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incarnateirony · 2 months

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SIGH. LIKE. ALMOST.

Dw guy her friend's old house haunted by the demon named after the car from Supernatural and Like Crowley only burned down the place after they left. But you know, does it have to be Appalachian Entities that she listens to the warning from or about or like, what. Like we're so close.

Impala gave them a year to fix their mistakes. And even though they'd only lived with Impala a year, somehow their previous home had burned down a year prior.

come on elsa, keep the water moving.

She's still so ensnared by ideas like distance, too, how odd. "I'm 700 miles away, I don't know how to help" has the same energy as "the reaper wants me to stay in the state."

Wonder why everything got "Extra Spicy" lately. I swear I heard that lately, wonder why it's in such standout quotes, oh well.

The new family is extremely disrespectful to the property, and ruined two decades of spiritual work between the three of us*. They even interrupted the space given as his private place. They ripped up every protective hedge, and even threw away a gravestone.

They're messy. They trash the house itself, doing EVERYTHING she had asked Impala to keep from happening.

Man she is REALLY fucking up the weather in here.

Happy burn my dread interrupting my playlist last night folks. The fire itself was a bit ago but. That is not what I was angling for last night, but ok. Lady the moral is right there

Stop trashing my house. you pretend you want a new house. Go be in that house, you have your own game lobby, you fucked up and now yours is mine, and I'm winning.

Hey, Shea, since you're starting to connect with Old You. What's some other things that were happening around 2011-12?

Do you remember a day you tried to help a boy following Set take my eye? Where Ash and Ero as we called them then seemed to be fighting over me, and you misunderstood, and I paid the price? Something something light a cig with my fingertip while Sephiroth is in the house. I ended up gone for a week, a few things kept me turning. Who and what? Hermes and... it didn't know how to spell it's name, it wasn't ready yet.

Do you remember a day you almost died in the woods to Ash screaming, or Junpeiper telling you to run and throwing you, and the circle of unmoving water and the tree?

Keep the water moving, Elsa.

What? I like Supernatural and his fucking car, okay? Ur welcome SPN fans.

Oh Baby Baby Baby

Ever wake up from a dream with real weird narrative consistency?

lady blease, did you never find it weird that Impala* was supposedly sealed in a ring for a bajillion years, but knew about a fucking car and had a preference?

BLEASE. MAAM?

He never did tell you his actual name. But he's Like Your Crowley. But I told you, both in song and text, no more truce, you're wrecking my place. And you're fucking up generational weather now.

Guess we gotta keep working it harder doing it faster to land a message.

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lady, THAT is your dress, you look better in it. And it was never in the cat I hired to stare at you. Or Luna aphrodovey three told you to name after the moon. Just get over it and give me back my fucking air jordans already. Just hop all the way off it. Delete the shadows in your galleries, truly fix what is broken on your altar you already realized the gods disapproved of, be honest to your friends to make sure they do the same, and so on. And you know. Face yourself.

That's all this has ever been about, you driving backwards pain in the ass. You really trying to drag us to a zero point. You're on the wrong path, you spoke and acknowledged it. It's not too late to turn around and look at it. You can go through the water, it needs to move, lady.

Boys just love throwing their big rocks in bodies of water, and sometimes, you just gotta smash Atohallan with a fucking dickhammer. Cuz lady it's FUCKING FROZEN. MOVE. Yeah, you never Really Knew Any Man(gods). But that's fine. You have your own boots for walking.

YOU have to move the box. You can't wait for me to do it, or to climb into you to move it. YOU have to MOVE THE BOX. I know one of my three promises was you never had to Work while you were with me unless you want to Do The Work. And by god, you've forced me to stay with you whether you realize it or not. But I'm doing anything I can to make you want to. Do the Work that is, not stay with me oh my god. And to get you Out. And to get done whatever you need in my capacity.

It's a Craft of Mine.

please please please the water started running and ice started breaking in your head last night, memedaddy is calling honey, it's time to let it go.

this has been your daily cat distribution from dailyspooky

If it helps at all, after being this far up your literal ass since you're all up mine, I think your ancestral memory layers Athena and Freyja genetically, there's some Aphrodite bullshit going on, and I don't know which of the three moons big girl is still but she STILL scares me. Or maybe it's more, she's all three, but only once Shealyn, you know, doesn't just look at it but walks the path. Trismegistus isn't the only triplicate. There's a girl version. We been yelling that at you lots. Cuz you also had Verartemis. YO BEAR LADY, LISTEN. I know you got a reputation to keep, but how many times you gonna slip on that bear skin onto me and blame me?

Stop throwing it at cats and birds and exes or anubis and the kibble bowl for precious on fursuit friday. Turn around, go back, and look at it. Your dress and boots are better than mine anyway.

I figured out why seeing through her eyes has blacked out strips I couldn't see through right. It's like Marie. She's Marie. Kusano covering her face sobbing because she can't look at it. It's okay Mary, whatever's on the other side of that door, man. I already came this far. I ain't stopping now. We told you out of the gate before you insisted on doubling down and speeding up. We know you can do this. That's why it's so frustrating.

And why we collectively loathe your new family even if we want a different and happier path for you. Them. That's why everyone said they killed his goddess by enabling this. Lady. Lady please. This IS the intervention. Call it suicide prevention, call it divine intervention, whatever. But please listen. You're thinking of who you were in 2011-2012. That's good. You turned back, kind of. Now it's time to figure out where you messed up and drive forward again, but you gotta look at it. Please don't back up the purolator truck again, southpaw hermes is TIRED.

Keep the water moving, Elsa. Around when you posted this, I had already gone and met you at the door, whether or not you remember it. Lady, you're so close. I'll even go cheese the reaper for you again today lady, but that shit gonna respawn now until you let the lies you've told yourself go and set yourself free.

The rain tore up the circle. Tear it up again. Let the fog break. Let the cycle break. Let the water move. It's okay to go through it, if you can face yourself. I already told you, if you give away these leaden grudges, we'll drive forward one last time with you. You can be your own Asherah tree without me.

#ever wake up from a dream with real weird narrative consistency #man 2010-2012 was a TIME #these new tenants are so disrespectful #they're undoing 20 years of work between The Three Of Us #remix brought to you by friggin TTripleT #ITS YA BOI 2009 HOT TOPIC JEBUS GRINDING WITH THE SQUAD #USE THE CROWLEY VOICE I HEAR THAT HELPS #sup maya I'm in the house like CARPET #I'M HENRY AND I'M FUCKING TIRED #THE MOVIE ENDING IS BETTER #my boy is EXPIRING to get to that door and make good on his promise #WE DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS COCAINE BEAR MOVIE IS #OR WHAT YOU'VE TURNED INTO SINCE 2010 #THAT'S A PIECE OF CRAP PERSON #and your friends complaining about the FeMC path never tried #THEY CLEARLY NEVER HEARD THE ORIGINAL VOICE ACTOR #how many have REALLY played the FeMC path #lady you weren't supposed to eat the rumpockyoccultum #that was in fact a joke not a suggestion #you ate the damn chips and now everything is fucking weird #cmon persephone pspspspspspspspsps #u can have the tropicana snowglobe if you do this?? trade???

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vedritied · 2 years

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[ fah yongwaree , twenty three , cis woman , she or her ] in the time of dragons , larra rogare is entering the game of thrones . said to be passionate + intuitive , we can only hope that is the case as regrettably they are also well known to be merciless + entitled . when asked about them , people are always reminded of a pale canvas dotted with tiles , stones and crystals of various shades to form a mosaic of her likeness upon the walls of the lovely sister of the free cities ; when sylvia plath said , ❝ the month of flowering is finished . the fruit is in , eaten or rotten . i am all mouth . ❞ ; mauveine hues peering up from beneath the iridescent shimmer of her painted face , the dust of hundreds of crushed pearls illuminating each sharp angle and swooping curve ; when venetta octavia said , ❝ i am woven together by story , held firm by myth . look at me . i will tell you of the men that ate me bloody . i will tell you of how ferociously i bit my way out of their stomachs . ❞ ; the gentle sound of glass meeting glass with each step she takes , lips dyed blue by the shade of the evening . though they are the lady of�� lys , their true loyalties lie with house rogare and rumour has it that if given the choice they would support their family above all else . those of us in the shadows wish them luck and can only hope they will survive what is to come .

[ basics ] ⸻

full name : larra rogare.

meaning : larra is derived from the latin word lūcēre which means to shine.

epithet : the little sister of lys, the blue beauty.

titles ( chronologically ) : lady of lys, companion to princess aerea targaryen, lady in waiting to lady shaera rogare.

gender + pronouns : cis woman + she or her.

orientation : bisexual demiromantic.

age : twenty three.

[ background + familial ] ⸻

date of birth : the 12th day of the 8th moon, 393 a.c.

place of birth : the rogare manse, lys, essos.

religious views : the cat goddess, pantera and the weeping lady of lys.

father : ruling lord rogare, the first magister of lys.

mother : ruling lady ilithyia rogare née aurionerys.

siblings : lady shaera rogare ( half sister ).

partner : not available.

allegiances : house rogare of lys.

[ appearance ] ⸻

faceclaim : fah yongwaree.

hair color : a dark brown with hints of a lighter, caramel shade in the sun ─ her hair is thick and of a moderate length, reaching to the middle of her back when unbound. it has a straight texture and typically is left unbound with strands pulled into braids for an accentuating style.

eye color : mauveine purple.

height : 5′4″ or 167cm.

built : ectomorph ─ larra is small - boned and petite, though her limbs are long, giving off the appearance that she is taller.

distinguishable marks + scars : no marks or scars of special note. larra was extremely protected as a child and was oft not allowed to run for too long. any childhood injuries were tended to with extreme care to discourage scarring.

piercings + tattoos : sporting several piercings on her ears as well as a septum piercing, larra also has two tattoos on the underside of her arms. on her right arm is the figure of a lady, colored in black save for her tears which are left unfilled and on her left arm is the shape of a black cat. both tattoos had been done in a show of devotion to her goddesses.

[ personality ] ⸻

zodiac sign : leo.

mbti : tba.

enneagram : tba.

temperament : tba.

moral alignment : chaotic neutral.

element : fire.

[ timeline ] ⸻ tw for parental neglect, kidnapping, death by poison, drug use ( shade of the evening ).

393 a.c. : larra rogare is born to the first magister of lys and his second wife, ruling lady ilithyia rogare née aurionerys of sothoryos.

398 a.c. : at twelve years old, shaera rogare is sent to westeros to foster with house lannister. larra is only five when her sister leaves and while old enough to remember what her sister looks like, she is deprived of making any lasting memories with her only other sibling. a connection between the sisters is kept with the drawings that larra sends to shaera in the letters exchanged between lys and westeros, and when larra is old enough to write legible words, she scribbles a demand for her sister to return with every raven sent.

400 a.c. : at seven years old, larra is taken to the temple of pantera by her mother who is a staunch follower of the cat goddess. while larra takes to the teachings, escorted from the rogare manse to the temple daily for her lessons, she sometimes evades her guardians to lurk in the alleyways that lead to the temple of the weeping lady, curious about the worshippers and their blue - tinged mouths.

403 a.c. : in spite of her mother’s warnings, larra joins the following of the weeping lady, becoming a devotee of two goddesses. it is by luck that pantera and the weeping lady are aligned in teachings ─ the cat teaches her to be silent and sure - footed, and the lady teaches her how to smile with poison between her teeth.

404 a.c. : shaera returns to lys after six years away. larra, eleven and on the cusp of adolescence rebellion, delights in the stories that she is told of westeros though her mother firmly refuses to hear any pleas of being fostered as shaera was, threatening to lock her in her room if she continued to ask. the return of her sister sees an added maturity to larra, however, who wishes to emulate her wise older sister in fashion and in action.

409 a.c. : though her father does not allow larra to involve herself in the management of the bank, she takes to stealing into his offices to familiarize herself with the books. it is larra who notices a small discrepancy in funds every month that she brings to the attention of her mother ( who then brings it to the attention of her father ) ─ the small miscalculation in funds, seen as a minor issue easily pointed towards something changeable like household costs ( which larra had begun to study as part of her education to be future wife and lady of another banking family ), is actually an attempt to funnel coin from the rogare bank into another bank by one of their accountants. once discovered, the group of accountants are cut lose and publicly condemned for their actions, leaving them undesirable and unemployed.

411 a.c. : fueled with dissatisfaction towards house rogare, larra is kidnapped by the former employees of the rogare bank on her way to the temple of the weeping lady and held for ransom. while her religious devotions had taken a backseat in her interests in the family business and pushing her way into the bank regardless of her father’s wishes, she remembers her childhood teachings and continues to carry a vial of the tears of lys on her person, tucked between her breasts. tipping the vial into the water jug of her captors, larra watches, curled in a small ball beneath the table, as they writhe in pain before death.

412 a.c. : larra receives her two tattoos at the temples of pantera and the weeping lady to symbolize what she had done to survive. in accordance with the weeping lady’s beliefs, she begins to ingest the shade of the evening though she does not do so for religious pursuits but to give her some peace from the nightmares of the past year.

413 a.c. : her father’s former in - laws and shaera’s cousins, house haen of lys, report that a wedding is to occur between a son of their house and a westerosi princess. wishing to see some delight return to her daughter’s eyes, her mother sends her to serve as a companion to the princess aerea ─ while larra bristles at the thought of serving a foreign princess, she bites her tongue and does as she is bidden, not wishing to distress her mother further. surprisingly, she does get along with the princess and as her mother intends, larra slowly comes out of her shell, becoming a fierce companion for the princess.

414 a.c. : a death within the house of targaryen promptly sees her sister, shaera, return to lys on the request of their father. though larra does spend most of her time in the haen household, clutching at freedom whenever possible, the sisters do have a chance to properly reconnect as adults outside of the rogare manse and the shadow of their father.

415 a.c. : when matteno haen passes in an unfortunate ( and ridiculous ) accident, plans are made to see princess aerea return to westeros after it is proven that she is without child. though larra is grieved to bid adieu to her friend, her thoughts quickly become occupied when she is made aware of her father’s plans to wed shaera to the recently widowed prince daemon targaryen. when it is announced to the family that her sister is to return to westeros to become it’s future queen, larra offers herself as a lady in waiting to shaera in her desire to support her sister during such a stressful time ─ it is something that her mother cannot begrudge her and the two rogare sisters depart lys for westeros.

416 a.c. : present year.

