#i will carve myself into you and take my time giving you this 'love' // OC: Ankur

[thefearfulheart]

Overdue Intro Post

Been meaning to do this for awhile in all honesty.

I'm going to be posting more oc content (content in general will be somewhat inappropriate) and most of them have heavy themes that include: abuse, cannibalism, sexual content, mild mutilation, manipulation, unhealthy power dynamic's and quite a few other theme's that I will tag appropriately when the need arises.

Would prefer minor's to not follow me given that the content I will post will be inappropriate.

Mostly will be posting about anything that interests me but a majority of it will be Malevolent, The Magnus Protocol and Vampire the Masquerade since I'm obsessed with those.

Ask me anything about my oc's if you want and I'll answer if you want. I'm easy lol

[daryltwdixon]

Hello,

I would like to request something angsty with some fluff.

I'm going through the worst time right now, on the verge of tears all of the time and my anxiety is through the roof.

Just need some Daryl x Reader fluff and him making it all better, not even making it all better just being there. I'm not explaining myself very well, sorry. Maybe based around the time jump when Daryl was just living in a tent? The OC turns up at his tent just absolutely broken and collapses, maybe even mute for a little while? I will totally understand if you don't want to write some hella depressing shit but I love your writing and each one of your fics makes me forget about my world for a little bit. <3

Daryl x Reader fluff

thank you for the request and hope you're doing okay hunny x

The forest is quiet, save for the crackling of the small fire and the distant rustle of leaves in the breeze. Daryl sits outside his tent, crossbow leaned against the log he’s perched on, knife in hand as he works on carving something small and meaningless—just to keep his hands busy. Dog lies nearby, ears twitching as he listens to the woods.

The faint snap of a twig makes Daryl’s head jerk up, shoulders tense. His hand instinctively grips the knife tighter, and Dog lifts his head, letting out a low, warning growl.

“Quiet,” Daryl mutters, standing and scanning the tree line. It’s not uncommon for the dead to wander close, even this far out. But then, he hears it—a shuffle, too uneven to be a walker, too heavy to be an animal.

And then he sees you.

You’re a ghost of yourself, shoulders hunched, face pale, arms wrapped around your torso like you’re holding yourself together. Your steps are unsteady, like your legs might give out at any moment, but your eyes lock on his, and you stop a few feet from him.

“Y/N?” His voice is low, cautious, like you might vanish if he speaks too loud. His knife drops to his side, forgotten. “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”

You don’t answer. You don’t even look like you can. Your lips part slightly, but no sound comes out. Instead, you take one more step and then another before your knees buckle.

Daryl lunges forward, catching you just before you hit the ground. His hands are rough, strong, but careful as he lowers you to sit in the dirt. “Hey, hey—what’s goin’ on? You hurt?” His eyes dart over you, searching for injuries, but you just shake your head, a quick, jerky motion.

Dog pads over, whining softly, and presses his nose against your arm. Slowly, he nudges your hand, and when you don’t push him away, he lays his head in your lap. Your fingers twitch like you want to pet him but can’t quite summon the energy.

“Shit,” Daryl mutters under his breath, kneeling beside you. “You’re... you’re okay, yeah? Not sick?” He places a hesitant hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against the curve of your collarbone. Your skin is cold through the thin fabric of your shirt.

Your breath hitches, and for a second, he thinks you’re about to speak. But instead, you curl forward, pressing your forehead against his chest. It’s not a hug, exactly—it’s more like you’ve collapsed into him, like he’s the only solid thing keeping you upright.

Daryl freezes, stiff as a board, not sure what to do with his hands. But when he hears your breath hitch again, feels the faint tremor running through you, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. “S’alright,” he murmurs, voice gruff but quiet. “You’re alright.”

For a long time, neither of you moves. The fire crackles, and Dog stays where he is, his warmth a comforting weight against your legs. Daryl doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t push you to speak. He just sits there, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back, until the shaking subsides.

“You don’t gotta say nothin’,” he says after a while, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay. Don’t gotta go nowhere.” His chin brushes the top of your head, and you feel him shift, settling against the tree trunk behind him so you can lean against him more comfortably.

The forest is a little less cold as you settle into him, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel completely untethered. You close your eyes, and his hand keeps tracing those soft, grounding circles on your back, steady as the heartbeat you can hear through his chest.

Daryl doesn’t let go. Even when the trembling in your body begins to settle, even when your breathing evens out, he stays right there, his arms wrapped around you like he’s afraid you’ll fall apart if he loosens his grip.

After a while, he shifts slightly, leaning over to grab the old, patched-up blanket from inside the tent. “Hold on,” he mutters, voice low but soft, like he’s trying not to spook you. He drapes the blanket over your shoulders and tugs you closer, cocooning both of you in the warmth.

The blanket smells like him—earthy, a little smoky, and something you can’t quite place but is inexplicably Daryl. He pulls the edges tight, tucking you in against his chest like he’s trying to shield you from the rest of the world.

Dog moves to lie down beside you, pressing his back against your legs. His warmth, paired with the steady rise and fall of Daryl’s chest, makes the cold night feel a little less biting.

Daryl’s hand never stops moving—slow, careful circles on your back. Every so often, his thumb brushes against the nape of your neck, a touch so gentle it nearly brings tears to your eyes. He shifts again, leaning his head against yours, the rough scruff of his beard grazing your temple.

“You’re safe,” he murmurs, his voice raspier now, quieter, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you. “Ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you. You hear me?”

You don’t answer, but he doesn’t seem to need you to. His arms tighten around you, holding you like you’re the only thing anchoring him, too. His breathing slows, matching yours, and his fingers now threading lightly through your hair, untangling it in soft, absent motions.

“Dunno what happened,” he mutters, his words nearly lost in the stillness of the forest. “Don’t matter. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He leans his cheek against the top of your head, his lips brushing against your hair. The weight of his affection settles over you like the blanket, warming you from the inside out. You feel yourself relax further, melting into him like this is where you were always meant to be.

You don’t know how long you sit there, wrapped up in him and the blanket, with Dog snoring softly at your side. For the first time in what feels like forever, the ache in your chest isn’t so sharp, the cracks in your armor not so unbearable. Daryl doesn’t try to fix anything or ask you to explain yourself—he just stays, his presence steady and unwavering.

Maybe tomorrow will bring answers, but for now, there’s only this—the quiet and him.

[quilloftheages]

Chapter 1: A Night in Vienna - Hans Landa x OC (1st Person)

Premise 

Set in the Inglourious Basterds universe, Elizabeth Acton, the daughter of an Oxford diplomat, is studying history at the University of Vienna in the 1920s. After an unexpected encounter with the enigmatic detective Hans Landa, their lives intertwine in a passionate romance. Despite a loving marriage and idyllic life together, Elizabeth's world is shattered when Hans mysteriously disappears, leaving only a note. Heartbroken and alone, she embarks on a journey to Paris to rebuild her life and confront the haunting question: why did Hans leave? And will she ever see him again?

Story: 

Chapter 1

Vienna, in the late 1920’s, had a certain magic to it. It was a city of art, music, and intellect, where the streets echoed with the footsteps of philosophers and dreamers. I had arrived here from Oxford, together with my family. My father’s career as a diplomat meant he was stationed in the city, and though Vienna was a world away from the rolling green hills of England, I found myself captivated by its allure. The university of Vienna was renowned for its history program, and studying here seemed the perfect way to carve out my future. 

But if I’m honest, I was just drawn to the idea of escape. Oxford, for all its charm, had always felt like a cage. My father’s expectations, the stifling formality of our lives – it all felt so scripted. Vienna, on the other hand, promised something different. It was a city alive with possibilities, and I was determined to take advantage of every one. 

In the evenings, after long days of lectures, I’d attend French lessons with my friends, Elise and Margot. The lessons were my ticket to the next dream: Paris. I’d always imagined myself walking the boulevards, teaching history at a lycée, living among the poets and artist. It was a romantic vision, perhaps, but at eighteen, I had no reasons not to dream big. 

One night, after our French class, we decided to stop at a bar near the city center. It was a cozy little place, dimly lit with a warm glow from the gas lamps and the gentle hum of conversation in the air. The scent of tobacco smoke mingled with the sharp aroma of schnapps and beer, and the clinking of glasses felt like the pulse of the room. We took a seat in a corner, practicing our French while laughing at Elise’s attempts to order wine In the language. 

It was then that I saw him for the first time. 

He stood near the bar, dressed in a dark, tailored coat, his posture straight and confident. There was something striking about him – sharp cheekbones, piercing eyes that seemed to take in everything around him without giving anything away. His gaze moved across the room and paused on us, or more specifically, on me. 

I tried not to look back, but curiosity got the better of me. our eyes met, and a flicker of smile played at the corner of his mouth. Something about it unsettled me, though I couldn’t quite put a finger on why. Still, I felt drawn to him. 

Elise noticed my starring. “He’s a handsome one. Though I must say perhaps a little too old for you.” She teased. Margot noticed what we were talking about and chuckled. “Good for you, Liz. He’s handsome and older. Every woman’s dream” she teased. I chuckled at both of them. Margot was the flirt of the group. Every man wanted her, and every woman wanted to be her. 

“Not interested,” I lied as I took a sip of my glass of wine, trying to escape the conversation. Elise sent me a small smile while Margot just chuckled, “If you say so,” she teased back. Our conversation flowed until suddenly I noticed a presence standing by our table. I looked up and spotted the man from before. Up close he didn’t seem tall, but he had a commanding presence. 

“Good evening, ladies,” he said in flawless German, tipping his hat politely. My German was rudimentary, but I caught enough to understand his greeting. His voice was smooth, carrying an air of authority. “May I join you?”

Elise glanced at me a bit unsure. But Margot, always the bold one, nodded. “Of course,” she replied. 

He pulled out a chair, sitting down with ease, his attention now fully on me. “Hans Landa,” he introduced himself, extending his hand. 

I shook it, trying to suppress the shutter of nerves. “Elizabeth Acton,” I replied in English, my German too weak for conversation. 

“You’re not from here,” he said, switching effortlessly to English. It was more of a statement than a question. 

“No,” I smiled, a little surprised at his fluency. “Oxford, originally. My father is a diplomat, stationed here for now. I’m studying at the university.” 

“Ah, a student of history in the city of history and culture.” His smile widened, though there was sometime about it that remained enigmatic, unreadable. 

“How did you know I studied history?” I asked baffled, not having told him that. He sent me a wolf-like smile. “Intuition,” he replied, making all of his chuckle. 

“What brings you to Vienna? Aside from your father’s work?” he asked. 

“I wanted to study here. It seemed… different. And I’m learning French. We all are, actually.” I paused, feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze. “I’d like to go to Paris someday.”

“Paris is beautiful,” he said, leaning back slightly. “But Vienna has its own charm. You may find it hard to leave once you lived here long enough.” 

Our conversation drifted into safer topics – Vienna, my studies, the little things about the city that charmed me. Hans listened attentively, nodding at all the right moments, his dark eyes never leaving mine. There was something magnetic about him. He was older, more worldly, but that only made him more intriguing. 

As the evening wore on, I found myself relaxing in his presence. He had a way making you feel like you were the only person in the room, as if your words mattered more than anyone else’s. And yet, there was something guarded about him, something he held back. 

I was drawn to that mystery. ______________________________________________________________

It had only been a few days since that night at the bar, but Hans Landa had already lodged himself in my thoughts. There was something about his presence that lingered, like a faint scent you couldn’t quite place but couldn’t forget. His attention was exhilarating.

After another evening of French lessons, my friends and I decided to take a different route home. The bustling square near St. Stephen’s Cathedral was vibrant with life – street vendors packing up for the night, the smell of roasted chestnuts in the air, and couples hurrying off to their favourite cafés. And then, as we turned the corner, I saw him. 

Hans stood leaning casually against a lamppost, his hat tipped slightly forward, watching the world pass by. His eyes flicked toward me, and I felt my heart skip. 

“Good evening, Miss Acton,” he greeted me with a slow smile, ignoring my friend, focusing solely on me. 

I was momentarily stunned that he remembered my name. “Mr. Landa,” I replied, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt. 

“Vienna is small, after all,” he said, his English accented but fluent. “We seem to be crossing paths again.” 

He gestured toward the street. “May I walk with you? Unless, of course, I’m interrupting.” He glanced briefly at Elise and Margot, but it was clear he was only asking out for politeness. 

I hesitated, glancing at my friends. Margot just smirked, while Elise gave me a knowing look and whispered. “Go ahead. We’ll see you tomorrow.” 

And just like that, I found myself walking with Hans through the twilight streets of Vienna, the atmosphere between us buzzing with curiosity. We talked – well, mostly he asked questions, and I answered. I found myself telling him more about my studies, about Oxford, my father’s work, my childhood. He listened with an intensity that made me feel seen. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said as we neared my street. “How are the French lessons going?”

I smiled sheepishly. “I understand much more than I can speak. My accent is… rather terrible.” 

He chuckled, and the sound warmed me. “Perhaps I could help.” 

I looked up at him and smiled. “I would like that very much.” 

The next week, Hans appeared outside the university as I was leaving my class. His presence was becoming less of a surprise and more of an expectation – one I wasn’t sure how to feel about, yet undeniably looked forward to. 

“Miss Acton,” he greeted, falling into step beside me. “I’ve been thinking about your French. If you’d like, I could assist with your lessons.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “You speak French?”

“Fluently,” he said, with a touch of pride. “After all, I’ve spent some time in France during my travels for work.” 

I was hesitant at first. Hans was a detective, a man with a mysterious aura, and this offer felt oddly personal. But I agreed. 

And so, our meetings took on a new routine. We would meet after my French lessons, and Hans would quiz me, correcting my pronunciation with gentle patience. It was strange – he was often so sharp and perceptive, but with me, he was careful, as though he didn’t want to rush anything. 

One evening, after correcting my imperfect “R” sound for what felt like the hundredth time, he looked at me with a teasing smile. “If you wish to speak with Parisians, you must soften your tongue. Let the language move through you like music.” 

His voice was so close, his breath warm against the evening air. I tried to phrase again, and he nodded approvingly, his smile lingering just a bit longer than usual. 

A few weeks later, after one of our informal lessons, we stood on the street corner, neither of us quite ready to say goodbye. 

Hans shifted, his eyes narrowing in thought before he spoke. “Elizabeth,” he began, using my first name for the first time, the sound of it unexpected and somehow intimate. “I’d like to take you out. Properly.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “You mean… as in a date?” 

His lips quirked into a half-smile. “Yes, a date. Tomorrow evening? There’s a small café near the Danube. Quiet, warm…I think you’d like it.” 

I hesitated for only a moment before nodding, with a smile. “I’d like that.” He smiled charmingly back which made my heart flutter. ______________________________________________________________

The café Hans had chosen was quaint, tucked away from the busy streets of Vienna. It had wooden tables, candlelight flickering in the soft breeze, and a view of the river that was simply enchanting. We sat by the window, the city reflecting off the water in soft hues of gold and blue. 

Hans seemed more relaxed than usual, the guarded air he often wore like amor fading in the candlelight. We talked about everything and nothing. I told him about my life in Oxford, about my younger brother, James, who was still in school. In return, he shared snippets of his life – he’d grown up here in Austria, in the Alps to be precise. He had travelled widely for his work, but seemed to evade anything too personal. 

As the evening drew on, there was a brief silence. Hans reached across the table, gently placing his hand over mine. 

“Elizabeth,” he said, his voice lower, more serious. “I enjoy this. Being with you. I… don’t often feel this way.” 

I felt my heart quicken. “Neither do I.” 

We walked along the Danube afterward, the stars reflecting off the water. When we stopped by the river’s edge, Hans turned to face me fully, his eyes dark and unreadable. For a moment, he simply looked at me, his gaze intense, as if weighing some unspoken decision. 

Then, without a word, he leaned down and kissed me, his lips warm and soft against mine. 

The kiss was gentle, tentative, as though he was testing the waters. His hand came up to cradle my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across my skin. I responded instinctively, letting my eyes closed as I melted into the warmth of his touch. The city seemed to blur around us, and for that brief moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. 

When we finally pulled away, the air between us was thick with unspoken emotions. I looked up at him, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but Hans, ever the enigma, simply smiled softly and took my hand, guiding me away from the river. ______________________________________________________________

The weeks that followed were filled with long walks, secret glances, and quiet conversations. Hans was unlike any man I had ever known – intelligent, mysterious, and yet gentle with me in ways I never expected. He was thoughtful, bringing me books from his personal collection, surprising me with small gifts like pressed flowers or an ink bottle from Paris, knowing I dreamt of going there. 

Our time together felt stolen, as if we were living in a world apart from everything else. We would meet in the afternoons after my classes, sit in a café or stroll through the gardens. There was always a tension beneath the surface, something deepening between us that neither of us could ignore. 

It was late one evening after dinner, and we were sitting in a quiet park beneath the glow of the streetlamps. Hans had been quieter than usual, his mood more intense, his eyes following me with a kind of hunger. I felt it too – the pull between us, the unspoken desire. 

We talked, but it was the only surface-level, both of us skirting around what we were really feeling. Finally, as the conversation died down, Hans turned to me, his expression unreadable. 

