#VERSE ;; not a wolf ;; CRACK

[snkts]

"I said what I said."

[full-of-mercy]

' you actually aren't smaller than me. You're taller... but the inches went there ' he's pointing at nicks pants with the biggest shit eating grin he can muster.

"The hell you on about, Spikey? I'm heavier than you-"

And then the words and the gesture connect, and Nicholas stares. Stares. Brows furrow over the rims of his sunglasses, then knit underneath his fringe. He finally looks away, passing his hand over his mouth.

Wiping away a smirk, maybe, a lopsided cant to his lips, even if he cannot dismiss the sudden tinge burnishing his face.

Hand to nape, he chews on nothing. What is he even supposed to say to that?

"-Dammit."

[epitomees]

~ Zenkichi Hasegawa’s Tags ~ 

More will be added as needed. 

[iorast]

// fixing tags pls hold

[eltriador]

tag drop.

「 ooc 」 — ❛ hold on٬ cat aggro. ❜ 「 promo 」 — ❛ somebody to love. ❜ 「 memes 」 — ❛ no me olvidé de ti. ❜ 「 starter call 」 — ❛ all bark. ❜ 「 crack 」 — ❛ no bite. ❜ 「 queue 」 — ❛ add it to the workflow. ❜

「 about 」 — ❛ scars in silver. ❜ 「 meta 」 — ❛ what's left now? ❜

「 images 」 — ❛ you're gonna carry that weight. ❜ 「 music 」 — ❛ howl at the moon. ❜ 「 desires 」 — ❛ the taste of smoke and blood. ❜

「 answers 」 — ❛ it's not always what you want to hear. ❜ 「 speech 」 — ❛ ¿y por una vez podrías dejarme terminar una frase? ❜

「 verse 」 — ❛ main٬ it's a lonely road you've chosen٬ wolf. ❜

「 thirt13n 」 — ❛ so move me٬ baby. shake like the bough of a willow tree. ❜ 「 medicbled 」 — ❛ welcome to my cage٬ little lover. let's go up in flames٬ pretty lady. ❜ 「 mariela 」 — ❛ under a sheet of rain in my heart٬ i dream of home. ❜ 「 pseudowar : moe 」 — ❛ she's a black magic woman٬ she's tryna make a devil out of me. ❜

[hyaciiintho]

boops Link's cheek!!!

Somehow, this feels like a BLESSING, and he is honored by the boop. The holy boop.

"Th-thank you !!" Should he say thank you ?? He doesn't know, but he's GRATEFUL !! ... For some reason.

[sundrop-writes]

Claustrophobia

Isaac Lahey x GN!Reader

Word Count: 800

Teen Wolf Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of the abuse Isaac experienced from his father, mentions of that abuse having a last psychological effect on him (in the form of claustrophobia); Isaac having a panic attack due to his claustrophobia being unexpectedly triggered; this is more of a hurt/comfort fic because the reader helps him calm down. Implications that the reader doesn't know about the existence of werewolves and the supernatural. The reader's gender is not described in any way. Also, I don't know if this is at all sound advice about how to treat someone during a panic attack - not something I am versed in. I think that's it? Not proofread cause I'm on a mental hiatus babey

A/N: I just watched Season 3, Episode 4 (I've been watching two episodes a day and really enjoying the pace of it) and naturally the moment where Isaac gets stuck in the closet called to me like a beacon of whump. So here's this. Also highly recommend pairing this with Claustrophobia by 3OH! 3

...

"Did it have to be a closet?"

Isaac let out a dry chuckle, a seemingly nervous laugh as he eyed up the space apprehensively before stepping inside, putting some of the supplies on one of the shelves.

The two of you began gathering supplies off the cart and loading them into the janitor's closet, carrying out the punishment you had been given. You had been fifteen minutes late to class that morning, and you had heard that Isaac was in detention for fighting - beating up one of the new kids. You knew that since his father died, he had taken on somewhat of a new persona - more bold, more unafraid to get in trouble. But you had a feeling that violence didn't suit him.

It made you wonder what the other guy did to provoke the fight, or what the truth really was. But you felt that it wasn't your place to ask.

"It's not so bad." You remarked, sensing his general anxiety about this activity, but having no clue why.

He seemed fairly confident in every other area of life - he took down guys on the field in lacrosse without even flinching, he walked tall in the halls with confidence (not that you had noticed, not that you stared at him or anything) - it did make you wonder what was so intimidating to him about a closet full of spray bottles and napkins.

"I'm... not so good with small spaces." He remarked quietly, shyly, grabbing some more of the supplies off the cart and stepping inside beside you to begin organzing everything.

Ah. He was claustrophobic. That made sense.

