#is that wrong to admit? that if he were an ant i would crush him beneath the heel of my boot. that i would slam him with a brick that I wou

[cassiskurocorner]

Art for @echoshunsnarcissus 's fic Skyward Symphonies. I heard you were working on the next chapter 0:) please use this as more motivation!

Alternate versions under cut!

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

Rewrite the ending

-Just once, let him rewrite the story; Just once, he promises you will never have to watch the same ending again.

Paring��� felix x mommy issues!reader

Genre ◦ smut with pain

Warnings ◦ The reader is described as having mommy issues though the argument is very brief so it can connect with more people, angst, talk about knives, PIV sex, CONSENT, ngl this is just some passionate lovemaking, tears during sex, references to the princess bride the greatest love story of all time I will die on this hill,

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr, @velvetmoonlght

A/N ◦ This is literally a story solely based on an experience I just had with my mother and needed something to comfort me while I have a mental breakdown 😃 also if you liked this man I have mommy issues I severely need reassurance 😭

can somebody please tell me if this is convoluted because I tried to make it poetic but I don't know if I just made it messy. THANK YOU.

Soundtrack ◦ Family Line by Conan Grey, Cover me by Stray Kids

~cookiecreates 🍪

The screen flickers off.

The velvet curtains close.

The world fades to black.

The End

Your ribs crack open, heavy sobs echoing through the gaps of your unfolded bones. Your hands make purchase around your shredded soul, the warm liquid of your sorrows trickling through your splayed fingers like the shadow's phantom finger tracing the lines of your melancholy, dusting over the hill of your cheeks. 

One more time.

Just one more time.

You rewind the tape-

The velvet curtains stutter open.

The screen flashes white.

Just one more time.

How many times could you watch the same movie before you realized the ending would never change?

You rewind the tape-

How many times could you lick her love off the edge of a knife before you realize the blade will never dull?

You slide the tip across your tongue-

Just one more time.

Please.

Just pretend to love me one more time.

"For once, can you admit that you're wrong?" you snap, attempting to steady your rising voice. 

You've been arguing with your mother for centuries, your breath grating across your throat like grains of sharpened sand. Talking to her was like bouncing wisdom off a wall; it will only ever come to bite you in the ass-

"I did what I had to do to teach you discipline; you were unruly-"

or punch you in the face.

"I was nine!" you shout, a weak and wounded cry. "Nine!"

How could she not see that?

"I did it because I loved you."

She rips your heart out of your chest, only to dust a gentle finger underneath the curve of your jaw; her sweet smile coaxes your lips open; she was your mother, and yet, with a wicked gaze, she draws her fingers together—you choke, a thick river of blood flows onto your tongue like a bitter stream of a thousand broken promises.

There was so much you wanted to say to her.

"Maybe you should reevaluate your definition of love."

"Maybe you should have just been a better daughter."

"Only she could spread sugar across your skin before feeding your soul to the ants."

The signal of an ended call rings through your ears as the world fades to black.

The velvet curtains close.

The screen flickers off.

The movie sputters to a stop.

The End

All you wanted to hear was I'm sorry.

All you have ever wanted to hear was I'm sorry.

You are far too entranced with the stillness of your spine to hear the door creak open, Felix’s hesitant footsteps carefully creep closer. It is only when he mumbles a soft, saturnine "sweetheart" that you finally feel something-

"How did it go?" Felix believed the strings of your souls were so intertwined, the two of you experienced emotions the way an instrument feels the thrum of a cord; but as your heart pumps with an intangible amount of anguish, maybe even for you, some feelings were simply too subjective to share.

It is only when your heart has been crushed by fingers made of feathers do you start caring a lot less about the hands made of knives.

How desperately he wishes he was a human with hinges, where he may unscrew his soul and allow your eyes to gaze upon his walls, with the knowledge that they were only ever painted with the thought of you.

He would not hurt you-

Please, collapse into him, just once-

Let him prove that you will never have to fall again-

Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, your hand chases his touch, a million different uncompleted sentences dissipating as soon as your skin connects; your fingers beg, hold me, even as your mouth shutters shut, dusty rivulets cascading across your cheeks like the desert's silky sand.

You were empty.

so, so, very empty-

Felix's soothing hands lock underneath the bend of your knees, pulling you into his warm embrace with a rush of unregistered movements.

You rewind the tape.

Just one more time.

You needed to be reminded of what it was like to not constantly live with the echo of a hollow soul.

Just one more time.

You needed to be reminded of what it was like to hear something other than a deafening crescendo of pure contempt.

Just one more time.

"Please," you have lived so much of your life caught in a perpetual state of emptiness, for once, you wanted to remember what your body was like before your mother bore you with the heavy burden of broken wings.

"Touch me," you shove the palm of his hand into your core, pleading with so much of your soul none left to protest. He gasps into your mouth, his face scrawled with worry, the etch of a million different fears drawn into the deep lines of his forehead.

Just once

Let him rewind the film

Just once

You will never have to watch the same ending again.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Though his words are unsure, his actions tell a different story; tender hands massage the length of your thighs, reluctantly begging you to open up, to unfold your deformed ribs, where he will fill your hollow bones with the type of love you have only ever yearned for.

Just once.

"I need you."

You need him more than you need your heart to beat, your lungs to breathe; you need him more than you need the birds, the bees, the ground, the trees—

He lays you upon the silken sheets with such soulful kindness that your glassy eyes almost break; his heart thrums with the promise of I love you and the vow of I'll make you fly. His hand dips into the band of your shorts, pleasure peeking out from the shadows of your mind, only ever bobbing its head long enough to fill your skin with a minute tingling sensation—like running your hands under hot water after a long day in the snow, but it was not enough.

"I need you," you gasp into his mouth, his throat desperately sucking the sound in. His eyes widen ever so slightly, his features stricken with a sudden tightness, a burdened tonnage; you were handing him your heart with the hope his hands weren't made of blades, and the idea of the utter trust you have put in him to do that makes his stomach flip.

Just once—

He will prove it all to you.

"As you wish," nostalgia flutters in your veins as you reminisce the sentence pulled straight from the greatest love story ever told. His nose nudges the column of your throat as he presses a peck on your flesh, drifting his arms down to unceremoniously pull off his pants.

Even with such a simple act, he makes the effort to remind you that he is here.

He takes his time removing your clothes, fingers sliding across your skin with a delicate intimacy, a tender reverence; his lips trace the lines of your seams until your very atoms are etched with his name.

I hate her

I love you

I love you

I love you

He coupled every leak of anger with a river of love, kissing your limbs until all your body could remember was the pureness of his ardor.

"Are you ready?" he whispers against your skin, lining himself with your entrance, all he needs is a word to finally sink himself in. Your eyes are glassy, gazing up at him with such an unadulterated passion, a pure amount of pain—this will tear you apart, and he promises with every fiber of his being, he will put you back together.

"Yes." You have lived most of your life with the heavy burden of a body’s broken wings, and it isn't until Felix’s crafted hands finally crease your ribs that you realize origami can only emerge when you fold it up, the way a bird can only fly when it falls.

You are an amalgamation; so much of your soul is lost in his lips you don't know where he begins and you end, but when a rush of pleasure tingles up your spine, you don't care.

The world is tangled somewhere on the edge of in-between space and time, melding together into a mushy, gushy substance that slips through your fingers as they lace in his raven locks. You pour all your pain into the slit of his lips, where he sucks in every drop, leaving no room for your protests.