“I’ve been holding back, Fräulein,” he admitted, his voice low and raw. “But I don’t think I can anymore.” 

Before I could respond, he kissed me again, but this time there was nothing tentative about it. His lips pressed harder, his hands pulling me close, and I felt the full force of what had been simmering between us. I returned the kiss with equal intensity, my arms wrapping around his neck as the world spun around us. 

When we finally broke apart breathless, the air between us had changed. We didn’t speak, but there was no need. We both knew that things had shifted. I smiled up at him, and he smiled back. And in that moment, he seemed to me to be the most beautiful and charming man, I had ever met. ______________________________________________________________

It didn’t take long after that before Hans suggested to meet my family. My parents were cautious, particularly my father. He was sceptical of Hans, though polite. 

Dinner with my parents was a formal affair, and Hans, to his credit, handled it well. He charmed my mother with his knowledge of art, and even managed to get a laugh out of my younger brother, James, who was typical shy around strangers. My father, however, remained distant, his questions sharp, probing Hans’ background and intentions. 

After the meal, when Hans and my father retreated to the study for a private conversation, I was left with a knot of anxiety. My father was protective, and though he rarely interfered with my life, I could sense his concerns. 

When they finally emerged, Hans looked calm, though my father’s expression remained unreadable. Still, when he shook Hans’ hand, there was a sense of grudging respect. 

I followed him to the door, and while I really wanted to kiss him, I couldn’t with my parents lingering close by. He smiled at me and winked as he left, making me chuckle. 

That night as I went to bed, I had a smile on my face and dreamed of Hans. 

We continued like this for months. He would help my study, take me on walks, to see museums and art galleries. He had come over a couple of more times to dine with my family, and in time my father seemed to like him more and more. 

Even after all of this it still took me by complete surprise. I came home one evening after class, expecting the house to be quiet. Instead, I found Hans sitting in the Parlor, his hat resting on the table beside him, his coat neatly folded over the chair. My heart raced in surprise. 

“Hans? What are you doing here?” I asked, stepping into the room, confusion clear on my face. 

He stood, walking over to me with a serious expression. “I’ve just spoken with your father.” 

My stomach flipped. “About what?” I asked in concern. 

Hans took my hands in his, his grip firm but gentle. His eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time since we’d met, I saw something like uncertainty in his gaze. 

“My liebe, Elizabeth,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve asked your father for his blessing to marry you.” 

The air seemed to leave the room, and I stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. 

“I love you,” he continued, his hands tightening slightly around mine. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll have me.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and all I could do was nod. 

Hans smiled then, a rare, genuine smile that made my heart soar. He pulled me into his arms, and as he held me close, I whispered, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

We kissed again, and this time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty - just the promise of a future together. 

Just a few short months later, I graduated from the University of Vienna. Hans was there, sitting in the audience with that same proud smile that made my heart flutter. The diploma in my hands felt like a culmination of years of hard work, a symbol of the life I had dreamed of building. But the moment I walked across the stage, my eyes found Hans, and I realised in that moment that the future was no longer just mine – it was ours. 

Our wedding followed soon after. It was a small, intimate ceremony in a charming Viennese church, attended by my family and friends, and some of Hans’ friends. My mother fussed over every detail, while my father walked me down the aisle, his expression soft with emotion. Hans waited at the altar, looking more handsome than I’d ever seen him, his dark eyes flowing with affection and promise.

The ceremony was simple but perfect. The moment we kissed as husband and wife, I felt a swell of love so strong that it left me breathless. I knew my life had changed forever. ______________________________________________________________

After the wedding, I moved into Hans’ apartment – a beautiful, sunlit space in the heart of Vienna. The rooms were filled with the warm, earthy scent of wood and leather, and large windows overlooked the bustling streets below. It was smaller than my family’s home, but it felt infinitely cozier. We spent our first days as newlyweds either in bed or arranging the apartment to make it our own, combining our lives piece by piece. 

Life settled into a peaceful rhythm. I found work as a teacher at a local girls’ school, a position that fulfilled me more than I could have imagined. The students were eager to learn, and I found myself pouring my heart into every lesson. 

Hans’ work as a detective kept him busy, but when he was home, we filled our time with quiet dinners, long walks through Vienna’s parks, and cozy nights reading together by the fire. He would often surprise me with flowers or a new book, and I loved the small ways we cared for each other. We were happy – truly, blissfully happy. 

A year or so into the marriage, my father received word that his posting in Vienna was coming to an end. My parents were being re-stationed back to England, and though I knew this day would come, it still felt like shock. 

The evening before their departure, my family gathered for a final dinner at our favourite restaurant. The air was thick with emotion – my mother trying to hold back tears, my father quieter than usual, and James, now taller and more mature, struggling to say goodbye. 

“I’m proud of you,” my father said, hugging me tightly. “And I know you’ve made the right choice.”

I watched them leave the next morning, waving until their car disappeared from view, tears streaming down my face. Vienna felt emptier without them, but I still had Hans. And that was enough.  ______________________________________________________________

Hans I had tried to start a family, but as the years went by, our hopes began to fade. Each month brought fresh disappointment, and I started to fear that the fault lay with me. Doctors confirmed my worst fears – something about my body, something I couldn’t fix, made it difficult, perhaps impossible, for me to conceive. 

I wept often during that time, feeling a deep sense of failure. Hans, ever gentle and patient, would hold me, his hands stroking my hair as I sobbed into his chest. 

“We’ll be fine,” he whispered, though I could hear the sadness in his voice. “We heave each other, my darling Elizabeth. That’s all I need.” 

He never blamed me, not once. But I couldn’t help but feel like I had let him down. 

To lift our spirits, Hans surprised me with a trip to Paris – the city I had always dreamed of visiting. We arrived in spring, the city blooming with life and colour. The air was warm, the streets lively with music and laughter. Paris was everything I had imagined it would be – romantic, vibrant, and a full of history. 

We spent our days strolling along the Seine, visiting art galleries and historical landmarks. Hans took me to a charming little café, the same one we had spoken about on one of our first dates, and we sat for hours drinking wine and watching the world go by. 

One evening, as we stood on a bridge overlooking the river, the lights of the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance, Hans pulled me close. “I promised you Paris,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “And here we are.” 

It was a perfect moment. I felt as though all my dreams had come true, even if the path was different that I’d imagined. 

Years passed in a contended blur. We had settled into a comfortable life in Vienna, one filled with love, even if it wasn’t the life I had originally planned. I was happy teaching, and Hans was content in his work, though he often spoke of darker times looming in the political sphere. 

One day, I came home from work, expecting to find Hans waiting for me, as usual. Instead, the house was eerily quiet. On the dining table, there was a single note, written in his familiar, neat script. 

I’ve been called away on urgent business. Fear not, I will return soon. Trust me. I love you, mein liebe, Elizabeth. 

I stared at the note, my heart pounding in my chest. Hans had never left like this before. His work as a detective sometimes required long hours, but he had always kept me informed. Now, he had disappeared with only a cryptic message. 

As I ate my supper I could not shake of the feeling of loneliness. I spent the rest of the evening reading but found myself often looking at Hans’ chair and felt sad. As I went to bed that night, I wore one of Hans’ shirts in hope that it would quench my longing for him, but it did the exact opposite. I only found myself missing him more. ______________________________________________________________

The days without Hans turned into weeks, and those weeks into months. At first, I tried to carry on as if nothing had changed. I went to the school, taught my students, and returned home to an empty apartment. I pretended I wasn’t watching the clock, that I wasn’t waiting for the sound of his footsteps on the stairwell or the creak of the front door.

But the silence grew unbearable. 

His note lay where I had left it, on the mantle above the fireplace, the ink faded but still legible. I must have read it a thousand times, hoping that somehow, if I stared hard enough, the words would change, or that they would reveal some hidden meaning. But there was nothing. Just the same cryptic message, and the same growing fear gnawing at my insides. 

Where had he gone? Why had he not told me? And – worst of all – was he ever coming back?

I had tried to remain strong, but Vienna no longer felt like the vibrant city I had fallen in love with. Every corner of the apartment whispered of our life together – the quiet breakfasts by the window, the evening spent reading by the fire, and the late nights when Hans would pull me close and hold me as if I was the most precious thing in the world. Without him, those memories were like shadows, haunting me with their absence. 

It wasn’t just his disappearance that hurt. It was the not knowing. Hans had always been so careful with his words, so precise, and yet this time, he had left me with nothing but uncertainty. His work as a detective had always involved secrets, but this felt different. This felt personal. 

One evening, I visited his office, my hope dwindling with every passing day. His colleagues gave me nothing but blank stares, polite refusals, and vague promises that they’d look into it. But they didn’t seem to care. Hans was just another name on a list of officers, one who had apparently gone off on some undisclosed mission. I was his wife, yet it seemed as though I knew the least of all. 

Trust me. 

How was I supposed to trust him when he had left me like this? ______________________________________________________________

I began to write to him. At first, it was just a few words on paper, trying to make sense of the chaos in my mind. But as the weeks went by, the letters grew longer, filled with everything I couldn’t say aloud. I told him about the school, about my students, and how they were thriving in their history lessons. I wrote about Vienna, the city we had both loved so much, and hot it now seemed to reflect the emptiness inside me. 

I even wrote about my dreams – the ones we had shared, the life we had planned. I told him how much I wanted to see him, to hold him, to hear his voice again. How I missed the warmth of his touch, the way his eyes would soften when he looked at me. 

But there was no address to send the letters to. no place where I could reach him. So they remained in a drawer, growing in number, waiting for the say when I might have the chance to give them to him. 

After months of waiting in vain, something inside me snapped. It wasn’t an act of anger or frustration, but rather a quiet, aching realisation that I could no longer stay here, trapped in a life that had once been filled with love and now felt like a prison. 

I began to pack my things, carefully folding away the clothes and trinkets that had once made up our home. The books we had collected together, the small souvenirs from our trips around the city – everything seemed to carry the weight of what had been lost. I left the ring Hans had given me on the bedside table, the one reminder of the love we had shared, but I couldn’t bear to wear it anymore. 

My final goodbyes were said to the few friends I had made, those who had watched me as I slowly crumbled under the weight of Hans’ absence. They offered me sympathy, but no one had any real answers. Vienna had become too painful for me to stay. 

Paris had always been my dream, and now, in the absence of everything, it seemed like the only place I could go. 

I booked my passage on the next train to France, leaving behind the life I had built, the one I had hoped to share with Hans. The city I had once loved felt foreign to me now, its streets empty without him by my side. As the train pulled out of the station, I looked back one last time at the skyline of Vienna, the domes and spires that had been the backdrop to my happiest moments. 

But I knew there was nothing left for me here. Not anymore. ______________________________________________________________

Paris was everything I had imagined it to be – the cut of lights, of romance, and art. But it was also a city of ghosts, filled with reminders of the life I had once dreamed of having with Hans. Every corner café, every bridge across the Seine, every street vendor selling flowrrs – all of it reminded me of the promises we had made to each other, the life we were supposed to build together. 

But Paris was also where I began to heal. 

I found a small apartment near Montmartre, not far from the artists and musicians who brought the street to life with their creativity. It was nothing like the apartment Hans and I had shared in Vienna, but it was mine. A space where I could start over. 

Teaching had always been my passion, and I found work at a local school. The children here were different – more worldly, more curious. They asked questions about the world beyond France, and I found myself telling them stories of Vienna, of the history I had studied so passionately. In a way, it felt like I was teaching them about the life I had lost. 

Days turned into weeks, and slowly, I began to find some measure of peace. The ache of Hans’ absence never truly left, but it become more bearable with time. I still thought of him often – wondering where he was, whether he was safe, and if he ever thought of me. But I no longer let those thoughts consume me. 

Paris became my sanctuary. It wasn’t the life I had planned, but it was a life, nonetheless. And for the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe again. 

I still had the letters, tucked away in a small box at the back of my closet. I hadn’t written to him in a long time, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away. They were a record of my grief, my longing, my hope. 

Sometimes, late at night, I would open the box and read through them, imagining what it would be like to see Hans again. I wondered if he would still recognise the woman I had become – the one who had been broken by his absence but had somehow found strength to go on. 

Perhaps one day I would find the courage to let him go entirely. But for now, I held on to the memories, the love we had shared, and the hope that somewhere, Hans was thinking of me too. 

I wasn’t sure if I would ever hear from him again. But I had learned to live with the uncertainty. After all, life in Paris had given me something precious – myself. 

Everything was getting better – until the war began. 

[aliasrocket]

Oo wow! First time I've put in an ask in for ya! (I hope you don't mind answering my silly little thoughts)

But how do you think Rocket would react to the reader pole dancing whether it is stripper based or professionally done? (I just think pole dancing is super neat and very hard to do and that it gets looked down upon so often so I'm just wondering<3)

(I'm totally asking for my OC Moon cause she's a pole dancer 👉👈)

You don't gotta answer if ya don't wanna! love ya!ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ<33

I’ve always been a fan of sports like those, oml, I wanted to take this for a long time but my mom made me invest in figure skating when I was younger. I’m not even sure if pole dancing is a sport but it takes a hell of a lot of exercise to get it down right so I’m saying it is.

I know I’ve talked about reader being a bartender at knowhere in rocket x reader fics but I’ve always thought a pole stripper reader wld also work so well with Rocket mainly because. Well. Rocket’s a horny fuck. (At least in the comics, and in my heart, he is.)

I know the typical headcanon would probably be him making the dirtiest comments about you when he watches you practice but I imagine it going very differently especially if you guys have been in a relationship for quite some time.

Rocket’s eyes were very used to tracing things like wires, plugs, batteries, bolts. Very shiny things in general. Though he wasn’t quite sure he’d ever get used to glistening skin sliding against a silver pole, legs tangling and swinging in a sort of orbit as every curve and edge of you was stretched and carved into a moving piece of art before his eyes.

“Rocket, what are you doing here?” You chirped, hair reaching for the floor as your head hung completely upside down, the rest of your body outstretched at an askew angle with the pole snug between your thighs. “Thought you were still on commission.”

“Yeah, it ended a day early,” he replied, eyes lining your ass when you slowly lowered your leg, causing the arc to compress.

Rocket had definitely gotten you off that pole only to give you the best goddamn fuck in your life. And he’d done it multiple times over the span of your relationship, no surprise there when you looked so damn sexy in those clothes that had his imagination lazy from how much he didn’t have to imagine.

But today, it wasn’t about that.

Rocket settled himself into a chair by the side after asking if you wanted a water break, to which you replied that you’ve already had one. He smiled, and he didn’t know why he lowered his face when he did it.

But he found out why the moment you caught him.

“What?” You smiled right back, as if you hadn’t just caught Rocket red handed.

“Nothing, nothing.” Damn, he was still doing it, and all he could do was show you his palms as he raised his hands in defense.

You got off the pole, dusting yourself off as you took the smallest steps towards him.

“C’mon, I can’t focus with you smiling like that.”

“You don’t like me smiling?”

“I wanna know what you’re thinking Rocket.”

You locked your hands on your hips, ending up in front of him as he looked up with you with a cocked brow.

Rocket exhaled, and then, his gaze softened when he observed the way you looked at him. It was the same way he loved to look at you, spinning around, doing all those stunts with such grace and precision.

Now slumped against the back rest of the chair, he completely surrendered himself to you the moment his jaw parted.

“It’s so easy to admire you sometimes, you know?” Rocket confessed. He couldn’t bear to look at you, so his eyes dug a hole in the floor instead. “I know I get ahead of myself sometimes but fuck, you look so dedicated in what you do. Seeing you work hard for this … you’re fucking capable of anything you wanna do, princess.”

A blur reached below him and lifted his chin, and it was almost like looking directly at a shooting star. He couldn’t bear to look but now his eyes widened like he needed more of it to keep under his eyelids so he could keep seeing it when he closed his eyes.

He always knew how pretty you were, but with the way you grinned with your cheeks rising to your eyes he always regretted not letting you know sooner.

“I love you, Rocket.”

“I love you too,” he muttered your name, and just like his eyes, he sprinkled little stars all over it.

like you wouldn’t believe.

[theoutcastwrites]

I finally did it. Here are some Genshin-style voicelines I wrote for my Genshin OC, Eir, for whom I will soon make a separate post detailing her backstory and the like.

Eir

A hardworking nurse of Bimarstan. Though her past is shrouded in mystery to most, it takes no more than a careful look to see that her shadow takes the form of a long fallen kingdom.

Hello

My name is Eir. I've been told a lot about you... By whom? Oh, it doesn't matter. If you ever need me, feel free to find me at Bimarstan. I'll be happy to lend a helping hand.

Chat: Work.

I hope I won't have any more patients today... For their sakes.

Chat: Scars

My scars? No, they don't bother me anymore, you need not worry. I can't imagine myself without them now; how I got them is a story for another time. Let's not waste time, alright?

Chat: Wood carving

Say, would you like me to carve something for you? I'll make it small, so that you may easily keep it in your pocket... What? You have a realm that can be accessed through a teapot? That's... Would you happen to have spare cedar wood there? I'll get straight to work.

When It Rains

Oh, not now... Come on, let's find shelter.

