the parallels of hawkeye , who struggles with his faith , struggles to see good at times when he’s seen so much horror , agnostic hawkeye briefly losing his sight without losing his essence , without letting himself become bitter despite what it means for him as a surgeon . and father mulcahy , ever - faithful , someone who despite everything he sees strives to see good in others and do good himself , then to his faith when need be , losing his hearing without losing his essence , without letting himself become bitter despite what it means to him as a catholic priest .

Hi green! Since you've left me some lovely requests, I thought I'd leave you one! I'm in love with the friends to love trope, so if you could do something like that with Felix, I'd eat it up. I'm thinking of something like the reader (gn please) has a really hard day and decides to go to Felix, but then it starts raining, so when Felix opens the door, reader is soaking wet and distressed. You can do anything from there! Again, I love your writing, so anything you come up with will be undoubtedly amazing. Hope you're doing well! <3

everything is you.

other works by green.

pairing: felix x gender neutral reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of parental abandonment years prior, mentions of recent death of a parent, smoking weed, daddy issues

rating: 13+

summary: through every single hardship you'd ever endured, felix always waited for you, ready to bring you into the safety of his embrace. so when you're stuck amidst the complicated emotions following your father's recent passing, the first and only person you sought for comfort was your best friend.

Echoes of the youth you’d spent in this house haunted the eerie hallways of this vacant home. Every inch of this familiar place has remained the same, though you certainly haven’t. Sitting on the front porch floor, a joint you’d just rolled burning between your fingers as you watch the rain pour outside, a vacant expression on your face as you decided on what to do. The initial plan was to walk towards your best friend’s house, which was a short walk away but the sky seemed to have other plans. And so you remained there, stuck sitting beside a box full of letters addressed to you, but that had never been sent – all written by your father. 

Too many times you had driven past him on your way to visit your best friend, making the point to keep your eyes on the road in case your father sat out front like he sometimes tended to do. The two of you had never been on good terms, especially since your mother left when you were a teenager to chase another man who’d made empty promises to her, and your father didn’t know the first thing about caring about another human being. It wasn’t a surprise to anybody when you left without a word the very minute you were old enough to do so and never returned. And yet, here you were, years since you’d gone – a box of letters he’d written to you though never sent, and you knew you didn’t have the nerve to open them alone. 

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips, pulling your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans for what was possibly the millionth time only to be met by the same symbol of no signal available for you to message Felix, the aforementioned best friend – the boy you’ve known since you could barely form a sentence due to living so close to each other. He was the kind of guy who would smile a little bit wider whenever his eyes landed on you, the one to allow you to lash out when you were angry despite how sensitive he was because he wanted you to feel better, the one to remember your birthday and plan something intimate and special even if nobody else bothered, the one to pay attention to the little things you would mention in passing and always remember – he was very much in love with you, had been for a very long time and you were well aware. But he never mentioned it directly, and you decided that you wouldn’t bring it up either because you knew that the reality of this lifetime is that you were made to destroy and hurt while he was made to heal and rebuild and you couldn’t risk having him be the next victim.

In moments like these, while alone with your thoughts that slowed down from the flower you smoked that still seemed to suffocate you all the same, you wished things were different. If only you were a stable human being, good enough for him to safely lay his head on your shoulder the way a lover would do, someone who’s sane and loving and all things good – all of which you were not – then perhaps he would be sitting beside you already, encouraging you to open the first letter while being ready to kiss your forehead at the first sign of distress. It’s selfish, and you knew, but as the screen of your useless phone remained blank you couldn’t help but wish his name would pop up. 

Your mind swirled with thoughts that made it harder to breathe with each passing second. The box of letters beside you. No signal. Felix’s smile. Childhood home. Your mother leaving. Your father’s cold demeanor. Yourself.

Not willing to wait for the rain to end, but also not wanting to dwell in here any longer, you grunted as you put out your joint and walked inside. A plastic sheet that covered one of the cushioned chairs in the living room was the only thing you took before making a b-line back outside. You lazily throw the sheet over the box, struggling only slightly to lift it before leaving the shelter from the rain, instantly drenched as the it offered no mercy. Barely able to keep your eyes open, you followed the same path you’ve walked a thousand times throughout your life, the pull of your best friend’s comfort and warmth being the true source of your rush as your pace quickened.

The neighborhood was the same, with the same married couples still residing in them – though most of their children were gone, already having moved on in their adult lives as their parents awaited for the next holiday to see them again. Everywhere you looked, a memory tied you to Felix as though his entire, beautiful being had been burned into your consciousness forever. Perhaps he had been, not that you would complain about it one bit if that were the case.

Felix’s childhood home came into view at last, and you all but sprinted clumsily with the box in your hands as your mind, body and heart yearned for his strong arms around you. Your heart was pumping blood through your veins harshly by the time you’d made it to his front door, dropping the box at your feet before banging on his wooden door. The air was having a hard time reaching your lungs and you realized that you were crying now that the rain was not hammering onto your skin – flashbacks of a similar scene played in your head, your teenage self distressed after you’d read your mother’s goodbye letter and your grief engulfed you and sent you down a spiral while the scene of your father sitting on the dinner table reading his newspaper and sipping coffee as you screamed at him to see you and your broken heart left at the departure of your mother. Your fists shaking as you gave up, falling onto your knees in despair just as the door swung open. 

A wide-eyed Felix stood before you, shocked to see you in such a state and so late at night. It only took him half a second to react as he practically threw himself onto the ground and pulled you into the safety of his embrace despite how drenched you were. A sob you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back escaped your lips, and the gravity of the fact that you were officially alone dawned on you. Your heart ached in a way you couldn’t describe and all you could truly focus on was the fresh scent of his blueberry shampoo and vanilla soap on him as you briefly realized you must’ve caught him getting out of the shower. 

“Hey, hey,��� Felix attempted to pull away slightly to speak to you but you tighten your hold on his torso, not quite ready to let go yet. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.”

You said nothing, silently cursing yourself for being so weak – crying over a man who had never even smiled in your direction. 

“Felix, darling, what was all that noise?”

The sound of Felix’s mother’s sleepy voice caused you to jerk away from him, cheeks heating up in shame. You were on your feet in a second, bowing deeply to the kind woman who’d supported you through all of your hardships. 

“I– I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking when I came here, making all that noise. I just–”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Lee waved you off with a concerned smile. “I’ve been telling you for years that you’re welcomed here at any time of day. Come in, darling, you’ll catch a cold. Come!”

Felix moved out of the way so that you could enter his home, pushing you away when you tried to grab a hold of the box you’d carried through the rain so that he could take care of it himself. You knew that you must’ve looked deranged, but there was no hint of judgment in their eyes as they watched you take your shoes off at the entrance. Mrs. Lee guided you into the living room by the shoulders despite the fact that you knew your way through the house like the back of your hand. The tenderness of such a simple touch made your sight blurry with tears that you refused to release this time. 

“Darling, go take a warm shower and Felix will bring you a fresh towel and some spare clothes for you to change into, deal?” Mrs. Lee raised her brows as she waited for your response, you merely nodded. “Good, have you eaten?”

“N– No.”

“I’ll heat up some leftovers from tonight’s dinner, then.”

With that, she rushed over to the kitchen. You remained in the same spot though, letting the rain drip onto the floor as your body trembled from the chill the weather outside had instilled into you. Felix gently dropped the box on the couch, paying no mind to the wet plastic sheet that was still covering its contents. 

“Y/N,” Felix said, voice low and warm. “You told me you were coming tomorrow in the afternoon. Why are you here?”

“I lied,” you sighed defeatedly. “I just didn’t want you to worry too much and I thought that I could– I thought that I would be able to go in there myself. And I really was fine, really…until I found that stupid box.”

He glanced back at the box behind him, sighing. Felix didn’t say anything, choosing instead to lead you towards the second floor and into the bathroom he typically shared with his sisters, closing the door behind you. 

While standing under the scalding hot water in the shower by yourself, you couldn’t help but scold yourself at the lack of impulse control. You could have knocked like a normal person, instead you simply decided that you would bang on his door as though your life was in danger which in turn startled everyone in the house and probably the neighbors as well. The thing that had you so upset was not something that couldn’t wait until tomorrow, it wasn’t urgent at all. It was just a dumb box filled with letters that you’d never received while your father had been alive. So dramatic, you chided. 

Just when you were about to shut the water off, you heard the bathroom door open quietly while you assumed Felix gathered your wet clothing and replaced them with fresh ones along with a towel. Once the door closed again, you drew the curtains back to be proved right. You dressed quickly, not bothering to brush your hair as you made your way back down and into the kitchen only to find that Mrs. Lee was no longer there, instead you found Felix looking for chopsticks for you to use while you ate. 

“I told my mom to head to bed,” Felix informed you without looking up, placing the chopsticks on a napkin beside your warm plate. “What’s in the box?”

Your feet felt heavy with each step you took closer to your meal – to him. You leaned your lower back against the counter, gingerly taking the plate into your hands. “My father wrote me letters. A whole lot of them. But he never sent them.” 

Felix’s eyes remained on you, taking his place right beside you, leaving only a hair’s distance in between. In order to not get distracted by this silly fact, you shoved your first bite into your mouth even though you didn’t feel particularly hungry. He didn’t seem to notice, only waiting patiently like he always did. 

“The house hasn’t changed a single bit since I left,” you swallowed, voice thick. “I could tell exactly where he spent the majority of his time– the same spot at the head of the dinner table where he left stacks upon stacks of newspapers he never did bother to throw out, the reclining chair right in front of the TV where his weight had left its mark over the years, and his room that was a complete mess of clothes and books and papers and everything he ever used was thrown onto the ground.”

Another bite. Felix still said nothing. 

“My room was left intact,” you continued. “It almost felt like time had stopped when I left, and the clock only continued when I walked in again. It was clean– my father kept his own room in chaos but cleaned my room. Not a speck of dust anywhere, and I checked.” 

A third bite and then you set the practically full plate back onto the counter, you didn’t have the appetite to finish it. Felix wordlessly cleaned the area and left your plate in the fridge. 

“I think the only thing that changed there was that all the family photos were taken down.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut as your breath becomes slightly shaky. “Not even put away, he just– took them and smashed them on the floor and left everything there. I can’t help but wonder just how long ago that was, and how many times he turned a blind eye to the broken glass as he stepped over them.

And then I went down to the basement, and everything was pretty much the same except for this stupid box. All of the letters with my name and address written on the envelope and I just– I lost it. I don’t know what to think anymore, of him…of anything.”

Felix’s arms suddenly wrapped around you tightly, surprising you for a second before you returned the gesture. Your heart was beating erratically in your chest despite this not being the first time he’d hugged you, but this one felt like it did when you were a teenager. It was strong, yet gentle; protective, yet freeing. Although it’d only been a few weeks since you’d seen him, you missed him deeply. You had left town, and he remained here with his family and his happy childhood memories – though you visited often and he did as well, but still; you missed him deeply. 

“I think that your father loved you in his own twisted way,” Felix murmured in your ear at last, arms tightening around you. ��He was hurting, too. And you still didn’t deserve any of the things he did and didn’t do to you, because you were hurting and you were the child. But I think he loved you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes once more, hands shaking as you gripped Felix’s blue hoodie. 

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ☀️

The rain had stopped after a while, so you and Felix took advantage of that and sat on the roof right outside his bedroom window like you’d done a thousand times before. Overlooking the neighborhood in the dead of night as you lighted up the freshly rolled joint between your lips, inhaling the comforting flower before exhaling its smoke. The weight on your shoulders and mind was lifted as your anxiety dulled and your body relaxed. You passed the joint to Felix, who mimicked your actions. 

Your tears had long since dried, and the box had been left in the living room as you decided not to look at them tonight. Instead, you focused on the serene atmosphere that surrounded you and Felix like a warm hug. He passed the joint back to you, though you didn’t immediately bring it up to your lips again, letting it burn slightly between your thumb and index finger. Your eyes slowly found their way to Felix’s that had already been on you, analyzing you in the same way he had always done. You couldn’t tell if the glitter in his eyes were a reflection of the stars in the sky, or if they were truly his though they looked enchanting anyway. His smile widened when he noticed you meet his intense gaze and your heart burned at the sight, thinking back to your train of thought back on the front porch of your childhood home right before you’d come here. 

After all of these years, all of the tears, grief, arguments, and lashing out – he remained beside you, eyes on you as if you’d placed the sun in the sky yourself. You would never understand how he could stay by you when everyone else had left, there was nothing special about you other than your cutting tongue and vengeful heart. Though you couldn’t help but soften at the sight of him and his optimistic way of seeing the world. He was far too good, too pure for you or anyone else. And yet he sat there, subtly inching closer to you though you had still noticed. 

Lee Felix was in love with you, and had been for a long time. You were well aware, and had been for a long time. Though he never mentioned it directly and you decided that ignoring this would protect both you and him; but after all of this time, perhaps you’d maybe fallen in love with him too. It would be impossible not to let your own smile widen at the sight of his brown eyes watching you with so much genuine gentleness, to not feel your heart quicken every time he touched you, to not think of him when your bed was empty and cold, to not wish with every aching cell in your body that you were not as damaged as you were so that maybe, just maybe you would have a chance of deserving such a rare soul. 

Despite knowing all of this, you allowed him to move closer to you as the joint became smaller and smaller with each pass between the two of you. Eventually, your arms and legs were touching, and you could practically feel Felix’s erratic heartbeat. 

“What are you thinking about?” You surprised yourself by asking him, pointedly staring at the streetlamp directly in front of Felix’s house. His breath hitched slightly, though he didn’t say anything for a few moments. 

“I don’t know,” he eventually mumbled with a half-shrug. “Everything, I guess.”

“What is everything, Felix?”

His eyes met yours, wide with curiosity as he attempted to read you. Your own veins were pulsing with adrenaline from your boldness, though somehow you weren’t as mad about it as you thought you would be.

“I– I’m not sure.”

“I don’t believe you. What is everything?”

This was everything against what you’d done since you noticed his feelings for you, this was not keeping a safe distance. But you couldn’t help it, it was as though your heart had finally gained control over your brain and was pushing you to confront your own feelings for the first time in years. Because the truth is, your heart did burn for him in a way you couldn’t explain; it fluttered and skipped a beat a thousand times whenever he was around and it had been for as long as you could think back. You didn’t deserve him, but he thought the world of you – so maybe that was worth something. 

“Everything is–” Felix’s eyes searched yours, his breathing picking up slightly. “Everything is you.”

If your heart either exploded or simply stopped beating, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least. His words sent a chill down your spine, and you couldn’t stop the smile that snuck onto your face. 

“Good.” You stated, putting out what little was left of your shared joint on the roof before moving to straddle him, and you might as well have pushed him off and onto the ground before with the way the wind seemed to have been knocked out of him. His eyes were so wide, so surprised yet so excited. “To me, everything is you, too.”

His eyes scanned yours for a moment before he released an incredulous, airy chuckle. He didn’t get the chance to say anything, however, as your lips met his for the first time and the world melted away.

word count: 3.3k ☀️ posted: 12 • 05 • 2023

💬 a note from green;

Thank you so much for the request! I truly, truly enjoyed writing this for you. I just sat here and the words just kept flowing and flowing and I just couldn't stop, so I hope you enjoy it! (Side note though: I'm sorry if this a bit darker for your taste, I read it back and was like 'yikes, didn't mean to start off like that'.)

Anyway! I appreciate your compliments, always. Your feedback is something I genuinely look forward to every time I post, and so I'm happy that we're mutuals out here supporting each other because honestly – you're a magnificent writer as well, so I can promise that every time I think of something new for you, I'll grab my phone and tell you all about it no matter where I am!

Again, I hope you enjoyed this and thank you!

🪲 TAGLIST !

# @grandpafelixx

Hello! I love your writing

Can I ask for fluff with fue and nozel with something to do with their wedding rings? Idk how to explain this but like just cute fluffy feelings they get when they see the ring on their s/O's hand (this is just an example you can obviously do anything else you like)

Hiya~!

I was just talking to a friend about something related, and I just... had to jump on this as soon as it landed into my inbox so... I hope you like what I made in a spur of inspiration XD

Pairing: Nozel x gn!reader, Fuegoleon x gn!reader Genre: Fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Total length: ~1.2k

Nozel

Nozel walked through the halls of the Silver Eagle headquarters towards his office. The morning had barely dawned, and yet light was trickling through the windows that lined the wall to his left, painting the floor in a near ethereal glow. The world, was waking up right before him, just as he was.

But still, his mind wasn’t quite with him yet. His train of thought wasn’t on the piles upon piles of papers on his desk, or the schedule that he’d be on as soon as he sat into that office chair of his that was lined with satin, the same colour as sapphires.

It was on you. It was in the way light trickled through the window of your bedroom, which seemed even more other worldly than the one that was by his feet at that moment. Because, though he couldn’t quite explain it, there was something… something about the way the veil of light, as if organza, draped over your skin. And it was, because of the sight that greeted him each and every morning, that he couldn’t help but let his finger tips glide over you, over your arm, your hand… as if to cherish.

No… not as if to cherish, but to quite simply cherish.

