#i WISH i could claim this idea i saw it in tags a while ago and didnt screencap then

[shrimpchipsss]

it’s like this

#i WISH i could claim this idea i saw it in tags a while ago and didnt screencap then #luo binghe #liu qingge #svsss #scum villain #does this count as #bingliu #luo binghe's big ghibli tears #'you gonna run home and cry to your mommy??' #im sorry that's so mean im so sorry

[llyfrenfys]

I'd like to preface this with that this is a screenshot of a post I saw a few days ago in the #welsh tag and that the OP has since deleted this post, but the sentiment is something I'd like to address since I see a lot of parallels with this kind of thinking in other contexts, such as in LGBTQIA+ rights conversations.

So, the most obvious elephant in the room is the idea that Welsh is super widely spoken in Wales now and that it isn't in as much danger as other Celtic languages. This idea is wishful thinking at best and erases the very real danger that Welsh is in and that it could be lost just as easily as Irish or Scottish Gaelic. Cornish (which is related to Welsh) actually did die out and has had to be revived. To make a metaphor out of this, we classify languages on a scale of non-threatened to endangered in a similar way to how we classify species.

Here are the statuses of Welsh and Irish as of 2010 (above) and the statuses of Lions and Tigers (below).

On paper tigers are more 'in danger' than lions. But that does not mean that lions are suddenly not in danger at all. The little bracket above CR, EN and VU labels all of these classifications as threatened. It isn't (and definitely shouldn't) be a competition of 'who is most in danger' because you do not want the thing you care about (whether it be a species or a language) to be in danger.

To come back to the original screenshot "they* [Welsh speakers] have always had the means and the ways because the English didn't beat or slaughter them for speaking it"- on the most basic of levels, this is just incorrect. The Welsh Not was a wooden token hung around schoolchildren's necks if they spoke Welsh in school. If someone else spoke Welsh the Not would be hung around their neck. At the end of the school day, whoever was wearing the Not would be beaten and caned by their teachers. I needn't go into much detail but there have been concerted efforts to beat Welsh out of schoolchildren. With the lions vs tigers metaphor, making the claim Welsh speakers have never been beaten for speaking Welsh because they always had the means and ways, while Irish speakers were beaten and never had the means or ways is like claiming poachers have never shot lions, only tigers. Bottom line is, lions and tigers are both victim to poaching and both species have suffered as a result. Similarly, Welsh and Irish have both suffered language loss and both need conservation efforts in order to survive.

(*sidenote- the consistent use of 'them' and 'they' in the original post is definitely indicative of a 'us vs them' sentiment which is a deeply unhelpful attitude to have when it comes to endangered languages and the Celtic languages in particular)

I see parallels with LGBTQIA+ rights in this situation. When equal marriage came in for gay and lesbian couples in the UK in 2014, many allies began to act like gay rights had now been achieved and that gay issues had been done, they're solved. Except, they really weren't (and aren't). Progress has been made in Wales and undeniably Welsh is doing the best out of the living Celtic languages. But that doesn't mean Welsh has been saved or that full equality for Welsh speakers has been achieved. It very much hasn't. The sentiment of the post in the screenshot is not conducive to helping Irish or Scottish Gaelic. Putting down Welsh speakers and erasing Welsh-language history will not save Irish or Scottish Gaelic. Pretending Welsh has had it easy in some kind of lap of luxury is a deeply harmful and bogus claim.

I'll address the tags under the cut as this post is getting long.

To address the tags, personal feelings ≠ an accurate reading of a situation. Nor is it praxis, for that matter. Why is pride in Welsh different/less good than pride in Irish? Is it the assumed proximity to England? If so, that's a terrible claim to make. Not only that, but Scotland is also next to England- does that make pride in Scottish Gaelic the same as pride in Welsh according to this metric? It's a ludicrous thing to say and deeply insensitive to the needs of Scottish Gaelic and Welsh speakers, who cannot help any current or former proximity to England.

Additionally, proximity to England ≠ worse. I know it's a popular internet joke to hate on England because of English attempts to eradicate the Celtic languages, but when the joke becomes praxis, it does not help. England ≠ a place devoid of Celtic languages either. Many English counties near the Welsh border actually have communities of Welsh speakers, such as Oswestry (Croesoswallt) in Shropshire. Cornwall is also home to many speakers of revived Cornish. It does a disservice to Celtic speakers in England to insinuate that proximity to England taints or corrupts them somehow. This is how ethnonationalism starts and we ain't about that.

And "#it feels a little.... blehhhhh you were seen as sophisticated and english enough and you assimilated however the Irish and the Scots? #brutish animals that need to be culled". So, this is arguably one of the worst things to say about a Celtic language- or any threatened language in general. First of all, the 'you were seen as' - 'you' is very telling. The switch from 'them', 'they' to 'you' indicates that this sentiment is aimed at Welsh speakers directly. This was likely a subconscious thing that OP wasn't thinking about when they wrote this. But it does indicate unhealthy feelings of jealousy and bitterness unfairly directed at Welsh speakers, who are also struggling. This righteous anger at the decline of Irish and Scottish Gaelic would be better directed at efforts to help promote those languages- some useful things to get involved with are LearnGaelic, similar to DysguCymraeg but for Scottish Gaelic or supporting channels such as Irish channel TG4 by watching their programmes.

The idea that Welsh speakers were or are 'sophisticated and english enough' is insulting and carries with it a lot of baggage of how any of these assumptions came about. Welsh speakers were definitely not seen as sophisticated. Where Welsh was 'tolerated', it was treated as a curiosity, a relic of a bygone age. Classic museification which all Celtic languages and cultures suffer from as well. Welsh was not tolerated in any legal sense since 1535- with English becoming the only valid administrative language and the language of Welsh courts after England annexed Wales into its Kingdom. Monolingual Welsh speakers suddenly had no access to any legal representation, unless they learned English. This is no voluntary assimilation- it is an act of survival for many speakers of minoritised languages to 'assimilate' into the dominant culture, or else risk losing access to legal security and other kinds of infrastructure. You need only ask any non-native English speaker living in an Anglophone country what that process is like. Welsh people did not see English incursion as an opportunity to become 'sophisticated and english enough', they had to assimilate in order to survive.

The "Irish and the Scots? #brutish animals that need to be culled" is also painfully misrepresenting a very complex social and political process that unfolded over the span of hundreds of years. The phrasing itself of 'brutish animals that need to be culled' speaks to righteous anger at the damage done to these languages and cultures, but it reinforces negative stereotypes about the Irish and Scots themselves. It also is more complicated than a simple English hatred of anything non-Anglo, since the English conception of particularly the Irish changed a lot over the centuries. It was (and still is) rarely consistent with itself. See: the enemy is both strong and weak. The very earliest Celticists were by and large, Anglos or French.

Ernest Renan (1823-1892) for example, was an early French Celticist who published La Poésie des races celtiques (Poetry of the Celtic Races- English translation) in which he says:

"... we must search for the explanation of the chief features of the Celtic character. It has all the failings, and all the good qualities, of the solitary man; at once proud and timid, strong in feeling and feeble in action, at home free and unreserved, to the outside world awkward and embarrassed. It distrusts the foreigner, because it sees in him a being more refined than itself, who abuses its simplicity. Indifferent to the admiration of others, it asks only one thing, that it should be left to itself. It is before all else a domestic race, fitted for family life and fireside joys. In no other race has the bond of blood been stronger, or has it created more duties, or attached man to his fellow with so much breadth and depth"

Yeah. This guy (unsurprisingly) was a white supremacist. Note that this sentiment is being applied to all people considered Celtic by Renan- Irish, Welsh, Breton, Scottish, Cornish, Manx etc. None unscathed by the celtophobia of the day. In this period, Celticity was romanticised (yet disparaged at the same time). It is less 'brutish animals' and more 'archaic, time-frozen peoples' in this period. Of course, 'brutish animals' attitudes towards Celticity did still exist, but it is disingenuous to act as if it was this attitude alone which drove English celtophobia. Like many things, it is always more complicated and never clear cut as it might seem.

I'll bring this to a close shortly, but returning to OP's suggestion that the Welsh assimilated and the Scots and Irish did not, is also incorrect in that some Scots did have to assimilate to survive as well. The Statutes of Iona (1609) required Scottish Gaelic speaking Highland chiefs to send their sons away to be educated in Scots and/or English in Protestant schools. Many did as the statutes required, which led to further language loss in the Highlands of Scottish Gaelic. These are acts of survival- and not ones always taken willingly.

This has been a long post but it's one which I felt I wanted to address. There's no need for infighting between speakers of Celtic languages over who has it worse. There isn't any answer to that question, nor is it a good use of time or energy. All in all, the Celtic languages have suffered greatly over the years and its only just now that some of them are turning a corner. If you care about these languages, put your energy into something good. Only through active work will these languages be saved for generations to come.

#long post #lukes originals #cymraeg #gaelige #gaidhlig #Irish #Welsh #Scottish Gaelic #politik #not dictionary related #Celticist #Celtic Studies #This took a lot of energy to write so if you found this post useful please consider reblogging

[viviwritesss]

The Songcord

Neteyam × female! Omaticaya! Reader

Some believe waiting is the strongest act of love one could ever do, for time is ever so ungrateful and cruel that it never hesitates to tear longing lovers apart. But when the pain of loss is too much to bear, perhaps one last glimpse at him could mend your broken heart.

Word count: 2.5k

Tags: angst, mentions of blood, mentions of death, soft Neteyam that dislikes killing and all that stuff.

A/n: Hello again! First of all, I'd like to thank you all for supporting the last post I made! I received a couple of requests, and I'll try to get to them as soon as possible! If any of you wish to make a request, I'd be glad to receive it! Anyway, remember reader's name is Zoraya, and also I would recommend you to listen to 'The songcord' by Zoe Saldana while reading this, it's a beautiful song :)

It had been a while since you last saw Neteyam. 

Perhaps such a turn of events was for the best. Not knowing about him, not speaking to him, not touching him, not seeing him, made the whole situation more bearable, if only a little. Yet your mind couldn't help but wander everywhere but on the tasks you had to get done. Wander back to when you would look at him and smile without this pain in your woeful chest, when the two of you would laugh over his pitiful attempt at braiding your hair, when he would carry you around on his back because he knew how much you enjoyed it, back when your heart didn't seem to burn whenever you laid eyes on him.

He used to swear you two would stay together forever. Back in your childhood days, on the most distant memories your tired brain can still fathom, Neteyam often mentioned how he wished to be your loyal knight, like those his father used to tell him about in fairytales. Only the best of knights is suited for a princess such as Zora, he would repeat, before taking your hand and running off towards the forest. And as little time went on, Neteyam pronounced, now with a smidge more of common sense, that, rather, he wished for you to be his bride. For you to be his.

Perhaps neither of you understood the weight of such claims all those years ago, however, you would always answer with an enthusiastic nod, and a big smile on your face.

Since those days you knew you were betrothed to Neteyam. At least you felt like you were, even after he grew up and, little by little, stopped bringing up the idea. 

In time, his eyes darkened, tainted and forever stained with burden, with responsibility and a duty that, one day, would abruptly befall onto his shoulders. And his hands –before soft and tender– dripped blood since youth, blood of his enemies, carrying on his palm yet another burden; the burden of murder. Of spilling the blood of those weaker than him, unable to stand against a trained warrior such as himself. 

You still remember the first time he killed. A memory ever so vivid that you still carry it within your skin. You awaited his return, expectant, scared, for he always expressed with adamant regret how he wished not to rip out someone's soul out of their body, a brutal, cruel act that, according to him and his soft heart, he never wished to commit unless necessary. Yet he was commanded to do so. And so he did. For he was expected to do it, because he is Neteyam Sully, the firstborn.

That day, he returned to you first –before even reporting to his father– in the middle of the night, crestfallen, regretful, woeful and empty, oh so empty he could only look at you with those dark eyes of lacking color. Covered in blood that wasn't even his. 

No words were exchanged that night. He wasn't even able to muster the strength of cleaning himself up, which is why you did, and with a wet, warm cloth, you wished to cleanse both the stain of blood on his skin, and the stain of pain in his heart.

He was always so gentle, so kind hearted and benign, that it hurt your soul to see him so utterly shattered. So delved in his misery, in a weight so heavy upon his back that made him crack.

That cold night, Neteyam held you closer than he ever had, as if you would get snatched from him for eternity. He placed his trembling, bloodstained hands on your waist, clinging to your warmth with such desperation that had you cradling his head on your chest, the sound of your heartbeat being the sole anchor that refrained him from falling apart.

And such encounters continued for a long time, for Neteyam was strong at fights, yet weak at heart. A cursed man, so young yet so haunted. Burdened since birth, condemned since the day he opened his very eyes, all for being a Sully; for being the firstborn.

Thoughts about him swallowed you whole, flooded your brain and drove you mad, mad from love? Who knows. You were losing your mind, that's for sure. Maybe you wouldn't mind such a thing, if at least you had him by your side, if at least you knew he was still alive and well, and if at least you knew how his thoughts had been treating him as of late.

Little more could you do than to cling merely onto a hazy remembrance of him, promising the world to you once he returned.

Once he returned…

Then again… how long has it been…?

The Sully family had been away for more moons than you can count, perhaps even years, and with each passing day, the unbearable pain of getting left behind by your loved one left you dwindling. So much so that the image of Neteyam in your head started fading in time. The thought of forgetting his face terrified you, for it was tied to the idea of permanently losing him; of losing the hope of living the happy life he told you about before he left, a long time ago. It petrified you so much that you found it in yourself to try and draw him, draw what hazy details you remembered of him and of his kind features, to try and at the very least commit him into paper. Perhaps that way… you wouldn't forget. You attempted such portraits many times, yet upon glancing at the finished piece, you just knew something was missing, something was wrong, that is not Neteyam.

And then one day you finally realized. You forgot how he looked. Not only that, but the sound of his voice vanished from your memories. Finally, the only thing left of him you had was the songcord, which he promised would be the beginning of your story together just before leaving you behind.

Time never stopped, and as such, neither did your longing. Everyone knew this yet you were already of age, older, actually, for you were not betrothed out of respect to your decision and Neteyam's of waiting for his return to become his mate.

To your dismay, such an event never transpired, so you were soon to be betrothed to a good male of the tribe. A kind na'vi who knew beforehand that your heart already belonged elsewhere, in the hands of another man, despite the time that passed.

Yes. You hadn't seen Neteyam in a while. In years. Which perhaps made your betrothal more bearable. Yet, even then, you couldn't stop thinking about him. You started to believe you never could.

And one day, the sound of a foreign Ikran was heard. 

"Zoraya!" A young girl approached you frantically and out of breath, tugging desperately at your hand with an unreadable expression on her face. "In the village, the Sullys, they…!" Your eyes widened. "They have returned!"

You left out an exasperated breath, feeling your heart quickly grow mad upon the news. Your chest started feeling terribly tight, as if concealed within iron claws, so much so that it felt as if you couldn't breathe properly.

Neteyam… he… he is back…!

You dropped the basket full of fruit you held without hesitation, to proceed to run desperately towards the village with little concern of your surroundings and without care of the cut and scratches you acquired while sprinting hectically through the forest.

Neteyam… Neteyam came back to me…!

Just the thought had you increasing your speed, ignoring the fleeting pain of wounds, disregarding whatever it was that got in your path.

I want to see him…!

Upon your arrival, you quickly made your way through the crowd, squeezing between the people surrounding the family that just arrived, and letting out quick apologies to try and reach them. Reach him.

Neteyam… finally, I can tell you one more time…

You locked eyes with Neytiri.

How much I love you…!

She looked at you with misery.

Your smile quickly vanished.

The whole family was silent, staring at you with narrow eyes, gazes so pitiful that had you taking a step back, embracing yourself in nervousness.

You couldn't see Neteyam.

"Where is Neteyam?" Your voice wavered, dwindling under sad gazes and the cruel realization that he was not there.

Jake appeared crestfallen, unable to look at you in the eye once more; unable to bear your helpless expression which still tried to seek out his son.

A son that was no more.

Neytiri was the one to look at you, strong face yet weak heart –just like her son– as she locked eyes with you. She choked on her words, obvious rage and sorrow coming out of her expression.

She could only shake her head at you in regret.

Your heart shattered.

A pain like none you've ever felt in your chest got you falling expressionless to the ground, water pooling in your eyes as you grabbed your heart in misery, clinging to the songcord he gave you as you felt your heart get ripped out of your chest.

You couldn't remember more from that day. Memories faded, yet pain lived vivid within you.

You felt empty, even if he left a long time ago and you knew nothing about him, it felt as though a part of you was violently ripped out of you along with his departure.

You often wandered off alone to the spirit tree. It made you feel close to him, even though death cruelly interfered. He finally went to a place you couldn't reach, a realm so far that your feet could never touch, not as long as your lungs drew air. He left, and this time, you couldn't follow.

The tree of voices felt quiet. Awfully quiet and dreadful, as if sensing your loss and the pain dwelling in your chest. 

You sat down, taking deep breaths, trying to remain calm. You couldn't stop thinking about him; your mind, stained with love, would not let you rest, would not let you go a moment without wishing to see him one last time, to finally mutter what remained untold, to tell him how much love you harbored for him ever since you were kids.

You closed your eyes, feeling the wind envelop you in its cold embrace, a surge of emotions flowing through your body and a sense of vertigo coursing through your flesh.

And then you opened your eyes.

And he was in front of you.

You were no longer under the spirit tree, rather, it seemed you were between his arms, a wet, warm cloth in your hand, while he gently placed his hand on your waist.

You still remembered that night, the night he seeked you out, covered in blood. The night he murdered for the first time.

You left out a choked sigh, looking down at him, being met with his head, gently placed on your chest.

The both of you shared a burning warmth, sitting on the floor, with you sitting on top of him, seeking the contact of skin so fervently it hurt.

Your sight wavered upon meeting his form, a striking sadness making your eyes wet with tears. You could feel him, finally, after all this time, the longing within your chest felt less heavy, yet the sense of not being able to see him again lurked deep in your head.

He held you close, strong arms surrounding you with ease, as his big palms caressed your waist with care.

"Neteyam…" you cried out in a whisper, your voice heavy with pain, which had him looking up at you, at your hurt expression.

And then you saw him, his face, and it was as if your memory never forgot about him in the slightest. You placed both hands on his cheeks, smiling weakly through your tears at him and his concerned features.

He was still as handsome as you remembered.

And he was there. He was with you, and you could feel his warmth, feel his skin against yours and, this time, it was not a distant dream.

"Why are you crying…?" He spoke so softly, so tenderly and loving and it made you shatter, realizing how deeply you missed his voice. He removed his hands from your waist, placing them below your eyes to wipe your tears with his thumb, as he worriedly scanned your face for answers.

"I'm just happy to see you." You said, unable to stop the relentless tears from falling off your face, as with your palms you held his cheeks, trying to get this last moment with him ingrained in your brain.

You would never allow yourself to forget. Not again.

"I'm happy to see you too." He said, weakly smiling at you as his forehead connected with yours.

You embraced him like you never had before, knowing this would be the last time you were ever permitted to do so, placing your head in the crook of his neck as he protectively hugged you with the same intensity. 

"Neteyam?" Your voice was worn out, tired, as with your hands you clung to his back, wishing to stay inside this memory for as long as possible. He merely hummed questioningly at the call of his name, and you sighed with delight upon realizing that, finally, you could say what you wished to confess ever since he departed. "I think I'm in love with you." You faced him, a sad smile on your face. "I'm terrible, am I not?" You laughed, further attempts to wipe your tears remaining fruitless. 

He looked at you tenderly, his dark eyes regaining the color they lacked, shining under your gaze.

"Hardly," He mumbled, kissing your eyes, soft lips upon your eyelids. It all felt so terribly real it made your heart stirr. "I feel the same." He all but whispered those words, and you felt your world regain a little color. "You just said it before I could." You furrowed your brows in sorrow. He loved you as well, yet a timeless force separated you both in such a cruel way, that fate would never let you stay by his side. 

You sobbed at the thought, and, once more, Neteyam grabbed your cheeks between his palms in an attempt to understand the cause of your sorrow.

"Why do you cry still, my love? I'm right here. Right by your side." He exclaimed with sageness, as water flowed down your cheeks, staining his hands with your tears. You could never achieve a shared future with the man you love, he would slide from between your fingers ever so gently, and you would get left behind once more. "I'll never leave your side, yeah? I'll stay for as long as you wish. So please, don't shed tears for me."

You could only nod, clinging to him in desperation, as you felt him vanish from between your grasp. You tried to maniacally hang onto his memory, but before you knew it, he was gone. He was not by your side anymore.

You were left alone with your thoughts again.

A pained chuckle escaped your lips.

He lied.

#avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam angst

[tinalbion]

Hello, could you write something about slashers with a male S/O who is blind and who is not aware that in his eyes it is possible to see the universe? Calm down, I'll explain! The blindness of the reader may have taken away his vision, but it also brought stars to his eyes, ahm, it's kind of confusing, I know! Here, look, it's like the illustration of this owl, see? Its name is Zeus, it is blind and inside it eyes you can see a galaxy!

Continued: "This is embarrassing, but, uh, I forgot to ask for the slasher in my question, so I'll ask this one if it's okay? Haha... Harry Warden, please!"

Oh my dear, I finally got an ask for Harry! I love him so much and I hope this finds you well, just know I didn't forget about you or this amazing idea. It's a very beautiful concept that I really enjoy, so I hope I do this ask justice. He's one of my absolute favorite boys and I want to write for him more!

"Between The Stars" ||

Harry Warden x AMAB!Reader

Rating: None; mentions of cannibalism, general fluff between the reader and Harry, pining

Length: 2.1k

Harry Warden had wanted to leave Valentine Bluffs for so long after the incident, it ate away at him the longer he remained hidden away, but even he was weak and couldn't find it in himself to finally uproot and leave. 

The town had dwindled since the killings began to happen again, he remained far from the mines and had found a liveable set up in an abandoned water tower not that far away from the Bluffs. He remained there for most of the year, but when Valentine's rolled around, he couldn't help but grow emotional over the events that happened so long ago. It pained him that whenever he would see the town going against his wishes, they would learn nothing no matter what he did, so he turned his back on them and remained hidden from view. 

From his hideaway, he saw so many walks of life come in and out of the mining town, most people just visiting family, others that moved away years ago only to come back because of nostalgia. He watched from afar and wondered what life would be like I'd his mind wasn't destroyed by the events he suffered so long ago. Maybe one day he would feel complete again, but it would be almost impossible, he thought, that it would never happen for him and he’d just have to live with that.

As he dreamt of better times, he was unaware of a new visitor that graced the town's grounds, an unexpected fresh face that he never would have paid much mind to.

You were talked into visiting your family despite travel being hard for you considering you were blind, but you thankfully got your friend Gracie to tag along and help you out, she agreed to be your guide and took this as a sign for a well-needed vacation for you both.

She guided you along and described the sights to you the best she could, pointing out the old buildings or monuments that had been standing since you were a child, remarking on the newer housing, and you remembered them fondly as you recalled some old memories. It was making you grow homesick even while you were here, but you knew the reason why you left in the first place, so you held onto that and pushed it down to enjoy the rest of your visit. 

What you found incredibly humorous was that people still talked about the infamous Valentine's Day massacre and how Harry Warden was the sole survivor of the mining accident. Yes, you found it funny to see people would always need to find someone or something to blame when it was themselves they needed to blame all along It was rumored that he ended up caught eventually and shoved into a facility where he was no longer a threat, but that didn't even stop Harry from somehow escaping the facility he was taken to. They claimed he died in the safety of the institute, but why would they want the word that their number one sought-after killer was gone? 

