#and sometimes i never find it and simply settle for something lol

[padme-amidala]

hi erika! i love your edits, they’re always so colorful and vibrant. do you have any suggestions for color pairs or how you pick them?

hi kat! thank you so much 🫶 and sorry i'm a bit late with my reply! i've been using this website lately because i've been feeling like i always go for the same combinations and that website has been a great way to mix things up :) but here are some things that come to mind that i do and might help you as well:

usually i start by playing with colors on a gif i'm gonna use on a set and see what works best with the footage and the vibe i'm going for

i think i tend to go for colors that are in harmony with each other rather than contrasting colors (personal preference, contrasting colors are great too, but i really only use purple + yellow)

-> colors that are close/next to each other on the color wheel (i.e. purple & blue, teal & purple, pink & orange)

i've been loving combining colors with black & white lately (especially red). when i do this (if i'm blending) i usually keep one gif black & white (aside from faces/skin in general) and color the other one vibrantly

gold!! i think it looks great with pretty much any color or combined with black & white (or as an accent, i.e. typography)

also peach/light orange! especially pretty combined with purple/pink/deep blue etc.

this is more of a technical thing but if i know i'm going to be working with mostly dark scenes, i use deeper colors like red, purple and blue. i find a lighter color like yellow more difficult to work with on a dark base

idk how helpful this was but i really hope you got some ideas out of these!!

[aventurineswife]

Requesting Reader pampering Dan Heng (especially in his Imbibitor Lunae form). 🙏 Washing and brushing his hair, drawing a bath for him after the shower, helping Pom-Pom cook healthy meals for him, leaving snacks and drinks for him at the door outside of the archives (and telling March to ask first before taking any bc March’s room is right next to the archives lol), reminding him once in a while to drink water and stretch, massaging his back and neck, making sure the temperature in the archives isn’t too warm or cold—

I just really need Dan Heng to be pampered, he deserves it.

As the Lotus Floats, So Shall You

Summary: You quietly care for Dan Heng, particularly in his Imbibitor Lunae form. You take the time to pamper him, washing and brushing his long hair, preparing his bath, cooking healthy meals, and offering gentle reminders to care for himself. Despite his reserved nature and the weight of his past, Dan Heng allows himself to be cared for, slowly finding comfort in your presence and your attentive gestures.

Tags: Dan Heng IL x Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Soft Caretaking, Slow Burn, Quiet Devotion, Light Domestic.

Dan Heng was always difficult to care for—not because he rejected kindness, but because he often didn’t know how to receive it. In his Imbibitor Lunae form, the weight of past lives pressed heavier on his shoulders, making him even more withdrawn, more hesitant to accept the warmth you so willingly offered. But that never stopped you from trying.

It started small. A cup of tea left outside the archives, a careful arrangement of his favorite snacks placed neatly beside it. You made sure to leave a note—March, please ask before taking. Because while you adored her, you also knew her appetite for anything remotely edible was insatiable. Dan Heng never said anything about the offerings, but you noticed how they always disappeared by morning, the cup emptied, the snacks gone.

Then came the gentle reminders. Drink water. Stretch your legs. The stars will still be there if you take a break. Sometimes, you caught him actually following your advice, rolling his shoulders with a sigh as he took slow sips of water. Other times, he merely glanced at you with that unreadable expression of his—fond, if you dared to hope—before returning to his studies.

But tonight, you were taking things a step further.

Dan Heng sat at the edge of his bed, his long still damp from his shower. His horns glowed faintly in the dim light of the archives, curling elegantly above his head. He looked ethereal, otherworldly, but also exhausted.

“You don’t have to fuss over me,” he murmured, even as you settled behind him, fingers threading through his hair with practiced ease.

“I know,” you said simply, reaching for the brush. “But I want to.”

He let out a quiet sigh but didn’t protest further, leaning slightly into your touch as you worked through the tangles. His hair was silk beneath your fingertips, heavy with the scent of lotus and green tea—something you had picked for him, knowing how much he preferred subtle, soothing fragrances.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence. You brushed with slow, deliberate strokes, making sure to be gentle around his horns. Dan Heng’s shoulders gradually relaxed, tension melting away as you worked.

“You’re warm,” he admitted after a while, voice quiet, almost drowsy.

You smiled. “Is the temperature in here okay? I can adjust it if it’s too cold.”

“It’s fine.” A pause. “You always make sure of that.”

The admission sent warmth curling in your chest, but you didn’t dwell on it. Instead, you set the brush aside, fingers moving to massage the knots in his neck. He tensed briefly at the first touch, then sighed, his head tilting slightly as he allowed himself to relax under your care.

“Turn around,” you coaxed gently.

Dan Heng hesitated but obeyed, shifting so that he faced you, his eyes half-lidded with weariness. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze held something soft, something vulnerable that he rarely let show.

You reached for a towel, carefully dabbing at the ends of his hair before moving to his horns, wiping away any lingering moisture with delicate precision. Your fingers brushed against the smooth, translucent surface, and Dan Heng exhaled sharply, eyes flickering shut for a brief moment.

“Sensitive?” you asked.

“A little.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You softened your touch, mindful of the sensation. When you finished, you stood, moving toward the small bath you had prepared for him earlier. The water was just the right temperature, infused with calming herbs meant to ease fatigue.

“Come on,” you said, offering him your hand. “It’s ready.”

Dan Heng eyed you for a long moment before exhaling softly. He took your hand, fingers cool against your palm, and allowed you to guide him toward the bath. He didn’t say thank you, but he didn’t have to. The way he looked at you—the way he let himself be cared for—was more than enough.

And when you left a final note by the archives later that night, reminding him to rest well, you knew he would see it. Just as you knew, without a doubt, that he would take it to heart.

[ether972]

A Safe Spot

Just Ekko and Jinx taking a nap together. Takes place sometime well after season 2. In my mind Jinx found her way back to Ekko after the whole "dying" thing... the details aren't important lol. Complete timebomb fluff because I literally need to see more of them.

Ekko was stretched out on the old, slightly lumpy couch, his arms folded behind his head as he tried to enjoy a rare moment of peace. The weight of the day hadn't quite settled yet, and he figured he had maybe fifteen minutes before someone—or something—demanded his attention.

But then, as if on cue, Jinx appeared.

Without warning, she flopped down on top of him, her full weight pressing into him as she made herself at home. Her cheek landed right on his chest, her arms loosely draped around his sides, and she let out a contented sigh.

"Jinx," he said with a half-hearted groan. "Seriously?"

"Shh," she muttered, squirming slightly as she tried to find the perfect spot. "I'm busy."

"Busy doing what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, though he made no attempt to move her.

"Napping," she replied simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She tilted her head slightly, her face now nestled against the crook of his neck. The warm puff of her breath sent a small shiver down his spine, and he could feel her body completely relax against his.

Ekko sighed in defeat, his hand instinctively coming up to rest on her back. "You do realize this couch is big enough for two people, right? You don't have to flatten me every time."

"But you're better," she mumbled into his neck, her voice muffled but unmistakably soft. "The couch isn't safe."

"Safe?" Ekko echoed, caught off guard. He tilted his head slightly to glance down at her, but all he could see was her blue hair spilling over his shoulder.

"Mmhm," she hummed, her voice quiet and almost shy. "You're safe. Like… I don't know. My brain won't shut up, and I'm always—" She stopped abruptly, her arms tightening slightly around him. "But when I'm with you, it's… different. Feels like I can actually breathe…"

Ekko's chest tightened, her words hitting him in a way he didn't expect. He didn't say anything at first, afraid of ruining the moment, but his hand began tracing slow, soothing circles on her back.

"You're safe with me, Jinx," he said quietly, his voice steady and warm. "Always."

She didn't respond right away, but the way she nestled even closer to him said enough. Her breath was warm and soft against his skin, her weight grounding in a way that didn't feel heavy at all. If anything, it felt… right.

"I don't remember when I started doing this," Jinx murmured after a while, her voice drowsy. "Laying on you, I mean..."

Ekko's smile softened, his hand continuing its slow, soothing motion along her back as her words echoed in his mind. I don't remember when I started doing this, she'd said.

But Ekko did.

Her words reminded him of that night—the one he'd never forget.

It had been a while ago now, in her old hideout, a chaotic mess of wires, explosives, and half-finished projects that mirrored her restless mind. She'd been standing on the edge of that propellor, a detonator clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles turned white. The sight had stopped him cold, his breath hitching at the sheer exhaustion etched into her face. She looked so small, so fragile—like a ghost of the girl he used to know. Her hair was cut, her eyes sunken, and when she glanced at him, the hollow, desperate look in them broke something inside him.

"Go away, Ekko," she'd rasped, voice cracking as if the words themselves cost her more than she had to give.

But he hadn't left. He couldn't.

After multiple attempts of his Z-Drive he finally managed to get her to listen. He sat cross-legged on the floor a safe distance away, talking—just talking. About anything and everything. His memories of Zaun, stories of their childhood, the ridiculous escapades they used to get into. He carried the conversation like a lifeline, hoping to pull her back from the edge she was teetering on.

Eventually, her grip on the detonator slackened. Her walls crumbled, piece by piece, until she was crying—sobbing—harder than he'd ever seen her cry. Between the broken gasps and hiccups, her words came spilling out in jagged pieces. About Isha. About Vi. About Silco and how "everyone who gets close to me dies, Ekko."

He hadn't known what to say to that. What could he say? He'd just held her as she cried, his arms tight around her as if he could somehow shield her from the ghosts that haunted her.

Eventually, her exhaustion had won. She'd laid her head on his shoulder, her breaths slowing, the tension in her body easing as sleep claimed her. Ekko didn't move, his eyes fixed on her face, taking in every detail—the faint streaks left by her tears, the way her lashes rested softly against her cheeks, the curve of her lips now free from their usual smirk or sneer. She looked different like this—quiet, calm, almost vulnerable. It struck him how rare this was, how long it had been since he'd seen her without the weight of everything pressing down on her. In that moment, she wasn't Jinx the loose cannon, the living storm. She was just her. Peaceful in a way he couldn't remember ever seeing before.

That night, as her soft breaths evened out against his shoulder, he'd made a silent promise to himself. Whatever it took, however hard it got, he'd always be there for her. Always. Even if she never believed it, even if she never asked, he'd stay. Because someone had to. Because he wanted to. Because beneath all the chaos and sharp edges, she was still the girl he'd once known, and he couldn't lose her again.

Jinx's drowsy murmur brought him back to the present. "I just… it's nice."

Ekko's lips curved into a small smile, and his hand stilled briefly before brushing through her hair again. "It is," he admitted, his voice soft. "Even if you're basically smothering me."

"Shut up," she grumbled, but there was no real bite in her tone. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her nose brushing against his cheek so she could look at him. "You like it."

"Maybe," Ekko teased, though the warmth in his voice gave him away. His fingers continued their gentle path through her hair, untangling a few strands absentmindedly.

For a while, they just lay there in silence, the quiet hum of the room wrapping around them like a blanket. Jinx's breathing started to slow, her body growing heavier as she drifted closer to sleep. Ekko tilted his head slightly, resting his cheek against the top of her head. Her hair smelled faintly of gunpowder and something sweet, and he found himself smiling again.

As Jinx dozed, Ekko stayed still, his arms holding her securely against him. It wasn't often she let her guard down like this, and he wasn't about to ruin it. If being her safe place meant letting her sprawl all over him and nuzzle into his neck whenever she wanted, then he'd gladly be that for her.

After all, nothing in the world felt quite as right as this.

[purehoneyblossom]

astro observations rant post tbh

I don't think any other Venus sign truly deserves to be with a Scorpio Venus. Not a single one of you is up to par and you know it too. Scorpio venuses settle each and every time they get romantically involved with someone who is not also a scorpio venus (or at least has their Venus in 8H).

Capricorn placements love acting resentful towards you once they realized they can’t give all the things they promised to give you even though you never fucking asked them for anything in the first place. They just love messing up their own credibility sometimes. They’re the type to introduce you to a vibe they can’t maintain lol

this isnt a observation but why are yall making asteroid posts and not including the damn number of the asteroid in question??????

People only call Libras liars (lazy af at this point) because there is really not much else negative to say. But the gag is.. EVERYBODY lies. Every human who understands how human nature and human interactions work knows that you have to lie (and lie often) in order to maintain harmony socially. We lie to our friends, we lie to our family, we even lie to ourselves. So hang this take up PLEASE DEAR GOD.

Adding on to that, Libras truly are just mirrors to what people refuse to face about themselves. 🙃 If you were throwing the evil eye at them they gave you that mean girl energy for sure bc they knew something was up with you. If you came at them on some fake shit, they gave that energy right fucking back.

We all have a right to self determination... correct? With that being said its totally fine that some of us possibly won't experience love/romance/relationships in this lifetime. (Especially for the het girlies) Its fine that you can often see that in a chart. You don't have to try to appease to the girls with "harsher" aspects or placements in their chart. Plus, I see a lot of astrology girlies contradict themselves multiple times in their posts in the name of trying to bullshit around the truth. Some of us were put on this earth for self focus, growth and exploration alone. And that's okay.

A lot of us simply aren’t exciting enough to date Gemini/Sagittarius/Aries/Aquarius placements and that’s okay! Let ‘em date each other.

It’s hard getting to know a Scorpio moon because getting to know them involves knowing the trauma that they’ve endured because it’s probably 90% of their story and what’s made them who they are. And that’s a lot to drop on someone on a first date or when you’re first getting to know someone…. Or even the first year of knowing someone. TW Sorry they didn’t want to tell you they were sexually assaulted when they were a kid and that turned their life upside down for the absolute worst...

Libra placements don’t have mean girl energy, they have older sister energy. You know, the older sister who you wanted to be so badly, you wanted to look like her, dress like her, act like her, etc and she was “ mean” to you bc you were her little annoying ass sibling lol but every now and then she’d be nice and let you put on some of her makeup. It’s that kind of energy.

I take a lot of what others say about synastry with a huge grain of salt because its not the synastry placement or aspects that caused the negative outcome babygirl, the relationship was doomed from the start. You had to convince yourself to even find him attractive in the first place just because he showed you romantic attraction and a lot of yall just have very low standards.

Having an aquarius moon must be like naturally having SSRIs running through your synapses at all times... must be nice..

Cancer placements are not sensitive in the empathetic, feeling what others feel kind of way. They are sensitive in a "if you do something that hurts me I will crash the fuck out on you and take it to hell no matter the degree of what you did to me" kind of way. This could be applied to all the water signs but no one does it like Cancer.

Definitely not stamping this as a solid observation but i'm noticing that people tend to form quick crushes on people who have their sun sign in the sign of their venus sign. However, they do not last... let me find out that sun-venus synastry conjunction ain't all that...

