#with what I have. I’ve nearly died so many times if you don’t have an inhaler on your person you cannot talk to me abt asthma.

[lucielovekj]

I’m still mad at my uni lecturer for frankly so many reasons but not least the photo thing. We were told to give our permission to be randomly photographed and posted to her Instagram, not asked, and when I said no she laughed at me and told me I was being ridiculous and that it wasn’t a big deal. I said it was a big deal for me bc I was already struggling with my self image and the anxiety of being photographed at random would impede my work, she just said “nobody cares if you look bad” like that’s not my point I CARE. Not that the reason even matters bc it’s MY BODY.

[angstywaifu]

Priority - Garrick Tavis

Anonymous Request: reader would get frustrated with garrick loyalty to xaden (hence protecting violet) and it gets all angsty because hey a girl gets insecure and she’s like “when push come to shove and its my life vs xaden, hell even violet, i don’t know if its my life you’d be saving”, but garrick redeems himself!

Masterlist | Support Me

I storm past Garrick, continuing down the hallway in the sea of riders heading to formation. I was sick of being second to Xaden and essentially Violet. So many times he had brushed me aside or left me behind because of them. Just once I wanted to feel like a priority to him. Something I hadn’t felt since Violet had bonded Tairn, putting Xaden on high alert. Which by extension, meant Garrick. I hear him calling out behind me, but I don’t turn to acknowledge him. We were under attack. And the first thing he had done is rush out of the room to get Xaden and Violet. Leaving me alone in the room to get ready.

I make it to the courtyard before Garrick makes it to me, his hand grabbing my arm to turn me around to face him. “I was calling out to you.” He tells me with a pointed stare.

I shrug my arm out of his grasp, taking a step back to get some distance from him. “I know, I could hear you.” I tell him sternly as I cross my arms over my chest.

”What’s gotten into you?” He says with a scoff.

”What’s gotten into me? Oh I don’t know, maybe I’ve finally had it with being second best to Xaden and Violet the last few months. Maybe I’ve finally had it with being so low down on your priority list that I feel like I barely exist to you any more.”

”That’s not true.” His gaze softening at my words.

”Is it? Because I’m starting to feel like when push comes to shove and it was my life vs Xaden’s, hell even Violet’s, I don’t even know if it’s my life you’d choose anymore.” I spit out at him.

Garrick just stares at me in shock, clearly not expecting me to say something like that. We kept our relationship behind closed doors, but never once had I felt like I wasn’t cared for or loved by him. But since October it had just gotten worse and worse.

”If she dies, Xaden di-”

”I am well the fuck aware what happens if she dies. We all are Garrick. We’re all looking out for them. None of us want to loose Xaden.” I nearly yell at him, causing him to flinch. “But you might have just lost me in the process.”

I turn and head into formation, not wanting to hear what else he has to say. I was getting to the point of anger where I was going to say something I’d regret or go too far. Though I might have just gone too far. I knew how close Xaden and Garrick were. Always have. But this was the first time since we’d gotten together that I had felt like this. And now I couldn’t help but wonder if I had just put the nail in the coffin of our relationship.

We were overwhelmed. Buildings were collapsing, people screaming as they tried to flee to safety. I was honestly starting to think we weren’t going to make it. We’d already lost two to the onslaught. Loud screams to my right startle me, but I have no time to react as a wall of people slam into me, knocking me to the ground.

My ears ring from the contact, amplified by the shoes that kick my head on their way past. All of them too scared to realise they’ve knocked me to the ground. I can barely register my dragon yelling in my head, unable to make out the words they throw down the bond as I try to get back to my feet. I manage to get onto my hands and knees before another shoe meets my head. My dragon continues to yell at me down the bond. I can feel their fear, panic and worry. But I still can’t make out the words they throw at me.

I push myself up again, this time being successful due to the crowd all dissipating. All but one. In the distance down the end of the street, I can just make out a blurry figure clad in robes billowing in the wind. My vision spins as I try to focus on them, my head throbbing from the effort. Shit. I’m concussed. But something tells me I need to move. Need to get to my feet and get out. But I can’t.

I try to focus on the figure again. A figure that’s much brighter in colour to their surroundings. As if the colour has drained from everything around them. I watch as the muted colours get closer and closer to me by the second. I try to stand, but my legs crumble, sending me back to the ground. I need to move, or I’m dead. I try again, grasping onto a nearby wall to try pull myself up. But my hand slips, sending me back to the ground as I cry out in pain. I roll to my side, this time the figure much clearer now my vision isn’t blurry. Watching as the Venin channels from the ground. Watching as it gets closer and closer. I have probably thirty seconds till I meet my end. Thirty seconds left and my last words to him were becoming true in more ways than one. And now I have no way to tell him I’m sorry before I’m gone. I’ll never get to take back those words.

I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to watch when my end will come. But they fly open when I’m pulled from the ground. I look up and see Garrick pulling me into his arms before turning and running us down the street towards Chradh who angles his leg for Garrick. Garrick doesn’t miss a beat as he runs up the makeshift ramp, holding me in his lap as he takes his seat and Chradh launches into the air.

The wind howls around us as Chradh beats his wings, propelling us higher above the chaos below as his magic washes over Garrick and I, securing us in place. I clutch onto Garrick’s flight jacket barely registering the warmth of his body through my haze of pain and fear. My head throbs with each pulse of my heart, and my vision swims, but I can’t tear my eyes away from his face. His jaw is clenched tight, his brows furrowed in concentration as he manoeuvres us out of danger.

"Garrick," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the rush of wind.

His eyes snap down to mine, and for a moment, the icy walls of detachment he’s built around himself crumble. There’s something raw in his expression. Fear, anger, relief, and something deeper that I can’t quite name.

"I thought..." My voice cracks, and I swallow hard. "I thought you didn’t care anymore."

He lets out a harsh, humourless laugh, his grip tightening around me. "Don’t care? Is that what you think? That you’re second to Xaden and Violet?" His voice breaks on Violet’s name, and his gaze darkens. "They’re my responsibility. My duty. But you—" He exhales sharply, his eyes glinting with something that looks almost like desperation. "You’re my everything. And if you ever doubt that again, I’ll—"

"You’ll what?" I manage to croak, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite the pain.

"I’ll never forgive myself," he finishes, his voice dropping to a whisper. He presses his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my skin. "You think I could survive losing you? You think I’d want to?"

I blink up at him, my heart twisting at the raw vulnerability in his voice. I’ve never seen him like this, so unguarded, so human. For all his stoicism and sharp edges, Garrick is breaking right in front of me, and it’s because of me.

"I’m sorry," I murmur, reaching up to brush my fingers against his jaw. "I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it."

He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch as if it’s the only thing grounding him. "Just don’t scare me like that again," he says softly. "Please."

Chradh lets out a low growl, drawing our attention back to the chaos below. Garrick straightens, his grip on me tightening as his eyes scan the battlefield. "We’re not out of this yet," he says grimly.

I nod, forcing myself to sit up despite the pounding in my head. "I’m with you," I say, my voice steadier now.

Garrick glances down at me, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. "Always," he says.

[sanjisleggy]

this love of mine (trafalgar law x reader) [pt1]

summary: Trafalgar Law’s sudden discovery of your past ties to Straw Hat Luffy and Fire Fist Ace leaves his emotions in shambles

a/n: it’s my first time writing for Law and i’m a bit nervous but imma try my best!! i’m basing my interpretation of his personality on his appearance so far in punk hazard + some fics i’ve read of him before ;;0;; i’ve been struggling with this for like almost 3 days now so imma split this into 2 parts and hope the second part isn’t as tough to write :’D 

contents: set during Sabaody Archipelago arc w/ spoilers (?) from Luffy’s childhood, Luffy’s older sister!reader, Law has to deal with his feelings and is a Mess, Ace is causing trouble without even being physically present, jealousy, insecurity, angst

wc. 1.5k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 2

i. 

as Trafalgar Law watches the infamous Straw Hat captain sucker punch a Celestial Dragon, the very last thing he expects to hear is you shouting the boy’s name.

“Luffy?!” you nearly scream, jumping out of your seat beside your captain. all of the eyes that were initially glued to the ruckus now turn to you, including that of Monkey D. Luffy; and it isn’t lost on Law how the furious scowl on the younger man’s face almost instantly morphs into a giant smile.

“(Y/N)!” Luffy yells in return as he waves his arms around wildly. “i can’t believe you’re here! you made it, too!!”

Law is vaguely aware of Shachi and Penguin whispering animatedly to each other behind him but he can’t really be bothered to listen to them right now, not when you so recklessly leap into action once the fighting begins.

he and Bepo watch silently as you strike guard after guard with your signature weapon–a long metal pipe–while you move in tandem with Straw Hat Luffy. it’s almost seamless, the way he and you work around each other’s moves, as if the other’s fighting pattern is almost engraved into your very muscles.

“woah, what the hell?” Shachi comments aloud. “i never knew (Y/N) was friends with Straw Hat. did you, captain?” Law only manages a loose shake of his head, a million thoughts running through his mind as he continues to observe how different you seem as you fight beside Luffy.

in all the years Law has known you, you’ve always struck him as a level-headed fighter and an overall extremely calm and collected person–it’s one of the many reasons he fell for you to begin with. and yet here you are, having leapt into action seemingly without a second thought, all for a boy Law didn’t even know you were associated with until right now.

“you guys don’t think she hid this from us on purpose, right?” Penguin suggests in a tone tinged with slight embarrassment, as though uncomfortable at the idea of even thinking you’d been wilfully hiding something from everyone.

“no… she must’ve had a reason…” Bepo replies, idly hugging Law’s sword as his eyes continue to trace your movements at the front of the auction house. he winces when you land a particularly harsh blow against one of the Celestial Dragon’s guards.

as the conversation awkwardly dies out, Law can’t help but feel the eyes of his crewmates looking his way almost expectedly. he doesn’t blame them, after all, it’s no secret you’ve been dating for quite a while now. if anyone was to be the most shocked at this discovery, it’d have to be him.

“and here i was thinking you were never gonna wake up,” an unfamiliar voice spoke as Law’s eyes fluttered open. head spinning, he groaned and tried to rub his face with his hands, only to wince when a sharp pain bloomed over his palms. “your hands got burned a bit. i don’t think they’ll scar but you shouldn’t try to move them so much for now.”

“who are you?” he croaked as he blinked away the blurriness in his vision and was greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar room. “where am i?”

“i’m (Y/N) and i don’t know where we are,” you replied simply. “all i know is that you almost died and i saved your life.”

“why?”

“do i need a reason?”

the sudden sound of a gunshot tears across the auditorium and is followed by a cacophony of gasps as all eyes turn to the stage where just mere seconds ago, one of the Celestial Dragons stood with a gun pointed at a mermaid. 

Law feels his heart sink when he realises what you’ve done.

standing on wobbly knees, you let your pipe fall to the ground with a loud clang. before you lies the unconscious body of a lady Celestial Dragon with her gun now sitting a few metres away from her unmoving hand. 

you’d moved without thinking after seeing the way Luffy and his crewmates shouted when the mermaid’s life was put in danger. the dots connected in your head and it gave you all the reason you needed to risk it all for his friend.

he is, after all, your beloved baby brother.

“(Y/N)!” two distinct voices cry your name at the same time as blood begins to pour out of your stomach, the warm red liquid seeping through your fingers as you clutch your wound in vain. out of the corner of your eye, you can see Luffy sprinting towards you but out of instinct, you scan the scattering crowd in search of your captain. 

the moment your eyes meet, you’re shambled into his arms. 

“what’s the matter with you?!” Law hisses under his breath before he lays you down carefully on the ground. “you’re never this reckless. why’d you–”

“hey! you!” Luffy barks, pointing a finger in your partner’s direction. in true Luffy-fashion, he completely ignores the countless guards and marines as they continue to charge towards him, only to get beaten down by his crewmates before they can even get close. “give me my big sister back!”

“SISTER?!” exclaims a chorus of voices, a combination of his crew and your own.

you can only manage a sheepish smile when Law glances down at you with a flabbergasted look on his face.

ii.

“you should join my crew.” he’d spoken so casually, as though such a proposition wasn’t potentially life-changing for a lone wolf like yourself. 

after you managed to find his crew mates and lead them back to your temporary hideout, you’d been invited onto their submarine with the offer to drop you off anywhere you’d like. unable to think of any place in particular, you decided to stick around for a bit and before you knew it almost six months had passed by.

“i mean, you’ve stuck around this long,” Law continued after realising you weren’t going to respond any time soon, “you must trust us to some capacity, right?” 

he’d hit the bullseye without even trying. 

you liked the Heart Pirates, you really did, but your journey from the very day you departed from your home island was wrought with hurt and betrayal. after countless encounters with scummy captains and their shitty crews, you swore you’d go solo until you could find one of your brothers again. it didn’t matter which: Ace, Sabo or Luffy. 

they were the only ones you could trust, after all.

the commotion dies down after a strong wave of Haki washes over the room, followed by the thuds of countless unconscious bodies unceremoniously hitting the ground. everyone turns their attention to the culprit–everyone except you and the man currently patching you up.

kneeling over you, Law silently sanitises and bandages your gunshot wound after ensuring there wasn’t any fragments left in your flesh. he’d been deadly quiet after Luffy announced to the world his ties to you as your brother and you aren’t entirely sure if this is the regular Law kind of quiet or the bad kind of quiet. something in you heart says it’s the latter and yet your boyfriend tends to your wounds so tenderly, as if he isn’t upset in the slightest.

once he’s done, he even helps you to your feet slowly and carefully, though still not saying a single word. 

after a while of watching the Straw Hats speak to an old man who showed up out of nowhere, Luffy comes running your way. it isn’t lost on you how Law’s shoulders tense up in response as he inches closer towards you until the back of his hands brushes against yours. 

“(Y/N)!” he laughs before throwing himself against you and pulling you into a tight hug. although it really hurts your wound, you can’t help but smile as he nuzzles his cheek affectionately against yours. “i’ve missed you so much! i can’t believe you’re here of all places! did you see my wanted poster? i have a super awesome crew now, you should meet them–”

Law observes as the Straw Hat captain yaps endlessly whilst you gaze down at him with a softness in your eyes your boyfriend foolishly thought had always been reserved solely for him.

“oh! and i met Ace in Alabasta and he told me to give this to you if i ever see you,” Luffy says as he rummages through his pockets before pulling out a ring strung on a chain. “Ace also told me to tell you that he misses you lots and hopes to see you again soon!”

Ace? surely it’s not Fire Fist Ace? what connection do you have with him, of all people? what else have you been keeping from me?

though, now that he thinks about it, Law never would’ve expected you to be siblings with Straw Hat Luffy, who’s to say you aren’t associated with other infamous pirates? since the day you agreed to be his girlfriend, he’d been under the impression he knows who you are, as you do with him, but now he’s not so sure anymore. 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch @somatchajade

[shouyuus]

chapter four: another life

roronoa zoro; 3,170 words; flluff, angst, smol cliffhanger (teehee), slowburn starting to burn, enemies to lovers (we are getting to the lovers part finally!), quiet bonding, nami is still the goat

summary: in which you lose count of the number of times you've died

a/n: here we gooooo final stretch before the last chapter (chapter five). i promise it ends well in the end! :) there's some cuteness in here to make up for the distinct lack of it in the first three chapters lmfao

< to the table of contents

“So… how many times do you thinks she’s —”

“Usopp! You can’t just ask someone that —”

“I mean… most people can only die once so we don’t really have any —”

"Luffy!” Nami glares, effectively cutting Luffy off as you wander onto the main deck, squinting in the mid-day sun. Usopp presses his lips, going rigid as you cast your eyes over towards him with a curious look.

“Uh — m-morning! How’d — how’d you sleep?” he asks.

You quirk an eyebrow.

“Fine… but that’s third time you’ve asked me that today, Usopp.”

Usopp licks his lips, nodding, “Yeah! Well — I mean — it’s important to sleep well, y’know? And with you bein’ the newest member of our crew — I just wanted to make sure that you’re really sleepin’ well —”

“If you have questions… you’re allowed to ask,” you say, effectively cutting off his rambling explanation.

“What happened to your hand?” Nami asks, pointing.

“Oh —” you look down at the small bit of bandage from the night before, curling your fingers in on your palm, “I cut myself while making some mochis last night.”

