#we may never truly be able to confirm that

[trujellyfish]

pretty sure that if One Piece was managed by western marketing companies it wouldve failed miserably bc they wouldve been like

"okay it's for BOYS so toys are gonna be ugly ass action figures Only"

"since it's Animated that means it's for CHILDREN so all the apparel will be for youths and infants (again, focus on the BOYS)"

then they'd be like "we're not making any money :( what can we do :( guess we'll just have to cancel the whole thing :("

fans would be like "you could try marketing towards girls and adults a little more"

and they'd go "how? make plushies? branded home appliances? larger clothes? why don't these 'girls' and 'adults' try growing up a little and stop playing with toys or watching cartoons >:("

[nomairuins]

also i admire dws refusal ever to engage with language barriers

[plutoasteroids]

PAC How Will Your Future Spouse's Mother (Your Mother-In-Law) View You

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

This PAC is how your future spouse's mother will view you and any channelled messages I may get; it could be confirmations or anything their higher self wants to let you know.

AGAIN, TAKE WHAT RESONATES LEAVE WHAT DOESN'T THIS IS A GENERAL READING. If no pile resonates with you, it's fine don't force anything to resonate...again it's just a general reading.

PILE 1

Your future mother-in-law sees you as a breath of fresh air for their child (your future spouse) and their whole family.

Before your future spouse met you, they may have been going through some toxic cycles, bad habits or some kind of betrayal from someone or people close to them. For some of you your future spouse may have fallen into bad habits of some forms of addiction.

But after meeting you, your future spouse is going to want to change bring in positivty and healthy habits into his life because they don't want to lose you and their mother is going to notice the positive change and be so appreciative of you.

Your future mother-in-law sees you as smart, capable and they think you are really good at your job, hobbies or whatever it is you are good at. They admire how hard you work, and they feel like they won the lottery/ won in life by having you as their child in law (I don't know if that's a real thing so bear with me).

They view you as someone who is responsible and is able to keep a promise and hold accountability for their words and actions. You may even trigger some change in your future spouse's family as a whole because maybe it's the way you carry yourself or your work ethic that will make them go 'Dang we really have to do better; we can't be wasting life like this'.

She'll truly love how you have positively impacted her family.

Also, your mother-in-law said she'll baby you when I was channelling her because she recognizes how hard you work, and she wants to show you that you are appreciated and that it's time to take a rest and let someone else be the one to handle things and take care of you.

PILE 2

First thing I channelled from your future mother-in-law is that she will feel 'iffy' about you. Meaning that she's not sure if she likes you or not. Okay it's more like some things about you may rub your mother-in-law the wrong way like maybe she's more of a traditional housewife and you and your future spouse don't go according to traditional roles of spouses.

For example, if it's more of a straight couple maybe the wife works, and husband is a stay-at-home father.

-Maybe it's a same sex couple and the mother-in-law hasn't come to fully accept it.

-Another is the couple is again a straight couple and the wife refuses to have a child this could rub the mother-in-law the wrong way. There may be a lot of conflict between your future spouse and their mother about you because your mother-in-law would want their child to find someone else because obviously, they aren't so sure about you.

For other people your mother-in-law can try to compete with you for example 'The way I cook chicken is so much better' says your mother-in-law.

(You can take these as it being a sign a that the pile is for you)

But once she gets past those reservations the way she will view you is someone not very stable like you and your future spouse may like to travel a lot and are never in one place for too long and your mother-in-law could be like 'Why can't you just stay in one place it's not that hard'. But also, she sees your creative side, she sees you as a kind, gentle person with so much care within them.

She sees you as someone who has achieved so much that they can't help but praise you. They will also see you as someone very popular maybe you have a lot of followers or just a lot of friends in general.

They see you as the voice of reason, if anything goes wrong you are the best person to ask for advice, you are the best person to mediate an argument, you are the best person to a person, situation or an item fairly without an unbiased opinion (She might drag you shopping a lot and even show you off to her friends), more so because you have an obvious kindness and compassion to you that she can't help but love and admire about you despite her reservations. They will see you as strong, nurturing, courageous and passionate in the way you carry yourself and the way you talk.

They see you as someone who wants to protect their own peace, someone who wants to keep things balanced and harmonious.

-By the way Pile 2 she won't be like that with you forever she'll warm up. (Eventually😭)

PILE 3

I channelled 2 things from your future mother-in-law:

'You're a saint' and 'How can you deal with them'

Your future spouse may be a bit of a handful, a bit chaotic but in the 'I can't help but find it cute' kind of way.

Your mother-in-law finds you transformative, you never stay the same way for too long (not in a bad way) as in you will either only get better and better to them as time goes on or you just straight up change your appearance and aesthetic so much that it just throws your mother-in-law off.

Okay so your mother-in-law feels like you take really good care of not only yourself but your future spouse. They think you're physically so attractive (not in a creepy way), that you take extra care of your appearance, you may eat well and work out often.

But they also see you as creative and compassionate and your mother-in-law is just so happy to have you as part of her family and she may tell you this often from the moment your future spouse introduces you to her.

She feels like you're always on the move, you and your future spouse may travel a lot, you guys may go out a lot to dinners and parties, but I think these parties and dinners will be more on the luxurious side.

she said, 'as they should' (honestly your mother-in law is so supportive of you to the point that after you marry your future spouse, if you want to get married that is, that they won't even introduce you as their in law it's just 'this is my child'

Your mother-in-law sees you as successful, financially stable, attractive, nurturing and just overall they just absolutely adore you.

[snyderside]

I am not exactly sure if this classifies as an Au or headcanons since Trolls Band Together was kinda short and for the life of me I kinda hate when movies are rushed and we get the cut scenes afterward only as a storyboard(I also tend to like the concept art more than the official art)

But enough of me ranting and more into me getting into what I think/want to happen to Brozone when the band split up

(I choose to call it their solo career)

John Dory(19):

Seeing John Dory's entrance attitude and smugness truly made me think yeah this guy is definitely full of himself and in major denial about some things and what really confirmed my suspicion was when he said "I was the oldest I had no choice but to lead!"

So for his solo career, I thought maybe he did some odd job like bounty hunting, or perhaps he played hero with a small town with a small population of trolls or some other anthropomorphic species. Of course, anyone he would save or any group of bounty hunters he'd join didn't like him because he enjoyed taking control of the situation so much or bossing everyone around. He never liked being alone but he kept driving people away, so eventually he knew solitude was his best option, therefore living in Ronda alone in a forest. He did feel regret for driving his brothers away but only because he knew he was more familiar with bossing them around than some random strangers he'd just met. He kept the mindset of "Why should I feel bad when they're the ungrateful ones!" and "All I've ever done was look out for them, and I stepped up when Mom and Dad died!" after those thoughts he couldn't help but think "What are you doing John Dory?"

Spruce/Bruce(17):

I thought it would be funny if almost everyone at his little restaurant on Vacay Island or should I say Brandy's restaurant...well her dads knew who "Bruce' really was except Brandy. I like to think Bruce went to vacay island because either his therapist or himself thought he should relax more so he went on a "vacation". He chilled out, gained a little bit of weight making him lose his six-pack, and most importantly tried to win the heart of Brandy because she seemed to be the only one not falling for his charm. Brandy played a tsundere type of approach when it came to all his advances on her, but then it all came to a game of volleyball as Bruce's way of showing his dedication to her, of course some of the other players used his small stature against him and he was getting his butt handed to him. He was only able to score a single point (IDEK how volleyball works) and the way he leapt into the air had Brandy star struck, the that that was holding his hair back snapped and he used nothing but shear will power to spike the ball. I mean sure Bruce lost but did he really? He got the girl in the end so it's all that counts right?

Clay(16):

(So I don't really have much for clay because I used most of my ADHD superpowers on the other guys and there's not too much I can go on from the movie)

Now Clay just looked around for jobs, it was retail, then tried working at some corporate building but it all didn't exactly work out because none of his co-workers took him seriously. Feeling out of options Clay walked aimlessly eventually finding Viva and the Putt-putt trolls, at the time imagined them looking more post-apocalyptic and slightly barbaric and frankly chaotic, Viva needed drastic help because she was just a little kid like Clay. Clay offered to help her mainly because he has a tiny bit of OCD (Saying this because of how grumpy he looked when John Dory went off and did his own thing and him practicing and worrying before Brozone performance.) and Viva thought/thinks so highly of him and thought of him as serious which is all Clay ever wanted so he just felt at home...and may or may not have developed feelings for her in the long run. Still, hey I've already got into a Romance segment.

I'm going to leave this here and not do Floyd because I'll talk about his little solo career journey in an OC ramble. (I have no shame.)

Thanks for reading have a lovely day!

[14thgalerie]

home

"In a chilling twist of events, you find your walls marred with splatters of crimson red, and at the epicenter stands your fiancé, a haunting nonchalance in his gaze."

• pairing: tom riddle x reader

• now playing: nfwmb by hozier

• word count: 4.2k

• genre: angst

“What have you done?” You ask, voice breaking in trepidation.

A heavy sense of unease permeated the air, leaving no doubt that what may come out of his mouth will only confirm your worst fears, yet, you still ask. Grappling at the little hope, that fading light, that maybe you might be wrong.

There was no response. The only audible noise was the eerie ruffling of the trees outside, swaying terrifyingly from the storm, paired with the endless ticking of the grandfather clock at the end of your entrance hall.

Hands turning cold and clammy, itching to scratch at the blockage in your throat. To plead with him to answer you truthfully, for once in the entire 10 years you’ve known each other. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” He finally speaks. 

Maybe it was a false light. One that he deliberately put himself in order for you to believe that he was still worthy of your time, of your saviour acts. 

“Did I ruin your act, huh?” You entertain this show of his, one last time. Letting him believe that he still holds the reins. But his piercing dark eyes that are brazenly fixed on you with such a deep intensity urge you to cower back against the door.

“No, I was just surprised, is all.” He puts on that god-awful mask— making you wonder how painfully stupid you were before to not realise you were being played as a fool. The one that he quickly plasters on as he walked the hallways of Hogwarts back then. A gentle smile that mirrors the one in his eyes, inviting and comfortable. “Let’s go outside, shall we?”

He reached out his pale hands, fingers decorated by silver rings, one of which was a gift from you years ago. His hands that always housed themselves above your thigh, tracing mindlessly despite the evident warmth that followed it. 

The normalcy that laced his visage made you want to throw up the bile that had been bubbling in the pit of your stomach since your nose registered the metallic smell that permeated the living room air. It makes you sick that he is capable of such atrocities.

“No.” 

You let a moment of silence occur, watching the mask crack, his perfect smile flinching. You have got to give it to him. He was able to send waves of fear through you, willing you to succumb to his every whim. Even now, as the blood paints the once cream-coloured walls. The walls that you spent hours meticulously covering.

“Let’s talk here, instead.” 

He nods slowly, for the first time, you see how the state of being unsure of your next actions leaves him unsettled and tense. Eyebrows creasing ever so slightly, the bulwark he built around himself getting thicker. 

“Did you honestly think you could get away with this?” You ask, puzzled at his gall. “To pretend that you can barely even see the original colour of our walls now because of-“

Your breath hitches at the thought, unable to speak the words out loud. To do so is to acknowledge that someone has brutally died in the very place that you planned to raise your child in. Somewhere that should have been a safe haven for you.

“Nothing a little magic couldn’t fix, Darling.”

“Are you dense? I don’t care for the walls!” You shout, unable to keep your wits on you anymore.

“Then why are you complaining about it then?”

“I’m talking about how you just killed, no, murdered somebody in our house. Our home. the one place that I should feel safe in.”

“And you are…anywhere you are as long as you’re with me.”

Raising your hands to your pursed lips, dragging it down in exasperation. It truly baffles you how unstirred he is in this situation. You knew he had a qualm for unusual habits, but never did you think that this would be one of those.

“How am I supposed to feel safe when you are the reason for this? The reason why someone would be left wondering where their loved one has gone missing?” The irritation poisoned your speech, but the alarm wasn’t veiled by it. “He could’ve been a father, a sibling, or whatever!”

“Do you really think I didn’t take the time to snuff out every possible hindrance to this? What do you think of me?” He says, almost offendedly. Although you weren’t even sure why. As if that made it any better.

“I don’t know. My fiancé, who works diligently as an auror for the Ministry and wouldn’t do such a terrible thing?” You sarcastically reply.

“Well you got the first part right but don’t act like this wasn’t all because of you.” He points at you with that long, slender finger. It reminded you of your father’s back when he used to reprimand your mother for whatever mistake she had supposedly made.

You glare at him through your eyelashes. “Don’t twist this around, Tom.” A snarl escaped you and you could feel a twinge of anger coursing through you at his words. In your confused and irritated mind, you don’t notice how he flinches at the sound of his name. He forces himself to believe that it was just a slip of the tongue.

“I’m not. I am honestly delighted that I did such a great job, dismembering his face enough that you can’t even recognise this man.” He says as he steps over the body that lies unconscious with its limbs twisted in unnatural ways. Blood covered the canvas of his face, his eyes welled up into dark circles, and from your view, seemed to have been missing a few front teeth. “I want to say I’m sorry that I had to take away the pretty face that you were so enamoured with, but that would be a lie because I hadn’t enjoyed my time like I did while doing so.”

You finally dare to look directly at the body, at the unfortunate person who runs out of luck, and a tiny light bulb in the back of your mind sparks. Yet, you still couldn’t quite put a finger on it. By a few breaths, you calm yourself enough to continue observing the broken figure. 

From the corner of your eyes, a warm golden ring hits your vision. The shape was distinct enough that your brain made quick work to make the connection. 

It was like a pin dropped in the still silence. 

The realisation of who it was sent you spiralling even further into the hollow space in your mind. Cowering in the darkest corner of the space.

He is leaning against the marble counter in your kitchen, where you are still within clear eyesight for him. His body was lined with tension, like a spring coiled to a point of painful traction and you were just waiting for it to snap back.

“Tom…” There it is again.

“Yes, hun?” He takes a tasteful sip of the amber liquid. Savouring the taste of every last drop. The sight honestly distracts you for a second before you forcefully pull yourself back. Horrified at the thought of being aroused when a body lies cold on your carpet.

“Is this-”

“The man from the bar?” He hums, “Yes. Yes, that is him.”

A wicked grin paints his face, cruel malevolence dancing in his eyes. The glint in his eyes flickered with genuine delight as if he was presented with a chance to show off his new toy.

“It was an easy catch, I will tell you that. I was expecting him to put up a bit of a fight seeing as he was all macho with you.” He divulges. Leisurely walking back to the living room, stopping at the person’s head, giving it a nudge with his speck clean leather shoes.

“Why did you do it?” You cut him off. Your mind was reeling at his words as an endless pit formed in your stomach. Talking about it as if it was something mundane.

But he ignores you and continues as if your words were only a gust of wind. While he expectedly should not be a fan of your blatant disregard for him, he doesn’t say a thing about it.