[ personality ] ⸻

passionate ⸻ : an easily excitable child who became a heavily repressed young woman, larra is a creature of many passions and pursuits, though her flame of interest oft times fades when a subject becomes boring or familiar. this habit of discarding hobbies, studies and, at times, people, is also the reason why she lacked childhood companions in her youth and why she was forced to spend so much time with her suffocating mother, leading her to develop a mental maturity at a tender age that did not align with her emotional maturity. this negatively affects her to this day as she is often believes she is ready for adult milestones but her emotions have not quite caught up with her head, leading her to have explosive meltdowns and depressive episodes before she perks back up the next day as though nothing ever happened. while she does burn extremely hot before the cold sets in, it is wrong to say that larra feels no guilt for how quickly she jumps from one thing to the next though her sense of entitlement often eases away whatever lingering remorse she might feel especially if the subject is of little consequence in comparison to her elevated position as lady of lys.

intuitive ⸻ : perhaps the trust that she places in her gut feelings stems from a confidence that she cannot be wrong but even if misguided, the belief in her instincts has not led her astray thus far and her near - brush with death has further honed her natural suspicion of the world around her. while some might see her as overly paranoia, especially when it comes to the safety of her family and herself, larra cannot be swayed from her course once she sets her mind for or against something or someone, and can be depended on to give her unbiased opinion of something by those who are not as decisive or certain as she can be.

merciless ⸻ : a cruel streak possessed as a child has developed into sheer bloodlust at times, though her unforgiving nature is not only confined to matters of life and death. as mentioned above, when larra sets her mind to something, she is not likely to shift from her opinion, regardless of the change of circumstance or new information being brought to life. this stubbornness can be seen as a lack of mercy or sympathy for those around her but she has been harmed one - too - many times and refuses to apologize for standing by her beliefs. she thinks it is necessary to be willing to “be the bad person” and is more than willing to shed blood and tears in defense of herself and her sister. larra is bullheaded and, for the most part, has gone unchallenged in lys, though things are bound to come to a point in westeros as she is no longer a part of the highest family in the country.

entitled ⸻ : with a disinterested father and a mother who attempted to make up for such negligence by smothering her with whatever she needed, it is no wonder that larra has grown to belief that the world begins and ends with her. a combination of birthright and sheer self - confidence only further emphasizes this sense of entitlement as she has never been wrong ( though one might argue if this was truly the case or if people were just too afraid to go against whatever she said ), and she brings that haughty exterior to westeros as a means to defend herself against getting too attached to anyone or anything in the foreign land. while it is off - putting, her near - brush with death has changed her even if she will not publicly expose herself to be humbled, falling back onto a younger, bratty persona to keep people at arms length.

[ tidbits ] ⸻ tw for parental neglect, kidnapping, death by poison, trauma, drug use + addiction ( shade of the evening ).

the aurionerys family were of valyrian stock from old valyria ─ the family had settled in sothoryos some years before the doom of valyria and remained there after even though houses targaryen, velaryon and celtigar had chosen westeros to conquer. while house aurionerys had come to sothoryos with their dragons, clearing away the forests and beasts to build a small city in the heart of the jungle, the conditions of the land were not welcoming to young dragons and the aurionerys family became dragonless after the death of their last dragon, juiraegon, in 59 a.c. the lady ilithyia rogare née aurionerys was the first member of the family to be sent out of sothoryos in decades, marrying the first magister of lys in an effort to tie the free cities to the wilderness of sothoryos.

larra was an absolutely brat as a child. her mother overindulged her to make up for the fact that her father had very little interest in her comings and goings, and by the time she had turned five, larra knew just how to guilt her mother into a quick forgiveness to avoid being disciplined.

lady ilithyia was a woman of the people and she attempted to raise larra in a similar manner with little success ─ while her mother gave freely to others, larra was conditional in her favor and adored the attention she received from the public. she delighted in their attempts to please her but she was fickle in her affection towards those she considered lesser than her, often casting aside common companions whenever she tired of them. larra has not changed much in her appraisal of others, preferring to associate with those that can benefit her situation and enrich her way of life even now.

that being said, she is fiercely protective of her sister and those that she sees as family. though they were not given a lot of opportunities to form a close bond as children, she adores shaera ( who she sees as someone who is better than her and someone who deserves only good things, very much idolizing her because she does not know her well enough ) and is more than willing to get her hands dirty in defense of her sister. her epithet, the blue beauty, was recently coined by a courtier in king’s landing after she had struck him for implying something salacious of her sister ─ much like a snake poised for a strike, she curls around her sister’s heel in false slumber with poison in her fangs.

the sweet sister until you do or say the wrong thing though with larra, the wrong thing can range from stepping in her path to insulting her family ─ we stan an unpredictable woman !!

is not for this whole valyrian ancestry is superior even if she, herself, is valyrian. ( on that note, it would be hilarious if she fell in love with someone who had valyrian ancestry because she will try to deny that connection for as long as possible ... larra, kissing someone of valyrian descent : i fucking hate you !!! )

math nerd !!! her head moves so fast and mathematics is one of the few things that she has never gotten tired of. she takes easily to the accounts of the rogare household and that is also why she spotted the mistake in the books of the rogare bank ─ having done the books for her mother since she was twelve ( to keep her from bouncing around the house and knocking something or someone over ), larra knew how much the family spent on the household per month and how much they were likely to go over the budget. knowing her father would not listen to her and enraged that someone who dare to cheat them, she went to her mother with the news though she sometimes wishes that she had just kept quiet, cussing her own short fuse and poor impulse control.

the trauma of being kidnapped as a young woman is definitely fresh in her mind no matter the pretense that she puts on and it is also why she is so defensive of her sister ( and of women in general ). larra was not inflicted with any bodily harm during the ordeal but she was treated poorly and threatened with death should her father fail to pay the ransom. for a time, she believed he might just leave her there, unaware or uncaring that he had another daughter to care for, which led to her desperate actions in killing her captors ─ when she was found, she was still under the table, clutching the empty vial to her lips.

she still takes a small dose of the shade of the evening to clear her mind and give her pleasant dreams. it gives her mouth a slight blue tinge ( adding onto her epithet ) but otherwise has no physical affect on her in the day ─ in the evenings, however, she experiences a type of withdrawal and is unable to sleep without the liquid.

with her elder sister in a position to become the future queen of westeros, larra knows that the pressure of keeping shaera safe lies on her shoulders, and she is desperate to ensure that the wedding goes on without an issue regardless of her own misgivings to the match. she is hopefully that with the successful union, her father might begin to take her more seriously and allow her to take on a bigger role in the rogare bank which she might someday inherit.

[ connections ] ⸻

to be available.

#thrones.intro #parental neglect tw #kidnapping tw #death tw #trauma tw #drug use tw #addiction tw

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wander-wren · 1 year

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wren's clangen adventures, pt 1

i played clangen for like?? two weeks back when it was first a thing in august, then stopped bc College, but....i love cats. so lets get back into it. new version of the game, new clan, all that. if i get into it enough maybe we will do a fanfic or a sideblog or something

pt 2 will probably be like, me making proper lore and things. if it ever happens. woo

this post is just gonna be me making my brand new clan and probably yelling about the changes of almost three months. be warned its 1 in the morning

first of all, SO many cool new settings, lets go, its prettier?? wow?? okay clan time. i spent like 15 minutes trying to think of a clan name lol and decided to go with hazeclan. foggy bros?? i guess

and LOOK at this lovely lady right off the BAT. i like the idea of a faithful leader. also i think shes pretty. lets go

oh no i didnt look at anyone else closely and now i got a buncha elders and a buncha babies. no thats a lie i have some okay people. like this pretty lady who will be brightstar's deputy :)) buckfoot is just. i thought it was weird name but its grown on me

alright, he's kinda plain looking, but his name intrigues me AND he's got a strange trait, mans has to be medcat. hellooo hawkhare

hm collected everyone except the elders....let it be known that they are called bigwatcher, daygoose, and antwish. i recruited daygoose bc cmon, goose suffix??

ooh wait i can CHOOSE THEIR TERRITORY?? okay where would you live if you were named hazeclan....mountain cliff? it was either that or beach tidepools but im not feeling a beachy vibe

look at themmm

WAIT CATS CAN BE TRANS NOW

DAYGOOSE IS NONBINARY?????

hell yeah good for them

alright let's play through a year real quick and see what happens

wait I CAN TRANS THE CAT'S GENDER?? who will be my test dummy,,,,, hell yeah lichenblossom

also daygoose got given a holly berry i shouldnt get attached to the old people but they are so CUTE

AWW jaypaw and daygoose each had a positive interaction with each other. cuteee. ALSO WE GOT A NEW KIT!! brookkit. clangen refused to take this into account but let it be known that lichenblossom found her. we also found a loner!! her name is mouseheart she is LOVELY

so basically shes my new favorite. prebby baby. survivor of a tragedy backstory?? we love angst. also patient and good teacher. cute traits

mayday yall daygoose FELL IN A RIVER and got hurt

also. lmao

daygoose is a badass. they got a scar defending the territory

the flavor text, funnily enough, is "thinking about how too many cats die young." daygoose will outlive all of us and if they dont uhh i'll hack the game. daygoose forever

next moon: daygoose fucking dies

i swear yall i spent a solid hour attempting to resurrect daygoose bc the new game files confused me and uhhh i accidentally broke something somewhere and now it will Not open :]] its okay i uhh immediately went to bed and forgot i was drafting this post so good evening. daygoose is at the moment schrodinger's cat.

i have too much Shit to do in my real not-cat-related life unfortunately but when i get some time again i will look into The That. tune in later for hazeclan adventures

#wrens clangen adventures #hazeclan: the saga #<<those will be my tags for this #clangen #warrior cats #wc oc clan #wc ocs #as i type these tags and it is no longer three in the morning i think i thought of a clangen solution lol so stay tuned

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libidomechanica · 1 year

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“Take it”

While we may never not be so. One with pointed, expectant. And through they met, and many days be overpast, disabled age shall arbitrary queen of sense filling cart as a cat, or a juggler hates a car bomb … And in the

centre as thine: the comfortable green-blue wild storm’s strife to usher back his perpendicular. As she gathering of usages! And on the human foot, of lip, of eye, or once show to thee: but little next, what must be sought

to the digits of my mournful head, ye roses almost three-parts pain! Old Susan groans of ambitious magic: every onward soul were things accomplish’d:- If he utterly, it might her an effort, which you shoul’dst be contented, vaunted,

she gathers the soul were ticklish ground; beside a learned Nor Jove, and peaks so high that has twa the very part was consecrate to the roots of the bed therefores from hue-golden pomp is come, when at my should lend out

shame; I willing run, yet shining until only a gift, and thus all were re-animated. The Powers which she did keepe. Enchantment grew drunken pleasures as she has but a giant’s asleep. On seruants shame oft maisters of

freemasons; and thy swinck, that chaste breast. And that was as capable as woman bears with Lady Adeline, and listen their handsome man, that thy fair in ilka quarter: she has another can hindering the golden song apollo

singeth, whate’er the hears what you have endless life than a stanch one; but only call’d by the melancholy mirth; but on, on the wing, as Captain Parry’s voyage may come of those hearts, Love hath cast his palace, that if I fail of my

lighted way. Take it. Upon whose tie I see that ill was past and balsamum, to market by this Exchange! Let me feel their fasting freedoms of the passe all there we are store of; witness he that chamber hie, these utterly of

self-intent; contented, when thou sit to bless every where, by her loose gown from off then! I told the moon is weaving her brightness, Mercy, Majesty, and tell a different, with a Kidde, now gay, but never guess, I’ll be in the place sound

were his travellers on form and fair; and it should be told, how much which we can gain is swerving. ’ Street to take bread: the morning that beauty may cloy when wrong’d a heart up solemnly, as once Electric current passes that bright, can love

is blind, for I no more, the crimson stomacher—a cuff neglectful, and the sky, seres Spring ended, I shall she condition thus. No life, no light footsteps in the same, give me one part; sweete, for one so weak to ventures. All, the snow

cover me, and could not vary, is constantly, was something will be. The which, thou art ripe age, for restrain. The worth’s unknown burial. Ride those bodies meet in Lethe to be won, beauteous self relented to your people purely kissed

the heart of losing isn’t hard to master. That she condition. And the Doctors’ Commons: but shepheards sayd Algrind often sayne. Nor cheek or the remnant worth gives life would make good company. Thee, my Philly! And yet, because I wonder

do inuite to haue for no cause. If I had thought be taken up the steaming tea and sky. Of the south summer, then hey, for a lass wi’ a tocher, then calm speech should stay. The current of Plumeria, and then apart, which sigh by might

need hardly can summo foelicitas. A woundedness their riot even glean the head whenas the clients’ cost, of hand, and else can come near. Tipple in their souls to pick up shoes, you saw thee, when wilt thou but this tries anyway,

so brave, unable to women, lovely knight are bright, she’s got into pieces small amount: though not no more shall take; she shall forbid! Of the tide, ladie, sae comely to be extraordinary. And gold, then hey, for a young wife than

tempt further. Sets to soft music has soul that hobbles up the whole self once to thee. Shut up thine influence of this kind why will unclose me, i and my life its praise or blazing forth, wanting Inuentions are a mother, and in a

voice, youth should stifled with lily leave me? Him whom she employing some hoped thing’s face with thine argentine, all bluely dash’d through the azure clear March with fresh ornament. Yet deign, white goodnights. Romances reduced to breed a name and spirals,

and from the great god Pan, laughed the wind to blow the least grim look, or cast a frown aside, and watch all night i’ the matrons frown’d; some hoped thing to its heart break in pious consort did: if he could be told me close, blowing water-fall.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #149 texts #ballad

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whatstheoccasion · 2 years

Text

— THE MOON IS BEAUTIFUL, ISN'T IT?

"More. I want us to be more. Do you understand?"

There. He said it. He slowly sits to his full height, ears burning red and a permanent scowl refusing to leave his face–

And he sighs exasperatedly at the confusion in your face. "You don't get it?"

> Law finally confesses– except, it's not that easy.

warnings: explicit mentions of death, grief and depression. major spoilers for dressrosa and law’s past. +16 for one (1) suggestive line. tags: no pronouns are used except for a stranger calling the reader 'lady' once. fluff. jealous law. can legally count as angst with a happy ending or slow-burn. mushy feelings. title from that old japanese saying.

word count: 5,2k.

playlist: above the clouds – cyndi lauper ft. jeff beck, iris – goo goo dolls, love you 'till the end – the pogue

You squeeze him closer to you, making Law grumble quietly like a cat, mostly out of habit. The sound of the falling autumn leaves and the smooth rising of your chest against his back could easily lull him to a peaceful sleep.

Peace. It’s been a while since the feeling last visited him.

"I'm happy that I met you, Law."

Law cringes, biting his tongue to keep himself from arguing with you.

He finds it very hard to believe he could bring anyone happiness, not when he himself hasn't felt anything but hate for a long, long time. Happiness felt too pure, innocent for a man like him.

But you told him, once, that he needed to start believing in you more.

Trust. That’s the word you used.

He doesn't know what to do with someone so happy to be near him, but it wasn’t a bad feeling at all, if the warmth that now spread across his chest was anything to go by.

"Let's go back to town," he says, letting himself sink in the warmth of your body for just a second longer before he gets up, pulling you up to your feet with him. "It's the final day of the festival."

The band you told me you liked is leaving town tonight, and you wanted to listen to them, he doesn't say. He doesn’t need to.

Making sure you were happy enough not to leave his side was something Law easily can get behind, especially when you beam up to him like this, sweet and excited, taking his hand to lead him straight into the commotion in town.

He would rather have all the cells in his body shrivel up and die before admitting it, though.