“Oh! I love mochis!” Luffy grins, striding towards the hatch that leads below decks just as Sanji peaks out to call for lunch.

“Yes,” you laugh, following after, even as Nami sighs, shaking her head, “you’ve said that a lot too.”

Down in the corridor, you bump into Zoro, yawning widely as he waits for everyone to pass by before bringing up the rear. You exchange a glance that seems to unspool between the two of you, keeping you tethered even as you look away, following the rest of the crew into the kitchens for lunch.

Meals are always a noisy affair on the Merry — and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. It’s remarkable, Zoro thinks, how quickly you’ve melded seamlessly into the strange and colorful tapestry of their rick-rack pirate crew.

But still, there’s a strange distance between you and everyone else, as if the air itself shimmered around you, keeping you out, keeping you othered. You smile as Sanji pours you a generous glass of mimosa, reaching out to garnish it with a slice of juicy tangerine.

“So! What is it that you’ve been wanting to ask me?” you turn your gaze on Usopp, who nearly chokes on his mouthful of pulled pork, swallowing hard as Luffy thumps him on the back.

Zoro pauses mid-sip, the bubbles in his drink going flat in his mouth.

“Uhm —” Usopp looks wildly around at everyone else before turning back to meet your eyes. You give him a soft smile, as if letting him know that he’s not being put on the spot. He licks his lips and clears his throat and reaches out to toss back his entire drink before coughing comically into his fist, “I — well, actually we — I mean like — me and Luffy and Nami —”

“Keep me out of this,” Nami throws up her hands.

“Okay fine, me and Luffy —” Usopp casts Luffy a desperate look, “were just thinking the other day like — do you remember — how many times you’ve uh —”

Sanji sighs, rubbing at his temples with his fingers. Zoro feels his jaw tighten at the question.

You nod, expression neutral as you take another small sip of your drink before setting it down.

“You were wondering if I knew how many times I’ve died?”

The silence is the room rings so loud Zoro thinks his ears may pop. He swallows passed a mouthful of food that suddenly feels like it’s been turned to sand, putting down his chopsticks.

“But… only if you wanna — I mean — we were just curious — it’s not like it’s super important —” Usopp blusters, clearly trying to backtrack as hard and fast as possible.

“I don’t keep count…” you say, reaching out for a tiny sandwich, breaking it in half carefully between your fingers and popping one half of it in your mouth, “not anymore. I used to though… and then it just…” you lift up your left shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, “I didn’t see the point in it anymore.”

Nami reaches out a hand and places it on your arm, giving you a squeeze. There’s a fierce fire behind her eyes, a soul-deep pain and understanding. Zoro wonders at the things she might’ve been made to do at Arlong’s behest, if she might’ve once upon a time kept count of all his million and one indiscretions before realizing one day that it was pointless.

His palms pulse with heat and he feels the reckless urge to hack something in half.

“But to answer your question, more than a hundred, I think. I stopped counting when I hit the 90’s,” you pop the second half of the sandwich into your mouth and chew slowly. The quiet simmers around the table, before Sanji sighs and gets up to refill everyone’s glasses.

“Was it all that Crocodile guy?” Luffy asks, his voice jarringly serious. Everyone turns to look at him. He stares at you, his brows furrowed slightly.

You shake your head, “No. Most of it was actually bandits and thieves — people tend to lash out when they get scared, and a little girl who isn’t afraid of death — well,” you let your voice trail off.

“Do you remember them?” Zoro asks. His voice scrapes out of him, raw and bloodied. He tries to play it off with a cough and a deep drink, but no one is fooled.

You turn towards him, a light smile gracing your lips, “What? Gonna offer to go and hunt them down for me?”

Zoro shrugs, setting down his now-empty glass.

“As touching as that is,” you shoot him a tiny wink that makes Nami grin, “I’d rather not waste everyone’s time. They’re not worth it.”

A muscle feathers in Zoro’s jaw as he reflexively clenches and unclenches his fist on the table.

“And… I don’t think it’d make me feel any better,” you say, looking down at your own hands. Zoro forces himself to relax, to loosen his fingers and slacken his shoulders. But he stares down at his half-empty plate, his appetite gone.

— — —

Later that night, you find him siting alone in the crow’s nest, his back propped against the mast, one arm resting on a half-bent knee. He barely turns as you push yourself into the small space, casting your eyes up at the star-speckled night.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask, curling your arms around your legs, knees pressing into your chest.

Zoro grunts, shifting slightly, relaxing just enough that your elbows brush.

“Somethin’ like that.”

The silence stretches between the pair of you like the missing years, all those hours spent living and growing on opposite sides of a vengeful sea.

“D’you remember during the winter,” you say, your voice sending goosebumps prickling along Zoro’s skin, soft as heartbreak, fresh as an open wound, “when I’d say for dinner… and we’d sit out on the veranda and make up constellations?”

“Yeah,” Zoro laughs, leaning into the warmth of you, as natural as sinking into a memory, “the swordsman, the wheelbarrow, and —”

“And the mochitsuki!” you giggle, toppling into him as the memory seizes you both. You reach up and point towards a cluster of stars, “Right there! Look!”

Zoro scoffs, though he follows your finger, “Those are just a random bunch of stars —”

“No, you always picked a random bunch of stars —”

“I did not! I bet I could still find my swordsman constellation.”

Zoro squints at the dizzying array of twinkling specks, scanning the sky until he reaches out a hand to point.

“See those right there? That’s the swordsman.”

“You’re so full of shit, Roronoa,” but you’re laughing, and then so is he, the sound of natural it rumbles his shoulders and warms his limbs.

Zoro shakes his head, and by the time he realizes he’s leaning down to brush a strand of hair away from your cheek, it’s already too late. His body, a thrumming conflagration of muscle memory — his arm so used to the motion he didn’t even have to think. He skims this knuckles along your cheek, feels the weight of your tiny gasp ring through him like a church bell.

Your lashes flutter; there are stars from a thousand unnamed constellations caught in the dark oceans of your eyes.

“It’s… it’s not even winter.”

Zoro’s brows crinkle, his head cocking.

“What?”

You let out a puff of laughter that scalds across his lips.

“The stars —” your eyes flick up for a single second before slicing back down, “they’re different in the summer. Back when we picked out constellations… it’d been winter.”

“Oh.” Zoro doesn’t know what else to say. He’s held still by your closeness, by the burning flame of you, by the sea salt sweetness of your skin, the obsidian spill of your hair as it tumbles over your shoulder, tickling his arm. You’re so, so close, and yet he’s struck by the distance still left between you — too much, he thinks, far too much.

The kiss can barely be called a kiss — only the ghostly skim of lips on lips, a gasp masquerading as something more. But it’d been something, and you both jerk away from each other, lightening-jolted and gasping. You, with a hand pressed to your chest, Zoro, propping himself up with an arm against the crow’s nest’s rim.

Minutes go by, and neither of you have the courage to speak.

“It’s late,” Zoro finally manages, clearing his throat as he rums a thumb along the base of his sword, seeking the comforting grate of it’s well-worn tsuka, “you should —”

“Can I stay?” you ask, the words echoing through him, and for a second, beneath the light of all those million uncertain stars, he feels like a child again, and he sees you as he once had — midnight hair and a dreamer’s smile, pleading with his sensei to stay just a bit longer.

“Just… till I get tired,” you amend. Zoro blinks, and there you are again, all grown up, the vestiges of childhood still visible in the way you bite your lips, but there’s nothing childish about the way his stomach twists or the way your eyes dart down to rest on his mouth, lingering for a breath too long.

“Fine,” Zoro says, forcing his gaze away as he moves to sit back against the mast. You curl in next to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder. He waits for three beats before letting out a long sigh and adjusting his shoulder to match your height, letting you shuffle till you’re pressed almost fully against his left side.

He feels the weight and warmth of you seeping into his skin, more intimately than he’d ever felt it before. And like this, Zoro thinks that eternity might not be so long a time.

It’s long after midnight by the time you stir, and this time, Zoro doesn’t hesitate before looping one arm beneath your knees and the other around your shoulders, cradling you against his chest as he makes his slow, steady way back down to the main deck, and then below. You stir as he lays you down in his hammock, easing in next to you, your eyes blinking open to the bleary, moonlit dark of his room.

“Zoro?” you ask, your voice still mired in sleep.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he says, as if it’s the only answer you might’ve been seeking. You smile, lopsided and sweet, sinking into the pillow, one hand reaching out for him.

He tugs the sheets up and stretches out an arm to pull you close, feeling the soul-deep settling of the first drop of rain as it meets the sea, knowing that this is where he’s meant to be.

— — —

The pair of you are shaken awake by the wild rocking of the Merry and the too-close boom of canon-fire. Zoro jerks up, reaching for his swords; you, already swinging out of the bed as well, your eyes bright and wild.

“Wait —” Zoro bars your way as you try to jerk the door open.

“What?” you snap, the terrible, leaden look eclipsing your expression as Zoro watches you force the feeling, the life, from your face.

“You stay here.”

“Like hell I will,” you try to jerk passed Zoro’s arm, but he’s nothing if not strong, and he forces you back with a harsh shove.

“Stay here,” he says again, his knuckles already going white as he grips the handle of his sword.

“No.” You bare your teeth, and for a moment, Zoro barely recognizes you — your face devoid of anything but fear and anger, your eyes huge and hollow. Then, a flicker of light —

“I —” you swallow, “I won’t let anyone die for me. Not for me,” you say, as if the thought were an unbearable terror, gorging itself on the tendrils of your mind.

Zoro stares at you for what seems like a century. All the while, the unmistakable sounds of a battle rages on above.

Finally, he bites out, “I’m not planning on letting you die either.”

Your lips press into a thin, ghostly smile as you push passed his now-slack arm.

“Then don’t,” you say.

“Don’t what?”

You cast him a single backward glance, “Let me die.”

— — —

It is pandemonium by the time you and Zoro make it up to the main decks. A single look and you know that you’re all outnumbered and hundred to one.

“Your old boss really doesn’t give up, huh?” Zoro asks as he jumps in, parrying two blows and kicking another attacker in the stomach.

You duck beneath a pair of throwing stars, pulling out your knives.

“He’s not known for it — no,” you say, grunting as you swiftly dispatch someone swinging a pair of nun-chucks.

Across the deck, Sanji is round-house kicking someone in the face while Nami pivots off her bo staff to send someone else flying over the railings. Somewhere behind them, Luffy’s clear shout of Gum-Gum-Whip! echoes over the glistening morning waves. And up on the crow’s nest, Usopp fires round after round of his newly developed exploding pellets.

But it’s endless, and as many attackers as you fell, more keeps coming, seemingly appearing from nowhere as they clamber over the side of the ship, snarling as they swarm towards you.

“We — we have to get out of here!” Nami calls, barely keeping hold against a gargantuan pirate three times her size, bearing down over her with two giant, flashing swords.

“B-but — where do we go?” Usopp calls, desperately trying to re-load his slingshot, his fingers shaking so hard he almost fumbles his next round.

A hard, chilling realization settles in your chest, sinking till it weighs at the bottom of your stomach as you look around at the wreckage of the Merry, your eyes blurred with smoke and tears.

“There’s nowhere we can run!” Sanji says, nailing someone in the side a second before they catch Luffy in the back with a knife. Luffy throws him a thumbs up, winding up for another attack.

In the distance, you see the shadow of a large, familiar ship getting closer and closer, and suddenly, clear as day, you know what you have to do.

You dart out in front of Zoro, digging your knives into a man’s chest deep enough to feel his bones crack before ripping out the blades and spinning around to press your own chest to the tip of Zoro’s blade.

“What the hell?!”

Your hand whips out, grabbing Zoro’s wrist as he tries to pull away. Behind you, you hear the distinct sounds of Nami shouting something about an approaching ship, but you can’t make out the words.

“They’re coming after me,” you say, in a voice so quiet you doubt Zoro can hear you, but from the way his eyes go wide, you figure he catches the gist. He tries again to jerk his sword away but you pull it back so hard the tip snicks open the front of your shirt, drawing a dark droplet of blood.

He freezes just as a single warning clap of thunder roils overhead.

“You have to do it,” you say, your voice steady now, just loud enough for the others to hear, even as all sound seems to fade away, the action around you blurring as time itself slackens around you.

“No,” Zoro says, the line of his jaw drawn so taut you almost laugh, “I said I wouldn’t let you die.”

You nod, reaching out across what feels like an impossible distance to brush a thumb along his blood-spattered cheek. Overhead, dark clouds gather, streaks of lightning illuminating great patches of sky as the entire ocean froths with the oncoming storm.

“Right. That’s why you have to kill me instead.”

“No.” Zoro feels the word scrape out of him like a handful of broken glass, but the thing in his chest (can it still be called a heart?) claws up his throat, crawling into his mouth, leaving his tongue thick and bloodied. Panic knots through his veins as he tries to think of another way — any other way.

Distantly, he hears the shouts of his crewmates as they struggle to keep the onslaught of enemies at bay. And he knows — the same way a body knows how to cry without ever being taught, the first thing humans do when they’re brought into this world — that there is no other way.

You smile a smile that looks like the shadow of every single nightmare Zoro’s ever woken up from screaming.

“Can you at least make it quick?” you ask, leaning in, his sword tipping back so as not to run you through, but the blade still skims along the side of your neck like a sweet, fatal promise.

You close the space between you and lay your palms on his chest, letting his heart thread it’s hopeless drumbeat into the flat of your hands.

Overhead, Usopp is shouting about an enemy ship to the starboard side.

You clasp your fingers over Zoro’s hand on the hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji, and you feel the blade vibrate against your skin — as if it knows, as if it too is mourning.

A single raindrop patters down onto your cheek as you reach out to brush Zoro’s jaw.

“Zoro, please —”

A shard of lightning streaks overhead. A deafening clap of thunder. Zoro opens his mouth in a drowned out yell as he draws his blade across your neck in a sharp, abortive swipe and watches as the red wreaths down your front.

For just a second, it seems like your lips are caught in a smile, your eyes glimmering with secrets. And then, you slump forward into his arms, heavy and unmoving.

Somewhere behind him, Nami screams.

TAGLIST: @brairslair @msheds0519 @yunabelless @lynndt-chocolate @@lostonthrillerbark @stunies @tsumu-senpai @phroggii @ssailormoonnn @breathinginyoursmoke @guridoodles @kyllium @naomihatake @itoshiexx @mythicallystupid @mars-mizuko @astroniii @crispynutella @enhastolemyheart @fanficwriter101 @jamesbparker @dira333 @weirdowithaphone @ink-perfect @lodeddiperrodrick @not-a-glad-gladiator @vinskypuff @itsagoodluckkiss @blondethinkpink @ellelowthere @annievrse @m333myselfandiii @tsubaki3192 @grapelover2000 @teewon @keigoskrio @ggyuslovie @manuosorioh @one17 @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @emmaiscool22 @ponyboys-sunsets @m333myselfandiii @13-09-01 @jedi-dreea @noble-17 @murnsondock @letsthedogpackandthecats — pls comment below if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series!

[maxdibert]

Pretty messed up how some people are fans of a creepy and obsessive guy who didn’t care if a man and a child died just so he could get the girl.

Alright, let's break this down, anon, because there's a lot to unpack here.

I think I've mentioned this in several posts already, but I'll repeat it: Severus owed James Potter NOTHING—no compassion, no empathy, no mercy. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. James Potter was a rich, popular brat who abused his social and economic capital to torment a poor, unsupported boy for seven years just because he didn't like him from the moment they met on the train to Hogwarts, and from that moment on, he had it in for him. He was a terrible bully who used his friends to join in on that nasty bullying. So if Snape didn’t care that he died, well, Snape had every right to feel that way. Do you go to victims of domestic violence and tell them they should feel sorry for their abusers? No, right? Well, this is the same thing. James was an abuser, Severus was his victim. Severus did more than enough by not telling Voldemort to torture him to death with Cruciatus, because I would have. Honestly, I don't understand why Snaters always bring up the whole "James was dead and Snape walked over his body" as if it were some horrible thing when, hello! You're talking about an ABUSER being dead, mate. Of course, he walked right over his body—what surprises me is that he didn’t throw a party.

