#BUT consider. maybe he'd change his mind after everything calms down. also he'd make a good dad imo 😭

[acealistair]

ough i've been trying to hold off till experiencing the end of the game to commit to this headcanon (so i could see if canon would even support) it but i can't get the idea of gale and cosette founding a magic school and teaching kids out of my head 🥺 also adopting arabella and yenna

[logosbot-tm-fics]

Soooo...I'm back-

Enjoy!

Take My Tea With Formaldehyde

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Chapter 15: Feeling Lighthearted

(More beneath the cut)

It was like a breath of fresh air to discover that things could get easier. Maybe it shouldn’t surprise him. Maybe it should have been obvious that he didn’t have to live in this quiet sort of misery any more, but it still feels as though it took Mumbo by surprise. It surprised him that doing things was easier. That it was easier to exist and actually feel like a human.

Having a clean apartment felt like a restart. The same way it feels like a restart when you finally shower after being sick, as if cleaning out the dirt had also cleaned up his mind. Getting back into routines, going to work, and taking care of himself was strangely easy. As much as he felt relieved about how simple it was, it also bugged him slightly. Things had changed, and it barely felt like it.

Maybe that was for the better.

As the days passed, he discovered small things that were suddenly a lot more convenient. Like finding stuff in the flat. Before, he had to go through piles of belongings that seemed to appear out of nowhere, but now everything was where it was supposed to be.

It was easier to get the energy to do the dishes, when he only had a small amount to do. Same went for doing laundry.

He had stopped sleeping in front of the TV, and had moved back into his bedroom. No longer did the blue light keep him awake, no longer was it his only company and, somehow, falling asleep in a clean room went quicker than in a messy one.

~

It was most likely not just the clean flat that made him feel better. Sure, it had definitely helped a lot, and had made day to day life a lot less overwhelming, but other things had to have helped as well.

The thing that had probably helped the most, the thing that felt like it was going to make the biggest difference, was that Mumbo was finally getting a therapist. It had been a long time coming, when he really reflected on the way that his mental state had declined so dramatically over the past months, but he hadn’t been ready. Maybe he still wasn’t, not to take that step by himself, at least.

Luckily, he had Iskall.

Iskall hadn't nagged him or forced him to get one. But they gently reminded him that it was an option whenever the opportunity arose. They helped him look, when he finally started to consider it, and reminded him to take a break when searching for options became too overwhelming. It took a little bit, but, eventually, the pair found one that seemed right.

Mumbo thought that it was a bit funny, in a way, that just trying to get help could be overwhelming. It’s just odd really, he would chuckle, that your mind wants to fight against getting the help you need.

That strange urge to run and hide from the help he was seeking was the clearest when Mumbo almost backed out of the first appointment. His legs had felt like jello, knees shaking like he was wearing shorts in a snowstorm. He hadn't been able to wipe the sweat off his palms, and his stomach had made him feel like throwing up what little food he'd been able to eat that day.

It was frightening, he had realized as he bit on the inside of his cheek. Getting help felt terrifying.

Hell, what would happen if it didn't help? What if the therapist thought that he was being silly? What if it turned out that he actually didn't have any issues, and functioned perfectly well, and was just making up stuff for attention? He must be blowing it out of proportion, right?

He was stuck on the kitchen floor for a little while, trying to force himself to calm down. He had sat down in a corner of the kitchen, a cup of tea he'd been meaning to drink cooling on the counter, his phone in hand, held with a desperate grip.

Mumbo chewed nervously and frantically on the inside of his cheek as he tried his hardest to breathe. He tried to run through all the various breathing exercises that he’d been learning, but nothing seemed to work. By the time that he bit at his cheek hard enough to draw blood, he finally managed to unlock his phone to call Iskall.

“Hallo?” Their voice erupted from the speaker, crackly and warped. “Iskall speaking.”

This was stupid. Childish even, Iskall surely would think so too. Mumbo's mind was telling him to hang up, he shouldn't have called. How can a grown man not get himself to go to the scheduled appointment? He was utterly ridiculous.

“Hi,” he forced out, blinking back the tears that were surging forward at the awful weight of his thoughts. “Um, it's Mumbo, I'm really sorry for calling, but I'm kinda, sorta- uh- on the verge of a breakdown?” Mumbo tried to be proud of himself for pushing through the feeling of hang-up-god-dammit-you-are-being-ridiculous that was spreading rapidly through his body and mind, but it was too hard. Everything was just too hard.

“Oh-” Iskall replied after what was probably only a couple of seconds, but still managed to feel so sudden that Mumbo almost jumped out of his skin. From the concern in their voice, he could vividly picture an Iskall with furrowed brows and downturned lips, and his hands only shook harder at the knowledge that he was causing them such concern. “Are you… hm, is there anything I can do to help?”

Mumbo nodded, fully aware that they couldn't see him. It made him feel even more stupid. “Yeah, uh- this is stupid, I'm sorry, but could you please come over?” He gasped, his chest tight. “I mean you don't have to, especially not if you're busy, but it would make everything just a tiny bit easier. I'm really sorry, you don't have to, I'm just panicking, it's silly, sorry.”

He heard Iskall let out a small, kind laugh, something so reassuring that he could’ve melted right then and there. “Hey, don't apologize, I asked if I could help. I'm currently not doing anything too important either way, so…” They went silent for a second. “I should probably be able to be at your place in about uh, forty minutes, I think? Is that okay? I just have a few things to finish up before leaving.”

Relief flooded Mumbo, rushing through him like ocean waves, calming after a storm. "Yeah, yeah, that'd be fine."

"You sure? I could maybe get to your place sooner, but-"

"No no, it's fine. I can wait," Mumbo responded, breathing calmer.

“Okay, I'll be there in a bit then,” Iskall replied, their voice even and calm. “Bye for now.”

“Bye.”

If Mumbo had to be honest with himself, he absolutely hated waiting. It usually paralyzed him, left him in a terrible stasis of sitting around and overthinking every possibility. However, this time it almost felt nice to have some time to gather himself before Iskall showed up.

During the forty minutes he spent waiting, he spent five of those sitting on the kitchen floor. Then he spent ten minutes laying on the floor instead, when it got difficult to breathe again. It took him a while to be able to stand up, his legs still feeling far too weak to even try, and he had lost track of the time when he eventually managed to get to his feet.

He took it slow, breathed in and out carefully, and leant on the counter with a shaky step forward. It wasn’t much, but still, he felt just that little bit better.

Mumbo glanced at the clock as he put his, now cold, cup of tea in the microwave, silently setting the timer and watching the seconds count down. He breathed in time with that too, using the boxy numbers as a reference for each inhale.

He flinched again when it beeped, despite his eagle-eyed focus on the timer, before slowly pulling the steaming cup out from inside. The last few minutes before Iskall’s arrival were spent sitting at the table just cradling the warm cup. He still felt too anxious to be able to drink it, but just holding it and letting the warmth put feeling back into his fingers was relaxing.

Then finally, the doorbell rang. A wave of silence filled Mumbo's head, his mind calming down a lot more. He had company now, Iskall was right outside. They’d listen to his worries, they’d take care of him.

Still a bit shaky, Mumbo made his way to the front door.

~

Iskall ended up sitting at the table with Mumbo for a while, as Mumbo vented his anxiety about the appointment. They didn't judge him, nor tell him that his anxiety was irrational, even though it surely was, they just listened in silence.

“You know, you don't have to go to therapy if you don't want to,” they said when Mumbo eventually ran out of steam, slumping back into his seat like a marionette with its strings cut.

He couldn’t stop himself from staring wide-eyed at the other for a few long moments, just watching Iskall’s expression, trying to understand exactly what they thought of him. “I-I know,” Mumbo settled on eventually. “I just…it feels like it would help. Even though I'm worried that it might not, or that I'm just exaggerating how I'm feeling, I feel like I should try.”

Iskall hummed in understanding. “I see, well…if you want - just as a suggestion - I could go with you?” They leant back in their chair as they took a sip of their tea. “I'd wait outside, then we could go for a coffee afterwards, and you can decide then if you'd like to go to another appointment.”

They paused for a moment, giving Mumbo a breath to process what they were suggesting, before pushing on.

“That way, you’ve given it a go. You’ve felt what it's like, and you can properly figure out if it's for you.” They nodded confidently, setting their teacup down with a quiet clink. “Also, it’d give you the opportunity to see if the therapist we’ve found is right for you or not.”

Mumbo turned the words over in his mind with a thoughtful hum. It seemed like a good idea, really. It did, in fact, make him feel better about the entire thing, and suddenly he realized just how badly he had been craving that familiar company. He hadn't even realized that he had felt like he had to go, despite not being fully sure if he wanted to; the thought of having a familiar face there to wave him in felt like a godsend.

It was like everything was finally clicking into place, and Mumbo hadn’t even realized that he was smiling.

He grinned up at Iskall, the warmth of his own tea seeping pleasantly into his hands. “Yeah,” Mumbo said, and it sounded almost confident. “Yeah, that'd be amazing.”

~

In the end, his therapist turned out to be lovely. She had a certain calm, understanding energy about her that made Mumbo relax almost as soon as he stepped into her office.

The entire situation still felt a bit weird, definitely, but that weirdness wasn’t so uncomfortable anymore. Instead, it felt almost exciting. He was glad that he was trying something new.

It just felt nice to talk to someone who didn't know him, and therefore wouldn't say things to just please him. Someone who listened just to listen, without Mumbo feeling as if he was a burden for talking. It was a bit anxiety inducing, since it was his first time, but it felt like that anxiety would disappear in the future, and by the end of the session, Mumbo felt a lot lighter.

“So?” Iskall asked with a smile, as the pair of them walked out of the building together.

“I'll go back next week,” Mumbo replied. “It was a lot nicer than I thought. I think it might genuinely help me a lot.”

Iskall smiled, the sort of smile that spreads so uncontrollably across your lips until the corners of your mouth ache. “That's good to hear,” they said, and they looked so happy. They looked so glad. “Now, how about that coffee?”

Mumbo only laughed in response. It might've just been his head making things up, but some part of him was so certain that smile looked proud.

It felt nice, to make his friend proud.

~

Another thing that helped was knowing that he had people who cared about him. Yes, he had his siblings and Iskall, but he had other people as well. They had fallen to the wayside a little in the midst of everything that had happened, a fact that Mumbo couldn’t help but feel guilty for, but that hadn’t seemed to change much. In fact, it felt exactly the same as it did before when Tango messaged him to invite him to hang out.

He said that he was planning a small get together, and had wondered if Mumbo was interested in joining. It would be him, Mumbo, Impulse, as well as a few of Tango's other friends: Zedaph, Skizz, and Cub.

The first thing Mumbo felt was a shockwave of anxiety. He couldn't say no to such a kind offer, but what if they didn't want him there? What if they just invited him out of courtesy? It would be out of character, sure, but he couldn’t blame them for not wanting to spend time with him. Especially when he had been so absent for the past few months.

But… something about that didn’t feel right.

So Mumbo took a step back, just like his therapist had once recommended to him. He took a second to breathe, to drink some water and refresh himself before looking at the message again. And, this time, as he looked over the first text that had been sent between them in weeks, (a text that very clearly wasn’t trying to pressure him or force him into anything; a text that left his options open), Mumbo knew that it was genuine.

He was a little ashamed of the surprise he felt at that, but it felt like a step in the right direction either way. Mumbo hadn’t ever really thought about it, but in the back of his mind there was a constant feeling that people - his friends, his colleagues, everyone - disliked him.

Getting invited to something and pushing past that feeling… it suddenly meant a lot more. It felt nice to know that people wanted to see him. It felt nice to know that people cared about him. Even if they weren't close, and even if they weren't Gr-

He pushed that thought away, good mood suddenly soured.

He should probably reply to Tango.

~

Mumbo felt a bit awkward as he stood outside of Tango's apartment, one shaking finger hovering above the doorbell. He knew that they wouldn't mind him being there, since he had been invited, but the muffled laughter sounding from inside made his heart twist.

Anxiety crept up his spine, whispering horrible promises into his ears. He really didn’t want to ruin the joy inside the flat, and a part of him worried that he would, whilst another stubbornly argued against it. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there like that, paralyzed under the frozen grasp of his fear, in half a mind to just turn around and leave. It might’ve been hours, though that was incredibly unlikely.

He only managed to snap out of his anxious daze when his phone pinged, a sharp noise that rang in his ears like the most obnoxious of yelling. He shook out his sweaty hands and took a deep breath, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Iskall’s in the back of his mind, telling him that he wasn’t alone. That it was okay to be here, and that it was okay if he needed to leave early. He was taking this at his own pace, and that’s alright.

He was welcome here, Mumbo reminded himself as he pressed the doorbell. He was visiting his friends, and they would be happy to see him.

It only took a second for the door to open, as if Tango had run for it the moment that Mumbo rang. He was laughing as he opened the door, his cheeks red with a full, rosy sort of happiness, and he beamed as he saw Mumbo waiting there.

“Dude!” Tango exclaimed, throwing his arms out for a hug. “I'm so happy that you decided to join, come on inside!”

Mumbo smiled in response, leaning into his hold with a deep inhale, before the pair were walking further into the apartment.

Tango handed him a hanger out of nowhere, gesturing to a rail where Mumbo could leave his coat. “Feel free to just leave that there. There's snacks in the kitchen if you want any, and we’re just hanging out in the living room for now!” He explained, hands waving around all the while. Mumbo responded with a nod.

“Awesome. Now, I gotta make sure that–” A loud crash interrupted whatever he was saying, and Mumbo watched a little dazedly as Tango’s brows shot up like something straight out of a cartoon, and he yelled, “Zedaph! I swear to God, if you–”

Whatever else he was trying to say was lost to another echoing crash, before Tango was sprinting back down the hall without so much as a second glance. Laughter erupted as the man disappeared around the corner, and Mumbo took another deep breath at the sudden chaos.

Well, he found himself relaxing. Might as well grab some food.

~

The energy in the living room was comfortable and infectious. As soon as Mumbo had sat down on the couch, a bag of crisps tucked under his arm, he got pulled into playing a board game.

As it turned out, Cub had brought a friend along as well, and Tango quickly decided that it would work best if they played in three separate teams. On one team it was Tango and Zedaph, another was Impulse and Skizz, and Mumbo ended up on a team with Cub, and his friend, Scar.

The first few rounds went pretty well, with Scar showing himself to be particularly adept at scamming everyone else out of points, including his own teammates, somehow. They quickly ended up in the lead, whilst Tango and Zed were second, and Impulse and Skizz were last. Lighthearted bickering was quick to follow between the two losing teams, which quickly distracted them from the game.

Mumbo silently watched them, his heart yet again twinged as it reminded him of the dynamic he, Iskall, and Grian used to have. He missed it. He missed it a lot, actually. He wished he could somehow turn back time, to before-

“Don't mind them,” Cub cut through the mayhem suddenly, as if noticing how Mumbo started to get lost in his thoughts. “The four of them have been close since high school, so they're bound to get a bit distracted,” he explained with a sharp grin.

