#I wILL color these eventually i must hold myself to this

[heart-of-tyria]

Been thinking I should do a series where I draw all the Firstborn,,, kinda a sudden thing but I think it'd at least help me draw more if I do

Played around with it by sketching a few today so please enjoy

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[hardly-an-escape]

inspired by this gorgeous art by @newtkelly 🌹💕

It's just a normal Tuesday. They're about two hours out from the end of their shift and Buck is upstairs in the kitchen, finishing up the dinner dishes, when Chimney's voice floats up from the floor below.

"Hey, uh... hey Buck? I think you have a visitor."

He sounds a little weird, almost like he's trying to hide something. Buck frowns and grabs a dishtowel. "Be right down," he calls back.

He hops down the last few steps, rounds the front of an engine at a jog, opens his mouth to ask what's going on and – stops dead.

Tommy is standing in the middle of the ambulance bay, feet planted like he's expecting someone to come along and shove him out the big garage doors – and from the slightly murderous glare Eddie is throwing his way, it might be a valid concern. He's wearing a cream colored Henley and his hair is tousled, a couple artful locks falling over his brow.

But what stops Buck in his tracks – what roots his boots to the floor and makes his mouth drop slightly open – are the flowers.

Tommy's arms are absolutely overflowing with roses. There's got to be at least two dozen, maybe even three, wrapped in classic brown paper with a bright ribbon holding it closed. They're full and perfectly opened and a deep, rich red, with a handful of pink and white carnations scattered through the bouquet that, rather than distracting from the roses, just make them look even more luxurious by comparison.

"Hey," Tommy says. "Happy Valentine's Day, Evan. Can we talk?"

Buck spends at least two and a half seconds fruitlessly opening and closing his mouth.

"Valentine's Day isn't until Friday," is what eventually comes out. He can practically hear Eddie's eye roll from behind him.

One corner of Tommy's mouth lifts in a tight little smile. "I know," he says. "But this is the day I knew for sure you'd be on shift, so."

"Oh. Right," Buck says stupidly.

"These are for you." Tommy hefts the armful of roses and Buck automatically steps forward to take them. His fingers brush the backs of Tommy's hands as he does so.

He could swear he feels a spark. Maybe it's just static electricity. But Tommy's eyes widen minutely, so he must feel it too, whatever it is.

"You, uh. You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah. Yes." Tommy clears his throat. Buck is intensely aware of the fact that they have an audience. Eddie is still frowning, Chim is doing a very bad job pretending he's not hanging on every word they say, and even Bobby has paused what he was doing to lean too-casually against a wall, arms folded and carefully neutral expression on his face. "I have thought... so much about what I want to say to you. I've gone around and around, telling myself if I could just find the right words, I could make you understand. And then telling myself I haven't even earned the right to try." Tommy takes a deep breath. "It shouldn't have taken me so long to get my shit together and come talk to you. You deserved better than that, Evan. But I... I'm here now."

"I'm listening," Buck says. He's glad he can hold the flowers, because he doesn't know what to do with his hands. Tommy seems to be having the same problem; he clasps them awkwardly in front of himself, then unclasps them, then goes to shove them in his pockets and seems to change his mind, rubbing them briefly against his hips instead.

"Thank you. Thank you for being willing to listen," he says. "I... I never found exactly the right words. But I know what I want to say. First, I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I fucked up, and I panicked, and I just kept panicking until it felt like it was too late to do anything else. Second, there are still things I hope we can talk about, things I tried to say that night that I couldn't get out right. Stuff about my past, and questions about the future. But most important... Third. I do want a future with you, Evan. Everything you said that night, I want it so... so badly. And it took me walking out to realize that, because I'm an idiot, and a coward, but all I learned by being without you these last couple of months was..."

Tommy trails off. His eyes have never looked so blue. "Was how much I don't want to be without you," he says simply.

There's a long moment of silence. You could hear a pin drop in the firehouse. It's as if everyone in the building is holding their breath. All Buck can see is Tommy – Tommy, with his broad shoulders, and his fidgety hands, and his blue eyes, full of hope and tears.

"Can someone come take these flowers, please?" Buck says over his shoulder, without unlocking his eyes from Tommy's. Chimney comes up behind him and gently takes the bouquet from his hands, stepping back without a word.

Buck takes a step forward. And then another. And then Tommy steps too, and then their arms are wrapped tightly around each other, cheeks pressed together, and it's as if the entire station heaves a sigh of relief.

"You are an idiot," Buck whispers fiercely into Tommy's neck.

"I know."

"This doesn't magically fix the fact that I'm still really mad at you."

"I know, Evan. I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I promise."

Buck pulls back far enough to look Tommy in the eye again, and what he sees there reassures every uncertain inch of him: sincerity. Hope. Apology. Even – he dares to hope – love.

He begins to lean back in, but before he can crush his mouth to Tommy's, the bell rings – because of course it does – and the alarm squawks, calling the 118 to a house fire a couple neighborhoods over. Buck reluctantly tears himself loose and heads for the engine.

"Don't you dare leave!" he yells to Tommy, pointing a dramatic finger at him.

"I won't! I'll wait right here for you!" Tommy yells back.

Chim claps Tommy on the shoulder and shoves the bouquet back in his hands as he runs past. The last thing Buck sees before they pull out and round the corner is Tommy's smile, blindingly bright above a cascade of red roses.

ETA: now there's a part two!

[worldstarz]

genshin men voicelines about you

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

pairing: gn!reader x kaeya / diluc / thoma / ayato / tartaglia / ayato / albedo / itto / kazuha (separate)

a/n: xiao bonus at the end! could not think of anything that wouldn’t feel contradictory to his other voicelines, but maybe i’ll make a part 2 with some other men i missed + eventually with the girls. sorry for anything ooc bc i haven’t played genshin in over a year 😛

cw: blood mention, itto is a loser

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

KAEYA

Oh, [name]? They’re many things, certainly. Dependable, attentive, easy on the eyes - ah, but I can't say too much. Is it so bad I want to keep something precious for myself?

DILUC

You’re asking about [name]? Why is that? …you’re curious about our relationship? I thought I made it obvious that they’re my partner—not for business, but romantically. I like to keep my personal life, well, personal, so forgive me for not divulging too much information.

THOMA

I was actually about to go see them right now! It’s hard for me to get some free time, but whenever I do, there’s nothing better than spending it with [name]! No matter how tired I am, I always feel recharged right away when they’re around, and then I can work even harder!

TARTAGLIA

Do you think [name] would like this necklace? Or maybe this bracelet? How about both? Maybe I should get these in different colors, too. Wait, I think I have enough mora on me to buy the entire stand—what? Why are you giving me that look?

AYATO

A day polluted by meetings with people I do not have the energy to care for, futile attempts at gaining power from my opponents, endless bartering… my, I hate to spoil the mood, but I do need a refresher. Pardon me as I send a servant to fetch my beloved [name] for me. I won’t be long. Once I see their face, we may go back to our discussion.

ALBEDO

[name]? Yes, they’re my partner. …Why do you look so surprised? I know I have said maintaining relationships is difficult, but they are very patient and willing to meet me halfway. I also cannot deny my attraction to them. It doesn’t affect my research whatsoever. Rather, their affections motivate me to research something new everyday for conversations with them. …Perhaps I am also meeting them halfway.

ITTO

What? You surprised a stone cold gang leader like me can score a hottie like [name]? Make this a lesson to never doubt Arataki “numero uno novio” Itto! Well, uh, I gotta admit, they are kinda outta my league… H-Hold on, why do you wanna know so much? You trying to find my weak spots or something? No… you couldn’t possibly… be trying to steal them from me?! Oho, you’re messing with the wrong gu- wait, get those beans away from me!!!!

KAZUHA

If I were to pick between losing my voice or losing [name], may the earth be granted my silence. If I must bleed out for thousands of years for even the slightest chance to lay beside them, may the blade of the sword be sharp. If granting them an eternal life of tranquility and happiness meant sacrificing my own life, my dying breath will be their name.

bonus:

XIAO

*…he blushed and teleported away.*

[marsmaximoff]

🪩; club pentagon 𖦹₊⋆☾

content warning: ‘long haired’ fem!reader. suggestive. drugs, alcohol.

word count: 1.4k 💜

author’s note: y’all idk what’s happening to me. like i swear when i watched the show i didn’t care about him. in fact i didn’t even like him. and now i can’t stop thinking about his hot face and hands 😔 expect more fics to come cause i’m going crazy. btw, i apologize for the possible mistakes as english is my third language. enjoy <3!

divider by @strangergraphics <3

the colorful lights create a shiny veil over the club. the music reverberating throughout the place, accompanied by loud, excited screams and intoxicated voices, acts as a barrier to the real world.

while i wait for my friend to come back from the bathroom, a guy catches my eye, separated from the rest, in a corner. he must be around my age, a bit older. and i don’t know what it is exactly, but something immediately lures me in. something about his aura, his vibe.... maybe it’s the dark hair, or the tattoos on his arm, the way he’s talking to the man next to him like he’s important... 

he looks hot. and like a total dick too. 

“you like him?” your friend inquires cheekily, noticing your stare. “i haven’t seen him before.” you don’t forget someone like him. his tall frame and dark clothes adding to the arousing pull i’m feeling. “he’s the reason we’re here. i found the club through him; he promotes it.” “do you know him?” there’s a growing curiosity inside of me, to know more, “not at all”, to get closer. “he looks like a playboy,” she declares, to which i can only agree. “an attractive one, tho.”

on cue, as if he had heard us -impossible given the distance- he takes his eyes from that man and locks his gaze on mine, sending a flutter through my stomach. but i don’t shy away, seeing his eyes go down my body, checking me out, unashamedly. a hussy grin accompanies the action while i keep the intense eye contact going for some time before turning around and heading back to the dance floor. as i do, i feel his gaze slide over my body and smile to myself, satisfied, trying to sensualize my walk a bit.

the night continues as usual: drinks, dancing, some flirting here and there, all that still carrying a boost of confidence from that previous interaction. 

eventually, i take a break sitting by the counter, and almost in no time, a smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and something else surrounds me. 

“hey” he speaks with confidence and a certain ego; the grin is back where it had been before. he leans on the bar and studies me, daringly, carefully. that seems to fuel my boldness, because my hand moves almost instantly towards his face, slowly. he doesn’t back away or stop me; he doesn’t even flinch. i gather the remaining white powder from the warm skin right over his upper lip with a finger and lower it, showing it to him. “oops, my bad,” he says playfully while grabbing my wrist. then, he brings it to his mouth and licks it off my fingertip without one of us breaking eye contact for a single second. holy. fuck. afterwards, he laughs softly, my heart rate going crazy, “want some? i only have the best.” i shake my head, choosing to keep my drifting lucidity. 

my gaze travels down his body until reaching his tattooed arm. “you like ‘em?” “i dont see many people around who have them” “yeah…bunch of pussies. these didnt hurt at all, you know.” the smugness of his words an obvious sign of his eagerness to impress. “you got more?” “oohh, someone’s interested…” i scoff finding his teasing annoying, yet unable to deny the way i have to press my lips together to hold back a smile. “i love tattoos” “yeah? wanna touch?” his comments come off so nonchalantly, flirting a natural habit of his. “i mean, you've already gone for my mouth...” his voice lowers a bit, having the clearly much-expected effect on me, and i give in, my yearning taking my fingers to his arm. the smooth and steamy flesh welcomes me with a satisfying shiver, and the hitch of his breath makes me slow down, caressing softly, seductively. 

i don't know if he's trying to contain himself, or enjoying it too much, but i see him biting his lip, and it feels so good to find a tiny crack in his confident facade, the growing heat in my belly seconding it. the initial trace of ink becomes a search of his now more prominent veins, up and down. “i like how it looks.” i give him a final graze, but this time it’s my hand that strokes his arm all the way down his slender, ring-adorned fingers which i hold and toy with before letting go to replace them with my drink, leaving him all greedy for more. his skin on fire. 

he’s affected now, trying to break the spell, attempting to somehow regain control while his breathing’s all over the place. cute. 

the drink sugars my senses, but it’s not nearly as sweet as the feel of him. 

“you like the club?” he goes back to his usual self, his comfort zone, something he can proudly show off. “yeah, i like the ambience”  “i can show you around…this place’s my second home.” i know what he's doing, using an excuse to move this somewhere quieter, more private, more comfortable…. but i decide to play a bit with him. “i don’t know… i'm really enjoying this area.” he smirks, “and it only gets better, we don't leave the best within reach of just anyone”, getting closer. “so you’re saying you'll make it worth my time?” he pokes his cheek with his tongue, turning me on even more. fucking tease. “in fact you'll regret it if you don't come.”  “mmm…im not sure…maybe i need a preview….” his face is mere millimeters from mine, giving me a perfect view of the mischievous look that takes over his. then, he grabs a small bag from his pocket -more white powder- and pushes my hair away from my shoulder, the contact leaving goosebumps everywhere. when the bareness pleases him, an unfamiliar feeling covers my skin. and then i realize, he’s pouring it on me. jesus christ. he leaves a shivery trail up to my neck, molding it to get a perfect line. his hot breath is getting me dizzy, his hand enveloping the other side of my neck, his allure a dangerous mix with the alcohol. he snorts the line in one, the tip of his nose tickling my burning skin. “yesss, shit baby”, he groans huskily underneath my ear, adding a bit of pressure with his hand, and i feel my wetness starting to become uncomfortable. 

he’s laughing when he pulls back, “how’s that for a preview?”, finishing rubbing the remains of his nose. but i can only focus on his fingers, fuck. i need more. “not bad” i try so hard to think of something witty, flirty, to keep the back and forth going, but i can’t. my brain is foggy, my body is flaming, and my belly is killing me with all those damn backflips. “not bad? that’s not nice of you….imma have to do something about that attitude of yours…” i stand up from the stool, suddenly desperate to get out of there. “maybe i do need that tour, a change from the loud music and everything” god i’ve truly become pathetic. and it seems to amuse him, “yeah? i thought you liked the ambience here….” “and i thought you said you’d make it worth my time” i make him smirk again, what a damn sight, and before i know it he’s taking me who knows where.

the moment the door closes behind us, my back is pushed to the wall, his arms caging me. this time, his eyes stay on my lips while he bites his. “fuck, you’re so hot” i can’t hold it anymore. the praise gets to him and makes him snap, harshly pressing our mouths together. the kiss is rough, desperate, as if we were running out of time. i let out a muffled moan as he brings me closer to his warm body and slides one hand towards my neck, adding some pressure. i’ve never had such a messy, intense kiss before, it makes my legs weak. he keeps asserting dominance the whole time, and bites my lip before pulling back and heading towards my neck. 

my moans get louder as i feel him leaving hickeys all over my skin. “it’s namgyu”, he corrects me, hovering over my flesh. but the blood is already pounding in my ears. “huh?” 

 “i want you to know what to moan”

[loudclan-clangen]

So, here is the pitch:

AU where Siltsplash finds out they are pregnant around the same moon that Eklutna gives birth to the boys. (Rather than an AU where Owl doesn’t cheat because then we wouldn’t have Song, Dance, or Dash and that won’t do)

It makes the betrayal even worse because it’s even more pointless since they were going to give Owl an heir.

Anyway, meet Spindlekit

She will eventually go blind I imagine, but if Owlstar suggest she retire she tells him that he should retire for being old lmao.

Warrior name is open to suggestion

I love her and I’m so mad that she doesn’t exist now.

The fact that Song doesn’t have a little sister is a CRIME. This is what he was born to do.

Not only am I okay with it, I would love to see it!

You are so right, here's a flashback that was cut for time from Moon 28:

Erminepaw has had a crush on Songpaw since they were in the nursery together, he just never called attention to it. He honestly probably doesn't even register that it is a crush, he's doing that thing that kids do where they're like this is my best friend, of course I want to marry him that's how everyone feels about their best friend. Nothing out of the ordinary here! Just my best friend that I must be holding hands with at all times for best friend reasons!

Yes! This is Fox----, he has been causing problems since the literal day he was born. You've met both of his parents, but I would be a little bit surprised if you guessed them correctly. Parental drama is kinda part of his whole deal. He's one of the first 3rd generation cats born in Loudclan.

I have SO much advice, about the images, the recommended size is 1280 x 1920 pixels, that's always a little too short for my panels, so I try to aim for 1280 x 2000 - 3000. It still deteriorates them a little bit, but people can always click on them for better quality. Bigger text and variation in values also help for readability regardless of size. (value meaning how light or dark a color is. if you want something to stand out it's more important to change the value than it is to change the hue generally speaking.) As for grabbing attention, I would recommend making sure that the image you're trying to show is visible above the cut off for longer posts, posts with only text visible are a lot less likely to get interaction. That being said, the most important thing for the longevity of your blog is making sure that it's something you are doing for yourself. There's nothing wrong with liking when your posts get attention, but it's not likely to happen for a long while (I think moon 5 was the first time I got double digit likes which was three months after I started.) I appreciate all of the love that Loudclan gets now, but if I had started with that as the goal I never would have been able to reach the point of it happening. (I actually started posting Loudclan with the intention of proving to myself once and for all that posting art was not a viable endeavor for me, so... I'll consider that a successful failure!)

You CANNOT DO THIS to me anon- "the canadian city"- YOU MEAN JUNEAU? YOU MEAN THE CAPITAL OF ALASKA JUNEAU?!?! JUNEAU?!?! CANADIAN?!?! When I catch you anon- anon when I catch you-

Come here, anon. I just want to talk. I just want to have a word with you.

[hauntedwitch04]

Wrong time, right person

Azriel x reader

Words: about 3.3k words

Warnings: smut, smut, Iforgot to say smut, and Azzy himself ;)

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 3: Sex pollen

It's an easy mission they said.

Touch and go, they won't even know you passed by they said.

Assholes. Liars. Bastards. Especially liars though.

This is all I can think of as the Shadowsinger and I find ourselves running through the trees being chased by the guards of the lord we had gone to spy on. Someone must have warned of our arrival, because a few minutes after arriving on the spot, we were already surrounded by enemies. We fought to the end, but were forced to retreat into the woods, seeking safety in escaping through that labyrinth of logs, hoping that those stupid enforcers would not be able to follow us.

