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bunniesanddeer · 3 months

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Touch Pt 2

Alastor x GN!Reader

Part One

Plot: Alastor talks to Charlie about his problem, sort of. Then he settles the situation with Reader.

Tags: GN! Reader, fluff, angst, minor pining, short fic.

Word Count: 1,591

Touch Pt. 2

It was Charlie that came to get him. He had neglected to make dinner or even tell the others that he wasn’t going to make it that night. Charlie had knocked on his door, her rhythmic knock ever-so recognizable, and leaned her head just inside.

“Hey, Al? You alright, in there?” He could see her eyes flit about, before landing on him. “We were worried about you.”

Alastor just hummed, disinterest coloring his face. He was sitting at a small table just across the border of the original room and his swamp, sipping a cup of coffee, and reading.

Charlie, seemingly ignoring his clear show of indifference, stepped further into his room, shutting the door behind her.

“Don’t worry about dinner. Angel begged for us to just order pizza instead. Something about ‘junk food healing the soul’, or whatever,” Charlie continued, making her way towards Alastor. Although her hands fiddled with each other, she kept her voice steady. Charlie was getting better at hiding her nerves around Alastor. (He could almost say he was proud, but that would be inane!) “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Charlie said your name, and Alastor’s ear perked, on their own accord. “They mentioned you seeming off earlier, but didn’t want to bother you.”

“I can assure you that I am fine, dear. I don’t know what silly thoughts they’ve put in your head, but everything is fine,” Alastor said, trying to keep his smile wide. When he finally looked at Charlie, he realized she hadn’t believed a word he’d said. How ridiculous! There was nothing wrong! She should just take his word for it, and leave.

“I don’t know. You do seem bothered by something.” Charlie made her, ridiculous, thinking face, before nodding to herself. She promptly sat herself in the seat opposite Alastor, and folded her hands on the table. “You should talk about it. It’s not good to let these things bottle up.”

Alastor nearly dropped his smile so he could glare at her. How absolutely ludicrous! He had nothing to talk about! And even if he did, he had nothing he would willingly tell Charlie. “There is nothing to talk about. Please leave.”

Charlie cocked her head, and narrowed her eyes. She said your name, again, watching his ears twitch. “This is about them, isn’t it! You’ve been acting weird around them recently. Always staring at them.”

Alastor gritted his teeth, trying to hold his composure. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“HA! It is! You would never respond like that if it wasn’t.” Charlie smiled smugly, and Alastor wanted to claw her face off. He couldn’t, but it was an entertaining thought. He could turn her skin into ribbons, and use them to gift-wrap things for Rosie. “Come on, what’s going on? You didn’t have a problem with them before.”

Alastor hesitated. He could try and pry information out of Charlie, if he let himself be a tiny bit honest. He sighed, and set down his book and mug. “Alright, I’ll tell you a little, but! I have a question first.”

Charlie gave him a suspicious look, but she acquiesced with a nod.

“Why are they suddenly all… touchy with everyone? You mentioned some time ago that they don’t like being touched, but that seems to have changed, rather out of nowhere,” Alastor said, trying to keep his motivation for the answer hidden. He watched as Charlie’s face flooded with multiple emotions, before settling on something soft. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it made his skin crawl. The deer-demon hoped that expression had nothing to do with him.

“Ah. Yeah. I meant to explain that when they talked to me about it recently, but I completely forgot,” Charlie sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. “They’re touch averse, but when they get comfortable with people, especially good friends, it’s something they start to… hmm what is the word I want to use… They kind of start to crave it. Touch is something they don’t get a lot of, so when they are comfortable with someone, they’ll initiate a lot of it. So now that they’re settled into the hotel, and know all of us well enough, they’re more comfortable.”

He had never considered something like that before. You would get lonely, wouldn’t you? You were a very outgoing soul, but sequestering yourself from others would get hard after a time, wouldn’t it? The more Alastor thought about it, the more it made sense. You had been there quite a while once you started to get tactile with the others. But still, it didn’t make sense that he would be excluded! You were always so nice to him! You sometimes sought him out for conversation. Was he too overbearing sometimes? Alastor’s mind slightly spiraled, the longer he thought about it.

“You alright there, Al?” Charlie’s voice interrupted his mental descent with a rough jerk. “Does your problem have something to do with that?”

Alastor looked away from the princess, trying to contain his thoughts down enough so he could tell her without giving it all away. But the idea of you fearing him or something of that nature made his stomach churn. He couldn’t think straight.

“Then why not me?”

Alastor didn’t realize he had spoken until Charlie’s eyebrows popped up. “Oh. Oh geez.” Her face scrunched in guilt. “That might be my fault.”

A screech interrupted the soft static that played around Alastor. “What?”

Charlie’s eyes flitted about, uncomfortable with the weight of Alastor’s glare. “Yeah. I mentioned, pretty early on to them, that you also don’t like being touched. That sometimes you might touch others, but you didn’t like it.”

Alastor cupped his forehead in one hand, and glared down at the table. “Are you kidding me?”

“Ah, no. I’m pretty sure that’s it. They’re pretty good about keeping boundaries, so they might have been trying to make sure you were comfortable,” Charlie muttered. She cupped her face in her hands, melting into them with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Al. I can totally go talk to them for you. If I had known this was a problem, I would never…”

Alastor tuned out Charlie’s ramblings. This whole thing had been a misunderstanding. Somewhat. It was true, he didn’t like being touched, most of the time. However, he did not like being left out of things without being consulted! It should have been up to him to draw that line. Alastor huffs to himself, and decides he will simply talk to you, himself.

He abruptly stands from his chair. “Alright then! I’m off to go talk to the little darling! I will straighten this out myself, Charlie.” Without another word, or even bothering to make sure she left his room, he took off towards your room.

He knocks twice, and waits patiently. Alastor hears a few thumps, and is glad that you’re inside. Much better to have this conversation in a private place, rather than out in the open!

The door creaks open, and there you are! You smile up at him. “Hi, Alastor. What can I do for you,” you ask.

Ha! What could you do for him? (What couldn’t you do? No. He wasn’t going to continue thinking.)

“Hello, my dear! I was hoping you had a moment, so we could talk! Hopefully, inside?” He gestures towards the inside of your room, and, although you hesitate, you nod. You open the door wider, and let him in.

“What’s up?” You ask. (He would never get over how strange slang and expressions got in recent years. At least he could understand most of them now. It used to be hard to understand younger souls).

“Ah. I was hoping to clear up a misconception that you might have.” Alastor leans down, leaving a few inches of space between your faces. Your eyes widen, just slightly, in surprise, but he is pleased to see you hold your ground. “I do not always mind being touched. I have, in fact, noticed you actively avoiding touching me.” Alastor leans back, suddenly, placing a hand over his heart. “And oh, does it hurt, dearest!”

He says it as if it’s a joke, (it isn’t), and it is, but he dislikes being singled out in matters as trivial as these! Your brows furrow, but you still give him a smile.

“Ah, dang, Al. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to exclude you. I just thought you didn’t like that kind of stuff.” You smile wider, your tone turning silly. “I’ll make sure to include you in all our group hugs now!”

Alastor’s brows flatten, and his ears pin back, just slightly. “Please don’t.”

Your eyes close as you smile and laugh. You take a hand and cover it up. (Alastor wants to pull it down. One should never hide their smile. He doesn’t, though). He feels a weight, that he hadn’t noticed, lift from him at the sight.

When you put a hand on his arm and squeeze, softly, it feels right. He says little more, just a ‘good night’. When he finally deigns to make himself dinner, he lets the joy finally saturate his body. What a delightful feeling!

He enjoys the next several days, where he realizes how many little touches you give him. If he preens beneath them, or his smile grows wider, or his tail wags, no one notices. Much better that way. No one needed to know.

Much less you, with your soft smiles, and happy laughter.

Not knowing would always be the better option.

Taglist:

I have no idea how to do one of these! I apologize if it doesn't work! Also, some of the names aren't working, when I try to tag, so I am sorry if you are listed, but it didn't work??

@wpdarlingpan @cxrsedwxrlds @littledolly2345 @angelofthorr @nkirukaj @hazelfoureyes @teh-vampire-bunny @fairyv-ice @ittoehurt @poppingaround @mysterypotatoink @viridiya @xalygatorx @viviannagiorgini

ALSO

Thank you?? I wasn't expecting the response that I got from everyone! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I squee'd out loud when I saw how many people had read my silly little fic. Also, if you have left an ask, I am working on it, I promise! I just have a very crazy schedule.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor #light angst #fluff #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #bun's short fics

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scoutswritingcorner · 1 month

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Can I request how the Hazbin cast would deal with their partner being afraid of storms?

Storming Troubles

Hazbin Gang x GN!Reader

TW: Fear of storms!

A/N: Female Reader for Vaggie and Male Reader for Angel Dust as always!

-👑Charlie👑-

-👑 She’s immediately hugging you and telling you how brave you are for telling her. Because telling people in hell about your fear is not always a good thing.

-👑 She’ll do everything in her power to help you. When it starts storming? She’s holding you close.

-👑 Need noise canceling headphones? She’s got you. Just want to be held? Her arms are already open for you!

-👑 Will stay with you the whole night. All in all she’s very understanding and kind.

-🎀Vaggie🎀-

-🎀 Also very understanding!

-🎀 If she knows it’s going to starting storming later that day? She’s preparing everything for you!

-🎀 Blankets, pillows, your favorite plushies. She’s not complaining. -🎀 It also gets her out of work too for a bit, she’ll hold you all night if it helps!

-🍎Lucifer🍎-

-🍎 I feel like he also has a fear of storms or just doesn’t like them much!

-🍎It reminds him too much of when he fell and how he could hear the roaring winds around him and then the boom when he hit the soil of Hell.

-🍎So when it does happen? He’s got a whole blanket fort full of comfort items and snacks just in case!

-🍎 Big on the cuddles! It comforts him so much and it keeps him grounded when his mind starts to wonder.

-🕷️Angel Dust🩷-

-🕷️ Angel doesn’t mind the rain but when he sees how distraught you were he immediately holds you close.

-🩷 He doesn’t want his boyfriend shaking in fear or crying all night thinking he’s alone. He’ll press kisses to the top of your head and softly whisper to you telling you how brave you are.

-🕷️ If you want to get your mind off of it, he’ll definitely start gossiping or will make you laugh. Either one works.

-🩷 He will 100% tell Fat Nuggets to “attack” you with Kisses to make you laugh and smile.

-🎰Husk🎰-

-🎰 He loves the rain and storms, it reminds him alot of when he was alive and just watched the rain hit the windows of whatever bar he was in.

-🎰 But when he realizes you are terrified of them? He picks you up and takes you to your shared room for cuddles.

-🎰 He’ll help you take your mind off of it by talking to you or with you!

-🎰 He purrs loudly while laying on your chest, head in your neck as you slowly drift off. Didn’t you know purring heals the soul? Also his wings drape over you as an additional barrier of protection!

-🦌Alastor🦌-

-🦌 Now this man. He is an asshole, he means well but he’s an asshole.

-🦌 He doesn’t like storms either. But because they can fuck up his broadcast.

-🦌 He’ll let you hide in his room with him as he reads, he’ll hold you close to his side and occasionally kiss your forehead. Also makes snide remarks.

-🦌 His shadow is the one that comforts you the most, it will curl around you and snuggle you all night long while giving your own shadow kisses.

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imaginesmai · 3 months

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Promises to keep (3) - Azriel

Final part! Thank you for the support, I usually don't post the fics so rushed, but I wrote all the parts at the same time and why keep you waiting? Enjoy it!

Part 1, Part 2

Plot: Azriel and you have been rescued from a living hell, and now it's time for recovery.

Azriel remembered little about the hours following your rescue.

He remembered the calmness he felt when he heard the familiar steps through the hallways, thinking your soft smile was because of them too. He could hear again and again Rhysand and Cassian calling out for you two, and him shouting back – and he could feel the knot on his chest when you didn’t look down the hallway with him. He remembered thinking you were going to black out like the previous times. And then, he heard your heart.

Just before Rhysand and Cassian barreled in covered in blood, Azriel heard your heart slowing dangerously. He tried to keep you awake, and felt his whole word crumbling when, after Rhysand pushed past him to look at you, you closed your eyes.

Azriel remembered little about that day, only the feeling of your hand in his through the recovery.

Madja had been a saint through all of it, enduring his screams when he woke up thinking you were back in the cell, and you weren’t in his arms. She didn’t comment about the burns on your hands and the burns on your soul. She didn’t complain when Azriel and you were laid in the same bed because he couldn’t bear to have you out of sight.

She was a saint, and Azriel would be forever grateful for it.

Through conscious and unconsciousness, he healed slowly but firmly. Not as much could be said about you, whose wounds had yet to close and power to return. He laid his broken body next to you as he healed, and prayed each time he was awake that you woke up to one last promise.

“I’m sorry it took us so long” Rhysand confessed that night, only the moon illuminating the room. Azriel was laying on his side, staring at your motionless face. “We should… I’m sorry”

“I don’t blame you” Azriel croaked out.

Rhysand had yet to know the full details of what happened, and the lord guessed he would never know them all. The way Azriel’s eyes had been haunted, the burns on your hands, let him know enough. He couldn’t let go of the guilt of not arriving sooner, but even his was insignificant compared to Azriel’s.

When he wasn’t staring at you in silence, he looked ready to break down the world for what had happened.

“There was a male. Tall, black eyes. He knew about her powers. Made her use them” his voice was rough with unuse, sad and regretful. “Did you find him?”

“If he was there when we arrived, then he hid well. We killed everyone left” Rhysand was silent for a moment, debating whether he should tell his brother what he knew.

“I want to know it” Azriel’s hazel eyes briefly left your face to look at him. “Don’t you dare to hide it. Tell me”

“We didn’t find him, but… when you were taken, we used everything we had to find you. There was no trace, no smell, that could tell us where they had taken you” he swallowed hard, thinking about the first hours of panic and chaos. “But Lucien… he recognized the magic left on your cabin. Knew where it came from”

“Where?”

“The continent. It was the same magic he found when he went looking for the Vassa” before Azriel could press further, he continued. “I can only theorize, but if you say he survived her powers, that might had been Koschei”

“He’s here?”

Azriel rose on one arm, no sign of discomfort from his wounds. Rhysand didn’t know if it was prudent to tell Azriel about Koschei, because his brother looked ready to travel back to the continent to find him. He could only guess what he would do if Feyre was in that bed.