Admire. Dare he say worship.

And as he placed his hand onto the cool surface of the metal door handle that led into his office, he thought of the touch of a different piece of metal. The embrace that reminded him, every waking moment, every minute, every second, breath and heartbeat, that you… were his, and he was yours.

He sat into the chair, and found himself uncapable of moving away from the thought that lingered in him, almost like insisting that he’d think it through. And he didn’t mind. He certainly… didn’t mind…

Not as that light, which existed within the confines of his office, now glimmered off of his wedding band, shone so brilliantly.

Almost as brilliantly as it would have from your wedding band. Almost as brightly as it had in your shared bedroom.

Almost…

He let his thumb glide over his own band, twirling it around his finger as if to make sure that it really was there, and he wasn’t simply seeing a dream. Because his ring being real meant that your ring was real too.

The piece of precious metal, adorned with gems, over which he had let his fingers glide just a few moments ago, as he kissed you goodbye for the day, hadn’t simply been a dream. It wasn’t a mere figment of his imagination in that ethereal space that existed in that room, in that moment of twilight.

There was a warmth within him that fluttered, and swirled and floated around his chest, as if embracing him from within. It was filling, and fulfilling. Like nourishment for his very soul. To know that he was lucky enough to have you, and that those rings were a symbol of it, of your love and affection.

And he’d never get tired of it, that gentle pressure around his ring finger. Because it reminded him about you. It whispered to him about it’d all be alright. How he could come home to you, and you’d be together, through thick and thin. Though he wished with all his heart that it’d be filled with easy sailing, more than hardships.

Life had thrown enough hardships your way already.

The ring reminded him of all the good things in his world.

It reminded him of you.

Fuegoleon

It was yet another, long day at work, filled with tasks even more stressing than the rest. Though he could barely feel the stress anymore, not after all the years of doing just what he did. But… still, he found himself fumbling with his wedding ring.

He twirled it around with his thumb, or simply ran it over the gilded surface of it, because it brought him comfort. It brought him security. It was sturdy, smooth, securing, and it was there, much like your relationship. And it was almost as if a tether to you, as strange as it might have sounded.

Because, ultimately, it was a symbol of how you were married. How you were your own people, but also, as such, how you had decided to live your lives side by side. And so, here the word tether, meant unity. It meant loyalty. It meant having someone always in your corner, listening to your qualms, and simply being there, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish.

It was a symbol of your connection. As if connected by a thread of fate itself, from his heart to yours.

And, quite frankly, having it, the ring, and seeing yours on you, felt natural to him, just as breathing. It was right. While being without would have been… like going against gravity itself.

He couldn’t fathom such a thing. He didn’t want to fathom such a thing. While of course he would never force you to stay, because he wanted you to want to stay. He wanted to you be with him, wear that symbol, out of your own volition. But to him being without seemed completely unnatural.

In fact, he couldn’t remember how it felt to be without it anymore. How that had been, in some point of his life, actually, for most of his life so far, had been the norm.

But now he could only shake his head at it. At that thought. And instead, he focused on another thought.

The way the ring would glimmer in the light of the sun as you walked down the corridor, or when you leaned against your hands and looked out of the window. Or, how the rose gold surface of your ring reflected the light of his flames late at night.

In that glimmer, that was reflected from your ring, as well as your eyes, there lied the glimmer of hope; of a future yet to come.

It might have been only a piece of jewellery on the surface, but what it meant, was so, so much more. Reassurance, love, affection, stability and loyalty. And simply running his thumb over it made tension melt away from his body, because it reminded him about how he’d get to come home to you. How he’d get to kiss you at the end of the day and hold you close.

Never had he imagined that a piece of precious metal would have done quite as much, but… it did. And all because, again, of what it meant.

Feeling it around his finger, was almost as good as seeing your smile. Almost.

Almost…

But, that embrace of the wedding band was also a promise of seeing that smile soon again. And that promise, was enough to make him smile too.

Another Life: part 1

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gender neutral reader

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the founder and CEO of one of the largest tech companies in the world. All the money in the world can’t buy love, something that Miguel so desperately needs, and the one thing that he could never afford. Or, the one where Miguel gets dumped by his freeloader partner and can only find solace in you, a down on your luck student with sweet drinks and an even sweeter smile.

Word count: 2k

Content: eventual sugar daddy AU, slow burn, coffee shop/bars, no use of (y/n), descriptions of financial hardship, Miguel is tired and is going through a break up (aw)

AO3 part 2 part 3 part 4

Miguel sighed as he watched the car of yet another failed relationship leave his property. He took a moment to wish his former lover well before closing the door, mechanical lock whirring quietly as it slid into place. The large man scrubbed a hand over his face before looking at the large boxes that littered his home, there was still a lot of unpacking to be done. He recently moved to a lavish penthouse in the Upper East Side to be closer to his office. He decided to indulge himself by going on a couple of dates with a number of (whom he formerly thought were) nice people. He thought it would have been different after his move, but every relationship he entered ended the exact same way. Being the CEO of a prolific tech company came with a number of risks, but it also came with a lot of money.

He sighed. A lot of money.

It was the same thing time after time, Miguel would meet an amazing person and spoil them rotten with anything they wanted; clothes, jewels, food, you name it. One week turned into two, into three, into months, enraptured in an unrequited embrace, only for him to find out that they were only using him for his wealth. He allowed himself to be manipulated by the charming smiles and whispers of his lovers, wanting so badly to believe that they deserved everything in the world. Desperate for anything to assuage the dark void that was slowly burrowing its way into his chest.

He needed a drink.

---

A sigh escaped your lips as you approached the end of your shift. It had been busy today at the bar; between running around serving tables and making drinks at the bar you barely had time to think. You were bussing one of the last remaining tables, figuring you’d get an early start on cleaning for the night. You picked up an empty glass, smiling to yourself; there were only 30 minutes left until closing, no customers left, and you could already hear your bed calling your name. You hummed softly, nothing could spoil your mood now.

“Hello. Table for one, please.” a quiet man said as he walked into the bar.

The glass in your hand almost shattered with the sheer force of your frustration alone.

A tall brunette man shuffled through the door of your workplace, ducking slightly as he did so. His broad frame filled out the entryway in its entirety, waiting politely. He glanced around the dim space, just now starting to notice the sheer lack of patrons and music.

“Shit, are you closed? I can go somewhere else,”

You checked your watch, 29 minutes to go.

Goddamnit.

“No, please. Come in,” You said in your best customer service voice, hoping you didn’t sound as tired as you felt. You were half hoping that the man would reject your invitation and walk out the door, never to be seen again.

He did not.

The man nodded and slowly made his way to sit at the bar,the poor stool squeaked dangerously under his weight.

“What can I get started for you, sir?” you wore an easy smile, looking to get this guy out as soon as possible.

He nodded as he settled into his seat. “What would you recommend?”

“That depends, how much are you hurting?” You took a brief moment to look at the brunette before glossing over the wide array of bottles you kept behind the bar.

“I’m not-“

“You walked in to drink at a random bar at 11:30 pm on a Tuesday. Men like you don’t do that unless they’re hurting.” You set down a bottle of whiskey onto the bar and threw him a crooked smile.

Large shoulders slumped as the man grimaced. “That obvious?”

“Just a little,” You held a glass up to the light to inspect it for spots before putting it on a napkin in front of the brunette before you. You uncapped the whiskey with ease and poured the amber liquid into the crystal glass, making sure to give the man a little extra for his troubles. “Wanna talk about it?” you asked, still working on his drink.

He chuckled softly, “What’s to tell? I just got dumped.”

You winced as you dropped a couple of ice cubes into his glass. “Ouch. I’m sorry.”

He held up a large hand. “Don’t be. It would have never worked out anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” you raised an eyebrow while peeling an orange “Why’s that?”

“That’s just how it is with me.” he said softly. You stopped working to look at him properly. His eyes were obscured by the shadows cast by the harsh contours of his face, but even in the dim light of the bar you could tell that they were a deep shade of crimson. His eyes held so much sadness in them, seeming to be permanently downcast.

Miguel was never one to talk about his issues, much less to a stranger, but tonight was different. He would allow himself to wallow just this once, to indulge in the cliché that is the sweet pity of a kind bartender.

“Y’know how it is. Get someone, and they’re really great. Until they aren’t.” he gave a half hearted laugh. “People just use me for...entertainment.”

You looked up at him, in awe at just how small the man managed to look at that moment. You garnished his drink with a curled orange peel and set it down on the bar. “Well, mister…”

“O’Hara.” he said. “Miguel O’Hara.”

“Well, Mister O’Hara, if I may be so bold. Every person who’s ever used you is an absolute shit bag and they don’t deserve your kindness. You’re on your way to bigger and better things and they’ll be sorry.” you smiled as you pushed his drink forward. “Old Fashioned.”

Miguel’s eyes fell from your smiling face to the golden drink in front of him. He didn’t typically drink an Old Fashioned, always thought they were too sweet.

“Thanks.” he smiled at you, the glass looked comically small in his large hands as he gingerly took a sip. Thick brows raised and he hummed softly, pleasantly surprised by the complexity of the complimenting flavors.

“Not bad.” He murmured into his glass before gently rolling it in between his palms. “What’s your name?”

“You’re gonna have to take me out if you wanna find that out, big guy.” You winked at him and he abruptly stopped fiddling with his glass, eyes widening comically.

“I-”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed at his reaction and told him your name. He went silent at the sound of it and repeated it to himself.

“What a nice name.” Miguel smiled while working on his drink.

“Thanks, it’s the only one I got.” you flashed him a grin and leaned on the bar. You were actually starting to enjoy his company, it’s a shame that he’d have to leave in a couple of minutes.

Before long Miguel finished his drink and thanked you for your service. He left a generous tip before saying one last goodbye over his shoulder. You waved him off before locking the door behind him, paying little mind to the strange feeling in your chest.

---

You flinched as your alarm clock rang on your bedside table. You turned your stiff neck to squint at the time; 5:45 am, you couldn't afford to press snooze again. You sighed heavily before turning the alarm off, turning to stare up at your cracking ceiling. Did you really need this job? Really and truly? What if you could just get 5 more minutes of sleep…

You glance at the clock again. 5:47. Now you really couldn't afford to stay in bed. You swung your legs over the side of the mattress, bristling slightly when your socked feet touched the cold ground. You went to the bathroom and took a brief moment to observe your reflection in the mirror, noting how the dark circles under your eyes made you look like a deranged racoon. Good. You thought, squeezing out some toothpaste. Maybe customers will be too scared to bother me today. After getting dressed you jogged down the stairs to get to your second job, a quaint cafe nestled in New York City’s East Village. You braced yourself during your commute, you would be facing the morning rush of caffeine starved corporate zombies that came in every weekday. You sighed, blowing air into your cold hands to warm them up a little.

“Hopefully they'll tip a little more this time” you thought wistfully as you walked into the subway station.

---

You let yourself in through the alleyway entrance of the cafe, sighing as you smelled baking bread.

“You’re late!” your boss half yelled from behind the counter. You shot him a wry smile and shrugged as you clocked in.

“Only by-” you glanced at your phone, “ten minutes!” you winced, maybe you should have jogged those last couple of blocks.

Peter B. Parker pouted at you and leaned against the clear dessert display case. “Whatever! Just help me prep, I have a feeling the rush is gonna be real bad.” You hanged your coat in the back hallway and winced, you really did feel bad about being late. Peter ran the cafe with his Aunt May, a fierce, kind woman who never hesitated to give you free desserts whenever you saw her.

You tore open a bag of coffee beans and grimaced, it was midterm season at the local universities, which meant that sleep deprived student after sleep deprived student would come in to get their hourly dose of caffeine. You bit your lip nervously as you thought about that huge essay you had yet to start for your own classes. You poured the beans into the espresso machine, half mindedly listening to the sounds as they filled up the small container.

You couldn’t go to school if you didn’t work, and you couldn’t work if you had to study! You were pulled out of your thoughts as you realized that you were now spilling coffee beans all over the bar. You swore quietly, working frantically to fix your mistake.

“You okay?” Peter asked from where he was stuffing napkins into a dispenser. You carefully scooped the remaining coffee beans into your hand and threw them away in a nearby compost bin.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Nice! Look alive, sunshine! We’re opening in 10.”

---

Miguel’s large hand rubbed at his tired eyes on his morning commute to the temporary office he’d be inhabiting until the construction on his new building was finished. He swallowed and looked at his phone, blinking at the time.

“6:30?” he muttered to himself, slowing his brisk walk to a slow stride. He didn't have to be at the office for another thirty minutes. Miguel adjusted the scarf on his neck as a movement caught his eye, he turned his head to see a tired looking man flip over a sign in the window of a nearby building to read “OPEN” in cute cursive letters. They made brief eye contact and the man in the window smiled and waved at him.

Miguel smiled and raised a hand in greeting, dark eyes looking up to read Cafe May above the window. Coffee, huh? He smiled lightly to himself, he supposed he could grab a couple of drinks for him and his employees, he did have the time to spare after all.

Miguel was just about to make a detour into the cute coffee shop he had discovered before his phone rang obnoxiously in his hand. Furrowing his brows, he looked down at the caller ID: Jessica Drew.

Shit.

Jessica wouldn’t call him if she didn’t have a reason for it. Miguel closed his eyes and sighed, he just wanted a quiet morning with coffee! Clearing his throat, he braced himself as he accepted the call.

“Hi, Jess.”

“Good morning, Miguel. Where are you?”

The brunette grimaced, right to the point. “East Village. Was there something you needed?” He heard the ruffling of papers and a small hum on the other line.

“Yeah. Tony Stark wants to hop on a video call within the hour to update you on the research he’s been running for the Arc Reactor.”

Large shoulders slumped as Miguel let out a small sigh. “Within the hour, huh?” He glanced at the warm cafe forlornly before making his way down the street towards the office.

“I’m on my way.”

Notes: Please do not talk to me about NYC geography, i looked at a map and nothing is consistent in my story lmao. I know Miguel is pretty OOC in this. He (at least in atsv) is not this kind, patient, or gentle. But he is sad! And that’s what they both have in common :) I think he was a geneticist in the comics, so he’d more than likely be running a lab or a bio tech company but…hey. I’ve released the second chapter to this story, but am unsure if I will continue, I guess it depends on how these first two parts are received. Thank you for reading, please lemme know what you think (if you want)

Yes! Elves would definitely love the idea of visible aging, and I'm also gonna put some emphasis on older women because of the always looming stigmas of them being "Not Allowed To Age Because Ew" A.K.A COWARDS

Just like how we'd drool over old Elves, they'd, in turn, drool at the sight of an older humans.

Drow that would shiver in delight at the extra weight that clings to thighs and hips with age. Hypnotize themselves with tracing their human lovers stretchmarks, worshipping the marks that crafted their treasure.

Wood elves that can't help but run their fingers through salt and pepper hair, enamored by the strains; Often comparing it to the changing of leaves during the shifting of seasons. How wonderful that humans can fully embrace natures cycles with ease, their little piece of tranquility.

High Elves that can't help but long for the stern, no nonsense attitude that develops with time. Secretly loving the pushback that they get from older humans, how said humans would not hesitate to drag them by their sensitive ears for being rude; Relish the calluses and age spots on your hands.

High elves practically whimper at the raspy timber with each huff you give.

They'd all love the prominent frown lines you'd have when stubbornly bartering with a merchant.

They'd love the creasing of your crows feet and deepening smiles lines while you laugh even more.

God, I love older women

Exactly!

Humanity tends to obsess over youthfulness and always looking young. It's one of the reasons why the other species see humans as an immature young species that still needs to develop.

Human beauty strandards would'nt even fly with other races. They'll just be confused on why you're making such a big deal of the lines on your skin and using anti-wrinkles creams. Everyone has them, it comes free with having skin.

Especially elves, they seem like they celebrate aging. The more visibly a person looks their age, the more attractive it makes them to elves. Even their elders lack this mature look because of elven genetics, so they helplessly drool over the older humans with their aging bodies.

They adore all evidence and marks of your life on your own body. The extra fat, the pudgy thighs, the body hair that comes with being an adult, the smile lines and rough hands.

Elves don't reach this stage of their life until they're in their 700th year. Only then do they begin losing their youthful look. Yet humans achieve that so easily, it's hard not to be enamoured with them.

Life in its purest essence, that's what they see when they watch you visibly age each year. Notice the difference between you on each birthday, the way you still kiss them the same as their love for you continues to grow.

Like how a flower is at its most beautiful bloom just a little while before it falls off. Humans age like the stars that formed them, shining gradually until disappear with a supernova that echos its light for years to come. Filling the empty night sky much like they filled every empty corner of Faerun, breathed life back into these fields that they turned into kingdoms and cities.

Elves see themselves as the watchers. The guardians of nature and humanity. They came from the fey and as much as they try to appease the natural order, they were never moulded from it much like the birth of humans was. Their bodies never came from clay and mud.

And their akin to immortality lifespans is a reminder of that. The urgency of a limited short lifespans has pushed the humans into doing and achieving so much, turning the impossible into their future and persevering despite all the hardships.