The little whispers around town still continued and they'd never stop, you figured, but it was quite fun to see what silly stories they made up in this day and age. Mostly still the same thing, and since you were visiting before Valentine's Day, you figured you were safe from any unnecessary silliness that could be caused by the town’s kids. 

Gracie had offered to run and get some food for you both while you said you'd stay behind, so she was gone and it left you to explore the familiar area of your old stomping grounds. You found yourself easily falling back into the rhythm of things and made your way to your old favorite spots around town, and when you got to the docks, you could smell the water as you breathed it in. 

You sat here for what felt like ages and hadn't even thought to leave until you felt the briskness of the chill in the air, plus you figured Gracie would be back at the motel by now and probably freaking out.

So you trekked back the way you came, or so you thought as you tapped your walking stick along the ground. You ran into something solid and you came to a halt, wondering just what you should do. You could dial your friend's number and call her, asking her to help find you, but you'd done this loads of times before on your own, maybe you could prove to yourself that you still had it in you. As you removed your hand from your pants pocket and left your phone where it was, you tapped your stick around and found another path that you had no idea where it led. 

As you continued your journey, you truly weren't familiar with this side of town and you had no idea how you got so turned around. Your phone suddenly began to ring and you fumbled for it in your pocket before you pulled it free and answered. 

"Hello?"

"There you are, where are you? I've been worried sick! Are you okay?" Gracie was yelling on the other end, pure panic in her tone. 

You couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah I'm fine, I got a little turned around, but I'm okay. I'm coming back to the motel, I was near the docks, but I don't know where I'm really at now."

"I can come and find you, I'll ping your location and I'll be there, just try not to wander too far."

You laughed again. "Alright, I'll behave. See you soon." 

You hung up and waited for a good five minutes until you got bored, so you said to yourself you'd only wander around the area, not too far off from where you'd been, and then you began to explore. The way things sounded, you were near a small wooded area filled with birds, so you stood there and listened for a bit before stepping off somewhere else. Your ankle rolled and you tripped over something that your walking stick didn't quite pick up on, your body lurched forward, and you tumbled down a small hill. You weren't hurt, just a little shaken up and even more lost than you were to begin with. 

"Ah damn," you sighed. 

As you got to your feet, you realized your glasses had tumbled from your face, so you knelt back down carefully and tapped the ground for them, not finding them anywhere. 

What you didn't know was that you were being watched by someone, they had seen the entire ordeal and had spotted your glasses on the ground just a few feet away from your wandering hand. The crunch of the leaves beneath the stranger’s feet was masked by the fact you were crawling around on your hands and knees 

Your hand came upon something unfamiliar and you tapped it several times until you realized it was a boot that was connected to a leg. You sprang back and gasped.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that anyone was here!" Your hand was placed on your chest and you tried to control your breathing. "I uh, my name is Y/N, I got a little lost on my way back to my motel… Have you seen my glasses anywhere?"

While you were busy talking, the stranger stared down at you, his breathing heavy from the trek, but he lowered his pick ax and continued to stare. You figured they weren't one to talk much, but you lifted your gaze to them and tried to listen to where they were around you. 

"Uh, you don't talk much, huh?" 

The man grunted in response and you smiled gently. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, maybe you can't talk, who knows. But if you see my glasses anywhere, could you grab them for me?" 

As you looked directly at him, the miner stared down almost dreamily at your eyes and how peculiar they were. It was as if the entire galaxy was taken from the skies and placed gently in your eyes, he'd never seen anything like it. He could have easily stared at them forever, but he knew you'd have to leave him, which was to be expected. 

Your hand touched something and your palm opened, then you felt your glasses drop in your hand along with a gentle feeling of a leather glove.

"Oh, thank you for finding these," you said happily and placed them back on your face. 

"Your eyes," the man's deep, husky voice suddenly said softly, muffled as if something was over his mouth. 

You were taken by surprise and paused as your hands froze. "Wh-what about them?" You asked curiously. You had no idea who this man was or how he found you, but you didn't want to ask just yet. 

"Pretty," was all he said. 

You laughed and looked down, your hands fiddled with your walking stick while your mouth suddenly felt dry. "Thank you, that's very kind of you… My friend Gracie saw them once and she said they looked unique, is that true? I never got to see them, obviously." The little smile you made after speaking only made the stranger feel more interested in you.

"Like stars are in them," he replied shortly. 

Like stars, you couldn't help but find that as unique as Gracie described, and strangely romantic from a stranger you just met. "What's your name?" You wanted to meet his gaze if you could, but kneeling on the cold, crisp leaves beneath you wasn’t so bad.

The man took a sharp breath and wondered what he should do, knowing fully well you were aware of the whispers of Harry Warden, the cannibal monster who snapped, would he ruin this for you completely or would you have no clue? It didn't hurt to test the waters, he wasn't invested completely in you, yet it felt nice that you of all people wouldn't know who he was or about his past. 

You were met with silence again and that's when you sighed with a small grin on your face. "I get it, I'm usually like this with people, too. Uneasy, and untrusting, it's a sign of shared experiences. If I see you again and you're up for sharing, I'd love to know your name." 

It was quiet and then he spoke again. "If I see you again, could I see the stars?"

You bit your lip and nodded. "Yeah, you can see the stars." 

You were alerted to the sound of footsteps nearing you and then the man before you began to take off running, his heavy steps receding further and further away until the pair that you heard behind you were the only ones you could hear. You had wished you could continue your talk with the man, you had enjoyed the shared company and how kind he seemed. It was strange with how awkward he’d been but you didn’t mind, it was nice for a change that he didn’t seem uncomfortable by your condition, he seemed more intrigued than anything. 

Gracie found you on the ground and gasped as she ran toward you. “Y/N, what happened!? Did you fall?”

“Yeah, just a little tumble, I’m in one piece though, we’re all good.” You took her hand and pulled yourself to your feet, then you dusted yourself off as a force of habit. “I promise I’m okay.”

Grace slipped her arm through yours and began to guide you through the wooded area, but you had stopped just for a moment and removed your glasses, hoping that your stranger had seen your gesture that was directed for him, hoping he’d understand that you meant to return one day. 

Harry did see this as he hid amongst the trees, watching the girl guide you carefully, wondering just how long it would be until he saw you again. The one person who wouldn’t run from the very sight of him, the one person who seemed genuinely interested despite the small number of words exchanged on Harry’s behalf. He convinced himself he wasn’t invested, yet here he was his hands gripping the wood of the pick ax, thinking of your eyes and all of the beautiful innocence held within them. If it came down to it, he would kill to see you again.

The miner would try to keep his promise; he would see you again and he would see those stars in your eyes. That was a promise he intended to keep to himself. 

#tinalbion writings #slasher requests #slasher community #slasher fandom #slashers x reader #slashers headcanons #slashers imagines #harry warden #harry warden my bloody valentine #my bloody valentine 1981 #harry warden x reader #harry warden headcanons #harry warden imagines #amab!reader #amalunah

[theflyingfeeling]

I was being so brave and dived head first in your blog to search the domestic prompts like I was trying to find a treasure from the bottom of the ocean. And I was succesful 😎

Can I have Niko/Olli and

we buy another blanket to stop you from hogging the one we do have, but next morning i still somehow find you all snuggled up in mine

🥺❤️

That was very brave of you indeed! 🥰💗

This is the last one of my domestic prompts and probably the last prompt fic one I'll do for a while, so it's time to thank everyone who sent in their requests 🌹 However, please know my askbox is always open for literally anything, and while I may not be reblogging "prompt posts", feel free to send me your ideas still and I'll see what I can do (or just pop in to say hi, I'd love that too <3)

You can find all the domestic prompts in this tag and all the other ficlets I've written on a pinned post on my blog 😘

(1066 words)

Niko smiled as he watched Olli hugging the new blanket (still wrapped up in plastic) to his chest while they queued for the cash register. If he had known it would make his boyfriend so delighted, he would have taken him duvet shopping in their local Ikea ages ago, even if they had accidentally ended up spending well almost 200 euros on new tableware, a rug for their renovated balcony, a floor lamp to replace the one Rommi knocked over, some decorative cushions for the living room sofa where they liked to nap together, and a frame for that picture Aleksi had secretly taken of them at Midsummer last year and gifted to them as a sizeable print for Christmas. However, Niko had only barely managed to rip the giant Blåhaj out of Olli’s hands under the pretext of claiming they had “no room in our tiny apartment for such an enormous thing, and besides, aren’t you a little too old for stuffed toys?”

Niko’s heart broke when he saw the disappointment and hurt on Olli’s face, but how else was he supposed to cover the fact he had already bought one months ago and was planning on giving it to Olli for his next birthday? (That is, if Tommi would take as good care of the fluffy blorb as he had promised he would.)

Eventually Olli had given in and said goodbye to the shark with a seemingly heavy heart and went on about their shopping spree, but when he heard Olli sigh wistfully as a small child walked past them with a Blåhaj in her tiny arms, Niko’s smile faded.

“Wanna grab some sushi and ice cream on our way home?” Niko nudged Olli’s shoulder. The man turned to nod and smile at him faintly, which wasn’t the reaction Niko was looking for, but he supposed it was what he deserved in that moment for being the cold-hearted bitch who didn’t let Olli walk out of the store carrying a huge stuffed toy in his arms like that lucky little girl who skipped along after her parents. 

Niko’s only hope for the evening to not end in tears was that the new eiderdown they had bought would be worth the money and guarantee them both a good night’s sleep with no fighting over the only blanket in the bed any more.

~

“Ahh, best purchase ever!” Olli hummed as he snuggled himself under his brand new duvet so that only his blissful face was showing from under it. Niko grinned as he helped Olli tuck himself in even tighter and mentally crossed his fingers for the thickest and fluffiest duvet they had found to keep Olli warm enough to prevent him from stealing Niko’s again, knowing Olli got cold more easily than anyone Niko knew. He still remembered the time they had been spending the last weekend of August at Niko’s parents’ summer cottage with the guys and how everyone had stayed on the porch drinking and playing card games in their shorts and t-shirts until about one in the morning, while Olli had been curled up in front of the fireplace, having buried himself under all the blankets he could find, chattering his teeth until Niko eventually joined him with an old pair of woolly socks for him to put on.

Of course Niko didn’t wish for Olli to be cold ever – in fact, he had made it his personal mission to keep his boyfriend warm and comfortable at all times – but he did find it ridiculously endearing whenever Olli huddled closer to him to seek warmth, whether it was while lying on the sofa watching a movie or at the metro station after having had dinner downtown. Niko loved it when Olli rested his head on Niko’s shoulder and made these adorable small noises, the tone of which varied depending on whether Olli was more chilly or tired, and Niko could spend forever with Olli’s hands fumbling on his body, looking for a pocket or a crook for him to slip his chilly fingers in until they became as warm as Niko’s own skin. 

There were few downsides to it, honestly; however, one of them was definitely the fact Niko himself often woke up cold and uncovered in the morning, only to find Olli holding on to the duvet they shared as if it was a lifejacket keeping him on the surface of a raging ocean.

“Sleep well, sweetie,” Niko said as he left a soft kiss on Olli’s lips that seemed to be stuck in a satisfied smile.

Already half asleep (or so Niko assumed), Olli only responded with a content humm, wiggling under the duvet a few more times before settling. Niko marvelled at the sleeping figure next to him for a little while, listening to his calm inhales and exhales and memorising each sweet curve of his face before turning off the bedside lamp.

~

When Niko cracked his eyes open at 7 AM, his skin was in goosebumps and his feet felt like icicles, which explained why he had dreamed of it being winter in the middle of late July. 

And when he looked to his side, he understood the reason for his shivers.

Niko could not imagine freeing his duvet from Olli’s grip, not only because it seemed physically impossible due to how firmly Olli was pressing it against his bare chest, but also because he didn’t dare disturb the man’s slumber, not when he was smiling like a child that had fallen asleep on Christmas Day while clutching his new favourite toy in his arms. 

The duvet they had bought had been kicked on the floor, by accident or purpose, Niko could only guess. At that moment, he didn’t know what he had expected.

It was obvious Niko couldn’t have both – a satisfied boyfriend and something to cover himself with in bed at night – so he contented himself with what he currently had and shuffled to meet Olli’s body in the middle of the bed. He touched their noses together, careful not to wake Olli up (even though it would take at least half of an apocalypse for that to happen most mornings), and wrapped an arm around the sleeping man. If Niko had to, he’d happily be the Jack to Olli’s Rose and freeze his ass if that’s what it took to keep Olli’s warm and safe.

#blind channel #blind channel fanfiction #blind channel rpf #not me projecting the fact i'm always cold #currently hiring: someone to keep me warm 🥺 #domestic fluff by theflyingfeeling #next on my to-do list: 1) the bc summer fest assignment 😎 2) the gran hotel au 😌 #maybe if i get bored enough i'll post this and all the other prompts i've done here as a compilation on ao3 🤷‍♀️

[willel]

I'm really not trying to start a ship war or discourse (and this isn't directed at you at all!) so don't answer this if you don't want to create waves but am I the only one that feels like most Willels are Will stans first and only use Willel (and by extension El) to fulfill an agenda whether that be a Will arc or even Byler?

I was just going though the Willel tag on here and a lot of it is just Bylers pulling El into situations to make them potentially being canon less messy and almost not caring about her feelings at all? For example: the idea of Will ending up alone and having to watch the boy he's in love with date his sister after everything he's been though is terrible writing and isn't fair but El breaking up with her first love (someone who, we are under the impression, she still loves) and then having to watch him go on to date her brother after everything she's been through is okay? It just seems odd? and it gets passed off like it's no big deal because "Willel are twins! and they love each other! and just want each other happy!" and yes!!! that's true but it feels like sometimes that's only used as an excuse and if El doesn't fulfill that, she'll be looked at as selfish and a bad sister (and the writing will be terrible) because they don't truly actually care about what she wants or gets, as long as Will is getting what he wants over her.

This isn't me saying you can't be a Willel and ship Byler or Mileven or even have a favorite of the two btw! I love Will but it's just an observation of mine. I kinda just wish this love triangle thing never happened.

Well, firstly, I think you should readjust your perspective. I don't ship Byler (or mileven). All my pals who I speak to in private don't really care about either ship either but we LOVE willel, the byers, El, Will, Jonathan, Joyce (and Hopper sometimes).

I know it's SO hard to wipe away bias or see through the fog, but I implore everyone to TRY. Try not to judge, allow yourself to understand the perspective of the other side even if you don't agree or genuinely do not care (like me with ST shipping). If you find yourself judging too much, take a step back and reevaluate.

I'm not just saying that to say it either, I have to tell myself this every day so that I don't gain a massive hate boner towards all the shippers when it's only a minority of shippers who are the problem people in this fandom. It's... VERY hard. But it's an effort I willingly make else I would've left a long time ago.

Refocusing on the subject matter at hand, yes, I am aware there are some shippers (bylers in this case) that lean in a little too much on El being the catalyst to make their ship happen, hence they may support willel by proxy and only pay attention to willel in service of their ship. They do exist.

But those kinds of people are a minority. I just left the twitter fandom, but you know what I saw a lot of?

I saw one group of fans insisting that El would crush Will under the soles of her boots for even DARING to look at HER man. How she would rip him to shreds, push him off a building, or break Will's neck for so much as looking in Mike's direction. How dare he have feelings for his bff who he's known for years. Will is a bad brother for flirting with his sister's boyfriend (which he didn't do) and trying to make a move while she was gone (again, he didn't do that). You don't like El if you don't ship mileven. You don't like El if you have willel in your name. You don't like El if you ship her brother with her boyfriend. You don't like El if you like Will. El and Mike should call Will slurs. Will is yucky because -insert slur-. Mike would never like a -slur-. Yada yada. (yes, these are things I have seen. these are reasons I block people. for my own sanity.)

When there was backlash against those kinds of people, you'd assume maybe there'd be a wave of hatred against El. Like in return, people could claim Will would break El's neck. He'd push her off a building. She's a bad sister for taking the guy he's had a crush on since he was a kid. Mike should dumb her. El should get her heart broken. Blah blah blah. (on the rare occasion I have seen these, which I can count on two hands, they get blocked too)

That's not what I saw as an unwillingly witness to the fandom ship wars.

The sentiment I saw most was, "You're really pitting Will and El against each other for Mike Wheeler?"

Mike slander, yeah, but THAT was the sentiment I saw amongst byler shippers and people who don't ship either pairing.

Yeah, I side eye the handful of shippers who might be using willel to support their ship, but I am MUCH more bothered and upset by the other side who decide to tear Will and El apart instead. If I were a mileven and actually cared about Will and El as siblings and individual characters, I wouldn't be ripping on them like I see WAY too often.

I would throw my own hat in the ring and start saying they they support MY ship. Will spent the entirety of season 4 trying to keep those two honest with each other and keep their relationship intact even though he was being third wheeled into oblivion. That's how much he cares about those two despite his own feelings. Why AREN'T mileven fans gushing over all that? A character that believes in that ship so much that he's pushing himself aside for them like? Well obviously, it's because the ship war has gotten to their heads and they can't see anything beyond it and only see Will as an obstacle. But anyway.

NOT SAYING I WANT THAT BTW. I would love it if both sides just... let Will and El be. Their individual characters do not revolve around Mike. The bond they have with each other has NOTHING to do with Mike either. In fact, I was really bothered that Mike had anything to say about how Will and El were interacting with each other. Imagine if Will criticized Mike for crapping on his own sister every other episode? He wouldn't, cause that's none of Will's business.

BUT ANYWAY

I am an "El discovers the lie about the painting" truther through and through. Not because I think El will break up with Mike and push Will and Mike together. I honestly have no idea wtf the writers are doing with that plot line and I don't care. I want El to figure out her dear brother is gay, she's the only Hopper-Byers left that doesn't know that yet.

I am a "El would never hurt her brother" truther. Like I said, don't know wtf is happening with the life triangle and I don't care. But I know for a fact El would not break Will's neck, push him off a cliff, or hurt him at all if she learned about his feelings. I think it'd be complicated for sure but El is not violent. She hurts the people who bring harm to her and her friends/family. I HATE when people depict her as a violently jealous girl. It's gross.

Do I think some shippers are placing too much responsibility on El to make byler work? Yes sometimes. In my opinion, El should have absolutely nothing to do with that ship. Not saying she'd hate it, but I think it's too much to have her bring them together. She is still just a teenage girl. It's unfortunate that the writing made Will spent so much time involved with mileven, but at the same time, that is within his character to do such a thing and it was sorta important to his own personal growth.

If you've been following my blog for a long time, you'd know I was someone hoping and praying this love triangle wouldn't happen. I was hoping in season 3 and season 4 they would introduce a new love interest for Will just like they have for every other character. All to prevent the fandom becoming like this and that I knew this road could lead to either Will or El ending up unhappy. The worst possible outcome has come.

But what's done is done.

To summarize, yes, there are some bylers who support willel because in turn, they believe El is a catalyst to their ship. But you'll find MOST Bylers don't believe that at all and that they love Willel entirely separately from their ship. There are Byler shippers that place Willel above their ship or have even dropped their ship in favor of Willel (because in their opinion, Mike makes things complicated/hurts them both. That's up to personal preference and their interpretation)

In turn, I think some mileven fans would benefit from the willel hype by not pushing forward this idea that "Will is stealing El's man" and other ridiculous things. Will has probably loved Mike since before any of them knew El existed. But that doesn't even matter. Will is not gonna make a move on Mike, he would never do that to his sister. Why insist that he did? Why insist that he will? He hasn't. He values El's happiness more than his own. Maybe you guys should lean into that more instead of spreading hatred towards Willel and Will. I just don't get it.

As a frustrated willel lover, my greatest desire is for people to... chill out. Don't generalize. Become consumed by the wonder twins vision, and leave your ships behind! (joking. mostly.)

(also, 'you' is not directed at you. English is fun.)

Hope that answers any questions.

#ask

[loveyougoodbi]

hey! saw your tags on a recent post, is that really true what you said about misha and creation cons being hell for him when spn was airing? that's fucking wild i had no idea it was *that* bad. tell me more

Hii

Well I wouldn't say hell exactly because I'm sure there was lovely people there every time. And I'm sure if he was really affected by it he wouldn't go. I mostly meant he'll for us lol 😆 idk how Misha felt..

But you have to be aware that back then the tensions between the destiel fans (and by extension the misha fans) and the j*2 fans (we called them bi_bros because they loved to claim the show was about sam and Dean and sam and Dean only) were huge. And those fans had the money to give to creation, so creation pandered to them. All of mishas panels and appearances were friday/Saturday while Jens and Jar were only there on Sunday. Apart from photo ops there was no public interaction between j*2 and Misha. Because CE knew that by involving Misha with them especially on Sunday when all the j*2 stans were there would lose them money.

The few times Misha crashed the main panel there were boos from the audience. When a fan would ask a Misha related or destiel question there would be boos from the audience. Everyone was aware. At some point they stopped doing it. J*2 did bring up Misha occasionally but nothing too specific and nothing related to the show or castiel. Cos they knew their audience and their audience had made it a personal mission to erase anyone from the show that wasn't sam and Dean. They especially hated cas and Misha.

There were events created on Facebook about "initiatives" to throw plastic bottles at Misha when he walks by. That was a particularly disgusting one that I will never forget reading. But there were more like that.

At jib 2019 (i believe, sorry if im wrong) a few of them flew all the way to Rome and during the (SCHEDULED!!!!) j2m panel purposefully excluded Misha from all the questions. He had to just sit there. It was so awkward for the 3 of them. There was a lot of other shit that happened those few days that got jensen to defend Misha during their panel and bring up twice how much they love him. I'm on mobile and I really wish i could provide you with links right away but I'll try to add some later.

Anyway my point with thise tags was that jensen would have never done that I few years ago at a creation con. He had talked a little about Dean and cas' relationship at jib but never at creation. Until after 15x18 aired we thought jensen was agreeing with the bi_bros. Now we know that he was... let's say masking his words for the audience. Playing the audience. Is that the expression? So the fact that he said that in front of that audience? Is a big deal. Even if he did backtrack later. I understand why. But his actions after the confession and his view of the show and his character make me believe that he's on our side and always has been.

The end.

#sorry if this makes absolutely no sense #i wish i was one of those coherent blogs with all the answers and links and gifs #but unfortunately all i got is my messy opinions #enjoy 😂

[nashibirne]

Gimme Shelter - 7

Here it is, the last chapter of Gimme Shelter. It took me a while to write it, I kinda had a hard time to let Kat and Henry go... I'm going to miss them. I hope you like the ending I chose for these two. If so, please let me know by leaving a comment, reblog or like. Feedback is much appreciated. 💜

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Kat Spencer)

Words: ~ 4.5 k

Summary: Henry has to deal with a personal crisis and he finds shelter with his old rugby mate Sam and his sister Kat. She used to be Henry’s best friend a very long time ago. Will they be able to become friends again or maybe even more? Chapter 7: An important conversation, a celebration and lots of love.

You can find the previous chapters and my other fics on my masterlist!

Warnings: RPF, mention of mental health issues, smut, sex (p in v), vanilla, unprotected sex, nsfw, 18+, fluff

UNBETA'ED! English is not my mother tongue, so expect bad grammar, wrong spelling, chaotic punctuation and clumsy language. All mistakes are mine…

I got a little help with a certain paragraph, thank you so much @sillyrabbit81 for your advice and your support. Love ya 💕

Credits: Pics for the moodboard from Pinterest. Face claims: Kat = Jennifer Connelly

Disclaimer: I don’t know the real Henry Cavill or anyone who's related to him in any way, this is pure fiction and a lot of wishful thinking.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq @kingliam2019

Let the grand finale begin....