Koschei had appeared not so long ago and had showed interest in Azriel’s powers. He had taunted the Illyrian, angered him until he had shown him a part of his shadows. And still, Azriel knew it was a blessing that Koschei wondered about him and not about his mate. It seemed, that blessing had been short-lived.

“Y/N’s powers… we had been lucky until now. If Koschei has Vassa in that lake, Y/N would seem like a perfect complement”

“But we were careful” Azriel interrupted him, now sitting in bed. “When he came, she was away and didn’t come back for a month. Why now? Why does he know about her and her powers? Did someone betray us?”

“Or he smelled her through Vassa” Rhysand shrugged, as if he hadn’t been breaking his mind for the last month trying to understand what went wrong. “You can try and guess, for now, the only thing we can do is keep her safe”

The bond stilled in his chest for a long second, and Azriel looked down at you. Peacefully sleeping, you looked like an angel. He had seen the carnage at the cell. How, body after body, had melted when your light infiltrated through their pores and broke through. Each patrol sent your way had met the same fate. The last ones, when your power was on the verge of giving up, had been the most grotesque.

All of that had been because of him. You had refused to acknowledge your power for centuries, had dismissed any chance of training it in fear of repeating what happened the night your parents were murdered. And you had finally done it for him. The man who couldn’t keep your hands safe from the fire.

Rhysand’s hand on his shoulder startled him, and he looked up. The high-lord, like everyone else, was worried about him. About what he ate and drank, how much he slept and talked. He was regaining his mobility back little by little, but whatever time he could spend off the bed, he stood by your side.

Azriel willed himself to smile for his friend, his brother, but nothing came out.

“Thank you” he chose to say, for lack of better words. “For coming for us”

“Try to sleep”

The high-lord left with silent steps, Azriel watching each one of them. And when he was out of the room, only your quiet breaths breaking the silence, he promised himself he would find Koschei and burn him down to ashes.

You woke up two days later, and Azriel was almost fully healed by them. He still couldn’t fly or run, but his body was healing.

The first time you opened your eyes, he was in the kitchen for the third time since you came back. He felt your emotions through the bond and almost drained himself too when he winnowed back to your rooms.

For the next hours, Madja overwatched your recovery and gave you instructions about what to do now. Rest a lot, eat a lot, drink a lot. No big movements, no straining yourself, no powers. As if you would willingly use them again. No sex too, she declared with a sharp look at Azriel, who didn’t bother looking back. He listened to her instructions with neat attention and was close to kneeling before her in gratitude.

Once your friends had given you half-hugs and heartful apologies, you were left alone with Azriel. Madja hadn’t even left the floor when you tried to stand up.

“What do you need?” Azriel pushed your shoulders back with a scoff. “Madja told you to take it easy today. Don’t move until she comes back tonight. Do you need water? Food?”

“A hug would be nice”

You tried giving him a small smile and Azriel breathed through his nose. The tension on his shoulders dropped a little, his wings fluttering. After a second of consideration, he sat on the cushions next to you and dragged your body to his side. Any movement of his wings was painful and itchy, but he swallowed the discomfort and draped one across your back.

Your now bandaged hands fell on his chest, and the relief Azriel had let himself feel since you woke up died down.

Last night, he had finally opened to Cassian about what had happened. His brother had hugged him tightly, almost painfully, as Azriel cried onto his shoulder. The physical recovery would only be a part of a long journey, Madja had said that morning, before you woke up. What Azriel had endured in and out of that cell would haunt him for a while, but Azriel refused to let it take him away from you.

So, with a sharp breath, Azriel looked away from your hands to your beautiful eyes.

“You look good” you admitted. “How are you feeling?”

“Leg’s fine, nothing more than a medium limp now. Madja stitched it up and the skin has regenerated with her tonics. It feels… weird, but it’ll be alright” Azriel explained, eyes locked on yours. “And the wings will heal, too. I can’t promise you flights across the Sidra anytime soon, but Cassian can take you”

“You just lost half of your appeal” you chuckled.

The sound brought a smile to his lips. When you were with him, when he could stare into your eyes for hours in the safety of your home, he could pretend nothing had happened. A bad mission that had left him sore, not his worst nightmare come true.

With your head resting on his shoulder, you let the warmth of the morning heat your body. You were sore, too. Your back and arms hurt, your chest shook with each breath and your legs were cramped. Above all of that, you felt the crushing void of your power in your soul, restoring itself little by little.

Azriel seemed to know all of that from just staring at you, and his gaze saddened.

You had talked about that possibility before – about someone finding your powers, wanting to take advantages of them. When you first met him, it was political talk. The dangers of you staying in the court, the ways they could assure your protection, techniques to avoid you ever being noticed. As the years passed, those talks developed into feelings.

Into the fear of someone finding you and taking you away from Azriel.

You looked down to your lap and fidgeted with your fingers. The new skin felt strange against the bandages, but you didn’t complain. Not when his hand covered yours and he brushed a careful finger against the bandages.

“Don’t say it, Az” you sighed, feeling the apologies build in his mind. “It wasn’t your fault more than it was mine. I don’t blame you and that’s all. Please, don’t say it”

“I need to. Just one time” he admitted. “Let me say it one time, and you won’t hear it more. Let me get it out of my chest before the guilt consumes me”

You pressed your thumb and index finger together, stretching the bandage. You knew what he wanted to say, and you hated that he felt the need to apologize. Azriel had offered his life again and again in that cell for you without ever letting you argue against it, and would do it once more. But through the years, you had gotten to know him, and you understood that he needed that.

So you nodded without looking at him, and felt his chest widening in a breath.

“I am so, so sorry, because they did that because of me. Maybe they knew you wouldn’t let them touch me and were ready to…” his voice trailed and he silently pointed to your hands, not ready to say it. “And I’m sorry you had to use your power. I tried to shield you from it, my love. I’m so sorry I failed you”

Failed you

Long ago, when you first realized your feelings for the shadowsinger weren’t common, Azriel had made you the first promise. That he would keep you safe from the people who hurt you, that he wouldn’t let anyone force you to use your powers. Those had been empty promises, that you had needed in the dark nights of the first years.

Azriel had kept that promise, that impossible promise, during centuries. There had been others that had tried, people who knew about you and found where you were. And each and every threat was eliminated before they could reach you.

You knew that Azriel would have rather died in that cell that even think about you using your powers to free him. You thought briefly about the devastation on his face when he had realized what you had done, for him. It wasn’t disgust, or fear. It was self-disgust and failure on his part.

Shadows gathered around the bed when you looked at him once more, raising until you could look at him comfortably. His hand steadied you at your lower back, the other still holding yours. You didn’t need to shove your emotions down the bond, as they all were shining in your tearful eyes.

“I’m sorry too I wasn’t strong or brave enough to get us out sooner. That you had to get through all of that and he still knew” you confessed, trying to keep your voice loud and clear. “I’m sorry because I failed you too. I promised I would keep them hidden and I didn’t. Azriel, I would…”

You paused for a second, and let yourself soak in the love that seeped through his hazel eyes. He knew that, just as he couldn’t and wouldn’t blame you for that, you couldn’t and wouldn’t blame him. Love made you powerless, maybe reckless, but it was your love was the axis of his world.

A slow smile formed on your lips at the next words.

“I would have burnt that place and myself down for you. And there’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind”

“And I would have endured each beating for you too, with a smile on my face”

They were sad words, ones neither of you wanted to hear. But your love had gone through worst and would endure more. You were a dangerous person, not just for yourself but to others around you. Your powers drew a target on your back, and no matter how hard Azriel scrubbed, it wouldn’t go away.

And Azriel’s feelings, his devotion to you, would always put him at risk. Both you had learned to live with that and would continue to do so.

“I don’t expect you to keep every promise we make” you told him, squeezing his hand softly. “You promised me once that you would love me with your last breath and thought. And I promised you that you would hold my heart till the ends of times. That’s the only promise I care about”

Your wedding vows, made fifty years ago, brought tears to his eyes. He remembered his family gathered together for the event, the once in a lifetime feeling that rocked his body when he saw you walking down the altar in that beautiful dress. The words of the priestess were dull and incoherent as he looked at you, so beautiful and magnificent.

He had known by then that you would be his ending, that there would be no one after you. All that waiting had been worthy the moments he set his eyes on you, and each second by your side reaffirmed it.

Azriel leaned forward until you were inches away, your smiles matching.

“I promise you once more than I won’t ever stop loving you, my love, not even when my heart stop beating”

He closed the distance between your bodies and kissed you, closing another promise that he intended to keep, no matter what.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10

Promises to keep taglist:

@historygeekqueen

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urdepressedslut · 1 year

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Lovesick

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky is so in love with you it hurts, and he doesn’t know if he can keep his feelings locked away from you anymore.

♡ Warnings: light angst, hints to past suicide attempt, mentions of imprisonment, fluff, bucky being oblivious and adorable

“You’re staring again… Kinda creepy.” Sam mutters to Bucky, snapping him from his thoughts. Which were all of you of course.

Bucky glanced to Sam, smiling with red cheeks at being caught gazing upon you. But he couldn’t help himself. He was so in love with you, it hurt. He was lovesick, his thoughts consumed longing for you. The lack of emotionally and physically connecting with you eating away at him.

Sam smirked at Bucky getting lost in his thoughts again, glancing from him to you with a knowing look. Bucky wasn’t one to express how he felt, but he’d confessed, and Sam knew he was falling apart.

You had come from a rough past, growing and adapting slower than most. You were kept trapped away from any human interaction for five years, which resulted in you becoming a whole different person.

Fact was you didn’t remember who you were before, you had remembered the basics, your name, parents. But that was about it. You felt like you had started over in life, but along with a fresh start you had issues that lingered.

You had been given a second chance at life some would say, but it was a life that would be tainted, haunted with ghosts from your previous one. So was it really a fresh start?

You didn’t know.

You met Sam and Bucky soon after you’d been freed of isolation. They were shocked to find out you had used to be a well respected agent, before everything happened. Feeling terrible that all your training, hard work was thrown away, now having to start all over again. Some was muscle memory, an instinct that never left you. But you found yourself re-training with the two. You found yourself healing slowly in the company of them. Of course you’d grown attached, and so did they. The three of you stuck together, a deep bond having formed.

While you and Sam had more of a sibling bond, there was something extensive about you and Bucky. He was able to empathize with you, knowing full well how badly you’d suffered, and that was something you’d grown to appreciate. Having someone able to relate, was reliving in a weird way, made you feel less alone.

Bucky had immediately liked you, admiring your strength, finding your kindness infectious. You were a rare pure soul, that didn’t deserve the suffering you’d endured. At first glance he was protective, his mother-like instinct kicking in at the sight of your skittish form.

Months had gone by, and you were doing much better. You were still a little slow, and you became overwhelmed quicker. You were to be treated with a little more care than most. Nevertheless, Sam and Bucky were proud of how far you’ve come.

“You should tell her.” Sam startled Bucky from his thoughts once again, looking over at him with a hesitant expression.

“I don’t know man… I don’t wanna pressure her. She’s been doing so well, I don’t wanna jump the gun and freak her out.” Bucky rambled on, anxiety clouding his mind.

“You aren’t going to freak her out, she loves you Buck. I can tell.” Sam assured him, no teasing tone lingering.

“You can’t know that. Have you talked to her?” Bucky wondered.

“No, but it’s hard not to think otherwise with the way she looks at you.” Sam pointed out.

“How— how does she look at me?” Bucky pushed, not believing he could be that oblivious.

Sam on the other hand, thought he was completely oblivious.

“Seriously Buck? Are you missing your eyes too?” Sam asked incredulously, “She looks at you like you’re her whole world.”

Bucky thought back to the days he’d caught you glancing at him and Sam.

“She looks at you like that too.” Bucky argued.

“It’s different… I’m like a big brother she’s never had,” Sam stated, “Then you… It’s different.”

Bucky took in Sam’s words, and he couldn’t deny that yes, you and Bucky had an amazing friendship. But he was afraid that’s all it was. His chest ached at the thought that you wouldn’t want to be something more with him.

Bucky was about to respond, when Sam interrupted him, grabbing him by his shoulder.

“Your girl is looking this way.” Sam told him, motioning his head to you.

Bucky glanced to you, his eyes meeting with yours. You were holding his gaze, your eyes warm and glowing. It’s like he had never seen it before, but now that he was gazing into your orbs, he felt like your eyes were saying a million words. It was giving him hope, that you might feel the same way.

Bucky excused himself from Sam, heading towards you. Getting closer he was careful not to interrupt the little girl talking with you, the sight making Bucky watch with fondness.

“My friend is being mean to me!” The little girl whined, crossing her arms with a huff.

“Oh, well that’s not okay. Where’s your friend?” You asked, ready to scold a kid for being rude to this sweet girl.

“She’s standing right next to you.” The little girl said as if it was obvious.

Your eyes widened slightly in horror, and glanced to either side of you, furrowing your brows in confusion when you saw no one.

“She is?” You asked her, receiving a nod, “Uh… I don’t see her.”

The little girl started laughing and you faked a smile, scratching the back of your neck.

“No one can see her, she’s invisible.” She told you with a wide grin.

You understood immediately what she was saying, and felt embarrassed that you hadn’t caught on. You weren’t used to hanging around kids, and you weren’t really good at talking to them.

“Of course, how could I forget?” You asked the girl playfully, trying to will your cheeks back to normal color.

Luckily for you, the little girl’s attention span had her running away to a group of kids, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Why did that interaction stress you out so much?

Bucky’s face hurt from how much he was smiling, but he couldn’t help it watching you talk with the little girl. Something about seeing you with kids had his stomach full of butterflies. You made him feel like a nervous school boy with a crush.

“Hey doll, making some friends?” Bucky teased you, and you met his gaze, smiling warmly at him.

“I think so, the kids are adorable.” You told him, the kids even though they were difficult sometimes, they were precious.

“You seem good with kids.” Bucky acknowledged.

“Oh not at all, I was actually very nervous. I feel like I talk to kids like they’re dumb sometimes… And I don’t mean it— Of course not, I just don’t have like any experience with kids.” You rambled on, while Bucky thought you were adorable.

“Well, don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re better with kids then I am.” He admitted, though the kids he’d seen today had taking a liking to him, which warmed his heart.

It was quiet for a moment, the two of you taking in each other’s company. Then you thought of a random question.

“Have you ever wanted kids of your own?” You asked him, your question taking him by surprise.