When Thunder Strikes

I have heard that Inazumans find comfort in the thunder, as it is a sign that their Archon is watching over them... Hmph. Elsewhere, this was a signal for catastrophe.

When It Snows

Make "snow angels"? Ah, that... No, sorry. I suppose I'm far too old for something like that.

When The Sun Is Out

The world has never looked more beautiful. Come on, let's head outside.

In The Desert

Do you think we could go back? I don't really- ah, nevermind.

Good Morning

I hope you slept well. There's some coffee on the table; drink some, you'll feel energized. As for me, I've got to get ready for work. I'll see you in the evening, alright?

Good Afternoon

Let's have lunch together. I know just the place.

Good Evening

You're here! How sweet of you to wait for me. Come on, I'll make us dinner - it's an old recipe.

Goodnight

Thank you for being with me today. It's less lonely with you by my side. Now, feel free to sleep here. I promise my bed is comfortable. Hm? No, I don't mind, I don't sleep anyway... H-Hey, just not that side, alright?

About Eir: Curse

I can feel my mind eroding. It's terrifying, is it not? One day, I will be turned into an empty shell of myself, every inch of my identity replaced by my curse. Sometimes, I wonder what they felt in their last moments. Did they know that they were being turned into monsters, doomed to wander Teyvat for all eternity?

About Eir: Letting Go

Some people can't be kept in your life forever, no matter how much you may wish otherwise. Be it fate or that person's will, there is always something that gets in the way. I've learned not to have too much hope, and yet...

About Us: Odd Ones Out

Most people in Sumeru accept me as one of their own, yet I can feel them staring at me, as if I'm this strange, wounded kitten... I suppose you and I have that in common, hm? We stand out, without even having to try.

About Us: Loss

You needn't hide your pain from me. I know, better than most, how it feels to lose everything you love. I know. You deserve to feel angry. However, I believe that you will be reunited with your sibling sooner than later. As for myself, I don't expect too much. Worry for yourself first and foremost, alright?

About the Vision

Of course you'd notice. No, I'm not proud of it. Do I have reason to be? Celestia took everything from me, only to give me this piece of junk afterwards. If the day ever comes that I start using this Vision, just know that my curse has consumed my consciousness.

Something to Share

Take it slow. Appreciate the journey while it lasts; you never know when it may end.

Interesting Things

Say, have you noticed a little fairy running around Sumeru City these days? Short, pale, wearing a green dress? No? How strange. I could have sworn she was watching us earlier today.

About Dainsleif: Longing

Have you seen him recently? No? I figured. He comes and goes as he pleases. The next time you see him, tell him to take care. It's only a matter of time before he hurts himself, you know how he is... And, please, tell him that the swan misses her knight. I need him to know.

About Dainsleif: Memories

If I am fated to live a century more, then I will forget the days I spent with him, reminiscing what little we remembered of our past lives. Does that thought haunt him as it haunts me?

About Kaveh: First Meeting

Actually, I first met Kaveh when he was a student in the Akademiya. Funny, right? I have always looked the same, but back then, Kaveh had quite the baby face, only made worse by his luscious blonde hair, which he often wore in a braid. He was adorable. Don't tell him I said this though - he'll never talk to me again.

About Kaveh: Gifts

Kaveh once expressed that he wanted some wooden sculptures in his home, so I took it upon myself to make one for him: a tall lion with its mouth open in a roar. You don't want to know how long that one took to complete, believe me. Anyway, Kaveh would not stop showering me with praise and affection after receiving his gift. He teared up, too; I swear, he was wiping at his eyes for a moment there. Heh, maybe I should make something better next time. How would he react then?

About Albedo

Rhinedottir gave him a mission that is nigh impossible to complete and left his life without a trace. This is surprising to nobody. Is there a single person in this world she hasn't abandoned?

About Nilou

A few years ago, Nilou was taken to Bimarstan because she had sprained her ankle while preparing for a show. She was in tears, the poor thing. I could guess the sort of thoughts that were running through her head so, out of pity, I made an exception and used alchemy to heal her injury. I shouldn't have, though. What if something went wrong? Luckily, Nilou recovered within a day. She was so overjoyed that she jumped up from her bed to hug me, haha... I've been going to all of her shows ever since. There is a special air about her that awakens a person's most deeply buried feelings.

About Faruzan

It is nice to know that she has remained the same after a hundred years. Anyone else would have crumbled under the pressure of adapting to a new life, but not Faruzan. She was always such a bright child... Hm? Oh, no, I'm never calling her Madam Faruzan. In her dreams.

About Rhinedottir

I don't know how to feel about her. On one hand, I can understand that Rhinedottir is the sort of person who will do the unthinkable when she's been cornered, yet... What could push a person to betray their homeland? I'm not sure. But I'm still bitter. She was the closest thing I had to a mother, and she knew that, too. Did it cross her mind when she chose power over loyalty?

More About Eir I

What else do you want to know? I have forgotten most of my past and the present is quite mundane. If you think I'm hiding something, then you're mistaken. I just have nothing more to share.

More About Eir II

Well, if you really want to know more... When I was still a novice under Rhinedottir's care, I tried to create a small pet using what little knowledge of alchemy I had. As one would expect, my attempt was a miserable one. I'd managed to create a cat, but it didn't have a mouth, and its fur was all multicolored and spiky. I really tried hard to save it, you know, maybe find a way to make its existence more comfortable, but the pet simply didn't function as it should have. The poor thing died within two days, and I never got too cocky in my abilities again. It was a humbling experience.

More About Eir III

Seeing this city for the first time after the cataclysm felt insulting. How was it possible that the people here could be at so much peace, while I experienced unimaginable suffering just across the Wall of Samiel? I resented the locals and, for a time, refused any help they offered. I felt like Celestia simply wasn't done taunting me. I was right for assuming so - a Khaenri'ahn can never find peace in this world.

More About Eir IV

Attachment comes with the risk of being abandoned. This is something that Celestia will never let me forget. Even if I were to start praying to the Dendro God, I would still wind up all alone.

More About Eir V

You can never go back to the past. I know this better than most, and the Abyss Order should know it too... Yet they pursue their dream of reviving our fallen kingdom, blind to their own folly... Maybe you could be the one to stop them.

Eir's Hobbies

Eating lokum after a long day of work while watching the sun set from my kitchen window is the perfect way to end the day.

Eir's Troubles

I do hope he's doing okay...

Favorite Food

Shawarma. You can never really go wrong with that.

Least Favorite Food

I'm not picky, so I'll eat anything I'm offered.

Receiving a Gift I

This is sublime... Can you teach me to make this?

Receiving a Gift II

Not what I was expecting, but it's good!

Receiving a Gift III

Oh! Ah, do you mind if I finish this at home? I'm not really hungry right now.

Birthday

Make a wish. Come on, don't be shy - you don't need to tell me what you wished for. Just think about what you want the most, and then blow out the candles. Your wish will come true as long as you truly want it, I promise.

[laylajeffany]

Word Count: 800,000+ (in-progress, with regular updates) Rating: T

Summary “Wednesday, you are so new to love’s torturous sting. It simply takes time to get used to the poison, my darling. You have to build up a tolerance for it. Then – you’ll start to wonder how you ever lived without it.”

Enid accidentally summons a demon in an attempt to communicate with her wolf, and somehow – that is not Wednesday’s biggest problem upon the return to Nevermore. With a raging suspicion that Principal Weems was not actually murdered, Wednesday starts to unravel her latest mystery while trying not to unravel herself. As emerging powers cause her to manifest physical symptoms, Wednesday has to learn to rely on those around her if she is going to grow as a Raven.

Ultra slow-burn WenClair, moving forward in an organic relationship, building from roommates to best friends to more. Picking up on some plot points from S1, Wednesday develops not only new abilities, but emotions and friendships as she examines her life through her new lens of Nevermore.

If you're new to this fic and unsure about starting due to the length, below the break will give you a spoiler-filled idea about when some of the major plot points/relationships happen.

Author's Note As I am squeezing in my writing time before vacation, I am reflecting on how proud I am of this fic. This is year 21 of writing fanfiction for me, and of course as we grow, our talents naturally increase, but I have never felt so accomplished about a piece of writing before. If you need some light reading (lmfao this fic will top one million words by the end of summer), I would like to recommend my own story. I don't ever do that and I probably won't do it again - but writing this fic has been such a bright spot in my life, and every opportunity I have to carve out a few thousand words I feel myself transcend.

When I received an old Addams Family book in the mail (here) a few weeks ago, I was flipping through and found the above summary of Wednesday. I have never felt more proud to be borrowing another character, as I feel that I do Charles Addams' Wednesday justice in this writing as we explore her sensitive/poetic side in addition to the harshness of her 2022 adaptation. (Don't worry - Enid will find Wednesday's sixth toe when she finally visits the Addams family home in Chapter 21.)

Chapters 1-5: Wenclair Roommate Friendship developing as Wednesday realized she'd genuinely missed Enid over the summer.

Main focus of early chapters is Wednesday trying to determine how Weems is alive, focusing on her powers starting to develop as physical symptoms and discovering more about how to tap in to her Raven abilities with the help of her mentor, the new administrator, Dr. Zypher. Dr. Zypher (39) is a herpetologist with a psychic ability to work with reptiles. She has been dating the only other known Raven, Emiliana, for 23 years, since they met via Larissa Weems at Nevermore. These two OCs have a very supportive and important role in the story. (We needed adults and ALL the important ones were killed off in S1. These OCs have been extremely well-received by the audience and are real people with flaws and strengths, distinct personalities. No Mary-Sues here, I promsie.)

Chapter 6: Enid breaks up with Ajax, Wednesday and Enid get closer than ever when the spirit Enid released attacks again. Wednesday vows to protect her. As Wednesday has found Weems trapped in her accidental shape-shift, she starts looking for divination-related ways to change her back. Wednesday starts to have to cope with very uncomfortable feelings that emerge from the ever-darkening of her visions as her powers start to grow massively.

Chapter 8: Wednesday starts to think she's closer to Enid than she ever has been to anyone else before. Wednesday learns about the importance of being vulnerable and showing some feelings. Starts to explore ways to protect Weems in her lower life form.

Chapter 10: Wednesday wonders what attraction is supposed to feel like, starts to think there may be something wrong with her. She knows what she is feeling for Enid is more than friendship but isn't experiencing physical attraction. Wednesday casts a powerful protection spell for Enid. Enid reveals that she imprinted on Wednesday during her first transformation and this has caused her extreme stress and alienation from her pack.

Chapter 11: Wednesday and Enid confront the spirit again. As it tries to possess Enid, Wednesday's protection spell holds and she confesses that night that she won't let anything happen to her because she loves her. She admits, she isn't sure if that love is romantic. Enid agrees with the sentiment and they decide to give it all more time. The girls start to work together to help Wednesday divert from the negative energy within her divination as part of her Raven nature to blend their energy together, earning more positive energy for Wednesday shared by Enid. Enid's mother is determined that Nevermore finds something to do about Enid's imprinting.

Chapter 13: Finally, the girls are dating after the full moon. It's adorable. Enid talks to her father and requests him to visit Nevermore.

Chapter 14: Things really take off with ways to help Weems transform Halloween - Wednesday temporarily banishes the spirit with Enid's help as they have grown so close.

Chapter 15: Wednesday starts to lose herself to divination a little bit as she becomes more desperate to complete the transformation on Weems. Dr. Zypher's Raven girlfriend arrives.

Chapter 16: Wednesday finally puts the pieces together and knows what she has to do to transform Weems. Enid's father arrives - she formally leaves her pack and considers Wednesday her main family. The Addams Family have accepted her whole-heartedly.

Chapter 17:-19 Successful transformation of Weems leads to extreme physical consequences for Wednesday. Lots of Wenclair Hurt/Comfort Wednesday resolves lots of tension with her family

Chapter 20: Closure of the first semester of events Wednesday invites herself into the "Nevermore Network" - an ambiguous concept alluded to throughout the story of how the Outcast world is all connected. These adults are increasingly interested in Wednesday's extreme shows of power and she goes behind her family/admin wishes to meet up with them when she returns to school in January.

Chapter 21: Yuletide & New Year - Enid at the Addams Family House

Chapter 22: Start of Second Semester at Nevermore Wednesday gets herself involved in some major drama within the Outcast community via the Nevermore Network Setting the stage for the second semester of events

[angryducktimemachine]

Hi Ed!

I really really love your drawings, specially the ones with holmes and your penciled ones. I hope it’s not to bold/rude of me to say but I’d love to draw like you, do you have any tips on where to start? I have some basics from forever ago but I very rusty on my abilities. Should I draw using references? A particular tutorial on YouTube? Something entirely different?

With love, from a fan of yours

Well first step you want to be a 11 year old that gets absolutely obsessed with Warrior Cats-

Ok jokes aside (and thank you very much first!!) I'll see what actual advice I can give you! My approach to art is not really actively focused on improving (as I do not want to do this as my job and so just take the motivation to practice something specific as it comes.) but I'll try and recall what has helped me over the years.

Using references is definitely a very useful thing, I'm currently trying to use them more when it comes to drawing fabric but they're useful for all sorts of things. what I did and do personally as well is just. Watching people. Trying to figure out how the movement of a body works, the way arms can bend or legs are stretched. This works both with your own body (sometimes I just stand in front of a mirror trying to see how my arm bends over my head to get a feeling for it's movement.) and just observing people in day to day life! I find this technique easier than "static" photo references cause I get a better feeling of the body but they can both be useful.

I never really watched YouTube tutorials however what I did watch is hours and hours and hours of speedpaints - i think they're really fun if you are looking for different tricks and techniques to try, the way this artist does linework vs how this one colours- i have a few up myself.

Third, if you're anything like me and thrive on compliments; get yourself a buddy who's as hyped about your own art as you are. I feel like this helps with both inspiration and motivation, most of the time when I had art, be it when i was still drawing cats or Star Wars OCs to now drawing Sherlock Holmes - I also had a friend who was currently into the same things I was - or even better, was actively creating characters and stories with me which gave me lots of ideas to draw.

Oh also a little side note if you ever find yourself frustrated with your art or struggle to find inspiration, it often helps me to switch things up a bit, do something different. Get out actual paint. Try (and fail, in my case) to carve something. Paint a wall. Learn origami. Do something with model clay. Convince yourself that you can sew anything if you just tried hard enough.

I hope at least a few of those things are useful - explaining how I got here art wise is a bit difficult cause I mainly just picked up a pen and then just never stopped. But art starts somewhere for us all and I hope you can find joy in creating!!

[themorticians-world]

I. Death .I

Xavier Thorpe x O.C

Helloooooo, this is my first time writing a fan fiction (I know lame) I usually just read them and whatever but I've had this idea for months now so I figured better late than never. *All copy rights go to the creators of Wednesday, and the music to Melanie Martinez. Those are their's to claim they just helped inspire me.* Also this has an Original Character and OC family. The last name hasn't been mentioned yet but it's Cauldron! Pls be nice, and let me know if there's anything I missed. This story WILL have smut, but I'm doing chapters.. Enjoy:)

"They're carving my name in the grave again

Their flowers fresh and their faces wet

my body has died, but I'm still alive

look over your shoulder I'm back from the dead.."

As I awaken, I feel my wings flutter. I know this is a rebirth, my previous body leaving this plane. I can feel as my body ignites, and I go through stages of hatching. As I breath in my new life and what's to come of my physical body, the flashbacks of what happened start to come full force. Fire surrounds me, everywhere I look I see the tall burning hot flames engulfing my once childhood home. I whimper as I realize I can’t find my family, “MOM” I yell into the whooshing of the flames “MOM PLEASE” I shout again, my voice cracking this time. Gathering myself I assess the situation, I know we can’t die, we’re Nymph’s, each one of us has different parts that makes us a unique type of nymph. I pick up my tethered dress from the floor searching for anyone who could be here, “Dad? Evan? Mom?” I try again. Realization starts to sink in, as I crumple myself onto the floor as tears wrack through my body. I know my fate, I know we’ll meet again in another life but each time this happens there is always a fear it’ll be my last time having my family with me. Gasping, I emerge from the dirt and gravel that was once my grave. I shake my wings and exhale a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. Shaking the dirt and debris off my wings, I expand my chest to inhale a large breath before sending my signal in search of my family. 

As I wait I can feel the burning hot pit in my lower stomach, aching for a feeding. Looking around I see nothing but trees, for miles. Huffing I began my journey in search of a mate to feed off their energy. Ever since I could remember my mother, a beautiful nymph met and fell in love with my father, a daring incubus. Ever since they first met, as Adam and Eve, they had been inseparable in each life time. Eventually having my brother, Evan, myself Ophelia, and our dearly departed baby sister Angelica. Each life being difficult in its own way, losing Angelica was a different type of pain for everyone. We all knew permanent death was possible for any nymph or demon, we just hadn’t realized how quick it could happen to babies during the French Revolution. 

