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wandering-tides · 2 months

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People always rank either Ei or Zhongli (or both) above Venti in power rankings. Like, who is the strongest archon? There are always two answers: Morax or Beelzebul. Never Barbatos.

I like to think otherwise.

This guy has cut mountains with his winds and thrown them so far away into the sea, made winter disappear and turned Mond into what it is today: from a barren rocky land that used to be filled with snow and raging blizzards into this green plain field with gentle winds where agriculture is so much easier then it ever was back then. I don't think people of Old Mond could have ever imagined for Mond to turn into what it is today.

But he still calls himself weak. And people took that to face value. And some still do despite it being proven otherwise by Nahida.

Venti said that an archon derives their power from ruling over their nation. But Nahida denies this later and says that archons gain their power through the faith of the people.

Clearly, Venti lied to us.

And if we go by what Nahida said,,,, Every freakin person in Mond has faith in the Anemo archon. They sing praises of him despite not having been in the presence of their god for 5 centuries. He has a statue and a Cathedral (who else has that?).

So, Venti is Strong.

Remember his gnosis is in the shape of a queen chess piece? Queen has the most freedom on the board. Venti's ideals are freedom. And his element is anemo. Anemo is the free-est element out there.

He might as well suck the air out of your lungs if he so wants to. He governs over it.

My point is, Venti is overpowered.

And let's not forget how that little wind wisp gained archon hood.

It was his desire to protect that helped him into becoming a god. When the nameless bard died, he felt the need to protect whats left. To protect what his friend died fighting for.

And its a pretty cliche concept out their about how a hero grows stronger, in any story. Its their need to protect. Right?

And Venti still wants to protect Mond- despite him saying otherwise. He shows up everytime Mond is in danger. Whether directly or indirectly, he always helps out.

So here is what I think. The reason why he calls himself weak.

Its because he is so strong, strong enough to scare Celestia. So Celestia has put him on some sort of leash. He can't use his powers in it's entirety. There is probably some sort of seal.

So Venti is weak.

Because he can't use all of his powers. Because he is chained to Celestia's whim.

Venti is weakest of the seven because he is the only one who has some sort of leash on him.

The god of freedom, chained.

Plus, it can definitely not be a coincidence that the defiled statue was of Barbatos, out of all the seven. Chained, hanging up-side down and corrupted.

And the fact that the abyss order was going to use Barbatos (chained) statue to create a machine to "topple the divine thrones of Celestia."

None of that can be a coincidence. Knowing hoyoverse, it definitely isn't.

So yeah. Venti is definitely not weak. He just can't use the full extent of his powers as of right now.

Venti is strong, but also weak. If he isn't chained- he is easily the strongest.

He can slice the mountains and throw them far into sea- if Zhongli throws a big peice of meteor on him, venti should be able to cut it in half too. if he has all his power on him that is.

I really hate it when people call him weak just because he said so himself. Especially when it's been proven that we shouldn't take his words to face value.

He is not like our sweet little Nahida, people.

#also #i feel like we are going to see something about this in his second story quest #there is *always* lore drops when he appears.#however big or small #venti #barbatos #genshin barbatos #genshin venti #character analysis #genshin impact venti #genshin analysis #genshin impact lore #genshin impact #archon venti

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jaxon-exe · 4 months

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Just saw this point vv

That has Danny being Gotham and it has given me ideas!!

So after becoming the ghost king Danny gets a haunt. Now the thing about haunts (for this au) is that they r a reflection of its ruler. It’s basically their inter being made into a physical place.

Well that comes with a unique situation with Danny as he’s half alive. So bc of that half of his haunt is also alive (ie in the living world)

And bc time is more of a suggestion in the infinite realms, the living half of Danny’s haunt is and always has been Gotham.

This is also y Gotham is cursed. At first it was just Fenton luck but over the years power hunger ghost have cursed Danny and in turn his haunt.

Now with the background out of the way here we go

So one day it’s notice that Gotham is a bit more crazy than normal. Not only has crime and rouge activities randomly spiked but the weather is also going nuts. With random storms popping out of nowhere and even a blizzard in mid spring.

Deciding better save than sorry Batman calls in some JLD members to see if it’s magic related and it is. The JLD always knew Gotham was cursed but they can now feel a new and more powerful curse has been placed on the city. So they set about trying to get rid of it and they can’t

At this point is when they decide to pull John out of bed and get him to help to and after a bit of poking around he comes to the conclusion that the curse is anchored to something and so sets about summoning the anchor.

Yeah… non of them were expecting the king of the dead to be the anchor.

What’s worse is that Danny pops up in his spooky eldritch form and they quickly cancel the spell bc NOPE!!

So they naturally come to the conclusion that the king was the one to curse Gotham and he anchored the curse to himself so it couldn’t be easily lifted.

Meanwhile with Danny.

He’s having a rough go at it. This curse is pretty foul and he’s been stuck in his ‘spooky form’ bc his more approachable forms can’t handle it. Now Danny has been trying to get rid of all the curses on him for awhile but it was never top priority, u know with being king and all. Now tho it definitely is. However he’s in a bit of a bind bc ghost cant really remove curses and he doesn’t have the knowledge of how to do it while alive.

But those guys that summoned him definitely do and might be his best shot.

Basically from here it’s the Batfam plus JLD trying to figure out how to brake the curse on Gotham while also being jump scared by the king of the death popping out of nowhere only to be beating off with a broom back to the afterlife. Meanwhile Danny over here is just trying to figure out how to get their help even tho he looks like a nightmare personified and sounds like the screams of the damned

#danny fenton #dp x dc #batfam #dcxdp #dc x dp fic #john constantine

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specialagentlokitty · 3 months

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Negan x reader - we’ll stay

The snow was blinding, freezing, and no matter how tightly you wrapped your blanket around you it wouldn’t do anything to help you.

You tripped slightly, stumbling a few steps into the man in front of you.

“Sorry…”

Negan slowed his steps slightly, walking alongside of you.

“You good?”

You gave a weak nod of your head, and he watched as you pulled your blanket a little closer to yourself.

Negan turned slightly, using his torso to stop the majority of the snow from hitting you and you glanced up at him.

“You’re being oddly nice…”

“Hey, if we’re gonna freeze to death out here may as well freeze be me first.”

You laughed slightly, shaking your head at him.

Negan grinned at you, looking ahead of him to make sure he wasn’t going to walk into anybody before turning his attention back to you.

You pulled your scarf up a little further.

With a small sigh, Negan took his blanket off, taking off a jacket and he took the one underneath off, holding it out to you.

He put his jacket on and took his blanket back.