“I followed him the day after, tracking him for a while, noting if there was something else that would hit him harder but seeing him regularly forget he has a family by flirting with young women day and night…it was only right that I rid the world of vermin.”

“You mean to tell me that you had tortured this man to his death all because of his proclivity for cheating on his wife?”

He looks to you, and for the first time that night, a semblance of something else appears on his face. A cocktail of disdain and hatred. “Is that something not worthy of punishment? To swear your vows to a person you declared to be your love and then blatantly lie to their faces about your nightly habits. To forget that your children are waiting for you to pick them up from kindergarten so he could get his cock wet.”

Tom kept his eyes on you, his face breaking into pieces of anger and confusion. “Tell me. Is he not worthy of such when he deliberately chooses women who are half his age? All the while knowing his age gives him power over them?”

You shook your head, tears welling and blurring your vision. You blinked to keep them away as you didn’t want to appear weak in front of him. The way your emotions have dipped and hiked in the past hour has already been too much, leaving you utterly confused about what is even happening anymore.

“I don’t know anymore, Tom. I have no idea what to think, what to focus on and scorn you in particular. Your blatant disregard for our home, using it as your fucking slaughterhouse, now that we mention it, should be something to talk about. You just killed a person, no, you tortured somebody with pure malice.”

“He should’ve been hung, strangled, and quartered!” He pauses, realising his voice has turned a lot louder than he intended. “I’m sorry. But it’s true, Y/N, even if he has done nothing to you, he deserves all of those things and no less.”

His thumbs soothed over your knuckles that have turned pale from their tight clench, easing your hands until your palms are open to him. The twinge of pain from the pink crescent moons on the surface alleviated with his gentle touch.

He leans down, lips tenderly kissing the hand secured in his grasp, before twisting his head to press with the same gentleness on your other hand.

“I am well aware that you abhor these kinds of actions. It’s why I worked hard to keep it from you, I never wanted for you to think of me as some person who reverted to violence for no reason.” He kneels down next to your seated figure to level your eyes. “You are somebody special to me, and not a single word that I know of would be enough to perfectly explain that to you. Nothing in this world, in this reality, could take you away from me unless you wish it yourself. But please, I beg you to understand that I did this out of pure concern and love only.”

Tom raises one of his hands, letting it sit gingerly on your knees that, without your control, has succumbed to your habit of bouncing it in moments of tension. Pressing it with just the right balance of force and gentleness to calm you.

He swallows hard, his chestnut brown eyes flickering back and forth between your own. The previous edge in them is long gone as he looks up at you, instead, a hint of desperation takes its place.

“You love me, don’t you? I know you do and I never for a second have doubted that. I feel the same, and possibly even more than you do and it scares me. I was never made to know love nor ever experience it so when I met you, I swore that there would be nothing in existence that can forcefully keep you away from me.” He says in one breath until his body finally forces him to take one, then he continues. “When I told you how my mind and soul is yours only, I meant it. You are the sole person who can tell me that we are done but please. I will beg on my knees until they are bleeding so that you understand that.”

You finally look at him, actually, look at him. Not one of fleeting glance only. Stomach twisting.

“No law or morality will stop me.”

This is what worried you.

You were sure to tell him off. Take him up on his offer to be away from him without a hint of resistance. At least, more than halfway sure already, but those eyes. Those fucking eyes. You were worried that if you looked at them, every nerve in you that was ready to run would relax. That you would be catapulted into your foolishness, and all the right senses would be nothing.

To see that there isn’t an inkling of malicious ambition in those eyes, but instead, there was only unabashed determination and genuineness behind his words. An openness only reserved for you.

Your heart immediately starts hammering against your rib cage, and you try to resist the urge to give in to him. Forcefully diverting your mind to the monstrosity he committed in your home.

Tom sees this. He always did. He knows you better than you ever will.

“I won’t promise that this would be the last time because that would be a lie and I promised to you that that is something I will never do to you. But I can promise you that you won’t ever have to see this ever again, also because I don’t want you to.”

When he sees that you have finally cooled down, he slowly moves to sit next to you. Making sure that there is still enough space between the two of you so that you don’t feel uncomfortable.

“Tom…” You call out in a meek voice. He hums, patiently waiting for you to continue.

“I get the reason why, as much as it still baffles me, but you didn’t have to go through this much.” Exhaling shakily. “You didn’t have to beat him until he saw the pyres of hell. Report him to the proper authorities for his crimes! That should’ve been the first thing that popped into your head, for Merlin’s sake!”

Your torso swivels to face him, eyes wide as you let everything out. Emotions pouring out of you in the form of tears, staining your cheeks wet again. Tom wanted nothing more than to wipe them away and pull you to his chest, but he knew that you were like this because of him and he didn’t want to push further away from him.

“Why did you have to drag him into our home? Tainting our home with this kind of violence, hell Tom! This is supposed to be where our child would be raised, where they would be spending their lives and now I don’t even know if they should be.” You shouted, waving your arms around wildly.

“They can, darling. This is the safest place they would be in, I would make sure of that. If there is anything that I will prioritise more than anything is your safety and our future kid.” He assures you.

“I don’t want them to witness these kinds of violence.”

“And they never will, just as you never will also. Tonight was an unfortunate mistake for me, one that I will never make again. And I am sorry that you had to, please forgive me.”

“I don’t know.” A murmur, one that could have been passed for a breath. But his sharp ears strained to pick it up.

He was angry. Enraged at himself. This wasn’t how he planned tonight to go, it was supposed to be an easy work and toss. He hadn’t expected you to be a part of the equation, planning the events of the night around yours to ensure that you wouldn’t have a clue of what transpired in your home.

In all fairness, it was a dangerous game that he played. Taking that piece of disgusting waste to your home was a step that he had to take so that he wouldn’t be disturbed by nosy strangers. Taking the off chance that you wouldn’t be home by then.

He was angry at himself that he had broken the unsaid promise to keep this side of him away from you. A small part of him was terrified that you would turn your back on him just as the people before you did. Taking the life that he could have only dreamt of back then with you. The thought curses away the ridiculous calm facade that he has kept when around you.

“No.” Vehemently shaking his head back and forth, dropping your hands on the softcover of your couch as he jumps up to pace in front of you. Trying to calm himself at the prospect of his worst fear turning into a reality. “I’m sorry, okay. I really am. We could move far away, build the house of our dreams and forget that this happened. But I need you to forgive me, Y/N. Please.”

To your utter surprise, he harshly drops onto his knees. Taking your hands back in his trembling hands.

“Tom.” You begin before you are cut off, “You need to stop calling me that.”

“What do you mean? That’s your name.” You confusedly ask.

“Call me darling again, call me anything but that. It’s almost as if you gave up already and that can’t happen, please. I need to know that I'm not alone in this. Please, I’m so sorry.” He says, a slight tremor in his voice.

Your heart breaks at the sight in front of you. The once strong and unwavering countenance he puts on every day was nowhere in sight. Instead, there was a man who was unknown to you, placing his vulnerable self all out for you to see. In a sense that you’ve never before seen, he was gentle to you, yes, but never like this.

Tears lined his waterline until it couldn’t be controlled anymore and they were slipping down his cheeks like a torrential downpour. He was inconsolable.

No time would be enough for you to understand the emotions twirling behind those dark eyes. Overwhelming you to the point of giving in. There was anger, pain, sorrow, and all of it. And you knew he was trying his best to control it, evident by the way his hands were tensing, not wanting to fist them.

“I’m so sorry, ok, and I know that saying it repeatedly for the rest of our days together wouldn’t be enough, but I need you to know that I am. Words are the only thing I can give you right now, however, if you let me…I would prove it to you every day in any way possible to man.”

“I’m pregnant.”

A pause in the beat of sound.

His ears were ringing.

He had no idea if time had paused and his mind was left wondering in the abyss of time if he was hearing things that weren’t true.

“I’m about three weeks pregnant already.”

It was only when your tiny voice permeated through the silent room that he realised he wasn’t being delusional. His ears had not fooled him.

“You…you are?” He asks, with hesitation lining every syllable. 

“I am. I found out today which is why I came home.”

If he was confused by the torrent of emotions and thoughts that waved over him earlier, now it was like he couldn’t comprehend a single exhale anymore. It was only at your touch and call that he let his lungs feel a wave of oxygen.

“I already had my suspicions earlier this week, but I wanted to be sure before I told you, hence why I made a plan with a friend to go to the doctor today. I kept it a secret so I wouldn’t get your hopes up, I know we have been talking about it for a while now so I didn’t want it to be a false alarm.” You explain.

“So here I was, so excited when the doctor told me that I was indeed pregnant with our child that I forgot to tell you I was coming home. I assumed that you were making dinner and I wanted to make it a surprise, so I got ourselves a cake to celebrate.” 

A single chuckle leaves you. “Well, obviously that didn’t go well.” You said as you looked at the box of ruined dessert by the door from when you dropped it.

Although his mind was still haywire from what you had announced, he still made an effort to let you know he was listening intently. Giving you a gentle squeeze in the hand.

“I want them to have a normal life, one that is far from the atrocities of the world and I know that is a child’s prayer, a romantic dream, but I will try my very best to achieve that. That includes taking them far away from this home, from their father, if need be.”

He looked at you as he moved to sit back next to you, keeping hold of your hand still, an unfamiliar look in his expression. 

“Y/N…darling, forget what I said earlier. I would never put a hand on another person again if it meant there wouldn’t even be someone for me to do it for. I will control myself, take the sessions you told me about.” He declares, with a finality in his voice that shows his determination to prove he was being true.

It was a lie, and you knew that. A little, white lie. You’ve been with Tom since 5th year, and now you are at the age of 24, if anybody knew his body language better than anyone, it would be you. 

He would only be more cautious now, making sure that every grainy detail is there in its proper places. Ensure that he would never make the mistake of making you see what he is capable of.

You look at the dormant body that has long passed in the middle of your living room. Mind reeling back to what he mentioned earlier. Now that you have calmed down, you realise that your outburst was more because of shock and less of that piece of trash. He did indeed make you uncomfortable, and if Tom hadn’t been there, you had no idea of your fate then. Added on by the fact that this was apparently a pattern he does to other women.

In all honesty, you didn’t really know what to feel at the moment after all that had happened in the span of an hour. You suppose you should be livid, upset, hell, even guilty that you’re somewhat relieved that someone had enacted an act of revenge on a disgraceful human being.

Tonight was a whirlwind of emotions, to say the least, and you couldn’t trust yourself to make a just and coherent decision.

“If-“ His breath hitches, the thought that flashed behind his eyes making him gasp for air. “If I lose control again, I will never force you to stay with me.”

“Tom, I am not asking you to do all of that. Though, it would be great for yourself and for your mental well-being because you need to find more healthy ways to deal with your problems.” You sigh. “I just ask you to please never let our child see whatever violence you inflict on others, I don’t want him to grow up thinking that this is the answer to everything. They should grow up with the proper mindset that you didn’t that I know you want also.”

“I know but I’ll still try to better myself, for myself. I can’t promise it would be fast, nor can I even promise it would work, but I’ll try.”

“I’ll go stay at an inn tonight while you deal with this-“ Waving your hand around unfashionably. “mess. I’ll call you in the morning and please?”

“What is it?” He asks.

“Take another day off because we need to look at a new house immediately, I cannot stand to breathe in another particle from this place anymore.”

“Whatever the wife wants.” He smiles and pushes a whisper of a kiss against your soft lips. “Still a few more months, Mr. Riddle. I’m tired so I'll go now. Let’s talk more tomorrow because I don’t think I can last another second staying awake.”

“I’ll drive you there, I don’t want you apparating anymore.” 

“No complaints here,” You mumble against his lips that gently press onto yours.  Wanting to say the three words that you loved to say but before you could, 

“I love you, too.”

— hello there ! moved my notes here becuase the intro was too long. this initially had a whole back story that lead up to the events here but i cut it out because that part was taking too much time to complete. also hello, i'm finally writing for my og crush in harry potter but uh i decided to use the tom hughes fancast since this is set way after they graduated.

masterlist

[santacoloma]

Death (as a living being)

I’m actually surprised no one has talked about this before but I’d just like to share my thoughts about this because I thought this was a little interesting

So at this part and during the cave scene with Puss, Death emphasizes on the fact that he’s fond of the scent that is fear.

He mocks Puss almost the entire film, making these elaborate ‘illusions’ in Puss’s head. If he simply wanted Puss dead, he could have just killed him, but as he admitted it himself, he decided to ‘play with his food.’

He gets annoyed when Puss mentions the phrase, “I laugh in the face of death” and quotes him in the cave, saying Puss had never even noticed him because he laughs in the face of death. Puss laughs in his face, quite literally.

And obviously, he was annoyed by this. So what better way to get back at him than to quote him to his death? Death clearly wanted Puss to know the exact reasons he was cutting his life short and he made sure Puss knew it well; he struck him with his blade, immediately deeming the statement ‘never been touched by a blade’ as false and continued to haunt him when he tried to get more lives back in hopes of shaking Death off of him.

Death exerts an extra amount of effort into playing the role of ‘the big bad wolf’, raising his sickles and using them as hand gestures instead of his actual hands.

But no one has questioned his sudden shift in personality when he finds that Puss does in fact value his life and now sees Death as an equal rather than a concept that is below him.

Death looks VERY different from how he did the entire movie. But what else was different in this scene was his intentions. The moment his intentions changed, his creepy/scary complexion had completely faded away into something more gentle. Even his voice had grown soft towards the end of his sentence when he says, “Right?”

What am I getting at? Well, basically, judging from his last scene, I strongly believe that a lot of what we were able to infer about Death’s ‘personality’ from the entire movie was barely even half of how he truly is. The things he says like “I just love the smell of fear”, “go ahead, run, makes it more fun for me,” and “this is gonna be fun”, had mostly been the side of him that he showed to mortals who didn’t know their place in life. In fact, I believe in the cave of lost souls he almost oversells the idea of Death being Puss’s worst fear as he constantly repeats Puss’s quote and tells him, “but you’re not laughing now,” like that wasn’t something Puss already knew.

And regarding his rage when he yells, “why the hell did I play with my food” in spanish, it kinda just confirms that Death was playing a role and this may or may not be how he views fear or mortals in general.

The last scene was a sliver of what or how Death truly was; a softspoken creature who just wishes to be respected by mortals.

But that is just my interpretation of the movie. I very well may be completely wrong about this, but I just thought I’d share my views on this film and how Death was written.

[ziorre]

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[leiflitter]

So, Mystra-

The more I think about her, the more I want to egg all of her statues, because I am honestly convinced that she's likely way more embroiled in Gale's fall from favour than she seems- and that she likely never cared for him in any meaningful sense.

This is gonna be long, gang.

Also I am 1000% up for screaming about Gale/forming an anti-Mystra union so y'know let's be pals

My thoughts are thus:

She has likely always known about his potential and capability of power. He was a child prodigy, after all- and she's a GODDESS. From the first time he truly used the weave, he was on her radar.