Landing on the ground, I begin to observe where I am, to memorize this lay out and hope I can fly my way back before my family finds my signal and comes to me. As I walk through the forest, in the dark and cold night, I become overly aware of how naked I am. Searching for anything, I find a shed with a light on inside. Flying up to peek through the window I see a handsome young man, painting a horrifying monster. ‘This could be my feed’ I thought as I landed on the ground ready to take on the appearance of who this man could want to mate with. I straighten my back and throw my long black hair over my shoulder, and lower my horns back into my head to hide my indifference. I began to feign my innocence, as I knock on the door to the shed. “Uh, yeah just a second!” Says the young man, I can hear scrambling and something falling to the ground, as foot steps approach I wrap my arms around my chest and use one of my hands to cover my pubic area. “Hey sorry Principal Weems I’m just finishing t-“ He cuts himself off as he sees me. “Hi, I got lost in the woods, do you think you could help me?” I give a shy smile and tilt my head, hoping he can see his dream person in front of him. “Uh yeah uh, here come in, I’ll get a blanket” he manages to strain out, whipping himself around to grab a black blanket off the old ratty couch he has. Smiling gracefully I wrap myself in the blanket, giving him full view of my body before ‘adjusting’ it to feel more comfortable against my hardened nipples. “Thank you, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve lasted without something to warm me up” I say in a hushed whisper, leaning in towards him with a blush on my face. “Yeah of course, not a problem” he says scratching his head, fixing his half up half down pony tail. “Care to introduce yourself?” I smirk, loosening my grip on the blanket a bit, in hopes he catches more skin. “My name is Xavier Thorpe, I’m a student here at Nevermore Academy, its nice to meet you” Xavier extends his hand with a blush covering his cheeks, he seems nervous as I shake his hand and give him a perfect smile back. As I’m about to introduce myself, I hear my fathers signal through the wind, telling me they are here for me. Xavier looks around confused at the high pitch whistle, but I turn to face the door, “I think I’ll be seeing you again, thank you for the help.. See you later, Xavier.” I whisper to him. “Wait what?” He yells after me but I’ve already gained my wings to fly towards my parents. I smile feeling a light pinch in my stomach and ache in my core as I leave without feeding. I fly as fast as I can, excited to see my parents and brother, and land shortly after my flight began. “Momma! Dad! Where’s Evan?” I proclaim, wrapping them in my arms and squeezing tightly. “Oh honey, he hasn’t hatched again yet. We’re waiting to hear his signal” my mom reassures me, squeezing me back in the hug. I push her back slightly, confused because Evan is usually the fastest to rebirth. 

“Mom what do you mean? We have to keep signalling for him then, he has to find us!” I say, tears threatening to spill over onto my cheeks. 

“Ophelia, relax, not much time has passed since we died last time. I’m sure he’s just being lazy, you know how Ev is!” My dad tries to cheer me up, rubbing my shoulder. “How are you guys already in clothes? We need to find shelter, I need a feed, desperately.” I say to the couple, in hopes they can’t sense my eagerness to mate. “Well honey, we’ve been hatched for a few months now, we’ve settled down in a town not far from here called Jericho, and they have a school for people like us” My mom tells me, smiling at me and playing with the ends of my hair. I nod quietly, and motion for them to show me the way to where I will live out this life. Wrapping the blanket tighter around me, I suddenly feel exposed and confused. What do they mean they’ve been hatched for a few months? And why did it take me so long to come back to them this time? Where is Evan? Thoughts race through my head, as I follow in the steps of my parents. As we reach town, my mom pulls me into a small side hug and smiles down at my small stature. “Honey, here’s our new home, we’ve already decorated a room for you, but we need to have a discussion tomorrow about some new rules your father and I have set.” She says firmly. I nod again, not quite ready to speak as I take in my new surroundings. 

The house is cute, cozy but not small, inviting and warm. I take in the outdoor decorations, and take notice of the trees, that are a variety of orange, yellow, red and brown leaves. The house itself is a black brick house, with white windows and a signature red door. There’s pumpkins on the steps, and little ghosts hanging from some of the trees. My dad unlocks the front door, gesturing me into the heat of the house. My jaw falls as I take in my new home, it’s beyond perfect for our family. The grey walls are the perfect shade of cool neutral, the antiques my mother must have thrifted decorate the area beautifully, a gorgeous wood burning fire place is in the middle of the living room, surrounded by black velvet couches, a coffee table shaped like a coffin, and perfectly preserved bats all over the walls as decor. The perfect amount of spooky and cozy, just like we like it. 

“Mom, could you show me to my room? We will need to go clothes shopping tomorrow!” I smile at her, adjusting the blanket that now feels too warm in the heat of the living room. My mom nods, and motions me to follow her up the black spiral staircase. I take in the paintings as I take my time going up the stairs, admiring the craftsmanship of the artist. When I reach the final step, my mom turns and points to the black door with a sign shaped like a bat on it, stating “Ophelia’s room”. I jump and squeal, excited to see my room and bed, I barge in and turn the light on. Instantly I’m consumed with the comfort of my favourite items. A large black canopy bed in the centre of the room, with black nightstands on either side, and matching black and white lamps. I can’t help myself as I drink in all the details of the room, I see a glass chandelier, a black desk with a type writer, a coffin shaped mirror hanging on my wall beside what appears to be a Jack and Jill bathroom with a room on the opposite side. As I step into my room, I open a door to my right, to see a rather large walk in closet- that is filled to the brink with black, brown and grey clothes, shoes and purses. I turn to my mother with a big smile, “Thank you so much mom, you always know exactly what I love.” I bring her into a hug. “Of Course honey, have a shower, get changed into some comfy clothes and hop into bed, it’s pretty late.” She smiles softly before turning to the door and closing it gently behind her. 

I take the blanket off and toss it to the side, and retrieve a towel, a black tank top and black plaid pj shorts from my closet and head towards the bathroom. Humming a tune, I turn the light on and begin my search for a hairbrush. Once I’ve located my brush, I turn the shower on and wait for it to heat up. Fixing my posture, I take in my new appearance in the mirror. I’m short, with my usual long black straight hair. I have a curvier figure this time around, with more of a tummy than I’m use to. I shake my head, adjust my eyes and relax- allowing my natural form to come out. My hazel eyes darken to almost black, my horns make their appearance and my ears point. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth as I take in its pointed snake appearance, that’s new. Shrugging, I finish brushing my hair, and get into the heat of the shower. As I let the water run over me, my mind begins to become engulfed with the ache that has settled in my core. Ignoring the feeling, I shampoo twice, condition, wash my face and shave, before washing my body and rinsing off. Turning the shower off, I grab my towel and begin a night routine, taking notice of the very expensive skin care products my mother must have researched before purchasing. Once I’ve finished my skin care, and brushing my teeth, I throw my hair into a towel and head into my room to settle in for the night. As I hear what sounds like a television show coming from downstairs, I nod off into a deep sleep, preparing for the next day, and my next feeding.

[seiwas]

"The chatter from the bakery is replaced by the city’s breaths—cars passing, dogs barking, footsteps on pavement rushing to get to their next destination. And you and Nanami stand by the entrance, neither knowing how to say bye

-

Now, he looks at you fondly, shifting his feet from where he’s standing. You search for his face, eyes darting to where you know you’ll find him; he meets your gaze, and you smile brighter, that one look ringing louder than the standing roars of an echoing applause."

You know what they say about finding love, and what is love is all about? That those ones that gives butterflies, makes your heart beats and races? They don't, always seem to last. But rather, love should exist in serenity even when you're in a bustling room.

It was only 7K in words, but I found myself in another world, in a dream I carved because of people like you that writes it down purely passionate. How befitting, an OC that carves art, and written by another writer that captures the beauty of love, and in the end, they all share the same sentiment in what makes art, art. You made us feel, and it's impossible to forget. Thank you, I hope you feel my heart.

oh what a lovely message, thank you so much nonie 🥺 i am so touched by this. thank you for taking the time to pen your favourite bits and for coming into my inbox to share how you feel about it 🥺

i do believe in love manifesting itself in different ways—love in the quiet being one of my favourites 🥺 i'm so glad you enjoyed this fic of mine, and that you were transported to another world while reading it!! i'd never written anything like this so was a bit nervous on how it would read.

i did really enjoy the concept though!! i was hoping that this work would kind of speak to those of us who create, and i'm happy you saw through that!! you are so sweet, thank you so much again for this heartfelt message!! 🥺

[monstrousvoice]

Warm Waters Soothe Insecurities

Fandom: Cult of the Lamb

Relationship: Kudaai X Female OC

AN: “I have requests and a Secret Santa Thing I need to write. These are very important.” I say to myself.

“What if we write about our OC only like, 3 people know about, and a character only those same 3 people care about being soft and in love?” Say my hands.

“Perfect.” I say.

So uh yeah. Here’s my Reindeer OC Selene in a hot spring with Kudaai. (In all seriousness if you liked this please for the love of god tell me. I am so fucking insecure about posting this, I almost quit writing it multiple times and fell into a bad case of self conscious writer’s block because of it.)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Insecurity, First Time ‘I Love You’s, Love Confessions, Casual Nudity, Bathing/Washing, Slight Daddy Kink

Summary: Having a moment to relax with your mate is one of life’s delicacies.

Read it on AO3!

“Once again my little doe, you’re right. I did need this…” Kudaai groaned as he settled into the water of the hot spring. Steam rose all around him in a thick veil, heat seeping through his scales and into the sore muscles and joints of his aching body. 

 He rolled his neck until he heard a satisfying ‘click’ of his vertebrae popping and sagged in relief. The dragon managed to settle comfortably on a stone ledge carved into the pool and rested his burly arms along the cool stone rim.

 Already he felt relief in his ankles and calves, the muscles slowly unknotting all the way up towards his hips and lower back. His thick, scaled tail gave a wag under the surface of the water, sending ripples across the surface of the pool and splashing over the edges.

 “Heehee~ I thought you had learned by now big daddy,” A girlish giggle reached his ears, “I’m always right~” Selene teased as she stepped out from behind a group of smooth boulders. 

 Only a towel covered her furry form from his view, her delicate hands keeping the cloth tight. Her hooves clicked against the stone ground as she walked towards the hot spring with an excited wiggle to her hips.

 “Apparently not.” Kudaai smirked, his teeth peeking from under his lip. “Please tell me that’s all you have on…” He purred, narrowing his golden eyes. The deer sent him a coy look, prancing around the edge of the pool to where he sat.

 “Why sir blacksmith! To imply that a lady would swim in the nude! What kind of doe do you take me for?” She stuck her nose into the air, her snobbish act ruined by one green eye peeking open to look at him as the corner of her lips pulled upwards into a smirk. The dragon felt a feeling in his chest, warm and syrupy as he looked upwards to her - a drastic contrast to the feeling in his lower gut, a heat building there not from the warm water. 

 “The nasty kind.” He growled in response, thick black tongue making an appearance to lick his along his maw in a lewd show just for her. 

 Selene blushed furiously in response, her ears folding back as she looked towards the floor, unable to meet his gaze any longer. It only made his purr grow louder, sounding more like a true bellow as he watched her squirm, her hips wiggling in response to his attention.

 “Hmm, nothing smart to say little mama?” She doesn’t respond at first, only looking at him with big doe eyes and pouting lips he wants to kiss. One of her fingers is idly tracing the pattern in her fur on her thigh.

 “Perhaps action is easier?” He sits up straighter, tilting his muzzle up. He doesn’t have to try very hard - even with him sitting he’s still so tall compared to her. His head easily reaches her chest with him slouching. 

 She takes his invite and steps closer, leaning to press a sweet kiss to his mouth that has that warm, syrupy feeling from before squeezing hard around his heart. She’s so precious when she gets shy…

 Selene pulls away much too quickly from their kiss, but she’s smiling again.

 “You and your teasing…you’re lucky I love it~” Kudaai gives a huff, smoke billowing from his nose.

 “Not my fault you’re so easy to tease~ Get in already you little minx.” 

 He wanted her soft body pressed against him, the curve of her hip fitting perfectly in his claw and against his side as they traded kisses and stories.

 She giggles again and finally lets her towel fall open. As she lays the cloth on a nearby ledge Kudaai has a chance to ogle her curves properly. Her arms wrapped tight around her middle in a hug as she shivered from the cool night air, her breasts being pushed together in a tantalizing display that had to be on purpose.

 "Ooh-so warm!" The reindeer gave a meek shiver as she placed a hoof into the steaming water, humming in delight at the heat racing up her leg. The rest of her followed quickly, small waves rippling across the water’s surface at her movements as she glided towards Kudaai’s side. Her hands came into contact with his chest, fingers roaming across the broad expanse of muscle and fat layered under his black and gold scales.

 He could feel her legs pull up and curl in place next to his own thighs, her knees pressing against him but not uncomfortably. She nestled herself into his side from there, her own shoulder resting against his ribs as her hands traced idle patterns into his scales. The dry fur of her neck and face was already losing volume and flattening from the steam surrounding them.

 He brought his arm down from the stone lip of the pool to wrap around her under the water. His hand covered the expanse of her hip as he held her impossibly closer to his side. His thumb rubbed small circles where it layed, the temptation to squeeze her ass, just a little, was too strong to ignore. Not that she minded.

 “Thank you for bringing me here daddy~ It’s so nice…” Selene cooed despite her cheek being squished against his pectoral muscle she was so intent on smothering herself on. She looked so small and cute, he felt like such a brute compared to her…

 What did she even see in him, really? He was big and intimidating, covered in scars and old wounds - some of them by his own mistakes and not enemies. What did he have to offer someone like her? 

 With a start he realized she had spoken to him.

 “O-of course little mama. Like I said, you were right. I needed this more than I realized…” The blacksmith let out a sigh, trying to push those thoughts away. It didn’t matter why she was with him, only that she was and that he wanted to enjoy every moment with her before she came to her senses and left him.

 His mind cleared as his eyes slipped closed. Peace, or something like it he supposed, making him feel calm and relaxed. It was all because of the doe nestled into his side right now. She was so…

 He isn’t a poet. He’s never been good with words, not like his younger brother. Coming up with ways to describe his sweet Selene was a feat he would never overcome. Truly, he didn’t care to. He just wanted her to stay with him for a little while longer…

 His hand wrapped around her hip gives another squeeze to the soft flesh, and she gives a meek mewl of surprise at the feeling. She doesn’t move away, to his relief. One of her own hands leaves his chest to slip under the water, ghosting over his. Her fingers thread through his open ones to hold the back of his hand in a gentle embrace as he keeps idly rubbing and massaging the area.

 Selene suddenly pulls her head away from his chest, only to turn and press her lips against the heated scales she was resting against. Kudaai can’t fight the smile quirking the corner of his mouth, despite the years of self restraint that have taught him not to show such emotion.

 In this place, he thinks…maybe it’s okay. To let his guard down a little…

 Selene is looking up at him now, big green eyes looking so earnest and loving it chokes him, his heart beating hard and fast as he tries to calm it. 

 “You feel better then? The heat is helping?” She asks, voice soft and soothing. Does she even know? Does she know how much power she holds over him? By The One Below she could kill him with a smile like that. He would die happy, he would brag to the Lord Below that he died to the most beautiful sight ever - this smile. 

 “Hn-...yes. Yes I feel much better than this morning sweet girl.” He manages to purr in response.  She looks delighted at his words, ears perking and eyes lighting up like it’s the best news he could have ever told her.

 “G-good! That’s very good~ I could even…I could give your shoulders a massage too, if you’d like?” The dragon has to bite his tongue hard to not openly groan in bliss at her words. He just barely catches himself.

 “...An adorable, sexy doe sitting with her thighs near my head, rubbing her soft hands on me?” She blushes furiously at his words but doesn’t retract her offer. “How can I say no to such a thing? I must be damn dreaming…” She giggles into her hand even as she starts to sit up properly. He is disappointed when he realizes that this means he cant hold her cute tush anymore, but figures a massage is a fair trade off.

 Both his burly arms settle at his sides in the water, one of them being offered to his beloved so she can lift herself out of the spring and onto the stone rim. She presses another kiss to his scales, this time to his already warm cheek.

 “Thank you~” she whispers, like it’s a secret between them to share and keep. His heart can’t take this, he can feel it squeezing tighter in his chest at everything she does…

 With some shifting Selene makes herself comfortable behind him, her legs wrapping around his upper back and allowing her closer access to him without her knees knocking against the blades embedded in his spine. She brought her hands onto the broad expanse of his shoulders, fingers dancing along his scales in a way Kudaai would almost describe as awed. He heard her give a soft hum before another soft kiss was pressing against an old scar that had healed over the blade still lodged there.

 He was always nervous when she saw his back, seeing the barely healed gore that remained from literal centuries of fighting to protect what's his. Kudaai knows it's ugly, knows it's unlovable. And yet Selene always seemed so…happy when he let her see. Like his trust in her actually made her feel good. He couldn’t understand why, he wasn’t worth much outside of his forge craft…

 It was when Selene started to apply pressure to his aching muscles that she started to quietly ramble to him. His eyes slipped closed once more as her soothing voice washed over his troubled mind.

 “I really do love your body Kudaai…So big and strong, always so warm…You make me feel so safe and loved despite the lands we live in.” The dragon couldn’t help the way his body further relaxed into her hold, his head falling back to rest comfortably against her plush chest and tummy. Her fur was wet and slightly chilled now that she was out of the water, but she didn’t seem to mind the cold. He figured it had to do with her upbringing from the North.