That's what the elves see when they look at an old human with shakey hands and wrinkled skin. With a short tempter and jaded view. They see the evidence of perseverance, of a star at the brightest stage of its life.

Because even when humans get older, they never lose their sense of curiosity, and their thirst for knowledge never is sated. They still marvel at magic, smile at the rain, and laugh at jokes. They still admire a passing butterfly, look at every rainbow as if it was their first.

Because when they're 80. They're not just 80. They're also 70, 60, 50, 20, 19, 18, and even 1. They're all their past selves wrapped into one. They have never lost their younger self. They simply sprouted another petal to act as the main cover.

My wishes for future portrayals of the Adventure cast

Since 2023 is coming to an end - and since my Twitter timeline is full of bits about the final Sailor Moon Cosmos movie -, I thought it was time for one final analysis post. Initially, it felt a bit like a "moping post", complaining about how the Adventure writers have written themselves into a corner with a lot of the characters - however, I felt like reframing these and finding a more positive outlook. For 2024, the 25th anniversary of the Digimon anime, and beyond that.

For the sake of this analysis post I will parallel the 12 characters with one another, thus talking about 6 pairs - either because they are facing similar issues or because they are on different ends of the potential spectrum.

MINOR SPOILERS AHEAD! (I will try to keep it as spoiler free for The Beginning as possible though!)

Taichi & Daisuke

Let's start with our goggle boys first, because they were the reason why I came up with this post in the first place. I had already paralleled them before, but what I haven't talked about yet is that they both represent certain aspects of the "main character syndrome" to me - aspects that can ALSO be found in Usagi Tsukino, and the final arc, Stars, in particular. All these three go through different types of hardships the plot throws at them; those familiar with my analysis posts know how much I consider Tri, the stageplay and Kizuna to be "Taichi suffer porn" and the Stars arc pretty much does the same with Usagi. It's one of the reasons why I have such a love-hate-relationship with these portrayals, because as much as I know how important they are for character growth, I also need there to be a catharsis. And in Taichi's case, I still feel like we haven't gotten there yet. Sure, it's implied that he's on his way to pull himself out of stagnation, accepting Digimon and the Digital World as a part of himself that will never vanish, etc. But on a very petty note, I still wish the writers could have invested more time into paralleling Daisuke and Taichi to one another, instead of just hinting at things. Because Daisuke, as much as he had to face dreadful moments and had to make tough decisions himself, never had to go through the same experiences of loss and grief as Taichi did. In a way, Daisuke is more the portrayal of "hope" in Usagi than Taichi is; Daisuke is usually a catalysator for other characters, he elevates and inspires others in more simple, but still very effective ways. In the DigiFes audio drama, we hear Daisuke say that he hasn't forgotten what happened to Taichi, that he wants to find a way to undo what happened and bring the Digimon back. It's hopeful, it's idealistic, it's Daisuke's good heart that reaches people. Unfortunately, we are not really seeing his own self-esteem struggles outside of audio dramas...

So what would I like to see for them in the future?

Taichi is giving other people hope too, but it's more because they naturally rely on him to be like that. What I need to happen for him is to see the spirit from the last few seconds of Kizuna, running through cherry blossoms with confidence and determination, and completely commit to that. I value Digimon for its realistic portrayal of human struggles and relationships, but with Taichi, they haven't found a good middle ground yet. The reboot absolutely was an attempt to maintain his main character status and popularity without the suffering - but in the process they stripped 90% of what makes his character interesting away from him and that made people more annoyed by his bland, perfectly positive attitude than anything else. I want him to embrace his struggles and see him find his own personal middle ground. Reconnecting with his family, part of the friend group, making difficult phone calls, actually figuring out a way to bring everyone together like they used to - up to a point where he can actually smile to himself again, as tough as early diplomat life can be, until we see him reunite with Agumon. I don't want everything to be perfect, I mean, heck, Taichi Yagami isn't even a canonically people-y person, he just likes to spend his time with weirdos he loves! But I want to see him get back on track. Give me a 15-30 minute short of that and I'll be happy.

As for Daisuke - I think the first audio drama for The Beginning was the perfect set-up for a mini-series dealing with "Daisuke Motomiya's struggles to set up his ramen cart career". Gimme 12 episodes of him facing different obstacles, whether they're physical or personal, that ACTUALLY highlight his qualities and developments in deeper ways, showing him to be vulnerable in front of someone.

Yamato & Ken

This may sound like a very obvious observation, but it's really interesting to me how similar the roles they have been fulfilling are in the context of being foils to the goggle boys. In fact, it's not even like they're impulse controls for Taichi and Daisuke respectively - but that they do exactly that FOR each other. Unfortunately, that makes it difficult for them to exist outside of this context - for example, I think The Beginning (and the third drama in particular) really WANTED Ken to be an integral part of the development, but couldn't really achieve that, even though there were SO MANY potential parallels to Rui. Any other than that, we don't really know what's going on with Ken - what HAS BEEN going on with him since 02 has ended. We know he is popular at uni, he's still a smart bean, in touch with the 02 group - but that's it.

The OG timeline still gave Yamato individual moments in Tri and Kizuna, but it didn't really allow him to bloom further yet - he couldn't really break out of his shell in the same vain as 02 already implied. Again, it's not necessary to give him a perfect happy end where his parents reunite and he'd be perfectly capable of making connections left and right - that wouldn't be realistic. And at least we got glimpses as to why he might get into space, which was nice. On the other hand, you could tell that they didn't really know what to do with him in the reboot aside from forcing him to be "the second strongest character in terms of combat" again for marketing reasons.

(And another thing that's similar to both of them and yet totally different - is the way their romantic lives are framed. And no, for once I don't mean that they're both hopelessly in love with their respective goggle boys, even though that is technically part of it too... Both their supposed future spouses are the ones who canonically make the first step towards vaguely romantic gestures - but we only see one of these interactions framed in a rather romantic light ever since 02 ended, whereas the other has been weirdly brushed under the rug ever since.)

So what would I like to see for them in the future?

Similarly to how I wanted a short showing Taichi's more human side again, I want something like that for each Ken and Yamato too. To see how their daily lives go. Show me Ken and Wormmon fighting crime and Yamato being confronted with WHY exactly there is a threat coming from space, which is WHY he chooses to go in that direction in the first place (even though he totally could have chosen to become a policeman just like Ken too, Tri and Kizuna made very valid points to him LOVING to investigate after all!!!). And I want the writers to COMMIT to show how they're able to form and maintain relationships, because really - we know they are both popular with the crowds, but struggle A LOT with that. ESPECIALLY in the romance department. I know and understand why they WOULDN'T do that considering the fandom backlashes in the past, but... It's been 25 years. That bandaid should have been ripped off a long time ago. Show us why it works - or why it doesn't.

Mimi & Miyako

Mimi and Miyako are loud, proud - and have become quite the fandom favourites throughout the years. Part of that may come from their more "international framing", colourful wardrobes and overall spunkiness within their respective friend groups. The most outstanding part about them is - they aren't plot drivers, but they're perfectly capable of pushing important moments due to them being able to give their emotions a voice and that's what makes them so vital. (What I personally found interesting - even though the fandom me included loves to frame them both as bi-sexual queens, only Miyako is implied to pursue romance, whereas Mimi's actions and love language portrayals can be seen as coming rather from a place of platonic affection.)

So what would I like to see for them in the future?

In my opinion, the writers really have been trying to make these two shine on their own for a while now and there isn't much I'd personally want to change about that. However, giving them mini-series about their careers, showing how they keep changing direction and discovering more things about themselves in the process could be pretty great though. I still want to see someone consistently designing amazing outfits for them (*cough* Sora *cough*), so they could show those off in every episode.

Koushirou & Jyou

I'm gonna say it now - the biggest problem these two have is the fact that they have been among the most consistently well-written characters through the course of Adventure AND 02 (and the stageplay), maybe only rivaled by Ken. Basically, they had already come to their own conclusions by the end of the first and second season respectively - and even if, of course, there were still things that could have enriched their stories, we knew where we were headed with them. They still had their flaws, but they were both continuously growing - even if it was just implied. And thus, ever since Tri, there have been only a few breadcrumbs (such as showing us Koushirou having a close bond to his parents by valuing their anniversary and Jyou showing Gomamon that he's not afraid of blood anymore and thus ready to move forward). Nevertheless, it took a few unfortunate "resets" of their characters for the writers to even have interesting things to say about them - including very questionable romance-leaning subplots that involved an invisible girlfriend nobody believed in and a superficial crush that didn't lead to anything.

Now we're at a point where their characters are basically narrowed down to "Guy who solves all problems and if he's not there, who else should know what's going on anymore, haha" and "Guy who is never around and always busy anyway, haha". The Beginning and the dramas literally made fun of it like that in the same way.

So what would I like to see for them in the future?

Without going too much into detail about this topic again, I really want there to be a short/mini movie dealing with Koushirou's personal life. My boy has been nothing but "work and plot and a lack of sleep and probably being this close to burn-out" for the past few movies (technically since DSB) and I want to see how his individual bonds to the characters have developed. Give me his struggles with interpersonal relationships, show me his setbacks in that regard, show me how he expresses his love languages in meaningful ways - and let the others show him that he is loved for who he is, not for the problems he solves. GIVE ME EMOTIONS.

Similar things can of course also be said about Jyou - give me a situation in which he comes first, in which he is the one who sets things in motion and saves the day for once. Because he WANTS to be around - Hikari's guilty tone in the drama wouldn't have come out of nowhere!!! On the other hand - give him his own mini-series, please, show me the adventures of Doc Kidou saving lives, getting accustomed to his work in the Digital World. Give him something good, he deserves it!

Takeru & Hikari

Most of it has already been said in here - but these two are basically glued together by the hip since forever and still haven't progressed much as characters ever since the end of 02. They're usually more fuel for other characters' development and there's less focus on themselves - The Beginning and the dramas at least imply they are on their way to be fine (aside from Takeru being implied to be a lightweight), but it would still be nice to see that a little more in-depth.

So what would I like to see for them in the future?

Actually, the second drama has already been a nice set-up - let there be a mini-series of these two telling stories about the adventures of the group, either leaving open whether those actually happened or had just been fiction! On the other hand, it actually would be nice to have a movie from their perspective on everything for once. Personally, I do not need any romantic framing, but just watching what may have happened ever since from their perspectives, their thoughts and feelings, would be incredibly satisfying.

Sora & Iori

Oh boy. I guess it's appropriate to call them "the forgotten ones" at this point. Because the writers aren't even particularly subtle about the way they have basically no idea what to do with them. (And even if either of them has very passionate singular fans, they still seem to be the least popular Chosen Children overall.) Even though both of them could have the most interesting developments if they were allowed to be portrayed properly, both of them have traditionally ALWAYS gotten the shortest end of the stick.

With Sora, this is particularly frustrating, because, just like with Taichi, we can TELL that this has not been the end of her story of self-discovery yet. No, we're still in the middle of it. But we're denied to actually see her development - and are just told that she, up to the point we have been able to watch, chose the same path as Jyou, to follow "family customs/wants". But unlike Jyou - who actually TOLD her that she has to do something because she WANTS it when they were KIDS - was never 100% committed to or happy with that. Which, again, is not satisfying to watch, because her path had always been about discovering what her PERSONAL path was. It's still a crime that To Sora wasn't part of Kizuna itself, because there are still a lot of people who don't even understand WHY she chose to stay away and thus see it as her abandoning the others... (Plus, it doesn't help that they basically left her out of the movie, because they didn't want to reduce her to being a love interest AGAIN - especially because, as mentioned, the writers were very careful when talking about those ships in general -, but apparently didn't know what else to do with her...)

With Iori, it's so hard to pinpoint, because, just like with Ken, we basically know nothing about him and what has happened ever since the end of 02. They couldn't even make an "utility character" out of him like Koushirou, because that is already Miyako's part - however, they at least managed to make him look just as overworked and close to burn-out as his dads Koushiroud and Jyou, so...

So what would I like to see for them in the future?

This may sound silly, but I want Sora to go on vacation. Let her go on a scavenger hunt to figure out what exactly she wants. Let her reconnect with the others, step by step - at least those she still feels close with, I don't want 11 reconciliation stories, but there are at least a few people that could seriously help INSPIRE her to get better again, to have an actual, genuine talk with her mother. Heck, let her mother tell her that she never wanted her to diminish herself! I want a Sora movie. Her being the key to solving an issue the gang faces, even if Piyomon isn't back - yet. Or a story of them having freshly reunited and Sora deciding to show her love to the others in individual ways.

With Iori, I want a special about him reconnecting with his dad's past, doing research, finding out his own path as well. Maybe talking to various characters (ESPECIALLY KEN AND TAKERU) in depth about feelings, demanding ACTUAL answers for once. Basically, sending him on a similar self-discovery journey as Sora would be beautiful. Just - putting emphasis on him growing up, being a vital part of the group as an individual, showing him be actually close to people and not just a third wheel.

That far...

and now, everytime I look at your eyes all I could see is how you trigger my most sacred fear: the fear of being stripped bare of my vulnerability without my consent. you poke my worst and the moment you see all the red coming out from the wounds, you walked away.

it wasn’t for you to see, the war in my head and the collosal ruins of my insanity isn’t for you to touch yet you subtly make yourself too comfortable engaging with my playful demons. what’s happening inside me wasn’t for anyone to carve. you aren’t allowed inside because you can’t tame my fangs picking out, you can only sharpen it more.

you opened my demons to the light when it was only to be shadowed in the dark. as much as I embraced my fate of being too profoundly familiar on how to make a circus out of my differences, I am only good at it within the four walls of a room I designed to stage with an invitation for those I written. you violated my sacred space and I can’t forget how I suffer because you didn’t notice the cracks and pain.

you have no idea how painful it is to save you from a part of me you are not ready to meet. my bones crackling and my head in an excruciating pain trying to not let my greatest protector out. how oddly familiar it is to feel this much anger and love from someone who isn’t him.

you didn’t broke me cause I’m already broken. you betrayed me the moment you made me feel that I have to earn your love, making me desperate enough to kneel and bleed. do you really think that all those years of loss and hardships made me strong? you saw the surface, but you never saw how my eyes lose all the light. you weren’t there when I’m begging the world to end me. you have no idea how much suffering I endure cause I can’t just jump off a cliff.

the worst of it all, you made me honest in front of the person I pledge my life to live for. I wanted to die, but I will never take my life. Living is my suffering, trying to live exhausts me so much that I can’t even breathe. You have no idea how many nights I beg the world to just kill me. But because of you, he now knew, and I will never forget that it started with you.

You didn’t lose me, but I will never look at you the same way again. I am not my mother’s kindness, nor my father’s forgetness. I am who they left behind. I am their ruin.