“I can tell, they all seem to share a brain cell,” Mumbo smiled.

Cub leant back with a hearty laugh, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I suppose they do.”

Quiet fell between them then, but Mumbo found it wasn’t uncomfortable. He didn’t have any qualms with sitting back to watch the chaos unfold, and breaking the silence didn’t feel intimidating either. Something about that felt… new.

“How long have you known them?” Mumbo asked quickly, trying not to dwell on it as he turned to face Cub.

“Hm, not that long, really. I met Impulse in university, and he introduced me to Tango and Zed within a week. Apparently Zed was even on the same course as me, I had just never noticed until after I’d met him.” He shrugged. “Skizz showed up a little while later, since he lived in another city. So- not long. Scar, on the other hand…”

At that, Scar leaned into their conversation in a way that told Mumbo he thought he was being inconspicuous, like a cat who thinks you can’t see them because they’re moving slowly. He really wasn’t.

“I've known Impulse for a while!” He started. “Honestly, I can’t remember where we met. One second I didn't know him, and then, bam! I had known him for years.” He laughed, something buttery and pleasant. “He must've introduced me to the others as well, except for Skizz, I hadn't met him until now. Actually–”

As Scar kept talking, Mumbo found he couldn't help but to listen. Something about him was magnetizing, a sort of natural charisma that made him impossible to dislike. It was so reminiscent of- of-

“Well, anyway, that’s how we snuck a rooster into our final!” Scar concluded, before turning his attention to Mumbo. “Mumbo! A little birdy told me that you're a fan of Ariana?”

Apparently, at some point during Scar’s rambling, the others managed to drag Cub into their weird argument, leaving Scar and Mumbo to their conversation. He had barely noticed when it happened, but now he was cursing being left alone. It felt like his heart had stopped, blood rushing in his ears as the world around them fell deathly silent.

Memories of the Fridays spent on his couch, watching videos together with Grian clouded his mind like smoke. Memories of them laughing together, of them sitting in comfortable silence together.

“Uh, yes, I am,” Mumbo coughed, trying to get that smoke out of his lungs as quickly as he could. “I-I’ve been into her music for a while now, I've followed her for a few years. Which is honestly pretty funny, since my childhood friend, Iskall, is her manager. So, um, yeah.” He smiled awkwardly at Scar, clearing his throat again.

“Oh!” Scar exclaimed, something lighting up in his eyes, “I guess it really is a small world!” He laughed again, clapping his hands together excitedly.

Mumbo honestly felt a bit confused now. “What do you mean?” He asked.

“Oh, well, I know Iskall as well! I happen to be Ariana's bodyguard, actually,” he replied casually, as if he were talking about the weather. As if everyone worked with the most well-known celebrity in the country.

Mumbo's brain was absolutely whirring with the new information, as he filed through all the information that he knew about Ariana, (which, unsurprisingly, was quite a lot.)

“Oh!” He gasped as he recalled the name of Ariana’s head of security. “You're Scar Goodtimes?” He didn’t really mean to ask, but the question slipped out with such ease that Mumbo couldn’t even find it in himself to be ashamed.

“The one and only!” Scar said. “So you know my full name, but didn't recognise me?” He asked curiously.

Mumbo blushed. “Well, I’m rather face blind, if I’m honest… I always have been! I've seen photos of you, but you tend to be dressed in suits and sunglasses, so, uh, sorry. If you hadn't said anything I probably wouldn't have realized.”

“Ah, I see,” Scar nodded with a strict understanding. “That makes sense!”

They were quiet for a second as Mumbo processed the information, sifting through the things that he knew about Scar’s work in his mind. Then, he spoke again, “I, er, I hope you don't mind me asking, but… what is she like? I only know what Iskall’s told me, but they haven’t said much.”

Scar looked thoughtful, mulling over the question for a minute or two before he started, “Well, it's a bit hard to say! She's very sweet, and polite. One of the most humble celebrities I've worked with, that’s for sure, but other than that, I don't actually know much.” The man looked as if he was debating something then, so Mumbo stayed quiet, even as his words came to a stop.

“... She struggles a bit with her mental health from time to time,” Scar eventually seemed to decide on. “And she's a very private lady. The person who knows the most about her is definitely Iskall, and I don't know either of them that well, unfortunately.”

Mumbo nodded, the answer not coming as a surprise. “Well, thank you, anyway. I couldn’t help but to ask, I must admit that I'm rather curious about her.”

“Ah, no worries! I would've asked as well if the roles were reversed.” Scar replied with a smile. “Well, while I might not know much about Ariana, I certainly found out quite a lot about roosters. Let me tell you–”

Scar started talking again, and as Mumbo listened he found himself watching the rest of the group. He couldn't help but miss his own, the ones that were as close to him as these friends were to each other. He couldn't help but to miss Grian.

He felt an urge to text him, to ask him how he was doing, to beg him to please come over again, can we just talk?

Mumbo pushed the urge away as much as he could.

~

After his visit at Tango's, Mumbo found himself missing freshly cooked meals. Impulse had cooked up a feast later into the evening, a wide spread of vegetables and meats, all seasoned and baked to perfection, and even the thought of them now made his mouth water.

He’d been living off of instant ramen and frozen meals for too long, and it left his fridge and cabinets far too empty for comfort. Instead of being filled with food that he could actually use, it was filled with random jars he didn't remember buying, sauces he never used, pickled things, and random packets that looked a bit too suspicious. The vegetables he did have didn't look fresh at all, and also, where the hell did all these tubes come from?

He sighed heavily, desperately wanting to put off buying food to another day, since it was pouring outside. He would rather stay at home, drink some tea and watch whatever crap was on TV, but then his stomach growled again and he remembered Impulse’s cooking, and… damn it, he should go to the store.

After all, what would Iskall say if they saw his fridge now? What would they think? What would Gr-

Mumbo shook his head, snapping out of the train of thought. He didn't want to think about him, but ever since he was at Tango's, he had started to pop up in his head more and more. He sighed, waited for his mind to clear a bit. It hurt too much to think about him, about the things that he might say.

So, instead of thinking, Mumbo grabbed some reusable bags and sat down at the kitchen table. He very pointedly avoided looking at Grian’s seat as he made a list of the things he needed.

He read through the list a few times, double checked that he’d written tea down, and glanced through the cabinets one last time to see if he needed anything else.

When he couldn't find anything missing, Mumbo grabbed his coat, pulled on his boots, and started towards the store.

~

Half of the time, Mumbo found grocery shopping to be the most dull, boring and uninteresting thing on the planet, and at other times, he found it therapeutic to walk through the isles listening to music, crossing things off from the list.

This time, it was definitely the latter.

That was another one of those things that had made life a little bit better, to find joy in ordinary chores and mundane tasks. There was something pleasant about doing what he needed to, about taking care of himself, about being able to do small things that he would have previously dreaded with a smile.

Somehow, his motivation for cooking a decent meal didn’t disappear while he was out grocery shopping, and he even left with a solid meal plan scribbled down on the back of his shopping list. He walked out of the doors with two hefty bags and a pleasant lightness on his shoulders even so, and, in his good mood, Mumbo decided that he’d walk the nicer route home. It was longer, sure, but it let him wind through some lovely little side-streets and a vibrant park or two.

He stumbled on a cute bakery as he walked, a small, independent looking store with fresh bread lining the windows. The scent from the bakery was absolutely heavenly, and he couldn't stop himself from going back to it, just to buy some bread. Sure, he had bread he'd bought at the grocery store and buying more things only made the bags harder to carry, but bakery bread was always a lot better, so it was worth it.

So, Mumbo ended up with bags that were heavy, filled to the absolute brim with fresh vegetables and ripe fruits, as well as two loaves of freshly baked bread. He had to stop a few times on the walk home to let his arms relax, otherwise he'd end up with aching arms and his food would most definitely end up getting dropped on the street. Yet, it didn't change how content he felt.

Even if it was still raining, even if his arms ached, and even if he had started to long for a cup of hot tea. He still felt content.

Then, Mumbo turned the corner onto his street.

He was nearly home, he could see his apartment building from where he stood, but that did nothing to stop the grocery bags from clattering out of his loose grip. The bread fell out, its beautiful crust soaked in a puddle on the pavement, and the punnet of apples came loose, fruit rolling across the ground. All of those good things were ruined in an instant, all of the things that he had been looking forward to were nothing more than a smushed pile against gray concrete.

But none of that mattered, and Mumbo wasn’t watching as eggs smashed and vegetables bruised. Instead, he was slack, staring straight ahead with weak, shaking hands.

Because right across the street, on the familiar, uneven doorstep of Mumbo’s apartment block, stood Grian.

He was rocking back and forth on his heels, his back turned to the street. Even so, Mumbo could see that he was twisting his hands anxiously, picking at the skin around his nails. It was almost picturesque, the way that he stood there on the empty side of the street, as if everyone had cleared out to give the two of them this moment - though, realistically, most people were probably just inside because of the rain.

Mumbo couldn’t care about the loss of his groceries as he blinked owlishly at Grian, frozen in place. He couldn't really believe his eyes as he took in every detail of the man’s silhouette, trying to convince himself that it wasn't just his imagination; that Grian was actually there.

He stared at him as he glanced up towards the window of Mumbo's flat, as he flitted between pacing or just tapping his foot, seemingly unaware of everything around him. He looked like he was deep in thought, as if he was trying to decide whether he should leave or not. Everytime that he steeled himself, spine straightening and hands curling into fists, he’d crumble, and go back to just standing outside the building, rocking back and forth.

Grian looked significantly better than the last time Mumbo saw him. His hair was in better shape, trimmed and washed, albeit wet from the rain. He wondered what style Grian usually let it sit in now, he wondered if that had changed, since they last saw each other so many weeks ago. His clothes looked clean, he was standing straighter, and he seemed to have put effort into what he was wearing.

All in all, he looked good. He looked better, so much better. If it wasn't for the pacing, Mumbo would've assumed that Grian was doing well.

It could have been hours that Mumbo stood there, glued to the pavement with watering, blinkless eyes, before Grian finally made up his mind on what he was going to do. He watched with horror as Grian turned around, walking in the opposite direction.

He hadn't seen Mumbo, hadn't noticed him.

He had decided to leave.

Mumbo’s heart dropped from his throat to his toes, fluttering with the desperate pace of a hummingbird, and yet, he couldn't move. He was frozen in place, deafening pulse hammering in his ears. He had to move! He had to!

It wasn't until a passerby walked into him, too busy looking at the groceries littering the ground, that Mumbo moved. In that moment he didn't care about the bread, he didn’t care about making himself a good, fresh meal, or the fact that there was traffic on the road. He didn't care if he ran into someone. He didn’t care if he made a fool of himself.

All he could care about was stopping Grian from leaving. He had to stop him from leaving.

His heart was yelling at him that if he didn't stop Grian from leaving, then this would be the last time he ever saw him. That they'd be stuck in this godawful limbo forever, neither of them ever gaining the strength to try and fix things between them. In those few seconds, where all he could see was the retreating outline of Grian’s rain-soaked hair, he was certain that was true.

It was true for both of them, but he could fix it. Right now, he could fix it.

That's why Mumbo ran out into the road without a second thought, throwing himself straight out into traffic, and only narrowly avoiding getting hit by a car. The driver slammed on their horn and rolled down the window to yell curses at him for his recklessness, but he could barely hear it.

Mumbo could only sprint as fast as he could, legs pumping under him like he was possessed. Adrenaline and fear and longing all melted together into some dangerous potion in his gut, he only cared about stopping Grian, he–

He didn't stop running until he caught up to Grian, his fingers first just brushing against the sleeve of his jacket as he remained just out of reach. In that split second, it was like Grian was nothing but a figment of his imagination, a shadow haunting him as he slipped through quivering fingers. It was only a moment, but the surge of absolute terror that rushed through him at that gave Mumbo a boost like nothing else.

Before he really knew what was happening, he had managed to grab Grian with a far sharper grip, long fingers tangling around his arm like a vice. He watched, tense and slightly lightheaded, as Grian yelled in response, spinning around like a whip as he tried to yank himself away.

His expression was sour, his eyelashes wet, as he seemed about ready to scream at whatever stranger had grabbed him until they let go.

Mumbo watched the exact instant that he realized who it was that was holding onto him.

Grian’s angry expression faded rapidly, first settling into a look of pure disbelief, before a hint of relief and happiness coloured his face. A smile was next, small and barely-there but still present enough to send fireworks shooting through Mumbo’s chest. He looked as if couldn't believe his eyes at all.

In a second, the happiness faded and his face crumpled like a child, something young and helpless and pained overtaking every inch of his expression. He looked sadder and more regretful than Mumbo had ever seen him, his mouth moving wordlessly as he stared up at the taller man.

Up close, Mumbo’s only thought was that he was glad Grian was truly doing better. With relief, he could see that Grian was wearing a small amount of makeup to highlight his features. It was polished, carefully placed and vibrant, but didn't hide the fact that he still had bags beneath his eyes. He still looked tired, a sleeplessness that may as well have been etched into his very bones, but the dark circles were so much less apparent than before.

Then, finally, Grian managed to croak, “Mumbo?” He said shakily, and Mumbo had never heard his name sound like an oath before. He had never heard someone call for him like they had been thinking of him for weeks, like they had been practicing holding the shape of his name on their tongue.

He could do nothing but stare, taking in every detail of the man’s face as the pair of them stood together, stuck in place. Mumbo’s tight, shaking grip stayed on Grian’s arm, his mind blank as he tried to think of a single word that would be a reply good enough for something as terrifying and profound as Grian’s own.

But he couldn’t; couldn’t do anything but gape as he spotted a half-smoked cigarette between Grian's fingers. He seemed to have forgotten it, unlit due to the rain, the smell only slightly present. How long had Grian been pacing? How long had he been out in the rain?

“Mumbo, listen, I–” Grian inhaled, about to continue, but was promptly cut off by Mumbo pulling him into a tight hug.

Grian gasped, and for a split second Mumbo was terrified that Grian wouldn't hug back, that he would resist, push Mumbo away, and leave. That this would be it, he would watch as Grian retreated away from him, and they would have forever missed their chance.

He could feel as Grian trembled. He didn't want to let go. He couldn't let go.

Then, he felt a pair of hands hovering over his back. At first they were careful, landing lightly on his soaking wet coat, but quickly they turned desperate. Those hands felt searching against him, grabbing fistfuls of as much fabric as they could reach, like whatever Grian could hold would stay with him forever. Like Mumbo would leave if Grian didn’t hold on tightly enough.

Mumbo barely registered that the other was crying, the tears blending with the rain, smudged into every other droplet that was already coating his shoulder.

"I'm sorry,” Grian sobbed, burying his head in Mumbo's shoulder. “I'm so sorry."