Bucky hadn’t always thought of the idea, but he found his mind wandering towards the idea more, ever since he’d gotten close with you. Though he assumed it was impossible, maybe back in the 40’s. But after everything that had happened with HYDRA, he wasn’t sure if his body was physically able to.

“Never really thought about it.” He lied, “You?”

“I’ve never really gave it much thought either, but it would be cool to have a mini-me running around.” You admitted, though the overall idea of kids terrified you.

Bucky smiled at the idea of a miniature you, the idea warming his heart.

“Uh, so actually… I wanted to talk to you doll.” Bucky started, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“We are talking Buck.” You said with a giggle, the sound giving Bucky butterflies.

“No no,” He chuckled, “I mean about something kinda serious. Something that I need to get off my chest.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the word serious, watching his playful expression slowly fade.

“Oh? Is everything okay?” You asked him, growing concerned.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine. I just wanna talk.” He assured you, calming you with his genuine expression. "Come on, let's go on Sam's boat."

Bucky grabbed your hand, helping you stand. The two of you walked onto the boat.

You immediately started fiddling around with the helm of the boat, pretending to be at sea. Bucky watched with heart eyes, leaning against the doorway.

“You know…” He started, getting your attention, “I’m super proud of you. For how far you’ve come.”

You smiled at his praise.

“Wouldn’t be here without you.” You told him truthfully, he was your rock. Sam too of course. But Bucky was special.

“I’m always gonna be here to help ya, but you gotta give yourself some credit.” He stated.

“I do…” You started to argue.

“(Y/n)…”

“No I do,” You trailed off, getting serious all of a sudden, “But sometimes I think back when things were pretty bad and… Well you were there. I really do mean it— I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Bucky immediately knew what you were talking about, and he cursed his mind for remembering the haunting image so vividly. You had been at a very low point in your recovery, and you tried taking yourself out of this world. His world. His hands clinging onto your crimson covered wrists was an eye opener, that he didn’t want to live in a world where you didn’t exist. The very thought horrifying him to his core, his body frozen with dread.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bring it up I just—”

“No no, don’t apologize doll,” His voice wavered, “Just hate that you ever felt that way is all.”

Despite rehashing over rough memories, you couldn’t help your chest from feeling warm, seeing Bucky care so much about you, had you feeling fuzzy. He had been so protective over you since that day, and some would call it overbearing, but you found yourself feeling safe. You knew Bucky would stop anyone from even blowing a breath of air your way if that meant you’d be in danger.

Bucky recognized that warm glow in your eyes again, as you gazed into his. He took a deep breath, seeing as this was his best chance.

“(Y/n), I like you… A lot.“ He rushed out, and you were still smiling, no shock shown on your face.

“I like you a lot too Buck.” You shot back, stepping away from the helm and closer to him.

“You— Really?” He wondered if this was all his imagination.

Sam was right? Psh, no way.

“Really Buck. I’m not good at expressing emotions— feelings, or any of that stuff. But I do know that I always want to be with you, I always want you around, even if we aren’t talking to each other. Just knowing you’re near is enough.” You confessed, hoping that what you said made sense.

By the look on Bucky’s face, you assumed you said just the right thing.

“Doll, I’m crazy about you. You’ve got me wrapped around your tiny little finger, I’m yours.” He told you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest.

“Buck?” You whispered, cupping his face with your small hands, feeling him lean into your touch.

“Yes doll?” He whispered back, looking at you like you were his entire world.

Well, because you were.

“I think I love you.” You told him shyly, your cheeks reddening.

Bucky’s heart nearly gave out at your words, but he couldn’t help the overwhelming rush of joy that your confession had given him.

“I think I love you too doll.”

A/N: my ideas come to me at the most random times, this one came to me a couple days ago while I was eating cereal 🥴🤷🏻‍♀️

#reader insert #marvel imagines #buckybarnes #oneshot #imagine #light angst #fluff #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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thatfanficstuff · 2 months

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Color My World - Haldir (LOTR)

Pairing: Haldir x soulmate!reader

warnings: nothing beyond canon

The forest of Lothlorien loomed before a weary band of travelers, known to some as the Fellowship. Their steps were heavy with exhaustion, a mantle of grief weighing them down. Their companion, the wizard Gandalf, had fallen mere hours before. But they didn’t have time to stop, to allow their hearts a moment to heal. The orcs would come and the group needed to be safely within the depths of the forest before they did.

You walked beside Frodo in the middle of the group, your eyes darting between taking in the beauty around you and keeping an eye on your companions. Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy above you, bathing the world in golden rays. Even the bark of the trees glittered faintly with hints of gold. You could only imagine how stunning it would be if you had already met your soulmate. All the muted, faded colors you saw would be bright and vivid. You never wished for it more than at moments like this.

“Can you feel the trees watching us?” Frodo’s voice, barely above a murmur, broke the fragile silence.

You placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “There have been eyes on us since we stepped foot in the forest, little hobbit.”

He looked up in surprise and you squeezed gently as you gave him a soft smile. “No worries. All be fine.”

“Thank you for being here,” he said, his tone hovering between gratitude and fear.

“We all have our purposes in this life, Frodo Baggins. Mine is make sure you complete yours.”

As you continued, you ignored Gimli’s talk of elven sorceresses and enchantments. You were too focused on the force gathering along the edges of your senses. The elves had sent a welcoming party. Of a sort.

Suddenly and almost silently, the Fellowship was surrounded. Elves with arrows drawn in you and your companions faces. With an arched brow you stepped in front of Frodo and pushed the arrow aside that was nearly brushing your nose. Ridiculous. Arrows did much more damage if they had a little room to move.

“The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark,” a rich voice said as the most beautiful man you’d ever seen addressed Aragorn. The elf observed your group, taking each of you in. When his gaze met your own, he lingered ever so slightly before turning back to the king. “Why do you enter the woods of the Lady of Light?”

The quiet words stoked something deep inside you, a yearning that had followed you your whole life. A cascade of vibrant color burst forth with the marchwarden at its center. Greens deepened into a multitude of shades. The golden undertones of the trees shimmered with new life.

As he and Aragorn spoke, every syllable from his lips only brought more beauty to your world. And every word bound your soul more tightly to his. You wove your fingers together, a poor effort at self-restraint as you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze from his profile. You’d heard so many stories of this elf and now, seeing him in person, he was everything you could ever desire in a mate. And he was far too important for someone like you. Finally, you tore your eyes away as he turned to lead the Fellowship deeper into the trees.

You weren’t certain how far you walked or how many stairs you climbed before you were greeted by the ethereal presence of Celeborn and Galadriel. You half listened to the conversation about the fate of your wizard as your attention kept flicking over to Haldir who stood to the side looking straight ahead. It felt odd that you were so connected to him and he didn’t even know you existed. That he knew nothing of your bond. It was for the best, you knew that, but it didn’t make your heart hurt any less.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned your head to find Galadriel looking at you though she spoke to the Fellowship as a whole. You bit back a gasp as you heard her lyrical voice in your head. “Within these woods, bonds deeper than the roots of the mallorn trees are forged. You have felt the stirring of such a bond, child of the outside world. Your connection with Haldir is stronger than you know. An intertwining of souls, a sharing of strengths. Together, you harbor magic that will aid you on your quest.”

“Magic?” you thought back.

Rather than answering, the corner of her lips curled into a knowing smile and she gave you a small nod. “When you need it the most, it will be there,” she said aloud. Your companions frowned in confusion but you ignored their questions as Haldir showed all of you to where you would be spending the evening.

You managed to leave the elves without Haldir finding out who you were to him. Your friends found it odd that you refused to speak louder than a whisper until you were well on your way down the river but you simply waved off their questions. It was better this way. No matter how utterly alone you suddenly felt.

Days turned into weeks. Frodo and Sam had gone off on their own. Boromir had fallen. Gandalf had returned. And now you stood with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli at Helm’s Deep alongside an army made up mostly of old men and boys. Hope was fleeting that most of you would make it through the night. Gandalf had told you to look for him at the dawn but that was many hours away.

You stood on the wall watching a storm roll in while the others prepared themselves for battle. You’d taken care of that hours ago. A horn blasting drew your attention. Elven archers marched toward the keep. You grinned, feeling hope for the first time in days. The smile fell as you saw who was leading them. Haldir. He wasn’t supposed to be here. It was too dangerous. He was supposed to be safe in Lothlorien.

You watched Aragorn greet him, Legolas by his side. Haldir glanced up when they finished, his gaze finding yours. He studied your face for a moment before nodding a greeting. You nodded in return then slipped away into the crowd, making sure the rabble were as prepared as possible for the coming attack.

While Aragorn moved through the ranks of elves on the wall, you stood with Legolas and Gimli. The hordes of orcs and Uruk-hai approached, banging weapons on the ground as they came. You rested a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder trying to calm him as he bounced around. “Steady on,” you told him as you prepared your bow.

And then they came in a flood of anger and teeth. Chaos reigned around you as you slashed and dodged. Rain fell in heavy drops as lightning flashed in the sky and thunder roared. You focused solely on the opponents around you until King Theoden called for a retreat to the inner walls. Aragorn grabbed your arm and pulled you along as he yelled for the men to fall back. When he turned and yelled Haldir’s name, you turned with him.

Haldir acknowledged the order a breath before he was surrounded by iron and hate. A blade stabbed toward him even as he cut the wielder down.

Heat surged through your veins as fear swamped you. You unleashed your fury with a cry torn from the very depths of your soul. The world seemed to slow as a shimmering shield surrounded your soulmate, deflecting the blade that would have run him through. His eyes found yours, wide with astonishment.

You ignored Aragorn calling your name as newfound strength flowed through you. You weaved through the melee, each step bringing you closer to Haldir’s side. Finally, you reached him and helped dispatch the orcs that swarmed him. When there was an opening for you to move, you grabbed the breastplate of his armor and pulled him toward the stairs. “Move, Marchwarden.”

The battle was over after a last minute save from the Rohirrim and the Ents. As soon as you had a moment to breathe a breath you weren’t convinced would be your last, Haldir grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side where you could have some semblance of privacy.

His hands cradled your face as his thumbs traced your cheeks. He looked you over with wonder.

“Why did you say nothing when first we met?” he asked. “Why keep your connection to me hidden?”

You grasped his wrists in your hands. “If the bond was complete, formed on both sides, what would happen to you if I died on this quest?”

The silence stretched as he studied you. “A partial truth at best, hiril vuin.” (my lady)

You sighed and looked away from him, unable to meet his eye as you confessed. “I did not wish to be a burden upon you. I feared the revelation would be a disappointment.”

He ran his thumbs along your skin again to bring your attention back to him. “You are the furthest cry from a disappointment. Your courage, your strength, your heart…they are gifts more precious than the rarest jewels of my people.”

You searched for any signs of deception from him. Finding none, a smile crossed your face. He mirrored it before leaning forward to press his lips to yours. It took only a moment before you returned the gesture with equal fervor.

For a moment, you could forget about your quest. Forget about the death that surrounded you. Because here in the midst of so many endings, was your beginning and you intended to hold onto it with all of your heart.

#haldir x reader #haldir fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #haldir x soulmate #lotr soulmate au #soulmate au

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boiohboii · 4 months

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The people's sweethearts Ch.III

(Tom Holland x f!verstappen!reader x Zendaya)

Soulmate au

YN Verstappen had been through hell, by her own father, for something she didn't even ask for. She grew up learning that she should hate what was given to her, after all it was the reason her father was always angry with her. So what should she do when the one thing she learned to hate is the one thing that brings her love, safe and comfort that not even her older brother can compare.

WARNING: not proof read, Jos Verstappen (worsned like 10 times for this fic) poly relationship, derogatory terms by father, abusive father. If I missed anything else please let me know

ChII

masterlist

Will they blister and heal over like the last time or will they bleed for days on end and leave scars?

That was yn's first thought as soon as she heard the words of Christian Horner, and with how Max was looking at her, he had similar thoughts as well, which is quite saddening.

When Max first met Kelly, his first thought wasn't how bad his punishment would be, and he hated that this was what yn's thinking about as soon as she saw one of her soulmates. Her thoughts should've been on how she will spend their first date, on when she will get to meet her other soulmate, on how much her face hurts from smiling and her heart feels like it will leap out of her chest from joy.

And although both of them try not to cross paths with their father they still end up meeting him, he still comes by yn's University, which is something that always scares her, not knowing what her father's next move is, where will his hand leave a mark this time. Has she told Max of it? Not really, Max doesn't know the extent of which Jos still treats yn, all he knows is that sometimes Jos visits her at her university whenever he allows it, whenever he is there with her, ready to protect her from the harsh words and actions of Jos Verstappen. Max doesn't know that sometimes Jos visits when he isn't there, that yn goes with him to his flat. Whenever she'd try to tell Max he'd look at her with such tenderness, like she's so innocent and had never seen what she had, that she doesn't gather enough courage to tell him- thinking that maybe if he knew, he'd never perceive her the same way, he'd just get tired and angry of her self harmming ways, that he'd leave her behind because after everything he had done for her, to keep her safe and happy, she keeps going back to Jos, she keeps listening to him and hearing out his lame, repetitive excuses.

"Umm, hi."

Yn's thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice, her soulmate's soft voice.

"Mr Holland, hello."

Max was the one to reply, he knew that his sister's mind is a mess.

"Oh please, just- just Tom is fine, Max," an awkward silence filled the air, making Tom more nervous by the millisecond "is it okay to call you Max?"

Max smiles at the actor, "yeah, of course, you're older than me anyway."

"Oh, yeah, right." Clearing his throat, Tom looked at yn hoping she'd be the one to offer for the two of them to be alone.

"Right, so," seeing his soulmate avoid his eyes hurt, it hurt so much that he could feel his nose burning and his eyes watering "I was wondering if I could speak with my soulmate."

Even with tears in his eyes and a heavy heart he kept looking at her, urging her in his mind to just look at him, to stop the poisonous thoughts from creeping into his mind telling him to prepare himself for a rejection, to prepare himself to cope with the feeling of a missing soul, to prepare himself to tell Zendaya of how her soulmate rejected her without even meeting her.

Now, Tom doesn't have any sisters, but he'd like to imagine that if he had one he'd treat her like how Max Verstappen is treating Yn. He'd turn to her with the softest look in his eyes and a comforting face, asking her if she's okay to be left with her soulmate (he tried not to let this hurt him too much), asking her if she wants to be alone or if she'd rather have him besides her.