“Go on.”

“Negan you need this, put it back on.”

“Yeah, you’re probably going to freeze before me, and since you’re the only fucker who even likes me at this point I can’t be letting you die.”

You smiled at him, passing him your blanket so you could put his larger jacket over yours and you took your blanket back.

“Plus what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t offer a stunnin’ lady like yourself my jacket?” He flirted.

“Yeah guess you’d be a bigger dick than you already are.”

His face twisted with mock hurt.

“Ouch, okay. I may have just saved your life.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. You’re fatass ego don’t need to be any bigger.”

Negan chuckled a little, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, placing his hand on your head, using his blanket to try stop the harsh weather hitting you.

“Judith!” Gabriel yelled.

Everybody stopped, and you and Negan spun around to watch her running away.

“Judith!” You both yelled.

Negan was the next to go, and you cursed quietly.

“Negan stop!” You shouted.

You shoved your blanket into the hands of whoever was behind you and sprinted after him, trying to find him.

“Negan?! Judith?!”

You spun around in a circle, looking around, looking at the ground to find their steps but you couldn’t even see your own.

“Negan?! Judith?!”

You tried to listen, but with wind roaring around you, snow coming at you from all directions it was impossible to make anything out.

Taking your scarf off you pulled both jackets around your nose, using the scary to hold them in place so you could try keep your face warm.

You pulled your sleeves down, putting your hands in your pockets as you carried on walking.

You should find shelter, but you had to find Negan and Judith to make sure they were both fine and safe.

But you didn’t know if you were going in the same direction, a different one, circling around again and again.

The blizzard was getting worse, you were shivering, and you were finding it harder and harder to walk, to breath it was that cold.

You dropped to your knees, lowering your head you pulled down the scarf and jackets, breathing in the freezing air.

It burned your lungs, and you pulled the jackets back up again.

Pushing yourself, you slowly began to walk, still trying to find the pair.

You couldn’t go on for much longer, your body couldn’t handle the freezing temperatures anymore.

Eventually your legs gave way, and you dropped to your knees.

“Judith…! Negan…!” You called weakly.

You hoped they would be nearby, but there’s no way they would have heard you.

Slowly you fell forward, shaky breaths wracking your body as you tried to keep moving.

“S..shit…” you whispered.

All you could do was listen to the sound of the wind around you, hiding your face in the jackets, covered your head with your arm in the hopes it would something.

Your eyes were fighting to stay open, and it was a loosing battle for sure.

You didn’t know how long you had been out there, if this storm was going to let out anytime soon.

It didn’t work, there was no winning this fight, even you knew that.

So, you stopped fighting, you closed your eyes and let the snow collect on your body, covering it, hiding it from anybody who might try find you.

As the storm rolled over, finally passing, daybreak came and Michonne and the others came home.

Everybody was playing in the snow and laughing, and Gabriel walked over with a serious look on his face.

“What is it?” Michonne asked.

“We’re missing (Y/N). She ran off after Negan to find him and Judith, she hadn’t returned Michonne.”

Everybody slowly stopped.

“You mean (Y/N) was still out here?” Daryl asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Get everybody that can look, move slowly and quickly, if she’s in the snow we don’t want to step on her.”

Negan looked at Siddiq who was treating his wound on his leg.

“Where’s (Y/N)?”

Siddiq didn’t say anything, but the look on his face said it all.

“No…”

Negan tried to get up but he was pushed back down.

“No! If she’s out there I have to find her!” Negan snapped.

“Everybody is looking, but the chances of survival out there all night are next to zero.”

Negan pushed him back and tried to get up, only for Michonne to stop him with her sword to his throat and he slowly laid back down.

“You’re staying here. We have everybody looking for (Y/N), and we will find her but even you know being out all night in that storm it doesn’t look good.”

Negan clenched his jaw, and he turned away, staring at the wall opposite him.

“Why pretend you care?”

Michonne walked around to stand in front of him, so he had to look at her and he did, his eyes locked with hers.

“Why?”

“Who the hell said I was pretending? I tried to go back out but those assholes wouldn’t let me.”

“Because you could run away!”

“You think I’d fucking run away in that?!”

They both went quiet and Michonne studied his face, his body language, the tone of his voice.

“(Y/N) is the only one who treated me like I was human, she is kind.”

“Shit… you really do care, don’t you?”

“Why the fuck do you think I want to go out there?”

Michonne sighed.

Walking over to a chair she sat down, looking at him and he looked at her.

They spoke, but went quiet when the door was slammed open, and you were rushed into the room, to bed opposite his.

“Is she alive?” Michonne asked.

Negan tried to get up but the look he was given made him stop again.

He looked at you, they pulled the cold jackets off you, tossing you aside to then covered you with blankets, trying to bring your temperature up.

“There’s a pulse, but it’s barely there.” Siddiq replied.

“If we can bring her temperature up we might have a better chance, the snow insulted some heat but not much.” Daryl said.

Negan could see your face now, you were so pale, your lips were tinged blue.

You really did look dead, well and truly dead and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“This room is too cold, we can’t heat it. We don’t have enough water either.” Gabriel said.

“Bring her here.” Negan said.

They all looked to him, and Daryl scoffed.

“As if. We’re not bringing her anywhere near you.”

“Look, I’m not going anywhere at I? She needs a constant steady source of heat or you’ll send her into shock and she’ll die! Is that what you want? You wanna kill her?”

They all went quiet, looking to Michonne for an answer on what to do.

This was her call, it was all up to you.

He was right, you need to be gradually warmed, and if they keep trying all these different ways then you would die.

“Do if, carefully, and only one blanket, we don’t want to send (Y/N) into shock.”

“You can’t be fuckin’ serious!” Daryl yelled.

“If we don’t (Y/N) will die! This is our best chance!” Michonne yelled back.

Gabriel and Siddiq carefully moved you over to Negans bed, rested your between his legs, your back on his chest, and they covered you up with a blanket.

“If you try anything…” Daryl warned.

With that, he left the room, and Michonne pointed her sword at Negan.

“Anything at all Negan, we will kill you.”

“I won’t.”

Michonne lowered her sword and they all walked away.

When they were gone Negan sighed, placing a hand on your forehead.

You were that cold that it made him slightly cold.

He pulled the blanket up to your shoulders, and rested his arm over your collar bone, his hand on your shoulder as he leant back.

“You’re a damn idiot…” he whispered.

He carefully sat up, peering down at you.

The colour still hadn’t returned to your skin, and he raised his hand that was resting on your shoulder to your neck, pressing it on your pulse point.