You had heard rumours floating around the school after his father died - you had even heard whispers between Scott and Stiles when they were trying to be subtle in their conversations but had a poor sense of tact. Isaac's father used to lock him in a freezer as punishment, among other things. It was a horror you couldn't imagine.

"You-"

You were about to offer for him to leave, offering to finish up the rest of the work by yourself so that he wouldn't have to be burdened by his anxiety, when the closet door swung shut, slamming closed in a strangely violent manner. Isaac rushed to the door, furiously ripping on the handle, trying to get it open.

"It - it won't open-" He gasped, suddenly sounding terribly out of breath.

He was panicking, likely overtaken by horrible memories that you couldn't even imagine.

"It's okay, it's probably just stuck, I can call someone-" You took your phone out of your pocket, trying to reassure him, but his panicked flailing in the small space, now shouldering against the door, trying to ram it down, knocked your phone out of your hand and cracked the screen.

You didn't know if it was still in working order or not, but you knew it would be wiser to calm him down first.

"Something - something is blocking it from the other side!" He said, his breaths becoming more panicked and frantic as he kept trying to charge the door down - how was he not hurting himself?

He was sweating and shaking, and you ached with sympathy for him.

In Isaac's mind, he was right back there. Locked in darkness, clawing against the tiny, enclosed walls, desperate to get out. He was suffocating, he was running out of air, he was gonna die. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't-

Suddenly, your hand moved against his shoulders, a flat, firm palm rubbing his back, trying to comfort him. The pure gentleness of the touch startled his senses back to reality - there had been nobody to comfort him back then. He collapsed against the door, pressing his forehead into the metal, and deeply against his will, he let out a sob.

"Hey, shh, it's okay." You told him, trying to be as soothing as possible. "You're being so brave-"

"I'm not brave." Isaac choked out. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't apologize." You told him firmly, fighting back your own tears of empathy had how distraught he was. "Come on, sit down. Let's take a minute to calm down and breathe and then we'll find a way out of here."

You helped him onto the floor - he practically collapsed into a sitting position against one of the shelves, his entire body shuddering and shaking. Though he wasn't the most naturally affectionate person in the world, he didn't deny your touches when you cradled his head onto your shoulder and continued to soothingly rub his back.

After a few minutes of silence, save for his whimpers as his tears died down, he spoke up.

"I'm sorry," He apologized again. "I just - my dad..." He trailed off, barely able to voice it.

"It's okay," You told him, and for once in his life - he actually felt okay, here with you, in your arms. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Thank you." He sighed.

When Scott came and got the two of you out of the closet (after Isaac had apologized a dozen more times for cracking your phone screen) - he could sense something in the way Isaac looked at you now, but he didn't say anything about it. Not yet.

[snkts]

Logan loves his students and teammates, and that is exactly why he's not above bribing them to eat his horrid hot sauce crimes.

[full-of-mercy]

what is attractive about you ?

"...Huh."

Nicholas smirks, shrugs, then unfastens another shirt button. It is a bit warm.

[snkts]

"..."

Looks at his glass.

"Never tried it with moonshine before..."

"Eughhh... I'd rather go back to Morph's bathtub 'shine..."

[veltana]

Buy my heart - 1

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~1,2k

✦ Rating for this part: Mature

✦ Warnings/tags: Alpha!Bucky, Omega!Reader, slow burn, eventual smut, omega auction.

✦ Summary: Bucky buys you

✦ Note: Due note that this is a drabble series, the parts will be short but I still hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to come back and read Lloyd's series, set in the same verse! 😉 Bucky's scent is based of my favorite perfume of all time ÆTHER XTRÆM 🤤Reblogs, comments and asks are much appreciated!

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

Everything is numb. As you stand on the podium in front of the faceless crowd with the lights in your eyes, you don't feel a thing, except the uncomfortable sensation of scent blocker on your skin. As soon as you pulled the thin dress on for the auction you decided that the only way you would survive this is if you just turn every emotion off.

Paddles go up. Paddles go down. The man beside you rambles fast but you don't listen. It's not irrelevant how much you sell for, since your family needs it to pay off their debt, but you can't take it in.

Instead, you focus on your breathing. The mask-covered mass in front of you is grass on a meadow on a windy day. Breathe in. They sway towards you. Breathe out. They sway away.

You don't want to look at who raises their paddle the most, and even if you did, you wouldn't be able to identify them since everyone's face is concealed by the same black mask. But you'd find yourself scrutinizing their hands and build, trying to guess if they're old or young. Honestly, you dread both: a young pup with an overly cocky attitude who knows nothing about caring for an omega, or an old lone wolf who is too frail to do anything himself and would require constant care.

The sharp crack of the club startles you from your self-induced meditation. That's when you finally hear the sum you've been sold for and some of the tension in your shoulders drains away. It's enough. Your family will be fine.