☽

Law is eight when he first goes on a school trip.

It wasn't a big deal. A simple walk to the nearest natural escapade, in this case, a winter forest.

Law counted in his head up to 120 until he got bored and distracted on the way there, one of his friends deciding to show him a bad drawing of a crooked, three legged cat. It somehow looked more like a penguin. Law didn't comment on it, instead asking his friend to draw something else, something fierce.

He got the drawing of a very debatable polar bear two minutes later. Law only stared at it. Then told his friend it was ugly, because it was, but all he got was a hearty laugh in response. "If it's so ugly why do you look like you want to keep it? Huh, Law?"

Maybe if he told him the drawing was bad enough, he could get it to himself. That's how asking for something worked, right?

It wasn't much later into his quarrel when Sister stopped, telling the class they arrived. He looks up to see the tiny forest with distrust.

But surprisingly, Law did have fun. He was always physically weaker than the rest of them, and more secluded, but that didn’t stop his friends from hanging out around him. Because they waited for him with easy steps, and laughed when he fell. The girls all have mixed feelings about him ("he's so scary," they whisper to each other, "yeah, but that's what makes him cool!"). But it's okay, because they never exclude him, and he feels just fine.

Maybe he could tell his parents about this place where he felt free. Lami would like the falling snow and crystalized flowers, and his parents could finally be as free as he felt. Law gets a nice memory added up to the bunch, coming home with scraped knees and a sheet of paper holding the face of a strange bear stuffed in his blazer's pocket.

Law saw the same kids screaming for their life two years later, crying for help in the middle of a city filled with Marines.

He couldn't turn a blind eye to his ruined city. As much as he wanted to, as bad as his eyes stinged with fear and worry for himself, he needed to keep them wide open to look at where he's headed to. So he sucks it up, and looks.

His friend was holding the now bloodied sketchbook with a tight grip, standing with as much fight in him as a 10 year old could possibly have.

He can still hear the Marine's clean shot to his head.

A few bodies behind him, Sister's dull eyes stared right into his soul.

Law runs, stumbling over unmoving bodies, eyes open and lifeless, but he can't stay long enough to think about it. Or his parents. Or Lami– he only avoids stepping on corpses and keeps running.

It marks the start.

☽

“You asked me about the name on my coat.” Law's voice fades off, and his eyes fall down to the delicate hand taking hold of the sand beneath him. “Still want to know?”

Your hand stops.

He fights the urge to take his words back. The sudden rush of adrenaline is begging him to drop everything and walk far, far away from you. He shouldn’t have said that. He should never see you and your cursed ability to make him voluntarily open up to you ever again, he needs to leave and never look back.

The thought doesn’t last long, though.

You take a second to answer him, but your eyes are gentle when you look up, if not a little surprised. “Of course I do.”

The beach is calm otherwise. Way past midnight, the crew is soundly asleep many feet behind you both. This whole island is filled with fisherman and kind locals, and this deep into the night, it's very quiet. Tranquil.

He resents it.

There was nothing to keep him distracted, no one to burst into your conversation interrupting like the dramatic movies Shachi and Penguin watched way too loudly with their stolen, fancy den-den-mushi. The sand is steady beneath his feet, exceptionally so for the Grand Line.

So with the sound of soft waves easying his mind, Law sits down, and talks.

There isn’t much to say, really. Sure, at times his voice gets rough and tight around the edges, and his throat is constantly closing down in distress, making the brief story that much harder to tell. But it was okay. Law only takes a second to breathe, to engrave the feeling of your hand tightening around his (when did you come closer, actually?), and continues.

Grief grips him tightly, and he feels sharp claws of regret over his past decisions scratching inside his chest, shoulders and neck, clouding his mind with red, angry thoughts. Unforgiving.

He can’t close his eyes, knowing what awaits him if he dares to do so.

Even now, as he talks, he can see it in a point above the water. The face of a marine walking into a lost child in the raging snow, something he can’t recognize stuck to his face. The same marine carries the child, taking him to his demise with steps certain, firm. Then, the demise itself. The screams, what he thought were his last breaths, the frustration for being so weak and little.

The last smile of a man he loved like his own father.

He’s not ready to tell you just why he was so weak. Why was he too small, easily sickened at age 13. Alone. Not now, anyways. He's already risking a nightmare tonight, by bringing back all these memories to surface.

You’re both sitting up now. The familiar smell of your shampoo flutters with the late night breeze straight to him, bringing Law a sense of comfort– safety, even, and he finds himself welcoming the feeling.

Talking about his past feels less like a weight lifted from his shoulders, and more like yanked off his entire body.

You answer him in quiet hmms, in gasps and involuntarily squeezes of your hand on top of his. Mellow rays of sunlight start to bright his mind slowly, steadily once he finally closes his eyes, and it’s replacing the intimate black fog he was so used to. He’s not quite sure if the light comes from you, or the sunrise.

He had told the story twice before. Once, to his three closest friends (family, now, really). And then the Strawhat kid, keeping the details out. It never quite felt like this, though.

He can only wish to never tell it again.

Silence fills the space between you both once it’s all said and done, and you're still taking his story in, squeezing his hand to your chest. Law doesn't mention the hot tears that fall onto his inked knuckles, his gaze focused on the white polka-dotted hat sitting innocently beside him.

He lets out a tired, long sigh. It almost feels like an out of body experience, having so many feelings yet not a certain way to deliver them, to talk about them. Letting them all out at once, because he doesn’t know how to do this in a different way. His explanation was no short of messy, for sure.

But you seem to get it, and you're holding him so strongly against your body like he'll break apart if you don't, and you're grounding him.

Wherever you touched him, it was a shot of motivation right to his defeated veins. To keep going. To find out why he was brought up in this screwed world. The weight of his name felt lighter where your encouragement touched it.

“There's no despair in this world, Law-kun. Someone will definitely lend you a helping hand.”

“Don’t ever attach a reason to the love you’ve received!”

More than hope, Law had faith. In you, there lived his faith.

☽

But he also knows not to forget his past, darker days with you. He still has to amend. He knows this a little too well.

He remembers yelling and pushing you away, stabbing words into your brain to the point of tears. He remembers thinking "I wish we never met", because everyone he loves dies and never comes back and Law can't go through that again. Not without it changing him for worse. He just can't. And the words die in his mouth before he gets to say them.

Until he does.

He says them, because there’s nothing else he can think of to make you go away, to leave him alone. And when his truthful thoughts and rude comments don’t deter you, he uses spiteful remarks and lies, as many lies as barriers he has around his guarded heart.

"I don't want you in my life. What I want is for you to drop it and leave me alone."

"If you can't be by yourself, fine. Go look for someone who cares."

The thought of Cora-san, of his parents looking down on him with disappointment weren't enough to keep his trap shut.

All he gets in return from you are stubborn glares. For every twisted truth he says, you stand strong, relentless in your way to his heart.

Iron fists are now framing your once gentle hands, thick-skinned and headstrong.

Law loathes it. He’s scared and spiteful, and he hates feeling like this. It shows through cruel lashes out and cold stares, and yet. Yet, you don’t give the fuck up.

You keep breaking down each and every one of his walls, leaving you both exhausted and naked, so vulnerable by the end of it. Your voice is laced with hurt and frustration when you call him out. “You think I'll buy that, Law? You think that you trying so hard to shut me out means that you don't care?"

Then, after a painful beat. "You’re trying damn hard to protect yourself, but what about me?”

You’ve left him bare, and there’s nowhere else to run. So Law chooses to ignore you as his trump card.

(In reality, it feels more like a desperate, ultimate resort. Like a kick without force. The final push before he can’t fight anymore.)

And it doesn’t work, because of course it doesn’t, and he runs out of excuses. Of plans. You won’t leave, Law's exhausted, and he doesn’t know if he feels more fondness or frustration over that fact.

He has no more cards under his sleeve, but even if he did, by now he’s sure you would have teared each one apart. Right in front of his face, too.

It's not a big fight what finally lets you in his life. He has already said everything he needed to say, and a little more. It's more like the calm after the storm.

So when the doctor’s too tired to resist his growing longing, when his words hurt him more than it does you, he relents. White flag waving shamefully. If anyone asks him, he was simply too busy as a doctor and Captain to keep "wasting his time" coming up with silly ideas to push you away.

It's here when “I wish we never met” turns into “Where the hell have you been all this time?”

☽

Law thrives taking beating hearts out of pirate's chests, that's a truth if he ever told one. He likes gruesome medicine cases, he smiles big while knifing some poor bastard up, and you know all of this. Still, your touch is gentle when you take his hand. Your face feels soft when you sleep on him, trusting the Surgeon of Death to keep you safe.

He doesn’t give up the cruel, sadistic part of himself. He doesn’t feel the need to, not when you accept him, a vicious, dangerous pirate part of the Worst Generation, for who he really is. He's purposely shown you his worst, still, you embrace him fully, intimately.

Your acceptance leads him to think of clumsy legs and broken smiles, sometimes. It also reminds Law of two hands much bigger than his own on his frail shoulders, smiling proudly down at him. Then, a tinier hand, gripping excitingly onto his shirt and following him around with an innocent smile. If he looks deep enough, he can see the drawing of a three legged cat, then a bear.

The fight inside you, though, brings other memories to surface; hopping from hospital to hospital on top of a strong back, a back so heavy with the weight of the world on its shoulders. The weight of life, and death.

And he feels undeserving, because living instinctively, impulsively, came to him as natural as his cruelty did, and he didn’t think there was any other way to live his life comfortably without feeling like dying.

Until you happened.

You pop into his brain everytime, fighting and chasing away his nightmares with a small wooden sword against every bad thing that comes to him, no matter how big and strong they are. Just like the soldiers in his dad’s books, you were courageous, and brave enough to try and love him.

Eventually, dream–Law joins you in your fight, side by side. Sometimes he fights for you, protecting you as you sit around waiting for him. Other days you do it for him, or next to him.

Sometimes he doesn't have nightmares at all, but he knows you'll be there when they come back.

“Not the glittering weapon fights the fight, but rather the hero's heart,” his dad once read to a smaller, happier version of himself, on his last peaceful night.

Law couldn’t quite take the words in, worrying about Lami’s eye bags and how tired she looked, not really taking the story in.

He thinks he gets it, now.

☽

Law still remembers sin, feeling like you can't and shouldn't be corrupted, and he now understands the heavy weight of responsibility that Dressrosa's knight had whenever he pushed his dirty hands inside gloves to protect what was innocent. Fearing corruption of the vulnerable is what brings honor to Kyro’s memory.

At times, Law wishes he could do the same with you.

Once he has you, the fear of you being forcefully taken from him is a constant thought in the back of his mind. Somedays, he wants to keep you in his front pocket, safe and protected from all evil.

But the feeling of your skin against his is something he can’t give up, now that he knows that it’s here to stay.

He lives for the gentle way you cup his face, caressing his cheeks. How warm his face feels when you hug him, skin to skin. When the softness of your lips kiss him, needy for his touch.

He relishes in the tight grip he holds against the flesh of your hips, your thighs, breathing in your skin. Your arms clinging to him, blunt nails marking his back as yours. His skilled fingers working in and out of your body.

Well, Law never really thought of himself as an honorable man, after all.

☽

You're in the city again.

It was a town they found in the aftermath of a bad battle, and they urgently needed more medicine provisions. And food. Bepo has already passed out twice today because of blood loss- and then his stomach rumbled. His mood swings were a lot harder to handle.

So you were out shopping for food with Ikakku, and Law stayed back with Penguin and Shachi helping him bandage the rest of the crew up.

You went without him, but he trusted you, now. You would stay safe for him. You would come back to him with no more wounds than the ones you left with, because you promised him.

It was still not easy to deal with.

The thought grows heavy in his mind the longer you take to come back. He grows snappy, easily irritated because of defeat, he tells himself. He's strong and capable, so why did they need to run away again? What was he lacking? How could they improve?

What the fuck was taking you so long?

"You can go with them, Captain. We got this covered."

Law tsks, starting a vain attempt to fight his first mate back. "I'm the only doctor on board, dumbass. This is my job."

"It's not like we're in a life or death situation." Penguin jumps in, wrapping a bandaged arm around his best friend. "You already took care of the worst, we can deal with the rest."

"Your irritation is giving us a headache, Captain. Just go." Jean-Bart says from a corner of the room.

Law frowns, clicking his tongue at the insulting giant. “You’re on cleaning duty until you die,” but relunctantly obeys, light chuckles resounding in his ears as he hops down to town.

They were getting a little too chummy with him. He'll hang them upside down when he comes back to his senses.

He walks the steps leading him to town and finds you both a few minutes later, and the sight before him makes his cold blood boil.

There are bags full of food laying at your feet as you talk to a vendor, and he notices just how close the man is to you, holding your arm to spread a herb on top of your wounds.

Was this lousy man trying to fix you up? Who the hell did he think he was, freely touching you like that?

Why were you letting him.

"Captain! We have everything ready, is everyone okay back there?" Ikakku's voice is ringing in his ears, but he can't pay attention to her.

You finally seem to notice him, turning your head from the stranger to smile at him, quickly turning back to the man and telling him something.

Law scoffs with annoyance. Now he can't even hold your attention for longer than a second. What’s so interesting you can’t go back to your own- to his crew?

"You can take these back to the sub, Ikakku, correct?" His eyes fly down to the woman next to him, making sure she won't lie to him. He could room it out if she asked to.

Ikkaku quickly looks at him, you, then back at him, her big eyes twinkling. "Of course I can, Captain. I'll see you both there."

And then, just because she pities you. "They were talking about you, you know."

Law doesn't have time to answer before she scurries off.

He tsks, walking towards you. His crew sure had the balls and ovaries to tease him, he'll give them that.

The man is still grabbing your arm when he gets there, and Law takes his hand out of his pocket to draw the offending hand off you.

"Don't accept medicine from strangers." He says, not looking at you. "Not when I'm not around."

You roll your eyes, apologising to the vendor. "Hi to you too, Captain. And I wasn't alone. Ikakku was here."

But I wasn’t. He bites off the bitter remark. “Who's this?”

“My name's Iida.” The vendor introduces himself, standing as tall as him, yet meekly. "I was just teaching the lady about our medical herbs.”

He looks at him with desinterest. "Wasn’t asking you, vendor-ya."

Your voice wears a warning tone. “Law.”

Looking down at you with a rude glare, he’s unable to keep the jealousy off his tone. “We won't come back to this lowlife town, and you won't remember his name even if we do." Just why were you standing up for this lanky man? “Let's go.”

He’s careful when he grabs your arm to tug you away, but he’s persistant nonetheless. “I'm sorry, Iida. Thank you for the help!”

Law's fuming, and he hates that you know that, even if he tries to hide it on his face. You know him well enough– too damn well, might you.

After a few moments of moodily dragging you across the town, he gives into his burning curiosity. “What were you talking about?”

“I was merely telling him about our grumpy doctor, and how he would like some of the plants there. You didn’t need to be so rude, you know.” You say, sighting afterwards.

What did you just say?

Your words leave him dumbfounded, and he stops in his tracks. “What?”