You were both overcome with a flood of delicate feelings—the passion that surged with the twists of your heartbeats began to be too much to bear; as his hips ruthlessly rut into yours, you cry out, chasing the edge of a daydream. So close, so close, so—his lips taste like I love you and his tears like I'm here. You can only hear the crash of your soul shattering before his ginger fingers sew you back together.

The juxtaposition of that orgasm was astounding.

You both slam down into the earth at the same time, holding each other's tired bodies as the ground swallows you up.

His arms lock around your head, quivering as he struggles to hold himself up, droplets of tears land on your cheeks as they dip down the slope of his nose. He was so perfect-

so, so, very perfect.

Your mouth raises to kiss a tear clinging to the tip of his nose. He chokes, squeezing his eyes shut. You both are thrumming with tension, overflowing with emotion; before you can even blink, he is pulling you to his chest, naked and sticky, he holds you closer than you have ever been.

It is through the tears of others that we remember we are alive.

Just one more time.

Rewind the tape and let him kiss your shattering soul with the knowledge that has already rewritten the ending.

Just once-

Collapse into him.

Let him prove that this story really is—

The End  

©CookieCreates (posted: August, 12th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

~cookiecreates 🍪

[magalidragon]

🏒 the deal 🎶 | “Sometimes people sneak up on you and suddenly you don't know how you ever lived without them.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @youwerenevermine! 🥳🥰😘🤗🎂🎈🎊🎁 Okay fine whatever so I am a few hours your time early, but I was so excited to share and honestly, the world is going to end soon and I wanted to get ahead of the game. I went back and forth over what to do for you and couldn’t decide so went with this. The original hockey boyfriend Mr. Garrett Graham and sassy Hannah Wells! It is Jonerys meets THE DEAL! I hope you like it! So grateful to this fandom for introducing me to you! Love you bby! 😘

There was a very strong possibility Jon Snow had made a terrible mistake making this deal with Daenerys Targaryen. He figured it was easy enough; she was a smarty pants and could help him get his grade up in what was supposed to be an "easy A" philosophy class and keep him from getting benched. In doing so, he'd pretend to date her and the guy she had a crush on-- fucking Robb, his own damn cousin-- would see her as a bit more than weird silver-haired purple-eyed Dany and want to ask her out. Since Robb wanted anything he couldn't have-- particularly if Jon had it first.

Now he was watching Robb openly flirt with her and was squeezing his beer bottle so hard he figured he'd be benched not for his shitty philosophy grade but for having to get stitches in his stick hand. It was supposed to be an easy quid-pro-quo. A deal. Started off more annoying than anything else-- Dany could not have cared one single snowflake that he was Queen Alysanne University's star left winger and frequently let him know it. He honestly appreciated it, even if he had to really wear her down, chasing her all over Winterfell to get her to concede.

That had honestly been fun. Then there were their random long conversations after studying. Topics ranged from the best pizza toppings-- pepperoni and more pepperoni for him, while she saw nothing wrong with pineapple on her pizza-- to the best Marvel movie-- he didn't mind that movie about 'The Eternals' while she thought it sucked and liked 'Ant Man' more, all the way over to which House of Commons member should win the two highly competitive ridings near Winterfell or who really won the War of Five Kings?

He also had admitted to her some things he'd never shared with anyone. That he might be the aloof "Ice Man" of QAU hockey who could get any girl he wanted, he actually played that image outside of his truly private life. In reality he just couldn't think of girls, he was too busy trying to do his best to keep his grades up to get a very difficult degree in metallurgy and cultural anthropology while also making sure he didn't lose his rookie contract with the Winterfell Wolves professional hockey team.

Just like he knew all she wanted was to get the bonus money from the School of Drama and Music's winter showcase to help with her mother's medical bills, back in Pentos. That her dream was to sing on stage at the King's Landing Opera House.

All of that swam in his head, those conversations and late nights, sitting out in the quad on a blanket while she quizzed him on long dead Maesters, or that time she'd come to one of his games and he'd scored a hat trick, so she ahd to come to every singel one afterward.

He had done his job; he talked her up to Robb. He lingered in the living room of his and Robb's shared house when they would talk, just in case there needed to be extra prodding. Now they were on a bloody, fucking date.

"Jon, buddy, let go of the beer. The beer didn't do anything to you. Come on man, there you go." His friend and other roommate, Satin, carefully pried his fingers off the glass neck, moving the bottle to the oak bartop. "Alright, so when are you going to tell her?"

"Huh?" He was now glaring at the back of Robb's stupid auburn head, wondering if he could cut off those fucking curls while he was sleeping and blame their fourth roommate Theon. "Tell her what?"

"That you're in love with her, you dipshit."

Thank the gods he wasn't holding the beer bottle because he'd have definitely dropped it. He also was glad he didn't have any beer in his mouth, because that would have been sputtered everywhere as he gaped at Satin, who was now studying his fingernails nonchalantly. "Wha...what...I'm not....she's a friend! She wasn't just a friend, she was...Dany.

Dany, whose first words to him were: "I'm sorry do I know you?"

Dany, who always tied her long silver braids up on her head in a knot using pencils. Who hummed random song llyrics and chords and scribbled them on ltitle pieces of paper. Who had a voice that sounded like fucking angels from teh rafters. Who snorted and cackled when she laughed. Who called him "Wolf Man" instead of "Ice Man" because he had a wolf back home and one tattooed on his arm.

Dany....Dany who always smelled like lemons and lavender and who...

He blinked. It was like seeing everything under a different filter. Brighter. Across the bar, he watched Dany laugh at something Robb said, but it didn’t meet her eyes. She was playing with the silver guitar pick she used, something he had learned was a nervous habit. Her eyes— vibrant, happy lavender— did not fully meet his, but he knew she had glanced his way.

Gods. Was he in love with her? Was that what this feeling was? He couldn’t love her. He had to focus on hockey and studying and…it was just easier to keep that other side of him out there. If Jon Snow actually found a girl…a music major who didn’t know a deke from a slapshot and thought there were quarters not periods…he’d never hear the end of it.

He didn’t care. He didn’t want her with Robb. “And why is that?” Satin asked.

Fuck he said that out loud? “Because she’s mine,” he snapped. He paused. “No she is her own person of course I don’t own her obviously but…” He drained the beer bottle. This was one thing Robb was not going to steal from him. He stomped over to their table and didn’t even wait for his cousin to say anything before he glanced at Dany. “Get your coat, we still have to finish that Agatha show.”

She cocked her head up, confused. “Jon what…”

“Come on.”

“Jon,” Robb began, but he didn’t even have time to finish. Jon grabbed Dany’s hand, tugging her away and towards the back corridor. “What the seven hells Jon!”

If she wanted to fight him, she could. He’d let her anyway. Dany did not pull very hard and protested over Robb’s loud complaining. “Jon seriously what the fuck are you doing?!” She pushed at his chest when he tugged them into the stairwell that led up to the bar manager office, the dim lighting throwing her face in relief. She was fuming. She was a dragon, he expected it. “What was that!?”

“I want to see something.” He didn’t wait for a response. He had to do this. So he crashed his mouth down over hers.

The shock had her gasping, lips parting under his. Soft, plump, perfect lips, and he pressed gently, his hands dropping to her small waist to hold her upright against the wall. She had her hand on his shoulder and for a second he didn’t think she was going to kiss back and made to pull away, apology at the ready, knowing he had fucked this up completely.