I think people are more obsessed with scorpio venuses being obsessive than scorpio venuses actually being obsessive themselves. When speaking of scorpio venus, people fail to mention that it is hard for this placement to even like or love people to the point they're obsessed with them. They rarely like people enough to even like them like that. Actually, you have more of a chance of them disliking or hating you than you do them being romantically liking you or being obsessed with you.

Virgo suns (tropical/sidereal) have such a short tolerance for stupidity or people acting confused lol They get irritated fast when people don't catch on quickly. Unevolved, they are the type to make you feel really dumb for not understanding something.

Y'all want libra placements to be jealous soooo bad lol that's not how emotions and characteristics work. You can't project an emotion you want an entire group of people to identify as to make yourself feel better about YOU feeling that way. I swear jealousy makes the girlies act like weirdos. It's okay to be obsessed, I promise. I am too 🙃

I'll admit it, I used to look at a lot of the sagittarius suns I would meet and interact with sideways for some of their viewpoints on things until I recently realized something about them. A pattern I noticed about them is that during their upbringing, others around them (usually adults) will project their own toxic/problematic beliefs onto them intensely. That Jupiter influence is kinda of dangerous, beneficial for sure but kind of dangerous too.

I'm glad someone else made a post about how ridiculous some of the astrology "observation" posts can get because some of you get really out of line. I try to give a lot of grace bc I notice that a great majority of you are younger than 22 and that frontal lobe is not even near done baking but I wish that y'all would really sit with some of the things you're writing before deciding to post certain things. I remember writing in my last astrology post about how some of you believe people with prominent libra placements are lgbt+... never got an answer 🙃

Keeping the rant going, can we stop with the mad specific ass observation posts. I feel like we've lost the plot on astrology observations. Like why the fuck are you posting observations about Neptune in Aquarius in the 8th house cusp in a chart with a Libra stellium and a grand trine.............. girl if you don't gtf! If you want to talk about someone you know or yourself just say that!

With all that being said, I feel that it is important for those interested in astrology to seek information and education outside of Tumblr. Specifically from older astrologers. Not to come across as ageist against young people who are into astrology but some of the takes you guys tend to have do come off as you needing to live a little bit more and get more experience before judging certain placements/aspects/signs.

"most people i know with [insert a random negative stereotype about a natal aspect based on a few personal experiences with ppl here]" okay... wtf do you want the rest of us with this aspect in our charts to do about it? Like what do you hope to accomplish when you make posts like this? Seriously....?

For the sake of time, I'll leave y'all with this video of an astrologer I truly respect with her viewpoint on astrology and the shit that we need to leave in 2024, all of which I wholeheartedly agree with.

Till next time hoes, happy new year!

[amoristt]

panoramic view

「 ✦seong gi-hun/reader ✦ 」 tags: sfw // hurt/comfort, post-games season 1, gihun is traumatized, angst

a/n: sorry this is so dramatic i was in a vibe while writing it lol pack it up wattpad. sometimes i like to just word-soup and hope it all comes together also u guys should totally listen to this song its sooo good wordcount: 1,200 |

・❥・ if it were up to you, you'd have already pried open his chest and fished out every thought and feeling he kept stored away there. all those rampant things shoved taut between the weary bones and rigid muscle. you’d always wanted to be let in, to know what he knew. feel what he felt and be the stable ground under his sore feet. but as fate would have it, it wasn’t up to you, and waiting for Gi-hun to come around was more akin to the luring of a stray animal than anything else. the entire being of him, down to his very atoms, had been molded to withstand and bear an eternity of suffering in creaking silence. some great damn holding back swollen valleys of despair.

everything had built up and become so much and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to let it go. he’d been down that winding road before- and he’d been called every name in the book as a direct result of it. from the police to his neighbors, not a soul believed a word out his mouth. he was simply a liar on the best of days, and a no-good failure of a father on the worst of days.

so, he adapted. and he grew silent. 

but even with the ferocity of his resolve, one could only hold back that flood for so long. 

you were so kind, and you had been waiting there for him all along. you caught him one particular evening at the brink of something catastrophic and you knew in that moment, if those walls of his were to ever crumble to dust, it would be right then, right there. the perfect push and just the perfect prod. 

you were right. 

unraveling all at once was like an art, you think. because when Gi-hun finally lets you in, it starts with these heavy pregnant pauses. he retains the cautious brain power to pick every word that left him carefully. to say it all just right, to be presentable and worthy of being believed. shrinking himself down as he grew restless, afraid to be too much as he recounted all the horrific things he’d seen and done. and those what he could not stop. 

the seams of him began to pop and ripple, this sense of frantic urgency growing by the second. your heart responded just as intensely, caught between swelling as you were allowed to bear witness to all of him whilst also breaking into a thousand fragmented bits as he spoke.

he blamed himself more than he didn’t. 

Sae-byeok, Il-nam, Sang-woo. three-hundred and forty-five faces that would haunt him for the rest of his life. all losers to his miserable winner, so it was surely his fault they'd never left that place. it was his fault, in fact, that it was his fault at all. for failing in so many aspects of his life that led him to the games in the first place. doomed from the very start and walking the curb of failure until it took him all sorts of terrible places.

by the end of it, with doe-wide eyes and a heaving chest, he waited. 

it was so much to take in at once you could barely make space to swallow it all down. it slithered its way down your throat and settled with the weight of a boulder in your gut. perhaps your expression seemed too far away, or perhaps he saw something in those that distant expression he’d seen far too many times already, because he leaned back on his heels. a miniscule distance further from you, but growing space none the less. subconsciously, so subtle you'd miss it if you blinked, but you saw it. he was already preparing for the shut down.

you try to recapture him when you touch his face. gently cupping the sides of his boney cheeks and making right and sure he was looking straight into your eyes.

you believed every word that left those lips of his. you'd believe anything, you think, at the edge of your metaphorical seat and feeling the endless push and pull of his gravity. the urgency of him was all consuming, and perhaps you were a fool, but you believed him. from the games to the piles of dead to being dropped off by mysterious men in the middle of the night. 

to the billions in his bank accounts oozing in blood and regret, and to the darkness in those eyes of his that have seen much more than was meant for him. 

that energy of his is starting to whither away by the second and he's focusing those beautiful browns elsewhere in shame, and you cant stand to see him go. not again. 

“i believe you.” you blurt.

it reels him in fast as a lance of lightning until he's filling the gap. nimble fingers find you before you can find them, clutches at your shoulders and drags down your skin until they're firm along your forearms. 

“you believe me?” like he cant believe it. 

you nod, because you do. by god, with every fabric of your entire being, you believed him. and the light in his eyes shone just enough to catch when you’d said it, gripped you by the shoulders and shook you loose right there. a rush of hope skitters under his flushed skin and races through his veins and it cries into his ears, you believe me, you believe me. 

there were walls around him so rugged, a constant shove of claustrophobic isolation. there was a time where you wondered if you, truly, could ever reach him at all. 

but he wasn’t invincible, nor impenetrable. he was just as much weak as he was strong, both as frail as a bird and as solid as the ground below. 

so when he fell into you, you could do nothing else but curl your body around the shape of him like shield. like the perfect blanket in a soft bed sheltered from the raging storm, or like warm, warm loving arms with hands gathering all those pieces of him together. the rupture of him was like feeling the sun for the first time, because he was all yours. in your hold, in your embrace, burrowing away under your skin. 

Gi-hun is all that he is. even with the layers of grime and misery, he is always Gi-hun. impulsive, self-indulgent. antsy with the inability to still until this very moment where all time froze at his fingertips. flustered, broken apart by the edges and hiding his face away into your skin.

alive, sweet and soft and not the edgy hardened creature he’d become within the shadows of the games. 

you rebuild him by catching his cheeks in your hands once more and pressing your lips to his forehead. 

before they’re the cacophony of woes, the first of his cries are quiet, sniffling things.

and when his lungs are aching and properly expelled, they die off as softly as they began. 

[lightlycareless]

what would naoyas reaction be to finding out Satoru was y/ns first kiss?

Hello!!

Well, it would be chaos. LOL. Poor Naoya is very insecure even if it doesn't look like it 🤣 but why say this when I can show you?

warnings: fluff. a jealous naoya. satoru is a jerk? maybe. he likes to be silly. a lot. too much. also not sure if to tag this as a regular prompt or a side story, but considering that happened in my fic... i've decided to take it as a small side story.

Happy reading!

He would lose it. Even if you explained that it was nothing but a bet, curiosity getting the best of you and no feelings involved, Naoya would take this as a quick starter for his one-sided competition against Satoru.

He just had to prove how he was so much better than the Gojo heir in everything; from clothes, to cars, to what phone model he had for the moment, even the places he took you out to eat!

And naturally, Satoru wouldn’t even know what was going on, believing Naoya was simply doing whatever spoiled heirs did (never him, of course. Self-awareness is out the window) though he was curious to know what you thought of the matter, you appeared to be quite… overwhelmed by these sudden changes, surely, you’d be able to offer some insight behind all this.

Thus, after asking you to meet at a nearby café…

“You mean to say you don’t know why your husband is acting all…” Satoru scowls, failing to find the right word to describe his behavior, if there even was one…

“No, really, I don’t! I mean… sometimes he just likes to buy things! Sometimes for himself, sometimes for me, especially after a well-done mission or simply because we’ve been apart for far too long. I don’t like it when he does it impulsively, though, since I suspect he gets in trouble with his family over it…” You say. “Well, that’s a bit off topic—anyways, I don’t think he’s doing anything… differently. Why do you ask?”

“Come on, Y/N. You don’t actually believe that do you?? I’ve seen it in your eyes, you know that isn’t your typical obnoxious Naoya—”

“Don’t say that of him. And, well, I guess he’s been a bit off, but…”

“There! Now, let’s backtrack your steps, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Why does it matter so much to you? You’re the same too!” You frown.

Because he’s been far more attentive than he liked to let on; noticing that whenever he went all-out on his spending, he was around. With anyone else he was just… normal, he supposes. If that adjective could even be used on Naoya.

Or maybe because he didn’t want to take his actions as a reflection of his own. But since when did he even care what others thought of him? Might’ve been after one nasty comment from your sister…

“I’m actually more likeable but thank you for trying.” Satoru says, you roll your eyes. “Anyways, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Oh, if you really must know then I guess a few days ago?”

“And what happened then? You have to give me all the details Y/N! Don’t half-ass your story!”

“You’ll have to be nicer about it if you want me to tell you!”

“I’ll buy you any sweet you want—”

“I already have Naoya for that.”

“Then I’ll get you a copy of that game you’ve been looking for ages, deal?”

“Alright, alright.” You sigh, conceding. “…I mean, I don’t think there’s much else for me to tell you. We kind of just talk about anything that crosses our minds; make the most of our time together before he has to leave for work again, you know?”

“Ugh, that’s gross.”

“Satoru!”

“I mean—oh, poor you; anyhow, there must’ve been something you said that made him act this way! Come on, remember!”

“Well, we… we talked about wanting to go down to the city for dinner, before settling for the garden. We then laughed about something funny that happened to one of the servants, something that reminded me of that one thing I did when I was younger—with you, actually! You know which one, when I bet you a kiss—”

Oh.

OH.

And just like that, everything made sense.

“No, Satoru—I know that look, don’t even—!”

“Jealous?! Your husband’s acting like that because he’s jealous? Of me?!?” Gojo shrieked, undoubtedly having the time of his life with this revelation.

“No, he’s not! Stop it already, it’s not even funny…”

“I mean, surely you must know how he is.” He snickers. “He’s always been the competitive one, even when we were kids! I just never thought it would come to you—do you think he fears I’m going to steal you away? Or maybe—oh no, are you falling for me, Y/N??”

“What?! You need to lay off whatever it is you consume; it’s affecting your perception of reality!”

“How about it? Wanna see the limits his jealousy takes him to?” Satoru continues teasing. “Ah, he must be devastated that I took your sweet first time, do you think he has nightmares because of it? Wonders if he could ever compare to me?”

“No! Now, if you excuse me, there’s some misunderstandings I need to clear up.” You swiftly interrupt, standing up from your seat before making your way back home, back to an anxious Naoya who has been nothing but torturing himself with self-deprecating thoughts ever since you told him you were to meet Satoru. His biggest contender for your affections so it seems, the one putting his marriage in jeopardy…

But thankfully, you were there to ease all of these hurtful thoughts away, once and for all.

“Naoya… my dear, can we talk?”

“…What is it?” a pout on his face as he grumbles, side effects of his overwhelming jealousy.

“There’s a reason why you’ve done all that… compulsive spending, isn’t you?”

“No. I just do it because I want to.” He responds sternly, you sigh.

“I know why, Naoya. You don’t have to hide it anymore.” You reveal, making him tense for a quick moment before sighing too. “It was long ago, and it didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Ugh, I know, and yet—I can’t help but feel resentful. Like I… I lost something.”

“Oh, Naoya… but that was just a silly thing I did as a child, you know?” you coo, soon wrapping your arms around him and pulling him to you. “Besides, you’ve taken something much more important from me.”

“What?”

“My heart—and that is something no one will ever win from you, not even Satoru.”

“…I truly acted like a child, haven’t I?” Naoya says, embarrassed.

“Well, I always thought you were cute when jealous, but… never to the extent of making you insecure. Less with someone as annoying as him! How could you possibly even think I liked him?” you giggle.

“I don’t know… He’s… not that bad, I guess.” He looks away, flustered.

“Yet, he’s not you, silly.” You say, standing on your tiptoes to give place a sweet kiss on the lips. His heart warms up for the first time since that day, slowly melting away all his uncertainties. “He’ll never be. Thank God! So… does this mean we can settle everything and leave all this behind?”

“Only if you show me how much better I am than Satoru…”

“Was that even disputable?” you ask, Naoya’s arms snaking around your waist and pulling you even closer.

“No, I just need a reminder—wouldn’t mind a demonstration for him too…” he teases, you frown.

“… Just one kiss, and that’s it. Nothing more. You know I don’t like it when other sees us like this.”

“Of course, you’re only mine, after all.”

Y/N to the rescue 🥺 But don't I seem to always write her reassuring him? Thankfully I do have something planned for that... a jealous Y/N that needs to be reminded of how much Naoya truly loves her :))))

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! I'm sure I've spoken about Naoya reacting to Y/N's first kiss and how it involved Satoru (unfortunately) but this time around I've decided to write a little something :> I hope you enjoyed it!

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!

[jukesjoint]

Hey, request for Jordan Li:

So, what if Jordan's ex liked them better in their male/female form, and they got insecure because of it. Now they're dating reader, and that insecurity rises. So, the reader assures them that they're perfect in both forms. Smut or fluff?

Thanks.

I Like You in More Ways Than One !!

warnings, insecurities, fluff. SMUT (first time tell me how it was OK? OK!) pairings, jordan li x reader. don’t think this was my best but i really hoped u enjoyed lol

Relationships are a tricky path to follow. You’ll always have a piece of the person that came once before and although there are some that tend to learn how to live with it, there are others who simply hold on to those in the most degrading way possible. Relationships are our puzzle pieces and for a piece to go missing, it’s hard finding the right one that will fit into that vacant spot once more.