He could feel it faintly, and he lowered his head to your nose just to make sure that you were still breathing.

He couldn’t rest, every so often Negan would check your breathing and pulse, and he would let Siddiq check you over when he came by.

As night began to fall, Negan sat reading by a small light.

Negan had a book in one hand, his arm still draped over you, and his leg under yours.

Setting the book down so he could turn the page, Negan shuffled a little, wanting to stretch but not wanting to move you too much.

Siqqid came back, placing his hand on your head, and he studied you for a minute.

“She seems to be doing better, I’m going to move her back into her own bed.”

Negan snapped his head up, tightening his hold on your.

“Don’t even fucking think about it.”

“She needs her own space for when she wakes up.”

“She needs, and will stay here.” Negan said lowly.

Siqqid sighed, moving away.

He couldn’t fight Negan he knew that, even if Negan was hurt Negan will still knock him to the floor.

“If anything changes, if she gets worse come find me. She needs to drink this when she’s up.”

With that, Siqqid set a cup on the table and left, closing the door behind him.

Negan waited, and he slowly set his hook down.

He carefully moved you, resting your back on the bed, and he rolled to the side with a small grunt of pain, wrapping his arm around you, his hand on your hip while he rested his head on his other arm.

He just stared at you, studying your features, how peaceful you looked, the colour had slightly returned to your face, you felt warmer.

He was exhausted, all he wanted to do was sleep but he didn’t want to risk anything happening to you, so he stayed awake for as long as he could before exhaustion got the better of him.

You weren’t sure what made you wake up, but your eyes shot up and you took a few deep, shaky breaths as you stared at the ceiling.

You laid there for a few moments just staring straight up, letting your senses come back and give yourself time to figure out what happened.

“Negan… Judith…” you whispered.

You tried to pushed yourself up, but you didn’t have the strength, and you noticed something else was weighing you down.

Reaching for the blanket you tossed it aside, finding a hand resting on your stomach, a leg thrown over yours.

You turned your head, coming face to face with Negan whose eyes were open, watching you and he smiled slightly.

“Stay there.”

He covered you up and got up, walking to the table he grabbed he glass and sat next to you, helping you sit up so you could drink it.

He placed his hand to your forehead and gave a nod of approval.

Setting the glass on the floor he got back over the cover and laid down again, putting his leg back over yours, his hand going back to your head.

You slowly turned over, laying on your side, and he trailed his hand to the side of your face, tracing small circles.

“What the hell were you thinking…?” He whispered.

“You and Judith ran off… I had to find you…”

“Yeah, and you nearly fucking died in the process…”

You sighed a little, and he sighed back.

“Sorry… I’m sorry… I just… I swear I wanted to go find you…”

“It’s better you didn’t go out…”

Negan gave you a disapproving look.

“That’s not true, if I did maybe I coulda found you.”

“Or you’d be frozen too…”

He gave a small shrug, grinning a little bit at you.

He felt a shiver run through you and he pulled the blanket a little tighter around your body, moving a little closer so you were almost nose to nose with him.

“Idiot…”

You laughed softly, closing your eyes.

Negan closed his as well, and he felt your hands grip his shirt.

“I’ve got you…” he whispered.

“Negan…?”

You heard him hum, moving his head so that he could tuck your head under his chin.

“Stay…”

“I’m not going anywhere…” he whispered back.

You nodded, and Negan held you a little closer.

“You better stay too because if you don’t I’ll kick your ass.”

This made you laugh.

“Yeah.. yeah I’ll stay…”

“You better.” He chuckled

#the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #Negan smith #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan smith x y/n #Negan smith imagine

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thetriplets3 · 5 months

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hi lovely! i have a request!!! could you do one where matt and reader are secretly dating and they go out on a date and someone catches them? like fan and they post it or something?? thx girl love ur work!!!

❝𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰❞

this is the jet lag and the covid brewing in my body that wrote this, not me. i have no idea if any of this is coherent or makes sense but i hope it’s okay

matt and i have been dating for nearly 2 years now having been friends since highschool. and we decided it was best for both of us to keep our relationship a secret public eye. his brothers, nate, and madi know but that’s it. just a few people we know would never say anything. their fans know of me and that i went to school with them so it’s no surprise to see me with them all but that’s the extent of it. matt posts a few soft launch photos of us but keeping me private. i don’t follow the boys from my main account so no fans have been able to dig through his followers to find who the mystery girl is.

matt and i rarely go out alone, always with his brothers or friends. there’s a small part of me that hurts that we decided to do this. not being able to spend time together in public without making things look very platonic, having to keep distance when we’re with friends who don’t know about us, or not being able to show my love openly for my boyfriend. i often turn down going to big events because i find them overwhelming, too loud, too many different things going on at once, it’s just too much for me especially when i can’t be with matt, my security blanket making me feel safe and comfortable.

it’s a blizzard outside, roads too icy for anyone to brace except those working. not to mention it’s the kind of cold that makes your nose hairs instantly feel frozen. using this weather to our advantage, matt and i carefully headed to our favorite little family run bakery down the road. one thing i hate is being cold. dressed in my comfiest thickest sweats, a fleece sweatshirt, a puffy jacket with a scarf just about covering my whole face you could hardly tell who i was, but i was warm and comfy.

we grab a table in the corner of the bakery decorated with warm christmas lights hung above the plush couch with a variety of plants aesthetically placed around the space. the atmosphere was beautiful, soft and gentle lighting, a fireplace adorned with christmas decorations and garland, instrumental music played quietly over the speakers, and to make it even better there wasn’t anyone in here other than the odd person that came in briefly here and there.

i leaned into matt’s side resting my head on his shoulder and his arm holding me closer to him. we sat there facing the large bay window soaking in the peace and beauty of the snow falling. we sat quietly in silence for a while before something out the window caught our eye. 2 teenage girls quickly putting their phones away once they saw us watching them, giggling as they ran away.

“matt” my voice falters, worried about what might be posted.

“i know it’s okay try not to worry, im sure you can’t even tell it’s us through all that spray on snow on the window. plus you’re so bundled up you look like cousin itt. no one will recognize who you are and if they do, they do. it’s out of our control love,” he tries to reassure me. he pulls his phone out and take a photo of us. “see? we’re good don’t worry”.

“omg i do look like cousin itt” i giggled.

