge between his thigh, his pre staining the fabric as you pressed against the tip.
“Fuck,” He grunted, shamelessly bringing his fingers to his lips to get a taste of you. His tongue sweeping against his digits to clean them of your slick, “Gonna take you over every damn surface in this house, princess.”
Your fingers curled into the hem of his shorts, Bakugou lifting his hips off the couch to help you drag them down just enough to free his heady cock— the sight of it better than you’d ever imagined in those nightly fantasies.
He was thick and long, bulging veins that forked along the length of him only made him seem that much more intimidating as his balls sat heavy at the base. Neatly trimmed blond hairs decorated his pelvis as they created a pretty trail along his abdomen, unable to resist running your hand along it as his stomach folded at the touch. A sharp hiss sucked sharp through his teeth as you wrapped your hand around him at the base, holding him steady so you could see the tip. The head a swollen pink as pre continued to bead at the slit, drooling down towards his frenulum as you moved to settle between his thighs. Wanting a taste of him yourself as you swiped your thumb over the leaky tip of his cock.
“Oi, I thought you said later,” He teased, rough hands steady on your hips to stop you from moving.
“Please,” You whined pathetically, “Wanna taste you.”
You brought your thumb to your lips as your tongue swiped at the surface, tasting him on your tongue as your lashes fluttered. Crimson eyes focused on your movements as his cock twitched in appreciation, tempted to let you do whatever you pleased. But he’d been waiting far too long for this moment, and there was no way he could wait any longer.
“You little minx,” He groaned as you sucked your thumb, “I promise later.” He groaned, tugging at your shorts, “Do you like these?”
“Yeah, they’re— what the fuck, Katsuki?”
You gasped when you heard the sharp sound of ripping fabric, “I said I liked them.”
“Sorry,” You could tell from the smug grin on his face that he was anything but as he positioned you above his leaky cock, “I gotta have you now.”
You held onto his shoulders as he wrapped a large fist around his cock, dragging the tip through your slick as he felt it catch against your tight entrance. His other hand on your hip slowly dropping you down onto his length as you felt the pleasurable ache of him stretching you open ebb through your pelvis.
“I got you, sweetheart,” He groaned, watching his cock slowly disappear inside you as he felt your warm walls wrap snugly around him, “Gonna take such good care of you.”
You felt hot, the heat radiating from your sex sweltering and yet you didn’t want to let go. The thick girth of his cock filled you perfectly as you felt him pressed against every ridge and groove of your cunt like he was made for you.
Your lips move together languidly, tasting the saltiness from his upper lip as you move together in tandem. Wet and sloppy while his tongue strokes yours, desperation evident by the way you try to deepen the kiss. As though you’re trying to melt into him, to feel him devour you whole.
“Oh, shit.” You choke back a cry when you feel the tip of his cock hit a spot deep inside you, certain you’ve never had something quite so big before.
You struggle to lift yourself up with your legs spread wide over his thick thighs as you grind yourself against his lap. Your clit catching against the trimmed hairs at his base as you roll your hips with desire, your chest pressed taut to his as you start a lazy pace. The scorching heat inside the apartment makes it difficult to breathe as you writhe in his lap, his warm breath fans against your skin almost feels cooler than the thick air clouding the room.
“Kats. It’s too hot.” You whine pathetically, your pace clumsy and sluggish as the desire inside you burns hot and heavy.
“You started this.” He retorts cockily with a smug smirk on his face.
“I did not.” You pout, “This is your fault.”
“Stop whinin’” He reaches back to bring his palm down on your ass in a rough smack, the sweatiness of his quirk has his skin tacking to you as it increases the sensation, clinging to your skin as you gasp in surprise. A painful pleasure courses through your veins as the skin prickles beneath his touch, your pliant walls clamping down around his girth in retaliation.
Without hesitating he reaches his large palms back to cup a cheek in each hand, lifting you up languidly as he marvels the glossy sheen your slick leaves on his cock.
“You just sit there and look pretty, let me do the work.” He spread is thighs wider, giving himself more air as he shifted your weight. Picking you up and dropping you down on his length as he listened to the pretty sounds that spilled from you like a siren, drawing him in and capturing his heart as you pulsed around him.
“Why couldn’t you have got an ice quirk?”
Clammy hands paw at his shoulders as Bakugou repeats the motion, skin tacking to skin as he bounces you on his cock. The kinetic energy builds heat swiftly and harsh as you feel the stickiness against your skin. Your wetness seeps out against his pelvis and matts the hair at his base, catching your clit with each drop of your hips.
“Shut the fuck up,” He scoffed, “You won’t be sayin’ that come winter.”
The thought of having his warm body to warm you during those cold winter months, still being with him then— had you clenching around him.
“Oh yeah? You like the sound of that?” He grinned, “Can feel this pussy clenchin’ around me.”
“Fuck, Katsuki.” The heat was becoming unbearable, radiating from your core as it burned molten lava. The coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as you danced on the crux of your release, gasping for air as he changed tact. Holding your hips tight under sweaty palms as he planted his feet flat on the ground, pistoning his hips up into your pliant sex, “There— oh, god. Right there—”
“That’s it,” He rasped, watching your tits bounce with each rapid thrust, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”
“‘m gonna cum,” You choked out between moans, feeling the curved tip of his cock drag against the spongy spot inside you with each thrust, “Oh shit—”
“Cum for me,” He growled, “Cum all over my cock.”
The tips of Bakugou’s thumbs pressed against your pelvis, tightening his grip as it only increased the pressure. Sweat trickling down your temples as he sent you vaulting over the edge into euphoria.
“Good girl,” He grunted, feeling your walls clamp down around his cock as you willed him to come with you, trying to milk him of his seed.
The pleasure was unlike anything you’d felt before, mind-numbingly intense as you cried out a jumbled mess of his name. Your nails digging crescent moons into his skin as he hissed beneath you, shamelessly searching for his own end as the heat radiated from your body. Sliding against each other from the sweat that now trickled down your skin, leaving a glossy sheen against you both as he used you for his own pleasure.
“I’m gonna cum,” Bakugou grunted, moving to lift you off his cock before you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, unbothered about the stifling heat in the room as you kept him tight against you.
“Cum inside me, Katsuki.” You gasped a he choked back a grunt, your words all it took to meet his own end.
His guttural moans are sinful, erotic as you cling to him with fervour. Committing the sensation to memory as though it’s the last time you’ll have him like this, as if the heat has him in this delirious state. And maybe it does—
You never thought Bakugou could look so pretty like this, completely vulnerable as he exposes his most intimate self to you. Thick, white spurts of cum spurt from his tip as he empties his balls inside you.
“Fuck, baby.” He breathes hot and heavy as you feel his chest rise and fall against yours.
Bodies slumped together on the couch as you feel the dampness of skin against skin, your vest that now sits useless around your waist is soaked and warm as the fabric clings to your body.
“I’m so sticky,” You whine childishly, making no attempt to move as Bakugou’s fingers trace absent-minded patterns along your exposed back.
“How the fuck dya think I feel?” He rasps, “My ass is stuck to the couch.”
“Eww,” You tease, running your nose along his collarbone as you take in the musky scent of him, “We’ll have to get another couch.”
He catches you by surprise as he presses the forgotten ice pack to the back of your neck, although it’s mostly melted it’s a stark contrast to your sweltering body as you flinch in surprise. Your cunt clenches around him at the sensation as Bakugou grunts from the attention.
“Oh shit, don’t do that sweetheart—“ He hisses, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you tight against him, “You’ll make me hard again.”
Something that you’re not sure you’d mind, even though your body is screaming out for a different kind of relief now. Desperate to cool your temperature down as you scrunch your nose in irritation.
“I feel so gross.” You complain as he gives your ass another playful spank as you barely move from the impact, your bodies stuck together with a mixture of heat and sweat.
“Got no one to blame but yourself, princess,” He groans, “I was just mindin’ my business until you came over in those little shorts.”
“You weren’t complaining when you were balls deep.” You moved your head back to glare at him.
“My balls feel like they’re on fire now,” He scoffs, leaning forward to peck your pouty lips, “Cold shower?” He asks, although he’s already decided he’s showering with you— he’s taking every moment he can with you now.
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fatuismooches · 4 months ago
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amandus est videri.
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synopsis: Your birthday rolls around again, and you expect it to be a nice, relaxed day as always. But your illness hasn’t been the kindest to you lately, so Dottore decides to spoil you, as best as a man like him knows how to anyway.
includes: dottore w/ gn! reader
notes: Just a fluff, self-indulgent fic of Dottore being soft for you on your birthday. Fragile reader. He comforts you a lot at the end. Last year's fic.
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Birthdays were a special thing, no doubt.
It was a day that many looked forward to. It represented another year of growing older, a joyful celebration with the ones you loved as you looked forward to the future. At least, that was the case for some people. For others, they simply didn’t care. Your husband was a good example. If you didn’t remind Dottore every year and present him with a gift, you were sure the day would pass like any other, whether he remembered it was his birthday or not.
You, on the other hand, were probably in the middle of these two feelings. Yes, you did look forward to the day, but you supposed it had lost some of the charm it should have. It had been so many years since you’d woken up from your almost eternal rest, and even longer since you had been plagued with this sickness. Therefore all of your birthdays have been spent with the same lingering feeling in the back of your mind - when will you spend your special day in good health, free to feel and think and act in the way you truly want to? At this point, the only reason you continued to ask for a large cake was to indulge the segments’ sweets cravings.
Still, your birthday did make you happy, whether it was from the lavishing affection from your lovers or the gifts you received (how you survived without your beloved Headcircles for so long was beyond you.) This year would be no different. But it was obvious to the others that you had become more withdrawn and closed off than your normal self, which had come as a result of your stagnant condition. 
Of course, Dottore himself had become more than aware of this. He was an observant man after all, even on the days he didn’t see you or speak to you. He knew you, inside and out. Even now, he could understand the downcast look that sometimes sunk into your face when you thought no one was watching. 
Which was no doubt surprising to the average person, considering the severe lack of ethical practice and empathy from the Doctor. Of course, being a scholar first and foremost, results came first, regardless of what needed to happen to obtain them. But in truth, when it came to you, he was a genuine doctor, and you were his only genuine patient, to which he had the genuine goal of treating and curing you, unlike his other subjects. 
Therefore, due to this sincerity, it was simple for him to understand how you were affected by your illness. However, you refused to ever approach him about it first, which often led to a flood of tears later down the line, when he finally got you to stop holding back. Still, there was only so much he could do. He wasn’t made to comfort, his specialty was the opposite. He wasn’t a natural at producing soft words, and his hands didn’t know where to go to make it all better.
Nowadays, it wasn’t hard for him to admit to himself that he missed your lively and vibrant self. The person who would constantly tease and banter with him, unafraid to debate with him or be loud in their declarations with a once familiar wide smile, laying their hands all over him as they thought of the most minuscule thing to bother him with. Needless to say, Il Dottore didn’t appreciate interruptions during his work…
But he missed yours. 
However, he saw the approaching date of your birthday as a good opportunity to hopefully help that person come forth once more. Of course, he was never one to really care about birthdays, until you came along. It was all those years ago when he decided that the effort you put into it was worth reciprocating even just a bit. Good work should be rewarded after all. Though this gift was certainly much bigger than his previous ones, he believed it was well deserved.
The day was just like any other. You had started it by watching the endless snow continue to form in heaps as the segments conducted their daily prodding at your body for checkups, and then made yourself cozy in bed in the comfort of your room. A lot of your days had been spent like this lately, too tired to walk around or entertain yourself with the segments. 
That was okay - they still visited you from time to time. But a visit that you did not expect was from Dottore himself. You hadn’t even heard him come in, only realizing his presence when his deep voice tickled your ear, making you jump and scramble to sit up properly. The fox creature that had peacefully nested near your feet was also awoken by the sudden intrusion, glaring at the man who paid it no attention.
“That seems to be quite an absorbing book you’re reading.” He had no reaction to how he caused you a great fright.
“I keep telling you not to scare me like that,” you huffed, heart still racing from his sudden appearance and also his close proximity. He cocked his head to the side with a smile, feigning innocence, while you pouted at his response, slumping back into the sheets. Foxttore also crawled up to your side and made himself comfy there once more.
“I did knock. Multiple times, in fact,” he commented, moving to stand over you. You probably have not changed your position much since this morning. “You didn’t hear me, so I simply took matters into my own hands.” The unamused glint in your eyes managed to bring a familiar feeling into his chest.
“Regardless, while I would inquire into the contents of the literature that has you so engrossed,” he hummed, moving away from you to observe any recent additions to your room, “I have something more important to share.”
“Is that so? Have you come to tell me the update of the experiment you last spoke about?” You asked, returning your attention to your book. In reality, you already knew the answer was no - whenever it had to do with his research you could always tell whether it was from his face or tone or body language. Either he was greatly pleased, perhaps even excited when he made a breakthrough, or he was sour and annoyed if the result was the opposite.
“No, but this is far more interesting.” The smile on his face gave you a feeling he was up to something.
“More interesting? I doubt anything could be more interesting than your research, Dottore,” you replied, but his statement intrigued you.
“I have decided to take you somewhere.” That response made your eyes widen, perking up in surprise. The times you had been able to leave the lab were far in between due to your illness, so you treasured each time you were able to witness the glory of the chilly snowfall. This had to have something to do with your birthday, and you were already grateful. Even if your body didn’t want to cooperate, well… you’d just force it to (hopefully.)