Jordan’s ex left a huge dent in them after their relationship ended. It felt like a farce most of the time, but Jordan wasn’t the kind of person to see their partner for who they really are. When they’re in a relationship, a partnership, all they ever see is a rose coloured world. Where everything their significant other does cannot and will not be impacted in a negative way. It’s why Jordan found themselves in situationships more often than an actual relationship nowadays.

Opening their eyes to the wrongs of what their ex put them through was like whiplash. How could they have been so clueless to the way they were treated. Jordan hadn't taken into account just how others acted around their ex, too. So, it was a breath of fresh air when you arrived into their life. Jordan didn't really know what to do or how to react to certain things. With their ex, it seemed as though everything was a problem and Jordan had to walk on eggshells around her.

Whenever she caught them in their female form, the attraction, the yearning (if you can even call it that) dissipated. She didn’t love all parts of them, having shown it one night at a party that Jordan did not attend. It broke them for weeks knowing it was all just a facade for her. That it showed Jordan wasn’t good enough for to even keep a girlfriend. And yet here they were, hopelessly devoted to you, letting their heart feel again and love again and be enthralled in the warmth of intimacy.

But no matter how much Jordan felt for you, there was always a shred of doubt that had them second guessing themselves over and over again. What if you never liked them in their female form? What if you’re just being nice and sparing their feelings because you know how sensitive they get? What if all this is a practical joke and you’re just waiting on the day for them to fuck up so you can finally leave?

Jordan was so stuck in their head sometimes, it was kind of infuriating but this is something they hide so well.

You both were supposed to meet up for a lunch date after your noon classes, but Jordan was nowhere to be found and it started to make you worry. None of your phone calls were being answered, texts left on delivered. You were going around in a twist trying to find them. “Hey, have you guys seen Jordan?” The blonde was the first to look up at you, a big grin spreading across her lips. “____, hey! No I haven’t. Everything good?” Cate asked, hand on your arm as she squeezed it gently. Andre was beside her, the shake of his head telling you he hasn’t seen them either.

“We were supposed to meet up for lunch. I just…I don’t know, this doesn’t happen. Usually they’ll tell me if they’re running late.” The worry was slowly settling into your chest as you emitted a shaky breath. Cate sensed your discomfort immediately and drew herself closer to you. Her hands were comforting, but it didn’t do much to settle the overwhelming feeling. You tried to calm yourself, being outside was a good distraction with the many things around you. “Okay. Okay, hey listen. I’ll help you find them.”

You nodded as you turned around with her to begin your search of Jordan, leaving Andre behind. “Yeah! I’ll just be here, not like I want to search for them too.” His words went off to deaf ears, both you and Cate recalling where Jordan was before you were supposed to meet.

You were going around in a twist. Jordan wasn’t in their dorm room, not in the canteen, the commons or the gym. You tried their phone several times and no answer. Cate was beginning to see just how stressed this was all making you, opting to split up so you both can cover more ground to find Jordan. Please just, fucking be okay. You thought to yourself as you did a 360 on the middle of campus to see if you’ll spot them. It didn’t click to you until minutes later that Jordan was hiding and their hiding place was somewhere that wasn’t quite easy to find.

But the both of you frequented there a lot when you just wanted to be in each other’s presence without anyone else interfering. You began your long trek up the woods to the very secluded clearing of the mountains behind the school. It was like a quiet pocket on Earth that was surrounded by water and trees that stretched for miles high. It was the one place that Jordan had found in order to collect themselves after any event that triggers them.

Being out of breath was not an issue for you, knowing every step and where to avoid placing your feet as you finally made it to the clearing. Your wide eyes laid on the very person you were worried about for the past two hours, your heart sinking as you heard them sniff several times.

“Baby…”

“Fuck! You scared me! What the fuck, what are you doing here?” Jordan, in their female form, got up quickly, wiping away the tears that were sliding down their plumped and redden cheeks. You quickly rushed over placing your hands over them as she looked at you with sorrow eyes. “You didn’t meet up with me for our lunch date, I was going crazy out of my mind wondering wheee you were.”

Jordan’s eyes softened once more before a wave of tears spilled from their brown eyes once more; your heart cracked looking at them in despair. What happened to make her feel this way? And why couldn’t she feel like she could talk to you? You wrapped your arms around her in a tight, warm hug, allowing her body to shake vigorously as they let out a wailing sob. You didn’t know what was going on and when you find out you were surely going to make whoever made Jordan cry pay.

“What’s going on, huh? Why’d you hide from me? Please tell me, did I do something? I can’t stand seeing you like this.” Jordan moved out of your hug, wiping at the snot that formed on your sweater and her nose. She shook her head, grabbing on to your hands to lead you to the rock they were sitting on to have you sit next to them. “It’s not you, trust me it’s never you.” It was a whisper that you almost didn’t catch. Thank you supersonic hearing!

Jordan’s hands found a home on the nape of your neck, your hand immediately placed over hers. You scanned their face, “Talk to me, lovebug.”

“I…uh…I saw my ex this morning. On accident. It wasn’t intentional.” The worry in your chest was replaced with a sizzling anger that was sure to grow into full on rage, “What did she do?”

“No. No she didn’t do anything. I didn’t even let her see me. I just…it just triggered me and I didn’t know what to do so I came here.

“Our relationship wasn’t the best. And I got flashbacks to it and I felt like it was bleeding into ours, but I was making it up in my head.” Jordan paused, squeezing your neck gently before continuing, “I never told you that she preferred me as a guy when we dated. She knew of my ability, but she didn’t take it so kindly whenever I would switch.” She laughed softly to make light of the situation, as if it was something comical to joke about. The expression on your face immediately changed hers back.

“I always just felt like arm candy to her, but I was so in love her, baby I kinda let that all go.” You sat listening to her as she rambled about her ex. Nothing angered you more than when Jordan was made to feel insecure and though you preferred them to just be them when you both were together, it didn’t stop the inkling feeling Jordan had in the back of their mind that you were just being nice about it. “I thought that you probably felt the same way. I don’t know…I don’t know why I thought that.”

You leaned forward to kiss them slowly. Jordan hummed softly as your lips caressed theirs, their hand sliding to your side to pull you closer. It went on for about three minutes before you both pulled away for some air. “Jordy…I don’t want you ever to feel that way with me. I don’t care at all, I care about you. You as in Jordan. The person who would always make sure they have an extra sweater in their gym bag for me. The one who knows my latte order like the back of their hand. The one who doesn’t care when I whine and complain constantly when I’m on my period and have taken over your entire room to self medicate,” you both giggled as you finished your sentence.

It was true, though. You didn’t care at all which form Jordan took as long as they were happy. Comfortable. “Your ex will begin to cough in six days and we can celebrate her death after that. But for now, I just want you to know that I love you. Jordan Li, the love of my life. Property Brothers fanatic. Comic book extraordinaire,” your hands made a home on their warm cheeks, thumb caressing the soft skin as you stared deep into their eyes. “I don’t want anyone else but you. Nobody but you.”

Jordan’s heart beat rapidly in their chest, leaning forward again to plant a steamy kiss on your lips. Nothing made them more sure about your relationship than this moment and all Jordan wanted to do was ravish you alive. “I love you.”

“I love you, so so much.” Your words were breathy, eyes immediately shutting as you laid them back against the rock to climb up over them. The kiss was deepening as you couldn’t help, but smirk a little as you planted your leg between their legs; Jordan lazily humping your thigh. Your hands were suddenly everywhere until you remembered Cate, “Oh my god! Wait! Before we continue I have to tell Cate I found you!”

You scrambled to get up only for Jordan to snatch your phone out of your hand and toss it into the unsettling lake before you. “Jordan!”

“I’ll get you a new one. I need you now.” That shut you right up as you both resumed kissing, this time with Jordan on top. You slid your hands underneath their sweater, moaning as you felt their breasts spill into your hands. Squeezing them brought out the nastiest moan to ever escape Jordan which you even more aroused than you were before. The lips smacking together made the noise echo through the open area, your leg finding its place back in between her legs.

They grind against your thigh, legs squeezing together to create more friction. You tweaked her nipples causing her to push her chest out more and her hand finding its place on the strands of your hair, tugging lightly. You whined softly, your left hand abandoning her soft mound to travel achingly slow towards the place she needed you most. Along with your thigh, your hand added more pressure to her clit, hips stuttering slowly. “Fuck, fuck please touch me. I want your fingers inside me,” she moaned against your lips.

You happily obliged, flipping her over to have her on her back. The rock wasn’t the most comfortable place to be doing this, but you both had major experience going at it on the same rock so they were used to the prickling along their back. Said the “pain’s tolerable knowing I’ll cum because of you.” You held it over their heads for a month. You brought your fingers to their lips, “Suck,” and Jordan being the good girl she is took both fingers into her mouth, wetting it as much as she can with her saliva.

“That’s a good girl,” she could’ve came right then and there if it wasn’t for the sudden intrusion of your fingers in her hole. Her back lifted into an arch, a loud moan echoing through the woods. Your fingers worked expertly as you lifted her sweater to wrap you warm lips around her nipple. Jordan’s moan sounded wet and strained, hands on your shoulders immediately squeezing them with her all might. You felt her squeezing the hell out of your fingers, dripping on to your palms, swirling your tongue around the now perky, hardened nipple.

Pumping your fingers in and out of her while circling your thumb on her clit was driving her mad. She has started panting, short breaths as her legs squeezed around your hand once more. “Come on, you can do it for me, baby. Just let go.” That one little command had her spilling all over your hand, humping your hand as you continued to pump your fingers in and out of her as she came. You rode out her orgasm long enough for her to begin pulling your hand out of her pants to get some reprieve.

“Hm, fuck,” Jordan breathed out. You lifted your wet fingers to your mouth to lick off her juices from them. You moaned, sliding your tongue between them to get every last bit that hung off of them. She watched you with cloudy eyes and a gapped mouth and swore she couldn’t fall for you more than she did in that moment. “Don’t ever think I don’t want you, you hear me?”

“Yes. Yes. Fuck yes, I’ll never think that again.”

“That’s my girl.”

[thoninohere]

Childhood Crush - Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson x Neutral Reader

Warnings: None, just some teenage kisses.

Summary: Dick has been having a crush on Barbara for a while, and you're not really interested in Dick, even though you can't deny that your best friend is cute. You two try not to beat around the bush on the subject of love.

You two are around 15-16 years old.

Song: Melting-Kali Uchis/Meaning and lyrics

A/N: I was too lazy to continue this lol. You can read the other titans I have ready here.

Word counter: 1115.

...

Grayson was a bit odd, even though everyone avoided mentioning it. One day he was just another kid, and the next you could swear he looked like an old man recently retired from World War II with PTSD, Grayson was a strange enigma but charismatic enough to hide anything he needed to hide.

His crush on Barbara was curious, although you thought it was normal for him to like someone relatively older, hell even Black Canary or Green Arrow were hot for you; although you still couldn't avoid even a hint of awkwardness about it. Anyway, it was nice to see Dick's loving side whenever Babs worked with the Titans, he was melting like ice cream, and besides finding that endearing, it was nice to see your friend so nervous and confident.

By the time you two were about 16, Dick had given up, it seems that dating Babs was the least of his problems now that the team was having some difficulties against H.I.V.E. And seeing you stressed out because your fights haven't been going well lately makes his chest twist.

But seeing Dick giving up on something? Too strange for you, you knew him, he just didn't give up overnight, he was capable of making a plan that would even last for years so he could realize what he truly love.

Anyway.

Watching you watch stupid comedies that he didn't find funny while eating ice cream just to lighten your mood a little took him out of his comfort zone, Batman never comforted him, and he's just learning how to do that thanks to the other Titans. You had always comforted him so much even when you were just as bad or worse than him in times of stress.

So even though he usually doesn't even take off his mask even if they're in the tower, he sits next to you on the couch while he takes it off and looks at you out of the corner of his eye trying to hide his concern.

"Hey... Your sense of humor is terrible lately; not even Walls goes that low." He murmurs with a comforting smile that makes your organs twist in a strange way. "And you simply have no sense of humor, Richard, buy one." You say with a snort, giving him a light punch on the shoulder.

He laughs, feeling that warmth in his chest. He never wanted to doubt that it was because he felt relatively equal with everyone; or at least that's what he thought. The point is that Dick was smart, a detective, but there was one thing he was sorely lacking in: his feelings.

And by your way not feeling attracted to Dick was almost impossible, you even kept the slight secret of the gay panics that Wally or even Roy have with Richard sometimes have. But you never really thought about having something with Dick, you were all best friends, but he just had a special spark that was hard to see when Barbara visited Titans Tower.

So sometimes it's better to settle for a friendly relationship. And you got used to the idea that Dick is your best friend.

And maybe... Maybe Dick thought something like that. His crush on Barbara was real, but Barbara came into his life long after you, you two were around 11 years old when you first met. He saw you grow and his head on your shoulder when he was tired.

But you two can't avoid that slight spark no matter how much you deny the idea. No one can't escape things forever.

He looks away slightly and clears his throat, because while you two sillys were both thinking about the same thing, were simply staring at each other while dissociating. You can't help but laugh lightly and feel that warmth increase, how long has it been since you two sat down to enjoy each other's company?

"Distracted, Boy Wonder?" You get his attention by tapping him on the forehead that he easily could avoided. "I'd say the same thing, Y/N." He remarks with a smile, still looking deeply into your eyes causing a faint crimson to hover over both of their cheeks before you instinctively move just a little closer.

Richard? Richard was a sweet guy, but there was one thing he and Bruce shared well when they didn't have their masks on; and that was that they were both complete casanovas. Beautiful eyes and a bright attitude is what you were aware they used to their advantage to flirt with elegance and effectiveness.

And even though you swore to yourself that even if you were drunk you couldn't fall into that gaze of Dick's, now thinking about it deeply, it was difficult. Like, boy, stop looking like that, please and thank you. And the worst part? Dick knows what he's doing, he raises an eyebrow and looks at you with that cute smile even though he's acting without stopping to think for the first time.

You freeze, you even want to look away and pretend you have something to do, but then you stare at him too, he's nervous, even a little doubtful of what he wants or does. He looks like an ice cream that's about to melt, as if you were some kind of internal flame that he has or needs right now.

But what's up with this? A glimmer of doubt swirls around you both as you two get closer, what's going on? Does it work? Is it hypothetical anyway? Well if something happens it would still be hypothetical, like an exact experiment that can have hypothetical results for both.

But Dick doesn't think about the hypothetical, no matter how much he'll fill his mind with it later. And he knows that you are indeed hovering around the hypothetical, So, with that out of the way, he pulls you into a small, soft kiss, you gasp in surprise and wonder if he's actually killing himself over it.