“whatever happens, happens okay? sure they’ll know we’re dating but that’s all they know. we can still keep our relationship private just like we are now nothing has to change. i mean is it so bad that they know? i can take you on proper dates without having to hide you. so what if people see us? they only see a sliver of our relationship, they’ll see us together but that’s all they know. they don’t know our favorite song, the moment i fell in love with you, how you fit right into our family, how much my parents love you, mom’s told me you’re like the daughter she’s always wanted, nick and chris love you, everyone does. so i don’t care if they see us together, they only see the outside of our relationship. i know without a doubt in my mind that i’m gonna marry you one day. what they know doesn’t affect our relationship. i love you pretty girl”.

“i didn’t know you had a thing for cousin itt” i giggled earning a nudge to my shoulder from matt at my lack of seriousness. “i’m kidding, you’re right they can see the outside of our relationship and make their own assumptions. all that matters is we know our relationship. i love you”.

squeezing me closer to his side he rests his head on mine planting kisses to my head. “who doesn’t have a thing for cousin itt?” he joked making me laugh.

“i can’t wait to marry that laugh”.

taglist:

@antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @ssturniolo @20nugs @abbie13sworld @strniolo @luvsturniolo

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #readers pov #not edited #not sure what the whole cousin itt thing is about. again this isn’t me writing

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ivnxrori · 28 days

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When Sun and Moon meet - S1

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: Fighting (again)

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 3 - Dangerous Gale

I felt the calming breeze flow through my hair gently on the floor of flowers. The sweet scent of flowers went through my brain, a peaceful aura surrounded me. It felt like the home I dreamed of, sighing in relief. Wait…where am I? I quickly gather myself to walk around the flowers, trying not to destroy them. My breathing is growing unstable. “Hello?” I yelled out waving my hand against the breeze. I saw a figure in the distance. “Hellooo!? Do you know what this place is?” I called out to the unknown figure. Suddenly a wish of snow hit and a cold breeze struck. I shivered violently, this is nothing like I experienced before. I attempted to run towards the unknown person until I fell on top of the snow. I turned my body around to see the person, who was known above me. It was mom.

“Y/N don't give up” She whispers, her voice echoing around me

“What…? Mom?” I couldn't get up and saw my mom left slowly “Wait! Hold on! Mom!” I cried out trying to get her attention, but it never came…I closed my eyes for a second then woke back up.

There was a heavy blizzard outside, all I saw was the snow falling on my chin, my hood from my jacket covering most of my face. The wind was extreme and the smell of the heavy weather was icy. “Y/N?” Yue and Katara were over my unconscious body. “She’s awake!” Katara yelled at her brother and Yue hugged me. While I returned the hug “Where am I? And how long was I out?” I asked drowsily. “You were out for not too long but we’re looking for Aang at this moment” Yue informed as I groaned trying to get up. “I'm sorry” I mumbled. “It's okay Y/N you did your best” Katara’s brother said “plus I feel like we’re almost there”. I sigh in relief and lean back against…a saddle. “Who…What are we flying on?” I asked cautiously. “This is Appa, Appa this is Y/N” Katara’s brother introduced rather quickly. “What's your name?” I asked worriedly. “How do you not know my name?!” “Well Saur-re!” I said sarcastically “I have a bad memory!” “It's Sokka,” Katara introduced as he huffed in annoyance. Yue laughed sweetly which made me smile.

Time passed on and still nothing, just tons of snow which wasn't any different than before. “Don't worry, Prince Zuko cant be getting too far in this weather” Yue reassured Sokka and Katara. Zuko…so that's his name? Wait, he is a prince?? “I'm not worried they’ll get away in the blizzard, I'm worried that they won't” Katara explains disappointingly that they haven't found Aang any sooner. “They’re not gonna die in this blizzard! If we know anything, it is that Zuko doesn't give up” Sokka said. That sounded somewhat familiar. “They’ll survive, and we’ll find them” He continued. “I agree, plus he is the avatar, I'm confident he will survive.” I spoke up. A few minutes later a bright blue beam flew by us landing in a specific area. “Look! That's gotta be Aang” Katara yelled as we pointed towards the beam. Immediately Appa flew down to the area we were pointed at. We saw Aang, wiggling his way in the snow with Prince Zuko behind, grabbing him. Once we landed he let go of Aang.

“Ready for a re-match?” Zuko announced.

“Katara let me handle this.” I got down in the blizzard, using the snow around me to catch his fireball and throwing the ice cold water towards him, circling him. Finally knocking him down with an ice block letting him fall in the cold padded snow. “Easy” I muttered under my breath, Katara helping me up to get on Appa. “Wait, we can't leave him here,” Aang said sympathetically. “Why not?” Sokka retorted as I deeply sighed. “That's on him for trying to fight a water bender in a snowstorm, hear me? A snow-storm” I enunciated. “But if we leave him here, he will die.” I internally face palmed, wasn't that the whole entire plan? Aang carried Zuko on top of Appa, tying him to prevent him from dying and we set off again. ҉ ☾ “The moon spirit” I gasped at the change of atmosphere from a calming blue sky to a striking red environment. Once I had ingested the new area a pounding headache seeped through all parts of my head, Katara immediately came to my side. “Are you okay?” Sokka asked Yue as she also felt the pounding headache “I feel faint” She responded. “I feel it too” Aang held his head against his hand “The moon spirit is in trouble”

“I owe the moon spirit my life” I looked up at Yue and she corrected herself “We owe the moon spirit our lives” “What do you mean?” Sokka questioned “When we were born we were both unhealthy” Yue continued “Most babies cry when they are born but when I was born, as if I was asleep.” She sighed “Frankly, the total opposite happened to Y/N. When she was born she couldn't stop crying. Our healers did the best they could but there was no cure for both of us, we were bound to die. But that night our father pleaded with the moon spirit, underneath the full moon he brought us to the oasis and placed us in the pond. Our hair went from dark brown to white, that's when we were able to live.” Yue explained the situation we both went through. Both pitiful looks came from Katara and Sokka. “Sivoy was the only one who was born healthy and didn't need the moon's blessing, however our father decided to pray for his luck in the future as well.” I said. “That's how we three have white hair, it wasn't genetic.” I laughed breathily trying to keep it light hearted. “I assumed that you would have gotten it from your mom,” Katara said but we both shook our heads.

“Speaking of which, I had a dream in which my mom was in it” I told Yue, who was immediately intrigued following Katara and Sokka. “But…nothing happened, she just told me to not give up and left.” I said sadly. Katara patted my back. “Our mom died as well, she died protecting me” Katara said sorrowfully, holding her betrothal necklace while Sokka kept his head down. I felt nothing but sadness for them. “Hey, at least they’re both in a better place now”. I reassuringly patted both Katara and Sokka's backs as they both exhaled, leaving a cold breath. I turn my body towards the bloody moon, anxiety filling my senses.