It seems like hours that we are running when we finally decide to stop, in the vicinity of a cave, so that we can find refuge from the darkness and our pursuers.

"We finally lost those assholes." My companion comments, sitting back against the cave wall, leaning his head against the rock and showing his neck, leaving it exposed to my gaze.

That simple gesture kindles a fire in me that burns brightly, and I feel compelled to look away. I close my head between my legs and feel Azriel's gaze on me as he approaches. I feel him rest a hand on my shoulder, and I can't help but moan at that simple contact. I feel my cheeks get hot, but he doesn't flinch and asks me worriedly, "Hey, are you okay?" I can't bring myself to look at his face so I nod slightly still with my head between my legs and mutter a nonsensical apology. He still tries for a moment to wrest the truth from my lips, but I don't even flinch for a second. Azriel, seeing then that I did not intend to explain anything, stands up.

"I'm going to gather some wood for the fire, or we'll freeze to death tonight." He says, as he approaches the exit of the cave. I glimpse from below my knees the color of the sky, which is now turning blue.

"Okay, I'll stay here." I tell him in a whisper loud enough for him to hear me. I guess he nods, before walking out of our shelter, leaving me to think about why I took that action earlier. Ever since we escaped from the building I feel a strange sensation permeating my body, but I hadn't given it too much thought before since my priority was to run away from the guards, but it's as if after all that effort that feeling has expanded to the nth degree. It almost feels as if my body no longer belongs to me: I feel a wet sensation between my panties, while the fabric of my T-shirt brushing against the skin of my breasts sends shivers down my spine as my nipples harden against my bra. I squeeze my thighs together trying to ease that sensation, but it all proves futile. I feel a wave of embarrassment rise through my body again, thinking that this is all due only to a small gesture from the Shadowsinger.

Eventually I decide to lie down and try to get some sleep hoping that with a good dose of rest the next day I would wake up feeling better than I am now. I lie down with some difficulty on the floor only to fall unconscious in the arms of Morpheus after a few seconds.

But all is in vain, because in the middle of the night I suddenly wake up all sweaty. I sit up while with one hand I hold my chest. I feel the fire from before writhing in my gut, and on instinct my other hand goes to my center automatically, but realizing my gesture I immediately freeze.

Azriel was sitting in front of the fire, and seeing me feeling so sick he immediately approaches me, touching my forehead to feel if I had a fever. Immediately he retracts his hand feeling how hot I am, and makes me lie of me.

"You try to lie to me one more time about feeling good, and I swear I will never make you go on a mission with me again, and I will make sure Rhysand doesn't either." Says Azriel, as he removes part of my suit, to let the cold night wind cool me down a little. I again find myself letting escape a moan of pleasure as I feel that cool night breeze brush against my warm skin. I feel my nipples becoming turgid as I somehow try to get away from the Shadowsinger's constant touch, which is only making the situation I am in worse.

"I would say now is not the time to lecture me Az." I reply as I try to catch my breath. The Illyrian looks conflicted, but finally stands up and looks me straight in the eye.

"I'll try to do something. You stay here, and in case you give a yell, I'll be back here in less than a second." Says Azriel before disappearing into the night.

I stay looking at the place where he disappeared for a few minutes, trying to distract myself from the feeling of pain and the impossibility of having what my body desires, but finally I give in and begin to slowly run the fingers of my right hand over my center. I immediately feel the pain lessen, but like a drug, this never seems to be enough and I need more and more. My other hand wanders down my body until it rests on my breast and I begin to stimulate one of my nipples. My right hand I run it under my pants and for the first time my fingers come in contact with the wet lips of my pussy.

I remain in that limbo situation for what feels like an eternity experiencing enough pleasure to not die of pain and at the same time not enough to be completely well.

After what seems like hours, I hear Azriel's heavy footsteps getting closer. Quickly I try to look presentable, but immediately the lack of that little antidote causes me more pain than I felt before. I feel twinges in my abdomen that make me bend over, but despite this I look up at the man in front of me, and I cannot help but curse Mother for creating such a perfect being: he has not slept in days, he is drenched in sweat and tired, and yet he continues to be the most attractive person I have ever seen.

He stops to catch his breath, and only then do I realize that he no longer has the cape he was wearing before, in fact now his muscular arms are clearly evident, thanks in part to the tank top he was wearing.

"Where did your cloak go?" I ask, trying to distract myself in a very unsatisfactory way.

"I had to give it to Suriel, to get him to help me understand what you have." He says casually as he approaches me. At that gesture I try to pull away, but he doesn't let me, resting his hands on my shoulders. He then places his lips on my forehead to test whether I still have a fever. That gesture again unleashes a fire capable of burning whole woods in my stomach, and I groan, almost in pain, pushing him away from me.

"Did I hurt you?" Azriel asks worriedly, and I wave him off, so as not to worry him, but he doesn't seem convinced.

"What did Suriel tell you?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Well, as we were running away you spilled a jar of powders on yourself as we were going through that sorceress's store, remember?" Azriel says, looking at the ground, as if ashamed. I nod, remembering very well that damned jar, which made me sneeze for several minutes.

"You didn't read the label on that jar, did you?" He continues vaguely, so much so that nervous and without patience, I force him to look at me before answering him.

"Of course I didn't have time to look at it Az, go straight to the point." I say impatiently. His cheeks turn red, and he stammers something under his breath that I can't understand at first, so I ask him to repeat it. He raises his eyes and fixes his in mine, before repeating what he had tried to say before.

"It was sex pollen, the one that spilled on you." He says finally, and I feel the blood freeze in my veins, still in shock from the revelation he threw at me. "And according to Suriel, the only way to keep you from dying right now is to...well you know, go along with what your instincts are asking you to do."

"Thank you for explaining in such a nice way that I have to masturbate Az, really very nice." I say almost angry at him, even though I know I'm not really. I'm partly angry at myself for putting myself in that situation, but I can't do anything about it now, and now I'm also in danger of dying.

"Hey, I'm trying my best." He replies, scratching the back of his neck with his right hand, looking embarrassed.

"I know, I know Az, it's just-" I pause for a moment, trying to find a way to say it. I take a big breath and keep talking. "I've already tried touching myself, alone, down there, but it didn't do much good." I confess in a low voice, hoping he won't hear it, but unfortunately Shadowsinger's hearing is too acute to miss my confession. He freezes for a moment as if he is about to reason out what to do, then speaks again.

"I know." Azriel says in a guilty tone.

"What do you mean you know?" I ask shocked as I look at him, not understanding what he was referring to.

"Well the Suriel may or may not have told me that you would not be healed this way. "He continues as he watches the fire casting beams of light on the walls of the cave we are in. I stop again, and begin to reflect on all that I knew about these powders as I feel the pain getting worse and worse. By now I can feel my panties completely wet, as every single contact with what's around me unleashes a series of shivers that reaches to my core.

"I thought that was enough...well you get it. In all the books dealing with pollen with potential danger they say that's enough, be satisfied." I try to explain, as I draw a groan caused by my shifting which resulted in clenching my thighs together.

"I thought so too, but he said this doesn't count if-" He freezes as if he cannot find the words. I, growing more and more impatient, ask him aloud to continue.

"Az just doesn't seem like the time to be shy." I urge him to speak.

"He said it's not enough when you're in close proximity to your mate." He blurts out, standing up sharply. I squint my eyes not believing what my ears have just heard, but I immediately understand that feeling that has long been building in my heart toward my mate. Well I would say more than friend. I feel something forming in my chest that takes shape through a golden thread extending from my sternum to that of Azriel, who is currently turned his back to me as he looks out of the cave as if in the same there is the answer to this problem. Immediately I feel that silly happiness I felt at having found my mate, and that he was the man I actually loved all my life already disintegrating under the idea that he didn't want all that.

"You don't have to." I whisper, in the grip of ever-worsening cramps, but right now they seem like nothing more than mild pain compared to what my heart was feeling.

"You don't understand, if we don't do this, you will die and I won't let you die." He counters by turning around and dropping to his knees at my height looking me straight in the eye.

"I don't want your pity." I reply harshly as I try to get out of his sight, unable to do much given my condition, because I don't want him to see my suffering and the pain his rejection has triggered in me.

"No, I don't want my mate, the woman I've loved all my life to die and I'm pissed off at Mother because I didn't want it to happen like this between us the first time. I wanted to do everything right, take you to dinner, confess under the stars and then make love to you in my bed between the sheets I had specially chosen your favorite color, not on the floor in a stupid cave after risking our lives! When I knew you were my mate I wanted nothing more than to thank Mother, fate or whoever, but now I hate them because they had to pass the anger they vent on me to you, and I don't want to see you suffer because of me." He blurts out as he begins to walk around the cave again, then finishes his speech by looking at me. A strange light sparkles in his eyes, they look like the eyes of someone who loves to the point of being sick, to the point of suffering, and that love right now is directed at me. I can't believe his words, but that connection makes me feel that everything he just said is the truth, and immediately the happiness I lost a few moments ago returns, along with hope.

"We can still do it." I confess in a whisper and he immediately turns to me, his eyebrows furrowed over his beautiful eyes. "We can do it once we get home. We'll tell Rhys they can go screw him and his missions, and we'll take some time to figure this out and get used to it, and we can do everything you just said, because believe me I want to do all that with you."

"But?" He asks as he approaches.

"But now all I need is you fucking me as hard as you can in this shitty place so that I can stop dying and talk to you without having to moan every time." I say, as I grab his shirt with one hand, since he was now close enough to me, and kiss him with all the passion in my body.

I feel like I can finally breathe again as my lips on his, and I can already feel the pollen fade as the urge to feel Azriel inside me increases without measure.

"As my lady wishes." Whispers the Illiryan on my lips as we pull away from that breathless kiss. I immediately feel his lips graze my neck, to start biting and sucking on it as if his life depended on it. Every single movement of his lips and tongue made me touch the sky with one finger as I moaned his name as if I were a priestess intent on making a prayer and he the deity I believe in.

His lips then move from my neck to my breasts, where he begins to suck on my nipples like a hungry child. I bring my hands into his hair and pull them every time his tongue touches one of my sensitive spots.

"Baby doll, if you pull my hair one more time, I don't think I'll be able to keep myself from fucking you so hard I'll leave your silhouette on the floor of this place." He says pulling away for a moment to kiss my lips again.

My hands move down, and I begin to open his pants, while he begins to open mine.

"All words, I want to see some action." I reply, trying not to give away how much his words had affected me. He smirks, realizing that he actually made a mark with what he said, just brushing against my panties and feeling how wet they are.

"You will regret saying what you just said baby doll." Az replies, as with a quick gesture he enters of me. I didn't even notice that he had moved both my and his panties, but right now I don't care.

Feeling his cock inside me is an otherworldly experience. I can feel the walls of my pussy tighten around his sizable member as he tries to stay as still as possible to get me used to his size.

"Tell me if it hurts, or if you feel like you can't take it anymore, okay?" He asks softly, as he kisses my sweaty forehead. I feel the cramps from the sex pollen return, and I groan before I answer him.

"Az, I can't take it anymore, either you move or I swear I'm going to flip you over and start doing what I need to do on my own." I say, trying to move my hips slightly and create some friction, but he stops me, resting his hips on mine and giving that silly little smile that makes him so sexy.

"Oh, I can't wait to see you ride my cock, but I'd say leave that experience for another time. Tonight is just for you, and for your pleasure." He comments and then begins to move.

Immediately I feel every single part of the universe fall into place as he gradually increases his speed. My body seems to be persecuted everywhere with shivers of pleasure as his lips rest lightly on my breasts again. Between his mouth, his cock, and the sex pollen in my body my orgasm seems to come with a speed I never expected.

"Please Az, don't stop." I say groaning, feeling the pleasure grow more and more every second.

"Oh baby I could never deprive myself of the feeling of my cock against your cervix. You're going to come, aren't you?" She whispers back as I try to nod. "Then we'll come together love."

"Yes, please Az fill me." I continue, and I feel her muscles tense even more under my touch.

"Honey don't challenge me, you know I could fuck you so hard you wouldn't walk tomorrow even if you prayed to Mother." He counters by increasing his speed.

"It would certainly be worth it." I answer as I now feel I am on the edge of oblivion, just one thrust would be enough to sink into pleasure. I hold my breath for a moment as I feel him move for the last time before my body begins to move in convulsions of pleasure, and my vision becomes totally blurred.

I feel him releasing all his semen inside me shortly after coming, and I feel him lying on top of me, relaxing.

We stay like that for a few minutes before he starts laughing. I look at him not understanding why he is laughing until he explains himself.

"God, I guess in the end I will have Rhys to thank for this mission." Whispers Az.

"Actually it wasn't that bad." I comment, laughing in turn.

"Let's say it had its upsides." He replies with a wink. "But don't think it's over here, wait until you get home, and when I'm done with you the only thing you'll remember is my name."

Yes I would say we definitely have Rhys to thank.

TAGLIST

@horneybeach1 @peachyxrosie @whoreforblackhill @forsiriussake @ash04w3 @l3viathanpup @ohemgeewhat @123345566 @kidsaproblem @lust4lucille @lisamanban123 @alina02 @shodowbane09 @supernatural-lvr

[afyrian]

☆ the knight's heart

kuroo tetsuro x fem!reader (fluff) m.list | wc: 734 | prompts: forbidden romance + royalty au

    "i need you to do something for me," you stand beside your dedicated knight, one assigned to you as soon as you could go out on your own.

  your voice comes out as a whisper, hands clamoring against his thick metal armor. his head turns to look at you, eyes showing through the slit in his helmet. you've always loved when you could see his eyes. the amber color that shines so brightly inside despite how dark it must be in there, the only time he's allowed to take it off being inside the castle.

  "pretend i'm your lover, for a moment," you look back down the alleys of shops and people in the town square, cloak disguising how distinguished your dress is, "some of the other knights are looking for me and i'd rather not face my father right now."

  sir kuroo's head leaches back, covered hands reaching out to hold under your elbows. his armor rattles as his head shakes beneath his plated helmet. "your royal highness, i find that proposal to be highly inappropriate. if we're found, i could be punished, you- well your father would be incredibly upset that you're courting a commoner," kuroo purses his lips, trying to please you as best as possible.

  "sir kuroo, i beg of you. he's hounding me to meet another royal and i cannot take it. please, it'll be but a moment," you clasp your hands together, looking back to see more knights searching around the town center.

  kuroo looks at them too, trying to decide if a moment of pleasure for you could also mean a world of hurt for the both of them. biting his lip, he pulls off his helmet, holding it off to the side. his hair is matted down some, his usual spiky hair pushed down with sweat and his helmet. "don't let me regret this, darling," he whispers, nearly taken aback as your hands reach for his cheeks.

  "what? how else would one court someone? did you believe we would be simply talking to distract them?"

  "my apologies, your royal highness. i simply didn't believe we'd be doing such a thing with your royal status," your knight looks away, face visibly getting redder, something you always saw when seeing other royalty attempt to court you. 

  you smile, looking away to hide the happiness that overtakes you. when your head turns, you see the knights just a few stalls from you, looking down every alleyway. turning back to kuroo, you apologize quickly, bringing your hands back up to his face and pulling him towards you. his lips press against yours, the crackly feel of his dry lips battles the softness of your skin. 

  he tastes like a stew that the cooks make for all of the knights, something you've indulged in one or two times with kuroo. his breath his hot, lips breaking from yours only to push back in with a heavier intensity. his hands reach for your waist. the metal of his gloves keeping the two of you from truly becoming one in this moment. however, it doesn't stop you from running your fingers through his hair. 

  it feels prickly in spots, the sweat having brought them to a point. you stand there for a moment, indulging in something that you'll never truly be able to have. especially when he has such a warmth to him that none of your suitors have ever had. they never have those amber eyes that bring you in every morning and every evening. 

  eventually, after what felt like forever, you finally pull your lips from his. however, you can't help but run your thumb over his lips, staring into his eyes that look to you with an intensity no one could battle. “uh- thank you, sir kuroo,” you step back, looking around before bowing your head out of respect. 

  kuroo smiles, “i believe i should be the one bowing to you, your royal highness. after all, courting you has been a joy.” 

  “couldn’t have said it better myself, sir kuroo. now, let’s go sneak off and see if we can find lunch to buy. unless you think the cooks are done with the knight’s lunch…” you grab his helmet for you, holding it up to him.

  “they likely are, your royal-”

  “please, call me y/n, kuroo. i believe you’re entitled to such a privilege after putting up with me.”

a/n: sorry for the terrible representation of royalty in medieval times gen. taglist (open): @maybespiderman @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@nekozaki @nnnyxie @kameyyy

[winterarmyy]

Behind The Facades | Part II

An unrequited pining over a certain super solider.

Navigation: Part I || Part II || Part III (end)

Words: 3.3k++

Pairings: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: angst. pent up anger. unspoken jealousy. conflicted feelings.

P/S: i heard you. i got you. since lots of you enjoyed the supposedly oneshot, so i decided to do a continuation for this couple. Hope you enjoy~

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Weeks gone by, months flown through and the team was already accustomed Bucky's girlfriend wandering around the tower. Though they thought she would move-in eventually, knowing that Tony allowed them to do so, but she hadn't done it yet.

While Y/N, on the other hand, felt like she was constantly walking on thin ice. Being tug in between holding herself together and breaking down.

What's worst about this was, deep down, Y/N wanted to hate her.

Gail Richards.

Bucky's girl.

A gorgeous red-head, sultry champagne-colored eyes, a deep dimple on her right cheek, sculptured body of goddess and heart of gold.

Y/N got to admit that she hated how perfect Gail was for Bucky. She had such a kind soul; it's impossible not to fall for her. In hindsight, she was exactly what Bucky needed in his life.

What he deserve.

And in the end, Gail managed to steal not just Bucky's heart, but also the entire team's.

Including Y/N herself.