Until her hands dove into his hair and she opened her mouth wider, moaning and pulling him to her. He groaned, desperate now, a man who had his first taste of water after wandering a desert, and cupped her jaw, angling her head so he could rise over her, sliding his tongue along hers. Gods. She tasted like strawberries. How!? One of life’s mysteries, he supposed.

The need for air separated them, their breathing ragged and foreheads touching, noses brushing. Her gaze lifted, meeting his. “I take it you don’t think I should see Robb?”

He shook his head, whispering, “Come home with me. I’ll make you a deal.”

“And what’s that?”

He kissed her again, nipping her bottom lip. Her breasts were pressed to his chest and his knee had wedged itself between hers. They were about ten seconds away from a public indecency charge. His voice dropped, gravelly. “You come home with me and I’ll make you come within ten minutes. Five, even.”

Her cheeks flushed pink. “And what do you get out of this deal?” she asked.

He pretended to think, before flashing a grin. “The knowledge I made you come. Oh and, our next movie night you don’t wear underwear.”

She smirked now. “I am not one of your puck bunnies.”

“And you know I don’t do puck bunnies.”

After a second, she barely nodded. “Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got Wolf Man.”

“So it’s a deal then Targy?” She hated that nickname. The glare she shot him had him grinning.

She pulled at his hand, towards the back exit. “It’s a deal.”

[anxious-witch]

Part two of how Dead Boy Detectives shows different ways of love/lust/devotion throughout the characters' rs.

Part one

This part is gonna focus on Edwin/Monty and part three is gonna be about Crystal/Niko(bc I can't shut up, apparently)

So before I delve into Edwin/Monty dynamic, let's just take a look at Monty as a character in his own right.

He is quite literally a crow turned human and then turned back to the crow again. There is this tumblr post that describes the concept of madness in terms of eldritch horror. Basic idea is that madness is when you are an ant, but then for a moment, you can comprehend things as a human would, just to have it taken away again. You have a memory of understanding things far beyond your comprehension, but you can't understand them anymore. That is true madness.

And Monty experiences that, both with being overwhelmed with human emotions and it clearly taking a toll on him in the short period that he is human, and then gets turned into a crow again. Clearly there is still some recollection and understanding he possess, due to the fact he helps Charles, but we'll never really know.

Either way, the bits and pieces we see of Monty's life as a human, we can safely say he has very little to no agency of his own. He was created to fulfill a goal-to lead Charles and Edwin into a trap.

I am not usually a big fan of characters who were "born yesterday" experiencing romance and defining themselves through it, but I think DBD carried out that trope in such a beautiful and unique way. We can't know for certain, but based on Esther's reaction to seeing Monty flirt with Edwin, I think we can conclude she didn't give him direct instructions on how to get their trust. Which meant that Monty choose to pursue Edwin on his own volition.

It was at least a bit out of practicality, I'm sure, since Charles and Crystal had their thing going on, but there was also something that drew Monty to Edwin. I think what's so special in their relationship is that Monty seems surprised Edwin reciprocates his attempts-until the kiss that is. Edwin may scoff at astrology, but then he intently listens to Monty explaining his chart to him. He recommends a book to him, and discusses it with him. He even agrees to go on a night stroll with him!

I don't fully blame Monty for reading Edwin wrong. Up until that point, Edwin seemed very open to his advances. It's easy to us, as the viewer to know Edwin's focus is elsewhere, and that he sees what he and Monty have as friendship.

Anyway, I am derailing my point. What I think is done brilliantly is that the very few choices Monty is allowed to make are centered around Edwin, but they also tells us a hell lot about Monty himself! Monty sees love as a way of understanding a person. That's why he makes Edwin's chart, and whenever you believe in astrology or not, he clearly does. And he thinks he knows Edwin. Edwin is determined, stubborn, protective, but also kind and thoughtful.

Which is why it's such a blow when he completely misreads Edwin's feels during the swingset scene! Monty's idea of love, as naive as it, is shattered. Because it turns out he doesn't know Edwin at all. The whole meeting in the woods, where the Cat King appears only crushes him further, but he felt betrayed even before that.

"Charles is the one you have feelings for. It is so obvious!" Sounds quite a lot like someone who didn't find it obvious up until it was too late to take his actions back. Because it turns out you cannot know a person so quickly. They are much more complex. Too complex, for someone who is only few weeks human, like Monty is.

But then, Edwin admits that he still cared for him. That Monty was his first kiss and despite Edwin not reciprocating his feelings, he is still his friend and that still matters to him greatly. Because there is a more than one way to love and care for someone. Which, by the Monty's reaction, he didn't realize up until that moment.

Immediately upon realizing it, what does Monty do? He turns everything around. Yes, the Cat King stops him and exposes his secret so his attempt is moot, but let's not forget the fact that Monty was about to throw away everything for Edwin in that moment. His whole history with Esther, the threat of her possible vengeance, everything he is up until that point. All because Edwin cares for him. Genuinly, truly confirms he cares for him.

I think that's what makes it so powerful. It isn't romantic love that sways Monty. No, it's the thought of genuine care despite Monty's wrong assesmwnt of Edwin's feelings that changes him.

All Monty wanted was to be cared for. Whatever consideration Esther has for him seems more of the consideration someone has for a useful tool at her disposal. But not Edwin. Edwin cares.

It tells us a lot about Edwin too! Edwin, who says "I am not good with people", Edwin, who protested at Crystal joining the agency because she alive, Edwin, who insisted the living are messy. Yet, up until it's revealed Monty betrayed him, he clearly cares so much, taking his case despite it clearly not being top priority. Because he wants to be Monty's friend, even if he can't love him back.

I also think that, if it wasn't for Monty bringing up Charles and making Edwin feel defensive, Edwin would have forgiven him right then and there. I mean like, just look at his face when he asks Monty if he was just pretending to be his friend and Monty says: "At first, yes! But then, no."

Edwin sympathizes. Edwin forgives Simon for killing him and dooming him to Hell. I don't believe for one second he wouldn't be able to forgive Monty if he knew even a fraction of what he endured by Esther. About how little choice he had in the entire matter.

It's really unfortunate they don't get more scenes together because I feel like they changed each other sm in only a matter of days? Weeks? That they had together. Edwin learned to be more open towards things that are not purely rational, ie astrology, and more importantly, he was learning how to open up, and share his interests with people who aren't Charles. As much as I love Charles, he clearly isn't as interested in reading and literature as Edwin is and that's okay! But Edwin had someone to express that side of himself with, who could reciprocate and open new things for Edwin.

I actually do believe that, under different circumstances and with more time, Edwin could have returned Monty's feelings. Which makes the whole thing more tragic, but alas.

Another interesting thing that occurred to me is that both Monty and the Cat King die by the hands of Esther and her cane when they admit to their love for Edwin. Which, I think, once again symbolizes how those feelings are just too big for the state they are currently in. For the Cat King, that love tirns him more mature and somber. For Monty, it's too overwhelming, and he turns back to his old state, unable to handle them. And yet-even in that form, he cannot deny them, not when Edwin is screaming and he has a chance to help Charles free him. Because as much as we try to go back to how we were before, love, even through heartbreak, changes us.

And Simon-Simon also changes forms after accepting his love for Edwin. He quite literally earns his redemption after it. And Charles? Well, Charles comes out of hell, his shirt back to bright red, because Edwin's love uplifted him sm.

