#i hope i've made it clear that i WANT to like her character – and do under certain circumstances!

[chithereader]

jealousy, jealousy / aaron hotchner

here’s my masterlist! pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader / shy!reader word count: 2.4k genre & cw: fluff, a little jealousy and pining angst if u squint, mentions of made-up case, different use of cm character a/n: thank u so much for all the support i've been getting on my fics!! hope you love this one as much as i do, i really enjoyed writing this one the most!

Today was a bad day. That much was clear. From the moment you woke up to the minute you arrived at the BAU– you’re convinced that the universe has simply gone the extra mile to make your life a little harder. 

You slept through your alarm and a few phone calls from Garcia, making your morning stressful and complete chaos. You didn’t have time to grab a cup of coffee or a snack, and apparently you also didn’t have time to remove the colorful pimple patches that adorned your face. 

Your blouse is buttoned asymmetrically, your hair resembling a bird's nest, and you left your ID at home, making your arrival more delayed as you had to employ Garcia’s help in presenting a copy of your ID to let you through. 

That too was not without stress given that your phone was on the verge of dying as you were in the call, but thankfully you could finally breathe in the elevator. Or so you thought. 

There were two things that immediately caught you off guard as you walked into the bullpen: one, almost all the desks were deserted and two, Reid and Morgan were watching you- as if waiting for your reaction, which led you to look around in anticipation. Is there a surprise? A prank? Did I miss a patch? I’m…wearing pants, right? 

Not wanting to prolong your search, you look at the two for any indication or clue. Tilting your head to the side as if to ask what? But to your surprise, they both nod their heads in one direction. Oh.

Strauss was in Hotch’s office, along with Rossi and a woman you don’t recognize. Hotch looked a bit tense, Strauss firm, Rossi is as relaxed as ever, and the woman… is looking directly at Hotch. Just Hotch. Huh. 

You were stood just shy of your desk when you shook thoughts out of your head, slowly approaching your desk to settle your things. Dozens of scenarios were running through your head, trying to make sense of new additions to an otherwise normal day. 

But the way she was studying him made your chest tight like someone was stepping on it.. and you couldn’t figure out why. 

You approach the two rascals only to lean on Derek’s desk as you whisper under your breath, “What’s happening there?” 

Morgan shrugs but his focused face remains, “I don’t know, kid. I tried Garcia but she doesn’t have a clue either.” Eyes studying the people in the room, noting anything that could tell them something. 

Mulling over more possibilities, you hum in response. Turning to Reid, you ask him- hoping that his eidetic memory can tell you anything about the woman even if they’d only met in passing. 

“Do you know anything, Spence?” But Reid only pouts at you, a sign that he’s thought about it hard but is coming up empty. 

Shaking his head, he soberly replies, “No..I don’t think so. I– I’ve never seen her before. Sorry.” 

Before any more thoughts could be voiced between the three of you, the door to Hotch’s office opens and all four of them file out- the woman walking a little too close to Hotch. 

-

You’re approaching your usual seat on the jet beside Morgan and across from Hotch when suddenly Agent Seaver overtakes you and sits on your seat. Caught by surprise, your eyes instinctively go to Hotch who’s already looking at you. 

He nods to himself, moving from the aisle seat to the one by the window. But it appears Agent Seaver misunderstood his gesture and moved beside him, “Oh! Thank you, sir.” Even going as far as touching his arm and leaning closely. 

Now, you’ve never been a violent person. Rage has just never overcome your senses like that but today.. of all days– you couldn’t help the image of spilling your hot chocolate all over her cream blouse. 

You don’t even notice that you’re frowning as you sit beside Morgan, somehow still unaware of how much their closeness really upsets you. You honestly thought you’ve maintained an expressionless face until Morgan looks up from his file and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You’ll need claws not paws, baby girl.” Winking at you as you separate. 

You steal a glance at Hotch only to see him watching you and Morgan with furrowed brows. He almost looks normal if it weren’t for the clenching of his jaw that’s his tell of irritation. Moving your gaze to Seaver, in case you missed something that’s causing his new mood, you find her reading the case file. 

As you return your gaze on Hotch, you watch as Seaver touches his arm again and engages him in conversation about the case. It’s through the whole jet ride that you had to stomach the constant Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner! paired with a giggle or a slight touch. UGH!

If it weren’t for Strauss personally recommending Agent Seaver as a consultant for this case, you would have done– …still absolutely nothing. You had no claim whatsoever over Hotch. Morgan and Rossi may tease the two of you occasionally, forcing that he treats you specially or whatever but his behavior could simply be chalked off as him being a good and attentive boss. 

And yes, okay fine. You may have some moments here and there… but! they could honestly just be built up in your head because of the feelings you have for him. Like when he said he likes it when you stare? Come on, being stared at can be flattering and that’s just a universal truth. 

- 

After a whole day of coming up with theories, visiting crime scenes and M.E.’s, you’re all completely spent. Lounging in the makeshift discussion room, all of you are still working tirelessly on the case given that the unsub’s on a spree and his timeline is alarmingly short. 

Reid’s been silently staring at the board for 20 minutes while Morgan’s pretending to read files of potential suspects with his legs stretched out and feet on the table, “This is impossible. We just don’t have enough.” He exclaims as he tosses the file on the table with a thud. 

To the left of Morgan, you’re also silently mulling over files of potential suspects. Not wanting to admit that he’s right, you guys don’t have enough…bodies. You barely have anything on the guy, barely any clues- for a working profile. 

You sigh heavily, peeling your eyes off the paper and looking at the board. “Reid?” The boy genius shakes his head softly, confirming that the known dump sites don’t say much about the unsub’s comfort zones or hunting ground. 

You suddenly wonder where Seaver, Hotch and Rossi are. You and Morgan got back to the precinct at around 11PM, and you realize you haven’t seen any of them, “Where are the others?” 

Morgan, in an effort to lighten the mood, jumps at the chance to tease you, “Hmm. I think what you’re really asking is: Where’s Hotch and is he with Seaver?” He punches your arm lightly, making it obvious he’s only teasing. 

The smug, playful smile on his face makes you fight one of your own, desperately trying to not give yourself away, “Shut up,” hitting him in the head softly with the file in your hand. 

While you two were exchanging playful glares, Reid interjects, “Seaver wanted to turn in early since she’s also the one meeting with the families tomorrow so Hotch brought her to the hotel.” 

You instantly lift your gaze to him and watch as he removes the marker’s cap and scribbles rapidly on the board, quickly adding “And I’m pretty sure Rossi’s getting us coffee from the diner around the block.” 

You want to blame it on your exhaustion– your inability and ineffectiveness at hiding how you truly feel about what Reid just revealed to you, groaning loudly in pain and frustration. You put your head in your hands, muffling the sounds you’re making that are somehow a combination of a laugh and a sob. 

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud. 

“It’s not funny!” There was honestly no point in hiding it. As much as Morgan teased you, you knew he wouldn’t tell anyway, and Reid.. well, he was honestly an even better keeper of secrets than Morgan, Rossi and Garcia. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “Baby girl, worry not. You know you hold a special place in boss man’s heart.” Then gripping both your wrists to pry your hands off your face. 

Pressing your face even further into your hands, you let out a muffled version of “That’s not true!” that came out more as “Daffs noft thwu!” 

When Morgan successfully pries your hands off your face, you’re surprised to see Reid’s moved from the board to behind Morgan, half leaning half sitting on the table, curiously watching you. 

Morgan turns around to look at the door behind you, making sure the coast is clear before he says, “Kid. Be real with me for a sec… are you blind?” That was not the question you were expecting. 

You must have looked so lost because he continues, “Hotch cares for you. Deeply. And not in the same way he does for us. You’ve gotta have felt that, kid.” Funny, you are starting to feel like a kid– the only thing missing are his hands on your shoulders to complete that huddle pep talk experience. 

“That’s just not–” you try to start. But Reid swiftly raises his hand, signing you to stop–

“Did you know that every morning Hotch makes sure all the pens and mug handles on your desk are pointing to the right– the way you need it to be– in case the night janitors move any out of place?”

“Or that he never really ate lunch in the office before but started bringing sandwiches and other food he could microwave, while timing his lunches with yours presumably so he could strike up a conversation with you during break?” 

“Or do you remember that one time the AC in the bullpen broke and we were all sweating badly, and I said the heat was making me too thirsty then he disappeared into his office and came back with a bottle of water and an orange juice box only to give it to you?” 

Morgan lets out a loud laugh at that one while Reid pouts playfully, “I mean I was genuinely dying then.” 

Not without his own input, Morgan smiles softly at you with a raised brow “Did you know he personally restocks your favorite hot chocolate in the pantry and on the jet? Including the marshmallows.” 

You breathe in deeply, the revelations sounding too good to be true but winding nonetheless. You crack a small joke, trying to play it off “And I thought the bureau was just feeling really generous.” 

The two, who have grown to be such brothers, give you the exact same look of Really? 

As Reid rounds the table to go back and stand by the board, Morgan catches your attention and holds your eye, “Look, there’s so much more, kid. But they all point to the same thing.” He says this as softly as possible, as if to not scare you away. 

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. Shaking your head, “That just can’t be true.” 

With all three of your backs to the door, you don’t notice Rossi nearing. You just suddenly hear his voice from behind, rounding the table and settling the coffee cups in front of all of you, “Coffee, anyone?” 

As if trapped in the null of the previous conversation, you’re still looking at Morgan as you lean back in your chair, slumping further to seek non-existent cover. Reid, who is now back in his own world with the board, is handed a cup by Rossi, who didn’t even turn to look- only stretching out an arm to receive it and mumbling a distracted “Thanks.”  

Rossi, who is simply too smart for his own good, impressively senses something hanging in the air, nonchalantly asking about the tailend of a conversation he was not supposed to hear, “So… what can’t be true?” 

Back to lounging excessively on a chair that is a tad too tiny for him, with legs outstretched and feet on the corner on the table– Morgan spouts, “That she’s Hotch’s girl, and has no reason to be jealous of Seaver– who by the way needs the HR orientation more than Penelope and I.” 

-

Now– all of your backs are to the door except Rossi’s. Not one of you tried to move due to fatigue, let alone look.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan, and Reid, on the way back to the precinct from the hotel, Hotch had the genius thought of picking up Rossi so the latter wouldn’t have to walk a block with trays of coffee on hand.

Hotch and Rossi arrived together. And as Rossi went around the table to give you your cups of coffee, Hotch stayed behind– leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed, watching you and the team.

Imagine his surprise, hearing what Morgan just said. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped. His entire being froze entirely.. What? Jealous? 

In his mind, he had two choices: Act like he didn’t hear it and save you from embarrassment or use it to his advantage and make his intentions clear..ish. 

-

You gasp loudly at his bluntness– and in front of Rossi! Straightening in your chair and pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “You little– I am NOT jealous! and I am NOT Hotch’s–” 

Cut off by someone loudly clearing their throat from behind all of you, you all freeze, including Reid who hasn’t been actively paying attention until now. 

The hair on your neck stands up as you hear the nearing footsteps, already envisioning digging your own grave in your head when finally, Hotch is standing right beside you. 

You’re all still pretty frozen, save from the slow movement which is your eyes slowly lifting its gaze to the man in question until they meet his hazel orbs. He holds your stare as he leans on the desk, arms straining in his shirt– 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Rossi fighting a smile, and just as you’re about to mentally curse him in your head, you’re broken out of your thoughts by a deep voice, 

“You don’t think you’re my girl?” 

[imstillalexcomic]

Since coming out and getting on tumblr and all that I've come across so much art, stories, and pics that have been crazy heartwarming. All of the stuff you amazing folks put out there has made one thing extremely clear to me:

I am not alone.

The sense of strength and community here fills me with so much more hope than I could have ever dreamed of having, and every new post I see adds another brick to the growing monument of compassion that we are sharing with the world.

The more visible we are, the stronger we will be.

One of those projects that never fails to immediately make me melt is Twig by @welldrawnfish. Please please please take a stroll to her page if you somehow haven't already as she's an absolute rock star and amazing artist and is yet another one of the folks here who make me want to work harder.

I have a fantastically large amount of flaws in my drawing, and I reinforced all of those flaws for twelve years while I was making my old comic. Once Corpse Run ended, I kind of fell off the wagon and other than doodling from time to time, I didn't really draw for two years.

As it turns out, that might have been the best thing for me. I feel like I've been able to reset and unlearn bad habits.

I still have bad habits though!

BUT I'M WORKING ON THEM.

I'm not going to be able to do it every day due to work, but I've really enjoyed drawing just for the fun of it, no schedule, no deadline, no "need"... just fun.

Twig... Twig is fun. So today I wanted to sketch some Twig fan art.

So thank you to @welldrawnfish for creating this amazing character that resonates with so many, and thank you to this community for inspiring me to become a better artist. I want to keep working and growing with all of you, and I want to make our monument of compassion so grand that we remind the world that we are just as beautiful and worthy of living our lives as everyone else.

[willosword]

kit, jentry and the art of misunderstanding

this is basically just a really long post going over kit and jentry's interactions in eps 8 and 9 bc i've seen some people feel like their characterization took a sharp turn ("they made kit act like an incel", "they made jentry reject him just because he's a demon", etc), when i thought both their actions were perfectly understandable and a pretty natural evolution of their not-relationship. i think the key thing to remember when watching these scenes is that both characters have very different assumptions about the current status of their relationship, partly because they were never able to sit down and define it in the first place.

kit thinks he and jentry are functionally together, that any hesitation on jentry's part is the result of some fixable fault of his own, while jentry thinks they were never a thing to begin with, and especially not now after kit betrayed her trust.

so this is where the trouble really begins, tho i think even earlier in this conversation is when they started to be on different pages. up until this point, kit had been hoping she'd forgive him, and was taken aback when she said she wasn't looking for apologies. then she started reiterating her belief in his soul and relating to the feeling of being trapped with a life defined by someone else

jentry pov: even though i'm feeling deeply betrayed, kit doesn't deserve to be under anyone's thumb. we'll help each other out and then we'll part ways amicably. that'll make things right.

kit pov: hold up. 'make things right'? as in... make up? as in... a relationship is still on the table? :D

jentry pov: after the powers are gone there'll be nothing tying kit to me, and nothing tying either of us to mr cheng. he'll be free to move on and choose whatever new life he wants.

kit pov: she said 'you and me' like we're a pair! so she still wants to be with me after all :D we're reconnecting!!

so this is when kit starts getting possessive. there's definitely good old fashioned jealousy at play, but i also think kit was genuinely under the impression that he and jentry were reconnecting, and that jentry should have no reason to be interested in michael at this point.

back at school he's genuinely confused, because he has no idea jentry isn't into him anymore. he helped her get rid of the powers and made up with her, so now they should be back in business. he did the mum thing that's apparently a romantic gesture jentry likes, so shouldn't she be happy about it? look how thoughtful he's being!

jentry pov: ohhh shoot, he doesn't get that i don't wanna be with him anymore. i can't deal with any more stressful demon stuff......... how do i put this nicely...

kit pov: yep haha ^_^ no more powers, yay! it's like what you said back at my house! now that you don't have the powers nothing is getting in the way of our relationship anymore, like mr cheng and gugu's game. peace and love on planet earth <3

jentry pov: i need to let this dude down as GENTLY AS PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE. i want to word this in a way that SCREAMS "you're an okay dude, just not what I personally want out of a relationship right now" because I know he has issues with his sense of identity. so i will focus on how the relationship itself can't be normal. this will hopefully take the brunt of rejection off him as an individual and lay the blame at the feet of unfortunate circumstances

kit pov: ohhhh so she WANTS to be in a relationship with me but i'm not acting normal enough

jentry pov: ok thank god. he gets that i don't want us to be together AND he took it gracefully.

kit pov: so she's saying we can be together... once i start acting more normal? that's slightly upsetting. but totally doable :)

jentry pov: i will now pursue michael since i've cleared things up with kit ^_^ yaaayyy

kit pov: what the hell??? i'm trying to be normal for her???? like she ASKED me to?? but now she's flirting with michael out of nowhere???

jentry pov: THIS CREEPY ASS DUDE KEEPS STALKING ME AFTER I TOLD HIM IM NOT INTERESTED

kit pov: i am doing Normal Displays of Normal Human Affection like she literally asked me to >:( ok well not literally but she INSINUATED

from his pov, she's not even giving him a chance to "correct" his behavior before she runs off with someone else, toying with his emotions. he's trying to "out-normal" michael to win her back, but it's frustrating and terrifying bc if there's one thing he Can Not handle it's rejection

jentry pov: this guy obviously can't take a gentle let-down, so I need to be more blunt about this. he stalked me, lied to me, tried to kill me. how can he NOT see why i don't want to be around him anymore? what the heck is his problem?? how much meaner do i need to be about this before he finally leaves me alone???

kit pov: ok, so the mask is coming off now. she said i was more human than i thought, that a soul is made up of the decisions you make, who you choose to be. but i didn't choose to be centuries old, i didn't choose to drain qi, those are all intrinsic parts of my demonic existence. was all that talk a lie? do i not have a soul after all? am i not human enough for her? was she just trying to spare my feelings this whole time?

jentry pov: he's so creepy and possessive, i hate this, why can't he just take no for an answer!!? (<- objectively true btw)

kit pov: she's avoiding the question, so she means 'yes' and is too proud to say it. she doesn't like me because i'm a demon, and if i was a normal human, we'd be together right now

so of course he gets so upset he punches the lockers. it's not extreme or out of character, he thinks everything jentry told him about his humanity was a lie. that there IS something inherently wrong with him that nothing but the acquisition of a soul could fix. that he's back to square one, that mr cheng was right, that no one could possibly love him in his natural state. that he is, inherently, down to his core, a monster.

but at least this time, he doesn't have to kill jentry to get what she he wants (because it was never really about her. he never prioritized her happiness. everything he did to change 'for' her was always about desperately maintaining the sense of human connection he craved)

[crazyk-imagine]

Hi, I was thinking Jacob Black x Reader. Where Jacob was waiting for Reader to come out of school till he heard commotion in front of the school and saw Reader fighting a bully who is a guy. She has a bruised lip and bleeding nose. Jacob hurriedly pick up Reader and take her to Emily’s so she can chill out and so Emily can patch her up. The pack saw her and they started asking questions till Emily started lecturing her.

Jealousy and Pack Scolding's

Pairing: Jacob Black x Uley!reader

Characters: Jacob Black, Uley!reader, Paul Lahote, Jared Cameron, Embry Call, Leah Clearwater, Seth Clearwater, Quil Ateara V, Brady Fuller, Collin Littlesea

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Paul being an idiot, Sam not liking the imprinting, this was actually kind of cute, I think I made Jake a likable character (for me), Emily is an angel, Sam and Emily are my fav, reader has avoided making eye contact with Jake bc she has a crush, Sam knows whats up, Embry just wants his imprint, Paul is such a big brother here, love writing for the wolfpack, it's so much fun, reader knows about imprints

Word Count: 2,431

A/N: Ask and you shall receive... this was fun and totally not inspired by Jake fics where he's a little jealous shit

I've aged probably everyone sooo, Sam is 26, Emily is 25. Leah is 23. Jared and Paul are 19 (in a nearby community college) and just one semester from graduating. Jake, Reader and Embry are 18. Quil, Seth, Brody are 17. Cam and Seth are 16

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He kicks his bike stand up, so it stays upright while he waits for you to exit the school. He crosses his arms, not wanting anyone to talk to him, hoping he looks “menacing” enough for his classmates to get the hint and steer clear of him.

He knows Quil and Embry made their way back to Emily's since Sam wants them to do their patrol shift as soon as they can once they finished with their last class.

He couldn't complain much considering he was able to go home and change before heading back to pick you up so he could successfully switch shifts with Embry, which annoys him since Sam basically ordered him to pick you up.

He’d be more okay with it if you two were friends- or even talking; he doesn’t know why he was put to the job since you two aren’t close- or at least, compared to Jared and Paul.

Jake did recently find out (after complaining to the guys when their alpha wasn’t around) you’re Sam's niece and Emily has taken a light to you, thinking of you as her own daughter.

And the only reason he thinks that is because of how she treats you; it always reminds him of the way his mom took care of him and his sisters when they were younger.

Don't get him wrong, he has no problem with that or the way she treats you, he's more curious than anything since you haven't been talking to him.

It kind of bugs him that you talk to Paul and Jared more than him and isn't sure why. He gets the two shifted before everyone, but you've started talking to Embry and Quil so why not him too? Hell, you’ve even started making small talk with the newest shifters Brady and Collin.

He thinks this is why Sam sent him here, so he'll stop moping around about you and not just because the pack is tired of hearing how sad he is with you not talking to him.

The chanting, "fight, fight, fight," overtakes his sense in waiting for you and he steps closer.

He stops behind the wall of people, checking on who's fighting, curious as to who's stupid enough to fight on school property.