The friendship between Gail and Y/N was true and genuine; even if it hurts her everytime when she was forced to see Gail canoodling with the man she had fallen madly in love with.

"So where's the date? Did he tell you or is it a surprise kind of thing?" Gail's questions snapped Y/N from her deep internal thoughts.

Her gaze fell into her own reflection in the mirror; she was fitted with a simple black satin dress, with a quite scandalous slit on one side on her thigh. Standing behind her, was Gail, helping her out with the pearl necklace she was graciously lending it to Y/N.

"I don't remember the name but it's that new michelin star restaurant." Y/N replied as she straighten her dress, suddenly feeling conscious of how tight the dress was hugging her body.

"Oh! I know that fancy new restaurant. It opened last week, right? Bucky and I haven't had the chance to go yet. I heard it's pretty hard to get reservation. I must say, I'm impressed."

While Gail seemed to approve of Y/N's date, she didn't notice the way Y/N's body froze as she mentioned Bucky's name.

Her fingers were itching to dug it's nails somewhere, anywhere; as she try to keep her composure as neutral as possible, "Yeah, I'll definitely give you my review before you guys go on a date there. Who knows if its not up to the standards, right?"

Oh, how desperate she was on wanting to hide her pain away.

"That's great, y/n! But, I'd rather you actually enjoy the date rather than secretly being an undercover food critique. Forget about everything and have fun for once! Who knows this one is a keeper, huh?" Gail rubbed her hands to side of Y/N's arms; her eyes brighten as she encouraged her.

Ignorance is truly a bliss; though it's not that she knows that Y/N had been in love with Bucky this whole time.

On the other hand, Bucky was starting to feel the effects of what Gail had warned him before. He doesn't want to feel like she doesn't love him because she does.

At least she tries to.

Persuing Gail was not necessarily easy; not because he was lacking or she played hard to get. But because of how honest she was; how self aware she was.

"Being with me is a hell of a challenge, Bucky. My emotions are unpredictable. Today, I will love you ever so truly; I will drown you with all the kisses and cuddles you could ever imagine but the next day you might not being able to talk to me or even see me."

"I'll go M.I.A and isolate myself from the world at any time, with no warning. I shut down without any reason."

"I might not be there for you when you needed me the most. I might abandon you when all you wanted for me to stay."

"Worst part about it is I won't feel sorry for what I did because I can barely feel anything during those time."

But he insisted to try.

Maybe it was the sudden surge of passion when he met her but he was determined that they could make it work.

So, try they did.

As his relationship with Gail progresses, his and y/n's started to astray. He noticed y/n has been keeping her distance with him since he got together with Gail.

She had been cooped up in her room more often. There was a gradual changes in their schedule. Lesser trips to the corndog stall that y/n was obsessed with, canceled trips on visiting Alpine, the cute little kitten they have been eyeing at the adoption center, and almost none of the late night coffee trips.

He missed her.

From her annoying laugh to her odd habit of scratching things in her sleep.

Her smile, her voice, her presence.

He missed all of it.

He missed her.

Which was why Bucky thought it was better to talk it out with her. Maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding that needed to be clear out.

It took just single knock before Bucky intrude himself into Y/N's room, "Hey, y/n I don't want to disturb you but can we..." Bucky's sentence did not managed to end with a period, thus his words was instead left hanging just like his mouth.

"Oh, wow."

For a moment there, Bucky literally forgot how to breath. It was as if the reality around him was deteriorating, leaving just the perfect view of Y/N. For a split second, his gaze seemed to dilated into a trance, slowly getting bewitched by the beauty before him.

Bucky was so captivated by how, almost sinfully, beautiful Y/N looked in that dress, he didn't notice his own girlfriend was standing right next to her.

Gail carefully slide her way towards Bucky as she prompted, "So... what do you think, Buck? Gorgeous isn't she?" A dreamy sigh escaped from Gail's lips as she admire the woman in front of her.

"Yes. Yes, she is."

Those were the words Bucky wanted to say but his mouth wasn't listening to his heart, rather it followed his head, "I didn't know you were coming over, honey." Bucky arms reached towards Gail as he scooped her close to him, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

It was subtle but if they paid enough attention, they could see how Y/N's gaze quickly shifted downwards to her feet. Her teeth sunk between the insides of her left cheek as an effort to distract herself from the thunderstorm within her chest. A little bit more force on her teeth would've tore her up and left her bleeding from the inside.

How much longer she must be in this torment? How much suffering her heart needs to endure until it adapt to the pain? She's tired of the ache in her chest but at the same time she can't help it when her heart yearn for a love that's never going to be hers.

"Well? Is she not goddamn beautiful?" Gail playfully slapped Bucky's arm, demanding her question to be answered.

"I mean..." Bucky stuttered to find words. Especially when those round doe eyes of Y/N's spark with anticipation.

All those milliseconds of time Bucky had to think of an appropriate, truthful answer but somehow he only come up with, "...i guess, you could do better."

Idiot.

Straight up dumb.

Bucky immediately regret his words when the gleam in Y/N's eyes suddenly faded; turning into something cold and stoic.

Gail huffed in denial, before taking Y/N's side, "Then you sir, need to check your eyes because she's absolutely stunning". Y/N gave a small smile as Gail pulled her for a side hug.

"Why are you dressed up anyway?" Bucky wanted change the topic before he said something stupid again.

There was a noticeable pause on Y/N's side as he asked, as if she was unwilling to tell him. However, the reluctantcy only arouses his curiosity.

Y/N turned around and faced the mirror. As she fixed the necklace near her collarbone, she made an eye contact with Bucky through his reflection and answered, "I have a date."

Something shifted in the air; as if it was getting heavier, sturdier.

"Who's the guy?" Bucky was clearly not amused with the idea. It barely filtered through his stern tone.

"Daniel. One of the SHIELD agent I worked with before." Y/N noticed how his expression morphed into a frown.

"Why is he making that face? "

Bucky seethed, "That douchebag? Really y/n?" There's a hint of disappointment in his voice; like how a father would scold his daughter of doing something stupid.

And that ticked her off.

She's a grown-ass woman; she can do whatever she wants, date whoever she wants. None of it was Bucky's concern.

"What do you mean?" Annoyance flowed through her tone.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he recognized that name.

Daniel.

That scumbag whose always staring at her. And not in a cute, crush-like way. There's nothing innocent about the way he stare at Y/N's ass and boobs, or always finding excuses to touch her.

However, Y/N has been oblivious to it since Bucky had always been with her.

Since when did that douche got close to Y/N? How did he managed to get Y/N agree to go to a fucking date with him? More importantly, how did Bucky not know all of this?

There was this uncontrollable, unexplainable rage within Bucky that he was unable to contain; like a venomous poison it seeped through his head, "Are you that needy to even consider going out with such scum? Come on, y/n. You're being naive, it's ridiculous." Bucky scoffed as his tone laced with scorn and mockery.

Gail gasped in complete shock, "What is wrong with you, Bucky? That's not--"

"That's not fair. How can you have the luxury to fall in love and lived happily ever after while I have to continue to break and break, again and again?"

"Ridiculous? Am I a fucking joke to you, Bucky?!" Y/N could hold back her own anger as she turned towards him. His face remained the way that it is; red and furious and he was not willing to put his ego down either.

"You know what?" Y/N swerved towards the bed, "I am going to go this date with Daniel, whether you like or not..." She took her purse on the edge of the mattress, "...and I am going to enjoy every second of it!"

"Thanks, Gail. I really appreciate your help today." Y/N smiled as she briefly took Gail's hands into hers. Blinking in confusion, Gail replied, "Y-yeah.. sure--" though her speech was cut short when Y/N interrupted.

"And you!" Y/N shot a glare towards Bucky before marching towards him, "You can go fuck yourself." She clashed her shoulders into Bucky's before walking out her own room.

Bucky gritted his teeth; his jaw clenched in pure vexation as his frown grew deeper.

Looking at her very angry looking boyfriend, Gail let out a tired sigh, "Why would you say such thing to her, Bucky?

Why did he say those things?

He could explain it much better way, knowing that he had plausible reason to why he thinks she should not go to this date.

But, why did he not do that?

Why did he lash out and spat those hurtful things to her?

Even Bucky himself was not sure why.

After that Bucky spent the rest of the night at the gym, and this was the third punching bag that he had completely destroyed. He could see his girlfriend coming in from the corner of his eyes, with an emergency kit in her hand.

She sat at a nearby bench before, "Bucky sweetheart, come here." Gail softly asked him sit with her.

Despite the grunts and gruffs that slipped from his lips, he still obeyed her; though partially was because she had been sternly staring at him.

Gail gently remove his boxing glove of his right hand, then lo and behold his knuckles was crushed and bloodied.

"The wrappings is there for a reason, you know?" She knew he would this; especially when he is guided by rage. Bucky remained silent, knowing that if he did not control his anger first; then he would probably do the same thing he did to Y/N again.

There was a comfortable silence as Gail was tending his wounds. Bucky looked down at her, focusing on cleaning the wounds. She was always careful and tender while handling Bucky; as if she was taking care of a child.

"You love her, don't you?" Gail calmly asked as she started to wrap Bucky's hand.

The question caught him by surprise, "What do you mean?"

She chuckled softly, "y/n. You love her. Am I right?" she reclarify.

It didn't need a genius to figure out how Bucky truly feels about Y/N. Even if he himself if not aware of his own feelings.

But she can see right through him.

She noticed how attentive was Bucky towards y/n. How he looked at her; like she's his whole world. How every single thing he does somehow relates back to Y/N; and he cannot go by a day without mentioning her name in their any conversation. How peaceful looked when y/n is anywhere near him.

She noticed every single one of those detail.

"Of couse, I do. It's y/n we're talking about here." Bucky replied as-matter-of-factly. Though there was some truth in his answer but it was not all.

Gail shook her head lightly as she holds Bucky's wounded hand in hers, "No, Bucky. You love her." Her brows crunched into a pleading curve as her gaze turned gentle.

Bucky frowned in confusion; he looked down at his hand where her thumb caressing his knuckles and he thought back all the moments he spent with y/n.

From the very first day he met her, on those nights she stayed with him, through thick and thin, her eyes on his, her smile on his cheek, her laugh in his arms, her voice in his ears, her skin on left arm, everything flashed through him so fast until a single moment when he realizes.

"I love her."

Gail recognized the glint his eyes, "And she loves you too, Buck." She coaxed.

The frown on his face turned into a shock as she spoke. Even if Y/N does love him, what does that mean?

"What are you saying?"

"Go." Her voice were somehow calmer than she was supposed to speak in such a dire situation.

Bucky knew what she meant; he knew what those eyes were telling him, "Gail, you--"

She cut him before he could say anything, "We did agree to see where will this take us..." her smiled was somehow bitter-sweet, "And I guess this is our end of the line."

A hit of pain struck Bucky's heart, "You don't have to do this." His left hand raised to tenderly cupped her cheeks; it was warm. Unlike his winter cold hand, she was warm. Like the soft heat from the morning sun.

She placed her hand on top of his as she craved a reassuring smile, "I want to."

And that broke Bucky's heart. And it broke for her.

He loved Gail.

All the feelings he felt for her was real. As real as the feelings he felt for Y/N. The only difference was he didn't realized he was in love with Y/N, but he did with Gail.

"And to be honest, I'm not sure I can keep up with the emotional commitments, I'm always M.I.A and lost in my own head..."

As Gail starts to ramble, Bucky wasn't hearing any of it. His eyes stings and his vision blurred.

There was only so much any man can handle.

There was joy in realizing his was in love with Y/N but there was also agony in knowing he had to break Gail's heart. Unable to hold back his emotions anymore, his tears finally broke out.

She was prepared not to cry today but seeing Bucky like this; who wouldn't tear up, right?

"Hey hey hey, I'll be okay. We'll be okay." She placed her palm on Bucky's cheeks, wiping away the tears with her thumb as she lead his gaze to her own.

"Bucky, listen to me. I don't want you feeling like you're alone." she cooed, her eyes had gotten glassy as tears filled within them. "You deserve so much more than what I can offer you, do you understand?" Bucky can simply nod as he feels like his voice will betray him.

"Good." Gail closed her eyes and leaned into a kiss. A soft innocent kiss on his forehead, as their tears fall on each other's bare skin, "Now, go get your girl."

<< Part I || Part III >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Feel free to leave some feedback behind! And what do you think of Gail? I thought it'd be nice to have a different characteristics for her instead of the cliche 'bitchy and rude' girlfriend.

There's no actual taglist. So, I only include those who reblogged with comments and/or commented on the previous part. However, do tell if you want or do not want to be tagged.

Taglist: @ghostofwinter @angstysebfan @erinallene @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @paarthurnax59 @nomajdetective @kentokaze @dexter99 @nana1000night @prettyinpink350

[aboutcustardcreams]

Help me Hold onto you

I got carried away and I wrote a pretty long chapter. I hope it's smooth enough because for the life of me I couldn't bring myself to reread it. Maybe I will another time and fix some eventual mistakes 👻 Hope you enjoy it! To sum it up: hurt/comfort & fluff. The Doctor (the real Doctor) finds you and she is determined to save you.

word count: 4200 ish words

part three

part four

The Doctor walked carefully through the corridors of the TARDIS, fingertips brushing against its walls, actually surprised by how realistic it looked like. She knew it was only a projection of your mind, not the reality of it, but it was interesting to see her home, yours too, through your eyes. At the same time there was this nagging feeling gripping at her stomach at the thought that this place, you loved so much, was part of the nightmare you were trapped in. She needed to find you and quickly.  

When she arrived at the panel room, she almost didn’t recognize it. The once bright orangish lights were darker there, almost crimson red. It didn’t feel like home one bit, it was distorted into something that made the Doctor feel unsafe, weird in the stomach. It was cold, humid, so much it stuck to her skin, biting through her bones. The Doctor hated humidity, because her hair curled up around her face. 

Her eyes shifted towards the TARDIS’ door and a frown found its way on her forehead. She recognized the grayish mist coming from underneath, the same one that was hovering the planet. Instinct told her you were on the other side of that door. And she had to get to you before the mist did, because if it did– no, the Doctor couldn’t even finish that thought. It wasn’t an option. It could never be an option. So she ran to the door, her palms lifted in mid air, almost afraid to touch the surface, “please, be okay, be okay,” she whispered, almost in a plea. 

Before she could touch the door and push it open, a voice came to her ears. 

“Doctor, I was looking forward to meeting you.” 

The Time Lady’s features hardened. She clenched her eyes shut for a second before spinning around, ready to face the enemy of the day. There he was, standing at the panel control, a creature she only read about in books, and never met before. She honestly would have preferred it that way. The Veilstryx was tall, taller than she thought he would be, slender, with edgy features. His skin was purple colored, a dark shade of it, almost black in fact. The first thing she noticed, though, were those large, majestic wings, folded behind his back, of the same color. 

“Can’t say the same thing about you, Veilstryx,” she retorted, with a tight smile, “Is that, correct? Hope I pronounced it right,” she continued, a hint of sarcasm in her tone, hands tucked in her sweeping coat, “Actually no, I hope I misspelled it,” she added, scrunching up her nose. 

He nodded amusedly. “Funny. You’re funny.” He tilted his head to the side and his four pitch black eyes blinked one by one, almost making him look like some sort of reptile. The Doctor made a disgusted face at that. “I must admit, I was expecting to see a man.” 

The Doctor shrugged, giving him a cheeky little smile. She swayed a bit, shifting her weight from one foot to another, “Ah you know– I had an upgrade,” she responded hastily, having other things in mind to care about. You. “I normally enjoy small talk, but I’m quite in a hurry. Always in a hurry lately, me,” she stirred her lips in a thin line, and lolled her head right and left impatiently.  “You see, you’ve got my friend and I’d like to have her back.”

The Veilstryx hummed, tapping his pointed claws over the dashboard, “your friend, your friend…”, he repeated, pretending to have no idea what the Doctor was talking about. “Ah, you mean that delicious girl you willingly brought here for me,” his forked tongue peeked out of his mouth, sweeping over his purple lips, “such a nice gift, I must admit.” 

The Doctor’s jaw tightened, she felt her stomach drop only to jump back up in her throat. “She doesn’t belong to you,” she spoke quietly, however it was evident the concern and the urgency in her tone. “Let her go.” 

For a moment he gave her his back and unfolded his wings as if he was in need of a stretch. “I’m afraid, I can’t do that.” The Doctor blinked slowly, her mind racing with theories and plans to stop him. He was in your head, and the only way to expel him was through you. You were the key. She took a more meticulous look at his wings, only to realize they were made of some weird substance, transparent like an hologram, but not exactly an hologram themselves. She could see through, almost as if they were made of air. But you can’t see air, now can you? So it was something similar, thicker, visible to the eye like… mist. The souls he collected ended up there. 

“You see, I got a taste of her grief. She suffers so deliciously, I must keep her with me. I haven’t had one so exquisite in a while.”

She closed her hands into fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her frown deepened and her eyes glimmered with fear for you. “If you want to taste grief, I’ve plenty of it,” she took a step towards him, her voice almost desperate at this point, but there was firm determination in her hazel eyes. The Veilstryx tilted his head to the side, and stared at the Doctor, giving her the illusion he was actually considering her proposal. “I’ve lived longer, I’ve seen more than you can possibly imagine. Take me instead and let her go.” 

“Oh but Doctor, you’ll be next,” the grin that tugged at his lips was unsettling, stretching a bit too wide, giving it a predatory air. “I can sense how much this mortal means to you. You meant a lot to her too,” he added, letting out a quiet dark chuckle. His mind traced back to all the things he told you, while using the Doctor’s appearance.

The Time Lady froze when the Veilstryx used the past tense to mention what you felt about her. 

“Where is she?” She hissed, ignoring the sudden dizziness of her head. She could sense you and your thoughts, pushing through, mingling with hers, but she tried to keep them under control. “Tell me now.” 

He pointed at the door with an amused glimmer in his eyes. The Doctor had been right all along to think you were there. “Go ahead, see it for yourself. I’ve heard you’re not fond of goodbyes, but I reckon this time you should make an exception for her.”