***********

"There's no need to be nervous, Kat."

Henry gave her a smile before taking a sip of his coffee.

They were sitting at their gate, waiting to board the plane that was going to fly them to Jersey.

"I know", Kat sighed, shaking her head slowly, "but I still am. I haven't seen your family in years, there will be so many people I don't know…"

"And they will love you. Look, Kitty, today is gonna be relaxed. You'll meet my parents, my brothers and their families and that's it. Just a casual dinner. Tomorrow there will be the celebration and I promise you it's gonna be great. My folks know how to party," he winked at her with a grin, "and on Sunday everyone except for my parents will be gone and we have a whole week to relax and just enjoy the island and our time together. Okay?"

"Okay," she smiled at him and took a bite of the muffin she had bought at one of the airport cafes, "I'll try to relax. Just distract me, tell me something... anything."

"That's the text for Instagram. The open letter to my fans and followers."

"Well, actually there's really something I want to talk to you about", Henry said reluctantly. He grabbed his phone and opened his google docs. "I need your opinion on this." He gave her his mobile.

Kat saw that the display showed a long text. "What's that?"

"I see," Kat chewed on her lip, looking him in the eyes, "and you want me to proofread it?"

"I want to know what you think about it."

"Alright. Let's see."

She stared at the words on the screen with a beating heart. Henry had been working on this statement quite a while now and she knew it would include his plans for the future. They had talked about different scenarios but she didn't know what he'd finally decided to do with his life and his work. She was curious but at the same time she was scared because many of these scenarios meant that he was going to leave St. Ives and her life. She took a deep breath and started to read.

The statement was deep and of unabashed openness. The way Henry described what he had gone through in the past year was very touching and she had to fight back tears several times. Relief flooded her when she read that he was asking his fans to give him a little more time to reorientate and that he intended to remain in the background for a little longer, stating that he was very happy at the sanctuary he had found and that good friends had given him shelter. What left her completely amazed was the last paragraph.

"Kal is going to take over your Instagram?"

Henry grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah. For a while. I think it's a good solution. I'm going to post pictures of him with captions that let people know what I'm doing without giving up my privacy until I'm ready to return and face the public again. It's my way of letting my fans be a part of my life although I'm not really present. I want to share what I'm up to but not the way I used to do it. I want to do more than promotion and I want to be more than a thirst trap, Kitty."

"You're much more than that, Hen", she took his hands in hers, looking at him with a frown, "so much more."

He gave her a grateful smile.

"I know that but many people don't and that's my own fault. The way I've presented myself on social media was very one-sided in the last year and it will be interesting to find out how many of my 17 Mio followers still like me when all they'll get to see in the next weeks is my dog. The ones that remain are the ones that count and in the future I want them to see who I am and what's important to me. I have picked three topics I want to concentrate on. First: conversation and protection of species in cooperation with Durrell. Second: mental health, focusing on problems men often face. I want to found a charitable trust that helps and supports men with mental health issues and that raises awareness of that topic. Thirdly: Fitness, because it's such an important part of my life. I want to show how good moving can make you feel but I also want to show the risks of overdoing it and that even very fit people can still have body issues and how I deal with these issues myself."

"First of all I think the statement you want to post is great. It's so sincere and you open up so much... It's a risk because you expose yourself but I think people will appreciate your honesty and I'm sure many can identify with what you've been through. And your plans sound fantastic, Henry. I know how important these topics are to you and you're going to be a great ambassador for all of this because it's authentic. This is you, people will notice and appreciate that." She couldn't help but give him a spontaneous hug. "God, Henry, I'm so happy for you."

Henry let out a sigh and shrugged, looking at Kat with an expression full of doubt and insecurity.

"What do you think?"

He hugged her back, pulling her into a tight embrace. "That's such a relief, Kat. I was worried it might sound stupid."

"Not a bit! It sounds perfect. But what about work? Do you already know where to go with your job?"

He took a deep breath.

"Yes. I want to return to filming but I want to leave my comfort zone a bit and try to get different kinds of roles. I'll have to talk to my agent and hope that he can find some interesting projects for me. I also thought about going on the stage again. Back to the roots, maybe I will find a theater that is willing to give me a chance. But that's just an idea, I'm open to anything. I just know for sure that I love my job. I want to be an actor and I'm ready to work again."

"And you will work again. I'm sure. Are you going to tell your family about your plans?"

"Sure. It will be a great relief for them to see that I'm back on track."

"Of course. It's a relief for me too."

"I know…"

They were interrupted by the announcement that boarding was about to start and so they got on the plane, heading to Jersey with a pretty good feeling.

****

36 hours later Kat was still feeling pretty good. The garden party was in full swing and she really enjoyed the jolly atmosphere, the food, the drinks and most of all Henry's company. His family had given her a very warm welcome and so she had a very good time. The garden was beautifully decorated and lit by countless torches, candles and chinese lanterns. A local band was playing cover songs on a little stage and a clown was entertaining the children.

It was almost midnight when Henry turned to her with a smile.

"Time for the big surprise."

"Can't wait. You've been such a mystery-monger lately."

"I know, but you'll soon know why."

"Well, you want to surprise your mum. Isn't that the reason?" Kat was visibly confused and Henry gave her one of his perfectly imperfect winks.

"My mum and...you. Maybe?"

He went away with a grin and left Kat with a beating heart. What kind of surprise could he possibly have for her? On his mother's birthday? She smoothened out her plain black dress with a nervous gesture before she followed Henry with her eyes, her arms resting on the cocktail table right in front of the stage. When he grabbed the microphone, Kat assumed he wanted to hold a speech, maybe telling his family and friends about his future plans but when he turned to the band leader for a whispered exchange she knew there was more to it. Henry nodded at each of the band members and Kat could tell he was nervous by his body language.

"Hello everyone," his deep voice echoed through the speakers, "I'm sorry to interrupt, I know everyone is having a great time and don't worry, I'm not going to bore you with a speech, but I still have prepared a little something. A surprise."

He flashed a bright smile at his mother, ignoring the teasing cheers and whistles coming from his brothers.

"Mum, I racked my brain over a special present for weeks. What would make you happy? What would surprise you? Eventually I had this idea I knew you'd love but that really got me out of my comfort zone. I worked hard on it and I hope you and everybody else will like the result." Henry cleared his throat with a sheepish smile.

"Come on man, spill it." That was Henry's younger brother Charlie and Kat couldn't help but chuckle when his older brother Simon joined in.

"Yeah, Hen, the suspense is killing us."

Henry shook his head, laughing and Marianne Cavill shushed her sons with an amused smile.

"Okay, well... I'm going to sing for you."

"Oh please, spare us. You can't sing." Charlie again, he'd always been a cheeky guy and obviously he hadn't changed a bit. Henry laughed out loud, pointing his finger at Charles.

"Right, brother, that's why I took lessons. I spent many, many hours at our neighbour's who is a vocal coach. Kat is my witness."

All eyes turned on her now and she couldn't give them much more than a shrug, a nod and a smile to confirm his words. She wasn't able to say anything, but her mind was racing. He had been taking singing lessons with Mel, who had been a music teacher and vocal coach before her marriage. The revelation hit her hard and unexpected, flooding her with relief and a hint of shame. She had been so suspicious all this time without a reason. Nothing had been going on between Hen and Mel, nothing inappropriate, nothing intimate. He had been telling the truth.

Henry's voice interrupted her thoughts and she took a deep breath, turning her attention to what was happening on stage.

The band started to play and Kat immediately recognized the song, Green, Green Grass of Home, and when Henry began to sing she was completely captivated by his full, warm and dark voice. He did great up there and it didn't take people long to pull out lighters and smartphones to wave them in the air to the slow rhythm of the song, creating a sea of lights that illuminated the garden.

"Well...I better get started before I chicken out and change my mind." He nodded at the band with a grateful smile.

"We only had the chance to rehearse two times so please be lenient with me. Thanks guys for playing along and allowing me to take over... Anyway, I've prepared three songs. Enjoy."

Kat looked at Mrs Cavill, no, at Marianne -it still felt strange to call her by her first name- and she was beaming, tears of pride and joy sparkling in her eyes. Kat was incredibly happy and proud too, it just felt so good to see Henry perform, completely at ease with himself, confident and charming as ever.

The next song seemed to be some kind of family hymn. After only a few lines of Neil Diamond's Sweet Caroline everybody was singing along, even the kids, and Kat joined in, soaking up the jolly atmosphere and the good mood that was so infectious. Henry obviously had a great time too. He was smiling all over his face and it made Kat glad to see him so relaxed and happy. Before he began singing the last song, he spoke softly into the microphone.

"The next one is for everyone who's in love. Grab your loved ones and get on the dancefloor, it's time for slow-dancing", and after a little pause he added, "this one's for you, Kat."

I know that you've been hurt before

He looked her straight in the eyes and his words sent shivers down her spine. She noticed the curious glances people gave her and she knew she was blushing but she did her best to pretend to be cool, calm and collected, taking a sip of her red wine. When the music set in, Kat easily recognized the song. It was a slow version -Henry's version- of a Curtis Stigers song and she already loved it after the first few words. She knew the lyrics by heart and thinking about them awoke the butterflies in her belly.

Happy couples filled the dancefloor looking lovingly at each other, dancing slowly to the music. Henry's full voice was perfect for the song and he kept looking at Kat. Their eyes were locked and to her it felt like no one else was around, like Henry was singing just for her.

But that won't happen anymore, no no

Just give your heart to me

And I'll guard it with my life

I don't know what I'd do

Baby, without you

His words found their way right into her heart and for the first time in 22 years she felt ready to finally let go of the past, to completely trust him again, to believe him and to forgive him.

You're all that matters to me

The ground that you walk

The air that you breathe

Someday you'll discover

I don't want no other, believe me

You're all that matters, baby

All that matters to me

She realized that a teardrop was rolling down her cheek and she wiped it away hastily. Concern was showing in Henry's eyes when he saw that she was crying but the smile she gave him showed him it was a tear of joy and relief flooded him. He couldn't wait to finish the song now, couldn't wait to dance with Kat, to hold her in his arms.

Loud applause followed his performance, accompanied by calls for an encore that he declined politely with a shy smile. Henry made sure to tell the band to continue with some ballads and after receiving some very tight hugs and kisses from his extremely happy and proud mother he finally joined Kat at their table.

"Fancy a dance?" He offered her his hand with a charming smirk.

She nodded and took his hand, following him to the dance floor where he pulled her close. They swayed slowly to "You Are The Sunshine of my life" for a while without saying anything, content with just looking at each other, before Kat broke the silence.

"You were great up there."

"You liked it?"

"I loved it, Hen. You have a wonderful voice. Mel seems to be a good coach." Kat gave him a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, she is. Once she'd realized that I wasn't interested in more than singing lessons she was very professional and pretty strict."

Henry grinned at her, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise and I wanted you to trust me." He shrugged, giving her a tender smile.

"And I didn't. I let you down. I was such an idiot, Henry. I should have believed you, I am so sor…"

"No, Kitty, please... don't apologize, okay?" He looked at her with a frown, seriousness showing in his eyes. "You had every right to be mistrustful, I understand that. Just tell me that you think you will be able to trust me again some day."

"I already do. I…"

They bumped into another couple and it wasn't the first time. The dance floor was crowded and everyone was keen on congratulating Henry on his performance. It felt like every single party guest was watching them.

"Wanna leave?"

"Yes," Kat nodded with a smile.

****

"It's so peaceful, isn't it?"

"It is. It's beautiful." Kat squeezed Henry's hand before resting her head against his shoulder. They were walking down the beach along the dark shore, that was romantically enlightened by a bright full moon hand, in hand. The sea was calm, just giving off its soothing sounds and a cool breeze that made Kat shiver. Henry took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Thanks", Kat said with a smile, "not only for the jacket but for bringing me here and for this wonderful night."

"Did you enjoy the party?"

"Of course, it was so much fun and I loved your performance. Especially the third song."

Henry stopped walking and turned to her, taking both of her hands in his, looking her deep in the eyes.

"Every single word was true, Kat. I meant it. I'd never hurt you again. You're really all that matters to me. I know you find it hard to believe me, but…"

"I believe you," Kat cut in, "I felt it. I feel it now."

Henry stared at her. "You do?"

"Fuck, yes, I do!" Kat threw her head back, laughing out loud, feeling incredibly happy and light-hearted all of the sudden. "And I feel the same, Hen. Exactly the same."

She cupped his face with her hands and did what she had been longing to do for so long. She kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, almost shy and when Henry felt her mouth on his, her soft lips united with his, skin on skin, no tongue, just tenderness and love, he was beyond happy and savoured every single second.

When Kat pulled away reluctantly he rested his forehead against hers taking a deep breath.

"I feel like 17 again", he whispered.

Kat laughed softly at his words. "So do I. It feels great."

The next kiss started off just like the previous one, innocent and sweet, but when Henry pulled Kat close to deepen the kiss all the bottled-up sexual tension and energy, all the suppressed passion and desire of more than 20 years erupted and they started to make out hungrily, starving for love and intimacy. After a while things really heated up and Henry was the one to put the brakes on when Kat started to fumble with his fly.

"If you don't want me to take you right here we better take it to the bedroom, Kitty", Henry sighed, his voice thick with arousal and desire.

"Well, I've never done it on the beach…", Kat smirked, biting her lower lip.

"Seriously? Here?" Henry took a look around checking if the coast was clear.

"I was joking, Hen. I hate having sand in every pore." Kat nudged him with a grin. "Just take me home."

They made it to the cottage in record time and started to undress each other right in the little hallway, kissing and fumbling like teenagers. While Kat was unzipping Henry's trousers, he was unsuccessfully trying to open her bra.

"Front clasp, Hen", Kat explained to him breathlessly.

"Fuck", Henry chuckled, "I swear I'm not gonna be that clueless once I'll have you naked."

"Good," she answered with a lewd smile, stripping off her bra when he'd finally managed to open it, standing in front of him in just her panties.

"God, you're beautiful, Kitty." Henry let his eyes wander all over her body while stepping out of his pants. He took off his socks and now he was facing her naked too, except for his briefs.

"You don't look so bad yourself, pop."

She grabbed him by the hem of his underwear, pulling him close for another kiss. Kat gasped when he lifted her up effortlessly, wrapping her legs around his waist, feeling his hard-on pressing against her wet panties. She moaned into his mouth when he moved his hips, dry humping her teasingly. Henry carried Kat to his bedroom and laid her down on the bed. He stripped off her pants before he did the same with his and when they finally were both naked he climbed on top of her, looking her deep in the eyes, before kissing her again. It was a long, slow kiss and Kat let her fingers run over his back till they reached his butt. She squeezed his ass and pulled him close, sighing with lust when Henry started to kiss her tits and to suck her nipples. She reached between her legs and grabbed his dick that was pretty impressive, giving it a few strokes that made him moan loudly.

"Fuck, Kat...I need you…I need to feel you...now."

She brought the tip of his cock to her entrance, bucking her hips, inviting him in.

"Take me. I'm yours, Henry."

"Are you on birth control?"

"I am, don't worry. Just go for it. Please."

Her words weren't more than a hoarse whisper but Henry heard them crystal clear. He moaned again when he realized that it was finally going to happen. He was about to make love to Kat and it was like a dream come true. A hot, sexy, wet dream and he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. He penetrated Kat slowly, gently, enjoying the moment that marked the beginning of their first time.

"God, Hen…", Kat moaned softly as he stretched her pussy, kneading his ass and lifting her hips to meet him halfway, "you feel great."

"I love you, Henry," she whispered before she came with a loud moan. She arched her back and Henry felt the shiver that ran through her body and the contraction of her pussy that tightened around his cock. The feelings that flooded him were more than Henry could take and he cried her name out loud when he got off, releasing an enormous amount of cum and the thought of filling her up like this made him thrust into her cunt hard and deep one last time. "Fuck...Kitty." He collapsed on top of her, gasping and panting, holding her tight, pressing a kiss on her lips. Henry looked her in the eyes with a loving smile.

He started to move slowly once he filled her completely, looking her in the eyes. It was impossible to turn back time. He wasn't her first, she wasn't his first but he still intended to make their first time together feel special, he didn't want to fuck her mindless, he wanted to make tender love to her. He thrusted a little faster and deeper now and Kat followed his rhythm, her gaze resting on his face. They shared another sensual kiss, moving in sync for a wonderful long time, prolonging the intimate moment as much as possible, enjoying the sensation of closeness, their bodies and souls connected.

Henry's moans got louder, turning into raspy grunts which was a great turn on for Kat, who was a panting mess. Breathing heavily she was getting closer to cumming with every thrust that hit her cervix, with every stroke, brushing against her g-spot, with his lower body pressing and rubbing against her clit. She watched Henry, who had his head bent back now, eyes half closed, his upper body propped up on his elbows that were placed left and right of her torso. She wrapped her legs around him, making him go even deeper before she grabbed his head and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. They locked eyes and his gaze was full of tenderness, his pupils tinted black and filled with lust.

"I love you too, Kat."

A few minutes later they were lying side by side, holding hands, their faces turned to each other.

"We should have done that 22 years ago."

Henry grinned at Kat, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"I doubt it would have been so good. Teenage Kat was very self-conscious and a little prude and I guess teenage Henry wasn't a pro at handling this weapon right from the start." Kat touched his dick and gave him a teasing wink that made Henry chuckle.

"Right. We've come a long way. It just feels like we've wasted so much time...all these years."

"We can't change that, Hen", Kat said, "but we can make the most of the time that's still to come. Let's just be happy together from now on. Let's spend as much time together as possible, let's have lots and lots of fucking great sex, let's have fun, let's share our joys and sorrows, let's share our lives."

****

Epilogue

Two years later.

Kat sat at her desk in her office with a happy smile on her face. Mr. Darcy was sleeping on her lap and she held a letter in her hands. Bringing it close to her nose she took a deep breath, smelling Henry's scent, his tangy, musky cologne. It was a habit they had established in the last years. Whenever Henry and Kat were separated for more than a few days they sent each other love letters. Handwritten in ink, the exclusive, handmade writing paper perfumed with their odours, the lines filled with their love. The letters usually weren't long, most of the time they shared just short poems or simply a few sentences about how their days had been without each other. It was their old fashioned way of showing their affection and of staying in touch in addition to their conversations via phone or facetime.

"A letter from daddy", Kat whispered, stroking her round belly tenderly. Eight weeks to go until they would welcome their first child and a little more than half a year until their wedding. "Let's see what it's saying."

Kat opened the letter carefully and pulled out the thick paper to unfold it.

"My darling Kitty,

Only three days to go until I finally can take you in my arms again. I can't wait to kiss your lips and your belly to greet you and our little bean. I don't have much time, you know how tight my schedule is, but I needed to write down this poem for you. It would make a great wedding vow, don't you think? Just read it and let me know how you feel about it when I'm back.

"Mouthful Of Forevers

I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forevers. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin.

Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle. This is how we heal.

I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book.

I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you.

And I will not be afraid of your scars. I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I will love you when you are a still day. I will love you when you are a hurricane."

Isn't it perfect for us?

by Clementine von Radics

I love you!

Forever yours,

Henry"

***********

The End

#henry cavill #cavillry #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill smut #friends to lovers #slow burn #Spotify

[thechangeling]

Five

Ok so I actually got this idea awhile ago long before someone suggested it on here. Ty finding a letter that Christopher Lightwood wrote.

Tbh I don't know if I got Christopher's voice right. I tried my best!

I listened to Five and Mind by SAL while writing this.

Cw: Mentions of ableism.

For the future,

To whomever may be reading this, I would first and foremost like to begin by mentioning that I have not the slightest idea why I am writing this letter. Perhaps I have gone mad, just like everyone always says.

I believe most importantly that I have a strong desire to maintain hope for the future. Hope for a future that can and will include people like me. Shadowhunters who are different like me. And as I reach out into the void, across the empty chasm of time, I cannot stop myself from wondering.

Wondering what your life has been like. Wondering if your childhood was as lonely and frightening and complex as mine. Wondering if you were also seen as the outcast. Strange and offputting, but brilliant.

The smart one.

Do you find yourself with the inexplicable need to pull apart every peice of this fascinating existence and examine it at greater length? To analyze and discover answers to questions you honestly did not even realize you had until that very moment? Do you think like I do?

I am very fond of science. Some might say too fond. Most shadowhunters find it unusual for a fellow shadowhunter to be so invested in what they view as mundane business. I suppose shadowhunters are meant to be fighters and not scientists, which I find utterly ridiculous. Science is the key to everything. As a matter if fact, I have proven time and again how useful it can be to be to examine a problem from all possible angles rather then continuing to believe that there is only one right way.

Nephilum are stubborn as you know, and they can also be cruel. I am sure you understand just how painful it can be to be different, especially when no one will ever let you forget it.

The people I grew up with, my family and friends for the most part mean well. My parents always encountered my interests and never scolded me for behaving in a way that others may have thought to be abnormal. My friends however, are a more complicated story. There love has always felt, strange. Lack-luster in some ways, almost superficial.

They never took an interest in my experiments or listening to me talk about them. Which I understand, some people seem to find science frightfully dull. However it always hurt, knowing that the people who claimed to be my friends did not fully accept me.

I think you'll find a lot of that in your life. People will only take a liking to certain parts of you, often requiring you to pretend to be something you're not to gain their approval. You will need to twist and remold yourself into a more appropriate shape. But if you are here, reading this letter then I beg of you, please learn from my mistakes. Do not lose yourself.

Please do not sacrifice one precious bit of that brilliant mind. It is your most treasured possession. I understand this world and this society are harsh and cruel. There are people who will want to use you for their own personal gain. They will see you as what you can do for them and not as a whole person. We are only valuable to them if we can serve them. To make revolutionary discoveries or to create brilliant masterpieces. Please remember that you belong to yourself and you do not have to please them to be great.

Yes you can change the world, but please heed my words and remember that you do not have to. You can save them from themselves, from their own stupidity and arrogance. But do they deserve it?

Finally, I wish to leave off on a more pleasant note. I want you to remember that no matter how lonley and isolated you may feel, you are never alone. We have always existed and we always will. Whatever you decide to do with this life, I want you to remember to trust yourself and trust that only you know what is right for you. No one else.

In a world that demonizes and dehumanizes those who are different, the most powerful act of defiance you can perform, is loving yourself. I can proudly say that I have finally managed to do exactly that.

I encourage you to do the same.

Sincerely,

Christopher "Kit" Lightwood.

Ty didn't realize he was crying until he saw the droplets of water hitting the page. Quickly he set the letter down beside him and quoted his eyes to avoid ruining the old parchnent any further.

He had been exploring the attic in Ciernworth while Kit looked after Mina downstairs. Ty found he could only take so much of the three year olds antics before he needed a break. Kit didn't seem offended. He understood that sometimes Ty just needed to be alone.

Which had led him to finding the letter hidden into a hole in the wall.

Ty was stunned. He was feeling a lot of things, none of which he could quite get a grip on. He knew of Christopher Lightwood of course, he was a shadowhunter legend. Did this letter mean?

Was Christopher...like him? Autistic? Was that what he had been referring to? Of course Christopher wouldn't have had the words back then.

But he still knew, Ty thought. Just like I knew.

The tears came again as he let Christopher's words sink in.

Kit, his brain supplied. He went by Kit. Just like my Kit.

By the angel that really wasn't helping. Ty picked up the letter again.

"You are never alone," he read out loud. And it felt real. It felt tangible, like Christopher was speaking to him in the room, like he was holding Ty's hand. Like Ty could just reach out.

It felt like a lifeline.