No, Dick acts confidently and gently takes your hand, parting without going too far like the great gentleman he is. He looks away, blushing, but his mouth twists as he tries not to look like an idiot by smiling, he wants to say something, he wants to say a thousand things while his mind is in turmoil.

And your mind is blank, and there's nothing else to represent it... Than the alarm in the tower ringing because a villain decided to attack Jump City right now.

What a moment...

[ghostxrose]

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒆 | 𝑨𝒊𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒂 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Part One | Part Two

Summary ~ You have been doing this job for a very long time. Maybe since the dawn of time, but who knows? In all of that time, you never had a doubt or question about the way things were. That is, until now.. because you’re pretty sure that Protectors aren’t supposed to fall in love with those that they’re protecting.

Tags/Warnings ~ Fem!Guardian Angel!Reader, canon typical violence, character injury, angst, hurt, comfort, fluff, medium-slow burn because Shota is bad at feelings, more tags to come as the story develops..

Note ~ Hey, Lovelies! This is something that I've been working on for awhile, and am excited to share with you all! The idea was actually derived from a concept I had for an Original Story that I had started writing a long time ago! There's just something about characters falling in love with ethereal beings and vice versa that I love so much, lol! Anyway, enough of my rambles, enjoy the read, My Lovelies!

Your kind has many names amongst the humans; Protector, Keeper, Champion, Lifesaver, Watcher, Divine Messenger, Guardian Angel, Guardian Spirit, and so on. In the many millennia you’ve existed, you’ve never had a preferred title, just settled on the most accurate term; Protector. Label or not, you simply exist and you have one job. Something that you instinctively and unconsciously perform, no matter who you’re paired with. Your only job is to steer someone away from life-threatening danger. However, it is up to the person to either acknowledge your signs or ignore them.

You’ve never questioned why you exist, why you’ve been given your role, or who was in charge of all of this. You don’t even remember how you came to exist if you were being honest. But from time to time, you do think about some peculiarities you’ve encountered over the thousands of years you’ve been doing this. One of the peculiarities you find to be more.. odd, for lack of a better word, is that of the billions of souls swimming around out there in the universe you’ve experienced repeated pairings with one of them. Though, once again, you don’t ask questions, you just do your job.

Over the last 500 years, you’ve watched over just under a hundred different souls, and that number has only been so low because you keep getting paired with one soul in particular. He’s had a different name each lifetime that he’s lived through, and his appearance changes with each new life. But you can always recognize his soul; the colors of it, the shape of it, the feelings ebbing from it, and.. the way it pulls at yours unlike any other soul has. In this new life, he has dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin, and goes by the name Shota Aizawa.

The world that he has been born into this time intrigues you. It seems as though most humans, including Shota, are born with powers of all kinds. It fascinates and challenges you in the sense that these “Quirk-powered” humans will make your job of protecting Shota a bit harder. But despite being paired with his soul again and the impending challenge, you silently vow to do your job as best you can. Shota certainly doesn’t make things easier for you when he decides to attend a high school that helps the youth to become Heroes. You stay by his side, though, unseen to the human eye as you watch him work to become a Hero.

𖤛 𖤛 𖤛

Let it be said that while your sole purpose is to protect those you’re paired with doesn’t mean that you are some unfeeling being. Countless times have you wished so desperately that you could provide comfort to the humans you protect. Moments when they’re overwhelmed, devastated, or grief-stricken, and all you can do is watch them break apart emotionally. Sometimes, most times, it feels like their pain is your pain. Unfortunately, now is one of those times…

You’re standing beside Shota as he looks down at a pile of rubble that has crushed one of his friends. He’s clutching his bleeding arm with a devastated and traumatized look on his face. As if by reflex, you reach out to put a hand on his shoulder, but your hand phases right through him. You whisper an apology to him even though he can’t hear it, and look at the being across from you. The ethereal glow of their body flickers and dims sporadically as they gaze down at the rubble. It’s hard for you to see the look of deep sadness and guilt on a fellow Protector’s face, especially one you’ve come to know fairly well. They look up at you and the disappointment they feel in themselves is practically palpable.

“You did well… His will to save those children just happened to be stronger than his will to pay attention to your signs… You did all that you could…” You say to them in reassurance, the ethereal echo of your voice holding a certainty to it.

“Thank you…” They say before vanishing into thin air, likely pulled to the next soul they’ll be protecting.

You look back to Shota and wish that he didn’t have to experience such pain so early on in his life. A heavy feeling weighs over you as you follow him to the ambulance that he’s being led to by paramedics. You give silent nods of acknowledgment to other Protectors when you cross their paths. You try your best to offer reassurance to dejected-looking Protectors whenever you notice them lingering. When the day is over, and Shota is curled up on a bed trying to deal with his emotions, you almost dread what the future may hold for this lifetime.

𖤛 𖤛 𖤛

Years pass by, and you watch Shota shape into an amazing Hero and person. You feel some relief when Shota accepts a teaching position at the same school he graduated from. You hope that maybe he would mostly stay out of trouble being a teacher versus being a Hero full-time. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that this lifetime has been really making you put in the work toward keeping Shota safe.

School year after school year, you watch Shota intimidate his students and make drastic decisions geared toward helping them realize the path they’ve chosen to pursue. It can be said that his methods are harsh, but you know that he is just trying to help them understand the realities of becoming a Hero. Oftentimes, you think back to the day he lost his friend, and it feels as though you are the only one to see his reasoning.

The day you walk into the classroom for Class 1-A behind Shota, you are interested in what he has planned for this new group of students. The year prior he expelled his entire class, which had even thrown you off a bit. As he gives his introduction, you scan the small sea of students and their Protectors. Most of the Protectors appear neutral, almost laid back for the moment, but a few catch your attention.

The Protector standing near a boy with a scar on his face seems to be wilted, their helplessness almost making their ethereal glow dim to nothing. The Protector to the left of a boy with green hair appears to be harshly glaring at the blonde boy in front of the green-haired child. Meanwhile, the spiky-haired blonde boy’s Protector seems to be exhausted, and from the aura the boy gives off, you wonder if the exhaustion is from protecting him or just observing him. Lastly, the Protector standing near the blonde boy seated closest to the door is rather.. shifty, like they’re nervous. Their gaze keeps darting around the room to look at the other Protectors, then back down to the boy they are paired with.

You understand that as children, none of the students really pose any threat to Shota, but you find that it’s still best to be on higher alert if a human’s Protector is acting strangely. Especially in this lifetime and with all of the many Quirks you’ve seen from being by Shota’s side. You’d much rather err on the side of caution than ignore a potential threat.

By the end of the first day, you’re quite surprised that Shota only expelled one student this year. The short boy seemed quite upset when he learned of his expulsion, but his Protector seemed to have slumped with relief. It made you wonder just what that Protector had observed of the boy throughout his life. Regardless, seeing the posture of the Protectors near each of the female students ease at the news of the boy’s expulsion was enough for you to agree with Shota’s decision.

The second day doesn’t go as smoothly as you or Shota had hoped. Shota wasn’t in any danger, thankfully, he just slept peacefully in the teacher’s lounge while a Hero called All Might took over the class. When Shota was awoken by his phone ringing, it was Recovery Girl informing him that one of his students was very injured during the battle training All Might was supervising. You could practically feel Shota’s worry and anger as you followed behind him as he made his way to the infirmary.

After watching Shota give All Might a stern talking-to for letting the students go that far during training, you followed him back to his classroom. You listened idly by as he announced that he would be taking the class on a trip to a facility called the USJ in a couple of days. Most of the students cheered and voiced their excitement over going on a field trip, but Shota was quick to quiet them. He made it clear to the class that it wasn’t going to be a leisurely trip, but another means of Hero training. With most of the class deflated down into more of a serious state, he dismissed them for the day.

𖤛 𖤛 𖤛

The day of the trip arrives without much fanfare, and you stay dutifully by Shota’s side as he leans back against the seat of the bus and naps. Vehicles such as buses were always an interesting environment to be in as a Protector. Looking over your shoulder at the rows of seated students, you see each of their Protectors lining the middle aisle. While your kind doesn’t really exist on the same plane of existence as humans, your ethereal bodies are comparable to what humans call ghosts, you still prefer not to be phasing in and out of a human body.

As the bus slows to a stop, Shota awakens and stands to face the class. He tells them to be on their best behavior and to focus on learning all that they can today. You make your way off of the bus with Shota leading the way and his students following behind. You and Shota walk up to the doors of the USJ, joining up with another Hero dressed in a spacesuit.

The spacesuit Hero, Thirteen, cheerfully greets the students and then begins explaining the purpose of the USJ. They get serious while explaining that there are a lot of dangerous Quirks out in the world that have the potential to be deadly before showing and explaining their own Quirk. Your gaze sweeps over the students, and you find that most of their Protectors are absentmindedly nodding and checking to see if their humans understand the warning being given.

Soon enough, Thirteen pushes the doors to the USJ open, leading Shota and his students into the facility. The students audibly marvel at the inside of the USJ and its different disaster zones. Thirteen gets into explaining what the different zones are and the unique difficulties that come with each zone. When they finish, they look to Shota and he nods at them before beginning to tell the students who would be in which zone. Shota gets interrupted by a red-haired student, their Protector pointing to something behind you and Shota. When you turn around to see what the Protector is pointing at, your intuition and protective instincts flare to max levels.

A massive portal has opened up down in the center plaza of the USJ and sketchy-looking humans have begun pouring out. You hear Shota identify them as villains and you gear yourself up for the fighting he will inevitably engage in. As expected, Shota yells for the students to stay with Thirteen and rushes into battle. You follow closely behind him, confident in his fighting abilities and quick reflexes.. But, you know that even if he isn’t aware of your existence or the parameters of your job, he does rely on you to watch his back.

Being a Hero’s Protector is no easy feat since villains have their own Protectors. Your kind have a job to do, no matter the human you are paired with. A villain’s Protector will protect them just as fiercely as a Hero’s. That said, since being Shota’s Protector in this lifetime, you’ve worked harder to become faster at alerting Shota to danger. More often than not, you can get Shota’s attention and help him to strike before a villain’s Protector can warn them.

As Shota is taking down villain after villain, you take a brief moment to look toward three unmoving villains. The one with multiple severed hands clutching his body scratches at his neck wildly as his Protector stands near him. You notice something strange about the other two near the Hand Villain, though.. While they both seem to be alive, neither of them has a Protector within sight. It’s unusual for your kind to stray very far from the human they are paired with, so not seeing a Protector right next to either villain is very abnormal.

In your momentary distraction, Shota takes down two more thugs and is rushed by the Hand Villain. Disappointment, in yourself, floods you as you watch Shota blink and his Quirk deactivate. The Hand Villain monologues as the spot where his hand is on Shota’s elbow begins to crack and flake away until the muscle underneath is showing. Shota reactivates his Quirk and breaks away from the Hand Villain, but his groans of pain echo in your mind. Berating yourself for being so careless, you stick closer to his side as more low-level thugs surround him.

The Hand Villain continues his annoying chatter as Shota, tired and worn out as he is, fights off the thugs using his good arm. His elbow looks bad, and you feel like you’ve failed him. You work harder to give him every sign and warning possible to take down the thugs relentlessly rushing him. Difficult as it is with one arm, Shota succeeds and turns to face the Hand Villain, putting you both back to back. Horror fills you along with the urgent and intense need to warn Shota, but with the state he’s in, he misses sign after sign that you send his way. He doesn’t notice the hulking beast behind him until the Hand Villain says something.

Despair like nothing you’ve ever felt before fills you as you watch the monstrous creature beat Shota down like he’s nothing but a small bug under someone’s boot. You scream, but the echoing ethereal sound only catches the attention of other Protectors around you. You flinch every time you hear the snapping of bone and cry of pain. The ethereal glow of your body dims from the feeling of failure filling you, and when the merciless creature slams Shota’s face into the ground you think only one thought…

‘Shota is going to die today…’

Falling to your knees next to Shota, you’re gaze is too focused on the growing puddle of blood on the ground to realize that the monster leaves Shota to defend the Hand Villain. Apologies spill from your lips over and over again as you continue looking at his limp and broken form. You can feel that he is dying and for some reason, it causes you immense pain. It’s a pain unlike anything you’ve ever felt before with any other soul, or during any of his other lifetimes. Everything else going on near or around you becomes irrelevant as you place a hand on Shota’s head, your touch light enough to not phase through him.

You startle when you feel the touch of a hand on each of your shoulders and looking up, you find a Protector on either side of you. You also notice that three of Shota’s students, the green-haired boy, the girl with the frog Quirk, and the boy with the tape Quirk, are carefully lifting him. The three students’ Protectors help you up off of your knees and walk with you when the students start moving toward the entrance of the USJ.

“Fret not, he may still have a chance…”

“You did all that you could…”

“His will was to protect those students, and you helped him achieve that…”

The echoing ethereal tones of the three Protectors walking with you fill your ears, but you find it difficult to take comfort in their words. Words that you’ve said to so many others before. Words that you’ve found comfort within before when you were feeling far less pain than you are right now. You can’t find it in yourself to respond to the other Protectors, so you just continue to walk in solemn silence.

At some point, the green-haired boy and his Protector break away to head back to the fight, leaving the other two students to carry Shota to the entrance. When they finally get up the steps and rejoin the small group of other students, they carefully lay Shota’s body down next to Thirteen who also seems to be injured greatly. You gaze down at Shota numbly, unable to comprehend why you feel so.. broken.

“What the hell is going on..?”

You startle as a sudden presence from beside you speaks. Recognizing the voice, your head whips to the side in complete shock. Standing there right next to you is Shota, looking far more translucent than he usually does. You just stare at him in shock and disbelief, your mouth agape and eyes blinking owlishly.

“Who the hell are you? Is this some kind of Quirk? Are you one of the villains?” Shota asks, his tone is demanding and quite confused, not that you blame him.

“Y-you.. you can see me?…” You ask, disbelief and confusion coloring your ethereal voice. Now, at this moment, in this lifetime, you have so many questions as you also wonder what the hell is going on.

“Uhm.. yeah. I can see you.” Shota says with uncharacteristic uncertainty. Apparently deeming you non-threatening, his posture deflates into resignation as his gaze sweeps across his students, “So.. are you here to take me wherever it is dead people go?”

Sadness creeps back into you and you look back down at his broken body, shaking your head, “No, I.. I only protect… Escorting the dead is not part of the job…”

“Protect?” Shota questions quietly as he looks back at you. “What, like a.. Guardian Angel?” The skeptical tone in Shota’s voice makes the corners of your mouth tick up ever so slightly because even though he is quite literally dying, of course, he is trying to be rational right now.

You meet his eyes with a slightly amused look in yours, “You humans have many names for my kind, ‘Guardian Angel’ is one of them… Many are like me; uncaring of what we are called, just here to do our job…”

Shota still looks skeptical, but he nods his head, “Does this normally happen when a person dies? We get to meet our.. Guardian Angels before we move onto whatever afterlife is out there?”