The Doctor’s frown deepened, the more he spoke, the more she felt confused. She shook her head, “I’ll not say goodbye. Ever.” Her eyes darkened, “If you hurt her, I–”, her stuttering was interrupted by his sudden breathless laugh. 

“Doctor, I didn’t do anything. You did.” 

Her mouth parted slightly agape, “No. I didn’t– ”

She didn’t even get to finish, the Veilstryx slithered closer, so close to being now only a couple of inches from her. His wings spread wide and closed up around his form, like a cocoon. The Doctor held her breath and didn’t move. When he unfolded his wings again, they started to fade, and his body too wasn’t there anymore. He shapeshifted into someone, the Doctor immediately recognized. Her mouth parted and her breath hitched. She was staring at herself now, her face, her blond bob, even her outfit was particularly true to the original. The sly grin, though, was something she didn’t possess. 

“Tell me you’re impressed,” he cackled, with her voice. 

The Doctor’s eyes flashed, “you pretended to be me…” she muttered under her breath. 

“I did!” He squealed, in a way that made her feel sick to her stomach. “And she fell for it. Oh– it was so easy to break her,” he mused, sweeping his tongue over his new lips, “you’re in her mind, why don’t you see it for yourself?”

The Doctor inhaled sharply, her eyes were welling up with tears. Her original idea was to respect your boundaries, find you and bring you back without snooping around your mind. But now, she needed to know, a part of her needed to see what the Veilstryx did to you using her face. 

She closed her eyes and focused on your mind. It appeared like a room full of doors, one cracked open, others firmly kept shut, probably belonging to the past. She focused on the most recent memory, the door that was left still ajar and she hesitantly gave a peek, pushing it open enough for her to sneak through. 

She felt everything. All your emotions, all your fears and confusion basking in your head, and breaking your heart at the things the Veilstryx was telling you. She had to bring a hand to her mouth to suppress a pained sob. You were shaking, your face had never appeared paler before. The Doctor was a stranger to your tears, she had seen you cry before, but never remotely like that. 

Next, she saw herself grinning mischievously at you, towered over you, like you had been nothing but a ragged doll to push down and down. It was wrong, so wrong. She wanted to throw up. When you begged her to stop, she didn’t listen and instead her fingers curled around your neck. 

She wanted to intervene, but there was nothing she could do to change a memory that already happened. She could only be a spectator of your pain and it killed her. 

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, she kept repeating to herself like a mantra. She pulled away, finding her way back to the crimson red panel room, out of breath. 

She stared at her own image with a hate she never thought she could possess, “What have you done?” Despite her sharp tone, tears were streaming down her cheeks with no control. She didn’t even bother to wipe them. 

The Veilstryx shrugged, “I s’pose you should be asking that yourself, Doctor.” 

“You’ll not have her, you hear me? You think you’re so clever, but you know nothing about what I’m capable of. What she is capable of.” 

He snorted. “Don’t get your hopes up, Doctor. Loving someone so fiercely is the dumbest thing you could do.”

“It’s not,” she was quick to argue. “But what would you know about love?”, she let out a bitter chuckle.

He does his best to keep his face unbothered by her teasing, but the Doctor knows her face too well, to recognize the faint tremor of her eyebrows, proof of her faltering confidence. “Now I’m going to save my friend, and you better not come my way or you’ll be sorry–” 

The Veilstryx dismissed her with a flick of her hand, “take a shot, then. It’s only going to taste sweeter for me,” he grinned, but the Doctor didn’t bother to look at him. She spun around and moved towards the TARDIS’ door, throwing it open with no hesitation nor fear whatsoever. 

*

The Doctor’s hearts clenched painfully in her chest at the sight of you crouched down across the room of your apartment, shaking like a dry leaf, with your head buried in your hands. She had seen you in pain before, however, never like this. Perhaps it was because she was in your head, and could feel everything you were feeling: despair, fear, confusion and sadness. It was almost unbearable to stand and watch. With what the Veilstryx showed you, the Doctor was terrified of how you might react to seeing her again. But she pushed through, she would always do that for you. 

Her knees gave in then and she found herself crouched down across you. “Hi, stardust–” when she placed a hand upon your shoulder, your cries subsided softly. The Doctor’s lips quivered in a watery smile, desperately waiting to meet your eyes, “It’s alright,” she added gently, “I know you’re scared, but I’m here now– I’m with you…”

Slowly lifting your head, you’re beyond confused to see her in your apartment. You blinked slowly, as if in trance. How could you not be? After all the things she told you. “Doctor?” your voice sounded barely above a whisper, “what are you doing in my house?” Your orbs would normally sparkle with joy at the sight of the Doctor, but not this time. This time your eyes were glassy and dull, your dark thick lashes were wet with tears, that seemed to never end. 

The Doctor did her best to ignore the sensation of being unwelcome. “This is not your house. And that person you think you saw earlier in the TARDIS, that by the way was not the TARDIS, wasn’t me,” she began, her voice calming, despite the unnatural turmoil going on inside her. She couldn’t ignore how unsettling it was to look into your eyes and see a mixture of disappointment and sadness, veiling them. You never once doubted the Doctor, however at that specific moment it was crystal clear, you were uncertain whether to believe her or not. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I know what I saw, who I saw…”, you clarified, in a firm voice. 

The Doctor shook her head slowly, her hand moved from your shoulder to your cheek, or at least that was her intention. But you flinched, “Please, don’t–” you croaked out, making the Time Lady sick in her stomach. You never once pulled away from her, and that hurt the Doctor more than she’d like to admit. When she murmured your name in a soft plea, you clenched your eyes shut, hating the velvety sound of it. 

You bit back a choked sob, sick and tired of crying. “Don’t play with me anymore,” you wanted to be mad at her, to show a different demeanor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. “Haven’t you hurt me enough?”

“No. No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t,” she whispered with a certain urgency. She tilted her head to the side to meet your eyes. You were the absolute best thing that ever happened to her, and the fact that you didn’t know was entirely her fault. No matter how hard she tried to keep those she loved safe, the Doctor always ended up making the same mistakes, over and over. Because she loved you and you thought the opposite. 

You gave her a breathless, short chuckle, “If believing that makes you sleep easier at night, go ahead–”, you muttered sarcastically.

The Doctor slightly shook her head again. Normally she would respond with a playful remark, telling you Time Lords don’t really sleep, but there was nothing funny in the conversation you two were having. It had nothing to do with the usual domesticity between you. “Listen to me,” she tried again, and with a shaky hand, she tried to touch you again, “you’re trapped in your own mind now, the Veilstryx did this to you. Long story short, he took my form to hurt you, because that’s what he does– he feeds on people’s grief and biggest fears. He manipulates minds to his own advantage…” she could almost count all the freckles from your face, for how close she got. Both her hands were cupping your cheeks, her thumbs tracing soothing circles on your wet skin. “But I’m here now, the real me, the one that would never hurt you, hear me? Never.”

There was so much honesty and sincerity in her eyes, you found yourself vacillating. She sounded so much like your Doctor, the person you fell in love with, so different from the one you saw earlier in the TARDIS. 

“I want to trust you, and I feel like a part of me will always do, but what happened earlier– I can’t get it out of my head–”, you exhaled, making the Doctor’s breath hitch painfully. “I never thought you could hurt me like that-” you whispered, your voice was a mixture of sobs and gasps. It was harder to breathe, the more time passed. 

The Doctor wanted to shout now, but her voice died in her throat. She kept hold of you, hushing you gently and pulling you against her chest. You let her. Despite everything that happened, you’d always fall for her display of affections, fake or not. That’s what love did to people. It made them stupid, dependent, and weak. 

The Doctor had faced all kinds of enemies and dangers throughout her life, but nothing prepared her for such a twist. The possibility of you turning your back to her. “Please, don’t say that. I swear to you, that wasn’t me–” she croaked out, voice heavy with tears. “You have to believe me. I know it’s hard, but if you don’t– “ she clenched her eyes and let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t even spill those words. She couldn't even tell herself that you could die, even less to you. “I don’t want to lose you. Please, I’m beggin’ you. Please, don’t make me lose you.” 

There was a flicker of hesitation in your eyes now. Not to what she said, but to what you witnessed earlier in the TARDIS. You had your suspicions too, to be frank, because that person telling you all those horrible things had sounded so artificial, impossibly cruel, and the Doctor you knew was many things, but cruel. 

You lightly pulled away from her, eager to lock eyes with her, “you’re telling the truth?” You asked timidly, your voice so small and filled with vulnerability. When the Doctor nodded her head, without the minimum hesitation, you believed her right away. Perhaps it was irresponsible, and rather stupid, but you’d rather believe this version of her, the one you’ve always known, rather than the cruel one. 

“I want to believe you,” you continued, a sad smile tracing your features. “This truth is better than the one I saw earlier. Anything would be better than that.”

The Doctor’s eyes shone with hope then, “always been brilliant, you.” 

She caught you blushing softly and fidgeting at the compliment received. With extreme gentleness, as if it was the rawest thing in the world, she interlocked your fingers with hers. Another sign to show you she was there for you, and you had nothing to worry about. When she brought your knuckles to her lips, you stared deeply into her hazel eyes, and a wave of guilt flashed through you for all those horrible things you let yourself believe about the Doctor.  And if she was in your head now, there was the slight possibility that she knew–You needed to apologize, you needed to tell her you didn’t really believe all those things that crossed your mind the moment the Doctor– the Veilstryx curled his fingers around your neck with the purpose of hurting you. Because meeting her was and will always be the greatest gift of your life. 

“Doctor, I need to apologize for– when the Veilstryx took your form and said those things, I–”, you bit your tongue, feeling a crescendo of new tears welling up in your eyes. 

“Don’t go there, don’t you dare–” she argued quickly, yet fondly. “I’m the only one that owes you an apology, a big one. And I promise, I’ll make up to you for the rest of my life, but now we should focus on going back. You need to wake up, pull away from the Veilstryx and quickly.”

You nodded, however hesitantly. “How do I do that?” 

“By facing your fears and acknowledging them as such. Irrational scenarios of your mind.” That was indeed your Doctor, your brilliant, rambler Doctor. “They aren’t real and they will never be real. Break the contact with the Veilstryx, make sure he has nothing to hold on to. He has no power in the real world, and you should focus on what’s real, on the things you know are real–” 

You nodded again, and reluctantly let go of her hand to press your fingers firmly against your temples, as if that gesture would push away the lies he fed you with. Your heart rate picked up and cold sweat started pooling from your forehead. He was resisting you. 

“Help me,” you croaked out. “Help me see our life together.” 

You didn’t need to ask twice, when she spoke again, her voice was quieter, yet more serious, “Yaz is waiting for you in the TARDIS, the real one,” her eyes widened slightly when she averted her gaze from your eyes to the fingers on your temples. Your digits were turning the same color of the Veilstryx’s wings, as if they were— fading. He was starting to suck you away. 

She took your hands in her and took a sigh of relief, realizing she could still feel them. “She is worried sick about you but she’s also mad– nothing serious, you know her. She had a bad feeling about Nectoxia and she was right. Always right, that girl. We should listen to her more often,” there’s a hint of weak playfulness in her tone, that elicits a quiet chuckle in you. 

“I should’ve taken her money.”

“You should have. But don’t tell her I said that,” she mused tenderly. 

She started talking about all the adventures you lived together, the silly, quite ordinary moments in the TARDIS like the time you slipped on her sonic, while carrying a tray with freshly baked cookies. You were so determined to hold a grudge, but failed every time the Doctor would make eye contact with you. Her and her silly faces always made you cackle.

You merely rolled your eyes at the memory, “You ate all those that fell on the floor.” 

“Of course, I did. They were delicious,” she remarked, with a grin. 

As she kept talking, you listened attentively, your heart felt lighter and your body warmed up, as if it was coming back to life again. Your hands were tingling, they looked like a hologram, appearing and disappearing intermittently. You were fighting him. When her lips moved to the crown of your head, you smiled and closed your eyes for a brief second, basking in her affection and wishing it could go on forever. 

You let out a sigh while clinging to the Doctor’s tee. “The Veilstryx thought he could weaken me by showing me my biggest fear. Little did he know he only made me stronger,” you began, voice quiet but resolute. 

Her lip quivered slightly, but she was determined to not make a single noise. 

“I think it’s a common fear, especially for those that had the luck to travel with you, the idea that someday all of this will end. For the first moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were  my best chance in life to be the best version of myself. And I was right. I tried to be like you, to be brave, kind and extraordinary like you. I wanted you to notice me, the way I noticed you.” 

The Doctor wanted to say that she noticed you from the very beginning too. That she saw all the things you could be the exact moment you took her hand and joined her in her blue box. 

“I’ll hold onto you no matter how much it will hurt later. Because this–” you pulled away and pointed at you and her with a fond smile, “this is worth everything.”

The Doctor ran a hand across your cheek, her fingers trembled as she wiped all your new tears. She later pushed some of your hair from your face, combing it gently, so gently, you closed your eyes and let out a soft sigh. 

She leaned in, wishing to be part of your beautiful little bubble. “I’ve never been too good with words, but if there’s one thing I’m sure about is you. You’re an essential pillar in my life and you will always be. I don’t know what the future has in store for us, but I can see how beautiful our present is and I want to live it, the longest possible. And having a time machine at my disposal could help with that, don’t you think?” 

“Definitely,” you chuckled. 

Your hands were no longer fading, but you felt a tad weird, as if you were being pulled away. There was another voice you heard in the distance. You frowned and lolled your head to the side as to hear it better. 

Come on, come on, come back you two… what’s taking you so long?

“I think I’m hearing Yaz…” you muttered confusedly. 

“It’s okay,” she encouraged you with a warm smile. “It means you’re waking up. Let it happen. Yaz and I are gonna be there.”

“Promise?”

She nodded her head, eyes softening as she took in your adorable expression. She grasped your chin and lifted your face towards hers, her eyes basked in yours before shifting down towards your lips. Her face was so close you couldn’t help but wish to shorten that gap even more. 

I want to kiss you so bad right now, you thought to yourself.  

The Doctor chuckled against your mouth, her breath tickling your lips as she spoke. “Same here, stardust, but I think you’d appreciate it more if our first kiss didn’t happen in a dream.” 

In that exact moment you realized she heard your thoughts. And instead of feeling uneasy and embarrassed by it, you were happier than ever. You nodded your head, and your heart fluttered at her words. “You better be on the other side then.”

A small, sheepish grin played out on her face, along with a faint blush rose on her cheeks. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything in the Universe.”

[paradoxlemonade]

Nature of Curiousity

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Characters: Joe & Cleo

words: 1024

Warnings: very mild body horror (Cleo is embroidering on Joe, but he's made of fabric and does not feel pain)

Ao3: Here!

Summary: Joe Hills the puppet wants to make friends with humans. The humans do not want to be made friends with. Cleo puts him back together afterwards. [Abecedarian Prose Poem]

@mcyt-valentines gift for @therizino-ao3! Hope you enjoy :]

...

A sunrise the color of a bitter lemon tea beckons in the fresh morning scent of grass and dreams, soft around the edges and losing their remaining sharpness as sleep turns to wakefulness. Beneath an old willow tree, a corpse as fresh as the day it died rests in the dewy grass and embroiders artful designs into her best friend’s shoulder.

Cleo huffs at him, “You know, it would’ve been nice if you had waited until at least breakfast to go galavanting around and get yourself shot by a humanfolk.”

Dauntlessly undeterred as per usual, Joe merely smiles serenely and says, “But I must watch them, as the rain must fall and snow must melt; it is in my nature, sewn into my skin.”

Even-spaced threads holding his innards on the right side of the felt are the only thing decorating his skin, by Cleo’s own observation.

“Fine as that may be, your ‘nature’ does not make you invincible to arrows.” Generally speaking, being made of cloth made Joe invincible to very little, save for perhaps pain and common sense. He would grow tired of his game eventually, and then he would stop attempting to consort with the humanfolk (at least, Cleo hoped he would tire of it).

“If I am endlessly repairable no matter my condition, is that not a form of invincibility?”

 “Joe, you can only be repaired if I have the pieces to put you back together; if the humanfolk decide it would be more fun to capture you instead of running you off, you would be in more pieces than magic thread could possibly hold together.”

“Killjoys—that being people who deny my innermost whimsy, that being you—” he gestured at her with the arm not being worked on, “should not judge how one chooses to express themself, especially when they are themselves of humanfolk blood.”

Less ever said about one Joe Hills’ innermost whimsy, the more sane one would be, as neither consistency nor thoughts of sound minds are facets of his being.

Minutes flow around them like a gentle brook as Cleo continues her stitchwork and pointedly does not give his comments the dignity of a direct response, at least until she thinks of one worth saying.

“No humanfolk,” she began slowly, “Would consider me possible by their understanding of the world, let alone ‘of their blood’; I have not been theirs for a very long time.” One day was all it took to lose everything that she’d built over the course of her entire life, as one day was all it took for the sickness that ravaged her village like a pack of wolves descending on a flock of sheep to bury her in an early grave that she didn’t stay put in.

“Perhaps that much is fair and you have no love left for them, but I have never been theirs; the humanfolk ways are unlike our own, and I find myself pulled in again and again despite all attempts to the contrary.”

Quickly fleeting curiosity would be too much to ask, she supposed, as temporary passion was also as antithetical to Joe’s nature as he claimed sedation to be.

 “Really, you can’t be all too mad at me for this, because if you were as upset as you pretend to be, you wouldn’t have offered to sew me back up, and you certainly wouldn’t have added these nice yellow flowers without me needing to ask.”

She glances down to her hands as if seeing them for the first time that morning, the hands that gently wove the thread in and out of his fabric skin with a practiced ease and the comfort of a close friend. This conversation—despite its distances—has still grown much too close to an uncomfortable shard of glass nestled deep into her chest, digging and poking into the soft tissue beneath her heart that she could not excise no matter how strong her will. 

“Unfortunately, we still live in a world where I need to sew you back up for reasons other than your own foolishness, and it’s not like I could simply let someone I’ve worked on walk around looking like I did the job carelessly.” 