This also makes Gale's relationship with Elminster seem too convenient. As much potential as Gale demonstrates, it's also important to remember that Elminster is Mystra's chosen- and Mystra's chosen are often tasked with upholding and protecting balance in the weave. There are countless wizards that Elminster could mentor- so why Gale specifically?

The same is true of Gale's magical education. I've seen plenty of speculation about his possible potential as a sorcerer, and there's a lot of questions around the circumstances of him entering the Blackstaff Academy- as well as a confirmation of his power when he, a little baby trainee wizard, uses The Actual Blackstaff to cast a spell.

As an aside, Gale's little story about his misadventure with The Blackstaff is especially scary when taking into account that the staff is very devious, and it's primary purpose is to protect Waterdeep- although this is again speculation, I don't think the portal to limbo was just the spell going very, very wonky. I think the Staff, sensing Gale's ability and (through the very clear context clues of him using the fucking staff that you normally would need to attune to and that belongs to the top fancy wizard in waterdeep) his ambition, decided that he was clearly a potential threat that might be better off being quietly removed via Death Slaad.

We also know of at least one story of a young, powerful wizard who, y'know, led to the death of Mystryl and the loss of all magic- in part because he lacked the discipline that he should have learned at Wizard School.

So Gale comes along. Karsus 2.0- he's back, he's human and- most importantly- he's lonely.

How better to neutralise him as a threat than to make him loyal to her? Why would she cast aside a possible asset when she could use him?

The main problem with her plan is Gale himself. She can get him into wizard school. She can get Elminster to mentor him. She can make sure that Gale gets the best magical education, so hopefully he will be content and settle for being an archmage.

She can't, however, account for Gale's brain. Let's be honest, Gale is neurodivergent as fuck, and magic is his number one special interest. He was never going to be content to enjoy magic a "normal" amount, so no matter how many hours he may spend being taught about how great Mystra is and how the limits she sets are to be respected... he won't stop learning, growing more powerful, becoming more and more of a threat to her.

So how does she cement his loyalty? By getting personal. This is why him being isolated is important- it gives her an advantage. She can be number one without any effort. If he has an actual bond to her, not just the concept of her, then he won't be dangerous. Except, again, she's assuming that he'll be like so many other mortals and be so awed by her presence that he'll finally be satisfied. But he isn't.

Why the fuck would a goddess take someone so clearly, deeply intense about magic into her personal realm? Why would she show him all the power he would never be able to access?

Because, to her, he's just a mortal. There has to be a point in which he'll either be sated or he'll realise his limits and give up, because he's just an extremely powerful ant in comparison to her. Mystra has never considered getting to know Gale. If she had, she'd have realised that doing the grand tour of All The Magic You Can't Ever Do was a huge mistake. That making herself the focal point of his entire existence was an absolutely dogshit move.

Gale throws himself so hard into Being Mystra's Best Boy because he has nothing outside of magic other than his mother. He summoned his best friend, and he admits that he has colleagues and acquaintances, but nothing much else. He and Elminster clearly care for each other, but it's clear that Mystra's placed barriers between them- and even if they were able to be best buds and make friendship bracelets, together, they're at vastly different stages of life.

It's also likely that Mystra's interest in him led to his isolation. He has been marked as Special- the old gifted child problem where him being So Smart So Magic meant he bypassed the social side of things.

So of course he wants to prove himself, to impress her- his entire metric for his self-worth is Being A Wizard. He says he's bumped uglies with mortals before- but he doesn't mention anyone specifically. And, let's be frank, the man has a case of foot-in-mouth syndrome- if he had any meaningful romantic experience before Mystra, you know he'd have brought it up at least once. "Ah, autumncrocus- back in my apprentice days I picked a bunch for the object of my youthful affections. Unfortunately I hadn't realised they were allergic- but they certainly appreciated the gesture, if you catch my implication... Once they stopped sneezing, of course."

She becomes his whole world. He wants so desperately to be on her level, to be what he thinks she deserves- and yes, it was incredibly stupid of him. However, what the fuck was Mystra doing?

Throughout BG3, high approval Gale is actually incredibly receptive if you tell him not to persue power. Yes, his earlier mistakes may play into this, but I find it hard to believe that he'd be any less receptive to Mystra.

To quote- "I pouted. I pleaded. I swore my ambition was only to serve her better. But she only smiled and told me to be contented."

So, then, why did Mystra not actually engage with Gale on this?

Because she never cared about him.

She tried all the options she thought would work on a mortal, and when they were done she didn't consider trying anything else. She never knew him well enough to understand his motivations- he should have been satisfied with Magic Sex because surely any mortal would be. She couldn't even consider that his love wasn't just him liking the company and getting laid, that he'd still want to prove himself to her. To be worthy of the Mystra she'd let him believe in.

And when he fucked up- if she had helped him, even in a tiny way, then she'd have achieved her goal. Imagine if he'd come to her, agonised by the dark magic within him, and she'd been merciful. The way you would be, if you loved someone. If she had actually known Gale? She'd have done it.

But Mystra doesn't see it as an act of love gone wrong. To Mystra, it's proof that she can't control him, that his potential isn't worth whatever effort she'd need to put in.

She abandons him to die- expects him to go on a pilgramage into the wilderness and just go boom.

When he doesn't? She decides that, fine, she'll deal with it- by sending Elminster to tell Gale the good news! She'll "forgive" him if he detonates himself, honest! He trusts Elminster, Elminster's a father figure to him, he'll do what Elminster tells him. Except that's another example of her not understanding Gale in the slightest. Instead of hope, she's rubbing salt in his wounds- she's flexing her power and showing Gale that his bond with Elminster was always conditional on Mystra's approval, and that Elminster's loyalty lies with her.

No wonder Elminster sent a construct- it's the closest thing he can do that isn't abject refusal.

I am gonna stop rambling now but in conclusion:

Mystra, you absolutely suck. Get wrecked. I hope Bhaal shits in your pocket dimension.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

Hello, sweetheart! I was wondering if you could do Alastor with an overlord reader? I was imagining reader having water based abilities and a blue theme to them! I also imagined the reader being a lot shorter than him (cause he’s like 7 feet tall).Like how would he react to reader being able to summon a tsunami and drowning a bunch of sinners, but being an absolute sweetheart at the same time! Please ignore this if you feel uncomfortable!

~Angel <3

hi angel!!! i can totally do that! thank you for your request and your patience on this!!!

i would love to do this! i’m doing this more in a head cannon/ficlet format, but i may come back to this to make a full fic.

i hope you enjoy!! ☺️

alastor first noticed how short you were. you were tiny

at least to him.

but he’s like 7 feet tall and you kept your human height of 5’2 when you descended to hell.

the second thing that he noticed were you were completely opposite of him

your color palette, your disposition and even the way you spoke were all opposites.

you had a mainly blue color palette. your hair was long and blue, your outfit flowy and not really structured, your eyes were the red that overlords though

you were rumored to be powerful but alastor had never seen any display of your power

you were happy and kind of go lucky, you and charlie were almost like two peas in a pod.

that was until one day, someone threatened the hotel and he wasn’t there.

Idiot sinners who thought they could beat the radio demon

it was the thought that if the radio demon wasn’t there, it would be fine as no one took charlie seriously.

and you wouldn’t let her dirty her hands on these… cretins

The fire balls soared through as they called out for Alastor. Everyone was running around trying to put out the fires and Alastor wasn’t around. He was in Cannibal Town today visiting Rosie. You sighed and closed your eyes. You made your way to the front ignoring the calls of your name and to watch out. You raised your hands and a shield of water surrounded the hotel. You walked out and stared at the sinners.

“Who are you bitch?” One asked. Looking there seemed to be about 30 sinners who made up this party.

“Yeah! Where’s Alastor?” Another asked, raising a molotov cocktail and getting ready to light it.

“Look, gentleman, why don’t you go back to wherever you came from and we can forget this ever happened.” You say, looking at all of them. There’s a beat of silence and then they all start laughing. You look annoyed and the one who seemed to be the leader spat at your feet.

“Like hell, bitch. Be a good girl and get Alastor.” He said laughing again.

“Oh, you’ll wish you got Alastor.” You said, bringing your hands together and then throwing them in a down motion to the ground. Suddenly chains appeared on all of the sinners. Their eyes widened and the leader started to struggle. You smiled as you reached your hand towards him and he flinched thinking you were going to grab him, but then all of a sudden you closed your fist. The group looked at you confused until the water that held them where they were at started to boil.

You raised your left hand up and the boiling water started to encase their legs slowly. You looked at the leader and smiled.

“Wanna make a deal? I’ll end this pain right now, you give me your soul, never come to this hotel again and are at my beck and call whenever I feel like it. You will do anything I ask of you. Do we have a deal?” You grinned as he cried out his confirmation.

You stopped the water from boiling and proceeded to make the same deal with all 30 sinners, they scampered off afterwards and you let down the shield on the hotel. You looked to your left and saw Alastor there, his eyes wide and his grip on his cane tight. Rosie next to him, grinning.

“Oh hey!” You said nonchalantly.

alastor is enamored

you a little thing so sadistic that you get 30 sinners to make a deal with you at once?

he’s not sure if he truly feels threatened or admired you.

rosie adores you

you shock alastor again when another group of sinners come to the hotel and you don’t even walk outside

the only thing heard is a rumbling, a crash and then quiet. everyone looks outside and sees a tsunami drowning a larger group of sinners than before.

everyone looks at you sitting at the bar, complimenting pentious’ drawing and him beaming at your compliments

you were such a sweetheart but you were terrifying

[mrsnancywheeler]

the river (6) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

previous chapter

masterlist

7.1k words

warnings: hurt/comfort, smut, angst, fluff, arguments, a wedding, pnv, unprotected sex, f receiving fingering, he doesn't pull out, cursing, allusions to trafficking, paranoia, violence, mentions of death, suicidal ideation, self-hate, dount, mentions of pregnancy but she's not pregnant, distrust, brainwashing, mentions of Snow, unedited, no use of y/n

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You looked so beautiful, so angelic, so unspeakably alluring standing in front of him in your borrowed dress. Never had he felt more excited than when he'd realized this was in fact the day you would become not just his wife in spirit, but legally, Mrs. Odair. The way you'd so delicately smiled up at him made him feel like his grin was more like that of a mad man, and maybe he was. Madly in love, madly obsessed, madly in need to spend the rest of his life with you. He needed the revolution to be over so he could have a billion kids that looked just like you, that laughed like you did, and smiled like you did. How soft your fingers felt when they brushed his lips with salt water was addicting just as it was when his fingers did the same to your lips. He felt blindly dazed by your smile as you recited the vows, Finnick barely remembered that there were cameras around.

Your genuine happiness was something he had come to miss, yet here it was once again. The feeling that made all the rough times worth weathering the storm, how unequivocally enamored of you he was with each smile and sweet word. Your sugary repetition of what the officiant said eventually waned, Coin had insisted on less flowery vows to keep the event concise, but that was okay because he'd spilled his heart before. It also helped that now he wasn't sure he'd be able to form any coherent proclamations of love when looking at you put him into a stupor.

“I, Finnick Odair, take you as my wife from this day forward. Together or apart, we will always be united. One life, one purpose, one destiny.” He'd never get sick of the way you were looking at him right now, like that same girl from the market that he'd approached all those years ago who was joyously stunned that Finnick Odair would even talk to her.

“You may kiss the bride." The officiant announced and Finnick had never been more pleased for his lips to touch yours. The salty and peachy taste that lingered on your lips that he adored, compounded with the sound of the children's choir beginning to sing, a confirmation that his official voyage with you had really begun. Ever so slowly he pulled away to gaze at you further.

“Hi." You whispered softly through your perfect smile.

“We're married." He whispered back, the giddy smile almost hurt, but he couldn't make himself stop. “Like actually married."

You nodded with a light laugh, "Yeah, we are!” The words left you so breathily before you'd kissed him once again and he wanted to drown in your lips. His mind seemed to echo the same words over and over again, a never ending stream. She's actually my wife. She's so happy and pretty and my wife. My wife. The way you danced and laughed was exhilarating, this was the you that the Capitol had chipped away at making a glorious appearance. You could have another breakdown tomorrow, but right now you shone brighter than the sun and it was all that mattered. It wasn't home, there was no sea breeze in the air, there had been no net to cover you both, or sending the couple off in a boat at the end for farewells. It wasn't even the spring time wedding you'd once whispered about on late nights, but it seemingly was exactly what you both needed.

Your feet had only stopped moving once the cake was rolled out, glorious in its waves of blue frosting. It truly left him amazed in the attention to detail of each sea creature so delicately placed. “Oh, it's perfect." You muttered, squeezing his hand.

Finnick nodded in agreement, “It's amazing." It was the closest to home as either of you could get, he ached to be able to know he'd be carrying you over the threshold of a tiny cottage by the sea, but he couldn't until this was all over. Until they'd won. So the cake would have to be sufficient enough and in the joy, it was. Especially when you so carefully fed him a bite of it, blue staining his teeth as he took the bite. Before the blue and green had just as equally begun to stain your lips when he did the same, and it made him feel so young again. A kid who'd eaten too many colored sweets.

Eventually the propo had to come to an end and with it, the fun and dancing. But his happiness didn't subside, even if it was no traditional reception of dancing all night, at least he could carry you through the door of the compartment and be with you for eternity.

“Hello, Mrs. Odair." He'd whispered after carefully placing you on the floor of the shared room.

“Hello, Mr. Odair." You responded absentmindedly, eyes so loving as your fingers played with his hair.

“We're actually married, officially married, forever and ever and ever."

“Yeah." You glowed, all of you was so bright. “Don't get cold feet on me now."

"Never.” He affirmed, kissing you again.

"Good because I'm rather attached.” He smirked and quickly pulled you back into his lips. Slowly, but surely your lips attacked him more feverishly, with more passion. It had been so long, but it was a feeling he missed so much, until your fingers had slidden down to the buttons of his jacket, where some sort of panic permeated his happiness. He longed for you more than he'd even let himself ponder, but he couldn't risk it when you were still at risk of a meltdown at any turn. So reluctantly he pulled away.

“Angel, what are you doing?"

He missed the cooling feeling of your skin the moment you pulled contact away and hated how embarrassed you suddenly looked. “I'm sorry, I should have asked, Finnick. If you don't want to, I won't.”

His hands reached out to assure you otherwise and caress the side of your head. “No, no, sweet girl, that's not it. You're all good."

For a moment you seemed relieved before the confusion seemed to settle back in. “Then what's wrong?” Finnick sighed, how could he tell you he was terrified that you'd have a mid-thrust mental breakdown that threw you into some kind of terrified hysteria? He sat down on the bed, preparing himself for the hole he was digging himself into. At the very least, talking to you about it now was leagues better than going along until you cracked.