You shake your head and look back down at his body, “This has never happened to me before… We are not meant to be seen by humans, dead or alive.. and technically, you are not dead… Your body is struggling, but you are still alive…”

You pause for a moment as the weight of your failure falls back over your shoulders, almost tenfold. You speak again before Shota has the chance, your tone heavy with sadness, “I am so sorry, Shota… I should have done more to keep you safe… It is my fault that you are in this position… I failed you…”

Silence hangs between you both as you watch paramedics move Shota’s body onto a stretcher. They spend a few moments wrapping his injuries with makeshift bandages and attaching various equipment to him. When they begin moving him to an ambulance, you step forward to follow but are stopped when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder. It’s different than the cold feeling of another Protector’s touch and stops you in your tracks. You turn slightly, your wide eyes meeting Shota’s uncharacteristically soft ones.

“You.. I’d like to think that you did your best to protect me, and whatever happens to me.. just know that I don’t blame you.” Shota’s gentle tone catches you off guard and also strikes something deep within you. The most you can muster is a shaky nod before you both begin to head for the ambulance his body was taken to.

Divider Credit ~ @cafekitsune

[sincerelyneo]

little run down: i want to thank the wonderful @hazyhae for tagging me to do this—it looked super fun, and i think it’s so cute to reflect on your works. i will say, though, my layout won’t be anywhere near as cute as theirs because i’m lazy and completely lacking any once of artistic talent. so we’re stuck with comic sans.

i didn’t write as much as i wanted to this year, and i went MIA for six months without a word—sorryy. but somehow, i still ended up with a total of 23 works. if you’d like to check them out, i have a very interesting masterlist for you to peruse.

“every fic you write is a song fic”…well sorta kinda 😋

FIRST WORK OF 2024: woman- renjun (27/3)

notes: i wrote this because i’m a firm believer that renjun is so hs1 coded. i was obsessed with the line “i’m selfish, i know” from woman, so it felt fitting.

my writing in this just annoys me, like paige shut uppp and stop yapping, my lord. my earlier fics are so wordy and long winded and it bothers me so much.

LAST WORKS OF 2024: igloo - renjun (17/11)

notes: started with renjun and finished with renjun yup. i love kiof, and when i heard igloo, i was like, this needs a fic—but i couldn’t settle on an idea i liked. originally, it was gonna be a toxic enemies-with-benefits fic for jeno, but i scrapped it because i wasn’t feeling it. then all of a sudden, it was november, and everyone and their mothers were writing nnn fics, and i was like… hm, okay.

i’m not really a lover of no nut november fics, but the lyrics were too fitting for the idea i settled on. so, alas—igloo.

LONGEST FIC OF 2024: fireproof - jeno (8.4k)

notes: is this cheating because i technically posted it in 2023 on my old blog? yeah. but it’s my wrapped, and i make the rules. my blog is a dictatorship, and whatever i say goes. also, if i hadn’t picked this, woman was the next longest, and i’ve already talked about her.

my writing in this is honestly horrific, and i think my old blog fics make me feel the most insecure as a writer. still, so many people asked me to repost it here, so i did—but i really wish i’d edited it first lol.

SHORTEST FIC OF 2024: sunflower vol 6 - hyuck (1.4k)

notes: harry styles wrote this song about haechan and i think about that all the time so i wanted to write something short and sweet. this is my only sfw fic as of now…

MOST POPULAR OF 2024: mad at you - mark

notes: umm…thank u for making this my most popular fic. ily <3

one thing about me… i’m a sucker for miscommunication, angst, and arguing in my fan fiction. a third-act breakup? sign me the hell up every single time. i love that this is my most popular fic of the year because i love the hurt/comfort trope.

PERSONAL FAVE OF 2024: heaven - chenle

notes: chenle is my bias, and it’s so hard to find fics where he’s a silly, lovesick lover boy, so i had to take matters into my own hands. i know i literally just said i love angst, but sometimes all a girl wants is tooth-rotting fluff with her smut, and i think i pulled that off pretty well in this fic. idk…

notes: i posted at least 3 fics for each member this year because i have a lot of ideas, and i like to spread them evenly—i also know the struggle of trying to find fics for your bias. however, hyuck + chenle definitely got a little more love (nobody’s surprised).

haechan (5 fics total: 12.1k words)

chenle (4 fics total: 16.0k words)

warning: i can be a little flaky with my writing. sometimes an idea hits, and i’ll write it in one sitting; other times, i’ll start something and forget about it for months. so, don’t be too disappointed if some of these never see the light of day.

guilty as sin? — park jisung (college!au, golden boy x nerd)

The hot upperclassman on the basketball team is every girl's fantasy - well yours. He's tall, and sweet and lean and hot and the object of all your late-night scenarios. And you like it like that. He's simply a thought, a dream, escapism and completely unaware of your existence. Well, he was, until you're assigned to tutor him. And now you have to teach the guy you've been getting off to at night how to do algebra...or fail the class yourself.

unadulterated loathing — na jaemin (enemies to lovers)

Every winter break, you and your best friends rent a cabin to escape the stress of college for a week. Except this year, your best friend is bringing her new boyfriend, Jeno, and with him comes his best friend, Jaemin—the one person you cannot stand.

ballad of a homeschooled girl — lee haechan (college!au)

Jumping from 18 years of homeschooling to living in college dorms would be hard for anyone; so imagine that mixed with a party animal roommate, a first crush and the cocky arrogant Lee Haechan who you just keep running into at inconvenient times. And he’s so irritating. Ugh. Could this get anymore awkward? 

if you steal my fic ideas i will be in your walls. 🤨

oh and…i forgot to mention: @sincerelyriize

[lily-alphonse]

what if... shane and mr. qi

Bro what 😭 I know absolutely nothing about Mr. Qi. BUT I have like 2 or 3 more asks with him in it so it looks like Im gonna have to build a characterization for him real quick lol. I love him though. Love a weird little cryptid man and the fanart is so good.

What interest would he have in Shane I wonder? Maybe it's an AU where Shane is the one to take over the farm and everything so he's secretly special. OR... Mr. Qi just enjoys watching a dumpsterfire. There's no TLC in Stardew Valley so what better reality TV content than to watch the town drunk? Maybe even make things a little worse for him sometimes just for funsies.

You know how in the Sims, if you have an unlucky Sim they can cheat death because Grim either pities or is amused by their shenanigans? That's the dynamic I think. Shane is so unlucky that Qi finds him endearing over time.

Qi would start to leave notes for him, trying to send him on adventures or test him. Shane would have none of it, crumbling the weird notes and suspecting someone was playing some kind of prank on him. Qi gets annoyed about it. Enough to even reveal himself, but he picks (what may or may not be) the best time because Shane is so drunk he doesn't even care.

Mr. Qi almost blends into the darkness by the dock, except his cape shimmers with moonlight and catches Shane's eye. He approaches him when he's discovered.

"Shane," he says in greeting.

It makes Shane wonder if he knows him. Then he wonders if he should be worried about this random shady character approaching him. But he also looks kinda silly, a wide hat and sunglasses obscuring his face, and the most obvious answer is that he’s finally snapped.

Shane narrows his eyes at him, trying to decide what to name this odd figment of his imagination. "Mr..." he starts, and Mr. Qi is almost ready to be impressed until Shane settles on "Hat."

Qi isn't sure whether to laugh or disappear in a rage.

A sort of scoff comes out instead and he sits next to him on the dock. 

"Where did you come from?" Shane asks.

"I come from everywhere." 

"Figures," Shane mumbles into his beer can. He downs another drink. "You're not gonna be some kind of like... conscious that talks in riddles or something are you?"

It feels appropriate, almost making them equals, for Shane to see him as an imaginary friend. It makes up for the way Qi had started to see him as a pet. 

"Not a conscious, though I might speak in riddles occasionally."

“Dammit. Tracks I guess. Can never make sense of any of the shit up here,” he mumbles, gesturing to his head.

Qi had been planning to ask him about the notes, maybe even scare him a little. But here he was being handed the golden opportunity to see into Shane’s mind, and that was even better.

Actually, being an unknown, an enigma, had always been the goal. Short of that,he was forced to keep a carefully curated reputation of mystery, which was not at all the same. Meeting in this way turned out to be a blessing.

“Why do you think you’ve summoned me here?”

“I'm drunk.”

“I can see that.”

“I dunno, I'm pathetically lonely," he says with an exasperated sigh, "Obviously.”

Qi feels a twinge of something unnameable at that, though it's still pretty amusing. He likes the blunt way Shane speaks, especially when he puts himself down, its pure dark-comedy gold. It feels different when directed at him personally though. Like some long-dormant human urge within him makes his heart ache to match Shane’s.

“Are you?” he asks simply.

"D'you have eyes under there?" Shane slurs, looking at him more closely.

"Would you have made me without eyes?"

"Good point. The fuck are we talking about? Who are you?"

"Mr. Hat, apparently."

"Right."

Anyway, they continue to meet like this, with Mr. Qi as his supposed imaginary friend, and Mr. Qi begins to genuinely enjoy the connection they have because no one has ever treated him like this. Everyone he meets is intimidated by him, afraid of him, or looking to screw him over. And beyond that, when he was younger and more human, it was always people wanting to know him. Always so many questions.

His goal was always to be unknown.

He gets that with Shane, under the pretext that he does not exist. It’s freeing, and paradoxically allows him to open up. Any perceived oddity about him only gets turned into a reflection on the darkness in Shane’s mind. In this way, Shane might know him in a deeper sense than anyone else has in a long time. Plus, Qi doesn’t laugh this much with anyone else.  

Shane wants to be unknown too, in his own way. But he starts to hate himself a little less, after these late night talks to ‘himself’. Weirdly he starts drinking less and the hallucination stays. 

I think there would be quite a dramatic falling out when he finds out the truth, but in a way, Shane would also be relieved that this was a real person he could potentially be with.

This ask is a part of the (now closed) SDV Rarepair Challenge! Check out the other answers here, and make sure to boost your favorite so it can appear in the final fic poll! More info on that here.

[aventurineswife]

....hcs of aventurine and kaveh (separately) being smooched out of the blue by reader because they find the blondes so pretty they couldnt help themselves? and they are in an established relationship too

Chuu! <3

Summary: Giving your partner a smooch out of the blue! How do they react?

Tags: Kaveh x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Romantic Affection, Established Relationship, Surprise Kisses, Lighthearted Moments, Emotional Vulnerability (In Aventurine's part).

A/N: I love you for this request 😋💖 and I love my blond hair wives 🫶💖, Also my first time writing for another fandom (of Hoyo lol) so I hope I did Kaveh's character right :')

Shoutout to this anon too, I hope you're happy now 👁️👁️

Kaveh

When you lean in for a sudden smooch or kiss, Kaveh’s eyes widen, and he's utterly stunned for a moment. The surprise leaves him flushed, but he quickly melts into a soft, almost sheepish smile, still processing how much he treasures these spontaneous moments.

While he adores your affection, Kaveh often half-heartedly protests, "You really shouldn't do this out of nowhere!"—but the slight tremble in his voice and the blush on his cheeks betray his words. He’s always secretly thrilled by your impulsiveness, even if he acts like he's composed.

His gaze softens, and he studies your face with a quiet reverence, feeling blessed that someone sees him as beautiful (as you 🫶) and loves him this freely. Your impromptu kisses serve as a reminder of the unconditional support he’s sometimes too humble to accept.

He later ponders over what that random kiss “meant,” thinking maybe he’d done something special to deserve it. “Was it the way I fixed that roof design, or…?” He gets so lost in these spirals that it often brings out his gentle, somewhat neurotic side.

That sudden display of affection inspires him to sketch or design something with you in mind, capturing the happiness he feels. In those moments, he’s convinced you’re his muse—each kiss bringing him closer to translating love into art.

Aventurine

At first, he just smirks, acting like your spontaneous kiss is nothing he couldn’t handle, teasing you with a "Oh, couldn’t resist, huh?" But the slight pink dusting his cheeks gives away how much he actually loves it, even if he pretends he’s unfazed.

Aventurine doesn’t settle for just one surprise kiss; instead, he leans closer with a challenging look, daring you to kiss him again. His mischievous nature shines, and he’s thrilled by how easy it is for you to fluster him—though he’d never admit it.

In quieter moments after the kiss, a more vulnerable side emerges, and he glances away briefly, as if hiding an ache he can’t quite voice. He’s not used to being loved so simply and openly, which both warms and unnerves him.

He’ll up the ante, pulling you close and playfully declaring that the next kiss will be on his terms, turning your affectionate moment into a game. Every kiss feels like a bet he’s willing to risk everything on.

Although he doesn’t show it outwardly, he stores these memories like cherished possessions, savoring each one for the comfort it brings. To him, each random kiss is a small victory, a reminder that, no matter how risky life gets, he has someone to return to.

[radawaycunt]

Santa Comunione

Part II // Hannibal Lecter x Fem!Reader

Also on AO3

Part I

Summary: Hannibal Lecter often does things just to see what happens… and seducing a holy woman is one of those things.

WC: 6.1k words

Overall Warnings: MINORS DNI THIS FIC IS 18+, Corruption, Blasphemy (?), Religious Imagery, Italy arc (Rome instead of Florence), Canon divergence, Self-Harm, Some whump, Angst, Eventual smut, religious trauma (i think?), I’m not a religious expert btw tho i grew up Catholic, mentions of wounds and scars, Ofc Hannibal has a God complex, Vague Catholicism, reader is a nun lol, lmk if i missed anything!

----

“Like a lily among the thorns,

So is my darling among the maidens.”

-Song of Solomon 2:2

The note, just like all the others, had been neatly folded and tucked into a hiding spot you were sure to find. It had become like a game at that point, even if you always knew where to look.

This time, you found it right at the base of the statue of St. Teresa, near the petrified swish of her marble skirts. It seemed significant enough to make your heart skip a beat, especially given the message.

Though he never signed his name, you’d memorized his elegant penmanship, swooping and yet also contained in its preciseness. It made the words feel more powerful, somehow. You gingerly traced your fingers over them, as if hoping to find more pieces of him there.

At first, the notes were wholly platonic. Mostly verses that were meant to inspire in some way or another, but sometimes snippets of poems found their way in, too. 

Over time, they got slightly more daring, even if they were from the same source. You had always admired boldness, as he well knew. You could even imagine the sly upturn of his lips while you read them, over and over again. 

Had he suspected that a tingle would begin between your shoulder blades, quickly suppressed before becoming a full shiver? Or that heat would creep up your neck and flush your cheeks?

He wouldn’t be too far off.

Something tender had been blossoming within you, but instead of weeding it out, you found yourself… nurturing it. Succumbing to it, even.

Could something like that really be so terrible? It was certainly worth the pain of the aftermath.