"It's okay," he could barely hear her feathery voice over the bustling paddock "I want to speak with him alone."

And with just one sentence Tom felt like screaming at the top of his lungs, he felt the colors becoming more vivid around him and his heart becoming lighter; maybe it won't end as bad as he imagined.

"Hi."

Her voice was so small, she sounded so fragile, almost scared.

"Um, hi, hello" Tom breathed out, mesmerised by his final piece "I didn't ask for your name."

"Oh, right," clearing her throat yn finally met his eyes "yn. I'm yn verstappen."

"Yn," God why did her name sound so pretty coming from his lips

"it's nice, no, wonderful to meet you. I've been looking to this day my entire life."

"Well, I'm here." Yn shrugged her shoulder as she showed him the palms of her hands, looking like she paused in the middle of making that one silly jazz movement

"Yeah, yeah, you're really here."

"How would you-"

"Can I ask-"

Their voices stopped at the same time, allowing the other person to talk, but neither did which was why they were sitting in such an awkward silence.

"Please go ahead."

"Right," yn started "I am not going to lie to you, I am not sure about this."

"This?" His eyebrows creased as his lips turned downwards, trembling as his voice cracked, he sounded so broken, he looked on the verge of tears, she feared that if she uttered another word that he'd cry, but she had to, he has to hate her, he eventually will so the earlier the better for her.

"The whole soulmate thing, I can't handle this." Her heart clenched as she said those words, her fists clenching the black fabric of her dress at her knees, holding itself back from caressing the brit's face, from gently wiping away his tears and from kissing his forehead as she utters all the apologies and all the loving words she wishes she could say.

Yn would be lying if she said that she hadn't dreamt of this day, she used to stay up all night on weekdays imagining what it would be like to meet her soulmates, what would it be like to see the other parts of her soul, to look in their eyes and to tell them that she's ready, that she's with them forever, but she can't, as long as jos verstappen is in her life she can't see herself in a good light, all she thinks of is how much of a disappointment she was to her mother, how much of a disappointment she is for her father, and how much of a disappointment she will be to max as soon as he figures out what she does behind his back.

No one would love her, why would they love a person like her? A person who never wants to go anywhere, a person who is afraid of everything and everyone, she's always afraid of her own father- how could she possibly explain that to her soulmates, she's a person who will not be loved because she is not worthy of being loved, it's quite sad and unfair but that's the unfortunate truth- the fact that no one will ever love her and no one will ever miss her is yn's unfortunate truth.

"Why?" Tom questions as he looks through his tear filled eyes "why not?"

"I-" yn failed to come up with a fake, reasonable excuse because she doesn't want that. She doesn't want to reject her soulmate, all her life she had done things because she is afraid of her father, and it's not like she could just dump that on her soulmate on their first meeting after rejecting him "Can you accept that I just can't?"

"No, no, I can not accept that!" Tom's tone got a little too lough for his liking, clearing his throat he kept his voice in check "don't ask me to accept that you don't want me, that you don't want zendaya before you even got to know us, you haven't even met zendaya yet!"

Yn's tears got the best of her, quickly forming in her eyes and then in seconds they were streaming down her face.

"I can't, I just really can't," yn started as she tried to wipe off her tears, only for her vision to be more blurry and for even more tears to end up on her cheeks "I can't, and I know that it's unfair, I want to but I can't and I can't explain it to you because it's none of your business"

"But it is," even with all of the frustration in him, Tom made sure that he sounds reassuring and calm "it is my business because my soulmate said that she wants something, she wants me; us, but she's not saying why and I have to understand. I will understand, so please, just tell me, explain it to me," Tom moved closer to yn, stopping her palms from furiously rubbing her eyes and cheeks with his hand engulfing hers, yn could feel his skin on her cheeks "I want to understand."

Looking into his eyes, yn could feel herself calm down, the tears drying and her vision clearer "what if I don't want to? At least, not until zendaya is here?"

"Of course she'll be here, she really wants to meet you.

"She knows?"

"Well," moving his thumbs into a a Z shape onto the back of her hand Tom smiled at his younger soulmate "kinda. How about she explains it when she gets here in a few weeks, after you explain, yeah? How about the next GP, would you be ok with that?"

"Yeah, I think- I think I'd like that."

NEXT CHAPTER

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 #tom holland x oc #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #zendaya x reader #zenday coleman #zendaya #zendaya x oc #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen sister #verstappen reader #max verstappen x sister reader

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withlovefics · 1 year

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How they would react to you saying "I can't do anything right" aloud.

Characters: Gyōmei, Shinobu, and Sanemi

Content Warnings: talk about negative self worth, low self esteem, and swearing.

Gender-neutral reader ♥︎

Word Count: 968 words

Himejima Gyōmei: 241 words

You were attempting to meditate with him, but your mind kept wandering though and you began to get frustrated with yourself.

Beside you oblivious to your inner turmoil was Gyōmei.

You kept fidgeting, moving slightly, as you kept trying to quiet your mind, but it felt impossible.

"Y/N what's wrong?" Gyōmei asked as he turned his body towards you.

You sighed deeply, frustration lacing that breath you exhaled.

"I can't seem to do anything right I mean I can't even meditate!" You exclaimed and pushed your hands to your eyes. You felt like crying, but you didn't want to.

Gyōmei gently reached his hands, his hands engulfing yours, as he pulled your hands away.

"Y/N please don't say this about yourself. Please don't be so hard on yourself. You can do so many good things. You say you can't do anything right, but I disagree. You may not be perfect at everything, but no one is perfect at everything."

You felt his tears falling onto your clasped hands. You stared at the ground and felt tears of your own.

"Y/N look at me please." You slowly lifted your head to look at him.

Gyōmei smiled at you, "You mean so much to me, and I don't want you to talk to yourself that way. I know because I say that you won't stop thinking that. Next time you think that or say that I want you to come to me please."

Kochō Shinobu: 287 words

You sat anxiously on the bed, kicking your feet back and forth. Shinobu was bandaging your wounds from the last mission you were on.

"Please stop moving Y/N, I can't bandage you up if you keep moving," Shinobu told you.

You huffed, turning your head to the side. "If I hadn't messed up you wouldn't have needed to bandage me."

"What did you just say?" She asked, and you didn't notice how she gripped the gauze tighter. Her eye twitched, and you didn't notice her angry gaze.

"If I hadn't messed up you wouldn't need to bandage me! I can't do anything right!" You exclaim before flopping onto your back.

You dramatically put your arm over your eyes and tried to calm your breathing you didn't want her to see you cry.

Meanwhile, Shinobu was about to beat you up for saying that about yourself.

"Why do you say that Y/N?" She asks with a head tilt.

"I always seem to get hurt I'm not as strong as the other-" Shinobu interrupts you by placing a hand on your face.

"I really won't tolerate you talking negatively about yourself."

You look at her befuddled and pissed. It was the truth, you thought to yourself.

"Sure you may get hurt but I'll always be here to help you recover and heal. Everyone gets hurt during missions. And you say you're not strong enough is an insult to me." Shinobu told you firmly while making direct eye contact that made you squirm some.

You sheepishly looked away at the ground.

"We all get hurt Y/N. I really don't like you to say those things about yourself." She soothingly rubbed your hands. "Please Y/N, try not to say that again."

Shinazugawa Sanemi: 440 words

You and Sanemi were sparring again. The sun beat down hard on your back, and you felt like a puddle, but here was Sanemi... All ready for another sparring round. That fucker.

You sighed as you sluggishly moved into stance. You guys were on your 4th training sword!

You squinted your eyes and groaned. Exhaustion hits you like a brick. While you tried to dig deep to find any energy within your body or soul, Sanemi began to charge at you.

You jumped to the side barely, managing to miss his strike.

"You're not supposed to dodge Y/N!" He yelled at you.

"I'm already covered in bruises and cuts from you I don't want any more!" You yelled back at him as he moved to try and hit you again.

You managed to block him and parried; for a few minutes. You had only been able to beat him once. You aren't a hashira like him.

You let out a groan as your back hit the ground. Sanemi had knocked your legs out from under you using his sword.

You didn't budge at all and just closed your eyes. "Come on, get back up," Sanemi said staring down at you. You didn't move, and Sanemi huffed. He sighed and bent down his hand ready for you to grab. "Fuck. Come on Y/N we'll take a break. Let me help you back up."

You sighed and just shook his head. "I'm tired. I don't want to move." You said and just closed your eyes.

"Come on. What you're sulking about me kicking your butt? Come on." Sanemi said smirking at you, he grabbed one of your arms and pulled you up. You sighed and trailed after him as he pulled you into the house.

You sulked and stared down at the ground, you felt tears falling down your face. "I can't do anything right." You mumbled to yourself. You were so disappointed in yourself, and you couldn't believe how bad you were against Sanemi.

"What the fuck did you say?" You turned and saw Sanemi with wide eyes. He grabbed your face and smushed you. "What did you fucking say?"

You felt like crying more. "I..." You stuttered.

"Don't fucking say that about yourself. Don't ever fucking say that again." Sanemi said leaning closer to you.

"But I couldn't even beat you more than once. I can't do anything right!" You exclaimed, tears falling more.

"Y/N please don't fucking compare yourself to me. You have your own talents, and today was just training. Please, Y/N you mean the world to me. You don't have to compare yourself to me or anyone."

I hope you like this! Sanemi's character may be a little out of character. I'll probably write how other characters would react because writing this is really comforting to me.

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jensengirl83 · 7 months

Text

Heart Of Stone

Dean x reader

Word Count- 1630

Warnings- Angst, Self-loathing Dean (yes, that's a warning 😂), A little fluff

A/N- This fills my "Unexpected Touch" square for @jacklesversebingo

Dean woke with a start, his body and pajamas drenched in sweat. Another nightmare, another sleepless night. You’d think with everything he’s seen in his life, he’d be used to them. But, he has to take deep breaths and try to still his racing heart every time, ground himself to keep from panicking. He hates it. Hates how, after all these years, his fears still plague him.

This dream was different than the usual nightmares. It wasn’t the faces of all the people he couldn’t save or the monsters that had tried to end him. No, this one was worse. It was about her, and those are the worst. He can handle the trauma that comes with his job and take the guilt and sadness that comes with it, calm himself, and push it down. But, when it comes to the nightmares about her, he can’t.

Y/N had carved her way into his heart the last few months, whether he wanted her to or not. She meant so much to him. Just the thought of her smiling face or the brightness in her eyes when she spoke to him always calmed his nerves. Hell, who’s he kidding? She soothed his soul. But she would never know that. She couldn’t. Dean wasn’t the kind of man that deserved a woman as good as her. As much as he wanted to be selfish, open himself up to her, let her in, and let her start to heal him, he wouldn’t. She didn’t deserve to be dragged down by his self-loathing, insecurities, or the inevitable misery that would come with being with him. No, as much as he wanted to be a man she deserved, a man worthy of her love, he wasn’t and never would be. So, as with everything thing else, he’ll push his feelings down and bury them deep.

As he sat on his bed, back against the headboard, his mind swirling with all the negative thoughts, a soft knock on his door made him jump. He would know that sound anywhere. It was Y’N’s knock. Yes, he had it so bad for her that he could differentiate her knuckles on his door from everyone else’s. He sighed, running his hand down his face, and tried to calm himself before she entered his room.

“Come in,” his shaky voice echoed through the silence.

“I thought I heard you scream. Are you okay?” she asked as she peeked around the door. Her hair falling around her face out of her messy bun made him smile softly. Damn, she was beautiful.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” she smirked, walking into the room and putting her hand on her hip.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to her. She always saw right through him, which made her more endearing and infuriated him simultaneously. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. She wasn’t going anywhere, so he might as well tell her the truth. Well, half-truth. She didn’t need to know that he had a nightmare about her. How he had allowed himself to have her, just to watch her die bloody.

“I had a bad dream. Nothing to worry about. You can go back to bed.”

“Dean…” she sighed, walking over to sit beside him, taking his big hand in hers, “You do know you can talk to me. You don’t always have to go through everything alone. It’s okay to let someone be there for you every now and then.”

“I know, but I’m fine. Honestly,” he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, the tell-tell crinkles by his eyes not there. She knew he was faking it, and she wasn’t leaving until he talked to her. He was always there for everyone he cared about, shouldering the majority of everything, and he deserved to be cared for this time.

“Let me take care of you for once. You don’t have to be the tough guy all the time,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek in her small hand, caressing it with her thumb as her other hand entwined with his.

His breath caught in his throat, heart racing, as he stared at her. The unexpectedness of her soft touch had surprised him, thrown him off guard, and he was frozen. His head and his heart were in a battle with each other. His mind telling him to back away, to leave now, and to end it before it can go any further. On the other hand, his heart screamed at him to stay, pull her to him, kiss her, and tell her how much he loved her. Casting his eyes down, he tried to decide whether to run or remain where he was when she spoke.

“Dean, look at me,” she pleaded, and when he didn’t look up, she slid her hand from his cheek to his chin, lifting his face to look him in the eyes.

“Y’N, don’t, please,” he whimpered, his willpower slowly chipping away as she stared at him, the longing in her eyes breaking his heart. Because all he wanted was her, to take her in his arms, but he couldn’t. She deserved so much more than a man like him could ever give her.

“No, Dean, you don’t. If I’m wrong, please correct me, but I’ve seen how you look at me. How your eyes follow me when I’m in the room, the longing in them when you think I’m not looking. I know this because that’s how I look at you. If you haven’t noticed, I want you, and I think you want me too,” she admitted, her voice trembling with the anxiousness of how he would respond. She doesn’t know if she can handle his rejection.

“It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Yes, it does, Dean. It matters just as much as what everyone else wants. You deserve happiness, too.”

“I’m not a good man, sweetheart-” he began to speak, but she cut him off.

“That’s bullshit! You’re the best man I know!” she shouted, her frustration with his self-doubt spilling out.

“It’s not. You want the truth? I hate what I see when I look in the mirror; hate the man that’s staring back at me. You see these hands?” he lifted his hands, turning them around for her to see, “They’ve killed people, Y/N. There’s a dark side to me. You’re telling me that’s a man you want to be with? Because you deserve more, so much more.”