The fist flies to your face and he starts fighting his way to get past the people blocking him from getting to you.

You spit, not wanting the copper taste to remain in your mouth. You turn your head back to David, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of feeling like he won.

You kick his upper thigh, right above his knee and knock him down before pulling your arm back and drive your fist as hard as you can into his cheek.

He falls and cups his cheek, whining about the pain and the fact that he's bleeding.

"Talk about my family again and you'll be bleeding more."

Jacob finally breaks through the crowd and pushes David's friend away before the guy could grab you. "Back off," he growls.

The friend raises his hands in defense and backs away, noticing how buff he'd gotten and knows better to not fight Jacob.

He turns to you, smelling blood on you and cups your face, searching to find the damage, ignoring your eyes as the blood from your lip drips further down your chin. "Come on."

He puts you on the back of his bike and starts it before kicking the kickstand.

-

You unwrap your arms and get off the bike, trying to put distance between you, Jacob, and your home.

He grabs your wrist, "where do you think you're going?"

"Away."

"Just because you want to hide your face from Emily and Sam, doesn't mean you can run away."

"I can still try." You tug on his arm. "Let me go."

"No, you need to go in there and face them."

You stop fighting and he lets go of you, trusting that you won't leave. "I don't want Sam to be disappointed."

"Did you pick a fight with David on purpose?"

You shake your head, "of course not."

"Then he won't be disappointed... as long as you talk to him."

"Says the guy who fights him every chance he gets."

That earns a chuckle from Jake. "Says the mousy niece."

You scoff, shoving his arm. "Hey, I'm not mousy."

"This is the longest conversation we've ever had."

"That's your fault, you're always mopey."

"I am not."

"Are so."

"Am-"

-

You walk through the door.

Emily's voice interrupts yours and everyone else's conversations. "I'm happy to see the two of you are talking." She smiles with a twinkle shining in her eye that quickly dies as soon as she catches sight of your face.

"Oh my- what the hell happened to you?" She grabs your chin, tilting so she can look at your face. "Who did this?"

Paul tenses, Jared tries to see over her shoulder.

Embry and Quil walk through the back door and glance at one another with concern evident on their faces once they realize what’s happened.

"Don't tell, Sam," you reply, staring into her eyes, practically begging her not to tell him.

"Don't tell me what?"

You grimace and then wince because your adrenaline has worn off and the pain has surfaced. "How much I love you?" You say without turning.

"I don't buy it." He wraps an arm around Emily, pecking her cheek. "Did you cut your finger again?" He asks with the scent of blood wafting through the room.

"Uh-" She catches your eye as she glances down at her hands. "Maybe, I don't know."

You attempt to sneak away while he's distracted and fail.

"Turn around."

You pout, keeping your head low as you turn.

"Lift your head."

"I like staring at my shoes while they're clean."

He grumbles your name under his breath.

You lift your head and sigh. "I may have gotten into an altercation at school."

"What the hell happened?"

"That's what I was asking before you got here?" Emily chimes in.

"And I was avoiding it then."

"What did you do?"

You scoff, "I didn't do anything, you dick."

"That is no way to talk to your uncle," she tells you.

You stare at her, "I'm going to give him the same respect he gives me," and turn to him. "Which is none."

You exit the room when you realize none of you are going to be able to have a proper conversation and make your way to your room, slamming the door behind you.

-

"What happened while you were waiting for her?" Sam towers over Jacob, attempting to search through his mind to figure out what could have happened.

"I don't- I don't know. I was waiting and then I heard the other kids chanting, fight and then I saw her get hit and then take down David-"

"Wait- she was fighting David?" Jared chimes in with a smile.

"He deserves it," Paul adds.

"Guys a grade A asshole," Embry says before snacking on a muffin.

"So, this fight was valid?" Sam asks, wanting to understand everything he's learned within the last five minutes.

"No, it wasn't valid because fighting isn't the solution, is it boys?" Emily turns to the boys at the table.

"No," everyone answers.

"Good," she smiles.

"But this hasn't happened before? What's happened? This David- or whoever clearly said something for her to act out."

"He was talking about my family," you tell them, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed.

"That doesn't give you enough reason to fight," she tells you.

"It does when they start making fun of your dead parents and uncle who's running a cult."

They purse their lips.

"How do you feel?"

You shrug, "my fist and face are aching, so I'd say I did something right."

She sighs. "Fighting isn't the answer."

"I know that!"

"Then why did you do it?"

Your emotions cause you to snap. "I was tired of him thinking he could still bully me!"

She takes a few steps closer to you. "This has been going on for a while now. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't want either of you to walk into the principal's office thinking you could stop it when it'd only make things worse," you grumble.

"We could have found another way to stop him from making comments."

"I took care of it the only way I could."

"There's always more than one way-"

"I know," you run your fingers through your hair in a frustrated manner. "I wasn't thinking but he wouldn't shut up. He waited a few months, giving me a grievance period but then he started talking shit again and today he wouldn't leave me alone."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Jared asks.

"Yeah," you scoff, "because I wanted you guys to help when the hothead is one fight away from being expelled. Everyone still thinks those two," you point to Embry and Quil. "Are weird because they suddenly got buff and had a haircut. Don't even mention the fact that Jake along with Brady and Collin are the new talk of the pack."

Sam sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just, go clean the blood off as best you can, and Emily will wrap your wounds."

"I already did."

"Then go get the first aid kit and bring it in here."

You walk back into the bathroom throwing everything you’d laid out on the counter back into the bag and aim for the kitchen. "Heal me with your magical powers, Em."

She smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulders as she guides you to the island so she can use the natural light to check over you. "Does this hurt?"

"Not yet."

"Okay, let me know when it-"

You suck in a deep breath through your teeth.

"Hurts. You okay?"

"Peachy, Em."

"I know you had to defend yourself today, but fighting isn't always the answer."

"Yeah, I know," you reply with an attitude.

"I'm just reminding you, so you don't continue hurting yourself. You're not like the others, and I don't like seeing you get hurt."

"Thanks, Emily," you wrap your arms around her and pull her in for a long hug.

She smiles, returning the hug. "Don't go getting into fights again or else I'm going to bubble wrap you."

You chuckle. "As long as you save me from a Sam lecture."

"Deal." She slides the plate with muffins, closer to you. "Eat something first."

The guys shake their heads at your behavior.

"Does this mean I can hang out with you guys?"

"You hang out with us already," Jacob points out.

"Cliff diving." You unwrap your muffin.

"Absolutely not," your uncle tells you.

"Come on."

"No,” Sam shakes his head.

"Guys," you beg, turning around to look at the others.

"We're not getting involved in that," Paul raises his hands, heading towards the couch.

- Extra -

"Wha-"

"I'm with Paul," Embry tells you, pulling Quil with him as they sit beside Jared.

You turn to face your knight in shining armor. “Jake-”

He turns away from the others and glances back at you, the humor falling from his face.

“Oh, shit,” Jared mutters.

“Are you serious?” Embry whines.

You owlishly blink trying to figure out what’s happened when he falls to his knees. You set your muffin down and push yourself off the stool to stand in front of him. You poke his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“It’s you,” he mutters.

You raise your head and face the others with a scared and confused expression. “Guys, what the hell just happened?”

Paul smirks and looks away.

Jared buries his face with a muffin.

Embry and Quil face the tv, not wanting to see how things plays out.

Brady and Collin walk through the door.

“Holy shit,” the former says.

“Congrats, Jake. You finally got your imprint,” the latter adds.

“What?” You spin around to face Emily. “Imprint? That’s what just happened?”

Sam rubs a hand over his face. This was the last thing they needed.

“Did we- did you not know?” Brady asks you.

“Does this look like the face of someone who’s in the know? Does it. Brady?”

Collin pulls his buddy away before you can rip their heads off.

“I think we need to talk,” Sam says, pulling Jacob off the ground. “Outside.”

You three stand on the porch, trying to wrap your heads around the whole situation.

-

“I don’t know what this means,” you tell them.

“This means, no being alone in your room. No sneaking out after curfew. No-”

“Sam, we’re not dating. This doesn’t apply to us.”

“It could,” he says, finally snapping out of his mind.

“What?”

“It- the imprint bond doesn’t happen by accident, it’s the joining of when two soulmates find each other.”

“So, we’re soulmates?”

He nods.

“I thought you were in love with Bella?”

“I was.”

“And now you’re not? You couldn’t have moved on that fast just because of this bond.”

He sighs, “I know this is going to be a lot of work, but I want to get to know you whether we go out or not… even though dating you-”

The clearing of someone’s throat cuts him off.

He sheepishly smiles, rubbing the back of his head. “We’ll talk more later.”

You can’t help but giggle and wince soon after.

He’s kneeling in front of you in seconds, searching for any sign of pain. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. My lip is going to be the kill joy of my existence for a few days but I’m fine.” You place a hand on his shoulder, “thanks for pulling me out of there when you did.”

He shakes his head, “it was nothing.”

“It was more than you know, and I know you were only there because Uncle Sam made you, but I still wanted to thank you.”

He can’t help the wide smile that stretches across his lips. “I’ll always be there for you.”

-

Sam throws you over his shoulder. “Babe, where’s the extra wood I keep for the winter?”

“Back room, why?” She asks, watching as you beat on his back.

“I’m locking some doors.”

“Sam, no!” You screech. “Boys, help me.”

“He’s the alpha, what he says go,” Paul tells you.

“You suck, Lahote.”

“You’re gonna be swallowing, princess.”

Paul has never shifted and ran out of his alpha’s place as quickly as he did today.

The others lose their minds as he runs all around, nearly bumping into the clearwater siblings as they head towards the place.

-

Continue to: Part II

-

Tag list (if you'd like to be added or removed, don't hesitate to ask)

@kmc1989 @gilbertgirl13

[thenameswinterfics]

SCIAMACHY

Fandom: House of the Dragon Pairing: Cregan Stark x DragonDreamer!Reader Settings: Season 2 and post season 2 Summary: As the second child of King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn, your father arranged your marriage to the young Lord of Winterfell, Cregan Stark, in the guise of an arranged marriage that would strengthen the bond between your Houses. But you are haunted by visions of a bloody war shaking the Seven Kingdoms, and the seeds of your doubt are sown when your sister's claim to the throne is challenged. Word Count: 4,4 K Warnings: Angst, mention of death, mention of grief, mention of character(s) death(s), mention of child loss, mention of sibling loss, major spoilers from the book "Fire and Blood" (if you're only following the show please do not read this fic). A/N: I'm back! (sadly for you) This is my very first fic I've written for the HOTD fandom and the very first fic of Cregan. I'm nervous, maybe even more than when I posted my first Sihtric fic, probably because the fandom is vast. It came out different of what I've planned in my head and I lowkey hate the last part, but I hope you still could enjoy it! A special thanks to @foxyanon and @zaldritzosrose for helping me with clearing my outline and for the title, and for her and @legitalicat for the quick beta reading.

Dedicated to my beautiful Cregan wife @sylasthegrim

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header & dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3

Sciamachy: (n), a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadows.

An unfamiliar chill ran down your spine as you walked through the dark corridors of the Red Keep, the place you were born but never called home. The soft crunching of the snow under your boots was the only sound you could hear as you juggled in the darkness, the faintest light in the form of rays filtering through the cracks in the walls and allowing you to see a little. 

The sight was vivid, far too vivid, and all you could do was rub your eyes vigorously, hoping that when your vision cleared you would find yourself surrounded by the crackling fire and warmth of your room in Winterfell, the place you were sent against your will but would be forced to call home once you became its new lady. 

But no matter how hard you tried to clear your vision: you would still recognise the long, oppressive corridors you had walked as a child, emptied of the countless soldiers of the Kingsguard that guarded it. Each step became an echo of the memories you thought you had buried with time, but which rose to the surface like a breath of fire from the dragon's jaws. 

You could still hear the voice of King Viserys, the father who despised you from the moment you took your first breath, guilty of stealing your twin brother's life and living in his name. A father that neglected you for not being born as a man.

You could still hear the voice of your sister Rhaenyra, sweet as honey and warm as a mother's embrace you had never known. You were the little sister she always wanted, the glimpse of freedom amidst her duties to the Crown and the relief from the pain of losing a childhood friend. And it mattered not that you were the quietest of her family, avoiding banquets and receptions in the throne room and sneaking out whenever you could, collecting the brightest bugs and muttering meaningless words, flinching when someone touched your hand: you were still her perfect little sister in her eyes. 

And her love was all you wanted right now. 

Your bittersweet thoughts were interrupted by a loud roar from outside, the sound so loud it made your head spin and your stomach churn. You quickened your pace, hoping to find a larger crack in the wall to see what was happening outside. And there you found a vision that made you freeze.

You saw two dragons, an older one and a younger one, chasing each other across a stormy sky, their dragon scales glowing under the lightning and thunder as their bodies pursued each other in a majestic yet macabre dance. It seemed an innocent game between them, but the claws and talons of the older dragon prevailed over the younger, and you watched helplessly as he fell to the ground like a comet from the sky, swallowed by the sea.

You walked on, your eyes never leaving the scene outside, wanting to help the little dragon disappear into the water. But the more you crossed the corridor, the heavier the air you breathed became, and roars of pain, of burning lands and clashing swords filled your ears like a cursed chant. 

You covered your ears and closed your eyes, stopping your journey towards the throne room. When you opened your eyes again, you saw a room far different from the one you were accustomed to: the vibrant and noisy ambience turned into a ghostly one, the faint rays of moonlight illuminating the Iron Throne. A bloody crown, Jaehaerys' crown, lay abandoned on the throne, rivulets of blood running down to your feet, two dragons lying restlessly behind it. Two children stood before it, their backs to each other, holding each other's hands; you could feel their tortured gaze as they watched the bloody chair, and your heart broke at the sight. 

As you approached, trying to touch the crown, soft footsteps made you turn and you heard a wolf howling in the distance.

And then you woke up. 

Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honour must pay its price. 

These were the words that came out from Cregan Stark's mouth as he escorted Jacaerys to the Wall. They were a testament to how the men of the North were bound by his rigid code of values and honour, and how none of them had ever forgotten or wavered from an oath. 

And when the Stark were called upon to renew their allegiance to House Targaryen, nothing would make them waver.

His father Rickon had already done so when he was summoned to King's Landing and bent the knee to Rhaenyra Targaryen, and a few years later it was Cregan's turn to renew the oath by accepting King Viserys' offer of marriage to the new lord of Winterfell. The young wolf had recently been freed from the regency of his zealous uncle Bennard, and an arranged marriage to a Targaryen princess would strengthen the bond between the two houses since the times of Aegon the Conqueror and Tohrren Stark. 

But when he saw the melancholy in your lilac eyes, Cregan realised that politics was nothing more than a sweet lie masking a more sinister purpose: you were no longer welcome at the court of King Viserys, no matter how much your sister begged to keep you under her protection, or how much Alicent Hightower dared to show a glimmer of mercy. You would have been a young dragon raised by a pack of wolves, and as his future wife it would have been his responsibility to look after you.

And now he was called to be sworn to House Targaryen again, on the brink of a civil war that could involve the North in Southern affairs. 

“The realm will soon tear itself apart if men do not remember the oath sworn to King Viserys and to his rightful heir,” Jacaerys announced solemnly, walking through the narrow corridors of the Walls, Cregan at his side. The Lord of Winterfell was holding Ice over one shoulder, the sword as heavy as the title inherited from his father. 

“Starks do not forget their oaths, my prince,” Cregan retorted, occasionally bowing his head to some members of the Night’s Watch, “But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between North and South,” he added, a hint of heavy responsibility in his voice. The threats in winter were much greater than in summer, with the Night's Watch and the men of Winterfell stepping up their activities on the Wall, ready to turn back any outside threats. Furthermore, it was rare to see the intervention of the North in matters concerning the South, but Cregan could not ignore that oaths were broken. And traitors had to pay for it.

“War is coming to the whole realm, my lord,” it was the Prince of Dragonstone’s turn to retort back, “Whilst your men plan to raise guards against wildlings, the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne. My mother’s claim has been compromised, and little I believe your lady wife could turn her gaze away,”

The words that escaped Jace's mouth left Cregan in a state of astonishment, his brows furrowing and hardening his already stern face. He had never expected the prince to use his wife so cleverly, even though she was a trusted member of his house whom he had sadly never met in peaceful circumstances.

“The Queen has not forgotten the love she has for her sister, and King’s Landing will welcome her again once my mother succeeds in keeping the realm united,”

“My lady wife has her sister's fate very much at heart,” Cregan continued, his gaze softening a bit at the thought of you, “and you arrival put her in a state of worry, my prince,”

The two young men then stood on the Wall, looking out over the untamed land, now covered in white snow. A biting wind whipped around them as Cregan explained how such powerful creatures as the dragons refused to cross the spaces beyond the Wall, highlighting the dangers of the unknown that folded these lands, while he and Jacaerys negotiated the number of men willing to aid Queen Rhaenyra's cause. Cregan himself knew the importance of keeping an oath to a man's moral integrity, and while his duties were tied to the Wall and the threat of the wildlings, he could not ignore the dispute over the king's word. 

“My lord,” one of Cregan’s men arrived, forcing the two young men to interrupt their conversation, “Urgent news from Dragonstone,” 

The Wolf of Winterfell took the parchment in his hands, and from the brief glance he shared with one of his men, he knew the contents were far from frivolous. He let the paper slip from his hands to read the message, and a sense of astonishment struck him like the chill of the North: his lips curled into a grimace, his eyebrows furled slightly as his grey eyes scanned the words printed on the paper. He could have thought it was an unfortunate joke, but the seal of House Targaryen only confirmed what he had read: 

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon has met his death at Storm's End, slain by Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Cregan lifted his gaze to rest on Jacaerys' brown eyes and watched as the young prince's face contorted in confusion, then grief as he glanced at the parchment in Cregan's hands, and hot tears watered his eyes, streaming down his sharp face until two small rivers crossed their path on his chin. The young lord watched helplessly as the Prince of Dragonstone staggered backwards, clutching his chest in a tight fist as if trying to hold it together; it was a sight familiar to Cregan, for he had also lost his younger brother and remembered the same sense of helplessness creeping through his veins. 

But as Jacaerys collapsed in grief, a new weight hit Cregan's chest, a sense of dread blossoming in the centre of his stomach as he steeled himself for what was to come. 

He would have to inform you and to bring the news of Lucery’s death. And it wouldn’t be easy.

The bright orange sun hid behind the imposing mountains of the North, its last rays illuminating the tops of the peaks and tinting the snow a soft pink. As the light faded, a few amber rays filtered through the windows of your chambers, illuminating them with a soft glow - the gentle warmth of the sun blending with the heat of the great fire in the centre of the room, accompanied by the soft crackle of the wood.

You sat quietly at the foot of your bed, embroidery hoop in hand, watching your son Rickon play with his wooden toys beside you. A few handmaids moved about your chambers, preparing the large table for the dinner you and Cregan would share that evening. Your lilac eyes rested on the small figure of your son, who returned them with a broad smile. But as you raised a hand and gently rubbed his swollen cheeks, you were seized by a sense of unease. 

It had been a long time since you and Cregan had been married, and from the first night you spent in Winterfell your mind had been haunted by dark omens hovering over your family name. Glimpses of what had happened in the past and what would happen in the future passed before your eyes like dancing shadows, sometimes appearing even when you were fully awake. You could still hear cries for help filling your ears, dragons fighting in the sky with claws and breath of fire, and sinister whispers plotting an overthrow of power, the image of your father's bloody crown on the throne still vivid in your mind. 

The people of Winterfell had always regarded you with suspicion, for you were far from the Targaryen princess they had always imagined. But Cregan had never dared to question your tastes, however strange they might sound, and whenever the duties of lordship allowed him a moment's respite, he would gladly accompany you to the far reaches of the North and catch whatever bugs you wanted. In winter, when the temperatures were too harsh and the bugs were nowhere to be found, he would wrap his great arms around your form and listen to your strange rhymes as he gazed into the fire. 

Your prophetic dreams ceased after you gave birth to Rickon, but they returned when a raven came from Dragonstone with grim news: the death of your father the King, the usurpation of your sister's claim by the Hightowers, and the loss of Rhaenyra's only daughter. Fear settled in your heart as you remembered the figure of the young dragon swallowed by the waves of the ocean, and you wondered if even innocent children would fall victim to this dangerous game of power. 

The doors of your chambers swung open and Cregan appeared. The handmaids greeted him with a nod of respect, and you gave him a small smile as you watched Rickon rise and reach his father, who scooped him up with his free hand and kissed his little forehead.

But it was when he looked at you that you realised something was wrong. His eyes, softened by the sight of you, held a pain that seemed to be fighting him. It was as if he were carrying a burden too heavy for him to bear, heavier even than his duties as Lord of Winterfell, and the sight surprised you: you had never seen Cregan so troubled by anything.