You tucked the note into a hidden pocket in your shift,  biting your bottom lip to keep your excited grin under control.

On the days you received notes, he’d show up later in the evening to walk you home. You knew that as a doctor he led a busy life, but he always made time to see you at least twice a week.

You never asked what he was up to whenever he was absent, but sometimes you did wonder. Whenever you were together, though, you settled for simply enjoying every second of his company. 

You’d walk at a languorous pace, sometimes even braving to hold onto his arm, but that was the extent of your physical contact. Without counting the time he’d patched you up, of course.

Despite how things had progressed, he was still a gentleman.  He understood the importance of discretion as well as you, and that only made these rendezvous more exciting.

The last few hours of the day were torturous, especially since you kept glancing at the clock. Its slow, steady ticking seemed to mock you, so you tried distracting yourself as best as possible.

By closing time, your hands were trembling in anticipation. Still, you pretended to be busy wrapping up as you heard his patient footfalls cross the threshold. 

“Almost done,” you called over your shoulder, offering a covert smile that was reserved for only him.

You went to grab your belongings before quickly re-emerging, and he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on. 

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”  he sighed, further driving his point across by drinking you in.

You averted your gaze demurely, guiding him out into the warm evening air. “Long day?”

“Longer than I care to admit, but suddenly it doesn’t seem to matter.”

This made you look up at him, and your eyes snagged on something uncharacteristic.

“It explains why you’ve not matched your tie and handkerchief today,” you pointed out teasingly. 

He let out an amused huff, offering you his arm. You threaded your hand into the crook of it without thinking, pressing just a little closer.

“There’s a reason for that, actually,” he said. “You happen to have the matching handkerchief.”

“Oh, I do, don’t I?” You mused, pretending to have forgotten about it, even if it was in your satchel at that very moment. “I apologize, it slipped my mind. I’ll get it to you next time we see each other.”

“Will you?” He tilted his head to one side, raising an eyebrow.

You pursed your lips for a moment, frowning.  Before you could pull away, he lightly pressed his arm against his side, effectively trapping your hand in place.

You let out an irritated huff, staring ahead.“So you think me a thief now?”

He chuckled. “Not at all. I was merely curious.”

“Seems like you feel that way about me most of the time.”

He studied your profile, still grinning. “Can I ask you an uncomfortable question?”

“Sure, why stop now?” 

“Are you clinging to this material possession because it’s a reminder of the kind gesture behind it?”

You thought about it for a moment, unsure of how to answer. The way he posed the question made you suspect he already knew it, but he wanted to hear what you would come up with. 

You opted for being honest, still feeling like you’d been caught red-handed.

“I suppose… It has brought me some comfort, the same way my rosary does. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Your cheeks were ablaze under his amused scrutiny, but you still didn’t meet his eye.

“I was hoping it was something of that nature,” he said finally, arm relaxing.

You didn’t withdraw, but your pride made you remain obstinate. “Now I must insist on returning it as soon as possible.”

“If you’re so adamant… Why don’t you come to my apartment tomorrow? I’ll be around all day taking care of some things,” he offered. “Plus, I need to see how your back is progressing. Some privacy would be nice, don’t you think?”

You weighed the offer, both thrilled and terrified at how big of a step it would be. You definitely didn’t want the madre superiora to start asking questions about the checkups, so this was the only other option. 

Besides, you trusted him. He’d taken his time to earn it, despite your skittishness. With his gentle care, his steady patience, and his efforts to truly see you. The one hidden beneath layers of armor and biting remarks.

And so, the words left your mouth with little reluctance. “Yes, tomorrow works.”

——

It wasn’t until you were in front of the mahogany door, fist raised to knock, that you remembered missing a crucial part of that day’s meeting — setting up a time.

On the one hand, he did say he’d be home all day, but on the other… would he find it in poor taste that you showed up unannounced? Though to be fair, it’d be even more rude not to show up at all…

Before you let your thoughts spiral further, you decided to just suck it up and get it over with. After all, you didn’t really want to leave after making the trip all the way there.

At the first few knocks, the door creaked open slightly, but no one was behind it. You peered through the slit, only seeing the edges of a lavishly decorated living room. 

“Hannibal?” You called tentatively, pushing the door further open.

No response, just an eerie silence. 

You took a step inside, quickly glancing around. No one seemed to be around, and there were no signs of a break-in, which only confused you further.

You thought it might be best to leave his handkerchief along with a note explaining what happened, so you searched for a pen and paper in a nearby cabinet.

In an adjacent room, you could suddenly hear a light thud. It was quiet again for a moment, but then another thud followed, loud enough for you to confirm you weren’t imagining things.

Curiosity overrode your senses and you slid closer to the source of the sound. Just a little down the hallway, you were met with another half-open door — the bifold kind, made of wood and intricately etched glass.

Through a small gap, you could see just a fraction of what seemed to be Hannibal’s bedroom, with the aforementioned sitting at the edge of his bed. His back was to you as he gazed out the window, shoulders slightly hunched forward.

Without thinking, you started to reach for the door’s handle, but a new sound startled you — Labored breathing, interrupted only by a soft, needy whimper. 

You blinked, not daring to believe what you’d heard. It had to be a hallucination; A lustful dream. Perhaps your spirit had risen while you slept and wandered the darkness to find him.

But no, the chill that went through you was as real as day. Your entire body turned to stone as you registered the placement of his hand, and how it was moving at a slow, steady rhythm. 

Your first instinct should have been to turn away, make your presence known and wait in the safety of the other room. To fight against the siren’s lure of his voice in such a vulnerable, uninhibited state.

Instead, you covered your mouth with one hand, unable to tear your gaze away. A tingling sensation began in your extremities as another moan escaped him, followed by what seemed to be an obscenity in a language you did not know.

You shifted infinitesimally, trying to get a better look while remaining hidden. You gripped the doorframe with your free hand, fearing your legs would give out. 

Unbeknownst to you, Hannibal had smelled you as soon as you’d walked into the apartment — soap and incense and just a hint of rosewater. 

His grip on himself tightened as he noted the heady, unmistakable scent of your arousal. 

How he wished that he could bury his face at the source of it and get utterly lost in you;To feel his head cradled by your thighs while he showed you what real paradise was.

His breaths began coming out in short pants, his movements becoming more frantic and desperate. His hips rolled, too, bucking up to meet the movements of his hand as he chased his release.

You could only see part of his profile, his eyes closed and his mouth slack in mindless pleasure. His hips stuttered and he made a sound like a man agonized, weak to his carnal desires. A word that sounded suspiciously close to your name spilled from his lips as he climaxed, the image searing into your mind forever.

It continued to sing in your veins as you snapped back into reality. Your heart was pounding in your ears, so loud you feared it might give you away. 

Automatically, you extricated yourself away from the door and scurried back down the hall. In your haste, you failed to notice his handkerchief falling out of your pocket, right in the middle of the living room.

You shut the front door as quietly as you could, hoping no neighbors saw you making your escape. As you navigated through the streets back home, it all replayed in your mind over and over again, keeping you alight.

You kept your head down the entire way, avoiding eye contact at all costs, lest somebody see the fire in your gaze.

———

A week passed, and there was no word from him. You did not try to reach out to him, either, engulfed in an amalgamation of conflicting emotions.

Your days were spent trying to keep your mind blank, so you took on twice as many tasks. But whenever there was a lull between them, your thoughts would unerringly return to him.

Even in dreams, you were plagued by the memory of him. Most nights, you’d wake up with thighs slicked together, but you hadn’t done anything about the pulsating issue between your legs. You kept your windows open so that the nocturnal breeze might soothe your feverish skin, but it only helped marginally.

At mass, you wondered about the taste of him as you drank communion wine; The feel of his warm skin on your tongue as the wafer was placed upon it. 

You’d become a real heathen, it seemed. Or perhaps you never stopped being one, not even after years of donning the costume of innocence.

Your longing was so vivid that sometimes, the breeze felt like an echo of his touch. It caressed your skin coolly, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It was in those moments that it was easiest to close your eyes and let your mind drift. 

Your hand would wander, resting on your inner thigh — close enough, but still on the safe side. You could feel the heat emanating from your core, further enticing your fingers to inch closer.  Possibly the hardest test of your self-restraint, but you weren’t too sure it was making you any stronger. 

What made things worse, you hadn’t noticed the handkerchief’s disappearance until you’d made it back to the convent.  In a panicked frenzy, you’d retraced your steps looking for it, praying that it was somewhere on the road. 

But, just as you deserved,  your prayers hadn’t been answered.

You’d made it all the way back to his apartment, but this time, the door had been firmly shut. It made dread pool in your stomach, and his subsequent absence only exacerbated it. 

Was it really the end? You wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to you again.

Still, you searched all the usual hiding spots for notes every day, but always came up empty. It felt like a spear through the heart each time, but you tried to bury it deep within.

Until one night, when your self-restraint was at its most fragile and you were trying to digest the idea you might not see him again, your resolve simply shattered.

Your fingers crossed into forbidden territory, and at the first tingle of pleasure, your movements became frantic and desperate. You surrendered to it, losing all other sense. It had been much too long since you had last done it, and all the times you had suppressed yourself had accumulated inside you. 

Once you’d started, it was hard to stop. At the same time, the release wasn’t delayed at all. In fact, it hit you hard and fast, but it did not seem like enough. If anything, it seemed to only whet that yawning appetite of yours even further. 

In the morning, you’d scrubbed your skin raw under a hot stream of water. You attempted to erase any sort of trace of the sins clinging to you, incensed by the fact that you didn’t even think it had been worth it – not at your own hands. 

But how could you ever confess to such a thing? You could barely even—

“May I see it? I’ll need you to take your shoes off so I can assess the damage, Sorella.”

You stopped in your tracks, petrified in the middle of the hallway. You’d recognize that voice anywhere, but it seemed surreal at that moment, especially drifting out of one of the other nun’s rooms. 

You spotted the madre superiora stepping out of said room, and you approached under the guise of benign curiosity. 

Peering into the room, you saw Hannibal kneeling next to the bed. One of his legs was propped up and the sorella carefully set her swollen ankle on his thigh. He examined it delicately, his fingers featherlight on her tender skin.

A sharp bitterness coated your throat and when you swallowed hard, you felt it spreading to your stomach. You tried to control your breathing, trying to keep your grip on your mask of concern.

“Everything okay, Francesca?” You asked her in Italian, keeping your eyes on her. “What happened?”

“Tripped and twisted my ankle,” she responded in the same language, grimacing as he moved her foot slightly to look at it from another angle.

He didn’t look up, but he was still keenly aware of your presence. He smelled the soap and the incriminating scent beneath it, which made him tense a little. 

The ghost of a smile barely made the corners of his lips twitch, but you weren’t sure if you were imagining things. You plastered on a sympathetic grin of your own.

“You’re in good hands, I’m sure you’ll feel better in no time,” you said through your teeth, and you thought you saw him glance through the corner of his eye at you.

“Grazie, Sorella.”

With a nod, you continued on your way, heading down to the kitchen. It was your turn to help with dinner prep, so you’d have some time alone while everyone else worked.

The old kitchen had stone walls and floors, which preserved coolness and provided relief from the heat outside. It was quiet and cozy, probably the best place for you to be in at that moment. 

You started a fire on the old stove and placed a large copper pot full of water atop it. You tried to let your thoughts slip away as you washed and peeled carrots and potatoes. All the years of training yourself to go into autopilot certainly helped, but that same bitter taste was still coating your insides. 

It was after a couple of minutes that you heard footsteps descending the stairs into the kitchen. You didn’t think much of it, staying focused on your task, but then you registered a tall figure stop at the threshold.

 “It seems that I missed you the other day,” you heard him say. “Regardless, thank you for the handkerchief.”

Your gaze snapped up to him, eyes wide and flickering with a primal sort of fear. For a moment you could only stare, caught like a deer in headlights. He only stared back, challenging.

You tilted your head slightly to the side, resuming your task, your grip all too strong. “Don’t you have a patient to attend to, Doctor?”

“I needed to get some ice for Sister Francesca’s foot,” he explained. “Though I am glad I can also check in with my favorite patient. I haven’t been able to see the progress of your wounds for some time now…”

You shrugged, petulant. “I’m in one piece, am I not?”

There was a momentary pause in which the tension was becoming more and more palpable.

He broke the silence. “I sense you’re upset with me about something.”

“I am not upset. Merely working, as are you.”

“I see… Well, would you mind showing me where I can get the ice, please?”

“Allow me,” you sighed. 

You set down what you were working on and stood up from the rickety wooden stool you sat on. Wordlessly, you had him hand you the small bowl he carried and slipped over to the freezer. You bent down a little to reach the ice, still silent as you filled up the bowl for him.

“Here you go, Doc—”

As you turned around, you nearly bumped right into him. You let out a startled gasp, given that you hadn’t even heard him approach behind you.  You took a small step back, nervously glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one else was coming.

“Thank you kindly,” he said, taking the bowl back but not moving an inch otherwise.

His amber eyes held yours, incandescent once more with desire. You swallowed hard, a knot twisting in your stomach riotously. You clenched and unclenched your fists at your sides.

“Is that it?” You whispered.

He took a step closer and you backed up once more, your back pressing against the freezer. Your heart leaped to your throat — an appropriate response for a cornered lamb with almost nonexistent chances of escape.

“No, I don’t think I’m quite done here yet,” he responded, his voice equally low.

You shuddered. “What is this? What are these games you’re trying to play with me?”

He tilted his head in silent question.

“You know what I’m talking about. All along, you have charmed me. You have led me astray by the heartstrings and—and you have incited sinful ideas in my mind, tainting me!”

He had the gall to smile slyly, eyes narrowing slightly. “And how, pray tell, have I done that?”

You pursed your lips, having already spoken too much for your own liking. He smiled, a little too smug.

“No? You don’t wish to tell me?” He pressed. “I know why. You wouldn’t be able to deny that you hid behind my door, silent as a church mouse, and watched me during a most intimate moment?”

He leaned in closer, effectively looming over you. “You wouldn’t deny it, because you were taught lying is a sin.”

You let out a pitiful sound, something between a sharp exhale and a whimper. The two of you stood there in the charged silence, searching each other’s gazes. He reached down for your hand and slowly brought it up to his face, only closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply.

Then, you felt the gentle brush of his full lips against the pads of your fingers, kissing softly. You felt his tongue lightly trace your ring finger and sparks shot down your spine, threatening to make you spasm violently.

“Was this the hand you used when you thought of that moment?” He murmured.

You couldn’t react. You couldn’t move. You could barely even breathe. 

He pressed one more kiss on your hand before calmly letting it go at your side. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something and yet also unsure of what it should be. He understood all the same, seeing everything he needed to know written on your face. 

“Thank you again for the ice,” he said with a wink.

With that, he departed, leaving you still trying to pull your thoughts into order.