“Dean…” she whimpered, his words breaking her heart. How could he not see what everyone else sees? “First, you don’t get to decide what I want or deserve. And second, you want to know what I see when I look at you? I see a man who raised his little brother to be an incredible man. I see a man who puts everyone above him, no matter what, always putting himself last to make sure everyone else is taken care of. And these hands, all I see are hands that are cut, calloused, and scarred because he puts himself in danger daily to make sure others are safe, people who will never even know what he sacrifices for them. I don’t see that as a bad man, Dean. I see a man who deserves more than he will ever believe he does, and if you will let me, I want to be the one to prove it to you. You’re an amazing man, Dean. Please stop selling yourself short of what you want, and especially what you deserve. And that Dean Winchester is the world, and I want to give that to you.”

“I can’t, Y/N. I can’t. What if something happened to you because you were with me? What if my nightmares come true?” he choked on his words, the thought of losing her bringing tears to his eyes.

“Is that what you dreamt? That something happened to me?” she asked softly, placing her hand back on his cheek. He nodded as he leaned into her touch, finally allowing himself to feel and enjoy how her palm held him just right as a tear finally escaped and rolled down his face.

“That’s why I can’t. I couldn’t make it if something happened to you.”

“Dean, something could happen to me going to the grocery store, a hunt, or I could slip and crack my head open taking a shower,” she chuckled.

“That’s not funny,” he grumbled, turning further into her touch.

“It’s the truth. Anything could happen to either of us at any time. So, why would you let that stop us from having what we want? Why not enjoy what time we do have together?”

“I don’t know how to be in a relationship, Y/N. The one time I tried, it blew up in my face.”

“Then how about we learn together? We’ll take it slow. Learn how to let go of our fears, the things we can’t change, and love each other the way that works for us,” she smiled, leaning in to gauge his reaction, and when he didn’t pull away, she pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. A kiss to let him know that she was and would always be there and would take care of him how he deserved to be.

And that night would be the beginning of something wonderful that he had never thought he could ever have. A relationship with a woman who loved him for him and accepted him and all his flaws. Over time, she had done what he thought was impossible. She had broken through and shattered the walls he had around what he thought was a heart of stone.

@flamencodiva @foxyjwls007 @valsworldofcreativity @hardcoresupernaturalfans @msmarvelouswinchester @lyarr24 @akshi8278 @hobby27 @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @squirrelnotsam @tatted-trina6 @xhannahbananax03 @coffeebooksandfandom @deans-baby-momma @lovelyrocker @fablesrose @maralisa124 @aimee-ginge @donnaintx @screechingartisancashbailiff @itsdesiree86 @kyjey @roxytheimmortal @briagallen @aubageddon91 @stoneyggirl2 @kitkatd7 @brilovesdeanwinchester @allonsy-yesiwill @krazykelly @rebelemilu @sarahbaker2010 @tyferbebe @metalfangirl @redbarn1995 @thoughts-and-funnies @izzathequeen @heavensangel45135 @entersand-man @supraveng @bobbie3939 @pink-sparkly-witch @thelastpyle @nancymcl @samsgirl93 @maliburenee @marvelouslyme96 @senjoritanana

#jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural family #spn famdom #dean x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #spn fiction #spn fanfic #spnfandom

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lorelaiblair · 2 months

Text

imagine knowing a girl your entire life, growing up together, trusting her with everything that you are. spending sleepovers crying in her arms because your dad left, your sister left, your mom became an alcoholic, she cries to you about how her own parents never pay her any attention, how they’re never home and she’s always left alone in a huge ass house that feels haunted with the home that it was supposed to be.

you have horror movie marathons together, you live in her house when her parents aren’t home and your mom is to busy drowning herself in booze than spending any time with you, you cook dinners and breakfasts together, you keep an extra inhaler in her room.

somewhere along the way you fall in love with her.

somewhere along the way she meets a man on the internet, he is too old for her, he is creepily obsessed with a horror movie franchise, he grooms her.

they decide together that they want to make their own movie, in doing this the girl that you love betrays you and everyone else who you have ever cared about.

she tries to murder you.

she tries to kill you.

she tries to kill your sister, she kills multiple of your friends.

she says horrible things, you don’t even recognize her.

the girl you fell in love with.

you are forced to kill her.

if you hadn’t she would have kept killing, could have hurt your sister.

you loved her.

she betrayed you.

you love her.

you killed her.

you leave the town you grew up in with your sister and only two friends who are still alive. you move to new york and you shove down your feelings.

your best friend died.

you killed her.

she was a serial killer.

she was everything to you.

are you allowed to mourn? are you allowed to miss her? are you allowed to move on?

how can you move on?

how could you ever trust anyone ever again?

you miss her. so much it hurts, you feel the hole she left in your heart, worse then the literal holes in your hand and stomach. those healed.

the hole she left in your soul might be permanent.

permanently lacking her presence, permanently missing the sound of her laugh, her voice as she whispered reassurances into your hair, her smile as she teased you and your friends.

your friend mourns his girlfriend, an innocent, his lover, his friend.

your have feelings for him?

how fucking confusing is that?

you loved, you are still in love with, the woman who murdered his girlfriend.

you watched as she pulled the trigger.

does your putting an end to the murders make it okay?

your sister was betrayed too, her boyfriend the creep who groomed your best friend. the monster who masterminded it all.

she’s angry.

she’s hurt.

you are still in love.

she ruined your life.

you see her in everything, in moths and spiders because she would always catch them and set them free. in the movies you once adored, you can’t watch your old favorites anymore. in the apartment you live in, you’re surrounded by people you love, you only want her.

she absolutely ruined you.

you will never stop loving her.

#tara carpenter #amber freeman #scream 5 #scream franchise #scream 6 #scream #samantha carpenter #sam carpenter #chad meeks martin #tamber #carpenter sisters

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lixzey · 7 months

Text

Heart to Heart

super thanks to @lilmaymayy for all the help 🤍

ONE. TWO. THREE.

warnings: mentions of death, car accident, hospitalization, and surgery.

wc: 2.8k

Y/N L/N had it all. A perfect life, a loving family, friends, you name it.

She's a beautiful woman with a heart and soul to match it. But, she's dying.

Her heart, it's killing her. She has everything, except a heart donor. Her heart has a hole, and it's keeping her from living her life.

“M-Mom..I-I can't breathe, it hurts...” Then everything faded to black.

Y/N woke up in a room with clean white walls, crisp white bed sheets and the sickening smell of disinfectant. The only thing she could hear was the silent beeping of the monitor, she was in the hospital—again.

Y/N closed her eyes shut, she didn't want to be in this place. She had already spent all her life in hospitals, she didn't want to die in one. Then, she heard hushed voices—one of which was her mother.

“Doc, is my daughter okay? Will she be okay?” her mom asked, her voice shaky.

“I'm sorry, Mrs. L/N.”

“H-how long?”

“Six months—a year, if we're lucky.”

Y/N's mom let out a shaky exhale, “Is...is there any other way?”

“The only way your daughter can survive is a heart transplant. Your daughter's condition is very critical, and there may be some complications if the transplant isn't done as soon as possible. That six months? It could be possible that she'd die today, tomorrow, next week, next month. Anything can happen, and if I were you I'd find a donor as soon as possible.” Then the doctor left, leaving Y/N's mom to break down silently.

“M-Mom?” Y/N asked in a hoarse dry voice.

Her mom turned around, and forced a smile—her cheeks were stained with fresh tears and her eyes were red and puffy—probably from being sleep deprived.

“Mom, am I going to die?” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking. Her mom quickly rushed to her side, hugging her tight.

“Mom, I'm- I don't wanna die! I can't die! I want to chase my dreams, Mom! I want to live-”

“It's going to be alright, sweetheart. I won't let you die, I won't.”

Y/N felt the whole world crumble. She was too young to die. She was barely even in her early twenties—she was only twenty three—and already spent her life in hospitals. She wasn't even finished with college, all she wanted to do ever since she was a little girl was to be a lawyer, and now with her declining condition it would be a miracle to reach 24. She isn't supposed to die, she was supposed to live her dreams—not be stuck in a hospital room or six feet under ground.

It has been two weeks since Y/N's diagnosis. And still, she had no donor. It was honestly nerve wracking—simply knowing that your days are limited, Y/N had no idea if she'd be alive the next day or even the next hour. It was torture, her heart and chest aching every minute of day. She couldn't get out of her bed—or even eat for that matter.

Y/N L/N had a lot of things on her list she wanted to do. She had dreams, big fucking dreams. Y/N dreamt of becoming one of the most prestigious lawyers the world has ever seen. She was a bright kid growing up—she always had good grades and usually never let her illness get the best of her, but when it did she made sure to still make an effort to complete each and every homework assignment. And now because of her illness, she'd lose all of the good things in her life. There were so many things Y/N still wanted to do, and one of them was falling in love.

Y/N sighed, she was tired of her life being a complete opposite of what she wanted. She grabbed her phone from her nightstand and scrolled through her tiktok, hoping for a bit of good news around the world—like world peace or maybe mother earth is healing.

“Timothée Chalamet's girlfriend, dead on the spot in a car crash!”

“Poor guy.” Y/N muttered as she read the comments on the video. Why was life that cruel? Sure, Y/N didn't know the guy, but based on the comments he loved his girlfriend.

“Y/N, darling! It's time for dinner! You still need to take your medicine!” Y/N's mom called from downstairs. Y/N slowly stood up, her vision was suddenly blurry—her chest tightened and her heart felt like it was stabbed—this wasn't like any episode she ever had. She fell to the floor with a loud thud, her eyes fighting to stay open.

The last thing Y/N heard was her mom screaming for help before everything went pitch black.

Timothée woke up with a terrible feeling, like something had happened—or something bad was going to happen. He had just gotten home from Paris fashion week and he was still jet lagged. Timothée brushed the feeling off, yawning as he got up from his bed, walking to his bathroom to get ready for the day—even if he had nothing to do.

Suddenly his phone rang, it was Zendaya.

“What's up, Z?“ Timothée asked, his voice still groggy.

“Are you okay? Fuck, I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, Tim. Condolence-” Timothée's eyes widened, “What the hell are you talking about, Z?”

“Oh shit, you don't know yet?”

“What do I don't know, Zendaya? You're scaring me.”

“I'm so sorry, Tim. Check the news.” Timothée quickly ended the call. He opened every social media account that he had, until he found the news.

“Timothée Chalamet's girlfriend, dead on the spot in a car crash!”

Timothée felt his whole world shatter. He felt numb as tears prickled against his eyes, beginning to stream down his face. Timothée called his girlfriend's best friend, frantically asking what hospital she was taken to. He grabbed his car keys and bolted out of his house. Timothée was shaking, he wanted to kill whoever crashed into his girlfriend's car. He drove as fast as he could, his vision was getting blurred by tears—but he didn't care. He needed to get to her. He needed to get to his Kaylee.

As soon as Timothée arrived at the hospital, he parked his car—not caring if it was too far from the entrance—and ran toward the hospital.

“Where's Kaylee Jenkins!?” Timothée practically screamed at the nurse on duty.

“Timothée.” He looked back and saw his and Kaylee's friends, Tom and Hannah.

“Where is she!?” Timothée roared, grabbing Tom's collar angrily.

“Calm down, Timothée!” Hannah snapped at him, pulling him off of Tom.

“How am I supposed to calm down!? My girlfriend is dead! The love of my fucking life is dead! Tell me where the fuck she is before I fucking lose it!”

“Timothée Hal!”

“Tell me!” Timothée yelled again.

Tom sighed, feeling hurt for his friend, “Take him to Kaylee. I'll wait for Zendaya and Kaylee's family.”

Hannah led Timothée to the morgue. As soon as she opened the door, Timothée saw her—the only body inside of the morgue—covered by a white sheet. He let out a shaky breath before he slowly lifted the cloth covering Kaylee's face.

His beautiful Kaylee, bruised and bloody.

“I'll leave you alone for a bit.” Hannah patted him on his shoulder, before walking out and giving him time with his beloved.

Timothée stared at Kaylee, the woman he loved for three years, the woman he wanted to marry—gone—taken away from him. He touched her lips that he always kissed, her nose that always scrunched when she got annoyed, and her once rosy cheeks that he loved to pinch. He kissed her forehead, for the last time.

“I love you, Kaylee.” Timothée whispered, tears streaming from his green eyes. “You're so unfair, Kaylee. You said that we'd be together forever, you said you'd never leave me, but you did. You promised we'd grow old together, that we'd build a life together....” Timothée sobbed, “I will never forget you, my love. I love you so fucking much, you're the only girl I will ever love like this.”

Y/N woke up back in the hospital. Her mother was smiling from ear to ear, “What happened, Mom?” Y/N asked.

“You fainted again. Don't worry, you're okay. You finally have a heart donor!” her mother smiled, “You're going to live!”

“Really?” Y/N almost squealed, “H-How? What happened?”

Y/N's mom softy smiled and kissed her daughter's forehead. “Sadly, another girl passed away, but her parents agreed to donate her heart for you. But you're going to live, sweetheart. You're going to live and be able to grow old.” she whispered.

“Thank you, Mom.”

Y/N finally felt hope for one, hope for her future, hope for her life. She finally had a chance to live, without worrying if one day her heart would just stop. It was a miracle—a chance to know how her life would turn out. A gift she'd be thankful for the rest of her life.

Y/N asked her mother who was her heart donor. Her mother said it was from a girl who died in a car accident. Y/N was first on the list of donees, and her mother had already talked to her donor's parents—they agreed, because somehow they could feel their daughter's presence even if she's gone, because I'd have her heart. Everything was ready, she would be operated on as soon as possible.

After the operation, Y/N woke up with her mother beside her.

“Mom?” Y/N croaked out.

“Y/N.” Her mother smiled at her, tears were forming in her mother's eyes.

“Why are you crying, mom?”

“I thought I'd lose you forever, Y/N/N.” her mother sniffled, “I'm so happy, darling. You're alive and well, what more can a mother ask for?”

After a week, Y/N finally went home. She'd continue her recovery at home, and day by day she was getting better.

Six months later.

“Y/N, darling? Go get ready, we're going somewhere.”

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked.

“The parents of the girl who donated your heart wants to meet you.”

“Oh, okay. I'll go get ready.” Y/N smiled at her mother before turning to get ready.

She was going to meet the parents of the person who gave her a chance to live again.

Y/N and her mother drove an hour and a half to a house in the Bronx. As soon as Y/N got out of the car, she saw a man with beautiful green eyes and chocolate brown curls looking at her. Her heart suddenly started pounding in her chest. The man gave her a small smile, before walking away. He looked miserable—like he hasn't slept in days—months even.