There were tears on Mumbo’s cheeks too as he pulled Grian as close as he could, burying his nose in damp, blond hair.

“It's okay, I'm here. It's okay," he reassured, and he wasn’t quite sure who he was talking to as he said it. It didn’t matter, they both heard it.

Neither wanted to let go, as they stood there in the pouring rain. Neither could bring themself to.

[shinjisdone]

(I don't know where to put requests in, so I'll have to put it in ask, I apologize for that.)

Hello! I have to say, your writing style is one of my most favorites, and I'd love to request!(if I can) I don't know if this counts as a disability,(if it does, please ignore this) but could you write headcanons on Riddle Rosehearts and how he would deal with a gender-neutral S/O who's born naturally weak? For example: if the temperature is even a little bit cold, they'll start to sneeze and shiver. On the other hand, if it gets too hot, they'll start to feel faint and weak.

If you do end up doing my request, thank you so much! And if you don't, still, thank you for all your works!!! Don't give up!!!!

Hi! Requests ARE put into the ask box as far as I know so you are doing it correctly!

Oh man, it's always nice to hear that my??? Writing style which is just brainrot??? is one of someone's favorite omg stahp ur making me blush.

I also appreciate the encouragment and I think I am fine with this request. I'll see what I can do.

If it is not done appropriately, please tell me asap.

Riddle Rosehearts with an g/n S/O who is physically fragile

Riddle was most likely aware of your condition before you started dating.

Before that he'd make sure to assist you whenever you saw each other - which became much more often in time.

He was quick to realize - before and during dating - that there are no rules of the Queen he can follow to help you.

Each condition is individual and each person has their own way of handling themselves. Something as superficial as a 'Do this' and 'Don't do that' cannot cut it. He is a bit in a pickle because of it.

When everything's chaotic and blue, at least he always had the rules he could grasp back to whenever needed. But they prove to be not as helpful this time.

At the beginning he asks you what he could do. Rather bluntly at first before explaining that he honestly does not know what he could do to help you, let alone be a perfect boyfriend to you. A title he strives for.

His mother is a magical doctor and since she also wishes for him to become one, Riddle is knowledgeable in many medical areas. But since it's you - his rose, which he embarrassingly admitted at the beginning of your relationship - he does not have the boldness to just proclaim what is good for you and what not.

He feels safer asking you.

SO, after things have been discussed, Riddle believes it is high time for changes. If these standing rules do not fit you, he will create new ones that will.

Teaching each Heartslabyul student on what must be done when you are here. Over for a Unbirthday Party? The heat can be much, always have at least two parasols next to the table. Also set the table a bit futher away from the roses. The pollen could nettle your nose.

Inside playing a cards game? The papers could cut you, we better soften the edges. Yes, Ace, of each and every card.

His worry for your well-being might get overexaggerated...

Understand that this comes naturally to Riddle. Leading and enruling is what he does best and rules have always been a stable in his life. Rules are there to follow and make the lives of everyone better.

You might have to tell him to calm down...don't create new rules just for you. Yes, the sun can be blaring and the rooms cold, but the rest of the dorm don't have to follow new rules like card soldiers just for you.

He will understand...and might feel awful. He fell into this loop of flaws again where he believes rules and laws to be supreme. He, once again, became a tyrant.

Riddle will revoke the rules...but will still remind everyone to keep you in mind. In fact, everyone in the dorm with similiar conditions should be kept in mind...

Yes...maybe that should become a rule. To consider everyone's well-being.

Much shorter and simpler, even for people like Ace and Deuce to follow.

Other than that, Riddle will always personally make sure you are okay. Like a gentleman he will offer his assistance and if you refuse, he will comply. He just wants to let you know he's there, okay?

Offers his arm as he holds a parasol, you two strolling through the garden. Will make you tea himself that is not too spicy or hot (he might need some lessons from Trey). He would offer you his cloak or entire cabinet of clothes if you ask to keep you warm.

He might even buy certain things to make your day-to-day life easier.

A bit more attendive and tends to think a lot about other people and their conditions. He kinda wishes to be more of help...

But well....if you are at least okay and happy with him, then Riddle is fine with just helping and learning from you for now.

[ahmedmootaz]

This is kinda impossible, but what if Enoch/Tiphereth B survived into Library of Ruina/brought back to life after the good ending somehow and also got turned into a child along with Tiphereth A?

Would lil Lisa end up becoming bolder and have a sharper tongue than she does in AIP without him?

What would a younger than ever before Enoch/Tiphereth B act since Tiphy also had a personality change in AIP?

How would Ayin react to seeing his first-to-die adoptive son again?

How would X react to seeing the person whose first death was what kickstarted the whole spiral of suffeeing that lead to the Script and X existence?

How would Roland react to seeing someone that he cringely called Tiphereth's boyfriend before she corrected him with a punch?

Which dad would end up taking him in? Ayin because he wants to be a dad to Enoch again and Lisa insists she and Enoch are siblings? Roland because he seems to have the most calm/thoughtful kids and Enoch is one philosophical child? X because Garion wants someone to have debates with and because he needs someone calm amongst his kids?

Most importantly, what more cute and sad interactions would we have had if Enoch was present in AIP?

Dear Anonymous,

Ah, such a poignant question, eh? I suppose it's only natural considering how important Enoch is to Tiphy, and how it's inevitable that he will have to be addressed at some point, so I'm quite glad that we'll touch on that in this ask, ehehe.

Well, to start things off, I think that bringing Enoch into the Library cannot be done without some good angst. After all, the poor boy's story is just chock-full of it, and who am I to not add onto a good angsty story?

I think, as a start, that if Enoch was transported to the Library as Tiphereth B, then he would have severe memory loss issues as a side-effect of his constant reconstruction in the Corporation and the fact that he was turned into a Sephirah long after he died (since it's implied he died at least a few weeks before Carmen's suicide, and definitely a month or two before everything went down the drain and the Head attacked), so his brain was certainly not in prime condition. I think his personality and intelligence would remain unchanged, but he would definitely have difficulty remembering faces and names, and perhaps even people. Maybe he'd only really remember Tiphy/Lisa and perhaps some deeply-implanted memories of Carmen and Ayin, since he was quite attached to the two of them during his lifetime (from what little we hear about him, anyway), so I think his presence in the Library would be a constant source of joy and torment for Tiphy/Lisa, since she'd be overjoyed he could actually join her again and she didn't have to mourn him anymore, but at the same time, seeing his state sometimes makes her wish that he was actually resting.

Should he be de-aged alongside the rest of the Librarians, I think he would definitely get Lisa to open up a little, if only to speak up on his behalf because he would be quite quiet and calm. I think that, although she would be shy as well, she would grow a little bolder to voice his demands and opinions, at least with Ayin. Of course, it's only logical that Ayin would take him in as well, seeing how he'd be inseparable from Lisa. In LC, it seemed as if they knew each other ever since they were little kids, so I assume that Lisa would definitely recognise him, although she wouldn't really be overprotective of him seeing how she'd remember nothing of the Old Laboratory, but she'd definitely have a nagging sensation in her mind that demands she doesn't separate from him at all costs and to always keep him under her gaze, though she would probably be lax on that sensation from time to time.

As for differences in character...Perhaps Enoch wouldn't be as...resigned as he was shown to be in LC. That was one of his most defining features, considering it was what led him to he okay with the Cogito experiment and threw the whole LC cast down the rabbit hole it's known for, so perhaps he would still be calm, intelligent and eccentric, though not necessarily as much of a death-seeker or as resigned as he was, showing some determination of his own when he'd be given a warm house and a warm family without the Outskirts' memories.

How would Ayin react...I think he'd be very scared, all things considered, in the same way someone would be scared of breaking a million-dollar vase. After all, it'd be like seeing a ghost, and considering the circumstances surrounding Enoch, it would a ghost that haunted Ayin for his entire life. I think that describing their relationship in a single word would be: Guilt. It's not similar to any of the guilt that Ayin has to grapple with on a regular basis, however; it is a crushing, all-encompassing guilt that encompasses everything that was caused by the experiment with Enoch, from Carmen's death to the Library's creation, and it would also be the type of guilt that flinches at how unassuming Enoch would be. Whenever he'd innocently thank or hug or shake Ayin's hand, it would cause tremendous amounts of guilt to the older man simply because he knows how this story ended, even though Enoch would harbour no ill-will whether de-aged or as a theoretical Patron Librarian.

When it comes to X, I don't think he'd harbour any anger or resentment to Enoch, although it'd certainly be a fascinating thought experiment for him to go: "I wouldn't have been here without him, huh?", and he would likely give him a few stares from time to time for no reason other than that he's simply fascinated by his presence considering he only ever saw him under the Script's influence. He would see what Carmen regretted so much following the Cogito experiment, and if anything I think he would pity him for what he had to endure during the Script.

As for Roland, I think this is the most interesting of the dads not when it comes to the reaction to Enoch and his interactions with him, but with how Enoch forms Roland's perception of Ayin; he knew that Enoch was sacrificed for the Cogito experiment, but seeing how calm and friendly he is would definitely increase the resentment for the experiment (and subsequently Ayin) tenfold...at least at the start of the Incident. When he and Ayin grow closer, I think Roland might start asking if there were other ways to progress the Cogito research without resorting to experimenting on Enoch, and he would definitely understand the plight of the Old Laboratory more, not being too judgemental although not letting off the Old Lab off the hook for using Enoch so readily, even if there was a lot of hesitation with the decision. Eventually, I think Roland sees Enoch as a turning point for Ayin, in a way, with the latter's immense guilt and pain would drive him towards being a better person to try taking care of him not just as Enoch, but as Tiphy B whenever they do manage to turn the kids back.

Although all of the possibilities with other parents work precisely for the reasons you mentioned, I think that it's simply long overdue for us to give Ayin a second chance at this parenting business, especially when he's the one with such an emotional connection to Enoch both before and after the Old Lab's fall.

As for cute and sad interactions...Hmm, well, I think Enoch would mellow out a little with Angela, cooing at her and playing with her as his real little sister, which would definitely inflame the flames of jealousy between her and Lisa, with Lisa vying for Ayin's affection as a way to get back at Angela for hogging 'her' Enoch. It would be one of the more unique 'battles' out there, eheh.

But as for sad interactions...perhaps the saddest of them all would be Ayin realising that he has to re-age Enoch back into Tiphy B and endure the loss and separation again after just 15 days together as the father and son they always should've been. It definitely makes the decision to re-age the Librarians far harder, especially considering the difficulties Enoch would contend with as Tiphereth B...Of course, without mentioning the copious sad interactions where Ayin shrivels a little on himself whenever he'd see Enoch appreciating him, knowing deep down that he failed him long, long ago...

Of course, there are many more possible interactions, but this ask is getting quite a bit long now, so hey, if you're curious about them you can always send a separate ask and I'll try to answer semi-soonish. Until next time, Anon, be well, stay safe, and see ya'!

[fleetsonourgecentral]

Imagine If Fleetway Super Sonic and Sonic were actually very friendly with each other.

Now imagine Scourge getting jealous or be shocked by it

I think Scourge would be too busy being shocked to be jealous by it lmao. I headcanon he's surprisingly not as jealous a person as people expect him to be, and even if he was, he'd be too busy going "who are you and what have you done with my Sonic" to be jealous. In an extreme case, where the change of heart seemed to be sudden, he'd be worried about mind fuckery going on, maybe concerned Super or someone else has some mind altering power or device that's fucked with Sonic's head to make him be friendly with Super

Fortunately for Scourge, it's doubtful that will happen (unless someone really did pull some mind fuckery on Sonic, which would be a pretty cool storyline ngl) because I don't think Sonic will ever be friendly with Super - or at least it would take a very long time and a lot of work (and maybe some forced proximity). I think Sonic is still hung up on that one time he thought he - as Super - murdered his friends, and doesn't really believe Super can ever be truly good also his whole issue with Kintobor/Robotnik. He probably thinks there's no justice in Super getting a happy ending and being good despite being made out of chaos energy when Kintobor couldn't. Maybe that would calm down after Kintobor's return but who knows. He's not against second chances, but I don't think he'd be particularly willing to give one to Super, partly because he sees Super as more a manifestation of chaos energy and the evil within it than a person. As for Super, I think he's (understandably) nervous about being around Sonic. His ire would be hurtful, considering Super is trying so hard to be good and Sonic just will not believe it. Sonic's fear of Super undermine's Super's efforts to be a good person, and Super is worried, deep down, that Sonic is right. He was right before, after all

I think the relationship between them could certainly improve, albeit most likely with outside influences - Sonic could certainly stand to learn Super is a person and not just an evil manifestation of chaos energy that wants to destroy everything he loves, and therefore see him as a person who is not only capable of being good, but who wants to be good - but it's very difficult to envision them as ever being friendly with each other. The tension between them can be minimised, but it would be incredibly difficult to eradicate it enough to be friendly. I actually got a comment on one of my previous fics, that described them as "working towards chill civility" which I think sums it up perfectly! They can absolutely learn to co-exist in chill civility, accepting one another's presence in the world, but just... preferring the presence to be at a distance as much as possible. Anything more than that would take a lot more effort than I imagine either of them are willing to give lol

[carry-on-my-wayward-gays]

Oh The Things Our Hands Do: a Bird of Prey spinoff

SURPRISE @roxie-roo IT'S ALL ANGST >:) everyone else I hope you enjoy :3

-

"I'm so proud of you, Tim..."

[Grian was slain by SolidarityGaming][GoodTimesWithScar died]

Jimmy was... oh Void he felt like he was going to puke. Bile stung the back of his throat but he swallowed it down.

The grass below him was slowly becoming stained red. A dark pool slowly spreading over the hillside, thick and warm and seeping into Jimmy's jeans at the knees.

At first he felt like crying. Sobbing and clinging onto Grian's body before they had to bury him and Scar. Jimmy wondered if the two would want to be buried together...

But as he reached forward and grabbed Grian's red sweater, he felt a little giggle bubble up. He pulled his friend closer and pulled his sword from his chest, laughing just a bit louder. His hands shook as he put his sword back in his inventory. Oh he was so shaky and his mind was racing and why couldn't he stop laughing?!

Jimmy took one last look at Grian's body. His best friend, someone who he considered a brother. And he.. he...

He let go.

Loud, maniacal laughter. It was hysterical. He felt like his throat was being torn apart by just how loud and deranged he sounded.

It was a sound that could be heard all the way from Pearl's tower. It carried across the ravine and broke the stillness of the meadow. It ripped up whatever electricity had been floating since Grian's death message.

There had been a change that day. Not just in people's perception of Jimmy, or the ranchers, but maybe in the code itself. Something broke. Something just broke.

Jimmy stands up, shaking and all sorts of uncoordinated. He's still laughing as he makes his way home. His knees are soaked and stained with Grian's blood and everything looks blurry.

Fuck, he really just did that. Took someone's life with his own bare hands.