Vexed enough by her candid response, Joe allows the conversation to wander along to more familiar territory by changing the topic with all the subtlety he could muster—that is, not a whole lot.

 “What type of flowers are these meant to be, anyway?” Joe asks, stretching to see Cleo’s handiwork.

“Xyris flowers, of some kind; they’re all over around here and you seem to like them well enough that I didn’t think you would mind if I put some on your arm.”

Yellow petals of soft thread cascade from the top of his shoulder down midway to his elbow, just shy of of meeting up with the dusky green vines—those were almost ready to come out, but the new stitches would have to stay for a few weeks so the fabric could knit itself back together. Zero weeks have gone in recent memory that did not end with one of Cleo’s friends needing stitches (usually Joe, and usually for silly and-or humanfolk reasons), but she never stopped pulling out her needle and thread before they could even apologize for bothering her.

And as Joe thanks her for the help and the flowers, she leads him back to her house for an early breakfast to cap off an odd morning, all the while dreaming of a world where the humanfolk and the otherfolk didn’t have to live on opposite sides of the veil, and Joe could make strangers into friends.

 Better worlds and broken hearts are playing cards of the same set, but a card for resilience is also shuffled into that same deck. Crisp toast and peppery fried eggs aren’t quite miracle workers, but they’re enough to bring Cleo back up to normal when combined with good company. Dreams weren’t going to come true on their own, but maybe Joe was onto something with his adventures.

 Everything considered, it took him an hour longer than last time to get run off.

[percheduphere]

It troubles me when fans find Loki in his own tv series "out of character". Since the first Thor movie, Loki has shown a certain sweetness, protectiveness, and level-headedness that was overcome and eventually self-suppressed by rage and tragedy. He didn't have an environment in which he could thrive and, in Frigga's words, succeed at being who he truly is.

Loki desperately needed a support system outside his immediate family. That support system simply couldn't have been built on Asgard because of:

1. Odin's political machinations, including the intentional creation of an environment rife with sibling rivalry and blatant favoritism.

2. The racist if not xenophobic views of Asgardians.

3. The inherent masculine-dominant, warrior society culture of Asgard.

To break Loki out of his self-destructive patterns, it took the empathy of 1 brainwashed and memory-wiped TVA analyst to rightly recognize that Loki as a person has incredible potential and that he could actively do something about it. That Mobius uses this reasoning for the advantage of the TVA (then under HWR's helm) is a plot point I'll discuss later, but the fact still stands: Loki was given a second chance to be who he really is because of the choice Mobius made to intervene. Loki would have been pruned before he would have had the opportunity to meet Sylvie, B-15, Casey, and OB. This is fact.

Mobius literally drops everything--the case he's actively investigating--to intervene. The fact a minuteman immediately reports the variant of Loki he is most interested in has been taken into custody suggests that Mobius has been planning this intervention for some time.

Some fans hate Mobius for his treatment of Loki in the first episode. It is, indeed, manipulative, condescending, and to a certain extent, emotionally abusive. I'm not denying any of this, but from a narrative perspective, Mobius, to be a fully well-rounded character, necessarily must have his own flaws and personal conflicts to battle. Loki's evolution as a character, and thus his positive impact on others, would be missing an emotional beat of mutual reciprocation otherwise. That emotional beat pays off in every episode of S2, culminating in the final scene of the final episode. This is to say nothing of the likelihood that Loki would not have been receptive to any form of gentleness at that point in time to begin with.

Crucially, Mobius gets Loki to admit that his villainous persona is exactly that: an illusion constructed in a bid for control. Some viewers might interpret this scene as a shortcut for getting Loki to behave "out of character" by S1E2, but Thor 2 proves otherwise:

This scene with Thor demonstrates that Loki has a high pain tolerance and is adept at hiding pain. His need to mask his vulnerability, and how that vulnerability is intrinsically tied with the misplaced shame of who he is, resonates deeply with queer, people of color, immigrant, colonized, and adopted fans, many of whom have intersectional lived experiences (including myself). I believe it is for this reason that so many of us are desperate for blatant representation in mainstream entertainment, and to shame us for the sin of hoping is disturbing.

But I digress. Frigga, Thor, and now Mobius are among the few who can see through Loki's deception. That deception has the unfortunate effect of hurting not only innocent civillians but his loved ones and himself (closeting, internalized racism).

Once Loki is able to drop that persona through admission, however, he is able to relax and be himself in the TVA. And in being himself, Loki is consequently able to love himself, which manifests through loving Sylvie. S1 shows Loki holding her up on a romantic pedestal: he chases after her, he sings a song for her, he wants her to be okay. He loves her, yes, and though it appears she does not reciprocate (in my opinion, your mileage might vary), Sylvie does love Loki enough back to buy him a drink and counsel him about what he really wants. This scene is critical in Loki's development in the same way Mobius sheds light on his potential to be whoever he wants.

Both Mobius and Sylvie are integral for Loki to arrive at his turning point, his ultimate sacrifice. Loki loves Sylvie. He therefore chooses to not kill her. Killing her, moreover, would not solve the issue of free will. Sylvie is right in believing free will, and thus the multiverse, is right and necessary. Sylvie's moral question and Loki sparing her life, answers Mobius's belief that Loki can be whoever he wants.

On the other side of this coin, watching Mobius in the final scene, hearing Mobius whisper, "Let time pass..." answers Sylvie's question of what Loki wants, and what he want more deeply than not being alone is for his friends, most especially Mobius (whom he also loves and cares for most, to LIVE.

The series ends with only 2 characters heartbroken with the outcome of Loki's heroism, which Mobius knew existed within him from the beginning. He saw those little but important moments: Loki comforting his brother, Loki protecting Jane, Loki giving up his life to buy Thor time, and so much more, he saw and he knew Frigga's words were right.

[kikyoupdates]

Bloodthirst ⭑˚💋⭑ 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑑

bnha x vampire!reader

reverse harem, my hero academia x fem!reader, my vampire!reader, slowburn

As punishment for your sins, you, a young vampire, are banished — not just from your home, but to a different world entirely. Now, you find yourself in a foreign place where Quirks and heroes are the norm. In addition to coming to terms with your new life, you must also face your greatest challenge: controlling your massive thirst for blood.

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It was a few days into your stay in this new world, and you’d finally managed to get your hands on the magical device known as a cellphone.

“How does it work?” you asked, eyes wide as you looked it over from all angles. You tapped on its screen, but nothing happened. “Mine doesn’t light up the way the others do. Did they sell us a faulty product?”  

Izuku giggled. “It’ll turn on, don’t worry. You just need to plug it in so it can charge, like this... and you hold down the power button for it to start up.”  

He fiddled with a cable that plugged directly into the device on one end, then into the wall, through what Izuku had called an “outlet”. You weren’t familiar with any of this stuff, so it may as well have been sorcery to you.  

But true to Izuku’s words, the phone’s screen eventually lit up, and all sorts of vibrant colors and patterns soon graced your eyes. 

“Wow!” you gushed. “How does it do that? It looks so cool!”  

“This is just where technology is at in this world,” Izuku shrugged. “Cellphones used to be a lot more basic, just for making calls and sending texts, but now they’ve become mini computers. They can do a lot of really sophisticated stuff.”  

“What’s a computer?”  

“Ah... right. I guess I should have expected that.” He pointed towards the end of his room, towards what looked to be another screen, but way bigger than the cellphone’s. “Computers are devices that are really smart. They’re programmed that way. You can look up all kinds of information with them, play games, watch videos... there’s really no end to the possibilities. Cellphones are really convenient because they act like computers, but they’re portable, so you can carry them around with you wherever you go. It’s pretty neat, huh?” 

“This is life-changing,” you mumbled breathlessly.  

Izuku laughed. “Yeah, you could definitely say that. Here, I’ll teach you how to use your phone. It sounds more complicated than it actually is, I promise.” 

That was what he said, but it sure didn’t turn out that way for you. There were so many different little features on screen. Some of them did things when you tapped on them; others didn’t. Izuku was doing his best to show you how everything worked, but it was such a staggering difference from what you were used to that it was just too much to take in all at once. 

Not only that, but you quickly realized you had another problem. 

“For the time being, I’m going to add myself as a contact,” Izuku said. He tapped on the screen a few times—not that you could really make sense of it—then eventually passed the phone back to you, smiling brightly. “See? You have your first contact now. That’s my name right there.”  

You blinked. “What does it say?”

“Hm? What do you mean? It’s my name. Midoriya Izuku.”  

“No, I mean... I can tell there’s something written there, but I can’t read it. The symbols don’t make any sense to me.”  

Panic was quick to creep onto Izuku’s expression. “You can’t read kanji? Or hiragana? But... you’ve been speaking in fluent Japanese this entire time.”  

“I’m not even really sure how that happened either. It might be a side-effect of the spell that brought me to this world, but I was able to understand the language pretty quickly just by hearing it a few times. I definitely don’t know how to read or write, though.”  

“Oh, well... that’s not good,” Izuku swallowed, and it was clear that he was putting it lightly. For better or worse, this country, Japan, was your home now. You were kind of screwed if you didn’t have the ability to grasp written forms of communication.  

Izuku pursed his lips, clearly lost in thought, then grabbed a blank piece of paper and placed it front of you. He’d brought some pencils as well.

“Try writing your name,” he suggested. “If you were able to understand our language just by being exposed to it, maybe it’s the same with reading and writing too. Maybe it’ll come to you much quicker than you think.”  

You decided there was no harm in trying, so you did just that.  

“This is how you write my name,” you smiled proudly, lifting up the paper so that Izuku could see it better. 

Regretfully, he just looked even more worried than before. “I-I’ve definitely never seen anything like this before,” he stammered. “I’m pretty sure there’s no language like this anywhere on Earth. Then again, I guess that’s not surprising, since you’re literally from a whole different world...”  

You frowned, then took another peek back at the contact Izuku had saved on your phone. No matter how hard you tried, you failed to understand how the symbols he’d inputted were meant to translate. You were lucky to have grasped the spoken language right away, otherwise you would’ve probably been speaking in gibberish on the streets and people would have thought you were insane. Unfortunately, as for reading and writing, it looked like you were going to have to learn it the hard way.

“I’ll do my best to teach you the basics,” Izuku reassured. “But, um... while you’re here, I think it’d be good to consider going to school. You’ll learn everything you need there. And there’s a limit to what I can teach you all on my own.”  

“School sounds fun,” you beamed. 

“Have you been to school before?”  

“Not really. My parents hired various tutors to teach me academics back at home.”  

“R-Right. I guess royalty have a different way of doing things. But,” he perked up, “I’m sure you probably received a really solid education, so you’ll have no trouble picking things up here. It might seem intimidating at first, but you’re smart, [Name]. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out.”  

“How do you know that I’m smart?” you asked.  

“Well... aren’t you?”  

“Am I?”  

You both stared at each other for a good while. Clearly, this was a stalemate.  

“Anyways!” Izuku continued. “I’m going to start with the foundation of all the basics. And you can learn to write your name while we’re doing this. It’ll be a good first step.”  

You gripped your pencil tight and nodded, eager to learn. 

Japanese was hard. Actually, you supposed you should say that learning a new language from scratch was hard in and of itself, but based on what Izuku had told you, Japanese was one of the most difficult languages to learn in this world—especially for a non-native speaker.

So, yeah. That was great.  

Even so, you weren’t deterred in the slightest. It wasn’t like there was much you could do about it, after all. Moving to a different country all of a sudden certainly wasn’t an option, plus, you weren’t willing to sever your connection with Izuku either. This was your home now, and you had a good feeling about this place. You just needed to put in the effort to make it your own. 

Izuku did what he could to teach you, but attending school was obviously the most efficient approach. Actually getting into school, however, was a different matter altogether. You’d initially been thinking that your stay with Izuku would be a temporary one, but you were already afraid of being separated from him. You didn’t know what you would do if you were left alone. Teenagers like you weren’t allowed to live on their own, so most likely, you would end up being placed in an orphanage since no one was around to take care of you.  

Frankly speaking, you hated the thought of that, so you decided to pull out all the stops and come clean to Inko. 

“I’m from a different world,” you blurted all too suddenly over dinner. Izuku’s food quite literally fell out of his mouth from shock, and Inko gave you a funny look, although she didn’t seem too worked up over it. She probably just thought you were saying silly things as a joke. 

“Is this some sort of reference I’m not getting?” she frowned.  

“N-No,” you said sheepishly. “I’m really telling the truth. I didn’t want you to try and contact the police or anything because I don’t even have a family to return to. At least, not in this world. I ended up here one day, and Izuku was nice enough to help me out when I had nowhere to go. I was thinking of keeping this a secret because I figured I would only be staying here for a little while... but I’m honestly scared to leave. I don’t know where I’ll go.” 

Inko probably still didn’t believe you, but her expression seemed more solemn now.  

“[Name],” she said gently. “What’s going on at home? You can tell me. No matter what it is, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe.” 

Ah. She still thought you came from a complicated family, and probably assumed you didn’t want to go back home to be around your parents. If you went with that story, though, at some point, you worried she really would get the authorities involved. 

No. Even if it was a long-shot, you needed to convince her. She was Izuku’s mom, and he already knew your secret. You just hoped that even though she was an adult, she wouldn’t dismiss you as some troubled teen making up excuses.  

“[Name], wait,” Izuku mumbled, but you’d already stepped out of your chair and begun moving closer to Inko. 

She watched, looking confused beyond measure, as you opened up your mouth and revealed your teeth, which sharpened into fangs. You knew it would probably take more than this to convince her, but it was a start, at least.  

“I’m a vampire,” you said. “I need to drink blood to survive. My world is very different from this one, filled with all kinds of creatures and different species that don’t exist over here.”  

Inko swallowed uncomfortably. “[Name], I’m not sure where you’re going with this, but I really, really want you to be honest with me. You don’t need to make up stories. What exactly is going on with you and your family?”  

“I wish it was a story,” you sighed heavily. “My parents aren’t with me. They’re back in my old world. Vampires like me are pretty strong and heal quickly too. Don’t you think it’s weird how fast my injuries healed up? I got hurt pretty bad, two days in a row, but I’m already as good as new.”  

Instead of giving you a direct answer, Inko glanced towards her son, who had gone awfully quiet.  

“Izuku,” she frowned. She seemed to be searching his expression for some sort of explanation. “[Name], what is she—?”  

“She’s telling the truth,” Izuku mumbled. “Mom, I know it all sounds super ridiculous, but I don’t like to lie to you. [Name] doesn’t even know how to read or write. Not just in Japanese, but in any language, for that matter. She has no clue about how technology works either. You could ask her when the second World War took place, or even what it is, and she wouldn’t have a clue.”

Inko’s bottom lip trembled. “What the... t-this is all sounding very strange, you two. Izuku! Are you sure your friend is alright? This a serious matter, so I’m begging you, don’t play games with me.”  

“It’s not a game, mom. We’re serious.” 

“About vampires? But that’s just not possible.”  

“I could show you if you want,” you offered. “Izuku’s let me drink his blood before, back when I really needed it.”  

Oops. Perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say to a mother, especially when it involved her own son, but Izuku backed up your statement with a hasty nod—all the while blushing profusely. 

“My parents don’t exist in this world,” you continued, looking a bit more dejected now. “I promise I’m not lying. I didn’t even know about Quirks or any of that until Izuku explained them to me. You could call just about all the police in the country, but I can guarantee that nobody will be able to register me anywhere. It’s a crazy situation, and I know how it sounds, but it is the truth.”

She’d gone completely silent, and you were actually a bit worried that she was going to turn you in and have you committed to some sort of mental institution, but thankfully, Inko really was Izuku’s mom. She was kind to a fault.  

Her shoulders sagged. “Goodness... I-I don’t even know what to say. Okay, then. Let’s say for the sake of argument that I believe you. I would still want some sort of proof.”

“Hm... you could wait it out for a little while and see how close I’ll get to dying if I don’t drink any blood?”

Both Inko and Izuku stared back at you in abject terror. Okay, so that suggestion was a dud.  

“I could hurt myself really bad and then show you how quickly I heal up once I do drink blood?”  

Strange. They didn’t seem too keen on that one either.  

“In that case, I’m fresh out of ideas,” you shrugged.  

“Mom, we’re really telling the truth,” Izuku insisted. “I don’t even know if it can really be proven, but [Name] knows nothing about our world. It just doesn’t seem like something that would be possible unless she wasn’t actually from here. She has nowhere to go. If you call the cops, social services, or whatever... she’ll be alone. And afraid. And I really don’t want that for her."

Inko stared at you for a few good moments. Out of nowhere, she gripped you by the shoulders and squeezed down tight.  

“I’ll only ask this one more time,” she said sternly. “Your family... they haven’t done anything to make you too afraid to go back home? Enough that you would make up a crazy story like this to convince me to let you stay?”  

You smiled. “Nope. I’m not scared of my parents. I can’t say they’re as nice as you, but I didn’t leave home voluntarily. One day, I’m going to find a way to get back to my world, no matter what it takes.”  

Inko let out a shuddering breath. “It... really doesn’t look like you’re lying. At the very least, I can’t see it in your eyes. Or maybe you’re just a terribly good liar and have me completely fooled. Oh, alright. If you really have nowhere else to go, and since you’re the first friend Izuku’s had in a long time... then, yes. You can keep staying here with us.”  

It hardly took a second for you and Izuku to break out into cheers. 

“Yes!” you exclaimed, rushing towards your friend and wrapping him in a big hug. He reacted with a nervous little squeak and a bright red flush, the way he always did, but he too seemed to share your enthusiasm. “We get to stay together,” you grinned. “I don’t have to leave and find somewhere else to live! I’m so happy!” 

“Y-Yeah!” he beamed back. “This is great news! Thank you so much, mom! Thank you for helping us out.”  

Inko smiled warmly. “It was worth it just to see the looks on your faces, if nothing else. I still don’t even know what I believe... but I can tell [Name] is a good girl. For now, that’s more than enough.”  