"Leave us alone," your husband's voice echoed in the room, once again wearing his mask of severity, "I need to have a few words with my wife in private,” 

The handmaids bowed their heads and quickly left the room, one of them holding Rickon in her arms. There was an unspoken tension in the air as Cregan cautiously approached you and sat in front of you. He had always been an attentive and protective husband, showing a side that differed from the stern image he gave his men.

“You seem quite troubled, husband,” you spoke softly, your voice faltering slightly. Cregan replied with a heavy sigh, covering your hands with his larger ones and rubbing them with his calloused thumbs.

“Dreadful news came from Dragonstone, my love,” Cregan said in a hoarse voice, choosing his words carefully, as if talking to a wounded puppy, “Your sister, the Queen, lost a child again,”

You felt the ground beneath your feet, surroundings had become as muffled as your husband's voice as he recited the contents of the parchment:

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon has met his death at Storm's End, slain by Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Feeling like you were about to pass out, you rolled over onto your side and gripped the wooden footboard in a tight vice. You immediately covered your mouth and looked down at your feet as your mind slowly processed the news, but the shock was so strong that no tears came. Your mind raced back to the dream you'd had weeks before Jacaerys' arrival, seeing pieces of a puzzle you couldn't quite understand until now: Lucerys was the dragon that fell from the sky, and Aemond was the other one who sank his jaws into his flesh.

You felt Cregan's worried gaze on you as one of his hands moved to your arm, rubbing it gently in a soothing way. “It pains me to see you so devastated, my sweet wife,” he spoke quietly, breaking the wall of silence between you, “but you must know that House Stark will stand against-“

“I need a moment, please,” your trembling voice interrupted him as you found the strength to stand at your feet, your thick robes swooning with every step you took in the room. You paced back and forth, one hand rubbing the bridge of your nose while the other supported your lower back, grief and confusion mixing in your head as you felt like you were about to succumb to madness: for a moment you wondered if Rickon would fall victim to the Dance as well, but no bad omen was attached to him and that brought you a moment of peace.

Your restless walk ended as you approached the large window of your chambers and saw Vermax flying restlessly outside. It pained you to see such a magnificent creature as a dragon so distraught over the loss of his kin, and it pained you even more when a flash of his fate crossed your eyes as you saw the dragon dancing among hundreds of arrows.

“It is said that dragons can feel their masters’ emotions,” a rough voice came from behind, and you saw Cregan looking outside like you, “They feel their pain, their turmoil, and they share the same grief.” 

“He is preparing for his last flight,” you murmured quietly, turning your head slightly and locking your lilac gaze into his grey one. You felt Cregan’s hand resting on your waist, allowing him to pull you closer and join your foreheads together. 

"Winter is coming, my love, and I need my men here to defend the Wall," he spoke softly, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt the warmth of your skin against his, "but House Stark will pledge its support to Queen Rhaenyra by sending her thousands of Greybeards to fight in her name. Your sister's claim will be upheld and your nephew will succeed her," 

"Jacaerys will never be King of the Seven Kingdoms," you confessed defeatedly, looking down at your feet, "the only kingdom he will see is of sea and salt. He will never see his mother sitting on the Iron Throne. I have seen it,"

Your words brought a heavy silence to the room and you both withdrew into your thoughts. You saw how quickly Cregan and Jacaerys had bonded, how they spent their days hunting and drinking together while they negotiated the terms of war. Luke's death would not be an accident, and you hoped your words would reach your husband, that he would understand the destructive force dragons could be once they went into battle.

Instead, Cregan's only words were his arms wrapped around you, sealing your body in a protective embrace. He whispered words of comfort, kissed your temple and promised victory over the usurpers.

But deep in his heart, he knew it would not be easy.

Grief and anger were the emotions Cregan felt as he rolled the parchment in his hands, his eyes darting over the words written in pitch-black ink. He cursed himself for not believing the signs of your dreams, for thinking that fear had created them for you. But even this time you were right.

The Battle of the Gullet had been costly for the Blacks, and the death of Jacaerys Velaryon was a low blow the queen would not forgive her usurpers. It was Cregan again who had the task of bringing you the unfortunate news, and his eyes would forever be haunted by the sight of your grief: he saw you holding Rickon as the news of blood and cheese reached Winterfell's ears, and those same dull eyes came back to you as you leaned against the wall at your nephew's death.

Not even the news that King's Landing had fallen into the hands of Rhaenyra and Daemon could ease the paranoia you lived with, but it only served to fuel your dark prophecies. Few letters were exchanged between Cregan and Rhaenyra, with the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms constantly asking for her beloved sister and inviting her to return to court and serve if she wished. But Cregan always refused her invitation. 

For the truth was that you were safe in the great lands of the North, surrounded by nothing but the love of Cregan and Rickon, far from that viper's nest that was the Red Keep. It took time for you to adjust to the harsh cold of Winterfell and the coldness of its people, but your calm and gentle nature opened a breach in the heart of his hardened lord, and with it, the people began to love you. 

The night was cold, and the heat of the fire was not enough to protect them from the blizzard raging outside. Cregan could not sleep, tossing and turning, hoping that the Old Gods would grant him some much needed rest. It was only after tossing and turning on his side for the umpteenth time that he saw you awake too, your platinum curls falling gently to your shoulders and your lilac eyes gazing absently at the small bed where Rickon rested. 

The young wolf wrapped his naked arms around your waist and pulled you close, his chest pressed against your back, the layer of your nightgown the only thing separating your bodies. "Sleep seems to have left you too," he said in a harsh voice, his lips brushing against your neck. You closed your eyes and let out a shuddering breath. 

"I have no reason to be asleep, dear husband," you replied absently, the softness of your voice melting his heart. Cregan knew that your mind was far from him, and he feared that your prophetic dreams had imprisoned it again. He let out a long sigh before speaking again.

"A raven came from King's Landing in the morrow," he spoke quietly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Rickon, "your sister will be pleased to welcome you to the capital and give you all the honours of a Targaryen princess,”

He felt a small chuckle escape your mouth and lowered his head, resting his newly bearded chin on your collarbone, "If it is your wish to reach her, I will order some of my men to arrange a safe journey south for you." Cregan went on, his voice faltering at the thought of leaving you alone while Rhaenyra dealt with her opponents. But you were his wife and the light of his eyes, and if you wished to regain your lost time with your sister, he would accept it without objection.

But the slight shake of your head surprised him, "It wouldn't change anything. Rhaenyra would be dead the moment I reached King's Landing, and the gods know what horrors await there.”

Cregan's brow furrowed, and for the first time he seriously considered the words of your prophetic dreams: if the Dragon Queen was indeed about to die, what would happen if he left his wife alone in the grasp of the Greens? A shiver ran down his spine, anger boiling in his chest at the thought of you being taken prisoner by Aegon the Usurper. 

"That will probably not happen," the Lord of Winterfell scoffed, tightening his grip as if he secretly feared you would disappear in his arms, "You have nothing to fear, my dear woman. Your sister is Queen now. Once the usurpers and the breakers of the oath have paid for what they have done, there will be a reign of peace and prosperity. 

"It will not be her," you murmured, rolling to the other side to face Cregan. You leaned your hand against his cheek as you looked at him with your melancholy eyes, "Rhaenyra is the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but a crown of ashes will adorn her head and a cloak of fire will wrap her body.”

Cregan leaned into your touch, but he could not quite relax at the grim revelation you gave him: he wanted to find comfort in your presence, but your words were as hard as boulders, carrying a heavy weight he wanted to lift from your shoulders.

"I can hardly see it," he murmured, his voice tinged with doubt, "Rhaenyra is a strong woman, gathering as many noble men as she can for her cause. The kingdom will be stable under her leadership."

You shook your head slowly again, your eyes filled with sorrow, "But the Dragonfire is stronger than she is, and what she has built will crumble with her," you paused for a moment before continuing, "A throne of iron swords will give way to a wooden one, and only when the cripple breathes his last will a child step in, wearing Rhaenyra's crown like a burden.”

Cregan closed his eyes and tightened his grip, a mixture of emotions flickering across his face as he slowly digested what you had told him. He had learned over time that your dreams were not mere hallucinations of a daydreaming mind, but a prophecy destined to come true, no matter how hard you tried to alter the course of events. The deaths of Jacaerys and Lucerys were living proof. 

“I swear on my honour that I will keep raising my banners for the rightful queen, no matter how gruesome our fates will be,” Cregan retorted, lowering his head more until your foreheads met again, “What will be of us?”

"You are bound by your honour and will fight for Rhaenyra until your last breath, my love," you murmured, absently tracing circles on his cheek with your thumbs, "The wolf will cry in the dragon's nest, and his wolf will be heard in the darkest hour. And only when order is restored will the wolf return to his pack."

Cregan stood in silence, his chest rising slowly as he held his breath, the realisation dawned on him: the intense activity on the Wall and the organisation of the harvest had always prevented him and his men from making a proper march on King's Landing, hoping that the Greybeards he had sent would be enough to fight for Rhaenyra's cause. But your words have confirmed that his men will march on King's Landing, and he hopes to find a less devastated city than the one his wife has described.

“Cregan,” your gentle call awakened him from his thoughts, his head resting on your hands, “promise me you will come back to me and Rickon. Swear it,”

The young wolf stood silent for a moment, his eyes drinking in your beauty: it would be painful to leave you behind, but if your prophecy came true, he would be forced to honour his oath and fight for his queen. And so he took your head in his hands, closing the distance and sealing the promise with a long, bittersweet kiss, tasting of farewell but full of hope.

“I swear it.”

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist or be removed.

Cregan Stark Taglist: @sylasthegrim @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose

[ozzgin]

Yandere School Q&A

I've gotten some related asks and thought I'd put them in a cleaner format, so I don't spawn another round of screenshots from my inbox.

Ohhh how would yan school react if y/n got hurt somehow?? Also quick question is her parents also platonic yans for them? Thanks!! - Anonymous

It only makes sense that the staff of the school is yandere material, too. The students may rush to help and insist they've got it under control, but the school nurse will be quick to act. It's the chance of a lifetime, having you to himself, and for longer than the usual standard checkup. The curtains are pulled, and the "do not disturb" sign is flipped. Your injuries are not to be taken lightly. You'll need to spend all day under his supervision.

The parents and all relatives are indeed platonic yanderes! I thought it'd be a nice touch since I've never approached the trope before.

YAYAYAYYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAA MORE YANDERE SCHOOLLLLLL You’re amazing!!!!! (I had to ask to make sure I used the right your/you’re) also is the darling yandere gonna keep sabotaging y/n? - @femboybasil

The tying up incident was actually an exception to what I originally planned, haha. For most of the competitions, darling yandere will guide (Y/N) and aid them for a flawless win. That's the comedy of it: he's indirectly doing the yandere part while trying to be discreet enough as to not alert the other yanderes. Additionally, (Y/N) helps him with the darling tasks. Though that part is very much expected by everyone from school. The Daring Academy teachers are probably observing the activities, baffled. "Who the hell is that student? What skill...what obliviousness. They should've applied to us."

If you’re comfortable with this concept, (since it’s a school-based series I don’t know if the reader and yanderes are minors are not, if they are then you don’t have to write this.) but obviously the students of the Yandere Academy are going to need to learn how to tie up their darlings once they’ve been captured. Would you mind writing a little blurb about it since Reader is the unofficially assigned darling stand-in for their classes? - Anonymous

This is the ask I used for the tying up idea in Part 3! To answer your worries, all of my stories involve 18+ characters! Just wanted to clear it up for anyone in doubt. The school/academy setup is more of a college/university kind of institution. I do love a good high school setup, but not for self insert romance.

I’d imagine that there’s a drama class at the yandere school to help the students learn how to act and seem innocent. What if they put on a musical or something like Phantom of the Opera (because of course it would be that) and reader got the role of Christine or the equivalent. Imagine all the yanderes fighting for the role of their love interests to get the excuse to kiss them, and other yanderes trying to sabotage them as tactfully as possible to keep the show going, but replace the leads to be alongside reader. Think that may be something cool to add/write about? No pressure of course! - Anonymous

You know the whole thing is going to turn into a ninja survival shitshow. They had hoped to never cast (Y/N) in any role, for everyone's safety. And for the most part, (Y/N) thankfully never showed any interest in the drama club.

The supervising teacher held (Y/N)'s application form with trembling hands. It seems their little club had finally run out of luck.

Worst part: the school can't even rely on the teachers. They're just as desperate to see their cute little (Y/N) perform on stage. "Maybe this job is too overwhelming for one person, sensei..." they'll smugly tell the original supervisor. "We could divide some tasks. Someone else could train (Y/N), for example..."

ok here me out, what if there is like a field trip or sports festival kind of thing where the Yandere and Darling academy meet up. Basically where a Yandere and a darling are made to pair up to go through the numerous activities (maybe ones that test their yandere/darling skills) so reader decides to pair up with clumsy Yandere ( who is in Darling academy) much to the displeasure of Yandere classmate. Maybe like a battle of the the Yanderes? - Anonymous

This was a little trippy to read, because it came right after part 3, haha. Which I feel is basically the same plot. Though it would be interesting to see how it'd play out if the stranger was Reader's best friend instead.

Reader excitedly approaches Clumsy!Yandere and asks him to work together, to the dismay of all other students. They're enraged. You can see it plainly: their hands tremble, their jaws are clenched, their eyes have a psychotic glint. Poor Clumsy!Yandere is in constant shivers, unaware of the death stares. You're cheerfully guiding him around, his hand in yours, happy to see your friend again.

[reysdriver]

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected. 

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl. 

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking. 

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you. 

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him. 

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign. 

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke. 

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better. 

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again. 

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you. 

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made. 

“Absolutely not.” You replied. 

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip. 

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love. 

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen. 

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms. 

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky. 

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room. 

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you. 

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged. 

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed. 

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse. 

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun. 

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police. 

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively. 

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled. 

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it. 

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything. 

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father. 

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said. 

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all. 

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours. 

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.

[nutluvs]

not sure if your requests are still open but I'd devour your take on how rdr characters would react to you giving them a hot lunch while they are hunting. Like they are sitting at the top of the hill with a hunting bow in their hands and you sneak up to them, handing them a hot meal prepared for them.

preferred characters are javier, sean and kieran but you can add your favourites as well, I will gladly read your take on that about any character! :)

also don't feel pressured if you don't feel like writing it! much love anyways, have a nice day :))

- 🦎

hot n' ready 🍰 various rdr2 characters x gn! reader

!! divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more ♡ !! hi sweetheart ! i hope you're doing amazing today ! ♡ this is my favorite request i've gotten in ages ! it's so cute. thank you so much for sending it in. ♡ i'm so so sorry it took me so long to write, i've had like.. 0 motivation to write lately, and this is just to get back into it. i'm also very sorry if this sucks and if i didn't portray any of your favorites right, i'm only really used to writing a few characters. synopsis:bringing your dearest some good lunch you made just for him while he's out hunting. pairings (in order): ♡ charles smith ♡ arthur morgan ♡ javier escuella ♡ eagle flies ♡ sean macguire ♡ kieran duffy ♡ john marston ♡ the boy warnings: none, this is just fluff !! mentions: @pursuedbyamemoryy @deaddoedonoteat

charles smith:

he didn't expect it. at all.

although, that doesn't mean he didn't appreciate it.

when you crept up to him, his focus was entirely on the doe, whose head was tipped down to nibble at the grass beneath her hooves.

as soon as you prodded at him with the tip of your finger, he jolted and made a discontented, uncomfortable sound.

he was quick to whip around to see who it was, gripping his bow a little tighter, but when he realized it was you he visibly relaxed almost instantly.

he greets you and asks you what you have in your hands, disregarding the doe immediately. you were more important.

"a warm lunch, just for you. i know pearson's meals aren't so satisfying to eat, especially since they lack seasoning and any variation, so i made something of my own. i also made myself something, that way, we could have some lunch together.

when you say that, he feels his face go warm.

he has to clear his throat before attempting to tell you that you didn't have to do this for him and that he didn't want to be a waste of time, but you were quicker, promising him that he deserved a break from low quality food and that he deserved something nice.

so, now understanding you were absolutely sure, he takes his warm lunch from your hands with a smile, and you eat together underneath the shade of a tree, sharing conversation and warm, loving smiles.

arthur morgan:

he was a bit frustrated.

he had tried to get his hands on this damn buck for so long, but every time he'd try and shoot, the thing would get spooked off by quickly passersby.

so now, here he was, sat atop a hill, grumbling to himself about how irritating the prey was, fidgeting with an arrow and trying to calm himself down.

he had heard hoofbeats on the grass and quickly turned to see who it was, and as soon as he saw your face, all of his anger was gone. he put the arrow he held down onto the grass with his bow, and watched you approach. he noticed you had something in your hands.

"hey, darlin'. what's that you got in your hands?" he asks, watching you sit down beside him with a bit of a smile present on your features.

"some lunch for you. made it myself." you say, smiling bigger. "i figured you'd like something that isn't as bad as pearson's cooking... so i made that something."

arthur was a bit shocked, taking it from your hands when you held it out to him. he looked from the box up to you, unsure. "i don't deserve this, darlin', it's.. you didn't have to."

"i wanted to."

this makes his face go red, because he wouldn't really figure someone would want to do something like this for him. but it made him happy, and he really enjoyed your cooking. who knew you were so good?

javier escuella:

he's more of a fishing guy, so that might make it a little harder for you to reach him, but that doesn't deter you.

he went down to the dakota river to do some fishing, and he asked you to tag along, but you initially said no. he was a little sad about that.

however, when he was in the middle of wrapping a smallmouth bass so he could return it to camp, you prodded at his shoulder, causing him to yelp and drop the fish.

you apologized quickly, but he was quick to put the apology down. he wasn't mad at you, he could never be. plus, he insisted he should've been more aware of his surroundings.

after that, you handed him the lunch you made.

"querida, what's this?" he asks, inspecting it closely, as if unsure. it wasn't like you'd give him something that'd kill him, so he stopped his looking.

"a lunch i made for you, since pearson's cooking tastes like shit."

"it has a few of the meals you told me your mother used to make you, and i wanted to sorta give you some sense of home. i hope my cooking is as good as hers, and that i captured the flavors right."

his heart warms, and he feels a bit of a hitch in his breath. you took the time out of your day to make him one of the dishes from home? oh, you were just the sweetest.

he holds the lunch carefully as he brings you into a hug and kisses your cheek, thanking you before quickly sitting down to enjoy what you picked to make him.

eagle flies:

today's hunt had been very successful, and he was proud of that.

he had managed to shoot down some rabbits, and he wanted to finish off a deer as well. he found it most refreshing when he did this.

when you came over the hill, he was poised to shoot, rough fingertips pulling back on the string of his bow.

you decided to stay quiet, watching him release the string and puncture the unaware doe's neck. you smiled when he released a pleased sigh, standing to go collect the arrow and the fresh kill.

"that was a good one," you say, spotting him turn and smile right back at you. "thank you." he replies. he'd known you were there, but he had already gotten the opportunity for a perfect shot, so he didn't greet you despite how bad he'd wanted to.

you watched him pluck the arrow from the carcass and hoist it over his shoulder, bringing it back to his horse before helping you down from yours.

"so, why'd you come?"

"made you something." you say, handing him a small box lunch. "you deserve a treat for all of the hard work you've been doing lately. i know it's the least i could do for such hard work, but i was in a rush."

eagle flies smiles at the gift, his heart fluttering. "thank you, my love. i appreciate this a lot. i've always liked your cooking." he says, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your temple, before sitting down to eat the meal you made specially for him.

sean macguire:

he didn't know why he came on this hunting trip. hunting irked him.

he wasn't even all that good at focusing on the prey, let alone shoot it in a vital spot to kill it. he wouldn't admit that, nor the fact that he'd rather be doing something more entertaining.

he just about tossed away the bow, but you twined your arms around him in a hug and gazed up at him, a smile on your lips.

"hi honey." you say gently, "i brought you something to eat. hunting isn't your forte, and i know you like my cooking. maybe it'll calm you down."

sean stared at you for a moment, his expression flat before it grew a bit embarrassed, "i can hunt just fine!" he snapped, and you laughed. "i saw the anger in your face, honey, you hate it. here."

you pushed the box meal into his hands, and he wasn't going to deny this. as you said, he loved your cooking. he'd never say otherwise... even if he didn't like the flavor of something, he was the biggest fan of your meals and would eat up the whole plate.

he was quick to slump down underneath a tree with you, blabbering on about his day with you leaning against his shoulder. he didn't have any manners when eating, but that was fine. at least he was back to being happy.

kieran duffy:

he prefers being back at camp with the horses, let's just say that.

he didn't like the idea of hurting animals, preferring to take care of them. so, he purposefully made this a bad hunt.

he didn't even know why they asked him of all gang members to go out and hunt... although, he'd still try. he wanted them to trust him at least a little bit more. he wasn't just some o'driscoll..

he sat crouched behind a bush, expression a bit worried as he aimed the bow he borrowed at an unaware rabbit.

when he let go of the string, he jolted back, the squeaky, high-pitched sound from a pained bunny not meeting his ears. only the sound of panicked scuttling and the small thud of an arrow.