Jimmy giggles as he opens the door to the ranch. Tango isn't home, though that's probably for the best. He doesn't want his rancher seeing him like this, hysterically laughing at absolutely nothing and covered in blood. Shaking like a leaf in a hurricane to boot. Notch only knows what he'd think of Jimmy then.

When Jimmy calms down - stops wobbling around with a wicked grin on his pale face - he finally throws up. Killing someone never gets easy, no matter how red your name gets. At least not for him. He prefers setting traps and waiting to see his victim's name pop up in chat. That was enough adrenaline for him.

Tango comes home as Jimmy is changing his pants. His skin is also stained red from the blood underneath the denim. And it sticks to him too.

"Jimmy that was amazing!" Tango tells him. His eyes fall to Jimmy's bloody knees, and his demeanor changes.

Tango walks past Jimmy, keeping his back to the blond so he can change. "People kept asking if it was an accident. They looked scared." Tango continues, still giddy but keeping his voice down. "I heard their whispers on the way home."

[Etho was obliterated by a sonically-charged shriek][Smallishbeans died]

Jimmy sighs, pulling his belt through the loops of clean jeans.

"Hey, you ok?" Tango asks, coming up behind Jimmy. His hand rubs comfortingly over his shoulder and squeezes his bicep. He's tense.

Jimmy nods first. Maybe trying to convince himself above Tango. "Yeah I-" He swallows, "I'll be fine. I will."

"I don't wanna know if you'll be ok later, I wanna know if you're ok now."

Jimmy nods again. His Adam's Apple bobs and he breathes out. "Just.. a bit shaky. I've never been good with actually taking lives." He explains. He turns to Tango with a hardly convincing smile. "I'm ok. It's the point of the game."

Tango still hugs him. He wraps his arms around Jimmy's ribs and pulls him close, into a nice warm embrace. Jimmy hugs him back with his fingers twisting Tango's jacket in fists.

"I love you." Tango whispers.

"I love you too." Jimmy mumbles back.

They go to bed shortly after. It feels like the sun sets faster in these games, and the moon lingers longer than she's supposed to.

Jimmy lays on his belly. His wings - which need to be dyed first thing tomorrow - rest comfortably on top of him. They act like a weighted blanket for both him and Tango, who makes himself comfortable under one stretched out wing.

"Sleep well, buttercup." Tango wishes quietly.

But they're not the only ones who sleep like shit that night.

[knightotoc]

So I finally watched Madoka and reread The End of Eternity, and because I have a one-track-Anakin-only-mind I thought of a version of The Phantom Menace in which Qui-Gon turns Anakin into the Chosen One by using time loops:

Before they get to Mos Espa, Qui-Gon finds some mysterious (Rakatan?) technology. He realizes he can use the tech to go back in time to the moment he found it. He gets a terrible feeling about it, since it was made for an evil empire.

The first time Anakin enters the podrace, he dies. Qui-Gon considers using the technology for a long time, maybe even years; finally his guilt compels him to do it. The second time, Qui-Gon tries to rig things in Anakin's favor, but he still dies in a different way. The third time, Qui-Gon doesn't change anything; Anakin still dies -- but it's in yet another way. Qui-Gon realizes that each timeline is full of immeasurable changes.

He asks C-3PO to calculate Anakin's chances of surviving the podrace. 3PO gives him an absurd number, several thousand to one odds. He then asks for Anakin's chances of winning the podrace, and gets an answer of several million to one. That one becomes Qui-Gon's obsession.

In every timeloop, Qui-Gon is fully confident that Anakin will win the race. He doesn't count the timeloops or attempt to interfere with reality, but engages with time travel instead as a repetitive, personal spiritual experience.

The only change he makes is that, after a few dozen repetitions, he starts to measure Anakin's midichlorians. Each time, the count is vastly different, with no pattern, and not even a significant effect on his performance in the race. He wonders if these machines were damaged in the escape, if they are even measuring anything at all, or if this whole midichlorian theory is bogus.

Finally he arrives at a timeline in which Anakin's midichlorian count is a hundred times higher than any he has measured before, so high it can't even be measured with their tools. He maintains the same calm confidence of any timeline, but he can't help but feel in his heart that this one is different. And it is: this is the time he wins.

Is this confirmation of midichlorian theory? Is it a mind-boggling coincidence? Or did Qui-Gon stumble into an anomalous universe with a superman in it?

Qui-Gon assumes the Council -- and, more tragically, Obi-Wan -- would not understand his motivations for using this technology rank with the Dark Side, but he does make an arrangement to discuss the matter with Coruscant's leading expert on probability. My main reason for adding this scene is if I were to write this, I'd want to do a lot of research on statistical science and this would be the best place to show my work. It would also be my chance to add knock-off Hari Seldon into Star Wars, which is the dream.

And I'm sure Qui-Gon would also want to discuss the matter with some other prophecy-nerds, which would also be fun to write.

When Qui-Gon dies, Obi-Wan still doesn't know about the technology. But here's another idea, and I can't decide if I like it or hate it. Maybe the tech is attached to Qui-Gon's lightsaber, so when Obi-Wan picks it up, this becomes the moment that Obi-Wan can return to.

So one creepy thing that could happen is Obi-Wan keeps accidentally setting it off, and returning to this, the worst moment of his life. But he believes this is some kind of dark vision created by his trauma, and never realizes the truth. Once he puts Qui-Gon's lightsaber away, it never happens again.

Another insane thing that could happen is, once everything has gone down and he's a hermit on Tatooine, either he finds the Rakatan clues (?) or Qui-Gon's ghost finally fesses up, and Obi-Wan realizes he has the chance to do it all over again (???!?!?!) Tho I guess he would have to get ahold of Qui-Gon's lightsaber, which would either be buried with him on Naboo or in storage on Coruscant. So he'd have to abandon Luke and risk capture for this chance. That does make it a more interesting decision, and I feel like he's not the kind of guy who would do it.

[smiletimeisrunningout]

"Didn't I tell you-it's the scar I've here," she pointed at the spot on her chest, genuinely surprised, "I'm sorry, it's not even something I hide, I guess it didn't come up... Step-grandma wanted my heart on a silver platter," considering she had initially stayed there because of the extremely violent crimes committed by people from her faction, it would be no surprise there, "He was very close to getting it. It's why sometimes-often, I need to be, you know, on top. When we are alone. Every now and then he comes back to mind." That would have been a helpful information for him before they had stopped seeing each other at night, probably. "I'm thinking that if I had told you the stories behind my scars you would have probably understood me better..." she squeezed his hand, "But maybe it will kill the rest of you more."

"Your admittance of 'even if you are' is as much of a declaration as I'll ever need. I don't require loud and splashy displays of affection...your smiles and gestures and thoughtfulness let me know precisely how you feel."

"Really?" she met his eyes with a small spark of relief and perhaps even hope, because she hadn't considered that-no, no, there was still the matter of her being not enough, not just her lack of ability to word her emotions. But still, it was something, even if a simple 'I love you' was not unreasonable for him to demand.

"Does this give me bragging rights over all the other men?"

She giggled at that, feeling a little lighter: "Yes, I suppose it does." He seemed so happy about it, so easily won over by the smallest affirmations she was making.

"And isn't that the beauty of life? That there are no guarantees, and that everything is an adventure? One that's meant to be experienced with the ones you love?"

She wanted the guarantees, as silly as that was. She may long for adventures that involved swords, or guns now, but not for the ones that involved a ring. But she also wanted, desperately, to trust Ben.

"What if I've considered everything before? Coming home with you, and just...w-well, not abandoning the Cause, per se, but allowing myself a modicum of peace -- giving myself the chance to simply be."

Her mouth fell open because that had never crossed her mind, that he'd want that, that he'd consider that an option. For her. "You can't-we can't-would you? Wh... Wait, give me a moment." It was best for both of them if she could at least calm down enough to finish a sentence, and she would have thought impossible for herself to blush after such a blood loss, yet apparently bodies worked differently than how she expected. "You have... thought of that? Of... of coming home with me, of... being... together with me?" When? To what extent?

"Haven't you felt safe? Secure? Happy? Why must all of that change just because our feelings have? Are we not the same two people?"

"Well, I never... never felt responsible to give you... what a wi-woman is supposed to give you... romantically and now I do, and I'm very aware of my lackings." It wasn't just that, of course, it was also that he'd be stepping in Arian's former role, and it was terrifying.

"Because yes, Emma, I'd love nothing more than to say I can accept that, but I feel as though you're trying your very best to dissuade me...and I'm unsure if that's because of your residual fear, or if you genuinely believe I won't be able to handle you. Well... I suppose we all could use a lesson on how to handle you."

Emma let out a chuckle despite everything, "Not all, you are the only one I'd care to help learn such horror." He had been satisfied with how she could single him out earlier, so perhaps that was the way to keep telling him had indeed a special place in her heart. "I guess the first part of the lesson would be not to let me dissuase you." But she could see that he was in a strange position of having to hear her objections and ignore them entirely, which may not feel like the kind thing to do.

She pulled his hand closer so she could hold it with both of hers, thinking. "When I met him, when I met Arian... I acted like a boy. I thought boys were better, had more fun than girls, because they got to wear the best clothes, and girls were boring. I didn't want to wear pretty dresses or worry about my hair, I wanted to fight. I started fights with the boys in town and, since I was actually trained in both swords and hand to hand combat, I won. And Arian thought that was amazing. He told me I was strong and beautiful, that I'd be a warrior like my mother, and he started courting me with sweet words and gifts. He trusted me with personal matters, made me feel needed and even stronger and... I started seeing him after curfew. Innocently, I was just a girl, but so that we could spend hours talking. And we did. And..." she paused, feeling her heart race in her chest, "You cannot tell anyone what I'm about to say."

"Take your heart?" Benjamin echoed, stunned. "Emma..." Expression softening, he appraised her with a different sort of invasiveness -- one he knew she wouldn't appreciate, given her stubbornness, but he took her hand all the same. "Don't you realize how much you've already endured? You are resilient, you are a fighter -- infuriatingly so." Here, he offered a lopsided smile. "It would kill the rest of us far less if you weren't so determined to dive headlong into danger."

"You are the kindest," Emma grumbled, a soft furrow forming between her brows. "You said... you said that me being unsure means you have your answer. I'll never stop being unsure, so... that means you'll feel unloved even if you are. Especially with someone like me who can't... say romantic words."

Benjamin hesitated, his heart both rising and falling akin to a skipping stone. "That might be true," he cautiously allowed, "but I think it helps that I know where you stand. When we first talked, I had no idea that you...I-I didn't realize the wounds ran so deep." He squeezed her fingers. "Your admittance of 'even if you are' is as much of a declaration as I'll ever need. I don't require loud and splashy displays of affection...your smiles and gestures and thoughtfulness let me know precisely how you feel."

You and no one else.

The words danced between his ribs and lit up his entire face, a shy, boyish grin lifting the corners of his mouth. "Does this give me bragging rights over all the other men?" he teased. "Such words will assuredly break some hearts."

The sentiment seemed to prick into Emma like a thorn. "What if I break your heart?" she deflected.

Benjamin's smile faded and he scooted in closer. "I'm an adult," he assured her. "Well...maybe not always in my approach, but I think I can handle it."

Emma shook her head. "What if I'm not enough and you break my heart again? Not... not that you did it before, but it was broken by someone else, and I can't take another--If only I could be sure that I can give you enough, Ben..."

He winced, his eyes burning with a hint of pity and helplessness. "You know we can't guarantee anything," Benjamin whispered. "And isn't that the beauty of life? That there are no guarantees, and that everything is an adventure? One that's meant to be experienced with the ones you love?"

Emma chuckled, the sound tinged with disbelief. "You couldn't be closer than I wish, Ben, you could never be close enough. I would want nothing more than to keep you by my side, take you home with me, and never let you go... But that matters little if... if I can't give you... more."

Benjamin swallowed, the pleading look in his face reflecting her own. "But what if I want all of that?" he pressed. "What if I've considered everything before? Coming home with you, and just...w-well, not abandoning the Cause, per se, but allowing myself a modicum of peace -- giving myself the chance to simply be."

The desperation in Emma's eyes grew. "A man should feel like... the woman he's with feels safe. I can't give you that. I can give you my heart, but I can't stop being scared of you throwing it away. Can you accept that? Knowing it's because another man has done it before?"

"But what about these past few months?" Benjamin pressed. Throat raw, he asked, "Haven't you felt safe? Secure? Happy? Why must all of that change just because our feelings have? Are we not the same two people? Could it not be argued that affection makes a bond stronger, and not worse?" He exhaled. "Because yes, Emma, I'd love nothing more than to say I can accept that, but I feel as though you're trying your very best to dissuade me...and I'm unsure if that's because of your residual fear, or if you genuinely believe I won't be able to handle you. Well..." Here, he offered a lopsided smile. "I suppose we all could use a lesson on how to handle you."

[justjessame]

Light Through the Darkness: Chapter 27

Abigail's Magic Prison~ Date Irritatingly Unknown

As time passed-

Well, Abigail supposed it passed, for all she knew it was the same day Damon left. Ignoring the twinge of loneliness that thought brought, she focused on a way to get to the garden. Clearly the shadows were important, but they came no closer than the edge of her garden scene.

She believed that since she was able to change things inside the room itself and she had made the garden appear, then she should be able to expand the house. All she really needed was the path from her room to the garden. She tried focusing intently on just that path, but a voice and memory kept intruding.

"Abigail," the voice beckoned. Low and intimate, yet also mocking and monstrous, she knew that her path outside would take her past the terror of the room he'd turned from an everyday visit, to a living nightmare.

Blinking out of her fear and terror, she wanted to scream. Frustration, terror, anguish, everything pent up from one night. One month if she wanted to be fully honest with herself. She didn't scream, she couldn't and wouldn't. Her mother had raised her to be measured in her responses. More decorum was expected of a woman of her station.

Shaking off her irritation, she closed her eyes and tried again.

Mystic Falls, VA Mid to Late September 2009

Damon was annoyed. Perturbed. Irritated. Aggravated. Pissed.

As he sat in the faux dungeon of the Salvatore Boarding House, ironically on the date of his rebirth, he was running through all the synonyms for how he was feeling.

Hungry. Thirsty. Dry. Starving.

Stefan was planning on interring him in the family crypt once he was desiccated. Strike two in the irony column. All because Stefan took offense to him attempting to seduce Elena away from him. And possibly because he was using the head cheerleader as his personal blood bag. And maybe because he was toying with the townsfolk. OK, so they had a laundry list of reasons to put him down for the count, but dammit it still sucked.

Like blood from a ripe young artery. Parched. Cottonmouthed. Burning. Yearning.

He'd obviously picked the wrong walking Happy Meal. Out of an entire school of willing cheerleaders, he'd picked the most aggravating one. Killing her should have happened long before he finally tried, and that brought him back to his current housing situation.