You really just have to go that far, we will never be the same again.

ghost of tsushima starters

❝ promise you’ll remain the good man i know. ❞   ❝ only fools have no fear of death. ❞   ❝ i am very much alive. but my patience is dying. ❞   ❝ i’ll make sure you are remembered. as a great warrior...a wise leader. ❞   ❝ the strength we need is all around us. ❞   ❝ the past cannot hurt you. ❞   ❝ this whole journey, and i never asked your name. ❞   ❝ fear drives you to be stronger. fight harder. ❞ ❝ sometimes...our only choice is to walk away from everything we know ❞ ❝ we do what we must. that is why you and i are both survivors. ❞ ❝ i can do good! i just...need practice. ❞ ❝ may your next life be more peaceful than this one. ❞ ❝ i knew it was too good to be true. ❞ ❝ i'll see what i can do. but if you’re lying to me... ❞ ❝ you’re too comfortable with that power. ❞ ❝ don’t ever try to kill me again. ❞ ❝ turn your back on a foe...and you will die with a sword stuck in it. ❞ ❝ youre not slipping away that easily. ❞ ❝ just stay closed. keep your sword sheathed. and let me do the talking. ❞ ❝ the things i saw still haunt my nightmares. ❞ ❝ i dont even know if you're real. ❞ ❝ victories don’t have to feel good. ❞   ❝ killing your own family...it’s harder than you could ever imagine. ❞   ❝ it’s safer for everyone if i just disappear. ❞   ❝ next time, leave some glory for the rest of us. ❞   ❝ peace doesn’t always come quietly. ❞   ❝ some people respond to kindness. others require a glimpse of steel. ❞ ❝ i am nothing if not honest. ❞ ❝ stop using people, and start thinking about how you can help them. ❞ ❝ you’ve had your vengeance. don’t stand in the way of mine. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to do it alone. ❞ ❝ not all words need to be spoken. ❞   ❝ there is time yet for revenge. i will savour their cries of pain when that time comes. ❞ ❝ i have learned to love the cool, damp dark. ❞ ❝ the last thing i saw was faces filled with hatred, rage... ❞ ❝ you didn’t think you'd get rid of me that easily, did you? ❞ ❝ we will celebrate when this is all over. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong with you? one moment we stand shoulder-to-shoulder, the next you’re ready to cross blades. ❞ ❝ a warrior learns from their mistakes, or they are buried by them. ❞ ❝ remember your training...and never leave my side. ❞ ❝ well...i guess this is goodbye. ❞ ❝ your visions will grow worse, driving you to madness and death. ❞ ❝ i can only pretend for so much longer. i’m not like these people and never will be. ❞ ❝ i loved you all my life, but i could never work up the courage to tell you. ❞ ❝ the proud do not last, and the mightiest of us perish like dust before the wind. ❞ ❝ you’re a vision of mercy. ❞ ❝ not bad, but only half-good. ❞ ❝ we make a good team, don’t we? ❞ ❝ an archer’s aim relies not on eyes...but on body, mind, and spirit. ❞ ❝ this is my fight. i don’t need your weapon. ❞ ❝ being right doesn’t always make things better. ❞ ❝ there is nothing easier than to prey upon the vanity of ambitious men. ❞ ❝ you weren’t looking so good. i let you rest. ❞ ❝ your intentions this time were...better than usual. ❞ ❝ what are you not telling me? ❞ ❝ trouble sticks to you like shit on rice. ❞ ❝ it’s strange being back after so many years...everywhere i look brings back memories. ❞ ❝ only a child expects perfection of their elders. ❞ ❝ when this is all over, what will you do? ❞ ❝ you are ruled by your emotion. ❞ ❝ is this how you want to be remembered? ❞ ❝ perhaps great men share all the aspects of their lessers, but more. great wisdom, but even greater cruelty. ❞ ❝ i cannot imagine the burden a leader like you must bear. ❞ ❝ our greatest enemies are the greatest teachers. ❞ ❝ death’s shadow embraces me. hand in hand we walk. ❞ ❝ breathe. you can’t fight if you hold your breath. ❞ ❝ i know you well enough by now, my friend. ❞ ❝ i can’t go back...to what i was. before this. ❞ ❝ i hope you one day forgive me for the choice i made. ❞ ❝ the wounds you dealt my spirit will never heal. ❞ ❝ why did you turn away from me? ❞ ❝ if you can keep moving forward, so can i. ❞ ❝ it’s a bad idea to sneak up on me. ❞ ❝ promise me something. don’t become like me. ❞ ❝ let me undo the damage i’ve done. ❞ ❝ ...and you want me to clean up your mess. ❞ ❝ the path ahead may take a lifetime, but i will walk it with you. always. ❞ ❝ whatever you believe i’ve become, i will always be your family. ❞ ❝ i wouldn’t be here without you. ❞ ❝ i’ll hunt you past the horizon if i must. ❞ ❝ can i count on you to do what needs to be done? ❞ ❝ that’s over now. you’re here. with me. ❞ ❝ i thought i’d lost you, i should’ve known you’d never give up. ❞ ❝ you can’t continue down this path. ❞ ❝ be careful. demons are everywhere and they fear nothing. ❞ ❝ corpses can’t answer questions. ❞ ❝ you deserve greater respect than this. ❞ ❝ it’s just like the stories my father told me. ❞ ❝ what you become tomorrow is your choice. ❞ ❝ just ask the last man who questioned my sincerity. you’ll find his head covered in flies out back. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t have lied. i still would have helped you. ❞ ❝ we came this far. we’re not turning back now. ❞ ❝ how do we survive if we don’t trust each other? ❞ ❝ without my help, the fear and pain will overwhelm you. ❞ ❝ whatever happens, we don’t retreat. ❞ ❝ the stories are true. i’ve never seen anyone fight like you. ❞ ❝ see how the enemy fear you? you are a true warrior. ❞ ❝ you want to share a drink...with me? ❞ ❝ maybe you should’ve just ran away. like you always do. ❞ ❝ good people have nothing to fear from me. ❞ ❝ your promises are just like you. worthless. ❞ ❝ as you wish, since you asked so sweetly. ❞ ❝ i know better than to argue. ❞ ❝ i hope i can find quiet places like this one, untouched by war. ❞ ❝ we grew up together, but you threw it all away. ❞ ❝ it was so chaotic. i felt you grip my wrist and then nothing. ❞ ❝ desperation can bring out the demon in the best of men. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to leave without you, but...i can’t stay. i hope you understand. ❞ ❝ a grown man, and you still can barely sit still. ❞ ❝ and i heard you had no sense of humor! ❞ ❝ knowing and doing are different. ❞ ❝ trouble follows me everywhere. ❞ ❝ indulging violence weakens the warrior...like too much food or drink. ❞ ❝ i can always tell when you want to ask me something. out with it. ❞ ❝ i am proud to fight beside you. ❞ ❝ i didn’t nurse you back to health to watch you throw your life away. ❞ ❝ all i want...all i need is to start a new life. ❞ ❝ look twice and shoot once. ❞ ❝ i think they’re afraid of you. you can be...intimidating.. ❞ ❝ you don’t even try to hear me. it’s like talking to a stone. ❞ ❝ so you try to kill me? have you lost your mind? ❞ ❝ you’ve sacrificed everything. for revenge. ❞ ❝ we can’t let anger consume us. or blind us to our friends. ❞ ❝ there is only one way this ends. ❞ ❝ i gave you everything. and you threw it away. ❞ ❝ do not question my integrity again. ❞ ❝ your father would be proud. ❞ ❝ the worst one can do is take advantage of their own people. ❞ ❝ you follow trouble. you should ask yourself why.  ❞ ❝ some of my favourite memories happened at this place. ❞ ❝ i told you this was a bad idea! ❞ ❝ keep fighting. we need people like you. ❞ ❝ are you the one who finally kills me? ❞ ❝ a warrior’s most important weapon is themself. lose control, and you risk defeat. ❞ ❝ first, get some rest. this is killing you. ❞ ❝ see that? i told you. there’s always hope. ❞ ❝ i hope the skills i gained through hardship can be of use to the people here. ❞ ❝ you have skill...but you nearly died rushing into battle. ❞ ❝ in the midst of battle, true leaders must stay rooted, stand firm. ❞ ❝ every time i get in a mess like this, i’m as scared as the time before. ❞ ❝ don’t be the next to disappoint me. ❞ ❝ save what we can, but know that everything passes away. ❞ ❝ i hope you understand, this is just a job. ❞ ❝ that’s a sad way to look at the world. ❞ ❝ seeing you like that...i’m still shaken up. ❞ ❝ sit with me a moment. ❞ ❝ doubt and indecision have destroyed armies. ❞ ❝ it’s so painful to...see you weighed down by sadness. ❞ ❝ on the slim chance some good comes of this...lead the way. ❞ ❝ you fought well, but we’re finished. ❞ ❝ the warrior’s mind is quiet but alive, like rustling bamboo. ❞ ❝ i’ve trained with a blade since i could walk. ❞ ❝ the visions...they’re still happening. ❞ ❝ in our world, being intimidating isn’t a bad thing. ❞ ❝ you have a talent. it’s time you use it, for the sake of our land. ❞ ❝ i've tried to teach you all i know...but you act more like a poet than a warrior. ❞ ❝ your path leads to madness and death. ❞ ❝ that’s twice you saved my life. ❞ ❝ these people stay because they believe in you. ❞ ❝ i didn’t choose this life. it was my only option. ❞ ❝ you came at me like i was your mortal enemy. almost broke my arm! ❞ ❝ i could use your help...in the fight ahead. ❞ ❝ you can be a little rough, but you have a good heart. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to kill you, stop! ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? afraid i’ll get more famous than you? ❞ ❝ war brings out who we truly are. ❞ ❝ take care where you place your faith. ❞ ❝ you seem lost in thought. ❞ ❝ i was getting tired of waiting for you. ❞ ❝ without my wisdom, you will lose your soul to madness. ❞ ❝ peace is an unattainable dream...but a dream worth fighting for. ❞ ❝ i’ve killed a thousand men. every death was sweet. ❞ ❝ what is the point of prayer when we are doomed? ❞ ❝ you’re like your father in more ways than you know. ❞ ❝ if you want my respect, earn it. ❞ ❝ and how many wars have you fought? ❞ ❝ you’re quite the butcher with that sword. ❞ ❝ people who sow chaos must be punished. ❞ ❝ i can’t help but wonder if you enjoy the violence. ❞ ❝ i kill only to protect our people. i think about that every time i reach for my sword. ❞ ❝ i'm sorry if my lack of skill offends. ❞ ❝ it’s the first time in days i haven’t felt like i was about to die. ❞ ❝ you fought like an animal...or a demon! ❞ ❝ there’s nothing more painful to me than a perfect bow...ineptly used. ❞ ❝ victory is won by warriors, not weapons. ❞ ❝ i couldn’t leave you to die. ❞ ❝ i made my choices. even knowing what they’ve cost me, i’d make them again. ❞ ❝ when’s the last time you slept or ate? ❞ ❝ you don’t get to give up. this land needs you. ❞ ❝ oh you pretend we are different, but we fight for the same thing. ❞ ❝ there are still places of beauty to remind us of what truly matters. ❞ ❝ true mastery begins where individual ego ends. ❞ ❝ a warrior faces danger with courage and resolve. this is how they endure. ❞ ❝ those stories...they're not entirely true. ❞ ❝ even the youngest warrior needs a full belly and a rested sword-arm. ❞ ❝ bad men are good at hiding their true natures. ❞ ❝ there is nothing left for me here. my hope is lost. ❞ ❝ i did what i had to. for you. ❞ ❝ forgive my manners. i spent all my time alone. ❞ ❝ is that any way to greet a visitor? ❞ ❝ if you continue down this path...you’ll be no better than the enemy. ❞ ❝ i am grateful for the times we share...but, i always want more. ❞ ❝ you lived your life in a castle. it made you soft. ❞ ❝ i used to know what i fought for... ❞ ❝ face them as a warrior with honour. not a monster. ❞ ❝ i don’t take lives, but i am not a coward. ❞ ❝ i wonder if i’ve crossed a line. ❞ ❝ you can’t expect everyone to understand what you’re doing, or why. ❞ ❝ your methods were brutal...impulsive...without honour. ❞ ❝ there’s plenty to fear without worrying about folktales. ❞ ❝ i hope you’ll find peace again soon. ❞ ❝ you do what you need to survive. and yet you despise others for doing the same. ❞ ❝ is that your excuse? your reason to kill? ❞ ❝ we have to keep pushing. even if it costs us our lives. ❞ ❝ cowards without honour deserve no mercy. ❞ ❝ i’ll fight beside you until the end. ❞ ❝ whatever happens, your forgiveness won’t change who i am. ❞ ❝ why should we settle for scraps when we deserve to be legends? ❞ ❝ only cowards strike from the shadows. ❞ ❝ the proud do not endure. the greatest of us fall in the end. ❞ ❝ perhaps some good will come of this. ❞   ❝ you will see nothing but death to the end of your days. ❞ ❝ legacy is more than a name. ❞ ❝ im sorry. i know what it means to lose family. ❞ ❝ one day we'll escape the endless wheel of suffering. ❞ ❝ is that a 'thank you'? ❞ ❝ i know what it means to be hunted. ❞ ❝ you personify fury and regret. ❞ ❝ that's all right. i want to hear you dig your own grave. ❞ ❝ either way, we’ve got nothing to lose. ❞ ❝ i’ve done what i can. the rest is up to you. ❞ ❝ forgive me, but you look fatigued. have you endured much hardship? ❞    ❝ i hope you find true honour in your next life. ❞ ❝ you deserve nothing less than death. ❞ ❝ this is foolish. surrender, and you can live. ❞ ❝ i too have pride in family. and i know what it’s like to live in their shadow. ❞ ❝ you were gone so long, i knew you were in trouble. ❞ ❝ so many of us here owe you our lives. ❞ ❝ what's wrong? what did they do to you? ❞   ❝ you’re lucky to be alive. ❞ �� i know your language. your traditions. your beliefs. which village to tame and which to burn. ❞   ❝ i cannot lose you again. ❞   ❝ i don’t seek revenge. but i will fight for peace. ❞   ❝ we will meet again soon. until then...travel safely. ❞   ❝ this is war --- not a test. ❞ ❝ we can save our home together. it doesn’t have to be like this. ❞ ❝ fear is a weapon. don’t let them use it against you. ❞

anon said. ooo a new blog! can you do confession headcanons where xiao, childe, and scaramouche react to reader confessing to them and the aftermath of it? thank you!  

a/n. xiao’s is kind of terrible ;; ue ue gomenasai

“i love you, [character’s name].”

SCARAMOUCHE.

huh? is this some kind of a joke? if so, it’s definitely not a good idea to mess with his feelings like this, especially when he also shares the same sentiment. scaramouche is almost impressed by your boldness. not everyone has the nerve to confess their love for a harbinger in front of their own faces, after all. when he’s hit with the realization that you’re serious, he secretly pinches himself to make sure he’s not in a dream.

the sharp pain that comes with his nails making contact with his flesh affirms that this is real. he stifles back a genuine smile, choosing to stay calm despite the bliss he’s currently feeling. “i guess it can’t be helped. hmph, you should be lucky i’m rather fond of you as well, [name].” he says that, but he’s the fortunate one to have successfully stolen your heart before others can claim you for themselves.

unfortunately, his time with you is quite limited due to his affiliation with the fatui, so any fleeting moments are captured in photos from the kamera to look back on. he secretly carries a picture of you while he’s out of town on important missions so that he won’t miss you too badly. he fondly looks at your still, yet smiling face to cheer him up after a tough work while everyone else is asleep. well, almost everyone.  

“hmm, who’s that in your hands, scaramouche?” childe asks, gesturing to the photo the harbinger is admiring fondly. scaramouche rolls his eyes to hide his slight embarrassment and hesitates a bit before he answers.  

“oh them? their name is [name], my... sibling.” childe almost gapes in disbelief as he looks at the blue-haired man in shock. 

“you have a sibling? why didn’t you tell me? they’re so cute!” the 11th harbinger squeals in delight, which honestly irks poor scaramouche. he scoots away to give himself some space as he tucks the picture in his pocket for safe-keeping. 

“you didn’t bother to,” he explains matter-of-factly. “now if you’ll excuse me,” he stands up from his crouched position and dusts himself, “i’m going to take a walk, alone.” 

he wanders through a dark forest and grassy fields, until he finds himself standing on top of a cliff, the moon glowing brightly above. he peers up at the twinkling stars in the sky and imagines you beside him, watching the breathtaking view together. humming an unfamiliar tune to himself, scaramouche muses over the past and replays your confession over and over again. if he could, he would respond differently than he did before. 

‘i love you.’ those three letter words echo in his ears like a melody and he allows himself to smile. 

“i love you too, [name].” 

XIAO.

he automatically perks up an eyebrow in confusion. what? is it just him or did you seriously admitted you love him? xiao stammers for a brief second, no words spilling out from his partially open mouth. what is he supposed to say? “thank you?” “i love you too?” 

when he pulls himself together, xiao shakes his head and frowns. his answer is clear and simple: no. you mortals don’t understand just how dangerous it is to get close with someone like him - a yaksha. drowning in the brink of debt and despair, he doesn’t need you to suffer all the same. the dejected expression on your face pains him to a considerable degree, yet he convinces himself, this is for your own good. 

since then, he avoids you like the plague in hopes that your feelings for him will disperse into flames. you deserve someone better, someone who won’t place you in harm’s way, someone unlike him. out of kindness, you still visit him from time to time while you go and do your daily commissions, but your interaction is heavily tense and an air of discomfort seeps through your gaze. why does his chest hurt as if he was impaled with a knife and so much more when you look at him like that? the thought of breaking down and revealing the truth that he’s also in love with you tempts him eagerly, but his pride and anxiety tides over his desires. 

you, on the other hand, is aware that xiao harbors feelings for you. you discovered this secret of his when you climbed the stairs to the spot on the balcony where he was to surprise him with a greeting, but your ears captured a faint voice in the night breeze and you couldn’t stop yourself from eavesdropping on the little conversation xiao was having with himself. he muttered about “rex lapis”, the fate of liyue, and etc. you were about to leave him to his own devices, but the next words he said stopped you in your tracks. 

“will [name] accept me if i say i love them? probably not, i suppose.” you left before he could spare a glance in your direction and a smile graced your features as you happily walked away. and being the persistent individual that you are, you inquire verr on why he’s acting so cold towards you, desperate to seek the answer you need. “xiao is, as you’re well aware, a yaksha who’s experienced hardships throughout his life, and probably lost loved ones along the way. i’m sure,” she turns to look at the setting sun in melancholy, “he doesn’t want to hurt anyone important to him again.”

you plan ahead of time for the best way to approach him without giving him any chance to escape. unfortunately, this is the only thing you can think of as you place a hand on either side of his head, trapping him between you and the wall. xiao looks at you curiously, devoid of amusement. he crosses his arms and frowns. 

“what are you doing?” your hands twitch and you chew on your bottom lip nervously before you explain yourself.

“i heard from verr why you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder, that you don’t want to hurt anyone important to you, but...” you trail off to blink back the tears threatening to burst. 