<- Back - Next ->

a/n: Sorry if this chapter is shorter than the others I just couldnt mash it up with chapter 4. Additionally chapter 4 is going to be the last episode of season 1 (the masterlist gave hints). ALSO I keep adding stuff to the layout so if my reblogs look different dont worry. I constantly keep making additional changes LMAO. Also who knew that chosing names for chapters were really difficult 😭 I spent a good 10 minutes chosing a name for each chapter. However I think it turned out great!! I think season 2 might be my favorite season of this series CAUSE YOU SEE ZUKO WORKING AT THE TEA SHOP. I think a lot of the bickering will start from there definitely HOWEVER I shouldnt get ahead of myself since chapter 4 isnt released yet. Thank you guys for reading! The 2 chapters already got 100 likes WHICH IS LIKE?? WHAT?? I wasnt expecting that at all. But thank you :) Have a nice day and take care of yourself!! Also if you want to be added to the taglist comment or share to my inbox! Or just share anything to my Inbox I really dont mind!!

-- Taglist: @luvkvni @katovano @karmaswitch @someonesmember @velvet-spider @sh3sa1dwhat @nerdisthenewcool @meiraloves2dmen @fqnfics101 @iluvme547 @leaderwon @yukihatesreoyo @heart4hees @4l3x1s @kkissaku

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deathbyathousandspiders · 8 months

Note

cuddling w peter 😔🫶

my favorite 🫶🫶

here’s a cutesy lil blurb that i’ve had in the works for a while :) ik it’s mid september but this concept was just too tempting !!

inspired by a prompt on my pinterest feed:

“ let’s get you home. you’re freezing and i don’t want you catching a cold. ”

✨masterlist.✨

1k.

You love cuddling with Peter. His warm hands snug around you, his head hidden away from the world in your neck, and his gentle lips brushing your skin. It was a shelter for you; a comfort. Plus, you were the perfect size for him, and he was the perfect size for you. You fit each other in an unspoken understanding. An understanding met with touch and serenity.

When it was your turn to be the big spoon, you could easily drape your arms around him. His body flush to yours, you knew that nothing could ever harm you in the hold of your boyfriend. It’s why you always cling to him whenever you’re together. You love to grab his hand, or keep your head rested on his shoulder. You know he loves your touch just as much from the way he hugs you from behind, and presses his knee to yours whenever you’re together.

You two are almost always together, except when you’re at work, or he’s patrolling, or when you need a healthy boundary set.

This time, his absence was requested by a regulated patrol. He invited you to sleep over, just like he usually did on the weekends. You camped out in his empty room, dressed in his clothes and finishing assignments in your pastime. May was more than happy with your unseen companionship and your presence filling his bedroom; just as long as her nephew came back intact, everything was fine.

Of course, your place of residence was New York City. Anything was possible. And blizzards, in January, were more than likely. The winds were blistering, and you could feel the chill seeping through Peter’s sealed window. Even with the heat on, you felt the shivers shake your figure in the protection of Peter’s hoodie.

Before you knew it, the window opened, revealing your frostbitten boyfriend and his shaking–superhero boots. He’s all shiver–me–timbers and frigid and smiles. The sight of his smile after he takes off his mask momentarily warms the cold air bleeding in through the window, but as the winds howls louder, your trembling intensified.

You stood from your his chair, helping him inside without dragging in the snow. “Jesus, babe!” The words came out as a gasp, “You’re freezing..” You could’ve told him that his shoulders felt cold as ice through his suit, or warned him about the snowflakes freckling the shape of his curls, but you mentally argued against it. Instead, you pulled him in with a bit more urgency than before, and hastily shut the window.

And he just stood there, watching, grinning. You could tell he felt taken care of, and you hadn’t even gotten started yet. His dopey grin was something contagious, and instantly spread itself across your cheeks. You kissed his frosty nose, lacing the warmth of your fingers through the icicles of his. “C’mon, Pete, I don’t want you catching a cold.” You spoke gently, tugging him towards his closet for a change of clothes.

There was no need to address the newest drapes of purple under his eyes, or the shadows of extra crinkles and stress lines scribbling themselves on his forehead. There were no words necessary for you to pry on just how sobering the patrol truly got. It was an unspoken acknowledgement. An acknowledgement you addressed in the seconds added to the length of your hugs, and the extra kisses you’d dress his face with.

If Peter ever started the conversation, that was his decision. And when he did, you were there to listen. You were always there to support him, however he needed. Like right now, as you helped him change into warmer clothes.

He’d put on a pair of gray sweatpants, and you helped him wiggle his way into a band tee, then added the extra layer of a hoodie on top of it. Immediately afterwards, you cupped your hands over his and breathed into them, trying to gift him back some of the warmth he always provided you. And he just stood there, watching. He smiled a smile of sickly sweetness and sunshine. It was laced with a familiar glisten. A glistening of admiration.

“I love you.” He lulled, appreciatively. Peter’s figure melted towards yours, still shaking from the cold, but relaxing in your touch. His forehead rested against yours, smiling at you with his famous smile of peace and security. “I love how you take care of me. And, God..” The last word nagged on his breath so adamantly, his eyes rolled lightly with it. “I missed you.”

His lips traced a thousand words into your knuckles as he kissed them, pulling you in and holding you like it’d be the last time he’d ever be allowed to. He held you like it was his purpose, like it answered all of the questions he’d been dying to ask. His biceps against your own and fingers pressed to your back, his legs intertwined between yours as two of you took rocky steps in the stumbled direction of his bed.

The embrace wasn’t worth releasing to attempt at a safe venture to Peter’s mattress. Besides, he trusted his spidey–sense to alert him if he were about to take a tumble.

Laid and nuzzled together and husked into the warmth of his bed, you both released the weight that had been perched on your shoulders. All the crates of stress and homework and saving citizens and the outside world just beyond the walls of Peter’s bedroom suddenly vanished. All that was left was the hushed sound of Peter’s heart pressing to his chest and the faint chorus of your breaths whisked with the air.

Your fingers had a habit of drawing little shapes along the length of Peter’s body while you cuddled; tracing lines down his arm, writing out indescribable paragraphs of all that he meant to you with the tips of your fingers. He welcomed the notion by pressing kisses to your hairline and murmuring tongues of praises and appreciation into the space between you.

Body to body, huddled together, you knew there was no other place you wanted to be. Cuddled with your boyfriend was heaven; it was perfection, comfort and safe haven and eternity and shelter. Most importantly, it was yours. And no one could take it away from you.

Truly, you couldn’t think of anything better.