Brought down by your own food. Irony checkmate.

He was close to his goal he could feel it. He shouldn't have made a move on Elena, he knew that it had been stupid. Mostly he'd done it because the cheap fix he'd gotten of Stefan's angst from the news about Abigail hadn't lasted long enough. Guess poking Teen Angst Carebear wasn't smart. Coughing drying, he considered his options. Not enjoying the likelihood of the success of many, he settled on his least favorite. Happy Meal to the rescue.

Damon wasn't aware that he wasn't the only Salvatore with multiple balls in the air. While he wasn't controlled by the obsession for Abigail Morgan he once was, Stefan did feel fear for her.

She'd been locked inside her own head for nearly 150 years, that couldn't be a good sign.

He was also finding himself having to reassure Elena about who he was, and that found him making her a home cooked meal at the Gilbert house. He gave her a backstory with enough history that he hoped would keep her mind calm. He also assured her that Damon was gone. No longer an issue for any of them to worry about.

Elena reassured about him, and feeling happy with how their relationship was progressing. He hoped that he could come clean one day, but not just now. Her being happy with his answers made it easy for him to return to his issues with Abigail Morgan.

After Damon had confirmed that the "ghost story" Caroline shared was true, his memories came back in a flood of blood and terror. He remembered his father's death, the killing of the rest of the staff, but it was Sallie's face- eyes pleading, that surfaced the hardest. Seeing the person closest to Abigail rendered bloody and twisted by his own hands brought him to his knees. And the stage he'd set, blood and organs, of the people she'd known so well-how could he have done that?

The memories were real and hard to face. He had to find a path to free her. To let her know that she was finally safe. That she could finally live a long and peaceful life. A life free from him and Damon. He just had to find a way to make it happen.

[mirclealignr]

Regulus Black Fluff Alphabet

regulus x gn! reader

requested by anon

warnings; brief mentions of food and anxiety

from this alphabet

A - Affection; how they like to show their love.

Regulus does a lot through touch and reassuring looks/smiles. He finds it hard sometimes to express just how he feels about you, especially considering expressions of love were severely lacking in his life. But when he holds your hand or caresses your face, he feels as if he's spilling all his secrets, and hopes that you understand them.

B - Beauty; what do they especially admire about you?

Your warmth. At first it was practically disarming, but overtime he learned to embrace it and miss it when it was absent, when you were absent. It would be so different to what he was used to, especially with the people closest to him. But he would adore the change that was you.

C - Cuddles; how they like to cuddle you.

Most of the time he likes to have his arms around you, sitting up slightly while you lay against his chest. There's a sense of safety he finds in knowing that you can hear his heartbeat and that it doesn't scare you off. But sometimes, he likes it when you take him in your arms and he can nuzzle in the crook of your neck.

D - Dancing; their favourite place to dance with you.

He is simply a hopeless romantic, and loves to dance with you when it's dark and raining outside, when the two of you are almost completely alone. He loves watching you smile as the rain seeps into your clothes and dampens your hair, and when you rest your head on his chest for some shelter.

E - Excitement; do they get excited with you about things?

Regulus likes to understand things before he gets excited about them with you. If you come running to him with an elated expression and start rambling about whatever brought you this pleasure, he'd want to know why. He'd want to understand you and relate to you. Almost always, he'd become just as excited as you.

F - First Date; your first date together.

The Astronomy Tower. Regulus would want to be alone with you, without prying or judging eyes. It wouldn't be much, maybe some snacks and a drink he brought for you, but he would want to hear you talk and laugh and to see you smile. He'd want to know your likes and dislikes, the memories you cherished, and things you looked back on and laughed at.

G - Goals; do they have things they want to achieve? Do they include you in these things?

For Regulus, his future goals remain largely unclear. Before you, he thought it was simple, but afterwards it would become far more complicated. With the weight of his family, and Sirius' abandonment making it heavier, he would often try to avoid the thought. But if you ever brought it up, he'd tell you that wherever you were, he would be.

H - Honesty; how open are they with you?

Very. Trust is something extremely important to him. While he may not tell you everything the second it happens, he does have every intention of letting you see every side of him, even the parts he wished would vanish from existence. Upon getting to know you, the trials of his family would be revealed slowly, rather than all at once, so he didn't overwhelm you. Of course, he'd be terrified, but he knew it was better that way, and he knew that you would love him all the same.

I - I Love You; do they say it a lot? did they say it first?

Regulus does not say it first, though he'd be sure he felt it first. He confesses straight after you, though, and gradually says it more and more over time. Expressing his feelings would not come easy, and sometimes, rather than tell you how much he appreciated you for listening or how beautiful he thought you were, he simply said 'I love you' in replacement, hoping that it would be enough.

J - Jealousy; do they get jealous?

Not necessarily jealous, but rather insecure. When he sees you laughing with someone else, he'd wonder whether they were better suited to you--they were warmer, more free, happier. Perhaps he brought you down, perhaps he weighed you down, and though he didn't express these insecurities out loud, he'd always seem to be easily read by you. And you'd always be there to reassure him when you needed to.

K - Kiss; their favourite place to kiss you.

Your hands. For Regulus, hands mean so much, represent so much, and yours are his to kiss and hold as much as he pleases. To him it would feel incredibly intimate, despite the fact that your hands can touch others, but that they're only his to kiss and hold. People can always get close, but never as close as he can.

L - Little Spoon; who’s the little spoon?

The majority of the time, you are the little spoon. He likes the idea that he is able to protect you, actually make you feel safe and wanted; it's one of the things he prides himself on. But, there woulds be times when he needed to feel that, and revelled in the warmth of your embrace tightening around him, holding him close.

M - Melody; what’s your song together?

I think your song together would be 'I Want to Hold Your Hand' by The Beatles.

N - Nicknames; do they use nicknames for you?

Yes a few. Some of them would include 'treasure' and/or 'my treasure' because he adores you and could not think of anything better than you. For him, you are what people search for their whole lives, sometimes without ever finding it. And, because he speaks French, ‘mon chéri /ma chérie' for definite.

O - Open Book; how hard was it to get to know them?

It wasn't necessarily hard, just gradual. However, you would have always suspected that Regulus did not have it easy and were content with him going at his own pace, and appreciating that he was brave enough to reveal it all to you. It never seemed too slow, rushed, or overwhelming--he picked his timings well and never let things become too heavy. He'd also be very conscious that everyone had their own burdens, and would make sure he always left time and room for you to air anything you wanted or needed.

P - PDA; how affectionate they are in public.

Not very much at all. He prefers to show you his love when it's just the two of you. But he isn't afraid to let other people know that you're in a relationship, and will often intertwine his fingers with yours, whisper things in your ear, and kiss your temple.

Q - Quirk: a weird but loveable trait of theirs.

He never signs his name, he always signs R.A.B. Even when it's small notes to you, little love letters, or ordinary letters, he will never sign it as Regulus, but with his full initials.

R - Romance; how romantic are they?

So much. He loves leaving you love notes, writing love letters to you, slow dancing with you, playing music for you, watching the stars with you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, snuggling up in bed with you with a good book. He loves to do it all.

S - Secrets; do they keep secrets from you?

Not really. Perhaps only ones he thinks would unnecessarily hurt you, like what his family says about you. He doesn't tell you because he doesn't think it matters, they don't matter to him, only you do, and he wants their words to mean nothing.

T - Thrill; do they like to keep the relationship new and exciting?

He likes to, and he tries. He certainly likes surprising you, even if only to see that smile. He likes taking you places, learning your favourite songs on the piano simply because you like hearing them, taking you on spontaneous trips or dates. He's not on for grand, public gestures, but he still keeps excitement in the relationship his own way. But he also knows when things need to be slow and calm, and doesn't mind it either way.

U - Understanding; how they comfort/support when you’re upset or anxious.

He knows that most things said would be wrong, even if they were intended to be reassuring and understanding. Even when you talk about what's bothering you or don't, it can be hard to say the right thing. So instead, he takes you in his arms, rubs your back, kisses your cheek and gets you any comfort foods that you wish for. Sometimes, words speak far less than actions.

V - Vexed; how easily they lose their temper.

With his family, and even with Sirius, Regulus can lose his temper very quickly, but you understand that their relationship has not been easy, nor do you care for his family. With you, it's rare that he loses his temper or raises his voice at you. When he does, there are usually other factors that have contributed to his mood, and he is quick to apologise afterwards.

W - Weakness; what’s their weakness what it comes to you?

Your smile. So easily it can make him feel like he's falling from the stars, watching the constellations become smaller and smaller as he slips into the earth's atmosphere, burning and smiling and falling completely in love with you every time he sees it.

X - Xtra; random hc about them.

Regulus likes to speak in French to you when there are things he is too afraid to say or things he thinks sound more romantic when said in another language. Even if you can understand him, there's something less nerve-racking about saying it in French, it's almost like he's playing himself in another world, but still hopelessly in love with you.

Y - Years to Come; how they imagine your future together.

He doesn't like to think about the future often because he knows how easily it can change and fail to meet your expectations. He only hopes that he is with you, facing whatever is to come. He prefers to focus on the present, where he already is with you.

Z - Zzz; how they are when they sleep.

Incredibly still, almost scarily still. The only time he moves is to be closer to you, closer to your exuding warmth. It almost frightens you to move in case it wakes him or disturbs him, but if it does, he never lets on. - - - fill in this form or send an ask to be added to a tag list <3 forever friends; @myalupinblack / @selenes-sun / @vixxiann /@queen-asteria04 / @lillict / @savingpluto /@theincredibledeadlyviper / @pad-foots / @fizzleberries / @willowbleedsonpaper / @kinkyduuh harry potter; @fuckingbloodyhello / @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts / @scvrllet / @dreamerinthesun / @crazy-beautiful / @chaoticgirl04 /@cupids-crystals / @fandom-life-12 / @mypainistemporary-blog /@oliverwoodmarrymepls / @eunoniaa / @missryerye marauders era; @spxllcxstxr / @natashxromanovfreads / @ch /@sereinegemini / @helen-with-an-a / @sweeter-than-strawberries /@spxncervibes regulus black; @jackys-stuff-blog / @with-love-anu / @yinrose98 /@tarorootboba / @lyaseille / @bloodblossom73

[i-need-air]

Hybrid!AU Wolf!Bakugou Katsuki HCs Part 2.

Summary: Part 2 is here! While in part 1 it was mostly adoption and how he'd behave with you as a roommate, part two is him ✨ realizing things ✨ followed by how he'd be in a romantic relationship.

Word Count: 2k words [ oops, I did it again ]

Notes: So I said it'll be out in a few days but three [3] people asked me for part 2 and I'm a sucker soooooooo!! I could've just written a long ass fic but whatever, I thought I'd make it shorter in headcanons... hah lol right. Enjoy!

Part 1 here!

× he's a wild wolf so he's very active; like you need to understand he needs to go outside if not he'd get impatient, more aggressive, snappy, so once you took him on an easy hiking trail near your house and he loved it so once or twice a month you both go together to different places [ he demands it ]

× it's hard to keep up with him bc he's literally genetically engineered to be better than any very fit human being but he slows down for you

× morning runs at 5 a.m. bc he's insane

× is also a grandpa

× watched all documentaries on any streaming platform you could provide to him, also loves reading

× as months pass and you start to have your routine in order, word comes to you that an acquaintance is looking for a security guard at his mechanical shop two streets away from your house

× you casually mentioned it to Bakugou because he was starting to act anxious whenever you'd leave the house, so you assumed he was extra bored

× seriously, the house was spotlessly cleaned, he cooked amazingly and was occupied with your old laptop and going around the city to explore, but you guessed he wanted more independence?

× little did you know you were right but so wrong lol

× so Bakugou stared at you intensely and asked "Where?"

× it was as easy as telling him the location, him nodding and you thought he'd consider it; you didn't put any pressure on him because he already did so much to help around anyway

× well guess what bitch, next day he comes up to you saying you gotta co-sign his contract [cuz fuck society] meaning he got the job

× he was perfect for it because tall, intimidating, muscular wolf guy? who'd even mess with him? do they have a death wish?

× well, even before this he started to be... soft

× but once you really did show him you support whatever he wants to do, you give him his freedom and liberty of choice, he just reaaally changes, man

× he gets touchy, like his hands stay one second longer on your skin, he uses any excuse to have them on you, even his eyes follow you everywhere

× like c'mon, it's obvious but you didn't wanna put too much thought into it because we're respectful here

× not like you had a big fat crush on him and slowly started to realize it too

× sike bitch he knows

× you think his super-hearing didn't catch the way your heartbeat spikes up every single time he touches you? *please*

× i think he knows before you know

× meanwhile he is working to discover his feelings too

× so your relationship slowly turns into a couple's like relationship but without anything official and of course no kissing or such [ sadly ]

× would get jealous easily

× basically because nothing is talked between you two and deep down is insecure

× why the hell do you smell like other people? was it just a hug or something else? hell, why would you even hug people when he's right there??? just ask and don't touch some extras????

× another thing he does is getting very close to you while you talk to somebody else; scoffs and glares at them too

× ok so!! gifts! he really appreciates any gift you give him but scolds you if you do because you genuinely don't need to do that

× of course he just scolds you and calls you an idiot so I do hope you already learned his language

× it basically means that you shouldn't have done it, he's really grateful but seriously you shouldn't have

× like that one time you saved up money to get him a good computer and he forgot how to speak for like an hour

× the softest thank you ever afterwards

× still sounded rough but he was shocked as fuck

× one thing that remained in your brain were his friends, as sometimes he'd mention them

× so you took it upon yourself to find them, of course with his permission

× gets genuinely overwhelmed and plays it off saying he wouldn't mind knowing where those idiots ended but you didn't miss the way his voice trembled

× for you to find them you needed names and any information he could provide so that's when he, after a long silence and a mesmerized look on his face, started really talking about his life

× which was fucked; won't get much into detail but he was indeed in a fighting ring, people came and bet on whoever was stronger, he even had to fight his friends, everything was filled with abuse and their conditions were subhuman...

× just overall awful

× you couldn't help but hug him tight, feeling him shake in your arms

× with a hesitant voice he asked if you really did think there was a chance to find them

× just couldn't believe how amazing he felt in your arms

× or how your determination that night made his heart clench and took a big weight off his shoulders

× anywho;;;; after his first paycheck he takes you out on cute dates

× never calls them that, just demands you dress up [helps you out cuz boy got style] and takes you to a nice coffee shop or something

× AND on your fifth not date cuz you're not official but there's this weird tension between you date he finally kinda s n a p s

× you honestly didn't expect the waiter to flirt with you, he came out as very pushy and even if you were a lil uncomfortable you smiled and brushed it off

× when the waiter suggested giving you his number the sandy blond hybrid growled

× which i shit you not made the whole coffee shop freeze

× and you froze too

× but neither of you could say anything because the oblivious fuck kept talking

× basically joking about how you should keep your pet in a leash, to which you got up, threw some money on the table, grabbed Bakugou by the hand and leave before he'd rip someone's head off

× it only took you to touch Bakugou's arm to calm him down as he followed behind you wordlessly

× so you stood outside, angry, deep red eyes on your figure

× and silence

× his hand still in yours

× it was warm and amazing and you felt angry but your heart was beating loudly; angry at the waiter that you wanted to go full Karen on and get fired but excited because that growl shook you to the core, as if you could tell it was territorial and it was because of that pig flirting with you and did Bakugou Katsuki just lace his fingers with you?!