“it hurts, when you ignore me like this.” your voice is quiet enough that he needs to step closer to hear you. “it hurts how selfless you are. can’t you be selfish just once? i meant what i said and i’ll say it again. i love you.” 

xiao stammers, at a loss for words, before he starts sniffling and buries himself in your arms, crying out apologies as you stroke the back of his hair and gives a closed-eye smile. “it’s okay, xiao. i’m sorry too, for not realizing how much you’ve been suffering by yourself. you don’t have to carry the burden alone anymore,” you say, looking into his tear-filled eyes, “i will always be here with you, no matter what path you choose to take.” 

“even if that path may eventually hurt you?” he whispers in a cracked voice, fingers curling around your sleeves. you nod. 

“it’s worth the pain as long as i can hold you in my arms, like this.” he chokes out a bitter chuckle and wipes away the glistening tears. 

“i love you too, [name].” 

CHILDE.

the harbinger blinks his cerulean eyes once, then twice, and... you find yourself pulled into his arms, as his lips uplift into a jovial smile. “really? you love me? [name], i had no idea you held such deep admiration for me.” you playfully roll your eyes and chuckle as you wrap your own arms around his body, fondly reciprocating his affection.

he’s the fastest to accept your confession than the other two men. you’d bet he would scamper to where he’s staying at to tell every grain of detail to his adoring relatives. 

he writes letters to his siblings about your daily dates and the progress you two are making in your relationship. they tease him for the most part, but they’re happy that he’s found the love of his life and requests that he bring you along with him on his next visit. childe smiles in relief, content that they accept you already despite never meeting you and he asks you if you’d like to come with him to his home country where you can introduce yourself to his family. without hesitation, you agree instantly, eager to meet the siblings he gushes about. 

snezhnaya is colder than you thought, as you hug yourself to preserve your warmth, even with the layers of clothing wrapped around you. “we’re almost there, [name].” childe notices your trembling and rubs his gloved hands against your back. “sorry, it’s a bit chilly here, but please bear with me.” 

you nod and continue on. when a building enters your field of sight, childe stops and grins shyly at you. “this is the place.” breath materializes in front of you as he gestures for you to head on in. almost immediately are you greeted with a little embrace as a young boy wraps his fingers around your waist and grins up at you. 

“so you’re the one who big brother said he’s in love with? have you kissed before? when is your wedding?” the child bombards you with questions excitedly and a girl has to pull him away from you, tonia, you guess. 

“teucer,” childe scolds gently, a light blush colouring his cheeks, which does not go unnoticed in his siblings’ eyes, unfortunately for him. 

a wedding, huh? seeing the sparkle in your eyes, the laughter in your voice, and the warmth of your touch as you idly chat with his siblings makes him hope, that maybe in the distant future, he’ll brave himself to take the next step to further deepen your relationship, for he wants to be with you always. 

as he tucks away the last sleeping child, childe wanders in to your shared bedroom, surprised you’re still awake. “you really love them a lot, huh childe?” he nods seriously, as you pull him to lie down comfortably into bed. 

“but do you know something else?” his breath tickles your ear as he intertwines his fingers with yours, offering a meek smile. you shake your head and nuzzle closer to him. 

“i love you too, [name].” 

would you do tom holland x fem!reader

You had finish your photoshoot, as you drive to go golf course to see Tom. You really wanna surprise Tom with your arms around his neck, peck his lips. You watch him as he could hit the golf. You were so proud of him.

(thank you and have a a good day) <3

Hi! Thank you for sending your request, I had an amazing time writing it and I hope you like it! 💕 Also, I made fem!reader an actress, I hope you don't mind.

Your day started off slow as you woke up very early from the excitement of being back home. You were extremely tired after getting only a few hours of sleep due to your late arrival at the hotel but couldn’t contain your happiness. For the last couple of weeks, you were working on your newest project in the USA, spending around twelve hours filming every single day, working hard for your recognition. The job was an amazing opportunity to spread your name in the industry as you worked with the most incredible actors in Hollywood. You made sure to give 100% of yourself, hoping that one day all the work would pay off. Undoubtedly, it did as everyone, including the director, was impressed with your work ethic and talent. There was only one thing that made the whole experience unbearable - the separation from Tom. You’ve been dating for almost two years, but with your careers and crazy lifestyle sometimes you didn’t see each other for months. As in your case now, it’s been weeks since you held Tom in your arms or were held by him. It’s been weeks since you could taste him on your lips, being able to feel his body pressed tightly to yours. You missed him mercilessly and the time difference didn’t help you either as when you were going to sleep he was getting up and vice versa. You always knew what it took to maintain your relationship and that you’d eventually face some hardships due to your occupation but this time it seemed like work was even more insufferable than usual. You couldn’t stand being apart from him anymore hence your decision of taking an early flight to London. You departed right after your wrap-up party dreaming of nothing else than Tom’s arms around your waist, squeezing you in a longing embrace.

Tom knew you were coming home and he has never been more excited to welcome you back than this time. The lack of your presence was hard on his end too. He took a break from filming for a few months after years of chasing his success to be with you and he understood you had to work but still couldn’t help but miss you. He missed everything about you - even your voice as he only could hear it in the speaker of his phone, which was similar, yet so different from his favourite sound. There was no surprise that Tom was counting days until your return but you haven’t informed him of the change of plans yet, which gave you an advantage since you wanted to surprise him. That’s why you didn’t tell the taxi driver to go straight to his house after you landed, no matter how much you wanted to.

Now that you were finally here, you couldn’t help thrill overcoming your senses and butterflies erupting in your stomach as you imagined seeing Tom’s pretty face for the first time in a while. From all the emotions you almost forgot about your photoshoot. You were invited to be on the cover of British Vogue as your career was taking off thanks to your outstanding performances in your latest movies and the hype around your current project. You got informed about the photoshoot quite late but agreed on the spot, feeling honoured, now impatient to have it done so you could finally see your man. You haven’t told Tom about it, having the surprise in mind. You still had a few hours until you had to leave so you picked your phone and immediately noticed an unread message in your notifications. Clicking on it you felt a wide grin creeping on your face reading the text. Can’t wait to see you soon darling. Two more days! - Tommy💓

By the time you finished your photoshoot, Harry had sent you his current location as you implicated him in your plan. The boys decided to go play some golf as they didn’t have any work to do and the weather was too nice to stay inside. Getting in the car, you couldn’t believe that it was finally the time you could see Tom. You felt your whole body shiver at the thought, hands trembling and heartbeat speeding up, going through the same emotions when you were going on your first date.

You got to the golf course after what felt like hours, giddy from the excitement. You practically ran into the building to meet up with Harry waiting for you in the hall. Immediately trapping him in a loving hug, you greeted him, missing him no less than your boyfriend. After a sweet, but short reunion with Harry, he grabbed your hand and led you into the course, aware of how much you wanted to see the rest of the family, especially Tom.

The guys had been halfway through the game by the time you caught up to them, Harry rejoining the game while you stayed by the cart for a few seconds admiring your man as it was his turn to hit the ball. You watched in awe how his defined muscles were flexing when he gripped the club, securing his position. You peeped that he must have been working out hard at the gym as the shirt he was wearing was swathing his torso unusually tightly, making your mind go places. You were so proud of him for making an effort to stay healthy and looking after himself. He looked unexceptionally well dressed in sportswear, his silhouette illuminated by the sun, making his skin glow in the light. His clenched jaw and popped-out veins were enough to make your knees weak and you were sure that you were drolling just by gazing at him. Everything was perfect in the man standing in front of your eyes and you couldn’t believe he was yours.

The sound of the club hitting a ball brought an end to your daydreaming, making you blink a few times to fully register what was happening. Tom, Harry, and Sam’s voices rang in the air, manifesting a hole in one. Taking advantage of their distraction, you skipped to wrap your hands around Tom’s waist, kissing his back softly. You could feel him flinch at the action, muscles tensing under your touch, but relaxing as soon as his senses took in your familiar scent. Taken aback, Tom quickly turned around in your embrace, jaw dropping low at your sight.

“No way!,” he gasped, throwing himself at you. Crushing you in a tight hug, he picked you up and spun around making you giggle like a child at his happiness. When he put you back down, you felt him drop his head in the crook of your neck, enjoying the proximity, golf long forgotten. You stayed like that for a while; Sam and Harry moved to the next hole leaving you two to catch up and have a moment for yourself.

“I missed you so much, darling,” you heard Tom mumble into your skin, slowly getting emotional from finally having him in your arms again, being able to feel his body pressed to yours.

“I m-missed you too, Tommy,” the crack in your voice alarmed the brunette. Pulling away, he could see a few tears threatening to fall in the corner of your eyes so he quickly wiped them away, cupping your face with his palms and connecting your lips in a slow, passionate, full of love kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him even closer to deepen the peck, Tom’s tongue grazing your lower lip asking for permission to enter your mouth. You let him in, fingers running through the dark curls forcing a small moan out of Tom; the sound you could listen to every single day. How good it was to be back.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI || WITH YOU

| featuring : fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors, but other than that n/a

| form : imagine

| word count : 1773

| published : 05 december

| request : Can i have a regular black coffee with Megumi finding y/n crying on the bathroom floor bc she has been experiencing a burn out?🥺✨Your jujutsu kaisen writings is what keeps me sane at the moment💞😭✨

| barista’s notes : hey hey hey~ guess who is back? it’s me barista violettelueur ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ and when i was typing this out, i was listening to ‘Lost in Paradise’ by ALI and AIKO, which all of you know, it’s jujutsu kaisen’s ending! i love it so so much  ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ but lowkey, it doesn’t match the theme of this imagine here ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ other than that, thank you so much for loving my work and for the cup of classic black coffee order (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come again soon!

Exhausted. Heavy. Drained. That was all you felt.

Once you were able to go through the door of your dorm room, all you wanted to do was to fall flat on to the wooden floor and lay there for who knows how long. 5 minutes? 30 minutes? An hour? Maybe even a whole day? You were just extremely exhausted. However, you knew that you had to train with your classmates for the Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event the next day, so sleeping on the cold floor was no the best option.

Slowly struggling to make your way to your bathroom, you quickly gripped onto the side of the sink so you didn’t lose your balance due to your fatigue from today’s mission that you had to go on alone. From what you could even recall for the few past weeks, you were constantly being set on different missions at random times due to the lack of sorcerers there were in the school nowadays. From your knowledge, the third years were suspended for the time being, Gojo was constantly being set out for domestic travels as well as some business behind the scenes that you weren’t informed about, Nanami reported to you that he was investigating a crime that had occurred at Kinema Cinema and the first years (your year) and the second years were training for the event, leaving you the only Grade 1 sorcerer within Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College to be set these missions that seemed to be endless at this point.

Since the beginning, you knew that this was going to be your life once you step foot into the Jujutsu Sorcerer school, but you weren’t aware of the constant hardships that were randomly going to be set out to you. Ijichi even commented that this was unusual for a first-year student like you to be sent on numerous mission like the ones you’ve completed - some even being back to back on the same day - leading him to apologies every time you would enter his car to which you would always tell him that it was never his fault - how could it be? It wasn’t his fault that the higher-ups were demanding you to go off to do these missions. You felt exceedingly guilty for making him continuously drive you around to the locations and waiting for you to finish, not even knowing if you were going to come back alive or not.

However, you couldn’t be more grateful that he was in your company during this draining time. If it wasn’t for Ijichi in your presence, you knew you would have broken down earlier than you had now.

Turning on the faucet, you immediately heard a stream of water gushing from the spout before it was slowly filling up the bowl with the clear liquid. All you wanted to do was to plant your face in and scream out all the intense pressure that has been placed upon your shoulders. Yet you knew, it wasn’t that easy. It never was. 

Before you would even realise what was happening, the hand that was gripping onto the sink suddenly slipped causing the remaining strength that you had in you to disappear as your body immediately fell onto the white tiled floor. 

You were at your breaking point.  

You felt tears begin to uncontrollably stream down your face causing you to grip the top of your head before lacing your fingers tightly onto your hair - so tightly that you could pull out a few strands from your clasp - trying to release at least some of the pressure that was running through your veins.

 Suddenly, you heard a knocking sound from the distance, for a second, distracting you from the state that you were in now. However, you didn’t answer. You didn’t have the strength to. You didn’t have the effort to tell the person to go away nor open your mouth to make a sound. The knocking still continued even with your lack of response, but still, there was no response with you.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

Megumi. Megumi was at the door. Yet you still didn’t have the effort to answer your boyfriend. You were just at the point where you were just burnt out - the higher-ups have really burned you to the point of mental and physical exhaustion.

“Y/N, your door is unlocked, I’m coming in,”

‘No...please don’t’

However, there was no use. You had already heard the click on your handle being pushed down before your door swung open, followed by the tapping of footsteps being heard as Fushiguro began to walk into your room, trying to locate where you were.

“Y/N, where are you?” Fushiguro asked in a worried tone since he was informed by Iijchi that you had returned and that you had most likely stationed yourself in your dorm room after being treated by Ieiri, due to the number of missions that you had completed today. Due to him not being able to see you for even a few weeks without you heading off somewhere, Fushiguro wanted to check up on you to make sure that you were okay and had the idea you had probably fallen asleep. Yet your figure was not on your bed, it was still neatly made from this morning and there was no sign that you had even sat on it. 

Shutting his mouth, Fushiguro began to carefully listen to his surroundings trying to see if he could hear you or anything out of the ordinary in his search for you, only for him to suddenly detect the sound of water being poured or spilt causing him to turn towards the bathroom, only to discover the door opened with the faucet tap running rapidly as water began to overflow onto the ground, leading him to rush into the bathroom to turn it off.

Letting out a sigh of relief once the water stopped, he immediately turned around to find you on the ground, hands in your hair as tears flowed down your face. You looked terrible to put it into lighter terms. You looked like you’ve been through the worst wreckage. You looked like you had lost the will to even move. 

Quickly crouching down to your level - ignoring the water on the ground, Fushiguro managed to carefully lift your body up before placing you on his lap trying to comfort you in any way possible, as he then took a hold of your hands - causing you to relax your grip - to gently remove them from your hair making you weren’t in any pain from the tight grasp you had. Pulling you closer into his embrace, Fushiguro began to slowly run his hand up and down your arm to try to calm you down from your tearful fit before using his other to push away any straying strands of hair that were in your face, so he would wipe away any of the tears that were still present on your eyes or cheeks.

“Shhh, I got you, You’re okay, I’m right here with you,” Fushiguro tenderly muttered to you before placing your head on the crook of his neck as he then began to run his fingers through the strands of your messy hair, carefully brushing out any knots that were created. Fushiguro didn’t even have to ask what was wrong. He already had a slight idea of what was going for the past few weeks.

Due to the lack of sorcerers being available within the school and the stack of higher class missions being piled up, you were the only sorcerer qualified to even go on these missions leaving you to undertake these task alone - much to his dismay, but he had no obligation to go due to his grade as a sorcerer himself. He knew you were strong based on being a sorcerer as well as your emotional and mental state, but everyone has their limits, no matter how long or short one person can hold on to their sanity. Everyone has their limits - he was surprised that you were able to hold on for this long, to be honest, he didn’t think he himself could have lasted as long as you did.

Every day when he had a minimal chance of seeing you, Fushiguro slowly began to notice that you were gradually breaking down, you were becoming more worn out, you were becoming less motivation, you lacked in performance when you were able to train with everyone, and you were slowly detaching yourself from everyone - you were somewhat becoming like him in some way. Fushiguro tired to lighten up your mood by inviting you over to his dorm to watch a movie or to simply cuddle with him, and he knew that you were exceptionally grateful for everything that he was doing, you showed it with the most beautiful smiles and light laughs that you could give him. He just felt so useless.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he suddenly felt a pair of arms being wrapped around his neck, causing him to realise that you seemed to snap out of your own daze. “Thank you so much, Megumi….I’m so happy that I’m with you,” you whispered to him before you tightened your hold on his neck - but not to the point where it was suffocating - before you continued with the three words that always made his heart stop before it would go into a rage as if he had just ran a marathon, “I love you,”.

Even in your current state, you still managed to somehow make Fushiguro feel like he was helping you - to which he completely was, he just didn’t know  - leading him to engulf you in his arms before placing a light kiss on your temple to help you relax your body and calm you down even more.

“I got you, I’m right here with you Y/N,” Fushiguro replied back to you before tightening his hold on you as if he was the one that needed comforting, “I love you too,”.

Being with Fushiguro was something you knew to never take from granted, he was like the moonlight that comforted you when you felt so alone in the night. Fushiguro wasn’t someone to express his affection so openly, but for him to try to help you in every way possible - even if he was somewhat out of his character - was something you could never take for granted from the little kisses to the little dorm invites - yeah you really were lucky. Fushiguro Megumi was really the perfect boyfriend

“With you, I know I’m going to be okay Megumi”

(The Hobbit) Thorin x Reader: Dragonsickness and the Heart

(Author’s Note:  Well, it’s spring, and usually spring gets me in a hobbit/LotR mood, so here we are.  I actually wrote a shameless OC self-insert a few years ago, and decided to just take a section of it an make it a reader-insert.  

Warnings: Thorin acts like a lil creep, but in the end he wouldn’t do anything to hurt reader.  

While under the effects of the dragon sickness, Thorin says some things... You wonder if it’s the sickness talking, or perhaps it is his true feelings coming out.