Harry had to die. I know this sounds terrible, but it’s basically what the prophecy indicated. He was a target that Voldemort wasn’t going to let slip away, his fate was sealed. And yes, it’s unethical. And yes, it’s immoral. But the truth is that wars are unethical and highly immoral, and horrible, monstrous decisions are often made. Harry was not an option—asking for mercy for him was pointless because there wasn’t going to be any.

I don’t think Severus ever believed that if James was out of the picture, Lily would go to him or anything like that. I mean, they hadn’t spoken for five years—about six by that time. Severus NEVER harassed or stalked Lily. The only time he went after her was when the whole SWM incident happened, and he tried to apologise. Once she made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, Severus respected her decision, and as far as we know from canon, they never interacted again. So, I don’t think, after six years of not talking, with his supposed former best friend having married and had a child with his personal bully, Severus had many expectations of them ending up in any sort of romantic relationship. I think, quite simply, that Lily always represented the only good part of his childhood—the only happy memories, the only moments of peace amidst the hellish violence he endured at home. I believe this was crucial for someone like him, whose childhood and teenage years were marked by violence, and he wasn’t willing to let the one good thing in his life end up murdered.

I agree that Severus is highly obsessive, but haters tend to frame this in a derogatory way, referring to his "obsession" with Lily, and I think it needs some clarification. Yes, Severus is obsessive, and he’s terribly immature at times, and he overreacts enormously when confronted with something that really triggers him (just look at how quickly he loses his temper with Sirius, for instance). This is obviously because he’s someone who never had the opportunity to grow up normally or develop cognitively as he should have, because his whole life was marked by violence. His home life was violent, and at school, he endured violence, and then at 20 years old, he handed his soul over to Dumbledore’s cause and had to work for nearly two decades at a school that was the epicentre of many of his traumas. He literally had neither the spaces nor the environments needed to heal and grow into a functional adult, and you can clearly see this in his behaviour. I’ve always said Severus is more of a diva than the cold, mysterious character people often make him out to be in fanon. To me, he’s someone who, on a personal level, hasn’t been able to grow emotionally in a healthy way and doesn’t know how to manage certain situations, especially those tied to his emotional issues. That said, I also don’t think he was romantically and/or sexually obsessed with Lily. I do think he loved her or was infatuated with her in his youth—first love, crush, whatever. But I don’t believe his need to avenge her death was due to romantic or obsessive love. I think it’s more about his obsession with repaying his debt to her. Severus always felt partially responsible for Lily’s death, and that’s where his obsession lies: it’s not that he’s obsessed with her, per se, but with the fact that he feels guilty for what happened. He feels, in some way, responsible for the death of the one person who showed him kindness, affection, and care during his childhood, which made her the most important person in his life at one point. And guilt often leads to obsession, much like grief that is not properly processed, and I don’t think that kind of obsession is creepy. I think it’s a very human kind of obsession.

Lastly, I don’t find Severus creepy at all. Why is he creepy? I mean, Harry was running around with his invisibility cloak, spying on everyone. The Marauders had A BLOODY MAP that allowed them to track everyone at Hogwarts 24/7 like some kind of magical GPS. Is Severus really the creepy one here? There are literally Animagi who turn into animals to spy on people—I have to laugh at the whole creepy argument.

That being said, if you’re going to come into my DMs to complain about Severus, at least bring some convincing arguments because it’s a bit tiresome hearing the same nonsense over and over again.

[yandere-sins]

Favorite

You are Astarion's favorite blood sacrifice. He decides to reward you for it.

Characters: Yandere!Ascended!Astarion x GN!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: Yandere, Vampires, Reader nearly dies, Blood being mentioned in all manners, Biting, Death mention, Minor sexual hints, Desperation, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Minor violent acts (not directed at reader except biting)

a/n: I don't have a big Halloween story for you guys, but I've been trying to get back into writing more and I've been working on this story the last couple of days, so I hope you enjoy it ♥ (I mean it's vampires so that's almost Halloween-themed right???)

Darkness is a vampire's best friend. 

It shields them, hides them, benefits them—all without expecting something in return. It's nature's way of making up for all the pain and suffering it put its less loved children of the night through, and they welcome it, moonlight glistening on their skin, their perception so much sharper without the fear of sunlight's burn. 

Like eager partners in crime, a vampire's gifts are amplified by what the darkness provides. They stalk in the shadowy coat of the night; see the prey that wants to stay unseen. Their voices, mellow and honeyed, sound even sweeter, whispered in the ears of those who wander into the vampire's hunting grounds as the creatures lure their prey with promises of grandeur. Fame, money, lust. It seems to be all that their food desires. What more could someone want who's unaware of being tricked? And so they follow wherever the masters of night command them. 

Deeper and deeper into the darkness.

"Hello, darling."

You came to hate it—all of it. The darkness, the night.

The whispers and touches, promises and the hunt. You knew he had many more like you, living blood banks stored in cold, dark cells. You heard them scream every night when the bell rang twelve, the darkest hour of the day. Sometimes, you recognized the cries as the ones from days before, but you never knew when would be the last time you'd hear the poor souls lost in the darkness. New ones came and went, but you were the only one that remained after every night. 

Somewhere between three and four months, you lost count of the days spent here. You tried to remember how many times you'd been visited, but one miscount, and now you didn't know if it had been one or ten years. You would have expected to get mad in the darkness, alone and aching from your shoulders to your ankles, with no place on your body unbitten. But Astarion was punctual—perhaps the only good quality about him. That was the only thing to keep you grounded down here.

He didn't miss a single day of feeding or, as he called it, spending time with you. 

Alongside your meal, he showed up at exactly midnight every night, someone always there to close the door behind him without fail. You had never seen his face, but you had felt it plenty of times beneath your fingertips, enough to know he was one of those handsome bloodsuckers who kidnapped and locked you here. At least for now, as long as you were pretty enough in his eyes as well. Eyes that you felt creeping over your body the moment the only door to the outside opened, only more darkness waiting behind it. They mustered you, devoured you perhaps, an appetizer before the main course. 

You knew nothing of your nightly visitor besides his punctuality and his name. There was no face to associate it with, just the feeling of his cold skin and the sharp pain of his fangs in your memory. And yet, something told you he was special even among his kind. Somewhat… superior. He still had the capability to be gentle if he wanted, never causing you to cry out in agony like the other sacrificial lambs did. And more importantly, after all this time, you were sure he was the one keeping you alive.

"Astarion," you greeted him, simply, calmly. Hiding the shiver in your voice despite the room growing colder ever since he stepped inside. It was hard to say if you were still afraid of death when it was a constant threat like a noose hanging above your head. Perhaps you dreaded surviving more than dying if you thought about it, your heart growing heavier with fear and loneliness every day. But at the same time, you grew more and more desensitized to the screams and pain and more used to the darkness.

Hugging your body with one arm, you used the other to walk along the wall to your chair, the wood creaking as you sat down, scooting it closer to the table. He liked it when you did what he wanted without him having to ask you to. Astarion's steps were non-existent, but you needn't wait for or invite him to join you. You could always count on his chest pressing against your back the moment you sat down as he leaned over you from behind. It was a familiar yet suppressive feeling. A reminder of your position. 

You were below him, prey to be consumed. Yet, he treated you more like a pet, almost beloved, but at best, you were well-cared for. You doubted he could feel anything towards you that wasn't belittling. You'd not thrive in the darkness on your own, but Astarion knew how to keep you alive. A waft of roasted chicken drifted into your nose, hearty and mouth-watering, and you had no doubts it would be accompanied by sides that would nourish the dire lack of vitamins you had. He had always insisted on you finishing your plate, feeding you himself if he had to. It couldn't go that you'd not eat what he graciously provided. But this was the only meal you were given every day, and the loss of blood made you too hungry to strike.

You tried once. For almost a week, you starved yourself until you could not do it anymore. Continuing not to eat when you were starving and food was served in masses to you cost too much willpower that you didn't have. Likewise, eating the food with the condition that you had to sit on his lap and thank him for every measly pea he fed you one after the other was enough humiliation to never try that again. And Astarion had been happy since with your plate wiped clean.

"You smell delightfully today," he mused as he drew back from the table. You felt his lips brush over your bare shoulder, your breath hitching when he pressed them to the nape of your neck. You'd not put it past him to eat before you, even though he seemed satisfied waiting for you to finish most of the time.

"Garbor gave me new soap today. Roses, I think," you breathed, reaching forward to the cutlery that, no doubt, laid beside the plate Astarion brought. It just appeared, almost magically. But you were pretty sure it was there all along, Garbor, the guard, probably cleaning and switching it out while you were asleep. You didn't even know if his name was Garbor; you merely decided to call him that. After all, no one would speak to you here aside from Astarion, even if you knew they existed in the shadows. 

"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," Astarion chuckled, his comment profoundly unsettling as you knew what he meant when he said you smelled nice. Your blood. To him, you must have smelled as mouth-wateringly as your meal did to you. You had always empathized with animals, wishing for them to live their lives as best as possible, even if they were destined to be slaughtered. Ironic, now that you were cattle to a vampire, likely being fed according to Astarion's tastes. 

"Next time, I think I'd like something citrusy again. The last soap was divine."

His hands driving up your arms made you nervous. They were unfettered by your movements as you aimlessly tried to pierce meat and vegetables onto your fork, your eyes never adjusting to the complete darkness of the basement cellar. You weren't a vampire, after all. Despite the time spent down here, the broken fear and authority between you two, he could still make you nervous. And you talked when you were anxious, to the point you wanted to bite your own tongue off.

A mix of a chuckle and a scoff escaped him as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, his nails resting softly against your throat while his thumbs ran up and down the sides of your spine in feathery touches. Slowly, reassuring you of his presence. And the ability to snap your neck with this formidable cut-throat necklace. He readjusted his touch a few times until his pointer fingers pressed against your pulse on one side, your gullet on the other. Enough for you to eat and breathe, but you didn't dare to move your head. 

"I shall tell… Garbor, to fetch that for you. Anything else? Another pillow? A new shirt? Would my darling fancy some earrings? We just so happen to have someone donate a wonderful pair of rubies that would look so beautifully dangling from your ears."

A shudder went through you; the word 'donate' was not one to take kindly. People donated to charities and beggars. Not to someone who could put meat on a plate every day for you and obviously had no saintly bone in his body. Gulping down the chicken that got stuck on your tongue as you listened to the sultry voice of your captor, you put down the fork for a moment to think, clearing your throat as best as you could with his hands still pretending to be a necklace. 

"A candle maybe, and a book. I feel like now's a great time to pick up a new hobby."

You heard the grin spread on Astarion's lips as he chuckled, his thumbs curling inwards until you felt his nails press against your skin. "I do so very like those entertaining ideas of yours, sweetling. But alas, I'm afraid I cannot give you that. You'd end up preferring the book over my company!"

"How could I ever, Sir? I wasn't planning on going on a paper diet."

This time, he actually burst out into laughter, hands disappearing into the darkness as you presumed he held his stomach from the ache of amusement. You wasted no time to stuff two more bites into your mouth as long as you had the freedom that was oh-so short-lived. His hands banging on the table in front of you created an explosive sound in the small confinement you called home. Compared to the cold body pressed against you, his breath skimmed your ear warmly, his voice like honey dripping right into your ear. 

"That's why you're my favorite. Those little witty comments of yours have saved you so many times, you know?"

The food you were so eager to sneak into your mouth now threatened to fall out of it as you couldn't find the strength to swallow. Some instinctual part of you waited for him to attack, exploit your vulnerable self. It readied you, muscles tense, body paying attention to everything it could perceive (which was shamefully little with your senses so inferior to the vampire). But then there was the rational part of your brain, currently occupied with the warmth of his breath gracing your ear and cheek, and his words. 

Favorite. You were his favorite.

You forced yourself to finish chewing, slowly, embarrassingly aware of Astarion waiting for another 'witty' remark from his favorite. Favorite late-night amusement? Favorite person to take care of? Favorite blood bag? You felt his eyes drilling into your jaw expectantly as you chewed your food properly before you leaned forward to reach for the cup of water that was unmistakably always on the table. Perhaps because of the darkness, you were so very aware of your hair brushing his nose and the deep inhale it caused Astarion to take before he pressed his face into it, gripping a bunch of it with one hand and forcing you to halt. 

"You're my undoing, pet."

"Really?" you said in your most convincing, surprised voice, trying your hardest to sound as fake as possible. Revealing his thoughts to you might have given you a chance to bargain with him, even though this cell and the darkness had long become much safer than anything he could offer. In reality, you knew better than to trust the words of a vampire, yet found yourself truly surprised about the reverence they were spoken with. "It's hard to imagine I could do such a thing. I'm just sitting here."

Astarion hummed, amused, satisfied with your remark once again. Another chance at life, how you noted duly. Perhaps he liked the challenge of you playing his game, neither of you ever speaking the whole truth and coating your words in sarcasm and fake friendliness. Or maybe vampires were accompanied by madness that made them prefer prey who didn't cave as easily into a begging, sobbing mess. Prey like you.

 "It's been years—no, decades since I last took a liking in someone, and you have no idea how much I longed for companionship like yours. It's exciting and a bit of a tease. I couldn't bring myself to kill you yet."

"How very gracious of you," you praised, hoping he didn't pay close attention to your face, a grimace edging into your features.

"You know, I might even be convinced to return you to the light. If you ask, nicely."

And suddenly, there it was. You gulped as you felt your stomach twist anxiously, suddenly attacked by something you had long abandoned. Hope. A glimmer of it, at least. You remembered the days when you had still banged at the door, demanding and reasoning with anyone who'd hear you to release and let you go home. The early nights when you dreamed about the sun and the warmth of being surrounded by people. And now the time had finally come to reclaim those wishes, almost bringing you down to your knees. 

You knew you couldn't be so foolish as to retort to being a boring, begging nobody. You had to be his favorite. Crawling over the dirty floor and clinging to him for dear life wasn't going to cut it, no matter how much you wanted to. Because yes! Yes to the surface, yes to leaving all of this behind. Escaping him would be much easier when you weren't locked in the darkness. You had waited so long for the sweet embrace of death and endured so much pain when you were forced to survive pitifully like this. You even became his favorite. And now it was paying off—if you played your cards right.

"Ah… I don't know," you sighed. You could hear your own voice, thin and nervous. Excited. Your mouth was dry, but your heart was banging against your rips. Undoubtedly, he knew that, but you hoped Astarion would forgive your very appropriate reaction. Maybe even fancy it.

Every flinch of your muscles and every word carefully uttered was driven by a hope that Astarion could easily crush if he disapproved. You never saw yourself as exceptionally talented with words, but if that was what he wanted, he should have it. Your mom would scold you for being a brat, but this vampire here favored your attitude enough to keep you alive, so it had to be good for something. "I was just starting to get comfortable here. It's so… cozy."

"Well, I have it cozy up there as well. Cushioned chairs and silk sheets—only the best for my best."

It was strange to hear his voice in the same tone as his usual banter, even though you could detect another tone swinging in the background. It was but an insignificant waver, one of uncertainty and doubt. Desperation. Maybe not as much as you, but he wanted you to agree, his reasons unclear. And yet, your heart setting out a beat must have given away that you recognized his wish since he added, "You were always a marvel. But imagine how good you'd look by my side up there. My consort. My favorite."

"W-Well, are the beds soft?" you pressed out quickly, trying to avoid the sensual allure of his voice being murmured into your ear. You didn't mean to stutter, biting your own tongue before deciding to calm yourself with deep, quiet breaths that you hoped he didn't notice. But you knew that everything he said went straight to the unreasonable part of your mind, the one a vampire knew to manipulate so well. But in your desire to get out of here, eagerness and giving in too easily could cost you everything. 

"Very," he mused, and you were relieved to hear him still in good spirits, his next words almost a lilt. "Soft and warm. Like you."

"And the food?" you asked, gulping. You didn't care for the beds or the food. 

"Oh, the food!" 

His exclamation caught you by surprise, as did the sudden disappearance of his body. For a moment, you thought you had ruined your chance. Had gone too far with your hesitance. But next you knew, you felt his hand fall to your shoulder again, running down your arm until he had your wrist in his palm, lifting it to his face. Astarion planted one kiss below your thumb, then moved on to kissing the pulse beneath it. 

"It's delightful! Delectable! The best you ever had. And me for dessert. You won't lack anything,  I promise."