× "Oi." he interrupted your thoughts

× he turned your frame towards him and pulled you [kinda harshly] into him

× you'd make a comment about it but brain empty, just Bakugou Katsuki blushing

× "You're mine, you get it?"

× skdjflglykshs

× it sounded like he asked but it was a demand so oops you're his now ok bye

× like I said, boy isn't dumb so he lowkey knew you felt something too

× legit from there on he's just soft as fuck

× has a hard time opening up but visibly tries for you

× still continues to be a pain in the ass, Bakugou Style, but with a loving teasing attitude behind it

× his eyes give him away all the time

× they shine whenever you're in his field of view so congrats because, and this is the best part:

× WOLVES MATE FOREVER 💕💓💞💗💝💟

× oh yeah, he's yours, no takebacks

× he isn't one to half-ass the relationship; you're his now and he'll do anything for you

× big time touch starved it hurts

× because he is shy

× so whenever you introduce him to hand holding and cuddles, he can't get enough

× not big on PDA [ and not recommended since human-hybrid relationships are kiiiinda frowned upon but it's getting better ]

× although at home it's another deal

× seriously cuddle him; he's big into the protector vibe so he's a big spoon almost exclusively unless it's to sleep on top of you

× speaking of! accept that even if your relationship isn't that intimate, he'd still hint about sleeping together in the same bed

× so you better catch on when he does because he'll just click his tongue and call you needy

× while dragging you to bed

× sleeps holding you, his nose in your hair or in the crook of your neck

× unless it's summer then stay on your side 💅

× you know those kisses that just scream "I can't get enough of you"? that's his whole kissing vibe in a sentence

× hell, even the gentlest kiss gives that vibe away and it'll 100% leave you breathless

× doesn't have experience but is a very fast learner

× pays very close attention to your body language

× really into biting your skin enough to leave marks

× wear his hoodies

× no, I'm fucking serious, wear them now

× his chest puffs and he turns into a blushing mess when you do it the first times because his scent is on you

× scenting is a big thing for him so of course he's gonna love it

× 10x more territorial because now he has a mate to protect

× jealous but trusts you

× still very jealous though

× let's all pretend he is definitely not scenting you before you go out because it's in his nature and it is embarrassing

× the first time he tells you he loves you it's when he's feeling vulnerable

× the search for his friends is still on-going, he feels less than adequate as a providing mate, is pissed at the world for treating him like an inferior animal when they created him, everything is piled on his shoulders and whenever than happens he closes off

× you notice immediately

× will not tell you at first

× it's only when you go to bed and he turns his back to you when you really know it's bad

× even if you fought before, he'd angrily snuggle you at night-time

× now it's so different

× hug him, whisper sweet nothings in his ear, pull a blanket all over you both and big spoon him, he'd start shaking and talking in no time

× will hide his tears from you but you'd know

× "You're the best fucking thing that happened to me, [Y/N]... I—... Shit... I love you so much."

× neither of you slept that night

× excuse you? drink some water and pray to jesus;;; you talked about feelings, ok? communication is key in a relationship, puh-lease

× [ i have this whole nsfw hcs post already cookin in my brain so maybe I'll make it happen cuz y'all know he has a mating season and all that comes with it 👀 ]

× back to being children of jesus here

× thanks the moon, the heavens and all the gods for putting you in his life; boy didn't believe in destiny but deep down he thinks you were meant to be

× you still better wash the dishes or you'll get your ass kicked.

Extra:

× you did find some of his friends, little by little, and even if he acted nonchalant, like k das cool, it was obvious he was extremely happy

× so they did get adopted too

× you got in contact with them on social media and they were all very excited about meeting

× so it was a chaotic meeting with a dog hybrid called Kirishima and a mouse like vibrat yellow guy called Kaminari

× they all were looking for Bakugou too since they were very worried about where he ended

× Kirishima shed manly tears when seeing Bakugou

× as they instantly welcomed you in their small group, they informed you both that the majority of the squad was adopted and they're in contact, while they're still actively looking for the others

× cue to the softest expression you've seen on Bakugou in public followed by "That's good"

× silence

× shock and silence

× Kaminari turning to you and whispering "You did this" with a hand on his heart, lips trembling as he wiped an imaginary tear

× insert instantly snappy Bakugou

× when everyone laughed and continued to make plans to meet up with the others, he just looked at you conversing with them, soft expression again on his features and his chest warming

× "Oh! Look, he's doing it again! Quick, take a pictur—"

× "SHINE!"

[mystiika]

so far so good. he's sure was no match in a fight, but if her body language was to be believed then she at least didn't seem poised to attack — a small victory but it gave him some confidence. the immediate shock had worn off some in addition, ( how ever subtle it may be ) his thoughts started to settle.

❝ ... ❞ he considered the options in his mind. he had no reason to trust her intentions as genuine, but if she reallywas serious then maybe some of the guilt from feeding would lessen its overwhelming weight on his shoulders. tnext, as if on cue, comes a slight but silent pang of hunger striking his stomach so he turns back to face her & utters a hesitant ❝ yes. ❞ but at least able to look her in the eye.

then she beckons him closer & he slowly approaches, eyes flickering between the other vampire & the blood he was so irrevocably drawn to. she continued speaking calmly in his ear, her words enough to get him to reach out to take the unfortunate stranger into his arms, he can't help the way his tongue reaches out first, taking a long lick following the seeping blood up towards the source, as if the blood was so precious that he would be remiss to waste a single drop. he even relished the way the blood wet his lips when he drew his tongue back in. it pained him though, knowing how he'd sworn to obey his faith yet was so incredibly desperate for something as prohibited as blood.

still, he soon locates the puncture holes she'd left behind. asher wanted his teeth to sink perfectly into the man's neck, as she had. if he'd asked him why he did such a thing, he'd have been unable to answer. but somewhere, the back of his subconcious mind, he must have assumed that where she'd touch teeth to flesh could only have been the best possible location.

& so, not wanting to take too long & risk the woman changing her mind, he drinks. he makes every effort to be slow. conscious of how greedy he'd look but more so out of worry that the man was being drained enough to feed not one mouth but two. he once again takes her at her word that he'd really survive & recover. he tries to remain as calm as he can, & so also acutely aware of how this situation would have once left his heart racing, but instead... his chest was dead silent. unnerving as it was, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind & far more preferred to focus on the hot blood running down his gullet, the metallic taste that once would have disgusted him now tasting like the most delicious flavour. even the simple scent of it in the air was enough to leave him parched. he doesn't even need to pause to breathe, it's just a steady stream that quenched a thirst so so strong that if the urge grew too great, it would be enough to drive a man mad.

she doesn't stop him, but after a time he straightens himself up again anyway. he wasn't so hungry that he had no control at all, & certainly didn't want to appear greedy. the blood that he did drink was still enough to put his stomach at rest ( for a good while at least ). ❝ thank you. ❞ it feels somewhat formal for the situation, but his sincerity was rang clear. 

❝ ��� you said you could heal him, right? i think i did that to um.. ❞ he pauses, feeling awkward, but was more so unsure of the best choice of words to explain. ❝ ..when i got turned, the first person i... attacked... well when i looked at him afterwards i realised that his neck still looked intact. i thought i must have imagined it because of everything that happened. ❞ he feels bad taking up her time & asking such basic questions when she'd already done him one favour that night. but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to learn of something, of anything that could be of use in this decidedly new life he'd been thrust into.

Bella makes no move as he stammers through his apologies. The young thing is no threat to her, and so in return she makes sure not to present herself as a threat to him.

And then, of course, she hears it.

The rumble of his stomach.

No wonder the poor nervous thing had approached her while feeding. He was hungry.

"You don't have to go so quickly, darling." Bella tilts her head at him. He must be very young. And if he was this hungry, clearly no one was teaching him how to find sustenance that would satisfy him.

"Would you like to eat a little bit?" It's a kind offer, and a rare one. Bella wasn't one for sharing, really, but right now feeding a fledgling was more important. Before he got so hungry it became a problem that needed to be cleaned up.

Reaching out, she waits to see if he'll turn back before beckoning him a little closer. The transition is hard for them all, but especially for those who don't have anyone to show them, as she suspects is the case here.

Plus, if he's only young, there's the pesky element of morality to be addressed as well.

The man under her hands is passed out but alive, as evidenced by the trickle of blood that keeps flowing from the wounds she'd set into his throat.

"He's okay, darling." The elder encourages. "Have a little sip and then we'll heal him up and send him on his way." He'll have lost more blood than Bella normally took on her own, but it certainly wouldn't be enough to kill him.

[bemylord]

aot boys as your boyfriend

♡ character: eren, erwin, armin, jean.

♡ warnings: fluff, gender neutral, some curse words.

♡ note: it's my vision of how aot boyzz will act if they'd fell in love with ya. i already did with levi, so i give a link to that chapter.

ᴇʀᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀɢᴇʀ

you've been stuck in his head the whole night. he has daydreamed about you almost every night.

eren isn't the weak boy who'd be scared to tell you his feelings, just he has some insecurities about it. maybe he feels something because you did awake his titan when nobody can't do that; maybe because he was listening to your voice while he was a titan.

you're dexterous and have some skills in how to kill titans. eren thought maybe your ancestors are ackerman?

but he decidedly tunes himself to ask you on a date. 'y/n, are you busy?' 'nope, eren, is something wrong?' 'yes, no, but.. would you mind to go on a date with me?' so, you had your first date under stars, gazing at the shooting star and made a wish. after that night, you entered into a relationship with a titan boy, without even knowing it.

eren'd call you love or baby. even if you both are in the public, he doesn't care what whoever will say: you're his lover and he wants to make it obvious to everyone.

when you inside walls, having a quiet, kinda day-off from the training and cleaning, eren calls it cuddie-day. why? nothing better to do than having you in his muscular arms, burying his face into your hair and finally rest. you both have a chat about nothing, just half-muttering 'til you both fall asleep.

it's kinda egoist but when you two outside the wall, eren'll keep an eye on you. he kills titans within twenty meters faster than you, so you could continue riding.

his palms have calluses and scars from the fight that he had in the past, but you think it's manly. you always rub his rough skin when you've got the opportunity. for eren, he'll do everything for you just so you keep rubbing his scabrous skin.

during the cuddle session, yeager will cover your face with quick but gentle kisses, holding your jawline delicate, pattering on your cheeks with his thumb.

eren tries to make you feel happy and loveable no matter what. also makes sure that you're knowing that you're safe and protected by him.

you should whisper in his ear dirty phrase, as he gets in the mood right away.

ᴇʀᴡɪɴ ꜱᴍɪᴛʜ

you're his hope and support, his sun and his moon. you mean a lot to him.

overprotective bby. before every expedition, he'll insist on you to stay inside the wall. it's not about trust, it's about he'll be focusing on you, he'll certify every second you aren't surrounded by the titans and you've enough gas.

still, he prefers you to be home, waiting for him. the thought of you biding your captain and lover, gives him the energy to come home safe.

he allows you to wash and treat his wounds after a mission. you kiss his tensed muscular, giving him a soothing back massage, running your hands on his body. 'you finally home, my love. other people and i are safe because of you and your teammates. i'm very proud of you'

after an exhausted and long trip, he asks for a few days off to spend with you.

as your captain, he needs to make sure you're strong and have knowledge of how to kill enemies.

erwin's palms are huge, so you're comparing your hand by pressing your palms in his. after years of using the vertical maneuvering equipment, he also has some calluses. the captain loves those moments when you're interlacing hands, despite his coarse skin. 'do you like hold my hands even if they're unpleasant to the touch?' you laughed, kissed his outer part of the palm. 'yes i do, captain, and i do like kissing them'

his confident way of speaking, you consider as something cute at him.

you need to obey, that erwin is dominant in the relationship.

his favorite kiss is neck or collarbone; pressing the lips against your smooth area around the neck, wrapping his arms around your waist, and mumbles some phrases - best way to kiss.

erwin calls you sweetie or honey. everyone in the survey corps knows you both are dating.

no one from organizations will dare to flirt or say something rude to you: whether it's military or scout regimen. it's quite simple, they're scared to die or be eaten alive by a titan. 'y/n, honey, i just want you to know that i love you' 'i love you too, my love' before and after mission, in the morning or before you both go to sleep, during cuddle, erwin tells you a lot of i love you's

ᴊᴇᴀɴ ᴋɪʀꜱᴄʜᴛᴇɪɴ

i guess jean is the kind of boyfriend who'd hold you by your waist all the time when you're at the public.

those tender and affectional quick kiss on your lips while holding your hands in his.

jean knows what he does whilst kissing you if you get what i mean; holding your waist or he runs his finger down your cheek, drawing patterns on them. in the beginning, jean was timid and uncertain about his movements, he hesitant about what he can do, what he can't. now, he determined the way he kisses his lover.

he likes to brag about you a lot. if someone from the corps is looking at you, he talks to them like that: 'are you jealous that they chose me, not you? get the fuck off them, bastard, or else i'll punch in the face'

he's kinda yandere if someone is staring at you.

if you were brat to him or you had been annoying him for some reason, he'd press you against the wall, holds your hands above your head, smirking at your face expression: he took off guard, you helpless and vulnerable. 'you had been a brat, y/n. do you want my kisses or something more? anyways, i'm here to give everything you've been craving for'

at those moments, jean being as cocky as he could be. he's dominant, controlling your movements, and impudent as fuck.

funny-unfunny jokes; compliments a lot if you feel chagrin or downtrodden. he understood you've been through some difficult problems, and living in the world when you need literally survive every day is sick. that's why jean wants to be your sun and the person who'll protect you.

he prefers to call you heartie [because you got the key to his heart] or angel. 'in the world full of ravenous titans, i want to be the one who makes you smile, heartie. take my hand in your, and let's create our world together'

ᴀʀᴍɪɴ ᴀʀʟᴇᴛ

armin is a sweet boy, who'd treat you like a queen.

read a book before fall asleep. you lay down on his chest, listening his calm voice, falling asleep. it's his preferred to end the day.

far beyond the wall, you are acting in unison: he protected you, you protected him. while he's thinking about a strategy you're killing titans or vice versa.

his hugs are warm and cozy. he put his palms at your back, rubbing your skin through the fabric or if you had some spicy night, pattering on your back indecipherable traces;

those dialogues with a cup of tea, when you half-muttering, in the room, that illuminated by the candles, enjoying that atmosphere.

armin loves to take a bath with you. delicately washing your skin, especially if you've got wounds or injuries. once you fell asleep whilst armin was cleaning you.

i think armin would switch. he likes being a dominant one, having right as he wants to, but he also likes when you're taking the control of his body.

armin has small palms with long fingers, milky skin. his hands always warm and delectable to the touch. in addition, armin is a touchy-feely man: he enjoys hugging or interlacing fingers.

idk why but i think armin'd like to have midnight walks on small alleys in the town, dreaming to change this place. he lives here in fear of the unknown what will be next, so armin'll do everything that he could do.

you capture his spirit, make him lose his breath when you smack your lips against his one's. those spontaneous kisses, you know.

occasionally, he gets sudden bursts of tenderness lol but hear me out: you both are doing nothing or training together when suddenly armin wants to kiss or cuddle you. it's just something tantalizing feeling he got. 'you're so beautiful right now, y/n, i want to give you a kiss' 'only now?' you smiled, receiving a shy kiss. armin blushed at your words; he doesn't mean you look unattractive yesterday or something like that. 'i'm sorry, baby, i didn't mean it, i-' 'i've got you, love, don't worry. let me give my kiss' armin gave you a thousand kisses later, as a token of his infinite love for you.