An attendant leads you away through dark corridors before leaving you in another changing room. They've brought your old clothes but you don't touch them. They smell like home. Like your family. And you can't go into this new life with it, you have to leave it behind.

If the attendant is confused about you still wearing the sheer dress they provided when they come and collect you, they don't let it show before walking you out.

The air is cold against your skin but there is a car idling just outside. Well, it's a limo. The driver opens the door and gestures for you to climb inside. Guess this is your ride. Time to meet your alpha.

Pressing down every feeling of panic and dread you walk on bare feet the short distance. The door shutting just behind you makes you jump. A moment later, the car starts moving.

The first thing you notice is that it's dim in the back of the limousine since the tinted windows don't let the streetlights in. The only illumination comes from small spots in the ceiling.

The second thing you notice is him. He's at the other end of the seat. Maskless with a glass of something in his hand that he swirls before taking a sip, staring at you over the rim. He's tall, broad-shouldered, short hair that looks soft with a neatly trimmed beard framing his face.

Then the smell hits you. It's easy to filter out the artificial notes of his cologne from what is his pure natural smell. It's a woody musky scent with a light tone of florals buried beneath that is not sharp or strong. It just fills your lungs with a warm, sensual feeling. For the first time in your life, you think you understand what other omegas rave about when they say that the smell of alpha is unlike anything else. The omega in you wants to slide up to him and rub yourself all over him, but you resist.

“Hello, little darling,” his rich voice fills the compartment. “Hello, sir,” you respond and is pleased when your voice doesn't waiver. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes. I prefer if you call me Bucky.” “Bucky,” you try, and nod, although it feels odd on your tongue. You've never addressed an alpha by a nickname before.

He doesn't ask for your name and you don't offer it, the less personal this is for you, the better. Bucky might have bought your body but your mind is still your own and he can never take it away from you. If he never calls you by your name, the better.

“Why do you still have that dress on?” he asks. You pluck at the fabric. “I couldn't take my old clothes with me.” “And no shoes?” “No, sir. I mean, Bucky.”

He picks up his phone. You hear the dial tone and then a woman's voice answers at the other end. “We need clothes, all types, but for tonight just get some underwear and something to sleep in. Then he directs his attention to you. “What size are you?” After hesitating a second, you tell him and he passes the information along before he hangs up.

The car slows and sounds as if it's driving on gravel. Bucky finishes his drink and studies you. There is a tick in his jaw as if he's irritated. Without a word, he starts taking off his suit jacket.

The blood in your veins turns cold and you press yourself back against the door. You don't want him to touch you. The dress might be sheer but the thought of being naked with him in the back of the limo is not appealing in the least.

But his actions surprise you. He holds out the jacket for you. “Wear this. My men are loyal but I don't need them to ogle you and get distracted.” There is no hiding the way your fingers tremble as you take it from him. After putting it on you realize that in a way, he's marked you with his scent now, but without touching you. It shouldn't make you pleased, but it does.

When the car comes to a stop you reach for the handle but with something very close to a growl he instructs, “Wait there,” before stepping out. You pull your hand back quickly and place it in your lap. Moments later the door opens. “Since you don't have any shoes, I'll carry you,” he explains, reaching for you, but you shuffle away. “I'll be fine, I promise, you don't need to do that.” His jaw ticks again. “No, you will hurt your feet, darling. Come here, now.” You hesitate still, but you're not prepared to find out what the next tell of irritation might be, or if the twitch in his jaw is the only warning you're going to get.

You move closer to him and hardly have time to process what happens before you're in his arms. He carries you near his body with your face pressed against his fine dress shirt. It's dark outside but the mansion he carries you towards is well lit. There is no doubt James Buchanan Barnes is a very rich man.

After stepping inside he still doesn't put you down. You want to object but decide against it as he carries you up a flight of stairs and into a room, where he puts you down on a soft carpet, then steps back.

“Clothes should be here in about twenty minutes. When was the last time you ate?” “Uhm, this morning?” “Allergies?” “No, but I really don’t like tomatoes.” “I'll inform the chef,” he nods, before continuing, “This is your room. Mine is across the hall. For tonight, stay here, I'll have food brought up. Tomorrow I’ll give you a tour and we'll talk about what is expected of you going forward.” You nod. “I suggest you take a nice long bath, before eating and going to bed.” “Yes, Bucky.” Your obedience seems to please him because the lines between his eyebrows disappear. “Have a good night, little darling.” And then he leaves.

next

[sammakesart]

In Which the Dread Wolf Is Saved By, of All Things, Love.

The blade slices into his palm, blood seeping from the wound and soaking into the leather of his glove. A thought emerges as she watches him: It is the same hand that once held the mark on her own palm. He squeezes his fist, the blood dripping down onto the stone. 