“Oh, right,” Izuku blinked in realization. “She needs to attend school. That’s the whole reason she wanted to tell you the truth. If she goes to school with me, she can learn a whole lot more about our world this way. I’m trying to teach her as much as I can, but it’s harder than I expected.” 

“School? Well, I can try enrolling her into your middle school, but I’m pretty sure I’d have to be her legal guardian for that to work.” Inko nibbled on her lower lip. “It’ll be difficult to obtain those documents, especially if there’s no record of [Name] to begin with. I’m not sure how it’ll go.”

“It’s worth a shot,” you grinned, completely unbothered.  

You were on cloud nine right now, and it was going to be damn hard to dash your spirits. Which was why, the very next day, you dressed up all pretty in one of your new outfits and made a prompt visit to Izuku’s middle school, which you would hopefully be attending soon.

Both Inko and Izuku had come along with you, naturally, and you found yourself face to face with the school’s principal.  

Currently, he was staring down at your admission documents with a puzzled expression. “Different last name, I see. Mrs. Midoriya, do you have legal guardianship of this child?”

“N-Not yet,” Inko stammered out. “But she’s been staying at our home for the last little while. I can provide proof of our living conditions, and she’s been properly taken care of.” 

“Well, can you get in contact with the child’s family?”

“My whole family’s dead,” you chimed in—a bit too eagerly, perhaps. “Izuku and his mom are, um... very, very, very distant friends of one of my late relatives, so they took me in.”

The principal gave you a look of disbelief. “Uh-huh. Well, my hands are tied here. It sounds like a complicated situation, but I can’t very well allow someone to enroll a child that they don’t have legal custody of. Sort out the matter in court first, and try to transfer in later.”

From what Izuku had told you, these legal matters could take a long time, and quite frankly, you didn’t feel like waiting. There was also the issue of getting other people involved. You didn’t need anyone poking their nose into your business and realizing how many things about you just didn’t add up. It would raise a whole lot of undue suspicion. Worst case scenario, the authorities would take you away from Izuku by force.

There was no chance you were going to let that happen. But thankfully, you had an idea.  

Admittedly, a reckless one.

You turned towards Izuku and Inko with a smile. “Do you two mind waiting outside for a minute? I just want to try and talk to this nice man on my own.”

“Sorry, kid,” the principal sighed. “No matter what you say to me, my answer will be the same. I’m not looking to get in trouble with the law.”

Your smile didn’t drop, and although Izuku and Inko were staring at you with visible confusion, you still gestured for them to leave the room first.

Once you were finally alone with the principal, you leaned across the desk. “Sorry about this,” you mumbled quietly.  

“Huh? What are you—?”  

You grabbed him by the arm before he could get a proper reply out, then sunk your fangs into his skin. He briefly yelped out from the pain, of course, but you didn’t drink very much blood from him. You didn’t need a lot. After all, you had a different purpose in mind.

“You’re crazy,” he winced. “Absolutely crazy. I’m really going to call the police now.”  

“Don’t you dare,” you ordered, and the man’s hand dropped right as he reached for his phone. You could feel your head throbbing, the way it always did when you tried to use this technique, but at least it seemed to be working. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” you smiled. “You’re going to let me attend this school, and the same class as Izuku, too. You’re not going to stir up a fuss and demand that Inko shows you the paperwork, and you’re also not going to tell anyone about what just happened. You’re going to forget I ever bit you, actually. All you need to do is approve my enrollment, and that’s that.”  

You snapped your fingers, and just like that, the hypnosis came undone.  

“W-What?” he blinked, glancing all over the place in confusion. “I was just... what did I...?”  

“You were just about to celebrate the fact that I’m starting classes tomorrow,” you beamed. “Right?”  

He stared at you for a few moments, with a vague look of understanding, but eventually nodded his head, suddenly much more sure of himself.

“Oh, yes!” he beamed. “That’s right. [Last Name][Name]… ah, perfect. Yes, it looks like everything I need is in order. And you can start classes as early as tomorrow, you said?”  

“Yep! I’m super excited to meet everyone and make tons of friends!”  

“That’s a good attitude to have. I’m thrilled to welcome you to your new school, [Name]. I’m sure the other members of our faculty will feel the same way once they find out.”  

“Awesome! I’ll get plenty of sleep tonight, so that I can be ready for school bright and early,” you grinned. “Thanks so much for everything, Mr. Nice Principal. It was lovely to meet you!”

The principal chuckled softly and waved you off, up until you left his office. Only once the door fully shut did he allow himself to wince, then rolled up his sleeve and furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“Are these... bite marks? How in the world...” 

Back on your side of the door, Izuku was all over you, fretting incessantly. “[N-Name], are you okay? It sounded like he got angry with you for a moment... we thought we heard yelling. As expected, it’s a no-go, huh?”  

“What are you talking about? He approved my admission.” 

“Eh?”

Both Izuku and Inko were staring at you in bewilderment. Your head was still aching quite a bit, and it would probably continue to do so for a little while, but it was worth it. You normally hated putting people under the effects of your hypnosis after drinking some of their blood. It felt like a slimy thing to do, and it kind of was, but you really wanted to go to school with Izuku. It was just this one time. Just this once.

“Don’t worry about it,” you grinned. “I have my ways.”

You said that, but you’d been lucky that it had even worked, since you weren’t very good at using hypnosis to begin with. Maybe this was fate, though. There was that saying that everything happened for a reason, after all.  

Izuku peered over at you while you walked through the halls, his eyes slowly narrowing. “Um... [Name]. That’s not blood on your lips... is it?”

“Hehe. Oopsie.”  

“What did you do?!”  

It wasn’t at all uncommon that Katsuki found himself in a bad mood, but he’d been in an especially bad mood these past couple of days.  

And it was all your damn fault.  

Finding out that Izuku had somehow made a friend was already irritating enough, but to make matters even worse, you’d gotten on his damn nerves and challenged him to a fight. A fight that hadn’t gone as planned, as much as he hated to admit it. He’d underestimated you. Clearly, you were a lot stronger than you looked, which begged the question as to why you hung out with that goddamn loser. 

Then again, you seemed to be one hell of a weirdo yourself. Katsuki still shuddered every now and then when he remembered the way you’d greedily slurped up his blood. Seriously, who did that?  

My shitty mom screamed at me for hours after I got back home looking all beat-up like that... fucking hell. If I ever see that bitch again, I’m gonna make her regret messing with me.  

Katsuki rubbed at his bruised face and grimaced. Class was as damn boring as always, and it didn’t help that he could see that shitty nerd fidgeting in his seat out of the corner of his eye. What the hell did he have to be so restless about? It was fucking creepy.

“Ahem,” the teacher said, clearing his throat all of a sudden. “It’s a bit unexpected during this time of year, but I’d like to take a moment to introduce a new student to our class. Everyone please be sure to give her a warm welcome. You can come in now, by the way!”  

The door slid open, and Katsuki yawned loudly, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. As if he could care less about whichever extra was joining the class. 

“Hi, everyone!” 

Katsuki’s eyes widened. That voice. He knew that voice.  

A pathetic wheeze left his mouth, and he couldn’t help the way his jaw dropped nearly all the way to the ground. There was no way. There was just no way.  

And yet there you were, grinning and waving at everyone, with so much as a care in the world.  

It was only until your eyes locked with his that your expression changed, but it didn’t shift into discomfort or fear.  

Instead, you openly smirked at him.

“You fucking bitch!” Katsuki roared, slamming his palms down on the table loud enough that everyone turned their heads.  

The teacher gave him a cross look. “Come on, Bakugou. Let’s not start this early in the morning. Be nice to your new classmate.”

“That’s right,” you kept on smirking. “I’m excited to be friends with everyone, including you. Don’t you feel the same way?”  

Katsuki officially had a new person on his shit list.

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[stayevildarling]

Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Fade into you

A/N: Honestly I never expected Mina to win this poll but I'm glad she did 🫶🏻 this is some soft AU Mina fluff

tw: mild mention of scoliosis, mild mention of sickness (temperature, flu), mention of pain medication, fluff

word count: 8k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay , @whitelotus00 , @ninaahs , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @paulsonsratched , @stepintomyworld , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometime , @ohrwurm26 , @wastdstime ,

Wilhemina Venable was many things, incredibly smart, sassy, not afraid to hold back when someone annoyed her with their stupidity, she was an introvert, living in her own little life that she enjoyed including her routines. However she definitely wasn't outgoing, she wasn't one to consciously go to a social event, meet people voluntarily unless it was somehow included in her job for the company she works for.

And so it really was a surprise when you spotted her at the book club meeting at the library you had been working at for quite some time now. It certainly wasn't a career, but on the way to your degree, it certainly was a quiet part time job, paying the bills, while you got to be around the things you had always loved most- books. Your shift was almost finished, setting up the chairs and a little tea station for the book club meeting, people slowly drawing in from outside to discuss one of their favourite authors. And that's when you spotted her again, the mysterious woman with red hair, the sound of a cane echoing through the usual silent library following her wherever she went, as well as the color lilac that coated her beautiful features.

,,Wilhemina'' you think to yourself, your photogenic memory reminding you of her name when she first signed up a few months ago and how captivated you had been by her ever since. She was a regular at this point, at first really only coming in to get some books before disappearing again, always bringing them back on time, mostly a few days before she was meant to. Before she eventually spent every Wednesday afternoon at the library, assuming that must be her day off from work. It was undeniably a surprise to see her here tonight, as throughout the last few months you had never seen her engage with anyone before, always quiet, never exchanging too many words with you but you could see a depth behind her brown eyes that you definitely had gotten lost in a few times by now.

Through the dimly lit library, you watch as she approaches, the soft glow illuminating her features, wearing a lilac long skirt, matching jacket and a slightly darker shade collar, her heels and cane dancing on the floor, echoing through the quiet library, before more people draw in, blending out the noise. As she takes a seat, book neatly in her lap, you feel as her eyes linger on you, despite working on your tasks of neatly setting down the cups and biscuits for the book club members. While the meeting begins, you consider whether to join, having of course read the book, but deciding against it as you still had a pile of assignments to finish. However, before signing out from your computer, you decide to stay a little longer, retreating upstairs to the gallery, overlooking the library and ultimately book club meeting, typing away quietly on your computer, while still observing carefully.

Despite your best attempts, you couldn't stop glancing at the scene downstairs, hearing them chat, laugh and read some pages, your eyes always darting back to the mysterious woman named Wilhemina. And whenever your eyes averted them, focusing your attention on your screen and work again, you missed how the same mysterious woman would glance towards you, having of course noticed your absence and where you had retreated to, unaware that she was equally captivated by you. Some time passes, enough time for you to mostly finish a draft for your essay, and so glancing at the time, you collect your things, knowing you would have to do this all over again tomorrow, arrive at work for the early shift and having to balance your assignments.

After heading downstairs, you catch one last glimpse of Wilhemina, still engrossed in her book, her expression unreadable. You can't shake the feeling of curiosity about her, about what she's like beyond the surface, beyond the walls she put up around herself. As you pass by the book club members, you exchange polite smiles and nods, but your mind is elsewhere, still thinking about the redhead woman. She was like a puzzle, one you can't quite solve, a mystery waiting to be unravelled. Nevertheless you head towards home, her gaze following you as you exit the library, wanting to urgently catch up on some rest before returning tomorrow.

As the sun begins it's descent, casting a warm golden glow over the city, you find yourself once again at the library, preparing for another day of work. Today is Wednesday and for some reason you can't shake the anticipation of seeing Wilhemina again. Her presence lingers in your thoughts since last night, her mysterious aura captivating your mind.

The clock ticks closer to the afternoon, and it's no surprise as you hear the familiar sound of the library door opening, heels and a cane tapping softly against the flooring. There she is, Wilhemina Venable, stepping into the quiet sanctuary of books. Her lilac attire stands out against the muted colours of the library, her presence both ethereal and comforting.

,,Good afternoon Ms Venable'' you greet her as she approaches your desk, your features soft. She carries a stack of books in a bag, before retreating them one by one and passing them to you, including her pass with an equally warm smile ,,Good afternoon'' she greets you.

,,Returning these?" you ask softly, internally scolding yourself as it was quite obvious that she was returning those. The redhead woman nods, causing for a rush of nervous energy to course through you.

,,Not much of a crime fan?'' she startles you as you scan her pass, the woman pointing towards the book you had been reading next to your computer. Your eyebrows furrow, before she speaks again ,,I couldn't help but notice your absence last night'' she fills you in before your mouth forms an O shape in realisation of her words.

,,Oh, I.. I had some work to catch up on'' you reply, a hint of sheepishness in your voice. ,,Essays and assignments, you know how it is''. As you speak she listens intently to your every words, reading each one of your expression as if she was equally studying you like some book. As if she wanted to read every page, unravel each little thing about you.

The woman simply nods understandingly as you pass her back her library pass, a glint of something in her eyes, a curiosity that mirrors your own. ,,Perhaps next time'' she suggests, her lips quirking into a small smile. As your surprised eyes meet hers, the shock of her invitation quite literally written across your features, she is quick to add ,,It's always nice to have a new perspective in the discussion'' causing you to quickly force a polite smile.

,,Definitely Ms Venable'' you assure, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you at her words. You watch as she leaves, retreating to the usual shelves of books that must be her favourite genre to read before she disappears in the maze of the library, the countless shelves, thousands of books and people blending in the darkness of the library, despite the soft glow around, mixed with the beginning sunset.

The atmosphere in the library feels charged with the energy of the woman's presence, her departure leaving you with a sense of longing and curiosity. You can't help but wonder what it would be like to spend more time with her, to unravel the layers of mystery that surround her. As the day goes on, you find yourself lost in thoughts, your mind wandering back to the woman. Despite the tasks of shelving books and helping people, her image almost vividly lingers on your mind, her lilac presence haunting your thoughts.

When your shift finally comes to an end, closing up for the night before heading out the library, the golden rays of the sun setting, cast a long shadow on the sidewalk. As you make your way home, you can't help the feeling of excitement that bubbles within you, the prospect of seeing the woman again, filling you with anticipation.

The days pass by in a whirlwind of work, study and the occasional thoughts of Wilhemina. Each day, you find yourself eagerly anticipating the next book club meeting, the woman lingering in your mind like a sweet melody. As the week progresses, you make sure to read up on the book that the club will be discussing, spending your evening lost in it's pages, in the world of the story, eager to be prepared for the discussion.

Finally, the day of the book club meeting arrives, again stacking up the little tea and biscuit table and setting out the chairs neatly. It doesn't take long before the usual group of book club members gather, chatting animatedly amongst themselves. You spot Wilhemina sitting in her usual spot, book tugged on her lap in the same usual way. Taking a deep breath, you join the group, feeling a sense of belonging wash over you as you take your seat. The discussion begins and you find yourself eagerly participating, sharing your thoughts and insights on the book.

As the evening progresses, you find yourself drawn to the redhead woman sitting across from you, the two of you occasionally exchanging glances and subtle smiles as the conversation flows around you. You could tell she wasn't too pleased with one of the members, named Karen who's opinions are definitely controversial, noticing the grip around her cane tighten whenever the woman spoke and even the occasional eye roll, going unnoticed by the group but not you, ever perceptive. You find yourself chuckling silently at her antics, taken back by the captivating redhead.

After the meeting comes to an end, you find yourself reaching for a little to go cup and filling it with some tea, knowing the journey home would be longer today, considering you missed your usual bus connection. While the noise from the members leaving, slowly draws out, you are a little startled as you hear cane taps echo behind you, causing you to turn around and catch a glimpse of Wilhemina. ,,I'm glad you could make it'' she remarks, giving you a warm smile before the two of you opt for walking out together. ,,Thank you Ms Venable'' you remark, your heart beating fast and loud against your chest as the two of you make it out of the quiet library and into the jungle of the city, filled with noises and cars and people rushing past you both.

,,Usual shift tomorrow?'' she questions curiously, her brown eyes meeting yours. ,,Yes'' you confirm with a warm smile, before she nods. ,,See you tomorrow'' she remarks before the two of you part ways with a polite nod. You linger for a little longer, watching as she disappears into the crowds, before turning on your heels and making your way home, the puzzle pieces finally adding together. Tonight you had learned that just like you imagined, she was incredibly smart, she didn't speak all that much during the meeting but whenever she did, she managed to read and study the characters and story in a fascinating way, her words chosen with a depth that touched you. And you also learned that she was polite with you, however not holding back her disapproval of some other members who spoke much less composed than her, much less smart and engaged than her.

As the following day at the library unfolds, you find yourself stealing glances at Wilhemina whenever you can, your mind swirling with thoughts of the captivating redhead. Despite the steady flow of people coming in and out of the library, she remains in her usual spot, engrossed in a book.

You can't shake the feeling that you want to talk to her, to engage in conversation beyond the usual polite greeting you exchange. But a nagging voice of doubt in your mind holds you back, reminding you of the professional boundaries you should maintain. You had no idea of the woman she was outside of the library, the life she was living, the possibility of people in that said life and her relationships, not wanting to burden her with your presence.

Yet, as the afternoon wears on and the library grows quieter, the urge to speak to her becomes overwhelming. You find yourself making your way over to her corner, your heart beating a little faster with each step. ,,Ms Venable'' you start, clearing your throat nervously as you approach her. She looks up from her book, her brown eyes meeting yours with a curious gaze.

,,I hope you don't mind me interrupting you'' you continue, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach. ,,I couldn't help but notice you've been reading quite a bit lately, are you enjoying the book?''

The woman's lips curve into a small smile, and she nods then. ,,Yes it's been quite... captivating'' she replies. ,,In fact, I was wondering when the second part of this series is expected at the library''

You feel a wave of excitement at her question, grateful for the opportunity to engage in conversation with her. ,,Oh, let me check that for you'' you say eagerly, disappearing for a moment as you pull up the library database on your computer. After a quick search you find the information she is searching for, before returning.