Edwin Payne, truly the man that inspires devotion in everyone he meets

[harkerriver]

It was funny how far a little training went. Even though she was naturally pretty thin and lived in the woods, walking most places, learning to be a hunter had made River keenly aware in the earliest phases of her training just how poor her stamina was. Her health overall was frail and meek due to the fact that her commune didn’t eat meat and all their food was grown organically within proximity to their land. If they had a bad harvest, people got less to eat, and since all food was evenly distributed based on the family size, some days a handful of fruit or berries were considered meals. Desmond had expected her to be fast and able to use her speed in place of the strength she obviously lacked, but as he would come to learn, he was disappointed. She had barely made half the lap before she was breathless and about to faint. 

Now, nowever, she kept pace with ease.  Rene walked kind of fast, and while she took notice, her legs didn’t burn nor did her ankles feel like they were going to snap as she moved in step with him. Desmond would be proud. The thought made her smile a little to herself, as her trainer had quickly become someone she deeply respected in spite of all her screw ups. What he probably wouldn’t be proud of was knowing that she was sidetracked by a boy. Desmond was teaching River a great deal, and one of those things was to be wary of strangers. They were monster hunters, after all, and some monsters, she’d learned, could hide in plain sight. They may have had things that gave them away, but it took a trained eye, and she was only just learning. Still, Rene? River took a not-so-quick look at him, her lips twisting as she assessed him. He was her height, thin to the point of being frail, and all around looked like a pale and sickly Victorian child more than a man. It was impossible that he was a danger to anything more than ants he may crush under his shoes while walking. 

“Uh…pffft…” River paused, walking as her raspberry lingered while she pondered. “ Reading’s okay. I listen to audiobooks sometimes when I’m doing stuff with my hands. Movies are cool too…” She shrugged. She liked movies. They were like a window into other people’s minds, but she had been sheltered all her life and suspected that she often didn’t have the same appreciation for what they were as other people. “ You can learn a lot from movies, y’know? Like, some stuff you may not figure out on your own. Yeah they’re fake and just for entertainment, but some of them really hit hard on the lessons.”

“Ah,” River nodded, listening on as she glued her eyes to the ground before her steps. Her face felt a little hot and her nerves made her blood pump faster as she felt the awkwardness retake it’s position. Topics that were broad and general like movies and TV shows were among some of the easiest things to talk about. Music too, although some people were too passionate about that and got angry at other’s opinions. School however, was new territory. Her education was stunted and severely lacking due to her upbringing, and most of the things she should have known at her age she was only just learning. It was embarrassing that big words and their meaning went right over her head and some words were read or spelled wrong when written down. 

“Yeah, not much for school either,” She noted, hoping the topic would be pushed over for something else. What she got, however, was something that made her freeze. Stopping in her tracks, River made a sharp turn and gave the boy a wide-eyed look. “ What do you mean? Oh, like… Game hunting? Right…” She nodded, wincing mentally at her lack of calm. Just the word hunters made her nervous, which she really needed to work on as well as a dozen or so other social things. It was, after all, supposed to be a secret, but keeping secrets too, was on that long list of things River needed to be better at. 

“Yeah, no… No heads on walls. I’m…kind of a vegetarian.” She admitted. It was half true, as eating meat was not a habit she took part in most of her life, but with her newfound freedom, she’d tried bacon and a hamburger for the experience. While they tasted pretty good, she still wasn’t sure where she stood on the matter. “ I just like… Kinda go with the flow and see where life is taking me. I’m not a ‘school’ person.” She noted with air quotes. “ My attention span isn’t the greatest and I’m not all that smart. Besides, I just kinda got my freedom and I don’t really wanna commit to something so….heavy.” She admitted, even though she understood the irony. Being a hunter was a commitment, but it was also her meal ticket out of a life she loathed. While it had it’s challenges and drawbacks, River hardly thought it compared to cramming and studying for test after test in an old stuffy building.” So like…how old are you?”

Rene made an array of faces as she spoke. He was no sooner surprised that she would exude so much confidence, and it became apparent to him that when she had such a response it was very likely that it was true. He hadn’t believed her any less before, making a simple observation of her excitement and honesty. “Mad skills.” He repeated after her, with no intent except to cement the term in his brain. A chuckle made it light and less a tease, even if it was more of a cover-up for him. It hadn’t taken long to unravel just how behind he was in current communication between those his ‘age’, and he reflected upon just how stubborn time had made him - almost as if he was resistant to the knowledge for others.

If she had been trying to conceal her reasons for training, it would’ve been hard to decipher. Rene would have to dedicate, really focus on the ellipses in her heart and how fast it was beating. It hadn’t slowed much since they met, it spiked nearly every time she spoke and more when she laughed, like every word brought forth some level of exertion in her body. He could have sat and read her responses and tried to figure out if how quick her heart rate was now was matters of a lie or her consistent body full of worry. But his self interest blinded him, and even really if she had been lying, he would have blindly kept on, still. “Yeah, me too. This one’s on me.” He laughed, still lost in his own head.

“You don’t have anything you need to prove to me, I’ve seen your cart I think that was enough for me.” What worry did he really have against this young woman, who even if she’d trained for a time would be able to best his physical abilities? It was so unlikely that she could cause him any danger, and to even hinder the experience by trying to read her felt pointless. Something he kept with himself was always how quickly time moved even still, and he found it much easier to enjoy things as they were in present time. “I like learning.” He added, realizing soon after it needed an after thought. He didn’t want to waste precious time on suspicions when most humans relied on intuition. “What, do you like reading, movies?” Almost as if trying to become one again, leaning on the mortal side of himself Rene listened intently to her words and laid waste to the rest.

“Oh, ah no.” He smiled, and shook his head. He wasn’t lying, technically, having been done with school for some considerable time now. “I finished secondary school, I just haven’t gone back. Not sure I want to.” In truth he loved the course of education, the endless facets of learning. Even now it was something of a fixated interest. “I’m a freelance writer.” He lied. “I try to keep up and practice, like it’s a muscle or something.” Rene glanced over and smiled, even if most of the time her head was crooned to the cobblestone below, avoiding eye contact. “They have some great art centers around here, and this huge bookstore they made from this old, derelict building, some museums.” He smirked, a smart look as he turned his head to her attention. “There is kind of an outdoorsy museum for hunters, you know? But you don’t strike me as a taxidermy type of person. I just don’t see you with giant deer heads on your walls, I don’t know, I could be reading you wrong.” He shrugged. “What about you, are you in school?”

[muddyorbsblr]

a heart like yours part 1: the mission

Summary: You're on a mission with Steve, Wanda, Natasha, and Loki to apprehend a healer who's been performing extreme acts of vigilante justice. Your altercation with her makes your life take a turn for the worst.

Pairing: Steve x Reader; Loki x Reader (eventually)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: cringe bf Steve and his god-awful nickname for you, childish petty jealous bf Steve, angst [let me know if i missed anything!]

"Hold on, so why are you going on this mission with the rest of them? And Romanoff, too?" Tony asked Steve, who was currently briefing the entire team on the mission that would start in the morning. "I mean okay I understand Rock of Ages and Maximoff because they have magic that can fight against this…what does she call herself again? The Sin Healer? Can I just say? Terrible name." 

"Craptastic," you butted in, leading Tony to bump fists with you. 