“Where? Tell me where!” You swung your feet over the edge of your bed, thrilled, your pet once again whining at the loss of your warmth. “Wait, actually, let me guess!” You didn’t notice how pleased he was with your sudden return to life, a smile on your face as you thought about all the possibilities, longing to get away from this place.
“Hmm… are we going to visit that delicious bakery again? And scare the townsfolk once more?” You tapped your cheek as you reminisced at the mix of petrified and curious expressions from when you two were there. It was still amusing to think about the Harbinger in such a place with you.
“No, somewhere farther away.”
“The theater, then? Oh, is a new play coming out? Are we gonna watch it? But I don’t want to hear you complain about the plot the whole time again…” Dottore merely watched, entertained by your deep in thought expression.
“No, not that either.” 
“Then where? Tell me,” you gave up on guessing, trying not to kick your legs in excitement.
“We are going to Sumeru together.” His words caused the room to go silent afterward as you blinked at him, trying to process his words. Your lips parted and then closed as you repeated what he said back in your mind, while Dottore only stared at you as if what he said was the most normal thing ever.
“... Huh? I- what?” After a bit, you couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the sheer absurdity of that sentence. “Hey, I know a certain segment of yours likes to joke around, but not you so much. Now tell me, where are we really going?” But Dottore didn’t look phased at your denial, casually brushing his fingers against your numerous books on the shelves, only perking up once he recognized one on Khaenri’ahn machinery.
“We are going to Sumeru,” he repeated. “Once we’re there, we can go anywhere you like. We will leave a week from today, first thing in the morning, and get there the night before your birthday. And there is no need to pack, everything will be taken care of.” Once again, you were shocked into silence, your heart rate increasing to a pace that probably wasn’t the best for you.
“... You’re serious. You’re actually serious,” you spoke in disbelief, words coming out in a half-whisper. You stumbled to your feet until you were pressed against him, your hands gripping his shirt as you beckoned him for answers. “But why? I mean- how? I thought I couldn’t- we couldn’t because of all of those things and- well, are you sure? I… I don’t want to bother you or your work or cause any unnecessary problems or-” Your flustered self stopped talking when a large hand rested on top of your head.
“Am I not allowed to spoil my spouse?”
“S-Spoil… well…” The words felt so foreign coming from his lips - he could be very direct with his verbal affection if he was in the mood, but this… was more than what you had expected. Although you could feel your face heating up, you still couldn’t help but feel you were putting an extra burden on him, and your expression made it easy for him to guess so. Dottore’s hand moved to stroke your cheek instead, forcing you to look up at him.
“If you’re still not convinced… then think of it as repayment, if that suits you. You’ve always satisfied my needs, I am merely satisfying yours as well. Or perhaps… think of it as me taking a vacation. You’ve always asked me to take one, no?” His voice managed to quell your worries a bit as you nodded, reaching to your cheek to squeeze his hand. 
You still had a lot of questions - if you could even handle the whole trip with your illness - but you were sure he had already come up with all the solutions to all the problems in advance. As for how he managed to get time off… perhaps working as a Harbinger without taking any sort of break for centuries ended up having its usefulness in the end… You could just imagine the expression on Pierro’s face.
“Thank you… thank you! I love you!” You couldn’t help but hug him as tightly as you could, now knowing that you were truly leaving this place to not just anywhere but your homeland, the place you missed so much. It really did sound too good to be true… Dottore only chuckled at your reaction, having expected this from the moment he planned the whole trip. He held you back, smoothing your hair until you pulled away again, suddenly deep in thought once again.
“Oh Zandik, I need to make a list! There are so much things I need to do and see… how will I have time for them all? And I need to get a nice outfit ready… gotta get new filters for my Kamera too… I have to take a lot of pictures… And souvenirs for all the segments! And Bina and Panta and Childe-” In a flash, you were suddenly digging through your room in order to prepare for the things you just mentioned, as well as whatever was running through that mind of you. The abomination of a creature had waddled his way over to you, discontent that his cuddles were over, but still interested in your activities. 
Dottore only watched in amusement, simply glad to see you smiling again in a way that was wholly you, before he left you to attend to his own business.
To say you were restless was an understatement. You think that Dottore shouldn’t have told you about the trip this early because now you were constantly dreaming about what you’d do in Sumeru. It wasn’t only about Sumeru either, this was a long-awaited opportunity to spend genuine time with your husband. Although you hadn’t been feeling up to much lately, the whole situation made your spirits rise. 
But soon enough, the journey was underway. However, a small problem was that you had not been on a boat in hundreds of years. It was admittedly daunting at first - but wow, had the design of boats changed a lot over the centuries… you could have never thought a boat could be so fancy. Of course, Dottore was keeping his eye on you the whole time, making sure you could handle the change in environment.
“Staying out here too long won’t be good for you,” the sudden voice to the side of you made you jump a bit, before you quickly relaxed, realizing it was just Dottore. You had been just standing here every day for a while.
“The breeze is nicer than I’d thought it would be. And the sea… it’s very pretty.” You smiled, looking back at the view. Even though only boring water surrounded you two for miles, it was still a fascinating sight. You had already taken a lot of pictures, but they couldn’t compare to the real thing. “I wish to continue to look at it,” you added because you already knew he’d try to pull you away and into the warmth of the cabin. He was silent at your response, and you thought you’d won him over when suddenly something heavy slipped around you.
His coat, which was much larger than you, pooled on the floor of the deck. It really wasn’t necessary, considering you were already wearing your own, but who were you to decline his kind offer?
“Don’t stay too long,” was his only warning, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you stepped closer to him, squeezing his hand when you suddenly remembered something important.
“Hey… speaking of, are you still motion sick, Zandik? Will you be okay?”
“I never had such a thing,” he clicked his tongue in annoyance, trying not to remember certain… events at the Akademiya that you still made fun of to this day.
The Fatui agents pretended not to hear your cackles and their Harbinger’s disgruntled responses the whole trip.
You had refused to go to sleep for hours now. Why? Because you would reach the docks of Sumeru by tonight, and you would not miss the moment for anything, even though your body was loudly protesting to get some rest. Surprisingly, Dottore didn’t object too much. Obviously, he’d expected this. You were grateful that he was being lenient for once. Anxiously, you continued to wait with bated breath, tapping the edge of the boat.
And then Port Ormos came into view. 
You were still quite a distance away but… you thought it was beautiful. There were boats that were even more large and luxurious, and you could hear the hustle and bustle of people still filling the port even though the moon had begun to settle in. But the lights around the port glowed magnificently, so familiar to what you remembered all those years ago. Oh, but the layout was certainly different… it was the same and yet it was not, change was evident but there were things that still reminded you of the past. Of… better times.
“Dottore, do you-” As you turned around to look for him, you found that he was already next to you, watching the port come into view as well. You immediately hooked your arm around his, pulling him closer as you practically jumped up and down in excitement. 
“Thank you again, Dottore. I am truly so happy…” You nuzzled your face into his arm, hoping he could feel how thankful you were. He stroked your hair with his free hand in response. 
“Just don’t stray too far tonight. You can do that tomorrow.”
When you finally got off the boat and set foot on not just any land but in Sumeru, you just wanted to go everywhere. You wanted to see everything, the new places and the old - most importantly, the ones you shared with Zandik. But you paid mind to his request and stayed in one place (mostly), instead pacing around in awe while he handled business with the agents. Besides, you didn’t want to draw too much attention to yourself anyway, not with all these people here.
The house you were staying at was a distance away from the city, not too far but it also gave you two a sense of peacefulness and quiet away from all the noise. It was perfect and you loved it, as it somewhat reminded you of living in the dorms with Zandik, although the architecture had changed since then. But you were still a bit… unsatisfied.
“Are you sure we can’t just stay up and do something…?” You asked drowsily, fighting off the very obvious sleepiness in your voice, while Dottore pulled the blankets over you. Although you were energetic a few moments ago from the thrill of it all, tiredness had quickly settled into your body after it was over. Still, it just felt a bit annoying to waste this precious time sleeping, and you looked at your husband with pleading eyes. He seemed to think about it, before answering you.
“If you can stay awake for ten more minutes, then we can,” Dottore indulged your request, knowing full well that you would be knocked out by then. But you seemed more than ready to take on this challenge.
“I… I can do that! Alright, talk to me, Zandik,” you urged him, hoping a conversation with him would help you fight the sleepiness.
“You said that you created a list for tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I did!” You tugged on his arm, pulling him closer as he was only sitting on the edge of the bed rather than lying next to you. Knowing him, he was probably going to try doing some work… somehow, despite being miles away from Snezhnaya. “I want to walk around the city first… oh, but we need to eat first. You know the good places, right? I know the segments have been here many times… they told you, right?” You continued to prattle on, forcing back your yawns.
“Naturally.”
“Good, good… we need to go into as many stores as possible. I have a lot of gifts to buy,” you rubbed your eyes to continue getting the sleepiness out of your system.
“You do, indeed.”
“Mhm. And a lot of… pictures,” you yawned, the fluffiness and softness of the pillows and sheets overtaking your senses. “We should visit the forest too. If only we could explore a ruin again…”
“We will, one day in the future.”
“Yeah… do you want to go anywhere, Zandik?” You had moved his hand that was held hostage to your cheek, enjoying the warmth.
“I already have plans for us to go somewhere later.” You forced your eyes open to blink at him in surprise.
“Really?” Despite being on the verge of slumber, that grabbed your attention very much.
“Of course.”
“...I am admittedly a bit concerned at how thoughtful you’re being, Zandik. Are you going to experiment on me when we get back?” You couldn’t help but tease him, however, it was still true that this was a bit strange coming from a person like Il Dottore. You were used to receiving his love in an… unconventional manner, that was just Dottore-like. It was hard to explain.
“Your lack of faith in me is rather heartbreaking, [Name],” he said in a similar, more sarcastic tone. “Perhaps I will run a few tests on you later.” You giggled in protest as he began to move his hand downward, tracing lines on your neck until he rested on your pulse, teasingly stroking the area. Your laughter had turned into yawns the more the seconds went by.
“So… how many minutes have passed?”
“Less than five.”
“Aww… well, I can keep going…” your voice dipped in volume the more you spoke, your grip on his arm becoming looser as you finally succumbed to sleep. He let himself feel you for a bit longer until he pulled away, moving your body into a comfortable position so you wouldn’t be sore, and then looked back to watch you. 
The rise and fall of your chest had always been something that brought him a sense of relief. It was the tangible sense of it that reassured him, always being the man who favored facts over fallacy. Your heartbeat along with the movement of your chest, and sometimes the small noises you made, were all things he checked for once you slipped off to the land of dreams. A doctor, a scholar, or a scientist could never be too careful.
A lover could not either.
Although waking up early wasn’t one of your favorite things, you did it anyway because this birthday wasn’t something you wanted to squander. The warm morning sun spilled into the room, a feeling that was never to be found in Snezhnaya. Rubbing your eyes, you realized Dottore was again at the side of the bed getting ready, just as he was last night. Your rustling movements alerted him to your consciousness. 
“Finally up, are you?” Dottore was always up early, well, it was more like he never went to sleep in the first place. You yawned in response before turning over to face him better, admiring his bare chest through his half-buttoned shirt, but more importantly, his lovely face that was not yet covered by that mask of his.
“Mhm,” you hardly mustered a response before smiling, continuing to nuzzle into the pillows, admiring your husband who always managed to look so good to you, especially when all the finer details were highlighted by all the light coming in. It was surely a sight to see as well, watching him put on that complicated outfit…
“Are you going to continue staring, or are you going to start getting ready?” His tone was more teasing for your wandering eyes rather than displeased. 
“So mean,” you giggled, finally sitting up and stretching before wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chest against his back. “I’m just glad the first thing I saw today was your handsome face.” He had no response as you kissed his neck, leaving soft kisses downward as his hair tickled your cheek.
“Here. Now carry me,” you pulled away and spread your arms out, patiently waiting as he turned back to look at you with narrowed eyes. “What? It’s my birthday, you should listen to my requests.” He paused to examine your bright smile and hopeful grin before he acquiesced.
“As you wish,” he replied, then wrapped a single arm around your side and hoisted you up rather inelegantly as you awkwardly dangled above the floor.
“H-Hey! Be gentle!” You squealed at the rough treatment before it turned to giggles, as you then got ready for the outing with your husband’s help.
The streets of Sumeru were everything you knew yet nothing at the same time. So many people going about their lives, Akademiya students walking about as well, mumbling about their research and exams and everything that came with being a scholar. Walking up the tree-woven bridges and staring from above, the view simply too beautiful for words to describe.
But…
All of the stores and buildings you once knew were gone, replaced with new ones. You knew that after so long nothing you’d remember would still be there, but deep down you hoped for something concrete to remind you of the past, if only to ease your heart for everything you missed out on. The only thing that remained the same was the Akademiya, though it certainly looked upgraded. Speaking of the Akademiya… if only you could set foot there again with him… pretending to be a student in the House of Daena like once before… but those days were long gone.
“You couldn’t possibly have thought the same things from centuries ago would still be here,” he sighed as you buried your face into his shoulder with disappointment.
“Well, you’re right but, I don’t know… there might have been a long-running family business or something,” you mumbled, appreciating his warmth and scent. At least you still had him after all the years.
“There is no need to fret. There are many things here you’d like.” Dottore attempted to comfort you, which wasn’t a lie. He knew the kind of things you were interested in. After a few moments, you shifted to look at him, nipping at his shirt before pulling away and grabbing his hand resolutely.
“Hmph, I know that. Now come, we need to see if this Puspa Café can compete with the one we used to study at,” you tugged on his arm, and he grinned, delighting in your whimsicality. 