His promise meant very little to you, and yet, as he littered your wrist with kisses, you couldn't help but cave. It was everything about this situation, the hope, the reverent kisses, the empty promises, that blinded you from the danger. You hadn't questioned his intentions or the price you'd have to pay. Not when he spoke to you as if he was laying the world at your feet, promising you the moon, the stars, and everything beyond.

"Ask me, pet, and you can have it all. The luxuries, the world, me. All you have to do is ask, darling."

There they were, the simple, honeyed words every human wanted to hear. All feeding into your own desperation so perfectly as if they were made just for you. As if you were the only suffering fool in this world, and perhaps to Astarion, you were. The grin curling his lips upwards against your wrist revealed just how much of a fool he took you for when you opened your mouth again.

"I…" you hesitated. But not long enough. You had too much to lose, despite not knowing what you were going to lose agreeing to this. "I want to go to the surface."

"Do you now?" he smirked, and you felt the hard edge of his teeth as his lips parted in a wide grin. 

"I want to, Sir. I want to be your favorite. I want to be by your side. Please take me with you."

For a moment, there was silence, then Astarion let out a hum of satisfaction followed by a deep breath.

"Oh, you are, darling. You are my favorite. I've longed for this moment for so long, yearned for it every damned day and night, and finally, it's here. Let's be together forever, alright? It'll hurt only a little, and then we'll always be together."

"What will hurt?" you asked before you felt the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your arm. You knew this pain, the searing burn of his fangs piercing your skin. You had felt it a hundred times, no, a thousand. But this one was short-lived, blood dripping from your hand as you bit your lip, holding back the tears. No one liked tears, and you were too close to your goal to ruin it now. 

"Endure it," he purred, and it was almost a shame that he noticed, considering how much you fought yourself to keep your composure. "You'll have to bare this beautiful neck of yours if you want to be mine, darling."

There was another moment of hesitation, the taut skin of your neck always hurting the most if he bit it. But why even did he have to bite you? What good were two more bites of you in this dark cell when he could assume you'd be at his beck and call upstairs as well? Astarion couldn't know of your feeble escape plans yet, so he had no reason to doubt your devotion. And even if he did, wouldn't he enjoy feeding from you in one of the more comfortable beds he mentioned?

But pondering was of no use to you. You had to comply if you wanted your dreams to come true. Turning towards him and laying your head to the side, you could feel your hair fall out of the way, baring your neck so beautifully. "Yes, Sir," was your short, meager reply, and yet your arm immediately fell to your side, one of Astarion's hands wrapping around the back of your head while the other weighed down on your shoulder, keeping you in place. 

 "That's a good pet," he mumbled, face inching closer to your body with every spoken word. You braced yourself for the pain, the burning, the mess it would make, and you took it like a champ, which you probably were after all those bites—at first. However, all the bites before eventually ended. They never lasted more than a few minutes at worst. But not this one, and that's when you realized your mistake. 

You gasped as you reached for him, grabbing his clothes like a lifeline to hold onto. Tears fell freely as the pain didn't stop, your body growing lighter while Astarion had little problems keeping you in place. "It hurts!" you sobbed as your thoughts became less reasonable, less controlled. Everything began to swim, and though you were sitting, you felt like you were going to fall. But even as you struggled to stay conscious, Astarion didn't stop, didn't care. 

By the time you realized you were going to die, it was already much too late. Your life was drained out of you with all of your blood. At least you didn't have to feel the pain of your crushed hope or the desperation of, once again, being stuck in this cold and lonely darkness. If you were honest, you looked forward to escaping all of this, as had been your destiny for so long. At least this way, you'd be free, too. Differently than you thought, but free nonetheless.

"Mhm, darling. Even now, you're ravishingly beautiful."

You could hear the voice, but your body had no blood left to supply your brain, so it could understand anything. You didn't even feel his uncharacteristically warm fingers smear a thick fluid to your lips, slipping in to coat your tongue, reflexes working even when you were as good as dead. 

"And you're mine. All mine."

At least you wouldn't have to die in this dark cell, though you had no strength left to think about what shithole you'd be thrown into instead. Your body was but a sack of skin and bones in his arms as he carried you outside, your head empty like your blood vessels. But even as you lay dying in Astarion's arms, getting carried away, you knew one thing for sure: You hated it. The pain and the blood. The cold and this evil man that had held you like a cattle for so long only to kill you just like everyone else in the end. You hated him. You hated everything.

And most, you hated the darkness that continued to surround you, enveloping you mercilessly as it cooperated with your murderer. Unaware that you, too, were meant to succumb to it. That your dying body was changing into that of a child of the night, a spawn to the very same lonely vampire you so willingly promised eternity to in exchange for what you believed had been your path to 'freedom'. The same freedom you'd never have now.

Because you were his favorite.

And he'd never let his favorite spawn leave.

[anthurak]

So by this point, I think many of us are likely familiar with the idea that the breakup of Team RWBY at the end of Volume 3 is meant to thematically parallel the breakup of Team STRQ in the wake of Summer’s death, ie; Ruby falls into a coma for a few days while Summer disappears and then both their teams fracture. Along with a popular sub-theory that Blake leaving Yang after the Fall is meant to parallel Raven leaving Tai.

But the thing is, if Ruby falling into a coma at the end of Volume 3 is meant to parallel Summer’s (supposed) death and the way this loss caused the fracturing and breakup of their respective teams, then Raven’s actions DON’T really parallel Blake nearly as well as a lot of people think.

And in fact, I feel like Qrow could potentially have paralleled Blake’s actions FAR better.

Like people talk about how Raven ‘abandoned’ Tai just like Blake ran away from Yang after the Fall of Beacon. Except if the point of parallel to the Fall of Beacon is Summer’s death, then the parallel doesn’t work because Raven was ALREADY GONE from Team STRQ by the time Summer disappeared. To the point where Tai, Qrow and Ozpin had (and still have) NO IDEA she was even involved in whatever happened to Summer. Raven can’t exactly have abandoned Tai just like Blake did to Yang if Raven wasn’t even around.

Instead, as I’ve discussed in the past, I think Raven’s actions following Summer’s ‘death’ potentially line up far better with WEISS. Like if it turns out that losing Summer was what actually drove Raven to return to her tribe, then that lines up very nicely with Weiss being taken back to her family/Atlas in the wake of the Fall of Beacon: Both return to the shitty, abusive family that raised them. And given how much of Weiss’s character is tied up in her family and their ‘legacy’, then the way Raven eventually took over her tribe makes her an ideal foil; effectively representing a Weiss who did eventually take over the Schnee family and company, but in the process internalized all the pain and trauma her family gave her.

And as for a cherry on top; if Ruby falling into a coma after the Fall of Beacon is meant to parallel Summer’s supposed ‘death’, then what was one of the last things Ruby did at the Fall?

Run off on a special mission with Weiss, just like we now know Summer did with Raven.

Now going back to my point about how Raven was not even around to abandon Tai just like Blake did to Yang, you know who WAS presumably around when Summer ‘died’?

Yeah; Qrow.

Let’s consider what exactly Blake actually did following the Fall of Beacon beyond just a surface-level reading: Yes, she did go back to her family, similar to what Raven may have done, but given that the Belladonnas are NOT actually shitty and abusive, I maintain that Weiss is still the better parallel to Raven. Instead, let’s consider Blake’s whole arc across Volumes 4 and 5 relating to the White Fang: At first being depressed over loss and perceived failure before being inspired to start working for a better cause, in this case pushing back against and stopping Adam’s takeover of the White Fang.

So I have to wonder; what if this reflects what Qrow did with Ozpin and the conspiracy following Summer’s ‘death’? Maybe Qrow and his teammates had helped Ozpin in the past and knew what he was doing, but what if THIS was the point where Qrow became fully committed to Ozpin’s cause and joined the Ozluminati full-time? Perhaps seeing it as a way of ‘honoring’ Summer’s memory.

Instead of staying with the one teammate he had left (and possible partner) who was now in a massive depressive spiral AND had two kids to take care of.

It starts to make Qrow and Tai feel a lot like Blake and Yang, doesn’t it?

This is one of the big reasons why I think Qrow and Tai are the REAL foil to Bumbleby on Team STRQ. They effectively give us a look at a version of Blake and Yang whose relationship failed. Or rather, were never able to ‘take the next step’ and actually form their relationship.

Qrow is a Blake who fully internalized her self-loathing and belief that she didn’t deserve Yang or that Yang was better off without her and has simply been pining for Yang from afar.

Meanwhile Tai is a Yang who likewise fully internalized her fears of abandonment and fully resents Blake for leaving her or may not have ever even fully recognized her feelings for Blake in the first place.

Essentially, Qrow and Tai are the version of Blake and Yang who weren’t able to work through all the problems, issues and baggage which allowed them to actually start their relationship. Like a Blake who didn’t get that vital pep-talk from Sun at the end of Volume 4, or a Yang who likewise didn’t get that vital talk from Weiss in Volume 5.

Which in turn leads us to what I brought up earlier with Qrow joining up with the Ozluminati full-time, essentially representing a Blake who threw herself into reforming the White Fang instead of returning to Team RWBY and reconnecting with Yang. Meanwhile Tai simply throws himself into a deep depression, grief and ‘moping’, ironically all the things he would later accuse Yang of doing (at some point I’m going to do a post on just how much PROJECTING Tai has likely been doing…)

So now Qrow and Tai have this low-key toxic relationship where Qrow is more-or-less aware of Tai’s extremely dysfunctional parenting but has also been enabling it and a lot of Tai’s unhealthy coping mechanisms over the years because he’s been pining for Tai ever since their Beacon days and still is pining in a very depressed, self-loathing ‘I don’t deserve him/to be happy’ way and also doesn’t want to risk conflict with his former partner and also the only teammate he has left.

Thus Qrow keeps his distance and just goes along with Tai’s dysfunctions and/or lets Tai push him away. Which in turn just reinforces Tai’s abandonment issues.

And Ruby and Yang are still stuck with utterly dysfunctional parental figures.

Oh, and if you need more proof about the deliberate parallels between Blake and Qrow…

Then how about the whole damn song where they sing about how they’ve always felt terrible about themselves but now things are looking up for them.

[bucks-babe]

maybe angel!reader helping bucky thru a panic attack? like he thinks when he dies hes gonna suffer in hell for the stuff the winter soldier did and we calm him down and help him? u can add smut if u want but u dont have to !!

My Guardian, My Angel, My Love

Pairing: Bucky x angel!reader

Summary: For the first time Bucky gets to experience peace because of his sweet angel.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Angst?, actually a lot of angst, I don’t know how it got that way but it did, it gets happy though, fluff, smut (I can’t help myself), oral f!receiving, handjob, awkward sex talk, like really awkward, talk about heaven and dying, talk about life after death and immortality, angels based off of Supernatural but I changed a few things, blood, nearly dying, gunshots, reader doesn’t have a soul but can still love because I said so, reader knows when and how everyone dies but can’t tell them, reader has wings, 3rd person, age gap (reader is eons old), wings being a metaphor for sexual assault?, think Maleficent, no use of Y/N, so many emotions

A/N: This is not supposed to force any religion nor be an accurate representation of any religion. I din't go with panic attack, rather I had him almost die. I was feeling angsty

The moment Bucky’s knees hit the ground he knows it's over, that this is the end. He knew this was the way he would go out, on a mission, desperately trying to atone all his misdeeds. Tendrils of pain shot throughout his stomach, blood seeping through his fingers. When his side hit the ground, he knew it wouldn’t be too long before he went, limbs feeling too heavy. He couldn’t hear Steve screaming for help, scrambling for anything to stop the bleeding.

What Bucky did hear though, was a ruffle, almost like a flock of birds flying by, then a figure he’d never seen before stood above him. She’s here to take me. It didn’t strike Bucky as odd that she was the only thing that was clear, the rest of his view blurry and unfocused. He tried to speak, he really did, but no words came out, the breath leaving his lungs not enough to push any words out.

The woman crouches down, hand cupping his cheek with such softness tears leave his eyes, wiped away by Steve in the quinjet who seemingly can’t see her. “Close your eyes, my love. When you wake up, I’ll be there.” Fuck, this is really happening. Fear coursed through his body, scared of what punishment his sins earned him. I deserve to go to hell for what I’ve done. 

A guttural whine passes his lips; Steve chokes back sobs next to his lifelong friend. “Shh, none of that, now. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise. You can rest now.” All at once, the pain is gone. Bucky feels like he’s floating - it’s wonderful.

Bucky has no problem opening his eyes. What the fuck? This is hell? Well damn. The most wonderful sound meets his ears - a giggle, soft and delicate. “No, my love, this is not hell and you’re not dead.” She comes into view. She’s gorgeous. Wait, I’m alive! Apparently, Bucky says that last part because Steve’s gasp enters his ears.

“Yeah, Buck, you’re alive. Gave us a scare though, didn’t uh, didn’t know if you would make it.” Bucky doesn’t respond right away, too busy looking around for his mystery woman, only to be met with the walls of the med bay. “Hey, I’m right here, Buck, look at me.” It’s not the woman, rather it’s Steve.

“How long was I out? What happened?”

“A few days. It was touch and go for some time but you bounced back. When we were on the mission, Hydra had a sniper posted outside. He got you right in the stomach.” Bucky could hear the emotion in Steve’s voice, the fear of losing his best friend still leaving him shaken up.

“Well, they’re a pretty shitty shot if you ask me. Could have gotten one right between the eyes with one of those shit guns we got in the war.” Steve coughs out a laugh, turning into a belly laugh a few seconds later. Bucky would laugh with him, but the bullet wound in his abdomen says he shouldn’t. He still doesn’t see the woman, though. Maybe I just made her up. 

A few days later, doctor Cho gives him the all clear to leave the med bay; however, he’s off duty for the foreseeable future and not any amount of his grumbling changed her mind. Still, Bucky hasn’t seen the woman. He feels a little crazy that he misses her, well crazier. 

Slowly, he makes his way to his room. Steve offered to help but Bucky wanted to do this on his own, having been tended to his whole stay in hospital. He puts in his password on the keypad Tony installed when Bucky first arrived, when the fear that Hydra would come back and take him was too much to bear. His room is the same way he left it, except for a woman on his bed. Not just any woman though, it was his mystery lady. 

Someone’s gonna have to put me in the cuckoo's nest. She laughs as if she can hear his thoughts. God, I hope not. “God has bigger things to worry about than such an inconspicuous fear as that, my love.” She sits up, facing him, the most beautiful smile gracing her lips.

“Can you hear my thoughts?” He feels like he already knows the answer, but asks anyway. If this woman is made up, of course she can read his mind. She just smiles and rises to her feet, walking over to him.

“What do you think, my love?” She tilts her head, a soft smile still resides on her lips. He feels so safe with her and she isn’t even real, just a figment of his imagination, a ruse to comfort himself in what he thought were his last moments. “I am very real, I’ll have you know.”

Bucky doesn’t know why, but he believes her. He believes this woman who showed up randomly on a field, who his best friend couldn’t see, and who disappeared without a trace. “How then? How did you do it?”

“Do what, my love?” She grabs his hand and leads him to the bed, helping him sit, finding a spot next to him.

“Save me, hear my thoughts, hide from Steve, disappear, get into my room, all of it. It’s not natural. Either you’re a ghost, or a mutant, or a reaper who was trying to take me. I don’t know, but you’re something.” Another laugh escapes her. He should be terrified of her, but he can’t find it in himself to be, her presence emanating calm.

“Well aren’t you a clever one? However, I’m none of those things nor did I save you. It just wasn’t your time yet. I’m an angel, though, to answer your question.” Bucky just stares, not believing her. This has to be a joke. “No joke, my love. If you want, I can prove it to you.” Bucky doesn’t even question why she calls him my love, the sound of it just too nice to stop.

Bucky just nods, words failing him. She rises to her feet, turning to stand in front of him. He hears them before he sees them, the same ruffle he heard as he lay dying. Then he sees them. A pair of dark wings coming from her back. She doesn’t spread them all the way, too big to fit in the small space of his room. “They’re black.” She throws her head back, a loud, beautiful laugh fills his ears. 

“That was your first thought? You don’t like them? Personally I think they’re quite nice.” It was the first thing that came to his mind, the rest blank. Maybe he should have asked for more proof, but he knows she would never lie to him. He doesn’t know how he knows, he just does. 

“I don’t know. I guess I just thought they’d be white. With the whole angel thing, you know?” She hums.