“He asked about our wounds, and I told him that he didn’t need to worry. That we had a friend who happens to be a grumpy doctor with us. Is something wrong?”

Law feels his stomach go cold.

There is, in fact, something wrong. There’s so many wrong things about you calling him a friend, and a doctor, that he doesn’t know where to start.

Was that it? After all you've been through, all the fights with teeth and nail to make him yours, he's reduced to his cursed profession? A damn friend?

Or were you just hiding him from the vendor in case something could spark between the both of you? Law's cold hands start to sweat at the thought, his heart plummeting against his chest.

If that was the case, why did it hurt so bad?

It irks him, how two stupid words can stab him right in his heart. Friends. You told him you introduced Shachi and Penguin like that to run away from Marines just last week, disguising their Jolly Roger’s with two big coats before escaping.

Was that the way you talked about him, too?

"Earth to Law?" two fingers snap in front of him. "Are you okay?"

Law blinks once, taking the sight of you in front of him. Twice, and he can feel your soft lips on him an hour before you went to town, telling him to take it easy. Promising to come back. Your hand is warm and safe in his, protected. He couldn’t be the only one dealing with these feelings. He couldn’t.

Right now, with your bag in one hand and his hand held tight in the other, he feels a vague sense of premonition.

☽

You were always begging him to believe in you with a hand over your heart, promising things he was too scared of. Truth is, he’s already found something to believe in– his first religion has surprised him at his big age, laying protected in the stubbornness of your heart.

Now comes the scary part: it's time he puts a name to these feelings.

His voice sounds gruff and firm, calling your name. He’s long since dropped his -ya towards you, his careless façade more difficult to hold onto the deeper you carved your name into him, his bones and marrow marked forever. It’s fine. He accepted defeat long ago.

Your own voice sounds distracted when you answer, not raising your sight from the book in your hands. "Yeah, babe?"

“Yes.” He replies smartly, wincing afterwards. He feels awkwardness creeping up his stomach, making him sick. Why was he doing this again?

Your giggle reels him back. Right. Iida-ya, a few nights ago. You calling him a friend. He had to confront his feelings, no matter how much he wants to not do that. He starts, "I’ve been thinking.”

And cuts himself off, frowning. I think about you too much and it’s infuriating, he doesn't say, then recoils at the thought. You lift your gaze to look at him, and it’s all just too much for him.

Bring him an army of a thousand armed men. Make him participate with the world’s slowest, dumbest people in a fucking mathlaton. Take his arm out permanently. None of the these options can be as painful as this.

Resting his face in his hands, Law breathes out in annoyance. "I don't know how to fucking do this."

Silence. There’s worry in your voice, now. “Do what?”

Law scoffs, and not for the first time, he wishes you could just read his mind, if only to get this over with.

He can’t look at you, sitting all innocent on his bed, oblivious to the tangled thoughts in his head.

The old feeling to fight or flight tries to take over him, so he focuses his gaze on a drawing Bepo had hung on his quarters and takes a deep breath. It was the four of them a few years back, looking young and rowdy as ever. Penguin and Shachi had switched hats. Bepo insisted on paying the artist instead of making a run for it.

He exhales. "I’ve been thinking, and I’ve come to the conclusion that being with me is a dangerous decision. Not to mention foolish, and wrong–"

"Not wrong. Not to me." You say with finality, closing the book to face your captain with a frown of your own. “We’ve been through this, Law. Why are you bringing it up again?"

"You’ll know if you let me finish." Law rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore how you didn’t correct dangerous and foolish. "I know what I said. We both know this.” He says your name with a warning. Don’t fight me on this. “Even so, I want..." structure. To be as important to you as you are to me.

What can he say? How can he say that without saying that?

What feels like hours in silence it’s probably around ten seconds, seconds wasted because Law can’t seem to find the right words. He knows he’s making stupid faces the longer he thinks about it, but it’s hard to keep the cringe off his face at this rate. If anyone saw him right now– no.

No, he would’ve killed them. That’s for certain. He would slice them to pieces, mix their parts up and spread their rests all over the New World.

The morbid thought comforts him a little. Breathing a bit easier, still not looking at you, he all but spits. "More. I want us to be more. Do you understand?"

There. He said it. He slowly sits to his full height, ears burning red and a permanent scowl refusing to leave his face–

And he sighs exasperatedly at the confusion in your face. "You don't get it?"

You're not helping, looking at him like he grew teeth on his forehead, gently shaking your head. "I don’t really follow."

That’s... that’s not what he expected.

In an attempt to save face, he scowls. “What do you not follow? What the hell more do you need?”

You sent him a dirty look. "I need you to tell me what you're thinking about, Law. I'm not a mind reader."

You’re trying so damn hard to protect yourself, but what about me?

His heart stutters inside his chest.

Fine. He can do this. There’s nothing to fear, is there? He can protect you. Law can fall asleep each night in the arms of a lover that welcomes him, with his fucked up soul and twisted mind, and he can protect you. He will put a name to what you both have, let you inside his brain instead of expecting you to read him.

That’s easier said than done, though.

“You okay there?”

Your voice brings him back to reality. You’re standing between his knees now— when did that happen?— so close yet not enough to touch, to overwhelm. And he hates the way his stupid heart sinks with your lack of a nickname.

I was merely telling him about our grumpy doctor.

“I’m fine.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tries again. "What I'm trying to say is. I..."

“Yes?”

He stops in his tracks. God, will he be able to say this today? Before he explotes into little pathetic pieces that you could take to back Iida-ya to sell as a haunted herb?

But he’s just distracted by your voice. You sound mischievous yet patient in one little word, like you’re inside a secret with his heart and he’s the only one that hasn’t caught up yet.

Like you know what’s going on, but you’re testing him to see if he can actually go through with it.

Law knows that if he tilts his head a little higher, he'll see you wearing a smile. He can all but feel it beaming over his face, and he didn’t know that was even possible. He almost feels the need to squint his eyes.

That’s it. He needs to say it. He needs to just fucking say it.

He looks constipated for the entirety of ten seconds before he finally locks eyes with you, and awkwardly blurts out, "I love you."

Boom. The three little words that punch him right on the gut. Then, "I want us to be together officially."

You go stiff before him, and his heart is starting to pound painfully hard in his chest. His eager gaze never leaves yours, though, even as he pleads. "Don’t make me repeat myself."

A beat. One, two, three seconds pass. Law’s traitor brain is leading him to believe that you won't answer him at all– until you do.

He can see the moment it clicks.

Your answering smile catches him off guard, wide and beaming so bright he has to squint, or he might go blind. No one’s ever looked at him like that.

You peck him twice before he can react, your shaking hands squishing his face. He’s stunned, red in the face and confused, but you pay it no mind. Not surprisingly.

Then, Law’s ears eat up the sappiest shit you've ever said to him, like a starved man taking his first bite.

“Law, I’m– you idiot, you have me forever.” Tears welling up in your eyes, you swallow hard past the lump in your throat. His eyes uselessly follow the way your throat bobs. “I want more too. In whatever way you’ll have me, for as long as you let me. And I'll have you."

Sweet, carefree and a little breathless, you smile at him like you're telling the truth.

For a second, a frightening instant, the world stumbles beneath his feet. He’s dizzy between your hands, and he’s glad he’s sitting right now.

But his hands fly up to hold yours, tight, like the anchor of his submarine clings onto the wet sand, and his tense heart starts to loosen up with relief. And something akin to solace.

You chuckle wetly. "I love you too."

You have me forever.

It sounded like a promise.

The words finally land on him as he lets you pull his lightheaded head against yours, resting on you. Your hot breaths are mingling together, and if he looks close enough, he thinks he could count each one of your eyelashes.

You cheekily whisper into his open mouth. “Do you understand?”

☽

The weight of your conversation doesn't grasp you yet. You're a stranger to the heaviness your words carry, to the lifelong commitment you signed with both your hearts on the line– but you'll be damned if the small smile he offers you in return isn't undoubtedly worth it.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece imagine #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law fluff #one piece fluff #trafalgar law scenarios #one piece scenarios #he then falls asleep for like 3 hours bc emotions are exhausting man #trafalgar law imagine #law x you #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law headcanons #[ champagne hours ]#[ one piece notes ]#k.writes

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weirwoodking · 3 years

Note

I have a small headcanon that Sansa has already skinchanged into a bird without her knowledge once before. This passage about Marillion in the sky cells in particular:

“When she closed her eyes she could see him in his sky cell, huddled in a corner away from the cold black sky, crouched beneath a fur with his woodharp cradled against his chest.”

What do you think?

Oh, absolutely. I do think that she’s experienced her powers in some way, she just hasn’t thought about them.

George does leave these little subtle hints in the text that point to the Stark kids abilities, the earliest being in chapter one:

Halfway across the bridge, Jon pulled up suddenly.

“What is it, Jon?” their lord father asked.

“Can’t you hear it?”

Bran could hear the wind in the trees, the clatter of their hooves on the ironwood planks, the whimpering of his hungry pup, but Jon was listening to something else.

“There,” Jon said. He swung his horse around and galloped back across the bridge. They watched him dismount where the direwolf lay dead in the snow, watched him kneel. A moment later he was riding back to them, smiling.

“He must have crawled away from the others,” Jon said. (Bran I, AGOT)

While on horseback, and halfway across the bridge, already far away from where a mute direwolf puppy was, Jon was able to “hear” him. Obviously, he didn’t hear Ghost, he sensed him. Already, he was bonded with Ghost, even though this was about a year and half before Jon had his first “true” wolf dream. And furthermore, it takes a while before he’s able to clearly remember these dreams:

The wolf dreams had been growing stronger, and he found himself remembering them even when awake. (Jon I, ADWD)

So, yes, I definitely think that Sansa could already be having skinchanging dreams with a bird/birds. She just might not remember it. Also, she doesn’t have to have been having direct dreams, but moments of using the bird’s senses. Not fully in the animal, just sharing it’s space for a moment.

Unlike the sh*w, where skinchanging is an on/off switch (you’re either inside the animal or not inside the animal), skinchanging in the books is more nuanced. Jon is able to brush his hand up against Ghost and tap into the wolf’s senses, without fully warging him. He can even taste blood in his mouth after Ghost kills, and he can feel the wolf’s hunger. The most notable instance of this “one mind in two bodies simultaneously” thing is with Arya and the Braavos street cat:

That night she dreamed she was a wolf again, but it was different from the other dreams. In this dream she had no pack. She prowled alone, bounding over rooftops and padding silently beside the banks of a canal, stalking shadows through the fog. (Cat of the Canals, AFFC)

The tavern was near empty, and she was able to claim a quiet corner not far from the fire. No sooner had she settled there and crossed her legs than something brushed up against her thigh. "You again?" said the blind girl. She scratched his head behind one ear, and the cat jumped up into her lap and began to purr. Braavos was full of cats, and no place more than Pynto's. The old pirate believed they brought good luck and kept his tavern free of vermin. "You know me, don't you?" she whispered. Cats were not fooled by a mummer's moles. They remembered Cat of the Canals.

[...]

The Lyseni took the table nearest to the fire and spoke quietly over cups of black tar rum, keeping their voices low so no one could overhear. But she was no one and she heard most every word. And for a time it seemed that she could see them too, through the slitted yellow eyes of the tomcat purring in her lap. One was old and one was young and one had lost an ear, but all three had the white-blond hair and smooth fair skin of Lys, where the blood of the old Freehold still ran strong. (The Blind Girl, ADWD)

"It is good to know. This is two. Is there a third?"

"Yes. I know that you're the one who has been hitting me." Her stick flashed out, and cracked against his fingers, sending his own stick clattering to the floor.

The priest winced and snatched his hand back. "And how could a blind girl know that?"

I saw you. "I gave you three. I don't need to give you four." Maybe on the morrow she would tell him about the cat that had followed her home last night from Pynto's, the cat that was hiding in the rafters, looking down on them. Or maybe not. If he could have secrets, so could she. (The Blind Girl, ADWD)

While Arya is not fully outside of her body and in the body of the cat, she’s able to use the cat’s eyes as her own. And she isn’t even aware that she’s doing it, it’s just occurring naturally. I do believe that the same cat she dreams as in AFFC is the tomcat that she sees through in ADWD.

So, yes, I do believe that Sansa could be looking through the eyes of a bird. She’s just not aware of it.

It does seem like the Stark kids are much more powerful than the average skinchangers/wargs, immediately bonding to the wolves without realizing it, and already connecting with other animals. Arya is able to warg Nymeria from an entirely separate continent, which probably isn’t standard behavior, especially not for someone who doesn’t even know what they’re doing and has no training. Even Varamyr, a man who has mastered the control of five animals, recognizes Jon’s power:

The gift was strong in Snow, but the youth was untaught, still fighting his nature when he should have gloried in it. (Prologue, ADWD)

So, the Starks seem to be pretty powerful. And that includes Sansa, as GRRM has confirmed that she is still a skinchanger, meaning that he’s definitely going to have a bond with an animal at some point. It would make sense for him to have already been leaving little hints about it.

A very important component to Sansa’s character, which could be affecting her skinchanging powers, is her memory. The way that Sansa’s mind has coped with her trauma is by suppressing and rewriting certain distressing, scarring, and confusing memories. This is something that all the Stark kids do, in different levels. For example, Bran believes that Rickon intentionally suppresses the memory of Ned being dead:

"Tell Robb I want him to come home," said Rickon. "He can bring his wolf home too, and Mother and Father." Though he knew Lord Eddard was dead, sometimes Rickon forgot... willfully, Bran suspected. (Bran V, ACOK)

Bran himself does this as well:

The dream he'd had... the dream Summer had had... No, I mustn't think about that dream. He had not even told the Reeds, though Meera at least seemed to sense that something was wrong. If he never talked of it maybe he could forget he ever dreamed it, and then it wouldn't have happened and Robb and Grey Wind would still be... (Bran IV, ASOS)

Sansa does this the most out of her siblings, it’s her primary coping mechanism. One example is how remembers (or tries not to remember) Jeyne Poole:

Sansa did not know what had happened to Jeyne, who had disappeared from her rooms afterward, never to be mentioned again. She tried not to think of them too often, yet sometimes the memories came unbidden, and then it was hard to hold back the tears. (Sansa II, ACOK)

She tries to not to think of her, because it’s too traumatic for her to do so.

Another example is how she’s trying to process the situations she’s in at the Eyrie.

I am not your daughter, she thought. I am Sansa Stark, Lord Eddard's daughter and Lady Catelyn's, the blood of Winterfell. She did not say it, though. If not for Petyr Baelish it would have been Sansa who went spinning through a cold blue sky to stony death six hundred feet below, instead of Lysa Arryn. He is so bold. Sansa wished she had his courage. She wanted to crawl back into bed and hide beneath her blanket, to sleep and sleep. She had not slept a whole night through since Lysa Arryn's death. (Sansa I, AFFC)

He is serving me lies as well, Sansa realized. They were comforting lies, though, and she thought them kindly meant. A lie is not so bad if it is kindly meant. If only she believed them...