,,It looks like the second part is due to arrive next week'' you inform her, glancing back up to meet her gaze. ,,Would you like me to reserve a copy for you?'' Her smile widens at your question, before she nods appreciatively ,,That would be wonderful, thank you'' she replies. ,,I'll definitely be looking forward to it''. Walking towards your desk again, she follows you, her library pass needed to finalise the reservation. ,,Thank you Miss-'' she begins, but you quickly interrupt her ,,it's Y/N'' you offer and she nods before smiling at you ,,Wilhemina''.

A few days pass, and as Wilhemina returns to the library, she notices your absence behind the desk, figuring it must be your day off today. She settles into her usual corner with her book, the familiarity of the library's surroundings providing her comfort. The truth was the redhead never had a lot of free time, mostly only her evenings, her career as HR demanding both physically and mentally. She eventually demanded a regular day off per week, wanting to focus more on herself, getting a decent hobby besides reading every night when she returned while the history channel played in the background. And so she had opted for the local library, reading about the book club meetings and regular events and she had enjoyed it ever since, despite not being the outgoing type.

As you step into the quiet space, your eyes find your coworker first, Janice, she was considerably older, should have retired by now but enjoyed working there regardless. You fall into some easy conversation with her, as she scolds you for showing up on your day off but telling her you just had some quick business. Wilhemina can't help but notice your presence, the sight filling her with a sense of warmth and you can't help but smile as you approach her.

,,Hi'' you greet her, your voice soft, yet filled with genuine warmth. ,,I hope you don't mind me stopping by on my day off'' you announce. Wilhemina looks up from her book, surprise flickering in her brown eyes before a small smile graces her lips. ,,Not at all, it's a pleasant surprise'' she admits, setting her book aside. ,,Is everything alright?'' she asks almost with a hint of concern in her features.

You nod before speaking ,,I just came by because I have something for you'' you explain, feeling a rush of nervous energy course through you, before retreating a book from your bag. ,,Is this?'' she questions, her eyebrows furrowing. ,,Yes it's the second part, I managed to get my hands on a copy a little early'' you explain as you pass it to her.

Her facial expression changes from a warm smile to almost an unreadable one and you worry whether you had upset her somehow, whether you had crossed a boundary with her. ,,Thank you, I appreciate it truly'' she thanks you, unaware that her reaction was due to her feeling deeply touched but the redhead woman not used to anyone going out of their way in order to do something for her.

,,Would you like to take a seat? that's if you're not busy?'' she offers, pointing towards the chair across from her. And you take it, sitting down opposite her. ,,What kind of books do you enjoy?'' she asks curiously.

And so, the two of you engage in a lively conversation about books, exchanging recommendations and discussing your favourite genres and authors. You quickly learn that Wilhemina enjoys both history books, as well as mystery and crimes, even the occasional romance and horror book. As you talk, you find yourself drawn to her passion for literature, her insights and recommendations sparkling your own curiosity. Before you know it, time seems to slip away, the library around you growing dimmer as the sun begins to set.

,,I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm just closing up'' Janice informs you both, startling the two of you a little. ,,Of course'' Wilhemina remarks, the two of you quick to retreat your things. ,,Do you need any help closing up?'' you ask politely before your coworker chuckles ,,No darling, it's your day off'' she speaks before ushering you out. Wilhemina can't help but think about your kindness, as the two of you part ways, deeply touched by the gesture of you getting the book early for her.

Another week passes, and you find yourself in the all too familiar library, logging out of your computer before getting ready to close up, as you gather your things, you are startled when you hear the all too familiar sound of a cane and you instantly turn around as you watch the redhead approach. ,,Wilhemina'' you greet her politely, as you watch her glance around the empty library. You watch her eyebrows furrow before you recall the reasoning for her being there ,,Oh I'm so sorry, did you not get the memo?'' you ask, glancing at the note that explained this weeks meeting was cancelled due to the usual person running it being sick. She glances at it as well, scolding herself for not signing up for the newsletter that you had recommended, as she didn't want any spam emails. ,,No, I'm sorry'' she chuckles, her cheeks coated in a slight red. ,,I was just going to close up'' you announce and she joins you as the two of you walk outside and you locking all the doors.

,,I'm really sorry you came here for no reason'' you apologise, frowning a little as you feel bad. ,,It's fine'' she speaks softly as she takes in your features and notices some hesitation on your face ,,I don't suppose you-'' you begin but quickly stop yourself, fighting the rest of the words back as doubts fill your mind. She tilts her head curiously at your statement, her eyes encouraging you to go on ,,Do go on'' she speaks as her brown eyes pierce through you. ,,Would you like to get some coffee?'' you ask, quickly adding ,,We could talk some more about the book then, have our own little meeting you know?''. As you struggle with your words, covering up for the fact how nervous you are she can't help but smirk ever so slightly, as you avert her eyes. ,,I would love to'' she speaks, taking you by surprise as your shocked eyes meet her own.

As Wilhemina agrees to join you for coffee, you feel a rush of excitement and nerves coursing through you. The thought of spending time with her outside of the library fills you with both anticipation and a hint of anxiety. The two of you make your way over to a nearby cafe, the cool breeze of the evening refreshing against your skin as you walk and chat along the way. Once inside, you find a cozy corner and settle in, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air.

As you begin sipping your drinks, you find the words flowing naturally between you and the redhead. ,,So what did you think of the last book club meeting?'' you ask, trying to gauge her thoughts.

Wilhemina takes a thoughtful sip of her coffee before responding ,,It was interesting, to say the least. I always find it fascinating to hear different interpretations of the same story, you know?''. You agree nodding, ,,It's amazing how people can read the same book and come away with completely different perspectives'' you remark.

She smiles then, her eyes sparkling with intrigue ,,Exactly, that what makes literature so captivating, don't you think?''. You agree again ,,Definitely'' you reply, feeling a sense of excitement building between you two.

,,Although I couldn't help but sense your annoyance towards Karen'' you chuckle before her eyebrow shoots up in surprise. ,,Ugh don't even get me started'' she remarks, causing you to chuckle further.

,,So, what are you currently reading?" you ask curiously, before she leans back in her chair, a small smile playing on her lips. ,,I'm delving into some classic literature at the moment, as well as the second part of the book you got me, It's always been a passion of mine'' she explains as you listen intently to her every word.

,,That sounds fascinating'' you comment, genuinely interested. ,,I have always wanted to read more classics, but I never seem to find the time'' you admit. ,,Well if you ever need any recommendations, you know where to find me'' she says with a wink, and you can't help but chuckle at her playful tone.

,,So tell me a little bit more about yourself Y/N'' she ushers and you could tell she seemed much less tense, much less formal and taken back the way she usually was at the library.

,,I- well I study at university at the moment, close to finishing my degree and I work at the library part time, I live close-by actually'' you explain, a little unsure what she actually wanted to know.

The conversation continues to flow effortlessly, as you fill her in on what you are studying, your age, the things that you enjoy. She tells you about the company she works for, that she also lives close-by. With each passing moment, you find yourself drawn deeper into Wilhemina's world, feeling a connection growing between you that you can't quite explain yet.

Despite knowing you shouldn't, you can't help yourself and so the words quite literally blurt out of you ,,So what about you, are you in a relationship, married?''. Her eyes widen before she chuckles lowly ,,Me married?'' she scoffs then ,,Definitely not, dear'' and you can't help the blushing of your cheeks or ignoring the smirk playing on her features. ,,You?'' she asks curiously before you shake your head, feeling almost a little shy.

After some more conversation about your lives, the library and literature, the two of you part ways, both needing to head home for the night as you realised it was getting late. ,,It's been lovely'' you remark, causing the redhead to nod in agreement. ,,I feel the same way, We should do this again sometime'' she remarks, causing you to again blush under her gaze. ,,I would like that'' and with those words the two of you part ways.

On your way home, you can't help the big smile lingering across your face and spreading across your features. You feel yourself considerably drawn closer to the redhead woman, especially after learning more about her, your first instincts correct about her as she was utterly smart, even poetic at times and lovely to spend your time with. The fact that she wasn't taken only adds to your excitement, despite you not being able to ignore the almost self loathing way she answered your question and you quickly brush the thought away, assuming she couldn't see you in that way, despite the butterflies in each others stomach telling the opposite, but you totally unaware that she shared the same interest and feelings yet.

Within the next few months, the seasons slowly changing, both you and Wilhemina had grown closer, not only making the weekly book club meetings a thing but evenly your usual book chatter over coffee, weekly when your schedules allowed it. And you enjoyed it, feeling like becoming her friend, despite not being able to ignore the way your heart both beat and ached for her. You felt yourself drawn close to her, often awake at night wondering what it would feel like to hold her hand in your own, what it would feel like to be held in her arms, what it would feel like to capture her lips into your own. What it would be like to belong to her, to be hers but you knew it couldn't happen, your hopeless romantic side truly showing and the fact you had read too many romantic novels lately. You were unaware that the redhead felt equally drawn to you, a small voice in the back of her mind telling her that she shouldn't, that you are too young, too free to commit yourself to her and the burdens she carried with her.

Despite the love you felt for each other, neither of you felt like voicing it, or making a move and so it became the quiet love. Glances exchanged, her eyes meeting yours when you are working and stocking shelves with books, her eyes following as you balance on your tip toes with such ease to complete your task. Knowing glances at the book club meetings, knowing afterwards for your coffee date, you would make fun of Karen. And it remained a quiet love, sharing glances, falling into easy conversation, feeling complete when the other one was nearby. The only time when you grew hopeful had been a few days ago, when the rain was pouring down on you both after her usual afternoon at the library and you locking up, how she offered to drive you home, not wanting you to get caught in more rain and having to take public transport and you agreed reluctantly but she insisted, she drove past her house, pointing out that she did indeed live closely before dropping you off. But that was it, and despite you considering inviting her to your apartment, you felt like you couldn't, still thinking you had been reading this wrong and slowly accepting having her as a friend, a person to look out for and would equally look out for you.

However, when almost another week passed, not seeing Wilhemina at the book club meeting or her usual afternoon at the library, you grew increasingly worried. She never missed one of those, only having to miss the book club meeting once before for a work commitment and she let you know beforehand. And as you pack up tonight, you couldn't shake the anxious feeling in your bones and running through your veins. The rational side of your brain was telling you that she was probably caught up with work, given her career, or she simply didn't feel like it today. However your heart told you something was off, texting her in the afternoon after you had exchanged numbers a few months ago and frequently texting back and forth about books and other things.

Opting to walk home tonight to clear your thoughts, letting the sun slowly setting, illuminate your features, breathing in the fresh but cold air, your thoughts trail around her. What if she had given up on the book club and library? What if something was wrong with her? What if she needed something? You couldn't shake the thoughts as your brain kept circling around the same questions and when you turn into a now familiar street, you pass her house, internally scolding yourself as your heart probably led you there on purpose. And you know you shouldn't, despite feeling much closer to her than at the start, it felt wrong to simply show up unannounced, maybe she even had company. But you couldn't just walk past the house and so you carefully approach her front door, making sure you got the right house but by the name on the doorbell printed in purple it quickly confirms that it was in fact her house.

Carefully you knock on the door, waiting for a few moments but not hearing an answer and so you turn on your heel, figuring she must simply be busy or still at work. However just before you are out of reach, you hear the front door open and turn around quickly only to see her standing there, your eyebrows knitting in concern as you see her state. Her nose was red, eyes tired and even a little watery and for a moment you fear she had been crying before her voice breaks through the quiet air ,,Y/N?'' she asks, the sound of her voice broken and you could tell then that she had fallen ill. ,,I'm so sorry Wilhemina for just showing up like this but-'' you stop yourself then, trying to put your words in order and not embarrass yourself. ,,I was worried not seeing you yesterday or today and I just felt the urge to check on you'' you explain, checking her features but they remain neutral. ,,I'm sorry if I'm overstepping'' you quickly apologise before she gives you a comforting smile.

,,You're fine Y/N, I'm sorry I-'' she begins to speak but another wave of nausea and the lingering fever knocks the words from her lungs. ,,Are you okay?'' you ask, concerned etched on your features ,,You don't look so well'' you remark, taking a step closer as her expression grows a little paler. She simply opens the door, offering you to follow her before she is quick to walk back over to her sofa, several empty tissue packets on the floor, before she slumps back into the sofa, the exhaustion creeping up on her. ,,I seem to have fallen ill'' she remarks, scrunching up at the statement, as she hated admitting weakness, despite you not seeing it as weakness at all. As you glance around her house, you can't help but notice how both comfortable, clean and beautiful it was, several houseplants, a luxurious spacious kitchen, a lot of purple and lilac details and artwork and you are sure to have seen some cat toys lying around as you stepped inside.

,,May I?'' you ask carefully as you step closer and she simply nods and watches as the back of your hand reaches for her forehead, gasping as you notice the lingering fever. ,,Do you have a thermometer somewhere?'' you ask carefully and she nods, before pointing towards a cupboard. Without any words, you make your way over, seeing the many pain medications and ignoring that before retrieving the thermometer. It feels like an eternity as you gently usher her to open her mouth and she reluctantly complies, feeling too exhausted to argue as she usually wouldn't allow anyone to do any of this ever. Once the beeping rings through the room, it confirms your suspicions and you glance at her as her eyes softly close, sleep washing over her. ,,I'll be right back'' you whisper softly, before walking back into her hallway, reaching for the set of spare keys dangling on a nearby wall. You aren't sure if you are overstepping still but you didn't care, her health and wellbeing more important to you than any of that right now.

And it doesn't take long before you usher home for a moment, getting some supplies before stopping at a nearby pharmacy and your usual take out place. You return a little while later, placing the keys back where you had gotten them before placing the medication gently on the table where she was still sleeping. In a swift motion and without going through her stuff, you tidy up a little, getting rid of the tissues everywhere, doing some dishes that she must have not had the strength to clean, before you watch a little black cat approach, rubbing it self near the wall leading into the kitchen. ,,Hi there'' you smile as you bend down carefully and hold out your hand. He melts right into your touch as you stroke him carefully, noticing his bowls and searching for some food and water and filling it, before emptying the litter box nearby.

When Wilhemina awakens next, she watches you from afar, praising the thing closest to her heart for finishing his food, even playing a little and her heart melts at the picture. ,,Y/N'' she calls out, glancing around the room and you are quick to walk over to her as she attempts sitting up. ,,Hi there'' you greet her warmly before passing her a glass with water and some medication. ,,Here'' you offer and her brown glassy eyes look up to meet your own. She takes it before glancing around her living room and kitchen, noticing how it was spotless, her heart melting at the gesture, despite feeling like it's a little too much considering she didn't know how to accept the help, let alone ever thank you for it. And you can see it in her brown eyes, knowing her long enough now to know she felt uncomfortable ,,I picked up some soup for you, you can take these every 4 hours'' you announce gently before reaching for your bag. You smile warmly at her and she gives you a thankful smile before you walk out of the room, offering that she could call if she needed anything at all. ,,Bye little fellow'' you give her cat one last stroke before walking out her door, content with at least having checked in and looked after her.

The next few days you continue going on about your days, both working at the library and on your days off working on some assignments and going to your lectures. It had worried you that Wilhemina hadn't reached out to you yet, hoping she was feeling better and at the same time worried you may have overstepped or upset her in some way. You find yourself, both daydreaming and lost in thoughts as you stock up some shelves, thinking about a book in particular that you held and how she would probably love it. A sound startles you and as you turn around you knew your mind wasn't playing tricks on you as you were sure you heard the echoing of her cane. ,,Wilhemina'' you remark, your features instantly filled with joy as you see her looking much better than a few days ago. ,,Are you feeling better?'' you ask as her eyes meet your own. ,,I do, thank you'' she smiles warmly at you before noticing something lingering behind her brown eyes, her lips twitching a little, knowing it meant there was something on her mind.

,,Is everything okay?'' you ask after a moment of silence, noticing her hesitation and the grip around her cane tightening. ,,Why did you-'' she stops herself then, her eyes closing unsure how to finish her question. ,,I'm sorry if I overstepped, I just wanted to make sure you are alright'' you apologise again. There is a moment of silence before she speaks again ,,But why did you?'' and it breaks your heart a little, knowing just what she was thinking, how no one ever probably has looked after her and all you want to do is give her the biggest hug. ,,Because I care about you Wilhemina'' you admit, the admission coming out quiet, almost whispered as you meet her eyes. And then you see the surprise in her eyes, as if your actions didn't make it obvious, as if she was oblivious to your feelings and the way you look at her.

Wilhemina's eyes widen in surprise at your words, as if she hadn't expected such a heartfelt confession. For a moment, the air around you feels heavy with tension as she processes your admission.

,,You care about me?'' she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes searching yours for any hint of insincerity. You nod at her statement, feeling your heart pounding in your chest ,,Yes I do, I- I've grown to care about you a lot'' you admit, despite the voice in the back of your head telling you to stop.

A mix of emotions flicker across her face – surprise, disbelief, and perhaps a hint of vulnerability. You can see her struggling to find the right words, her fingers tightening around her cane again. ,,I don't know what to say'' she finally admits, causing for a lump to form in your throat. ,,It's okay'' you reassure, avoiding her gaze as you glance at the front and noticing a little line forming by where you are meant to be sitting. She glances behind her as you apologetically nod at her and quick to resume your work. Her eyes don't leave yours for a second, feeling awful for the way the conversation went and not being able to tell you that she was truly grateful for what you had done for her. But she couldn't stay as it wasn't her usual afternoon and she had to catch up on some work, and so with a heavy heart she leaves, glancing at you one more time while you check out some customers, pretending not to see her as she glances at you one more time, sure you would cry if you took another look at her in this moment.

On her way out, her words and your reaction replay in her mind over and over again, contemplating whether to turn on her heels, apologise, anything to make this better. But she couldn't as she had to go back to work, despite the thoughts lingering on her mind until the next day. Wilhemina wasn't sure what to think of your statement, she truly didn't mind you coming to her house, appreciating the gesture and the cleaning up you did as well as looking after her cat as the sickness caused her to lose the ability to do so. But she wonders what this was, were you simply friends? Wilhemina never really having friends in her adult life before as she prefered to spend her time with herself and her cat. Or was it more? the woman definitely wasn't oblivious and not a stranger to love and romance and she knew what your admission meant, in her heart anyway, despite her head and rational side reminding her you couldn't have possibly meant it that way but she felt horrible, wanting to talk this out with you as the thought of losing to have you around truly killed her and caused for anxiety to fill her usual calm and composed mind.