Ty let out a shakey breath that then formed into a laugh as he let the tears dry on his cheeks.

  "Thank you," he whispered into the empty silence.

And Ty could only hope that the message was recieved.

Tag list lmk if u wanna be removed/added.

@playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @dianasarrow @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @the-wckd-powers @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @felicitygeorgia @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan @eutonyinwhisper

#tsc #tda #the dark artifices #kit x ty #twp #ty blackthorn #christopher lightwood #tlh

[rngknsk]

The Aftermath

Chapter 2: Dinner

Sanemi Shinazugawa/Reader (F)

Three months have passed since you woke up at the Butterfly Estate beside your good friend Sanemi Shinazugawa. You have healed physically, but not emotionally. You take up an offer to spend some time by yourself at the Shinazugawa residence, hoping to finally find peace with yourself.

**THIS STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THE DEMON SLAYER MANGA. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED THE MANGA.**

Tags/warnings: Shared trauma, angst, survivors guilt, slight tw, comfort, slight fluff, reader is a Hashira

Chapter 1 can be read here.

You can also read Chapter 2 here on Ao3. 

Enjoy! :)

A little over three months had passed since defeating Muzan Kibutsuji and the remaining Upper Moons. Your injuries, along with the others who had survived the fight, were just about fully healed. One week prior to today, the demon slayer corps had been disbanded. Sanemi Shinazugawa, Giyuu Tomioka, and yourself had attended the final meeting called by the late Kagaya Ubuyashiki’s only son and successor, Kiriya Ubuyashiki. The remaining Ubuyashiki children were very grateful to you three. As the only remaining Hashira, they were only able to verbally express their appreciation for your support, to that you three slayers returned as well. If it wasn’t for the Ubuyashiki family, Muzan would have never been defeated in the first place. It was due to their clever organizational skills that any of you were even alive.

Concluding the meeting, Kiriya went on to inform the three of you now-retired Hashira that they had planned for a glorious celebration dedicated to the demon slayers to celebrate humanity’s victory. The celebration would be held at the Ubuyashiki estate since the grounds were substantial enough to hold all sorts of people and activities. Crows were sent to villages and towns across the land to inform of the festival, welcoming those who wished to show their appreciation to the remaining retired demon slayers for risking their lives for such a noble cause, and to pay their respects to those who committed the ultimate sacrifice. Every single village that was visited by a crow had accepted the invitation, many planning to bring dishes, drinks, and desserts of all kinds. Another large town had offered to bring fireworks to light up the skies at dusk.

After you were released from the Butterfly Estate’s infirmary, Sanemi had allowed you to stay at his residence while he remained. You had grown up living at the Rengoku residence after Shinjuro Rengoku saved you after your family perished at the hands of demons. Even after you became a Hashira, you would return to their home after long missions; however, part of you wanted time to yourself after losing so many people in such a short time. You loved Shinjuro and Senjuro Rengoku like family, but a feeling deep down in your heart persuaded you to accept Sanemi’s kind offer. After spending three whole months at the Butterfly Estate, constantly being woken by the voices of others you shared your hospital room with, you thought this would be a perfect opportunity to allow yourself to mourn in a healthy fashion. You spent a week at the Shinazugawa residence, taking time to heal your mental state in solitude. Sanemi Shinazugawa was a very secluded man and claimed he did not need the aid of the Kakushi throughout his time as a Hashira, so his residence remained empty until you arrived. There, you took time strolling through his gardens, tending to his flowers and various plants he owned and raised. You were surprised he didn’t show you his gardens after spending so much time training with him in his courtyard. The idea of Sanemi watering flowers made you laugh to yourself; this tough, vicious man taking the time out of his violent days of slaying demons to water some plants. Through the garden ran a small creek surrounded by neatly placed stones on either side, depositing into a pond with koi fish which seemed to be rather well behaved. At the center of his garden was a great, majestic weeping willow tree. The leaves of the tree draped down magnificently, just several feet from the ground. Most of your week was spent meditating underneath this tree. You felt safe underneath it, almost as if it was protecting you from anything outside of its weeping branches. The faint running water of the stream aided your meditation, allowing yourself to find peace at last. You also made sure to frequently check on his rhinoceros beetle that he kept in a quaint tank. You had seen him once or twice when you had visited Sanemi in the past, the memory of his name resting at the tip of your tongue. Taichi? That sounded right. You had to admit though, he was pretty adorable for a bug, and quiet too. You didn’t exactly know what to feed him, so you tried giving him a mix of greens and fruit you had harvested from the garden outside. He seemed pretty happy with what you gave him because he just about finished whatever you gave him.

It was evening when Sanemi had returned to his home, as promised by the nurses of the Butterfly Estate. In honesty, Sanemi had recovered almost two weeks ago, however the nurses insisted he remain in their care until they knew for sure his injuries wouldn’t reopen. To your surprise, Sanemi didn’t argue like he typically would. Instead, he simply agreed to stay, while on the other hand, you were able to leave just a week later. He had sent his crow the day before, informing you of his anticipated arrival, so that morning you were sure to stop in a town nearby to purchase some ingredients for a hearty meal that you figured you two could share. He wasn’t a picky eater by no means. You picked out many ingredients, green onions, mushrooms, tomatoes, napa cabbage, fresh beef, and wheat flour for the noodles you planned to knead and cook yourself. You also made sure to purchase the ingredients you needed to make his favorite sweet, ohagi. The villagers had recognized you as one of the former Hashira, insisting that you did not need to pay them for your pickings, however you persuaded them to accept your money regardless of your status. It was a strange feeling; you didn’t like being treated as someone of such importance. After all, you weren’t a Hashira anymore since the demons were defeated.

Once you returned back to the Shinazugawa residence, you spent the entirety of the day preparing your dough for the sukiyaki dish that you planned to make and bounced back and forth between making that and the ohagi as well. You imagined how Sanemi would react to making such a large meal, although you were sure he would enjoy it just as much as he enjoyed the meals prepared at the Butterfly Estate. Admittedly, the Kakushi who prepared your meals were very talented with cooking, and you were pleased that they provided such a wide range of dishes during your stay. It was a nice change to be provided with a warm meal that you didn’t have to make yourself. While living with the Rengoku family, you were typically the one to cook the meals during your days off from slayer assignments, and while on the clock, you were the one to provide for yourself. However, out of all the years you knew Sanemi, you never cooked for him before, and that made you anxious. What if he didn’t like your cooking? What if the noodles were too tough, or the vegetables were undercooked? You took a deep inhale in through your nose for a moment, then exhaled through your mouth. There was no time for worrying. If you wanted to make these dishes perfect, then you needed complete concentration.

Just a few hours before the sun set, Sanemi arrived at home. You had finished setting the table, just gathering up the leftover dishes that you used to cook. The door slid open and you jumped at the sound, reflexively whipping your frame around to face where he stood. He no longer was covered in bandages; only extra scars added to the previous ones littered his exposed skin. His face held an expression of disbelief at the sight of the prepared table; he certainly wasn’t expecting a home cooked meal.

“Welcome home, Shinazugawa-san,” you chirped. “I made dinner for us, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“You made all of this?” He questioned, taking a few steps inside before sliding the door close behind him. “I smelled it a mile away, of course I’m hungry. It smells great, L/N-san.”

You let out a quiet sigh of relief. That was a good sign, he thought it smelled good! You removed your apron and neatly folded it, setting it down on the ground beside the table. Sanemi made his way towards the table, kneeling down in front of it before scooting himself forward. You followed, clapping your hands together in thanks.

“Thank you for the meal!” You said, drool practically leaking from the corners of your mouth as you hovered over the hot, steaming bowl of sukiyaki. Sanemi smiled at your gesture, putting his hands together as well.

“Yeah, thanks for the meal,” he agreed. “I really appreciate it.”

You only gawked at the man sitting across from you. Was this really the same guy you’ve spent the last few years training with? He’s always been so brash, even towards you. The Sanemi you know would have scoffed at you without even voicing any thanks and dug right into his meal. You didn’t really know how to feel about his recent alter in personality. To be honest, you started to notice the drastic change as soon as you woke up in the Butterfly Estate just a few months prior to today. Sure, he’s always has his moments when he was tired, or even for an hour or so on a day off that you both shared sparring, but ever since the day you woke up, ever since you saw him cry, he’s been incredibly passive and compliant towards everyone. You told yourself that it was most likely due to the defeat of Kibutsuji and all demons. He didn’t have to hold such an aggressive persona anymore now that humanity’s biggest threat was eliminated. He could let his guard down a bit and try to enjoy the new chance of life that he was given. You couldn’t complain though, as amusing as it was whenever he would yell at you or call you names while you two trained or were assigned on missions together, it was nice to be friends with somebody who treated you as their equal rather than their inferior. Somewhere deep down, you thought, Sanemi never meant the things he said that might have hurt your feelings in the past.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to start eating?” he mumbled through a mouth full of noodles and meat. His pale lavender eyes darted downwards toward the faintly steaming ohagi resting on a dish in the center of the table. “I see you also made ohagi. Hopefully you made it right.”

Your cheeks puffed up in a pout, swiping the chopsticks from beside your sukiyaki dish. “Of course I made it right, red bean, just how you like them!”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sanemi chuckled after he swallowed.

After you both finished your sukiyaki, you sat and chatted for a little bit while munching on your ohagi. He told you about how he was one of the last patients to leave the Butterfly Estate, and how annoying he thought this one Kakushi worker was.

“She would check up on me almost every thirty minutes, always asking if I was hungry or thirsty, or if I was in any pain,” Sanemi groaned, visibly becoming more irritated as he explained. He was certainly picky when it came to people. That certainly did sound annoying, however you knew that the Kakushi girl was most likely only doing her job to make sure Sanemi was as comfortable as possible. “It got to the point where I had to start telling her to screw off, but she never got the hint. It was almost like she kept bothering me on purpose.”

“It seems to me that she was just doing what she was told,” you reasoned as you picked up your tan ceramic mug of warm green tea, taking a sip before continuing. “I’m sure she wasn’t doing it on purpose, she probably had orders to keep an eye on you.”

“Well, I’m sure she didn’t have orders to check in on me that often, nobody else was checked on that much at the Estate, not even you or Giyuu. I bet if I had been more aggressive towards her then maybe she would have left me alone.”

You rolled your eyes at his last comment. That sounded more like the Sanemi you knew, trying to scare people away, especially people who tried to help him. You knew that all too well. He was the same way towards you when you both met for the first time. You became a Hashira after he did, so he initially saw you as his inferior. He tried to intimidate you before every Hashira meeting began, to which you will admit, you did end up becoming nervous around him during those gatherings.

A few years ago, shortly after you were just promoted to a Hashira, you both were assigned on a mission together. It was a several day-long mission, most of it consisting of travel time. He was very hostile towards you in the beginning of your journey, snapping at you over any small question you asked. You had always made the first move to question what he wanted for dinners, but it ended up becoming a chore to agree on meals with him. Whenever you suggested something, he would always shoot down your proposal before eventually insisting on what his tastebuds craved. You imagined that you both could have saved so much time on that mission if he had just answered you appropriately the first time. After several days of sticking together, you could tell he was starting to calm down around you. Sanemi could never be perfectly calm, so when you say he “calmed down,” he was just slightly less hostile towards you whenever you spoke to him. Regardless, you tried your best to stand your ground and remain friendly towards him after contemplating if this was just the way he was always going to be. Sanemi was your partner on this mission after all, so to make sure the mission was completed correctly you figured you’d at least stay on good terms until then.

Following the completion of that mission, Sanemi’s taunting seemed to die down during Hashira meetings, and you found yourself having neutral conversations with him from time to time. It wasn’t until after Kyojuro Rengoku’s untimely death that you found him approaching you outside of Hashira meetings.

You were truly heartbroken over the death of your closest friend, and you took it very hard. Admittedly, you were on the verge of giving up as a Hashira because of it. You stopped showing up to Hashira meetings and received many letters from the other Hashira and even Kagaya Ubuyashiki himself, but you ignored them all. The first person to approach you was Sanemi, who had traveled to the Rengoku residence where you lived. He had come to offer you a meal and some company, which was quite astonishing to you. The last time you had seen him was during Kyojuro’s funeral, but he had not interacted with you at all; none of the Hashira did, except Mitsuri Kanroji for a brief moment of mutual comfort.

Sanemi apologized that he didn’t offer his sympathies earlier. He also informed you that everyone was worried over your lack of participation, to which you scoffed.

“If they’re so worried, then maybe they should check up on me themselves,” you said.

“That’s why I came instead.”

You were taken aback by his quick response. That was the first day that you recalled his change in personality, at least towards you. He was easily able to persuade you to begin attending meetings again, and even went as far as to invite you to train with him at his residence. Slowly, you started to notice yourself becoming more and more comfortable around him, enjoying the time that you spent in his company. There were certainly still times that he insulted you for not being able to knock him down in a spar, but he didn’t come off as purposefully aggressive like he used to. Kagaya Ubuyashiki recognized how well you two regarded each other and sent you on many missions together. You eventually became confused over how you truly felt towards Sanemi.

You never wanted to admit it, but it was certain that you deeply admired your fellow Hashira. In any other case, you would have believed that you were in love with him, but there was no way that you would ever admit to something so ridiculous. Sanemi was the complete opposite of you, so self-assured and violent, he was discourteous to everyone he met, which would frankly only harm your reputation if you were to commit to him. But the biggest reason of all was that you were both demon slayers, Hashira particularly. Neither of you had time to devote to such a thing as a relationship, because any mission you could take on may well possibly be your last. Being a Hashira was a considerable obligation, to which you were entrusted to protecting the lives of those weaker than you.

For the time being, you pushed away your feelings for Sanemi. You figured that he was too focused on his work and didn’t have time for a romantic relationship anyway. That was, until you woke up after defeating the demons.

“L/N-san? What are you looking at? You’ve been staring at my shoulder for a while. Is there a bug or something?” You were pulled out of your reminiscing, focusing on the silver-haired man you were recalling from your memories once again. He dorkily brushed his shoulder with his hand. “Nothing’s there,” he murmured.

“Sorry, Shinazugawa-san, I guess I zoned out for a second there,” you stammered.

He raised a faint eyebrow towards you, almost as if in question. You tapped your fingernails on your cup of tea that was now room temperature before quickly pulling it up to your mouth to chug the rest of the herbal liquid in hopes to break this awkward tension. When you returned the cup to the table in front of you, Sanemi spoke up to change the subject.

“I received a letter from the Ubuyashiki family’s crow yesterday, it was a reminder about the celebration tomorrow night.”

You softly gasped, remembering the same letter you received the previous day as well. You were so focused on seeing Sanemi again today that you totally forgot that tomorrow was the celebration that was dedicated to the former demon slayers.

“Oh, yeah,” you began. “It is tomorrow, isn’t it? How time flies,” you chuckled to hide your uneasiness. It was no matter, Sanemi effortlessly picked up on the way your body tensed up.

“Did you have something in mind that you were going to wear?”

You pondered for a moment, trying to imagine the inside of your closet back at the Rengoku residence. You owned a few pretty kimonos, however you received them as gifts when you were still an early teenager. Now that you were almost a decade older, you had no doubt that they didn’t fit you anymore.

“Well, not exactly,” you started off. “I have some kimonos, but I don’t think they really fit me anymore. After I became a demon slayer, I typically only wore my uniforms while I outgrew the other clothes I had.”

Sanemi hummed at your response. He leaned forward onto the table, propping himself up with a forearm while grinning strangely at you. His gesture sent a chill up your spine, and you noticed your face feeling rather warm. “Huh, is that so? I guess that means that we’ll have to go to town tomorrow to find you something nice to wear. I’m not letting you go to the festival looking like a fool.”

You gaped at him, unable to articulate a response right away. Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling flattered, almost honored, to be his concern. He wanted you to look nice tomorrow is what he was trying to convey. Such a trivial thing to be concerned about, you thought, but he did have a point. You would be meeting many people the least you could do was try to look presentable. After all, this was a celebration in honor of your victory.

“You’ll go with me, Shinazugawa-san?” you questioned with wide eyes, just to be sure you heard him correctly.

“Of course I’m gonna go with you, did you even hear what I just said? You can spend the night here and we can leave at dawn, I have an extra futon you can use. We’ll have a while before the festival starts tomorrow afternoon, so maybe we can stop for lunch when we get there. My treat, since you made such a good dinner tonight,” Sanemi avoided eye contact when he complimented your cooking skills, almost as if he was too shy to actually admit it to your face.

Your face broke out in a wide smile, a wave of encouragement washing over you. He actually liked your cooking! After worrying all day over it, you actually succeeded in making a meal that Sanemi would enjoy! Not one bit of his meal was left you noticed, and he even finished two or three cups of the tea you brewed. That was a huge accomplishment in your book.

“That sounds like a great idea, thank you for coming along with me!” You bowed your head in appreciation. “I suppose it’s smart to have a second opinion on whatever I decide to wear.”

Sanemi scoffed, standing from the table and gathering your empty dishes and cups and walking away with both hands full. “I’m sure you’ll look fine in whatever you put on,” he mumbled as he strode off to the kitchen.

You were left alone at the table, looking down as you twiddled your fingers nervously. It was one thing after another that made your heart rate speed up, it seemed. You didn’t exactly know how to handle this new Sanemi, you figured he wouldn’t care what you intended to wear, or to even go as far to take you out to find a nice outfit. Typically, he would mock anything you wore that wasn’t your corps uniform, so that final compliment was what threw you off the most. You exhaled loudly and clapped your palms against your reddened cheeks, hoping to scare away the tingles that ran throughout your body. The only thing you could focus on right now was figuring out what Sanemi’s intentions were with you. Sure, they were harmless compliments and kind gestures, but it was a whole other level for this man. He didn’t regularly give out compliments. In fact, he didn’t give them out at all. But now…? No, you thought. He’s just your friend, he just has a funny way of showing it. There was no way that he felt anything romantic for you. Even if he did, you would know it by now. Sanemi was a very blunt person, and he was always honest with you… sometimes a little too honest. You bit your nail as scenarios raced through your mind. Being Sanemi’s friend was like being on a rollercoaster, sometimes you didn’t know what to expect. Sometimes it was disappointing, while other times it was a thrill.

Footsteps approached you again, tearing you from your ruminations. “It’s getting pretty late now; we’ve been talking for almost two hours. If we’re gonna be up early then we should at least get some decent sleep.”

Sanemi showed you to his room where he laid an extra futon just a few feet away from his own. You had been using his futon since you arrived at his residence a week ago and made sure to wash it before you first used it and after you last used it. He fluffed his extra futon up, asking you how you preferred to sleep, to which you insisted that you were pleased with any way your futon felt. You were just grateful that he even offered to have you spend another night.

He blew out the candle that sat between your futons that he originally lit to illuminate the room until you were both situated in your mattresses. You turned to your side to face away from his direction, taking a bundle of your heavy blanket into your embrace. You wondered to yourself if you should tell him good night or not. Would that be weird? You always said good night to Kyojuro and Senjuro. After a minute, you took in a deep breath and worked up the courage to speak, but were alas disrupted by a deep snore. Sanemi must be one of those people who fall asleep easily, you thought. It wasn’t very long before you followed, feeling an unfamiliar sense of comfort just before you fell into the unconscious world of sleep.

#shinaguzawa sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi #shinazugawa #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kny x reader #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fanfic #comfort #fluff #angst #writing #sanemi fanfic

[sinvomits]

Lovefool Swing - Chapter 1

Pairing: Cho Sang-woo x Ali Abdul

Word Count:  6552

Summary:  “One link went to another and another and soon he found himself looking at something interesting. The specific amateur gay tag on the Korean forum board he frequented had a boy that had posted about three days ago. It had some engagement and he could see why.

Help Me Understand Myself...😅😋”

Warnings: Extremely Explicit... Sang-woo is kinda is a dick at the end of this chapter?

A/N: Hey again! I have no idea where this fic is gonna go but this is for someone on the Sali Discord, combining two concepts together. This is an AU but also kinda divergent? Sang-woo made a fuck ton of money gambling his mother's house and actually is successful at his job. Be warned it gets kinda raunchy really quick but I'm not gonna guarantee that in every chapter haha. Hope you enjoy. I also wanted to thank Inorganic_soot for helping me out with Urdu

Also this fic is named after the Lovefool Swing remix by Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Junkbox. Give it a listen if your interested. <3

Chapter 1: Dear I Fear We’re Facing A Problem

“I guess I’ll try to explain myself. This is sort of new for me…”

Sang-woo was not a man who often went on these types of sites. Gi-hun, one of his long-time friends, had mentioned it in passing while they were drinking.

“They do anything for you as long as you give them money. I wish I had some.”

Anything? Well that was not true… Sang-woo looked up what Only’s was and saw that these people would perform for their donors, with some limits that the user decided. He tried to browse the interface but quickly found it frustrating. Sang-woo had sneered, losing interest and then switching his attention to something he actually was interested in, the market. He yawned, going through threads and smirking at those who claimed to know “insider knowledge” on the stocks, replied to a couple of questions but then became… distracted. One link went to another and another and soon he found himself looking at something interesting. The specific amateur gay tag on the Korean forum board he frequented had a boy that had posted about three days ago. It had some engagement and he could see why.

Help Me Understand Myself...😅😋

Interesting… Sang-woo’s eyes gazed at the boy's face. He was very attractive, but was not of Korean descent. He was brown, and looked like he shaved. His eyes were large, adding to his cute boyish charm, but what interested Sang-woo most was that he had a nice body. He was built, and showed it off. In the picture it seemed like he was naked, the picture cutting off at his waist. He had a gentle smile. The way he coyly looked at the camera, while his black locks fell across his face, peaked his interest. So here he was, subscribed to this boy on this shittily designed website for at least a month. But there was no real harm… it cost about twelve thousand won. He would end the subscription next month. He watched the kid fidget and smile nervously at the camera while he sipped on his favorite whisky.

“I kinda got into trouble… Last month…” He said. His voice was very pleasant, soft and gentle, like a wave gently lapping against his body. Sang-woo didn’t do it much, but it did make him smile. He’s very cute. He thought to himself. “I… I…” He sighed and looked away from the camera. “My wife divorced me. Honestly, I think she was in the right too. ” Sang-woo raised an eyebrow, taking another swig of whisky. Were these people always this vulnerable? Seemed like a lot to be emotionally dumping on a site made for this kind of thing. He was in the ameature tag though. “Well, I got this to q we get to know myself a bit better. I feel like I need to do better with exploring my wants and it doesn't hurt to make money on the side! Right? Allah knows I can use it.” He trailed off, looking distant and Sang-woo tilted his head. “Alright, um… that’s it I think! Hope you enjoy my content! خدا حافظ.”

The video ended and Sang-woo watched as the video recommended some of his other videos and Sang-woo’s eyes widened. He looked so innocent. And yet he was staring at two video one labeled:

My Biggest Fan Makes Me Cry 🤭🥵😭

And

Afternoon Fingering and Dildo Training 👌🏾🍆💦

These were dated pretty recently. Sang-woo stared at the two videos, now smirking. He tapped on the last one, interested in seeing the boy spread himself. He was not disappointed. He first greeted him with a smile that shouldn’t have made his chest tighten. Maybe it was the whisky. The older man shrugged it off, while turning the volume up on his phone. He seemed to have gotten popular. In his sleeveless shirt, which showed off his nice biceps, he pulled out a box. It seemed one of his fans had sent it to him. He thanked the crudly named user and began opening  the box. As he pulled out the solid candy pink colored dildo, his mouth turned upward into a wry smirk. Sang-woo licked his lips.