"And you," Tony pointed your way. "I understand you going. You speak the language like a local. But your boyfriend here?" He pointed at Rogers. "And Romanoff?" He pointed Nat's way. "I don't get it. You're better off replacing yourself with Thor on this one, Capsicle." 

"I can assure you that I can keep Lady Y/N safe, Steven," Thor spoke from his chair, munching on a pop tart and effectively getting crumbs everywhere. It was a godsend that the staff were so efficient in the tower or else he would've caused an ant problem years ago. "You have my word that between my brother and I, we'll bring her back in one piece for you. Isn't that right, Loki?" 

"That is correct, Brother. What ever magic this Sin Healer wields, I should be able to deflect it with no issue. I will stay close to Y/N and ensure that she will not be in any grave danger." He gave you a soft smile that you couldn't help but return, causing Steve to let out a barely audible groan. Despite all your reassurances throughout the eight months that you'd been together, Steve still maintained quite the sour attitude when it came to Loki's very obvious soft spot for you.

You were the only one that he didn't speak to with an air of superiority, as if he was looking down on you, as if he saw you as someone with an inferior mind. And you were also the only one who didn't treat him like he was a time bomb set to go off if you so much as breathed wrong around him. 

That, and he called you by your first name. With the exception of his brother, Loki only ever called everyone by their last names. 

The thought of him protecting you grated on Steve's nerves something bad, and he'd never tell you, but that was the only reason he assigned himself on this mission. It was no secret to him that you liked the god, perhaps even held a tiny crush on him when he moved into the Tower two years ago, something that you'd never admit to so he never bothered asking you. 

But what was also no secret to him that was for some reason completely oblivious to you, was that the god had feelings for you. Maybe even loved you. 

Despite what the rest of the team might think, he wasn't some naive old-fashioned "howdy how do you do ma'am" rootin' tootin' naive boy from the 40s anymore. He put in the effort to adjust and understand the world around him. And that included the cues that anyone displayed, human and god alike, when they were hiding their feelings. 

"I will go and I will stay close to Y/N," he insisted, reaching over and weaving his fingers through yours. "We're gonna be fine, babe." He really said it more to himself than to you, but it got you to send that smile his way, and that was enough. "Natasha and I are joining this mission because the Sin Healer can turn people into her own personal puppets and with the power she's been displaying, she might have a troop at her disposal. Those who aren't going will stay in the Tower on comms to assist remotely. As for the rest of us? We leave at 0500 hours." 

You barely slept that night, thinking about various strategies that you could employ to weave your way through the crowd and smoke out the Sin Healer.

Honestly the biggest atrocity at the moment was that sad excuse for a villain name. If she wanted to sound menacing she shouldn’t have tried to sound like she was Christ Incarnate—

"Y/N, Couchie, go to sleep, I'm begging you. I can hear the wheels in your head turning," Steve grumbled, throwing his arm around you and spooning you. "We have 12 hours to battle plan on the jet, and I don't want you falling asleep mid-flight again. Last time you nearly split your brow on Laufeyson's armor."

You groaned at the memory. No one wanted to take the seat next to him, still acting like he was two steps away from throwing them out the emergency exit doors mid-air, so you parked yourself in the vacant seat, much to your boyfriend's panic and dismay. Next thing you knew,  you were waking up with the raven-haired god holding you in a gentle and cautious embrace, one hand supporting your head, and your faces inches from one another. 

Naturally, you righted yourselves within seconds and pretended nothing happened. Really, nothing did. But it did paint quite the suspicious picture to anybody looking at it from an outsider's perspective. It definitely caused quite the argument between you and Steve the minute you entered your apartment in the tower, with him asking you point blank if anything was going on between you and the Asgardian. 

You two nearly broke up that night. Had it not been for Steve apologizing hours after he stormed out of your place, telling you that Loki himself had approached him and explained that he only held you like that because when the jet hit some turbulence, your head had swayed so dangerously close to the metal adorning his armor and he didn't want you slicing your face open on it.

"I'll just make sure I don't fall asleep next to Loki then," you retorted. 

"Just try to sleep, baby," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

You tried. You failed. Something in you had a niggling feeling that this mission would end badly for at least one of the members of the team. 

And a large part of you felt so conflicted because instead of worrying about the well-being of yourself or your lover, or even your friends Nat and Wanda. No. Instead you found yourself foolishly worrying about undoubtedly the most powerful person on this mission. The thousand-something year old god who could probably perform this mission in his sleep, the one who didn't need worrying over. 

That silent unnecessary worrying was what led to where you were now, head leaned back against the wall of the Quinjet, strapped in as secure as can be (maybe a touch too tight for comfort) thanks to your overly cautious boyfriend, trying desperately to catch some winks while you and Steve waited for the rest of the team to board. 

"I told you to sleep earlier," he gloated in a tone similar to that borderline annoying 'more superior than thou' tone that he used in that star-spangled PSA. 

You felt someone occupy the seat next to you. "Hey, Couchie." You groaned at Nat's teasing. Everyone who knew the nickname Steve had taken to calling you had their opinion on it. It was atrocious. And you had to agree. 

Unfortunately he insisted that the name would stick, continually using it with his soft voice and puppy dog eyes. He said that he came up with the name because as a kid he always preferred to sleep on the couch because it was the more comfortable than his own bed, so couches were a haven for him, a place that reminded him of safety. Security. Home. "That's how I feel with you. So I guess you're stuck with it," he explained back then with a sweet smile on his face. 

And stuck with it you were. As cute as the backstory was for it, the only thing you held on to was he liked to fall asleep on couches. So did that mean that I bring him to sleep? you thought to yourself once. You didn't know whether to be flattered or offended. 

"You wanna use my shoulder as a pillow or should I empty my seat so that Laufeyson can stay here instead?" Your eyes shot open to glare daggers at the master assassin, who had a smirk on her face as she stared at you right back. "He even stashed the metal on his suit to wear later when we actually land. Pretty sure he did that for you." 

You groaned again. A few months after Loki moved into the tower, you had a few too many drinks with her and Wanda, letting slip that you found the god "devastating infuriating panty-dropping levels of attractive". They relentlessly teased you now every opportunity they had, and that incident with you falling asleep on him was just the cherry on top.

But what really fueled their jokes was something unknown to you. Shortly after you started dating Steve, the two women had stumbled upon the god asleep in the library and Wanda had the devious idea to try reading his mind. He was dreaming of you, dancing with you and whispering confessions of undying love in your ear. She immediately exited his mind after, and told Natasha everything she saw. 

Natasha stood up and vacated the seat next to you right as Loki stepped into the Quinjet, signaling to the empty seat with her eyes which caused the god to look at her with a confused suspicion. She hid her smile as he took her cue and strapped himself in beside your sleeping form, taking her seat beside Steve, who was now visibly seething at the sight of his girlfriend once again dozing next to the god of mischief. 

"You could've stayed there, instead," he grumbled at his friend. "You and Wanda could've flanked her."

"Flanked who?" Wanda asked as she took the seat beside Natasha. One look in your direction, at the god who was currently eyeing you the way people looked at puppies, and she knew exactly what Steve was talking about. It was as if you were something so precious and deserving of love and he just wanted to hold you. "Oh. I see," she said with a sly grin as she strapped herself in. 

As the Quinjet took off, the sudden jostling of the aircraft forced you to sharply throw your body forward, pulling you away from your leaning position against the metal wall. Had it not been for the seatbelts keeping you strapped in, you would've gone flying through straight into Natasha. But then they all watched as your body recoiled against the straps and your head throw back towards the wall again.