“My life force now sustains the Veil.”

His eyes find hers, a brief moment as their gazes meet and hold. An eternity, over too soon. 

“With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”

Her gaze falls to his fist, and her heart aches. It is done.

“The Titan’s dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight, but I can help soothe its anger.”

She watches as he looks down to the dagger, then extends it to Rook.

“I will go,” he says. His eyes meet hers once more as he speaks his last words. To her. For her. “And seek atonement.”

He tears his gaze away, and she watches as he turns, his steps sure and steady as he walks toward the tear in the sky.

They are running out of time.

It is then she makes her decision, though it was no decision at all. She knew—she has always known—what she would do given this choice. 

“But you do not have to go alone.”

He had stopped before she spoke, perhaps hearing the fall of her steps, perhaps in the hope of one final goodbye. He turns as she finishes her declaration, his lips parted in surprise, but he clasps her hands as she stretches them towards him. His grip trembles ever so slightly. She notices the shine in his eyes as tears well, but he does not deny her. He only offers her a warning. It is the only thing he can offer her. 

“Where I am going is terrible.”

She smiles, shakes her shake. 

“It won’t be terrible if you’re with me. We make this journey together. Always.”

The words are reminiscent of the last verse of Dalish wedding vows. She wonders if he catches the significance, but by the way his grip tightens, she suspects he understands. 

She leans in, but then stops, waiting for him to close the last stretch of space between them. His lips meet hers without hesitation, cracked and bloody as they are. She doesn’t care. He tastes of iron and ash, and yet still of him. 

His mouth moves against hers, and she wishes to wrap her arms around him, to pull him close, but she fears causing him any further pain. She has seen the wounds on his face, saw him clutching at his right side as he ascended the steps before she crossed the threshold. She can only imagine the wounds hidden beneath his battered armor. She had glimpsed the state of his dread wolf as it tore the throat out of Elgar’nan’s archdemon. 

There will be time for such things later, after he has rested and healed. Time will never be something they are in want of now.

***

He savors her for as long as he dares, then presses his lips firmly against hers before pulling away. His mouth curves into a soft smile. Just for her. 

There is no force—divine or otherwise—that can part him from her now. Not unless she wishes it.

He holds her gaze for one more moment, the burn of tears still threatening to spill sting his eyes. But he blinks them away quickly, and glances back at Rook. 

“Thank you, Rook.”

Then his eyes fall back to her. He cannot get enough. 

He is not unaware that Rook had to have had a part to play in this once-thought impossible reunion. 

There will never be words or action enough to show his gratitude, especially to someone he has so gravely wronged. And yet, they still have orchestrated the return of his heart to him. A gift he knows he does not deserve, but he will endeavor to earn. 

He squeezes her hands once more—one flesh, one formed—and turns, walking towards the last remaining tear in the Veil. He crosses his hands before him to keep from reaching out, reaching back to hold her to him. She must make this choice freely. 

He doesn’t even dare look, afraid if he does, he will find no one and nothing. That these last few minutes have all been a dream conjured by his addled mind and his bone-deep exhaustion—for what else could it be but a dream? That, after all this time, after everything he’s done, she would seek him out once more. That she would forgive him. Love him still. Choose to be with him, despite where he must go. 

There is a moment where he fears she has changed her mind, or he was correct in his first assumption that she was never here at all. His chest tightens… and then releases as he feels her hand rest upon his shoulder. She is here. She is real. 

With the last ounce of strength he has, he wraps them in his magic and spirits them into the Fade, leaving her world behind. Perhaps for good. 

He took away her ability to choose once, many years ago, when she first asked to join him while standing in the Crossroads. It had torn him in two to deny her, but he knew then that he could not allow her to follow the path he had to tread. Could not allow it to twist her hope into despair, like his own purpose had been twisted long ago. 

For so long, his life has only been duty and destruction. He is unsure of how to be anything else.

When he finds himself once again in the prison of his own making, his knees give out from under him. The weight of the last few hours, few weeks, few years, dragging him to the hard unforgiving stone of his regrets. But this time, he is not alone. 

She kneels before him, carefully cradling his face in her palm, her skin so warm against his. “Vhenan,” she whispers as her thumb strokes lightly over his cheek, and it takes him a moment to realize he is crying, truly crying. The tears that had threatened to fall when he first took her hands in his have now been set free. He crumples into her lap, his forehead pressed the against her stomach as she gently strokes his head and down his back, offering words of comfort, her voice thick with her own tears. She has saved him. He has doomed her. 

The weight of that realization is enough to crush him to dust. He pulls back, eyes searching hers. His hands shake as he reaches up to hold her face. Perhaps there is still time…

“These are my burdens to bare,” he rasps. “I cannot ask you to carry them with me.” 