“Ah…This is bigger than I am used to.” He murmured, before moving his gaze to his computer, eyes reflecting the chat. He licked and smacked his lips. His hand stroked the length of the sturdy silicone toy. “I think I can do it though.” Sang-woo bought the phone closer to his face as he watched the boy kick off his boxers, revealing a beautiful ass. He made himself comfortable in his large pillow and reached over for a small bottle full of clear liquid. Then he spread his legs and Sang-woo stifled a groan, his eyes sliding from his half hard cock to his asshole. He swallowed thickly, watching the kid tease himself with his two fingers. They slowly rubbed the rim of his ass and Sang-woo saw his hole twitch from just a small bit of stimulation. His black hair scattered a little across his face and his soft smile turned heated. “Ah—!”

His finger dipped inside of himself and he saw the boy's thighs shiver. It was clear from his actions and the ease in which he took his own finger that he had done this before. Sang-woo wondered how many times he had fingered himself. He could feel his pants get slightly tighter as he took another sip of his drink, focusing how easily his finger moved in and out. The boy began to moan softly, his hips twitching. He tilted his head, seemingly reading the chat. Sang-woo looked at the chat too and it seemed people were enjoying themselves.

“Thank you — ah—DEADLIFT69 for the ₩60,000.” He added a second finger and Sang-woo saw the tiny hole shiver and milk his finger. “Ah—! That’s good!” His voice cracked slightly and Sang-woo watched his hand go to his chest and began pinching his own nipple. He began scissoring himself and Sang-woo watched closely, watching the boy expose himself fully. As his fingers worked, his eyes moved to the boy's cock which dripped pre on his belly. The boy’s eyes were glazed as he worked himself into a frenzy. He let out another cry of pleasure and realized that the chat was going crazy. He seemed to be making decent money in donations. ₩30,000 here and ₩40,000 there and he earned every bit of it. Each time it happened, he would struggle, trying to read out the username. His voice tightened as he added a third finger. Sang-woo palmed his crotch, at the boy's strong reaction to violating himself echoed in his head. He simply looked delicious, lightly covered in sweat as he threw his head back thoroughly enjoying himself.

“That’s a good boy.” Sang-woo whispered, palming himself again and enjoying the burst of pleasure rippling through his body. The boy pulled his fingers out and Sang-woo saw how his hole winked and shivered from the loss. He wondered how strongly he would react to someone holding his legs down and licking him. He wondered how his voice would sound. The young man had slumped a little bit against his pillows and adjusted himself better for the camera. He pushed his sweaty black hair out of his face, while the hand he had been fingering himself with reached for the pink dildo and the small tube of lube. He was just about to dump the lube on when he glanced over at his chat.

“Oh…” his already flushed face turned brighter and he bit his lip. Sang-woo’s eyebrows raised. “Give it a blow job? I’ve never done that before. I don’t think I would be good.” But, his chat wasn’t having it. Some of them donated and others coaxed him. When someone donated another ₩60,000 he chuckled. “Ah, you guys are… What's the saying? Thirsting?” He scratched his head now considering the toy and then pressing his lips against the head of it. “You just want to see how I do? Alright.” The boy kissed the tip and then sucked on the head. Sang-woo saw his tongue swipe underneath and he felt his own manhood throb painfully in his pants. He groaned and began fiddling with his belt and unbuttoning his trousers and releasing himself. By the time his cock was out, the boy's lips were wrapped around the toy. He hawkishly watched him bob his head up and down and loved the way his tongue licked the underside. Sang-woo began stroking himself idly, imagining those plum lips around him. When he looked at the video cam, his black locks obscuring his eyes slightly and Sang-woo nearly shot his load there. He let out a low moan, unbuttoning his white shirt and exposing his chest. The boy managed to get more than halfway of the toy in his mouth before he pulled back, trying not to gag. He wiped his mouth of saliva, still wincing. “I guess I need practice.” He smiled “Hopefully, you guys are satisfied?”

Though the toy was covered in his saliva, he applied a healthy glob of lube. He spread himself once more, his brown eyes glittering with anticipation and slowly pushed the head of the toy against his hole. He let out a soft sigh and Sang-woo watched as his entrance twitch before taking the toy, watching how the ring of muscles stretched enticingly around the pink silicone. He leaned into the pillow and he moaned shakily. He watched his hand go up to his chest once more and pinch his nipples and stroke his chest. Sang-woo could even see his balls twitching as he moved the toy deeper and deeper. When the toy was fully inside he paused for a bit, his breath ragged from pleasure.

“Aaah— t-this is a lot.” He whispered, nuzzling into the pillows and his eyes narrowed. “کیا ایسا محسوس ہوتا ہے؟” His chat was was now steadily donating ₩30000 every minute or two. Some of the chatters openly talked about how pretty his hole was and how they love to join him. The boy groaned again, his legs twitching as his hand moved the dildo slowly in and out. The sounds he was making as he thrusted the toy in and out. He seemed to be slowly unwinding himself, his eyes narrowed and his lips parted in a slight smile. Sang-woo could now see his hips rolling forward, chasing the toy as he pulled it out. He didn’t notice that his own breath was heavy and the soft moans that were escaping him. His hand had drifted toward his cock and and stroked himself leisurely as he watched the boy writhe on his bed while he pumped the pink toy in and out of him.

I’m bigger than that. He thought, watching the boy chew his lip. I wonder how he would act with me. Sang-woo’s mind immediately flashed with the boy clinging to him, moaning and desperately trying to hold on to him.

“Fuck.” His rasped, squeezing the base of his cock and his ragged breath growing more fevered. The sounds of the toy sloppily pumping in and out of the boy made his dick jump in his hand and he gritted his teeth.

“Ah—! Hmph! Ah—! I think I’m cumming.” His voice was now a whine and he fucked himself harder. He could see his body shivering and rolling desperately as he chased his orgasm. Then he threw his head back, and his toes curled as thick globs of white scattered beautifully across his warm latte skin. His hips mechanically, rocked into the toy while he gasped and clawed at the bed. Sang-woo could see his asshole eagerly milking the toy, while his dick jumped with each spurt. Then he slumped back into his pillows, a dazed, yet pleased grin on his face. His chest rising and falling rapidly as he enjoyed his orgasmic bliss.

Why is he… so adorable? Sang-woo gulped and rolled his wrist a little faster. His breath came out in short puffs. When the boy pulled the toy out and he saw the slight gape of his asshole he felt himself shiver. How he wished to shove his cock inside of him. To make this boy cling on to him while he fucked him sensless. Mark him so everyone knew that he was his. He gritted his teeth, feeling the heat inside him swirl around in his belly. He wanted to cum. He wanted to see that look on the boy’s face when he came in. That blissful smile on those full lips and know that he was the one who put him in such a state.

“Oh, wow, میرا سر گھوم رہا ہے…” His voice came out in a purr and he pushed himself, shaking his hair out of his eyes and looking at the chat. “Well, I’ll end my stream for today. Thanks again DaddyBigBear25-XX for the toy. I think I will have fun using it.” He grinned. “And thanks for all you showing up. “آپ پر سلامتی ہو اور آپ پر رحمتیں اور برکتیں نازل ہوں۔” He gave a short wave and the video shut off. Sang-woo stared at the suggestions, still stroking himself. His eyes focusing on the avatar of the boys face. Next to the picture, were the words:

🌒 M00Nstuck-199 🌘

He hadn’t expected this to be this worked up, but…He gulped and started another video.

—————

Sang-woo was not really a horny man. He had his phone of people to call when the itch called to him, but normally he wasn’t interested. He liked his work, trading and buying. He found that more of a thrill and a challenge. His recent gamble, putting his mother’s house on the line plus a large loan, had paid off even though he shouldn’t have. It would have ruined him if the future he bet on hadn’t been successful and the adrenaline from that bet had been addicting. When the payment came through into his bank account, the reward almost made him moan out loud. This was what he lived for. The rush of being right...

This was before he met M00Nstruck-199. The boy was intoxicating and addicting to watch. He found himself memorizing when he was live after watching all his videos. The first time he had managed to make it to a live stream, was after work on a Wednesday where he opened gifts that his fans gave him. He only used the chat a few times as he ate his dinner. Moon, that’s what most of the chat referred to him as, decided to use a cock ring for the stream. Even though Sang-woo thought the thing looked tacky. What was with the fan that loved bright pink? Despite the color of the toy, he did enjoy the show. Sang-woo watched, mouth slightly open as he made himself climax without cumming over and over again until he was a sobbing mess. The stream ended with him fingering his ass while jacking off then shooting his load onto the camera. Unfortunately for Sang-woo, the calm, satisfied state he loved watching the boy enter was interrupted when he realized that there was cum dripping off the camera. He swore… or at least Sang-woo thought it might be a swear. He spoke in a different language. He apologized to his chat, waved and had ended the stream there.

About a month into his subscription, he was lounging on his L couch, watching him answer a couple of questions about his life on a Friday night. It had been an impromptu stream. He had posted that he needed to chat. He didn’t have a huge following but it was decent sized. At this surprise stream, there were about fifty people watching, something Sang-woo appreciated. Too many chatters was a headache.

“It’s been crazy.” He sighed, resting on his stomach, while looking into his cam. He buried his head in his pillow. “I quit my job… they weren’t paying me anyway. Still, things are… uncertain now.” Many of the chatters began spamming, don’t work, but he shook his head. “I need to make sure I have a stable income. Some healthcare. Stuff like that. I just need to not think about this right now. So… do you have any questions? Requests?” Immediately, the chat let up. He answered questions in his soft voice. “I used to work in a factory, Odd1. I would make parts I believe for machines. The man working there refused to pay me because… well I guess he could get away with it.” He sighed. Sang-woo stretched on his couch, looking up at the ceiling, then began typing.

“Ah, I’m thirty-three, 218Futures.” Sang-woo shouldn’t have gotten a little bit of the dopamine from him answering. He throught for a moment, shrugged and quickly typed a donation.

Hope this helps…

The little dopamine hit that he got from the boy responding to him, pailed in comparison to the rush he got from his shock on his face when he got the donation.

“T—thank you 218Futures for the ₩120000.” He stammered. He loved the way his eyes got as wide as dinner plates. “You didn’t have to though, I was just answering your question.”

It’s no problem.

By this time, others in the chat began to clamber for his attention and the donations started piling in. He watched the kid’s eyes become glassy.

“Oh… wow. Thanks guys…” He smiled. “I suppose I should do something then? I wasn’t planning on it. But I guess you all have convinced me I should.” Now the chat was getting rowdy. Sang-woo rolled his eyes at some of the responses.

Can I request personal time from you?

Predictably, the chat became angry at him. Calling him selfish and other words. The boy tilted his head however.

“Like a private chat, 219Futures? I think I posted the price of private chats. I dunno if I’m gonna do one today though. I guess it depends.”

I see.

He donated again and relished the soft gasp that left the boy's lips. He had donated ₩600000. The chat had become feral as expected.

Dude, wtf r u doing?

Stop being a selfish dick!

Why do you get request time alone?😒

Why is that fare???😤😡

You’re welcome to donate more than me...

He is also welcome to decline.

I wanna see ur bussy, Moon 😩 Plz stay.

He watched as Moon chewed on his lip, watching the chat argue back and forth. He must be feeling a little overwhelmed. Especially since today was supposed to be one of his more relaxed streaming times.

I don’t want to impose.

You don’t have to if you don’t feel up to it…

Keep the money though.

“Well…” The boy said. He seemed to be reading something as he spoke. “218Futures, your one of my new fans. You haven’t been subscribed for more than a month. Where did you find me?”

One of your ads on a forum. I can’t remember which.

“Ah… Good to know.” He thought for a moment. “Alright, Mr.Futures. I’ll do a private chat for you.” Sang-woo smirked while the chat let out it’s frustration. Moon smiled. “Forgive me but he did pay for my time. This stream was also unscheduled...but don’t worry,  I will be back tomorrow. I’ll be opening gifts from you all.” He dipped his head in an apologetic bow. “I’m sorry! And thank you all for coming last minute! آپ پر سلامتی ہو اور آپ پر رحمتیں اور برکتیں نازل ہوں۔” The stream closed and Sang-woo sneered at some of the last comments cursing him and closed out. Then his phone pinged softly, and a notification told him he had a message. He clicked the notification and Moon’s message came up.

Hello Futures :3

A warm feeling filled his chest and he sighed. He even typed cute. He quickly typed a response.

Hello.

I’m gonna go get sum water

and then we can start. :o

Is that okay? :3

Of course.

Sang-woo could feel his heart beating. He took off glasses and slid off his business suit, hanging it up in his room. He decided to pour a healthy glass of whisky and placed it delicately on the coaster on his night stand. He decided to stay in his bedroom and sat on his bed. When he looked at his phone he had another message.

I’m ready, Sir, but I have a question. :o

Yes?

It’s a little hard to talk to you like this. :\

Would you mind doing voice chat? :3

Hmm.

Sang-woo wasn’t sure. He didn’t really plan to talk to him really… but what harm could it do? He wasn’t seeing him after all. He also was correct. It would be difficult and slower for him to respond through messaging.

That would be fine…

Thank you, Sir :3

Almost immediately, his phone started ringing and Sang-woo furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn’t sure how exactly to accept a call on this site. He went into the messages and fiddled around and finally the stream popped up with Moon looking at the video cam. He was already wearing less than he was in, in the previous stream. He was displaying those wonderful biceps again in a simple white sleeveless and something that looked like black and red basketball shorts.

“Hello! I don’t do many of these. I have only done a couple. So, forgive me for any mistakes.” He bowed slightly, then straightened up and leaned against his pillows. Sang-woo stared at his phone screen for a moment. He always hated talking on the phone. He always was way more comfortable in person. That being said, to talk to such a cute kid…

“That’s fine. This is the first one I have done. I’m inexperienced as well.” The boy's smile widened and he thought he saw his cheeks redden.

“Well, Sir, ₩600000? That’s quite generous of you.” He shifted again his pillow, leaning toward the camera. “I was curious why you donated so much.”

“You said that you quit your job. I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t worry too much.” Sang-woo smirked, casually taking a gulp of whisky. “Plus, you are cute.” He added, starting to feel the whisky take effect. The boy looked away from the camera, still grinning.

“Well thank you.” He said. “I really appreciate the donation.” There was a small silence where he turned to the cam, running his hands through his hair. “May I ask, what do you do, Sir?”

“Ah.. I’m a stock broker.” He saw the slightly confused frown on his face. Sang-woo continued. “I work with the Korean and American Stock Exchange.”

“Oh…”

“Do you know what the stock exchange is?” The boy shook his head slightly. Sang-woo then went into the minutia of stocks, futures and trading. Just giving him hints of accounts he manages while he sipped on whisky. The boy blinked at the screen and before he went into financing, he paused. He looked like a confused puppy. His head was slightly tilted and his eyes, while focused, were wide. He could tell he was trying to make sense of what he said. Maybe he had gone too descriptive. “Sorry… I tend to get over enthusiastic about work.”

“You like what you do?”

“It’s very thrilling for me to make a call on a stock and a company's future and be proven right. Even more gratifying when the reward is a decent amount of money.” He said rather smuggly.

“Ah, I understand your name then.”

“Hm?”

“Futures. That’s where it comes from, right?”

“Kind of. Future contracts are a type of investment. I named myself after that I guess. They are the most fun for me to invest in… but they are risky.” He adjusted himself on the bed. “So, where does yours come from?” The boy chuckled.

“Hm… it’s not as cool as yours I’m afraid, Sir.” He said. “I just really enjoy looking at the moon back in my home country and decided to call myself that because I usually stream at night, when I am not working.”

“Where are you from?”

“Oh, I’m from Pakistan.”

“Ah, so you speak Urdu.” Ali smiled widely.

“Wow! I’m surprised you knew.” He said pleasantly. He wrapped his arm around a thick pillow and leaned on it, sprawling now on his bed. Sang-woo’s eyes quickly slid down his body, stopping and lingering at his stomach and the tail of hair disappearing underneath his shorts. “Yes, I am fluent in Urdu and I hope to get better in Korean. I’ll probably be living here for now on... so I have to get better.”

“Hm… well you’re Korean is good. Keep at it.” He downed the last of his whisky, and poured another glass. “What made someone like you do this?”

“What do you mean?” Maybe it was the alcohol in his blood, but he chuckled.

“Well.” He drawled. “One of my first videos of yours was you introducing yourself. You said you were trying to figure yourself out. You were very honest in that video.” Sang-woo took a very deliberate sip of his whisky and the ice in glass gently clinked together. The boy blushed slightly, pushing his face into his pillow.

“Yeah…”

“The next video, I saw you fucking yourself.” A coy smirk spread slowly across the boy’s face. Sang-woo continued. “You said you hadn’t been fucked by something ‘that big’ if I recall.”

“Yeah. It’s my biggest toy.”

“Interesting… well. You don’t seem like the type of person to do this type of thing, at least in the open… What is making you want to explore yourself publicly?” The boy was quiet for a moment, still smirking. He shrugged.

“Maybe, Sir, there is more to me than my appearance.” He murmured.

“I see.” Sang-woo chuckled, feeling heat slowly build in his belly. “You must enjoy strangers watching you.” Moon didn’t reply. He simply tilted his head into his pillow, gazing at the camera.

“Did you like that video?”

“Yes, I liked seeing and hearing you enjoy yourself like that.” Sang-woo's voice had gotten lower, husky. He licked his lips. The whisky was making his blood hot. “You have a nice voice.”

“So do you, Sir.” He pushed himself up now, watching the screen with hooded eyes. “Now, Sir, what would you like me to do for you?” Sang-woo swallowed his eyes lowering to his loose shorts. He was treated to the wonderful sight of the boy’s cock peeking out from his basketball shorts, against his leg. He was already half hard. He took a gulp of his whisky, sat it down on his nightstand and cleared his throat.

“Undress.” His voice came out in a low growl and Moon bit his lip. He pulled off his t-shirt and dropped it to the floor then slid off his shorts. His cock now free from his shorts, now leaned against his leg. “Spread yourself.” Moon gazed up at the camera, grabbing the pillow he was using before and placing it behind his back, leaned back and he spread his legs, completely exposing his balls and dick to Sang-woo. He pushed his glasses up, eyeing him closely as the boy leaned back and spread his ass cheeks apart, revealing his tiny pucker. The older man licked his lips, leaning closer to his phone. If he was there he would lick him out. The boy looked delicious. Pity . “Finger yourself.”

Moon reached over out of camera and when he came back he had a small clear bottle in hand. He poured a thick glob of lube in his and pushed his two fingers against himself. He took the two fingers easily, his asshole twitching as it accepted them. The boy let out a heated sigh and unabashedly began rolling his knuckles in and out of himself with soft squelches. His breath was already heady and Sang-woo did not miss the way his hips ground against his fingers. Sang-woo dipped his hand into his pants and pulled out his manhood, stroking himself slowly.

“You're already able to take two?” Sangwoo breathed. The boy groaned in response and he could see him speeding his fingers up. “Make sure you stretch yourself. Let me see everything.”

“Y—yes Sir.” He did what he was told, his mouth hung open as he pleasured himself. Sang-woo could see a delightful ring of pink as he spread himself. His voice suddenly hitched and Sang-woo saw his cock jump. “Ah—! Ha— ngh.” The boy began vigorously fingering himself, his voice coming out in short pants.

“Don’t cum yet.” Moon looked at the screen through his bangs biting his lip. Sangwoo almost shot his load from that look alone. “I want you to fuck yourself with that toy.”

“Ah— t—the pink one you liked?”

“Yes.” The boy sat up a bit and again left the scene with his ass only shot. Then he plopped back down smiling at the pink dildo. He pressed it to his hole and pushed it in. Again it seemed to go in without much resistance, quickly being gobbled up. Sang-woo began to stroke himself faster and a moan escaped him. “Fuck yourself as hard as you can.”  The boy grinned and bit his lip, staring at him through his scattered bangs.

“Is that what you want to do to me, Sir?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He didn’t need one. Both he and Sang-woo knew the answer. The boy thrusted the toy deep inside of him and reacted strongly to his action. His back arched as he plunged the toy inside him. Sang-woo let out a longing moan, watching his hole clench and twitch around the silicon. His own dick, now weeping, throbbed in his hand. His voice hitched and his hand sped up. Moon’s voice swelled and he quickly covered his mouth.

“Did you find your spot?” He barely responded. Instead he mewled loudly like he was in heat and rolled his hips faster. The sounds of the toy slipping in and out of him as his toes curled as he milked himself. He must be so sensitive. He watched the boy throw his head back and his asshole seemed to clamp down on the toy. Sang-woo clenched his jaw, feeling the heat pool in his belly.

“Ah—! ہاں ,ایسے!” The boy’s voice came in a breathless cry and watched his ass cheeks tremble and his dick jump as he messily came on his chest. He continued to wind his hips into the pink cock. Sang-woo’s felt his stomach tighten, while he focused on the delicious way the boy’s hole almost sucking on the silicone. How wonderful would that feel to have him twitching on his cock like. As the throught crossed his mind, it went blank

“F—fuck.” His voice was tight and he felt his cock began to throb as he shot his own load upwards. His vision shook while his hips slowly rolled into his cum covered hand.  “Hng!” His body shivered as he finished. He gazed at Moon through hooded eyes while the boy panted against his pillow, eyes gazing at the video.

“Sir, did you cum?” His soft voice made Sang-woo grunt, as he finished stroking his cock and reached over for some tissues.

“How could I not?” He finally said, “You look as good as ever.” The boy chuckled, still enjoying the aftershock of his own orgasms.

“Good, hopefully it was worth the price.”

“Of course it was.” As he caught his breath, he sat up in his bed. “I will continue to help you learn about yourself in the future.” Ali giggled.

“I can’t wait.”

———————

Since the night he had bought a private show from Moon he was taking every opportunity to get a private call every week. It would begin with a pleasant chat. Sang-woo would ask him about his day and how he was doing and he was always rewarded with a warm smile. They would sometimes chat about life for about an hour or two before their conversation slowly devolved into the boy sprawled on the bed, displaying his ass for Sang-woo to see.

Sang-woo had quickly become his biggest doner. With the ₩600000 every week, plus the monthly subscription and the donations he gave him with his normal streams, he was spending a decent amount of money on this boy. Yet he had no problem with it. After all he had no significant other and had no desire to look for one. He was too busy with work for that. He was honestly thankful he had found the boy because the last couple of months at work were crazy and he found himself working late on accounts. It was always nice after work to relax and turn on a stream of Moon’s who had now added gaming to his streams, which he would do nearly naked.

By month three of his subscription he was sending expensive toys to his PO Box and his ego would always swell because every time he did send his toy, it would be chosen for that stream to be played with. His toys, after all, looked classy. On month four, the boy sent out an announcement.

“Hello everyone.” Moon was wearing a very loose shirt that hung off his shoulder, exposing his collarbone. His hair was messy, as always, and it seemed that he had some type of booty shorts on as they hugged his thighs nicely. Sang-woo watched this on his smoke break at work as it was unlikely to be one of his explicit videos. “I hope everyone is having a good day. I just wanted to update you all.” He clapped his hands together. “I got a part time job! With benefits!” Sang-woo sighed out smoke. Yes, Moon had told him he had an interview the last session they had. That would naturally mean less time to stream. Still, it was good that the boy wouldn’t have to worry too much about his living situation. “That means my schedule may change around. I’ll try to post my schedule stream times more often so there won’t be as much confusion. I hope you guys won’t mind. My work starts tomorrow. So, I won’t have a long stream tonight. But don’t worry we will make the most out of the time.” He grinned, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Hopefully, I’ll see you tonight!” The video ended and Sang-woo finished the last of his cigarette and put it out against a nearby ashtray. The comments in the video were either congratulating or begging him to quit so he could stream more. He responded simply.