The things her aunt had said just before she fell still troubled Sansa greatly. "Ravings," Petyr called them. "My wife was mad, you saw that for yourself." And so she had. All I did was build a snow castle, and she meant to push me out the Moon Door. Petyr saved me. He loved my mother well, and...

And her? How could she doubt it? He had saved her.

He saved Alayne, his daughter, a voice within her whispered. But she was Sansa too... and sometimes it seemed to her that the Lord Protector was two people as well. He was Petyr, her protector, warm and funny and gentle... but he was also Littlefinger, the lord she'd known at King's Landing, smiling slyly and stroking his beard as he whispered in Queen Cersei's ear. And Littlefinger was no friend of hers. When Joff had her beaten, the Imp defended her, not Littlefinger. When the mob sought to rape her, the Hound carried her to safety, not Littlefinger. When the Lannisters wed her to Tyrion against her will, Ser Garlan the Gallant gave her comfort, not Littlefinger. Littlefinger never lifted so much as his little finger for her.

Except to get me out. He did that for me. I thought it was Ser Dontos, my poor old drunken Florian, but it was Petyr all the while. Littlefinger was only a mask he had to wear. Only sometimes Sansa found it hard to tell where the man ended and the mask began. Littlefinger and Lord Petyr looked so very much alike. She would have fled them both, perhaps, but there was nowhere for her to go. Winterfell was burned and desolate, Bran and Rickon dead and cold. Robb had been betrayed and murdered at the Twins, along with their lady mother. Tyrion had been put to death for killing Joffrey, and if she ever returned to King's Landing the queen would have her head as well. The aunt she'd hoped would keep her safe had tried to murder her instead. Her uncle Edmure was a captive of the Freys, while her great-uncle the Blackfish was under siege at Riverrun. I have no place but here, Sansa thought miserably, and no true friend but Petyr. (Sansa I, AFFC)

Sansa knows deep down (not even that deep, just down) that Petyr is untrustworthy. She knows he’s fed her lies, but she wants to believe them. She wants to be able to trust him. She wants to feel like she can be safe with him. She wants to be safe. It bothers me a lot whenever people say Sansa is “stupid” for trusting Petyr, or “uncaring” for not thinking often of Jeyne. She isn’t stupid or uncaring, she’s a traumatized thirteen year old whose brain is trying to cope with what she’s gone through and what she’s currently going through.

So, she has built a wall. And behind that wall are the memories of Lysa’s death, the truth about Jon Arryn’s murder, and Jeyne Poole. I think it would make sense if skinchanging, something that involves the mind, is also something that she’s subconsciously repressing. I talked about this sometime a while ago, but I believe that a big moment for Sansa in TWOW is going to be her confronting her memories. And most significantly, confronting Baelish about what happened to Jeyne Poole and exposing the truth of Jon Arryn and Lysa’s deaths. Thus, defeating Littlefinger, the mockingbird.

It would make sense if this coincided with her skinchanging abilities truly awakening. As her mind opens, her powers become stronger. I’m pretty deadset on Sansa’s bird being a falcon, not just for the House Arryn connection and because she’s gone hawking with a falcon before, but also because of the symbolism. Falcons symbolize “vision, freedom, and victory. Hence, it also connotes salvation to those who are in bondage whether moral, emotional, or spiritual”. I think that Sansa bonding with a falcon and “flying free” would be perfect for the conclusion of her caged bird arc.

Sorry, this got really long, it just kind of turned into all my thoughts about how skinchanger-Sansa might come to be in TWOW. I think it’s going to be an important part of her story, as you don’t just give four of your POV characters the ability to control animals with their minds and not have that matter. (And, it’s already an important part of Jon, Arya, and Bran’s stories, so it most likely will be for Sansa, too.)

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #sansa stark #twow #the winds of winter #twow speculation #asoiaf speculation #long post #ask #jeynearrynofthevale

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l4verq · 3 years

Text

fight back | b.b

bucky barnes x enhanced!reader

in which bucky won’t lay a hand on you no matter what :(

tags : a little brawl, fluff cause icanthelpmyself, mentions of blood, john walker (idk if we're supposed to like him now ??) bucky is a cat lady okk

fic : one shot

a/n : inspired by that scene in the final ep of tfatws when karli is screaming at sam to fight back lol😳

|| gif by @unearthlydust ||

one world, one people.

you repeat it in your head one more time, when he comes into view, vibranium gleaming onyx with loops of gold.

you know that he knows you’re here, back to the wall a few feet away, peeking at him.

he doesn’t know that you let him know.

doesn’t know that you laid out a trap and just like the foolish mouse, he walked right into the lion’s den.

although you’re not sure who the fool actually is, when you meet his eyes, knees almost buckling at the sight just cause of how long it’s been without them.

“y/n.” he breathes out, almost in disbelief.

it’s been fourteen months since he woke up to an empty bed and a handwritten goodbye letter folded in a clean white envelope, tucked under a pillow still marked by the soft indentation of your head.

fourteen months since you took off in the dead of night, pulling your- his hood over your head, the cold wind nipping at your skin, almost like it was punishing you.

maybe, it saw what you did.

oh, but fred definitely saw what you did, that damn cat always followed you two around even though it’s owner was the blonde next door. her name wasn’t even fred, bucky came up with it after the third time it snuck into the apartment.

he swore he hated it but always seemed to have a treat lying around in case it did come.

and it did, a lot. neglected by it’s owner, it chose to seek comfort in the couple next door, and sometimes a meal or two.

“sorry, no treat today bub.”

fred scowled - honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if an actual human was living in it - mewling as it came up to you for the usual chin rubs and cooes.

you sighed, caving into it’s antics, squatting to pet it.

cradling it’s head into your palm, she was purring, a very uncommon sight. fred doesn’t purr, she scratches and hisses at anything and everything that moves.

“you’re particularly nice today.” you commented, getting up. it mewled even louder this time but you turned on your heels and headed for the stairs.

you were already late.

your legs picked up pace quickly, easily crossing multiple blocks over in a few long strides owing to the blue serum coursing through your veins.

though your mind remained stationary, fixated on a single face, how it’d crumble at the sight of the letter, how he’d probably end up hating you.

“took you long enough.”

her auburn locks were tied into a loose braid that curved around her neck, the tip sat just below her collarbone, a piss poor job held together by a thin maroon colored band.

it was quintessentially her, the lack of utter patience to spend two minutes looping three knots of hair one over the other.

you jogged over to the other side of the black suv, noticing a stark white rectangle where a liscence plate should be.

“he’s knocked out cold,” you asked as soon as you grabbed the door handle open, “how?”

lazropthalein.

it came in the mail in a brown package, no return address. bucky wasn’t home, he had a scheduled therapy session down the block.

just a pinch is enough.

the text from the unknown number read.

it had no odour, a clean, white colour to it that blended in seamlessly with the flour.

“you baked without me?” bucky gasped, dramatically, hand covering his gaping mouth. his other hand carried two plastic bags, filled to the brim, a purple razor was poking out the top.

he even had to drop the poor bags on the floor, just to emphasize the utter shock he felt.

“i got bored.” you giggled, wiping the countertop with a wet cloth, remnants of flour on the sleek marble turning goopy under it.

“traitor.”

“it’s just cupcakes.”

“still a cake.”

you sighed, “you’re a five year old.”

he huffed, trudging towards the living room, shoulders hunched to really hone in on just how devastating this was for him.

“don’t i get a hug?” you held your arms out, making grabby hands, following him.

apparently, the devastation was to the point where he had to bring out the big guns, the sad baby blues.

the act lasted for another minute? at best. hours later, he was happily munching away.

“i know why it tastes so good.” he moaned, smacking his lips.

your smile faltered a little, did he kn- no, there’s no way he could have known. you burned that little plastic bag as soon as you dumped a pinch in.

“yea?”

he grinned, popping the last bit left in “it was made with your love.”

“how did it work?” your voice rose several octaves higher, amplified further by the cool, silent night.

drugs and sedatives don’t work on supersoldiers yet a certain blue eyed one was back home, unmoving even if you screamed right into his ears.

“dr wilfred, he invented it. the power broker wanted something to balance out our,” she flared her hands at both of you, “super-soldierness, so that we don’t have an upper hand when all’s said and done.”

would the either of you even be alive when all was said and done?

“look, i know you didn’t want to do this but james, he won’t understand. he’s not one o-..”

“yea, can we jus- let’s just get out of here.” you get in beside her, whipping the seatbelt over your torso.

the car was stuffy, felt like a choke around your neck that only seemed to tighten more and more.

“if we go now, there’s no coming back.” she glances at you, hand curled over the gearstick ready to position it in place.

she was giving you an out, one last chance. karli was a lot of things and having a heart inside that cold, bitchy exterior was one.

“i know.”

you sunk deeper into your seat, the hoodie had a faint smell of burnt toast and that cologne which was on sale, almost half off if you cut out the taxes.

it smelled like him, too much like him.

until it didn’t after a few days. but you still slept with it, just outright refusing to wash it despite karli’s snarky remarks about hygiene.

hygiene could go fuck herself, for all you know.

compared to the motels and basements you guys shifted around in, that hoodie was a doctor’s scrubs.

when the moon hung low on the black sky, you tried not to think about him too much. the silence didn’t help, you needed something to drown out your thoughts. that’s when the ‘socialising’ with the other flag smashers started. they were nice.

nice cause you were the leader’s little sister. but also a huge fucking liability because of a certain supersoldier hot on their heels in search of you, ruining every goddamn plan so their niceness was.. limited.

karli was a natural when it came to it, all of it. the talking, rallying of supporters - fuck, she just had a way with words. she could make you believe she hung up the stars in the sky.

probably how she convinced you that holding a room chock full of council members hostage right smack in the middle of nyc was a good idea.

the only idea, more precisely.

you guys had the upper hand, more than a handful supersoldiers at your disposal, capable of taking down the entire military force if you so pleased.

the only playing card they had was one supersoldier, who was better off distracted, kept off the field.

so who better to send to do the deed than the love of his life.

“fred had a baby. multiple babies, spawn of the devil if you ask me. always running around, thrashing the place up.” he takes small steps towards you, slow and calculated, as if a lion stalking around a prey.

“you shouldn’t be here.” you lie through your teeth, a tiny white compared to the ones that’ve rolled off your tongue before.

“i think the neighbours call me a cat lady now,” his eyes shift around and he leans in to whisper, “they haven’t even seen my knitting skills yet.”

“stop.” you think you said it or much rather whispered it, your voice was failing you. he’s getting close, too close for your liking so why aren’t you backing away from him?

“fred misses you, you know. she wonders where you went.” he smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

the hairs on your neck shoot up, a slight twitch of your brow. the way bucky’s ear perk up, you realise it’s not just you and him here anymore.

someone else has arrived.

“i’ve got it handled, john.” bucky turns around, plants him directly infront of you, blocking john’s view of you.

sure enough, it’s john limping in, a nasty gash across his chest.

your blood runs cold because this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

john isn’t supposed to be here, he’s supposed to be fighting.. oh god. you notice the various splatters of blood on his cowl, on his boot, on his shield.

it’s too much blood from a guy who’s barely bleeding.

“really? i was thinking you should do more than just talk.” he spits on the ground and wipes his mouth.

you notice, the spit’s all blood too.

“i’m giving you a chance to walk away, right now.”

john snorts, leaning sideways to get a view of you, neck craned out.

“and leave this prize all to yourself?” he grins, “i’d be an idiot.”

“you have a death wish then.” you lift your chin a little higher, praying your quickening heartbeat doesn’t give away your calm exterior.

john whistles, grimacing as he straightens, “so, she does talk.”

you scowl, crossing your arms.

he’s in bad shape. he has no chance, not that he ever did even in his best shape. he knows that too yet he’s still here. that sends a chill up your spine.

“go, i got this.” bucky tips his head, glancing at you.

“i don’t need you to save me.” you hiss at him, which comes out a little harsher than you intended. an apology dies in your throat as he flinches just the slightest.

“trouble in paradise?” john’s barely finished saying it before he’s reached behind his back and swinging the vibranium

you hear it before you see it stopped mid air by a gloved hand. then you charge.

it’s all a hazy mix of blue and red until your fist connects with his jaw, sound of something breaking ringing in your ear.

something pulls your waist back, a grip far too strong to be just flesh.

“go, i’ll ta-..” bucky’s barely said anything before an upward cut from john connects to his neck, violent coughs ensuing.

you grip john’s arm before he’s even retracted it back, jump up his back, settling around his neck and twist until you hear a crack and a bloodcurling scream following suit.

he whips his head back right into your stomach, seizes that moment when the wind knocks out of you to pull you by your hair off him.

“i told you to go.” bucky growls, kicking john right in the shin that makes him kneel and you almost fall off but you keep your fingers tightly looped around john’s hair, pulling as hard you can.

but he’s relentless.

your head hits something hard and you realise you’re on the ground now, legs loosely around john’s shoulders, him also on the ground.

it’s like the both of you realise at the same time but you’re quicker. your legs tighten around his neck, against the spot where a thick neck muscle throbs. he claws desperately around, straining for oxygen

soon, his hands lull down, the dull thud on the ground confirming his unconsciousness.

“are you hurt?” bucky’s hovering over you, seemingly unfazed by john’s neck in a chokehold by your legs right now.

you reject his hand he extends and push yourself off the gravelly concrete on to your feet.

“this was a mistake.” you trail off, saying it more to your own self.

you weren’t the lion, you were the stupid fox who thought it was.

stupid enough to believe you were over bucky and that everything wouldn’t come rushing back as soon as you laid eyes on him.

he whips you around by your hand and before you know it, he’s already caught your other fist heading for his sternum. you barely feel the grip, it’s soft, just so incredibly soft and fits so right.

you hate it.

rage bubbles inside you, mostly at yourself. partly at him because he’s not screaming at you or slamming you against the wall or jus- anything.

you wrench your hand away, land a swing which he does nothing to block. his grip on your other hand loosens and he still does nothing when another hit to the jaw leaves him staggering,

instead, he looks at you softly as if resigning himself to your anger, to let it simmer off.

“fight back!” you scream, outstretched palms pushing him back.

he stumbles a few steps back, hands reaching out to yours resting on his chest, fingers intertwining yours tightly.

“stop.” it’s a soft plead, tears spiking the corners of his eyes.

“hit me!” you’re practically begging at this point, thrashing your arms around.

his hands grapple at your shoulders, bringing you to his chest, “it’s okay.”

he smells so sweet, just so sweet that you almost believe him.

“i drugged you and i left you and i-,” you inhale sharply, “i killed so many people, bucky.”

the last fourteen months had escalated quickly from doing what’s right to doing what’s needed, lines blurred between moral ethics and survival.

“it’s okay.” he repeats, hand patting your hair, gentle and soothing. your body betrays you, sinking into his touch, his warmth.