“You do not have to, vhenan.” She holds his hand to her cheek. “I chose this. Freely. Just as I chose you.”

She presses a kiss to the heel of his hand, the one still wet with his blood. “Being with you is no burden, Solas, not to me. It is a joy.”

Their foreheads meet, pressed together as they once again take each other’s hands.

She is here. She is real. He still cannot believe it.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

Then he says the words she had gifted him, a vow he will hold sacred for as long as they both shall live. 

“Vir shiral malasa. Bellanaris.”

[satoruxx]

congrats on 200 followers!!

im thinking of hsr blade + reader who keeps throwing him corny science-y pickup lines :3

examples:

"if i had to choose between DNA and RNA, i'd choose RNA because it has U in it"

"are you an arrhythmia? because you just made my heart skip a beat"

"are you rheumatoid arthritis? because you make me feel weak in the knees"

(inspired by @/nathan_fang_'s science rizz on ig, theyre absolute gold)

pairing: blade x reader | 1.3k+ words summary: all fluff and crack, just a teensy tiny bit suggestive at the end but it's harmless, blade is TIRED, classic sunshine x grump trope bc we all secretly love it hehe a/n: AHHHH hello anon! this was so much fun to write omg !! blade is such a grump i love him. i don't know if i did him justice though lol. i really wanna pull for him but i spent all my savings on luocha sobs. anyways thank you thank you for your support and i hope you enjoy this <33

blade didn't mind working in pairs. normally, he worked well with the teammates he had. following kafka's plans usually ended with a success, and even as irritating as silver wolf could be, she had enough knowledge in her brain to get them out of sticky situations. he definitely didn't mind working with either of them.

you on the other hand, blade was unsure of. ok yes, in your defense, he knew that you were quite intelligent. you were well-versed in the lifestyles of many different galaxies, and you were the type of person who liked to research as much as you could before you stepped foot on a new planet. so the first day blade met you, he did truly believe you were a mature, all-knowing researcher joining the stellaron hunters.

that was before, though. while you still did come off as all-knowing, he now knew you were far from mature.

"will you please quit it?"

you grin cheekily, watching him pace back and forth in front of the locked door you both were hiding behind, on the look out for guards. his red eyes dart back and forth between the door and you as you sit at one of the computers, extracting some files for the mission.

"i'm just saying you could try to smile more, blade."

he scoffs, eyes lingering on you and your annoying grin for a second longer. "nothing to smile about in my life."

you snort, shaking your head as you absentmindedly tap at the screen. "well that's dramatic. you just need something to make you laugh."

"I don't see any funny people around here." he sneers, eyes narrowed as he shoots you a sarcastic grin. you place your hand on your heart in mock offense.

"i'll have you know i am very funny!" you say defensively, shooting him a glare. blade only raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

"sure thing. because everything you've ever said has got me positively giggling. now will you shut up and work faster so we can get out of here?"

a mirthless smile graces your face as you narrow your eyes at him in retaliation. "you just have no sense of humor." you mutter, turning back to the screen. blade rolls his eyes before resuming his lookout, though his gaze does wander back to you more times than he cares to admit. the room is silent save for the occasional clicks of the software you were accessing, and for a second blade thinks he misses the sound of your talking, but he pushes that thought aside.

you somehow seem to pick up on it though, because you speak up again. "hey blade?"

"what?"

"are you rheumatoid arthritis?"

he can't see your face with your back turned to him, and he seems to think you're seriously asking him a question, because he frowns and begins to speak. "are you stupid? do you mean to say do i have rheumatoid arthritis? because, you know that i do not-"

"because you make me feel weak in the knees!"

there's a tense silence as he stares at you, his brain trying to process what you just said. when it clicks his lips curl into a sneer and he groans.

"aeons, will you please shut up? you are so stupid why am i stuck here-"

"hey blade, if you were an element you'd be francium because you're the most attractive!"

his clicks his tongue as you giggle, finally standing up and making your way over to him after downloading all the data you needed. you peer at him mischievously, eyes scanning over his sour expression. "what, not even a smile? tough crowd."

he scoffs, opening the door and ushering you out in front of him so that he can keep an eye on you. "what, that was your strategy? stupid nerdy pick up lines? try harder."

"you're underestimating my resolve, bladie. i will get you."

he hums absentmindedly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at you as he peers down halls for any enemies before sending you the signal to keep walking.

you clear your throat, and he sighs as you begin your inane antics once more. "you must be a good benzene ring because you are so aromatic!"

"stop it right now."

"you must be made of uranium and iodine, because i can see U and I together!"

he pauses, eyes narrowing as a weird tumble occurs in his chest. he glares down at you from the corner of his eyes, trying his best not to dwell on it because aeons above you were just being stupid. he hears you laugh under your breath, and he's about to scold you once more before he hears voices approaching.