“There is a lot humans have wrong about us. I mean, plenty of us have white wings, but they come in many colors. If you can believe it, this isn’t even my true form.” Bucky is confused, she looks so real. A tangible human, someone he can touch.

“What is your true form then? Can I see it?” That’s a little personal to ask, dumbass.

“Well, that is a little complicated. Only one human has seen my true form and it didn’t go well. I thought she could handle it, but when she saw me, well let’s just say she couldn’t see from then on.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting that answer. “Anything else you want to ask me?”

Her wings are still out, folded against her back. They look so soft. “Can I touch your wings?” Her wings shift slightly. If he wasn’t trained to observe everything and everyone, Bucky wouldn’t have known that she was uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t know-”

“That’s okay. An angel’s wings are very personal. They’re sensitive and even for an ethereal being, it's very personal - intimate.”Clearing her throat, she changes the subject. “I know your name, my love. Might I say, it’s very pretty, but you don’t know mine.” Bucky picks up on her attempt to move his attention away from her wings.

“What is it then? I can’t call you angel forever, however fitting it may be.”

“Well I don’t exactly have a name. I’m a cherubim. The only angels who have names are the archangels, the first borns.”

It was Bucky’s turn to smile.”My little cherub.” She doesn’t tell him that cherub is the plural of cherubim. Until this day, Bucky didn’t know that angels could get shy, yet here his sweet cherub is, shying away from his piercing eyes. He bets if he felt her face he would feel the heat on them. “I have to ask though, my little cherub, why did you come to me?”

She became serious, staring right into his eyes. “Because God commanded it.”

“What does God want to do with me? Out of all the people in this world, he chose me?” A pained look crossed her face and she walked over to him, kneeling in front of him like he was her God. Her hands ran up his arms, goosebumps rising at the pass of her hands. He almost stopped breathing - he could feel her hand on his left arm. He hasn’t felt anything with that hand since he fell of that train.

Hands still rising, she cups his face with both hands, making him look into her eyes. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.” It wasn’t a question. She knew. “That is why he sent me. He sent me because you deserve it. You deserve to let go.” At that moment, Bucky broke down. Sobbing uncontrollably, somehow without pain in his fresh wound.

She pulls him into her, wrapping her arms around him. His face buried in her neck, arms clutching her back. She hesitates for a second, no one having touched her wings in thousands of years, yet she cocoons him with them, shielding him from the world. It only makes Bucky cry harder, her wings holding every bit of softness he thought they would. The comfort she brings unlike any other he experienced before.

Her arms rub his back as she coos to him. Soft words spoken into his hair. “Shh, my love, I’m here. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again. I will die before I let that happen.” The conviction in her tone sets him off more, unable to comprehend someone would do that for him without a second thought. A being, older than he can even fathom, is ready to give it all away for a mesley human. A speck of dust in her life. His entire existence no longer than a second when compared to hers.

That’s how it was for a while, Bucky’s sweet cherub staying with him. At night she would wrap her wings around him, keeping him safe. Bucky knows that her powers are the reason his nightmares are gone. At first he was glad that he could finally sleep, but then the guilt crept in. Why should he be allowed to forget the horrors he committed? Their families didn’t get that condolence. 

When he told her this she wasn’t having any of it, wings jerking in annoyance. It was something that he picked up on, how when she experienced emotions her wings would move in different ways, always giving her away. 

“I swear, my love, you’re going to make my wings turn gray with all this. I have lived a long life, longer than you can comprehend, so when I tell you that I have seen the best and the worst of this world, I mean it. And you, my love, are a good man. There is a reason God sent me to you.” Her wings surrounded him and he felt himself relax. “There is no quest to send you on, no mission that the world hangs in the balance of. It’s just you. A man who needs to see the good in himself.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, not meeting her eyes.

“You think your purpose is suffering for the things you couldn’t control? My purpose is to save you. My love,” she cups his face in her hands, wiping away the tears he didn’t know had formed, “I have done far worse things in my life. Horrific things, yet I’m here right now, with you. Please, let me take your pain away.”

None of this was easy for Bucky. No one has ever had their sole purpose be him. Back in the forties he took care of Steve, he stepped up when his father left. When he was no longer the Winter Soldier, Steve helped him, but Steve’s care never felt like this. Bucky knows that he’s fallen in love with her. He knows that she knows, but what he doesn’t know is if she feels the same.

What he doesn’t know is that she is fighting the same battle, the feeling of love is one she has never had before. It all came to a head one night, Bucky wrapped in her wings, her head on his chest. “Cherub?” She felt the vibrations in his chest.

“Yes, my love.”

“You said that we could be together for the rest of my life, right?” She did say that when he was worried that she would leave him after her mission was complete.

“I did.” One thing about her is that she never gave long answers to questions, not used to having to talk with humans.

“What happens when I die? Where will I go? I want you to be there with me.”

She sighed, thinking about how to convey her words properly. “When you die… you’ll go to heaven. It has already been decided. If you choose, when you go, I will be there with you for the rest of our existence, but you don’t have to make a decision now. My body will age with yours, follow you to the end of your life. When your time comes, we will leave and go to heaven where we will both be young again.”

Without hesitation Bucky answers, “I want that. I want you to be with me for the rest of eternity.” There was no doubt in his mind. Even though he met her a few months ago, he knew. “I have to ask, what is heaven like?”

She sits up a bit, shifting to lay on his chest, wings still cocooning them, keeping them in their own little bubble. “There is no one heaven. Not everyone who ever went there is in the same place. Heaven is made up of small pockets of personal heavens. People who lost their loved ones meet again, your happiest memories are relived, there is no pain or sorrow, you can have anything you want.”

Bucky felt the pull of his chest, emotion bubbling up. “Is my ma there? And Becca?” The words come out thick, a lump forms in Bucky’s throat. “Please, don’t lie to me.”

She looks into his eyes. “Yes, they are. They’re together and they’re waiting for you. I have seen them myself, right before I left to meet you. They talk very highly of you, my love.”

Tears fall from his face, the pain in his chest all the time at the greatest loss of his life eased slightly. “Can I talk to them?” He knows it's a long shot, but if there is a chance he wants it.

“I’m so sorry, my love, but I can’t. Even I don’t have the power to do that. If I could, I would.” A pained whine leaves his lips. “Hey, you know who is waiting for you too?” She waits a beat before speaking anyway. “Your dog from when you were a kid. He’s in his prime, always will be. His days are spent chasing rabbits around the yard.”

“Balto’s up there too?” A small smile graced his face, crows feet appearing by his eyes.

“Yeah. If it is any consolation, time passes differently up there. The longing you feel right now for them, they feel the same only it’s made easier by us.” Bucky only nods, staring into her eyes, seeing nothing but truth. His eyes flicker to her lips and back up. “You can, my love, I want you to.”

That was all Bucky needed to hear. Gently cupping her cheek, he guided her lips to his. There was no rush, no sense of urgency. They had all the time in the world and then some. Bucky never felt anything this good in his life and he was only kissing her. When she licked his lips, he opened mouth without a thought, brain clouded with love just for her. 

He moaned into the kiss, the feeling of her tongue on his incredible. At his sound, Bucky felt her wings flutter under him. Breaking the kiss, he giggled. Bucky actually giggled. She reared her head back, slightly affronted by his laugh when she just kissed him.

“I’m sorry, my little cherub, it’s just that your wings tickled me.” She huffs and a second later, her wings are gone the only sign they were ever out is the small black feather on the bed. “No, cherub, don’t put them away. I love them.” She wasn’t really offended, but she wanted to tease him a bit.

Her wings were always out around Bucky, comfortable enough to reveal the most intimate and personal part of herself to him. He was the first human in thousands of years to touch them, but he was the only one to be wrapped in them. The only time they were touched was when a man cut them off her back. It was a time when she trusted humans, not knowing the atrocities they were capable of. 

Her wings were white then, when she was pure and unknowing of the hate humans possessed. God crafted her a new pair. Of course she accepted them, but her feathers turned black, scared she looked to her father. When he said that it was because of the wrongs his creations did, it broke something in her, took away her purity, teaching her a lesson. Father never blamed her for it, he knew she would heal with time. It was part of the reason he sent her to the man she lays in bed with.

Bucky didn’t know this, he didn’t know how much she was betrayed by humans, only for her to trust him and him alone. She playfully glares at him before bringing her wings back out, sitting up on his lap. Gently, more gentle than he has been in years, Bucky reaches out to touch them. She lets him feel them whenever he wants, even wrapping him in them as he sleeps, but this was a completely different setting.

She was so vulnerable at this moment. Her wings flapped, a nervous tick of her’s, making Bucky pull away immediately. “Cherub, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She swallows before meeting his eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to touch them. It’s just that only one other human has touched them. There was a time where I was naive and innocent, not knowing what humans were capable of.” She pauses and Bucky sits up, back against the headboard and laces his fingers with hers, feeling the softness on his metal hand.

“It was a man, he had a family, a kid and a wife. They struggled to survive, trading their valuables for a slice of bread. Father sent me to help them, take away their sorrows. Said he was an honest man trying to make an honest living.” Bucky senses where her story is going, hoping that it doesn’t end the way he fears, but the pain in her eyes is palpable, a human emotion angels almost never experience.

He waits for her to continue, not forcing her to speak. “At first, they were grateful, having everything they needed. They had their health, food on the table, but the man grew greedy. He wanted more. One day, as I was watching his child in a field, keeping her safe from the horrors of the world, he snuck behind me with a sword he got from a blacksmith, sharper than any blade. He-he cut my wings right off my back.”

Tears fell from her eyes, not having relived that moment for thousands of years. Bucky felt his heart physically ache. She was sent to heal him, but it was his turn to do the same. “You know, my wings used to be white?” She looks into his eyes, red with tears. “When he hurt me, Father took me back to heaven, crafting me another pair. They were white but when he gave them to me, they turned black.”

A whine leaves her lips and Bucky pulls her into him, careful not to touch her wings. “Oh, my sweet little cherub, I’m here and I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I’ve never felt as content as I have with you, never so happy and I will do anything to keep you safe. I love you, no matter what you have done, I’ll still love you.” This only made her cry harder. Human emotions were foreign to her, but spending so much time with Bucky caused her to develop them. It was almost overwhelming, going from not having anything to having so much fill her body.

“Father said that it was because the man took my innocence, showed me the evil of the world. I’ve never seen him apologize for anything, yet that day he was broken, realizing that his creations, even the ones he thought were good, are capable of unspeakable atrocities. They will never turn white again because I’m ruined.” Tears welled up in Bucky’s eyes. His sweet cherub thinking she is anything less than perfect breaks his heart.

“My cherub, you saved me, now let me do the same for you. Let me heal you like you have me.” Leaning back slightly, she took his hands in her own, drawing them up her waist to her back, moving them to touch her wings. At his touch, she gasped, eyes closing forcing more tears to cascade down her face. The feeling of his gentle hands, hands that have done so much harm, resting on the most violated part of her body was something she never thought would happen.

She didn’t know she could love until she met Bucky, finally placing a word to the indescribable warmth that spreads throughout her body every time she thinks of him. “I love you too, my love. Forever and ever, til you die, til the end of time, in heaven and on earth.” They were both crying, neither experiencing the tenderness of love before.

He brings her down, kissing her with as much passion as he possibly could, tasting the mixture of both of their tears. Her arms clutching onto him, trying to get closer. He did the same, one hand running across her wings like he was trying to wash away the taint of betrayal his kind caused. 

Shifting on his lap, she feels the bulge of his cock, half hard pressed up against her. Gasping, she pulls away. “Cherub, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, it just-.” She silences him with her lips, drawing a groan from him, subconsciously grinding down onto him. “Cherub, we have to stop, I don’t want to take advantage of you. You’re vulnerable right now, I can’t do that to you.”

Her hips stutter on his. “My love, I want to, I need to. Need to be closer to you, please grant me this.” His hands run up and down her sides, soothing the heat of her skin.

“Any time you want to stop, or don’t like something, you tell me. Okay? This is about me showing you how perfect you are.” She nods, kissing him one more time. Bucky’s hands slide up her shirt, resting on her soft skin, palms feeling the goosebump under his touch. Looking up at her for permission to take her shirt off, she nods.

Bucky did that with every piece of clothing, every move he made. Soon they were both naked, her wings splayed out on the bed, twitching in a way he never saw before - arousal. “My, my love, I have to tell you something.” He pulls his eyes away from her wings to look into her eyes. “I’ve never done this before. Angels, we don’t do this, I don’t know what to feel right now.” 

Hands cupping her cheeks, he smiles at her, relaxing into his touch. “Do you feel safe?” She nods. “Do you feel like you have to do this for me?” She shakes her head. “Do you want me to please you?” She nods once again. “We don’t have to do anything with this,” he gestures to his throbbing erection. 

“I want to, I just need you to show me what to do.” The thought that she trusts him enough to take care of her makes his cock pulse, aching for some type of relief.

“Let me make you feel good, okay? All you have to do is lay back and tell me how it feels.” She nods her head in understanding, worries slowly fading away. He kisses down her body, taking the time to swirl his tongue around his sensitive nipples, grinning at the small gasp it draws from his cherubs lips.

Going further down, his face is right in front of her pussy, smelling her intoxicating scent. “Keep your eyes on me, cherub.” She gulps. For a minute, Bucky just stares at her pussy, breathing her in, memorizing how wet she is before his tongue flicks out onto her clit. 

“Oh, that feels good. Can you do it again?” She was so sweet, asking so kindly for him to deliver her pleasure.

“Of course I can.” And with that, Bucky dives into her pussy, restraining himself from devouring her. He groans into her cunt, already addicted to her taste, the moans she lets out are soft and breathy, yet it’s one of the most beautiful things he's ever heard, only competition being her laugh.

“My love, I don’t, what is happening to me?” Bucky pulls away from her cunt, reaching up to lace their hands together. 

“Just let that feeling wash over you. It’s okay, I’ll catch you when you fall, I’m here.” He goes right back to her pussy, lapping her juices up, eyes boring into hers. She was twitching on the bed, hips bucking up to meet his tongue. Bucky chuckles when he sees her wings flap, not knowing what to do with the pleasure coursing through her.

Her orgasm comes as a surprise to her, never experiencing one before, nor knowing what they were. Her eyes shoot open, wings beating wildly, body almost convulsing on the soft sheets. Bucky pulls away, not trying to overstimulate her. He almost cums at the sight of her, it was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

It takes her a while, but she comes down, wings falling limp on the bed as Bucky crawls up her body, resting in between her legs. “My love, what was that? I thought I was about to die.” 

Barking out a laugh, Bucky leans down. “That was an orgasm, sweet cherub. How did it feel?” She whines, not able to put what she felt into words.

“Like nothing I have ever felt before. It was incredible.” Her eyes close. Bucky is perfectly happy to hold her, not caring about his own orgasm, but her eyes shoot open, wide and curious. “Can you have one, too?”

Another laugh leaves him. “Yes, cherub, I can. It’s a little different from yours though.” Her eyes squint in confusion, clearly not understanding what could be different. “Well, for one, what I have looks a little different to yours, doesn’t it?” She nods. Bucky never thought he would be giving “The Talk” to an angel, but here he was. “When I have an orgasm, stuff comes out of this tip, right here.” He grabs his cock to show her. 

“Can I see it? How do I make you do that?” It was Bucky’s turn to be surprised. 

“Cherub, you don’t have to do that.” Her glare is enough to make Bucky continue. “Um, there are a few different ways. I could put it inside of you, that feels good for you too.”

“In where?” Bucky huffs, not in annoyance, but this talk is turning him off. Not that he’s mad at that, but the conversation feels like talking to a child, someone who hasn’t experienced anything sexual and it wasn’t exactly turning him on, it felt wrong to have this talk naked.

“In this hole right under where I was touching you. There is another one under that, but it’s different from the other. Or your mouth, but also a hand. Pretty much anything that could rub against that area.” Bucky felt his cheeks heat up. His cock was going soft right in front of her eyes.

“Can I do one? I want to see you orgasm.” Her eyes were so bright and eager, he couldn’t say no to his cherub. He nods, only for her to glance down at his soft cock. “Why is it smaller now? I think it’s kind of cute.”

This has to be the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to him. No woman has ever called his dick cute, or made a comment on its size when soft. He gets compliments on how big he is when he’s hard, but soft is a different story. He’s a grower not a shower. He has to admit, his encounter is damaging his ego a bit. “It gets bigger when I’m aroused, but if it’s not touched it gets softer.” He’s lying straight through his teeth, he can stay hard for hours without touching his dick.