The three Avengers sitting on the other side of the aircraft watched as Loki leaned over and put his hand up to catch you before your head hit the wall and you awoke with a sharp gasp as he did so, your eyes widening as you saw that, once again, your faces were inches away from one another.

"You nearly knocked your head on the wall," he explained, keeping his voice even as he pulled away from you. "You need to be more careful where you fall asleep, Y/N. There may not always be someone to catch you." 

"I'll keep that in mind," you answered softly as you kept your eyes front, noticing that your boyfriend was currently looking at you with simmering jealousy. 'What?' you mouthed. He merely pouted and turned to look away from you. "Child," you murmured to yourself.

"He is," Loki spoke in a low, hushed voice. Had you not been seated so close together you wouldn't even be able to hear. "You're far too good for him, darling. You deserve a partner who would at the very least check on you instead of sulk as if he were a toddler in a soldier's body." 

You pursed your lips to keep the chuckle from escaping. But you nearly choked on your own spit at his next words.

"And  you most definitely deserve better than someone who would call you such an atrocious moniker. A woman like you deserves to be likened to sirens. Muses. Goddesses. Not furniture."

You were grateful you weren't drinking anything because otherwise it would have most likely sprayed the three people sitting across from you. You let out a few wheezy chuckles before composing yourself and sitting back upright. 

"I overstepped," he murmured. "Apolo--"

"Don't apologize," you whispered back. "It was funny. And you're more than welcome to poke fun at the name. I do." 

You struggled to keep your tone light, your mind lingering on his words. Sirens, muses, goddesses. Did he really see me like that? You hoped he did, you always hoped he did. But you'd also always known better than to hold on hope for the impossible. 

And Loki Laufeyson loving you back? Yeah. That was impossible. 

That was precisely why you chose to say "Yes" to Steve asking you out in the first place. 

It was another ten hours before you landed in Sorsogon. There was a clearing that was just large enough for the Quinjet to land in, about two miles away from the nearest cluster of houses. You all walked towards the little cottages cautiously, trying to stay hyper aware of your surroundings just in case the Sin Healer had puppeteered some unsuspecting villagers to be her foot soldiers. 

Once you reached the cluster of cottages, Steve spoke up. "There are six cottages. Let's all take one each and take the last one together?" 

His instructions infuriated Loki. What ever happened to "I will go and I will stay close to Y/N"? Now he sent you into an old cottage in the middle of practically nowhere all on your lonesome? He decided to enter the cottage closest to the one you chose so that if you needed backup he would come sprinting, keeping true to his word last night of keeping close to you and ensuring that you weren't in any grave danger.

When he was satisfied that there were no signs of life in the small house, he exited the cramped structure and made his way over to yours. He already knew that the other houses were empty thanks to the benefit of his heightened senses, but a selfish part of him chose not to help your three teammates and instead look out for you in silence.

And then he heard you speak and it was as if he felt his heart stop beating. He listened closely to the conversation, translating what he heard in ease thanks to his Allspeak. 

"Hindi po kita sasaktan," he heard you speak. I mean you no harm. 

"Kilala kita," an elderly sounding woman answered. I know you. "Nakikita kita sa balita kasama mo ang mga Avengers." I see you on the news with the Avengers. "Masmaganda ka sa personal." You're more beautiful in person. "Parang dyosa." Like a goddess.

He smiled to himself. That she was. 

"Salamat po. Kung hindi po masyadong abala para sayo, pwede mo po ba kaming tulungan?" Thank you. If it's not too much of a bother, I was wondering if you could help us?

"Syempre naman. Ano kailangan niyo?" Of course. What do you need?

"May hinahanap po kami. Tawag niya sa sarili niya ay…Sin Healer. Marami na po siyang nasaktang tao." We're looking for someone. They call themselves Sin Healer. They've hurt a lot of people.

"Dumaan siya dito kaninang umaga. Kaya lumayas na ang mga kapitbahay ko. Nanatili lang ako dahil…matanda na ako, tumanda akong mag-isa. Wala na akong mapupuntahan."They were here this morning. That's why my neighbors ran away. I merely stayed here because I'm old, and I lived my whole life alone. I have nowhere to go.

There was a pregnant pause before the old woman spoke again. "May kalungkutan akong nakikita sa mata mo. Ang kasama mo sa buhay…hindi ikaw ang mahal? At ikaw naman…nasa iba ang puso mo?"There's a sadness in your eyes. The person you're with��they do not love you? And you…someone else has your heart?

"Ang kinakasama ko po…alam ko naman po na nagpapalipas lang siya ng oras sa akin. May iba na syang minahal at…wala na siya sa mundong ito, at inaantay na lang nya na dumating ang oras nya para magkasama na sila muli. At yung minamahal ko…alam ko naman na wala akong pag-asa doon. Walang parte sa akin na may karapatang makatanggap ng pagmamahal nya."  The man I am with…I know that he is only passing time with me. He loves another and…she's gone, and he's only waiting for his time to come so they can be together again. As for the one I love…I know that there's no hope there. There is no part of me that deserves his love.

You sounded like you were on the verge of tears with your last words, and the dull ache in Loki's heart grew sharp and devastating. He burned with rage at Rogers for how dare he simply see you as someone to pass the time with? He loathed the man who thought you undeserving of his attention, his affection. If you were his--

But that is the tragedy of the situation, isn't it? he thought bitterly. She's not mine. Much as I long for her to be.

"Saan ka natuto ng lengwahe namin?" the elderly woman asked. Where did you learn our language?

"Ipinanganak ako dito. Ipinalaki ako dito. May mga kamaganak ako na tiga-Sorsogon." I was born here. I was raised here. I have relatives in Sorsogon. 

"Ibig sabihin pamilyar ka sa sumpa ng puso?" Does that mean that you are familiar with the heart's curse?

A moment of silence passed before you answered in a solemn voice. "Hanggang sa maihayag ang katotohanan, ay mananatili kang parang patay. At pag lumipas ang pitong araw na hindi ka pa nagigising, ay mananatili kang tulog habangbuhay." 

A chill ran down his spine as the words sunk in. Until the truth is revealed, you will remain like the dead. And if seven days passes with the curse unbroken, you will never awaken.

He heard your muffled cries and it was as if his entire world stopped when you whispered, "Ikaw." You. 

"Ang siyang makakagising lang sayo ang siyang minamahal ka ng buong puso. Siya na nagmamahal ng puro at totoo." The only one who can wake you is the one who loves you with their whole heart. The one whose love for you is pure and true.

"Parang sinigurado mo na mamamatay ako." It's like you made sure that I would die. 

And then he heard you through comms. "If anyone copies, I've been compromised. She got me." 

"Y/N?!" Romanoff and Maximoff yelled from their ends. 

Loki heard a thud from inside the cottage, feeling like his own heart had stopped beating as he went off sprinting inside. He had no care for the elderly woman who was now casually walking out the back door plainly within his view. 

His only focus was your nearly lifeless form on the ground.

A/N: Ahhh it's begun! I can't wait to finish writing and share the rest of this story with you all. It was so much fun to write a good bit of this chapter in my mother tongue and weave it in as a plot element. Currently writing an outtake for 'relinquish the crown' but after that I'm diving right into Part 2!