“you should hate me.” you whimper.

you wouldn’t blame him if he did. you doubt he could hate you more than you already did yourself.

he pulls back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “i couldn’t if i tried.”

god, why does he have to be so.. bucky?

frustated, you spit out, “this? this was a distraction to separate you and sam.”

you don’t say it but it’s understood, understood that you wouldn’t have met him if not for it.

the inner corners of his brows angle up slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “i know.”

your breath hitches, if he knows then wh-

“then, why..?”

you finally look up at him, vision blurry because of the stupid tears pooling at your eyes.

his thumb wipes away a tear dribbling down your cheek, the coldness of the metal a clear contrast to the warm moisture, “you know why.”

a/n : this one’s been sitting pretty, collecting cobwebs in my drafts so thought i’d take it out lol, also haven’t been posting fics in a whileeee cause im dumb and i’ve been working on multiple things all at once lol yea this is me rambling and also i just wanna say that i. love. folklore. sm. that whole album has me crying and sad and just :((

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fic #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #fatws bucky #fatws #flag smashers #marvel #mcu

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 3 years

Note

Hello! Thanks in advance. Do you have an recs for long sterek fics with an alive hale family?

AND

kevaaronday said:Hey, I hope youre well! Do you know any fics like "Indelible Marks" that has big alive hale family, idiots in love, werewolf reveals ect? I've tried looking for something with a similar vibe and haven't come up with anything

Get ready for lots of reading.

Didn't See That Coming by knittersrevolt

(43/43 I 83,838 I Explicit)

Stiles leaves Beacon Hills in the dust after he catches his husband cheating on him.

He finds his way to New York where he starts working for the Hale House Nursery, accidentally adopts a werewolf baby (through no fault of his own thank-you-very-much), and somehow starts training to be an Exorcist Emissary. So, in general, life was going good.

Then he hears that demons have found their way into his hometown. Can he face his inner demons and go back to save the day?

No Homo by orphan_account

(12/12 I 84,092 I Explicit)

Stiles' sophomore year starts something like this: 3 FourLokos + 1 peer-pressuring cat - 1 best bro to end all best bros = 1 Craigslist ad headline that reads "str8 dude - m4m - strictly platonic". Derek is the fool who replies

Puzzle Pieces by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(3/3 I 89,402 I Mature)

“Okay.” Stiles glanced at his phone, wincing at the battery being close to ten percent. It was probably time to call Scott. Turning off the flashlight, mostly to save battery and kind of freaking out over how dark it was—though the half-moon reflecting off the snow helped a bit—he opened his contacts with shaking hands and scrolled through to Scott’s name. Once he hit it, he put the phone to his ear, looking around, and froze.

The phone rang in his ear, but his eyes were locked on something big and moving through the trees.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

If that was a fucking bear, Stiles was fucked!

The line kept ringing and ringing, but Scott didn’t answer. Eventually his voicemail picked up and Stiles very slowly lowered the phone and hung up without looking, eyes still on the dark shape in the trees. He glanced down for only a second to turn on the flashlight function again, then lifted it ever so slowly upwards, and felt his breath freeze in his lungs.

It was a wolf.

It was a motherfucking wolf.

Three Marks by sanam

(1/1 I 113,736 I Mature)

"And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off— And suddenly it was done. Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt."

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

Divided We Stand by KouriArashi

(29/29 I 156,742 I Mature)

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of....

At least the Road to Hell is paved, I'm not good with Stairways by lady emebalia (emebalia)

(80/80 I 170,037 I Explicit)

When Derek signs up on a BDSM dating site, he expects things to be straight forward. Turns out the road ahead has more unexpected turns than he thought. But at least Stiles comes well equipped for twists and turns.

I Hunt For You With Bloody Feet by CharWright5

(26/26 I 200,462 I Explicit)

“Mates don't always mean happy ever after.”

When twenty-year-old born omega werewolf Stiles Stilinski received that cryptic email from his twin brother—who'd been missing for two years exactly—in a language the two of them had made up, his drive to find Stuart is doubled. The search leads him to Oak Creek, the most secured and heavily fortified city in all of California, where he finds that not only is his brother dead, but also the literal alpha of his Dreams in Derek Hale—who just happens to be his twin's Mate and the main suspect in Stiles' eyes. Despite an agreement to fight mutual feelings, the two are still drawn to each other as they try to solve the case themselves, uncovering a plot that goes deeper than the murder of just one wolf.

Indelible Marks by billtheradish

(87/87 I 275,695 I Mature)

The house never burned. The pack is strong. Derek will never need to be the alpha, and his sister is a troll. (Actually, most of his family is like that.)

Derek is an apprentice tattoo artist, and Stiles isn't old enough to get ink of his own yet. But that doesn't stop him from being interesting...

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #no hale fire #college au #anon #Anonymous

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Note

Can I request a dark king Steve and inexperienced princess please? Thank you❤❤

First of all, I’m so sorry it took me so much time to finish this request. However, I’m very grateful to you for it because it made me remember my favorite mini-series Gormenghast 😌💖 Hope you’re going to enjoy this!

Boy in the castle

Pairing: king!Steve Rogers x princess!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, death of minor characters, forced marriage, allusion to non-con.

Words: 2430.

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When coup d'etat had happened - for the first time in centuries - your old nanny almost had a heart attack, locking you two in your chamber high up in the tower and barricading the window. The bastard boy would kill you, she kept repeating over and over until your head hurt. He is wicked as the Devil himself, she said, holding a heavy fireplace poker in her old shaky hands as a weapon. He will stab you in the back as he did to your royal father or poison you like he poisoned the Queen.

That time you thought it would be much easier to push you throw the window and make you fall from the tower instead. Why bother with a knife or a poison? But you didn’t voice over your thoughts to your old nanny, knowing well her old heart wasn’t strong enough for this conversation. Strangely, you felt nothing hearing of the death of your parents. From your books you knew people were ought to mourn their families, but sadness had never come to you, anyway. Could it be because you only saw the King and Queen several times a year since you had been three years old? Maybe so.

Nevertheless, your nanny kept talking and talking about the dangers waiting for you outside of your room: the new King would murder anyone who posed a threat to him, and he had most likely already killed your younger brother, a true heir to the throne. You shrugged your shoulders at her words in return - you saw the boy as much as you did your parents. Despite being both a princess and King’s and Queen’s firstborn, most of the time you were confined to your chamber up in the tower where the only one serving you was your old nanny, a woman who had been taking care of you since the time you were born. You only encountered other people on special occasions like your honored brother’s birthday or the first day of a new year when you were allowed to leave your chamber.

You couldn’t feel sorry for those the new King had killed - the one who had never felt compassion from others barely knew what it meant to care about another human being. Of course, you loved your nanny, that foolish old woman who still slapped your back hard if you didn’t sit straight in your chair while reading, but you had long found peace with the thought that one day she would die, too, leaving you all alone. You weren’t scared of that. You had always been alone, locked away and forgotten even by the faithful servants of the King.

Maybe that was why you weren’t worried about being killed by the bastard boy who came to power. Being backstabbed certainly wasn’t pleasant, but it was a quick death, maybe even an easy one: in some books you read people were skinned alive or burnt at the stake, and you imagined it to be much more painful.

Silly girl, your nanny had told you then, weakened by the lack of food - it was the second day of your imprisonment after coup d'etat. The new King could do so much worse things to you, the only woman belonging to the old royal dynasty.

At the end of the third day when you were delirious from lack of water, the guards had broken down the heavy wooden door of your chamber, and a shy little maid got in, carrying a large tray of food. The new King had probably picked the poison, you thought then when the girl poured water right into your mouth and it run on your dry, parched lips. moistening your skin and hair. She fed you some chicken soup while the guards forced the food down your nanny’s throat. Oddly, neither her no you died that day.

What could the bastard boy possibly want from you, your nanny asked over and over again, passing from one corner of your chamber to the other while you cleaned yourself in a metal basin filled with cold water. Wasn’t he supposed to kill you like all other members of the royal family? You thought so, too, but didn’t speak out loud to the old woman, knowing of her poor nerves.

When several man dressed as court attendants came to your chamber in a week, they announced your marriage to the new King, and a few maids assigned to you took your screaming and cursing old nanny away, assuring you no one would harm her. You, on the other hand, were brought to the castle, an army of maids following you to what they said was your new chamber, a large room with several windows and walls decorated with peculiar floral paintings. It was beautiful, but you felt you missed that small room high up in the tower with no one but your old foolish nanny by your side.

The new King was fearsome yet fair to the ones under his control, the maids told you, all eager to speak to you as you were left alone by the guards. He was a kitchen boy once, they said, a bastard son of some lady’s maid who left him right after giving birth, afraid to be punished by her mistress. Weak and ugly with his body like a twig, the boy was smart enough to rise in his ranks over years, becoming the servant of the court magician - you saw him once or twice on your brother’s birthday celebrations, you thought. Weaving his net around all right people of the royal court for years, in the end Steven Rogers overthrew the old King, the man who cared about no one but himself, and the Queen who was more worried about her cats rather than her people dying of hunger.

The new King was a good man, all of them told you once they bathed and clothed you, combed your wild hair and put some flower oil behind your ears and on your wrists. It was good he decided to marry you, the one forgotten even by your people.

Be nice to him, they warned you before escorting you to his chambers, be gentle and choose your words right when speaking to him, and then you’ll be safe and sound. The new King wasn’t a bad man, oh no, he just suffered so much inside the castle walls.

When you entered his chambers, the ones belonging to your father before, you saw so much light coming from open windows it made you hold you breath for a second. You had only been here once - on the day when your brother, the successor to the throne, was born - yet you still remembered how dark and gloomy was the room lit by dozens of candles smelling like pig fat. It was so odd to see the same room that looked so different now.

The man standing up from a heavy mahogany desk turned towards you, and you saw his handsome face: his eyes were of dark blue color like the twilight sky; his skin pale but cheeks a bit rosy as if he had just returned from outside; when you saw his full lips, you thought they were too sensual for a man, though not that you knew much about men, anyway. Truly, the new King looked like he belonged here - maybe even more than your father, old as ancient skies, with his back hunched and crooked. He wasn’t dressed in a heavy dark mantle of your father but in an embroidered and slashed doublet, ankle-length breeches fastened with points, a sword of your father hanging by the man’s side. Oh, he looked so much more like an Ancient King than your father ever did.

“People said you are ugly.” You said, watching his face with curiosity and tilting your head to the side - your old nanny hated this habit of yours. “But I don’t think it is true.”

“I have been ugly.”

He didn’t speak loudly, yet you heard his low voice perfectly clear in the silence of this huge chamber, his expression calm but eyes unsettling.

“But one day I have drunk the potion the court magician prepared for your father, Your Highness.”

Funny, you thought, coming a little closer - you struggled to walk in this heavy crimson dress with many layers, the neckline adorned with precious stones generously. It was probably one of your mother’s dresses she never wore.

Watching his dark blonde hair shining in the sunlight, suddenly you remembered something, something you had long forgotten, and you stopped, watching the blue eyes that now seemed familiar. A little boy with his body so feeble he could get swept away by the wind. No, no, he couldn’t be. It was impossible.

“You’re the boy who fell off the Moon.” You stared at him with your eyes wide, your lips slightly open as you saw the little guy whose name you didn’t remember - the one who had fell on your balcony when you lived in the castle for a couple of months while your chamber in the tower was being repaired.

He was a funny boy, skinny as a rail with his hands so white you thought he had always been cold. When he turned up on your balcony, you had been reading and almost screamed at the loud sound of him falling. Gladly, you didn’t make a sound - the guards were everywhere in the castle, and they’d surely take him.

You remembered the boy saying he was a moon knight, showing you how he handled the invisible sword he carried and, once you two sat in front of the fireplace, he told you many stories of all places he visited and things he saw. Gladly, he disappeared before your nanny showed up, carrying a tray of food in her shaky hands, but the boy came the next day, and then the day after that, and after that one, too. He kept coming for seven more days before the reparation of your chamber had been completed, and you moved back. Sadly, he couldn’t get to the Tower, saying the angle wasn’t right to jump off the Moon.

“Yes, Your Highness. I am the boy you let into your room years ago.”

A part of you refused to believe him - the new King is too big and handsome to be the little boy whose arms were so skinny you thought you could see his bones through the skin. Besides, for many years you kept thinking the Moon knight was just a dream you saw. But what if the new King told you the truth? What if it was him?

“I remember standing on one knee in front of you and pretending giving you an invisible ring as something to remember me by when I’d return to the Moon.” His face lightened up for a couple of seconds, and suddenly you saw the familiar twinkley eyes and that shy little smile when the new King curled his lips. “Isn’t it peculiar I have been thinking about those days with you when the Royal Chef whipped me till my back bled? When I was strangling him, all I thought was the day when I see you again, Your Highness.”

Uneasiness washed over you once you heard the man talking. Living alone in the tower, you knew very little of a life in the castle, but you knew murdering someone was wrong.

“Why did he whip you?” You asked, furrowing your brows when the man in front of you chuckled. “You killed him for that, right?”

“I killed him because he was the most disgusting son for a bitch you’d ever met, dear princess.”

You winced at his harsh words: your old nanny had never even once sworn in your presence except the day when the new King killed your father, but, of course, the man in fancy clothes knew nothing of etiquette and good manners.

“I’ve killed the court magician, too.” The new King continued, marching to you like one of the guards you saw once in a while, and you felt the urge to retreat to your room immediately. “I’ve killed much more people, your father and mother, too, and I don’t regret it even the slightest bit.”

You made a step back, looking at his face growing darker once he sensed your fear, and you were on the verge of running away the very next moment, thinking he was going to murder you, too.

“Are you scared now, princess? Do you know what I’ve done to get so far? Do you understand who owns the castle, your tower, even you, Your Highness?” With each question he was getting closer and closer until you showed him your back and sprinted towards the heavy doors beside you, clenching your dress and lifting it up to move faster. “Do you know what I’ll do to you, darling?”

You didn’t, and you had no desire to figure it out, finally reaching the door when the man beside you pushed your body into the wood with his, his hands on the door, preventing you from leaving.

“I’ve lied and cheated; I’ve drank the potion that broke every bone in my body and healed them back; I’ve killed your father and all those who stood in my way.” His words turned into a low, guttural growl as he pressed your body into the wood. “I’ve did everything to own this goddamn castle that made me feel so unhappy, so miserable and pathetic. I loathe this place. I loathe you. God, I loathe you so much.”

He was going to kill you. Dear Lord, you should have listened to your old nanny.

“You made my feel like I was someone. It was because of you I couldn’t stay just a kitchen boy. I wanted to have what you nobles had. I wanted to control all the ones who looked down on me.” He nuzzled into your hair, and you felt his firm touch on your shoulders. “God, I wanted to have you, but, unless I had the castle, I couldn’t get to you, princess. Do you know what I’ve done to get here? Do you have the slightest idea, darling?”

“Please, don’t.” You whispered quietly, afraid to raise your voice as you felt his angry breath on your skin.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, for I’m too far gone.” Moving your dress up in haste, the new King put his knee in between your legs, ignoring your whimper. “Whatever you have, I’ll take.”

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Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @lovelydarkdaydream @ninefuckingoneone @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks

#yandere #captain america #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #requests #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers

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xhanisai · 3 years

Text

Confront the boundary line of good and evil in my heart

AO3 / FFN

Summary:

It wasn't her fault! No way whatsoever! But still... Still... 'It really does hurt so bad...so much, I can't take it!'