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins.” Y/N's mother greeted an older couple—they were around their late forties.

“Oh nonsense! Call us Marian and Adam.” the woman—Marian—smiled warmly. “And you must be Y/N, right?” Y/N nodded, “Yes, ma'am.” Suddenly, both Marian and Adam hugged her tightly. Y/N stumbled back a bit, but she let them hug her. She assumed it felt comforting—maybe because they could hear their daughter's heart inside her.

“Sorry, I hope you don't mind,” the older woman apologised as she pulled away from Y/N, “It's just, it feels like I'm hugging Kaylee again and-”

“No worries Marian,” Y/N smiled, “You can hug me as long as you want. I may not be Kaylee, but I can be like a daughter to you.”

Marian started to sob, “Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot to me, to us.”

Then suddenly, the man who Y/N saw earlier came up to her and hugged her tight. She didn't know what was happening, the man was hugging her tight—tighter than what Marian and Adam did. But, Y/N didn't pull away. His hug felt like coming home. Y/N felt her heart beat rapidly, like banging drums.

After a few minutes—yes, minutes—the man pulled away from Y/N. The two locked eyes, and Y/N felt time stood still around her, like everything was a movie.

Marian and Adam led Y/N and her mother to their backyard. They talked for a bit—told her to take care of herself and always stay safe. Of course they'd say that, because their daughter's heart was inside her.

Y/N found out the name of the man who hugged her. He was Timothée Chalamet, Kaylee's boyfriend of three years. He's a famous actor, but Y/N didn't know him. How would she even know him? She spent all her life inside hospitals—she really didn't have the time to watch movies or Hollywood dramas.

“Hey, it's been great meeting you and, uh-this may be an awkward o-or forward question, but, uh-do you think I can get your number? I'd like to get to know you better.” Timothée asked, a hopeful look plastered on his face.

“Yeah sure, it's no problem.”

Ever since Y/N and Timothée exchanged numbers, they’ve been texting each other back and forth. It even became Y/N’s routine to start her day with sending him a “good morning” and ending it with a reply to Timothee’s “goodnight”.

Until one day Timothée texted her, asking if she'd like to go out with him.

Hey

What's up, Tim?

Do you have plans tomorrow night?

Uh, none that I could think of. Why?

Can I ask you out?

What?

On a date. Or maybe just hang out? I don't know, we can do whatever you want.

When Y/N read his offer to go on a date and she squealed into her pillow, kicking her feet up in the air at the excitement rumbling in her stomach. She knew it was wrong. He was-or is still grieving, he just lost his girlfriend of three years in an instant. But with his charming words, his sexy voice, mesmerizing green eyes, and his perfect face she couldn't help a slight crush forming. She was talking to a celebrity, and it felt like a dream—like something you'd see only in movies.

“Mom, Timothée just asked me out.”

“What? Really? Y/N, that's amazing! You're going on a date for the very first time!” her mom teased.

Y/N has never exactly been on a date before but this is how it would be like, right?

The next day, Y/N got ready for her date—or to hang out with Timothée, as a friend— or maybe something more? hopefully anyways. She was giddy, she was going on a date with a handsome guy who just so happened to be a famous actor. Who wouldn't be excited? Y/N wore a simple off-shoulder blue dress that flourished just above her knees and some white strappy wedge heels. Her hair was braided to the side with some simple lip gloss, foundation, and blush for makeup.

After waiting for what felt like hours, their doorbell rang. It's him, he's actually here, picking her up for an entire day together. When Y/N opened the door, she saw him wearing a white shirt under a leather jacket paired with denim jeans. His hair was perfectly messy—Y/N wanted to run her fingers through his curls so badly. Timothée Chalamet is undeniably handsome, as if he was carved by the gods.

“Y-you look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks, you look good too.” Y/N chuckled nervously. Timothée led Y/N to his car and opened the door for her. Timothée took Y/N to one of his favourites. Buvette Gastrotheque—a small french café in West Village. The place was cosy, quaint, and there weren't a lot of people. Sitting down at a small table, Timothée ordered the COQ au Vin while Y/N got the Salade de Poulet. They paired it off with red wine, and chocolate mousse for dessert. As they waited for their food to arrive, Timothée and Y/N talked about life, interests, favourite foods, and surprisingly—they had a lot in common.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“I know we've only been talking for a month, but i need to tell you something.” Timothée grabbed her hand, intertwining it with his, “I'm….. well, uh- starting to see you a little differently.. You know? I just-” he sighs, “I feel something for you, Y/N. And I wanna know if you would ever feel the same way.”

Y/N felt the world around her stop, her eyes locking with his. Ever since he asked for her number she knew she was going to love him, but she didn't feel as happy as she thought she would be. Instead, she felt a pit slowly sinking to her stomach.

It was wrong.

Absolutely wrong.

It's been less than a year since Kaylee passed and he's already moving on, what if he doesn't actually like her but rather the heart she now wore. Y/N was speechless. She couldn't utter a word. She wanted to say she was slowly getting feelings for him too, but she knew she couldn’t.

“Timothée....”

“Y/N, please. Think about it. Give me an answer when you're ready. Just....please give me a chance.”

@lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad

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rivianaaa · 2 months

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BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARUNO SAKURA!!!!!

(The internet in the province is so shitty and I just came home and god, it's like I failed my duty as a hardcore fan of Sakura on not greeting her 😭)

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

MY GIRL IS SO LOOKING PRETTY!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 (Yes I've been eating up those videos on tiktok, what can I say? its my drug)

MY BEAUTIFUL GIRL ON HER ELEMENT!!!!

(Credits to the owners of this fantastic artwork)

Okay, I've got goods. I wanna recommend on how badass she is and everyone should read it. Since you know I'm a whore of KakaSaku, be ready that I'll recommend fics with this pairing.

The Sixth Shadow Created by @thinknicht | ao3 ⇀ Holy fuck, this is my shit. My drug that keeps me alive. Sakura on this fic is so badass. Aside from the freaki-delicious KakaSaku moments, the most favorite thing I like the most on this fic are: ❀ the medical aspect ❀ the political settings in Konoha ❀ the fight scenes ❀ the unreliable narrator tag (please be aware on this tag) ❀ Sakura's compassion (this woman is a mother!!!!!!! someone should put a statue of her at the center of Konoha!) ❀ Sakura's emotional conflict towards Kakashi. (It's not pining. This is the most important point.) I have no words—this fic is so *slowly ascends* Silver Lining Created by @thinknicht | ao3 ⇀ This fic has made me think everything. Like I've daydreamed so much. I thought the Fourth Shinobi War, Kaguya, Naruto and Sasuke, that weirdass cocoon, and also Kakashi and Sakura. Thinkie is truly an enigma, fucking hell, her brain is so good.

The Healing Slugs Sage Created by @justabrazilianwriter | ao3 ⇀ Dimension travel. This is it. AHHHHH!! Do you know how happy I am like *punching in the air* and its' KAKASAKU???? Obito throws Sakura in a different dimension where medical knowledge is so stunted due to the absence of Tsunade's existence. I know Obito cares about Sakura, but I can't help to thank the man of being a matchmaker HAHAHA!

The Idol Created by sassafrassing | ao3 ⇀ Do you know how many times I read this???? Do you how many times I type this title in the search box whenever I open my chrome??? This fic is so glorious. Two broken souls were ready to end their lives, but fate strings them together that blooms for a second chance. Holy shit, I love the scene where Sakura caress Kakashi's hair as he laid down on her lap. AHHHHH!!! I whisper scream when Kakashi decide to go back at the field to save his team and like—AHHHHH!!!

A Four Week Class in Flirting, Seduction, and Bagel Making Created by @goldfishlover73 | ao3 ⇀ Talking about tension and baking, what a dangerous combination lmaooo! I smiled so stupidly when Kakashi watch Sakura as if there is no people in the room—and oh fucking god, the frencchhhhhh!!!

The Fall Created by BelleDayNight | ao3 ⇀ I would like to thank the discord server scarecrows and cherryblossoms for this theme. This fic is so chef's kiss. Fallen angel Kakashi??? And the Dark Kakashi tag???? Perfection 👌

This beautiful AU and Run with the Hares (Hunt with the Hounds) of @brighteuphony ⇀ Let's start with the former which it held my love (because Sakura's hair is so fluffyyyyyy!!!!!!! and she's so badass holy fuck) and Im so hyped on the latter tbh! It only has 1 chapter, but I held my sanity so tight on not to read it for now.

That's all for now. There are lots lots of KakaSaku fics, but these fics has grab me by the throat and read it.

Anyways, happy birthday Haruno Sakura! 💖💖💖🌸🌸🌸🌸

#kakasaku #sakura haruno #HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY FAVORITE GIRLLLLL SAKURA HARUNO #kakasaku fic recs

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alienguts · 9 months

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Kintsugi (Bruce Wayne x f!Reader)

Summary: Bruce takes Y/N out for lunch to make up for his moping.

Warnings: mild angst, mentions of breakups, feelings and shit

Request?: sort of, a few people asked for a sequel so here we are

A/N: I haven't been writing a whole lot recently because I had a lot of work and study related things to do, but that's now over and I have a five day weekend ahead of me so I can finally get things done!

1 - Picking Up the Pieces | 2 - Kintsugi | 3 - Stay with Me

Bruce had lost track of how many times he’d looked at his watch in the past hour while sitting alone in the cafe. Y/N did say that she would be running late, but he didn’t think she meant this late. He decided to wait another twenty minutes before texting to see where she was.

Is this what being stood up feels like? Bruce wondered, thinking back to the numerous times he’d skipped out on meetings and dates for other commitments. His mind couldn’t help but drift back to the times he’d stood Y/N up for other commitments, whether that was work at Wayne Enterprises, the Batsignal, or another woman.

Guilt washed over him as he remembered how disappointed she’d been when he turned down her offers to hang out, not noticing when she was in need of a friend or for him to be more than a friend. He’d never realised how lonely she was and had always tried to push the sad look in her eyes from his mind, but he’d been so blinded by love - no, lust, desperation - to see that she was the one who’d supported him this whole time, who truly understood him and knew what his soul looked like.

He was just about to leave when the door clicked open and a rush of footsteps approached him. Bruce looked up from his phone, about to text Y/N when he saw her standing in front of her, her hair a mess from the wind and her shoulders shuddering with each breath.

“I tried to get here as fast as I could,” she said between pants. “There was an accident a few blocks down so I had to take a detour.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce said, smiling softly as he stood up to greet her. “I’ve been late for everything so it gives me a taste of my own medicine.”

Y/N let out a huge sigh of relief and took the chair across the table from Bruce, sinking into it as her muscles relaxed again. She briefly looked around at their surroundings, feeling a little out of place in the cafe Bruce had picked. She was used to frequenting diners and Starbucks rather than the grand patisseries that Bruce could afford.

“I already ordered for us,” Bruce said, snapping her out of her thoughts. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Y/N said, smiling at him. “You always know what I like anyway.”

His heart fluttered when she smiled at him. It felt like something that had been missing his whole life but had been there the whole time.

If only he hadn’t been so foolish not to see it.

Their lunch date was just like old times: two old friends talking about how their lives had been and what they were planning to do later on in the week. It was as if they’d never been apart, as if Bruce had never taken Y/N’s friendship for granted. He’d pretty much forgotten about the events of the night before and he’d almost forgotten about Selina. Almost.

That wound in his heart wasn’t likely to heal any time soon, and rushing into something with Y/N wouldn’t be fair for her. He needed time to grieve the relationship and piling all of that onto her would be a bad start to a new relationship. Especially one with his oldest and best friend.

“Y/N,” he started after an extended quiet moment. “I wanted to apologise to you.”

“What for?” Y/N asked, stopping as she reached for her cup.

“For taking you for granted for all this time.”

Y/N shot him a confused look. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said.

“Every time I went through a rough patch in a relationship or a breakup, I would always come running to you for comfort,” Bruce said, keeping eye contact with her so she could see how sincere he was. “But I never did the same for you. Whenever you needed someone to be there for you, I wasn’t.”

“Maybe I didn’t need someone to be there for me,” Y/N said. “I know how busy you are.”

“Yes, but a true friend would drop everything for a friend who needs them. And I’m sorry that I was never there for you.”

“Bruce, you don’t have to be sorry for anything, I understand why you can’t always be around whenever I’m moping.”

“But I should be,” Bruce said, drawing the attention of some of the other diners around them. “I should be there for you because you’re always there for me. I feel like I’ve taken advantage of you and I don’t want to keep doing that.”

“I don’t want you to either,” Y/N said, her voice quiet as she looked down at the table. “I cried so much when you left last night. I felt like I was stuck in this endless loop of you breaking up with someone and coming to cry on my shoulder before going off to the next one.”

And I want to be the next one, she stopped herself from saying. Her throat felt thick like she’d swallowed a spoonful of molasses and couldn’t get it to go down. She wanted to tell Bruce how she felt about him, but not right in the middle of a cafe and not when he’d just been left at the altar. It would probably eat her up inside until she felt the time was right, but she’d endure it. Even if that meant waiting years for Bruce to be ready to love again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her back to the room with him. “I’m sorry I put you through that. I want to be a better friend to you and I’m going to be a better friend.”

When Y/N didn’t respond, Bruce excused himself from the table to pay for the cheque. A single tear spilt from her eye once he was far away enough for her to not notice and was quickly wiped away with a napkin. This wasn’t how she had hoped the afternoon to go, and she was sure it wasn’t how Bruce wanted it to go either. After making sure she didn’t look like she was on the verge of tears, she gathered her things and joined Bruce at the counter who was ready to go.

“You feeling okay?” he asked when she approached him. She just nodded in reply. “We should get going.”

Bruce drove Y/N home and walked her up to her apartment, keeping close to her every step. His fingers brushed against hers occasionally, sending sparks up his arm and making his body run warm. They walked up the stairs to her floor in silence, the sound of their footsteps the only sound until they reached Y/N’s apartment and she fished her keys out of her pocket.

“Lunch didn’t end the way we’d hoped, huh?” Bruce said, trying to lighten the mood. “I really am sorry. About yesterday. And today.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said. “You’ve been hurt, you probably haven’t been thinking clearly.”

“Thanks for understanding, Y/N,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks for lunch,” she said in response before stepping forward to hug him.