——

“Therefore, behold, I will allure her,

Bring her into the wilderness,

And speak kindly to her.”

-Hosea 2:14

His very first note. You’d read it over and over again. His words had always been clear,  but you’d willingly chosen to overlook their intentions and play along. 

It was easy to get away with it when it was that simple: just words on paper. The rest was merely skimming the surface, speaking around the things you actually wanted to say. Communicating subtly through gestures and lingering eye contact.

You looked up at the moon — only a sliver of light, like a winking eye. You felt like a live wire, muscles taut and a restless spirit. At that point, you didn’t think you could be subtle any longer… and you didn’t want to be, either. 

And so you ran in the cover of night, only a thick coat and a sleeping shift covering you. You felt, for the first time in a really long time, the wind tousling your hair. It felt strange being so exposed, but an almost frightening sense of freedom came along with it.  

What could this say about you? That all along you were beyond saving, no matter how much you wanted to pretend otherwise? 

At least, you never pretended not to be easily swayed — At the first delicate word or piercing glance; The first stab of hunger, adoration, need. Easily malleable, body and soul.

You hurried up the steps of his apartment building, trying to keep the sound of your panting breaths to a minimum. Your fist connected with his door immediately, urgently, and you couldn’t even worry about what time it was or if you were being terribly impolite.

Then he opened the door, eyes wide and hair slightly disheveled. Next thing you knew, you were crashing into his arms, reaching up to bring his face to yours. You slid your lips over his in a searing, desperate kiss. Your knees buckled, but he held you up, pulling you closer.

His mouth eagerly captured your soft, dizzied whimpers, his tongue coaxing more of them.  He maneuvered the two of you past the threshold, closing the door behind you. 

You let your coat fall to the floor, one less unnecessary layer between you. You broke apart to catch your breath, his forehead leaning against yours. It took a moment for the two of you to register it wasn’t a dream, hands touching each other’s faces, necks, and shoulders; Solidifying together.

“Cara mia,”  he rasped, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. “It has become unbearable, has it not? Trying to untangle the thorns of our affections?”

“Truly sacrilegious. Perhaps that torment was our punishment.”

“Only a cruel God creates pleasure but forces his creatures to abstain from it,” he said, his hands ghosting down your back.

His hot breath fanned over your lips, so close and yet so far. You planted a kiss on his enticing top lip, still holding his gaze, your eyes obsidian in the darkness of the room.

You’d let the serpent wrap tightly around you, hissing your darkest desires into your ear. Why, then, must you heed another God when you were becoming so devout to this one?

“Show me,” you breathed.

With careful, patient hands, he slid your night shift off your shoulders and down your arms. He kept his eyes on yours, anchoring you to the moment. The tips of his fingers traced little lines of fire on your skin. You wore no undergarments, so you were quickly bare for his appraisal, in complete contrast to his dressed form.

Almost unconsciously, you reached for the buttons of his pajama shirt. He stood absolutely still, letting you slowly uncover him as well. Once the last button was undone, you pushed it off, hands experimentally roaming over the expanse of his chest.

Then you were kissing him again, unable to help his gravitational pull. Your bare skin against his felt electric, and all you wanted to do was press even closer. He pulled you up into his arms and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to his bedroom, gently setting you down on the edge of the bed. 

He broke the kiss in order to turn his bedside lamp on, more than eager to get a better look. His eyes slid over the expanse of you, desirous to familiarize himself with every single inch. The intensity of it felt like he was already caressing you, but his hands were currently at his sides.

“There has never been a more beautiful sight,” he murmured reverently. “Not the rising sun or a saint’s statue. Not even Venus emerging from the sea.”

Heat crept up your neck and towards your face. You shifted, suddenly feeling a little prudish under his assessment. Old habits died hard, you supposed, but you wouldn’t let them overtake you. 

One of his hands made contact with your leg. He caressed up your calf and stopped at the knee, slowly pushing one leg apart from the other. You sighed softly, arching in a silent plea for more.

“Yeah?” He rasped, a feline sort of grin on his handsome face. 

Impatient, you reached for his hand, pulling him towards you. His lips found yours for a moment before moving to your jaw and down the slope of your throat.  

His hands roamed all over, mapping out every curve, every plane, every dip, and swell. You found yourself submitting amiably to the pleasure of his touch, beating down that guilt that had been forcibly rooted in you.

His mouth continued to trail downwards, teeth grazing the fleshiest parts. He delighted in your twitching and the hums of pleasure you tried to contain. Licking around your navel, he made your whole body shudder, hips bucking.

“H-Hannibal,” you gasped.

“You can tell me if you want me to stop at any point,” he said, looking up at you.

You nodded in understanding, urging him closer by pressing the heel of your foot against his back. He chuckled, kneeling on the floor by the bed and kissing your inner thigh with a fondness that melted you.

And when you felt his breath on your slick folds, you knew you were a lost cause. You wanted to arch again but he wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you even closer, his mouth sealing over your most sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream at the initial shock of pleasure, eyes wide as saucers. Oh, you’d forgotten what ecstasy a skilled tongue could bring, but never before had you experienced one quite like his.

He was voracious but unhurried, tongue lapping at you with gusto. You trembled underneath him, burying your hands in his hair, holding on for dear life, and yet also not wanting him to pull away.

At first, your moans were restrained, kept behind your bitten lip. He knew you were holding back, trying to keep yourself away from the edge, and he simply couldn’t allow that.

“You taste divine,” he rasped, looking up at you. “I could sup on you for days.”

Your eyes met his for a moment before you quickly looked away, blushing deeply once more. You covered your face with one hand, embarrassed at being so wanton, so obscenely disheveled in his presence.

“Why do you hide, Tesoro?” He purred. “Are you afraid of showing me just how much you’re enjoying yourself?”

“I—” 

But before you could utter another word,  his tongue dipped into your cunt, his nose slightly brushing against your sensitive clit. A loud moan escaped you at that, and he groaned along with you. 

“That’s more like it,” he pulled away for a moment to give you a sly grin before diving back in.

“Hannibal, please, I don’t think I can…” Your panting words faded into a sharp exhale as he found your sweet spot. 

He was relentless now, strategically targeting the spots he discovered made you react more.

You squirmed at the lewd sounds your body made as he ravished you, but more and more you were lost in that blissful haze. The muscles of your abdomen tightened and you felt yourself steadily climbing to the peak of your pleasure.

As you got closer, you began to chase it with wild abandon, bucking your hips and grinding against his face — a much better replacement for your own hand. Your moans and hitching breaths were music to his ears, and the sight of you coming utterly undone for him forever seared in his mind.

You rode out waves of unadulterated euphoria, feeling it all over your being like licking flames. He’d only been the kerosene to that spark that had been growing inside you, and it wouldn’t be so simple to extinguish.

As you lay there in the aftermath, still panting from the intensity of it all, he kissed his way back up your body. You tasted yourself on his lips, growing ravenous at the mere thought of the communion of your beings. 

“I need you,” you whispered. “I need all of you.”

“I’m yours for the taking,” he said earnestly, like a vow that he’d never break. “How do you want me?”

“Just like this,” you said with a rising fever, bringing your knees to his hips. “I want to forget where you end and I begin.”

The words seemed to unleash something within him, a sort of primal response that flickered in his amber gaze. He claimed your mouth once more as if intent on consuming you completely. His body was firmly pressed to yours, his weight a welcomed comfort. Then, you felt him push into you ever so slowly, the stretch both foreign and yet also familiar;  Something you recalled from eons past, but never like this. 

A lot of things felt new with him, completely reawakening you in ways you’d never thought possible. You gasped into his kiss, clawing at his back as he fully sank in. His pace was slow at first, savoring the closeness, pelvis grinding against yours. He was intoxicated with your warmth, your smell, your taste. Driven wild by it, even. 

You responded with equal fervor, the two of you intent on marking each other in any way you could. Completely surrendering to just physical sensations, a mindless sort of ecstatic violence. The wolf’s arrival to its most anticipated devouring. 

Soon you were pleading with him for more, to go faster, harder. He obeyed your every command seamlessly as if already understanding what your body needed. He kissed and sucked at the sensitive flesh of your neck, teeth and tongue on your pulsating artery. 

You fell apart under him once more, face twisted in rapturous agony, his name on your lips. But that didn’t stop either of you, too frenzied from all the longing, all the time you had to restrain yourselves. It was a marvel, really, that you had held off for as long as you did. 

He rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as you gyrated them, head thrown back in ecstasy. He let you set your own pace like that, content with watching you continue to unravel atop him.

The rest of the night was like an opium dream, stretching infinitely and intensely. No corner of the bed was left untouched, your bodies twisting and bending and colliding in all sorts of positions.

Not once did you extricate yourself from one another, not even as exhaustion overtook you, plunging you into the best sleep you’d ever had. 

———

Rolling green hills and vast plains sped past the window beside you, a few farmhouses and groups of cows scattered between. The metallic shuddering of the train dimly filled your ears, accompanied by soft conversations. Your mind was far away, beyond the idyllic visage unfurling before you.

It was the first time you’d ever been outside of Italy. It was a drastic change, one that was a  little frightening, but a welcome one, too. So far, the French countryside was an appealing mystery that you wanted to uncover, and you had all the time in the world.

Your eyes then focused on your faint reflection in the window, not recognizing yourself for a moment. You were still getting used to wearing regular clothes again, especially when you showed more than you used to, even if it was all still modest. Your eyes seemed clearer, more alive, and the dark crescents underneath them were slowly disappearing.

Guilt still reared its’ ugly head from time to time, twisting your stomach into knots. But it was losing some of its viciousness, and you had help escaping spiraling thoughts and physical punishments. You’d been healing nicely, or at least you were in the process of it, anyway.

You felt Hannibal’s finger tracing down your bare arm, and you looked away from the window to face him. He smiled as your eyes met, noticing how you almost instinctively leaned closer to him. You brought your hand to his, and he looked down at the golden band around your finger. 

“What are you thinking of, Cuore mio?” He asked, voice low and intimate. 

His tone made you think of the way he’d recited his vows to you on that late night under the stars, when the two of you decided you could never be parted; Something only for you to share, no one to prove your love to. 

“How everything seems so endless now, stretching farther than I ever could’ve fathomed,” you said, looking around you. “Nothing seems contained. I can no longer see the edges. Does that sound absurd?”

He kissed your hand, smile widening. “No, not absurd. At our crossroads, a new path made itself clear to me. There is no end in sight, but I intend to follow through.”

The truth was you could scarcely see the division between the two of you; Blurred in such a way that it was like living through each other. You felt him sitting amidst the pews of your ribcage, listening to the hymns of your heart. Your flesh was his flesh, your breath his own. 

And even stranger… it felt a little too much like freedom, which he had presented to you on a silver platter.

You leaned in and kissed him softly, almost chastely. When it came down to it, you liked to savor him slowly, letting the anticipation build over time. The look in your eyes was adoring, but there was also that feverish glint that he’d come to recognize. 

“How long until we’re there?” you murmured. 

He chuckled lightly. “You’ve become quite insatiable, haven’t you?”

“Can you blame a poor sinner like me?”

The tip of his nose grazed yours. “Not when I am so keen on indulging you.”

The announcer’s voice came on over the intercom, listing the remaining stations. You recognized the name of your destination, at the very end of the train’s line. You rested your head on his shoulder as the two of you continued to gaze out of the window, savoring the beginnings of your new life together.

The sun continued its slow trail across the sky, its rays lengthening and bathing everything in golden light. In your eyes, this was the real Paradise, the place you’d been searching for most of your life. 

And it was even more beautiful than you had ever envisioned.

---

[wizardofrozz]

Bestie! 🥰 I come bearing a first kiss prompt request! If it’s not too much trouble!

"sorry, that was my first kiss." "i could tell." "...." "i'm kidding!"

With Sawbones? Because this feels so on brand lol.

For Tonight

OC Sawbones x gn!reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: mention of war, alcohol, suggestive themes

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt, my wonderful friend ❤️ I had a lot of fun writing younger Sawbones and exploring what he was like close to the beginning of the war. Also, thank you @a-single-tulip and @hetalianskywalker for beta reading 🖤

Coruscant seemed to never sleep. Hundreds of species from across the galaxy mingling in one place, regardless of the galaxy-wide war that had just started. But you couldn’t judge, you were out and about, spending another girls’ night drinking and blowing off steam. Your group had already lost a few members by the time you reached 79s. 

You weren’t against one-night stands, hell you’d had your handful, but finding someone worth your time was exhausting sometimes. You settled at the bar with one of your friends, ordering something non-alcoholic, and giving yourself a break. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that your friend had already caught someone’s attention. Not that you minded, you were silently rooting for them. 

The clink of glass on the bar had you glancing up at the bartender, flashing them a smile as you handed over a few extra credits. They offered you a small, exhausted smile in return before hurrying off to the next customer. You absently swirled your drink, watching the bright colors swirl together as the music picked up around you. 

The dance floor filled in more and you glanced around; less than a year into the war, you were already starting to recognize battalion colors. Red, blue, green, but as you scanned the busy bar, another color caught your eye. Gray was new.

Two clones sat at a table near the bar and you couldn’t help but stare out of curiosity. The gray paint looked newish, barely scuffed, leading you to think they just got back from their first deployment with that color. You didn’t recognize their haircuts or any of the scars you could see; it would be hard not to recognize a long face scar. But there was something about them that screamed higher rank. Suddenly, the man with the face scar stood, arching a brow at his companion, his lips moving slightly before he walked off. Your eyes drifted to the clone sitting by himself. 

He was slouched in his chair, legs spread as he mindlessly swirled his drink, staring off into space with a hard look on his face. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand when he lifted it to scratch his cheek. It was clear the beard was still growing in but you found you didn’t mind it; it seemed to...fit him in a way. Your stomach clenched when his head turned, eyes immediately locking onto you. You froze, your face warming as he tilted his head slightly, his expression never changing. Then he just watched you. It felt impossible to look away but a part of you didn’t want to, not really. 

He jerked his head to the side and it took you a second to realize he was motioning to the now-empty chair across from him. Were you really going to do this? Apparently, the answer was yes when you stood. You could feel his eyes on you the entire way but you didn’t look up to meet them until you carefully settled into the chair opposite him.

“Uh, hi,” you said, trying not to squirm when he just blinked at you. 

“You were staring,” he replied, his voice a bit lower than you expected. Your brows pinched together and you rested your arms on the table top. 

“And so were you,” you countered, arching a brow. It was such a small change in his expression, the ghost of a smile, and you couldn’t help but feel a little triumphant. He shifted down a bit more in his chair, dark eyes trailing over what he could see of your body until his eyes landed on your face again.

“I was,” he stated simply, sipping his drink without breaking eye contact.

“Why?” If the question caught him off guard, it didn’t show on his face. Instead of answering right away, he sipped his drink, rolling his top lip into his mouth before setting the cup down again. 