Enjoy!)

   You struggled with the dwarvish armor, finally letting it fall to the ground. It was much too big and clunky: you could barely stand in it! Thorin had given the order for the Company to armor up, but it didn’t look like it would be possible for you. The clank of metal sounded in the armory around the corner, and you let out an exasperated sigh. You had taken your chosen armor to an empty room to avoid the humiliation as you attempted to try the foreign material on. Even after you managed to finally figure it out, the weight of the metal was too much. You weren’t exactly in the mood for endless teasing on Fili and Kili’s part. Dwalin might even find it humorous and would never let you live it down.

   Footsteps sounded around the corner, and you whirled around to come up with an excuse or explanation of some sort as to why you were hiding away like this. To your surprise, it was Thorin, all armored-up and looking…well…looking pretty good.

   Even with everything that had happened, after how crappy of a person he had become since the dragon sickness took its hold, you were surprised to feel your heartbeat pick up at the sight of him. He entered the dimly-lit room, eyes flickering from you to the bulky armor lying on the floor. He flashed an amused smile that made you feel weak.

   “Trouble?” he asked, pacing over with a raised brow.

   “Uh, y-yes,” you mumbled back, unable to meet his intense gaze. You tried to remind yourself that this wasn’t him. He wasn’t himself, yet it didn’t stop your heart from doing flips in your ribcage. “It obviously wasn’t going to fit. I don’t know why I tried anyways.

   “Because you’re you,” he responded with a chuckle, prompting a nervous laugh from you. He was being friendly, but there was still something off about him. His voice. He spoke in such a low and silky tone, practically laced with dragon sickness. It made you feel uneasy and not necessarily in a good way.

    As Thorin took a step forward, you caught movement in the corner of your eye and flinched out of instinct from being on the road. He noticed and paused, holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm. He only meant to give you something, he said. When you nodded, he rounded the corner until he was out of sight.  Moments later, he returned with a bundle of armor in his hands though these were different from the weighty pieces you had already tried. He handed you the iron shoulder plates first, and you marveled at the simple designs cast into them.  They looked as if they’d been made just for you.  Judging by the warmth in Thorin’s eyes, they had been.

   “These should suit you better.”

   You tentatively accepted the shoulder plates, fiddling with the leather straps that would hold them in place. You tried putting your arm through one loop as if it was a sleeve, but it felt wrong, so you tried a different angle, a different loop…

   As if reading your mind, Thorin took and unbuckled it. “Here.” 

   You gulped as he carefully took your arm and put it through the correct loop. Each movement he made was slow and drawn out, and you wondered for a minute if he was doing it on purpose just to make your heart race. It wasn’t doing anything to help the situations of your one-sided love towards him. You resolved to accept the rest of the armor politely and go find another hidden room to figure it out on your own, but as soon as the shoulder plates were secure, Thorin proceeded to strap on a chestplate.  Then he continued with a sort of metal shin guard.

   “There,” he said finally, checking some of the straps to ensure they were in place. “You will be much better protected.”

   “Yeah,” you murmured, releasing a breath.  “Thank you.”

   He gazed at you, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. “I will do all in my power to make sure you are safe.” Your eyes widened as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You should know I have grown rather fond of you, _________.”

   You remained still, absolutely shocked at the unexpected statement. It felt as if your body wouldn’t respond.  Surely, he doesn’t actually mean what he says? It must have been some strange effect of the dragon sickness, right?  

   You had joined the Company early in the journey in hopes of changing the ending.  You and Gandalf had an understanding that you would gain the Company’s trust and use your knowledge of Middle-Earth to ensure the line of Durin survived.  From the moment you appeared on the dirt path in front of the Company in your modern clothes feeling lost and uncertain, Thorin hadn’t taken much interest other than to bark orders to you or spare a disdained glance at you and Bilbo at your “softness” when it came to life on the road. 

   Over time, you learned to place your trust in the Company and to do your part so they’d trust you- including Thorin.  He and you had started to bond, especially in Lake-Town when you’d spoken to each other outside in the snow during the celebration of the dwarves’ return to the mountain.  You even managed to make him smile a few times.  You realized that as Thorin had begun to trust you, you trusted him not only as a leader but as a friend, and your affection grew beyond what you’d originally thought.

   Still, you wondered if perhaps it was all in your head.  Thorin had seen you as young and naive early on, but that was only because of your inexperience in the world of Middle-Earth.  Things had changed.  Perhaps they had changed more than you thought?

   Thorin’s breath disappeared from your ear as he pulled away to circle aroundyou, the armor clanking with every step. You were frozen to the spot, but your lips managed to form words.

   “What about Balin? You told him that you felt nothing for me and that you were focused on the quest.”

   An eerie chuckle echoed from behind. “I told Balin what he wanted to hear. I told him that so he would not question me any further on the matter, but the truth remains…” His voice sounded right behind you. “I care about you.”

   He was saying what you wanted to hear all along, and yet it felt so wrong now. This wasn’t the real Thorin, right? You could not possibly accept this declaration of feelings knowing that he would snap out of it soon enough.

   “W-we should go join the others…”

   His arm snaked around your waist, earning a gasp from you. “I love you, ________, and I want you to say you feel the same.”

   “Thorin, I can’t. You’re not yourself. The stress of the Arkenstone and the battle must be affecting you.”

   “My own kin has betrayed me. One of them has taken the Arkenstone. Please, do not  turn away from me as well. Say you love me. Be my queen.”

   You were left breathless by his words. He had released you from his hold and circled back around to stand in front of you. Thorin leaned in, eyes flickering to your lips briefly. It was beyond tempting. All you had to do was lean in a few mere inches, and you would feel his lips on yours. It was what he wanted, and it was what you wanted…

   “I have to go,” you stated, putting some distance between the two of you. Thorin’s lips pulled down in a frown as you stepped around him.

   “You’re making a mistake,” he called over his shoulder.  “An offer such as this will not come again.”

   You hesitated at the doorway, shaking your head. “Then so be it.” And then you left. You didn’t dare look back as you hurried down the halls to get as far away from him as possible. He was crazy. Insane.

   And so are you for turning him down, a small voice screamed from within your mind. You could have been his, even for a short time. You could have had his love, even if it was twisted.  His kiss. His embrace… It could all have been yours if you had just said so.

   But it was wrong, and you knew it, to take advantage of his situation.

   “Bilbo!” You halted when you rounded a corner and almost collided with him. “Where are you off to?”

   He glanced around to make sure no one was near, holding a long rope coiled up in his hand. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing. I am taking the Arkenstone to Bard to use for bargaining. It’s the only way the people of Lake-Town will get their fair share.  Hopefully, we will avoid war.”

   “That’s a great idea. I’ll cover for you while you’re gone.”

   “Thank you, ________,” he whispered gratefully. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

   You pulled him into a quick hug. “Be careful. I’ll see you later!” You parted ways with the hobbit once more, him heading for the front gate while you lingered in the corridor. You felt so alone, standing there. None of the dwarves could understand the situation.

   It wasn’t the time to tell Bilbo what had occurred with Thorin.   It would be yet another dark secret to weigh on you for now, along with the possible fate of the journey.

   That night, the dwarves talked and laughed by the fire as usual. Even though they had all of Erebor to go off and choose a room from, the Company still liked to gather together to share a meal and camp out just like old times. Fortunately, Thorin never participated, spending his days and nights in the throne room. You joined the group, glad to have something take your mind off of the recent events. Bofur led the group in a few songs, Fili and Kili told jokes, Nori and Dori bickered and teased each other, Ori laughed along with Bombur, Bifur, Oin, and Gloin.

   Balin and Dwalin were in a more solemn mood, but couldn’t help cracking a smile every now and then. At some point, the dwarves started sharing stories of hilarious hardship over the course of the quest.

   “But don’t you remember the time in the beginning of the journey when we had to cross that river?” Bofur asked with a grin, earning a few bursts of laughter. “Quite a few of us took a plunge that day!”

   “I lost a lot of supplies,” Bombur said with a nod.

   “And what supplies you did have left was soaked!” Bofur laughed, slapping his knee.

   “I do recall the stew being soggier than usual that night,” Gloin joked.

   “Or what about the afternoon when _________ quite literally got sick of traveling?” A teasing grin spread across Kili’s face. “She jumped off of her pony to go throw up in the bushes.”

   “Hey! I felt terrible that day!” you protested playfully. “Besides, it’s not like I had ever ridden a pony all day every day for weeks before.”

   “The best part was that Thorin scolded her anyway for holding the Company up,” Fili chuckled.

   “Well, I’m pretty sure I remember a time when you and your brother were supposed to be watching the ponies and nearly got us all eaten by trolls when we had to go find them.”

   “Ooh, that’s cold,” Kili feigned offense, unable to hide the amused grin. 

   “You don’t miss a thing, lass,” Bofur teased.

   “Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, still smiling. No one asked about Bilbo, or wondered aloud where he was. The hobbit had been spending more time alone as of late, so it wasn’t unusual for him to not join them for dinner. He would return before dawn, you knew, but as each hour passed that evening, you became a little more anxious.

   You managed to set aside your worries and let sleep overtake you. You fell into a deep sleep, and a certain dwarf king haunted your dreams that night.

If I Were Not Myself

Description: Reader is a mandalorian from Din’s covert who was manipulated into taking off her helmet. HEAVILY based on Pierre and Natasha from Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. Takes place before the child (bc age reasons and character development has not happened). Trying to stay as close to the approximate ages in Great Comet/War and Peace, putting Din at 27 while reader is 19. 

 Notes: Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 makes me absolutely mad. The only spoken lines in the musical and it makes my heart shatter. Okay, I don’t think Din would be as courteous towards a dar’manda as I write him but also like, this is a Din/Pierre hybrid, so. And yes I know that based on these ages Toro Calican would have barely been born, but um, yeah <3. IT’S MY FIC AND I CAN DO WHAT I WANT.  Also, this is my first time writing and posting fan fiction so um, yeah <3

Word Count: 2.9K

Rating: G

Tags/warnings: Thoughts of death (in an almost philosophical way). fem!reader Dar’manda!reader, war and peace au? No use of y/n, slightest hint of Toro Callican x reader and Paz x Reader (like they’re mentioned), age gap

If I were not myself,

But the brightest,

Handsomest,

Best man on earth,

And if I were free,

I would get down on my knees,

This minute,

And ask you for your hand.

And for your love.

The mandalorians-the mandalorian and the dar’manda, stood in front of each other. The air still. When he had initially seen her he ran towards her, he stopped less than a foot away and reached a hand out to her, but instead of taking his outstretched hand like he had expected, she slowly moved past him. She put an awkward amount of distance between the two. The gap between them too large for how friendly they normally were, while anything closer seemed too overwhelming. Din knew he had to stay far enough away to keep himself from completely engulfing the girl in an embrace, fists curling at his sides to stop himself from reaching out to her again. 

---- 

Din had known the young woman her entire life, for she was born shortly after he had been taken in as a foundling. While all families in the covert were friendly with one another, theirs had been especially close. And they had been especially fond of each other. The age difference caused them to participate in different activities and talk with different social groups but did not stop them from interacting completely. In fact, the two mandalorians had grown to be close friends. The young girl confided in Din about her newest crush on the covert while he doted on her for it and she would laugh at the gruff noises he made while being teased by peers, watching him try to act tough while knowing he would huff and puff to her about it later. 

He had watched her grow, from a nervous young girl who stood in the middle of a room filled with people simply to make them listen to her sing, to a young woman who knew how to carry herself and gain the attention of her peers from sheer presence. At the same time, the girl watched Din grow from a flustered teenage boy to a closed off young man who became more and more stoic with each passing visit. 

As the years went on the two became distant, caught up in the paths life had put them on. Din started running with Ran’s crew, his visits to the covert became few and far between, while she had stayed and chose to act as a nurse for the foundlings. Their friendship seemingly evaporated, dissolved to nothing but pleasantries. The young woman noticed the growing weight on her dear friend’s shoulders, but was unknowing of the whirlwind he found himself caught in. His growing reputation, worrisome discoveries he made about himself, and the insatiable twi’lek girl he had gotten tangled with. 

During his last visit home, Din had introduced the young woman to his friend Paz Vizsla. The two had known of each other for quite some time but had never formally been introduced, and quickly after he acquainted them Din felt a shift in the air, as if he was intruding on something he was not meant to see. He had not expected the pair to become so infatuated with one another. Aware of Paz’s past, the hardships he faced, losing not only a wife but a child at a young age, and the battles he fought; and the young woman’s naivete, having rarely left the covert herself and her general lack of life experience. So when he heard that they planned to wed, he had been surprised to say the least. 

That had only been one year ago. A year, and yet so much had changed. Din truly had not planned on a return home for quite some time. While he had been on the planet for a while, as the crew had a job that stationed them there, he had not planned on visiting the covert. As he had no obligations to do so, prior to the holo he had received from the girl's aunt in which she explained the situation to him and pleaded for him to return. She explained how the girl had broken off her engagement to Paz and made plans to run away with Toro Calican, whom she had only known for a few days, instead. Din had heard of Calican before and had even had the ‘pleasure’ of meeting him once, he found the suave young man obnoxious and to be nothing but trouble. Oh but what angered him the most about the young man, was seeing his own worst qualities reflected right back at him. His fears and flaws were flaunted by the young mercenary. When Din heard it was Calican the girl had become involved with, he didn’t even have time to think before it had slipped past his lips that the young man himself was married, and unlike Paz his wife was still alive. The girl’s aunt had begged him to return to scare Calican off the planet and to attempt to speak some sense into the girl. But when Din had returned it had been too late, she had revealed her face to an already married man, and unknowingly to her, his friends as well. Leaving her dar’manda. 

--- 

It felt almost inappropriate to stand in front of her in this state. With her lack of armor and helmet, she might as well have been naked from a cultural standpoint. She stood in the middle of the room in her thermals. Her beskar had been stripped from her, no doubt to be given to someone more deserving, a foundling most likely. Her back towards him, Din noticed her arms hung still next to her, obviously too exhausted to even subconsciously twiddle the edges of her shirt like she used to do when she was a younger, more nervous girl. When she turned around and looked at him, it felt like she could see into his soul. The helmet prevented her from looking him in the eyes, but having worn a helmet herself and interacting with so many others who did the same, she easily knew where his were hidden behind the mask. And when he looked into her eyes, Din could see the weight of the galaxy crashing down on her. 

“Din Djarin.” She tested out his name. And something in him shattered. No one had referred to him by name in so long, simply referring to him as ‘mando’, but Din Djarin was not the name she had used the last time he saw her. No, she had simply called him Din. The sudden change in formality made tense, as he took a second to respond. “Din” He took a breath and corrected her. It wasn’t until the girl’s face shot down did he realize he had started leaning forward, his weight shifted to the balls of his feet, left hand flexing at his side. 

He hadn’t seen her face in six years. No one had. Like most in the covert the young girl had sworn the creed promptly at the age of 13. After swearing the creed she had grown into herself, the young nervous girl Din had become friends with was replaced by a confident young woman. A skilled fighter and diplomat, yet as charming and giddy as ever. He could only imagine how she had grown ever more captivating as time went on. Din had never thought it to be a shame if a beautiful face was hidden behind a wall of beskar, his religion more important than simple vanity, and yet. As he saw her face on full display, he understood. Understood how someone who had become so enamored by the girl could do such a selfish thing, ask her to take off her helmet. 

“Vizsla was, Vizsla is your friend.” She corrected herself. Her ex-fiancé had fought in a far off battle for so long she had developed the bad habit of assuming him dead. Once again, the girl’s sudden formality was not lost on Din, referring to her ex fiancé as Vizsla rather than her usual endearing Paz. “He once told me that I should turn to you.” 

He had always reproached dar’mandas, finding them to be less than. Thought they had already shown themselves to be unworthy of the mandalorian title and armor if they could so easily take it off. That it took a truly weak man to break from The Way, from a people that loved fiercely and unconditionally. He wanted so badly to despise her. To give her the same scowl and acid laced words he might anyone else. But there was something about the way the young woman held her head. As if, even though she no longer had her helmet, she still did not want her face to be shown, and at that any chance of reproach towards her had died. Instead it was replaced by a feeling of pity. He had wanted to believe he felt nothing but pity for her, but he knew that wasn’t right. There was something else, something he was unable to place. 

“He’s returned. When you see him… Can you please tell him to, please tell him to forgive me.” She moved as if she meant to wring her hands, but when her fingertips found skin instead of leather gloves, they quickly shot back down to her sides. 

“Yeah, I’ll-I’ll tell him.” Din’s throat tightens as he recalls his conversation with Paz. How his friend returned from battle only to hear of his fiancé having an affair, removing her helmet in front of people who were not her riduur or ade. Recalling Paz’s posture, his voice almost malicious yet so pained when he said he could not forgive the girl of her actions. How the image of Paz, a man Din looked up to, had been shattered with a few simple words. “But-” 

“I know everything’s over, that chance of anything is gone.” Her head shot up, as if she had read his mind, anticipated his words. “But still, I’m haunted by what I’ve done, what I’ve done to him. Tell him please, to forgive me. For everything.” 