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shiro-s2e2-erukinzu · 3 months

Text

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 94... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

This was an absolutely delightful little chapter!! AND I LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT...!! 👌😆

Today's chapter did one of my most favorite genres in fiction in the MOST Spy × Family way possible...!! 👏😌 So let's talk about it, shall we? 👌😎

This chapter begins with Anya and Bond watching an episode of Bondman, where he is skiing away from the bad guys and Anya asks her papa Loid if they could swoosh too...!! 😆 Loid basically tells Anya no, but then she starts to get really upset, so...:

ANYA GOT WHAT SHE WANTED!! 👏😆 (Loid is such a softie for his girls...!🤭)

Then, the Forger family partake in some skiing shenanigans...!! 🤭

Poor Yor...!! 🤣 Plus, I also love seeing the WISE logo on Loid's sleeve and skis...!! 😖 It always makes me laugh whenever I find them on Twilight or on his stuff!!! 😆

After some more skiing (and even some sledding), a blizzard comes swooshing in...(Sidenote: Twilight and Yor look SUPER CUTE in the picture below!! 👇😆)

BUT NO ONE CAN LEAVE!! 😱

And when that happened, 2 thoughts went through my mind...: One, The Forgers were gonna run into the Desmonds at the ski lodge now that every member of the Desmonds have been introduced; or two, We were gonna partake in...

...A good old fashioned Murder Mystery...!!! 🕵

Now, I wasn't sure yet which of my thoughts were gonna come into fruition... But, the moment I saw all the people at the lodge and saw that there was an urban legend...:

...I KNEW that this was gonna be a Murder Mystery!! 👀 And I LOVE me a good MURDER MYSTERY...!!! 👏😆

But, you what I love more than a murder mystery...? 🤔

THESE TWO MOMENTS OF YOR FREAKING OUT FOR BEING IN THE SAME ROOM AS TWILIGHT!! 💗😍💗

My love for any TwiYor moments or crumbs will triumph over all!! 😤 (And plus, I'd probably freak out too if I had to share a room with Twilight...! 😅)

Moving on, as everyone gets comfortable, we get a glimpse at the killer and their first victim...:

Luckily, since Twilight is... Well, Twilight... He tends to the wounded man (who is still alive) and deduces that one of them must be the culprit (obviously)...!! Then, the people start to accuse Yor since she ran outside during the stabbing and THIS HAPPENED...:

KYAAAAAAAAAAA!! 😍

TWILIGHT PROTECTING YOR IS EVERYTHING TO ME!!! 💗😍💗

Though, we all know that Yor can protect herself, it always makes my melt when Twilight goes out of his way to defend his woman...!!! 💗🤗💗

Anyway, normally it would take a while before the culprit would be found out, but...:

...There is a child that can read minds and a dog that see into the future trapped in there with everyone as well, SOOO...:

AND THUS THE MYSTERY WAS SOLVED!! 👏🤣 AND ANYA HAD A BLAST...!! 😆

And that was Mission 94, AND OF COURSE I LOVED IT!! 😆 This was such a fun chapter and would have never thought that a murder mystery plot would ever happen in Spy × Family, but here we are...!! 😁

I swear, the moment I figured out that this was a murder mystery, I was like: "How the hell is this going work...?! 🤷" But, it did not disappoint!! 👏😄 This type of plot couldn't have gone in any other way in Spy × Family in my honest opinion, so I think that Endo did a great job with it!! 😁

Anyway, I had fun with this chapter and would've loved to talk about it a lot sooner... But hey, stuff happens...!! 🤷 So until the next Mission... Take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! SEE YA!! 👋😄

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venturezzz · 29 days

Text

I'm about to go on a whole rant on why I love venture as a dps.

🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨

Venture is literally a splatoon players dream, as a person who used to play alot of splatoon 3 before I switched to overwatch.

(I use a Nintendo switch and my switch pro controller, I have gyro enabled and it's set to max sensitivity [both x and y axis] and the same goes for my stick movements).

The fact that they can go underground and avoid damage, plus getting a temporary shield when using their abilities!??!?! It reminds me of the swim feature in splatoon, difference is venture can't get hurt and the ability is timed.

They're Abilities are sooooo good when it comes to crowd control especially when they exit the ground, if you charge it, it causes a shockwave!??! Dispersing a crowd while also dealing damage.

Playing them reminds me of playing splatoon with one of my favorite weapons: the explosher. But 10x better!?!? Difference is higher mobility with venture and lower range. In splatoon the explosher has high range and very low mobility making it more of a backline weapon. However the projectiles are very similar, with a direct hit and a splash/explosion. Both weapons are great with crowd control in different ways, with the explosher you can fire projectiles from a distance, the projectiles explode on impact dispersing a crowd, pushing the other team back in order to regain health(it takes about 2 direct hits to kill). Venture's ability, burrow, definitely can help with crowd control by dealing damage, knocking back opponents and disturbing the momentum of the enemy team. In overwatch venture's weapon(smart excavator) takes about 3 hits to kill most characters(not tanks) without using combos. Both weapons are on the slower side, with a delayed hit and slow firing rate however both weapons make up for it when it comes to damage.

Because venture is so mobile it makes perfect sense for them to be melee/short ranged, again I love the crowd control aspect they have! I think blizzard also did a great job at making them balanced! Even though their abilities seem op, there are multiple ways to counter their attacks, even their ultimate can be countered by either a shield(as long as its on the ground) or by jumping(like you would a jump rope or the special: wave breaker from splatoon[you jump over the waves to avoid damage]). With venture as long as you look for the signs that they're around you have a chance at countering them or getting out of the way. When venture travels underground it shows exactly where they are, and when they charge up an exit you can clearly see how big the impact will be, making it easy to avoid as long as your character is quick enough.

In my opinion venture is a really fun character to play, honestly they have to be my current favorite. I found that their abilities are really easy to learn and even combo, if you like melee characters that are also good with crowd control and are very mobile.

#overwatch #venture overwatch #splatoon #splat3 #gyroscope #venture #eating rocks #overwatch nintendo switch #overwatch 2

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undercoverpena · 9 months

Text

rips in perfection

francisco morales x f!reader | frankie morales masterlist

summary: you just shine your light with determination through the cracks he allowed you to see. lips blowing away cobwebs, fingers wrapping around door handles inside of him that you throw open and step through without fear. you make my days better, morales.

word count: 2.7k warnings: angst, but with happy ending. mention of wound on reader (head and palm). mention (blink and you miss) nod to prev. drug use and ptsd. sad boy frankie not thinking he deserves the girl. jo wrote this because she's twisty inside. an: as the warning states, i angst'd close to the sun. but it ends happy because i'm incapable of not doing so.