Congrats :)

The next day was a rather distracting one, before he could even get to work, he got emails from clients, two extremely tedious ones that would take some time to address and one from his boss, informing him of a meeting they were going to have that morning. He let out an aggrieved sigh, the urge to smoke gnawing at the back of his head. He hated the meetings as they often took long because his boss loved to hear himself talk. It was also guaranteed to be something boring. He looked at his watch as the train he was on stopped and exited the train car, suitcase in hand. He approached the building he was working in a matter of minutes. It was a beautiful glass and metal building, fifteen stories tall. He was on the tenth floor. He began planning out his day mentally. First I’ll make some coffee so I can think clearly and I should have time to look over some paperwork for Mr.Yoon. I need to get that out of the way so I can not fall asleep through this damn meeting. He yawned, nodded to security who gave him a short wave as he signed in someone and pressed the elevator button. The elevator might have take three minutes to get down while Sang-woo tapped his foot impatiently. It opened and he walked in and pressed the button ten. The doors began to close but then he heard a voice call out to him.

“Excuse me! Please hold the door!”

Shit. He briefly glanced at his watch, before grabbing the closing doors. The doors stopped and began to open again and he heard a relieved sigh before a short boy came inside.

“Thank you, Sir!” He was greeted with a warm smile, before he leaned over to press the button fifteen. He was a lot shorter… only up to his chest. He turned around to stand next to Sang-woo, humming softly while he checked his phone. Sang-woo stared for a moment, his mind froze.

Small world…

“Ah… are you new here?” The boy looked up at him, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“Oh…” He said hesitantly. “Why?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”  Sang-woo said easily. “I just haven’t seen you around here.” The boy tilted his head.

“Yeah, uh, Sir… I got a new job here.” He said this rather sheepishly, but he could see his trademark gentle smile.

“Well, congradulations.”

“Thank you!” The boy turned to him, pushing black hair out of his face. He did not miss the way his bright brown eyes darted up and down. Sang-woo pretended not to notice, turning his eyes back to the door of the elevator and swaying the upward movement. “I’m excited to start.”

“What will you do?”

“Oh, nothing too complicated. I will be helping keep the building clean.” He shrugged.

“Ah. I hope you do well.” There was a small silence in which the door opened on floor five when no one was there.  As the door slowly closed, his voice piped up again. “What do you do here?”

“Oh…” Sang-woo thought for a moment, glancing at the florectent lights on above them. “I work at a financial firm here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I deal in trade of stocks and futures.” He glanced down just in time to see the boy’s eyes light up in recognition.

“Hm… I know of someone who does that. Is it hard?”

“It can be stressful.” He let out a low sigh, with a small smile. “But I find it rewarding enough.”

“He says he enjoys the work as well. He was trying to explain things to me...but I think it’s way past my understanding, unfortunately.”

“I’m sure you could learn if someone taught you.” Sang-woo said evenly, but the boy shook his head.

“I don’t think so.” He rubbed his head, biting his tongue as he smiled at him with a goofy grin. “Numbers and I do not do well.” The elevator by this time pinged softly and the door opened on level ten. Sang-woo turned to smile at the boy who was still grinning at him.

“Have a great day, then.”

“Yes, you too!” Sang-woo stepped out of the elevator turning his back on the boy, walking toward his office.

“It was very nice meeting you, Moon.”

He felt a terrible yank on his suit and turned around to see a hand gripping it. His eyes moved slowly to the boyish face now looking grave. His messy hair almost seemed to raise like an anxious dog. He glared at Sang-woo as the elevator closed.

“Excuse me, Sir, what did you call me?”

--------

END NOTES:

Hope you enjoyed it, will post next chapter hopefully soon XD.

?Does it feel like this : "کیا ایسا محسوس ہوتا ہے؟" ...My head is spinning : “, میرا سر گھوم رہا ہے…" “آپ پر سلامتی ہو اور آپ پر رحمتیں اور برکتیں نازل ہوں” : Peace be upon you and blessing be upon you.

#sali #aliwoo #squid game #cho sang woo #ali abdul #Cam Boy AU #Spotify

[rogue-durin-16]

FIREWORKS AND STREAMERS

Request: I have been insecure about my curly hair lately and was wondering if you can you write something with one of the weasley twins where the reader is insecure about her curly hair and one of the twins makes her feel better.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Hufflepuff!Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags:

Requested by: @wildcat1434

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: none

A/N: So like, incoming fluff bc this idea was cute and sometimes I do be needing fluff, that's about it, enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The relationship between me and my hair had always been... Bumpy, you could say.

There were periods in which I would find it quite lovely; during those times I would let my curls free, showing them off with a proud demeanor, knowing my hair was unique. Those times began to turn less and less usual since the middle of third year, though they were still there.

However, after the summer prior to my sixth year, those moments had banished; I only wished to hide my hair, and my friends ended up noticing. They told me surely there would be a spell or potion able to change my hair.

As if they had summoned it, the next day in Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall introduced us to what seemed like my salvation; Crinus Muto, an advanced spell that modified the caster's hair with no restrictions.

My best friend advised me against using it, claiming it wouldn't help my insecurity— if only, it would worsen it.

I really wanted to do as she had told me and completely dismiss the spell's existence, but two nights after I had a big mental breakdown about it, caused by the most stupid thing ever.

"Is Weasley staring at you or am I blind?" One of my friends whispered, her eyes trained on the Gryffindor table.

I didn't even bother to look up, not wanting to know whether it was true or not, before responding with a quiet "You're blind."

"I mean, it's hard to tell with two rows of students between us but," She nudged me, urging me to avert my gaze from my dinner and redirect it to Fred. "it kinda looks like he's... staring."

Curiosity killed the cat, I guess. My eyes finally left my plate and were, in fact, met with Fred's brown ones. As soon as they met, though, he looked away, pretending to be focused on his food, just like I had been doing seconds ago.

"Of course he's staring." Hannah Abbot, who sat right in front of my friend, commented with her mouth full. "Have you seen your hair?" She swallowed her food, looking me up and down before adding, "No offense, but it's an absolute mess." My eyes opened widely in shock at her bluntness. "You should take care of it, really."

"Has someone ever told you you're an ill-mannered bitch, Hannah?" I heard my friend talking back at the younger girl while I got up and started to make my way out of the Great Hall.

Of course, I didn't see Fred shooting up and attempting to go after me; ultimately he decided to stay in his place, since he saw my friend walking out too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was very aware of all the pair of eyes that had been laid on me the very moment I entered the greenhouse where we would be doing the Herbology tasks.

When I had met my friends at the Hufflepuff common room that morning, I had received divided opinions about my straight hair. At first I had been very convinced that it looked way better than my curly hair, but seeing my friends' reaction, I wasn't that confident about it anymore.

I didn't have time to undo the spell before class, so I decided to go along with it and see how the day unfolded.

I took a deep breath, my eyes trained on the ground as I made my way to an empty seat; maybe there weren't that many people staring, maybe it was just my anxiety.

I finally gathered the courage and looked up, nervously scanning the glasshouse so I could shake off my fears.

There was only a couple of my peers staring, which would have put me at ease, if one of them wasn't Fred Weasley.

On top of it, of course, he wasn't even trying to be subtle, it was almost as if he wanted me to notice his judging eyes; I could feel his gaze on me for the entire class.

The instant Professor Sprout dismissed us, I shoved everything in my bag and left the greenhouse, thanking a couple of Gryffindors who complimented my hair on my way out.

Again, I didn't notice Fred leaving the class as soon as he could to run after me.

I threw my bag against a tree near the lake shore and, as I fell against it, I heard someone jogging in my direction.

"In a hurry to sit by the lake, Y/l/n?" I followed the tall ginger with my eyes while he circled me and sat down by me. "You alright?"

"I just needed a break from... People." I vaguely explained, focusing on the water instead of on the boy besides me.

"Understandable." He hesitated for a second before adding, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No, it's fine." I surprised myself at how calmed and collected I sounded, as if I wasn't chatting with my crush.

"What happened to your hair?" His genuinely curious inquiry took me aback, and I struggled to find something to answer.

"Why?" My heartbeat picked up, anxiety inundating me once more. "You don't like it?"

"It looks weird." Fred looked at me up and down with a grimace. "You don't... Look like yourself." I was about to enter fight or flight mode, but he seemed to notice, and panic made its way to his face. "But it doesn't matter what I think," he was quick to add, his eyes wide open as if he knew he had said something he should have not. "I mean— I think it shouldn't matter, if you like it, that's great— I mean, you don't need my opinion about that either!"

"Calm down, I understand." I tried to reassure him, before his rambling drove the both of us crazy. "Can I tell you a secret?" He nodded with pursed lips, surely afraid he would fuck up if he spoke again. "I've been very insecure about my hair lately— like, very." I sighed. "My best friend told me not to straighten it, but last night I got a not so nice comment and—"

"So that's why you left?" I nodded, tugging my sleeves. Fred went silent for a moment, and then cleared his throat and scooted closer to me. "I know this won't do much, but I really love your hair. Kinda reminds me of fireworks and streamers." He gestured around his own head, mimicking the fireworks' movement. "Dunno I think is fun and pretty awesome." I raised my brows at him in surprise. "Like you."

"Aw, that's very sweet." He offered me a sheepish smile as I felt my cheeks blushing. "It does a lot, actually." I confessed, fidgeting with my rings. "I guess I kinda needed to hear something positive about my hair."

"Well, whenever you need to hear something positive about your hair," he pointed at himself. "I'm your man." He winked at me and I let out a chuckle. "I can also tell you positive things about you in general, but that has a price."

"And what is it?"

"You'll have to let me buy you a drink at The Three Broomsticks this Saturday." I tried not to let panic slip through my recently eased demeanor; was he asking me on a date? "And give me a kiss after." He wiggled his brows at me and my face turned red. "the kiss is negotiable."

I casted my gaze down, fixing it on my shoes, not sure of what I was supposed to say at that. His foot tapping mine snapped me out of my thoughts.

"So?" My eyes traveled to him once more, only to find his studying me already. "What do you say, Y/l/n?"

"Well," I shrugged, trying in vain to play nonchalant. "Seems like an affordable price, so it's fine by me."

"I'll pick you up after lunch, yeah?" Before I could agree, he gasped, his eyes going wide. "I'm a genius."

"Come again?" I frowned, confused as his sudden frantic behavior.

"Don't mind me, love." He jumped up and jogged towards the castle, leaving me puzzled in there. I was about to grab a book from my bag when Fred rushed back, crouched down and pecked my cheek. "Your hair's amazing." He assured me. "See you!" My fingertips graced my now flushed cheek as he headed off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was finishing my lunch when two towering redheads entered the Hall running; while George, slowed down, Fred made a beeline to the Hufflepuff table, his casual clothes already on.

"Ready?" He asked breathless.

"Yeah— you didn't have lunch, did you?" I pointed out, getting up to stand in front of him.

"No, but I'll eat something later—" his eyes roamed over my carefully picked outfit before stating, "You look... very pretty."

"Why, thank you." I offered him a smile and looked over my shoulder at the Gryffindor table, where his friends were very attentive to all we did. "You sure you don't wanna eat something?"

"Hundred percent." He tilted his head towards the gates. "shall we?" He prompted to walk before him, and it was then that I realized he had his hands behind his back. Once we were out in the yard, he tugged my hand and made me turn to him. "I made something for you."

"You didn't have to." Was the first thing that came to my mind when I heard his words. Then the wording dawned on me; he didn't get me something, he made me something. "What is it?"

"So, you know that I told you your hair reminded me of fireworks and streamers?" I nodded, not quite knowing where he was going with that. "Well—" he then showed me what his back was hiding; a delicate, tiny firecracker with my name written on the side. "George helped me so I could finish it on time."

"I'm—" at my loss of words, I could only let out a happy laugh. "This is so cute— am I supposed to ignite it?"

"Duh!" I gently pushed his shoulder in response to his teasing. "Do you know how to do it?"

"I've seen you do it plenty of times." I admitted, grabbing the firecracker with one hand and my wand with the other; it looked so pretty, it was a pity I'd have to ruin it.

With a brief firemaking spell, the firecracker set off. Fred pulled me back slightly before it happened, though.

I was in awe at the beautiful fireworks before us, which looked like a color-changing, expanding version of my hair.

When the colors died out, I turned to Fred, whose attention was already on me, awaiting for a reaction. Surely, he was not expecting the kiss he got, but he didn't complain either; while my hands rested on his chest, his traveled to cup my cheeks before I could pull away.

"So you liked it?" He questioned quietly against my lips.

"I loved it." I whispered back with a wide smile. "You're a sweetheart." I pecked his lips before retreating. Holding his hand in mines, I made my way back into the castle. "We're not leaving until you have lunch."

"You are a sweetheart." He responded, following my lead without offering resistance. "By the way, your hair looks gorgeous." The corners of my lips twisted into a bigger smile at the sweet words he spoke only for me to hear as we went back into the Great Hall.

Maybe my hair wasn't that bad after all.

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x gender neutral reader #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fanfiction #fred lives au #fred x y/n #fred x you #fred x reader #fred x hufflepuff reader #gryffindor x hufflepuff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #fred weasley masterlist #fred weasley aesthetic

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain (6)

Chapter Six- Growing Pains

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Arriving in Latvia, you find your group closing into Karli’s group. You found yourself unexpectedly in upsetting exchanges with Bucky, making you take two steps back from the progress you two had since Madripoor.

Warnings: Angst as I like it! Bucky being a dense block of wood.

Word count: 4k

Notes: It’s insane the number of followers I have gained after starting this series. I am very humbled to know that you guys take interest in my work! Appreciate all the likes and reblogs! 🙏🏼

Hope y’all would enjoy this chapter! Things cannot be forever smooth sailing and we see a roadblock to Bucky and reader’s progress. I would love to know your feedback on the story so leave a comment if you can! 🥰

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

Next: Chapter Seven

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Six years ago

The embers from the fire glowed warmly in front of you, a finger daringly reached out to touch the flames. The energy flames emitted from the tip of your finger and blended into the fire.

Turning your head back to Bucky and Ayo, you saw how Bucky was anxious and had a doubtful expression on his face. It had been a week since the programming has been removed from his system.

While he was still reassured that the worst was over, he had a lot of reservations. Having you by his side was the only source of comfort that he could through these hard times.

“I won’t let you hurt anyone,” Ayo spoke to relieved Bucky of his concerns. You flashed an encouraging smile back to him and Bucky nodded at Ayo for her to start.

As Ayo started saying the code words, you could see Bucky’s entire body tensing up as if he wanted to resist the possibility of being turned. Holding in your breath at the entire situation, you clasped your hands together in prayer, wishing that things would turn out well.

Every time each word was said, it built up hope and anxiety at the same time. You could see the dread, regret and guilt all from his eyes alone as Bucky stared intensely at the burning fire. It seemed his mind was heavy on a lot of memories and recollections that seemed to eat him away.

You wanted to take a step forward but Ayo shook her head, silently asking you to stay put.

As the number of codewords was closing into zero, your anticipation grew at how Bucky was doing well. However, your heart started breaking when you saw the tears welling up in his eyes.

Once the last code word was spoken, Bucky was sobbing. Seeing this sight, your own tears started to fall down your cheeks as you brought your clasped hands over your heart.

“You are free,” Ayo stated with a pleased smile and she looked over to you to give you a nod. Grinning a full wide smile at her, you looked down to Bucky shaking by the fire. You wondered what was wrong until he removed his clenched fist from his face. It was when he turned to face you that you both mirrored the full-blown smiles on your faces.

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Stretching your limbs on the plush couch, your eyes closed wearily from the flight to Latvia. You still couldn’t process the entire series of events that had happened in the past 72 hours and your mind was mentally drained.

Hearing the door open, you lifted your head to finally see Bucky joining everyone in Zemo’s fancy place. Bucky’s eyes turned to yours and the two of you stared at each other silently for what felt like an eternity.

You first broke the stare by blinking and bit your lips in nervousness. Your mind immediately went back to what happened in Sharon’s club and you turned your back to avoid looking at him for the time being.

Bucky was thinking of the same thing and tried his best to maintain a cool façade. Seeing how you turned your back on the sofa, he felt it was best to move on to business with the others first.

“Well, the Wakandans are here. They want Zemo.” Bucky spoke to Sam before looking at an unbothered Zemo who was fresh out of the shower in his robes.

Bucky’s words managed to get you to turn back and sit up at attention.

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least.” You see Zemo looking grateful at Bucky but the super-soldier just rolled his eyes.

“Hey, you shut it. No one’s defending you.” Sam shut Zemo down as he couldn’t believe how thick-skinned the Sokovian man was. “You killed Nagel.”

Zemo tried to defend his stance while Sam definitely wasn’t buying it. You couldn’t say it out loud lest you get a look from Sam but you were glad Zemo did it. Who knows if there would be a day where you would be handed off to Nagel and he got his hands on you to do whatever he wanted?

You shuddered at the thought and as if Zemo knew what was on your mind, you see the Baron turning back to give you a wink and mouthing a ‘welcome’. Your nose scrunched in distaste, not wanting to give the man the satisfaction of him being right.

“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot,” Bucky spoke up again after looking up from his phone. Sam asked for the amount of damage to which Bucky answered that eleven were injured and three were dead.

This was getting serious. Especially when you heard Bucky saying that the Flag Smashers were promising more attacks if their demands were not met. You suddenly felt a renewed sense of responsibility and purpose to help the world once more after the last battle.

Even though you were tired of fighting, you knew that bearing the powers that you had gave you the responsibility to take action for the greater good.

Zemo then remarked that he had the will to follow through with this mission but questioned you and your friends.

“She’s just a kid,” Sam emphasized, showing his empathetic and kind heart who chose to see the good in others first. It reminded you so much of Steve and you smiled at the resemblance.

Zemo didn’t agree with Sam’s opinion and explained how Karli was a supremacist. The very idea of super-soldiers was troubling, how they viewed themselves as invincible and above others. Zemo compared it to the Nazi ideology, how it led to Ultron and the Avengers.

His last point rubbed you the wrong way because you knew your friends were never focused on themselves but rather dedicated time, effort and their lives for the world.

Sam understood that Karli had indeed been radicalised but still argued for a better way to manage the situation, one that he hoped would be peaceful and led to lesser bloodshed.

“I agree with Sam.” You spoke up for the first time. All three men focused on you as you lifted yourself from the sofa and walked towards them. “She’s not doing this for power or money, she’s doing this to help her community and the vulnerable. The least we could do is to try to talk to her first.”

Zemo tilted his head with an annoyed look, seeing how you backed Sam up in this debate.

“Y/N. The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She would not stop, in fact, she will escalate unless you kill her.”

You knew that there were part truths in Zemo’s words. You kept quiet and he looked at you pleased that he probably has gotten through you in some sense.

“Or you can kill her first.” With this, Zemo stared straight at you as if he decided to give you this responsibility, knowing that you were the likeliest to overpower Karli when the time comes.

“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve.” Speaking from behind you, Bucky refuted Zemo’s claims but Zemo seemed unaffected. He even added on that there was no other Steve Rogers. Who were you guys to presume not everyone could get corrupted once they had a taste of power?

Having enough of Zemo, Bucky suggested handing Zemo over to the Wakandans right at this moment and you wanted to agree. You were indebted to them and with their late king’s murderer right in front of you, a sense of guilt washed over you as you must have realized how livid they must be that he was walking free.

Sam then explained how Donya was an influential member of the community and related it to his own story of his TT aka his aunt. When someone who was a pillar in a close-knitted community had passed, people would gather to hold a long ceremony in memory of that person. He presumed that the same would be done for Donya and that’s where you all should lead with.

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The four of you decided to venture to the streets to ask for information on Donya. As Zemo and Sam went their own ways, Bucky looked over you as if to ask if you wanted to join him.

“Uh, I-uh-I” You started stuttering without realising. Bucky knitted his brows in confusion at your sudden display and he immediately thought of your almost moment. Did you not want it? Did he overstep?

Inwardly groaning, he couldn’t believe he did something so stupid in the heat of the moment. Deciding to do something about it, he spoke up.

“Hey. About earlier-” Glancing up at Bucky, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to find the words to say.

“Earlier?” You weren’t sure what he was referring to and returned a quizzical look. Taking a deep breath before exhaling, Bucky tried to continue the conversation.

“I mean back in Madripoor. You know that uh-” Your eyes widened realised at the particular event that he chose to bring up. Your heart quickened at how he was choosing to address it now and you stared at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

“It was stupid, all right? I didn’t think and it was all at the moment, I didn’t mean to went in like that-” Blinking your eyes as if you couldn’t process what Bucky had just said, your heart dropped at the realisation that everything turned out to be one-sided wishful thinking of yours.

In his attempt to piece his words together and play it down, Bucky didn’t realise the disappointment painted on your face and how you stopped the tears that welled up in your eyes from falling.

You felt so stupid. There was no way that Bucky would have taken interest in you. All this time, you were nothing more than friends. You didn’t doubt that that moment in Madripoor with its atmosphere could have clouded both of your senses.

“It’s okay, Buck. I totally understand.” You spoke up to prevent him from continuing to dishearten you.

“I’m cool. We were swept up in the music and the dancing- it’s natural to uh-do that.” You were starting to choke up at your words but forced yourself to swallow down the knot in your throat.

Pulling your lips into a tight grin and forcing yourself to meet Bucky’s eyes, you saw him puzzled and expectant of your next response.

“I am going to go that way.” Mustering up a cheerful voice to make it sound like you were fine, you pointed over to a random street. “We should split up and cover more ground. Bye!” Giving a quick wave to him, you hurriedly turn your back and almost broke into a sprint to get as far away from him as possible.

Bucky knew that from your reaction he must have done something wrong. He just wasn’t sure what he did. Scolding himself for being such an idiot, he looked back to where he last saw you before you turned the corner.

Bucky’s hands and jaw both clenched with tension at how things had been with you just moments ago before allowing himself to be distracted with the mission. He made a mental note that he had to catch you later and have another talk.

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You were a woman with a purpose and that was to find out more about Donya Madani. You realised after the first few queries, people here were wary once you mentioned the woman’s name.

Cracking your brain to think of a strategy, your eyes roamed around the neighbourhood for some sort of idea. A familiar back caught your attention and your eyes widened in shock at who you had spotted.

The man back from the fight on the truck was here. That means Karli and her group were here too! You didn’t have the chance to see the man’s face as he had a mask on back then but you recognised him instantly.

He was alone and that gave you a good chance to corner him. You blended in with the crowd while closing in on him with every step. As he turned the corner to an alley, you quickened your steps in fear that you might be losing him.

Once you stepped foot into the alley, you were shocked to see there it was clear and empty. Running your fingers through your hair in a stressful moment, you wondered how he could have disappeared without a trace. Venturing further down the alley, you hoped that you might be able to catch sight of him once more.

Your body reacted a second later than your intuition when you felt someone grabbed you from behind, the hands covering your mouth to prevent you from screaming.

The person switched hands and used their strength to push you against the brick walls. Feeling the wind knocked out of your chest, you took quick hurried breaths to regain yourself and that’s when your eyes looked up to meet the dark eyes of the man that you had been following.

His eyes mirrored yours as they widened at the recognition of who you were and he then spoke. “How did you follow us? Where are the rest of your friends?”

Clawing at his hands to free your face, your hands started glowing a bright orange to get him to release you. The man was taken aback at the display of your powers and decided to make a run for it, knowing that you would have the upper hand eventually.