Bruce eagerly accepted her hug, wrapping his strong arms around her tightly and resting his cheek on the top of her head. He breathed in the scent of her shampoo and the perfume that he knew she always dabbed behind her ears and let himself relax into her body. Hugging Y/N felt natural to him, but for some reason, it felt even more natural now. Like she was home and was welcoming him back to her after being away for so long.

Without thinking, he shifted his head to softly kiss the top of her head and let his lips linger before she moved away from him. She looked at him wide-eyed, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her response before letting her gaze move down to his lips. Her chest rose and fell as her heartbeat sped up and Bruce moved one of his hands from her back to her face, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek and moving to gently hold her jaw. Just as he leaned his face into hers, her eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted, waiting for him to make contact.

She felt his forehead against hers first, then his nose brush against hers before he softly captured her lips. Her heart skipped a beat before she relaxed into him, returning his kiss. It was gentle and chaste, but exactly what she’d wanted for years. And all it took was the man she’d loved her whole life getting left at the altar by her rival in love.

The kiss was over just as soon as it had begun. Bruce had pulled away from her just enough to still feel his breath on her skin, his hands still on her but full of restless energy. She knew he would have to go but she just wanted one more minute of feeling like he was hers.

“I should get going now,” Bruce said, his voice soft and quiet. “Alfred will be wondering why I’m taking so long.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said as she let him move away from her. “Um, we should do this again soon.”

No, it’s too soon, Y/N, she told herself.

“Y’know, when you’re ready, of course,” she added quickly. Bruce smiled at her and took her hand.

“I’ll always make time for you,” he said warmly. “I told you, I want to make up the past ten years to you.”

“I’d like that,” she said as she opened her apartment door behind her and slowly backed into it. “So, see you soon?”

“See you soon,” Bruce said and watched her go before making his way down the hall and stairs and back to his car.

Once the door had closed, Y/N again slid down against it, this time in triumph rather than sorrow. It was too early to know for sure, but she knew that she didn’t have to live in dread of Bruce blowing her off for some other fling again. She finally knew what it was like to be close to him, to have him kiss her, even if it was so briefly. Her fingers drifted up to her lip, still tingling from his kiss as if she couldn’t believe that it had happened. But it had, and hopefully, it would happen many more times in the future.

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brewstersbru · 3 months

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Queerplatonic Radioapple 📻 🍎,,, old men (losers) who care abt e/o

The thing about being an angel is that there are always bloodier, messier ways to do things. There’s an easy way, and there’s a fun way, and despite what they would have you believe, angels are much too bored with eternity to choose anything but the fun way anymore.

Lucifer curses whatever twisted being made him and bestowed his powers upon him- God- then backtracks in his own head, still deathly afraid of being heard and punished. Then, once he remembers that no one is listening, haven’t been for centuries, he curses them again.

Charlie is worried about Alastor. He hasn’t been acting himself these past few days. Rarely leaves his tower unless summoned, his smiles have become tight-lipped and straining. Even with the cursory attention Lucifer has paid him- busy with trying to make up for too many years in a hole- it’s not hard to see that Charlie is right, and something is wrong.

All it takes is a quick, plausibly accidental stroll outside of his rooms to tell Lucifer what it is. Charlie hadn’t asked him to snoop, but she’s nervous. Doesn’t want to lose another friend. Lucifer would do anything and everything to Fix It, and in order to get to that point he needs to know what’s wrong. So he snoops.

The pungent reek of demon blood poisoned with holy light permeates the air around Alastor’s rooms. To anyone but Lucifer it probably doesn’t smell too different, Alastor has very obviously put a lot of effort into covering the stench with rancid deer meat, and gamey sinner. Lucifer knows what a holy wound smells like, though, hell he’s not sure why he didn’t recognize it before now. Alastor’s obviously put in work to keep this a secret but it shouldn’t have worked for this long against the literal king of hell. He’s distracted, too comfortable, needs to sharpen the hell up if he has any plans of actually protecting his daughter and her passion project in any meaningful way.

Once he knows what is wrong, it’s not difficult to devise a fix. What is difficult, is coming to terms with what that will entail.

The way he sees it, there are three ways out of this situation. One, he tells Alastor he knows that he’s still hurt and offers to heal the wound through touch, which will take approximately an hour after which they never have to speak again. That one’s mostly a bust simply because Lucifer reckons Alastor won’t let him get past the first part without mauling him.

Two, he lets Alastor die of being a stubborn, pissy bastard. This one’s not really an option considering the whole reason he’s going through all of this trouble is so that Charlie will stop worrying. Killing him won’t stop the worrying, no matter how much he wishes it would.

Finally, unfortunately the only feasible plan, is to siphon the poison from the wound over time. Slowly imbuing Alastor’s soul with his own, tainted holy energy in order to heal the wound over time. If he does it right, Alastor won’t even know he was healed. The unfortunate part about this plan is that it doesn’t rid the wound from existence like a touch would, it simply transfers it from one soul to another. Lucifer will be taking the wound onto himself, where he can work on healing it naturally, as his body is not poisoned by the purity of angelic wounds. It will hurt, but it will heal. If the wound is left on Alastor, it will never heal.

Begrudging, but still determined to be as useful as possible to Charlie before he inevitably fucks everything up again, Lucifer resolves to go through with plan number three. It takes a week. Seven days of gradually increasing pain, of magicking golden stains from his coat, then being winded from using magic, of sewing himself together each night only to wake up in a pool of his own blood because the wound had grown larger while he slept.

It takes seven days, but at the end of it, Alastor is as chipper as ever, and the crease between Charlie’s brows has smoothed into something joyful. The wound now spans the length of Lucifer’s chest, wrapping around his torso near his ribs and up to his rightmost shoulder blade. Honestly, he’s not sure how Alastor survived so long like this and feels a grudging respect at the man for having pushed through.

The wound throbs, and every so often it will twinge, as if Lucifer were being cut in half- scored and carved all over again- but when he walks downstairs on the morning of the eighth day and finds Alastor cooking, Charlie seated, legs kicking happily at the island… He knows it’s worth it. Any amount of pain would be worth the sheer relief on Charlie’s face as she tracks Alastor’s every move, still looking for any irregularities. Something like pride swells within Lucifer at the knowledge that she will find none. He did that. He brought her that solace. No one will ever know, but that wasn’t the point of it.

“Good morning your majesty!” Alastor crows from the stove, he doesn’t turn to greet him. For a moment Lucifer wonders how he had known he was there, but a pair of eyes glinting in the shadows of the hallway tells him all he needs to know about that. Charlie perks and glances over at him as he’s addressed.

“Good morning, Alastor! You seem awful chipper today, feeling better?” No one will know he helped Alastor, yes, but that doesn’t mean he cant have fun with this. Just the look on his face right now- a smile, frozen, as his brows draw inward in incredulity- is worth the twinge that talking elicits.

Alastor, always the performer, recovers easily. “I’ve no idea what you mean! I have not been sick in decades, your majesty.”

Lucifer only chuckles, hiding his wince by taking a seat next to Charlie at the island. God why does it hurt so much? Why can’t he focus on anything else? Michael had torn off his fucking wings and stabbed him through the heart with blessed steel when he cast him down to hell and he can’t handle a little holy light from Adam? Eternity has made him soft. It’s fucking pathetic.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to presume. You had Charlie worried!” He grits, trying to keep his voice even and chipper. Charlie smacks him on the arm and he has to fight off a groan. Fucking. Worthless.

“Dad! I wasn’t- I just- UGH.” She stutters, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I still can’t believe we sent you to deal with Adam alone. That never should’ve happened, Al, I’m so so so so sorr-“

Alastor cuts her off with a grin, sliding a steaming plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of her. “No need, my dear! As you can see I’m right as rain and in one piece.” His eyes slide over to Lucifer for a moment and he hums.

“Would you like some breakfast, your majesty?” He asks, turning back to the stove. Lucifer shakes his head, then regrets it when it makes him dizzy.

“I’m alright, thank you. Had a big dinner.” He manages. Alastor hums again, and Lucifer isn’t sure whether that means he believes him or not.

Charlie finishes her meal in quiet, comfortable conversation with Alastor, some of the other hotel residents who stop in for a bite and, occasionally, Lucifer when he manages to push down the nausea enough to speak without fear of barfing all over her nice pantsuit.

She leaves with little fanfare, but she does pull Lucifer into a side hug that, while agonizing, he will cherish forever. The rest of the ‘reformees’ make their way through the kitchen for the next thirty minutes until Charlie calls everyone to the atrium for some bonding exercises. Alastor does not make any move to leave the kitchen at the announcement, so Lucifer doesn’t, either. He’s also unsure of his ability to not pass out if he stands right now.

It’s so warm in the kitchen, Alastor had the ovens on for cinnamon rolls and it smells heavenly. If Lucifer closes his eyes, he can almost imagine that Lilith is still here, that he hasn’t fucked it all up with Charlie yet. He dozes on the thick marble of the island, chest still twinging, but strangely at peace.

It’s another five minutes of warm silence before the clink of a plate beside his elbow rouses him. A warmth settles to his right.

Blinking his eyes open, Lucifer catches sight of Alastor looking at him. Through him, might be a better description of the action; his eyes rove, calculating over the planes of Lucifer’s face. Alastor isn’t frowning- he never frowns- but there’s a crease between his eyebrows. Maybe those are like wounds, too, they don’t heal they just transfer to another person. Maybe Charlie’s just transferred to him, like his wound had transferred to Lucifer.

Lucifer snorts to himself at his own little joke. The crease deepens.

“You were not at supper last night.” Alastor prompts, finally. Lucifer isn’t quite sure how that’s relevant right now.

“Yeah, and neither were you.” Check and mate. A bit of radio static pierces through the air at his quip. Lucifer smiles to himself, sitting up.

With the knowledge that he’s under scrutiny, he puts more work into affecting his usual trite joviality. Alastor simply raises a brow as he hands him a fork and gestures to the full plate in front of him. Lucifer is shocked still for a moment. Alastor made this food. He made it, and he’s giving some to Lucifer? Of his own volition? Lucifer takes a moment to rack his brain for any side effects of the siphoning that might make him act like this but the only possible explanation is the sheer adrenaline of relief, knowing you’re not dying anymore.

“You made this for me?” Lucifer asks, voice small. He can’t remember the last time someone cooked for him. Hell, he can’t remember the last time he ate anything. He doesn’t need to, not really, but it’s nice when there’s love in it. When someone takes the time to care about him in this way. Lucifer’s never found himself all too worth cooking for, and that’s most of the reason why he didn’t, in all those years spent alone since Charlie and Lilith leaving.

Alastor rolls his eyes.

“Obviously. It would be rude not to indulge, you know. So get to it!” His voice is filled with static, it takes a moment for Lucifer to parse his words. He takes the proffered fork and takes a small bite of the scrambled eggs. Father Almighty. They’re perfectly fluffy, well seasoned and just the right temperature! Lucifer can’t help the pleased sound that escapes him at the taste. He glances up at Alastor to find that his grin has turned smug. Whatever. Lucifer’s not going to lie to him.

“This is really good. Thanks.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Lucifer takes another bite before asking, “Do you want some? I know you haven’t been eating, either, and you probably need it more than me.”

Alastor’s eyes narrow and Lucifer gets the creeping feeling he’s let something slip.

“This is the second time you’ve referenced an invented affliction of mine. I would appreciate if you refrained from now on.” Alastor hisses, the air around the two of them practically sizzles with electricity.

‘Imagined’ hah! He wishes. Lucifer raises an eyebrow, he makes it too easy.

“You’re awful defensive for someone who supposedly didn’t have an affliction.” He drawls. Alastor’s eyes flicker green as he stands, abruptly.

“Put your dish in the washer when you’re done. I will see you another time.” He grits, stalking out of the room. It’s not until he leaves that Lucifer notices that he’d cleaned everything up. The sink is empty and the stove is spick and span. The only dish left is Lucifer’s plate and fork; he’d saved him a portion.

Lucifer does as told and hobbles up to his rooms with a smile on his face and a full stomach. Maybe this whole siphoning thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

***

This siphoning thing was such a fucking bad idea. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Lucifer curses to himself as he hobbles to the bathroom situated on the skywalk between his and Alastor’s rooms. His stitches had popped in the middle of one of his unfortunately timed yearly nightmares about falling. So, on top of the popped stitches, he’d scratched his arms bloody, too. Usually when he gets like this he doesn’t bother leaving his room, the cuts will heal themselves as soon as he gets to his door, anyway. But with the extra energy his body is expending on healing the Adam Wound, they just keep bleeding, sluggishly.

It’s been a couple days and the wound has been looking better, but it’s slow going. Lucifer shudders to think what would’ve happened to Alastor if he’d kept trying to live with it. Speaking of Alastor, the bastard’s been making him breakfast every day now; and if Lucifer doesn’t make it down during the hour he spends cooking, he sets aside a portion and puts it in the fridge.

Lucifer doesn’t know if this is his way of being nice, or if he’s luring him in to try and poison him one of these days. Either way, it’s always nice to be cooked for. Poison wouldn’t work on him, anyways.

There’s a pit in his stomach, growling and gnawing for something warm to satiate it- something Alastor-made- as Lucifer bleeds ichor onto the carpet. He pushes the feeling, and the resulting shame, down deep within himself. How low can he get, really? Fuck. Pining for kind gestures from a man who ostensibly wants to kill him? How far can he fucking fall.

The door to the restroom is open when he gets there, which Lucifer is all too thankful for. He pushes, with some effort, into the darkness.

A part of him considers turning on the light, but he has no issues seeing in the dark, and it seems like a lot of work to go through for no reason. With a groan, he bends down to grab the medkit from below the sink, then sits himself on the closed toilet.

With shuddering breaths, he snaps his shaking fingers, doubling over as his night shirt dissipates. “God- fuck!” He sucks a breath through his teeth.

Lucifer stays folded over for a moment, taking the time to breathe once, twice, before unfurling into a now familiar agony.

He grabs a hand towel and shoves it between his teeth to muffle any unwitting noises he might make- he’d found out the hard way that he’s a screamer a long time ago- and threads the suture needle with dental floss. He ran out of actual suture thread yesterday and, not wanting to alarm Charlie or let anything slip, hadn’t asked where he could find more. Dental floss has worked before, and it’ll work now. It just won’t be as pretty as it usually is.

Lucifer has just begun stitching himself up- letting little whines and whimpers into the hand towel tightly clenched between his teeth with each tug of the floss- when the door to the bathroom bursts open and a humming Alastor strides through the threshold. He flicks on the light- though Lucifer’s unsure why, as he doesn’t need it to see, either- and immediately makes eye contact with Lucifer. Then the hand towel clamped in his teeth. Then the giant bleeding wound on his chest. Then the eight golden scores in his arms.