“Honey, I just don't think it's a good idea."

“Oh, okay." Shit. He always ruined everything. You'd been so open and happy all day only for your voice to slightly break with a speck of insecurity. You were so sweet with the way you'd move on to pretend it didn't upset you somewhat and find something else to do.

“Not because I don't want you, trust me I do." The words tumbled out of his mouth as fast as he could form them to try and reassure you.

“If you want to, then what's stopping us? I do too."

"Honey, come here.” He patted down on the bed and you sat, carefully he grabbed your hands, hoping his warmth would provide some sort of comfort. “I just think maybe we should wait until you're feeling like there's less of a chance that you'll get scared when we're in the middle of something.

"I'm not gonna get scared, Finn, I want this.”

"You're not right now, but say you get hit with those thoughts that say I want you dead, which I don't, and I'm on top of you. That'd be scary for you.”

"I haven't had an episode for a couple weeks.” Your head turned to stare at the wall in front of you.

"You haven't had a major one and I'm so proud of you for that, but you've had some small ones. I don't want one getting bigger because of the circumstances.” Your hands pulled away from his, covering your face where stray tears must have begun to fall. “Hey, no, don't cry. I'm just trying to look out for you."

“I make everything so difficult, I'm sorry."

“No you don't, it's all okay."

Quiet sniffles filled the room before you laid your hands back down on your lap to look at him. “Finnick, I get you're worried about me and I love that about you. But I could freak out waking up in the middle of the night or when we're just cuddling. I want this, I want you, and if the worst happens then it happens and we cross that bridge, but I'm really sick of letting it control me.” He wanted you too, he'd felt guilty for any fantasies he'd had of you, but he had missed every part of you beyond belief.

“I just don't want to do anything you might not be able to handle, I'd need you to constantly communicate with me, so I know you're okay."

“I will, I promise."

You were so ethereal, he hated that it made parts of him throb when his brain had already found another dilemma. “I don't think they've got birth control here, or at least we don't have any."

“That's okay, I don't care." No, he couldn't do that to you. How could you handle being pregnant in the midst of everything else?

“It's not a good idea, angel."

“Why? We'll win the war soon and be back home." He wished it was that simple, but poor you having an episode would only complicate things.

“Honey, I just don't think you're ready right now."

“You're?" Fuck. Why the fuck would he say that.

“I meant to say we. We're not ready." Why was he so stupid? How could he manage to be trying to protect you so hard that he caused an episode instead? He'd have to brace himself for the mess he was causing.

“You’re lying to me. Why am I not ready?”

What he'd give for this blip to be over, to be at the point where there could just be children without all the worry about your health. "It's our wedding night, let's not argue. Let's go to bed, I'll read to you.”

But your walls were slightly raised and he could feel it as you stood up. "I wasn't trying to argue, I was trying to consummate the marriage. And instead of just saying you weren't feeling it right now and letting us move on, you said you thought I'd be a bad mom.”

"That's not what I said, don't put words in my mouth.” He said it too sharply and instantly regretted it.

“Then what are you saying, Finnick?” He despised the fact that he was only confusing you more when he was supposed to be letting you know what was real and what wasn't. The stress in your voice was evident as your arms protectively crossed around your body, foot tapping.

“That I don't think this is a good time for a baby, we should jump over a few more hurdles first." Finnick stood up, desperate to touch you, to soothe you. Trying to hide how mortified he was that regardless of all the talk he could still feel himself straining against his pants. “I just didn't say it right, I'm sorry, sweet girl."

"If you don't want to have sex that's fine, but stop trying to come up with excuses.”

"Angel, I do, I'm just…I've gotten so focused on trying not to set anything off that I've started planting the thoughts instead." He should be stronger, more able to read you so that he wasn't the one instigating the thoughts. Instead he was becoming overly paranoid himself, he hated the idea that he could need care when he was finally trying to care for his girl. “What I meant was, I think we should wait until the war is over for certain, so I'll just pull out." Slowly he approached you, hands softly urging your arms to uncross.

He could feel the way you began melting into his touch and it made him feel whole again. "Do you actually want to? I don't want you to feel like you have too because I'm in a mood.” Your eyes glistened with a sincerity that warmed his heart as your arms succumbed to his movements.

"Wanna make my sweet girl feel better, want to make it up to her.” He could basically hear your heart pounding and he loved that you still got somewhat flustered.

“You're absolutely sure though, right? This isn't just you-" His lips on yours cut off the further listings of any anxieties. Free hands searching for the zipper on the back of the dress as he quickly slid it down. He only pulled away long enough to make sure the dress had successfully become a pool at your ankles before his lips were on your chest. “Finnick?" Your voice snapped his head from his assault to look at you, who looked so sheepish to say anything at all. “Can that wait? I'm just… you know.”

With a smirk he raised his head, makitsure to stand fully back up as he looked at you. "You're just what, angel?”

"Finn, you know.” Your fingers messed with his jacket sleeves as you avoided his gaze.

Softly he pecked you on the lips,"Communication.” Another quick peck, "Need you to say it for me.”

"Finny, please don't be mean.” Fuck. Pulling out that nickname ever so sugary sweetly made him want to cave, to get straight onto taking care of you for life. “Already spent all that time arguing."

"Not being mean, angel, we just have to practice using our words.” You lifted his hand to your face, touching the heat of it to your face, which was oddly hot already considering how cold your hand was, per usual.

Your breath fanned across his hand as you quietly gave the confession, “Been aching for you all day, Finn."

“All day?" His hands moved to slowly unhook your bra, “Waited so well for me." The way you needed to just be coddled and taken care of was evident, he wanted nothing more than to love on you any way that he could. He let the bra fall to the wayside so his fingers could focus on how soaked your panties had become. “Can tell you've been waiting." It had been so long it was no wonder you were shy under his gaze. “Gonna make it better, show you how sorry I am." He could fall into the endless depths of your eyes that drew him in and fall forever with a smile on his face.

“I love you." The way you said it so tenderly made his heart skip a beat, he couldn't help but smile and place a small kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I love you, sweet girl.” Your fingers slipped up to continue the unbuttoning of his jacket which fell into a pile on the floor.

“Are you sure-"

“Yes, I'm sure." Finnick tried to back up this assurance through his eyes, hoping you could read through the depths of his soul. He slid his shirt off and you nodded, a signal that you had accepted what he said as truthful. Your fingers had settled on the button of his pants which you'd slowly undone as he stood there in utter awe of just you, all of you. He stepped out of his pants and boxers, leaving you on a nearly even playing ground. His fingers made their way to your hips, to the hem of your underwear to start pulling them down and the way your skin was so cold was startling. You'd always been freezing to the touch, but it made him feel guilty that you'd been stripped of any warmth besides his fingertips. “You're basically shivering, angel."

“You're burning up, so I'll be okay." It was true, the way your body temperatures aides the others had felt like another way you were made for each other. So slowly he'd pulled the panties off your body until they hit the floor as everything else had. Without another word your lips had crashed onto his which he used as an opportunity to slowly guide you towards the bed while you were lost in the feeling of his lips. He laid you down as your hand on the back of his neck dragged him down with you.

He took the opportunity to slide his fingers into your core and reveled in the feeling of you moaning into his mouth. A sound he hadn't heard in so long that it rang in his ears like music, a symphony that he could listen to for days. “You're so perfect." He muttered through the seconds you pulled away for air. You laughed breathlessly, shaking your head, “Yes you are." Finnick reiterated, thumb finding your clit causing another moan into his mouth the moment your lips had reattached to his. “Melodic to my ears angel, so perfect." Your hands tugged at his hair and he couldn't suppress the groan that came out.

"Love you so much, Finn.” The way you talked through the whimpers every time he added more pressure to your bundle of nerves made him an obsessive man. Your lips had become swollen from your prevalent addiction to his mouth, but you didn't seem to care, whining when he pulled his head just out of reach, trying to tug him back down.

He began thrusting his fingers in faster, mesmerized, as he always was and would be, by the way your face contorted with pleasure. “Love you too, angel, love my wife so much." In his daze of fascination you were able to pull his face back towards your own, fingers knotting in his hair.

Your voice was airy as you smiled softly through small whines,"Your wife.” He felt the clear heat your face exuded when he pressed his forehead to yours, it felt like your souls were one.

"My beautiful, perfect, gorgeous wife.” Your lips raised just enough to steal another peck from him as he kept rubbing harsh circles onto your clit. For a while he became enraptured just by your sounds, he didn't know how long had passed as he took in every small whimper to the loudest moans that you tried to cover.

“Oh my god, Finn!" You writhed slightly, a tell-tale sign of how near you were to release.

"You close, sweet girl? You gonna come for me?” He does his fingers up, as well as the intensity of his circles. Lips meeting yours once again as you nodded, eyes scrunching closed.

“So, so close." He began kissing at your neck, beguiled by the somehow lingering smell of the ocean on your skin.

"Come on, you can let go for me, sweet girl.” His kisses trailed down to your chest once again, utterly addicted to leaving the lingering feeling of his lips wherever he could. Upon your release the climactic end of the symphony blessed his ears and he was certain that if it was somehow possible, it had certainly made him harder. "So good for me." He slid his fingers out of you, the need to taste you winning when he brought them to his mouth.

“Need you inside, Finny, please." Your hands lead his face back close enough to kiss as you tried to catch your breath.

“You sure you're ready, angel?” You nodded eagerly, legs lifting to cross around his torso, pulling him closer.

“Yeah. Are you?" Your voice was so sugary sweet and addictive, every part of you was, if he died he was sure every part of you would consume his senses first.

“Yeah." His hand moved to softly caress your face, moving small strands of hair that had begun sticking to it away. Carefully he lined himself up with your entrance, stroking your cheek before he slowly pushed himself in. The sounds of both of your moans mixed in the air, intertwined as your bodies were. “Feel so good, angel. Fits so perfectly, you were made for me, we were made for each other." It was true, he wouldn't be complete without you. He'd gone his whole life needing nothing more than you, in every sense of the way, you fit one another flawlessly. He felt so sensitive that he was scared he might already be on his way to the climax, which he only dreaded because of how close he felt to you when he was in the warmth of your walls. That you were as close as you possibly could be, yet he still longed to be nearer.

“Faster, please?" It was nearly incoherent as you babbled through your whines, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, as if you were still somehow trying to pull him in further. He happily obeyed your plea and sped up his ministrations, thrusting through his own climbing pleasure as he moaned. “Missed you so much, Finn. Can't live without you, you're-" Your own moans interrupted your train of thought and you took a moment to regain some type of verbal composure. “Only ever wanted you, only needed you. Meant to be." He was able to decipher your proclamations through the whines and over the sound of his own noises, it brought him ten times closer to feel so basked by your love.

“Not gonna let anyone hurt you ever again, I'm gonna take such good care of my wife. Promise." The security you both needed, that you both ached for and could only be guaranteed once the reign of Snow had toppled entirely. You looked ethereal, your face scrunched up with each noise you made, hair splayed out around you, eyes glazed over with adoration and pleasure. He was so hypnotized by the way love seemed to have filled every crevice of the room and whisped around that he barely even registered that he was at the very top of his climax. He'd let go at what felt so suddenly that he'd simply thrusted further inside of you as you moaned at your own release. It wasn't until the thrill had mostly passed that he remembered his own fears. “Shit, shit, shit.” He muttered as he pulled out of you completely.

You sat up almost instantaneously and he could feel the panic radiating off of you. "What, are you okay?”

You were so sweet. "Yeah, I'm fine, sweet girl. I just…" He trailed off, staring at you, wide-eyed, anxious to help at any indication something was wrong. For years, nearly a decade he had loved you, something that somehow seemed to be constantly, rapidly increasing. Besides all the troubles you'd both endured he knew there was nothing he would trade any of it for if he knew he could have you and now that life you both yearned for was just in grasp. Finnick had and would dedicate every second he could to sustaining that dream and keeping you afloat, and if he could do that, he could do the same if you did get pregnant. He sighed and leaned closer to you, “Nevermind, angel, just didn't pull out, but it's okay. We're so close to freedom I can taste it and I want a family with you so bad. Finally going to be able to have our perfect little family and perfect little life." He crawled into the bed near you, kissing your face.

“You really want a family with me?" Your eyes were wide with an adorable hope, like you hadn't really accepted that he really wanted to be with you. He scoffed like the doubt was ridiculous.

“Of course I want a family with you, my sweet girl, I married you." He pulled you as close as he could get you, foreheads pressed together once again, making his heart buzz with contentment.

You smiled before looking for reassurance once again, which he was happy to deal out. “And you're gonna stay with me, right? Never gonna be a part or split up again?"

With all the sincerity possible he caresses your face again, “Never gonna leave you again, I promise, angel." You were blissfully pleased with his answer and kissed him once again.

But maybe Snow was right, even if it was unintentional, Finnick Odair was a liar and he in some ways resented himself for it. Yet it felt like there was nothing else for him to do when weeks later he found out about the squad Coin was putting together and he was absolutely certain that regardless of the shared training, the promises, he had to be on that squad, and you absolutely could not be.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick couldn't remember the last time he'd be physically ill, but since you entered the arena, he'd spent every day fighting the nausea. The Capitol's medicine certainly helped, but when he got feverish he barely wanted to take the concoctions. No if you died, he'd let himself die of fever to be with you. This was all his fault for ever even breathing in your direction, for caring, and now he'd have to suffer for it. What kept him going was how he had to be presentable and therefore healthy enough to get you sponsors, to rally for you. So he downed the medicine and copious amounts of caffeine to try and stay awake, he couldn't risk missing anything regardless of the alliances supposed to keep watch when you slept, he knew how fickle those could be. He rallied harder than he ever had to keep the public opinion on your side, you were sweet, delicate, a hopeless romantic, trying to stay alive for love, so pure, naive, a princess being forced to slay the dragon. Per usual people gobbled up any word that fell from his mouth and the sponsors came when called.

Then the rain started and he prayed that the arena would flood, you could swim, you'd survive that way, but it didn't flood. Raindrops just pattered down as the temperature dropped and then in what seemed like a matter of minutes, a few days into the rain, you were sick. Never had he been so grateful to have withheld the money for gifts beforehand because now he could get you what you needed to stay alive. Your lips were turning blue and he felt like he was tripping over himself in anxiety to send it to you. The sound of the rain echoed in his ears as he desperately waited for the blanket to arrive. For you to be warm, to stay alive. That night was the first one he had let himself cry, where death felt so imminent that he was plotting ways to go with you.

You persisted, you were like that. He felt his spirits rise as you continued on, so smart, so resourceful. His stomach wasn't in complete knots until suddenly your facade was slipping. What the fuck were you doing? What the fuck were you saying?

“Seems there's a lot about you I don't know then.” Conway stood and stared at you, Finnick could feel the illusion cracking through the screen. It was never going to continue forever, but this was too soon.