 “I love your chest and tummy too~ Laying across you, or you laying on top of me, it just-it makes me feel…good in a way I can’t explain…” She trailed off as her hands made their way to the front of his body. Her fingers rubbing soothing circles into the meaty muscle of his pectorals, her arms circling around his neck. He angled his head to bump his muzzle against hers, his golden eyes staring intensely into her own green ones.

 “You know my heart belongs to you, sweet girl. No need for empty flattery.”

 The doe gasped in response, looking back at him with wide - dare he say, hurt - eyes. 

 “It’s not empty flattery! I mean every word I say.” Her brow furrowed. “I wish you wouldn’t do that, Kudaai.”

 He stayed silent. His gaze left hers to stare at the distant tree line.

 “...Kudaai? Why do you always…?” Selene trailed off. Her hands stopped the soothing rub along his muscles to instead trace patterns along the scales. She always fidgets when nervous, and it’s his fault this time…

 Sometimes he wishes he had the knack for talking to others the way Claunek could. His younger brother had always been the more sociable of them both. 

 “Forgive me love. I’m…I’m not good at…-you know how words are for me-” He lifted a clawed hand into the air, open as if he could pluck the words he needed out the steam surrounding them. 

 “Shh…take your time big daddy. I’m not going anywhere.” She cooed in response, pressing more kisses to the side of his face and muzzle. He could tell his teeth were in the way of her lips, but she didn’t seem to care. She just kept pressing kisses along his maw, overbite croc teeth or no.

 Instead of letting his hand drop he moved it towards her own face, cupping her cheek and rubbing the soft fur there. It was a silent thanks as he gathered his own thoughts, his claws even moving up towards the base of her large floppy ears and rubbing. The content sigh he pulled from her let him know he was touching the right spot.

 Eventually, he sighs.

 “I…I want to be honest with you about my thoughts. It’s just…hard to find the right words. I much prefer when you do the talking.” He tried teasing her about her chatty nature and got an amused huff and a smile in return. 

 “...For so long I didn’t think I would ever…find a mate. I even…” He grunts, feeling more self-conscious than ever by admitting this. “I even asked my brother before we met if he saw anything…” Selene didn’t laugh to his relief. Her hands just continued dancing across his scales.

 “And you…you looked so beautiful when we first met, so put together and on top of your work. And when I approached you looked so…so frightened. You couldn’t even speak to me properly…” 

 Her hands stopped.

 “I don’t know what I did to change your view of me, but I hope with every fiber of myself that I can keep it up. That you’ll see me as your mate and not the…the big ugly brute I am…” Kudaai squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth. He hated this, this feeling of vulnerability and bareness. She could break him into splinters right now without even speaking.

 He spent so many centuries keeping to himself, doing what he needed to do for Claunek to grow up happy and content. Every one of instincts was screaming at him for going against his hard learned habits.

 “Oh Kudaai…” Selene whispered, her soft lips pressing to his temple as she spoke. “Kudaai I was never frightened of you. Never. From the moment we met I was…I was so in awe that a-that such a beautiful person would even look my way.”

 The dragon’s eyes slid back open slowly, staring at nothing in the distance. A feeling he couldn’t name, one that made his chest feel tight and his eyes sting was building up inside him.

 “I was nervous when we met, yes. But not because you’re terrifying. Not to me. I saw someone so…so protective. A perfect provider and defender who made me feel breathless with just a look.”

 “You-” His deep voice cracked, his throat feeling dry. “You think I’m…I’m beautiful? With…with my size? My stomach, my scars, my teeth!?” The doe snorted where she was still pressed against his cheek.

 “Stars Kudaai, yes. I was smitten with you from the very start. I love those things about you! Its-it’s so embarrassing to admit but when you actually talked to me I got so h-hot and bothered.” She buried her face against his and squeezed, preventing him from being able to loom at her face. His neck still snapped in her direction, his jaw falling open at her words.

 “Wh-what?” Her voice came out muffled.

 “Y-yeah. I-...By The One Below I wanted you to bend me over and fuck me right then and there. I wanted to marry you Kudaai. I knew it right then.” 

 He couldn’t believe what she was saying. There was no way any of this could be true. Selene is so beautiful and kind, thoughtful and smart and stubborn and shy and-and perfect-

 She really thought the same of him?

 “S-Selene, please-” He needed to see her, to see her eyes-

 The reindeer understood. She always understood. Her arms loosened their hold around his thick neck as she pulled back from him. He moved further into the water and turned to look at her properly. Her hooves dangled in the water as her hands fiddled nervously with the thick fur lining her neck and chest. Her green eyes met his own with a sincerity that made his heart ache.

 “I love you, Kudaai.” She whispered. 

 “...I love you too Selene.” He kneeled on the ledge he had previously been sitting on, bringing his heavy arms around her much smaller frame and enveloping her into his hold. She nuzzled right up against him, face pressed against his heartbeat, the one she owned.

 He buried his own muzzle against the top of her head, breathing in her sweet scent.

 She loved him.

 Loved.

 Him.

 That was the first time they had ever said such words to each other. This was real. What they had together. He wanted to kiss her.

 He pulled away to do just that, pressing his muzzle against hers in a kiss that had their teeth clacking against eachother’s, the desperate need to be closer driving them.

 They parted for breath and pressed their foreheads together, breathing each other in. Kudaai felt one of her hands against his cheek, her thumb gently swiping against the black scales under his eye. He felt warm water smear and pulled back in confusion.

 Selene was smiling at him in the most gentle way, like he was an animal that would skitter away at the slightest movement. He brought his own hand up and wiped at his other eye, feeling more wetness on his cheek.

 He wasn’t sure when he had started crying.

 “It’s okay baby. It’s okay.” She whispered. “I love you.” 

 The dragon heaved a deep breath and let it out slow, blinking hard as pulled her close again. It was okay. Selene was here, she wouldn’t-...She could be trusted with this. 

 He moved his hands down her waist and grabbed handfuls of her, lifting her from the stone and bringing her into his own lap. She didn’t protest, only giving an adorable squeak at the movement. He settled back onto the ledge himself, holding her to his chest for more snuggles in the steaming water surrounding them.

 Eventually they would have to get out. They would both be hungry for dinner.

 For now…He just wanted to hold her and be held in return.

[lubdubsworld]

Madeira.  ( Taehyung x OC) Part 1/2

Genre : Angst, Sexually Explicit Content. 

Kim Taehyung x OC 

 Cop Au! 

Married Taehyung x Oc! ( Estranged ) 

Cop Taehyung! Bartender Oc ! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N : This is my spin on the brother’s best friend trope. I wrote this for @ladyartemesia​ Who made the amazing banner for the fic..

Because of one of her posts :D :D But I hope all of you enjoy it. 

Also listen , i was supposed to write a simple brother’s best friend fic , maybe playful fluff and mild angst and some smut but  this thing snowballed into a plot monster and now here we are. 

This is part 1. 

Part 2 soon :) 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So... that husband of yours is still missing, huh?" The man leaning against the bar smelled like sewage. 

There really was no other word for it. 

He smelled like he’d been drenched in the water that usually ran down the streets, whenever the heavens opened and poured a fucking deluge on us. Like he’d taken a soak in the disgusting broth of decaying produce, discarded animal entrails and everyday garbage. You know, the kind of stuff you find in the market street of a small town.

I ignored him, exhaling sharply and dragging the rag across the counter again, this time with a little more force behind it to make up for the urge to wrap my hands around the fucker’s neck. 

Not the man leaning on the bar that is.  

The man who had abandoned me. 

Kim fucking Taehyung. 

My breath shuddered out of me ,  a headache blooming inside my skull at the very thought of him. it was kind of unwarranted, I guess because it really wasn’t perfect Kim Taehyung’s fault that his wife of five years and seven months hadn’t seen him in ...well, five years and six months. 

Fuck. 

But see he wasn’t missing from my life by design. 

He certainly hadn’t intended to leave me alone because , well for one, he loved me. and two, his best friend aka my big brother Park Jimin would skin him alive if he tried something like that. 

They were best friends, bosom buddies since kinder garten and the only time they’d ever fought was when Jimin had walked in on me choking on Kim Taehyung’s dick in our coat closet at the age of seventeen ( 19 in Taehyung’s case) . 

Taehyung had sported a black eye for two whole weeks. 

So you see, Taehyung wouldn’t just leave me without reason, not unless he wanted to be castrated by my brother. 

No. 

The reason Kim Taehyung wasn’t around was because he had taken up an assignment, an undercover assignment a month after our wedding. 

An assignment that was supposed to last two months. Except it hadn’t and now, it had been a whole five and a half years since I’d seen the man I loved. 

Kim fucking Taehyung. 

See, Taehyung was a detective. 

A brilliant, A- class detective in Seoul PD’s Narcotics Division and he had a reputation. 

 A reputation as one of the most ruthless, merciless men on the force. 

Taehyung had a mind that worked like no other, somehow able to predict exactly how drug dealers moved, how the shipments were going to be smuggled. He could tell where the deal was going to go down, what kind of security measures they would be up against and the most intriguing of all :  just what drug a person had taken, simply from staring into their damn eyes .

 It wasn’t uncommon for his cop buddies to comment how lucky the country was, that Kim Taehyung had chosen to be on this side of the law . 

So Kim Taehyung’s reputation as a brilliant detective was well earned and that was why,  when people heard his reputation and  then  met him, they were always stunned. 

Because, for someone with such a terrifying aura , Taehyung looked deceptively.....well ethereal was the word. Beautiful was another. So fucking gorgeous  he could make angels cry. 

But Taehyung didn’t just look like a fucking angel. He acted like one. He acted like he had been sent on earth, simply to fight every bad guy in the city and while I had been proud and amazed and suitably enthralled with his prowess in the beginning, the fact that he had chosen to just leave me , really fucking hurt. 

It hurt that the boy i had grown up with , the boy who had been my first everything hadn’t thought twice about leaving me behind. About leaving everything we had spent a whole decade building , behind just because he couldn’t control the urge to save the fucking world.

Every damn time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The water in my parents’ home was often murky and I had to let it run for a few minutes, before sticking the bucket underneath the tap. I watched the water turn clearer, cupping my palms underneath the flow watching it run clear. I nudged the bucket with my foot , under the tap and the sound of the water hitting the cheap plastic filled the cramped bathroom, loud and jarring. 

I leaned against the chipped blue tiles, fingers shaking as I clenched them into fists. I had moved year about nine months after Taehyung had left, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon and it became hard, paying the rent for our modest apartment in Itaewon. 

Jimin had offered to help, offered to let me move in with him and his wife Irene,  but he had been newly married as well, with a baby on the way. And i just couldn’t do that to him. I’d called my parents, explained that Taehyung and I were taking a break and could I move in for a while?

My parents had been stunned. 

A break after ten months of marriage? what had happened? 

I’d kept my mouth shut because everything was a security risk. I couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t cry or complain or seek comfort in my mother’s gentle words. Instead i’d spent the days, locked up in my childhood bedroom, pouring over my journals, my keepsakes and photos, reliving the years I’d spent, loving and learning and cherishing Taehyung. 

First kiss in his garage at the age of fifteen  , laughing over a failed skateboard trick. How he’d grinned at me, watching me whine over the scrape on my knee, how he’d stared up at me through the sweat damp bangs on his forehead as he’d knelt on the floor, sticking a bandaid over the scrape and then instead of moving away as usual, he mad moved  in,  brushed his lips against mine, stole the breath out of my lung , the soul out of my body . 

And Those first two years of denial....when he would practically run out of the door if i so much as breathed in his direction. 

“You’re Jimin’s sister.. I can’t...” 

God often he’d said that...over and over again until the words lost all meaning for me. I had wanted him so blindly. Had fought any girl who so much as looked at him and every one of my girlfriends  knew to stay clear off Kim Taehyung. 

The whispers, anytime someone showed an interest on the most handsome boy in school. 

Yes, he is gorgeous, yes he is smart and amazing but he belongs to  her.  She’ll kill you if you come near him. 

I’d enjoyed it. I enjoyed knowing that everyone could see that he belonged with me, even if Taehyung himself didn’t . 

And me at seventeen, watching him talk about leaving .... How he was going to join the police academy and become a cop and that had been the final straw. I’d all but barrelled into his home and kissed him. 

Told him in no uncertain terms that he was not going anywhere without telling me he loved me. And if he didn’t , I wanted him to swear he would never regret it. That when , years from now, he saw me walking down the aisle with some other guy, he would stand in the wedding party, next to my actual brother and not regret that he let me go. 

Taehyung had kissed me back with fervor that still made my lips tingle. 

And that last week before he left, when we had spent all our waking hours, either having sex or thinking about having sex. How we’d christened every surface of our parents’  house , our rooms and finally the coat closet after one particularly tense game of truth and dare. 

That was a memorable one because my brother had walked in, just as Taehyung had gripped my hair hard enough to bruise and shoved his ‘ big by any standards’ dick straight down my throat. 

Talk about embarrassing. 

And it had taken a whole lot of begging and cajoling and promises to not have sex till we were married, for my brother to come around.

But he had. 

And for five glorious years, I had been Kim Taehyung’s girlfriend. Watched him climb the ranks at seoul PD with a speed that was amazing. Watching him become the youngest detective on the force... watched him carve a reputation for himself in the Narcotic department.

And one evening, having dinner in a posh restaurant with our family and friends, I had watched him get down on his knees , a small velvet box in his hand  eyes practically sparkling with love as he stared at me. 

“The only one you’re walking down the aisle with is me, sweetheart.” He had rasped, over the raucous cheering of all the most important people in our lives. 

But the joy had been short lived. 

Just a month after our wedding Taehyung had taken up the assignment. Just two months, he had promised. I’ll be back in two months baby. I love you so damn much, you know that....

I had said it was okay. it wasn’t but i had said. Had promised to wait for him. To keep myself safe. 

Two months had turned to two years. Two years had turned to three. Three to four and four to five. 

Lonely. I was so lonely. 

Even living with my parents, the solitude had been unbearable. The ache from not being touched by him . The ache from not being able to touch him. From not having that boxy smile to greet me in the morning. Not running my fingers through his hair as he left hickeys all over me. Not having him over me, staring down at me,  eyes heavy and hard as he fucked into me.

I missed him so fiercely it was a physical ache. An intense , hollow ache filled with anxiety and longing. 

And terror.

Oh god I was so terrified. 

The fear was all encompassing somedays and I had to bite down on my pillows just to stop myself from giving in to hysteria. To start sobbing, uncontrollably because the thought would come out of nowhere, bowling me over in it’s intensity. 

The burning fear that perhaps he was hurt. 

That perhaps he was no longer of this world and i would never even know. That perhaps right this moment he was lying in some abandoned warehouse, bleeding out , thinking of me, wishing he could see me and he was just going to die alone . And I would never know. 

I spoke to Jimin on the phone to Jimin every weekend. But sometimes, once every three or four weeks, Jimin called in the day. 

We would exchange small talk. 

And then he would say, 

“Had a glass of madeira last night.”  “ spoke to Taehyung’s handler last night. 

I would grip the phone hard, brace myself for the good , the bad or the ugly that was to come. 

“Tasted great. Was thinking of you.”  He’s fine. He misses you. He loves you. 

“Okay. Thank you Jimin.” 

And that was that. 

The sound of the water spilling over drew me to the present and i blinked, staring down at the water flooding the bathroom, the drainhole struggling to get rid of the excess water. 

The house was deserted. 

My parents had died a year ago. And now it was just me. 

I swallowed , shaking my head before grabbing the hem of my dress and stripping. 

Shower.

And then bed. 

Alone. 

Always so fucking alone. 

The phone rang then and i groaned. 

God, I hated having to leave the shower to attend calls but the reception here was terrible and I could only get calls if I left the phone on the small table by the bed. 

Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my torso, I stumbled out into the dimply lit bedroom, reaching for my phone. 

I couldn’t recognize the number and I frowned, before accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“Yerin?” 

Every hair on my body stood on end and my body curned hot and then went icy cold really really fast. 

“T-T-Tae??” I whispered, gripping the phone so hard my fingers went number. 

Five years later and his voice was so different. Deep and raspy and exhausted and I couldn’t make sense of it. Was this real? Was i having a fever dream? Had i fell in the shower and hit my head? 

“Hey baby.” He chuckled. 

“Is this real? Is it you?” I whispered, confused and my head spinning and my vision fading a little. 

“Yeah. “ He coughed a bit and i panicked. “ I’m back. “

I froze. 

“Wh-What?”

“I’m back. I’m home. I’m .... I’m back.” 

I stared at the wall, too stunned to process what I was hearing. 

I could hear his voice through the phone but I couldn’t respond. 

Staring at the screen , I hung up. 