“If you touch it, it gets big again.” She switches positions, having him on his back, resting between his legs, face right next to his cock. He feels himself twitch and she jerks her head in surprise, giggling at her own reaction. She begins to almost pet him, it feels good but not what he needs.

He reaches down, guiding her hand to gather the precum at his tip, slowly pulling it back down, tightening her grip on his dick. “Oh, wow, it’s getting bigger. It’s so hard.” Her amazement at something so simple as a dick getting hard is endearing. 

Bucky grunts when he twists her hand. “I liked that sound.” Her words make him groan again, cock all the way hard. His hips buck into her hand and he lets her hand go, trusting her to keep her pace. It’s slow but firm, driving him insane. He wants her to go faster, harder, but this is about her, letting her discover at her own pace.

“Spit on the tip, it’ll make it easier to move.” She does so without hesitation. Bucky’s head flies back into the headboard, moaning at her soft hands working his cock. “Just like that, cherub, you’re doing so good. This feels incredible.” Bucky meant every word of it. Her hand honestly felt better than the full blown sex he’s had in the past. Maybe it was because he loved her with all his heart, or maybe it was because she was an angel, either way, Bucky didn’t have it in himself to care.

“You look so pretty like this, my love. I love this, making you feel good.” Bucky’s hips pick up speed, feeling his orgasm building up in the base of his cock. 

“Cherub, I’m going to cum. Please keep going just like that.” She figures he means orgasm since he is jerking just like she was. The urge to make him orgasm was almost too much to bear, wanting him to show her how beautiful he was when he lets go. “Oh, cherub, I’m about to, oh fuck.” He moans long and loud, cum spurting out of his tip. She gasps at the force of it but doesn’t let up her pace. She had never seen anything more beautiful than her love in this moment.

He has to stop her, not knowing that he needed a break. “Love, I want to make you do that again.” She scoops some of his cum off his stomach with her finger and just stares at it.

“You can taste it if you’d like.” She eagerly licks her fingers, eyes bulging at his taste, dropping down to lick the rest of it off his body. “Come here, cherub.” He pulls her into a kiss, tasting himself on her tongue. He pulls the cover over their bodies, her wings instinctively wrapping around him.

“Thank you, my love, for always taking care of me. I was sent to save you, yet I feel that it’s the other way around.” Bucky doesn’t think so. He knows that she saved him. They fall asleep together and in the morning they will find that her wings are just a bit lighter than the night before.

[shaunamilfman]

i had died the tiniest death

summary: You've gotten used to the feeling of being watched since you broke up with your girlfriend, Shauna Shipman, but you never thought it was more than just your imagination till now. Still, maybe you should have been more afraid to wake up to your scantily clad ex-girlfriend straddling you than you are. A/N: based on this post by @deerlottie . wrote this in three hours i fear. im so normal about her i swear

You wake up with a start, bringing your hands up to rub wearily at your eyes as you breathe out a sigh. You've been having the weirdest dreams, night after night. You'd started to get paranoid lately that Shauna was following you, lurking at the edges of your vision and quickly disappearing from sight the second you whirled around to look. You knew how crazy it sounded, but the fear was even bleeding into your dreams. 

You turn your head to look at your nightstand, nearly groaning at the time staring back from your alarm clock. Knowing you had to be up in four hours did nothing for the crushing weight on your chest– weight on your chest? 

You close your eyes as you turn your head back, dreading having to open them. You peek one eye open, your whole body tensing as you attempt to quell your instinctive urge to scream.

“Shauna, what the fuck?” You spit out, staring up warily at her as she looms above you in the darkness. Your voice is shaky, but you try to infuse it with a hint of annoyance in an attempt to mask your fear.

You shift anxiously beneath her, pinned down by the weight of her. You knew you could get her off of you if you had to, but you weren't keen on pissing her off before you knew why she was here. Pulling a knife on you wasn't something you'd ever put past Shauna, and that was before you had actual confirmation she was stalking you. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up,” She complains, shifting her weight from her knees to your hips as you instinctively grab at her waist. You can just barely make out her smile at the action as she leans forward, boxing your head in with her arms as she places her palms flat on the bed on either side.

“I missed my girlfriend,” Shauna whispers, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face as she stares down lovingly.

“Your girlfriend–” You start, trailing off as you struggle to articulate the multitude of questions running through your mind. You catch yourself, quickly realizing that it isn’t your most pressing concern. “How long have you been here? How did you get here?”

“So many questions,” She murmurs, her breath warm against your ear as she breathes in the scent of your hair. “Can’t you just enjoy it?” She exhales shakily, nosing against your neck with a desperate noise.

You have to bite your lip to stop a sigh from escaping, shivering under the ministrations despite your best efforts. “No, Shauna. You broke into my house.”

“I didn’t break into your house,” She denies, a hint of a smirk on her face as she continues. “This is an apartment.”

“God, you’re such a bitch.” You tense as Shauna jerks away, sitting back up on your hips to glare down at you.

“A bitch?” She scoffs, looking angry for the first time tonight. She grabs at your throat as you try to speak, effectively cutting off your sentence with an embarrassing squeak as she quite literally takes your breath away.

“You don’t get to call me a bitch after everything I’ve done for us.” Shauna shakes her head, only letting go of your throat as you nod quickly in response. You gasp for air the second she allows it, staring up at her in a mix of disbelief and fear. Shauna had always been a little rough, but this was something else, even for her.

“For us?” You wheeze.

Shauna nods, giving you a crazed smile that’s honestly hotter than it should be. “You made a mistake breaking up with me.”

“I can see that,” You say dryly. Shauna squeezes warningly at your throat, and you certainly don’t need to be told twice.

“I kept waiting for you to realize it, but you’ve always been so damn stubborn, haven’t you?” You stay quiet, staring up at her as you try to will your heart to stop pounding in your chest.

“And then you started talking to other girls,” She continues, an accusing frown on her face.

Your eyes widen as the thought suddenly crosses your mind. “Are… Are you the reason Jenny runs away crying whenever she sees me?”

Shauna nods eagerly, looking happy to have her efforts recognized. “I had to have a talk with her. She needed to know that you’re mine.”

Jesus.

“You are, aren’t you?” Her gaze is intense, searching the depths of your soul as her hands play with the hem of her shirt. “I just want to know that you’re still mine.”

You reach blindly for your nightstand as you maintain eye contact, nearly crying in relief as your fist closes around the new phone Shauna had gotten you a few months ago for your birthday. It seemed oddly fitting to call the cops on her with it. You’re just about to dial 911 when you catch sight of something… interesting. 

You let it slip from your fingers as your hand comes up to the hem of her shirt, pulling it taut so you can get a better look at it.

“Are you– are you wearing my jersey? Where did you even get that from?” You ask in disbelief. 

Shauna stares down at you for a moment before rolling her eyes. “Closet, obviously.” She says wryly. “Good thing you're pretty.”

You scoff, pinching the soft skin of her thighs between your fingers. Shauna gasps in pain, hips instinctively rocking into it as she rubs herself against your stomach. Your eyes widen at the feeling, gaze slowly trailing down her body to land on where the hem of your jersey rests against her thighs. 

“Are you wearing anything under this?”

“What do you think?” She smirks, slowly rocking her hips so you can feel the drag of wet flesh against you. 

You wish you could say she wasn’t this crazy when you were dating her, but that wasn’t entirely true. Honestly, the more you thought about it the more this seemed within the realm of possibility when it came to her. You’ve got to stop sticking your dick in crazy.

“I think you need to leave,” You assert firmly, doing your best to ignore the slick feeling as she continues. God, she always got so wet.

“Don’t be like that,” She chides, her voice breaking slightly as she chases the perfect angle. “I need you back. I need to feel you against me. Don’t you want me?”

Oh no. 

The moonlight shining in through the window throws Shauna’s shark-like grin into sharp relief, quickly pouncing on your weakness the second she catches sight of the change in your expression. 

“I just need you so bad. Please?” She rests her hand on your chest as she leans forward, using her other hand to move your hand to her ass. You instinctively squeeze, kneading at the flesh before you even know what happened. Shauna certainly takes it as an encouragement, moaning as she presses herself impossibly closer. You can feel her weight bearing down on your chest, already sure her hand is going to end up leaving a bruise on your chest.

She always loved leaving you bruised, staring at them even through your clothes long after they faded. She was just so damn possessive. No matter how much of you she had,xfi it never seemed like enough. Shauna digs her knees painfully in your sides, already tiring of your mind wandering as she puts on a show.

Your eyes narrow, getting more than tired of this whole thing. You had to put up with her theatrics when you were dating, and you certainly weren’t going to do it now. You grab firmly at her hips as you roll her on her back in a fluid motion, her hands grasping uselessly at your shoulders as the landing knocks the wind out of her. 

You shove your hand between her legs without fanfare, finding her wet and waiting. Shauna's reaction is immediate, her leg wrapping around your hips as she grinds against your hand. 

“Fuck,” She moans shakily, whining in protest as you slap your hand over her mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up,” You hiss angrily, leaning close to nip at the skin of her jaw. “My roommate is home.”

Shauna’s complaint is muffled against your palm, a frustrated look coming to her face that you enjoy more than you should. She squirms beneath you in an attempt to free herself, giving up and planting her foot flat on the bed for leverage instead as she rubs her pussy against your hand.

You hold your hand still as you palm her, watching the way the muscles in Shauna’s thighs flex as she ruts against it. She gives you a pleading look as she licks at your hand, making you wrinkle your face in disgust as you pull your hand away to wipe it on Shauna’s cheek. She huffs, blowing a stray strand of hair at her face as she gives you a dirty look.

You roll your eyes, quick to wipe away the nasty expression on her face as you thrust two fingers into her without warning. Shauna’s back arches off the bed as she bites at her own palm to keep quiet, almost thrashing beneath you as you start a harsh rhythm. Shauna whines in your ear as she grabs desperately at your back, her ragged breathing and the squeaking sounds of your mattress as she tries to meet your rhythm filling the room as you try to get your temper under control.

She was always doing shit like this, and you hated the way she always seems to manipulate you into going along with it. If you were honest with yourself, you knew that this wasn’t healthy for either of you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as she clenches around your fingers.

“You were such a shitty girlfriend. This is all you’re good for, you know that?”

“I wasn’t,” She protests pitifully, rolling her hips as she chases her high.

“You were. Always too busy with Jackie.” You curl your fingers, slamming into her roughly with no regard for her enjoyment. It didn’t seem to matter much, she was just as into it now as she ever was before. It almost makes you angrier. You couldn’t even take your anger out on her without her enjoying it.

“Oh, I can’t. Jackie needs me. Jackie needs this. Jackie, Jackie, Jackie,” You mock in a high-pitched voice, thumbing roughly at her clit in a way you know she’s always hated.

She cries out as she attempts to arch away from the touch but you don’t let her escape from it, pinning her hips down as you make her take it.

“Now you have the nerve to be a fucking creep? Couldn’t make the time of day for me when we were dating, but now you want to follow me around?”

“I’m sorry,” She pleads, almost kicking you as she tries to avoid your thumb.

“Stop fighting,” You huff, curling your fingers as she goes limp beneath you. She stares pathetically up at you, burying her head in your neck when it doesn’t seem to implore you.

You finally take pity on her at the sounds of her heavy breaths as she barely chokes back her tears, slowing back to a more manageable pace as she trails kisses up your neck.

“Tell me you love me,” She whispers commandingly against your ear.

“No.”

“What do you mean no?” She whines, digging her nails into your shoulders as if that will change your mind. You shake your head resolutely, firm on setting at least this one boundary.

“Tell me you love me,” She repeats, pleading this time. “Please. You know I need it. Just once.”

You hesitate for just a beat too long before repeating yourself. “No.”

“Let me have you. Let me show you how much I need you. Don’t you want to make me come?” Her hands slide down your back, thumbing at the waistband of your boxers as she looks at you imploringly. As if sensing your dwindling will to oppose her she throws her head back in a quiet moan, exposing the length of her neck as her eyes slip closed.

You groan irritatedly, throwing caution to the wind as you give in. “I love you.” You notice the smug grin come to her face just a moment too late, but by the time you’ve realized she’s managed to get one over on you again, she’s crying out as she falls apart. 

Your jaw clenches in anger as you work her through it, stoically ignoring the way she murmurs praises and “love you’s” into your ear the whole time. As you start to pull away she wraps her arms tightly around your shoulders, holding you close as she flips you over onto your back. 

You grunt in irritation as you try to push her off you, but she’s just as strong as ever as she manages to pin your arms to your side, burying her face into your chest with a contented noise that relaxes you more than it should be.

“I hate you,” You complain, trying to squirm away as Shauna’s hand makes its way down your stomach and to your boxers.

“No, you don’t,” Shauna says, choosing to be the bigger person for once at not comment on the way your breath hitches as she touches your waistband.

“You’re crazy.”

Shauna laughs lowly, pressing a kiss to your chest as she nods in agreement.

“I don’t want you anymore.” Your voice is hoarse as you push at her shoulders, refusing to be pushed around this easily. It was for your pride if nothing else.

“You don’t get to just throw me away,” Shauna says harshly. “You’re mine and you always will be. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, but we’re going to move past it now.”

You breathe out shakily as Shauna finally slips her fingers beneath the waistband, silently spreading your legs in invitation. “I’ll show you how much you need me,” She promises.

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

A Pirates Life For Me

Pairings: father Killian Jones x child/teen!reader

Imagine: what it would be like to be Killian Jones child

Warnings: none really, mostly fluff, and Killian Jones being the best father ever, I guess there’s some spoilers for those who haven’t watched all seasons I guess, mention of when he died, NOT proofread yet

A/N back to writing ya’ll (hopefully), thought I’d start it of easy with some headcanons, so a few other will come out too but this is the first because recently I’ve been obsessing over Killian again along with Obi-Wan Kenobi and Hunter (from tbb)

Side note half of this got deleted and couldn’t really remember what I wrote so it’s definitely not as good as the first draft

First things first you were raised on the Jolly Roger, you would most probably grow up as a pirate, and when old enough you’d help him fighting against the other pirates that would attack you at times

I’m sorry but you’re gonna have to deal with wearing dark colored clothes, he doesn’t do light color therefore neither do you at least until you’re old enough to decide for yourself what clothes you want

You’d beg Killian to buy you the biggest hat ever as you read somewhere that pirates has hats, he never bought you that hat… he did steal a tiny hat that fit you perfectly though…

He was scared to death that he would be like his own father, but don’t worry he’s both like that he’s the best and he’d never leave you like that

Your initials are written beside the wheel (you know where he wrote with his hook for Bae/Neal)

Things you carved into the ship as a kid can still be seen in the most random places

He childproofed the ship, put child locks on nearly every cabinet not knowing if it was child appropriate things in them as the crew would put their things in random places, he did not find the thought of you finding a knife, sword, or gun and accidentally hurt yourself very comforting

Adopted child, biological child, doesn’t matter he loves you the same.

Depending on when you were born you might of watched The Dark One rip the heart out of your father’s lover

One of many traumatic events

Killian values you more than anything else, if he had to choose between revenge or you, he’d always choose you, he’d do anything for you even if it meant him dying

He still knows how to say no to things though

He made a mental list in his head on things he would teach you

1. How to sail

2. How to navigate with stars

3. Sword fighting

4. How to survive on Neverland (just in case Pan decided to kidnap you or something to mess with him)

5. How to escape from Neverland

6. What plants are poisonous or not

7. Do not make deals with the dark one

And then the list goes on and on, he would want to teach you everything he knows about everything really, he just doesn’t want you to make the same mistakes he did, or to end up being a villain as he wants you to get your happy ending

Somewhere along the road you got dragged into wanting to help your father get revenge, nearly succeeded in multiple occasions, but as it turns out villains don’t really get their revenge

You once made the crew find a hook and clothes similar to Killian’s and later on that day you’d run up to Killian, hand clutching a hook and act as if you were the captain of the ship, imitating your father (with a really bad “adult” voice). He would let out a wide smile, eyes twinkling and a soft gaze as he looked down at you trying to reach the wheel. He’d eventually pick you up and let you steer the destination as he helped you turn the wheel the other way than he had set the course too. This was also the first time he taught you how to sail. Or somewhat, it wasn’t like you took much of the information in as you soon got bored and went to watch over the railing at the crashing waves.