“I’ll tell him to forgive you. I’ll tell him everything.” Din nodded, as he thought of his next words carefully. “I want to know one thing. Did you really love him? Did you love that bad man” His voice sounded hoarser than usual. 

“Don’t call him bad.” She spat out. “But I, I don’t know. I really don’t.” Though the speed of her response told Din her real answer. That in some said way, yes, she really had loved Toro Calican. The man who had pushed her farther than anyone else had, pushed the boundary most important to anyone who shared their creed. Pushed her to do something she had never previously thought about. So uncaring of consequences. And if she had not loved him, she at least still held strong feelings for him. For the man who had manipulated her.

The young woman turned away from Din and began to cry. And he could hear the dam of emotions she held back break in the sob she let out. He could do nothing but watch as she began to crumple in on herself. The same feeling of pity from earlier returned, but it was now accompanied by a tenderness he had become unfamiliar with and that same something he was still unable to place. Din felt the tears pool at his jaw before he was even able to comprehend that he had started to cry. Thankful for his helmet as it prevented anyone from seeing the tears that rolled down his cheek. 

“Hey, we don’t. We don’t have to talk about it anymore, ner vod.” The familiarity slipped out of his mouth, meant to comfort them both. He slowly made his way towards her, reached his hand out the same as he had done earlier. “But. I’m still, your friend. And if you ever need someone to talk to, or someone to open your heart to. Not now, but, when your mind is clear. Think of me.” 

Din grew confused.

He had no idea where any of this was coming from. Especially after her had become so closed off over the past few years. He had felt more in the past few minutes here with her, warm and tender feelings that he had not realized he so dearly missed, than he possibly had in years. And there it was, that feeling he had been unable to place, unable to give a name, coming to the surface. Love. He had always carried affection towards her, in one way or another, but this was different. Love, something he had started to wonder if he was incapable of. 

“Don’t talk to me like that.” She snapped. “I don’t, I don’t deserve it.” Came out softer, sadder, and she practically scurried away from the man. Like she truly believed it. 

“Stop! Stop. You have the rest of your life-” The first stop a command, the second a plea. The girl stopped, her back still faced him. 

“The rest of my life? My life is over.” The girl reached the doorway she had entered through earlier, a tight grip on the wall. 

“Over.” He repeated. Looking at the girl, he saw a reflection of himself. His fears and flaws hung heavy around the girl. The same horrible thoughts that had plagued his mind not so long ago. 

The knowledge that one was capable of hurting people doing bad things, the thought that death might be more accepting and caring fate. The fear that life had ended before it even began. But unlike when he had seen those same traits in Toro Calican, who wore them with pride, he saw the same level of fear in the young woman that he had felt. 

And suddenly, everything stopped. 

“If I were not myself.” 

The young woman froze at his words. Din had not even registered that he was speaking until he had finished. 

“But the brightest, handsomest

Best man in the galaxy” 

Din had done bad things. Din had done bad things and enjoyed doing them. He had dangerous thoughts, dangerous intentions, and a dangerous way of life. He knew he was still not the man he needed to be. So much to improve upon before even thinking of settling down with someone, let alone the young woman in front of him. Though she was not perfect either, not the woman he knew she was capable of becoming, but he still thought she was deserving of perfection. 

“And If I were free-” His throat threatened to close. 

The Xi’an of it all was, Din was not in the position to be offering his love to someone else. And while they were not the ideal couple, he was still tied to her. He had his suspicions that the twi’lek girl might have been seeing other men along with him, but it did not stop him from remaining faithful to the girl. Along with the weight of his relationship on his heart, was the beskar lock he kept tight on it. His creed, the most important thing in his life. What he held himself to above all else. She was dar’manda, while he was not. A fact he could not simply ignore. Any hopes of a relationship between the two had been destroyed when she revealed herself. But he could not stop himself from loving her, from wishing he could do this one thing for her. 

“I would get down on my knees this minute 

And ask you for your hand” His voice strained. It could truly be that simple, they could be married in the matter of seconds. Vows exchanged, tied to each other for the rest of their lives. It was something he had never dreamed of, but as he stood in front of the young woman now. There was nothing he wanted more. 

“And for your love” 

The young woman turned around.

And reality comes crashing down. 

She makes her way over to him faster than Din thought safe for someone in her state. Her breaths jagged as she tries to control her tears. Tenderness replacing the earlier weight in her eyes. 

His breath hitches when her hand touches the cheek of his helmet. But he lets her, trusting her single hand to not make any bold moves, knowing the girl would not dare to lift the helmet off his head, to damn him to the same fate she had damned herself. Din’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes closing behind his helmet as he leans into her hand. A tear rolls down his cheek. The young woman simply looks at the man in front of her. And she gives him the softest smile he has ever seen. 

“Oh Din,” she whispers. ‘Thank you’, she means to continue, but the words are caught in her throat, leaving her to simply mouth them instead. She lets her hand fall from his face and leaves the room, smiling. 

Din stands and watches her leave, trying to hold back any oncoming tears, and lets out a shaky breath. Realizing his job here is done, he turns around to leave. Bumping into the doorway on his way out, he takes a deep steady breath, and makes his way to the Razor Crest.

yandere!hongjoong | desire

This is: requested

warning: v v smutty bcs happy valentines to yall. stay safe and don’t forget to wear your masks when doing the deed!! 

Day 100 of you being locked up here inside Hongjoong’s bedroom. Today marks the day he would completely give you a little freedom, and you should be a little happy at least. 

The past three months have been hard on you. You were on your way to school until all of a sudden strong pair of arms wrapped around your frame from behind and knocked you out. The next thing you knew, you were in a room with a man sitting on the foot of the bed. It was none other than your best friend, Kim Hongjoong. 

You remember that day, asking him why he had done this to you. He replied by saying that being your friend gave him a little hope that he could survive high school. That despite the hardships he has been going through in his life,you gave him a reason to get up and try again. But what was once an inspiration turned into an infatuation then turned to obsession. 

He noticed how you were getting close to Park Seonghwa, campus crush and basketball captain of the team. You also formed a new found friendship with Jung Yunho, the head of the dance club and member of the animal rights association. It was then that Hongjoong started to feel insecure until slowly he was driven out of his sanity. 

And now you found yourself here. At first, you argued with Hongjoong and threatened him to rat him over to the police. You were then met with a heavy hand on your cheek, your head spun around and your cheek stinging. That was the first time he laid a hand on you. And you would never forget that. Day by day, Hongjoong would apologize to you. But you gave him the silent treatment. When he didn’t like how you were treating him, he proceeded to threaten you by killing your parents, but it wouldn’t be him who would be doing the dirty work, rather, it is you who would be doing it. Sick with the idea, you immediately talked to him and stopped him from such idea. And then, Hongjoong offered you a proposal. 

If in a hundred days you would obey him and not go against his rules, he would give you a bit of the freedom that you wished for. But if you decided to go against him, then the hundred days would double, continuing to increase until the days would prolong. That was when you knew Hongjoong is smart. Even though you are tied in his bedroom, he was already training you to be his. At first, you were doing fine. You thought you could put a front and pretend you weren’t falling for him and his game. But halfway to a hundred days, you found yourself slowly slipping off your grip until you come to conclusion that you lost yourself to him. Less than a hundred days, you have accepted the fact that you have completely submitted yourself to Hongjoong. 

His finger would dance around the skin of your legs, slowly soothing them up and down your thighs. How he would cook your favorite dishes and feed you, although they didn’t taste the same just like how your mother made them, you wouldn’t deny how Hongjoong’s cooking has a unique flavor that made you like it as well. He would write songs for you, sing them to you while you sleep. He’s made a few songs for you already that you stopped counting. How his arms would envelope around you, as if protecting you from the loud thunder outside. He was aware that you are afraid of thunder and he was doing his best to calm you down at night. Surprisingly, you calmed down and fell asleep in his arms. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when Hongjoong comes through the door, a bright smile painted on his lips. 

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” He praises, cupping your face and peppering your face and lips with kisses. “I’ll run you a shower first.” He says, slowly he loosened the ropes around your wrists and ankles, carrying you in his arms. He slowly sat you down first on the counter edge of the bathub to remove your clothing. You bit your inner lip and turned your head down, this is the first time that Hongjoong would see you naked. Slowly ass he places you down the tub filled with scented oils and rose petals. 

Before he could leave you to take your bath, you grabbed a hold of his wrist. “Please don’t leave me.” You whispered. And in a matter of seconds, Hongjoong stripped himself off his clothing, you scooted a bit away to give him space before pressing your back on his chest, situated between his legs. 

You and Hongjoong didn’t bothered to destroy the silence while his hands caressed the skin of your wrists and all you could hear was his breathing. It wasn’t a deafening silence, it was a rather a silence for longing. 

“Okay you can open your eyes now” 

Slowly you opened your eyes. Before you a beautiful botanical garden inside a glass room. You marveled at the different beautiful flowers and how healthy they grew. 

“While you were locked up in my bedroom, I took the time to make this for you. People are too cruel and judgemental and will only bring you down. But the flowers here will always for you no matter what.” He whispers in your ear. Much to his suprise, you wrapped your arms around his nape. 

“Thank you so much! This is the best you’ve given me!” You smile as you slightly lean away from the hug, you plucked up your courage and placed a kiss on his lips. 

“My darling is getting bold already.” Hongjoong chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. “But I have one more to show you.” He took a hold of your hand and lead you further to the glass garden, you didn’t think there would be more to it but what greeted you next was what you love the most. 

A flower field. 

“When I grow up, I’d want a flower field by my garden! I just love plants so much and I would want..hmm, a hundred different flowers in the field!” 

I do remember telling him about that flower field when we were in 7th grade. But I didn’t know that he would actually be serious about making this one for me. 

“When did you make this?” I asked, slowly turning my head to face him. 

“When do you think? These flowers are very hard to grow and maintain. The day you told me that you wanted a flower field, I immediately had to start working on it.” Hongjoong wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “I had a hard time looking for the exact flowers that you wanted to see.” 

“I want lillies, roses, marigolds, dandelions and tulips! There’s a lot more flowers that I like....but I’ll reserve them some time and write them down on a paper so I wouldn’t forget!” 

That afternoon, Hongjoong and I laid down on top of the flower field, using his arm as my pillow. The purple sky sipping through the glass room while the cold air kisses through our skin, making the wind chimes sway and produce little sounds. We were staring deeply into each other’s eyes until slowly Hongjoong leans in and places his lips on top of mine. 

I tried to wriggle my way out of his embrace, but he had his arms wrapped around me tightly, like his life depended on me. I tried to regain my breath as I breathed slowly and deeply felt my lips tingling and all the energy flowing in me. 

The distance separating our lips seemed so little, as if it was one meter and he was right there. With eyes open, looking at him like I’m seeing someone I love, I felt my body softening and my heart racing. 

It was the both of us; our mouths pressed together one more time, our tongues dancing and our breaths mingling and our hearts beating in time. He held me tight against his chest, my heart pounding inside my chest. 

“I can’t wait to have you here.” And slowly, Hongjoong switched our positions as he hovers on top of me, situating himself between my legs before he places his lips on mine once more, this time, kissing in a hungry and torrid manner. 

With one hand, he wraps them around my neck and his other hand grabs my waist, pulling me up as I willingly let my hands roam all over him, through his clothes. 

“Hongjoong, please, I want you.” I whisper, beg.

“I want you too” He says through gritted teeth, feeling his hands roam up my body, slowly sliding the straps of my dress of my shoulder and down to my ankles. 

He attaches his lips on my exposed neck, kissing the skin of my neck while I feel his hands slowly slide up my back, unbuckling my white lace bra. His fingers slowly push them down my shoulder, inching it down until I gasp a little. The cool air kissing my exposed skin. 

I gasp again as his hands settle on my breasts, fondling and caressing them in his hands. Sticking his tongue out and sliding them down to my shoulder, down to the valley between my breasts and then attaching his mouth on my left nipple. Swirling his tongue crazy like a maniac. My fingers fumbled and gripped on the back of his head, the in between of my legs pooling with wetness already. He lifts his head up and sticks his tongue out, kitty licking my right nipple before nibbling on it gently between his teeth. 

“Oh my god, that’s so good” I mumbled, letting out a moan, I tilted my head and saw a purple mark above my nipple. 

“Mine” he growls before turning his head down to place butterfly kisses on my stomach. 

“I’m going to have my way with you before I take you” He says, feeling his hardened length brush against my leg, caressing my legs before ripping my underwear off. 

He drapes my legs on top of his shoulders, sticking his tongue out and takes a long lick on my clit. He spreads my folds apart before ravishing them, almost burying his face on my pussy. 

I arched my back and let out soft yet loud moans. My hands pushing the back of his head more onto my pussy, feeling his tongue swirl around inside me. His hands that were once resting on my thighs slowly slide up and found themselves once more on my breasts, fondling and gripping them harshly. 

“Hongjoong...” I whispered, only to moan once more as sucked my fold gently, moving his tongue accordingly inside me as I felt vibrations my core, spasming after. 

“Hongjoong...are you okay?” I asked in a soft tone. Softly he lifts his head up, his lips glistening bright red with my juices. 

“More than okay, sweetheart. You sounded so heavenly moaning my name. I wouldn’t mind if I died suffocated in your pussy. If it’s the last thing I saw, I’d die happily and blissfully.” He says before unbuckling his belt, removing his pants along with his underwear and then hovering on top of me once more. 

He pushes himself inside me causing me to throw my head back on the flowery field. 

“Hongjoong” you gasped out, gripping your hands on his shoulders. 

“God, you don’t know how much I fucking love it when you moan my name like that.” He growls, slipping himself out before slamming again once more into me. 

“Mine” he spoke in a deep tone as he thrusts harshly inside of me. 

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. And you’re all mine.” He breathes out, never stopping pounding inside of me. He leans down and pushes his tongue inside my mouth. Our tongues roaming around each others mouths, tasting every cavern and crevice. 

With the feeling of his tip poking your g-spot, it was enough to already send you on edge. The familiar feeling of tightness building up your stomach as you are reaching your high. 

“I’m so close. Please don’t stop.” The words came out like a moan, begging. 

“Let’s cum together, sweetheart.” 

Hitting your high while moaning his name out loud, you look up as you finally release and let yourself loose, coating his cock with your warm seeds. Hongjoong, shooting his cum inside of you. The once purple sky finally darkened for the bright stars and moon. 

He places a hand on top of your stomach, caressing it gently. 

“It won’t be long until our own child comes. When that day comes, I’ll love you both to death.” 

And you love the idea. 

Post rule of wolves, about Zoya and Nikolai being soft with each other in one of the many moment of hardship they face. Zoya gets a letter that unsettles her and leans on Nikolai to face more of her demons and move on. I love how Zoya is slowly learning to open up and face her wounds, and how Nikolai is there to catch her. Feedback are always appreciated, so much love to you all 

the blood in our veins - ao3

When the sound of leaves crunching under someone’s steps reached her, Zoya did not startle. She knew Nikolai would appear at some point, as he always did, as if he could sense her despair. Or as if someone played the snitch on my escape, more likely. He was the only one to have the key, beside her, and the only one to know she would take refuge here. For a moment, she lingered on what a strange sight she was making; a steel spined harpy perched amongst the wildflowers, her kefta smeared by dirt and pollen, her eyes trained on the ground and a sprout in her hands. She felt his intense gaze on her, his worry. The scent of his skin; Nikolai always tasted like salt and sunburnt skin, like the sea. 

“Who ratted me out?”, she asked. He lowered himself toward her, brushing a kiss on her head before kneeling beside her on the ground. 

“Tamar”, he answered, “told me you got a letter and dismissed the meeting.” More like run away from it. She would have to thank Tamar for her regard. 

Zoya clicked her tongue. A letter. Her hand went in her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Nikolai. She sensed his concern turn into outrage. Zoya knew it was a matter of time before Sabina reached out to her. After all, her daughter had just become the queen of Ravka. There was no hope left in her heart that her estranged mother would not try to exploit this particular advantage. As long as she was not dead, she supposed. Which, as far as she knew of, could very well be. As it turned out Sabina was not the one Zoya should have been wondering about.

“It’s a long list of arrogant pleading. Get to the end”, she instructed Nikolai. Zoya glanced at him and saw him shook his head with a sigh when he came to the last lines. 

“Zoya – “, he tried, his tone insecure, weary of what was the right thing to say. Was there a right thing to say when you lost a father you had already wiped from your mind? The word lost probably was not even fit for the situation. 

“He’s been dead a couple of years, apparently. She did not even bother to say how.”

There was no grief left inside her to tug at. No sentiment to pull and mourn over. Nothing left for them, for him. There was just a void lurking next to the well inside her, in which so many stones had tumbled. It was not endless anymore; it stopped right beside her, where Nikolai’s light flooded in through the cracks in her walls. Zoya tried to look for something to hold on to, something to guide her over this empty sea of nothingness. No love, no regret, no pain. The sorrow in the well had always been for Lilyiana, for Lada. For David, for the Grisha, maybe even for herself. A monument to her solitude. None of it was dedicated to the two young people who had given her breath. Yet she felt the void, like it had form and claws that pierced at her heart. Its fingers tied around her throat, squeezed the air out of her lungs. 