You tried to be quick on your feet, to throw together words to save yourself. “I’m not saying that I want to, just that sometimes you have to do what it takes to survive. Even if it's difficult -”

Conway interrupted your attempted safe and in that moment Finnick's stomach dropped. “Untrue?" Fuck. Fuck him. Fuck himself and Conway and fuck your slip of tounge. The stress had clearly gotten to you and was messing with how articulate you usually could be with your words.

“Yeah, I guess."

Finnick couldn't help but start muttering out loud, “No, no, no, no, don't say that. Angel, please.” He felt like he was going to cry again, you were on the edge of a cliff and the rocks were cracking.

“I'm sorry if that upsets you, I'm just doing what it takes to get home." Of course you were, you were doing what you had to, like every victor had, but you shouldn't have said it. It definitely didn't help that the frustration was evident in your voice. There must have been a brick of lead in the bottom of his stomach. Now he could never be home with you. Conway knew, there was no way he didn't.

“It’s okay, I understand.” No he didn't. “It's just hard to come to terms with, when you remember that this is all designed to bring that out in us. To see the other side, not through rose colored glasses.” Then he kissed you and Finnick knew the tides had turned. You needed to catch on, you could not be the prey, not now. Say you have to pee and run. Dart to wherever you can and hide.

Yet you didn't, you stuck by his side, and didn't follow when he and the male tribute from 7 went off alone for a second as you all ate. Finnick felt numb as the two discussed how they would get rid of you and the girl from 7, eyes red and stinging as he stared at the screen. He was helpless, he could only hope you could get his telepathic message that you were in danger. You didn't and your death warrant had been signed.

He saw how disenchanted Conway was by you when you killed the girl from 2. How dare he be disgusted when you were doing exactly what you had too in order to survive. Finnick was screaming at you through the television when Conway led you away. Stay. Stay by the girl from 7, let her take out the threat of Conway. Don't go with him. It was so hard to watch, but he persisted because he had to make sure you were alive. Finnick despised the way Conway was luring you in, he didn't care if it was hypocritical, you needed to survive, to come back home to him. When Conway's lips crashed into yours as he pulled the knives, your only protection, out of your hands Finnick felt like he'd lost all grip on reality. He threw a glass at the screen which shattered with a resounding crash, bubbly liquid cascading across the room, but he didn't care. Not when you were being led straight to your death, a ticket to a train that kept you forever away from him on this Earth.

You appeared so innocent and trusting, but with a glance Finnick could tell how scared you were, that you knew something was no longer quite right. Then the foot tapping started and if Finnick's stomach could get heavier then it did, too obvious. Any chances of you being able to play the role of the naive ingenue were long gone because Conway knew what it meant too. Then you did as Finnick had begged you to do long before, you ran. Predator and prey. You ran, he chased. Conway's long legs gave him an advantage as he sprinted after you, calling your name out in the tense air. You tried to hurtle yourself upon the closest tree and Conway had pulled you down in seconds.

This was it, the end. Finnick could feel his eyes welling with tears as his yells intertwined with your screams of begging Conway to let you go. He didn't know when he did it, but the coffee table had been toppled over on the floor, objects scattered across the carpet. Conway spewed on and on about how he knew you didn't love him, your heart was clearly owned by another, and how he was getting back at you now. You fought like hell, trying to squirm your way out of his arms until a knife was firmly plunged in your side. The scream you let out was so gut wrenching that let himself crumple onto the floor. Knees pulled up to his chest, face wet with a steady stream of tears, he was so helpless, so broken to not be able to save you.

You, however, made the tides change when your hands, now covered in defensive wounds, sharply forced themselves into Conway's eye. He screamed, trying to cover it, and you'd instantly darted up. Suddenly there was light at the end of the tunnel again, you were so smart, you'd halted him long enough to grab the spear. Finnick held his breath until the cannon went off, you'd overcome it, and he hated that he'd doubted you would.

Regardless of the fact that there were two tributes left, part of the weight on his chest lifted. He knew the feeling of how adrenaline pushed through the body to get you through every kill to the victory when one was in the arena and he could see it in you. His eyes stayed glued to the screen and he felt like he was stuck to the floor. Fingers knotting into the carpet as he anxiously watched. Time passed agonizingly slow, it hadn't been long, but each second you were still in there was hell. A hell that burned his chest just as yours must have been was the girl from 7 was holding you under the water. Just hold your breath, don't panic, just keep holding it as long as you can. You were an excellent swimmer, you could do this. Your body flailed about, trying to break free, but the other girl was firm in her hold. He'd sink into the bathtub himself, go overfill it and drag his head under, force the instincts to hold his breath wouldn't kick in.

Oh how the Capitol would mourn but love the tragedy of every single lover dead. The story they would tell of how heart wrenching it was. A story that wouldn't be told because you'd found the spear and quickly thrusted it upwards. A cannon echoed. You'd won. You'd come back to him. He'd be yours. You'd be his. You'd be each other's. Tears of relief, of happiness racked through his body. Fate had granted you both more time, he would forever be indebted for it. He shot up from the floor, staring at you, “I'm gonna be with you so soon, angel, right with you. Never gonna leave." He'd do whatever he could to be with you as soon as possible, to hold you once again, it was exhilarating to know the work had not been in vain. He'd have to comfort you, console you, but it would all be worth it just to be with you once again. He couldn't even dream of ever leaving your side when he had you so securely back, the one person he loved more than life itself.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick thought he'd had plenty of preparation for how you might respond when you found out that he'd convinced Coin you weren't mentally stable enough yet to be on the squad. He'd done it to protect you, to make sure you were safe, but he needed to be involved. It felt like a no-brainer that he had to help really take the Capitol down, take Snow down. Your emotions made his skin bristle with cold, you were stormy, hurt, betrayed. Which he hadn't done, he responded, he'd done it to save you.

“How could you do that to me?" Your voice shook as you wiped away the tears creeping up in your waterline.

“Angel, I can't let you go out there and die. I'm just keeping you safe." He tried to get closer, if he could just touch you that could reassure you of his pure, loving intentions.

“You think I'm gonna be safe when you die out there and I'm stuck completely alone?"

“I won't die." His eyes were pleading and yours were full of a white hot rage he'd never had directed at him on full blast before.

“I went through all the same training as you, I am my own person, you don't get to make decisions for me.”

“I don't want to control you, I want to keep you safe." How could you not understand? He sighed and took a step closer, which you countered. "Honey, I don't doubt that you're getting better, but this is war and if something happens that makes you go off…” Like him dying, like you being out there with him when his soul left the binds of the planet. “You could be a danger to yourself."

“I’ll be a danger to myself here too."

“There are doctors here who can take care of you, sweet girl. Please, I love you and need you here." Finnick tried to ignore the pressure of tears building up.

“All they'll do is sedate me and I'll never recover. I have to go with you, Finnick, you can't let me rot away alone." You got closer, hands finding his face. He adored the feeling but he couldn't savor it when your eyes were digging into his, bargaining with the depths of his soul. Which would not bend, it couldn't fold to you, no matter how much he wanted to be attached to you for every waking and sleeping moment. You must have sensed this incoming rejection when your face became stony and your grip began to slip away.

He tried to pull your hands back towards him, to keep contact, “It's just a couple of weeks, then we'll be free. We can go home together, live our lives, and have our perfect family. Just one more thing I've got to do."

You fully pulled away and he grieved the loss of contact. "You're punishing me, for leaving you in the arena, you're trying to get back at me for it.”

He shook his head as quickly as he could, "No, I'm not. You were just trying to follow the plan, I don't have any grudge over that, sweet girl. You did what you had too.”

"Like how you're doing what you have too, now?” The air felt stagnant in the silence of the beat as you stared at each other. You stepped closer again, hands grabbing his arms, pleading. “I know I was terrible, that I'm terrible, but please don't punish me for it. Please, Finn, don't do this to me." His head ached, his heart ached, everything ached.

“You're not a terrible person, I love you, and you can't go."

“You promised me-" You choked for a second on the tears in your throat, “You promised you wouldn't leave me." He thought about how you'd done the same and hated himself for thinking it. That was the thinking you already assumed he had and that's what he had to fight against.

“I know and I'm sorry, honey. It won't be long." Once again you pulled your body away from his, you looked so betrayed that it felt like he'd been stabbed in the stomach. “I promise."

He felt like he watched something frightening click in your brain, “You promised last time too." Your voice was low before your hands started moving rapidly around while you spoke. “This is you trying to get into my head, they were right, but you're in my head instead. You're trying to psychologically get to me, oh my god, I get it now."

“No, no, no, no, no, no, honey, no. That's not real." Another step forward and you stumbled slightly as you quickly went backwards.

“Yes, you've been toying with me this whole time. That's why you keep pulling shit like this, you're trying to break me.” He was always digging himself into much deeper holes.

"Angel, I'm not. I'm trying to keep you safe. I swear, the stuff you're thinking, that's not true.” Your arms crossed around your chest. “This is why you can't go, this is dangerous."

“I'm not crazy!" You looked at the ground, shaking your head as the tears began falling.

He stepped closer, “Nobody's saying that, you're not crazy. I know that. You just need some more time."

“If I needed more time, why wouldn't you stay?" You pointed at him, “You are a fucking liar and I wish you'd just have killed me instead of playing mind games on me."

You moved around so frantically that he had no choice but to grab you and he wanted to die himself when you flinched and shrunk into yourself. “I don't want you dead. I'm keeping you safe, I know I lied, I didn't mean to and I am so, so sorry.” His own dam protecting him from tears had broken and he began to cry. "I will come back so we can be together forever because I love you, that's what's real. When I'm gone and you're confused, know for a fact that I love you.”

“You can't go. If you go, I have this horrible feeling something bad will happen. Please, Finn, just stay with me.” The way his chest squeezed with guilt was nearly unbearable.

"I have to go.” He whispered and the way you completely broke down made him wish he'd never gotten close enough to be the one who hurt you like this. He caught you before you hit the ground and held you close. "We have time, I've got you, sweet girl. It's okay.” He soothed, rubbing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth to try and call you down.

When it was finally time for him to, the doctors did have to sedate you. It left him with echoes in his ears of how pleaded with him and how you cried. The thought of how much he would really be betraying you if he died kept him going. Every step of the journey was thoughts of you, echoes of you. Wondering if you were still sedated and how he'd make it up to you when you could finally be together again. Free from the reign of the Capitol and together. At least you were safe in District 13, you'd be upset, but protected until the world was ready to stop reigning terror on the two of you. That was until Coin sent in the replacement members for the squad and Finnick was sure he would absolutely lose it when you and Peeta walked off the craft, straight into another set of trials and tribulations determined to tear apart his happiness.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all so much for reading and all the fun discussions we've been having about all the details, I love you all so much. as always likes, reblogs, comments, feedback is all very very appreciated. love you all so so much 💋

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Riddle, Rook: By Order of the Queen

I wrote this one during a very busy time for me irl so I apologize if I didn’t end off the Platinum Jacket line of imagines strongly 🙇‍♀️

A Tale as Old as Time.

A young girl, an older man, and an odd hare shared the same table. The latter two were sitting upon it, propping their feet on the cloth.

Pots of tea—each of a different design—did not match the cups. A mouse poked its head out of one, curiously staring at the girl. Bent spoons sat beside the saucers, gigantic sugar cubes floating in pools of tea.

Riddle stared at the painting intensely, picking apart the details, the rules being skirted or blatantly violated. The man and the hare are not in chairs, there’s far too much sugar in their drinks, and is there even jam properly smeared on that dormouse?

“Roi des Roses, what about this painting has captured your gaze so?”

He startled at the deep timbre at his ear, jolting back. His shoulders relaxed when he met a familiar face. His heart, still racing, was unable to be wrested under control.

Devious, tumultuous thing, the heart.

Riddle cleared his throat. “A roundabout way of asking for my opinion on this work, Rook-senpai.”

The grin the Pomefiore student wore stretched, reminding Riddle of his childhood days. Cheshire smiles and sugar-coated memories, tasting far sweeter than the hours he toiled at a desk.

“Ah, do forgive me for the sudden request! As an avid fan of art, I love to hear different interpretations of the same piece,” Rook rambled excitedly. “A painting that invokes joy in myself, for example, may bring about despair for you, or vice versa! The wellspring of human emotion, expression, and experience is just that vast.”

With an exasperated expression, Riddle folded his arms. “… Well, I was just thinking that I would never allow for this sort of behavior at an unbirthday party. It would be an affront to the spirit of Heartslabyul.”

And yet…

His chest ached so longing when he looked at the illustration. A taste that remained long after he tried to wash it down. It drew a word out of him, pulled thin.

“However… I must admit, I feel a little envious of their quaint little tea party. It looks…” He grasped for the correct adjective. “… fun.”

Rook’s brows sprung up. “Fun!”

“You disagree? Or does it perhaps surprise you that the rose-red tyrant would make such a remark?”

I know what they say about me. The thought was tinged bitter like medicine as he swallowed.

“Non, non.” Rook wagged a finger, his eyes half-lidded. “You are correct in every way!”

“I beg your pardon?”

The Pomefiore vice dorm leader placed a hand on his chest. “My immediate family is quite large and likes to keep busy. Those few precious times when we are able to steal away and sit down for a meal with one another… Those are the most magical of all.”

“We each fall into our seats and—like a match struck, the moment comes alive. Words and laughter flow like fine wine, enhancing the flavor of the food that touches our lips. The weariness of study and work melts away in the dishes and drinks, replaced with good company in a safe, warm haven.

Riddle squinted at his senior. Suspicious. “… What is it that your family does for a living again?” When met with Rook’s still dubious smile, he sighed. “Well, I suppose it’s fine so long as you’re not hurting anyone.”

“Fufufu. Roi des Roses, I see that you’ve considerably lightened your evaluation of the rules.”

Riddle made a pensive sound, not confirming nor denying. “Mmm. Lately I’ve come to a realization.”

“And what might that be?”

He hesitated. “That perhaps the world as I saw it is not as it truly is.”

It feels like waking up from a dream. Tendrils of it still clinging to him as he made to rub them from his eyes.

Rook silently nodded, watching him. Not the huntsman stalking his mark, but a silent observer.

“I wonder for just how long I’ve been living in that false reality. Seeing the tea party and thinking it a disgrace…”

Something slovenly. In need of fixing. Out of line.

Wrong.

“Ah, but—” Rook raised a finger, “what matters now is that the veil has lifted. The line between truth and lies is that much clearer to you. That is the first step to any story: the beginning.”

Then his hand fell and grasped Riddle’s.

“R-Rook-senpai…?!”

The man practically glowed, his grip firm. “Now the decision to stay on the path or to stray from it is yours.”

To renounce the party or to join it, given the invitationz

Riddle pulled himself away with a frown. “Of course, within the limits of what is acceptable,” he lectured. “A minimum level of decorum is expected, even at the most ‘fun’ of festivities. Should anyone cause a disturbance in the peace—”

He raised his arm, slashing at the air once, delivering a strong blow to an invisible victim. Riddle, in his element, brimmed with smugness, arrogant as an unchallenged queen.