"oh..." he sighed, a bit displeased with himself. although, he sorta preferred that he didn't kill something so innocent.

"kieran?"

the sound of your voice caused him to jolt once again, and he looked up at you. "o-oh, hey, darlin'.. um, i uh.."

"i see you haven't caught yourself anything."

"nope.." he mumbled, gaze straying elsewhere. he listened to your soft laughter as you sat down beside him. "that's okay," you promised, earning his eyes on you again, "don't worry. i'll catch something later. anyway, i brought you something."

when you handed him a box, he felt the warmth seep into his palms. he looked at it, then at you. "what's this?"

"some lunch. i made it specially for you, you deserve a break from all that harassment they give you. even though it's not much, i thought you might like it."

kieran blushed at this, putting the box on his lap and managing a small-voiced "thank you."

you made him feel so dizzy, so stupid in love. but he liked that. he liked it a lot.

john marston:

he was pretty self confident in today's hunt.

he'd managed a few kills, a deer and some birds. nothing too big. but he was still pretty proud. and with this confidence, he felt he'd be good with another kill.

however, as soon as he plucked an arrow to shoot with, he noticed you coming up the hill. he was quick to smile all dumb, shoving his bow and arrow away.

when you came over the hill, you halted your horse, looking to him as he made his way over to you and pulled you from your horse.

you noticed quickly that he was in a good mood, as he began to swing you around when you were in his arms. "there's my angel! how are you doing?" he asks, nuzzling you as he sat you down, listening to your giggles.

"great! i don't think i have to ask you how you are..." you tease, before stepping slightly back from him. "made you a little something, by the way.

this caught his attention, and he raised a brow, "what's that?" "made you a lunch, with your favorites." you said as you handed him the lunch. "i figured you'd like it. you've told me about two million times that my cooking's your favorite." holy shit, was this day going good. john was through the roof now.

john grinned like the idiot he was and took the box from you. "thanks, my angel. always did like your cooking, you do it real good. i always wonder who taught you." he admits, wrapping you up in his arms again, careful not to spill what he has in his hands. you giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw, "i try, and i'm glad my hard work is met with a good product."

"mmmhm. now, wanna sit down and share?"

the boy:

he wasn't usually the type to hunt.

however, today, he went out hunting, and it wasn't going so good. he ended up pouting on the forest floor, leaning against a tree.

"honey?" you call out, which distracts him from his moping. he looks like he lightened up a bit, but not as much as you hoped. you sighed when he looked back to his hands.

"not much of a result, huh, love?" you ask, dismounting your horse and approaching him. you squatted down beside him, putting a hand on his cheek and tipping his head up. he grunted a "no."

"huntin's stupid. i'm the best 'round here, but these damn animals.." he huffed. you only smiled softly, leaning in close to him and pressing a kiss to his temple. "will this cheer you up?" you ask, putting a small box in his hands.

he looked at you, confused, blue eyes searching your face and waiting for an explanation.

"it's lunch i made for you. i know you're not the biggest fan of hunting, so i decided i'd make you a lunch to cheer you up... and before you ask if there's any watermelon, yes, i put watermelon in it."

he grinned dumbly, his face growing warm and dusting with a rosy color, leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the nose. "thanks, i always did like your cooking... makes me feel better 'bout this."

"oh, i know. you're blushing all silly."

"i ain't!"

here's this! i hope this suffices for my first post in 8 centuries. i hope you enjoyed, have a nice day! love you guys ♡♡♡♡

[ajalholland]

Love Letters

characters: Zack Fair, Cloud Strife, Reno, Sephiroth, Vincent Valentine, and Rufus Shinra.

Scenario: Giving the Final Fantasy 7 men love letters.

Part one

(Y/n) crept into the male locker room, her heart pounding in her chest. She clutched the carefully folded love letter to her chest, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves.

Glancing around furtively, (Y/n) made her way over to Zack's locker, her palms sweating. Just as she was about to slip the letter inside, she heard the sound of the showers turning off.

(Y/n) froze, her blood running cold. Oh no, Zack was still here! She had thought everyone would be gone by now.

Quickly, (Y/n) ducked down behind a bench, hoping to avoid being seen. She held her breath, listening to the sound of footsteps approaching.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shower area, and (Y/n)'s heart nearly stopped. It was Zack, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Water droplets glistened on his toned chest and abs.

Zack blinked in surprise, spotting (Y/n) crouching behind the bench. "Hey! What are you doing here?" he asked, his eyebrows raising in confusion.

(Y/n) scrambled to her feet, her face flaming red. "I...I just...um..." she stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.(Y/n) couldn't help but let her gaze wander over Zack's exposed body, her heart racing..

Zack glanced down at himself, realizing his state of undress. "Oh, um..." he chuckled awkwardly. "Maybe you should let me get dressed. Then we can talk."

(Y/n) tried to avert her gaze, but found her eyes drawn back to Zack's muscular physique. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. "Yeah.. definitely." She nodded, as she made her way out of the locker room. That was so embarrassing!

Zack rushed to his locker, grabbing his clothes and quickly getting dressed. He couldn't help but smile to himself, wondering what (Y/n) was doing sneaking around the men's locker room.

Once dressed, Zack made his way out to find (Y/n) waiting nervously by the exit. He approached her with a playful smirk. "So, what was that all about, (Y/n)?"

(Y/n) fidgeted nervously, her face still bright red. "I... I have something for you," she mumbled, holding out the letter.

Zack took the envelope, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What is this?"

"Just... just read it, okay?" (Y/n) whispered, averting her gaze.

Curious, Zack opened the letter and began to read. As he did, his eyes widened in surprise. His heart began to race as he realized what the letter said.(Y/n) was confessing her feelings for him.

Zack looked up at (Y/n), his expression softening. "(Y/n), I... wow. I had no idea you felt this way."

(Y/n) peeked up at him shyly. "Do you... do you feel the same?"

Zack stepped closer, gently taking (Y/n)'s hands in his. "I've liked you for a long time now. I just never thought you'd return my feelings."

(Y/n)'s face lit up with happiness, tears of joy welling in her eyes. "Really? You mean it?"

"I really do," Zack confirmed, pulling (Y/n) into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you told me how you felt. I don't want to hide it anymore either."

(Y/n) hugged him back fiercely, hardly believing this was real. "I'm so happy," she whispered.

Zack pulled back slightly, cupping (Y/n)'s face in his hands. "Me too. More than you know."

As Cloud approached his apartment, he noticed a figure crouching by his door. (Y/n) was carefully slipping something under his door. Cloud paused, a curious wrinkle creasing his brow as he observed her. This wasn't the most usual thing he's caught (Y/n) doing, but he was still curious. He cleared his throat, announcing his presence. "What are you doing, (Y/n)?"

(Y/n) snapped to attention, her surprise mirroring in her eyes. As she recognized Cloud, her cheeks felt warm. "Cloud," she replied hurriedly, her attempt at nonchalance betrayed by her racing heart, "uh... nothing important." She tried to cover the discarded paper on the floor with her foot.

Cloud eyed the crumpled note peeking from under (Y/n)'s foot with a mixture of curiousity and amusement. He leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed as he regarded her. "Right," he commented dryly, "Because it's completely normal to drop things by people's doors late at night. Try again."

Her cheeks felt hot.. really hot. She hadn't anticipated Cloud catching her. Dropping the pretext of nonchalance, she huffed a bit. “Alright, fine,” she relented, her gaze dropping. “I just... I was leaving you a note," she admitted, the words spilling out reluctantly.

Cloud's mouth twitched with a hint of a smile. "A note, huh?" he said, a subtle lilt in his tone. He stepped closer, his eyes fixed on hers, not letting her off the hook that easily. "And why exactly would you be leaving me a note under my door?"

His close proximity brought a new wave of heat to (Y/n)'s face. She forced herself to maintain eye contact, despite the fluttering in her chest. "It's... personal," she murmured, the words escaping in a soft breath. "I just... there's something I want to say, and it's easier in written form."

Cloud raised an eyebrow. "Personal, huh?" he echoed, a hint of intrigue in his voice. He glanced at the note on the floor, then back at her. "Alright, let's see it." He held his hand out.

(Y/n) hesitated, the idea of him reading her confession while she was present making her heart pound in her chest. But she knew he wouldn't relent without it, so with a resigned sigh, she bent down and picked up the small note from the floor. She extended the note to Cloud, her hand trembling slightly.

Cloud took the note, his fingers gently brushing against hers. The touch sent a jolt through him, but he kept his expression composed. He unfolded the paper, revealing the handwritten message. His eyes scanned the words, his heart quickening with each syllable. The realization of what the note contained slowly dawned on him.

It was a love confession...

Cloud felt a flutter in his chest as he read the heartfelt words. His stoic facade wavered momentarily, his breath hitching in his throat. He looked at (Y/n)'s, his eyes wide and a deep blush on his face.

"Is this... Is this what I think it is?" he asked quietly, his voice laced with a mix of surprise and disbelief. His hands, clutching the note, trembled slightly. They were good friends, yes, but he had never allowed himself to believe she harbored feelings for him.

"Yes..." (Y/n) managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's exactly what it is."

Cloud's mind reeled. The reality of her confession hit him like a ton of bricks. He couldn't deny the rapid thump of his heart against his ribcage, nor the way his stomach somersaulted. A strange mixture of emotions swirled within him. Surprise, flattery, but also a hint of panic.

(Y/n) anxiously waited for Cloud to say something, anything that could ease the tension. The silence felt thick and heavy, each second lingering for an eternity. She fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, her eyes tracing the pattern nervously. As the silence continued, her fear that he didn't feel the same began to grow. She couldn't bear the thought of his rejection.

Cloud, seeing the anxiety etched on (Y/n)'s face, quickly snapped out of his brief daze. He realized he hadn't given any reaction yet. His words stumbled forward in a mix of surprise and genuine warmth. "I..." he started, the note still clutched in his hands. "(Y/n), I had no idea. I..." He ran a hand through his spiky hair, struggling to find the right words.

"Go on.." She said, her voice trembled with a mix of nervousness and hope. "Please, just... Say something, anything."

Cloud took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers, full of sincerity. "I...I never thought I'd hear something like this, from you." His smile was tentative, tinged with a hint of vulnerability that softened his typically reserved demeanor. "Truth is, (Y/n)... I like you too.. a lot."

The world seemed to stop for a moment. Hope blossomed in (Y/n)'s eyes, and a joyful gasp escaped her lips. A rush of emotions surged through her, making her heart flutter wildly in her chest. "You.. You do?"

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, the relief was evident on her face. Her eyes were filled with an intense earnestness. She took a step closer to Cloud. "Really? You really do?"

Cloud chuckled, his usual aloof demeanor giving way to a more tender expression. "Yeah, I do," he said, his voice soft. He took a step towards her, closing the gap between them. "I really do."

Reno whistled cheerfully to himself as he strolled up to his apartment complex, the warm summer sun shining down on him. It had been a long day at work, but he was in a good mood, looking forward to relaxing at home.

As he approached his mailbox, Reno noticed an unusual envelope peeking out from among the usual bills and flyers. His brow furrowed slightly as he pulled it out.

"What's this now?" Reno muttered to himself with a smirk, tucking the letter into his jacket pocket. He headed up to his apartment, his curiosity piqued.

Once inside, Reno kicked off his shoes and flopped down on the couch, fishing out the letter. He examined it for a moment before carefully opening it, his eyes scanning over the words.

As he read, Reno's grin slowly faded, replaced by a look of shock. He read the letter through twice, just to be sure he hadn't misunderstood.

(Y/n) liked him. Romantically. And not just a casual crush - she was confessing her deep, sincere feelings for him.

Reno set the letter down, running a hand through his red hair as he tried to process this unexpected development. He had always thought (Y/n) as a friend, a cute and quirky coworker. Of course they had flirted before... a lot actually, but he never imagined she would actually like him the way he liked her.

Reno leaned back on the couch, letting out a long breath. He knew he needed to respond to (Y/n), to let her know how he felt. But he had no idea what to say.

Should he tell her he returned her feelings? Or pretend he didn't see the letter? If they started dating, how would it affect their work?

In the end, he decided the only thing to do was talk to (Y/n) face-to-face. He couldn't avoid this situation or put it off any longer.

Reno stood up, determination in his eyes as he pulled out his phone.

Reno quickly typed out a message to (Y/n). "Hey, got a minute? There's something we need to talk about."

He hit send before he could second guess himself. Now all he could do was wait for her response, trying not to let his nerves get the better of him.

Not long after, Reno heard a knock at his door. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before opening it.

(Y/n) stood there, looking adorably nervous. Reno's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her.

"Come on in," he said, stepping aside to let her enter.

(Y/n) walked in, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She glanced around Reno's apartment before finally meeting his gaze.

"So, um, what did you want to talk about?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly.

Reno ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words. "Look, about that letter you left me..."

(Y/n) kinda figured. "It's cheesy, isn't it?" She asked.

"Maybe a little," Reno confirmed with a nod. "But I just...I need to know. Do you really mean what you wrote? About having feelings for me?"

(Y/n) bit her lip, looking like she wanted to bolt. But after a moment, she took a deep breath and met Reno's eyes. "I do. I really do have feelings for you, Reno. I have for a while now."

Reno's heart soared at her words. He took a step closer, reaching out to gently take her hand. "I...I feel the same way, (Y/n). I don't want to pretend otherwise anymore."

(Y/n)'s eyes shone with happiness. "Really? You mean it?"

Reno smiled, bringing her hand up to his lips to press a tender kiss to her knuckles. "I really do. You're amazing, (Y/n). I'd be lucky to have you as my girlfriend."

(Y/n) let out a squeal of joy, throwing her arms around Reno's neck. "Yes!"

Sephiroth was surprised when (Y/n) came up to him, her cheeks flushed pink as she awkwardly extended a small envelope towards him. Before he could even respond, she darted away, disappearing around a corner.Puzzled, Sephiroth looked down at the envelope in his hand. It was obvious that it held a letter of some sort, and judging by (Y/n)'s behavior, it was likely something important.Curious, Sephiroth carefully tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. The page was written in elegant and tidy handwriting, with each word carefully chosen and arranged.As Sephiroth read the letter, his eyes widened slightly in surprise, and his cheeks flushed a rosy color. It was.. a love confession.It made him feel giddy.Sephiroth found himself reading the letter again and again, unable to believe what he was seeing. A love letter.. from the quiet, composed (Y/n)? He couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in his chest. Sephiroth had always quietly harbored feelings for (Y/n), but had never expected her to feel the same way.He suddenly found himself wondering how to respond. Should he go find (Y/n) and talk to her? But what would he say? He wasn't good with expressing his own feelings, not to mention he didn't know how to respond to such a love confession.

Sephiroth bit his lip, trying to think of a plan.

As he thought, Sephiroth suddenly realized something. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he had an idea. He quickly took out a piece of paper and pen, and carefully started writing down his response.

Sephiroth found himself strolling through the halls, the envelope clutched tightly in his hand. He was looking, casually glancing around for (Y/n). He had to find her.

Sephiroth's eyes widened slightly as he saw (Y/n) walking through the halls alone. He had been searching for her all over the building, and hadn't expected to stumble upon her so easily, but there she was, just walking down the corridor, seemingly all alone. As though sensing his eyes on her, her gaze flicked up, and their eyes met.

(Y/n)'s heart rate increased, feeling as if it would beat right out of her chest. Her palms felt sweaty and her stomach was twisted up in knots. As she met Sephiroth's gaze, her cheeks felt warm.

Sephiroth's breath hitched in his throat as he stared at (Y/n). He found himself completely mesmerized as he watched her, and found it hard to think clearly. He took a few strides towards her, coming to a stop when he was just a few feet away from her, holding out the letter he wrote for her.

(Y/n)'s gaze flickered down to the letter held out in front of her, her confusion briefly overriding the nervousness and embarrassment she felt. She gingerly took the envelope from Sephiroth’s hand, her touch brushing against his skin.

"W-what's this?" (Y/n) stuttered as she stared down at the letter, her heart racing.

Sephiroth's heart leapt as he felt (Y/n)'s skin brush against his, sending a shiver up his spine. He watched her for a moment, his cheeks turning a deeper red. "Open it." Sephiroth's voice came out as a quiet murmur, but was still deep and smooth.

(Y/n)'s fingers trembled as she slowly pulled back the flap of the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. She unfolded it and began to read, her heart racing with anticipation.

As (Y/n) read through the letter, Sephiroth watched her closely, his heart pounding painfully in his chest, hoping desperately that she would like his response. He became more anxious, fidgeting with his fingers anxiously.

After several long moments, (Y/n) finally finished reading the letter, her mind reeling and her heart racing. She slowly looked up from the page, her face flushed a deep red.Finally, she managed to find her voice again. "Y-you like me too?"

Sephiroth gave a slight nod, his usually composed demeanor replaced with a nervous, flustered look. “I… yes, I do. Very much.” He murmured, his voice trembling slightly.

(Y/n) crept silently into the room where Vincent Valentine's coffin was kept. She had a letter clutched tightly in her hand, one she had spent hours agonizing over and perfecting. Her heart raced as she approached the coffin, knowing that Vincent was likely asleep inside.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) carefully opened the lid of the coffin, just enough to slide the letter inside. She was about to close it again when suddenly, Vincent's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist in an iron grip.

(Y/n) let out a startled yelp as Vincent yanked her forward, pulling her into the coffin with him. She landed on top of him with a soft "oof", the letter falling forgotten beside them.

"What are you doing?" Vincent asked, his voice low and gravelly. His eyes glowed an eerie silver in the darkness of the coffin.

"I...I..." (Y/n) stammered, her face flushing bright red. She couldn't believe Vincent had caught her in the act of trying to sneak him a love letter. How embarrassing!

Vincent's gaze softened slightly as he looked up at the flustered girl perched on top of him. He held up the letter. "Is this what you wanted to give me?"

(Y/n) nodded, her face burning with embarrassment. "Y-yes," she admitted in a tiny voice.

"I'll read it then." Vincent  Vincent unfolded the letter and began to read, his brow furrowing slightly as he took in (Y/n)'s heartfelt words. (Y/n) watched him anxiously, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for his reaction.

After a long moment, Vincent set the letter aside and looked up at (Y/n) with an intensity that made her shiver. "You have feelings for me," he stated, his voice low and rough.

(Y/n) nodded shyly, unable to meet his piercing gaze. "I...I do. I've had them for a while now," she admitted softly.

Vincent reached up and cupped (Y/n)'s cheek, his thumb gently brushing over her skin. "And what do you want from me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

(Y/n) swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. "I...I want to be with you. To make you happy."

Vincent's eyes searched hers for a long moment before he pulled her down into a searing kiss. (Y/n) gasped against his lips, her body melting into his as she returned the kiss with equal passion.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathing heavily. Vincent's eyes were filled with a tenderness (Y/n) had never seen before.

"Then be mine," he whispered, pulling her into a kiss once more.

Rufus Shinra sat behind his desk, his eyes scanning over the documents laid out before him. He was in the middle of an important paperwork when his secretary walked into the office.

"Mr. Shinra, sir," she said, holding a large bouquet of red roses and a card. "These just arrived for you via courier."

Rufus raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. He took the flowers and card, dismissing his secretary with a nod. He set the roses aside for the moment, his attention focused on the card.

The letter was addressed to him personally, with a short, handwritten note on the front that simply said, "For my beloved Rufus."

Curiosity getting the better of him, Rufus carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. He unfolded it and began to read, his eyes widening with each passing sentence.

Rufus felt his cheeks grow warm as he read the love confession, a fluttering sensation stirring in his chest. He had to admit, he was taken aback. Did (Y/n) really like him in that way?

Rufus continued to read, he was flattered that someone as wonderful as (Y/n) could have feelings for him. He set the letter down, leaning back in his chair as he tried to process his thoughts.

Rufus felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he considered an idea. Yes, he would write (Y/n) back. And not just any letter, but a heartfelt response that would make it clear just how much her feelings meant to him.

He pulled out a sheet of expensive, high-quality paper and a fancy fountain pen. For several minutes, Rufus poured his heart onto the page, writing about how touched he was by (Y/n)'s confession, and how he had secretly harbored feelings for her as well.

When the letter was complete, Rufus folded it carefully and placed it into an envelope. He then selected a few thoughtful gifts to accompany it - a bottle of perfume, a pair of diamond earrings, and a box of expensive chocolates.

"Please make sure this reaches Miss (Y/n) right away," Rufus instructed his secretary as he handed over the package.