By the end of the evening, you were sure you knew the face of every vendor there was in the city. Practically everywhere had been explored by you (and Dottore in tow, who was dragged along.)
Gifts had already been acquired - your favorite being an Aranara toy for Zandy. You considered the cookbooks as a shared gift, seeing as you’d make the food for everyone. It was always quite hard to pick something out for them, this was the many versions of Il Dottore after all… Still, it was a good thing you had agents to carry the items back. Poor things.
You also made sure to get your fill of delicious Sumerian food as well. Sure, certain things could be imported, and there were chefs in the Fatui, but it would never taste quite as good as it did here. And oh, the pictures. There were a lot of pictures. Nothing was off the table - the scenery, the animals… Dottore watched in silence, tapping his finger as you even took pictures of the food. And of course, you posed next to many things but especially the kitty cats.
“There can never be enough photos of me on your desk, Zandik. And I need to share them with all the other segments too! Now keep taking them,” you demanded, your poor Harbinger husband feeling more like your temporary maid as he fulfilled the most ludicrous requests for you, only for today of course.
“Come, come, let me see them now!” You ran back to him, eager to see the (hopefully) pretty photos. As you began to shuffle through the pictures, your smile gradually dropped while you could feel the smugness radiating from Dottore.
“…You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you, Zandik?” You looked up at him, completely unamused… because all of the photos he had taken just now were perfectly imperfect - the wind had messed with your hair or outfit, someone interrupted, you were being harassed by a bug…
“I fulfilled your request, did I not? I merely took the pictures as you asked.” You narrowed your eyes at him before pressing your finger into his chest.
“Listen here you, normally I find it adorable when you’re being cheeky and annoying,” you paused to stab him again with your finger, “but I will not tolerate it today of all days. I know we both remember the last time I gave you the treatment. Now be a good little husband and actually take good photos.”
“You’re rather feisty today, aren’t you dear?”
By now, the sun would soon begin to set, signaling the day would be coming to a close. The sky would slowly change into a brilliant hue, the perfect thing to gaze upon after a lovely day. You were… content, despite all the worries and less-than-nice feelings that sometimes rose to the surface, which you desperately beat back down for you didn’t want to think about that now.
But you knew the day wasn’t over yet. The whole time, Dottore’s words lingered in your mind - the promise of taking you somewhere. You wondered where it was. The best you could guess was the giant Ruin Guard you two used to visit back when you two were students… perhaps he wanted to see it again. You would be interested in knowing if that note he left in there survived for so long… 
“So, would you say it’s time for you to reveal your secret plan, Zandik? It’s been on my mind all day, you know.” You tapped the railing as you watched the clouds float in the sky, trying to find any shapes that looked familiar. Dottore watched from behind you, his eyes more focused on your pretty frame.
“I was waiting for you to finish this little adventure of yours. You’ve been so busy, how could I possibly interject?” Your husband moved to stand next to you, the black fluff of his outfit tickling your shoulder.
“And I thank you for your very much appreciated patience. I know you’d rather be tinkering with something than following me around,” you chuckled, relishing in the closeness of his body.
“Nonsense. Even I value the time I have to admire your many expressions. It brings much amusement, especially the idiotic ones,” he hummed as he took his hand in yours, tugging you forward as you ignored the little tease.
“So… where are we going exactly?” You squeezed his hand as you followed Dottore, simply trusting him. You had always loved Dottore’s hands. They were big and fit perfectly in your own, reassuring you whenever he ran them over your body. It was the same hands that took so much from others… but always gave to you.
“You’ll see.”
“Can I at least have a hint? Or what we’re going to do there?”
“You’ll see,” he repeated while you huffed in disappointment, but then he paused, seemingly wanting to say something more. “It is a place you showed me.” You raised your eyebrows but didn’t pry anymore. 
Soon the path dwindled, the noise from the city fading as two you got further and further away, and you instead decided to appreciate the atmosphere of the walk. However, your legs had gotten very tired from all the walking earlier, even though you took numerous breaks in the city, and you were struggling to keep up the pace now. But you were too shy to tell him about the problem.
It was a good thing your husband happened to be an observant doctor.
Dottore’s pace lessened so you could catch your breath, and then he stopped completely to sweep you off your feet, something your body was far too grateful for. Your sigh of relief was also quite audible, much to your displeasure.
“The path ahead is dangerous. It is better if you don’t walk,” he said simply, sparing you the embarrassment. You whispered a quiet thank you as he carried your body bridal style with complete ease, your head nuzzled into his shoulder while your fingers played with his shirt and accessories. (You always wondered how he wore all those hanging things… when you tried putting all of them on before, your back hurt… really bad.)
He was right - the path was steep and rocky, hard for the average person to walk. There were some monsters, but he didn’t even need to draw his blade to kill them of course. Even though you were more interested in cuddling into his chest, the journey seemed familiar… very familiar in fact, and you suddenly thought hard about where you could be going. It had to be some place during the Akademiya time… 
You blinked again at the scenery and then you saw the past again. 
Ah, how could you forget? The time you dragged the unwilling scholar from his dorm, all because you wanted to show him a special place (and get him out of that stuffy room for once, all he wanted to go to was to class, the dorm, or to some ruin for investigation.) You helped him through the whole hike, defeating the enemies easily as he panted behind you. You only ended up going there once with him due to all the hassle it took, but it was so worth it because the view was-
Absolutely breathtaking, you thought, as you set sight on the place after over four hundred years. To be exact, it was just a very large flower field filled with dainty Sumeru Roses, but it was just so pretty, along with a clear, unfiltered view of the pure sky. The smell was always so pleasant too, the perfect place to relax. The last time here, you forced him to lay back and just relax (which he was not a fan of, he bought his books anyway.)
Dottore had set you down carefully, making sure your feet weren’t too wobbly, so you could take a few steps into the field.
“It’s just as beautiful as I remember,” you sighed happily. “I… I can’t believe you actually remember this place,” you got a bit flushed at how he remembered this, especially when you loved it so. Your eyes roamed about, trying to take in every detail when you noticed there was something spread out a bit in the distance. You took a few more steps while Dottore followed closely behind, still silent. Soon, you were in front of a soft blanket, along with a picnic basket, the delicious aroma wafting out.
“This is…” The words didn’t quite make it out of your mouth as you kept looking back and forth between the picnic and your husband. Meanwhile, Dottore didn’t seem phased in the slightest as he ushered you to the ground. A few containers were emptied onto the blanket, packaged just the way you used to when you were a student. Did he copy you? Not to mention…
“These are the same things I made for you for our last picnic…” Obviously, he couldn’t have cooked these himself or he’d have blown up someone’s kitchen, but his memory was quite exceptional. You always specifically made these dishes because they were loved by both of you.
“Eat before it gets cold. Though… the flavor lacks in comparison to what you make,” he seemed slightly disappointed by the quality as he bit into the samosa. Perhaps this was why he barely ate anything all day. You, on the other hand, were still… flabbergasted, your jaw moving to speak and then freezing up. You furrowed your eyebrows before you moved much closer, gripping his shirt and yanking on it.
“…Who are you, and what have you done with Dottore?”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m asking who you are and what have you done with the real Dottore!” You exclaimed as you pulled him back and forth while he looked at you blankly, surprisingly more with confusion than amusement.
“Alright, how many times have you apologized to me in your numerous centuries of life?”
“Three times.”
“How long did you kick me out of the dorm when-”
“Four days, thirteen hours, and fourty-seven minutes.”
“Okay… how many pens did you end up breaking on the expedition when we got trapped in that one ruin in the desert?”
“Nine.” You blinked at him carefully before scooting back, satisfied with your little interrogation.
“…So- so, you’re the real thing, huh? Hmph, I- well, it is about time you did something like this. I always had to organize all the picnic dates back then you know,” you brushed it off, trying to not show how touched you were by this, your heart stuttering badly. It was so simple, but all so meaningful. It showed that Dottore paid attention to you, only to someone as ordinary and weak as you, nothing escaping his watchful eye. Quickly, you tried to shake off the sudden emotion bubbling in your chest as you continued to defend yourself.
“You can’t blame me for this, by the way. Doing all this is awful strange for you,” you stated. The way he was acting was almost a bit perturbing. You never would have thought him to care so much. 
“I only copied exactly what you did. Hardly any effort was required on my part,” he always said such things so casually, as if it was meaningless (which could be good or bad, depending on the situation.) But things like these always made your heart race, made you think that at least you were special to him. You decided not to continue the topic.
You plopped your head onto his lap, beginning to reach for something to munch on when he stopped you.
“Don’t eat lying down. It’s bad for your health.”
“Aww, but you're so nice and cozy down here.”
The time flew by quickly after that, words swept away by the gentle breeze. After a bit of prodding you were able to get him to start rambling about that one experiment that was giving him a headache, an update that you were interested in but more so listening to his voice. You loved when he did this - not many people know how much of a talker he could be. 
In the meantime, you also idled by weaving some flowers together. You had done this last time too - the blush on his cheeks gave you a good laugh. Though your hands trembled from how much precision the braiding of the stems took, you continued on slowly anyway. 
“There we go,” you let out a sigh of relief as the stems were finally connected into a crown, even though it definitely wasn’t your best work. You glanced at Dottore, who was still ranting on (about the banker this time), and then placed it on him, which he momentarily paused at the sensation, fingers reaching up to brush against the flowers.
“Hmm… it’s a bit lopsided, but it suits you, cutie,” you smiled at the work of art you created - your husband adorned with Sumeru Roses, to be exact. He rubbed his fingers between the soft petals before placing the crown on your head instead.
“It suits your features far more.” Heat rose to your cheeks as you shook your head.
“Such a smooth talker. I feel as though our places have been swapped,” you exhaled softly, remembering how you were the one always blatantly flirting with him in the Akademiya. “Ah, wait, I still have one more request!” There was one thing you wanted to do for the whole day.
Your trusty Kamera was released again as you looked at him with pleading eyes, the device aimed toward him. Dottore let out a great sigh. As much as he enjoyed sharing new mechanical tools with you, you could get… really into them. Especially because he kept tweaking them to make them better for you. Though he supposed he shouldn’t blame you too much… as long as it kept you satisfied. 
“I believe you’ve taken plenty.”
“Well, yes, I have… but none of you, beloved!”
Even though you had taken a lot of pictures, none of them included Dottore unfortunately. He wasn’t very fond of the idea of you having such… soft photos of him in possession. He knew exactly the kind of person you were, and what you could do with them, more specifically… who you could show them to. 
“Come on…” You cozied up to him, nuzzling yourself against your lover. “My scrapbook longs for more pictures of my one and only dear husband. Just one picture. One is all I ask! I’ll even take one of only your back profile if-”
“Do what you will, but make it quick,” he gave in begrudgingly, much to your pleasure. You gave him a good smooch on his cheek for that as you scooted back, getting into a better position to angle your Kamera. 
“Could I get a smile? A pose? Your eyes?”
“Don’t push your luck too much, [Name].” You grinned cheekily at his response.
The audible click of the Kamera sounded, and then the photo printed out. In a few moments, his face appeared on it, and you sighed in contentment. He was so handsome, and the background was perfect too.
“Satisfied?” He questioned, to which you nodded. “Now give it here.” You passed him the photo and he looked at it briefly, before motioning for the device in your hand. You were a bit confused as to why he wanted your Kamera but you gave it to him anyway.
“What? Are you confiscating it now?” You giggled. He fiddled with it, fingers gliding over the buttons as you watched curiously, and then all of a sudden it was pointed at you, the snapping sound catching you way off guard. He similarly copied your previous motions, looking rather pleased at your scattered self that he managed to capture.
“Ah- hey! At least let me fix myself first!” You fruitlessly lunged at Dottore to try and take back that unflattering picture of yourself, but of course, he was much stronger and faster than you.
“This one is for my personal use. I see no problem, you do the same thing, do you not?” He smiled smugly, as you gave up rather quickly, grumbling about how cruel he was.
So much time had ended up passing that nighttime was in full swing, the only thing illuminating the sky was the brilliant stars that shined above. Your birthday was drawing to a close. Dottore had already quietly whispered the words to you, as he always did.
You were happy. Happy to have spent this time away from that lab, away from seeing snow for miles and miles. It really did feel refreshing. And of course, you were happy to spend time with the one you valued above all. The feeling had left you feeling lighter than you had in a while, and you were busy snuggling up to Dottore while you gazed at the stars.
But then he spoke.
“[Name].”
“Yes?” 
“How have you been as of late?”
“Hmm? Well, I’m fine. You know, same old, same old.” You lazily shrugged your shoulders, though you were a bit caught off guard by the question. He seemed to ponder your answer, fingers drumming against you in a contemplating manner. He wondered if he should press you - you had been far more lively today than you were lately, and he was not sure if it would be wise to leave a sour taste in your mouth.
“And what about you? How have you been, Zandik? Still sitting at a desk for twenty-four hours straight?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Usually, you’re more than aware of my habits, considering you always barge in to change it.” You opened your mouth to respond, but your throat had gone dry because you knew what he was suggesting. You hadn’t really been visiting him or the segments lately.
“What? Do you miss me that easily?” You forced a smile onto your face, hoping to just play off the situation.
“And what if I said I do?” Whatever words you had prepared had disappeared and gotten stuck in your throat. He used to be so horrible with lovey-dovey words, and yet he managed to pull them out so casually sometimes. You breathed in.
“I… you see…” It was embarrassing really, how easy it was for him to break down the walls you hardened so desperately. Or maybe you were just weak. You had been dismissing any hint of pity from all the segments and him for so long, but it seemed like it was all catching up to you now. The light feeling you just had was beginning to quickly revert back to the heaviness that weighed on your heart.