“Aren’t even gonna ask my name first?” The realization made you flinch, shifting in your seat; you offered your name as an offering first, watching a faint smirk tug at the corner of his lips.

“Ni - Sawbones, but you can call me Bones.” You caught the slip, squinting at him briefly but didn’t ask.

“Well, Bones, I asked you a question,” you teased, moving to take another sip of your drink. You almost wished you had picked something alcoholic because the longer he just stared at you, the more self-conscious you grew. Sawbones’ jaw worked, the grinding of his teeth lost to the chaos of the bar but you could see the small movement in his cheek. 

“Pretty,” he finally admitted, although his eyes never left your face. 

“What?” Your lashes fluttered, still a little unsure if you heard him right. His eyes shifted away for the first time but it was brief, the weight of his stare back almost immediately. 

“You. You’re...pretty,” he forced out. The sour look on his face almost made you laugh; it looked like it pained him to say it. 

“Don’t hurt yourself,” you chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood a little. Sawbones immediately rolled his eyes but there was a hint of amusement in his expression. 

Over the next hour or so, you inched your chair closer to him as the crowd got wilder. Sawbones didn’t say much unprompted, answering your questions, but he seemed more content to listen. He told you about his squad, the Wolfpack, and you found out he was a medic but he didn’t elaborate much, leaving out his rank specifically. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem in much of a rush either, although, you almost didn’t notice when his hand dropped under the table, resting it on your knee when you were close enough. 

The only reason you did notice his hand was because it tightened briefly before it disappeared when another body knocked into your chair. He sat up a little straighter, twisting in his chair, and his hand shot out, yanking another clone back toward him. You couldn’t hear what he said but you did notice the way the other clone’s throat bobbed. Sawbones released him, shoving him back a little hard than necessary. Your brows pinched together when he turned back to you. 

“What was that for?” you yelled over the music. Sawbones’ expression pinched and he leaned closer, turning his head slightly. “I said-” 

The thrum of the crowd suddenly picked up when a new song started, cutting off the rest of your sentence. Sawbones’ nostrils flared, his top lip twitching in irritation and then he was standing, grabbing your wrist in the process. You couldn’t even ask what he was doing before you were being pulled through the crowd. You hurried to keep up, nearly knocking into his back a few times until he tugged you into one of the quieter hallways leading to the back of the bar.

“Okay,” he huffed, still not releasing your wrist. The combination of how ridiculous it was that he dragged you all the way here just to hear what you had to say and the sudden nervous swirling in your stomach, forced a laugh past your lips. Sawbones’ brows knitted together but he didn’t say anything.

“I - I was just asking why you stopped that trooper,” you chuckled, meeting his eyes. 

“He ran into your chair.” It took your brain a second to process, a smile slowly spreading across your face. The gesture only seemed to confuse him more, the crease between his brows deepening. You took a step closer, quickly realizing he still holding onto your wrist. As soon as you brought attention to it, he let go, clearing his throat. Sawbones shifted his weight when you rested a hand on his chest, eyes darting down to look at it before finding your face again. 

“Thank you, that was sweet of you to stand up for me,” you murmured, inching a bit closer. His only response was a stiff nod, calculating eyes watching as you inched closer. It gave you a surge of confidence when one of his hands came to rest lightly on your hip. Sawbones was unbearably tense but the second your lips touched his, he exhaled through his nose, his stance losing some of its rigidity. It wasn’t glaringly obvious but there was a hint of hesitations in the way his lips moved against yours. His eyes stayed shut for a moment when you pulled away, his chest expanding with a long deep breath. 

Sawbones blinked slowly, eyes half-lidded when they met yours and although he didn’t quite smile, there was a pleased look on his face. When he spoke again, his voice was softer and he didn’t break eye contact.

“Sorry,” he huffed, lightly rubbing your side, “that, uh, was my first kiss.” It was endearing to get a glimpse behind his grumpy, stoic mask; it brought a small smile to your face as you brushed your thumb over the edge of his beard.

“I could tell,” was out of your mouth before you could stop it. The silence was suffocating and Sawbones’ brows pinched together but you couldn’t quite tell if it was anger or embarrassment. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” Sawbones arched a brow, not looking very amused, although, he didn’t necessarily look angry either. You were starting to wonder if he just wasn’t very expressive. 

His hand continued to mindlessly trace the curve of your waist and he didn’t pull away from your touch; it felt like a good sign. But he also didn’t say anything or really do anything other than blink. 

“I really was joking,” you murmured, letting your hand slide down to the side of his neck. 

“I know,” he replied, his jaw clenching slightly. You blinked at him and almost laughed; it made you wonder if maybe he was just nervous. 

“How about I make it up to you?” you offered, you corner of your mouth lifting. He hummed with interest, tilting his head slightly as his eyes shifted around your face before he nodded. You gently pushed him toward the wall until his back knocked into and pecked his lips one last time before lowering yourself to your knees. 

Sawbones’ eyes widened, his hand hanging in the air where you were just standing as he blinked down at you. “What’re you doin’?”

“Just wait and see,” you chuckled, winking at him. One eyebrow jumped and he swayed with a silent laugh, a small smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. 

Sawbones’ head thumped against the wall when his codpiece hit the floor.

Ragu list:

@wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @wolffegirlsunite @clonemedickix @sev-on-kamino @dickarchivist

[just-figs]

Bubbles in my Beers

Doing my part to rectify the criminal lack of Aries content. I rarely get invested in Bethesda characters but I just love that man. It's been years since I actually wrote something, so please be nice. But I am trying to actively improve my writing so constructive criticism would be more than welcome.

It's just a cozy little conversation scene with some pining strewn in. I had my own FO76 character in mind when writing this, but I think it came out fairly neutral. No beta reading, I don't have friends to do that for me, lol.

______________________________________________________________

A crackling fire. A faint cigarette smell. The content munching of happy brahmin.

It was one of those rare, calm evenings that made the world feel as safe as it used to be. It was your last stop before reaching Foundation. Ward was willing to pay a hefty bonus for a guaranteed delivery of these tracker parts. So Vinny asked you and Aries to make sure they made it past the cultists, Blood Eagles and super mutants that plague the Savage Divide.

Things have been quiet, though. You would even say too quiet, if it weren't for the fact that you combed through and cleared out the area before bringing the brahmin along.

So the two of you allowed yourselves to relax a little, even indulged in more than one glass of whiskey.

"You know I've been wondering...", Aries suddenly interrupted the silence, "What was it like? Back then, with anything even resembling sentience simply... gone."

You looked at his mask a little startled by the unexpected question. He rarely asked you anything about yourself. To respect you privacy, you always figured. Or hoped, if you were completely honest with yourself, because the alternative would just be indifference.

"Didn't you live here after the war?" you asked confused.

"Well, yes, but I left before everything went..."

"-tits up?" you interrupted him with a smirk.

"Yeah." he chuckled, continueing to stare into the fire. "Come on, quit stalling. The information imbalance here is still in your favor. You owe me a few good stories."

You don't know if it was the booze or the safety of the warm fire but you sighed and relented. He was right. With everything you knew about him and his family, it was only fair to share some stuff about yourself, too.

"It was... oddly peaceful, believe it or not. There was this reverend silence surrounding everything. Like back in the day on early sunday mornings after a big snow storm, right before christmas, you know?"

Aries hummed knowingly. He shifted his gaze to your face intent to listen carefully. Now it was your turn to stare into the fire. To help focus and remember, you tell yourself. Not because, even with the mask, prolonged "eye contact" with him was nearly impossible for you.

"It was hopeful, even. For a time. Following every little lead for any little scrap left of civilisation. Waking up every day thinking 'maybe today there will be someone waiting to be found and rescued'.

But... ", you sighed again, "there's only so many bodies, skeletons and ghouls you can find at the end of tattered journal pages until it starts to get to you."

"What about those fellow dwellers of yours? Did you never band together like a merry band of settling misfits?"

A scowl was beginning to form on your forehead. You were starting to remember more clearly now. "No. They started to grow bitter and... bored. Dangerously so. I think more of us fell victim to other vault dwellers than to the scorched or anything else the wasteland threw at them. Things were looking pretty grim until those folks from Foundation showed up. That changed a lot. Changed people a lot. Although, I actually do miss the quiet sometimes." You ended with a nervous laugh and another big swig of your whiskey mix, barely tasting like anything other than old Nuka-Cola.

"Yeah, some of you seem like straight psychopaths, scary dudes." Aries leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on his legs. "No offence, Jack."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname but laughed with him. "You know, one of these days you are going to tell me where you got that name from."

"What are you talking about? You know where I got it from, it's obvious!"

"Is it now?" You raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Yeah! Jack, Jackalope, it's obvious!"

"Jackalope?" Of course it would relate to some kind of cryptid. What else did you expect?

"You know, because you're just like a bunny, but weird." He took another drag of his cigarette with a barely visible chuckle. He appeared almost nervous. "All cute and adorable with a death stare and a penchant for violence."

That did get an honest smile out of you. "Well, in that case, I take it as a compliment!"

Silence settled again. Both of you lost in your own thoughts of what-ifs, could-have-beens and silent maybes. This time it was your turn to break it, now definitely emboldened by cheap alcohol.

"I don't think I ever properly thanked you..."

Even though you couldn't see his face you could tell the look Aries gave you was one of confusion. "Thanked me for what? That brotherhood business? Pretty sure-"

"No." You cut him off before you lost the courage to explain yourself. "Back then, when I was just about to give up... that's when I arrived in Lewisburg and stumbled onto those posters your sister made. It was shaping up to be just another thing that lead nowhere. I found your colleagues, your... friends. But not you. No matter where I looked. Every nook and cranny. Nothing, not even a tiny piece. Do you have any idea how much time I spent in that cellar looking for another secret door?" You interrupted your monologue with laugh, this time Aries didn't join in.

"But I couldn't find you. And... that... gave me hope again. Maybe someone really did make it. Maybe someone really is still out there. Maybe, some day, I can even talk to him. I even took one of those posters as a reminder. So... thank you. Really."

For once, Aries was speechless. And just stared at you for a little while before he found is composure again. "Well, I hope I didn't dissappoint too much!" He chuckled nervously, "Come on, time to hit the hay. I'll take the first shift."

He hurriedly picked himself up and gathered his weapons and a blanket. Suddenly eager to get away from you. "Oh, sure." you couldn't help but feel a little hurt. Although this sort of thing happens a lot to you. You start to feel comfortable around someone and when you try to share you immediatly overstep. You should have gotten used to it over the years, but that little sting never quite went away.

[tiredassmage]

17, 28 and 39 from fifty (more) rook questions?

Tysm!!! I'll use a cut for these since they're from the more spoilery-edition!

[50 (more) questions for rook (spoilers!)]

17. Any companions they don't get along with? How does Rook navigate this?

While they still work efficiently together and Tyr's not the type to turn his back on any of his team without a damned good reason, I think he and Emmrich simply... have such differing views on much of necromancy, and different associations with magic, that they... coexist, but Tyr's understanding of the Nevarran customs Emmrich finds commonplace are something Tyr simply has to respectfully agree to disagree with. Arguably, magic in general is something he has a tepid grasp and relationship with altogether, having grown up in a military family in Tevinter with no magical talents to speak of himself or in his immediate family, and with the nuisance and threat of the Venatori always lurking in the shadows, to boot. It's not his area of expertise and never will be, so he generally tries to keep his nose out of it... as well as he can, at least.

So there's a lot he doesn't quite... get about their resident necromancer, but Emmrich's passion for his work is clear and that is something Tyr carries some amount of respect for, even if he's... not quite certain of his feelings about the work itself, lol. And that's how he tries to approach the professor; Tyr's honest that he doesn't understand a lot of it, sometimes to Emmrich's disappointment, perhaps, but he'll let the man speak on his own views and sometimes he still learns a little something. For Tyr, being dishonest or brushing over the oddity of it all to him would be a disrespect when Emmrich does ask for his thoughts, and that kind of thing doesn't build good trust in a team that's supposed to be able to count on one another in such impossible odds.

28. What does Rook think of Dorian?

Somewhat amusingly given his relationship with Emmrich, I guess, is Tyr doesn't know the glass-canon necromancer Dorian was for my Inquisitor, lol! What he does know, however, is Dorian Pavus speaks his mind, and very little's going to change that unless Pavus wishes it so. And, especially as a fellow Shadow Dragon, that kind of trait is worth its weight in gold. Not all Magisters want better change for Tevinter, nor do all or even many of that number agree what "better" should be defined as, and while Tyr won't claim to place his entire faith in the systems of authority, neither would Dorian. And at the end of the day, the Shadows are deeply important to Tyr, so any true friend of the Shadows may well be a friend to him - certainly at least a respected ally.

39. What's it been like, living in the Lighthouse?

In a word? Odd. Certainly more so in the beginning, and also... rather lonely at first, too. The emptiness of the place when it was just Harding, Neve, Varric, he thought and himself I think only added to how disorienting it all was - how large the scales of conflict were, what had really happened... I'm not sure he paused to think too long on it - thinking too far on how they were essentially living in the Fade is such... It's a lot to wrap his head around, and there's already plenty else to try and do that with, too.

It's one of the pieces of Solas's motivations I'm not sure he puzzled together, despite how important understanding that was because I think it was too much for him to think on. But it doesn't really start to feel like their own until the team is actually complete. Once the whole team is there and everyone starts to settle in, it... starts to feel more alive in a way he does understand - a way that's far more like the steady noise of life that steadily flows through Minrathous. And the Lighthouse reacts and changes with them - which would probably be equally as odd if it wasn't so reassuring. The more lived in the place feels, the more at ease Tyr is around it. It's... probably never a place he'd truly like feeling quiet. Quiet in the Lighthouse is a sound given to the unpredictability of it all, to the impossibility of the task before them.

I'm quite fond of the idea of the decoration styles being present to some in-game extent as much as simply a game option, so it truly is more reassuring for Tyr once the green flickers of Veilfire are a bit more reminiscent of the red glow of Tevinter lights.

Minrathous may be a busted city, corrupt and petty, and Tevinter's bloody history little to be proud of, true... but it was always home. And it's just... more grounding that the place looks more like the team's, with their own clutter and lives reflected around its halls, than an empty temple to a past that's led them to the greatest fight of their lives.

It becomes familiar, as all things may with time, but it definitely wouldn't be the home it does manage to become without the influence of his team and their support. I don't think he likes to spend much time in his room alone - reminds him too much of Solas in his head, even once he has a few more personal touches in the room to sort of offset that. Though, perhaps ironically, I think he does prefer the music room. Its perhaps the one nice thing Solas left behind that Tyr makes use of - he was always fond of playing piano, a skill picked up in his youth, and his preferred spot to be alone with his thoughts, if he must. Its better with the music to keep him company - and perhaps the odd wisp or two that tails him from time to time from Neve's study.