//~~//

yeap i did it. soon part 3 with tsukki-tsukki.

tomorrow i'll post a request with tsukki and do the rest with aot boys.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 04 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part (03)

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{Vikings Masterlist}

×

Fit For a Princess

You're listening to the chattering between Aslaug and Helga, looking at pieces of jewelry at the market place. You say something every now and then, but you can't shake away Ivar's stare. On the last days, two weeks or so, he's right there, sitting across from you on every meal, eyes burning through you. Hvitserk said he's studying you, still expecting you to snap, to decide you had enough of all this and want to go back home. To Wessex, where your older brother now rules. And Ragnar already said he'd take you back if you wanted, so there's that.

But leaving Kattegat hasn't even crossed your mind, not before and not now. How could you trade all you have here, and slide back into the invisible chains you had on? It wouldn't be just stupid, it would be the death of you. You're finally understanding who you are, the things you like, the kind of people you like. In England, you had to play a specific role, because everything was political. Here, you're just who you are. And you do what you want to do. This is true freedom.

“I really like this one,” Helga says, as your eyes wander through the many rings, earrings, and necklaces. “I'd like those two as well.” She continues as you pace around, further away from both women, turning the corner and then walking to another store. The pieces they have here are all made of metal, delicately bent into beautiful shapes. You caress a bracelet with the tip of your fingers, wondering if it'd look good on you.

“Don't waste your time with these cheap things.” The voice, that you now recognize immediately, makes you turn around. Ivar comes from among the people, only stopping when he's standing next to you.

But despite his attention being on the jewelry, your eyes are on him. “You're tall.” It comes out suddenly, because he never stood beside you like this, so you couldn't have noticed.

“Well, you're tiny.” Ivar glances at you, playing with one of the rings. “Anyway, you shouldn't be looking at these things. They won't suit you very well.”

Giving the old man an apologetic look, you randomly pick a bracelet. You don't get why Ivar is being rude, but, judging by what Hvitserk had told you, his brother isn't one to hold back. He says what he thinks, it doesn't matter how mean it may sound to others. You're still trying to figure out if this level of brutal honesty is good or bad. “I really like this one.” Searching on the small bag attached to your dress, you take four coins, way more than what the bracelet is worth, handing it over to the man and putting the bracelet on. The silver color is beautiful, and the drawings carved on it remind you of the pattern you saw on one of the boats that brought you here.

Ivar rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, sighing. “You are such a kind princess.” Dropping the ring, he starts walking side by side with you when you set in motion through the market. You weren't expecting that.

“King Ecbert was king of Wessex. This isn't Wessex.”

“(Y/N)! Wait for us.” Aslaug calls and you stop, giving her a look and a nod before turning to face Ivar, who towers over you.

“Therefore, I'm not a princess anymore.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give him a small smile.

“That's a shame, isn't it?” He lowers his voice, leaning closer.

“Not really.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give a little step back, putting a strand of hair behind your ears before giving him a little wave, walking back to where both women are.

After they're done shopping, as you walk back home, the clouds push themselves apart just enough for the sunlight to appear. That makes you stop, taking in the warmth on your skin, but it soon disappears.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Hvitserk calls, coming from the beach with his father, Ubbe and Bjorn, who's walking behind them. “We're going to meet some traders. Wanna come?”

“Why not?” You mumble, elbowing Hvitserk when he's close enough.

“Go put on some pants then. We're riding there.”

“Oh.” It's so absurd it's stupid, how you can't seem to do the simple things people know by heart here. “I'm not very good at riding.” Whispering, you tell him, not wanting anyone else to listen.

“I'll help you out.” He nods, tilting his head to where Bjorn is. “Without cracking your head open in the process.”

Smiling you nod before heading inside to change out of the dress. You're just about to head out when Aslaug tells you to grab a cloak in case it rains later, so you have to make another trip to your room. But soon enough you meet Hvitserk and the others again, reading the horses.

“Which one is mine?”

“Over here.” Hviserk guides to a beautiful white horse. “Give me your leg.” He says, and for a moment you furrow your eyebrows, but soon enough you understand what he means. Raising your leg, Hvitserk grabs your calf and you push yourself up, successfully mounting on the horse with his help. It feels funny to be this tall. You have ridden before, but most of the time you used a carriage. There was no need for a princess to ride on the back of a horse at Wessex. It's wild though, and you've grown to love wild things. “Keep your feet like this on the stirrups at all times. Don't put of your feet all the way in or it might get stuck if you fall. If you touch her with your ankles, she'll move forward. Pull the halters and she'll stop. The same thing goes to pull her left or right, but since we'll ride together she'll just follow the other horses.”

“Got it.”

“Your ass might hurt at the end of the day, so be prepared.” He warns before jumping to the back of his horse. “If it'll help you feel more steady, you can hold on the saddle, but trust me, you'll get the hang of it once you lose the fear of falling.”

“Have you ever fallen from a horse before?” As you speak, the small group starts moving, and your mare does the same, keeping their pace, slow at first until everyone starts galloping, and all air leaves your lungs. You hold tightly to the saddle, scared at first, but you remember what Hvitserk just told you. If you let the fear of falling win, you'll never learn to ride properly, and you'll never enjoy it. Slowly, you let go of the saddle, holding only on the halters, making sure it's loose so she'll feel free to run.

And the sensation is amazing. The wind makes your hair whip your face over and over, and you lightly shake your head to get rid of it. Glancing at Hvitserk, you mirror his position, a smile creeping over your lips. The landscape, green, blue, and gray, passes by in a blur, and you try to take it all in. It's beautiful, breathtaking. Almost literally, because when you finally stop, you're struggling to catch your breath.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” You answer, and Hvitserk nods before moving to stand next to his father and brother. You see a small troop approaching, riding up the hill.

“You're quite good at this,” Bjorn says, guiding his horse away from his siblings and near you. “A few more lessons you'll be riding like a true Viking.”

“I really like it. Its... Thrilling.” You're finally calming down, and your thighs ache a little bit.

“Wanna see the traders coming?” Turning his horse around, he gestures at a cliff, not too many miles away. “We could go up there, it'll give us a nice view.”

“Isn't it a little high?”

“The horses are used to it. C'mon.” Without waiting for your answer, he starts galloping away.

Glancing at Hvitserk, you hold the halter tightly to keep the mare from moving. “You think I should?”

“Sure, it has a nice view. But if you feel like the trail there is too much you come back here, alright? The horses are used to it but you're not.”

“Alright.” Touching the mare with your ankles, you loose the halter and she immediately moves, following Bjorn's horse. It doesn't take much until you're deep inside the woods, the horses now trotting. Bjorn keeps silent, giving you a few glances since you're slightly behind him.

“That way.” He says, and you just let your ride follow his. The smooth ground soon starts changing, with more rocks, and becomes unravel. When you see a steep slope, with apparently nothing to hold on to, you pull the halters, making the mare stop.

“I think it's too craggy.” You speak up, getting Bjorn's attention. “I don't want to fall on my first try.”

“She's used to this kind of inclination. You'll be fine.”

Considering it and also what Hvitserk said, you decide to leave the cliff viewing for another day, when you feel more secure on the horse. “I think I'll pass, Bjorn. Maybe another cliff where I can go on foot.”

“Don't be a pussy. It's not that craggy.” Then, he kicks his horse hard and it sets in motion. It doesn't surprise you, but when the mare moves as well, following him, you're startled, and in the sudden change, you let the halter fall.

Holding on the sell, you can only watch as Bjorn's horse easily climbs the slope, at a fast pace, and yours do the same. But when it suddenly turns left, around a huge rock, you lose your balance, and since there's nothing to hold on to, both your feet escape the stirrups, and you're pulled to the ground hard. Losing your breath, a sting on your ankle makes you yelp as you roll down the slope, only stopping once the ground is flat again. Rolling on your back, you take deep breaths, trying not to move the left leg since the pain is spreading through your foot and calf. “Damn it!” You exclaim, removing the hair from your face.

“(Y/N)!” It takes only a few seconds until you see Bjorn kneeling by your side. “Are you alright?”

“I just fell from a horse and rolled down a hill!” You speak fast, the pain on your back making itself aware. “Of course I'm not fine!”

“Let me take you–” He says as he starts to pull you up.

“No.” You cut him off, slapping his hands away. Bjorn has done enough for today. If he wasn't trying to be a freaking show-off, this wouldn't have happened. “Go get–”

“(Y/N)?” You hear his voice and breathes out relief. “I heard a yell.”

“Over here. Lying on the ground.” Annoyed, you cover your eyes with both hands. “Can you please see if my ankle is broken?”

“What happened?” He asks in a low voice, and you uncover your eyes to see him jumping to the ground, kneeling next to your stretched out leg.

“Bjorn made his horse bolt up the slope and mine followed.” You explain, giving him a hard glance, groaning when Hvitserk lifts your leg to remove your boot. “Easy there!”

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “But calm down, it's not broken, just sprained.”

“Shit.” Taking a deep breath, you sit up taking off the other boot as well and throwing it at Bjorn. “You can't keep yourself from getting me hurt, can you?”

“Me? Everything you had to do was hold on. The horse–”

“I'm not a Viking!” Bursting out, you look up at him. “I'm not some shieldmaiden, I'm still trying to fit in here and learn things. You can't expect me to follow your pace.”

“I just–”

“Bjorn, you should get back. Help father with the traders, I'll take her back to Kattegat.” Hvitserk interrupts him, and Bjorn leaves after a grunt, saying something you couldn't understand.

“And he thinks he has the right to be pissed!” Lying back down, you groan. “I think this is a sign to stay away from him. Every time he's in the situation, I get hurt.”

“Alright, c'mon.” Hvitserk pulls your arm until you're seated again. “You need to put some ice on this ankle, let's go.” Hvitserk takes your mare first, tying her up with his horse before mounting and pulling you up to ride with him.

Despite the slow pace he keeps, your back still hurts. Resting your head on his back, you sigh. “Why are you so quiet?” You ask after a while.

“I'm thinking about the right words to tell this to mother. She won't be happy.” He answers, a hand resting on his thigh as the other holds the halter. “She's not very fond of Bjorn already.”

“It was partially my fault too, I think. I let the halter slip and had nothing to hold on to.”

“You're know Bjorn likes you, right?” Hvitserk suddenly says, and you pinch your eyebrows together. This thought hasn't crossed your mind. “That's probably why he did that. That's how he... Gets a woman's attention.”

“Would you do the kindness of telling him it's not working?” Muttering, you rest both your arms on his back folding them as if his shoulders were a table. “Actually, I've been meaning to tell you... I met Ivar at the market place today.”

“...And?” He asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Nothing, just... It was nothing, really.” It's hard to understand exactly what you want to tell Hvitserk. You just can't seem to put your feelings or thoughts together. “I was looking at these things and he said they wouldn't suit me.” Stretching out your arm, you show him the bracelet. “I bought this there.”

“That's nice. But cheap.” Rolling your eyes, you remember Ivar said pretty much the same thing.

“He also said I'm kind. But that was probably in a mocking tone, so...” You get into Kattegat, and Hvitserk greets some people. “I don't know.”

“I believe it's safe to assume Ivar doesn't hate you.” Hvitserk slows down the horse when a group of kids run by. “If he did, he wouldn't put himself on your way like that... Or look at you the way he does.”

“And how does he look at me?” The words come out slowly because you're not sure if you want to know.

“The only thing I can say for sure is that he never looked at a woman like that.” You finally get to Ragnar's house, and Hvitserk asks a man to help you down. Once you're safe on the ground, he jumps off, telling the man to take the horses. “And I mean it in a good way.”

He puts a hand around your waist, helping as you jump on the right foot until the table in the main hall. “Do you think he–”

“What happened this time?” Aslaug asks, her voice already giving out that she's not happy.

“Twisted ankle. She fell from the horse.”

“Take her to her room, Hvitserk.” The Queen mutters, saying something to the girls who were following her. “And carry her this time if that isn't too much to ask.”

“Alright.” He replies, picking you up with a hand on the small of your back and another under your legs, quickly finding the way to your chambers.

Giggling, you give him a look “I love when your mother–”

“Careful with the teasing this time. I might just drop you to the floor and I don't care if your a princess who fell off a horse.” The fake angry tone makes you laugh again.

“My bad, Prince Hvitserk.” You snap back, rolling your eyes.

Aslaug has her maids help you bathe first, cleaning the dirt that is attached to your face and hair before lying you on the bed again and applying a piece of fabric with cold water on your ankle, keeping it elevated with some pillows. She isn't happy to know the whole story, despite you assuring her it's alright now. You could've died, she said, breaking your neck. But it's useless to worry about what could've happened. The best thing to do now is to focus on the ankle, which she said will be better in a few days, and let the whole incident go.

Later that night, you give little jumps to the main hall to eat something. It's just Ubbe and Bjorn, seated on a table at the corner. Nodding at them, not wanting to chat with Bjorn at the moment, you sit at the edge of the table in the middle, your back turned at both men, taking the jar and pouring yourself something to drink.

“How's your ankle?” Ubbe asks, and you look over your shoulder.

“It's fine. I'll be able to walk normally in a few days. But my back still hurts.” Completely ignoring Bjorn's existence, you turn away from them again.

Drumming your fingers on the table, you wait for the Queen's maids to bring your meal. When you feel someone moving behind your back, you assume it's them, and place your cup further away to open some space. But instead of the bowl with rabbit stew, a necklace is put down before you. And it's absolutely beautiful, with three blue stones surrounded by a golden metal, delicately molded around it. It's different from anything you've ever seen in Wessex. Taking it in your hands, you see Ivar dropping to the seat next to you, and you turn to look at him.