“It’s nothing really,” you still try to deflect the question. You try to roll over too, just so he doesn’t have to see your face contort with all your stupid feelings, but his grip is far too strong for you to ever break free. 
“Your face is very easy to read, darling. Why do you not simply tell me what ails you?” You already saw this coming. You two have done this so many times, and each time you never fail to feel like a burden.
“…Because it’s the same conversation every time, Zandik. I don’t know how many times I can continue to tell you everything… my body, my health… it’s always the same thing.” 
You cannot help but think that surely he would prefer a more… active partner, one who could follow him around and be at his beck and call, assisting him with his intriguing research and experiments, one who could easily match his level, elevating his progress more and more. Not… you who struggled with tasks that should be as simple as breathing, and was more like a thorn in his side than anything else. 
You could list so many traits and things about him that could effortlessly show how he far exceeded the average person, even the Gods, how could you ever hope to live up to him? To a person who he deserved? You recall every time you ended up sobbing your heart out to him about these foolish matters, and yet every time he would listen, further ruining his research and schedule and- and, everything.
“I see,” he responds, his grip on you growing tighter, noticing your unleveled breathing. It is silent for a few moments, and you know he’s thinking of what to say, to ease your worries. It’s probably nothing you haven’t heard already though, so before he could waste his time, you interrupt him.
“Zandik. It’s my birthday. Let’s not talk about such things,” your voice is quiet and on the verge of being uncontrollably shaky. You ignore the prick of tears at the corner of your eyes and opt for hugging your husband instead. You hope that he takes pity on you and decides to let it go.
Dottore strokes your head for a few moments before pulling you back and taking off his mask, your eyes trembling as you struggle to look at him. 
“Look at me,” he says, as he thumbs your chin, preferring for you to listen instead of him forcing you like he usually does. You let out a soft sigh and eventually comply, only because you know that he always gets what he asks for when he’s like this. When you do look at him, his face doesn’t have a hint of softness, instead, it’s serious and solemn as he stares at you resolutely.
The look he gives you says that he’ll make sure you’re here for the next birthday, and the one after that, and all the ones decades and centuries from now, no matter what sins may stain his hands. You can only admire it for a few moments before you lean your head down. Even though he claimed not to be good at comfort and whatnot, he always made you happy… especially when it mattered.
“I love you, Zandik. So much. I don’t know what I’d do without you…” your words come out quieter than you want them to, but you got the message out anyway. Zandik doesn’t respond, but when he tilts your chin to kiss you, you know that he feels the same. You let him push you down on the blanket again, continuing to kiss you as he held your body firmly. You don’t know how much time passes, but the world is even darker now.
“It’s getting late,” Dottore commented, rubbing circles on your palm. You only weakly squeeze back in response. “Perhaps we should get back now.”
“Aren’t we leaving for Snezhnaya first thing tomorrow morning?” Dottore nodded in response to your question. “Then let me treasure this moment for a bit longer. Who knows when we’ll be able to do this again?” You looked away from him to the sky that was now dark, the stars glimmering above the two of you. Dottore’s gaze remained on you until he too looked away to share the same view as you.
“Very well,” he gave into your request and a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, as you moved your hand to intertwine with his own more firmly. The two of you said nothing as you continued to share the moment with each other, until the very end.
Il Dottore wasn’t a good man. Many people froze in fear at the mere mention of his name, their bodies cold at the thought of what he had done, and what he could do. He wasn’t the best lover either. You two didn’t always get along, there were obviously times he upset and frustrated you. Any normal person could probably think of a hundred reasons as to why you shouldn’t stay with Dottore.
But you knew that whatever remained of Zandik’s heart loved you, and that was all that mattered.
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carlsangel · 6 months ago
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MY PARENTS’ RINGS
carl grimes x fem!reader
(you and carl have been “married” since childhood.)
tags: flufffff, slight angst, mentions of death.
masterlist here!
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You’ve known Carl since you were born. Your moms were bestfriends from high school who’d miraculously gotten pregnant around the same time which, naturally, made you best friends as well. You can’t remember your guys’ first play date, you’d been having sleepovers with him every weekend as well.
Around kindergarten, there was an activity in class where you guys could make jewelry. Carl at the time was completely in love with you, although then you weren’t particularly interested in boys and were more interested in exploring and adventures, you needed someone to go on adventures with.
So, when he’d walked up to you on the playground with the ring he made very poorly, your five year old brain knew exactly where it was going. He proposed to you right there in the pokey wood chips under the slide which by the way was covered in cobwebs. How romantic. You thought that if he’d gone on many adventures with you previously, if he was your husband he’d be forced to be your adventure partner. So you said yes. On the condition he’d be by your side for all your escapades. “Anything for you angel.” He responded.
He held you to it, too. He’d continue to call you his wife and angel, a nickname that’d stick for the rest of your childhood. Everyone knew how much he’d loved you and how much he protected you from anything that could possibly harm you in any way. There was a spider in your room? He’d kill it. Someone was bothering you? He’d help you work it out. You got in an argument with your parents? He was close enough with them to argue with them for you. You ended up helping him through the death of his own father who was also someone you’d looked up to for a long time.
Then, the apocalypse started. You were at Carl’s house with Lori when Shane had arrived to round everyone up. They’d return back to your house to rally up your parents but when Shane went inside to get them, you heard his gun go off a couple times.
He walked out that house alone with a big frown on his face.
So you sobbed the whole time and Carl cuddled your side, holding your hand and occasionally shed some tears. He helped you process it, granted you both were ten but he knew what it was like to lose a parent. When Rick came back, he apologized oddly enough. “Angel…I’m sorry my dad came back.” He told you as you hid in the blanket on your cot that was set up in the Grimes’ tent. You flipped over on your side to look at him. “Why did yours get to come back and not mine?”
Your guys’ “marriage” hit a rough patch to say the least. At some point, Carl walked up to Rick with the dilemma. “My wife is mad at me…how do you make mom feel better?” He asked. Rick informed Lori on the situation and she helped you understand. So from there you dropped your little grudge and realized that you loved Carl back. It only took you maybe five years and yeah you were quite young to know you loved him the way you did, but he was the only person in your life who’d stay consistent; even with the world dying.
A good amount of time had passed, when Shane died the first thing you wanted to do was take anything he possibly had on him. So, you took his 22 necklace and his jacket. Handling his dead body that young wasn’t ideal but you needed to remember him. You shoved his necklace in your pockets and threw his jacket on before escaping from the walkers flooding into the farm.
Upon finding safety, you pull out Shane’s necklace to discover he’d kept your parents rings on his necklace. You didn’t say anything about it, you hid them for the right time. He’d notice them later but he kept quiet about it.
You’d gone through the prison, then Terminus. It felt like Carl had never stopped touching you throughout everything. He was holding your hand or maybe even had his hand gripping your thigh. He’d reassure you by holding you or kissing your cheek repeatedly. He made sure you were well fed while you and the group were on the road after losing Beth. “Here, Angel, take this.” He handed you half of his granola bar.
“Angel, need some water to wash that down?” Abraham nudged a water bottle your way, Carl looked at him funny which caught a couple people’s attentions. Abraham looked around. “What?” He questioned. No one really responded but Tara spoke up, clearing her throat awkwardly before speaking. “I’ve uh…I’ve learnt that ‘Angel’ is just a Carl thing.” She explains. Abraham processes and Rick sort of laughs. “Yeah I’ve known her since she’s was born…he won’t even let me call her that either.” He looks to Carl with a teasing smile, prompting the others to sort of smirk and giggle themselves. “Well my apologies.”
Carl gives Abraham a forgiving nod.
Getting to Alexandria was like a breath of fresh air. You and Carl were able to be somewhat of a normal teenage couple who could go on dates and make out in places they shouldn’t. He helped ease your nerves with the new environment, despite his own considering he didn’t know how real Alexandria really was.
He’d fallen more and more in love with you. At some point he’d brought up your kindergarten marriage.
“Do you remember when you said yes when I proposed to you in kindergarten?” He smiled at you as you leaned your head on his shoulder. The two of you were stargazing on a bench by Alexandria’s pond. “Yeah you’ve never let me forget it.” You respond with a small giggle. He pulled back to look at you. “Well I was thinking…with the way the world is and everything.” He chuckles nervously, looking down at your hands which were tightly gripping each other’s, “Maybe we can really be married.”
He stared at you, anticipating your answer. “Well, I dunno what you mean, we’ve been married this whole time.” You say sort of jokingly, causing him to smile, “I think you just mean official rings. I mean we’ve held the label this whole time. Not to mention you’ve stuck to your vows.” You remind him of how he’d promised to stick with you throughout everything. He nods for a moment, his eyes lingering on your face as he admires how beautiful you are in the light of the pretty moon. “Official rings would be nice.”
Without another word, you pulled your hand away, causing Carl’s expression to drop a tad as you dig into your pocket. Your hand comes back out of your jeans in a fist and you stick your hand out, gesturing for him to put his own out. He places his hand out flat and you drop two rings, the metals knocking into each other with a small clink as he looks into your eyes. “Wait really? Aren’t these…” His voice trails off and he looks at you intently.
“My parents’ rings.”
There’s a moment of silence before you take your dad’s ring from his palm and take his left hand, slipping it gently onto his ring finger. It fit perfectly, almost like it was fitted to him. He looks at it for what felt like ages before taking your mother’s ring in his hand. He gently held your left hand, sliding it on to your ring finger. The two of you put your hands between your bodies and just stare.
He tilts his head back up to look at you and before you could fully look at him he kissed you, gently holding the side of your face while he did so.
It was one of the thousands of kisses he’d given you, but this one was different.
Maybe you could go on honeymoon.
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a/n: so anon actually wanted this full of fluff but i couldn’t help myself with some parts of angst LMAOOO sorry anon i hope u still like it. i actually think this is the cutest fucking thing i’ve written in a long ass time I LOVEEE IT SM!!! also for those who’ve been waiting for let me make it up to you part two THAT SHITS BEEN OUT idk not as many ppl saw it and there’s sm smut in that shit >_< anyway thank u sm for this cute ass request it was so fun to write and it got me out of my writing funk :)))
tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh
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ace-and-the-rpg-horrors · 5 months ago
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it is not really a shock that this fandom has a bit of a misogyny problem, but i think a specific one is how the boys are often somewhat babied and given all sorts of pity for every single tiny thing they go through, while the girls with similar issues are often ignored entirely. there are many examples of this, but right now, i am going to talk at length about the Tenmas and the Shinonomes in particular, as them being pairs of siblings allows very direct comparison.
firstly, the one that irks me most: Tsukasa Tenma, and how a ridiculous number of his fans will make absolutely everything about him. including Saki's disability. i do think it's right to acknowledge the impact on him as well- but it gets overdramatic really quickly. i'm sorry to be harsh, but Saki did not spend her childhood in and out of hospitals, believing that she was dying, just for half the fandom to completely brush over her trauma and be like "oh... poor, lonely Tsukasa..."
i rather hate this, because not only does it feel quite ableist to skim over the one directly suffering from the condition in order to massively favour someone who happens to feel a bit of the knock-on effect, but it's also used to unreasonably villainise the Tenma parents. people will go on about how "neglected" Tsukasa was... very well, how exactly would you have handled the situation? they did their absolute best. it was a highly unfortunate situation for everyone involved, and it's unfair to deem Mrs and Mr Tenma as "bad parents" simply because they prioritised their dangerously ill daughter over their confident son who always assured them that he'd be alright. yes, they could have made better choices for Tsukasa, such as hiring a babysitter... but i think people tend to forget that Saki's illness flared up very suddenly and randomly. as the good parents the Tenmas are, they very likely couldn't think properly due to their panic for their daughter. it was instinct to drop everything and get her immediate help. and Tsukasa himself understands this, so it's an absolute wonder that the fandom doesn't. he was not ignored. he was phoned, updated on the situation, reassured that his sister was recovering... and praised by his parents for being such a wonderful brother.
also, with the situation of Saki's hospitalisation, i do feel like Tsukasa's own personality is sometimes not taken into account, ironic since it's him that everyone's interested in. because i would, in fact, be more critical of the Tenma parents, had Tsukasa been a more fragile child. if he had been the type who was easily scared, who could not handle being by himself, who would, in fact, have been traumatised from being left alone- i would say that the Tenma parents would have deserved the treatment they get from the fandom. but... that's not Tsukasa. it has been shown that Tsukasa was always a very bright, self-assured boy, positively brimming with confidence. even when little, he was creative and strong- and his parents knew this. they could have some peace of mind during a stressful time, knowing that their son could entertain himself with ease, such as how he was practising some acting just before his mother rang him. all of this is shown within the Dazzling Stage event which is, funnily enough, the very same event that the lovers of Tsukasa angst latch onto.
of course Tsukasa was heavily concerned about Saki. he is an incredibly caring person, why wouldn't he be? and yes, of course he missed her while she was in the hospital. no one is trying to deny that, nor minimise his suffering. the fandom does that to Saki. while acknowledging that Tsukasa was affected is good, in fact, it is very interesting to see the impact of disabilities beyond those directly affected... it's the fact that it is majorly Tsukasa's issues that are focused on that confuses me. it's disproportionate. i do wish we saw just as much sympathy and discussion about Saki herself, in addition to her brother. the psychological impact that her illness and consequential exclusion had on her, as well as the obvious physical aspect. because that is just as interesting, if not potentially more so, and i will be making a future post about it.
moving on from the Tenmas, i'd now like to talk about the Shinonome siblings, in a little less detail, considering i personally have not witnessed the unfairness of their treatment as much as that between the Tenmas. though, make no mistake, it still exists.
now, Ena is a character who i feel has a certain percentage of those who dislike her. and what are the general traits that people point out when asked why they aren't a fan? from what i've seen, it is her anger management issues, past violence, and a general "tsundere" type of personality that earns her this criticism. i'm not saying she does not have any of this. she absolutely does. she is flawed, as good, complex characters should be. though, everything she is despised for... who else regularly displays the exact same traits?
none other than her own brother, Akito. yet the dislike for him, while it is obviously around, does not seem quite as common as hers. a very short and hot temper? check. shows of violence? check. a sometimes harsh way of speaking? check. can sound aggressive and off-putting on occassion? check. Akito and Ena are incredibly similar when it comes to their more negative traits. i suppose it's not a surprise, considering that they were both brought up in the same, questionable environment. though, why does Ena seem to be hated so much more?
most will bring up the very infamous mention of how Ena and Akito's fights would get physical when they were younger. and how this makes Ena an "abuser" because supposedly, as she is the elder one, there was an imbalance in power... but was there really? it is incredibly controversial to say, but i do believe that the violence between them, particularly that which was committed by Ena, is quite exaggerated by fans. and here is where i think that Akito tends to be babied.