“No wait, please!” You cried for him to stop. The man’s steps slowed down at your plea and he turned back slightly to face you. You raised your hands up in surrender to show you meant no harm.

You willingly put your hands behind you, clasping them together and showing them to him.

“I just want to talk.” You continued saying. Sensing the man’s hesitation, you then emphasized please desperately. Taking a few steps closer, you still left a gap between the two of you.

“I am Y/N.” Hoping that introducing yourself showed that you were interested to get to know him, you looked on anxiously for his response.

“Dovich.” The man replied curtly before staring back at you. Repeating his name once more in your mouth, you showed off a friendly smile before resuming.

“I know what you must be thinking, but please I do not mean any harm.” You hoped that the sincerity in your voice would get his guard down but seeing Dovich squaring his shoulders to look more intimidating, you knew that he couldn’t trust you yet.

“Lies!” Dovich refuted your claims.

“What happened back there was self-defence!” He must have thought about how you were about to use your powers just moments ago. “Trust me, if I wanted to do any damage, I would be able to but I didn’t.”

Seeing how you were still standing there with your arms behind your back, Dovich’s stance seemed to ease up a little. “What do you want?”

“We- my friends and I want to talk to Karli.” You knew your words only served to upset him once more as his face distorted into a frown.

“We really want things to work out! We don’t ever want things to escalate, it is never in my interest to kill anyone.” Dovich glanced over you to see an earnest expression on your face and he couldn’t help but be a little swayed.

He knew who you were. You were less well-known but still regarded as part of the Avengers team. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t intimidated. He recalled how you fought his group back then and knew that given your powers, there was a chance to be bested even if he had taken the serum.

Dovich still clearly remembered how you pulled him up when he was about to fall off the moving truck from before. Your actions at that moment had changed his impression of you, regarding you in a better light. It matched what you had just said earlier, you weren’t interested to kill anyone.

“Karli wouldn’t listen. She is determined and resolute in our vision.” Dovich hoped you understood his perspective and you nodded in acknowledgement.

“I know but that doesn’t mean we don’t want to try settling this peacefully. We don’t want more lives gone than it already had.” You added on to your own perspective in the matter. Dovich believed you but he still wasn’t sure. He couldn’t be so easy to trust especially of all of the experiences that he and his group went through.

You were still considered a threat to the existence of the group.

“I don’t trust your group. Especially that Zemo guy. We know he hates super soldiers.” Dovich reiterated his mistrust before continuing. “Plus you guys are the Avengers, you wouldn’t know what it is like to be us. You get to live comfortable lives and do as you please.”

Hearing his assumption, you shook your head in disagreement. You closed your eyes and exhaled deeply before speaking.

“The Avengers aren’t really there anymore. Most of our group are gone. We are only what’s left but it doesn’t feel like there’s a team anymore.” Your mind to your current situation. Yes, you were with Sam and Bucky but they were just tolerating each other for the moment. You didn’t exactly feel like you were a team at all but just a group put together because you were all that’s left.

The sense of camaraderie from your previous team was gone and you were at a loss. You did what you had to do to support your two friends but you felt empty on the inside. You titled your head up to see Dovich peering at you with an almost concerned look on his face.

“Besides, that’s a bit of a generalisation you have there. We don’t live fancy lives, that’s a misconception because of uh-Tony. We all are still normal human beings dealing with struggles in our personal lives too. We gave up most of ourselves to defend this world….” Reeling from the exchange that you two had, you knew Dovich was someone that could be reasoned with.

“Of course, I am not trying to brag or anything!” You hurriedly explain before he had the thought that you were trying to make yourself look better in his eyes. “It’s just that I hope you could understand where we are coming from too.”

Dovich didn’t expect the conversation to progress in this manner. He had spotted you in the reflection of a glass window of a shop and initially wanted to get you off his tail. Despite the initial scepticism, he was starting to warm up to you. He figured you weren’t like the rest of your group and seemed down to earth despite being an Avenger.

He couldn’t lie to himself and claimed he thought of you several times ever since the first encounter. How can one not forget someone who stepped in to save their life once?

Dovich gazed at you now standing civilly with an awaiting look. He wanted to trust you, he really did. But he knew Karli was especially alert and distrustful of anyone outside her circle. Your affiliation wouldn’t help in this case either. He couldn’t make a promise that he can’t keep.

“I can’t promise you anything.” A grin formed on your face for the first time and you nodded your head in understanding.

“Of course, I just need a chance to talk. That’s all.” Dovich nodded back before he started walking back to the other end of the alleyway. He told you that he would speak with Karli after Donya’s ceremony and asked you to wait for his contact. He made you promise to not speak to your friends about this meeting and that he only trusted you.

You gave your agreement and maintained a friendly smile before he turned back to go onto another street.

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Walking with lighter steps, you were glad to be able to do something right. You re-entered Zemo’s place and was greeted with the men gathering around to discuss their lack of result. You had to control yourself from revealing about your meeting with Dovich and kept quiet.

You agreed with Sam’s remarks on understanding Karli’s perspective and how she and her group were not motivated by malicious intentions.

Bucky then gave his own input that Karli would not be any different from Zemo. Recalling your last exchange with him, you suddenly felt upset with the super-soldier. You didn’t agree with his words either as you believed you understood better after talking with Dovich.

“I agree with Sam on this. Karli’s group is different and we need to give them a chance.” Bucky looked at you in disbelief. This was the first time you were ever not on the same page with him. He couldn’t agree with your views of giving the Flag Smashers a chance when they were such obvious threats.

Bucky believed that your soft-hearted nature was clouding your judgement and he thought better of you given your experience of dealing with such people.

“Can’t believe you are actually siding with terrorists Y/N.” His words came out harsher than expected and his heart twisted when he saw the tinge of sadness at how you received his words. A brief moment later, he saw your brows frowning and now looked at him with an offended stare.

“Not everything is black and white, James.” You scoffed before walking off to use the bathroom.

Sam and Zemo were surprised to hear the condescending tone in your voice towards Bucky. Knowing how you and Bucky were close-knitted, witnessing the suddenly tensed exchange between the two of you would have been baffled at what just transpired.

Hearing you calling him James was clear as day to Bucky that you were definitely not happy with him. Rubbing his temples in dismay, he wondered what have gotten over you suddenly. Sure, he was at fault for saying such a harsh comment but he still didn’t expect you to be like this.

Bucky lost his cool when Zemo stated he wanted to keep his leverage by not revealing any more information he had gotten from the little girl on the streets about Donya.

“You wanna see what someone can do we leverage?” Bucky too the glass in Zemo’s hand and threw it to the wall behind the Sokovian baron. He was silently seething at Zemo’s play on top of the unpleasant exchange that he had with you.

Sam came around to calm Bucky down before he indicated that he would make a call.

You stepped back into the common room when you heard the smashing of glass. You looked to see Bucky and Zemo in an intense standoff, well more so Bucky than Zemo.

Sam walked away first. Zemo asked Bucky if he would like some cherry blossom tea but the super-soldier refuted the offer with disdain in his tone.

“Y/N?” Zemo gestured to the lovely glass tea set on the coffee table. Glancing up to meet Bucky’s eyes, you could tell he was still bearing an annoyed look on his face.

You weren’t sure if it was his emotions from his exchange with Zemo or yours. Walking up to Zemo, you gave a polite smile before speaking.

“I would love to.” It was the second time that you acted out of character in a row. He knew that you didn’t like Zemo at all, only because of what Zemo had done to him. You were his girl (well sort of) and seeing you accepting Zemo’s offer even if it was just tea hit him differently.

Hearing how you graciously accepted the glass from Zemo and commenting on the fragrance of the brew, Bucky couldn’t believe his ears. He immediately stomped away from the scene before he felt like he would implode.

This was not right at all. Why would you suddenly act like this?

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#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #marvel fanfiction #angstsfordays #beautiful pain #tfatws #thefalconandthewintersoldier #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader

[fourmarkdove]

Fawn - Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |  Part 4 |  Part 5 | Part 6 | Masterlist

Title: Fawn - Part 3

Words: 3.2k

Summary: Yennefer confirms Geralt’s suspicions and a rift is created between you and the White Wolf. Angst. Suggested smut. Fluff. Hurt/comfort.

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Warnings: Suicidal ideation, miscarriage, abortion. If you’re triggered PLEASE skip ahead. Please check out the trigger warnings (tw:) in the tags!

A/N: Don’t blame me. It was that fricking wish! I’m not happy about it, either, but it’s canon. Comments welcome. Thanks for reading as always!

Like an expectant father waiting outside the delivery room, Jaskier paced just outside the tent while Geralt sharpened his sword near the fire.

“No. Get out before I portal you away,” Yennefer demanded yet again when the bard poked his head in and asked for an update. 

“She’ll come out when she’s ready,” the burly Witcher grunted. Another plume of purple smoke rose from the tent door and static sizzled inside. Jaskier began thinking of a verse that needed to rhyme with “plume.”

Wiping her hands, she emerged and motioned at Jaskier: “Watch her. Geralt, you’re with me.”

Sauntering across the way to her own much larger, and much more richly furnished tent, Geralt followed behind like a puppy.

“Well?”

“Well? Well, I saved her life, darling,” the raven haired woman smirked, turning to face him once they reached the foot of her lavish bed. Tossing aside the cloth, she twirled a finger and a dozen candles lit around the space.

He was not impressed by simple tricks. “What happened? It wasn’t just poison, was it? It was a curse.”

“Yes, my love,” she sighed, bored with conversation, so she lifted his shirt and ran both hands up his muscular torso, making the tense fibers just under his skin twitch. “I lifted it though.”

Craning his neck low, he crushed his mouth to her plump lips. The relief and gratitude expressed in his kiss melted when feral heat took over. They were souls bound together by a wish he made years ago to save her life. As such they were drawn time and again to this exact moment.

She moaned, tugging at the ties on his breeches pressed against her stomach. Biting down on his bottom lip suddenly, she flattened her palms to his chest and pushed him back to the bed, intent on climbing him and claiming payment for a job well done.

*

“So she’ll be able to travel soon?” Geralt huffed lazily, one arm under his head on the pillow. 

“You’re really taking her back to her father?” Yennefer sighed, playing with the glistening sweat droplets along the center of his chest.

“That’s the plan.”

“Well, if you do travel with her just have her take it easy the next few days.”

“Why?” He arched an eyebrow down at the naked woman still tangled up with him under the sheets.

“Well, she’s with child, Geralt. But the child is much smaller than it should be. She probably needs to see a real healer to have it dealt with anyway - given the circumstances.”

His brow furrowed sharply and he gripped her upper arms, dragging her off of him as he sat up. “Dealt with...?”

She sighed, running the back of her fingers down the sinews of his forearm. “Mm. She told me who the father is. I just went to his wedding just last month. It's a bad idea to show your new bride your bastard child. So yes… dealt with.”

“Wedding?” he mirrored, breaking into a cold sweat. “Did you tell her this?”

Yennefer shrugged and rolled over. “I alluded to it. Hmm. You know she may not need a healer on second thought. Baby isn’t well. Body might try to reject it after this, so watch for - where are you going?”

Stepping into his breeches, he glanced over his shoulder at the raven haired woman lounging in bed still. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Why? Did you want to attend with me? The food was decent but the wine was weak. I so would have loved to have dressed you, though.”

His frustrated growl was not lost on her but she didn’t budge by the threatening sound of it. “She told me where you met. Geralt, I said I’d try to save her life but she’s your whore. I’ve done more than enough here, my love. If you leave this tent tonight, I’ll be gone by daybreak.”

He didn’t even have his pants tied before he stalked out of the tent barefoot into the dewy grass. Jaskier heard him coming from his own cot opposite yours. Finding it quite impossible to sleep anyway, he met the Witcher at the tent flap opening.

“That witch gave her something to sleep but it’s not quite doing its job,” the bard forewarned, touching Geralt’s shoulder. He held his friend back just a moment longer to catch his golden-eyed attention. “It’s not you she’s been calling for.” 

Jaskier excused himself, ducking past his friend breathing hard with his jaw clenched. Every muscle up the back of his legs and across his spine snapped into tension; the coppery scent of bloody cloths left on the table sent his senses into a frenzy the moment he stepped inside.

“N… no… n...” you moaned in your fitful sleep, writhing and grasping at the pillow under your head.

Cat eyes dilated in the near dark, his attention drew to the shadow of your body tucked under a thin blanket. In two strides, he dropped by your side and dragged the tear-soaked hair from sticking to your cheeks. 

Your head rocked back and forth on the pillow, your expression wrought with grief, one hand grasping at nothing but air until his fingers closed over it. 

He lifted his brows in the center, anguish lining his forehead. Your breathing came in hiccups, clearly crying in your nightmare.

“Wake up, little fawn,” he rumbled, pulling deep from within to sound calm so as not to frighten you. “Come on, wake up.”

“Ah…” Your legs shifted under the blanket and you inhaled deeply.

Your wet eyelashes flashed open, revealing still slightly ink-stained black tears rolling down your cheeks. “Where is he? Where’s Acheros?”

Rolling his eyes at the sound of his name, Geralt backed up into the shadow of a tent peg. “That’s a good fucking question.”

“Why did he leave me in that horrible place?” You pressed, eyes bleary from tears, pain and exhaustion.

“Hmm,” he grunted, sitting back against the other cot.

“He said he’d always come find me. ‘Nothing in all of eternity could keep us apart,’ he said.”

Another frustrated grunt as Geralt sat back. As Jaskier stoked the flames of the fire outside, the walls of the canvas tent illuminated with flicks of orange light.

You stayed silent a long time, letting the length and breadth seep into your conscious thought. Curling up on yourself, you rolled over into the tent wall and away from the brutish man sitting in silence across from you. “Is it true? Did he - get married - without me?”

“Mmm,” Geralt hummed in the affirmative, dropping his head back as the reflected orange flames danced on the ceiling. He cursed under his breath. 

There is a screech a striga makes when you deliver that final death strike straight through its heart; the sound is horrendous up close. Because of their circulation system, it takes them a moment to go, all the while realizing they’ve met their end. And then there is the soft little squeak of a rabbit as its neck is being broken. It doesn’t understand what is happening to it and doesn’t expect the end.

Neither startled cry at their moment of death is as difficult to listen to as your trembling gasp and wailing sob at the exact moment your heart broke in two.

Snarling his upper lip in disgust, he planted a fist on the ground to stand up, but stilled hearing you speak into your own hands.

“But… this is his child. And... I’m his.”

“Fuck.” Geralt replanted himself and sighed harshly, rubbing his rough thumb of one hand into the palm of another.

“What?” you shuddered, glancing over your shoulder. “But I love him...”

“You’ve said,” he husked, glancing at the exit with an arched brow and a changed mind. Waking you from that nightmare, he actually considered taking you in his arms and comforting you with all of the strength he had in him. He was not particularly given to tender moments, but if you’d have asked, even whimpered, anything at all, he’d have moved heaven and earth to shelter you.

You turned away from his frustrated growling. “Where is he? He should be here.”

With a huff of rage, he lifted to his feet and took the one large step to the door. Rolling over, your torso twisted and you yelped at the sharp pain. “Ah - fuck! What -“

“You were very sick,” he oversimplified, glancing behind his shoulder. “Yennefer…”

“Yennefer? She says she’s the ‘Love of your life’? I thought I was dreaming but she’s really real?”

“You should know Yennefer saved YOUR life.”

You mewled, ripped the covers down your thighs and tugged at your torn shirt, trying to find the source of the overwhelming pain.

Setting his jaw, he breathed deep and clenched his fist to keep from absolutely roaring at you. “You wouldn’t have survived - to be reunited with whoever this arsehole is, since that’s clearly all you can think about.”

It was neither his tone nor his words that shook you, rather the ache in your belly. “Something feels wrong.”

“As it should. Sleep.”

“Fuck you,” you spat holding your middle, getting up onto your feet much more slowly than he did. Bumping chests, you glared up at him. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew and you didn’t say a damn thing.”

Nostrils flared, patience dwindling, he looked over your head; he knew the second he glanced down and saw the pain in your eyes, it’d just add fuel to his  fire and one of the two of you needed to be levelheaded. 

“Not for certain until Yen told me a few minutes ago. Although I had suspected something like this when you told the story yesterday.”

Suddenly alert, you bolted toward the tent flap, but a heavy arm across the front of your shoulders blocked your way. Desperately, you reached both hands out. “Please! I need to go home. I just need to see him. He’ll explain and fix it.” 

Your pained gaze finally lifted to his, digging your fingernails into his forearm locked across your chest.

His sharp gaze narrowed. “There’s a reason he didn’t come back for you. Showing up on his doorstep, now, won’t produce the results you want, I guarantee you.”

“But - I did everything I was told to do,” you gasped, blinking back tears that spilled down your cheeks anyway. Dropping your head, the tears dripped freely onto the ground. Tilting your shoulders just slightly into him, you bumped your forehead against his chest and stayed like that a long while.

“I hate you...” you sniffled and hiccupped, speaking slowly, clearly drained.

“Mmph.” He grunted, holding the back of your bare neck.

The rage had worn around the edges like two fighters in the last round dragging their feet; both of you were slow to swing back.

“Come on,” he encouraged as gently as he could muster, thumbing behind your neck. “Lie down.”

He sighed, glancing down at your trembling, balled up fist thumping against his chest.

“I-I h-hate y-“ you sobbed, nosing into his chest. “I h-aate-“

“I know,” he grumbled, closing his hand around your fist. “You hate me.”

He rested his chin on your head and carded his fingers through your hair. Feverish tears eventually gave way to panting, then to soft breaths against his skin.

“What am I going to do?” you croaked, dragging your fingertips down his spine, releasing the muscles you’d been clawing into. “I don’t know what to do.”

“The first thing you’re going to do is get some rest,” he graveled overhead. Not giving you a second to protest, he collected your wrists from behind his hips and drew you back to your cot, throwing open the covers with his free hand.

“I don’t want to sleep,” you whined, giving him a side eyed glance.

“Lie down and count geese then,” he huffed, clearly not budging on it.

With a long sigh, you crawled in and curled up, pressing your face down into the pillow. Your eyes closed when the blanket rugged up over your shoulders.

Hearing your voice just barely mumbling into your pillow, he came down onto a knee and tilted his head. 

“Hmm?” he graveled just above a whisper. “You don’t mean that. … No, you don’t. … Hm? Fine, I will. Sleep.”

Settling down cross legged, he reached over the short expanse between you and the edge of the cot. As promised, he smoothed over your hair, and hummed a deeply soothing tune, the one he’d sometimes hum to Roach when she was being groomed. 

Tag Team: @ly--canthrope​ @marswritings​ @fire-in-her-veinz​ @thiclikeh0ney @uncoolcloudyhead​ @michelle-1185​ @boop-le-snoot​ @tearsontape13​ @confusinglump​ @mary-ann84​ @the-soot-sprite @wanderingsoulcelticheart @henry-cavill-obsessed​ @ruthoakenshield​ @nerra75​ @raspberrydreamclouds​

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |  Part 4 |  Part 5 | Part 6 | Masterlist

#tw: pregnancy #tw: suicide #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: miscarriage #tw: spontaneous abortion #tw: abortion #fourmarkdovewrites #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #witcher fanfiction #witcher fic #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill angst

[chloelucia13]

Chapter 17: The Flayed

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Henderson!reader

Prompt:  You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: After what had occurred the night before, everyone was on edge. However, when everyone is grouped back together to combat this monster that was once thought to be gone, things take a dark turn.

Warnings: more angst bc what else do you expect from me, the tiniest bit of fluff if you squint, language, violence, gore, descriptions of possession

Word Count: 2441

A/N: We're getting close to the end of season 3!!! I've got a lot of ideas planned for the finale, and I've also been thinking about maybe posting some filler drabbles for the story while we wait for season 4! Let me hear your opinions and head canons, and as always, my taglists and requests are open!

Tags: @just-my-fandom​ @nightbu-g​

The cold concrete of the warehouse made your skin sting, nipping at the exposed flesh despite the nearly-impermeable humidity that blanketed the air. 

You couldn’t force yourself to move, staring idly at the mind flayer that laid just feet from you as you thought of what occurred between you and Jonathan earlier in the night.

You knew it was wrong, it was stupid and impulsive and damaging. And it wasn’t you. If you were in your right mind, you never would’ve even gotten close to kissing him. You would’ve never betrayed Nancy.

Maybe it was a good thing that the creature took over when it did. If it didn’t, you truly couldn’t imagine what else would have taken place. 

The creature lifted its head slightly as you thought of it, reminiscent of a dog that heard the crinkling of a wrapper. A mutant, rotting dog that made you nauseous whenever you looked at it. But now, staring at it was the only thing that kept you grounded, keeping you in the horrifying reality that you were unfortunately living in.

It was moments like these, your mind caught in a loop of morbid curiosity, that you wished you had El’s powers. The ability to look into people’s lives without anyone else being aware of it. You just wanted, for a moment, to check on Jonathan and make sure he was okay. Though, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to stay away to keep him safe or if you wanted to keep yourself safe.

As the creature settled back onto the ground, you let out a huff and silently cursed yourself for getting into this situation (well, whatever this situation was).

***

“Are you positive?” Nancy questioned, everyone eyeing Jonathan worriedly. 

After coming to the conclusion that Billy’s surge of power was linked with what Nancy saw happen to Mrs. Driscoll that same night, Jonathan had realized that what happened with you also fell into that same time period and also sounded extremely similar. He debated bringing it up at all, but knowing that this put so many people at risk, he spoke about it. 

He explained to everyone what happened with you last night (minus the kiss, for obvious reasons), claiming that you seemed normal until you just... weren’t. He also noted the black veins that were present on Billy and Mrs. Driscoll as well, another thing that held many similarities to Will’s case last year.

“Yes, I’m positive,” Jonathan responded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Did she feel cold?” Mike asked, his brows furrowing.

Jonathan froze for a moment, panicking at the question’s possible insinuation. He thought back to the night before, feeling your lips against his and the gentle touch of your fingers on the back of his neck. He didn’t remember you feeling cold, but at the same time, he wasn’t really focused on the temperature of your skin when it was pressed on his.

He shook his head and shrugged. “I-I don’t know. Like I said, she seemed normal. And she was wearing a sweater and jeans, too.”

This made Max look at his confusedly. “Why would she be wearing a sweater and jeans in the middle of summer?” she pondered. “Especially if she’s one of the flayed, she’d want to stay as cool as possible.”

Nancy gnawed on her bottom lip as she thought. “She knows how we got the mind flayer out of Will,” Nancy began. “Do you think... She’s trying to sweat it out?”

Again, Jonathan shrugged. “Whatever it is, we need to find her and get this thing out of her. Out of all of them.”

***

The search for you, Billy, and Heather had led the group to the Holloway house. After walking through the hallway and into the kitchen, they stumbled upon a slew of cleaning products and other chemicals scattered along the surfaces, the containers crushed as if they were emptied hastily.

As everyone discussed the possibility of the flayed consuming these chemicals to make a new substance within themselves, Jonathan’s mind once again wandered back to the previous night. There was no way that the same Y/N who ate ice cream with him less than 24 hours ago had also ingested copious amounts of cleaning products. It just didn’t make sense to him.

He didn’t have much time to think about it, though, as Nancy led the group through the dining room and into the living room. She glanced at the wine bottle that was discarded on the floor before kneeling down in front of a puddle of a red substance. “Blood,” she whispered, glancing over at Jonathan when he knelt beside her. “Yesterday, Tom had a bandage on his forehead.”

As Jonathan watched Nancy slowly pick up the blood-stained wine bottle, he was struggling to wrap his mind around the fact that you hurt someone, or at least assisted someone in doing so. 