“What is it?” You ask, unable to hide the smile that comes to your lips.

“A necklace.” He simply says, and you roll your eyes at his tone. What a way to ruin the mood.

“Yeah, I noticed.” The smile slowly drops as your eyes go back to the piece, fingertips caressing one of the stones.

“This was made for a princess. Not those cheap things.” He gestures at your bracelet, and you giggle.

“Well, this is absolutely beautiful.” Glancing at him, you find he was already staring. “Is it for me?” You inquire in a lower voice, not wanting to make any assumptions that might embarrass you.

Ivar nods, lightly pushing your shoulder. “Turn around. Let me put it on.”

Doing as he says, you turn your back at him. Ivar takes the necklace and places it around your neck, and you hold your hair up so he can close it on the back. Once he's done, you let the hair fall before turning to face him, folding your left leg and carefully laying the wounded ankle on the bench between you and Ivar. “How does it look?”

You wait for an answer, but it doesn't come. Ivar's eyes were fixed on the necklace, but slowly, they come to meet yours. Tilting your head to the side a little, you feel heat spreading through your cheeks.

Shaking your head lightly and looking down, you take a deep breath. “Have you heard that I fell from a horse this afternoon?” You're glad you got your brain to function, changing the subject. “Twisted my ankle.”

Ivar's stare falls to your bare feet on the bench, the skirt of your dress pulled up to your knee. “Mother told me it was someone else's doing.” As he speaks, Ivar gives an angry stare at where his two brothers are, and it's obvious who he's looking at. “But I think you'll survive.” You feel his fingers caressing your skin, from your knee and down through your calf, so softly you wonder if he's really touching you.

“I will.” You assure him, biting back a smile.

“Ivar,” Ragnar calls, and it does take a while until you both look at where he's standing, near the thrones. “Your mother wants to speak with you.”

“What now?” He asks, annoyed.

“I don't know. Go ask her.” And he disappears.

“Guess I'll have to go.” He glances at you, grabbing the clutch.

But before he can push himself up, you grab his arm. Perhaps you shouldn't do it. Perhaps this whole thing is just some kind of joke he's pulling on you, but still, the necklace is beautiful and he was... Kind. So you lean closer to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for the gift. It's very beautiful.”

Ivar is frozen, even after you let go of his arm. He stands there, blue eyes locked on yours. Slowly, painfully slow, a smile comes to his lips. And it feels different. True, genuine. “You're welcome, princess.” He whispers before pushing himself up to his feet and walking away.

You're still a little dazed when the rabbit stew comes, and you can do nothing but play with the spoon. But heavy footsteps get your attention, and when you look at your side, you catch a glimpse of a very angry Bjorn disappearing inside.

He saw everything. And it takes you by surprise to notice that, the moment you laid eyes on Ivar, you immediately forgot Bjorn and Ubbe were here. Everything just... Faded away, and there was nothing else, just you and him. And this is not the first time it happens.

×

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[nexyra]

RWBY's Love Language - Part 2

Hello friend ! I'm back at it with a second part and whatever character I can think of ! (Among which best boy Oscar because he deserves it, and also more adults)

Let's go !

***

Oscar Pine

So ! While I love Oscar with my whole heart, honestly guessing his Love Language is no easy feat. One thing for sure : touch isn't is thing even if it's how everyone else chose to communicate their love.

I saw a post a while back detailing how Oscar is always putting his hands up as a barrier when he's scared or uncomfortable and that makes me cry a little instead but it's true TT. Anyway...

In the latest volumes we've got quite a bit of comforting Oscar-talks but I have to wonder how much of that is due to Ozpin's influence really. As a result I've decided to settle on... Acts of Service or Quality Time ! This is based on a few details : when people are upset with him in one shape or form, Oscar was always very eager to prove himself useful, give some aspect of concrete help (such as cooking a Casserole, ringing any bell ?). Plus I imagine that's the exact brand of help his Aunt would have needed most on a farm. Added to that, he always seems fairly happy to be included, be with the others no matter what's going on. Training ? Yay ! A movie with Jaune & Weiss ? Smiling puppy look. Fancy party ? Shenanigans together ! So yea, I love seeing my boy loved and hugged but please everyone settle for the loving he's most comfortable with <3

“She made a choice! A choice to put others before herself! So do I.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I thought you guys would appreciate a hot meal after... spending all day looking for me, apparently.”

“No, it's okay. These past few days, I've been scared of the same things you were. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be... me. But I did some thinking, and I do know that I want to do everything I can to help with whatever time I have left.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Ozpin

For our favorite immortal wizard aka not quite dead Headmaster... I think the answer is rather obvious. When you're so careful with your words, but also so fiercely devoted to humanity, Words of Affirmation is a must. Ozpin constantly does his best to calm, to reassure. He's good at controlling the conversation and getting people where he wants... Except he more often than not use it to make them think and help them reach an healing ore motivating conclusion. This man is so insisten on giving and cultivating hope, so painfully aware of just how much words can change... There's no doubt in my mind that it's through these very same words that he tries to fight the darkness in others' mind, even when they don't want to let themselves be persuaded. And with some help from the farmboi, Ozpin is gaining in honesty and earnestness. And that can only help in giving comfort.

But to be honest... If you offer him a hug I doubt he'd refuse, and he definitely deserves one. Also therapy. For Oscar too. Everyone in therapy 2k21.

“Ruby. I've made more mistakes than any man, woman, and child on this planet. But at this moment I would not consider your appointment to leader to be one of them. Do you?”

“It's not every day that friends are able to come together like this. Time has a way of testing our bonds, but it's nights like these that can help keep them stronger than ever. Nights like these are ones we'll never forget.”

“Don't worry, Mr. Arc. Your journey is far from over, and the same might be said for all of you. Unlocking your Semblance isn't the end. It can still grow and evolve. Providing you are willing to put in the work, who knows what could happen?”

- - - - - - - - - -

Emerald Sustrai

Now here I'm gonna go ahead and say that the way Emerald has been taught to express her love and the way SHE would rather preffered to be loved most likely do not align. At the side of someone like Cinder, and even Mercury who isn't exactly the most emotionally vulnerable person; the only brand of love that gets an easy pass is Acts of Service, and that's probably what Emerald is the most used to. I can go on a mission with you. I can help. We go right back to the "I can be useful" mentality and I'm not sure she's been shown any other way honestly. Let's be real though : if someone offered a hug or some gentle words ? She'd probably pout & fuss but I hardly doubt she'd object.

“I don't care about Salem! But I owe Cinder everything. You want to fight her that bad? Be my guest.”

“I just... Cinder was the only family I ever had. She cared about me, taught me things... But without her here, I don't know if what we're doing--”

“I've been working on my Semblance. I can help. I won't tell anybody.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Pyrrha Nikos

What's with everyone and dedicating their whole love toward just helping their teammates anyway they can ?! Stop ! But any way, you guessed it. I'm pretty sure one of Pyrrha's top way of showing love is Acts of Service, and nothing means quite as much to her as Quality Time. For someone who's been put on a pedestal and has a hard time relating to people; both touch and words can be a bit awkward. But if they're wrapped up neatly in a training session or semblance explanations ? Well that's already a more familiar area. Pyrrha gives her whole to her friends and those she cares about. And in exchange, if anyone can simply... be there and spend time with her... May it be at the ball or simply sitting in the courtyard... I'm sure our girl would be delighted.

“Jaune, you know if you ever need help, you can just ask.”

“I'm constantly surrounded by love and praise; but when you're placed on a pedestal like that for so long, you become separated from the people that put you there in the first place. But thanks to you, I've made friendships that will last a lifetime.”

“I'll do it. If you believe this will help humanity, then I will become your Fall Maiden.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Qrow Branwen

If I say Gift Giving for the corvid, is someone gonna hit me ? Come on it's fun ! Okay, more seriously... I think this kind of love conversation is kind of a necessity for Qrow. With a semblance such as Bad Luck, making everything complicated... Qrow tries to keep his distance from those he cares about. And since he's an emotionally repressed (but caring) asshole on top of it... Well that kinda narrows down his option. You know what DOESN'T put anyone at risk but can still bring smiles on their face ? GIFTS. Shiny things, souvenirs from his missions all over the world to give to 2 smol nieces. Sounds safe right ? That said, as any good emotionally unavailable character in this show, I gotta say Qrow probably has a thing for helping out and making himself useful in relation to Oz, Tai or the rest of the inner circle. So you know what that means *whisper* Acts of Service.

That said ! When it comes to receiving some love back... Qrow probably likes everything he doesn't allow himself to have. Soft touches, loving & comforting words, spending time with a friend without his semblance making everything complicated... We know that's all he wants.

“You idiot. I know you didn't do this.”

“Look, pal, I'm not sure who you are, but you need to leave my niece alone.”

“No one wanted me... I was cursed... I gave my life to you because you gave me a place in this world... I thought I was finally doing some good...”

- - - - - - - - - -

Clover Ebi

And among our newbies (and gone too soon) friends we have Clover ! Clover was a very good contrast to our dusty old crow but also a great help. Kind-hearted, perceptive and honest; he knew just how to put Qrow's self-loathing in his place and push him to give himself some credit. He always had a nice word or a joke for everyone, and visibly the rock of the Ace Ops : an expert a keeping the moral up and the mood companiable. Evidently, Words of Affirmation was his expertise. Had things gone differently, I'm sure we'd have had time for many more earnest and helpful conversations with this teal-eyed fisherman.

“It's a good thing they had someone to look up to and get them through it. Not everyone is so lucky.”

“I meant deflect a compliment. Those kids wouldn't be where they are without you. You've had more of an effect on them than you realize.”

“We don't have to fight, friend.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Winter Schnee

And today in the "emotionally unavailable" category we have... Winter Schnee ! TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS PEOPLE ! Just - I would say look at Ruby but even she doesn't talk about her bad vibes... Nor does any of the "Words of Affirmation" peeps. Honestly what's wrong with y'all people ? Anyway Winter cares so much. Is it hidden behind professionalism and a stern *big sister* demeanour ? Sure. But it doesn't negate just how much she loves her closed ones. She's fiercely loyal, and even if she doesn't let her personal feelings get in the way of her duty and doing what needs to be done, no one is allowed to say she doesn't care. Countrary to Weiss, Winter doesn't seem as good nor as aware of the love that exists in simply *being* with people. Rather, she's dutiful and ready to help any way she can when given the chance. You guessed it, yet another Acts of Service kind of love... Maybe I'm doing this wrong XD. I'm on the fence about Words of Affirmation as well. Despite her standoffish looks, Winter has always been very open & reassuring during her discussions with Penny. But she's more stern when it comes to Weiss so I dunno x)

“I don't recall asking about your ranking, I'm asking how you've been. Are you eating properly? Have you taken up any hobbies? Are you making new friends?”

“You've grown up a bit, haven't you? You're not the little girl clinging to the family name anymore.”

“You can't just buy trust like everything else! You have to earn it!”

And that's it for Part 2 ! I might do some other characters if people suggest some but I don't have a pressing need to right now. I have many ideas of songs to apply to various characters however so that's prob what my next posts will consist of (or fun templates)

If anyone has tips to create RWBY gifs or links to download the eps in good quality I'll take it ! Good day everyone !

[inhcritance]

No, Harry thought, it definitely hadn't worked out for the dead mouse, and he didn't really wish on any mouse the other's fate. It also added yet another concern to the list of potential problems with the serum, making it long enough that if the situation were another, he'd have gladly put a lid on it. Alas, that was not an option. All he could do was minimize risks, one after another, and learn from others' mistakes.

Especially when the situation in this universe was similar enough to be uncanny, and different enough to be worth analyzing it, properly.

"So, he was focused on something to the detriment of everything else, but there was no amnesia." He summarized, a hand on his chin. "Heightened obsession and aggression, and I wouldn't be too surprised if the serum magnified both his drive and his sense of accomplishment."

He noted both in shorthand, in the corners of the page he was using to help himself organize his thoughts. It was eerily familiar, in a way, and he was no stranger to how power felt after feeling limited, for one reason or another.

"Power can twist people. Maybe he'd have calmed down, in time," he considered. "Maybe it'd have gotten worse. But if the changes were made to be permanent, then both are equally likely. Either he'd have adapted to his new situation, or it would have twisted him further. The woes of highly experimental science."

And yet another reason to fear what Harry's own experiments might turn him into, in the long run.

"In theory, Connors' ideas have a lot of merit." He mused. "But turning everyone into lizards is just not the way to go."

He took another glance at the formula, committing it to memory, taking some further notes.

"Our Connors couldn't speak, as far as I know. A lot of growling and roaring, but he was mostly instinct-driven." He added. "He also kept growing, and then could barely remember anything after the fact. Or so said Oscorp's files. But he did not keep his intelligence."

Keeping his own mind after the serum was something Harry was very, very grateful for. Bothersome instincts notwithstanding.

@localwebslingers

More specifically geared simulations would probably be a lot more effective than what he and Conners were working with, “Ours simulated in the mice he had first to gauge if it was a success, but I don’t think it ended up mattering…” Peter grimaced slightly and glanced up at Harry, “The lab mouse he injected it into regrew a lost limb too, and the next day it broke out of its glass case, mutated, and was eating the other one. I honestly have no idea what happened to it after that, but clearly it hadn’t really worked for either of them.” if it was mirroring what happened with Conners, in theory, Fredy was a normal three legged mouse again. 

That or there was a tiny monstrosity running loose in Oscorp’s walls. Peter really wasn’t sure which one he could say was more likely.

Peter returned the small smile and nodded, “You know where to find me when you have them…and probably a few good guesses of how too if I’m not already in here.” it was a light tease, but might not be any less true. He was perfectly comfortable and willing to answer any of Harry’s questions about it, if he actually could. Not just because he thought it might be something that could help, but he trusted Harry enough to have that information given to him and treat it with the caution and understanding it needed.

“During the serum the first time I went up against him he didn’t even talk.” he said, “It was out at the Queensboro Bridge, he threw a bunch of cars over the side and seemed focused on one in particular but I couldn’t say for sure who was in it or why,” he was kind of busy catching the cars and pulling Jack out of the one he was in, “When the serum wore off he seemed…distracted, almost. He knew what had happened, or seemed to know from the way he was talking, but it was like having taken it at all affected how he was thinking.”

He tapped his pen against the papers lightly, “But he was still intelligent, he maintained that even while under the effects of the serum but he wasn’t thinking clearly. He kept talking about how humans were inferior and needed to be made better, that he knew how and could save everyone by making them like he was and that’s not…that wasn’t him. Or maybe it was, he talked about his work as a way to make a world without weaknesses. Cure any ailment, repair any damage, that kind of thing. So maybe the serum just twisted that reasoning into something dangerous, I don’t know. He was aggressive, too. Seemed to be able to focus on smells and body heat at least. I couldn’t really tell you if he lashed out more or not though, since I was actively fighting him.”

\\ @inhcritance \\