Ena was not significantly stronger than Akito. perhaps not ever physically stronger than him at all except when they were literal babies. there is only one year of difference between their ages. in the current day, it is no debate that Akito is one of the strongest characters, regularly going on runs, being able to sprint with Tsukasa on his back, while Ena is quite on the opposite end of the spectrum, preferring the indoors and such. what i am saying is that it is absurd how the fandom makes it seem like Akito was some utterly defenceless little toddler that was getting beaten up by his Big Bad Sister. realistically, he was fully capable of fighting back- and he does. it's hardly as if we see him cower before her. he has absolutely no issue retorting to her in a snarky manner. when people bring up the whole drama of Ena scratching him, they conveniently forget what he says directly afterwards- that he could dodge her attacks. not to mention, sibling fights getting physical and a little violent is incredibly common, take it from me- i am an oldest sister myself. if you call Ena an abuser, you are saying that you want half the older siblings in this world behind bars.
oh, and people will talk until they're blue in the face about how the "nasty" and "crazy" Ena scratched up her brother when they were younger- are we forgetting that Akito punched Toya in the literal main story? that left a massive bruise on his cheek. that isn't talked about nearly as much as some common sibling scrap.
if you can let similar behaviour slide from Akito... how come it is unacceptable from his older sister? who is, arguably, from what has been shown in the story so far... under the greater amount of stress from the tension within their family. it was her that was explicitly discouraged by their father. we haven't seen such conflict between Shinei and his son, have we? that's not to say that Akito's current personality isn't also explained, having grown up in that environment, but why is it that Ena receives so much less sympathy than him when she, understandably, lashes out?
Saki and Ena have both had it rough. in their own, very different, ways. yet, a staggering amount of pity is given, not to them, but to their respective brothers.
and i must, sadly, wonder... if the mere genders of these four characters happened to be swapped and all else remained as it is...
... would the perception of any of them be quite the same?
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mad-hunts · 7 months ago
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paradise. he doesn't think the name of the place could get anymore ironic, in all honesty. barton had personally never set foot in there; but it wasn't because he wanted to and was rejected from doing so. it was because he simply didn't have much interest in it, until one of gotham's new up-and-coming crime lords contacted him and said he'd pay him very handsomely if he was willing to make a trade with him: something he'd harvested from someone for more money than he would know what to do with and a favor. barton always did like those, as the kind with no strings attached could mean the difference between him getting out of a situation unscathed, and ending up on the side of a jail cell no one wanted to be on.
the air was misty with rain now. and normally, this wouldn't bother barton, but he was caught out here without an umbrella; the one he once had having departed along with his beloved daughter. though it was better off with her, of course, barton told himself. father's always put their kids first... don't they? whatever it was that triggered it, he wasn't sure, but he soon found himself going somewhere else mentally. what if matilda had gone in there and found herself in a similar situation as he did? oh, but what happened to him was never going to happen again. ( it could happen again. it could, and it'd be all his fault, just like it was before. ) a frown tugged at barton's lips without him even realizing it.
he didn't know what he was doing here, standing in the rain, thinking about someone who had passed away a long time ago. the hand by his side suddenly curled into a fist as he dug one of his nails into his skin. stop thinking about it, she is fine, you're just worrying over nothing. these were thoughts that seemed to have passed through his mind all at once and caused him to press the tip of his nail into his palm even further. a sharp sting, like you'd get after being cut, was what brought him back to reality and he discovered that — yup, he was now bleeding. ❝ merde... mon dieu, ça fait mal, * ❞ barton uttered something in his native tongue beneath his breath with a barely audible hiss as he looked at the puncture.
in order to alleviate some of the tension in the air, barton looked up at arthur and made an effort to smile more genuinely at him this time. it was cheeky, though, so it was a bit easier for him to do, ❝ don't ever keep your nails long. it's a nuisance. ❞ with a tilt of his head, he then closed his eyes in an attempt to appear charming, though who knows if it actually worked. joker didn't seem like the type of person that took things at face value. maybe he would have to be more aggressive to get away from him. actually... yes, it seems he definitely would by how the other got even closer to him rather than backing off.
something in barton's gaze turned steely whenever joker posed him with questions about the club, as if whatever patience he had to tolerate this situation was slowly dissipating. and then arthur was blocking his way which set off imaginary warning bells in his mind about what exactly his intentions could be here. barton was already distrustful of other people after all, but now that he was actively trying to prevent from going there, something almost seemed wrong. ❝ wow. uhh, what a generous offer, but i really don't want to impose. and i'm not actually planning on heading in there for myself, but for... ❞ oh, thank. freaking. god. barton could barely see matilda's silhouette around arthur but he could see just enough to know that she was heading out of the doors.
matilda was always great at reading a situation and it seemed like she almost immediately knew barton was in trouble, because before he knew it, his daughter was tackling him into a hug. though barton honestly didn't think it was any sort of ploy at first and was nearly thrown off balance by her newfound exuberance. for the first time during their entire conversation, barton let out a genuine albeit startled laugh, lightly patting his daughter's back all the while. ❝ o - kay. well, it's nice to see you too, matilda. what's this about though? ❞ oh, wait. he felt something drop in his jacket pocket from a hidden angle. so, she hugged him to sneakily put it in there? barton directed a purposely sheepish looking shrug to arthur then as if to say ' sorry, this is actually who i was going to head in there for, so i can't talk right now. '
it seemed like barton really didn't have anything to worry about when it came to his daughter. she was even more clever than he gave her credit for, in all honesty.
[ * translation: shit... god, that hurt. ]
That ‘somewhere’ appears to be Paradise. Gotham’s alleged ‘inventive, chaotic, high production spectacle’ has an obscenely long line to get in. A stocky reincarnation of Salvador Dali guards the door. Cover’s probably no less than $150 for undercooked, over-salted food, watered-down cocktails, and a parade of burlesque dancers who may not all have agreed to perform. Hopefuls wait in the rain without rain gear or umbrellas to cramp their style. Some are lucky enough to tuck under scaffolding and Sabarett cart umbrellas. Others are subject to misting rain.
Werewolf upends a hand to watch a few droplets splash on his palm, then dissolve. The few will become a film in no time. Does Dr. Mathis really think he’s cutting that line? Joker squints once his makeup begins to run and tucks the cigarette back in his mouth. What sliver of sidewalk remains transforms into a racetrack. Those wearing jackets pull them over their heads, hoods flip up, and all but Joker try to cover their hair or keep their heads low. Green tresses collect raindrops at his crown. Those beads then sweep down his loose ringlets and splash onto his teal commas and polyester jacket’s shoulders. 
“Look at his hands again,” Bruce instructs his older brother.
Joker obliges, though he keeps his torso angled. Sokol edges further behind him for the black wolf-dog’s own protection. While Joker forces himself to keep his stinging eyes open, the outlines of Barton’s nails invite The Batman’s suspicion.
“Arthur…” though his big brother can’t respond without looking strange, Bruce asks him anyway, “How many surgeons have you seen with nails like that?” Joker bats his eyes like some kind of Morse code for ‘none.’ “No board would allow it.”
Given that he can’t answer his little brother, Joker takes a drag off his cigarette and braves staring into the night sky to look for that misshapen rodent plastered on the clouds. The Square might be too polluted to spot it.
“I’m not up there, I’m here," Bruce reminds him, "Pay attention.”
Even the smile Dr. Mathis seems to dismiss Joker with feels wrong. He braves the misting rain to glide forward. His foot leaves no sound behind even after it lands. Sokol’s hefty paws, however, splash and fall with the weight of a grown man. Pressure against his hip reminds Joker that the Chief’s Special is one draw away.
Before his older brother thinks about calling their new doctor friend’s bluff, Bruce is quick to remind him, “I love you,” followed by, “Don’t let him go.”
Joker postures his temporarily teal eyes as if to ask, ‘Are you out of your fucking mind?’ though Thomas Wayne’s second son can’t see it beyond how perfect the camera’s focus suddenly becomes.
Bruce justifying the command with, “I don’t like him,” doesn’t help. Joker would fish his own cherry red iPhone from his pocket to text his response, but Luther several feet away might win too much time. “Change of plans. I want to see what he’s up to. Pretend you’re interested.”
Wide-eyed, Joker mirrors that paper-thin simper of Dr. Mathis’ with his own gaudy grin. Thalia’s end of his mouth could hook over his ear while Melpomene’s could curve under it. His crooked teeth remain at the forefront. Joker swallows his pounding heartbeat, braces like he’s about to take a punch, then shades his periphery with Sokol as the pair strides closer. 
“By ‘places’ do you mean Paradise...with that line...” Joker gestures toward the crowd that hasn’t budged since last he looked, then toward the mustached bouncer who thinks he’s guarding Heaven’s gate, “And that fucking cover?! People with tickets are getting sent home.”
Joker’s gait is more of a glide. He swings around Dr. Mathis as if on water, yet keeps his shoulders angled so the pale-eyed wolf-dog at his side remains shielded behind him. Now he’s likely blocking traffic, but Gotham is still to him. There’s a few halal and fruit juice carts he could dive behind if need-be.
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“Lucky for you…” Joker and the bouncer’s eyes lock, then he drifts around the doctor so his back is to the line and Paradise’s entrance is near him. “I know a guy. Unless…” he deigns to cringe, “Your heart’s set on someplace else…?” The gleam of Joker’s wedding band suggests he’s far from this Studio 54 knockoff’s target audience, yet already he’s getting looks from the bouncer to jump ahead of the line. “I don’t mind a plus one.” Sokol eyes the shoal passing them on the sidewalk. Rainfall almost makes his black fur appear grey. “I’m supposed to meet my wife in there anyway.”
#OOH yes i thought it might have been that but thank you for confirming that for me. i remember that arthur had that condition in-#the first joker movie but i didn't want to assume anything y'know? though it's good to know that it was that and ahh okay i understand. so-#most of the time whenever someone hears him laugh it is either due to factors outside of his control or he's throwing his voice? okay okay-#that's interesting as i honestly had no idea that PBA is caused by brain damage but i guess you learn something new every day. though now-#that i know it's like ' oh. well damn. the implications behind that are... well really kind of sad for lack of better words. ' ):#however it seems that you've really done your research on it and i admire that TBH. but ahh yeah and i feel like the fact that barton-#is naturally distrustful of pretty much EVERYONE probably didn't help in his handling of his laugh. buttt yeah barton is honestly kind of-#wack not gonna lie so if someone so much as looked at him wrong he'd probably think they were onto him 💀 NAHHH i kid but i am not-#joking about him being kind of wack. barton was really about to expose himself in front of joker and those lenses he's wearing when-#he's literally built a reputation for himself as at least a semi-good doctor and person though he really isn't ( well... he is kind of good#at being a doctor BUT not the second thing ) but ahh i got you i got you. that honestly makes sense because most people would-#probably think that it's just a 'trick of the light' or something like that. but barton is just... idk i feel like he wouldn't be able to-#shake the irritation in his eyes as not being creepy personally. but honestly it is so valid that he wouldn't want to touch them tbh bc-#barton literally has that dead-eyed look to him sometimes where you look into someone's eyes and it's like there is no emotion there. or no#life at all in fact so... yeah. he tends to uhhh kind of have this weird vibe about him in general NGL jsjsj but i just noticed that i type#one of my paragraphs in my previous reply here two times and i am SO sorry about that omg. i hope it wasn't too off putting or anything#tw: brief mention of self-harm.#tw: allusions to organ trafficking.
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taro-bae · 3 months ago
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AHH Your work on a figure skater reader was so beautiful and well-written! I went to watch a circus show recently, and the trapeze act was stunning, so could I request the same Twisted Wonderland in your figure skating post with a reader who is really good at trapeze acts, but doesn’t work at a circus? Thank you so much, and at the time of requesting this, your forehead kisses post just went up, and I would also like to say that it was so good too! Thank you again! 🫶
I absolutely love this request!
I'll add Floyd to this one, he's such a menace to society.
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TrapezeArtist!Reader x TWST
Summary: They find out reader is good at trapeze acts but isn't part of a troup.
Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto, Floyd Leech, Vil Schoenheit
Notes: gender neutral, set in readers room with ariel trapeze equipment, I adapted some scenarios to other ariel acts (Lyra for Vils), no warnings
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Riddle────
Housewarden Riddle was checking over Heartslabyul making sure everything is to standards and rules. After his duties he decided to see how you're doing. He makes his way to your dorm his heels clicking against the ground. When he arrives at your dorm bedroom he knocks on the door wondering if you're there right now. He hears sounds coming from inside the room and some light music playing in the background. He opens the door carefully, "y/n, I-", he cuts himself off when he sees you hanging on a longish bar that's supported by two ropes that are attached to the ceiling of your room.
He's speechless watching you perform a flexible hold while you're high off the floor. He's never seen anything like it before, he knew there are people who do such things but he's never seen it in person (take him to the circus). He watches you as you hold onto the bar with your knees, while your body is hanging off in an arch. You swiftly change your grip back to your arms and come down. He stays silent for a solid minute, he takes notice that the clothes you are wearing currently show alot of skin, obviously to help grip the bar and not slip but nevertheless.
"Are you sure that's safe?", he's concerned for your safety considering you are doing this in a normal room with noone to spot. You ensure him you are trained and know what you are doing, as well as the steady condition of your equipment. He glances over the bar and the other alternative equipment you have, it's clear you are well trained. "So are you part of a circus crew perhaps?" He asks out of curiosity. He is suprised to hear that your are not and you do this as a hobby. He can understand the fitness side of it to maintain good strength and health but why do something so risky just for a hobby.
He hears your explanation that you simply enjoy doing it and that you're confident in your abilities, also that it gives you a sense of thrill and adrenaline. He supports of your trapeze skills but can't help but worry over your safety.
"Could you explain how that...hold...works?" He wants to understand your interests better and is fascinated his eyes sparkling slightly like a kid in a candy store.
Take this boy to a circus he needs to experience some joy in his life!
Azul────
Azul enters your dorm room wanting to share some new deal offer ideas with you. He pauses when he sees you on the trapeze bars swinging to press yourself up into a static pose later. His reaction is confusion.
He is constantly impressed by the possibilities of the human body, the strength and flexitime you have to move your body in such ways let alone off the floor on a suspended bar. He stands at the door holding the handle watching you with his mouth agape trying to blabber out some form of a sentence. He's rather flustered seeing your flexibility and how you carry yourself with incredible control. "You're even more incredible than I gave you credit for" He stutters out.
Regaining his composure he interrogates you on your practice and training background. He is already scheming plans for you on how you can profit off this. He offers you an opportunity to perform at Mostro Lounge, "not only can you demonstrate your talent, but it will bring in more customers", he wants to show you off while also help advertise his totally not shady business too.
He is going on a rant about the perks and benefits this would bring while also complimenting your abilities his mouth running faster than his heart beat as he pushes his glasses up to his eyes. You sit on the bar listening to his ramble, weather you agree or not is up to you (do it, he wants to watch you do that everyday for the rest of his life)
Floyd
Two words - Good Luck
Floyd bursts through your door exclaiming a loud "shrimpyyyyy~", atleast he didn't kick your door open this time. You are mid way through a skill when he comes in slightly startling you you manage to keep yourself steady despite the small scare at the sudden intrusion. Floyd's grin only grows as his eyes widen seeing the bar and ropes set up. "Little shrimpy! You're a little monkey now, huh" he comes closer his tall stature meeting your eyeline.
He does not care if you're on a bar right now, he comes closer giving you a tight squeeze. "I missed you shrimpy~" He lifts you up hugging you very, very tightly, "Are you like a circus monkey~" he laughs as he teases you. He's interested when you tell him you don't belong to a circus group and just do this for yourself.
Before you can finish, his eyes look at the bar mischievously "I wanna try!" He moves you out of the way gripping onto the bar swinging around trying to climb it. "This is fun!" He's shining on it like a child while you're trying to warn him to get down before he hurts himself. His response is "You're no fun~", pouting at you.
He gets bored eventually getting down, but beware now that he knows you have trapeze bars in your room he's going to visit more often. He really likes this about you he is intrigued by the way you move and perform those tricks, he is definitely bragging to Azul and Jade about this.
Vil
He's very knowledgeable about performance arts and finding out you are a trapeze artist piqued his interest.
He walks in on you suspended off the floor in your room as you hold onto a hoop performing a transition into a horizontal split. He admires your flexibility and endurance, and the fact you are doing this without any cables. He trusts your skills and capabilities in maintaining your safety. He observes you silently his hand near his chin, he admires your form and the shapes you create with your body and the hoop.
"Splendid, dear." He speaks up. "The way you hold yourself is beautiful". He takes in your outfit, the tight clothing that highlights your body shape and the showing skin near you arms, legs and back that helps you hold on the hoop.
He questions weather you're part of a studio or a circus crew, when he finds out you're not he does offer promoting your skills. He sees so much potential in you, wanting you to improve. Being the influential celebrity he could help you make a name for yourself if you are willing.
Vil is interested in seeing what else you can do, asking about the pose names and how they are performed, appreciating the aesthetic lines you body creates complimentary to the hoop. If you do something like a back balance he does get a little nervous concerned over your safety but trusts that you are well trained and won't fall.
"You don't stop surprising me, do you?" He smiles genuinely feeling pride and admiration for you.
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♡♡♡
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huellitaa · 1 month ago
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why people don't like you ₊˚⊹ 💬🎀
okay this is not as harsh as the title suggests but i wanted to put it literally bcuz this is a problem i've struggled with for the longest time. im gonna be brutally honest here. there are so many reasons why ur not of the social status you want to be or don't have as many friends as you like yadda yadda yadda. SO ,, here's my thoughts on why that's the case , and how to help! 🫶🏻🎀💬
──★ ˙ ̟🎀you're fake
whether its cuz ur trying to "fit in" or because you have a completely different personality stored in the back for everyone you meet, ur fake. its very simple. its not necessarily a bad thing, it just means ur insecure.
🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ how do you deal with this?
stop trying so hard girl. it's not that deep. there are 8 billion people on this earth and counting, u really think this person's gonna matter when ur living ur dreams and thriving even more than you ever imagined you could? no. move on. next please!
find out who the fuck you genuinely are. you're never gonna live your life if YOU aren't the one living it. once you get a start on finding who YOU are it's gonna make you more authentic -> more magnetic -> more attractive in every single way, including social.
u arent obligated to fit in. think about the type of people that you see in the street and you stare a while at, the type of people who stand out from a crowd for whatever reason, the people u look up to, ur idols who you could never imagine to meet in a thousand years; do you think they fit in? do you think merging with a crowd is what made them appeal to you so much? no. think abt that.
wake the fuck up and realise u deserve better. why are you neglecting yourself by hiding yourself from the world? would u do that to anyone else? would u get anyone else to change themselves just so they can fit in? girl get a hold of urself!!! you've been through so much and youve made it so far and yet you're still pretending to be someone you aren't?? you deserve SO much better. people who truly deserve you will always love you for you, no one else.
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──★ ˙ ̟🎀 ur too awkward / anxious
i want to preface this by saying theres nothing wrong w this at all and i completely understand but ur gonna face some problems of people interacting with you. or you interacting w them. or both. i was diagnosed w generalised anxiety disorder when i was 11, so i understand how much this can impact ur life not just socially but in all areas.
⭐𓂃 ࣪˖ how do you deal with this?
first thing im gonna mention to preface is this can be a symptom of an underlying condition u may need to get checked out. if its impacting ur everyday life please seek therapy, i am not a professional and cannot help u w this, even if i'd like to. i love u ♡
find what is making u anxious. what about social interaction is scary to you, and why? why does interacting w others make u nervous? is there a specific thing ur worried about or u find nervewracking? always. find. the root!
have compassion and empathy and patience w yourself. its perfectly okay and normal to some extent to feel like this and of course we're all gonna feel like this sometimes but its important to treat urself with care, especially in these times.
treat urself as u would a child. i recommend treating urself like a friend a lot but when ur in a delicate and emotional state like this its better to treat urself like ur ur own child. take care of urself with the same love and attentiveness as you would your own children and give yourself time and take care of yourself to work through the issue. ♡
break things down and take it slow and simple. break it into steps and PUT. YOURSELF. FIRST until u feel able to go back out into the public again and be That Girl ♡
──★ ˙ ̟🎀 ur straight up mean
this can be anywhere from just being generally disinterested in people, being constantly negative all of the time to being just really shitty and rude. we all have the same potentials and possibilities but sometimes we can fall into the trap of negative patterns when interacting with others, which is okay. everyone messes up sometimes. but the important thing is is that we fall back out of that and become even better for it!
💬𓂃 ࣪˖ how do you deal with this?
try ur best to put ur ego aside and think about yourself from an outside perspective. would you wanna be friends with you? if you were another person, how would you think people feel around you?
(🗒🎀 note: if that's too difficult, create someone in ur head or mentally assign ur traits, the good and bad, to someone you dont really know, and think ab how youd feel around them. insecure? jealous? confident? excited? nervous? think about it.)
i know it sounds weird but literally just sit down and talk to people close to u when you get the chance or the opportunity comes up and ask if anything you do comes off rude or blunt or abrupt or any sort of negative trait you think might be the issue here. or just subtly (or directly, either one works) try and find out their opinions on you so u can figure out if that aligns w what and how u wanna be, and then how you can change that.
just be generally more sweet and polite. people are easily gonna like you more if ur not a total dick. stop being mean to people, say please and thank you, compliment strangers, smile at everyone, put ur ego aside cuz its really not that deep girl.
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──★ ˙ ̟🎀 ur too nice / people pleaser
okay being nice is not a bad thing. there is a fine line between being THE nice girl and being A nice girl. there is a fine line between being kind and being a pushover. you don't have to sacrifice urself to be nice to people. being nice should go both ways!
🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ how do you deal with this?
first things first, like all things and like i've said a billion times before, you need to address the root of what is causing you to act like this. this should always be the first thing you do when addressing any problem, esp w urself. why are you acting like this? what is causing you to endlessly seek approval like this and sacrifice urself in the process? think.
start saying no to people, even to the littlest things. if you want to do it then sure, but start saying no so much more often. it gives you a sense of control and shows you only you have a choice in the things you do in ur life, no one else.
define kindness. is what ur getting in return to this unconditional self sacrifice genuine kindness, or friendship, or respect, or attention, or whatever else you assume you're receiving from all of this? only you can answer that. ask urself what the genuine meaning of all the things ur trying to gain from this are and then see if that aligns w what ur receiving. (🗒🎀 note: also read this post of mine for more on this! ♡)
again, therapy is gonna help a lot w this. if this is making an impact on ur life, social or otherwise, then i am not a professional and cannot help u w this (as much as id like to). ily and i believe in u ♡
──★ ˙ ̟🎀 you seem "unapproachable / intimidating"
people are threatened by talent. people are threatened by beauty. people are threatened by what they aren't. so, congrats! you've achieved your goal! 🩷💭
🫶🏻𓂃 ࣪˖ how do you deal with this?
i told my therapist once that people have told me i seem rude, unapproachable, intimidating, etc. and i felt really upset about it because i dont wanna come off that way. i wanna be nice and approachable and someone people can talk to. and she asked me what i would do if my favourite celebrity or famous person or whatever was my age and was walking through my school. i told her i'd think they were really cool and want to be friends with them, but wouldn't be sure how to go about it bcuz they'd be super intimidating. think about that.
🗒️🎀 note: but if you do find that people say this or act like this around you a lot, then you might need to do some introspection and ask urself if anything ur doing makes people feel like that rather than their own insecurities and mindset. ♡
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i just want to quickly add that not everybody is going to like you. everyone feels a general sense of dislike from time to time and this post is what i mean by that, NOT how to make everyone like you bcuz that's literally impossible and something you shouldn't waste ur time and energy on. as harsh as i may have been in this post ur amazing and i love u no matter how much improvement you have to do ♡ i love you and am proud of you and you should be proud of yourself too!
all my love... 💬🎀🫶🏻💗
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naffeclipse · 2 months ago
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Charm Brought It Back Pt. 3
Reader x Witches!Sun, Moon, & Eclipse
Commission Info
The lovely @pure-plum request a third part to @jackofallrabbits's and my Hocus Pocus AU! I'm so excited to share this next installment. The witch boys are far from done with the little historian and Michael has some explaining to do. Sun needs to share some vows and Eclipse tries to explain some things on the roof of Michael's home. Enjoy!
Content Warning: Suggestive themes, heavy kissing, heavy touching, injury, blood, violence, fire, (temporary) animal death and (temporary) character death.
———
On the outskirts of town, where the buildings and the suburban life thins into winding roads and wild, pale orange and deep red trees, is Michael’s home. He lumbers towards it like a creature from a 1950s movie.
Weaving between your footsteps is Vanessa, the talking rabbit. Her ears stay pricked and her wide, green eyes scan the starry skies constantly—blades of dead grass stick to the legs of your pants. Holes decorate your sweater, and your breathing has yet to level into something less frightening by the night's events.
You close your eyes for a brief moment to contain all the terror within you, but you almost trip on the dark pavement of the road. Michael reaches out to steady you with a rotten hand. Straightening quickly before giving him a glance of reassurance that you're alright, you nod. You stare at the putrid flesh of his fingers. Your stomach twists.
His dark eyes, alit only with twin, pale pricks of light, linger upon you. The weight is unbearable.
You’re not walking much better than the cursed, rotting man with a broken leg. When you asked him if it hurts, he said no. He can’t feel much of anything. You almost burst into tears, but he told you to keep going. It’ll be alright. 
You don’t know what to think anymore.
“There, up ahead,” Michael's voice churns with gravel. He gestures with a putrid arm. “My house. We’ll be safe there.”