Also a big thanks to @lokisgoodgirl for that nickname. I asked for cringe and you, my friend, DELIVERED. It's so cringe it needs its own warning and I wouldn't have it any other way 🤣

Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @redbluekjw @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958

[helkerskelker]

nobody asked for this but I’m doing this. How (my favorite) Slashers would react to the question “would you still love me if i were a worm”

gender neutral pronouns because i’m not a fan of x readers that aren’t inclusive like that, nothing wrong with them they’re just not for me

Micheal Myers

He’d look at you really funny, granted the mask would still be on, but you can tell he’s judging you.

He’d do his little head tilt because he doesn’t understand

why would you be a worm???

you’re gonna have to explain it to him and even then he might not get it, prepare for a ton of explaining

If (and that’s a big if) he comes to understand your weird question he might not be able to answer. Michael is pretty reserved with any and all emotion and admitting he loves you would be very hard for him to actually do.

If you repeat the question again he’d be like no and that he would squish you, he’d think it’s funny but you’re not a fan of the joke

Jason Vorhees

Again, does not understand the question, like one bit

truthfully he’s probably be really sad if you were a worm!!

like nooo!! he doesn’t want you to be a worm he wants you to be you!

but he would probably still love you if you were a worm tho

he’d get a flower pot and buy you a plant that you could eat and he’s put stones and stuff in the flower pot so you could use them as tables

he’d be real gentle with you and would probably give you light little pets

he would be very scared of crushing you

give this boy a kiss because he’s just about scared himself silly worrying about how he would take care of you if you were a worm

you’re going to have to snap him out of it, remind him you’re not actually a worm

Bubba Sawyer

Of course you would still love you!!

Bubba is a country boy and you cannot tell me he didn’t play in the mud as a kid!!!

He loves worms!

He’d would absolutely take care of you if you were a worm and he’d give you everything a worm needs

He’d become really distraught if his brothers, especially Drayton, overhear you asking the question because they would say they would squish you

Que him slightly crying because he doesn’t want them to squish you!!!! He loves you too much!!

You have to calm him down and reassure him that they aren’t going to squish you because you’re not a worm

he’d still be upset though, and would probably cling to you for a few days until the whole worm thing left his mind

would not trust his brothers around you. I mean he already didn’t but now even more, how could they be so cruel to squish you?!

Poly!Ghostface

What?

No seriously What?

Stu would joke about eating you, meanwhile Billy just straight up says no

Stu would probably actually still love you if you were a worm, but not the way Bubba or Jason would. You’d be like a ant colony his parents bought him when he was like 8 and it just kinda sat in his corner, every once and awhile he’d pick you up and mess with you but that’s about it

Billy would not love you if you were a worm. He wouldn’t wanna date a worm that’s weird.

He’d be a big ol’ Meanie about it too and say he’d feed you to a bird. Jerk.

Don’t get him wrong he loves you now, but he can’t see himself loving a worm even if it was you

Prepare to be teased about it in the coming weeks though, no matter what the occasion wether you’re at school, hanging out with a group of friends or just by yourselves they’re gonna take every opportunity to make a joke about you being a worm.

They’d even call you as Ghostface and make fun of you. These guys are assholes. You can complain into the phone all you want but they’re gonna ask “What’s your favorite scary movie” and proceed to make shitty worm jokes mixed with the titles like “Nightmare on Worm Street” or “Silence of the worms”

They’re bullies but they’re your bullies

Freddy Krueger (1984)

Yes and no? It’s like a mixed bag really. On one hand yeah he’s probably enjoy if you were a worm but on the other hand he’d probably enjoy fucking with you if you were a worm

You probably wouldn’t last a week if you were a worm

Thank god you’re not a worm

I mean this man is a dream demon who has a scene in the movie where there are gross worm creatures coming out of his fucking man titty, so he wouldn’t mind if you were a worm but you wouldn’t be treated very good

The midnight mangler would eat you. Not even joking like Stu, he would fucking eat you.

Better yet he’s do that trick where he’d put you in his mouth and then pull you out of his nose.

What did you expect this man is gross as hell

Billy Lenz

He would eat you.

Brahms Heelshire

This man doesn’t know what a worm is

He’s been inside the wall for so long he forgot what the fuck a worm was

It doesn’t help that even when he was outside as a kid there’s no way his parents let him play in the mud. Playing in the mud was “un-dignified” and “something poor people did”

So he never really experienced worms

You could try to show him, like bringing in one after it rained but it would probably scare him

like WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT

it’s all gross and slimey y/n get rid of it!!

He would cry, he doesn’t like how wiggly it is and if you try to bring it anywhere near him he’s gonna freak out

Safe to say no, he would not still love you if he were a worm he doesn’t like them

Bonus!

June Marie Heisenberg

Created by the lovely @ghost-thot69

Are you high?

What you smoking and where can she get some?

Yes she would still love you if you were a worm, but that’s kinda weird

She’d prefer if you weren’t a worm mostly just cause you know, she can’t kiss a worm

I mean she technically could be she doesn’t want to, unless you’re like an inchworm but then she’s gotta be super careful cause you’re super tiny

She’d build you a tinly little home out of popsicle sticks and would paint it to look like a little cottage and would put it in a flower pot like Jason would

She’d google what worms need to survive and would provide you with all of it because she loves you 💖

[cathrrrine]

The Other Romanoff

1 — NO LIES HERE

At first he thought you were crazy, and then he almost shot you when you tried to convince him otherwise, albeit a little bit too passionately. Then finally, after some long, long deliberation, he took you to a nearby café and you sat down on the furthest seat next to the window.

"How do I know you're not a psychopath?" Sam barely moved a muscle since we sat down, minus the part where he turned his head to talk to the waitress. He got himself an iced Americano and you settled for a cup of steaming hot latte.

"Would a psychopath get this far?" You sipped on your drink carefully, the warm liquid trickling down your throat with heavenly satisfaction. "Plus, I think a psychopath would've at least pulled some shit at this point."

"That's what a psycho would say."

You smiled at him playfully, "Only the best ones."

He leaned forward, crossing his arms and placing them on the table so his eyes were level with yours. "I still have a hard time believing your story."

A sigh escaped your lips for the thousandth time that day, "Listen, all I know is that I went to sleep in my own room, in my own bed, and then I woke up in a dark warehouse in the middle of nowhere. I tried to find my sister, just to discover that she apparently died. Months ago."

He pursed his lips, trying to piece together the information again. You've retold the story at least three times by now.

"And you're saying you didn't know she died?"

"Sam, I talked to her a few days ago. I know I'm not crazy. Everything here is so wrong and out of place. You didn't even recognise me in the first place!"

"Why?" He scoffed. "Should I have recognised you at all?"

"Yes!" You groaned, anger and frustration boiling in your chest. "Sam, this is what I mean. You're one of my best friends. We fought together in Monaco, don't you remember?"

A bewildered look crossed his face, "No offense, but I've never seen you before in my whole life."

A part of you cringed as you heard him say those words. It felt awkward and inappropriate. Even though you knew in your heart it wasn't really your Sam, he still looked and talked like him, and hearing him say that hurt, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

"Not gonna lie, that one stung." You pulled back, leaning backwards so you were slouched in your chair.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what else to tell you." He shrugged. "Unless you can prove it all to me in some way, I don't know if I can trust you."

Trust you. His words echoed in your head, bouncing around aimlessly off the walls of your brain before the wildest idea struck you.

"You do trust me. So much that I know almost all your secrets." You slammed my hands on the table, hoping your plan would work.

"That's creepy."