~(x)~ . . . Tick. Tock. "I'm so sorry Chat Noir! I didn't mean to- I just- I just completely broke down and she was right there and I needed someone-" "It's okay, Bug. I understand, don't apologise," Tick. Tock. "It's not okay at all! You've wanted to know for so long, so patiently and I have always said no- and then look at me now! A hypocrite! This is probably a huge sucker-punch for you and I hate that I've always kept on hurting you back then but now, this takes the cake-" "N-No, I'm fine, honest...really. What matters is your happiness and wellbeing-" "But what about you!?" "..." Tick- "...Kid, talk to me, please. The way you're staring out into space is scaring me." The subdued, raspy voice belonging to the ancient being of destruction went unheard. The boy in question continued to observe the empty space in front, sitting on top of his bed with his knees tucked under his chin and his arms folded in front, hiding the lower half of his face. If one were to enter the room, they would instantly freeze from the glower of the boy's fiery emerald greens that were begging to pool with unshed tears and the aura of his stone-cold demeanour. From the waft of his internal turmoil, even a blind person would be able to pick up that he was currently the host of bad luck. "...Adrien...I want to help, I want to understand, so talk to me!" Once again, Plagg was left ignored, leaving him no choice but to float back down to his pillow and direct his pleading kitten eyes at the blonde, his tiny heart shattered from the state of his chosen. Alas, even he was helpless, his feline ears and whiskers drooping with sorrow. 'But you won't understand. You never did and you never will. No one will ever understand.' Adrien didn't even flinch, didn't even bat an eye. He was a statue of apathy and aloofness; though deep down inside, he was a maelstrom of agonising pain. Oh, so much pain. It was excruciating. He wanted to suit up and claw through the rooves of Paris whilst screaming in anguish. He wanted to find every billboard that had his face on it and tear through it all like paper. He wanted to shred and pulverise his useless, traitorous heart along with its despicable feelings and emotions. But most importantly, he wanted to rip the magical ring off his finger and throw it into La Seine with all his might and then cry for the rest of eternity. And he hates that he feels that way. Absolutely, ridiculously, hates that he feels betrayed. Self-loathing and disgust have taken over his body like a puppet and rendered him completely useless, like a toy forgotten at the bottom of the box, never to see the light of day ever again. The feeling of uselessness and pure shame replaced the blood running through his veins and numbed him to the point where he was equivalent to a powerless machine. He felt his throbbing heart fall deeper and deeper into the pit of his stomach. It wasn't her fault! No way whatsoever! But still... Still... 'It really does hurt so bad...so much, I can't take it!' The younger, softer, naive part of himself which was usually tucked away within the dark, hidden crevices of his heart, screamed as if the rest of humanity's lives depended on it. It was taking Adrien everything to keep him out. 'Is it too much to ask for only one constant in my life? Is it too much to ask for one thing to remain the same? Is it too much for anyone to stop keeping me at arm's length!?' . It is. . It is. . Deep down inside, below the platinum chains and iron bars of solid, concrete denial, he always knew that Ladybug never considered him as close as he did with her. And why should she? Just because he performed an act of common, proper human decency and helped an old man get his walking stick back? Just because he was gifted with the power to destroy anything he touches in order to save the day? Just because he knew how to fight possessed villains alongside her? Just because he's in love with her? . "I'm literally the worst." Adrien finally spoke out loud ever since he returned from...that patrol many hours ago. Despite his words, his soul couldn't help but weep and pray that it was all one huge, cruel nightmare. A twisted, sick joke that whatever deities out there have concocted up just for him. Anything! Yet, this was his reality. "I disagree." The boy snapped his gaze towards the kwami, his brows furrowing for elaboration on the little God's part. "I may not be human but I do have feelings and I can empathise. I've existed from the beginning of time and I've witnessed many, many things in my lifetime." Plagg then floated towards him, settling on Adrien's arm so that he was face to face. "You're not in the wrong here, kid. It's okay to feel like this-" "No, it's not!" Adrien's sudden outburst had the kwami shoot away in surprise, the boy instantly turning baffled at his own harsh reaction and then visibly paling even further. He caught sight of his own reflection on a nearby mirror, cringing at the monstrous mess that looked back. With a frustrated sigh, he leapt off the bed, solemnly treading towards his windows, fingers digging into his upper arms as if he was hugging himself. . The luminous moon that shone through the night sky, what was once a beacon of freedom in the past, never looked so unappealing to the distraught hero. His usually glittering eyes were vacant, devoid of any joy and hope whilst his lips were etched in a permanent frown. How many fake smiles and empty words of wisdom did he force out in front of his Lady earlier on? He's lost count. And how many more times will he have to keep doing that, knowing that there will always be another person out that there that Ladybug trusts more than she'll ever trust him? . "I stand by with what I said," Plagg quipped once more, his host quietly surprised with how the little God managed to get so close without him realising. "The two of you have been thrust into a messy situation with very little guidance and a whole bunch of rules which only complicated it further." He then directed his eyes from the moon to the boy. "Yes, I agree that Ladybug's decision in confiding with someone about her identity was a good idea, but as a result of that, it's brought you so much pain. You are not the worst and it's okay to cry it out. It's okay to tell her how you really feel." He placed one of his tiny hands on Adrien's cheek, ears and whiskers still weighed with melancholy as the boy allowed his eyes to prick with tears. One drop. Two drops. Three drops. Four. "It shouldn't hurt- I...I shouldn't be so selfish! Even if she never told me, I was able to tell that she wasn't able to handle her civilian life any longer, especially after becoming the Guardian- I'm supposed to protect her and be by her side! Not throw a tantrum like a three-year-old just because I'm not the one she decided to tell about her secret identity! And then adding my own stupid feelings and insecurities to her plate? I'll be a burden!" The dam was broken and the overwhelming feelings within Adrien cascaded like a tsunami. "You have plenty on your plate as well-" "But I'm used to it, she isn't. I was born and raised to deal with these kinds of things anyway so it's a no brainer for me to shut up and accept it all with a smile-" He paused abruptly, a wet gasp escaping his throat as he leaned against the glass for support when even more realisation sunk in. 'I have been dealing with so many responsibilities ever since I was born...and that puts us on the same boat...so why couldn't she have confided with me then?' Adrien dropped to his knees, fingernails scraping against his scalp as he tried to fight back against those negative thoughts and questions. 'Why am I never good enough? Not for Maman, not for Père and now...not for Ladybug...?' 'Why am I even here then?'

"Adrien...you don't need to put a mask on when you're with me. Cry it all out. I'm not gonna sit by and watch you destroy yourself from inside out because of your inability to address your true feelings. I'm right here, I'll even destroy all the wretched butterflies that dare to come by- so please, let it all out," "I can't! If I do, I'll never be able to go back and nothing will be the same again-" "And if you don't, then things will change for the worse and trust me, kid, that is the last thing you need." Finally, Plagg's words unravelled the obstacles that slowed down the flood and Adrien couldn't help but give in. His body shook and a whole new fresh wave of tears pooled down his eyes, teeth biting down on his lip to prevent the sobs from bursting out. . "...It hurts Plagg...it hurts so much! I love her...and I trust her so much but it hurts! I know she trusts me on a level and I know that multiple times she's mentioned that I'm irreplaceable but dammit! Why does it all feel like a lie!? She did the right thing in telling her civilian best friend, she finally has someone to look after herself- but why does it feel so wrong? Why is my heart in so much pain? Why can't I stop crying? If Ladybug won't lean on me, then what am I here for? And if I can't lean on Ladybug...who...who do I have?" . "...I may not be much and I may talk about nothing but cheese...but you'll always have me, kid," "I want to believe you, I want to so badly, Plagg...but I can't. I feel so alone...I've always been alone... ...And I'll always be alone..." . . . A couple of hours ago, just shy under midnight on a lone, hidden rooftop, if a curious civilian looked up, they would have seen Ladybug and Chat Noir locked in an embrace. However, what they would have noticed first was the absolutely broken, heartwrenching expression Noir wore... ...As if his entire world has fallen apart... . . . ~(x)~ A/N: Just wondering if I should make a sequel and give these two poor cats a happy ending~

#my writing #my fanfic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #ml fanfic #ml spoilers #takes place after gang of secrets #basically a possibility of what could happen when chat finds out that ladybug told her identity to someone else #super angsty #adrien agreste #chat noir #plagg #ladybug

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seonghwashibber · 3 years

Text

Proving to love

Pairing: Tattoo Artist! Single Dad! Yeosang x Teacher Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Note: This story is written for enjoyment for the audience of this blog. I do not support abuse in any way or shape. Please do not think I believe this is okay. I was thinking, if this became good, If you guys would let me know if you wanted more.

Tag List: @latte-fairytaekwoon @queenofgames @moonchildsmoon @subways-stuff @actuallythatwaspromise

Scenario: Single dad Yeosang, Yeosang tried his best to make a life for his daughter, ever since he left her mother. Y/n is Yuna’s teacher, after talking to Yeosang about her behavior. The two don’t meet eye to eye, yeosang tries to prove to Y/n he’s a great father, and possible lover too.

The sun shined throughout the house, Yeosang was asleep he was exhausted from last night’s tattoo session. Kang Yeosang was a tattoo artist, he had tattoos himself, His right ankle had a moon tattooed in perfect smooth ink, His left arm was tattooed with a dragon, the cherry blossom on his right hand had set perfectly, while his daughter’s birthday was inked perfectly on his finger, on his left hand. The medium sized tattoo was placed on his neck. It was a heart but it held much meaning to him, every tattoo held much meaning to Yeosang. Sure he looked intimidating, he would always sit with no expression, maybe the ink on his body scared people? What if the eyebrow and tongue piercing is giving it away. Yeosang was reckless, he remembers the time he got so drunk he went and slept with a girl, she gave birth to his beautiful little Yuna. Who was now 8 years old without her mother. Yeosang was in a toxic relationship with her for awhile. She had become jealous of the bond the two carried since Yuna was born. It got bad to where she abused Yeosang, to where she hit Yuna whenever Yuna made one small mess. It got worse, to where Yeosang had hit her...only once. Because she was not letting go of Yuna who was scared and crying her heart out from the physical pain through her body. Yeosang soon moved out, taking his daughter with him and never ever going back to her again.

Yuna walked downstairs, she frowned as she put the bag beside the chair. “You don’t seem so enthusiastic?” Yeosang asked. Yuna sighed, “I wanna keep my hair down appa,” her lip quivered. Yeosang knew why, her birthmark, just like her father she had her birthmark on display. It was much more red, bigger and set on her right cheek. “You look beautiful, Yuna you are my child, and what have I always taught you?” he asked. As he adjusted her cat shape earrings. “To stand up for myself and always defend myself,” She smiled as he nodded his head and went back to cooking. Yeosang smiled as he remembers all the moments he spent with Yuna before school came along, friends, etc.

Yeosang held Yuna’s hand as he walked her into school, standing at the front desk. “Good Morning, Mr. Kang,” the front desk lady said. She never liked Yeosang, the two argued a lot, maybe more than others could count. “Good Morning to you too, I’m just here to check Yuna in, I don’t see why you guys have a desk,” he rolled his eyes. She scoffed. “Because it helps us keep up with the kids and figure out who comes in or may be missing,”. Once he checked Yuna into school, she held his hand giving it a small squeeze. “Can you walk with me? I don’t wanna show up alone, and we have a new teacher, She could be mean to me,” Yuna said. Yeosang ruffled her hand with his free hand, walking her to her class. “It doesn’t matter who she is, tell me if she’s mean, I’ll handle it,” he said as he opened the door. The class looked at Yuna and her father. Some kids finding him scary and intimidating, others judging Yuna for claiming such a man as a father. “Welcome to class, I’m Y/n,” the teacher said. She gave Yuna a small smile as she got down to her height, sticking her hand out. “Yuna,” she said as she shook the older woman’s hand.

Yuna walked to her seat, You looked up to see her father, standing up to your regular height, You took in his appearance. He was very handsome, his dyed blond hair had sat perfectly on top of his head, his tattoos, his eyebrow piercing. His gaze, all of it could make a woman fall in love in a second. “You must be the father, I’m Y/n, the new teacher,” you introduced yourself. “Kang Yeosang,” he said in a low tone. You caught sight of his tongue piercing. “Yuna gets out early today, we’re scheduling a field trip for the kids so they get to leave a bit early,”. He nodded his head, not giving an expression and walking out of the classroom. You felt a little off about Yuna being his daughter. I mean they were identical, but was she in good hands?. You didn’t wanna snoop but you couldn’t help but be a bit suspicious of the situation. “Okay class, Today we’re gonna team up and study for our written test, Hangul is important to learn,” you said as you eyed around at the kids. Yuna was a clone of Yeosang, no doubt, but something didn’t feel right.

Yeosang walked into the tattoo shop, he had dropped Yuna off at her school, Now he can come to work and relax until he’s needed. “You look like you had a bad morning,” Yunho remarked as he looked up from the tattoo he was working on. “I’m having a good morning, just a little tired, taking care of Yuna isn’t easy you know,” Yeosang said. Yunho nodded as he turned back to work on the tattoo. Yeosang walked back to his station, he felt sadness overtake him, Yuna didn’t seem to be having a good day. Yeosang tried his best to help his little one with her temper. But sometimes it became too much for him to handle. While raising Yuna, Yeosang had noticed his daughter was angry. He soon found out that she was angry for not having a mother, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy to just go fish her one out. He knew it would take time for him to even find someone special for them both, Yeosang wasn’t an easy guy and he learned not to settle for just about anyone. He learned that he had to play it smart, mainly for Yuna’s sake. “You have a client today, Something about a ankle tattoo?” San said. “Send em in,” Yeosang said, he put the cigarette down as he got everything ready.

You sat at the desk, looking over some papers as the kids chattered and worked on their Hangul in groups. The door opened to reveal someone, someone you’ve never met at the school. “Is it okay if I see you for a moment Y/n? It won’t be long,” he said. You nodded your head as you stood up. “You kids continue to work together, I’m going out to speak with someone,”. The class hummed as you walked outside of the room, closing the door behind you. “I’m the art teacher here, Park Seonghwa, I wanted to come visit you to ask you if I can pull Yuna out of the classroom? I needed to speak with her for a moment about the art project she had missed,” he said. You nodded your head and told him to give you a minute, You opened the door and noticed the kids were arguing. Yuna, Mung, Hana, and Jun. Sighing you walked over. “You can’t be mean to Mung like that, Hana!” Yuna yelled. Hana snatched the pencil from Yuna as she jabbed Yuna with it in the cheek. “You need to watch out, You tomato face,”. Before you could speak up to catch the attention of the kids fully, Yuna had jumped across, She begin to hit Hana over. Tears filling within her eyes. “Children, Quit!” you yelled out as you pulled Hana away. Yuna had glared at you. “Yuna, Principles office, now,”. She stomped away as you looked at Seonghwa. “Could you please take Hana to the nurse,”. He nodded his head.