"shut up. guards." he orders quietly, pulling your arm back so that you're now hiding behind the wall with him. he watches them carefully, scarlet eyes scanning for any sudden movements as he keeps you behind him. suddenly he feels your finger poke at his bicep as you whisper:

"are you a carbon sample? because i really wanna date you!"

blade feels his face grow hot as he glares at you angrily. he immediately turns around and presses a bandaged hand over your mouth, leaning in close to hiss at you. "you idiot. didn't i say shut up? they're right there!"

you reach up to pull his hand away from your face, though your fingers continue to hold his as you give him another cheeky smile.

"ooh," you whisper dramatically, grinning at his close proximity. "are you a heart arrhythmia? because you just made my heart skip a beat!"

blade's eyes dart all over your face, and he ignores the way that it feels like his brain is short-circuiting since it's probably just because of how reckless you're being. instead he just opts for rolling his eyes and clamping his hand back over your mouth. you let him this time, though he can still tell you're smiling by the way your eyes crinkle.

as soon as the coast is clear, he's leading you back to the ship without a word. the entire way there, you continue to drop more of your stupid lines, and he only gives you annoyed groans in response.

by the time you both are safely back, he's had enough of you.

"-you have 11 protons? because you're sodium fine!" you giggle, and blade's eye twitches once before he's turning around and getting in your face once more. his eyes bore into yours as he smirks.

"oh yeah? if i was an enzyme, i'd be dna helicase, just so that i could unzip your genes." he says, keeping his voice even as he stares at you.

your jaw drops, face heating up at the unexpected turn of events as you stumble over a response. "w-wait, you-!"

"what? you've been yapping my ear off about how great our chemistry is. don't you think we should do some biology together too?" he smirks, red eyes lighting up as he takes in your flustered expression.

"well that's not what i-!" you pause, breath hitching as he leans closer and brushes a strand of loose hair out of your eyes. he chuckles under his breath, peering at you through his bangs.

"damn. you must be an alkali metal. one touch and already highly reactive, huh?"

"blade!" you hiss, eyes darting away from him and he finally relents, pulling back to watch you with an amused grin. you clear your throat, almost like you know how caught off guard you look. "i have to go...report to kakfa."

he bites back a grin, watching you leave through the dark strands of his hair. so flustered that you didn't even realize that in the end you did get him to smile? how amusing.

he laughs quietly to himself, shaking his head. maybe, just maybe, he could try to ask elio to make you his partner permanently.

[chaeza]

Gladiolus

Gladiolus – from Latin word gladius, a sword. A perennial flower in the iris family. Given at funerals to honor the strength and integrity of the deceased.

Major Character Death, Spoilers, Rook goes by Rook and uses they/them pronouns, elf rook, grief, loss, mourning, alcohol consumption, disassociation, anxiety.

The chatter among the Veilguard, excluding Rook, faded as everyone went from the library to the kitchen. Rook sat in their chair, arms rested on either side, picking at the wood with their fingernails. The large doors that led to the fade shut behind their last departing companion with a reverberating thud. Footsteps – light and smooth – quietly approached them.

Emmrich patted the younger Watcher’s shoulder, urging them to join the rest of their friends. When they didn’t budge, he tried again. He gave them a gentle shake, which still didn’t work. Emmrich stood beside them, bending to one knee and leaning forward with the support of his staff so he could see their face.

“Rook?” Emmrich asked. “Rook, darling.” His voice was more stern, but still gentle. Placing a hand on theirs, he followed their gaze to the side of the bookcase where Lucanis stood minutes ago. He patted their hand, turning back to see them nodding gently, brows knitted together, focused. “Rook, are you alright?” He wasn’t sure they could even hear him. Emmrich was aware of Solas using blood magic to commune with Rook, but he didn’t exactly know what the Dread Wolf was doing to them outside of the times Rook willingly spoke to Solas during their meditations. The professor knew the fade well, but the intentions of a trickster god, and his capabilities, were not something he was well-versed in. He made a mental note to commune with the spirits later as he held Rook’s cold and clammy hand. He resumed matching Rook’s gaze, following their line of sight past the murals on the stairs, lingering just before the hallway to the infirmary.

Rook sighed, shaking their head to clear their mind, turning in their chair towards Emmrich, who was met with the same focused expression. Then, Rook’s face shifted quickly, as if Emmrich wasn’t allowed to see any of their less inspiring expressions. The older watcher’s lips were in a stern line, quickly wavering with a small curve in the corner of his mouth when Rook finally acknowledged him.

“Oh! Hello, love.” Rook said, squeezing Emmrich’s hand and becoming painfully aware that their own hands were icy cold. “Is everything alright?” They hoped they didn’t seem unwell. They only had a headache, and a slight pain in their chest, which they really couldn’t pinpoint the cause of in this moment. They offered a crooked smile, a reassuring squeeze of Emmrich’s fingers, the rings slightly digging into their hand.