And then, I finally gave in to the hysterics. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[awkwardkindatries]

Hello dear! Could I please get a Matchup for Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit? I LOVE your blog theme btw, your icon and header are so pretty! Here's my description:

🪴 Autistic girl with an excitable but soft personality. I use She/Her pronouns and am legally an adult

🪴 I'm often in some sort of caretaker or comforter role, so I've developed a habit of calling people "honey". I've called my own parents that by accident lol

🪴 I give really good advice, but can be pretty stubborn myself. I've been called wise beyond my years a lot, haha. But, I can forget to care for myself too

🪴 My love language is very much physical touch, but not in a grand pda way. Rubbing someone's back, holding hands and hugs are much more comfortable for me

🪴 I love taking care of people but I can have a bit of a temper. I never even yell, but I do get very huffy and sassy 

🪴 Really short, only like 4' 11", with long brown hair and glasses. I usually put my hair up in a bun. To give you an idea of my fashion sense, I'm currently wearing a lavender flannel and overalls. I usually wear like 4 different layers of clothes every day lmao 

🪴 I work at a greenhouse and can't stand being away from nature for too long. I need outside time every day

🪴 I have a lot of knowledge about almost everything, to the point where even I don't know how I know so much

🪴 I know a fair amount of German, it's one of my favorite languages. I'm a big linguistics nerd

🪴 I prefer small gestures of love, since big actions and personalities embarrass me 

🪴 I'm very easily moved by things I find beautiful. I've almost cried watching a whole crowd sing the Pokemon theme song somehow 

🪴 I mainly write and draw, but I'm also really into carving things from wood to shells to stones

🪴 The purpose of my writing and life is to provide comfort. I just want to make people feel good. The world is cruel, so I won't be. 

🪴 I'm also a witch, I work with both Apollo and Cernunnos. Fun fact, the first spell I ever did was a healing spell for a hospitalized friend! 

🪴 I LOVE food!! I'm a firm believer that I truly good meal is all you need sometimes. I love baking

Sorry if that's way too long, as you can probably tell I also like talking, haha! Thanks so much hun, I hope you're doing well! Best wishes! ♥️

Hey there, of course you can! Also, thankyou! my Icon was a commission that I paid an artist to do of my LOTR OC (If you're interested in the artist ill definitely link her), as for my theme i wanted to put out a warmer vibe so i'm glad it's working.

Now onto your Match-up!

I just have this overwhelming feeling that you'd be perfect for Meludir. You're so soft and kind and motherly that he naturally gravitates to your energy and what a coincidence, his love language is also physical touch! He's a very touchy feely ellon and loves to be touching you in some way whether it's his finger holding onto your overall strap while you walk, braiding your hair, giving you hugs, ect. He'd love to take you on long walks to all of the special places that he's explored near his home, in part to give you inspiration but also just to hold your hand a smidge longer.

He would love that you draw and write but i think his biggest amount of appreciation would come from your wood carvings. There is so much wood around him in his home lands that he would love to spend time doing that practicing together. Bonus points if you exchange carvings from your homes, he'd treasure it always.

[leonameowzz]

Happy Birthday OC!MC 🎉🎊🎂🎁

Since it’s my birthday, I had to do a HC of what the TW boys would give my OC as a birthday present & how they feel about them. FYI, some parts are more specific towards my OC as I wanted this to be more personalized to myself. This is gonna be a long one but please enjoy~

Crowley held a dorm leader meeting to discuss how to handle her birthday, even Malleus was present for once without having to be reminded.

The dorm leaders were surprisingly eager to participate: Riddle wanted a birthday party at Heartslabyul, Kalim wanted an entire parade at Scarabia and Azul was actually willing to close Mostro Lounge temporarily.

In the end, Crowley opted to have the celebration at Ramshackle Dorm so as not to pick favourites.

On the faithful day, the first-year squad was tasked with distracting her while their seniors would decorate the venue, even the Ramshackle ghosts chipped in to help.

Riddle gives her a bouquet of roses, freshly grown from the bushes in the dorm. He thanks them for always looking after his dorm members (aka the chaotic duo). He even allows them the first strike during the next croquet match.

Ace puts on a magic show during the party, he even learnt some new card tricks just for her! He even bought an extra card deck for them so they could practice together.

Deuce shyly hands her a plush chicken keychain since the whole chicken fiasco was a fond memory for him. He finds them to be a good influence on him if he is to be a future honor student.  

Trey baked her favourite strawberry shortcake as well as the other desserts at their party. He also thanked them for taking care of his juniors but he’s grateful they were friends with Riddle too.

Cater takes lots and lots and lots of selfies with her, captioned #ramshackledormparty. He also slips her a rose gold liquid glitter smartphone cover as a gift. Don’t worry, it’s the latest, trendiest design to make up for that shopping date he promised.

Leona nonchalantly passes her a jewelry box which they open to reveal a fanged necklace similar to the one he wears. He pats their head, wishing them happy birthday before leaving to nap somewhere quiet.

Ruggie was not able to afford anything too fancy, but he did share some of his favourite donuts with her. He was glad that he could depend on them when handling Leona’s demands.

Jack gives her a mini cactus/succulent garden he grew and arranged himself since he knew they loved tending to the plants in the greenhouse. “It’s not like I made this specially for you! I just had some spare plants leftover and didn’t want them to go to waste!” He would quickly reason.

Azul offers her a deal a discount at Mostro Lounge. What, that’s it? Just kidding, he hands them several test notebooks to help with studies, though he instructs them not to share with anyone else. Only her gets them free-of-charge~

Floyd had planned to squeeze his Shrimpy as a birthday gift but was stopped by Azul & Jade. In the end, he managed to find an extremely rare rainbow seashell while exploring Coral Sea, so that’s what he’s giving her. Azul probably wanted to sell that for 💰💰 but too late now.

Jade presented her with some mushrooms & herbs he gathered during his daily mountain trek as well as some recipes to cook them. Floyd gives a disgusted look behind his back though his brother chooses to ignore it. 

Kalim knows where to obtain all sorts of animals for his parades and actually procures a light brown eagle owl for her. He knew how much they adored said animal so here they go! Wait... Kalim, you can’t just give someone an actual pet so suddenly?!?!

Jamil got her a pair of sport shoes since they both love dancing. They’re the same brand he uses so they’re super comfortable. The two of them may have started off on the wrong foot, but turns out they share many interests. Plus, he’s glad she’s there to help him with Kalim’s antics.

Vil straight up hands her an entire box of cosmetics from his skincare line (it’s even in limited edition packaging), stating how important it is for his little potato to maintain healthy skin especially since they live in less-than-desirable conditions at Ramshackle.  

Rook gifts her a bird whistle. Since her new pet owl is a bird of prey perhaps she could train it to hunt small critters? It would also be yet another thing of beauty for him to take pictures of.

Epel created an entire apple carving centerpiece for the dining table, even Vil was impressed. There were all sorts of shapes, ranging from swans to butterflies, it was definitely Magicam worthy.

Idia made a custom game controller with her initials engraved on them. She regularly joins them for gaming nights during the weekend after all. He had not intended to come to the birthday party but Ortho basically forced him to attend for his sake.  

The young robot had also grown close to her and the other first years. He was very grateful to her for taking the initiative to befriend Idia despite his reclusive nature.

Malleus was glad to be included in something for once. He had a soft spot for this particular Child of Man who had approached him so bravely and eventually befriended him. His gift to her is a gargoyle paperweight, it’s functional and makes a great table decoration.

Lilia had planned to cook for the party but Silver immediately suggested giving MC a musical instrument instead since both of them were in the light music club. After rummaging around his room, Lilia settled on giving her an ocarina, which reminded him of a certain game protagonist clad in green clothes.  

Silver enjoyed fencing and he had practiced with her several times to know she was capable of wielding a weapon, thus he presented her with a silver small sword. Besides, having the extra bit of protection in school wouldn’t hurt.

Sebek handed her a book shouting “NINGEN, YOU’RE OK I GUESS, SO TAKE THIS!” It was an extra copy of one of his favourite books about a powerful swordsman who bravely protected his master while travelling alongside him.

*Bonus*

Grim’s present is a striped hair bow that matches his collar. “The great Grim-sama is capable of showing gratitude even if I’m a monster”, he proudly declares.

Also Ace decided to throw a pie at her face which escalated into the other first years joining in, followed by Floyd, Lilia and Kalim. 

Jade, Jamil and Silver attempted to stop them, Cater was filming the entire thing while Ruggie used the distraction to horde as much food as possible.

At the end of the day, the troublemakers were punished by having to clean up after the party.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

The Servant and The Prince | Three

Part Three lovelies; do enjoy! I quite liked writing this part.

Description: This is very much a Cinderella trope because I cannot help myself and I am in love with Loki, chapter three

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader, third person as I may adapt eventually with an OC

Warnings: Intimacy but not graphic, anger (is that a warning? I feel like it shouldn’t have to be said when it is a Loki fic, the man is canonically angry)

Tags: Fluff, not really angst but suspense

Word count: 4.4k

Disclaimer: I do not speak old Norse Lmfaoo this is purely the basics that I gathered and it 110% is grammatically incorrect so do not come at me for that I am admitting it

Previous | Next

Master List

“Please Surtr.”

Her voice rings through his ears on a loop, the most beautiful and agonizing melody that he has surely ever heard. She must be magic— something strong and powerful and like nothing he has ever seen before. There is no other explanation. It had been magic when she appeared to him, literally falling into his lap as if out of thin air. He is the god of tricks but even he cannot do that— he cannot make women that smell like flower petals land in his arms at will. He wishes he could— more than anything he wishes he could pluck her out of his dreams and bring her back to him. But he cannot because that was not a trick. That was something else entirely.

One moment he had been alone, mulling over his mother’s words from a few days prior. I think you might have a soulmate, my dear. He had been thinking about the information he had been scouring the castle’s libraries for about such a thing— information he was begging Frigga to tell him. Of course, in true Frigga nature she would not tell him. His mother is the most stubborn woman in the realm. Wonderful but stubborn. Only he could have an all-knowing mother who refused to share any of that knowledge. She told him it was dangerous to know the future— that it must happen as it will. What nonsense. How is he supposed to find her if he knows nothing about her?

The books were of little use to him as well. The information in them was outdated and flimsy at best. They consisted mainly of a couple second person accounts and scroll that he could translate if he was given a few days. Unfortunately time is of the essence and he does not have a few days. He barely has one day. One day to find his person or to give her up. And he thought he was the cruellest god. Apparently not. Anyway, that was where he was when she fell into his lap- mulling over a page of runes that looked more like gibberish than anything he had ever seen.

One moment he had been sitting at his desk, pretending like the sunshine on his hand was a product of any sky other than Asgard’s. The next moment he was being straddled by a misty figure that smelled like an afternoon in the castle gardens. He could not see a single detail about her— not her hair or her eyes or anything else— but he could feel her. She was warm and soft, her thighs heavenly around him. She was his own, little slice of Valhalla— a perfect fit. Frigga was right; all it took was a few seconds in her presence and he knew. She was his soulmate.

A soulmate who seemed like she was out to make him crazy for her, no less. Sure he could not see her but it was not hard to tell that her thighs around him were bare, squeezing him against her smooth skin with reckless abandon. It would have taken significantly less for him to go mad for her— honestly it would have taken nothing at all— but, Odin, if that was what she was going for then she definitely succeeded. He can still feel her warmth pressed against him, the way she had sunken down onto him immediately. She knew too. How much she knew he cannot say but she had to have known something- felt something— by the way she melted perfectly into him. She was his from the moment she appeared and she seemed to know it— embrace it. She acted like he was hers too and it was by far the sexiest thing he had ever experienced in all of his thousand years. That is surely saying something.

Obviously he did not just simply give in to her flowery aroma and Valhalla thighs- he had tried to speak to her. Many times actually. She just could not hear him. Of course it took him many times to realize that. He probably asked for her name and where she came from about a hundred times before she finally rocked her hips against his and tapped her lips with two wispy fingers. Be quiet you idiot, I cannot hear you. That is what he imagined she had said. It is what he would have said to himself if he were in her position.

He was floored, to say the least. He has never been floored before- not like that at least. Not in a good way. He stopped wondering where she came from after that. It no longer mattered from where on Asgard she had appeared, only how to ensure that she did not leave him again. He had been looking for her- scouring useless books and a stubborn mother- and then there she was, right before him, and he was determined to hold onto her.

Still, he had not leaned immediately into her touch. She had not made it easy on him, her gentle fingers reaching up to cup his face, scratching through the days worth of hair on his jaw. That was impossible to resist, he simply had to press his lips against her palm. The rest, though, made him go still, evaluating the situation. He had no clue what she actually wanted- how much she actually understood. He had grabbed her hips in reflex- a defense mechanism- she had appeared out of literal thin air after all. He had gone to move his hand almost immediately after grabbing her- well, once the shock had worn off. She was quite warm, though. Distractingly so. It takes a few seconds to push through that kind of daze. That was where things got interesting.

She had begun sliding off him. Maybe she had been in that same sweet daze too because, from what little of her he could see through the misty white haze, she appeared to be lost in her own little world. Her bottom lip was pushed out- colourless but plump- her soft body slowly shifting. There is no way she had noticed; she had made no move to catch herself.

So he did.

He is not really in the game of letting women fall into heaps on his bedroom floor, let alone one that makes his heart beat the way that she does. It was a simple action- all he did was anchor his arm more steadily around her body- but in doing so he unleashed a chain of reactions that, even now, he cannot fully comprehend. It is honestly quite mind boggling how everything played out. If Frigga had woken him up that morning and told him that his soulmate would jump into his lap later that day and then proceed to tease him for an entire hour, he would have laughed. No, he would have rolled over and gone back to sleep. The point is he would not have believed her. Frigga, his oracle mother. Maybe that is why she did not tell him.

So there she was, falling, and there he was, catching her, and somewhere in that small chain reaction he had pulled her higher onto his lap- again, to keep her from falling off him completely- and that is when her eyes flashed the brightest silver he has ever seen. It was only for a few seconds but it was there; he saw it! It had made him freeze. Not many things make him freeze. He is a god. But there he was, frozen on that stupid wooden chair with what he can only assume was the most idiotic expression any man has ever held. It had to be magic- there is no other explanation for the way his ability to breathe completely vanished. It was like her eyes mattered more than air itself.

Meanwhile she was moving her hips again and then her hands were digging into his shoulders. It was blissful- no that is not strong enough. Trekking through the woods alone is blissful; she was something else entirely. Of course he was still frozen- a damn statue- as his little soulmate squeezed those Valhalla thighs around him harder and sunk down onto him- right in that exact spot that made him wonder for a second if she was sent to him as a test of willpower.

But no, there is no way that was the case; not with the way her silver eyes sparked again and rolled back into her head like it was the first time she had ever felt something like that. Not with the way her misty lips had parted, some of the luscious color finally peeking through, releasing a sound that he would have gladly fought every other god in the realm to be able to hear. He could not help but reach out in that moment and touch her face. He had to make sure she was real. Yes, she was on his lap but that was not enough. He had to know for sure. As soon as his fingers had met her soft skin it was game over. She was real and she was there.

His hand hooked around the back of her neck easily, as though her head was meant to be held by him- the same way her thighs engulfed him perfectly. He nudged her gently- for a moment she had gone still. Asleep maybe. He wanted to see her eyes again though. He had not been disappointed when her eyelids opened to reveal a lightning storm of molten silver swirling in her irises. Forget Valhalla thighs; every part of her was carved from the stuff of the heavens. Still he glanced down to look at them, his eyes dancing over where her misty dress had ridden up to reveal two perfectly smooth legs. Magic, he had thought to himself again. Definitely magic.

He needed more.

He had to make her eyes spark even more. He had pulled her higher- closer- his hand squeezing her hip, pushing her into him harder. It worked. But not only did it work, it made something more happen. It made her speak. It made him hear her. Sort of. Not fully, her voice was muffled- like she was trapped under the surf- but he could hear some of it. The little sighs and whines. He could hear them and now that he could hear them he never wanted them to stop hearing them. It seemed like she felt the same way, her hands shooting out and dragging his face towards her, her muffled voice now frantic. There are very few things that he would have not done in that moment to understand what she was saying. Thankfully he had not had to do any of them. She had not given him the chance to do any of them.

He will hand it to his soulmate, she is a strong little thing. To be fair he had not been expecting for her to literally yank him closer to her, fisting his shoulders like she was on a whole different kind of mission than the one he was starting to believe she was on. For a moment there he thought he was going to stop breathing for a completely different reason. A deadly reason. But no, she was not trying to kill him. That is not to say that his heart did not stop- it most certainly had. How could it not? Her dress was fully around her hips now. That would make even the strongest man crumble. He would like to think that he is the strongest man but, honestly, in that moment he had to rethink that stance. He was not strong there.

Apparently he had froze again because the next thing he knew she was throwing herself at him harder, her flower scented body wrapping around him completely as she sank against his neck. She was not letting up- his heart was going to fail, he had been sure of it. He was going to die and she was going to disappear and whoever found him would be left to wonder what in Asgard happened in order to make the trickster god die with a shit eating grin on his face. How fucking ironic.

To think she had not even started torturing him yet and he was already imagining his demise. Looking back on it now he could laugh. In fact he does, a small chuckle breaching his daydream. If only he had known that soon she would press her velvet lips against his neck and steal the last drop of his composure. Maybe he would have been able to intercept it- to press his own lips against hers and feel that lighting sparking through her veins. If only foresight was as sharp as hindsight. What a terribly cruel thing it is to be able to know what he should have done only after it has happened.

Before he can fall deeper into the memory- that blithe experience of pressing her soft body into the very desk he sits at now- there is a knock on his door.