Btw I’m tired of fics where Captain Hooks child likes Peter Pan, why because a parents ideals usually sets with the child, meaning you’d probably hate Peter Pan and Rumplestiltskin as much as your father does

He would tell you stories of his older brother and how he was a hero and he wished you’d met him, you would eventually in hell though later as you went to rescue your father so that’s fine, turns out he wasn’t the hero your father made him out to be, but that’s fine you only need one hero and that’s your dad

He would also tell you stories of his adventures, it made for quite the long entertaining tales as he tucked you into bed, kissing your forehead before continuing his story which he altered to be a bit more child friendly and a bit more dramatic

He lets you have some of his clothes when he’s going away for a long time because he knows you’ll miss him

He lets you wear his jackets/coats, you freezing he’s already put his jacket/coat over you, even if they’re too big for you , he loves how adorable you look in it as he’s reminded that you’re still just a child and he doesn’t want you to grow up

He’d try to teach you how to paint, might succeed might not still he loves the bonding time he’s good at painting in any universe you can’t tell me otherwise

He hates seeing you hurt

If you get hurt on a raid he’d made sure whoever hurt you would suffer, you want him kiss the injury better, he’d do so in a heartbeat even if it meant his reputation would falter slightly

He starts dating someone else (Emma) he’d make sure that person treated you right, if not he’d dump said person

If he founds out you like someone he wouldn’t be overprotective, he’d still be protective but he’d mostly be supportive. He’d tease you about it until it became annoying, he’d encourage you and give you advice (even if most of his advice failed)and if it failed he’d be there to comfort you through it all

You’d blame Emma for turning Killian into a dark one and you’d blame Emma for Killian’s death

When you rescued Killian from hell he promised you he’d never die again if not of old age and that he’d never take of his good luck ring ever again as you thought he jinxed it by giving it to Emma

You were glad for his sake when he married Emma just because you saw your father happy with someone else again and not just grieving and seeking revenge for his ex lover

He hugs surprisingly great, he’s like your human sized pirate teddy bear

He misses the times when you would come into his room late at night after a nightmare and crawl under the covers and cuddle close to him, not because you had a nightmare but because he liked that you knew you would always be safe with him

He would hate that you’d have nightmares after his death and you no matter what age you are in would sometimes go into his room to make sure he was still alive and maybe even sleep beside him, he’d wake up to you sprawled out over the whole bed clutching his side tightly as if you were afraid he’d disappear

Will make sure you get your happy ending

He’s just father material it’s as simple as that (just look at Nook, love Nook though but original Hook is the best)

[linderosse]

Cannot wait to see your new design for Echourora. I keep refreshing hoping to see you drop the design and comic.

On a proper question, what do you do with the Priestess/Shrine Maidens/Sage descendants from LttP for Wisdomverse? What's their relationship to the actual Sages of ALBW?

Hahaha I can’t wait to share it! I keep thinking of more things to draw around this little Echo|Aurora concept of mine. I’ve been working on a bunch of them in parallel so I can release them as I finish :).

I’m actually nearly done with the first bit! So many ideas, so little time to draw. I’ve been traveling a lot this week and last week, and it’s hard to draw in a moving car :)

But I can still type in a moving car, so hey, here’s an answer to your question!

I personally am merging all the characters from ALBW into their ALttP counterparts, and that includes the sages. Essentially, you can imagine that the sages from ALBW were the ones trapped in the jewels in ALttP— except one of them was replaced by Fable, because Fable is one of the sages in ALttP, but not in ALBW.

Dot in FSA gets a set of color-coded maidens of her own, so Fable doesn’t need one as well. And using the ALBW sages for ALttP is also much more consistent with the sages from OoT. Here’s a nice graphic that someone made online (not mine; I downloaded this ages ago as a drawing reference).

So, in ALttP: the sages get kidnapped/sacrificed at the start, just like the maidens were. At the end, they all come together to break Ganon’s barrier, with Fable (Zelda) as their leader.

That leads to the question: which of the ALBW sages is replaced by Zelda for ALttP, and then gets to be a sage again in ALBW? My vote goes to Seres, the priestess in blue at the end of the line— though I’m still giving her a role to play in ALttP.

In fact, I’m gonna trace where all of them could have been in ALttP. There’s a lot of fun contradictions to merge :).

Osfala

He’s Sahasrahla’s disciple/grandson, just like in ALBW, and gets kidnapped with the rest of them. This has the added benefit of giving Sahasrahla a personal motive to want to help Link at the start of the game (though of course he’s already down to help). Let’s say you can rescue/recruit Osfala in the Dark Palace in ALttP, because it’s the first Dark World dungeon and it’s near where he and Sahasrahla live in the Light World.

Rosso

I don’t think he has a counterpart in ALttP? If he does, I’ve forgotten. Guess he just gets kidnapped and rescued like the others. He can have the Ice Palace, because although I do like Rosso, I hate the Ice Palace and have to give it to someone. It’s a nice ironic choice for a Fire-aligned guy like him (since Turtle Rock is off the table—it’s Fire-aligned, but it’s the last dungeon and therefore has to be where you rescue Fable)

Gulley

Gulley is the blacksmith’s son and one of the sages in ALBW, and the counterpart of the Ocarina Kid in ALttP. In this merged version, he gets rescued from the Skull Woods dungeon, but he’s too young to hold himself together properly in the Dark World, and gives his ocarina to Legend and then dies when they reach that stump in the forest like the ocarina kid does in ALttP canon. Let’s keep that trauma for Legend.

(Note that a lot of people die in ALttP. It’s fine, dw, they’re all canonically revived at the end of the game)

But then the gang is missing one sage! How will they break the barrier, which requires seven sages total? Fear not, they have a plan. We’ll get to that later though. For now…

Oren

Oren gets to be the adult daughter of the aging King River Zora in ALttP who gives Link the flippers. This has the added benefit of giving the King Zora a reason to help Link despite the fact that his people are constantly trying to kill you. Oren gets rescued from the Swamp Palace, just like in ALBW. Water theme go brrrr.

Impa

Impa is Impa. Rescued from Misery Mire, because why not. Nothing special here.

Maple/Irene

Ah, Maple. She’s the granddaughter of Granny Syrup, the potionmaker from ALttP. Maple was added only in the GBA remake of ALttP as a reference to her appearance in the Oracle games. Her kidnapping would give Syrup an added personal motive for helping Link out.

I’m giving Maple the Thieves’ Town dungeon in ALttP because Thieves’ Town is special. Folks who have played ALttP, or who are familiar with The Secrets We Keep, may remember the dungeon boss Blind the Bandit. Blind masquerades as the captive from this dungeon and follows you— until you lead him to a special room and the light turns him back to his monstrous form.

I love the thought of a fake Maple following Legend around, pleading that she’s real, and to trust her— but Legend sees through the lies. When Legend rescues the real Maple, her dry cynicism is a breath of fresh air, and a distinct reminder that she’s the real version. It gives Legend a connection to Maple that he gets to build on more in the Oracle games.

Legend will also proceed to be traumatized by Blind twice more in the future (including TSWK), but that’s a story for another day :).

Seres

Finally, Seres is the daughter of the Priest in ALBW. In ALttP, the Priest hides Zelda in his church for the first half of the game, and dies valiantly trying to protect Zelda when Agahnim comes for her again. In this merged version, Seres was there too, and can’t do anything to save her father. This has the added bonus of giving the Priest a personal motive to want to help Link in the first half of the game (his daughter is in danger), and giving Seres a personal motive to help set the world to rights again in the second half of the game (she wants her father back).

In this merged version, Seres takes Gulley’s place in the final scene where Fable and the gang blast through Ganon’s barrier, so they still have seven sages. There aren’t really any elemental roles in ALttP and ALBW like there are in OoT, but if you consider the elements to still exist, you can think of Fable as a wildcard sage who can fill Gulley’s role, like Lullaby/Requiem does in OoT as the “Seventh Sage.”

Tl;dr:

And there you go! The ALBW seven, if they were in ALttP.

Did I overthink this? Yes. Will I change details of this later? Maybe. Was this fun to contemplate anyways? Hell yeah!

Thanks for the amazing question. I love these; keep ‘em coming, folks!

Masterpost

[kenacoki]

Organized Prompt List

Funny

"Oh my god, i feel like shit." "Gee, I wonder why?

"I have the attention span of a goldfish on speed, and I'm okay with that."

"So, I have a surprise for you..." "Why'd that box just move?"

"If you're feeling down, I highly recommend binge-watching old episodes of 'Friends' and pretending everything's fine."

"It's all shits and giggles until someone giggles and shits." "What the fu-"

"I don't know which is worse: the taste of this coffee or your sense of humor."

"Please tell me you have a spare key..." "...That was the spare key."

"It's three in the morning." "Yeah, and...?"

"Well, that was a terrible idea..." "It was your idea!"

"We've nearly died enough today so please get down before you bust your head open."

"You were so high you had a staring contest with a photograph of my dead grandma."

"I can hear you sighing in disappointment ya' know...you're not exactly subtle."

"If you die, just know I'm bringing you back just so I can put you back in the ground myself!"

“Uhhh…how many of those have you ate?” “I don’t know, like five?”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard all day.” “It’s 9:05 am.”

“I’ve been thinking…” “Well don’t hurt yourself.”

“I need some advice.” “You came to me for advice?”

“Did you go to the doctor?” “No, I slept for nine hours.”

“I think I need therapy.” “I think you need a reality check.”

“Do you remember that time we—” “Don’t…finish that thought.”

Fluff

"Did-Did you just kiss me on the forehead?" "I'm so so sorry, I've been babysitting all week, when I heard you say 'ow', i just acted without thinking."

"Please stop looking at me like that." "Like what?" "All...ya know, soft n' stuff...it’s freaking me out."

“You know, I can tell when you’re mad cause your cheeks turn this cute shade of red.”

“Have I ever told you how cute you are when you pout?”

“Will you just…just hold me?”

“Just pretend to be my date!” “Excuse me?”

“You know how proud you make me, right?”

“Can I…can I hold your hand?”

“Tell me, have you ever seen something more beautiful than this?” “Yeah, you.”

“Hey, I’m always gonna be here for you.”

“Oh my god…you’re jealous!” “I am not!”

“Are you blushing?”

“I love you.” “I know.”

“Would you stay with me…please?”

“I really, really want to kiss you.” “Then do it.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“I mean, yeah I’d make out with them but like—platonically, you know?” “…You-you can’t make out with someone platonically.” “Sure you can! We’ve done it like…I don’t how many times now.”

“Mmm…you’re so warm.”

“So, uh…how’d your date go?”

“Have you ever thought about…us. Y’know, as an item?”

Angst/Hurt

“You told me that I didn’t have to worry about them.”

“Will you just listen to me for a second?” “What do you think you could say that could possibly make this better?!”

“How am I supposed to trust you after that?!”

“Just-just tell me how I can fix this.” “You can’t.”

“Did…did I mean anything to you?”

“I’m sorry—” “Don’t-don’t apologize if you’re just going to keep doing this shit. Apologize when you’re actually going to change.”

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

“You’re here.” “I’m here…just like I promised.”

“You didn’t call. You didn’t text. Nothing.”

“I…I never got the chance to tell you that I love you.” “Maybe that was for the best.”

“Every time I wake up, the first thing I do is look for you…but you’re never there.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” “It’s not your job to worry about me.”

“There’s a part of me that still loves you…and I absolutely hate myself for it.”

“You’re in denial—” “I am not in denial!”

“You can’t just keep ignoring your feeling like this.”

“So what, that’s it?” “Yeah…yeah I guess it is.”

“No! You can’t give up like this!”

“It’s…you’re too late.”

“Maybe we should just…stop.”

“I need you to wake up now…cause I can’t do this without you.”

Smut

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, ya know? Someone should teach you what to do with it.”

“You don’t have to do that.” “I want to.”

“C’mon, let’s get you into the bathtub.”

“Who do you want?” “You.”

“Why are you in my bed—wait! Are you naked?!”

“Can I at least take my shoes off before you jump me?” “…I guess.”

“I’ll kiss you if that’s what it takes to shut you up.”

“I swear to god, if I’m late because you can’t keep it in your pants.” “I can’t help it when you look so good.”

“Look at how needy you are, even after everything we’ve done.”

“We…we shouldn’t do this. It’s a bad idea…right?” “Yeah…yeah, definitely a bad idea.”

“I’m about two seconds away from bending you over this counter, don’t push your luck.”

“Bite me.” “I mean, if you’re offering.”

“I told you that I’d take care of you, did you think that I wouldn’t follow through on that?”

“Oh, fuck me.” “That’s the plan!”

“So good for me, just look at how much you came.”

“Oh my god!” “You’d better be quiet if you don’t want everyone to know how much of a slut you are.”

“It’s not my fault you keep turning me on!”

“Are you serious?” “Does it look like I’m joking?”

“This stays between us.”

“There’s people here!” “I know.”

//Dividers// sister-lucifer

[quillsandblades]

What could be the reasons for Hange's death?

I’m not best at doing these analysis posts, but I’ve had this in my mind for a while now and it needs to get out.

As a sort-of writer, I know there’s always reasons to kill off a character, especially if they're well-developed and play a crucial part in the story. So what could’ve gone through Isayama’s mind when he decided to kill our precious Hange? Here’s what I think.

First of all, reading the manga I really felt like her death was forced, staged. It didn't seem right, didn't seem to fit. Now I don’t know if the rest of you felt this way but I sure did. And that's why I'm gonna talk about why I think Isayama killed her.

There are four points in this post and each explains a potential reason:

1. To make the readers cry

Many characters are killed just to give a truck load of emotional damage to the readers. And sometimes authors enjoy it — don’t get me wrong, we love the characters, it’s just what even is a good story if devastated readers aren’t sending you death threats for killing their fav fictional pookie? Such characters often possess some or all of these qualities: Lovable, witty, humorous, determined, has big goals/dreams, you get attached to them easily and if they have a love interest that you’re invested in, and they both got plans to *ahem* live peacefully once a certain war is out of the list of duties, it’s over for you (IFKK 😭).

And who do we know that holds nearly all these characteristics, and died?

Maybe Yams was in killer mood the day he wrote chapter 132. I wonder if he’s doing the evil laugh somewhere, thinking how we’re suffering every day.

2. It’s crucial to the plot

These kinds of deaths aren’t in the author’s hand, and they really hurt us sometimes. I have a few characters very close to my heart and I hope I never have to put them to death cuz I may not have the willpower to write ahead if I do. It happens when you get dead-ends (yes you can get dead-ends even in fiction as well, at least that’s what I think because the setting or world you create has to have some limits), when the rules you have set up to make that world start to cage you in. And sometimes there’s no option but to kill them. Their death is important, it’s a key point, or maybe it’s part of what their personality demands. It’s needed, and it hurts.

But coming to Hange, I can safely say that’s not the case. Her death could’ve been avoided. In the manga she barely managed to get much time. Yes the plane made it, but it’s Hange we’re talking about and she has a big brain. She could’ve made a less harmful plan to stop the Colossal titans right there, I don’t doubt her intelligence at all. Or someone could’ve helped. The part about titan shifters saving their strength was a flimsy excuse Isayama, cuz taking out a Colossal isn't such a back-breaking task for the Shifters - they’ve had worse and done better.

3. Some other character needs to take the spotlight

This happens when our character is in the way of someone else’s glory. They need to be taken off the stage so the next one comes up.

For Hange I’d say, that was Armin. I think Isayama might have wanted to give the stuttering blonde kid a glow-up, and I gotta say it worked well. I’ve seen countless posts where Armin back then and as commander is compared and people are like, ha! Y’all used to laugh at him cuz he was a timid, scared little thing but look at him now, Commander of the scouts and such.

I’ve seen him get a lot of hate for not being strong enough, not being confident and such things. So what does Isayama do? He takes that character and upgrades him to Commander. I think he’s wanted to do this for a long time, to show just how much potential the kid has, and take it as a character development. He was chosen over Erwin and then Hange. He couldn’t be Commander after Shiganshina cuz Hange was named successor. He got his chance in ch 132 and took it. The only way to make Armin Commander was to kill Hange and so we had to part with the crazy genius we loved. (I don't hate Armin though, it's Isayama's fault not Armin's)

But here’s the thing, she could’ve still come back. Battered and bruised, and Armin would still be Commander as the title was already handed over. Then why go all the way and kill her? Here’s why.