“I thought maybe I should plant something for him, too. I – I don’t know.” 

She murmured. Her voice came out more frail than she had desired to, more vulnerable. Nikolai moved closer, his shoulder brushing on hers. She grasped at that touch that anchored her on this moment, that prevented her from losing herself. 

“I don’t know what the Suli ritual is.” The defeat in her tone sparked a flicker of injustice. It was supposed to have been over; the child that did not look back on a wretched church was supposed to have grown. Such restless waters she had had to navigate. How does one separate hatred from fear, love from abandonment, rage from regret? 

“We could find out.”

“There’s no time. There’s no time anymore.” To know him. To understand. To take the child in her hand and protect her in an embrace. Faintly, in the distance, Zoya felt Nikolai’s hand on her back, his lips landing again on her cheek. 

“Why did you choose this?”, he asked, bobbing his chin at the sprout she was holding, at his light blue blossoms.

“I’m not sure”, she sighed. “When I was very little, there was always a glass of forget-me-nots on the kitchen table. My father used to bring them from the fields at sundown. He stopped before my sixth birthday.”

Zoya never knew what they meant. Her mother told her they were the colour of their eyes, weaving them in her hair. She had felt like a princess in a fairytale, with a crown of blossoms.

“Inej told me the Suli have a saying about love. Her father says that you would know a boy truly loves you when he brings you your favourite flowers. I figured that is why our house was full of them, at first. Maybe these are for both of them. Maybe I should bury my mother too.”

What a sombre, depressing thought, she half expected Nikolai to say. Instead, he just reached for her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, watching her in silence. So she forced another sentence out, one that stung to admit. “I thought I did that already the moment I set foot in the Little Palace. I thought they could float away like a river in the sea, instead I just built a dam that feels dangerously close to shatter.”

The quiet stretched on. “I don’t know what they are”, Nikolai admitted. “Your favourite flowers. I don’t know them.”

She moved her gaze to him and wondered what he was seeing. If he had already grown tired of her, of her dark moods and brooding tendencies. Those fears clutched her heart on her worst nights. Was he catching the sheer sentiment in her eyes, the fire that burned for him inside her? How she grasped at his voice like it was the thread that tied her to safety, to belonging? Whatever her failings were, Nikolai’s look never wavered. His certainty, affection. He was the one keeping the dam from falling, keeping her from breaking. 

“You told me once I could be branches without blossoms and wait for the summer to come. The way you love…it’s not the fleeting beauty of petals. It’s the strength of roots.”

She spoke before having the chance to think about her words, not sure what she had wanted to convey, pressed by an unfamiliar urge to let him know. Saints, Nikolai was rubbing off on her. His eyes sparkled and he looked taken aback, a fond and surprised smile tugging at his lips. Zoya let his warmth creep into her, before moving back to look at the flowers still resting in her hands. 

“I don’t have a favourite one. I like them all.” 

Nikolai nodded, his fingers lingering in her hair, brushing through them. “Good to know. See? You are not such a difficult person after all.” Zoya heard him move beside her, sensed his fingers draw away. He gently pulled the plant in front of her. “Let me do it for you”, his voice soft, caring. Let me carry this weight for you. Her hands dug into her kefta, clinging into it as if it could make her remember who she was.

Nikolai pulled his gloves away.  She snatched them from him, huffing impatiently. It really was an unnerving habit of his. “Would you stop with these? You do not need them around me. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“Don’t take it out on my gloves”, he grinned at her. Yet, she caught the shadow sweeping through his eyes; the darkness Zoya had never wanted him to hide. He worked in silence, moving the terrain away, placing the sprouts and watering them. Zoya stood still, one hand clung to her kefta, the other tightened around his gloves, watching him as he took care of her garden for her. 

“My mother was loud”, she said abruptly. Water leaking from the cracks. Nikolai’s gaze swept toward her as he kept going. There was no other person she could tell this to. Stories needed to be told, She had learned. “Sabina kicked and screamed her way into our misery. She shouted her wrath; she broke the ceramics on the floors, spewing spite. She weaved sweet lies that stuck like sap into my ears, before wiping my tears as I stood in a ridiculous ruffled dress.” Zoya sighed, seeing her memories flash in her mind. She did not want to feel this. She did not want to know. But Juris’ wisdom was unforgiving. “Her frustration, her selfishness. Everything was like thunder. Maybe that’s where I take it from.” A dry laugh escaped her lips, as she forced herself to say what she knew had been the truth this whole time. “My mother was loud. Yet, it was my father’s silence that broke me. That was what carved the hole inside of me. The way he let everything happen, his head slumped on his shoulders, his mouth shut. The emptiness of his affection. It gave me the guilt of not being enough, of not being worthy.”

Zoya kept going, averting Nikolai’s eyes. “Yelling is easy to counter. It enrages you, fires you up, picks at your pride. Silence is different; it cuts you slowly, drains your blood drop by drop, renders you powerless. How do you fight a wall made of nothing?”

His gentle touch moved to her jaw, tracing the lines of her face, grounding her to earth. 

“I feel it. I can see it.” Every word she got out seemed to force a split into the void. Warmth flood in, rage went out, passing through her like a blade. The dragon's eyes had opened, whether she had wanted it or not. She felt like drowning. “How unprepared they were. How powerless. The hatred that grew around their souls like thorn wood. It’s the same they have set upon me. I do not want that. I do not want this to be their legacy for me.”

Legacy. What was hers, in this life, and what was theirs? Zoya had Sabina’s eyes, Suhm’s wavy black hair. It gave her comfort to think her pride and her strength came from Lilyiana. Her wind and lightning was born from the making at the heart of the world. What, then? What had they been like, when they were just a boy and a girl in love, dancing under the moonlight? She had shrugged her name as if she could be born anew. Tossed the memories of them as if she could build a new life. That she supposed she had done, at least. Even with this new name, this new life, something of them still remained. The poisoned blood in her veins if nothing else. She could not cut them open and change it, and she had spent her life feeling it flow like a curse through her. 

“I cannot go on hating them.” The words were spoken as a shameful confession, as a defeat. As a realization too, however. Nikolai laced their fingers together, making her relent the hold on the kefta.

“Perhaps we should not hate them”, he said, careful and gentle. “Maybe the secret is that we need not pass judgment over them. Maybe the secret is to forgive them.” 

Zoya shook her head at Nikolai’s relentless goodwill and optimism. He had forgiven his mother that day in Os Kervo. He had forgiven the one who was not his father, he had delivered his punishment and moved on. And Zoya? She did not have any forgiveness left in her. The hatred, though. Whatever remained of it, she guessed she could try and leave it here, with the blue blossoms thriving from the earth like forgotten hope. 

Their legacy might have been just thorns, storms, and thunders. It might have been just the spite that had threatened to rot her insides. Still, it was an inheritance she could find the strength to relent. She could keep their eyes, their blood, Sabina combing her hair and Suhm telling her a goodnight story in his arms, even if she did not miss it, even if she did not remember what that felt like. Zoya was not Nikolai, she was not golden nor kind. She could not justify their weakness; she could not pardon both the screams and the silence. Maybe you could let go, though. She wasn’t sure if it was Juris’ voice or her own to cut through the mist of thoughts. Zoya bleeding in the snow. Zoya crying on her own. Let go.

The dam had broken, but the dragon queen did not drown. Hours could have passed, or minutes. Nikolai had put his jacket on her shoulders, the fabric thick and warm. He had not spoken anymore, just sat with her in the quiet as the sun disappeared. At some point, when the chill had started creeping in her bones, he had tugged her up and walked her to her chambers, dismissing the Heartrender twins who stood guard on her door with a wave of his hand. Zoya had let him handle her, leaning in his touch. Only when the lock clicked, she had let herself release her breath, slumping in her favourite velvet sofa. The crackle of the fire was comforting. Nikolai had called for tea, murmured something in her ear she did not remember. He had sat on her desk next to her, working through some documents while she got back to herself. The familiar rhythm of their quiet caught on, enveloping the room, soothing as a cold cloth on an open wound.

Time did not matter anymore. Zoya had the cup in her hands, the fire in front of her, and Nikolai’s jacket still curled around her. His scent was tight on the fabric. It lulled her into a silent calm, along with the rhythmic pounding of her heart, the sound of Nikolai’s pen scraping the paper, of his hands scribbling, the muffled huff of his breath. Peace washed over her in a tide. 

“What is it like?” 

Zoya suddenly spoke, after what felt like an eternity. The tea had turned cold. She kept her look trained on the fire. Nikolai stilled, relenting whatever piece of work he was doing, arching a brow at her. The question was vague, at the very best. “Not being an only child”, she added. Now his attention peaked on her. 

He shuffled back the papers on her desk, got up and came to her. Moving her feet away, he eased himself on her sofa, letting Zoya stretch her legs over him, resting his hands on her calves and leaning his head on a cushion. His careful look never left her face, turned thoughtful as her question travelled his mind. 

“I adored my brother”, Nikolai started, slowly, “Worshipped him. Loved him with every fibre of my being. Until I did not anymore. We were not bound, or tight, and well – we all know how that turned out. It was an embarrassment and a weight, more than an anchor like I desired him to be. And I did desire that a lot.”

Zoya looked at him. She left the cup on the nightstand; as soon as her hands were free, Nikolai snatched one of them in his. “And Linnea?”, she asked. An affectionate smile curled his lips. 

“Linnea is…different. I feel the kinship – and not just because we both have a soft heart for ships. I know she is me, for some part, and I am her. She’s more grounded than me, more quiet, more practical.” He brushed a thumb over her palm, tightening the hold. “I guess that’s why she likes you. I am quite scared at how much you two get along, frankly. And she has this creative, restless energy, she is charming in her own silent way, brilliant. Sometimes it’s like I’m looking inside some sort of distorted mirror. In some life I may have had if I took a different path.” 

Yet, the choices they had been forced to make forged a solitary childhood for them. A lonely boy looking for sounds to fill his deafening silence, a vengeful girl screaming her rage over lost love. Had they been choices at all? When had they stopped being their parents’ sins, and had they become their own? How long can you blame a mother’s failings, how long can a daughter or a son be defined by rage and guilt? Zoya could see the same query behind Nikolai’s eyes. He spoke again, tentative, a vulnerable edge to his voice. The lonely boy, looking for hope in the vengeful girl. 

“I want her to know me. I want her to care for me, to be honest. I feel protective of her. I feel like I cannot wait to show her every wonder I know of. The wonder of life, of adventure. The wonder of romance”, he managed to wink at her, “I wish to be for her the brother Vasily never was for me. To make up for lost time. This is idiotic, right?” 

He huffed at the end, as if he could dismiss the intense desire for a family that still haunted him; there was a slight plea in his look, darkened under the dim light of the fire. Zoya felt an ache in her throat, and she knew there were tears in her eyes. She could feel them clouding her sight. They belonged to the little raven-haired child that silently cried alone in a corner, in all her nightmares. It was not a cry for grief, but one of deluded wanting. She leaned in, brushing some golden strands from Nikolai’s face. He was looking at her like she was his light in the storm, even though he had just been the one to pull her back from a devouring pain. 

“We should have her here more often”, she said. Nikolai wiped one of her tears away. “We should have them here more often. Linnea and your father. You deserve to have this family, Nikolai.” 

Nikolai stopped his hand on her neck, grinning wider at her. 

“Zoya, I already have one.” She frowned at him.

“I hardly count as a family. I am just me.”

“Then I’ll have two. So long as you stop referring to yourself as just you.” Zoya rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. He started fidgeting with a loose silver bead on her kefta’s cuff. Another unnerving habit of his, the way he always snatched those away. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I wasn’t an only child. I would have had someone to shield and someone to shelter in. To give me purpose, I suppose.”

A little brother, a little sister whom she could watch grow up and think how much better than her they were, how much softer, how much worth preserving. Though it had not been like that, for Sabina and Lilyiana. It was best not to linger on what ifs. She huffed and shifted, suddenly nervous; time to face this problem head on. “You think I should help her, right?”, she asked, knowing damn well what the answer was. Needless to say, Sabina’s letter pleaded for Zoya’s support, lamenting her misfortunes, and praising her daughter’s victories. Especially the gifts she could share. Even if she had not stated it, Zoya was sure that a jewel or two would be just fine. Greedy and hollow like she remembered. 

“I think you should do what makes you comfortable.” Zoya shot him a threatening glare, and he chuckled. “Fine”, Nikolai added, “but don’t kill me. I think you’ll keep the weight on your chest as long as you do not help her. I think maybe it would bring you some peace to do it. Still, I support whatever decision you make.” He marked the last words, and she knew he meant it. 

“I don’t want to be the bearer of my mother’s misery.” Zoya despised herself a little while admitting it. An exasperated grunt erupted from her as she threw her hands in the air. “How can I feel responsible for her?”

“I guess that’s the curse of being a daughter. You can’t relent the blood in your veins, not anymore that you can ignore the good heart that thrived inside you behind all of your spite.”

Maybe the secret is that we need not pass judgment over them. Maybe the secret is to forgive them.

How she loathed when Nikolai was right. It made him insufferable. And unfortunately, he was right most of the time. Unbearably reasonable. He smirked, as if he could read her thoughts and sense his victory.

Zoya might have been an angry and unloved little thing, but that was not what she was anymore. She had been a soldier, a general, a loyal friend. She was a queen now. And most certainly not alone, she thought, gazing at the confident ball of sunshine seated next to her. Had this happened before the war, before knowing Nikolai, her crueler and colder heart would have prevailed and she wouldn’t have thought twice on this, burning the letter along with her sentiment. The beaming boy had definitely rubbed off on her.

“I can not forgive her, or them. I do not have it in me. And I cannot forget, not for now”, she said, cautious. That was what Lilyiana had always desired for her: to release the hold on her anger. For her, she could try. “But I can start by letting go. We can find her work in a factory, with a salary and some retirement money. I can provide her with a dignified life. That is all I can do. I will not get a letter from her anymore; I will not grant her audience or listen to her words. Someone will have to deal with this.” 

Juris roared inside her, clearly displeased. Hush, you lizard. How irritating of him. Be a dragon, bide your time and stop harassing me. Enough progress for today. Nikolai, on the contrary, smiled at her with relief, nudging her closer. 

“We will arrange it.” He let her rest her head in the crook of his neck, curling his arms around her. “Do you think you can close your eyes and rest for a while now?”. His voice was already coming from afar, as she inhaled deeply in his skin and her lashes fluttered closed with exhaustion. Zoya wished her days as queen would become less tiring, and she also wished they could always end in Nikolai’s safe hold. Her mind fell silent; the last thing she heard was his whisper hovering around her. “I got you, Zoya.”

Zoya could still be a daughter, could take the raven-haired child in her arms. Daughter of the wind. She could still be whole, worthy, and loved. We see you. She could be at peace. The world went black; yet, it was not dark.

As much as I love Kara’s parental angst in season 1, I also don’t completely get when people are so upset that Kara didn’t go off on her parents for the things she went off on season 1. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for any deeper exploration of Kara’s issues, but at the same time, the Kara of season 1 was a lot younger and a lot more inexperienced. Compared to that the Kara who found Alura again and the Kara who found Zor-El again has been through a lot of additional shit that season 1 Kara hadn’t been yet. 

So to me it doesn’t seem unreasonable that that would give Kara a different perspective than what she had when she was just starting out, that maybe there are things more important in life than being angry at your parents. 

IMO Alex, way more than Kara, has been the one who is falls back into being unable to to get over slights of the past (as came out for example during Jeremiah’s funeral). 

Yes, Kara carried a lot of baggage and a lot of trauma, but she also has some history of productively getting over things. So that she would use seeing her mother again discussing Astra feels very in line with her characterization to me. (and you can always fanwank that Kara harboring some internal unease might be why she bid Alura goodbye and we haven’t really heard much in regard to them staying in close contact, why Kara finds it hard to fully embrace Argo emotionally). 

Some takes on her character just seems way too stuck on season 1 characterization and seems to be unwilling to let Kara change, grow and mature. 

And yeah the way she handled Mon-El in season 3 and her disappointment that he is with somebody else now strikes me as a good example of that characterization of hers. She was upset, but she got to a point where she was generally over it and tried to put any resentment behind her and instead (imo) tried focus on forming a more collegial, professional, even friendship with him. Rather than be mad at him forever, she tries to focus on the positives, on the things they still have in common. 

Kara has lost a lot and experienced a lot of hardship, so no, I wouldn’t expect her to pick a fight with her father as opposed to just being relieved that he is alive. Which doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t think it was really cool if they maybe had a mature conversation about how awful her trip to earth was for her and how that affected how she thought of her parents back then when she was younger. But if it doesn’t happen it’s not the end of the world (and would also still fit with Kara characterization in burying quite a lot of her pain). 

Would I be happy if it came up with Zor-El? Sure. But it doesn’t mean that I think that Kara’s story with Alura is unfinished somehow just because Kara didn’t go off on her and instead just basked in the joy of fighting side by side with her mother.