His secretary nodded, taking the items with a knowing smile. "Of course, Mr. Shinra. I'm sure Miss (Y/n) will be overjoyed."

Rufus couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as he watched her leave. He hoped (Y/n) would be happy with his response, and that this would be the start of something beautiful between them.

.....

(Y/n) was surprised to find someone knocking on her door. She opened it to find a delivery man holding a large box, along with an envelope addressed to her.

"Delivery for Miss (Y/n)," the man said, handing over the items.

(Y/n) thanked him, closing the door once she had the package in hand. She quickly set the box down and opened the envelope, pulling out the letter inside.

Her eyes widened as she read, her heart racing with each passing sentence. It was from Rufus, and it was a response to her love letter.

(Y/n) sank down onto the couch, hardly able to believe what she was reading. Rufus returned her feelings. He wanted to be with her.

She set the letter aside and eagerly opened the box, gasping in delight at the contents. The perfume, earrings, and chocolates were all items she would never dare to buy for herself, they were so expensive.

(Y/n) felt tears of joy prickling at the corners of her eyes. She couldn't believe this was really happening. Rufus Shinra, the man she had been secretly in love with for so long, actually liked her back.

She grabbed her phone and quickly typed out a message to Rufus. "Thank you for the gifts and the lovely letter. I'm so happy you feel the same way about me. Let's meet up soon to discuss our future together."

[yandere-sins]

Monstober - Day 7: Sphinx

Sphinx are my personal horror. Like, they actually manage to scare me. So... I tried to make them more likable for me, although it makes me add more fiction to an already existing concept :')

Prompt: Sphinx | Riddles // Sand // Giant Warnings: Yandere, Fem!Reader (Gets called "girl" only once but I should probably leave a note here), Violence (Sharp Teeth, Claws, Mention of Death, Mention of being buried alive, Being mauled to death (not the main character)), Monster and Monster Characteristics, Long Post

"Please... Please, you got to help me!"

Your sobs grew louder as you fell to your knees before the giant creature, your hands latching onto her paw, and for some reason, she didn't use it to crush you right then and there. Perhaps it was the desperation in your voice, or maybe the guardian of the ancient resting place of so many of your ancestors was weak to tears. Still, she didn't even growl despite you bursting into her sanctuary unannounced and, frankly, rudely.

Following the tales and warnings you had received since childhood, you should have acted properly and with dignity. But instead, you were inconsolable as you sobbed into her fur. Something about the image of the great sphinx and you, a mere human at her feet, had comical traits of one of the performances you made at the theater. However, what you once loved so much was now the furthest thing on your mind.

"Child of Man, do not sully my fur so," the sphinx finally spoke, and you rose from her paw, wiping the tears and snot from your face.

"I'm so sorry, Great Protector. But I just don't know what to do."

The sphinx shook her paw as if to get rid of the tears you had wetted it with before she sat down on her rear legs. Even though you knew she was alive, you couldn't help but feel like she was a golden monument. The statue of a god you were praying to—truly, as she was your last hope.

"Pray tell your worries then. I've been visited so little by your kind in the last years, it shall dissolve my boredom."

"They want to marry me off!" you explained bluntly, and her slitted pupils expanded upon hearing this before she closed her eyes altogether. Her whole body collapsed as she roared bellowing laughter at your misery. More tears—this time from frustration and disappointment—flooded your eyes. You couldn't even defend yourself with the sound of her laughter carrying far and wide through the cliffs all around the burial site, echoing and resounding, slapping you with her mockery.

"That's it?" she asked dismissively, making it clear your concerns weren't hers. "You come to me with a matter so trifling? Why should I care, Human, who you are to marry?"

"Because he's old!" you screamed against her roars, and though not disappearing completely, her laughter grew more subtle, turning into chuckles.

"So? Is that not desirable? Do you not wish to part ways with a man you don't want?"

It was nearly impossible to hold back your raging feelings of despair and anger and temper yourself. You should have expected her not to be indulgent to your whims, but you still had hoped as she was a protector. Leaning her head down to you, she twisted it from side to side, staring at you expectantly as she waited for your answer. Her lips parting to reveal her fangs should have made you quickly gather your bearings and leave, but you simply couldn't.

Death by being eaten, perhaps, was more merciful than what this marriage would be.

"They'll bury me with him."

Shoulders slumping, you looked down, staring at the sand softly clouding on the ground as the sphinx moved to stand before you properly again. This time, you didn't face her. Instead, you listened to the ruffling of her fur, wishing you could bury yourself in it instead. Of course, the great sphinx was no pet, but she resembled the cat you once called your own with her brown fur. It made you want to seek comfort.

"He won't make it very long anymore, and his last wish is to be married. My family couldn't refuse receiving most of his estate in exchange for my hand in marriage, but now they won't even reconsider, knowing the family plans to bury me with him—alive!"

The sphinx hummed, sitting back down again, which made more sand clouds rise, and you looked up, straight into her eyes watching you.

"It is the way of all things except mine. You would not wish for a life as long as I have. Why defy your fate?"

"Because it's too early!" you protested weakly, letting out a sigh.

"I studied to perform at the theater, to sing and dance. I worked my way up in society, and there was no one who aided me! They are all my accomplishments! And I barely had a chance to showcase what I can do and what I have studied so hard for! All I did cannot lead to me pitifully ending in the tomb of a man I didn't ask to marry!"

You sighed, shaking your head. Clasping your hands together in the motion of a prayer, you held them above your head, bowing to her as you made your final attempt at pleading with her. It almost seemed lost, but you couldn't sink deeper than you already had.

"They are coming for me soon. They always feared I'd run away, so they'll not stop their pursuit until they find me here, where I am asking, for once in my life, for help. Your help. Please, Great Sphinx, find it in you to aid me!"

"I see," she finally relented, and your pulse quickened while you tried not to get your hopes up. Her understanding meant little when she decided not to take action. "Then what do I gain?"

Your breath escaped you as you looked up at her, trying to wager her thoughts. What was there you could give? A monster's help never came cheap, but it was much easier to figure out what they wanted by letting them tell you, their instincts never betraying them, unlike how humans acted on greed and desire.

"What do you want?"

Her tail flicked in the air, smashing and rattling the ground she sat on. Briefly, she averted her eyes, rolling them unnaturally slowly in their sockets as she thought, but soon enough, her lips split into the uncanny grin that suited her well as she came to her conclusion.

"You'll solve my riddle. If you can't, you die here and now and feed me." Her grin widened, sharp teeth glistening between them as if she enjoyed the thought.

"If you solve it, I will ask the same riddle to your pursuers once they come here. If they answer it correctly, I will eat them, and you are free to go, but if not, you will stay here for as long as I wish, amusing me with your song and dance while I get to feed on those that come to get you. Is that a deal you want to make, Child of Man?"

"Yes," you replied, not thinking twice. In reality, you were nervous, your heart thumping out of your chest, ribs aching. But you had come prepared, and you knew that it was possible for the sphinx to give you a riddle, her favorite pastime. Getting to your feet, you braced yourself, noticing how the fur of the creature ruffled in excitement or perhaps the anticipation of a good meal. Regardless, you told yourself to not be discouraged by her confidence.

"Then tell me, what means more to you than it does to me?"

You knew there was no time limit on the question. And yet, you felt the pressure of the sphinx awaiting your answer with hunger in her stomach and desire in her eyes. Reckoning that she wasn't as malicious as the childhood stories made her out to be, didn't help you in the face of your demise. She may have enjoyed having her riddle solved, but to her, it didn't really matter as she came out as the winner. Only for you was it a matter of life and death, and...

"My life..." you whispered out loud, the thought escaping you before you could hold yourself back. Even with your hand clasping over your mouth could you not take back the involuntary answer you gave the sphinx, and she cackled maniacally at your mistake.

"Correct," she purred, settling down on all fours and bumping her enormous head against your body, just like a cat would. Curling your hands into fists, you resisted the urge to pet her, the sound of her purring rumbling through the ground.

"You may stand beside me, for they are coming. Their armor is such a bothering ringing in my ears, yet it will save them from nothing."

An enormous boulder fell off your shoulders, even bringing forth a small smile as you quickly moved forward, positioning yourself next to her paw again. Strangely enough, it was the safest place for you at that moment, and you held onto her fur as the rattling of armor and shouting reached you that she had long heard.

"It's not usually so lively here," the sphinx sighed, her tail flicking and whirling up more sand.

"But it is, always, someone's grave."

"So, what will it be?" the sphinx asked, impatiently waiting for the answer from the four men who had been debating over the riddle for way too long. They felt the pressure, too, you were sure.

Although they made their intentions clear that they were here for you, speaking reverently and dutifully to the sphinx, she told them they'd have to solve the riddle or die trying to tear you from her grasp. However, you didn't forget your own deal with her, and between checking if she was preoccupied, you had been gesturing to the men, trying to help them and yourself.

It felt terrible since you were trying to save yourself by sacrificing them, but it had to be done. At least, you wouldn't have to go back to your village either way, but staying with the sphinx and perhaps one day becoming her meal wasn't the consequence you wanted to have either.

So you pointed at yourself since they wanted you. Then you did the universal sign of chopping your head off to signal death. Death and life, the man should have understood it since they wanted you alive and well to marry the old man. And finally, you pointed towards them. Their life, that's all they had to say.

The sphinx had no reason to honor her promises, but at the same time, she didn't have a reason to save you either. Yet, here she was, doing it in a way that suited her, even if it was hard to believe that despite her monstrous appearance, giant size, and appetite for humans, she could be so benevolent.

"Have you decided yet?" she asked, changing up her question in hopes of making one of the men nervous enough to give an answer.

Surprisingly, one of them reacted, the youngest of the soldiers nervously stepping forward, wringing his hands and glancing back over his shoulder a few times to get confirmation.

"The... The girl," he answered, and you felt your body stiffen as he gave you a short smile, not knowing the verdict yet. However, the sphinx bristled in excitement, cackling like she had with your answer before she lowered her head, grinning at the young man.

"Wrong," she revealed, fangs snapping forward, and you yelped in horror and shock as you heard the crunching of bones and metal, one bite enough to break through the man's body. The sphinx got up on her four feet, and with an ease that shouldn't have been impossible for a body this big, she pounced on the others that screamed and readied their weapons, just not in time to fight her off.

Maybe you screamed as the men were ripped apart one by one, a fun hunt for the sphinx, but not so much for you who had to witness it.

Maybe you simply cowered in silence until their gurgles and crunching bones stopped resounding in the atrium of the ancient burial site.

"They are wrong, you know?" you heard the sphinx call out to you, and you slowly lifted your head, not wanting to see the carnage on the ground. But her face, smothered in blood and looking so much more horrific than it had before, wasn't easy to stomach either. The wind blew through the pillars surrounding the hall, dragging out the sand stained with the blood of innocent soldiers who had been sent to "rescue" you and the severity of the situation began to sink in.

You only felt the tears brimming at your eyelids, but you didn't spill them, not when you were almost worse off than these guys. The sphinx laid down next to you, separating you from the entrance and exit to her lair with her gigantic body. Letting you go was not her plan, and you had agreed to this arrangement without thinking twice.

"What about?" you asked dully, watching her very human face lick her blood-stained paws with the naturalness of any feline creature. You'd have to accept that about her if you were stuck here now. But the thought had yet to fully register.

"You mean a lot to me, even if they didn't think so. But at least I get to keep you now, and you'll be my little songbird."

Tears broke loose as you sacked to the floor, her tail flopping against the sand as you began sobbing miserably. And she let you, as she had from the very beginning. Was this an outcome she had anticipated? One she allowed to happen as the opportunity arose? You would have been dead had you not done anything, buried with the corpse of a man you didn't even know. But now that you were in this situation, you realized your death had always been predetermined.

You merely prolonged the fateful day that you'd be buried here.

[crimsonender]

Mikaila Orchard sucks at Paneling

I debated making this a video or not. But, I decided against it. If you guys are interested in me making videos about this sort of thing, let me know and perhaps it's something I could cover in the future.

So Mikaila Turkleson aka Mikaila Orchard has always made... questionable art. To me it seems like a weird amalgamation of Equestria Girls and Sophie Labelle's art. Anatomy bad character design bad etc etc. I don't however see a lot of people talk about her paneling.

Recently, Mikaila and presumably her partner, Lily Orchard started a new art endeavour. I assume to turn over a new leaf and bury the now-infamous Pokemadhouse. You can find it over at bhaalspawnfunnies. It appears as if the blog will focus around the player character of Baldur's Gate 1, Gorion's Ward, and their half sister, Imoen. This is the first entry.

Source

Where to start? My first impression is that this is very poorly drawn, and low effort even by Mikaila's standards. The speech bubbles are low contrast against the background. The ground/floor blurry blob looks extremely bad. As a fellow artist I get the distinct impression that Mikaila did not want to draw this piece.

Moreover, there's a huge issue with the panelling and pacing. Comics are really cool in that you can kind of use panelling and negative space to "time" jokes, leading the eye where you want it to go and using framing and other art tricks to make a punchline land a little better.

This "comic" has none of that. There is no pacing, there is no comedic timing. It's all bland and presented as a block. I took it upon myself to re-panel this piece, and I've made two versions: One, with Mikaila's art style and visuals, but with the panelling slightly adjusted to be more punchy and effective, the other I completely redrew, using the same joke.

Excuse the sloppiness. I'm not going to expend too much energy polishing and gilding this turd.

That being said, this is already a huge improvement. Even if Mikaila isn't at the technical level of a professional artist, this is very attainable with only a few more minutes of effort. The timing is punchier, the speech bubbles draw your eyes down the page, and even without colour coding, it's clear which of the characters is talking. This isn't exactly a hot take but in my opinion you shouldn't need colour coding on a comic page to denote who is speaking. It should be very obvious! Moreover, speech bubbles should be included in the composition, not added as an after thought.

I'm guessing the original comic took her less than an hour to make. I think I'm being generous here, honestly if this took her more than twenty minutes I would be concerned. Being generous though I gave myself one hour to make a version completely redrawn.

This was again, very quickly put together and of course is in no way perfect, but its to demonstrate what a little bit of thought can do to improve a comic page. I decided to change the pose of Gorion because making family guy references should be a a cardinal sin for artists, as well as make the characters a little more recognizable. "Aryana" is, notably, Lily's OC and bears little resemblance to the canon character of Gorion's Ward, but considering Baldurs Gate does allow character customization and dialogue choices, I decided to make their gender a little more ambiguous so players of any gender could see their version of Gorion's Ward in the comic, but kept the elf with long dark hair appearance from Mikaila's original. I also looked over the pic after I was all done and ready to upload and noticed some small flaws I could easily fix, and went back and did those things. You should always go over your pieces when you're finished them with fresh eyes before you submit them as a final piece.

Again, this certainly isn't perfect and I'd probably put more effort into a piece with characters I care about and a joke I actually find funny, but I hope this demonstrates that pacing and expression really are everything in comics.

[hybbart]

Hey guys, I would really appreciate it if you stopped sending me messages about Lizzie's appearance. I get that most of you are just happy and/or think it's a compliment, but I've literally never had so many weird comments on a woman's body before, and it's getting really uncomfortable.

While I know I'm not always as good about it for men, as a character artist and as I hope is made clear in the design sheet I did for all the hermit and empire girls, I have always and will always draw all sorts of body types. That includes not just fat people, but fat people with different distributions and shape language- different everything. Lizzie and Cleo and Stress may all be fat and round but I like to think I did a very good job of making them all distinct in shape from each other in a way that converys their character.

I redesigned my Lizzie recently because I was wanting to draw her more, and I wanted her to allign better with my mental idea of her. She hadn't before because 1) I started off drawing her as the ocean queen and mayor who are very unlike her base self and monstrous, because she's cool like that. And 2) I never sat down and made a design sheet for her, so I constantly drew her differently and mixed her up with my Gem design. (which, go firgure, as a fan of sister characters, when I finally worked it out that mental idea ended up having a body type similar to my own little sister. Which makes it extra uncomfortable on a personal level.)

The fact is, when I draw women people casually comment on their body a LOT more, which is already a bit uncomfortable- and baffling, given that most of my sexualized pictures are of men. I get similar comments about how tall Pearl is, I've probably gotten more comments about how tall Pearl is than I have about how tall Jimmy is, and I draw him multiple times a week. But those comments are often at least done with a bit of amusement and not just straight up ogling her.

Every single time I've drawn Lizzie recently, though, I got an absolute flood of comments specifically talking about her body and nothing else. How fat she is, how attractive she is because she's fat, cat calls, and other more unsavoury language. Even backhanded compliments. I certainly didn't try to make her ugly, but I've not drawn her in pinups. She's doing the exact same things as every other character I draw, including herself before my redesign. And given that timing and VERY pointed nature of the comments, it's not exact rocket science.

Most of the comments haven't been too gross, thankfully. I'll chalk that up to a lot of the messages being people projecting onto her, which- that's a whole different can of discomfort worms. But it is constant and it is in place of literally anything else. I draw a whole comic about a funny moment with multiple people, and art I'm pretty happy with, and the only thing a dozen asks have to say is "Lizzie's fat!!🤤" which stands in quite the contrast to all the comparatively few comments about Jimmy being about how I drew his banana costume.

Anyways, what I'm asking is to please just be a bit more normal about women's bodies. I get that it's rarer, and it makes some people happy when they see characters like them, but focusing on how beautiful an unconventional woman is is still objectifying and making that woman's beauty her worth.

[loves0phelia]

Country Girl

Summery: Eddie’s music career is getting to much, what happens when he takes a vacation to a small countryside town?

Words: 4,1k

Warnings: spelling mistakes, characters gets in underwear, mention of drinking alcohol.

A/N: this sucks but I haven’t written in 2 months sooo I hope you enjoy xx

“Are you kidding me?”

“No Eds, you're going to Spring Lake.” Gareth stood with his hands on his hips with a fatherlike glare fixated on his friend whom he almost didn't recognize nowadays. 

“Why would I be going in this shit hole? I am fine right where I am” He said the last bit of his sentence with a long tired sigh as he planted himself down on the beat-up couch in the trailer where all the costumes and concert essentials were stored. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was greasy and sweaty sticking to his forehead. 

“You're not okay Eddie. We can't recognize you anymore. You need some time off, we all do. and it would be better if you got out of the city for the summer ” Eddie scoffed at this and rubbed his hand over his face.

“Ok. Who's we? And who put “we” in charge of me?” He laughed humorlessly and stood up from his seat with an accusatory finger pointed at Gareth's face.

“Julie, but we all agreed with her, Eddie. You can barely stand during our shows because you drank too much beforehand, even the press is talking about it! You're making it hard for all of us-”

“Shut up! Shut up!” His voice bounced on the metal walls and rang in Gareth's ears making him visibly cringe before he stormed out. 

As soon as he stepped out, the cameras started flashing and blinding him, capturing his angry features and red eyes. He couldn't wait to see the newspaper with the various headlines about him and his addictions.

He yanked open the limousine door that was initially the band's way of transport but he couldn't care less about how they would get to the hotel. He slides in, slamming it shut behind him. His eyes flashed with irritation as he leaned forward.

"To the hotel, and step on it, will you? I’ve already had enough shit today. No detours, no shortcuts—just get me there as fast as you can." He barked at the chauffeur.

Without caring for a response he slumped back against the seat, glaring out the window,

The drive was short, as requested. He was back at the hotel before anyone else. Still fuming with rage and decided to dial a number he only called for emergencies.

ring 

ring

ring

“Hello?” The man's voice was soothing in Eddie's ears. 

“Hey, Wayne.” An angry tear fell out of Eddie's eye.

“Eddie, boy do you know how late it is?” Eddie turned his head slightly to look at the clock that lay on the modern-looking bedside table.

“Sorry, I just- I need to talk to you” his throat contracted another tear threatening to fall from his brown doe eyes.

“What's wrong son?” Despite Wayne's strong and deep voice, the concern was clear.

“Julie and the band wants-” Once again his hand made its way into his hair, this time gripping angrily. “They want me to go to Spring Lake for the summer as if they can just send me away! Like- Like to get rid of me” he groaned into the receiver.

“Eddie listen to me” Wayne signed sadly for Eddie.

“What?” 

“I requested it to your manager, okay? I've seen you on TV and I can't even count on my fingers the number of times you've called me in the middle of the night while being drunk. You need a break, son” 

“No, no! I'm fine Wayne” Both of his knees started trembling as he couldn't help the tears from cascading down his cheeks. He felt lost and he couldn't find a way to return.

“You're not Eds. You need to find a way to get better, please listen to Julie when she comes to talk to you, goodnight, son. I love you” The phone pressed against Eddie's ear went flat as the line disconnected. 

He sat there, staring blankly ahead, his face drained of colour. He barely notices the tear that escapes now.

He was used to getting comments from Gareth and Jeff or the rest of the band but never from his uncle.