“Loki?” He is not even the slightest bit surprised to hear Frigga’s voice filtering in from the other side of the heavy wooden door.

He does not bother standing. “Come in, mother.”

His room fills with the squeaking of the door on it’s hinges and the soft sound of her heels click, click, clicking against the stone floor. He turns slightly over his shoulder, peering at the tall woman as she glides towards him. If he were not able to hear her shoes he would swear that she is floating, not actually touching the floor. She is much too graceful for her own good, especially given the clunky man she is married to. They definitely balance each other out, that is for sure.

Loki nods at her when she stops a few feet away from him. She glances around his room, her lips pressing together. He does not really know why- it is immaculate as always. Empty. Maybe that is the point, though. Maybe she wishes it was not. He wishes that at least. She continues to stare for a few more moments, her face shielded. It is unnerving, to say the least. He goes to offer her a greeting- to add some sound to the emptiness- but she beats him to it.

“You saw her.” She is still looking at his emerald bed.

His eyes widen. He blinks a few times to hide it but his mother never turns to look at him. Now she stares out the window, lifting one of her small hands to wave in and out of the light that filters through. He cannot look at the light for too long without his mind wandering dangerously. A wandering mind is never usually dangerous but around Frigga it is the most dangerous thing a person can have. He refuses to give his mother even more access to his mind than she already has.

He sinks back against the chair, schooling his features into a cool grin when she finally turns to look at him. “Saw who?”

Frigga rolls her crystal eyes at him, scoffing. “Do not play coy with me son. Now is not the time for games.”

His grin drops. Yeah, that is pretty much exactly what he is expecting her to say. Still he had to try. One of these days he will be able to bar his nosy mother from his thoughts. Not today, but one day.

“Yes, I saw her.” He grinds out. Sometimes speaking to her feels like when he was a boy having his baby teeth pulled out- irritating.

“Do go on. I somehow doubt that is where the story ends.” She leans her back against the wall near his window, her slender arms crossing over her chest, brushing against her flowing blonde hair.

He has to look away again, standing and turning to gaze anywhere but in that general area. There is too much electricity still- too much of her. He does not know what to say about her. He is not about to share the gory details with his mother. He refuses. If she wants to know that badly then she can close her eyes and conjure the image herself, she is more than capable of such a simple spell. For her it would be as easy as breathing.

“She just appeared,” he shrugs. It is the truth, after all. “Out of thin air. One moment nothing and the next moment-” he spins back to his mother, mimicking a small explosion with his fingers- “poof. A soulmate.”

Frigga raises a golden brow, her lips caught somewhere between a smile and a frown. “Poof?”

“A soulmate.” Loki finishes for her, shrugging again.

He does not understand it either. It is almost comical- two of the most powerful beings in the realm positively stumped over a disappearing act. This is child's play after all! Surely one of those books he had been scouring earlier would know something about this. If only he had known what to look for at the time. Vanishing soulmates. Invisible girl. Lightning eyes. Again, hindsight is a jest.

“Well,” Frigga muses, lines appearing on her otherwise flawless forehead as she paces a few steps, her heels click-clicking again. “What did she look like?”

This time he laughs. Now it is comical. “I have not the faintest clue.”

She freezes in her pacing, now half-way across his room, “what do you mean you have not a clue? Surely you must have seen her.”

He shakes his head again, his laughter a little more desperate this time. Suddenly it is not so funny anymore. It never was. He knows that. Better than anyone. He can feel everywhere her body is not touching his and it is a kind of agony that he had not known existed prior to this. He has been in battles before- had pieces of him sliced off and sewn back on- but this is different. You cannot stitch an invisible wound. There is no blood proof, no sign of injury, not even a limp. Just a man who feels like his insides are being ripped out of his body- like his damn organs are trying to find their way back to her; with or without him. He almost breaks down and pleads with them. Take me with you.

“Loki?” Frigga’s hand against his face breaks him from his daze. She is always saving him; it is infuriating.

His voice is just a whisper when finally answers. “No, mother. She was just mist. I could touch her but I could not see her. Well, not her appearance. I could see the mist.”

His mother’s hand on his cheek stills. “Can you explain the mist?”

His back straightens, the corners of his mouth turning down in a sneer he cannot force away. Usually he would never be so cruel with Frigga, no matter how badly he would like to. It makes him feel guilty- ashamed. He never wants to hurt her. Right now, though, he cannot keep the ice out of his voice. It is in his nature after all.

“It was mist. I really do not know what you want me to say. White mist. Clouds maybe. Is there anything else you would like to know, mother?” He squeezes his fist together, concealing where the tips of his fingers begin to frost over.

It is pointless- she would not have noticed anyway. She had drawn away from as soon as he started describing his invisible soulmate. Now Frigga’s face is stoney- her eyes glazed over. She is no longer in his room. He does not know where she is but he has seen this happen before. Not often enough to keep his heart from skipping a beat. His mother is fine but somewhere inside him that scared little boy debates tugging on her sleeve just to make sure.

“Hylli mær.” He flinches back when she speaks.

Her voice does not sound like his mother’s usual gentle tread. It is deeper- stronger- and echoes against the stone walls. Loyal maiden. Frigga never uses the old tongue anymore. She used to, when he was little. It was how he learned the language of the gods. She would sing him lullabies about kings and monsters, all in a language he could not decipher. For what seemed like the longest time he could not understand the stories. Then one day he could. It was as simple as that- as simple as a children's song. This is different though- she is not singing to him anymore.

Loki takes a careful step back towards his mother, noting how her eyes do not follow his movements. “Mother, what are you-”

Frigga’s eyes snap to him and he goes rigid, his words halting. Her gaze still does not reach him but the haunting stare on his mother’s face could very well fool most people. Not her son, but most people. It is still unsettling, the hair on the back of his neck raising. That might be from the way the ends of her golden hair begin to float up around her face though. Her pink lips keep moving but no words form. Loki takes one of her hands, tensing when her molten skin touches his freezing fingers. His touch makes her speak again.

“Silfr auga, ríkr mær.” Silver eyed, powerful maiden.

Her voice is louder this time, no doubt seeping into the hallway. Her hair now floats around the crown of her head and the flowing sleeves of her gown begin to rise as well. He cannot be sure what his mother is seeing but whatever it is does not seem like a walk in the gardens. Her skin grows hotter by the second until finally he has to drop her hand to keep from burning his own flesh. He glances down at his hands, noticing the azure shade rising to meet the new temperature and blanching. No.

“Stǫðva!” He barks, grasping his mother’s slender shoulders, recoiling at the sharp edge in his voice. He has to do it, he reminds himself.

Thankfully that is all it takes to snap her out of her vision. Frigga blinks rapidly, her golden hair dropping against her chest, her crystal eyes darting around his room before focussing in on him again. It takes a moment for her sleeves to drop as well but when they do he decides it is okay to let go of her.

“Loki?” She lifts a hand to her eye, rubbing a circle under her brow. “What happened?”

What? He cocks his head, his mouth opening. He presses it closed quickly. Once again he has no idea what to say. Does she not remember? He lifts his eyes to the window, trying to form a sentence that will make even a little bit of sense. He is starting to get really tired of not knowing what to say. Some silver tongue he is.

“Mother-” he keeps his voice gentle, a stark contrast to the last few moments- “you were having a vision. You spoke in the tongue of the gods. Can you remember anything you saw?”

There is silence in his room for a long moment as he watches Frigga’s finger stop, her lips pursing. In that moment he wishes many things. He wishes he could hear the click-clicking of her heels, if only to fill the quiet. He wishes he were back in the library, scouring for anything that might give him even the faintest clue as to what in Niflheim is happening to him. Most of all though he wishes he was curled up once more with the soft girl- his soft girl- her face pressed against his neck and his hands locked around her back. He does not even have to see her- he will take anything at this point. Anything for just a second of peace. He cannot recall ever having felt this damn tired before.

Frigga’s hands slam against his shoulders, her bright eyes wide. Her fingers tremble against his leather armor. “I remember-” she gasps and he tries to ignore the way her hair begins to rise again- “I remember! She is here!”

“What?” He chokes, his hands rushing out to grab his mother’s before she can pull away.

Something inside him snaps, his vision laser focusing on the woman in front of him. He is not giving her the chance to scamper away this time- she will tell him everything she knows. Now. He does not care that she is his mother. She said it herself; this is not a game anymore.

It never was.

“Tell me what you saw.” There is not even a hint of question in his voice.

“I did not see her, per say.” She responds, her brows narrowing, her eyes taking on that far away look again. It makes his shoulders soften- she is cooperating. “I saw the mist you spoke of though. I felt her. My son, she is strong. I do not know how I missed her presence when she entered the city. Her power is disguised I think- unlike anything I have felt. I do not even know if she knows it. She was following behind two people and in her arms were many bags. They have come for the festival. I could not see them either but they were passing the castle gates just moments ago. They are here-”

Loki hangs on to every word that flows from her mouth, picking the important details from her rambling. The more he hears the more his shoulders tighten again until finally his spine is as straight as a pin, his veins flowing with just barely veiled power. His fingertips are so cold now that he can no longer feel them.

Strong.

Power.

Disguised.

Castle.

Here.

As soon as that word slips from her tongue he is moving, spinning on his heel and all but sprinting out of his bedroom. He has no idea the direction to go or where to even begin looking for her. The castle alone is almost as big as the city. His mother had said she entered the castle though so that means through one of the gates. A picture of the large golden gates- the main gates- appears in his mind. That makes the most sense, the most people will be entering there. Before he knows it he is sprinting, his boots pounding against the stone as he pushes himself as fast as he can go. He will find her today, even if it is the last thing he does.

It very well might be too, because the raven haired god rushes out of his room before his mother can finish the last of her sentence- “and she is in great danger.”

[cafecourage]

Had not thought that far into it, I’ll need to let the idea simmer for a bit before I have all the details. But yes. I am magical girl now.

Warning: long ask — at least on mobile as I’m typing. This got a little ramble-y since I started talking about my main OC’s powers.

Yes, I have a guardian. But I’ve got no clue as to who they are or when I got the egg. I assume I had it for a while.

To answer your question of what powers in my au of your au where I’ve inserted myself, I’m going with my typical OC’s powers for the sake of my brain cells (just woke up and am on Tumblr to try and get brain to agree that sleep is done).

Soul magic (sort of? I don’t like the word soul but have yet to come up with a better word — in my overly complicated botw au is a more intense version of the aura magic that most people have).

I can sense the magical essence (aura) of all living beings. But that sense is more fine tuned, so I can also tell the intention behind every spell before it’s fully cast. I start with support magic, able to boost the spells of others around me (including boosting plants/animals nearby so they can protect me in the field even though I do use a sword/bow thing? Not entirely sure lol). If I try hard enough, usually results in at least a killer headache if not outright passing out, I can muffle or cancel out the spells of others.

Eventually, after being stuck somewhere with a super powerful big boss with nothing else alive around, I realize I’ve been an idiot and that I can use my powers on my own soul. And that it’s a lot more effective that way. (This is what I get for doing what’s traditionally taught for relatively “weak” combat powers like mine instead of carving my own path 🙄)

I then learn how to harden my own magic essence and can use it as a shield or a weapon. My weapon I mentioned earlier is magic and I can now pass my magic through it and it becomes able to keep up with magical combat.

That’s about when Time stops giving me grief about the field being dangerous.

Second part of your question: does Wind know who I am and do I go on magical girl adventures with him? At first, nope he’s got no clue, but yes I do :)

I don’t recognize him at first, because I would assume the whole guardian transformation thing would change one’s magic signature a bit, so with just the the unenhanced aura magic (that never goes away for me. As soon as I realize that particular sixth sense is *not* normal I start to question whether or not I’m completely human — yeah, I don’t know how to explain that. Can you tell these powers weren’t designed for this AU? Lol) Once I realize that I wouldn’t be sure anymore.

I do figure it out eventually, but I’m not gonna tell him. At least not yet. I still haven’t fully realized that not everyone has the ability to recognize magic auras to the same degree I do while transformed. I just assume he already knows and hasn’t said anything, so I don’t either.

And no, I don’t have a tag. I’m hereby claiming funfetti cake.

- Glitter ✨

oh man, this sounds like the Super Hero I made for my thesis film. Instead of spirit energy/aura, it was light manipulation.

I imagine you are all decked out like a mage/oracle. You can fight with a crystal ball!! Or like a telescope. OR A CAMERA.

TAKE A PICTURE OF THE PERSON AND YOU CAN BE ABLE TO MATERIALIZE THE ENERGY OR THAT'S HOW YOU CAN SEE IT!

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH.

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (10)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 4,7K

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Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?)

Updates: Tuesdays [Today I’m posting it a little bit earlier just because] [Also, I have up to chap 12 written but I’ve been blocked/busy to write. I already started chap 13 but the updates may be changed in the future]

Tagging: @aliceu @thatrandomoneinthecorner  @channiewoo

                                               /////

     “Holy Shit!” You sputtered, stumbling over your feet.

      Chan’s arm immediately wrapped around your waist, steading you as you tried to support yourself on the wall; eyes wide like saucers and mouth agape, utterly surprised by the scene you ran into so early in the morning. Hyunjin rubbed his eyes, dragged steps trying to bring him to the living room to check what startled you and Chan that much.

    “Holy shit!” He blurted out, suddenly looking awake. You would have laughed at him in other circumstances but right now you could only focus on Paris and Han sleeping together on the couch. Their bodies were covered with a thick blanket, and you could only hope for them to be fully dressed under there.

    Actually, that was kind of cute.

    As soon as the shock dissolved, you took in the scene. Though the blanket didn’t allow you to see much, you assumed Paris was lying right on top of Han, head resting on the crook of his neck. She nuzzled him, nose rubbing against his neck, which made him squirm a little bit, humming as he adjusted himself, probably hugging her under the sheets. You gave them a small smile, looking at Chan and Hyunjin with soft eyes.

    “Don’t look at me like this, you’re going to clean that couch if his butt touched my cushion” Chan hissed, arms untangling from your waist. He made his way to the kitchen, looking for something to eat “We don’t have anything for breakfast…” He sighed, looking at Hyunjin.

    “I didn’t think about it” He shrugged, and Chan pursed his lips, nodding in disappointment.

    “Of course you didn’t” He rolled his eyes, straightening himself and closing the refrigerator “I guess I’ll order something before we wake them up” He looked at you in doubt, wondering if it was a good plan. You frowned, looking at him in shock.

    “Why the fuck you’re going to order breakfast? Are you nuts?” You scoffed, studying your outfit. Sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. Good enough to go get some stuff “I’m going to buy something real quick” You offered, heading to the door.

    “By yourself?” Hyunjin asked surprised. You arched your brow, looking at him in question “No, I mean… Shouldn’t one of us go with you? Actually, just let us order something, it’ll be way easier” He rambled. You sighed, rolling your eyes before looking at Chan.

     “I’ll be back in a min—“ Your answer was abruptly cut off by a startled Paris. She shrieked, floundering to lift her body, completely embarrassed by the situation. You assumed her attempt to lift her body wasn’t really gentle to Han’s torso, because he shut his eyes open, coughing and trying to move, startled by whatever was happening, which just served to drop Paris to the ground.

    She ended up dragging the blanket with her, uncovering Han to display a fully dressed boy with a damn hangover. He shoots his hand to his eyes, covering them in an attempt to make the light less painful, uncovering the next second to check what was the soft thud followed by a whine that reached his ears. He lifted himself just a little bit, looking to the ground, being greeted by a huge blanket covering something unknown to him.

    “What the actual fuck?” He muttered, covering his eyes again, trying to sit up. The whine came right away. He curled himself on the couch, bringing his knees closer to his chest and holding his head as he rested his forehead on his knee, utterly done with the day.

    Paris wasn’t much better.

    She got rid of the blankets, upset by her fall, a frown carved on her face. She cupped her temples, lips quirking down, another whine leaving her lips as she probably realized she had a hangover. She mimicked Han, curling up and shielding her eyes from the light.

    “Everything good?” You checked, and both of them hissed at you, complaining you were too loud. You sighed, looking at Chan “Do you happen to have some med?” You asked, feeling too young to be the mother of both of your friends. You glanced over at them, snorting as you studied their exact same antics, finding it kind of amusing.

   Chan made his way back to his room, going to look for some pills, and you stood there watching Han and Paris whining like kids. You chuckled before looking at Hyunjin, who seemed quite amused at the situation himself. You approached him, nudging his side.

   “They’re so gonna die of embarrassment later” You grinned, and this time he giggled, nodding and crossing his arm.

    “I’m not going to let them live it down” He promised.

                                                              ////

    “Well, that’s all for today” Mr.Lee announced, standing up before looking around the class. You closed your notebook, shoving it into your bag like everybody else, hoisting your bag over your shoulder to get up but sitting back as Mr.Lee raised his hand, asking silently for all of you to stay a little bit more “Before you all go, I want to ask for feedback about your essay. As you may know, it was the first time I gave you an essay like this, so… Well, I guess I want to hear you out”    

    “I think it was pretty invasive” Someone raised their hand, stiffly exposing their opinion “Also, we could have more time… It’s not exactly easy to put all your life in someone’s hand when you don’t know them” You nodded in agreement. Although you had ended up with Paris and Hyunjin, you could imagine how hard it was for the groups who didn’t know each other.