“He was attacked,” Nancy continued. Nancy began to walk, following the trail of drag marks and disturbed rugs that led to the garage where a pile of rope laid. “They must have tied them. They must have taken them somewhere.” Nancy stood silently, thinking for a moment. Mrs. Driscoll, she kept saying ‘I have to go back.’ What if the flaying, it’s taking place somewhere else. There must be a place where this all started, right? A source.”

“Somewhere he didn’t want me to see,” El added.

“If we can find the source, then maybe we can stop them. Or at least stop it from spreading, or whatever the hell they’re doing with those chemicals.”

“How do we find it?”

“Mrs. Driscoll,” Will spoke. “If she wants to go back so badly, why don’t we let her?”

“Okay, but this doesn’t make sense,” Jonathan argued, unable to pull his eyes from the rope that laid at his feet. “Y/N wouldn’t be able to hurt someone, let alone tie them up and drag them god-knows-where.”

“Jonathan, this isn’t Y/N,” Nancy argued.

He huffed. “Last night, when she changed, I tried to stop her from leaving because I was worried. I-I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I needed to help her, so I grabbed her arm.” He gulped. “She begged me to let her go. She said that she didn’t want to hurt me.”

A silence fell over the whole group as his words sunk in.

“Maybe she can control herself around you. But around other people, she can’t keep the flayer from taking over,” Nancy spoke finally, reaching out and touching his shoulder. “But you’re her weakness. And that’s gonna help us a lot.”

***

Silently watching Mrs. Driscoll’s body melt and condense into a meaty mush made you want to retch, but your body stood stock still as the lump inched from the room and down into the pipes. Once the mass disappeared from sight, you wandered out of the room, down the hall, and out into the stairwell, aimlessly walking down the stairs to pass time as you waited for whatever task the mind flayer would assign you next.

For once, you wish you were working at the pool, boiling under the scorching July sun. At least you’d have something to do.

Those thoughts left as soon as they came, however, when that strong fog began to flood your mind, your body switching onto autopilot as your feet led you onto the second floor.

A sharp pain stabbed through the right side of your head as you were about to turn the corner, doubling over in pain and clutching your head as you heard quick footsteps coming down the stairs. Immediately, you straightened up and jogged down the hallway, grabbing a pair of scissors from a nurse’s station before rushing into the wing of the hospital that was under construction and slipping into a room.

You heard the heavy footfalls sprint past your door, followed by another flayed that stalked slowly behind them. You stepped out of the room and walked beside him, tightly clutching the pair of scissors in your hand as the lights flickered around you.

The man beside you led you both over to a locked door, two voices echoing through the door. You nodded your head at the door and he slammed his fist through the glass, screams sounding from the two within the room as he peeked his head in before undoing the lock. As he pulled the door open, you stepped inside, a sinister grin on your face.

But that grin immediately fell when you saw who exactly was behind the door.

The man pushed past you, disregarding your clear shock as he threatened Nancy in a sing-song voice. Jonathan, who clearly was also reeling with shock but shoved it down, stepped forward and pulled his fist back, ready to attack the man. the man’s hand shot out and grabbed onto Jonathan’s neck, choking Jonathan and shoving Nancy away with his free hand.

The flayer’s control faded from your mind and you took advantage of it, hurrying over to Nancy and trying to help her up. “Y/N?” she coughed out, her eyes wide with fear. 

“You have to go,” you forced out, using as much strength as you could muster to pull her to her feet while also fighting to keep your consciousness. 

Behind you, you heard a groan of pain coming from Jonathan, and you and Nancy turned to look just in time to see the man slam a metal stool down on Jonathan’s back.

Nancy finally got onto her feet and you threw your scissors to the ground when you felt the flayer’s control slowly start to seep back into you. Through blurry vision, you watched Nancy take the scissors you discarded and embed them into the back of the man. 

You and the man hunched over, and you let out a groan of pain as he pulled the scissors from his back. The man cursed at her, quickly regaining his composure and stalking over to her. 

“Run!” you and Jonathan screamed at her, and you waited until she had led the man out of the room to go run over to Jonathan and help him.

"Jonathan,” you whispered, crouching down next to him and gently resting your hand on his back. “Are you okay?”

He gasped in pain, turning his head to look up at you. “What’s going on? How are you-” he began before you shook your head.

“I don’t know. Come on, let’s get you up.” You pulled the stool over to him and he gripped onto it, lifting his upper half up with all his might.

Moments later, the stool fell from his grip, Tom menacingly grinning down at the two of you. “Where are you going?” he hummed, nudging you to the side so he could pick Jonathan up by his shirt.

“Let him go!” you screeched, stumbling to your feet.

Tom held Jonathan by the collar of his shirt, locking eyes with him before glancing back at you. “Let him go? Sure.” He picked Jonathan up and threw him into the lockers, Jonathan’s body falling to the linoleum floor a moment later. Tom picked him up once more and threw his body into a cart, letting his body crumple to the ground.

You watched in horror as Jonathan crawled along the floor towards the pair of scissors, your whole body exhausted from all the strength it was taking to keep the monster at bay. Tom knelt beside Jonathan and grabbing him by the hair, lifting his face from the ground before slamming it down.

Once Jonathan finally fell unconscious, if only for a few moments, Tom grabbed the scissors and lifted them over his head.

“I’m in control of you! Stop!” you screamed, allowing the creature to take hold, black veins snaking up your face and arms. “Leave him alone.”

Tom turned to you, the scissors still held above his head. Tears streaked down your face as you glanced down at Jonathan, your vision slowly going dark. 

However, before the creature fully took hold, a harsh pain cracked across your face, making you cry out in pain. You clutched your nose and watched Tom stumble away, only for the two of you to be tossed around by another strong force.

Jonathan and Tom both scrambled to their feet, the scissors held tightly in Jonathan’s hand. Jonathan hesitated though, looking down at you on the floor. He had realized that whatever happened to one of the flayed was felt by all of them, and that meant that whatever he did to Tom, you would feel as well. 

“Do it,” you gasped out, rising to your feet with the gracefulness of a newborn fawn. 

“I don’t want to hurt-” Jonathan stuttered.

“Do it!” you screamed.

Tom lunged at him, and Jonathan plunged the scissors into Tom’s throat. Both you and Tom let out a ghastly gasp/moan of pain as you collapsed onto the floor.

As the lights continued to flicker overhead, Jonathan rushed over to you and turned you onto your back, clutching you in his arms.

Your eyes searched his, both of your chests heaving with ragged pants while you both silently communicated to each other.

“You need to go, I can’t control it anymore,” you choked out before rolling out of his arms and crawled over to Tom’s body. The two of you silently watched as Tom’s body began to convulse and turn to that all-too-familiar mush (well, familiar to you, at least). Jonathan let out a gasp of horror, though his eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion when your body didn’t do the same.

He realized then that his theory was right. You were different than all of the other flayers. On one hand, he was relieved because he knew it was truly you. On the other hand, though, it horrified him that it was you who committed all of these horrible acts. That, and the fact that you somehow had control over these creatures truly made his skin crawl.

He realized he didn’t have much time to dwell on it because the strange mush of blood and meat and bones slowly began to inch out of the room the same time that your eyes fluttered closed. He contemplated staying to check on you, but decided against it after a moment, instead following behind the disgusting mass.

A strange sense of calm washed over him when he saw Nancy standing at the other end of the hallway, following her own strange substance. Silently, the two masses led the two teens down the hallway, joining together in the middle and morphing into something even more sinister.

#stranger things #stranger things 3 #Jonathan byers #Jonathan x reader #Nancy wheeler #Nancy x reader #billy hargrove #billy x reader #imagine #st x reader #one shot #series #Steve harrington #mike wheeler #will byers #dustin henderson #max mayfield #eleven #Jane hopper #jim hopper #Joyce byers #Lucas sinclair #robin buckley #heather holloway #henderson!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic

[highfaelucien]

Ardere - A Helion/Lady of Autumn Fic

y’all heathens made me have feelings so i wrote a thing. hurt/comfort, angst, all sorts. Tagging some folks who inspired this with their emotional dashboard shenanigans/that I feel would Appreciate the content. @exiledelain @confused-as-all-hell @asteria-of-mars @ratabrasileira @ladyvanserra @vanserrasvalkyrie @rarephloxes  @queen-hypaxia

Title: Ardere

Length: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, given Lady Autumn’s situation

Summary: Set during the High Lords meeting in ACOWAR. Canon compliant, I suppose, but do any of us care about that anymore?? Hestia, the Lady of the Autumn Court, seeks her oldest lover and comfort Helion for a stolen night of love and reconnection. Helion POV, emotional hurt/comfort, bit of angst.

Teaser:

‘" Hestia," he whispered, with the same reverence he'd speak the name of a goddess in her holiest temple.

Instinct bade him go to her, and he did not fight it. He didn't even try.

For a moment he thought she might refuse him, might insist upon caution. But the next she was in his arms, and as he held her close and breathed her in, he knew he hadn't been truly warm since last he'd been able to embrace her.

"Helion," she murmured into his chest.

The sound of her voice wrapped around his name was the sweetest torture he'd ever known. All Hyben need do to break him was ask him to defect in her voice and he would obey without a thought.

AO3: Link

"I cannot spare long." 

The book he'd been flipping idly through dropped at once from his fingers at the sound of that voice.

Before he'd finished turning to her, her scent hit him. So warm, so inviting, it nearly knocked him back into his chair.

Then he beheld her.

The first time he'd clapped eyes on her, all those centuries ago, she'd left him breathless and stunned. 

Like an Autumn storm that had ravaged every part of his being and left him, naked and awed, before its power and majesty. She had blown into his life with an unexpected abruptness as yet unmatched.

He'd been an arrogant prick at that age. Cauldron, he was still an arrogant prick. But he'd been used to everyone's eyes, male or female, following him as he moved through a room. 

Those gazes found him and they didn't leave. He was High fae. He was a High Lord's heir. He'd been made to rule Day and to look damned good while doing it.

 He'd been accustomed to being wanted, to inspiring lust and envy by simply existing.

Never, before her, had he been on the other side. 

He'd never seen someone so beautiful. So consuming and captivating that he hadn't been sure of being able to win their lust and love with a simple smile and an effortless word.

She'd shaken something in him that day. She had entered his world and unmade him with a glance. Then reconstructed him, exactly as she'd found him, with one stark difference. At the core of the man she had rebuilt was a need for her. Not merely her beautiful body, but her heart, her soul. He'd known, in that moment, that she had him. And always would.

The years had taken much from her. And holy gods, did he know it. But they had not taken this, her ability to so thoroughly destroy him that he was reborn at once as her servant in but a single glance.

" Hestia," he whispered, with the same reverence he'd speak the name of a goddess in her holiest temple.

Instinct bade him go to her, and he did not fight it. He didn't even try.

For a moment he thought she might refuse him, might insist upon caution. But the next she was in his arms, and as he held her close and breathed her in, he knew he hadn't been truly warm since last he'd been able to embrace her.

"Helion," she murmured into his chest.

The sound of her voice wrapped around his name was the sweetest torture he'd ever known. All Hyben need do to break him was ask him to defect in her voice and he would obey without a thought.

For all that he made a show, and tell, if he was fair, about what the Cauldron gave him with regards to his body, particularly his glorious thighs, that wasn't his true pride.

No, the thing he held most valuable was his mind which contained the knowledge of a thousand libraries and more.

He didn't earn his name by clearing through spells with his thighs. Fuck no. His wit, his cunning, his intellect, that was where his true power, his true strength as a High Lord came from.

That was why Hestia had always managed to claim him so thoroughly. All these centuries later and he still couldn't think around her. Couldn't form a single coherent thought while her scent filled his lungs. It travelled from there directly to his brain, and filled it with stolen afternoons and illicit nights spent in the only place they truly belonged.

Drawing away, in itself an agony, but one he was rewarded for, as it let him look into her face.

He cradled it between his hands, so careful. so delicate. She was not a fragile woman, he knew that well. She was of the forge, with fire in her veins, and iron in her bones.

The world saw the silence, the frailty of her body, and the resignation of her fate and mistook that for softness, and docility. He knew better.

This woman put the heroes of the War to shame. Her strength, her courage, her will - if they had any idea they'd have written epic poems about her resilience and ballads to her spirit. 

Drakon wouldn't have lasted an hour in her place. Had she been in his, the damned War would have ended so fast they wouldn't have been able to call it one.

Yet he held her with all the gentleness that was in him. Not because he feared she might break without it; but because he knew she would find none elsewhere.

His fingers tenderly brushed her hair from her eyes. Like her, their, son's it was a red as sure as blood. But hers spiralled from her in a cacophony of raucous curls. They were contained, now, with a thick leather band around her head. He would always remember them wild, and free, as she was meant to be.

As he moved them aside, he saw the shadow of a bruise around one of her beautiful russet eyes. Hidden well, but...

His body went taut, jaw clenching instinctively. She felt the tension coiling in him, and laid her hands gently over his.

"Don’t," was all she said, voice soft, but unyielding, like the sun’s gentle rays as it rose each morning.

"Not a heartbeat has passed for me since that day," he rumbled, voice deeper and darker than his usual light, playful timbre." That I have not thought about the choice that was made, and begged the Mother to let me change it." 

She faced him steadily and said, " You know I made the choice that was available to mem" she moved closer, her body melting against his, like the hot metal of a blade folded around itself to create something more, "Not the one I wanted."

"I know, my hearthlight,” he whispered softly, sensing her smile at the old pet name he used for her, “And I would never blame you for that. But as for myself-"

A coward. This woman. This holy, burning creature. This caged forest fire... She loved a coward.

Hestia placed a finger to his lips, silencing him, " What good does it do," she murmured the rich warmth of her voice caressing him like a thick blanket on a cold winter night, “To dwell upon the past? To linger, in misery, and shame in a single moment of your immortal life?”

He opened his mouth to answer her, but she knew him too well, and silenced him with but a single look.

"Will your regret force back the sun?” she demanded with that quiet spirit he loved so keenly, “Will your sadness take us back? Will your guilt rewrite the pages of the history books which have been gathering dust in your libraries for centuries?" 

She was such a small thing. She always had been. And seemed more so, held between his muscular arms. Yet she dwarfed him now.

Like the flicker of a candle flame catching and summoning a raging inferno to remind him she was but a fragment of a force of nature, bound in skin, but never truly caged.

"If I could have," he said at last, voice a little hoarse as though he'd inhaled thick smoke, “I would have done so a thousand times over. And paid any price to do so."

He had tried. He'd never confess it to another soul, not even to the Mother herself upon his deathbed, but he had tried. Tried to rip apart the fabric of all reality with nothing but his bare hands and love for her.

A part of him was still surprised that it had not been enough. Because it was. Reality had simply not accepted that particular facet of its existence.

"I know you would have, lucky fluke," all these years and still she called him that. 

A name she'd hung on him to tease the first day they had met. He'd baldly called their meeting the Mother's own ordained fate. She'd laughed, with a sound like falling leaves, and named it, and him, lucky fluke. 

Then, the words had been edged with mockery. Now they echoed with all of their history, with all of their fondness, and all of her love.

"But time goes on. That sun of yours still journeys East to West, and we still live with the decisions we made upon a summer's night a million fireflies' lifetimes ago."

" Hestia-" he began, but she quietened him once more.

"When I wish to look back, Helion, I shall find myself a mirror,” she said, with the strength that had held her together all these decades of pain and misery, turned upon him now to remind him that she would not yield.

“I will not live my life wading through times I have already endured,” she said, voice softer now, but no less intent, “I have no wish to allow him to cause me pain in the few and rare times that are my own. I shall make pleasant moments here, with you, and that is what I ask of you. To be with me. Here. Now. And to love me while we can."

"I am yours, Lady,” he breathed. 

With the same breath he’d first pledged that to her centuries ago. Before the world had taken the freedom she craved so much, and given him a power he’d never wanted. A tattoo of her heart had etched itself over his own, in a vibrant red, a marker of the bargain he’d made. Unintended, but not regretted. 

“From now until my sun fades from this world unto the next," he promised her once more, one hand over his heart.

"Until I find you there as well," she replied, as she had all those years ago, leaning up, while drawing him down, and touching her forehead to his.

He loved her. Oh, Cauldron, he loved her, and whatever the Mother had used to make her, he loved that too.

"Come," she said softly," Let us make the most of what time we have."

So they did.

"What do you want from me, Hestia?" he whispered, pressing the worlds into her thick hair, his face buried in the crown of her head.

She looked at him, and answered as she did each time with aching certainty, and absolute truth." Everything."

"Then take it." he whispered, a devoted priest at last within the presence of his deity, “All I have, and all I do not. Take it all."

So she did.

They had no need of words in that hallowed space when bodies and beings connected, skin to skin, and soul to soul.

The breath it would have cost to provide a vessel for their thoughts would have only felt like a barrier between them.

They had no wish for that.

He knew her thoughts. And she knew his. They did not need to share them with the air and fireflies. 

For themselves, they gave voice to those thoughts in the lost language of lovers. Spoken in the gasps of breath and sweating palms.Thundering hearts, and hungering lips. Gasping lungs, and grasping touch.

And every thought the same: I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Then came the quiet. The gentle tangle of limbs. Eyes closed, heartbeats aligned. Willing the dawn to wait for them.

They did not sleep. They would not waste time on dreams when they already had everything they could ever hope to find in that untamable oblivion already contained within their embrace.

"It has been some time," Helion said at last, loath to break the spell of the silent commune of their souls, but such was his nature,"I thought the most of you I would ever make love to again was the echo of our last time, the memory of you."

He shifted slightly, so that he could see her face, all peaceful lines and soft curls, her eyes still closed.

"Why now, Hestia? With him," his jaw tightened at the mere mention of that excuse for a male, "So close the risk-"

"Is minimal," she interceded smoothly. Still without opening an eye, she continued." I drugged his wine. He shall sleep until daybreak. At least."

Helion opened his mouth, then closed it, refusing to be drawn off course "You didn't answer my question."

"I thought the answer would be obvious to you, lucky fluke," she murmured.

"You know you reduce me to the wits of a mere mortal, hearthlight," he said, half burying the words in her thick hair.

" Hmm," she hummed, thoughtful, "Must I spell it out for you, then, brightheart?" 

"If you would be so good, my lady." 

She was quiet so long he thought she might have succumbed to sleep, despite their pact.

At last she said, quiet as an Autumn breeze, " Each morning, when I open my eyes, and watch the sun rise beyond my window, I prepare myself for pain." 

He flinched, but she seemed not to notice, continuing calmly.

"This has been my burden to bear through all my years of marriage And I have borne it well, without falter, or complaint.

"I have known pain in many forms, and I have carried every one. But upon the horizon, I saw a new pain. One I had not confronted for so long. And I knew, in my soul, that I was not equal to it. That, at last, I would meet a battle I could not win. And so I found a way to avoid fighting it altogether."

"What did you foresee, hearthlight?" he forced himself to say.

"This war," she murmured, her ever-steady voice cracking in a way that made him pull her closer still. "This war came. And it claimed you. It took you from me when you had not been mine in centuries. And I could not abide that."

"I am always yours," he whispered fiercely. 

"Peace, brightheart," she soothed, "I know that. But I had to feel it. I had to erase the idea that last time was the last. I had to have you, and hold you, and love you once more before the end. Or else I knew I could not face this war. Not alone."

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and held it, eyes closed, heart pounding, fighting every urge not to speak the words batting past the lump in his throat. But he had never been as strong as her.

"I cannot let you go this time, Hestia," he groaned, " I cannot sit idly, and smile, and tease while I've willingly let you go again."

"If I can find the strength to do what must be done," she said, with iron in her words, "Then you must find the strength to let me."

"I can't," he said, voice breaking. She found his hand and squeezed it, "I am a High Lord in my own right now, Hestia." he breathed to her." I could-"

"No, you could not." she said, firm, unyielding, a rock in an icy stream, with waters all around, that had not moved in centuries, and would not now.

"There is a war coming, Helion. Win or lose in a fight for me, it would shatter this fragile alliance, and any hope for Pythian. So you will do no such thing." she went on, before he could protest, "For we must win this war. For our courts. For our people. For our freedom. And for our son."

For the first time her voice broke. Before they fell, his fingers had already lifted to wipe her tears. the only ones she would shed. Not for herself. Never for herself. But for her, for their, son... She had never confronted him with it so boldly before.

He closed his eyes, unable to deny her. Unable to even deny her.

"We have to tell him, Hestia," he said, so softly.

"We must," she agreed, "But I have not been allowed to see him in almost three hundred years. And I will not have you tell him alone. As much for his sake as for yours."

He nodded, head bowed. 

"Together, then. If I make it through what is to come."

Reaching up she took his chin between her fingers and drew his face down to meet her eyes.

"You will not die this war, Helion," she told him.

Her words flared with that fire she was forced to hide from everyone, everyone but him.

"Because if you try, I will drag the Mother by her hair to your grave and force her to dig you up for me."

He smiled at those words, at the certainty that she would do exactly as she said.

"That almost makes me want to try it, you know," he purred, tracing vague patterns into the bare skin of her shoulder with his thumb as he spoke, "Just to see you do that."

She actually growled at him which, from her, was enough to utterly dissuade him from the notion.

They lay in gentle silence together, until the velvet blackness of night bled to indigo, as the careless artist of time spilled the white she used to craft the stars into the sky itself and melted its darkness.

"I've always found it ironic," he mused, "That being High Lord of Day hasn't blessed me with the power to halt the sun, and stop the day from intruding."

"That is your duty, brightheart." she replied with a soft smile." You must assert yourself upon the land, its sleepy lovers, and restless thieves alike, and force them to make haste and more. Without you there would be no growth, no change, only stagnation and decay." 

She cupped his face in her hand, a hand now lined, to show the life she'd lived. Without him. His heart lurched at the thought.

But her voice drew him back to her as she said, "And without Day, the nights would not seem nearly so precious."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her waiting mouth, silent thanks for her words, the feeling behind them. He held her eyes a moment more. spinning out this last bit of thread, like a frugal weaver making the most of fate's allotment.

Then he said, irritably, "I'm still going to have words with Thesan later today."

She laughed as he said that, but she laughed as she withdrew from him. 

How fittingly ironic that the sweetest sound he'd ever heard paired in this moment with the bitterest sorrow he'd ever felt.

He watched her as she withdrew the new gown she'd thought to bring. At a silent glance from her he rose, still naked, and helped to seal her back into her cage of cotton and lace.

He combed and braided her hair, as he'd done a thousand times before. Then, heart aching, as it had a thousand times before, he spun a ward around her, to mask his scent where it mingled with hers. She could carry no reminders of this night save fragile memory.

Then, like the night, with one final kiss, she was gone. The chamber felt cold, even as it was bathed in his light.

Wordless, he pulled on a robe and strode onto his balcony to greet the rising of his sun.

It was a hollow warmth, compared to her, and brought him little comfort. 

As he gazed ahead into his eternity. Alone, once more. Lonely in a way only she would know. For the world saw the friends he surrounded himself with, and the lovers he brought to his bed, without ever knowing the gaping void in his soul that he could never fill with them.

Closing his eyes, he drew in one last breath of her, of them, their scents still mingling on his skin, then banished it.

He turned towards the light, facing this new day, and begged the Mother to lend him even a fragment of his heartlight's strength that he might face it.

***

#helion spell cleaver #the lady of the autumn court #helion x lady of autumn #hestia vanserra #hearthlight #(that's what im tagging them) #(bc she doesn't have a name so im going OLD SCHOOL SHIP TAG STYLE) #this made me feel things #acotar series #text post tag #long post #my fic #mine #hearthlight fic #helion fic #hestia fic #mama lucien