His chest felt heavy, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to scream, to do something, but nothing came. Instead, he remained still, unable to process everything the night unfolded. 

He felt disconnected as if the world was moving on without him, until a knock came to the door. His eyes which looked blankly at the carpet floor snapped to the hotel room door. He didn't bother to stand figuring out the person on the other side would get the message and leave him alone. 

Unfortunately, the door opened and Julie entered the room. 

“Did you talk to Wayne?” She asked, her voice sharp like a thorn. 

“I did”

“I should've told Gareth to keep his mouth shut about this, it wasn't his place to tell you. I'm your manager, I should be the one taking care of this mess” Her black leather boots stumped on the floor as she approached the bed he was sitting on.

“Wayne said you loved going to Spring Lake as a kid, that's why we thought it would be a great idea.” She added.

“Yeah trailer park, poor, didn't have a life Eddie loved going there, it was the only place where I wasn't freak because everything is disconnected there.” Julie’s eyes soften, her heart feeling sad at the mention of Ed's childhood. 

“I have a life now, I'm a rockstar, and I'm important to people” 

“But you're losing yourself in the process. You need to go back to your roots, and learn what's really important” Eddie sighed in defeat there was no denying it.

“Go to Spring Lake for a couple of weeks and if you hate it, come back. My niece has a cottage she can welcome you”

…

His fingers drummed impatiently on the armrest as the car slowed down to avoid a group of cyclists taking up the road.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered under his breath, glancing out the window at two horses casually munching on herbs. 

The car finally pulled up to a small cottage-looking house, it was small, probably only big enough for two bedrooms and one bathroom. It had a porch swing and a bunch of potted flowers. It was far from what he was used to now.  

The driver opened the door for him, his black combat boots crunched against the gravel. Eddie's expression was clearly stating that he’d rather be anywhere else.

"Let’s just get this over with," he sighed, and he walked towards the entrance of the house. As Marcus “driver” started unloading his luggage.

He raised his fist to connect it to do wooden door frame around the screen door but at the same time the door on the other side swung open as fast as a rush of wind

He wrinkled his nose slightly, the faint smell of fresh baked goods interfered with his overpriced cologne.

“Hi!” you said in a welcoming tone. Eddie was mesmerized by your sun-kissed skin glowing so naturally. Your beautiful hair, loosely tied back with a ribbon, cascaded down your shoulders. your overalls are dirty but charming with a simple floral pattern embroidered into the pockets.

Your face broke into a wide, genuine smile, your eyes crinkled at the corners with the kind of happiness that he wasn't used to seeing.

“It's so nice to see you, Eddie!,” You walked forward pushing the screen door that was separating you both to greet him, making Eddie step back a few feet almost tripping down the small stairs leading up to the porch.,

“I’m y/n. It’s so nice to have you here, I made some blueberry muffins and cinnamon rolls I didn't know which one you preferred… oh! I also have some lemon pie. come in!.”

He barely managed to suppress a groan. Of course, you would be cheerful and kind. Everyone in these small towns always was. Still, there was something about you that made him pause. Maybe it was the way your smile didn’t get flatter even as you faced his cold demeanour or the way your eyes sparkled as you spoke about the dessert you had made for him specifically. He shook off the thought, reminding himself that he was here out of obligation, not to make friends.

“Thanks,” he replied shortly, his tone cold as he glanced around the room, doing his best to avoid looking directly at you.

you didn’t seem bothered by his lack of enthusiasm. Instead, you clasped her hands together, your smile never fading.

“I’ve got your room all ready. there's a dresser and a fantastic view of the lake behind the house. I hope you’ll like it.”

He sighed, already regretting the trip, but nodded. “Sure. Lead the way.”

As you walked ahead of him, he couldn't help but notice the way your hips swayed gracefully. He quickly looked away, feeling annoyed at himself. He wasn’t here to admire the locals, least of all a girl who looked like she belonged in a summer daydream.

You led him up the narrow hallway, talking about various details about the house and the people in town, the kind of small talk that would usually make him roll his eyes. But today, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he found himself listening, even if he didn’t respond.

“Here, this is your room and mine is right there” You pointed to the door right next to ‘his’ 

He grunted a thanks, stepping inside and without saying a word he closed the door shut. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. You were beautiful, he admitted to himself, but in a way that was different from the women he was used to. Something was refreshing about you, something real.

But then he shook his head, pushing the thought away. It didn’t matter how beautiful you were. He was here for a few days at most, just to make his manager happy and then he’d be back to his world, far away from this little town and its infuriatingly sunny inhabitants. Still, as he threw himself onto the bed, he couldn’t quite get your smile out of his mind.

….

Eddie stirred beneath the soft blankets, blinking against the unwelcome brightness. He wasn’t used to waking up to the sound of birds chirping outside the window or the scent of fresh coffee wafting through the air. For a moment, he forgot where he was, his mind still groggy from sleep. The sheets were softer, crumb-free and smelled flowery.

Then it hit him—he was in your house in Spring Lake.  The day of his arrival felt like a dream, a bad dream. He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face as he sat up, his hair wild and eyes heavy with remaining sleep. This wasn’t how he usually started his day, and the unfamiliarity of it all only added to his irritation.

Just as he was about to pull himself out of bed, there was a soft knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You peeked your head in and smiled as bright as ever. Who was this happy at… 8 am?

“Good morning! I hope you slept well,” You said, stepping into the room with a steaming mug of coffee in hand.

He mumbled a response “Morning.”

you handed him the mug, your fingers brushing against his as you did. “I made you some coffee. I thought you might need it. the trip was probably long, you forgot your suitcases outside, but don't worry I rolled them in for you last night” you reassured.

“Thanks,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. He took a sip. It was good coffee, surprisingly so. He gave you a nod of approval, which you seemed to appreciate before leaving the room and allowing him to get civil.

After a moment he joined you in the kitchen still looking grumpy “So,” you began “ You don’t exactly strike me as the countryside type so what are you doing here?.”

He raised an eyebrow at your directness.

“Julie didn't tell you?” he replied simply, taking another sip of coffee.

“She only said you already knew your way around town so I didn't need to play guide with you but you don't seem to be from here and I don't think I've seen you before,” you shrugged.

He let out a short, humourless laugh. “I used to come here every summer as a kid”

You tilted her head, studying him.  “Well, I hope you enjoy it as much as you did before.”

He frowned at that. “Enjoy it? What’s there to enjoy? I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere when I could be… I don't know. having fun?.”

“Maybe you can have fun here?” your voice was a little teasing as if in your head you had come up with a sudden plan.

“How?” 

…

“This is Carrot,” You said, patting the horse’s neck affectionately. “He's perfect for beginners”

Eddie arched an eyebrow, “I’m not a beginner,” he said gruffly, though the truth was, he had never been this close to a horse before, let alone ridden one. But he wasn’t about to let that show.

“Alright then, Mr. Experienced. Ready to get on?”

He took the reins with a nod, his grip a little tighter than necessary. He’d seen people ride horses in movies and on TV—how hard could it be? With a deep breath, he approached Carrot. 

“First, put your left foot in the stirrup,” you instructed, watching him closely. “Then swing your right leg over.”

“I know," he cut you off, determined to appear unbothered. For a moment, he hesitated, but he quickly shook it off and pushed himself up. His right leg swung over the saddle, and before he knew it, he was sitting on the horse. He landed with more force than he intended, and Carrot shifted beneath him, causing him to tense up.

“See? Easy,” But he forced himself to stay calm, straightening his posture and gripping the reins as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

“right… So you can race me then?” The corner of your lips lifted in a malicious smirk.

“Race you?” he tensed up again, shifting in the saddle as he tried to find a comfortable position. 

“mhm,”  you said, smoothly mounting your horse.

The horses began to move. Eddie's eyes widened slightly “Wait wait wait, can we take it slow… it's been a while, I just gotta warm up a little” he lied through his teeth.

“I thought you were experienced” You turned your head over your shoulder looking back at him as your horse galloped forward. “Just relax and let him guide you. There’s no rush.”

Relax? Easier said than done. But he wasn’t about to let you see him falter. So he squared his shoulders and  took a deep breath

After a few minutes of you both going slowly around the field, Eddie had finally gotten the hang of it. Or so he thought.

“How about we pick up the pace now? A little friendly race, maybe?” He said, his voice still trembling, clearly not being as confident as he wished to be.

“Alright, you’re on,” you replied. 

You flashed him another grin, then gently nudged your mare forward. Belle (your horse), sensing the challenge, picked up her pace too, and before you knew it, You and Eddie were both moving faster across the field. 

“Come on, Carrot!” he urged with a small proud smile, impressed at his skills, trying to keep up with you, who had already raced slightly ahead of him. 

For a moment, Eddie forgot all about his earlier discomfort. It was just him, the horse, and the open field ahead and for the first time in a while, he felt free.

But then, as he rounded a bend in the open field, Carrot suddenly swerved to avoid a rock hidden in the tall grass. The sudden movement caught him off guard, and before he could react, he felt himself slipping sideways in the saddle. 

The next thing he knew, his legs swinging over the horse’s back as he tumbled off in an awkward arc.

He hit the ground with a heavy thud, right in the middle of a large, muddy puddle. The cold, thick mud splattered everywhere, coating his clothes, face, and hair in a messy, sticky layer. For a second, he just lay there, stunned, staring up at the sky as the reality of what had just happened sank in.

“Oh my gosh Eddie, are you okay?” You jumped down your horse and rushed to his aid, slipping on your knees in the puddle to check for any injuries.

He sat up slowly, wiping mud from his face with a grimace. His once-pristine jacket was now a muddy mess, and his hair stuck out in odd angles, but as he looked up at you, concerned in your eyes, on your knees in the puddle, next to him, he couldn’t help it. A chuckle escaped him, followed by another, until he was laughing.

Your frown quickly turned upside down when you heard the laughter coming out of his mouth. Giggles quickly started bubbling in your throat as well.

“I warned you it wasn’t as easy as it looked,” you teased, grinning as you tried brushing some of the mud off his shoulder.

He let out a mock groan, half-grumpy, half-amused with the situation.

Despite the mud, the fall, and the bruised ego, he felt lighter than he had in days. There was something liberating about letting go, about laughing at himself and the situation, instead of trying to maintain the stoic facade he usually wore. 

”Let's get you cleaned up. I think you’ve had enough mud for one day.” You smiled and grabbed both his hands to help him up from the muddy water.

As you both walked back toward the cottage-like house, side by side, he realized something. For the first time since he’d arrived, he was having fun. And it was all thanks to you.

…

Ever since that day, you and Eddie have been enjoying each other's company.

Today the sun was glowing despite the dark clouds looming in the sky but knowing rain was to come you both decided to stay in the cottage instead of going out to the horse barn. and that's how you ended up standing on your tiptoes, trying to reach a bag of flour on the top shelf. 

Eddie watched you from the doorway with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“Why don’t you just use a stool like a normal person?” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a determined look, your lips curving into a playful smile.

“I’ve got it, don’t worry. I do this all the time.”

Eddie sighed, watching you struggle with the shelf that was clearly too high for you. You were nothing if not stubborn. Just as he was about to walk over and get the flour himself, you made a final, determined stretch—and knocked the bag off the shelf. It tumbled through the air, heading straight for your face.

“Oh, for crying out loud…” Eddie muttered, stepping forward with reflexes quicker than he cared to acknowledge. He caught the bag just before it hit you but not without consequence. 

The bag burst open on impact, sending a thick cloud of flour exploding into the air.

You blinked, momentarily stunned as the white powder rained down on the both of you. When the cloud settled, you were covered head to toe in flour, your long hair now dusted with white. Eddie wasn't much better, his dark hair and clothes now sprinkled with flour.

“Well… at least you caught it,” you murmured as you and Eddie stood unmoving

Eddie gave you a long, unimpressed look.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, reaching up to wipe the flour off his face with a sigh. “You’re welcome.”

“Sorry, guess we're just bound to get dirty all the time” Your giggles broke free, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but there was a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t push it,” he replied, though his tone lacked the usual bite.               

“At least you look cute” Your hands brushed his cheek to remove some of the remaining flour from his face, even though only water would be able to remove the cloudy ingredient from your face. 

“I'm going to take a dip in the lake to clean up a bit before going in the shower, I don't want the flour to clog the drain, you coming?” Your boldness surprised you.

“uhh- ye- yes” You laughed under your breath at Eddie's flushed face before walking to the glass door leading to the wooden dock in the backyard of your house.

You reached the edge of the dock and kicked off your shoes. Eddie followed, his hands stuffed into his pockets but watching you intensely. But his gaze quickly left you when you started pulling away your dress leaving you in only your underwear.

“uhh,” Eddie scratched his head awkwardly, not sure where to look anymore.

“It's okay Eddie, you can look, it's just like a swimsuit” You brushed your hair over your shoulder and saw Eddie gulp. Once again a giggle escaped you but without further explanation, you jumped in the water. 

You emerged with a splash, your laughter bubbling up as you pushed your wet hair out of your face. you looked up at Eddie, who was still standing at the edge of the dock, staring down at you. 

“Come on, rockstar, that flour isn't gonna fly away!” you called back, your voice echoing across the lake. You floated on your back, arms outstretched.

For a moment, Eddie hesitated. But then, as he looked at you, carefree and glowing in the golden light, something in him shifted. Maybe it was the way you seemed to belong to this place or the way you had pulled him into your world without even trying. Or maybe it was just that he wanted to hold onto this feeling a little longer, to be a part of it.

With a resigned sigh, Eddie kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt, tossing it aside as well as his pants leaving him in only boxers. You watched, your heart skipping a beat as he moved closer to the edge. He paused for just a second, meeting your gaze.

Then, without another word, he jumped.

The water erupted around him as he plunged in, disappearing beneath the surface for a few seconds before he came back to the surface.

You swam closer, the distance between you closing. 

Eddie chuckled, his laughter rich and warm as he reached out to gently brush a strand of wet hair from your face. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

You grinned, your eyes locking onto his as she splashed him playfully. “You’re welcome,” you teased, before leaning in and pressing a quick, playful kiss to his cheek.

“y/n…” Eddie whispered, not even sure what he was going to say.

But before he could finish, you leaned in, your gaze dropping to his lips. For a split second, the world stood still. Then, in one fluid motion, you both closed the distance between you, his lips brushing softly against yours.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative as if you were afraid he might pull away. But when Eddie responded, his lips moving against yours with equal softness, you deepened the kiss, and his hand came up to cup your cheek.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as your legs wrapped around his waist in the water, you melted into him, your arms wrapped around his neck for added support. The world around you seemed to disappear.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Eddie's heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it.

Eddie opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto yours. “I didn’t expect that,” he admitted, his voice low and rough.

you smiled, your fingers still tangled in his hair. “I’m glad I did it,” you whispered back, your heart swelling.

“Me too,” he said softly, pressing another light kiss to your forehead before pulling you further into his arms, holding you close.

“I think we should get out before we get all wrinkly” You laughed and he splashed more water onto your face before you started to swim away.

…

“Hey Julie, please tell the band I won't be back for a while…” He whispered into the phone as you slept beside him your hair all sprawled on the silk pillow where your head layed as he kissed you endlessly a couple of hours before.

“How long are you thinking?” she asked.

“Actually… I don't think I will come back at all”

[hxney-lemcn]

The Riddle of Love — Gotham! Edward Nygma x gn! reader

summery: Edward's interest shifts to someone who indulges in his love of riddles.

tw: bullying (?), kristen kringle is a warning all her own in this fic, implied rejection (not really tho, Ed's just awkward).

a/n: I hope so much that I wrote all these characters correctly. I have riddler fever rn and really wanted to write for him, but I've always been scared that I'd write him too ooc. I think I did good tho.

wc: 3.1k

Master List

“What is it that no one wants to have, but no one wants to lose either?” I asked. I already knew it was a lost cause. Edward Nygma was the smartest man I had ever met. Dorky? Yes. Nerdy? Absolutely. Smart? Incredibly. So trying to impress him at his own game wasn’t exactly the smartest move. Yet, the first time I gave him a riddle to solve (which he solved ridiculously fast), I don’t think I’d ever seen him so happy. So I continued to scour the internet in my free time to try and find obscure riddles. 

Although this riddle wasn’t that obscure. I was running out of riddles to find, and I sure as hell couldn’t make my own. 

“A lawsuit,” Eddie replied without missing a beat, still focusing on testing blood samples. 

I couldn’t stop the pout that formed on my face, “It’s not fair how smart you are.”

I didn’t see Ed’s lips twitch up, how the praise I didn’t think twice about saying impacted him more than he’d like to admit. It was quiet for a few minutes, and I looked back down to the papers I had brought with me. Sometimes, I found myself working in the forensic lab when I could. One of the perks of being a criminal data analyst. I could make my notes on paper, and then just copy them into the computer later. 

Since I was a data analyst, I was in the record archives often. I was acquainted with Kristen Kringle, which obviously led me to Edward Nygma. She would complain about him if I came in after he had left. At that point I didn’t know him, but I also found her complaints unfounded. I’d let her vent, but I’d also speak up for him, which made her glance away in what I assume was guilt. Then there were the unfortunate times that I’d walk in on his awkward flirting. I’d just tensely put away or take the files I needed for my research and leave them to it. 

But after enough times, I’d caught him in the middle of one of his riddles. An easy one, probably to dumb it down for Kringle so she’d be enticed to answer it in the first place. Yet he had caught the attention of the wrong person. Although that didn’t seem to put a damper on his mood. He only sent me a tight lipped smile with a little ‘ding ding ding!’. That’s how I was caught hook line and sinker. His mannerisms were oddly endearing to me, and that’s how our odd little friendship formed. 

I was brought out of my reverie as Eddie shuffled over to his microscope, “I am a nine lettered word and rhyme with perfection; I am another name for love. What am I?”

I blinked, not ready for a riddle, even though I always should be in the presence of him. I looked up from my work, and I noticed how Eddie was sweating, his cheeks flushing a bright red. I tapped the metal table anxiously, the word love had thrown me off my game and my brain felt empty of anything else. I mumbled words under my breath that rhyme with perfection. 

“Deception, reception, perception,” I mumbled, yet none of them fit the rest of the rhyme. The longer I took, the more anxious Eddie seemed to get. “Affection. Oh! The answer is affection!”

Ed cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses, “Y-yes, that is correct. G-good job.” My proud smile fell into a more awkward one, thinking over the implications. That riddle sounded like one he’d save for Kringle. Was he running out of riddles as well? The thought alone was preposterous. It was tense for a bit. And when I realized I had nothing left to do but input the current data I had on some wanna be gang leader. The sad part is I knew that the cops aren’t going to be the first ones who get them. 

Even though I needed to leave, it felt wrong for some reason. To leave the situation after Edward had seemed to admit something in his unique way of sharing. I didn’t want to assume his feelings, yet I knew he also wasn’t one to just state them willingly. Biting my lip anxiously, I decided to just do it. 

Walking over towards Ed’s hunched form, I leaned down to place a light kiss to his cheek, “I’ll see ya later Eddie.” Then I booked it out of the room, leaving behind a very flustered dork. 

It wasn’t much later in the day when Doctor Lee Thompson entered my office. It wasn’t much of an office. The dark walls made the space feel enclosed, and it barely fit my desk and the few cabinets it held. Yet I didn’t mind it since it was a space for myself. Lee, on the other hand, was another acquaintance whose office was nowhere near mine. She’d only come to my office for a few reasons, if it was work related (which was rare since our departments weren’t similar), or if it was personal. Sometimes she fessed that it seemed I needed some company, that it would do me no good to spend all this time alone in my office. Other times…it was on a more personal note, about Eddie and I’s relationship. 

She plopped a candy bar on my desk, a placating move that was all too familiar.

“You must’ve done a real number on Ed,” She smirked, sitting on my desk. Due to the tiny size of the room, and the nature of my job, I didn’t have a seat for guests. 

“What do you mean?” I asked. Deep down, I knew exactly what she meant. I knew Edward was an awkward man, and his experience with flirting was an ultimate zero. Yet it was hard to imagine that he was still affected by a small gesture of affection… Okay maybe the gesture wasn’t that small, for either of us, but still! 

Lee’s smirk widened, “I think you know exactly what. Poor little Ed kept stumbling over his words when I brought you up. Something must’ve happened.”

I unwrapped the candy bar as she spoke, wanting to avoid any thought of the earlier moment. Looking back it was so awkward and a terrible attempt at…what? Flirting? Was that my intention? I didn’t even know my own intentions! 

I took a bite from the candy bar, savoring the sweet flavor before having to explain the painfully awkward memory. When I managed to explain the event, Lee couldn’t stop herself from chuckling, causing me to finish my candy bar with a bitter look. 

“That sounds like something you’d both do,” She smiled.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” I huffed, trying to fight off the flush of embarrassment I felt. 

“Nothing,” She sighed wistfully. “But you two really take your time, huh?” 