As she makes her way to the library, her eyes search around the quiet space, members of the book club already meeting and finding your coworker Janice rather than your usual presence. Despite a part of her not really wanting to do this, she approaches the older woman, remembering her well from some book club meetings and around the library. ,,Hi there'' Janice greets her, remembering the redhead quite well and you sometimes mentioning the woman to her. ,,Hello'' Wilhemina greets her, her features a little tense before she speaks quietly, wanting to make sure the other people don't hear ,,Is Y/N not working today?'' she asks causing the older woman to shake her head no. ,,Poor darling called in sick today'' she admits, before Wilhemina's features tense a little further. ,,I see, thank you'' she remarks before turning on her heels and getting ready to leave. ,,Aren't you staying?'' Janice asks a little confused, knowing the redhead to be a regular member of the meetings by now. ,,No- I uh.. have some other commitment'' she remarks before leaving, her cane echoing through the silent library.

Now you weren't truly sick, just not feeling like going to work today, considering the countless assignments piling up on you and feeling the strange urge to avoid Wilhemina. After yesterday, your heart had broken a little, feeling shame even at hearing her words, unaware that she simply struggled with these things. Your brain had somehow tricked you to believe that she didn't care for you in the way that you cared for her and that you had made an utter fool of yourself and so you opted for staying home, not being in the mood to go through the torture of a whole book club meeting on top of it all. Sitting on your sofa, cross legged, laptop tugged into your lap, you type away, working on an essay that was due next. You are startled when you hear the sound of a knock coming from your apartment door, assuming it's a neighbour, before opening the door.

As your eyes lay on Wilhemina you gulp, expecting a few things but not her showing up and confused as to how she would have gotten upstairs, unaware that a neighbour was just leaving and she slipped inside. ,,Wilhemina?'' you ask a little confused, your cheeks coated in red considering the state you are in, messy bun, sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It takes her a moment to recognise you as she really hadn't seen you like this before, usually always dressed well and hair styled perfectly. ,,I heard you aren't feeling well'' she remarks, before holding out a lilac shopping bag and passing it to you. ,,Thank you'' you smile warmly at her, the bag exposing some type of food in a container and a book and your heart melts at the gesture, unable to form any words.

,,Would you like to come inside?'' you offer before she declines politely ,,I'll leave you rest but let me know if you need anything?'' she asks before you nod eagerly, thanking her one more time before you watch her walk away. As you close the door, you lean against it for a moment, letting out a breath that you held in for a while, feeling relief that she didn't actually come inside as your place was a right mess. Carefully, you walk over to your sofa, putting the container and book on your sofa table, before taking a look, exposing the same soup that you had gotten for her before, feeling your heart ache and beat faster at the sweet gesture. Retreating some headphones, you listen to some music, while finishing your essay, finishing the soup in the meantime. After several hours, you take a look at the book and you had never heard of it, remembering the author from your work at the library but never reading his works before.

As you open the book, you check the first page for a library stamp but there is none, meaning she must have either purchased it or it belonged to her. ,,For Y/N- Love, Wilhemina'' it reads and your heart melts again at the sweet gesture. For the remainder of the night you get lost in the book, a book about two characters, one more mysterious as the other one, captivated by the similarities and the poetry. As you read countless pages, the darkness of the night already consuming the world around you, your heart begins beating a little faster as you begin understanding the true meaning of the story, and how the main character had been afraid to commit, afraid to allow the other ones feelings despite feeling the same way and it startled you. Quite literally shaking you awake as your eyes fly over the written words, wondering whether this was her way of telling you, despite the rational side of your brain still trying to convince you that this had been some kind of accident.

For the remainder of the night, you lay awake after finishing the book, some words lingering and repeating on your mind, your thoughts trailing back and forth to Wilhemina, wanting nothing more than to talk to her, thank her for the book and ask her about it's true meaning but you couldn't as it was the middle of the night. And so you try to find some sleep, despite it being broken, before the morning sun washes over your apartment, causing you to wake, your thoughts instantly lingering around the redhead. That morning, you are very early at the library, opening up hours before it would even open, unable to do anything else at home as your thoughts kept circling and you wanted to desperately distract yourself.

A few hours pass, where you lose yourself in your passion, unboxing a few new shipments with books and neatly placing them in the shelves, also working on a new display shelves with some monthly book recommendations. You are startled when you hear one of the doors opening before politely shouting ,,Sorry still closed, we open in about thirty minutes'' while bending down. However as you hear the all too familiar cane taps and heels echoing, you are quickly on your feet, glancing around the corner and noticing Wilhemina's presence, her features soft as she makes her way over. ,,Closed? even for me?'' she chuckles a little, causing you to blush. ,,Definitely not'' you remark before walking over, now a few steps apart from the redhead.

,,Would you like some coffee or tea?'' you ask politely before she finds herself smiling again ,,Coffee please'' she requests and you nod, offering her to sit before you retreat to the back room and making some coffee for the two of you. A few moments pass before you make your way over, by now knowing how she takes her coffee and passing her the warm mug. ,,I take it you are feeling better?'' she questions and you nod before speaking ,,Thank you so much for the soup and- the book'' the last two words more quiet as they fall from your lips. As the steam from the coffee forms little patterns in the air, she studies your features before carefully speaking ,,Did you get a chance to-'' but you are quick to cut her off ,,I read it'' you reassure before her eyes meet yours ,,The whole thing?'' she questions, a little taken back as you nod.

Silence fills the quiet library, not necessarily an unpleasant one, the two of you simply lost in thoughts, eyes still locked onto each other. ,,What made you choose that one?'' you ask curiously, your hand reaching around the mug soaking in the warmth it provides. ,,I like the message'' she admits, still keeping your gaze. ,,Want to tell me about your interpretation?'' you ask, almost causing her to smirk a little as the two of you often studied books and their true meanings together. ,,What was yours?'' she asks, wanting to make sure you got the silent message and her confession. ,,I think it's about two characters that fall in love, a silent love though, one where one is utterly in love with the other but the other one struggles to admit their feelings, preferring a love in silence while the other one wants to shout it from the rooftops'' you explain, losing yourself in the meanings of the words a little.

Her eyes close then, understanding and relieved that you got the message and as your eyes meet again you speak again, your words hushed and quiet ,,Is that why you gave it to me?'' you question ,,Because you care about me too?''. As the words flow from your mouth, your hands begin shaking, unsure where this sudden boost of confidence came from but your brain ultimately telling you that this wasn't a coincidence anymore. ,,I do Y/N'' she finally admits, her eyes sparkling a little as you notice her posture much less tense than before, her features almost seeming relieved at the admission of her feelings. ,,I never thought you would like me too'' you admit, almost in that same self loathing way she had once spoken about herself. ,,Hey'' she tries softly, before reaching for your hand and holding it in place. ,,Of course I do'' she reassures, tilting her head to the side a little.

Your silence and peace is interrupted when a few people enter the library, causing you both to pull away, before you stand up, walking over to some people standing by your desk wanting to return some books. Wilhemina watches in quiet awe and adoration at your movements, your politeness and she feels her heart fluttering in her chest. As people leave again, slowly more people walking inside, she walks back over to you, hovering beside you before you glance up at her ,,What's going to happen now then?'' you ask curiously, your cheeks coated in a slight red shade. ,,How about we start with dinner tonight, little one?'' she offers, causing you to blush at her statement even more. ,,I would love that'' you admit before your attention is needed working again. And for the remainder of the day, Wilhemina chooses to stay in your company, stealing glances at you as you go about your tasks with practiced ease. The excitement for the evening ahead lingering on your features whenever you lay eyes upon each other.

[ecstarry]

"the one with the breakup" - James' letter, this is for him, not all endings must be sad, there is something just as beautiful in love changing

Dear Regulus,

I think we will be okay. I had been too afraid, I still wonder of what exactly, but the closest thing to an answer I can come up with is me. Because you bring so much light to my life, and I kept getting told that I’m the one who shines but for so long I could not see it, not if you were not looking at me. But now, I can finally feel my own warmth.

I didn’t know who I was without your name attached to mine, I still don’t, but fear should not be what is holding us together. We deserve everything, love, oh god, we truly deserve everything. For so long we thought that growing up together also meant growing old together, we were desperately clawing our nails into each other, afraid that if we let go the mark that was left, just as our story, would eventually fade. But one thing I know, is my heart will never not know your name, it will be embroidered with a thread of your favorite color. 

My love for you will persist, and I know yours for me too, but we can’t help it, can we? That for as much as we want to need each other, we no longer do. But that’s okay, we are okay. We can love each other this way, we will learn how to. 

We have so much life ahead of us, so much love to left to give still, and I just know we will find someone who gives each of us what we no longer can. I can give you tenderness, I can give you my love, but I can no longer give you desire and neither can you. 

Thank you, baby. Your love healed every little broken piece I had when we met, and I can only hope I had half the significance you had on me. Because you saw me, and I know it isn’t supposed to happen this way, but you did love me enough for me to start loving myself. I am no longer afraid of myself.

Here I am then, reminding you that we did nothing wrong, sometimes friends turn into lovers and then, to friends again and that’s just as beautiful. We will always have each other, and one day, it will stop hurting this much, we just need to be patient love, but we will be okay. I know that.

I love you forever,

James

[krems-chair]

Long written drabble incoming

A completed collection of letters I imagine an increasingly exhausted inquisitor would write to Solas through the years leading up to Veilguard. At first, she just wants to hold him again. Eventually, she might want to fire a few arrows at him first. I posted the first of these letters last week, but finally found the time to get them all out :)

Third part of some little blurbs I've been writing to satisfy myself and fill in some gaps, and crossposted here!

Found In a Carefully Organized Drawer in the Lifehouse, in Varying States of Crumpled/Smoothed Out at the Corners. 

Solas,

Is that still what I’m supposed to call you? The reports we’re getting show startling numbers. More elves disappear in the dead of the night to pledge themselves to the Dread Wolf’s cause than we can keep track of. I hope that if they find you, they cannot tell that their beacon, the hope to which they cling with enough desperation to leave all they have ever known, sees them as a mistake to be remedied. 

More than that, I admit, I hope that you have stopped believing it. If…

*The writing peters off here, followed by a new color that looks only a little newer than its preceding one.*

If you meant what you said, if what we had was real, then I must ask you to look at every elf that shares my hair color, the atrocious snort that follows a laugh I was not expecting, or my passion to learn from you, and see that you cannot find me real without finding them real. The Dalish have not always been kind to you, and you did not get a fair chance to meet elves from the city while the world withered around us. But in these few years of relative peace you have fought to give us, could it hurt to take the time to learn the hearts of those who would follow you without even being asked?

In my own greedy way, I would love to let you think the only rare and marvelous spirit to be found is mine. But to pretend it's a universal truth instead of the result of a missed opportunity to get to know this new world you awoke to is a luxury I cannot afford. I confess, however, that I would not mind if mine remains a spirit that is rare by virtue of being wholly and completely yours.

If it cannot be done for my sake, perhaps you could be persuaded to do it for your own. It is a solitary path you have chosen. Even now, I cannot bear the thought of leaves crunching beneath your feet and no one being there to hear you remark on how fall has come earlier this year, how you once met a spirit of curiosity who asked you to gather leaves into a pile so that it might rush in and burst out, disrupting them, only for you to do so over and over again until it was satisfied. I hope you will change your mind, I hope you are not hiding the best parts of yourself from those desperate to know you. Most of all, I pray you are never again alone. 

They’re having trouble finding a satisfactory replacement for my arm. Thom was able to fashion something from his stash of whittling wood, but I’ve had to enlist Dagna. I know the Inquisition is in the process of being dismantled. I loathe that I have asked her to stay when she has her own studies to return to. But if I am ever to convince you to return home, I suppose I must practice what I beg of you and permit others to help me. Worse, I must be brave enough to request that help in the first place. 

I have sat with this letter, left it, and returned several times across the span of weeks, and I still am not sure what name I should grant you. Regardless, it does not change how I must sign off if these words are to be honest ones.

Ar lath ma, *a space remains, as if the Inquisitor meant to write a name and could not*

Rielle

Solas  Fen’Harel,

To my missing companion:

I heard that the Chargers tripped over your agents last month. I hope the fact that I have been searching for two years now with not so much as an imprint in the dirt means that you wanted them to be found. Given that my other letters either never made it to you or went unanswered, I will not do either of us the disservice of assuming this one will bring me closer to reaching you. If it does, however, I must warn you. When I see you again, and despite your best efforts I promise you that it is very much a when, I’ll be terribly jealous of the scrap of paper Krem passed on to Bull with instructions to move a pawn forward. It’s foolish, I know, especially because I still don’t play chess worth a damn, but it is not rationality that commits actions of the heart to history. (Cullen has been trying to teach me when I stop by to visit him and his family, but I’m finding it harder and harder to sit still these days. Perhaps a fear that I’m not making the most of what precious few may remain). 

I try to console myself with the knowledge that a lone wolf haunting my dreams on occasion might be a coincidence. But that same wolf, with all its many mournful eyes, turning away every time I try to address it instead of merely letting quiet footsteps follow mine through whatever landscape my soul sets in place? I am sentimental, but I am not a fool.

I wish you would stay next time. Perhaps this is where I betray the very declaration that I am not foolish, but we both know that making bold declarations followed by absolute shitstorms is something of a specialty of mine. 

I have met my people, our people, at Skyhold. They come bearing news of a better world and faces free of the vallaslin they hoped would bring them closer to their gods. I wonder, do they know they’ve traded one set of gods for another, that while kinder, thinks extinguishing a world in which they might learn what we truly lost and honor it another way is the best path forward?

I cannot go to the library anymore. I’ve found my feet frozen at its threshold more times than I can count. Perhaps when you return, we can spend an afternoon there together, letting the foreign become familiar once more.

I’ve been studying our history, the real history, contained in the notes you left behind. I think you’d be proud watching me stumble through the language, even if it would sound painful at first. 

My current favorite phrase is viran se lan'aan Morrigan tells me it is not so different from asking someone who they are, to identify themselves. 

If I hear nothing as you continue to run in both the daytime and our shared dreams, I think I might like to hear your answer to that question. 

Perhaps you would consider stopping by my balcony to talk it through? No tea will be in sight, I promise. Just me. Just us. 

Ar lath ma,

Rielle

*There is no greeting*

I have begun to fear each time my reserves of herbs dwindle. I can hardly bear the shame that comes from slinking back to my desk and drafting a letter to Vivienne asking her if she knows of anything stronger to mix with my tea before bed. Yes, you’ve read correctly. Tea. At first, it helps take the dreams away. If you deny me the chance to see you, why should I permit you the honor of seeing the faithless Herald of Andraste at her lowest?

And I do mean lowest. When I woke to my knees pressed against cold stone in Haven, petrified that the glares and jeers sent my way would be the last sounds ringing in my ears before the demons Cassandra thrust me in front of took what was left of my waning strength, a hand shot out of nowhere to grab mine. When you lifted the anchor to that first rift, when you greeted me afterwards with that ridiculous half-smile, I no longer felt alone. When we crushed that same city beneath the weight of an avalanche, when I woke again only to discover there were even more looking to me for answers, you pulled me aside and showed me the way home, to Skyhold, I thought…

*The following lines are furiously scratched out several times over, rendering them illegible*

 I won’t bore you with more of the details you’re trying to distance yourself from. The point I’ve been stumbling towards like a drunken halla is that even getting shoved into the past, watching countless die in my name, getting called knife-ear at the Winter Palace by a loose-lipped Countess, nearly becoming spider food in the fade and then nearly falling once more at Corypheus’ hands…you were there. And how silly that must sound to you, alone as you are now and doing quite well if the reports can be trusted. But it mattered to me, you know? To have someone who wasn’t looking to me for a miracle but believed I could pull one off nevertheless. 

I felt like the world was crumbling beneath my feet while we grasped each fractured piece and forced them together but I thought we’d done a pretty good job of fastening at least two of them together. Now, our friends are scattered across the continent, everyone thinks I’m crazy again, and this time there’s not an immediate threat to make them forget that I don’t have a flying fuck of an idea what to do. 

I think sometimes that I hate you. And then I think that perhaps I should be furious because even this all-consuming fury that sends me scrambling away from my dreams so that I do not have to face the scraps of you pales in comparison to a love that pours honey in my ears and sings ridiculously hopeful tunes. They leave me bitter, breathless, transfixed by the allure of a world where I no longer have to ask myself if memory does it justice, or if I’ve finally forgotten the sound of your voice. I stare at the sky every morning and try to remember which shade of dawn I once thought an exact match for your eyes. And then I remind myself that it won’t matter if I’ll be dead soon. 

I need to write Vivienne. At least I might look to the horizon and know some are still out there who will reply. 

Ar lath ma, though perhaps history will mock me for it. 

*The final letter is the shortest, and left unsigned. It is also the most worn*

I am tired, vhenan. 

It was never hard to picture you wearing down the gods, but now I marvel that they had the fortitude to weather your storm as long as they did. You are unwavering, immovable—and my fingertips ache from stretching towards the breadcrumbs you leave behind. 

Everyone knows I am not the same. They smile, they offer support where they can, but I think they miss who I was before the years piled atop each other. 

Varric thinks he’s close, this time. I’ve forgotten what hope feels like in my chest, but the muscle memory that drags me back to this desk far too often has not. 

When I find you, and I will find you—I hope you’re prepared to meet who I’ve become. Maybe, before it all splinters around us one final time, you would let me close enough to press my chest against yours? I’d like to hear what’s left of my heart before it shatters. 

The next time I say this, it will be to your face, so please do us both a favor and give up any foolish notions of slipping from the snare a third time, Dread Wolf. 

Ar lath ma, Solas. You are still not alone. 

And soon, I will not be, either.