It’s a bonte-white structure, a touch old considering the peeling paint on the outside as well as the overflowing garden of lavender—but you understand now why the flora flourishes on the grounds. 
Two stories tall, the roof slants over the attic. On top, a cupola framed in square panes of glass gives a small sense of safety, like a lighthouse on a cliff overlooking a stormy sea. The dark shingles slope down over the upper-level windows. 
“Do you know where Afton’s home is?” Vanessa speaks, and it almost startles you out of your wits. Her small, fuzzy head turns towards him while he reaches the front gate and shoves it open. You follow in afterward.
Your brow crinkles. When Michael first approached you, inquiring history of some genealogy he was doing on his family, you did point out a few historical buildings and locations within town. He said he needed your research for… personal reasons.
“I do, thanks to our friend,” he gestures to you. 
Vanessa flatly says, “The virgin.”
You cringe as the rabbit hops onto the porch. Michael stops before the cement steps with a quiet growl.
“Don’t say that.” He turns to you. “Can you help me up? I’m sorry, I smell like death.”
“It’s okay,” you smile, then immediately grimace at the stretch while you take his arm. “It’s not… going to fall off if I tug you up, right?”
His dark hair falls across his forehead while he shrugs. “I hope not.”
With that cheerful reassurance, you hook his elbow. Shadowing his step, you help him lift his bad leg onto the step, and pull the rest of his body afterward. Repeating the motions, you fall into a natural rhythm by the time you reach the front door. All the while, your mind whirls at Michael’s current condition while the rabbit waits impatiently at the door and the bizarre events since you lit the starry candle. 
“You didn’t tell me…” you say softly but fall short. You don’t want it to be an accusation, but you want to know. “You didn’t tell me about the brothers.”
He turns his face towards you. The clogging scent of decay infiltrates your nostril and you’re forced to cough to clear it away. Spying the yellowed cusps of his molars between threads of his cheek flesh conjures a sickness in your middle. His half-rotten lips press together into a thin line.
“It’s hard to approach someone with ‘Hey, I’m a witch hunter, just like my great ancestor who hung witches.’”
“Michael,” you chide.
“I warned you,” he says.
“I know.” You shake your head. Reaching out, you grab the door handle and push it open. “We need to brace your leg. Just because you don’t feel hurt doesn’t mean you aren’t.”
“Cursed,” he corrects quietly. “Not hurt. It could have been worse.”
His eyes drift to Vanessa, who stands guard for one moment, staring out into the darkness, before he returns his attention to you.
“I can still do things, though I wouldn’t want to be caught by the witches. They would torture me for eternity if they had it their way, I’m certain,” he drips derision.
A dark fist squeezes your heart. Heavy and pained, you guide Michael into his home. You’ve been in here once or twice, advising him in his research since he asked for your help. It was fun. You like talking about the town’s history how many historical homes are still maintained in the area and what significant events took place on what are now random fields or paved parking lots.
“Do you have some wood boards or planks we can use for a splint?” You ease Michael onto a blue couch, ripping slightly at the seams along the arms. The pale wood coffee table is overrun with books, an assortment of old and dark pages worn by time. You’re tempted to flip through titles, but fear keeps you on track. Michael might dissolve into dust and bones right before your eyes. 
“Yeah, under the sink. I have medical supplies in there.” Michael nonchalantly grabs his ripped jeans leg by the knee and hauls his broken leg up to prop it across the coffee table. A part of you squirms to see the unnatural bend in his shin bone, the leg all but collapsing. He continues without missing a beat, “Don’t worry about cleaning the wound or painkillers.”
“O-okay.” You sound far away. Those aspects are important to treating any injured person but what rules apply to a cursed man? Dizziness circles your skull as you stumble into the kitchen. A few dirty mugs are left in the sink. Rummaging underneath it, you find a black tote filled with medical supplies, a suspiciously, well-prepared assortment from bandages to antibacterial ointments. Needles for sutures wink up at you. Wooden stints wait as if expecting you.
Why does Michael have so much emergency aid prepared? It would be nice to think of Michael as simply a man who is well-prepared for the worst, but after tonight, how can you believe that? He’s a witch hunter in the modern day. 
There’s so much you don’t understand. 
Picking up the entire tote, your questions follow you back into the living room. Vanessa sits on her haunches on the coffee table, her fur still caked with streaks of dirt as she examines Michael’s broken leg. He straightens on the couch as best as he can when you kneel beside his wounded leg.
Following Michael’s instructions, you set the splints around the limb, up his knee, and over the top of his shoes. 
“Ties,” Michael says, “right here.” He leans over and fishes through the tote until he finds dark cords. 
You tie it carefully. You don’t want it too tight or else it could cut off blood circulation—if that is still functioning within his walking corpse. Dismissing the idea, you shudder and finish off the knot. 
“Do you have salt? More charms?” Vanessa asks, her attention upon Michael.
“I do. Weapons too,” he says.
“Wait.” You straighten, stepping back to gaze at both of them. This is not a normal conversation. This is not a normal get-together with a zombie and a rabbit—you need answers. Now.
“What is it?” Vanessa asks, her little rabbit face perturbed by your behavior.
“What is going on? No one has given me a straight answer all night.” You cross your arms, clutching at the torn sleeves of your sweaters. 
Michael and Vanessa share a glance as if they’ve known each other far longer than just this evening. Isolation settles upon you.
Michael faces you, testing the splints to see how well they hold. They remain rigid around the broken limb.
“The brothers are witches. They’re very real, and they’re very dangerous,” he says, his dark, sunken eyes holding your gaze. “My ancestor, William Afton, was a witch hunter. He hanged them for their crimes.”
“They were supposed to stay dead.” Vanessa’s voice lowers. Shame and hatred mingle into a chord under her tone. “I was there the day the brothers were hanged. I was the one who led Afton, my master, right to their home. For that, the brothers cursed me with immortality and this wretched body.”
Her ears flick. A heaviness settles over your chest, and your breath quickens into a shallow, desperate rhythm.
“You mean… all this time?” you whisper. 
Vanessa stares at you. Her green eyes are unreadable.
“All this time, I guarded the starry candle. Until you came along,” she seethes for one brief moment.
“Vanessa,” Michael’s voice cuts over her. “Don’t… I shouldn’t have let anyone go there, much less alone.”
“There’s the ceremony we must worry about,” she jumps in place, twisting to face him. “We must only wait them out until dawn, and they will return to their graves.”
Your head spins. The witches who spun you around and purred in your ear have wrecked so much havoc, even after their demises. You turn away.
Michael calls out your name.
“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” you ask, not looking back at him. Your fingers knot ceaselessly into the fabric of your sweater, widening the holes further. 
“Of course.” Michaels’ voice softens. “Up the stairs, in the attic. Take whatever shirt you want. There’s something else we need to tell you, though. Can you wait a moment?”
“No,” you whisper, then shake your head, “Just… Just give me one minute, okay?”
You don’t wait for an answer as you step out of the room. Hurrying up the stairway that leads to the attic, you hear a hushed exchange. The rabbit harshly wonders if it’s wise to let you leave. You hurry up the steps.
The landing is open, sprawling with chests shoved against walls and a dusty desk left beside a window overlooking the garden sprawling with lavenders down below. A sack of wooden and leather charms sits near the top of the stairs. Across the room, a bed sits with a thick, brown quilt depicting yellow and orange flowers in geometric patterns over the cover. Does Michael sleep up here?
You venture forward, finding a closet with bi-folding doors. You nervously touch your fingers to the handle. Michael said it was alright, but somehow, this feels like an invasion of privacy. A little funny, considering you don’t know as much about your friend as you thought. 
Sliding one open, you find a few shirts hanging. Plaids and button-ups and pullovers, all with the faint hint of Michael’s musky, woody scent. You reach for a fisherman’s sweater, green and thickly textured. Lifting the hook off of the rack, you gingerly handle it with grimy fingers. You make a quiet sound of equal disgust and annoyance at yourself.
Look at you. You’re a mess. You went to explore a historical home and brought three witches back to life. Michael and Vanessa know who the brothers are and the brothers have seemingly claimed you as an intricate piece in a ceremony you have yet to understand.
You should listen to what the witch hunter and cursed rabbit woman have to say. Learning more and diving deep into the past has never been a feat you’ve shrunk away from, but you feel so strange. Confused. 
Phantoms of Eclipse’s hands slip underneath your sweater. Moon’s vows circle your head in a chant, spell-binding and complete. Your stomach burns with the memory of Sun pulling you onto his lap and flying off. 
This should be simple, like a fable. The witches must be defeated and the village saved. Historically, however, witches were only innocents. They were victims of powerful people and scapegoats for natural disasters and widespread sickness. They weren’t luring children away into the house of candy. They were simply practicing an art or culture that so few understood.
A gentle stroke of pity fills you when you think of the brothers and their hangings. Were they truly so evil they deserved to die?
You hear a soft creak of wood just above your head. Your eyes lift to the ceiling. The home is old. It’s bound to groan and settle in around you. Though your heart briefly knocks against your ribs, you clutch at your holey sweater and remember what you’re doing.
Michael and Vanessa are waiting for you. There’s more you don’t understand, and you have to face it. You lower your shoulders and close your eyes, then shiver.
A cool draft ghosts through the room. You turn, dropping the red sweater on the bed. Curiously, your eyes roam the windows, searching for which one hangs open—and why you didn’t feel a breeze before.
A spiral staircase leads up into the cupola. You peer skyward into the black, starry darkness through frames of wood. One of the glass panes is slightly ajar, pushed in, and left precariously loose. A chill slips against your skin through the holes of your sweater.
Was that always open?
Your spine tingles; the sensation of no longer being alone. 
“Hello, sunshine,” a cheerful, dripping voice slips into your ear from behind you.
Sun.
You inhale sharply. Before you can scream, a hand clamps over your mouth. An arm, lithe and solid as iron, wraps around your waist. The witch lifts you off your feet. Struggling, you claw at the hands holding you. Panic surges into your veins as you’re carried across the room and then twisted around to face your abductor. Without his warm, dark palm leaving your lips, Sun pins you onto the bed. You gaze up at him, eyes wide as he grins devilishly. He immediately slots his knees on the other side of your legs, hovering above you like a dark red sunrise, securing you in place.
A quiver runs through you. Your middle returns with a familiar warmth while you roam over his visage. His wide, pale eyes greedily devour you. His other hand softly pets your collarbone, hooking the collar of your shirt to expose more skin.
“There you are.” His thumb softly swipes your cheek without giving you room to speak. “I feared the fool rabbit and the rotten witch hunter spirited you away from us. No need to fear, my darling. We’ve come back for you.”
You whine underneath his palm. His grin widens as if he finds your little muffled sounds adorable. Sharp teeth glint in the near darkness of the attic.
Squirming, you grab at the edge of the bed and attempt to pull yourself out from under him. Sun clicks his tongue in disapproval.
“Ah, ah, ah, my dove! I haven’t gotten a kiss from you yet.” He shakes his head with great sorrow. “Don’t you want to hear my vows?”
He snatches your wrists, one by one, and shackles them in his one fist. He lifts them over your head and holds them against the headboard. Your heart thunders at how easily he contains you. Yet, you twist and flutter at him so close. A scent of honey and wildflowers falls from his cloak, sweet and intimate. You gaze up at him, little more than a fly caught in a spider’s web.
“It’s truly breaking my heart,” he feigns dramatically slumping. “My eldest brother has the pleasure of knowing the taste of your lips, and my twin has spoken his vows to you, but what of me? What am I supposed to do but die of heartbreak?”
He leans closer. Your eyes dart to his mouth and back to his gaze, holding you in a feverish, boiling want. A swipe of his tongue wets his teeth. A heat floods your cheeks.
“Shhh, sunshine. I’ll remove my hand so long as you’re good.”
You weakly nod. Your jaw trembles under his palm before the witch spears you with one last warning. His grin, however, grows. His hand lifts away and frees your mouth. Nervously, you lick at your lips while he studies the movement with pleasure staining his expression.
His hand falls, his dark satin fingertips flowing down your chin before ghosting over the sensitive cords of your throat. As if painting with his hands, he follows the curve of your collarbones. You wince when his claws cut through your poor sweater as he warms your chilled body with his palm pressed against your shoulder.
“Will you allow me the honor of becoming your husband?” He holds your gaze. 
Your breath slows as his hand falls to your side and begins softly caressing you through a notable tear in the knitwear of your shirt. A shiver spreads across your body from his touch. He tilts his head, his sun rays cutting through the darkness in a peacock-like twirl.
“Will you allow me to worship you endlessly, to be at your beck and call, to endure curses and terrors, and to witness blooming gardens and bright days by your side?” He sighs so sweetly as if he can’t stand the thought of stalling a moment more. “I’m afraid you are simply too lovely. Let me show you my devotion, then you may say ‘I do.’”
A tender pang in your heart ripples through you. Gazing into his pale, wide eyes, you fall into them. Would someone so evil have so much good to say? Would he ask for your hand in marriage if he truly meant harm?
“Sunshine?” Sun purrs gently. “It’s alright. You can speak your vows later.”
“Wait,” you whisper. Your gut twists as you think of Michael and Vanessa. Your friends are cursed, and they have the power to undo it. “Michael and Vanessa are suffering. Can’t you remove the curse placed upon them?”
Sun’s mouth pulls taut into a razor-sharp grin, but he doesn’t truly smile. Your stomach clenches with dread.
“How sweet to think the enemies of my brothers and I deserve mercy.” He withdraws his hand from the hole in your sweater and slips down to the hem slipping up your waist. His thumb slides over your hip bone. Softly, he begins circling it and you must bite your bottom lip to keep from gasping at how gentle his touch is. 