He knows it means something that you called him—that you allow him through your front door.

Frankie’s eyes immediately catch sight of your wound—spotting the clotting scarlet and dried cerise. The rip in otherwise perfection that you attempt to hide with a kitchen towel around your palm.

It’s tugged from you, shutting your front door with his heel as he tries to eye the deepness of the cut. The one which has, at one stage, made tears track down your cheeks—creating a road of pain in your skin.

You, as to be expected, pretend to feign indifference that he’s here. Forcing it up, all a front.

He knows he’s the one making you do it.

Your ego-bruised, now matching the hurt that blooms under your skin and around your eye. It’s the sole reason he doesn’t push, just follows when you turn on your heel. Forcing him to watch helplessly as you try, struggle and fail to jump onto your centre island. Frankie only dares step forward when you shoot him a glare—it’s a toxic cocktail of warning and pleading.

If he has to choose a battle, he knows which one he’d rather be maimed by. Choosing to be burnt by your stare, then risk a further onslaught of a blizzard cast his way as he helps lift you. Turning gentle when you accept his invitation to see, sliding fingers around your wrist, index finger over skin—wanting to whisper an apology when you wince.

But he swallows it, letting it join the other unspoken words that sit in the depths of him. The ones decaying and rotting. All swallowed back.

Frankie tells himself you’d think they were empty anyway—bitterness simmering like a broth inside you. Plus, he’s sure it wouldn’t have sounded right from him. Words had never been his forte, his expertise. Least of all when it came to you.

They always balled up, messily clumping, falling all out of order between loose fingers and delivered with carelessness. Even when he plans them out, mentally shoving doubts and insecurities aside to say something comforting.

It doesn’t matter now. There are no soft eyes or clumped words. Instead, wave-like worry is crashing against him. Taking in your appearance, how you look unsteady. Weak. Dizzy.

“Ay. ¿Estás bien?”

He braces for your tongue.

The brilliant way it manages to both burn, mark and leave people cold when you spit words at whoever has upset you.

It’s the first thing that made him smile when it came to you.

Even with Benny stuck to your side, Santiago just behind you, you still have the man hitting on you in the bar embarrassingly storming away—before switching back into a softer, less sharp-edged version of yourself to reply to Benny’s earlier question.

Now he’s experiencing that same sharpness. You’re frustrated, annoyed—cross, and livid. A sea of synonyms, but none quite hit the mark.

You don’t snap at him, though, just let four words crack through the silence, all shaky, and trembling: “Me duele la cabeza….”

It’s like you command him, the way his eyes flick up. Your eyes all soft, the harshness ebbed away by the situation—the edges of your aura more welcoming than it’s been for weeks.

Frankie had spotted the swelling when he arrived, knowing every inch of you like you’re moulded in his mind—painted on the back of his eyelids, seeing you even when he blinks.

It's easy to slide his hand up, pads gliding over your neck, feeling you swallow as he brushes over your jaw, cheek—turning you to look over the swelling, how it’s rounding out, beginning to change.

He’s soft when he whispers that you need stitches in your hand, ice for your head, blinking at him. Letting his words hang before forcing yourself to nod—pointing to a box on the counter, the one you’d likely gotten out the moment he told you he was on his way.

Your voice all hoarse, words catching on teeth as you tell him about the stuff inside the green box, the kit you’d pulled together—the sharp needle and thread, alcohol wipes and bandages.

Only as he rummages, casting a quick glance at you, does he see the veil fall. Spots how your face twists in pain, lashes furiously blinking back tears, your thumb pushing at the skin on your palm—leaving half-moon marks, like a trail around the split skin.

“Thought you’d have called Pope.”

Your eyes fall, land on a spot on the ground—living there, fixated as you bite the inside of your cheek. Letting it stew and seethe.

“I did. Didn’t answer.”

It’s cold, lacking emotion. But it lands with a punch all the same.

He hates how his heart plummets. Becomes more determined to rummage for nothing forcibly—just so he can choose to keep his head bent, the beak of his hat hiding the discomfort undoubtedly stitched into his face.

Because it’s his fault, the reason the two of you keep taking chunks out of one another. The dance the two of you have done, the closeness he’s allowed to bridge.

One minute good friends, next moment wrestling with feelings he's too afraid to say. Then he overcompensates, egging you on to flirt with a man at the bar, with the next second wanting to throttle anyone who looked at you.

It’s hard to unknot when it changed—when he found it difficult to rip his eyes from you, and you had rooted yourself in his life.

It could have been somewhere over beers or under the fairy lights at the Miller house—eyes shimmering, smile growing. It also could have been when the stars were too pretty on that camping trip, when you’d moved your sleeping bag closer to him, sleeping under rustling leaves and blinking stars—the two of you waking curled up together, realising for the rocks and sticks in his spine, he’s never slept better.

It was sealed, all the same, when he’d tugged you down the alleyway, beer tasting on your lips as brick cuts into his hand, his other hand gripping you close—almost bruising. Lost in feeling heaven collide, his world shifting, your mouth moving with his under the flickering bar light, kissing you as though to tell you that you're all he needs.

That’s when it all slid into one, a hot pot of things he can’t discern—a collection of emotions too complex to ascertain.

You didn’t try to be what he needed, just tried to show kindness—all-second nature, undeserving of a fuck up like him.

“You gonna stitch me or kiss me, Francisco?”

Your voice cuts through his thoughts, slicing and ripping memories in two. There’s an edge to it, your words—one that makes him snort—shaking his head as he returns to you, taking your hand gently but leaving no room to fight him.

Frankie doesn’t ask if you want him to stay. He just stays.

Once stitched, he helps you off the counter, tells you to change—that he’ll begin cleaning up your accident.

Between the third and fourth stitch, you’d told him how a vegetable caused you to slip, pot and glass shards shattering in the chaos.

He brushes each of them until he’s sure no piece could ever find your bare foot, then he wipes the crimson from your grout. Only as he lifts his head to stand does he see the edge of the counter, the one at fault for the growing swelling along your brow line.

An additional reason for the silence your usually acidic tongue fills. It taking a rest, likely as you will your brain to stop thumping.

He runs his knuckles along it, gritting his jaw, letting his feelings throb in his chest. The ones he’s felt for so long, they’re harder to control—fighting, desperately, to get out and greet your ear.

Even though he convinces himself you deserve better, there's no one else for him.

What he wants and what you deserve a conflicting push and pull inside of him that have forced awkwardness and silence to take up space in between you.