“—it will be off with their head!”

Without an ounce of fear, Rook laughed and bowed his head. “As the queen commands, so shall I heed her orders,” he drawled. A tilt of the head, then came a suggestion. “And if I were to drop by an unbirthday party to observe?”

“Because you asked politely, I may consider it—but see to it that you attend as your normal self,” Riddle warned. “That means I expect you to be on time, your behind planted in a seat at the table. There will be no hiding out in the bushes, no watching us from a distance. You are to stay and engage in all manner of merrymaking with us.”

“Oh la la!” Rook feigned surprise, throwing both hands up in an exaggerated act. “Is that a rule?”

“No, but they are orders,” Riddle clarified with an all-knowing smirk. “After all, it would be a shame if you disobeyed and missed out on all the fun we shall have.”

[show-your-fangs]

Ooh are you still taking requests for Hotch? If so, I would like a smut fic with a plus size reader please! I always see stuff about how most fat people are self confident now, but that isn’t the case for me, maybe some reassurance from Aaron ? If you’re uncomfortable writing this or don’t want to, don’t worry about it!! 🤍🤍

hi gorgeous angel 🤍🤍 i hope i was able to deliver. i sprinkled a lot of smut because you deserve to be rewarded.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x plus size f!Reader

Words: 1.7k

CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni.

Tags/warnings: established relationship, self-concious/insecure plus size!reader, soft Aaron, a lot of reassurance, pet names (beautiful, gorgeous girl, darling), praise, oral (f receiving), basically Aaron eats you out to show you he's obsessed with you and your body.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

“No!” you screeched and he immediately stilled over you. 

Your heart was racing, your ears were hot with shame, the confidence that had led you here, to his bedroom, to his bed where you currently laid, splayed on your back with his tight, broad frame pressed tightly over you, evaporating at the mere thought of light. 

He had just leaned over you to turn his bedside table lamp on, to fill the room with soft light. He wanted to see you, wanted to get to witness every twitch, every shiver, everything he was about to make you feel.

He assessed the situation for a second, took in your heaving breaths which had turned from excited to terrified ones. He could make out the outline of your hands now fiddling uncomfortably with your fingernails.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” he asked, his hands slowly retreating from the lamp back to your body, to your hips where he gently began to draw circles.

“Can we…can we keep the light off?” you whispered, ashamed. “Please.”

You couldn’t see his face since the light from the hall was hitting his back in a low glow. But if you could’ve seen him, you would’ve caught the flash of sadness, of despair and hurt. 

He immediately understood why you were feeling this way, and yet he couldn’t help but get incredibly angry that you were. Not at you, however, never at you. It wasn’t your fault you were feeling this way, it was the fault of whoever had made you believe that you weren’t beautiful, that you weren’t desirable, that your body wasn’t perfect.

“Darling,” he started, his voice soft and gentle, kind and understanding. “You have the body of a goddess,” you winced then, and it unfortunately confirmed all of his suspicions. He truly was good at his job. It was eerie how he could read you so easily, so quickly, with nothing more than a single sound. “Please allow me to do right by Aphrodite and worship you like you deserve.”

Your mind was stunned into complete silence. The voice that had been screaming was now quiet. No one had ever spoken to you that way, with such sincerity and intensity that you couldn’t do anything but believe them, take them to heart, accept that he was telling you the truth.

He wanted you, desired you, found you irresistible, and who were you to deny him of what he wanted, who were you to deny your body what it craved. 

You slowly nodded, breath hitching as you felt him shift again, this time the action emphasized by the click of the lamp turning on. Warmth enveloped the room, but you didn’t register it fully. 

“Open your eyes, beautiful,” he purred. “Let me see you.”

You hadn’t realized you’d closed them until then. You took one more steadying breath, focusing all of your energy on his hands, on how warm they were against your hips, how they were gently and lovingly tracing circles over your love handles. 

You opened your eyes slowly, white specks of light fluttering as his beautiful face came into focus above you. He smiled brightly and you swore you melted right into the mattress. 

“There you are, gorgeous girl,” he praised. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You couldn’t help the blush that rose from your chest to your cheeks, a hot and adorable pink that matched the one on his. 

It was almost overwhelming to think that you had this effect on him, you made him blush, you made him smile so brightly you were afraid the sun would stop working, you made his heart beat so fast against his chest you were afraid it would break through. 

“I’m going to take off your pants, alright?” he asked gently, making sure to keep you comfortable as a priority, to take it at your pace, to go as slowly as you needed, even if all he wanted to do was jump you right then and there, bury himself so far inside of you that you forgot what you were even feeling self conscious about.

You nodded and his hands slowly slid down your body, delicate and soft, slowly and steady. He unbuttoned your pants, followed by the zipper, and then hooked his hands into the waistband. 

He looked back at you before he even began to pull them off and you nodded again, biting down on your lip out of habit. He slowly pulled your pants down your legs, the eye contact never faltering. 

You were feeling too much, the fire in your belly having spread to every part of your body. It was silly, silly to think that just by looking at you like you were the most beautiful person on the planet he could get you this hot and bothered. 

You’d always thought he was out of your league, nothing more than an unattainable dream, a crush that would lead nowhere. You knew his type, the athletic, runs marathons for fun, only eats lean protein with mountains of steamed vegetables with no seasoning type. And yet Aaron had managed to surprise you at every corner. 

He tossed your pants across the room, his hands now on your thighs. He ran them up and down like he’d done with your waist, diligently taking his time to feel, to commit every inch of your body to memory. 

He slowly opened your legs for him, to allow him to press himself flush against your core. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and he grinned brightly in response. 

“Can I eat you out, beautiful?” he murmured, the feeling of his hands, the feeling of his hot and hard erection pressed against your heat. You were practically panting, not really digesting his words fully. 

You nodded, the simple thought of the burning ache between your legs getting relieved enough to make you forget exactly what he had to get you there. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your belly button, distracting, as his hands opened your legs further, parting them for him to settle into them comfortably. 

He continued to trail kisses down your stomach, taking extra care of making it a point to linger, to hum and groan and make sure he was constantly letting you know just how much he’d been craving you. 

He sank down to his knees then and the sight nearly took you out. Your head strained to stay upright, to try and see him, your eyes unable to look away from him. 

But then he pressed his face against your clothed pussy, his nose practically rubbing over your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You fell back on the bed, hands wrapping themselves tightly around the duvet. 

“You’re soaking, gorgeous girl,” he groaned, his thumb teasingly running down your clothed slit. You whimpered, the anticipation already making you lose it, which was exactly what he wanted. 

He gingerly pulled your panties to the side, his eyes practically sparkling as he took in your glistening folds before him. He moaned then, not wasting another second before he dove in. 

His lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking before his tongue began to lap circles over it. You moaned loudly at his actions, the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth spurring him on. 

He ran his tongue down to your opening, teasing your hole before pressing it flatley against your slit and licking all the way back up to your clit. Your mind went blank at that, whatever thoughts remained, positive or negative, swiftly evaporating into the night. 

He repeated the action a few more times, getting into a nice, steady rhythm. Your moans had gotten more chaotic, wild, free. Your body started to tremble, to move in tandem with his tongue, to seek it out to search for your own pleasure. 

That’s when he pulled back, a needy whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact. He grinned, his tongue licking up the wetness around his lips before he swiftly sank two fingers inside of you.

And just like that your moans were back, filling his room with so much warmth it rivaled the heat from the lamp beside your head.

"So tight," he groaned as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you, making sure to curl them upwards inside of you to hit the spot he knew would make you come undone. 

He leaned back down to press a kiss to your clit, the puffy nub looking incredibly lonely, almost begging to be given attention. 

“You’re beautiful,” he stated. It was factual, matter-of-fact, veridical, never a question about it. 

You sighed deeply, his words still sounding foreign to you, as if you knew them to be true and yet could not yet believe them in their entirety. 

“Say it,” he ordered before his teeth bit down around your clit. 

You practically screamed, the shock forcing you onto your forearms to see him, to see what he was doing to you. 

“Say you’re beautiful,” he repeated the command as clearly as he could, tugging now, enough to make the pain just edge on the line to uncomfortable. 

“Fuck, Aaron,” you whined, hands desperately trying to push him away by his shoulders. But he stood his ground, challenging. “I’m–I’m beautiful, I’m beautiful, I’m– gonna cum please–”

His teeth let go of your clit, the final jolt of electricity perfectly in tandem with a twist of his fingers inside of you. You couldn’t stop yourself from exploding, the tightness finally snapping, flooding your own body with more warmth than you knew what to do with.

Aaron dove right back in, his fingers sliding out as his tongue replaced them, sinking into you to feel your walls constrict, to feel your essence wash over him like a tidal wave. He lapped all of your juices up, his tongue skillfully working you through your orgasm.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even register anything other than the beating of your heart in your ears and the deliciously painful sting of overstimulation that was starting to take over as Aaron swallowed all you gave him.

After your breathing had calmed, your heart returned to a normal pace, your eyes focused on the room around you once more, Aaron stood himself up from between your legs, his even more pronounced erection pressing into you once more, as if to show you just how much harder you’d made him. 

“Now, was that so hard?” he joked, a satisfied smile over his glossy lips.

"You have the body of a goddess. Please allow me to do right by Aphrodite and worship you like you deserve." will easily go down in history as once of the best lines of dialogue i will ever write.

now if y'all excuse me i need to go scream into my pillow.

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner

[prentissluvr]

finding warmth [ too cold pt. two ] — joel & tommy miller

gn!reader , fatherfigures!joel & tommy , ft ellie ! , angst, hurt/comfort , cw : heavy mentions of loss of loved ones , panic attack , maybe disassociation , nightmares , wc : 3.4K , pt. one here !

“there it is. jackson.” it’s four simple words and one single view from a cliffside that manages to take your breath away.

it looks like a paradise in the middle of this hell of a world, looking down upon it from here. the protective walls are high and vast, and the cluster of buildings looks lively, though you can’t even see the people of the town from this vantage point.

you can’t tear your eyes from it, finding yourself truly speechless.

“we’ll be there in no time. it’s even better up close.” you can vaguely hear the amusement in joel’s voice as he likely takes in your astonished expression. nodding, you find it in yourself to bring your gaze back to the man sitting in front you, sending him a grateful smile.

joel isn’t completely right, though, as for you, the remainder of the ride feels somehow like both the “no time” that he promised, but also one of the longest stretches of anticipation that you’ve felt in a long, long time. much like your physical state of hypothermia the day prior, you have become accustomed to an odd state of emotional numbness, where you feel nothing but a deep sense of hopelessness. the pain of loss never left you, but for long months now, it’s manifested in the horridness of nothing. so now, to be feeling so much is an odd sensation. half of you wants to push it away in favor of self-preservation. look where feelings have gotten you. but the other part of you tugs at it, trying to pull the emotions out from where they must have been hiding. part of you yearns for it. the anticipation, both anxious and almost excited. the gratitude. the foreign feeling of a spark of hope.

what joel is completely right about is the fact that this place is far better up close. the border is higher than you imagined, and the liveliness of people in the town once you’re let in is immediately apparent. there’s far more people than you would have thought, parents and children, siblings and even people growing old. it’s overwhelming, to say the least, but it’s wonderful regardless.

as your gaze sweeps through everything, trying to take it all in, you catch tommy’s eye, and he grins at you brightly. you can’t help but return a smile, however hesitant it may be.

as promised, you’re taken to the town doctor right after dropping the horses off at the stable. you do your best not to shy away from him, wanting to stay hidden behind the two brothers who brought you here as you had on the walk over. but, you don’t have to stay long, as the doctor explains that, with joel and tommy’s help, you’re well on the mend. all he tells you is to continue to stay bundled up and avoid going outside too much.

but that brings you to your next issue. where do you stay to avoid the cold… to settle down? it seems most people aren’t alone here, and you can’t imagine it's easy for anyone to have an unknown teenager crashing in one’s home.

tommy’s kind voice quickly pulls you out of your worried thoughts, unintentionally answering your unspoken, anxiety-fueled questions. “we’ll look for a more permanent space for you to stay in, but for now, we thought you could stay in joel’s spare room for now. that sound alright to you?”

“of course,” you confirm, relieved to hear that you’ll be able to stay with someone familiar, at least for now. “thank you,” you mumble slightly as you speak.

“sure thing, kiddo. you should know that i live with another kid around your age. she’s a little,” joel pauses, searching for the right word, “fiesty,” he decides on, “but she’ll show you around town.”

“if either of them get too annoying,” tommy refers to his brother and this girl he lives with, who you’d assume to be his daughter, but he never said anything about that like one normally would, so you let that thought slide, focusing in on tommy’s playful tone, “then you can come find me right across the street. my wife’ll knock some sense into them,” he chuckles. you return a small laugh, grateful for his willingness to joke around in attempts to make you feel more comfortable.

but you can’t bring yourself to open up like him, so you settle on what you hope is an amicable, “alright,” using the single word as an acknowledgement to both joel’s previous statement and tommy’s joke.

by the time you’re settled in joel’s spare room, it’s almost time for dinner, the sun dipping lower and lower by the minute. sitting on the edge of the ricketty twin sized bed, a luxury you haven’t had in who knows how long, you replay your introduction to ellie.

something had felt a little bit odd, almost as if she were the one that felt protective over joel. she wasn’t mean, per se, but she hadn’t felt the most welcoming, as if she were wary of you and what your presence could mean. you couldn’t blame her, though, you agreed one could never be too careful in this world. she did seem to relax when joel told her you’d only be staying with them temporarily. another thing you couldn’t figure out was their relationship. they acted like family, father and daughter, but again, those words were never said. she only called him joel.

that was another thing you easily let slide, though, silently understanding. you knew what it was like for someone who shared none of your blood to be more like family than anyone who technically was. and you knew what it was like to lose them, so you couldn’t blame ellie’s hesitation at joel bringing in some random, shivering kid like yourself who’s clearly relying on him.

you begin to wonder if it would have been better to stay with tommy, but you remind yourself he’s probably busy with his wife and baby. there was another thing that astounded you about this place. he has a baby. and that baby is safe here, has a chance to grow up in a way kids haven’t for more than twenty years. almost normal, or what used to be normal. of course, you’d know nothing about that. your normal, what you know is ellie’s normal, is fear and caution and limitations.

now suddenly, impossibly overwhelmingly, there’s so much more for you. people who have thus far proven good in their intentions, who have cared enough to protect you, help you. there’s safety surrounding you, and in that, an inch of freedom to have things. here, kids go to school, and, according to joel, it’s nothing like fedra school. they have a library, for god’s sake. as you walked past it, tommy told you that it’s really quite small, nothing like what they used to have. but it’s gotta be more than you’ve ever had access to.

it’s amazing. so much so, it’s almost too much. too much to process how much your life has changed in just days, how much easier you thought it would ever to have a sense of hope crawling its way back up your throat. 

there’s a knock on your door, and someone clears their throat from the hallway.