“Please,” you say quietly. You curl your fingers, still trapped under Sun’s grip. “I can’t say what you want me to say until Michael and Vanessa are free.”
“Hm,” he hums, the sound rolling deep in his chest, “A great gift to demand as our bride. Why don’t we speak of something else? Something more delicious.”
Your lips part as he leans down. His face is mere inches from your own, and you feel a buzz upon your mouth in anticipation. Shyly, a pink blush fills your face.
He draws his hand from your hip and takes your chin in his hand. His thumb gently brushes your bottom lip, holding you in place.
“You have the most beautiful freckles,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded and sultry. “Your lips are like roses. Won’t you let me stain myself in them?”
“Sun.” You want to turn your face away, but he’s so close. You can smell the sweetness of his person, and your core becomes molten. 
His mouth finds yours, and heated light falls over you. You fall utterly still under his gentle and smooth, practiced motion. Pushing and pulling, like steps to a dance, he kisses you. His tongue softly swipes at the seam of your lips, asking for entry. A mewl catches in the back of your throat. Insistent but gentle, Sun’s tongue finds its way past your teeth. The molten heat within you becomes lava, volcanic, and you are filled with his feverish desire to love you.
His grip softly flexes against your waist and wrists. Your back arches slightly, and his hand slips underneath you to support your spine. He draws you flush against him. Your sweater rides up, and you feel the soft fabric of his billowy shirt and the smooth, marbledness of his torso. A great fluttering erupts within your chest. Dizzy and struck by his full attention, you are molded by the sheer heat of his affection.
You’ve never felt such love before.
His tongue caresses your own before he draws it slowly out of your mouth. A stretch of spit follows before it snaps. He breaks the kiss, leaving you cold. You whine, afraid to never have such a connection again. You fall back to the mattress but Sun’s hand splayed over your back refuses to let you go, and you remain fast against his body.
He chuckles. “You are so sweet and precious. I have had lovers before, but you are the one who will stay with me. You are mine.”
You breathe out heavily. Your chest is gooey and warm, and your heart beats to a fiery tempo. 
“It’s alright,” he speaks in a low growl, passionate and terrifying, “Accept my vows, and I will love you for eternity. I will give you my heart on a silver platter. I will be your undying servant. I will dance with you every dawn. Sunshine, say ‘I do.’”
It’s on the tip of your wet lips. The words. The one phrase that will somehow evoke magic and time and fate, and make you entirely his.
“Oh, Sun,” you breathe, shaking your head.
Would it be wrong? Couldn’t you show him that he has too many curses? There are other ways he and his brothers can use their magic, right? They don’t have to be like this again.
“One more kiss,” he breathes against your cheek, fingers curling against the dimples of your spine before he bows over you. Your breath catches at the touch of his lips—
Footsteps thunk, slow and uneven, up the stairs. Michael's voice calls out to you, gently, but the undertone of concern does not miss your ears. The splint is working. The quick scurry of little claws scrabbling upwards echoes towards you and the witch about to kiss you.
Sun snarls silently. 
You clench your hands.
“Don’t hurt them,” you whisper, “Please.”
He levels you with a look, a glint of a blade-like calculation.
Rising, Sun pulls you after him in a whisking motion. Your vision spins as your hands fly down to cling to his shoulders. Taking your hips, Sun secures you against him, glaring daggers at the steps leading into the attic room before Michael’s purple face emerges, then widens in alarm and fury. Vanessa bound inwards and jerks to a stop, stunned. 
Sun cackles as he skips you backward in a dizzying, near glide upwards to the cupola. 
“Go and rot elsewhere, witch hunter!” he calls out. You clutch at his arms as he pulls you towards the askew window pane. The night breeze causes your hair to flutter around you. Sun grips you tighter, bowing close and protective over you. “It’s a beautiful night for a wedding, don’t you think?”
“No!” Michael shouts your name, stumbling forward at a break-neck speed. Vanessa scrambles up the thin, narrow steps with bounding legs.
Before you can cry out, Sun bends in half, forcing you down with him as he sticks one leg out of the window, and in one smooth motion, taking you in his arms like it’s your wedding night, he slides you out of the window and onto the roof of Michael’s home. You catch the last fleeting glimpses of Michael and Vanessa, both slapped with horror.
Sun extends his hand. With a hushed but fierce chant, magic heats the air. The little hairs on your arms prickle with a sizzling sensation as Sun casts a spell from his lips. The glass becomes molten, shining orange and taffy-like as it remains stuck within its frames, and then with one more word, Sun changes the glass once more. It warps and expands, becoming almost triple in thickness. 
You catch the sight of Michael throwing himself up the stairs. A warning flies from your lips. Whether he can’t hear you or he can’t stop himself if he wants to or not, he flies into the glass. He bounces off of it as if it were a steel wall. He hits the other end of the cupola, almost falling down the steps before he catches himself.
You gasp sharply. Clinging to the shoulders of Sun’s cloak, he purrs in delight as he slips carefully down the old, faded shingles.
“It’s alright, sunshine.” He pecks your cheek as the sloped roof descends to a dangerous lip with only the gutter acting as a barrier between you and a 20-foot drop. “Eclipse should have cursed the witch hunter into a rabbit. A yellow one with purple eyes. I would have let you keep him as a pet. Vanessa, too, if you ask nicely.”
“Don’t drop me!” your voice rises shrilly as you tuck your face against his neck. “Please.”
“Oh, I’ve received enough lectures from my brothers,” he laughs, then presses close to your cheek, contrite. “Please, forgive me, my darling. My excitement overtook me. I merely had to have you—and our vows still haven’t been exchanged!”
He steps over one of the windows, taking you to the south-facing side of the house, away from the window you both emerged from. Sun is light and graceful as he crosses the dizzying slopes of the roof. 
“The bride returns,” a familiar voice crones. Eclipse.
Lifting your head, you start as Sun slips towards the very lip of the roof. There, floating right in the open air, dozens of feet above the lavender garden, is Eclipse. Moon perches on an arch upon the roof with a disgruntled expression twisting his face while he strokes the warm, honeyed wood of Sun’s broom.
“I’m surprised you didn’t drop our bride once more,” Moon drips with venom. You gaze at him, remembering how he pinned you to the mausoleum wall. A bubbling roil returns to your middle.
“Silence, brother,” Sun growls, “You had your chance to exchange vows and you lost it to a fool imp and a vermin!”
Moon’s red eyes soften upon you when your gazes meet.
“Hello, little mouse. We almost lost you.”
“Moon,” you say softly, blinking against the starlight.
“Come here, little comet.” Eclipse opens his arms out to you. You openly stare. With ease, he balances upon the slender reddish-brown wood of his broom, his cape descending around him like wings. His grin is sharp and earnest, all at once. “We must make haste.”
“Wait, wait,” you try to shake your head but Sun passes you easily onto Eclipse’s lap as if you were mere feathers. 
“Sun?” Eclipse looks to his brother.
“No, I didn’t get vows in return,” he huffs, “the nasty witch hunter has a habit of interrupting private engagements.”
“I thought so.” Eclipse faces you. You sit securely upon his lap. His black cloak drapes slightly over your legs in the manner of a warm blanket. He gently takes your chin in his hand. You are still at the slight trace of his other circling your waist and securing you close. “You need to perform the ceremony with us.”
“Why? Why is it so important I perform the ceremony with you?” you ask softly. The cool air sends a chill down your back. Eclipse frowns before he hugs you close to his chest, sheltering you from the elements.
For a beat, he is silent. He strokes your arm with the back of his hand in slow, tender motions. Your eyelids flutter under such gentleness.
The sound of glass cracking jabs into the air, muffled but distant. A sharp growl echoes from Moon and Sun. You try to twist back to see if Michael is emerging onto the roof but Eclipse hums sharply, regaining your attention.
“It’s important because of you,” he answers gravely but with no less affection. “I have waited a whole life and death for you. As have my dear brothers. Sunrise will be here soon.”
“Sunrise?” you ask, confused. You’ve heard them tell of the bells ringing for them at dawn. “What does that mean then?”
Eclipse cups your face, forcing your attention upon him despite the rush of footsteps scrambling over the roof, and the harsh breaths and sharp curses.
“You love us, don’t you?”
Your lips part breathlessly. His eyes hold you in molten gold, and you become unbalanced once more.
Do you?
Can you marry these strange and handsome witches the very night you brought them back from their graves?
He drops his touch from your mouth and softly caresses the back of your hand. He looks down at it, admiring the small hills of your knuckles and the softness of your skin.
“We don’t have long,” he says. “We have already devoted our hearts to you, little comet. You have the power to—”
“LET THEM GO!” Michael shouts.
Eclipse’s head snaps back to the roof. Sun and Moon are clawing over the singles, the former giving chase after Michael. Shards of glass stick out of the sleeve of his torn shirt, embedded into his flesh; he seems to ignore the wounds entirely. Moon snatches a white rabbit rushing over the arch of the roof with a swipe of his claws. A sharp squeak of pain echoes from Vanessa. Holding up his catch like a fox with his meal, the witch cackles. 
You startle and start to wiggle desperately off of Eclipse’s lap. 
“Please!” You extend a hand towards Sun and Moon. “Don’t hurt them!”
Eclipse begins to wrap both arms tight around you, despite your struggle. Michael recklessly charges down the slope of the roof and reaches deep into his pocket. Producing pale lavender petals, he tosses them like confetti into the air just as Eclipse curses, then shrieks as the petals fall over you both like rice at a wedding.
“No! We’re running out of time!” Eclipse shrieks as he rapidly swipes at his person, removing the petals with a pained expression, but his golden eyes hold you captive. “My bride.”
You sadly shake your head. A dark mouth swallows your heart in a twisting torment: to stay or to leave. To forsake your friends or to give in to your suitors. 
On a nameless fear, you turn back to the roof and fling yourself off of Eclipse’s lap. His claws swipe at your sweater, ripping a tear into the back of it but you managed to land on the lip of the roof. The gutter buckles. You scream. Michael yanks you by the collar of your almost-ruined shirt and drags you up the roof. Sun cuts into his path.
“Nasty little corpse,” Sun snarls, “I’ll teach you to stay dead.”
“Sun, don’t!” Your eyes widen.
His pale eyes flash to you, his wicked grin easing. In the brief moment of Sun’s distraction, Michael squeezes several petals and a charm in his fist. The lethal design flashes in the starlight. Michael hurls the charm and the few petals left. When the charm hits Sun’s chest, a sharp sizzle echoes. The witch yelps, writhing as you fear a searing of flesh before he manages to fling it off of him. Sun is left clawing at where a mark burns through the fabric of his shirt.
Up the roof, Michael scrambles, towing you after him, trying as you might to look back at Sun in your worry. You reach a hand out towards the witch. He stops in his writhing to look back, but Michael pulls you faster until your feet almost give out from underneath you. Across a peak in the roof, Michael zeros in on Sun’s broom.
“Michael,” you say, but he is already striding towards it. Using his un-splinted leg, he brings his boot down hard on the broom until it snaps and cracks in half.
“Afton!” Sun howls, “I’ll make you pay!”
You hear a sharp snarl from across the roof. You face Moon clutching Vanessa as he begins the mutterings of a curse. Vanessa is kicking with her hind legs and writhing. His black claws wrap around her dirty white fur before she manages to twist and sink her teeth into his hand. A growl, pain-filled and brimming with loathing, echoes before he hurls her away from him. Vanessa falls down the roof and over the edge.
“Vanessa!” you scream out.
“She’s fine, she’s fine,” Michael utters, dragging you back to the cupola. “Go, go, she’ll be outside on the grass, and then we’ll run.”
“No, no, no!” you half-sob. You lock eyes with Moon, his expression unreadable. His eyes are red like blood but he makes no more to stalk after you as Michael shoves you through the shattered window. Thick shards of glass lie upon the steps of the narrow staircase and the wood frame is splintered. 
“Hurry,” Michael urges. He pulls you rapidly through the attic room. He stops only to snatch a leather bag and throw it over his shoulder. “It’s not safe here anymore. They’ll curse it. We have to get to town, shake them off our trail.”
“But Michael, Vanessa,” you sob and realize how stupid you are to trust the witches. They are violent. They are wicked.
You wanted so badly to kiss them.
“Focus up,” he says firmly. “Stay with me.”
You catch a whiff of smoke. You and Michael both pause on the top of the staircase leading to the ground floor, and peer up to find flames licking at the wood of the cupola greedily, and descending further, and further down.
“Fire. Of course,” Michael mutters. “Let’s go.”
He yanks on your arm and you both fly down the steps. Out of the door, you scramble over the porch and onto the lawn, finding the still form of Vanessa on the grass. Just like Michael said. You tear away from Michael to snatch up the rabbit’s body in your arms. You turn her head and find blood splattering the side of her face. Her poor, broken body hangs limp in your hands.
“Vanessa,” you wail.
“Run. It will be okay.” Michael pulls you after him. He races down the lone road, towards the light of the town. 
Twisting back once to stare up at Michael’s home now descending in rapid, unnatural flames of bright orange, you almost fall at the sight of it becoming ash. Upon the roof sit three witches, watching you race away. Their stillness pierces your heart. You sob once more and kiss Vanessa’s head in apology. You didn’t mean for her to die.
Why would they do that? You begged them not to.
Michael keeps running an awkward gait with his splinted leg and his rotten flesh. You keep pace, shoes slapping on the pavement, hugging a dead rabbit to your heart with tears spilling down your face.
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