    Embarrassing, to say the least.

    “I agree” Someone else raised their hand, boldly crossing their arms right after, a challenging look across their face “How were we supposed to give all our lives to someone to discuss when we didn’t even know this person? We had two weeks to know one another… It’s not like we can just trust people like this” It was a good point. You looked at Mr.Lee, who hummed, nodding at the input.

   “I’ll admit that this was one of my goals” He said, thoughtfully grabbing his chin “The whole point was to put all of you on the spot, just like a patient feels when they go to therapy. I understand it’s hard… Also, in therapy, you have the law beside you stating the psychologist can’t spread your life around… But the vulnerability itself was my point” He seemed pleased with their discomfort, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

   You never felt as vulnerable as you felt talking about yourself and your family issues with Paris. If that was the whole point, he did an amazing job embarrassing you all. You looked at Paris, narrowing your eyes as you pondered his arguments. Indeed, even if she was a “psychologist” to the project, she also had to put her story in both your hand and Hyunjin’s, so she was on spot too, even if she didn’t need to discuss it with you.

    There was no one to be saved there.

   “Let me ask you this… How many of our fake psychologists think they had a positive impact on your group?” He looked around and so did you. Some people raised their hands, including Paris, who smiled proudly, chest puffed out “Now, how many of you think that impact could replace a real therapy?” You looked around again.

    Not one hand raised.

    “Good, good” He said softly, nodding in approval “You aren’t psychologists and therapy is way different than this activity. I want you guys to understand that it’s hard to open up and you, as a psychologist, won’t be the only one studying what is right in front of you… Patients are logical and judging human beings like all of us. They can and will study you” He walked around, hands to his back, watching all of you “They know you are analyzing them and they will choose you based on something. It can be your empathy, it can be your responsiveness to them, it can be the apparent lack of judgment… It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that none of you are better than them, and the sooner you realize it, the better”

    You took in everything he said.

     He was good.

     “Lastly, who would consider going to a therapist after all the debates you guys did for this project?” You raised your hand immediately, looking around to see if anyone else would raise their hands. To your surprise, a lot of people did, such as Hyunjin, who didn’t seem too comfortable to raise it fully in the air, shyly letting his hand hover over his lowered head.

     Your eyes met Paris, hands rested on her lap.

     Really?

    Mr.Lee finally waved his hands dismissively, allowing all of you to go. You got up again, followed by Paris and Hyunjin – and all of your classmates, eager to just go anywhere else –, hoisting your bag over your shoulder and heading to the stairs. You risked a glance at Paris before clearing your throat.

    “No therapist?” You asked curiously, and she gave you an amused look, chuckling.

     “Why? Do you think I need it or something? I think I’m pretty well by myself” She sounded placid, her face totally at ease, as if she didn’t give much thought to your question. You shrugged casually studying your surroundings before returning your gaze to her.

     “Well, we all need someone to talk to” You said hesitantly, and she eyed you weirdly, ready to confront you. Before she could say anything, though, Hyunjin joined the conversation. He had a teasing smirk adorning his lips, a mischievous glint on his eyes warned both of you about his intentions.

     “She already has someone, right, Paris?” She rolled her eyes, groaning and throwing her head back as if she could ask God to take him away at any moment now “I just don’t know if they talk much… I’m sure as hell they cuddle a lot, though” You chuckled, shaking your head amused by him. Paris blushed, gaze fixed on the ground.

    “She won’t even say anything! I guess she just fell like this” You joked, getting an approving nod from Hyunjin. He looked proudly at you, glad to know you were going to join him in annoying her “I’ve heard you and Han have a project together this week” You grinned, making her scoff and push you lightly, holding the strap of her bag tightly before looking at you.

    “Yeah, I kinda told you that yesterday” She pointed out sarcastically “Really, guys… Will you ever let it go? I was drunk” She gave you her puppy eyes, which normally would have some effect on you but not today. You chuckled, nudging her too, smirking as you saw her pointed look at you, grumpily waiting for whatever you had to say.

  “Please!” You rolled your eyes “Even in your drunkest days you never woke up on top of me!” You accused, and she groaned again, clutching her cheeks and pulling them down. Hyunjin chuckled at her reaction before nudging her, pointing ahead to the stairs.

   “Oh, look! Boyfriend is waiting for you” He teased, pointing to Han, who waited for you on the stairs, nervously gripping his backpack’s straps. Paris shouted to get his attention out of habit, which just intensified your teasing until you got next to him. You and Hyunjin smirked at him as soon as you reached him, throwing him a suggestive look.

    “What’s up?” He tried to break the ice, blushing as his eyes darted between you and Paris before setting on Hyunjin “Is he going to stick with us from now on?” He asked displeased, and you were prepared to send Hyunjin away so you could head to the dining hall but Hyunjin interrupted you before you could say it.

    “Rude” He pointed out “As far as I remember, you came along to my house, and I even let you sleep on my couch with my girl” He joked. You and Paris chuckled, though she whined right after, knowing she wouldn’t be able to live it down so soon. Han seemed to blush harder─ which didn’t seem even possible─ and cleared his throat before grimacing at Hyunjin.

    “First of all, She’s not your girl” His tone was kinda threatening, and you had to fight back a smile as you glanced at a blushing Paris beside you “And what was I supposed to do? Let them with a dick like you?” He challenged, puffing his chest and trying to look more intimidating. Hyunjin scoffed at him, looking down at his eyes and grimacing.

   “I wasn’t the one who woke up drunk with someone on the couch” He sneered, stepping ahead to approach him, getting just a few inches away from Han “I don’t think you’re in any position to call me a dick” You darted your eyes between the two boys, worried. The tension built up to the point the four of you got silent, looking warily to each other, swallowing dry and clearing your throats once in a while.

    “You know what? We’re getting late to our lunch with Chan” You blurted out, locking your arm with Hyunjin’s, who gave you an astonished look. You gave a tight smile to your friends, ignoring the distressed look you got from Han and the confused frown Paris shot your way “See you guys later! Bye!” You waved your hand, dragging Hyunjin along with you hurriedly.

    “I’m sorry but what the fuck?!” Hyunjin looked at your arms locked, brows knitting together as he looked at them incredulously “I don’t recall Chan saying anything about a lun—“ You glanced back to make sure Paris and Han wouldn’t be looking at you, dropping his arm and interrupting him immediately.

    “I don’t want you guys to fight” You waved dismissively “Also, it’s better if they got some alone time together, don’t you think?” You snorted. He hummed in agreement, straightening up and peeking at you.

   “So… Where are we going to eat?” He asked curiously, shoving his hands on his pockets casually, tilting his head to observe you.

   “What do you mean?” You scoffed, arching your brows amused. He rolled his eyes, gesturing to the dining hall impatiently.

   “Well, Chan didn’t invite us to eat so I’m assuming you’ll eat somewhere else since your friends will be there” He wagged his hand, looking at you as if you were dumb. You nodded slowly, realizing he was right.

   “I didn’t really think it through” You admitted “I can go anywhere else, that’s not a problem… One day won’t make such a difference to my final budget” You shrugged, and he nodded back, uncomfortable. You arched your brow, nodding your head in question.

   “So… That’s it” He raised his hand to wave you goodbye, stiffly standing in front of you “See you around” And that being said, both of you parted your ways.

                                                                      ////

    Wednesday was a lonely day.

    By now, you were used to having lunch by yourself and go back home to enjoy your few hours before your shift. You always treasured these two hours. It was the time you had to stay in silence, peacefully laid down on your bed, or stressfully trying to put up with your assignments.

    Usually, you didn’t open the door to find Paris and Han on the couch, though.

    “Oh?” You let out, clearly confused. Han held the guitar to his torso, looking down to the strings as he thought about something, humming as he heard Paris mumble. They raised their heads slowly, looking at you froze on the doorframe “I didn’t know you were going to be here… I just came to…” Your eyes wandered around the room, spotting your book on the table “To pick this up” You walked over to the table, smiling awkwardly before getting your book.

    “You’re going out?” Paris asked surprised. Of course, she did. She knew you liked to stay in your room at this time, even if she wasn’t home. You always beamed about your alone time on Wednesdays. You took quick steps to the door, nodding before your eyes roamed around the room, struggling to focus on them and hide your nervousness.

    “Hm… Yeah! I’m actually… I’m meeting up a friend” You stumbled around your words, letting out a fake giggle “To… Lend him this!” You raised your book, finally finding something to say “He asked me this book and I totally forgot to take it with me! Yep! That’s right” You smiled proudly, waving at them “Bye! Take your time together! See you later” You said as you closed the door behind you.

    You stood there in front of the door, blinking a few times before letting a sigh out. God, you were horrible at lying! You glanced at the door, holding the book close to your chest and ready to go to the only place you could go now that you expelled yourself from your room: The garden. You absolutely loved to lay there on the grass, watching as squirrels and birds passed by, afraid to get close to you.

    You let out a sigh.

    Definitely not your plan for the day but it would work.

    You made your way to your destination, calmly walking through the halls ─looking at the garden as you walked beside the arches, hand sliding through the baluster as you felt the soothing breeze huff your face ─, watching the green grass and the yellow flowers that you liked so much. You smiled as you watched a squirrel pick up something from the ground, quickly moving to hide it somewhere else. When it reached the tree it was aiming at, your eyes fell upon the guy who was resting there.

    It was Hyunjin.

    He seemed absorbed in his book, which was pretty surprising as you never pictured him as the reader type. Especially not an under-the-tree-reader kind of a guy. He was laid down on the grass, earbuds on and backpack supporting his head; one leg bent while the other one was straight, giving him a relaxed and composed look. As the treetop danced around with the wind, the filtered sunbeam danced around him too, making it look like there was the perfect spot to read a book.

    You averted your eyes to look around the place, noticing a few more people than usual hanging there. It wasn’t hard to notice most of them were girls simply admiring him while he was reading, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. As soon as you went down the stairs, finally getting to the grass, you made your way to him, ignoring the few pointed looks you received.

    “Hey, Hyunjin” You called but he didn’t answer.

    He must be really focused on his reading to not listen to your calling. You shadowed him, which appeared to get his attention, his startled eyes raising from the book to look at you. He took one of his earbuds out, hand hovering beside his ear as he held it, looking confused at you.

   “What are you doing here?” He asked surprised, raising his torso and sitting on the grass. He lifts his chin to look straight into your eyes, and you chuckled at his response.

    “Should I send you a warning every time I come to a public place?” You asked jokingly, and he let out a chuckle of his own, shaking his head in amusement. He closed his book mindlessly and you couldn’t help but be in stitches as you realized what happened right before your eyes.

    His phone slid from the book, and even though you couldn’t hear it, you could see the Drama playing on his screen. You covered your mouth, trying to muffle your laugh, and his eyes shot to his phone, cursing under his breath as he quickly took the phone from the ground, shoving it into his pocket. You pinched the bridge of your nose, squatting as you tried to recompose yourself, pointing out to his pockets.

    “I can’t…” You had to stop, gasping for air as you let another fit of laughter slip from your lips “… Believe you’re pretendi—“ Before you could end your sentence his hand shot to your mouth, cupping it. He jolted forwards, his other hand reaching for your nape so you wouldn’t go away from his grip and keep talking.

    “Shhh” He hissed, widening his eyes in a silent warning. You looked into his eyes, studying them until he realized what he was doing, letting go of you immediately. He looked away for a moment, seeming embarrassed before he shot you a smug look “Did you miss me or something?” He teased, and you rolled your eyes before sitting on the grass, legs crossed.

    “Yeah, that must be it” You scoffed, bracing yourself on your thighs “So…” You drew out, smirking as he looked at you annoyed, sensing you would mock him “Why are you here pretending to read… Political Science stuff?” You ended up confused, fixing the book so you could read its title.

    “Well, I’m a Political Science student” He pointed out as if it was obvious. You grimaced, flicking his book before nodding.

   “So you kinda should read it for real, hm?” You gave him a tight smile, and he snorted, nodding in agreement.

    “Okay, that’s fair enough” He shrugged “Just in case some Professor goes by… You know, I have to look smart to keep up my better-than-you facade” He smirked, expecting you to retort him or something but you just rolled your eyes again and pushed him lightly.

    “If you have the time to look like you’re better than me, you should start studying for real” You suggested, and this time he was the one who scoffed, tilting his head to the side before grinning obnoxiously.

    “Then I’d be way better than you and it would be too easy” He teased, grinning dissolving when you threw your head back groaning, making mention to get up. He grabbed your wrist, laughing “No, no, no! I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He giggled, and you looked at him with narrowed eyes before settling back on the grass.

    “Well, what are you doing here after all?” You asked curiously, waving dismissively to his apologetic eyes. You liked to spend your time in the garden, so you’d know if he hung around your garden like this… You didn’t recall seeing him even once.

    “I come here on Wednesdays… I’m just waiting for my classes” He shrugged “What about you? I never saw you around here” He eyes you curiously, and you chuckled, hands going to the ground as you leaned slightly back, supporting yourself, straightening your legs.

    “I was going to rest before work but Paris and Han are at the dorms, so I figured I should leave them alone” You said, looking at him with a small smile. Hyunjin furrowed his brows, tilting his head to the side, confused. He waited for you to continue but you didn’t, so he frowned, deciding to speak up.

    “Okay?” He said warily “What about it?” You looked at him as if he needed a new brain, snorting before nudging him with your foot.

   “Well, They like each other so –“ Hyunjin interrupted you by chortling, looking at you as if you were a confused kid, fondly mocking you without a word. You tilted your head, confused by his reaction, waiting for his explanation.

    “You’re kidding, right?” He chuckled, looking at any signs of amusement on your face, which he didn’t find “No! Seriously?! It’s so damn obvious he likes you!” He seemed surprised by your obliviousness, and you laughed at his delusional self, shaking your head in amusement.

    “You’re crazy! He likes Paris for like… Years!” You retorted, rolling your eyes “Where did you even get that from?” You scoffed, and this time he leaned forward, legs crossed and hands fisting the grass lightly.

   “No, look… I’m sorry to break it to you but he likes you” He repeated himself, and you looked away in disbelief “No! Really! He doesn’t like Paris! Just think for a moment, Y/N! Why would he even come to punch me for thinking I made you cry?” He looked distressed, totally taken aback by the fact that you didn’t agree with him.

    “He’s my friend! Of course, he would get upset if he thought someone made me cry!” You rolled your eyes “He stands up for me and Paris all the time. It’s called friendship, Hyunjin” He scoffed, looking away before grimacing at you.

   “Okay, and why was he all riled up when we ate the hot dog that night?” He challenged. You frowned. Well… Apart from his worries about Hyunjin in general, Han didn’t really have a reason to get so upset “See? Deep down you know I’m right” He smiled triumphantly.

   “He acts differently when he’s around Paris” You retorted, crossing your arms. He rolled his eyes, sighing “I mean it! Did you see how he acts beside her?” You insisted eagerly.

   “Please… He acts differently when he’s around you” He arched his brows, as if to make his point, “That’s how he acts around you! Have you ever seen how he act around her when you’re not around? I mean it. He likes you.” He was serious, and for a moment you couldn’t take his words out of your mind.

   Was that how he acts around you not her?

   “Anyway… I don’t even know why I’m trying to make you understand it” He shrugged “It’s none of my business” He sighed, arching one brow, studying your flabbergasted expression “Though I think I made my point” He chuckled, and you shook your head.

   “No, you didn’t!” You blurted out; too eager “He likes her! He has to” You decided, settling with your previous beliefs “She likes him, you heard it yourself! And I’m sure he likes her back… They just need some alone time to get together” He sighed in defeat, giving up on the idea. As you prepared to get up, wondering where you should go to rest, he tilted his head, grabbing your wrist again. You looked down at him, and he bit his lips in doubt before speaking up.

   “Do you want to watch it together?” He asked, taking his phone out of his pocket “You can read your book too if you prefer… The tree is big enough for both of us” He smiled friendly, and you had to smile back. It was the first time he was being friendly without any suggestive or teasing remarks attached.

   “I’d love to” You nodded, crawling to the tree trunk, leaning against it. He laid down again, resting his head on his backpack and giving up on pretending to be studying, raising his phone right up his eyes, so he would be watching it in peace. You opened your book, prepared to re-read it since you had actually read it over the weekend, noticing as he glanced at you.

   “Is that book this good for you to prefer reading it instead of watching something?” He asked cautiously, and you smirked at him.

   “Yes, it is… I think you should try it” You offered, and he scoffed.

   “No way, I’m going to watch my Drama” He rolled his eyes.

   “We watch it together and then you read my book” You suggested “Then you have to be sincere about it! You can’t just decide your drama was better without trying to read it!” You looked at him accusingly, and he chuckled.

   “What is on for me?” He asked smugly, and this time you rolled your eyes to him.

   “The shame of being so wrong throughout your life that you should hide under a rock” You grimaced, making him laugh “Or maybe I’m the one who should hide under a rock…” You let the sentence hanging in the air, and he smiled confidently.

   “Deal” He agreed. You closed the book, resting it on his stomach as you laid down, resting your head on your hand, elbowing the grass.