“Shut up,” I scowled. 

“Okay, okay,” She threw her hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll stop teasing…for now. But seriously, I think you two would be cute together.”

I let out a childish groan, “I get it. Is there anything else you need?” 

“No,” She smiled as she stood up. “Just wanted to see what had Ed all wound up.”

I rolled my eyes, but my heart skipped a beat at the implication. As Lee saw herself out, my mind kept racing. What was Ed doing right now? What was he thinking about? Did he really care enough about my opinion, about my affection, that he was still affected by it? I stared at my computer screen, the cursor blinking mindlessly. Glancing at the time, I scowled as I realized I still had 30 minutes left to my shift. The idea of going home, having a relaxing dinner and then maybe treating myself to a warm bath. 

…

That was only the beginning. It seems that Eddie’s admiration had shifted from Kristin Kringle to me. It was flattering, to say the least. At least to me. Once I gained Ed’s attention, I seemed to have gained his colleagues attention as well. Typically, I didn’t work with the officers, I’d research criminals, then that data would be added to the files. So when I walked past James Gordon and Harvey Bullock, I never thought twice. But when Ed had waved at me, that cute tight lipped smile on his face as I waved back, a smile of my own adorning my face, it drew the attention of the two detectives. 

"Careful Ed,” Harvey mocked. “Don’t wanna scare them off.” Jim only glanced up briefly, not interested in the situation in the least. I watched as Ed’s smile twitched for a second, Harvey’s words seeming to get to him. I felt my smile slip, not liking how they treat him in the slightest.

“He…didn’t do anything wrong,” I shrugged, before waving goodbye, making my way to the record archives. Not only them, but even Kringle was looking at me more than just as a person to vent to. 

“I feel sorry for you,” She stated, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses. Her hazel eyes held their usual air of judgment as she placed some files back in their spots. 

“Why?” I asked, flipping through to find the person I needed. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, raising one of her perfectly maintained eyebrows. “Edward’s got his eyes on another victim.” I frowned, anger bubbling within me at the way she always found new ways to insult him. 

“I wouldn’t describe it like that,” I managed to grit out. “I find the sentiment sweet.”

“Wait,” Kringle paused, turning to look at me with disbelief. “Do you…like him?”

I sighed, finding it hard to focus on the task at hand with this irritating conversation, “Would there be something wrong with that?”

“Isn’t it kind of weird how fast he switched?” She asked, a hint of jealousy in her tone. “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he loses interest in you.”

I slammed the cabinet shut in a bout of rage, leaving the room before I do something I may regret…or lose my job over. As I exited, my scowl worsened when I realized I didn’t even get what I needed. 

“Hello!” Edward’s excited voice greeted me as I entered the break room. When my gaze landed on him, I felt my expression soften, my shoulder’s relaxing. His brown eyes were so expressive, that silly smile on his face never failed to melt my heart. 

“Hey,” I muttered back. Looking over the options in the vending machine. Just get something to eat, and hopefully I’ll feel better. 

“Is…something the matter?” He asked, fidgeting with his glasses. I let out a long sigh as I sat across from him at one of the few tables. 

Taking a bite of my snack, I took some time to gather my thoughts and feelings, “Sometimes I just hate people.”

His eyebrows raised, nervously fidgeting with his tie, “Th-that’s…understandable.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, finally cooling down. “Someone was just saying some really mean things and it got to me.”

Edwards’ demeanor changed in an instant, a frown replacing his smile, and his eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concern and anger, “Who?”

I blinked, “What?”

“Who insulted you?” He asked, fists clenched. This wasn’t what I was expecting. He would get annoyed, yeah, but he’d always just stew in it until he calmed down. And he was barely angry when I was around, which was something I was proud of. So seeing him react so harshly was unusual. It made me feel a bit appreciated, that he cared enough to get this angry over it, yet it was also unsettling.

“They…they were insulting you,” I clarified, rubbing my arm awkwardly. “And trust me, I was ready to do some things that would’ve gotten me fired.”

Ed blinked, calming down drastically at the revelation, “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I swear if she says one more damned thing about you I’m gonna…” I strangled the air, the only way I could express how frustrated her insults made me.

Edward fake coughed, his cheeks tinged a light pink, “I assume you mean Miss Kringle.”

I paused, hoping it didn’t hurt that his past interest was still as rude as ever. “I didn’t even manage to get the files I needed,” I grumbled, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.

“...I can get them for you,” I felt my heart crack. Was he still interested in her? Was that why he was so ready to go into the den of the woman who so readily insults him? 

“Oh, no you don’t have to do that,” I shook my head. “I’ll just have Lee do it.���

Ed blinked, seeming to think over something before standing up, “I’ll be right back.” Before he was fully out the door he paused, “Whose case files did you need?”

I couldn’t help the tiny grin at how eager he was as I gave him the names of the people I needed files on. Yet that smile fell. Was he really so excited to get a chance to see Kringle that he almost left without knowing what files he needed? I finished my snack, getting a drink from the vending machine while I was at it. My mind continued to make up terrible scenarios that could be happening at that moment. How she could manage to crush Ed’s precious heart even more than she’s already managed to.

Ed was back quicker than I realized. It took him less than ten minutes! He set the files I needed on the table, that tight lipped grin on his face as he waited for my input.

“Oh! Thank you!” I thanked, flipping through the files to make sure they were all there. “She didn’t give you any trouble, did she?”

“No,” He replied simply. As I met his gaze, that’s when I finally realized that he was truly over Kringle. I should’ve felt disturbed at how intense his gaze was, at how strong his emotions seemed to be when he wasn’t even trying. Yet I only felt flattered, important, and wanted. Emotions I wasn’t completely used to, and caused my heart to stutter at how strong my own emotions were becoming. 

Standing up, I leaned in and kissed his cheek again, this time a bit more confident then the last time I did. I waved goodbye as I walked out with the files he gave me. I felt pride swell within me as I watched Eddie become a flustered mess as I left. It was a good mood lifter as I watched him fumble with his usual nervous ticks, before he was finally out of my sight. 

…

Edward’s courting tactics only seemed to grow after that. I wasn’t sure what changed him to do so. I could only speculate that Lee had something to do with it. She kept stopping by my office, asking how Ed and I were doing like she hadn’t just seen us the day before. I can’t lie, I was reveling in the attention that Ed was giving me, and I could tell he’d revel in my attention as well. A mutual pining on both sides. 

Normally, I’d be okay with that. Too scared to try and push things forward. Edward Nygma was different. He was just so…amazing. I’ve never felt so strongly towards someone. He was sweet, attentive, smart, and overall lovely. I couldn’t just settle for pining, I wanted to experience what it would be like as his lover. 

Which led me to this horrendous mess up of a confession.

I dressed up a bit nicer than usual, hoping to impress the cute dork. I felt confident in myself, an emotion I don’t feel regularly. I greeted Lee, who seemed like she guessed the occasion and sent me a wink when I walked past. 

“Hey Eddie,” I greeted, setting a cup of coffee down on the counter.

“Oh! Hello,” He greeted me, smiling. “You seem chipper this morning.”

Nudging the coffee towards him I smiled back, “It’s a good day today. I got you a coffee.”

“You didn’t need to,” Ed replied sheepishly, not used to people giving him things. 

I only shrugged, “I wanted to.” I tapped the counter I was leaning on as nerves started to slowly creep through me. So, before my anxiety could get the best of me, I blurted out, “What is mine but only you can have?”

With furrowed eyebrows, Ed actually paused to answer a riddle for the first time during this little game we had. His eyes flitted around the room, like he was trying to avoid the answer. I know he was smart enough to figure it out, so the fact he was taking so long to answer caused my heart rate to spike from anxiety. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I was reading the room wrong. I blame Lee for feeding me a wrong understanding. 

“I…uh…” Ed stuttered over his words, sweat dripping down the side of his face. Shit, shit, shit! I shouldn’t have said that. He does know the answer, I found it online easily, he obviously knows. He doesn’t feel the same and now he’s trying to find a way to politely reject me. 

“Nevermind!” I exclaimed, trying to quell my nerves by getting the fuck out of here. “Stupid riddle! Never needs an answer. I should get to work.”

“W-wait!” Eddie called out, making me stop in my tracks. So close yet so far. “I can be a fruit, I can be on a calendar, I can be important, and I can be forgotten. What am I?”

Turning back around, I watched as Eddie picked at his nails. We both seemed like complete messes at the moment. It was hard for me to think of anything due to my previous failure of admitting my feelings. I bit my lip awkwardly, trying to stop myself from making any more of a fool of myself.

“I…I’m not sure Eddie,” I chuckled solemnly.

Clearing his throat, he adjusted his glasses before admitting, “A date. W-would you accompany me on one?” I stared at him with wide eyes, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“Y-yeah! Of course I will!” That tinge of embarrassment was quickly overpowered by exhilaration. The smile that stretched across my face almost hurt with how big it was. Eddie’s smile was also wide as he still couldn’t meet my eyes.

“Is…is tonight okay? Dinner? 7 o’clock?”

“That sounds perfect.” 

And to make the moment better, I kissed his cheek before parting, excited for what the night held for us.

[redroomreflections]

Gentle Hands Chapter Ten

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha suspects Reader is in an abusive relationship and tries to convince her to leave

10/10

W/c: 6.2k

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Warning: Domestic violence

Author’s note: We are experiencing a time jump here. This is the end. Like many of the stories I’ve written, when I began this came from a deep place of loneliness and discomfort. The only way to write my feelings was to put them into a piece of work that included my favorite character. It’s easy to find that form of escapism in something you enjoy and so I did just that. I do hope y’all enjoyed this ride even if it was painful. I’m open to writing drabbles for this story in the future. 

"It’s like climbing a mountain," a woman’s voice quivered with emotion as she neared the end of her share. "You only see the tip of the iceberg, but beneath the surface, there’s so much more we’re battling through." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I think this is my last day. I don't have the energy to go through it all again. It feels like I've been doing this for so long." She reaches below her open legs to take a sip of her bottled water.

"I can't say how sorry I am that you feel like this," the therapist said, setting down her notepad as she looked over to the speaker. "I know your strength, and it seems like you've been carrying this burden for a very long time. All of you have." She eyed the group.

Directly across from her, you sat quietly in your chair, your hands resting in your lap. You briefly picked at your nails, a nervous habit you wished you could break. The cozy room, with its soft lighting and comforting decor, offered a stark contrast to the heavy emotions shared within its walls.

As the woman’s words hung in the air, you felt a pang of empathy. You understood the weight of unspoken struggles, the unseen battles fought beneath the surface. The therapist’s response was gentle, and filled with compassion and understanding.

Your gaze wandered around the room, taking in the faces of the other women. Each one held a story, a journey marked by pain and resilience. The group’s collective strength was palpable, a testament to their shared experiences and mutual support.

When the therapist turned to address the group, your attention snapped back. You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

"Let's close out our time together with a meditation. I know you're all feeling very raw today, and I want you to focus on taking care of yourselves. I encourage each of you to lean into the things that bring you comfort and joy."

You closed your eyes thinking of the things that brought joy to your life. Your mind immediately flows to your baby girl. With her toothy smile and big brown eyes. You remember her giggle and the way she clings to you tightly as if never wanting to let go. She is your heart, your world. Then your mind flows to your friends who have truly become like family. Steve and his loyalty. Sam and his ability to always make you laugh. And Natasha, who holds a piece of your heart.

You hear the therapist clear her throat before she begins to speak.

"We can only be truly healed if we choose to embrace the process."

"That's easy for her to say," You thought. Embracing the process of healing is difficult. Healing is not linear. 

"There is no rush, no timetable. We will support each other on this journey, and celebrate the healing of our hearts and minds."

As the session came to a close, you gathered your things and prepared to leave. The room began to empty, and you made your way toward the exit. A woman from the group, her face bright with a cheerful demeanor, caught up with you.

“Hey, I’m so glad I caught you!” she said, her excitement palpable. “I’ve missed a few sessions, so I haven’t had a chance to catch up. How are things going with Natasha? You’ve mentioned her before, and I was curious if there have been any updates. I’ve been thinking about you and hoping things have been improving.”

"Improving?" You questioned with a smirk. Delaney Chance had always been one of the nosier groupgoers. You had quickly bonded with her over motherhood and pretty much everything else. She's in her late 30'sand while her demeanor makes her seem much younger you enjoy talking with her. "I'm not sure what there is to improve on."

"So you guys haven't gotten together yet?" She asked as she opened up a brand new pack of cigarettes. "This is the slowest burn I've ever heard of."

"I mean we're as together as together can be," You shrugged.

"I guess that's true," She took a pull from her cigarette. "I mean you both practically live together and you're raising two kids."

"Del," You warned, not wanting to talk about Natasha and yourself right now.

"Right," She took a few more pulls before continuing. "It's been a minute since you've checked in, I was just curious."

"Curiosity is fine," You nod. "It's just that I don't think I'm ready for a relationship. I don't want to keep her waiting forever."

"Has she truly been waiting though?" Delaney questioned. "You can't say the two of you haven't gotten close all this time."

You didn't say anything. You couldn't say anything. In your heart of hearts, you knew Del was right. You'd both been dancing around each other for quite some time now. You didn't want to hold Natasha back. But the truth was, you didn't trust yourself. You were too scared to love her. Too afraid of losing her.

You knew if you didn't make a move soon, someone else would.

"We have almost..." You bite your lip debating on what exactly to share with Delaney. You and Natasha have shared so many intimate moments. Cuddling on the couch at night after the kids have gone to sleep. Her bringing you tea after you'd been up all night studying. Things were as domestic as domestic could get. The only thing the two of you had never done was kiss. Not since that night, she'd taken you in. "But the timing was always off. Like something would always interrupt."

"Like the universe saying not yet," Delaney stated.

"Yeah." You walk down the street further, noting how much closer you are getting to the subway.

"Well, maybe you just have to stop waiting." She suggests. "Stop waiting for the perfect moment. Just kiss her."

"Kiss her?" You asked. "You think things work like that."

"Why not?" Delaney questioned.

"Because things aren't that simple," You argued.

"But they could be," Delaney countered.

"No, it can't." You were quick to argue. "I am me and she is...." You fumble to find the words. "Look I've done a lot of healing but I don't know if I can give her what she needs."

"That sounds like an excuse," Delaney stated. "Are you trying to protect her or yourself?"

"Her, I'm always protecting her."

"Then why are you still fighting it?"

You let out a deep sigh, the weight of the conversation pulling at your thoughts. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with her,” you began, choosing your words carefully. “I love our time together. Natasha… she’s the first person I’ve felt safe with in a long time. We have these deep conversations, you know? We talk about everything—our pasts, our fears, our dreams. She understands me in a way no one else does.”

Delaney nodded, her expression softening. “But…?”

“But we haven’t really defined what we are to each other,” you admitted, the vulnerability in your voice surprising even you. “We’ve gotten so close, and sometimes it feels like we’re more than friends, but we’ve never actually said it out loud. It’s like we’re both scared to cross that line, afraid of what it might mean.”

Delaney tilted her head, considering your words. “So, you’re stuck in this gray area, huh? That’s gotta be tough.”

“Yeah, it is,” you confessed. “Part of me likes the way things are now—no labels, no expectations. It’s comforting, in a way. We’re just… us. But at the same time, I know that’s not fair to her. Natasha deserves more than just the pieces of me I’m willing to give.”

“You’re right,” Delaney said gently. “But maybe it’s not about giving her more. Maybe it’s about letting yourself accept more. Letting yourself believe that you deserve happiness, too.”

You stopped walking for a moment, letting her words sink in. The truth was, you did enjoy what you had with Natasha. The late-night talks, the way she’d gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, the comforting warmth of her presence—it all felt right. But the fear of losing that, of losing her if things didn’t work out, kept you from taking that final step.

“Del, I just don’t want to mess this up,” you said, your voice tinged with uncertainty. “I’m terrified that if we try to make it something more and it doesn’t work out, I’ll lose her. I’ll lose this connection we have, and I don’t know if I can handle that.”

Delaney gave you a knowing smile, a mix of empathy and encouragement in her eyes. “Sometimes, you’ve gotta take the risk. If you both care about each other as much as it seems, then maybe it’s worth the chance. It sounds like you’ve already got a pretty solid foundation—why not build on that?”

You glanced down at the sidewalk, the city sounds buzzing around you as you considered her words. The thought of defining what you had with Natasha was both thrilling and terrifying. But maybe Delaney was right. Maybe it was time to stop waiting for the perfect moment and just… go for it.

"Thanks," You said as the two of you continued your walk. "I guess I should figure out a way to do that."

"I'm sure it will happen organically," She offered. "Okay, I have to go and pick up the kids from my mom. See you next week. Kiss those babies for me and that beautiful red-headed lady."

"Will do," You gave her a quick hug before watching her walk away. As you walked towards the subway, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. Maybe it was time to give your heart what it wanted most.

***********

You’ve heard countless stories, some eerily similar to your own, others vastly different, but all filled with the same undercurrent of pain and resilience. For two years, the group has been your anchor, a place where you could finally breathe, where your voice mattered. You remember the first time you walked into the room, your heart pounding, unsure if you belonged. It had been Sam who pushed you to take that step, insisting you needed a space where people truly understood you.

Initially, you’d been skeptical. The idea of sharing your deepest wounds with strangers felt overwhelming, even terrifying. But over time, this group became more than just a suggestion from a friend—it became your sanctuary. The Peach Tree Group for Women Experiencing Domestic Violence was the one place where you could drop the facade, where you didn’t have to be strong for anyone but yourself.

Week after week, you’ve listened as women bared their souls. You’ve watched as they slowly found their footing, just as you’ve been finding yours. Healing is a process, a journey you’ve all been on together, and though the road has been long, you’ve made progress—more than you ever thought possible.

Today’s session was no different. The topic was healing, a concept that had once seemed so distant, so out of reach. But now, as you sat there listening to the others share their stories, you realized just how far you’ve come. Two years ago, you couldn’t imagine feeling as grounded as you do now. Sure, the scars are still there, but they don’t define you anymore.

You can't wait to get home to your babies. You couldn't wait to finally live the life you'd been fighting so hard to have. Days like this felt surreal. It felt like a lifetime ago you'd been running. You're glad you dared to run.

**********

After the therapy session, you made your way home, the day’s conversations still playing in your mind. The moment you stepped into your apartment in the Avenger’s Tower, the warmth and familiarity of the space enveloped you, easing the lingering tension. You paused just inside the doorway, drawn to the sight unfolding before you.

Natasha was sitting cross-legged on the floor, with Brynn nestled comfortably in her lap. The baby’s tiny hands were reaching out, trying to grasp one of Natasha’s fingers while babbling softly, her wide eyes fixed on her sister with pure adoration. In front of them, Kaia was busy coloring a large piece of paper spread out on the coffee table. Her curly coils bounced with each enthusiastic stroke of the crayon, and her face was scrunched up in concentration as she carefully chose her colors.

You stayed where you were, not wanting to interrupt the moment. Kaia, her little tongue poking out in focus, was working on what appeared to be a card. You could see the bright colors she was using, and the careful way she was trying to stay within the lines—a clear sign that this was something important to her. Natasha, ever patient and loving, was softly encouraging her, offering gentle suggestions without taking over.

Brynn, meanwhile, had managed to grab hold of Natasha’s finger and was now bringing it to her mouth, gnawing on it with her emerging teeth. Natasha laughed, a sound so rare and precious that it made your heart skip a beat. The sight of them together, so at ease and content, filled you with a sense of peace you hadn’t realized you needed.

Kaia suddenly looked up, noticing you standing there. Her face lit up with a bright, toothy smile, and she immediately called out, “Mommy! Look!” She held up the card proudly, the front decorated with colorful scribbles and a least a half dozen scribbles.

Natasha looked up too, her eyes meeting yours, and the warmth in her gaze was undeniable. “We’ve been busy,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips as she shifted Brynn slightly to one side so the baby could see you too.

You stepped further into the room, your heart swelling with love for this little family you’d found yourself a part of. “It’s beautiful, Kaia,” you said, kneeling beside her to get a closer look at the card. “Did you make this all by yourself?”

"Mama Tasha helped me," Kaia nodded eagerly. “It’s for you, Mommy! I made it special.”

Her calling Natasha "Mama" had become a recent development. At two and a half years old, Kaia had started to pick up on the deep connection between the two of you and Natasha. Hearing her say it now, with such ease and certainty, sent a wave of emotion through you.

Natasha’s smile widened at Kaia’s words, a hint of pride in her eyes as she looked down at the little girl. “She did most of it herself,” Natasha added, her voice filled with a tender affection that made your heart swell even more. “I just helped with the finishing touches.”

You reached out and gently brushed a stray curl away from Kaia’s forehead, marveling at how much she had grown. “You both did an amazing job,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Kaia beamed at the praise, her bright, toothy smile lighting up her entire face. She reached out to you, her little hands sticky with crayon wax, and you pulled her into a hug, holding her close.