“come in,” you said, hoping there’s nothing on your face that betrays how much you’re thinking about right now.

the door creaks open, just enough for joel to poke his head in. “thought we could go grab some dinner? just realized we didn’t feed you all that well on the way over.”

“sounds great.” you hadn’t realized either, used to the hunger. but at the mention, or rather the promise of food, you can’t help but water at the mouth. 

i’m starving, you realize, and maybe for more than just food.

—

out of everything wonderful and new, your favorite place is by far the mess hall. that’s part of the reason why you’re so delighted when ellie invites you to go to lunch with her. that and the fact that, for the past two weeks, you’ve been juggling with the idea that maybe she hates you.

of course, that’s not fair of you to think, and you know it, especially not as she’s begun to warm up to you the past few days. you feel as though you understand at least a little bit why she hasn’t been as warm to you as tommy and joel have been. but you can’t help yourself in wanting her to like you. she’s similar in age to you, and she seems enjoyable to be around with the way she teases joel about whatever she can and makes him cringe with bad jokes.

so yes, you may feel a little overly excited when she knocks on your door and asks if you want to go grab lunch together. of course, you don’t act out half as much as you feel, feeling consistently better staying quiet and edging on unreadable. but, you still shoot her a small smile as you accept her invitation, even if you feel like she may be saying it just because joel asked her to.

you don’t care though, happily trudging along to the mess hall, excited for both food and the opportunity to make ellie like you just a little bit.

when you sit down, plates full of food, the conversation is a little bit awkward, but it’s there nonetheless. she asks you about how you feel about jackson, and you try not to let on how complicated everything feels in your head.

but it seems she picks up on a hint of all the things you’re not saying, and that seems to make her open up a bit more.

“i know it’s a lot coming here after… yknow, all the shit out there. it’s great, but it’s still strange,” she starts. “might sound crazy, but i still feel out of place here sometimes,” she admits.

you nod, taking in her words, grateful for her assurance. “yeah. it is weird,” you agree.

she mirrors the same shake of your head. “so, uh. if you ever need any help finding your way or anything…” she clears her throat as if she’s unsure of her words, “you can ask me,” her voice quickly returns to the confidence and playfulness it normally holds, “that way you don’t have to rely on crabby old dudes like joel and tommy.”

you let yourself laugh at that. “thank you,” you smile, hoping she can see how much you mean it.

the rest of the meal flows far more easily than you expected, the conversation turning to more casual subjects. she even cracks one of her awful jokes, but you can’t bring yourself to complain about it because for some reason it feels like it means something. not much, but something, like she sees you as someone she can share a part of herself with, even if it’s small. so when she makes the corniest joke you may have ever heard, you just grin and cringe a little. and that makes her laugh, which makes you smile harder.

so maybe that’s why, walking down the streets back home, she feels more like a friend than the stranger you met not too long ago.

that’s when the foreign feeling of contentedness—the one that’s just begun to try and seep into your thawing heart—is ripped away, as if it’s a leech sucking up your once constant caution.

all it takes is the poorly timed yell of a name along with a shrill shriek to take your breath away. this time you’re not in awe of the safety of this place. this time, you’ve been taken back to the most dangerous of your memories.

you freeze in place, so silent that ellie doesn’t even notice that you’re not walking with her for a moment. she stops in her tracks, turning back to you with a confused expression. but by the time she’s back in front of you, asking if you’re okay, her voice is already distant.

you’re trying to explain to yourself what happened. someone yelled that name, but it’s not her. her name, yes, but not her. she’s dead now. and the scream. that came from a playing child, one you’re sure was just too excited by a game of tag. 

but it’s no use, not when you’re already too far gone, with flashes of bloody fighting and echoes of horrified screams battering your senses and detaching you from reality. all you know is that you’re fighting to breathe, and you feel as though you’re drowning right out in the open.

you stumble forward, and you’re vaguely aware of ellie leading you to a pole to lean on. she’s trying to tell you that you’re alright, but your memories drown out anything she says. another blurry figure appears in front of you, and somehow when he calls your name, it cuts through your senses, crystal clear.

“you’re alright,” he says, such assurance filling his voice that it almost convinces you too. then you’re able to think, it’s tommy. “you’re safe here. you’re not there anymore.”

you gasp at his words, reaching out to him with the hand not gripping the pole. immediately, he steps closer, and your hand latches onto his upper arm while his softly holds your elbow. in the back of your mind it feels unnatural for you to fall into his embrace the way that you do, but the part of you that craves comfort takes over in this moment. he’s warm and his shoulders are broad, and it’s as if his presence blocks out everything else. that’s what lets your mind quiet, your breathing even out.

when you part and he wipes gently at your tears for just a quick moment, that’s when embarrassment hits. you feel more than awkward, and a little uncomfortable with this sort of display of vulnerability, and yet a piece of you still embraces the thought of allowing the results of it into your life. you already crave his embrace again, you know you’ll want it when the nightmares come.

but nonetheless, you put your head up high and try to keep your voice firm as if to convince everyone that, yes, you’re alright and you’re no longer weak. in reality, you still feel shaken. it’s been a while since you’ve relived that night like that. it seems that letting go of your numbness brings back everything, including the most unwelcome.

back in your room, cooped up there even as the sun begins to set, you battle with yourself. you don’t want to let go of the things that you’re finding along with the warmth that’s beginning to replace the cold that had settled in your bones. but you don’t want to have anything to lose. when you’re warm, there’s always the chance to lose it, never safe from blizzards or blades.

you know practically that it’s far safer here than anywhere else, that here you have the best chance of holding onto something and having it stay heavy in your hands.

but you ignore it all when ellie knocks on your door, then when joel calls out to you from the hallway, asking for you to come out and have dinner with them. and you fall asleep thinking that it’s best if tommy never hugs you again, if you never share the saddle on a horse with joel another time.

—

and yet, you were right in your prediction; that when the nightmares came, you’d crave to be held in arms that felt like they cared, the very same way you had been months and months ago before you lost it all.

that’s the scariest part, waking up in a cold sweat, your heart beating a million miles an hour, and realizing that no matter what happens, no matter how much you lose and tell yourself you’ll never let anyone caring for you mean anything, you still want to be held. because you’re afraid, you’re bewildered, and you can’t remember where the hell you are. but you know someone outside of that door cares and that’s what pulls you out of the bed and into the hallway, stumbling and out of breath. you’re not even sure who, or why, but the people you loved most just died in your dreams, so you don’t care. maybe it’s them, maybe it’s all just a nightmare. you dare to hope and it seems as though that’s always your fatal mistake.

firm hands on your shoulders make you jolt in surprise, then fear. the hoarse scream that follows startles you too until you realize the sound came from your own mouth. there’s a gruff voice, saying your name softly, hushing you, telling you you’re alright. it’s not them, you realize. and they are dead. they have been.

“joel?” you croak out, half sobbing as he comes into focus. you hadn’t realized before, but your hands cling to fistfuls of his sleeping shirt.

“i’m here, it’s me. you’re alright. everything’s alright, kiddo,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it, but it still retains that firmness that begins to ground you. but you shake your head as he pulls you into his chest, grieving for things that you lost all over again. he sighs like he knows what you mean. you suppose he does though, because it’s hard to meet someone who hasn’t lost something they never thought they could. so instead of lying and saying that it’s fine, he says, “i’m sorry,” and you know that he is, but not in the way that stings and makes you think, you have no idea. the tone of his voice tells you he has every idea, knows it all, lost it all.

and so it feels less pitiful to cry into his arms, even when you know that ellie came out of her room after your scream woke her up. even when your chest still wars at you, yelling to pull away, to run away, as far as you can. that you’re not allowed to have this anymore, all for the same reason as before; you can’t lose nothing. but you know that you hate having nothing, and that there’s something right in front of you, all around you, that’s being offered up like warm food on a silver platter. and when you’re hungry and cold, there’s nothing wrong, no, there is everything right in taking the offer and saying thank you.

so you do.

“thank you,” you whisper into his chest as your tears begin to subside, and in that moment you don’t know that he wishes there was a way to say “of course,” and have you know just how much he means it.

“course,” he says simply, and it makes you sigh into his embrace so he feels a little better about it, because you’ve relaxed in his arms just a bit. even as you’re no longer crying, he lets you stay there, he doesn’t want to take away his warmth without you being ready to part first. so he waits and eyes ellie’s door, knowing she left it slightly open in case you need anything, and knowing she’ll want his reassurance that she’s still his after seeing you in his arms. but the crack in the door still tells him she cares enough about you to let him take care of you first.

so he does.

he rubs your back, and lets the air be silent, quiet just for you. and when you pull away from him, just a little, he takes a small step back and puts a hand on your back to guide you back into your room. he pulls the covers up when you climb in bed and doesn’t say anything he knows you don’t want him to. all he tells you is that he’ll be right back with a cup of water and a snack for you. and when comes back, he just sets it on the bedside table for you, and doesn't push you to eat or drink. when he makes his way back to your door, he stops in the frame and tries to sound like it's normal to tell you to come get him if you need anything, and that there’s no shame if you do. 

he just wants you to know he’s there to help. luckily for you, and luckily for him, you do know, and you try to fall asleep with that weighing on your heart. you want to accept that the weight is far better, far warmer, than nothing.

—

thank you for everyone who asked to be tagged !! i hope you all enjoy part two as much as, if not more than, you did part one !! @taraiel , @lizlil , @your-shifting-gurl, @thetiredtoad0-0, @groggygrogu, @ackermanbitch, @midgetpottermills, @lovelyygirl8, @s0upm1x, @imonmykneessir, @cozyphine [ bold i couldn't tag ! ]

i won't be doing a part three but i likely will do drabbles from this universe later !! <33 thanks for the love on part one <33

[matan4il]

Buddie 616 meta

Maybe I’ll start with Eddie confirming something I’d already discussed in my meta posts more than once before, most recently in my 614 meta, which is that he married Shannon because she got pregnant. He heavily insinuated this to Bobby back in 217, but now he said it explicitly, to everyone, and without the same kind of weight which we saw from him in the past. I think this change is indicative of how he IS healing from the trauma of how badly his marriage failed and how guilty he’s felt over it, now that he’s capable of talking about it more lightly than he did before. I love that for our boy. ~~

Speaking of these men actually being boys, moron husbands, partners in dumbness, we got Buck and Eddie sharing one brain cell and NOT putting it to good use. Even though in the overall scheme of 911 things, that might not seem that significant, I have to say I just love seeing them like that. It’s FUN seeing them being morons who support each other in the way they try to deal with Chim thinking that just popping the question to Maddie is enough, or in Eddie supporting Buck’s dumbass suggestion of a flash mob, or just being pressed together in the fire truck ‘coz they never have any personal boundaries with each other and they don’t understand why those would even be needed (seriously, don’t think too long about how all of a sudden five people had to squeeze in the back instead of four, and OF COURSE it would be Buck and Eddie rubbing thighs together, because no other pair out of the whole team is as comfortable with each other’s bodies). This may not be the deepest part of their bond, but it IS a part of it, a consistent one, the daily partnership that’s the foundation for the big, important, profound parts. ~~

Once again, we get a demonstration of how the way Buck and Eddie are with each other is different to how they act with their other friends. Even when Eddie is exasperated with Buck, he never actually gets upset, he just tries to get Buck to focus, like we saw him in 516. But with Ravi, Eddie does kinda snap.

Buck as well, when he hears some unpleasant truths about Madney from Hen, there’s no fondness underlining their talk, as much as we know that they DO love each other and have a sibling-like relationship. But compare that to how insufferably affectionate the glances that Buddie exchanged in 504 were as Eddie did essentially the same thing for Buck. ~~

And then of course, we see how Hen has Chimney’s back in this ep, putting his well being first, but she does end up hurting him. They talk it over, and within the same ep she apologizes, he forgives her, everything is resolved, and they move. It’s lovely, but think about the difference in intensity between this and what Buddie went through back in s3. Buck files the lawsuit that would stop him from seeing Eddie in 304. Then the very reserved Eddie has a public meltdown, in the middle of a store, and right in front of his colleagues, because he can’t deal with Buck not being in his life. In fact, that’s the final straw that makes Eddie turn to street fighting. Not only that, because the intensity of his feelings overwhelms him, he doesn’t even directly express his hurt, he uses Chris to convey how much Eddie himself is missing Buck. When Buck realizes just how much pain he unintentionally caused, he wants to apologize, but Eddie is too hurt to be able to hear him out right away. It’s only in 306 that they finally talk, Eddie forgives Buck and then we get the beauty of their hug. But this is STILL not the final piece, no. The show will get back to this in the kitchen scene in 309, where Buck shows Eddie he’s worth apologizing to a second time (even though he’s not even asking Buck to), and the final shot of this is the domestic image of Buddifer on the couch, playing video games together. This is when we know that all is TRULY forgiven, when we get to see them once more as a family unit. Because that’s what they are on top of being best friends, like Hen and Chimney. ~~

I’ll point out that Madney and Buddie paralleling is not new. This has been an ongoing theme since Buck and Chim’s new love interests were both introduced in 201, and since Madney got their onset in 206. The very fact that Maddie thinking Chim’s cute is revealed through a dialogue between the Buckley siblings that also indicates Buck sees Eddie in the same light says it all. I have also gone on about how Buck and Maddie served as truth tellers, voicing their sibling’s crush back to them, I have talked about how Madney were friends first, incredibly domestic friends with their own intertwined routine, before they became explicitly romantic, I wrote a whole meta post about the parallels between Madney and Buddie in 512, and now I can add to this. Because Madney easily fell into the comfort of domestic life, Chim told us this week that got in the way of them stopping to make their commitment official. That’s in a sense Buddie’s story, too. They’ve been building their lives and family unit together without even clocking that they can and should stop to figure out what this thing between them is, and commit to it.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ ~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ I’m so thankful to the amazing @whosoldherout​​ for the meta gifs she does each week! They’re always challenging, and you always manage to knock it out of the park!

~~ Thank you to anyone supporting these meta posts. I could never express enough how grateful I am and that they continue to exist thanks to you!

[cheesus-doodles]

I’m definitely being greedy by sending a second but I had to share this… In the Manila timeline where Izzy wins, how would his relationship with reader change? But also, since we know Mikey is under his control at this point, would he let Mikey stay in contact with the reader??

UGHH JUST THINKIN ABOUT THAT MAKES MY SOUL ACHE 😭😭😭 HED have both of them on puppet strings… I’m so curious…

send as many as you want anon hehe, always happy to talk about Izzy!

Masterlist

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I did somewhat explore this in my Red Dragonflies AU, specifically latest chapter Swallow the Sun *cough*, but since that was in the circumstance of you being a former gang leader yourself, I'll write this one of you from the POV of you being a regular civilian!