Emmrich’s face was stern, analytical. He was looking at them like a problem he had to solve. This much they concluded. The intensity of his scrutinizing eyes made Rook more and more uncomfortable. They turned their head to hide the embarrassed blush that spread across their cheeks. Their pointed ears always gave it away though. Rook raised their eyebrows as they felt the grip of Emmrich’s hand fade. They turned to watch him stand upright, both hands on the staff, still looking down at them.

“You tell me.” He said, offering nothing more. A pause. Before the silence became any more awkward, Rook let out a sharp laugh, much to Emmrich’s dismay. Rook rubbed their hands on their pants and pushed themselves up. They rotated their wrists, a relieving cracking sound in their left one made them wonder if the noise was also the sound of Emmrich’s patience. Although he was ever the patient man, they really didn’t want to go down this line of questioning.

They were fine. The pain that swelled in the hollowness of their chest as they took in a shaky breath told a different tale. The hollowness grew from the first moment they confronted Solas in the fade. Every conversation with Varric after only filled it slightly, but the aching persisted after, and with renewed vigor. Rook had contemplated this each time, before ultimately deciding to distract themselves. There was plenty of distraction to go around these days.

“Come with me, Emmrich.” Rook said, sliding their hand into his and nodding towards the stairs. “We can discuss this in private.” They offered a small smile, purely performative, a peace offering. Emmrich returned with a much warmer, genuine smile. He hoped it broke through whatever mask they had put up. He hoped his eyes held a warmth that let them know they were safe to tell him anything. So, they walked hand-in hand to the meditation chamber, Emmrich stealing a glance to the infirmary door which hadn’t opened in days.

Upon entering the meditation chamber – Rook’s room – Rook deflated against the door, blowing out all the air left in their lungs. They sniffed, quickly going to the wardrobe and grabbing two glasses and some alcohol they found recently during the team’s travels.

“Would you like a drink?” Rook offered Emmrich a glass half filled with brown liquor. He politely declined with a raised hand and small shake of his head, careful not to disrupt the well coiffed formation. They shrugged, and downed the glass with one gulp. They hissed as they put the glasses and liquor back in the wardrobe, stifling a cough.

“I wasn’t aware you imbibed.” Emmrich said, though his tone made them aware he was curious. When did they start drinking? Why? Should they be?

Rook put their hands on their hips, responding with a breathy laugh. “It’s recent,” they said, “sometime after we got here. I just -” A sigh. They knew it was reckless. They knew better. “Everything is so much, and Varric…” A sharp pain, again. “Varric was-” A pause, as they rapidly searched for the right words. Their brain shuffled between two words as Emmrich inhaled sharply. He knew. Rook knew. They were stuck between the words “just” and “always.” Between describing what Varric had told them just nowin the library below, and what they remembered him always telling them during their months long hunt for Solas. “-just now telling me I need to trust you all…” The truth, then.

Emmrich nodded, hands laid on one another in front of him. He sighed, understanding, and reassuring. For a moment, Rook thought he was going to say “Ah, yes. I had a nice conversation with him the other day. It is truly remarkable the recovery he’s made in the weeks here!” He would be interested in seeing how the wound made by the lyrium dagger healed in the fade. He would be with Bellara and they would excitedly discuss their theories until Varric shooed them out of the infirmary, grumbling about mages and their weird shit. Instead, Emmrich, stepped forward and placed a hand on their shoulder.

“Rook,” was all Emmrich could say before the tears started flowing. Rook sobbed into his chest, loud and broken. The hollowness threatened to consume them. Emmrich embraced them, hugging tighter as their breath came too fast from choking on sobs. All Rook could hear was the throbbing of their own heartbeat in their ears, and the faint steady beat of Emmrich’s. They squeezed him tighter, knowing all too well this would not fix the hollowness inside them. Their breath slowed, and Emmrich stroked their hair and rubbed between their aching shoulder blades. They both knew this was a pivotal moment in mourning. The truth and acceptance of loss. Grief that hollowed out a hole the same size and shape of the departed in the hearts of the living. It could never be filled exactly, but it could heal, and honoring the dead was a balm. One that hurt like alcohol on a wound, but necessary.

Emmrich kissed the top of their head. It was a promise- one that told them they could stay like this as long as Rook needed. Their sobs turned into soft whimpers and sniffles before quickly rising to wails again. Emmrich wasn’t so different when his parents died, he thought about himself. A small pang in his chest as well, even after all these years. He closed his eyes and laid his cheek on their head, holding them close as he watched the fish lazily swim about the aquarium.

END.