4. External reasons

This and the 3rd point, In my opinion, are the main reasons for Hange’s death.

The external factors here include her relationship with Levi. The man has a HUGE fanbase and he’s shipped (and shippable) with so many characters it’s concerning. And the most popular ships are Ereri (this one doesn’t even make sense) and Eruri. As a character that’s so popular among fans, I don’t think Isayama wanted to confirm anything related to his love life as that would only create rifts among fans or even drop his popularity. By keeping it vague he kept the fanbase up. But what has Hange living got to do with it?

Well, we all heard her ‘Let’s live here together’ confession. It’s probably the most romantic thing anybody said to Levi canonically and no one can deny it gives hints. Then comes Levi's double meaning statement of ‘Unrequited titan love’ and I’d say that pretty much sealed the deal. ‘Devote your heart’ was the cherry on top and now if Hange returned they both would be so canon.

But for the sake of argument, let’s say all of that meant nothing romantic. But if Hange’s still alive we all know she’d never leave Levi alone in his impaired state after the war. She’d be the one pushing his wheelchair around and since they’re already veterans and very close friends, Levi would only tolerate having her around him at all times. So if someone’s gonna say that all of those ‘confessions’ meant nothing, then these facts are proof enough that after the war Levihan had all the chance of being canon. So if Hange had lived these two would have been a sealed deal - but that isn’t possible in reality due to Levi’s popularity.

So, Hange dies and Isayama avoids a ton of mess for himself.

All of this is entirely my take on breaking down my fav character’s death, not saying it’s 100% legit. Just a harmless analysis.

[ponyosmom35]

family

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability chapter thirty

synopsis: simon is meeting readers family for the first time. he's been keeping a secret from her, worried about how she might react.

warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of PTSD

Liability series:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

He hasn’t done a good job of keeping his nerves under control. He wipes his sweaty palms on his pants for the third time as his mind goes over everything that could possibly go wrong. The idea of meeting her family terrifies him. What if they don’t like him? What if he doesn’t like them? He knew a lot about her childhood and how she always felt that Emma was prioritized, he’d seen first hand how it affected her to this day. Of course he’d been told how close the family had become after the tragic passing of the eldest daughter. He was happy they were able to resolve their differences and come together. 

Above all he was well aware that a massive secret he’d kept from her was about to come out. His stomach rolled at the thought, he felt as though he could throw up. The truth was that tonights dinner would not be the first time he’d met her parents. After Emma died, Simon and Price flew to the states and presented her family with an American flag, and sat down with them to explain what happened. This was something he’d done in the past, however it being her older sister made the task nearly unbearable. But he knew it was his responsibility. He was terrified that her parents were going to hate him due to his face being there to tell them their daughter was dead. The worst day of their lives, and he was the face of the person who ruined their family. Simon had no idea how she would react. Would she be upset at him for keeping this from her? Would it bring up the past and trigger her PTSD? 

He’d tried to cancel, but he could only use so many excuses. He knew that this needed to happen. He couldn't avoid her family for the rest of their lives, especially when he planned to spend the rest of his life with her. 

She notices his unease after she looks over at him to sing along to one of their favorite songs. She frowns as she could see the anxiety coming from him. She reaches to his hand which was placed on the gear shift and rubs his skin gently. 

He instantly relaxes when he feels her touch. Her warmth, her tenderness, is just what he needed to calm down and remember that things will be fine. As he focuses on her and their journey he feels a sense of relief wash over him. 

“They’re gonna love you” she promises 

He sighs, this time feeling much better about things. He turns his head and looks at her with a smile. “You really think so?”

“I know so”

“What if I say the wrong thing?” 

“You won’t”

“If they ask about work?”

“They know how we met, they aren’t aware of the details obviously but they know that you worked with me on base, and they know that the rest is classified. Why are you so worried about this? Simon they already love you” 

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been talking about you nonstop for the past year, they are well aware how much I love you” she explains. 

He leans in close to her as he stops at a red light. He presses his lips to her forehead and closes his eyes. “Thank you baby”

“It’s just this house on the right” she points out, he pulls into the driveway and turns of the ignition, staring at her. 

“I have something to tell you” he admits 

“What?”

“This isn’t the first time-”

“There she is!” her mother calls out from the porch, she runs over to the passenger side door and opens it, welcoming her daughter in a hug. 

Simon gets out of the truck and walks to where they were standing. He bows his head slightly as her father embraces her. She turns to introduce him to her parents when she notices their wide eyes staring at him. Her mother begins to tear up and she frowns. 

“Mom? whats wrong?” she asks in concern 

“Simon, I’m so happy to see you again” she says placing a gentle hand on his face, he smiles and she hugs him. Her mouth falls open in shock and she tries to comprehend what she was seeing. 

“Been too long son, how are you?” her dad says, grabbing his hand and shaking it. 

“Been well mate”

“I’m sorry, does anyone wanna tell me how you know each other?” she asks 

“He didn’ tell you?” her mom asks as she pulls away from him

“Tell me what?” she asks, turning to him.

“Price and I brought the flag home to your parents after Emma” he admits 

“What?” she asks 

“Honey he’s been sending flowers every month for the grave” her mom adds 

“You have?” she asks looking up at him with tears filling her eyes as her lips begin to tremble. Simon internally panics and places a hand on her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you”

“Why did you do that?”

“For Emma” he answers

She is unable to hold back her tears and he gently wipes them, holding her jaw in his hands. “I’m sorry love”

“Thank you for taking care of her” she answers 

“Always” 

She looks over to her mother who’s wiping her tears as well. Simon wraps his arm around her and kisses her forehead. 

“Now that I’ve made everyone cry, should we get inside?” he asks. The three broken hearted family members laugh and lead him inside the house. 

“Simon I made fish and chips, fresh halibut from our trip this morning” her dad states, wrapping his arm around Simon’s shoulder.

“Sounds delicious mate”

“Well we wanted to treat you, y/n mentioned that it was your favorite meal” 

“Thank you guys”

“Its the least we could do, thank you for taking such good care of our daughters. We’re so lucky to have you in the family” her mom says as she leads them into the kitchen. 

Simon pauses at the words, he smiles and swallows the lump in his throat. Family. A word he’d tried to hard to run from. A word that used to tear him to pieces. He swore to himself he’d never allow people to get close to him in order to prevent a similar fate to his family. He tried to fight it. But after a while he realized that the only thing he was protecting himself from was love. He’d been so miserable before she came into his life, he was a walking corpse. Living for the job and the violence. 

Now Simon Ghost Riley was sat at the dinner table with the woman he loved and her parents. This was his family. He would never let anything happen to them.

Tag list:@vivi123abc

[jazzy-art-time]

Thanks

CW: cooties

It’s that Turkey thanks day here where I’m at. So I figured I would be that cringe fucker who gets overly insightful on today for a change.

But I figured I would sit down and tap for a second for anyone who would glance over at me today.

This past year has been, a lot for me. Good n bad and stuff but.

I wanted to say thank you to my friends. My dear friends.

I don’t think I would be the man I am right now without you and your support.

Like literally, prolly wouldn’t have been Raymond without you. You helped me test out everything and become comfortable with becoming Raymond. I can never be thankful enough for that, I’m closer to who I am and want to be even. I cannot express my thanks enough for that.

You guys support my artwork and my characters so much. You guys let me yap for so long and you let me send so many paragraphs for hours about my shitty ass stories and OCs. You’ve listened to so much Jolene Bennet and Pinky BrainRot you deserve awards. It seems silly but it means a lot to me that you guys are willing to listen to me insanity. I’m not that interesting of a person, so my characters are all I’ve got going on, it just means a lot that you are willing to listen.

You have also had to bear witness to the Birth of Jarble as well as its continued development. Which is very special to me due to why I made Jarble to begin with. It means the world that I can feel comfortable sharing it, developing it, getting tips and bouncing ideas back and forth. Jarble went from a shitty AU I made to escape from everything into something I hold dear to me. It’s special now, it might have died out and fizzled. So thank you for helping me create something special. Also the fact that I’m willing to share my writings with you guys show how much I trust y’all, my writing sucks and you are the few who get to witness it. I will say however, fuck you for the sheer amount of Jeden emojis, he haunts me and you do this to me I’ll get you /silly

As well as you guys aren’t afraid to call me out on my shit. If I’m doing something wrong, if I’m being out of line or overreacting… you call me out. You come to me and talk and help me get better as a person.

You were in the trenches with me when I became a Aggressive, Distrustful person who snapped and was going crazy because I was being stalked. Helped me gain the courage to speak out when I got doxxed by Travis. Stuck with me when I had to change antipsychotic medications and I went absolutely batshit and had to go to the hospital. When I was stuck in bed for nearly two weeks because I was practically almost dying. You guys… for whatever reason. Stuck with me.

You didn’t have to stick around, I never would’ve judged you if you did. But you stuck around, you came to me and laid it all out on the table. You told me when I was being unreasonable or that I was hurting you with my actions. You helped me when you didn’t… really have to.

And you continue to help me, I’m a better person now and I know that. I don’t think I would’ve gotten as better as I am without you.

You support me, you help me when I’m lost or confused, you talk to me… you share Garfield things with me or if I’m upset you send a picture of your dogs or just.. you do so much for me.

I am forever thankful for everything. I’m not good at expressing emotions, I never have been. So perhaps it’s all just nonsense what I’m saying or maybe I’m repeating myself, I don’t know.

But thank you.

For everything.

I love you guys and I wish I could be better at explaining it… that way I’m not dropping a mile long scientific paragraph on you every few months

And a thank you for my Followers as well.

Which sounds like, cocky or something to say. I don’t know, feels weird standing here going “AND TO MY FOLLOWERS” but it’s hm.

ANYWAYS.

Thank you lot for sticking around!

Within the past year and a half I’ve… been different! I cut off all social stuff for the longest time and then went radio silent a lot posting wise. Almost all my blogs kinda went nonexistent. I deleted a lot.

And then I randomly went “hey guys look at this story I’m working on called Jarble. I will tell you absolutely nothing about it.”

But y’all still? Stuck around.

Which I know I’m just like, another guy on the dash posting stuff. So perhaps it isn’t that deep as I’m making it sound? I don’t know.

BUT REGARDLESS. You guys stuck around!

You guys watched as I went insane over a AU that I never said anything about. Which might’ve been annoying when you guys asked and I just never answered because I got self conscious lmaO. Yet you guys still showed interest and shared support!

When I decided to update my blogs again, welcomed me back and showed support when I expressed interest in doing stuff again.

Even welcomed me back when I decided to attempt to be social again and join discord servers! Which was… hard for me and a 1000% awkward! Cuz I went insane and then shuffled back like a fool. Yet! Here I am!

You guys keep supporting me, sending me asks and supporting me and my work despite it all

And I thank you for that! I appreciate it and it makes me feel special when you guys appear to show genuine interest in my dumb characters and stories…

I know I’m just another idiot on the feed, but it means a lot to me that you stick around and glance in my direction.

So all in all

Thank you guys.

To everyone.

End of cooties

Edit: also thanks to my fiancé I guess. Whatever. You’re sitting right across from me and I might throw a cracker at you. But you alright I guess. 🙄🙄 don’t choke on the Turkey BabyGirl

[calaisreno]

Bottles

Note: I have two stories today because I couldn't make up my mind.

This one is sad (alcoholism, Sad John, Not Dead Sherlock, reunion, reconciliation, rehab. No MCD). The next one (Imagine) is much happier.

887 words / Prompt: Empty

He’s forgotten where he lives. 

He hasn’t forgotten the little house in Clapham where his bed is, but as usual, his feet have taken him to Baker Street. That only happens when he’s been drinking. Well, it happens all the time these days. 

Pockets, pockets. He still has a key, but he can’t find it. 

“Lost it,” he says to himself. This seems true, and certainly describes his entire life these days. Since. After. 

Lost it. He’s lost it.

It’s cold, almost November. Maybe it is November. If he closes his eyes— he does— he remembers another November. Back. Before. 

Maybe he doesn’t have a bed now. He doesn’t have a job, so it’s quite possible that the house he remembers, the one with the bed and his clothes and a telly that doesn’t work, maybe that’s gone too. All his stuff, gone. 

Sherlock gone. 

He’ll cry if he thinks about that. 

He’s already is crying. 

The ground is suddenly closer than he thought. That’s because he’s sitting on the kerb outside 221B Baker Street. His face is wet and the ground is cold and he doesn’t have a place to sleep and all his stuff is gone. 

“Why did you die?” If he were sober, he’d just ask inside of his head, and the Sherlock that lives there would say something cryptic. 

You’re worried they’re right.

Heroes don’t exist.

Alone protects me.

It’s my note.

Mind Palace Sherlock. No, John has never had a Mind Palace. Nothing so grand. He doesn’t have a palace, not even one tiny bedsit now. 

If he went home, if he had a home, he could sit in his chair and close his eyes and pretend Sherlock didn’t die. 

He pulls the bottle out of his pocket. Nearly empty. He could drink it all in one swallow. 

No, he already has. 

The bottle clinks on the pavement. He tries to be careful when he puts them in the recycling bin, not let them clink against one another. That sound bothers him, shames him that there are so many. 

Ashamed, he sits on the kerb, his feet in the road. Maybe he should just lie down in the road. Nobody would be surprised if he died that way. Better than a bullet. Better than drinking himself to death. 

Rising to his feet, he sways. It’s a bad idea, standing up, but he wants to lie in the middle of the road and go to sleep. And never wake up. 

He grasps at the air, trying to regain his balance, and finds he’s leaning against a car. A black car. The door opens and someone gets out. 

Well, this will be embarrassing. For both of us.

Mycroft doesn’t pick up drunks. When necessary, he has people who do that for him. People who do his dirty work, clean up the vomit and wipe the blood off the upholstery. 

No, they’re not getting into the car. The dirty work bloke is carrying him towards the door.  And there’s Mycroft with the key, opening it. 

“I’ve got you, John,” the dirty work bloke says. “You’re okay. You’re fine.”

He smells so familiar. That coat. “Sherlock,” he whispers. “Don’t be dead.”

He’s floating up. Up, up. It feels nice. The way home used to feel.

So gently, he’s laid down in a bed. A hand strokes his hair. “John.”

He’s crying. “Stop being dead.”

“Hush, John. I’m not dead. Remember? I came back.”

“But… but.” He’s not in the street. Clue: no cars. Soft. Warm. Ah, bed. 

Someone is putting a pillow behind his head. It’s nice. 

“John, sit up and have some water.”

“I got married,” he announces. “Did I get married?”

“You did.” 

It’s the voice he remembers, the one that gives him shivers. “Am I dead?”

“No, you’re not.” A hand on his hair. “Hush, you’re safe. Rest now.”

In the other room, they’re talking softly to one another. 

“How many times, Sherlock? He needs medical care. Rehab.”

“No, Mycroft. No hospitals. I’ll take care of him. Molly’s got Rosie for now, and Harry’s coming tomorrow.”

“Don’t be selfish, Sherlock. Are you sure this is what he’d want?”

Their voices are quieter now, further away. 

“I have to fix this. I want to.”

“Well, then. I’ll leave you to it. Call me.”

In the silence, he drifts. He and Sherlock were in a pub, he thinks. 

No, they were playing a game. I’m you, aren’t I?

He’s chasing a hound through the mist…

Sherlock is standing on the roof...

A gunshot, and he runs… don’t be dead…

Stay with me…

Goodbye, John…

He sobs. “Why are you still dead? I asked you to come back.”

He feels himself gathered into strong arms. “I heard you. I’m here.”

“Every time you say that, you leave me. Every time, you’re dead.”

He touches the face he loves. His fingers come away wet. Sherlock is crying. 

“Please, John. You have to stop this. Stay with me, please.”

I’m not the one who leaves, he thinks. I’m the one who’s alone.

“All right.” Sighing, he leans into the vision. They’re standing under a starry sky, and it’s beautiful. Sherlock is beautiful. 

“I love you,” he says, smiling up at him. “Always meant to say. I love you.”

Sherlock kisses him “I love you too. Stay with me.”

--

Please read the next one too! Imagine. A 1024-word fixit for Series 3-4.