You deserve someone more whole, without failure and a record to go with it.

Even if Frankie knows it would be easy to love you—just like it is to breathe. It's part of him, his affection for you. Steadily threaded through his muscles and bones.

But he can’t even meet his own eyes in the mirror when he dresses, never mind hold yours. He’s forever greeted by the parts of him forever changed by the things he’s seen—the things he’s done. The parts altered and desperate for rest—the entire reason white powder greeted his nostrils, to begin with.

He was, and is, broken and ruined. All poisoned by memories of orders and decisions, pouring down rain and the sound of Benny shouting for Tom.

Not that you see it.

You just shine your light with determination through the cracks he allowed you to see. Lips blowing away cobwebs, fingers wrapping around door handles inside of him that you throw open and step through without fear.

You make my days better, Morales.

Those words had fallen with ease as you grasped his wrist in your hand, leaving him with a smile that lingered like smoke until it faded in the loud bar. The key to the lock, the thing which melted the chains and made him suggest taking you home, stealing a moment where he could live a fairytale of being able to enjoy you.

He supposes it’s why he came—rushed, in fact.

You’re so deeply woven in him, have been for so long, he’s not sure how to ever untangle you from him. For as long as he’s known you, you’ve held him together without even knowing. Sometimes, more than he wanted you to.

A friend of a friend, a girl who joined the group one night and never left. Etching your name amongst the friends in a way not too dissimilar to how you’d carved your initials into his heart.

It’s why he tries to rip out his feelings. Attempted to burn them, bury them.

Endeavoured to be reborn coated in the failings and vermillion he’s been painted in so many times. Let the voices mount, allow the illusions win—that the shadowed parts of his mind create.

You clear your throat, looking at him, hovering in the doorway in an oversized tee he recognises as his and a pair of fluffy socks. You’re fidgeting, pupils having swallowed all and any colour—no hope or pain living there.

You’re good at concealing, able to shift and perfectly apply an expression that shields him from your thoughts or feelings, as though attempting to convince him you’re fine.

You’re not.

It thrums in the air and needles him.

Has been doing so since he listened to you try not to shatter when he left that day. Even if he wanted nothing more than to turn back around, marry his lips back to yours, and feel your breaths against his neck.

You didn’t ask him to stay. He didn’t ask to either.

Standing there in a robe, fragile and questioning what it is you'd done wrong, not knowing (because he never explained it) that all you were at fault for was falling for him. That you'd bonded yourself to ruin and rubble somehow still shaped like a person.

If you've figured it out, you don't acknowledge it. You're smart, though. Aware.

Your teeth biting the inside of your cheek as the two of you allow awkwardness to bubble, the silence plucking the tension until it thickens and becomes suffocated.

All because he accepted your invitation that night, instead of declining when he dropped you home.

Spent the evening and morning showing you what he’s felt for months, a year. Feeling it given back to him, hearing it in the way you pleaded for more and dug your heels into his spine. Please, Frankie. Please. All enthralled in fantasy that was ruined by morning light that illuminated that look in your eyes.

The one you're wearing now. All bewitched and full of adoration because you love him, likely the same as he loves you.

It hurt him, too, to walk away. So much so it irks him on good days and frustrates him on bad ones. It merges with his annoyance at your stubbornness, the ones he’s forced you to have.

You blink, try to hide from him. Conceal yourself. Try to survive in the watery current of feelings you won’t spill to him again. Opting instead to drown in their storm—the story you told yourself that isn’t anything close to the fable it should have been.

It tugs at him as he moves closer—the air-tight, constricting around the two of you. His eyes take in every inch of your features—awaiting the micro-expressions, the ones you try to keep back from him.

He shouldn’t curl into your touch, but he does so all the same when light, fairy touches brush his cheek. When you shuffle closer, leaving a gap of barely anything between the two of you.

It would be easy, less complicated, to kiss you. To surrender, lay down his objections and give in.

He doesn’t.

The vinyl playing in his head, the one swirling with lyrics about what you deserve, the life you truly want, the type of man who could give it to you. The harmony sang by Santi, the backing whispered by his doubts.

“Francisco…”

The way you say his name undoes something.

Each syllable given a chance to stand on its own as it slips into the air with such ease, like an instrumental sound that hopes to compete with the music in his head.

“You don’t love me?”

He sighs, soft—barely discernible. “You know I do.”

You snort, tinged in annoyance and pain different from the one in your hand and head. “Still believe I deserve better?”

“No lo creo, lo sé.”

Something flickers, trips over your face. Akin to sorrow and disappointment—heartache.

“Saying it in Spanish doesn’t lessen that you’re choosing for me, Morales.”

He knows.

Realises it’s unfair, cruel and an injustice.

He wants nothing more than to choose you, to let you in. A carnal need rising almost to do so, born from continuous want and grown in worry. Images still present on the back of his lids with each blink, the way your voice had sounded on the phone, the way you’d looked at him when he arrived—the way your expression contorted when he dug the needle in. It all nicked him, tiny slices through him he’d bear for a while.

“…Frankie.”

Silence.

He lets it bloom.

Your veil is almost translucent as you stare, pecking at him, pushing him without touching or speaking.

You’re too good, too kind—it is almost brutish that the world stuck an arrow in you with his name on it.

“You really call Pope?”

You swallow, telling him without speaking, before you shake your head.

He snorts. Takes the words in, chews them—lets it dilute and inflate his heart as it thumps, and thumps.

“I should have asked you to stay,” you murmur.

He swallows. “I should have asked to stay.”

It’s that reason alone why he takes off his cap, throws it on the counter before he turns to look at you. His mask gone, ridden. Yours falling, landing somewhere at your feet.

Frankie pulls you to his lips, somewhat soft but more intentional. It’s needy, but reserved, awaiting you to melt into him so he knows he can slide the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip and earn himself a whimper. Begin healing the parts he’s self-inflicted by choosing avoidance over acceptance.

But before he can do that, he wants to heal you. Kiss each edge of you that bore pain from his faux indifference and cold shoulder; each muscle that remained taut because of his excuse that now sounded weak, as the vinyl in his mind came to a stop, vanishing from the player as though it never existed.

Because with you, like this—albeit without a swollen temple and a stitched palm—things make sense.

You make sense.

Just like you always have.

AN: some call it range going from joyous to angst, i call it ✨ sad girl jo

everyone say a huge thanks to @guyfieriii for once again letting me blurt pain at her, and she not only drinks it up, but urges me to make it hurt more. thank you for always collecting my tears and then handing me them back so i can sprinkle them over my work.

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales triple frontier #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #Frankie morales x y/n

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