His eyes widen a fraction, then narrow into a glare.

He strides up to Lucifer and grabs at his jaw, but the hold is surprisingly gentle. Alastor runs a finger along the area until it loosens enough for him to wrestle the towel from his lips.

Lucifer’s not sure if he should feel threatened or not. It’s not like Alastor can do anything to him. Not anything he hasn’t felt before, at least.

Why is the steel in his eyes so terrifying, then, though?

“Explain.”

Alastor says the word quietly, but somehow his voice seems to echo in the room. Lucifer sits tall, unwilling to be made ashamed of what he’s done. What he’s tried to do, to help.

“You never would have let me close enough to heal you through touch. You know that. And Charlie would have been devastated if you died because you were too much of an uptight prick to let other people care about you. This was the only way. I’ll heal. You wouldn’t.”

Lucifer’s voice is raspy, a little hoarse from the agony of the night. He has to clear his throat a few times during the monologue. Alastor stares at him through the entire thing, eyes burning against the side of his face. It’s silent for a while and Lucifer is acutely aware of the fact that he’s still bleeding.

“Now if you don’t mind, I have sutures to-” Alastor cuts him off with a vague scratch of radio static, “Give me the needle.”

Lucifer hesitates, so he repeats himself, enunciating each word.

“Give. Me. The. Needle.”

Lucifer does. He’s nervous for a moment- god knows why- but it’s like he’s been telling himself: Alastor physically can’t do anything to him that hasn’t already been done. He’ll be fine. Alastor pulls a stool from thin air and settles himself next to Lucifer.

He expects a sharp, focused pain. Tiny cruel little stabs done in excess to teach him a lesson about doing Alastor ‘favors’. But Alastor’s hands are warm and gentle against the golden shreds of his midsection. Each suture is measured and careful, he moves slowly through the motions and keeps a steadying hand against Lucifer’s side as he works. He does not look at him, though, entirely focused on the task at hand.

The gentleness is off-putting, and it makes something flighty bang around in Lucifer’s chest. He suddenly feels the urgent need to apologize.

“I’m sorry, Alastor. I should’ve asked but I was afraid it would take too long. I’m surprised you’re still alive now given the state the wound was in when I first transferred it.” Lucifer chuckles. Alastor does not join him. He babbles on.

“I don’t regret it, though. And I’d do it again if I needed to. I mean have you seen Charlie lately? She’s got the pep back in her step! And you, you’re up and cooking again. Everyone’s so happy you’re back in the apron.”

Alastor hums, finishing up the sutures on his chest and immediately moving to the deepest gashes on his arms. Lucifer is just about to protest- really, those ones will heal soon enough, they don’t need anything- when Alastor speaks.

“What about you?”

Lucifer cocks his head. Huh?

“What about me?” He asks.

Alastor chuckles, pressing some antiseptic into a different hand towel than the one Lucifer had been biting on and passing it over the- now sewn- cuts on his forearm. The sting barely registers. It’s so needless. It’s so wasteful.

“You speak of all of these benefits but I fail to see how any of them pertain to you. Aside from your obvious need for your daughter’s approval, of course.” He says.

That stings a little, which is strange because none of it is untrue. Of course he wants Charlie’s approval; it’s the fucking least he could do after everything he’s made her face alone.

Lucifer shrugs, pushing Alastor’s hands away when they try to tend to his other arm.

“What’s it matter? I don’t need the benefits to ‘pertain to me’, I don’t do anything for these people,” he spreads his arms around to emphasize his point, “not like you or Charlie do. Besides, I’ve been selfish enough already, don’t you think?” The gesture he makes this time is similar to before, but he points through the restroom door to the window that lines the skywalk. Moreso conveying the idea ‘see what my selfishness has already culminated into? Eternal damnation for millions of souls’. Alastor raises an eyebrow.

“And what would your daughter think of this… philosophy of yours?” His voice is low, and he reaches out to grab Lucifer’s arm back into his own grip. Still gentle, but firmer than before. Lucifer doesn’t fight him on it and his eyes light up at the success. That’s… oddly endearing for a murderer-cannibal.

Lucifer shrugs once more. He doesn’t really see the point Alastor is trying to make, he’s thought this through. He knows what he’s doing.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? She’s never going to know and we’re going to keep it that way. She’s got a bleeding heart, probably got it from her old man,” Lucifer chuckles self-depreciatingly, “it wouldn’t do her any good.”

Alastor finishes with the last bandage- more unnecessary, needless waste on wounds that will heal tomorrow- and runs the antiseptic towel under warm water before wiping Lucifer clean of his own blood. His touch is just as light as it was before, it’s driving Lucifer insane. Why won’t he just hurt him already. He knows he’s itching for it.

“You are not what I thought you would be.” Alastor says, finally, tossing the towel into the laundry basket in the corner of the room. His eyes raise, finally, to meet Lucifer’s own shocked gaze. He can’t muster up a response; what is he supposed to say to that? Is it a good thing? Probably not. A bad thing? Well, then he doesn’t need more fuel for his ‘bad thoughts’ journal.

Thankfully, Alastor continues, “Next time, simply come talk to me. I don’t want this to happen again.” He stands, brushing imaginary dust off of his overcoat- which, now that Lucifer is paying attention, why is he still in his overcoat at three in the morning?

Lucifer snaps his fingers- now embarrassed by his own state of undress and reinvigorated by the tender touches- and rematerializes his nightshirt. Alastor levels him with a disapproving glare when he reels from the exertion.

“Now why did you go and do that? I could have gotten you a shirt, and then you wouldn’t be dizzy. Pity you’re so stubborn.” He comments, with just the slightest tinge of frustration. It thrills something in Lucifer to be able to get that reaction out of him, even in this diminished state.

“Yeah. Pity. Look, I’m not going to promise you this won’t happen again. I’m going to do what’s best for Charlie and this hotel, always.” Lucifer’s voice breaks a little at the latter end of the sentence, he can’t bring himself to meet Alastor’s eyes.

There’s silence for a moment, then a clawed finger flicks delicately at his chin, tilting his head up. Alastor sighs when he keeps his gaze low.

“Stubborn. I am not asking you not to do it- you were right, I probably wouldn’t have gone for the touch healing- I am asking you to do me the courtesy of checking first, before you act. Is that clear?”

Lucifer mulls over the words for a moment, considering his options. All in all it’s not a bad deal, and if this experience has taught him anything it’s that it’s nice to have someone in your corner, willing to help if you let them in. Charlie is in his corner, but she’s also his daughter, and it will never be her job to help him with anything for as long as he is alive. Alastor’s offering.

Lucifer nods, hesitantly.

“I can do that. Thanks.”

Alastor shakes his head before turning towards the door.

“Put some of the green tube on your chest wound every night before bed. If your arms don’t heal by tomorrow, add some there too. Don’t exert yourself. I’ll know if you pop your stitches again.”

And with that laundry list of care, he disappears into the night. Lucifer looks at the stitching on his chest, wondering if he was being serious, or if he was just bluffing about knowing.

Three cross stitches glow a neon green right next to each other in the middle of his chest “X X X”.

Ah, so that’s how. Sneaky bastard.

Still, though, Lucifer smiles all the way back to his room, and if he notices a shadow tailing him on his way there, he doesn’t say anything about it.

#radioapple #queerplatonic #old men #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #theyre so odd and weird about affection #oh u didnt maul me and u made me food?#what do u like me or smth?#something something giving a monumental sacrifice and acting like its nothing bc if you dont you have to grapple w the fact that you care #anyways #brublurbs #enjoy idk how long this is but it took four hrs to write !

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dracaesusurro · 1 year

Text

May Eywa be our witness pt3

Pairing: Netayam x female reader

Genre: fluff, little angst, mating mentions, sensual scenes, mature

Summary: part 3 to the last two fics !!!!!

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As she ran after him she saw he was about to get on his Ikran and called out to him, “neteyam, Nete wait, one moment..” she thought he would just fly off but he slowly retreated and walked towards her. She wanted to talk but he grabbed both her forearms and stared into her eyes. “Ma y/n you don’t have to go through with this, his delusional! You can’t mate with some water Na’vi you don’t love, what about your choice, what about me!?” You couldn’t agree more but what else could you do, “what do you expect me to do Nete? We can’t be, and if Jake found out it would be a worst fate then to mate with another…” he dropped your hands and scoffed lightly “a worst fate then watching the one you love mate with a stranger, anybody who’s not you? Are you hearing yourself y/n?! This is absurd” he expresses this looking deeply in your eyes hoping you’d meet him half way, when you stay silent, much to his dismay he begins to walk away, back to his Ikran.

“Why do you keep doing this? Putting the worlds decision on my shoulder, why do you enjoy my pain neteyam!?” She is exhausted, of being composed, the understanding one, the one who listens and takes it all. “I don’t ever enjoy your pain, understand me, see me, your pain is my pain my y/n! Why do you insist otherwise” there’s a minimal space in between the two yet it feels yards away, years even. He feels years away. “Then why can’t you see my point, I’m trying to save you from my fate why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn” she’s in tears yelling yet her voice is not as loud as she’d like it to be, it’s faint. “Because I love you, what kind of life do you expect me to live without you huh” he lifts your chin with his hand, getting you to look at him, he studies your face, the other hand on your waist keeping you balanced, “a world without you, isn’t a world suitable for me, listen, hear me, I give myself to you for life, I am yours mind, body and soul. Damn whoever that says otherwise, if we have to fight for our love then I’m willing to do it with my life but I need you by my side, you need to choose me…”

His words felt like a prayer, a healing force, stitching your bleeding heart. You leaned into his touch kissing the palm of his hand, he smiled at you, a smile sweeter than the worlds nectar and you felt a laugh erupt from deep within, a watery happy laugh. “Your wiser than you let on my Neteyam, so wise-” your hands trailed up his chest “so brave” cupping his cheek “so mighty” your fingers tangled in his hair “and so, so beautiful” you breathed out and he could only stare at you, still waiting upon you answer, admiring everything about you silently and so you continued “my life began when I met you, my heart beat for the first time when I saw your smile and my world changed by your first touch. Your world is mine and I am as every bit yours, mind body and soul, I was yours from the first hello” you took a break, caught your breath and brought your face closer to him “I’ll fight with you, I’ll fight the world, the demons, anyone who stands in our way neteyam I’ll fight them for you, Nga yawne lu oer ma neteyam” your foreheads lent against each other a laugh escaped your lips and he soon followed, a relived laugh, happy, hopeful, free.

You didn’t know where the world would take you from here but you Followed him, you trusted the great mother and you let him lead you. He flew you to a river, a breathtaking sight, it was his favorite place he said a place he seeks to hide, to calm himself, a place he needs when he doesn’t have you. He sat you by a tree, golden branches glowing in the black of the night, it was a dream, it all seemed like a dream.

Your head was tilted up admiring the beautiful branches, he was silent, you looked down to see him staring at you “what are you staring at?” You asked teasingly with a genuine smile. “At the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen” he had a way with words, he knew it and so did you. “Oh stop it, you’re being foolish” you giggled looking away from him, your ears a crimson color. “Foolish?! Come here I’ll show you foolish you beautiful girl” before you could react he pulled you into his lap kissing you all over the face and neck, little kisses straying fast but as your laughter died down, so did his speed. He left memories with each kiss, behind your ear, your jaw, your neck, and back up to your face. “Neteyam, I choose you” you stare into his bright eyes, your hands around his neck, “I chose you a long time ago yawne” you brought your lips to his, a slow motion turned passionate his tail brushing against your waist and up your arms before yours began to entangle with his, neteyam leaned forward laying you down on the bed of grass, he looked at you, you grabbed your queue and held it towards him smiley silently your lips inches away from his. He connected his to yours and when you felt the bond a gasp left both of you, a sudden electric motion running through your bodies, neteyam was quick to bring his lips down to yours his hands roaming your body, a moan escaped you lips vibrating against his mouth, this only made him deepen the kiss further, there was nothing between you, no space, the two of you molded into one. With every motion a sound escaped your mouth and that only fed Neteyam’s pride.

As you pulled away you could see the happiness radiating off Neteyam’s body. He looked up at you and smiled, it was almost a sheepish grin, “I was yours mind and soul before but you can add body to the list now” he chuckled his voice sending waves of heat into you heart. “Nete..” you gasped slapping his arm.

He smiled widely before shoving his head into the crook of your neck to savor this moment and you with it, he took a deep breath and laid with you, you relaxed under his grasp, during your moment all you could think about was your love for him, but there are things that had skipped your mind, “neteyam..” you stared off carefully not wanting to anger him, he rose his head to look into your eyes, you cupped his face and stared for a moment. He sat up slightly worried at your features, you hadn’t noticed your frown having been lost in thought. “What is it my y/n what’s in your thoughts?” You didn’t want to ruin this moment but you had to bring it up, it was inevitable.

“What am to do, with the arrangements?” His soft Look faltered, the reminder brought him rage, but when he looked at you all those feelings vanished, he could only feel your love, “whatever we have to do we’ll do it together. You are my mate, we’re bonded for life, they can’t separate us ever” he kisses your forehead softly then your lips, you close your eyes and sigh.

“I’m never going to get used to these kisses, they’re becoming a life source for me” you chuckled leaning your forehead against his chest, his touch relaxed every worry you’ve ever worn.

“I am yours entirely, all these kisses are reserved for you and only you, for the rest of our lives, I promise this to you, may Eywa be our witness”

“Ma neteyam, my eternal love is promised to you, may Eywa be my witness”

He hugged you tightly against his chest leaving his chin on top of your head, “if only you could promise to not be so damn hot headed, your way too stubborn you worry me too much yawne”

A loud laughter erupts from you, his remarks genuine but his reached too deep, “ oh you and I both know that’s a promise I can’t keep not even in the name of Eywa” he laughed along with you, kissing your shoulders, his voice was a melody, music to your ears, that hug lasted an oblivion in your mind. And so did your bond.

Thank you for reading❤️❤️ total power couple here, there is not way in hell his letting Jake mate her off!!!!!

Leave any requests you have for more stories!! I’ll try to get to them all.

#neteyamseries #neteyam avatar #neteyam angst #neteyam fic #neteyam x oc #neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar fic #avakinlife #avatar the way of water #avatar #fanfiction

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