Note: I lost my father June 2, 2024. I realized as I was writing this piece that it has been 6 months since he passed. I miss him greatly. So, naturally, I projected my grief onto Rook by having Varric be a father figure. Thank you for reading! posted on ao3 as well.

[rosetyler42]

Here's a mixed bag of some crossovers I found while looking through my Sorting folder that I don't think I ever posted here!

1. Bendy meets Bendy! I did this gag after watching Everyone Knows It's Bendy and thinking it'd be funny if Fosters Bendy tried to frame Bendy for a crime yeah didn't commit (considering what else Bendy's been through.) Possible WIR-Verse or an AU where Bendy and friends ended up at Fosters after the studio's closure. As @lovelylivelyv said, Bendy's definitely gonna give the guy the scare of his life for this.

(Side note: While Foster's Bendy is a terrible lil shit as a character, Animation-wise I LOVE how he can go from very malicious to over-the-top innocence.)

2. Reuben and Jackie Khones! Two somewhat lazy, wise-cracking, sandwich-loving cartoon characters I could definitely see getting along. (Outside of their treatment of Wilt. Unlike Jackie, Reuben would see no reason to pick on a nice guy like Wilt, that's like kicking puppies.)

3. XD A hilarious WIR-Verse bit inspired by The Big Cheese. Somehow, Cheese wandered into Bendy and the Ink Machine without getting killed and most likely only got spooked by Sammy singing about Sheep. Don't ask how he made it in there, but Alice will definitely return him back to Fosters unharmed.

(Though...maybe tied up gagged to stop the annoying constant screams and running off. XD Alice might be a mom, nicer and far less murderous than Susan, but...she's a toon with some skewed thinking and would still find Cheese annoying. Even of she doesn't want to KILL him.)

4. Another in the "Don't ask how this happened" column: Bugs offering to help fellow hounded underdog Boris the Wolf deal with his "Angel Dame" problem.

5. This one came from the similarities and contrasts between Coraline and Destination: Imagination. Considering Coraline's experience was with a child-eating demon and The World was just a child looking for a friend (and the Beldam luring her in and spying on her with a doll) I thought it'd be interesting to have these two meet.

6. Some Coraline v Vanellope argument about Vanny leaving Sugar Rush for Slaughter Race. Both girls are in some ways important to their games and very adventurous, clever, and rebellious. But Coraline's learned what running off to live in a fantasy world and leaving family and responsibility behind can mean, what disasters that can bring, and doesn't want Vanny to make the same mistake. Whereas Vanny sees herself as just another racer, bullied her whole life and thought if as just a mistake, who doesn't really fit in there and feels meant for other things.

9. XD Here's an amusing AU: What if Coraline met Pinky and the Brain in the Other World somehow, thinking they were Other World mice since they could talk like she first mistakes the cat? Brain and Pinky most likely were on some take over the world scheme but I could see them trying to help this girl not get eaten by an obvious predator. Bonus, added by a question from @lovelylivelyv : Coraline actually wouldn't be thrown much by Brain's obvious spelling out of his identity and intentions. It's not the weirdest thing she's heard that day, and she might assume he either means THIS world or Her real world, whichever one she doesn't like more when he says it. Which...might bother him a bit, even as much as he appreciates the child's intellect.

7+8 I love the idea of Ki from "Mars Needs Moms" and @lovelylivelyv and I's version of Alice meeting. Two old-timey style characters somewhat unfamiliar with contemporary human culture but with a fascination with color and plants though growing up in a barren mono-color world. 7 shows Ki modified her color tags for the Cycle as a gift for Alice, while Alice shows an excited Ki a flower she grew herself.

10. Some messing around with Pinky and the Brain and my Drakgo shipchild OC, Lily Lipsky! Inspired by Two Mice and a Baby and the History song. I know Brain's not really good with kids normally, but with Lily being a evil genius child prodigy with intentions for World Domination who actually seems to LIKE him and UNDERSTAND his lessons...I feel they'd get along pretty well. Bonus: Pinky as usual, not paying attention and staring at a picture of Pharphignewton as a shout out to @lovelylivelyv 's ship.

@chytag @candyheartedchy (Ok, I know you're not into Reuben anymore and Jackie's an enemy, but I did draw Reuben and Bugs here.) @black-ak9 @hotelt-resurrection @serial-serializednovelreader @heartsong1994 @sammy-lawrence-my-beloved @gothicthundra @midnightcaptions @sweet-or-sarcastic @flowery-laser-blasts @inkiedraws @inkhyaena @inkspottie @inkwelldevil @thedopedemon @thedobermutt @thedemonsurfer @themangolover724 @blo0st4r

[snkts]

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INCORRECT QUOTES || ACCEPTING

Miguel: I've met a lot of pricks in my time, but you, Logan, are a fucking cactus.