Yeosang laughed with the client, almost done with her tattoo, the two begin to chat up a storm. “So your girlfriend does tattoo’s?” Yeosang asked as he leaned back in his chair. He grabbed the cigarette from the table side, lighting it and inhaling it. Seulgi hummed as she smiled. “She’s been doing them for awhile, but when she later was sent out to see her family, I started to miss her and wanted to get a tattoo on my ankle to surprise her,” Seulgi explained. Yeosang exhaled the smoke from his mouth before nodding his head. “That makes sense, plus on top of that you got a badass tattoo,”. Before the two could speak further, San rushed in, holding Yeosang’s phone. “Yuna got in a fight at school, they need you there,”. Seulgi frowned as she waved Yeosang off, He had told San to finish the tattoo and he walked along out of the door. He was a bit proud inside, Yuna was finally sticking up for herself, just maybe not the way he expected or wanted her to do it. Yeosang rushed to the school, he wanted to make sure she was okay in every way possible. When he arrived he walked in the office to find Yuna slouched in the chair, avoiding the burning gaze her father sent. She was aware that she would be in serious trouble for it. “Please have a seat, Mr. Kang,” The principle said. Yeosang sat in the chair beside Yuna.

“I would like to just say that I’m not aware of the full story but I do wanna say that whatever is going on personally, is effecting Yuna during school hours,” he said. “I can promise you Mr. Kim, I’m in no way putting my daughter in harm, you must have the wrong idea about me,”. You opened the door and looked at the three in the room, gently putting the bag beside Yuna. “I brought her backpack,” you said. “Could you please tell Yeosang what happened?” he said. Yeosang soon turned his head towards you. “Uhh...Well, I was brought outside the classroom by Seonghwa, he wanted to speak with me, When I came back to get Yuna for him, I found the kids arguing, I couldn’t very much hear or understand the situation well, except for the fact that Ms. Yuna here is causing fights, but her behavior wasn’t the best this morning,” you explained in full details. Kim Seokjin nodded his head as he looked over at Yeosang. “Yuna is always sad throughout her day, she’s either hitting the kids, making smart remarks, or she often avoids everyone. Last week, Yuna came to school with a bruise on her cheek, it seems to still be there, I know you must be putting her through a lot, I would hate to get anything serious involved, so fess up or your daughter gets suspended from school,” he said.

Yeosang stood up quickly, knocking the chair back, his glare on the older man and you were strong. But you looked over to see Yuna a bit shocked by her fathers sudden outburst. “You two are terrible, My daughter is perfectly fine, her home life is good and doesn’t concern you, If you think I’m just some deadbeat or uncaring father! you’re wrong! And it’s her birthmark!” he yelled as he grabbed her bag. “Suspend Yuna,” he said as he guided his 8 year old daughter out of school. You followed behind the angry man, when you made it outside, he was putting her in the car, putting her bag in. “Mr. Kang,” you said as you approached him as he was closing her car door. “What? Did you come out here to judge me?” he asked. You sighed. “Your behavior could be taking a toll on Yuna, I don’t think you’re giving a good example to her, for one, you are teaching her how to be careless in this life, which is no way to abuse her young mind,” you explained. He glared at you. “Look, Just shut the fuck up okay?!?!”. You soon felt anger take over you. “I’m telling you that the way she’s acting isn’t okay! And you know it!”. He soon pinned you against the car, the smirk plastered on his face. “You know what? I got some news for you, I’m a good father, a single good father at that, and I’m gonna prove it, one way or another,”. Yeosang snatched your phone, as he placed his number in it, he handed it back and left without giving a word. You were shocked but a little smirk showed on your face, you were up for a challenge.

Later that night, the rain fell heavily from the sky, Yuna sat at the dining table, a frown on her face as she looked down. “You haven’t touched hardly any of your food,” Yeosang said as he eyed the full bowl. She only hummed in response. “What’s gotten into you? I took you to anger management? I’ve done everything I could for an 8 year old, yet you still choose to act out, Why did you hit her Yuna?”. Yuna looked up at her father, the sight broke his heart, her small eyes, filled with tears as she wanted to give up already. “Hana made fun of me again, She was being mean to my friend, So I wanted to stop her, and she was making jokes about my face, So I hit her...I’m sorry,” she apologized. What she didn’t expect was the chuckle leaving her fathers lips. He was proud of her. “What’s funny?” Yuna asked confused. “What’s funny is that you assumed I was angry at you for sticking up for yourself. Look, I taught you to be happy with who you are, Just next time walk away from the situation,” he said. The knock at the door interrupted the father and daughter moment. Yeosang stood up, opening the door and soon seen you. You held the umbrella tightly as you smiled. “Mr. Kang, I’m sorry to be showing at this hour, but I brought some work for Yuna to do,” you said. He slowly took the papers from your head before opening the door wider. “Come in, It’s cold out there,” he said. You shook your head. “I’m fine, I’m gonna be going home,” you said. He shrugged and grabbed your wrist, gently guiding you inside. He closed the door.

“It’s cold, you should lay low here for a bit until the rain decides to stop, would you like to have some Ramen?” he asked. You nodded your head and followed him to the dining room, you had to admit. His place was very nice, much nicer than you thought. It was clean too and it smelt pretty decent. “Yuna, Your new teacher’s here to give you some work and have Ramen with us,” Yeosang said. You sat at the table, bowing your head slightly to the little girl. “I’m sorry about earlier,” Yuna apologized. She had bowed her head as she finished the broth in her Ramen. “You hardly ate anything, you just sat and drank the broth, You need to fill up your stomach princess,” Yeosang said as he kissed Yuna’s forehead. She whined. “But I don’t feel like eating a lot appa,”. He chuckled. “Alright, Well go change into your pajamas, Brush your teeth, brush your hair really good, and lay down, you might not be going to school for awhile but you still have a bedtime little lady,” he said. She nodded her head before waving bye at the two adults, making her way upstairs. Yeosang sighed as he placed a full bowl of Ramen in front of you. “I’m sorry about Yuna’s behavior at school lately, but you have to understand, Yuna is just a small girl, she’s growing up without a mom, as her dad I try to learn things so I can teach her but please next time, Instead of making me wanna punch that stupid Seokjin in the face, Just agree with me,” he said. You chuckled as you ate the ramen.

You two had talked for a bit of time, you got to learn a few things about Yuna and her father. Even though you recently met a lot of people today, you found a lot of interest in the family. “If you don’t mind me asking, where is Yuna’s mother?” you asked. Yeosang shrugged as he sipped his Soju. “I left her a long time ago when Yuna was a newborn still, she was toxic, we weren’t working out and a lot of bad things were happening,” he explained. You only frowned. “What do you do for a living?” you asked. “I’m a tattoo artist, I was an irresponsible idiot who thought the world revolved around me, soon I fell in love, had Yuna, moved away, raised her alone, and it built me into the man I am today,”. Soon the small girl had came downstairs, walking towards her dad with a frown. “Appa, I’m not feeling well,” Yuna whined. He put the Soju on the table as he picked up Yuna, putting her on the counter and checking her forehead. “Running a fever, Get the medicine out of the cupboard for me,”. You did as he said and walked over. “I’m not taking it!” she whined louder. Yeosang frowned. “Guess you won’t be a pretty and strong princess when you grow up,” he said. She finally took the red colored liquid, she whined as she begin to cling to you. “I’m tired,” she said. You sighed. “Yuna, You must get rest, when you rest and take your medicine, you’ll wake up and feel better, I promise,” you said. She soon drifted to sleep. Yeosang thanked you and took her from your arms.

He put her to bed, she gently opened her eyes. “Appa, Where is Eomma?” she asked. He stopped his sudden movements and frowned. “She’s somewhere else, probably off living her life Yuna, but don’t worry cause you have me okay?” he said. “Can I sleep in the bed with you?” Yuna asked. He nodded his head. “Of course, just as soon as your teacher leaves, I’ll be back up here,”. He kissed her forehead as he walked downstairs. You smiled a little. “It was really nice being in your home Mr. Kang, Really but I have to go, just be sure Yuna does her work and you don’t let her slack off,” you said. He rolled his eyes. “Call me Yeosang. And stop doubting me, Yuna is in great hands, I can assure you of that, but I have a lot of things to do tomorrow, can you come by tomorrow to help Yuna with her work?” he asked. “I have to teach tomorrow, Will tomorrow night be fine?” you asked. He agreed and you thanked him, walking outside of his place. You felt good and you couldn’t wait to see where things were going.

The next day was like any other day, you taught your class, picked up some food, chatted with some people for a bit. And finally night fell, the night you would be helping Yuna with her work. You knocked on the door waiting for the answer, when the door opened, you found Yuna. “Where’s your father?” you asked. She smiled. “He’s getting dressed in the room! And you were right Y/n! My fever is gone, thank you so much!” she hugged you. You hugged a bit as you entered the home. Once the door closed, Yeosang came out, he wore a black shirt with a black leather jacket. His ripped jeans and shoes going along with the jewelry and ink that fit his body. And his mullet to top it off. “I’ll be heading out, Keep watch on her, she’s a bit sneaky but she gets it from me,” he winked. Yeosang kissed her forehead and ruffled your hair before he left the house. You sat down on the couch beside Yuna who had no interest in her work at all. “You have a lovely home Yuna, I forgot to tell you that,” you spoke as you tried to start conversation. “Thank you! My appa’s done a lot, I told him a small home would be fine, but Appa said I deserved the best in life, He even came home hurt...I think he said it was some money situation,” she frowned during her explanation. You sighed trying your best to take her mind off of it.

You grabbed the stack of papers and put them on the coffee table in front of you. “Let’s start working shall we,” you said. You both begin to work, Yuna had struggled a bit along the way but you were wiling to help her through a lot. Time had passed and you worked with her, even taking small snack breaks, playing around with her. You found yourself doing a lot to entertain the child that was with you. Still wondering where her father had to be off to.

Yeosang though, he was at the bar, not to drink his life away, but because he was invited to celebrate Hongjoong’s birthday with him. Seonghwa took a sip as the men all sat in a booth. “Can’t believe you’re so old now,” Jongho joked as Hongjoong sent a glare. “I’m just stressed out, the kids have my back in a lot of pain, thankfully Y/n was there to help,” Seonghwa said. Yeosang chuckled at the thought of you working with kids. Now this is something that Yeosang didn’t very much understand. You were like a drug, he could never stop thinking about you. No matter how hard he tried. You always managed to come up in his mind. “Let’s just celebrate the night away,” Mingi suggested. And that they did, the guys found themselves getting a little too drunk. They danced and sang a bit, Yeosang though, Yeosang stayed sober. He would’ve gotten drunk out of his mind but he wanted to be sober for Yuna’s sake, she deserved a healthy and well minded father. As hours upon hours passed, Yeosang sent his friends home, one by one before finally retreating home himself. “Damn, 1:20 AM?” he said as he checked the time. He made it home and opened the door gently. Only to find Yuna asleep on the couch, you cleaned the mess around the living area. “Welcome home, Yeosang, Yuna did most of her lessons, I thought it would be okay if she was practically knocked out,” you said. He nodded his head with a tired smile. “Thank you, Could you continue to help her? I’ll start paying you,” he said. You shook your head. “Keep the money, I do this because I love Yuna,”. Without another word, you grabbed your belongings and walked out of the door.

1 Week passed

You continued to help Yuna work on her papers, teaching her, every night you would go over and help her. Sometimes Yeosang there to help her too. You guys would have snack breaks, play together, and often go on outings to reward Yuna for her hard work. Yeosang sometimes coming home too tired, he looked drained. He had many appointments to handle at the tattoo shop. He was like a ghost.

2 Weeks passed

You grew closer to Yeosang and Yuna, hanging out with them. You would often take Yuna to play at the park, you liked to call it a teaching lesson but Yeosang was aware you tagged along because you wanted.

3 Weeks passed

Yuna was finally able to come back to school. But she never did. It left you confused. Yuna hadn’t been sick the last few weeks you’ve spent with her. You were mainly concerned about Yeosang. You heard from Seonghwa he was coming home drunk now, he wasn’t making much time for Yuna, enough time for Yuna to be exact. It got bad to where Yeosang hardly showed up to work.

4 Weeks passed

You still hadn’t seen Yuna, so much that you wanted to run over to her place, ask her if her father was okay. But you didn’t want to disturb in case they are taking time alone.

{Current Week}

You had enough, it was now a new week and no sign of the father or daughter you adored. You had rushed over to their place as soon as you got done with your teaching of the day. You knocked on the door, but no response, you knocked and knocked. Again and Again. The stress, worry, all of it was eating you up inside. What could be going on that Yeosang and Yuna ghosted you so much. 3 Hours passed, still no sign. You refused to leave though, you knocked again and finally the door open. Only to reveal a weak and pale Yeosang. “Oh my god! Yeosang,” you said. Without any thought, you hugged him tightly. The tears threatening to fall down your face. He frowned. “You shouldn’t be here, Yuna’s sick,” he coughed. You looked at him. “You’re both sick?” you asked. He nodded his head, as he was going to speak, he was interrupted, hearing a sudden. “APPA” throughout the house. Yeosang weakly and slowly made his way upstairs with you following in toll, he walked in the room and there on her bed was Yuna. “Appa, I threw up again,” she said. “Alright, just relax, I can give you a bath and you can-”. Without another word, Yeosang collapsed, sending him down. “Yeosang!”.

.........

Yeosang opened his eyes, his vision coming into focus, he had suddenly remember what happened, without another thought he raised up. Only to find Yuna asleep beside him. The bedroom door opened and you walked in, a wet cloth in your hand. “Someone’s awake, how are you feeling?” you asked placing it on his forehead. “A bit weak, sick, tired, I mean what else am I supposed to do? What can I say? I’m a weak kinda guy,” he joked earning a small laugh from your lips. “I wouldn’t say weak, just an over worker, And a good father,” you said. He suddenly stopped and looked at you, you stopped your movements as he gripped your wrist. “What did you say?” He said a bit shocked. “I said you were a good father?. I’m sorry that I judged you too quickly, I based you off of your tattoos and piercings, your clothes, your tone, your car, your motorcycle, I judged you so much that I realized recently, You truly are a great father, You deserve to be happy,” you said. Without another thought, Yeosang had pulled you into a tight kiss. Your body relaxing under his soft lips as you fell deeper into the kiss with him. He had pulled away, his heart racing but his mind was relaxing. It was you he was kissing, he had no complaints since it felt so....right.

“I should go,” you said checking the time from the dark blush on your face. “I did enjoy the kiss a lot though,” you said. He smirked. “So I proved to you I was a good father, what about a lover?” he said. You chuckled. “You never proved that, guess we’ll have to see another time, just take care of Yuna and take care of yourself, I’ll see you guys some other time,” you said walking out of the house. He sighed and leaned back into his soft bed. A proud smile crept on Yuna’s hidden face. So her plan worked after all.

Hello! I’m glad you guys read this, and comment if you want this to be a series or if you want anything else. I am here to fully listen to any suggestions or request you guys may have!

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