Brynn, not wanting to be left out, let out a babble that sounded like a protest until you reached over and stroked her chubby cheek. She immediately grabbed onto your finger, just as she had with Natasha, her grip surprisingly strong for such a tiny baby. Her big brown eyes sparkled as she stared up at you, her expression one of pure innocence and trust.

You shifted closer, placing a gentle kiss on Brynn’s forehead before looking back at Natasha.

"Thank you for keeping them," You offered to her as you settled next to her on the floor. Brynn practically threw herself into your arms before you could sit properly. The ten-month-old rested her head on your chest to hear your heartbeat. It was something she'd done from the very first day she'd been born.

"You don't have to thank me," Natasha reminded you. "I like the little rascals."

"Even when they're being little rascals?" You asked.

"Especially then," She smirked. "They're just like their Mama."

"Hey," You warned.

"I said especially," She teased, her eyes sparkling.

"Do you have anything planned for the day?" You attempted to hold a conversation between Brynn babbling and Kaia adding her commentary.

"The only thing I had planned was making sure the girls were okay."

"That's sweet," You smiled at her. "But seriously, nothing?"

"Why? Have a hot date or something?" Natasha tilted her head.

"Pftt," You scoffed. "I haven't been on a date since... well, I've never been on a date."

"What?" Natasha's eyes widened. "You've never been on a date?"

"Well," You began, knowing you'd have to explain. "K-E-I-T-H and I were in high school and we didn't have the opportunity to since my parents didn't approve. Once we moved we would have little things here and there but it was never a date. I thought I told you this before?" You look at her quizzically.

"I don't recall," Natasha replied. "Maybe I blocked it out."

"Yeah," You laughed. "It's not something I like to talk about."

"Mama, look at these circles." Kaia interrupted.

"They are pretty good," Natasha complimented.

"What color did you use?" You asked her.

"All of them," She answered. "But I put blue because it's your favorite." Suddenly, as if she had just realized, Kaia gasped and looked around. "Oh no, where's Blankie."

"Blankie is in the wash remember?" Natasha said. "You spilled chocolate milk on it the other day."

"Oh," Kaia nodded. It was all coming back to her now.

"It's okay, baby," You assured her. "We'll have it dried in no time. How about you draw a picture for Blankie while we're waiting?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kaia cheered. It was the blanket she received as a Christmas gift from Natasha last year. She wouldn't let that thing out of her sight.

"How was the group?" Natasha questioned.

"Good, very good." You replied.

"Anything new happening?"

"Not really," You shrugged. "Just the same stuff. We talked a little bit about the importance of healing and congratulating ourselves for the progress we've made."

"That's good," Natasha smiled, the softness in her eyes filling you with warmth. "You deserve it."

"Thanks," You returned her smile.

"Okay, I'm hungry," Kaia said as she got up. "My stomach is so empty."

"How can it be that empty when you've already had two snacks?" Natasha raised a brow at the two-year-old.

"Because it is," Kaia answered simply.

"Come on, Mama, let's go make a snack." Kaia abandoned her crayons to tug at your arm.

"Careful," You warned her as you passed Brynn back to Natasha. "Don't pull."

"Sorry, " Kaia let go.

"I'll meet you guys in the kitchen," Natasha called after you.

"How about peanut butter and jelly?" You suggested as you followed Kaia into the kitchen. It was then you'd noticed the Elsa of Frozen's costume dress she was wearing. It was the third time she'd worn it this week. Neither of you would dare take it off of her. It's one of those perks of living with a two-year-old. She was fiercely independent and opinionated.

As Kaia assumed her position on the step stool, you worked around her to grab the ingredients.

"Do you think toasted or non-toasted?"

"Toasted," Kaia said matter of fact.

"Okay, toasted it is."

"Do we have grapes?" She asked.

"Yes, I bought a pack yesterday."

"Good," She nodded.

You smiled as Kaia perched herself on the step stool, her tiny hands resting on the countertop as she eagerly watched you gather the ingredients for the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Her Elsa dress fluttered slightly as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Alright, toasted it is," you said, sliding two slices of bread into the toaster. The kitchen filled with the quiet hum of the appliance as it began to brown the bread, and you glanced over at Kaia, who was patiently waiting for her turn to help.

She was growing up so fast, you thought, your heart swelling with pride. At two and a half, Kaia was already so independent, so sure of herself. You couldn’t help but admire the way she approached everything with such determination and focus. It was as if she had already decided that the world was hers to explore, and she was ready to take it on, one small step at a time.

As the toaster popped, you carefully pulled out the warm slices of bread and set them on a plate in front of Kaia. "Okay, little chef," you said, handing her a small butter knife. "Do you want to spread the peanut butter or the jelly?"

"Peanut butter," she decided, her voice full of confidence. She took the jar you’d set out and began to scoop a generous amount onto her knife, her tongue poking out in concentration as she spread it across the toast.

You watched her, marveling at the care she took with each movement. Kaia might be small, but she was already so capable, so eager to help. It was in these little moments that you saw glimpses of the person she was becoming—kind, thoughtful, and endlessly curious.

"You're doing a great job," You praised her, and she looked up at you with a wide smile, her eyes sparkling with pride.

"I want it to be perfect," Kaia said, smoothing out a small clump of peanut butter that had stubbornly stuck to one spot. "Mommy, do you think Brynn will like it too?"

Your heart melted at her words. "I'm sure she will," you assured her. "But I think it's more important that you like it. After all, you’re the one making it."

Kaia nodded, her expression serious as she finished with the peanut butter and reached for the jelly. As she carefully spread it over the second slice of toast, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of love for this little girl who had become your whole world. She was so sweet, so caring, always thinking of others—even her baby sister, who was too young to appreciate a good peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Once the sandwich was assembled, Kaia handed it to you with a proud smile. "All done!"

"Perfect," you said, cutting the sandwich into triangles just the way she liked it. You placed the pieces on a plate and added a handful of grapes on the side.

"I need to wash my hands first," Kaia slid down from the stool to rush to the bathroom. She almost ran into Natasha in her haste.

"Slow down, speed racer," Natasha said.

"Sorry," Kaia apologized before she sidestepped the other woman.

Natasha rolled her eyes playfully before she made her way towards you.

"Is she okay?" You asked.

"She's fine," Natasha shook her head. "I think she has too much energy."

"With Kaia, there's never too much energy," You joked. You made a silly face at Brynn, who was now nestled comfortably in Natasha's arms. As you looked at her, a familiar pang of surprise hit you. Brynn's resemblance to Keith was undeniable, from the shape of her eyes to the soft curls that framed her tiny face. It was always startling, like a sudden reminder of the past you’d left behind. Not that it made you love her any less your love for her was boundless, unshakable. But there was something about seeing that resemblance, the way it drew you back to a chapter you had long since closed.

Life had turned out in ways you hadn’t expected. You hadn't seen Keith since that day in the tower when you’d said goodbye for what you hoped would be the last time. For the sake of the girls, you prayed it stayed that way. Brynn was yours, part of the little family you had built with Natasha and Kaia, and you were determined to keep her world safe and full of love.

Watching Natasha gently rock Brynn, you felt a deep sense of peace. This was your life now—one filled with love, laughter, and the kind of stability you once feared would never come.

"So, when were you going to tell me you finished with your last class? You're officially a graduate now," Natasha smiled. She buckled Brynn into the high chair all the while glancing back at you for an answer. 

"Oh," You hadn't even given it a second thought. "I guess I didn't realize it until now. But yes, I'm done."

Natasha's smile widened as she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around you in a warm embrace. "I'm so proud of you," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

The hug was comforting, something you'd come to cherish deeply. You'd discovered over time that Natasha was incredibly affectionate, especially with you. She wasn’t just a hugger; she thrived on physical touch, always finding little ways to connect. Whether it was your feet in her lap during movie nights, her fingers gently massaging away the tension of the day or the soothing presence of her hand on your back, Natasha’s touch was always there, grounding you, reminding you of the bond you shared.

You hugged her back, letting yourself sink into the warmth of the moment. "I didn't even realize it," you admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. "I’ve been so caught up with everything, I didn’t take the time to acknowledge it."

"Well, I’m acknowledging it," Natasha said, pulling back slightly to look at you, her eyes shining with pride. "You’ve worked so hard for this, and you deserve to celebrate. We’ll have to do something special."

You smiled, touched by her thoughtfulness. "Maybe we could," you said, your heart swelling with affection.

Natasha's hand lingered on your arm, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "You’ve come so far, and I’ve loved watching you grow. You should be proud of yourself."

The sincerity in her voice took your breath away, and you found yourself at a loss for words. Instead, you pulled her into another hug, savoring the feeling of her arms around you, knowing that, with her support, you were truly on the path to healing.

"A hug without me?" Kaia padded into the kitchen. She sounded genuinely concerned which made you chuckle.

"You want in?" Natasha asked her.

Kaia nodded, reaching her hands up to you. You bent down to lift her. "Group hugs are the best," Kaia announced.

"They are the best," Natasha agreed. You were impressed with the little one's vocabulary and you'd suspect her time being the only child in the Tower contributed to that.

"Mommy?" Kaia looked at you. "When are we having lunch?"

"We can have it now," You told her. "Your plate is on the table."

"Yay!" She wiggled out of your hold and rushed to the dining table. "The last one to the table is a rotten egg." That one is all Sam's doing.

"You better hurry before she devours it," Natasha chuckled.

"She will," You nodded. You grabbed a hold of Natasha's hand and dragged her over to the table. "Come on, Mama." You teased.

Kaia's smile widened at your words.

You both sat down with the little girl. Kaia had already begun munching on her sandwich, a small dollop of jelly at the corner of her mouth. You grabbed a napkin and gently wiped it away.

This life was all you ever wanted. 

**********

Hours later, you slipped out of the kids' room, the soft creak of the door barely audible in the quiet suite. The soothing lullaby coming from their room faded as you padded softly through the hallways. 

As you wandered through the dimly lit halls, you decided to check in with JARVIS, “JARVIS, have you seen Natasha?”

“Miss Romanoff is on the sky deck,” Jarvis responded in his calm, neutral tone.”She requests your presence at your earliest convenience.” 

Curiosity piqued, and you made your way to the sky deck. The elevator ride felt slower than usual, anticipation building with each passing second. When the doors finally opened, you stepped out into the crisp night air. You weren’t properly dressed for the slight chill. The sky deck was illuminated by a soft, gentle glow, and you were greeted by the flickering light of candles arranged in a cozy setup.

A small table was set up, adorned with an elegant tablecloth and a few candles casting a warm, inviting light. On the table, there was a neatly wrapped present with a small teddy bear attached to it. The teddy bear was wearing a cap and gown and was holding a tiny card that read: “Congratulations on your graduation.” Followed by a hand-drawn heart and Natasha’s signature. 

Natasha was standing nearby, her silhouette illuminated by the candlelight. She turned as she heard you approaching, her eyes softening into a tender smile.

“What’s all this?”

“I wanted to celebrate with you,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of nervousness as if she was unsure of how you would react.

You felt a rush of warmth and gratitude. “Natasha, this is beautiful,” you said, your voice filled with emotion. You walked over to the table, taking in the thoughtful details. The teddy bear, the candles, the gift—it was all so perfectly Natasha, combining her warmth and affection with her desire to make you feel special.

“I just wanted to do something nice for you,” Natasha said, her gaze dropping to the gift. “You’ve worked so hard, and I’m so proud of you. I thought this would be a nice way to celebrate.”

You reached out, taking her hand in yours. “Thank you. This means more to me than you know.”

Natasha looked up at you, her eyes shining with emotion. You stepped closer, your free hand coming to rest on her cheek, stroking her skin gently. She leaned into your touch, and you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. You felt a spark of desire, your body drawn to hers.

Natasha seemed to feel it too, and she took a small step forward, closing the space between you. You felt your heart rate quicken as she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

"Is this a date?" You questioned as you pulled back. Natasha chuckled.

"Do you want it to be?"

You pretended to think about it for a second before nodding, "Yes."

"Good, because I got us food from your favorite restaurant," Natasha smiled, guiding you to sit at the table.

"Are we going to discuss what just happened?" You gestured to the spot you'd been standing only moments ago.

"What? You're not hungry?" Natasha feigned confusion.

"Oh, I'm very hungry," You grinned.

"Then we should eat," She replied, ignoring your teasing.

"I was talking about you," You said, watching as a slight blush spread across her cheeks. "That kiss was something I've been wanting to do for a long while."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "And now that we're on a date, I think we can safely say that we're a couple."

Natasha chuckled. "I think we've been a couple long before this."

"We have," You agreed, squeezing her hand.

Natasha smiled, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked in the candlelight. Her hair was pulled back into a loose braid, and she was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans. "I'm sorry I didn't plan this out a lot better," She brushed a hand over her braid.

"Don't apologize," You told her. "We're both busy and we have two young girls. There's not a lot of time to plan these kinds of things. I also didn't tell you about the graduation thing so."

"I'll do better," Natasha promised.

"Nat, seriously, this is great," You shook your head. "I'm not saying it because I think I deserve less or anything like that. My favorite moments spent with you are when it's just us. You can't say if you'd taken me to a restaurant people wouldn't be all over you to take a picture or sign something."

"But-"

"I don't need anything fancy, okay?"

Natasha nodded. "I understand."

"Okay, enough serious talk," You said, picking up the present. You shake the box. "What is this?"

"Open it and find out," Natasha smirked.

You unwrapped the present and pulled open the box. Inside, nestled on a bed of soft fabric, was a tennis bracelet. Its design was understated yet refined— a delicate chain of polished metal, adorned with a continuous line of small, shimmering diamonds. The stones were evenly spaced, their natural sparkle catching the light with each gentle movement.

The bracelet was crafted with care, its smooth links fitting together seamlessly. It wasn’t flashy or overwhelming but exuded a quiet sophistication. It was the kind of piece that could be worn every day, adding a touch of elegance without being too showy.

It was perfect.

"Nat, it's beautiful," You said, holding the bracelet up to admire the way it shimmered. "I love it."

Natasha seemed relieved. "I'm glad. I had a feeling it would look good on you."

"You're so good to me," You sighed. "I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."

Natasha's gaze softened. "I think you'd do just fine," She said.

"You're too modest," You said, setting the bracelet back in the box. "You've been there for me through some of the hardest times of my life. You're not just a hero to me, you're my friend, my partner."

"You make me feel special," Natasha murmured, a faint smile crossing her lips. "And I'm grateful to have you in my life. I never imagined I could have this—a family, a home, someone to love."

There's a pause between the two of you.

"You love me?" You ask.

Natasha nods, her expression soft and open. "I do. I have for a while, I think. But I was afraid to admit it."

"And now?"

Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on yours. "I'm not afraid anymore. I love you, and I'm ready to take this next step with you."

Your heart swells with happiness, and you lean forward to kiss her, a soft, gentle kiss.

You pulled back, smiling softly. "I love you, too," you said, a sense of joy filling you as the words left your lips. "And I'm ready to take the next step with you, too."

Natasha's grin widened, and she stood up with the expectation that you would follow. She extended her arms to pull you close. You enjoyed the feeling of her body pressed against yours. You inhaled the familiar scent of her soap, the warmth enveloping your body. Being in Natasha's arms is your favorite place to be.

"You're beautiful," Natasha murmured.

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. You buried your face in her shoulder, savoring the moment. You were happy, truly happy, and you hoped that this feeling would never fade.

You pulled back slightly, still nestled in Natasha’s embrace, the cool night air mingling with the warmth of her body. You gazed out at the city lights below the sky deck. The stillness of the night provided a peaceful backdrop for your thoughts, and you found yourself reflecting deeply on the journey that had brought you here.

It was incredible to think about how you’d found someone who truly completed you. The path hadn’t been easy—your past with Keith had been filled with pain and uncertainty, and the process of rediscovering yourself had been long and demanding. Yet, as you stood here with Natasha, you couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and clarity.

You understood now why waiting had been so important. You needed time to heal, to find your footing again, and to reconnect with who you were after everything you’d been through. That period of self-discovery had been essential for understanding your worth and what you truly wanted from life. It was during that time that you learned to recognize your own needs and desires and to appreciate your strength and resilience.

And Natasha—she was the one who added so much to this newfound sense of self. Her presence in your life was not just a comfort but a reflection of everything you had come to understand about yourself. She embodied the partnership you had always hoped for, one that was built on trust, understanding, and unconditional love. Natasha’s love had shown you that you deserved this, that you were worthy of such a profound connection.

As you held her close, you realized that all the waiting, all the time spent finding yourself, had led you to this moment of perfect clarity. You felt a deep, abiding sense of contentment, knowing that you were no longer defined by your past but by the love and strength you had cultivated within yourself. With Natasha by your side, you were ready to embrace the future with a renewed sense of hope and purpose.

The journey had been worth it, and standing here, enveloped in Natasha’s warmth, you felt a profound sense of peace. This was where you were meant to be. 

fin

[these-posts-arent-real]

warrior cats dash sim anyone?

#no canon characters #sorray guys thats too much #im just gonna do some made up dudes

0 notes

���� yourfave-tunnel-guy-deactivat

Guys I hate tunnellers. Lmao.

🌱 dirtdigger-23 Follow

By StarClan, I hate this mindset. Tunnellers are such an underappreciated part of WindClan society. Just because we don't do as much running or typical hunting doesn't make us less valuable than you. Op and cats like him are so stupid.

🌻 l1llyst3m Follow

Crow-food-worth reading comprehension lmao. It was satire (the url clearly states "tunnel.") Also, her*

🌱 dirtdigger-23 Follow

Ok I see where that was probably satire (OP should have made that more clear though) Where are you getting "her" from though lmao. OP's url is "yourfave-tunnel-guy"

🌻 l1llyst3m Follow

I'm getting "her" because I'm OP. This is my new account. I'm trans. Hope this helps.

#i said so in the tags of the last addition #but as i said. crow-food-worth reading comprehension #prev probably didnt even read my tags lmao

2,209 notes

🌾 barncat-vibes Follow

I am goingto fucking kill Jadestar. Lmao.

🌾 barncat-vibes Follow

WRONG BLOG

🐱 berrrrry-o Follow

Clanblr user barncat-vibes is from rc confirmed??

🏞 trouttail-prefers-bass Follow

Haha I already knew that, I'm mutuals with them on their main, plus we're IRL friends. Forgot that wasn't common knowledge.

🐱 berrrrry-o Follow

tbh I always assumed they were wc since thats the clan closest 2 the barns...

🪵 i-eat-moss Follow

Uh sorry ar ewe just glossing over how @barncat-vibes and @trouttail-prefers-bass are IRLS???!!!!?

#mutuals i can understand since they have the same ideas on like #social justice stuff... they both post trans stuff sometimes #but #IRLS? #SOMEONE is fucking with me #i met trouttail once at a gathering #nice dude #suuuper weird to imagine him knowing barncat-vibes

27 notes

🌅 kit-names-inspo Follow

I've decided to make a full post on this, since I've noticed this issue a lot lately. So let me make this clear:

I am NOT comfortable with "transgender" cats using my name suggestions to pick out new names. The service I provide is to help queens who have or are having kits, not confused males who think they're mollies.

STOP using my blog for your delusions.

🌅 kit-names-inspo Follow

Go ahead and unfollow me. I didn't want you 200 transgenders on my blog anyway.

🛤 carnation-stem-02 Follow

Anyone else find it funny how after this post OP lost 200+ followers? Anyone?

Anyway for a better source of names for trans mollies, toms & enbies, @name-lists-by-theme has much better names, sorted much more cleanly, AND she's not a transphobe.

#trans #fuck transphobia #fuck transphobes #fuck terfs #<- kit-names-inspo is a self-proclaimed radfem&terf btw

17,092 notes

🔁 🐍xviper-the-fagx reblogged

🤍 snwtl Follow

I can't believe we're being told to "normalize" cats becoming kittypets now. Do you have any idea how many cats would just abandon their families if it became socially acceptable to run off and live with the twolegs???

🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow

Honestly (as someone who left the Clans because I had a mate in the twolegplace), I haven't seen this to be as true as you're saying. I've seen one cat who "abandoned" his family to become a kittypet, if you count his abusive ex-partner, but for the most part, the cats we leave behind are understanding and okay with the fact that we have to move on. I wasn't meant for warrior life, and I left it, and I'm happier for it.

🤍 snwtl Follow

The fact that you would even imply it's okay to abandon your family for a life as a kittypet only serves to prove my point. You make me sick.

🪺 robbbinpaw Follow

Crow-food-worth reading comprehension

#yeah #snwtl (snowtail i think?) needs to use their eyes lmao #starclan this place gets on my last nerve #thinking of taking a break from clanblr because of shit like this

847 notes

🌱 dirtdigger-23 Follow

Uhh... where am I. My dash looks weird...