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The main difference in Izana's relationship with you is that there would be no reason for him to have to break you and your spirit to keep you with him after he wins, so he doesn't. He actually likes you and all your personality, whatever it may be, and would very much want to keep you as you were when he first fell heads over heels, so with you being unable to fight back against him and his comparatively monstrous strength and instincts, there were much better ways to keep you in line.

Even as a yakuza boss himself, it would be rare for you to ever be allowed to leave his direct eye line no matter what Izzy’s doing in the moment, and if you do, you would only do so only when accompanied by Kakucho. No one else. If neither men are free, that you're staying exactly where you are right by him. Izzy simply can't trust anyone else as far as he can throw them, not with someone as precious and dear to him as you.

Puppet string would be the right description for what would be your relationship with Izana. There will be no decisions that you would have to make outside of what to wear (if Izzy hasn’t already made up his mind what he wanted to see you in), and what to cook for him for meals - everything else in your life has already been decided for you. Truly, you would be no more than a doll that doted and pampered and fawned over Izzy to patch the hole in his heart. He needs your love and attention more than anything, and now that he had you, you were not going to be doing much except tending to his needs.

Of course he didn't like to see you in pain and anguish - you were his darling, his princess - but after losing Shinichiro all those years ago, he couldn't lose you as well.

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And that extended to losing you to Mikey. Mikey plays a different role, filled a different hole in Izana's heart - he was supposed to be his Shinichiro replacement. If the two of you had been friends previously, then there was no way in hell Izana would ever let you meet Mikey again. Ever.

For one and most importantly, you are his world, his Sun, and he is your Izzy. You were his. You didn't need anyone else but him, let alone Mikey. He would never give you the opportunity to form an attachment to anyone but him.

For two, Izana needed Mikey to stay in that depressed state to be able to control him. And if Mikey was allowed to meet you, all that hard work might be undone - he and Kisaki had already put so much effort into completely breaking Mikey down to turn him into Shinichiro, and there was no way that he was going to risk you giving any sense of hope or comfort to the former Toman President that would let him break out of his misery.

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So the answer would be that no. Absolutely not. You would never be allowed to stay in contact or even see Mikey.

Since the two of you were forcibly separated after Izana's win and Mikey started on his downward spiral, Mikey has never received any update on you and where you were - for all the blond-haired boy knew, you could have already been dead. Izana definitely played heavily into this, making references to you all the time but never confirming if it was you he was talking about. And after a while of the mind games, no doubt Mikey would have given up all hope on ever seeing you again.

Similar to what he does to Mikey, Izzy would also tease and dangle the promise of bringing you to meet the ex-Toman President in front of you as one of the tactics he uses to keep you in line, whispering to you all sorts of things about your former friend. That he was depressed, that he spoke constantly about missing you and if you were dead, that he couldn't go on without you. Lies, but what would you know?

Izzy lamenting that he wants to bring you to go see and even speak with Mikey, but you were so ill-behaved that this tanned man didn't know if he can trust you. Would occasionally gift you photographs of Mikey just to convince you that the other was still alive, but always just a bit out of reach - the photos would never have his face, just his side or his back, or it would be a blurry shot.

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After all, his life’s just perfectly right at the moment, so why would he risk ruining it all?

[nicolesainz]

You belong with me (MM7)

Mason Mount x f!reader

Author’s note: I am in the middle of a Charles Leclerc fic and studying for exams and yet at 11 at night all I am willing to do is write a fic about Mase. So here you go! It’s a very simple plot from Mason’s POV.

Summary: You indeed belong with him, you just haven’t realized it yet. Mason has been trying everything and when the perfect opportunity arises, he is willing to take it up and make you his.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, minor violence, soft in the end!

She is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. There is no one else in this world that I would want to make and call ‘mine’. If I had a lamp with a genie inside, my only wish would be to let me love her unconditionally.

It’s a pity she won’t let me love her. She’s in search for the love of a man that doesn’t even want her. Even worse, can’t provide her the love I can and am willing to give. I feel sick to my stomach knowing her heart has been engraved with his name instead of mine.

Y/N and I have been best friends before we could even talk. As babies our eyes and childish giggles would do the trick. As we were growing up, our relationship became stronger and we were attacked to the hip. She’d beg her mother to stay over at my house and I would beg my mom to stay over at her house.

We would never sleep. We would talk endless hours about what we want to do in life. What we want to succeed in. What our lives would be in 20 years time.

“I will be playing for Chelsea one day and I will win the Champions League. I promise you.” I said as a young boy, hopping on my bed, with a dream and passion to motivate me.

“You will be a superstar one day, Masey. And I will always be by your side to cheer for you.” Y/n replied, looking up to me, with a massive smile plastered on her face and her bubbly eyes admiring me.

Y/n did keep her word. She’s been present to all of my games. Whether those were in London, in Holland or other parts of the world, she has been truly my biggest fan. At winning games and losing games, she’s stood by me like no one else has or will ever do so.

Every goal I scored was dedicated to her. My celebrations would vary but a small heart would always be included. If I ever forgot the heart celebration, I would go up to the camera and mouth an ‘I love you’ to the screen so she would see it.

A lot of people in high school believed that we were dating. I would’ve loved to confirm those rumors, although y/n’a undying love for the nerd, tall boy in our class would ruin everything I wished for. He was expressionless and would simply smile like an idiot to her whenever they had a small conversation.

The moment we stopped sitting next to each other my blood would boil every time I caught him looking at her. I would send her small paper notes to keep her distracted from his presence. At times, I wasn’t able to go to class because of games or practice so for the entirely of the time, she would occupy my thoughts and I would ask her other friends if anything happened.

Till this very day, the only person that truly knows how deeply in love I am with y/n, is Declan. And I think he’s kind of sick hearing me blabber about how I would gift her the world, the planets and the night sky full of stars just to be with her.

“I know you love her mate but you’re clearly not what she wants.” One day Declan hit me with the realization that I may not be the boy she loves. And it was partially true. I wasn’t. Not until the perfect chance popped up.

It was Valentine’s Day and coincidentally Y/n birthday as well. Everyone in our class knew so her nickname in high school was Mrs. Cupid. They said that she could have whoever she desired. And yet this never happened. The idiot she loved was a scared man who couldn’t handle the portions of love she was showering him with.

It was our class reunion after almost 10 years. Me and y/n knew about the whereabouts of some old classmates so seeing them again would be like a casual hang out. Other hand lost touch so we would be seeing them again after years. Y/n would also be faced with the asshole she had been pinning about.

“How do I look Mase?” She appeared in front of me with a golden sparkly top and a black skirt that was perfectly showing off her figure. Her hair was let down in soft summery curls with lips more red than Manchester’s color. My heart started thumping so fast, I could run a marathon and come back without a hint of sweat. She’s so majestic.

“You’re beautiful darling.” Was all I said with a soft smile on my lips, even though I hid all my true thoughts for her appearance.

“Oh why thank you Mr. Mount. You are very handsome yourself.” I blush at her sweet words. She has an effect on me which I do not try to hide. Unfortunately I know that the reason why she is so insanely beautifully dressed is because he will be there. She would love to have another try. Maybe a final one.

"Shall we get going? You will start getting annoyed with your heels very soon so better be sat than sorry." I point out trying to clear my head from all the intrusive thoughts.

"Oh yes, plus you've got a game tomorrow. We have to come back early." She grabs her purse and we make our way out of her house. I drove all the way to London with my clothes for the party and for the game tomorrow after training so I could be with her from the moment we enter the club.

"You can stay in the party if you like, I will come and pick you up whenever you want me to." I suggest her by letting her get closer to what she desires but instead letting my desire fly away.

"No influence in the world has a priority against you. We will come back home when you call so. I won't risk your sleeping schedule for my silliness." Y/n takes my free hand into hers and caresses it softly. She keeps making it very difficult for me not to maneuver back the car, lock her in her room and shower her with kisses and tell her how much I love her.

"For now let's go have some fun. It will be nice seeing all the faces of our old classmates."

Most of them still live in London. It was me and three other people who lives far away in different cities. Once we arrived at the bar that we had booked, y/n held my arm nervously and I kissed her forehead, wanting to calm her down. She had no reason to worry. Everyone who knew her loved her. It was only him who couldn't love her like she wished.

When I opened the door and our old classmates noticed us, they all ran towards y/n, giving her hugs and compliments about how beautiful she looked. Some of the boys came up to me and greeted me with a few shakes and congratulations for the transfer to Manchester.

As we reached the barline, he was there talking to some of his old friends and y/n eyes immediately widened from worrying. He looked the same to me, I hadn't noticed anything different. I decided to go up to him and chat a bit, given that for y/n to ease there must be a familiar face in presence.

"Look at that, Mason Mount. How are you dude?"

He suddenly got all arrogant or what? He was a quiet, forgettable and tall boy in high school, what changed all of a sudden?

"Good, good. Settling the in the new life in Manchester. How about you?" I try not to sound as pissed as I may look. I eye him up and down once more trying to understand what difference there is.

"Travelling the world every other weekend, I am exhausted. You get the feeling? Home and away games?" Oh he gained soo much confidence over the years that he got annoying as well.

"Definitely, I agree. So what do you do that requires so much traveling?" Last time I remember he wanted to become a driver but god knows if that could get him anywhere at the age he was.

"I work for Mercedes, as their development driver for Formula 1." I almost chocked on my drink. So he did make it as a driver, almost.

"That's amazing. Good for you mate." That's what gave him all the confidence he has I suppose.

"So what about you and y/n, finally got together? I saw her holding your arm, I assumed you're dating." A smirk formed above his eyes, which made my eyes twitch a tad.

"She's my best friend. So no, we are not dating." I so would have loved to say otherwise even if that meant I had to lie, but I couldn't. It would be wrong for y/n.

"Damn, still haven't given up Mount? I admire your determination. If she was as hot as she is now back in the day, I would have made my move." If he utters another word he will die on the hill and I will be arrested but for the sake of y/n I wouldn't care.

"She's always been extremely beautiful. You were just trying to figure out whether you have a dick or not so your focus was on something else." I got a lot of pats on the back and a lot of 'fuck dude' echos in the background.

"If you are so desperate to try and get into her pants why haven't you flashed at her the trophies and the money? Easier path than trying to sway her with your undying love confessions." I couldn't control myself when he said those disgusting things so my only response was to punch him in the face and throw my drink on him as well.

"You don't deserve an ounce of the love she has for you. You don't deserve the charming smiles you would have woken up next to. You don't deserve anything good, fucking piece of shit." He got up immediately and punched me in the gut with all his strength. I stopped breathing with how my lungs were pressed and all his friends were trying to block him from punching me again.

"Who told you I wanted her to like me in the first place? There's a reason why I never asked her out. You can have all her pathetic emotions for yourself. She still begs for someone she liked since high school. You're a goddamn footballer, why are you so obsessed with her?"

When I finally got up on my feet again and gained my senses, I grabbed his collar before anyone could hold me back from going up to him and gave him a deadly look, as if this would be the last time he was breathing and not coughing blood.

"I loved and will continue to love her no matter what. I do not want anyone else and I am willing to compromise for the sake of her happiness. I was tired of watching her chase your pathetic ass when I could have given her all the love she desires. You can have anyone you like but your time with her is over." As I realised that I said that out loud in public, I turned around to see a fully crying y/n, trying to control her sobs and clear her vision.

Her lower lip was quivering and her eyes were on my hands as I was still holding his shirt very violently. I looked deep into her eyes, although she refused to give me even a single glimpse. I had fucked it up majorly.

"Let him go Mason." Her voice has no emotion in it. More blunt than ever. There was no 'Masey' or 'Mase'. It was stern cold. I did as I was told and turned back to face her full blown red cheeks and lips with smeared lipstick. What had I done?

"I am so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have had, but I..." I couldn't finish my sentence as she walked away from the scene and I immediately run after her. No way in hell I was going to stay back.

"I didn't mean to hit him. He was literally asking for it. If you could hear what he said about you, it was horrible. I couldn't just stand there and let him talk so disrespectfully about you." I never let anyone talk in a mean manner about my girl. Even Conor who once called her 'hot' I almost kicked his leg on purpose in practice.

"Did you mean what you said at the bar? Or was this just a show?" I couldn't believe my ears when she said that she believed that this was just a show. Was that what she thought of me?

"Ask anyone I know on this planet. Ask them about you. Ask them what I have said about you. Ask them how much I love you. Ask them how I would take a bullet for you, how I would put my career on the line if it meant to prioritise you. You have no idea how much I cried the night before I left for Manchester. I called Lewis at 3 am in the morning crying, asking him to help me cancel my contract so I could stay in London. Even if that meant trying to force my way back into Chelsea or another club. Do you really think I would punch a guy for any other girl besides you? Because yes y/n, I love you. I truly am madly in love with you. I love you so much it started to pain me. It was heartbreaking seeing you try to be loved by someone who wasn't deserving of your love when I was there, waiting to give you all the love of the world. If you still think this is all a show, then I am deeply sorry. I just want the best for you."

There was so much more to confess and to explain, although it would take me an eternity to prove to her how much she meant to me. Since day one I knew that if someone would be my endgame, it had to be her.

"You are my best friend, you will always be. We share everything with each other. Why did you never say anything about this? What stopped you from telling me how you were feeling? " She came closer to me and cupped my cheeks softly, caressing my rough skin.

"If I lost you because of my feelings, I would have never forgiven myself. God knows how many nights we spend sleeping in each other's embrace and I whispered in your ear how much I was in love with you. I just hoped one day you listened and wake up realising we should be together. But forcing you to love me, wouldn't be right. That is why I never told anything." This could either break my heart or bring me back to life, there's no way back now.

"Mason, I was in love with you before I ever was with him. He was just my reason to bury all the love I had for you. I was scared of admitting anything because your career kept growing and growing and the thought of being in love with you whilst you were playing in another country with a girlfriend I probably wouldn't even like, would keep me up late at night crying."

Her words broke my heart into a million pieces. My y/n was in love with me as well? The girl of my dreams could have been mine for so long and we wouldn't have had to go through this mess? Y/n loved me, oh my god.

"If you allow me, I will love you for the rest of our lives. Whoever you want to end up with, just tell me, will you allow me to give you all the unconditional love I have for you? All that matters to me is that you are happy. As long as you smile, I know I can smile as well." I lowered my head and our foreheads touched, feeling her breath hit on my lips, which were about to capture hers but I held back for a moment.

"I don't want to be loved by anyone else but you, Mason Tony Mount. If I want to be with someone, I want that person to be you. I want to share my life and love I have with you. We could have been happy now if we both weren't so scared to admit our feelings." I can feel her tears running down my hands as I was trying to bring her face closer to mine.

"Better late than never, am I right?" I took the chance and captured her lips in a full of years of emotions kiss, softer than the touch of clouds but with more love than cupid's arrows. My heart has finally found the pace it will beat when I am with her. It will beat faster than a thousand hearts combined and will be full of happiness.