"I know. That's why it's going to work. No one in their right mind could make this up." You started, "When you were twelve, you ate a snail because you thought it would make you super-slow."

It was a shot in the dark. Who knew if your Sam and this Sam were even the same? There was a slim chance that they both shared the same lives, but you had to try.

His eyes widened, then they narrowed. "How the hell did you know that?"

Before he had a chance to ask another question, you cut him off. "When you were fifteen, you had a crush on a girl named Alicia and when you tried to ask her out to prom, you puked all over her shoes."

"Hey-"

"When you were nineteen, you wanted to be a professional dancer and enrolled in a dancing class, only to find out it was a ballet class for eight year old kids at the very last second." You paused for a moment to cringe playfully, "Embarrassing story by the way."

"That was not what happened-"

"And," you held a hand up, palm facing him. "You got beat up by Ant-Man once. Scott never stopped talking about it ever since."

The last one seemed to have shocked him more-so than the other ones. "How did you know that?"

"I was there."

That got his attention. "No, you weren't."

It was a frustrating game to play, retelling all the stories that only you or anyone close enough to him would know so that he would believe you. You nodded your head at him, trying to convince him of your truth.

"Yes, I was!" You exclaimed, earning a few glares from the table opposite you. You sent them a small apologetic smile before resuming your debate with Sam. "I was there. There was a breach at the Avengers Headquarters and you went to check it out. Scott shrinked down and ripped out all the wires in your pack. I was the one in your headpiece!"

The ice in his untouched drink had melted, creating a layer of unstirred water on the surface. Below the glass was a very prominent and newly-made ring on the wooden table, caused by the lack of a coaster. You felt like the drink somehow. Cold, and very close to your limit of having a meltdown.

"Prove it." He said, finally. "What did I say to you?"

"You told me to never let Natasha find out about it or else she would've never let you you live it down."

You thought that would seal the deal. That event only stayed between the two of you and Scott Lang. How else could you have known that?

"You're wrong." He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing yet again in confusion. "It was Cap."

What?

"I told the agent in my earpiece to never let the Captain find out about it. Not Natasha. And you were wrong about it all! I ate a ladybug, not a snail, because I thought it would make me fly. I asked Deanna out, not Alicia, and I got sick all over her shoes. And it wasn't a ballet class, it was a tap-dancing class!"

You slumped in your seat. You were right about one thing — this Sam and your Sam did not share the same lives. Similar, but not the same.

"Which is why," he raised an eyebrow, his face contorted into an expression that you couldn't decipher. "I believe you."

Your head snapped up, "Are you serious?"

"Yes. No one knew anything about those stories. A psycho couldn't possibly have access to that information because it's not written down anywhere, and a mind-reader wouldn't get all those details so incredibly inaccurately."

A flicker of hope lit up inside your chest, and comfort filled your being as he flashed you another one of his smiles, this one being much, much friendlier and familiar.

"I believe you, Y/N. As crazy as it all sounds." His hand reached out to grab his drink, stirring the coffee with his straw. The layer of ice-water quickly dissolved within milliseconds. "Now we just need to figure out how to solve this."

———

You ditched the truck you had stolen and hopped inside Sam's car instead. It was much more comfortable and it didn't make an unpleasant clanking noise every time you hit the brakes.

It felt oddly safe to be in his presence, like you were home, even though you were far from it. Maybe it was because of the fact that you weren't as alone as you were before, now that you had at least someone believing your story.

The ride was silent. Neither of you felt the need to talk. But then a very disturbing thought crossed your mind, and you had to ask the question you weren't sure if you wanted to hear the answers to.

"Sam," your voice was quiet. "If...if Natasha is dead. Who else is?"

He didn't respond for a good minute, and you wondered if you could take back the question and go on living without it. You weren't sure if you could move on from the impending answer. It could only be bad if he didn't reply right away, plus, he had that look he only wore when he had to deliver bad news.

"Tony. Vision." he gulped, "Steve isn't dead, but he's....he's not the Captain anymore."

It was like he had forcefully fed you rocks, no, boulders. Your heart dropped to your stomach at the sound of each of their names. Tony, one of your most treasured friends, was dead in this world. The man was like a father to you. It hurt just to even think about the fact that the version of him here was just...dead. And Vision was gone as well...God, how was Wanda? You wondered how they all died and how everyone else who didn't was doing.

Then your thoughts drifted to Steve. Steve Rogers, the man who basically trained you as an Avenger alongside Natasha. You'd even actually considered him to be like a brother to you, after all you've been through.

You couldn't bare the thought of it. All of it. But deep down, you needed to know.

"What do you mean he's not the Captain anymore?"

Sam sighed, a long deep breath that made his chest contract and constrict. "It's a long story."

You put your feet up on the dash, leaned back in the seat of your chair and put your hands behind your head. "We've got the time."

He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow as if to reconfirm what you said. You answered it with a single nod.

"Tell me everything."

[herherteartear]

blanket kick

précis— Peter's not the suave man he would hope to be in front of his crush. instead, he's a blushing mess that haunts his memories and causes him to take out his frustrations on his blanket. luckily, you prefer cherry cheeks over smooth lines any day.

pairing— Peter Parker x enhanced!maximoff!reader

a/n— this is my first standalone written story and my first time writing for marvel! i hope you guys enjoy thisss<3 i'm also open to creating drabbles to continue this if anyone's interested????! pls enjoy and pls comment and let me know ur thoughts!!!

there are many ways to describe Peter Parker, but none could ever wholly capture the true essence of the boy

besides the obvious stuff,, his intelligence , his insanely good looks , his teenage awkwardness,,

it was a hard feat to string along words to describe the way he carries himself , the way he is with others , the way his heart loves with the same ability a sponge soaks up water and soap

Peter's had crushes before

perhaps more than he'd like to admit

(can't blame the boy, who gave Ty Lee the right be that cute!?)

but when he sees her, his heart begins to swell and suddenly, he forgets how to breathe..

or how to think... talk. y'know normal human stuff

in all honesty, Peter has tried his absolute hardest to block out their first meeting from his memories

he doesn't regret meeting her, of course not! never would he even repent that embarrassingly wonderful day

he only wishes it would've gone a little differently

let's set the scene, shall we?

the sun was shining brightly, the sky was a Carolina blue, the clouds were the prettiest porcelain color, rimmed with lace

Peter was riding in an awfully silent car that Happy was driving to the airport. despite being terrified of what's to come,, the fight Mr. Stark had recruited him for,, the boy was thoroughly enjoying this adventure.

the car came to a stop, which did little for Peter's nerves. he gathered his courage before stepping out, eyes squinting at the brightness of the yellow sun. once his eyes adjusted, they landed on the prettiest head of hair he had ever seen

(although he did think the same for Hermione Granger)

Peter had never been on a plane before that day. but even then, his sparkling eyes stayed trained on her,, completely ignoring the brilliant private jet behind her

"oh? Happy, i thought it was just us?" her voice made Peter's ears burn. he swallowed thickly. you blinked at Peter, curious but also intrigued , you smiled.

to which Peter choked. on air. your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"a-are you okay?"

"god, kid, get ahold of yourself."

"i-i'm okay! it's– i'm– i'm fine!" Peter quickly stuttered out.

"well, Yn, this is– uh,, what's your name again?" Happy turned towards the boy who's cheeks were now redder than a firetruck.

"oh! i'm Peter– Peter Parker. it's nice to meet you- not that i don't know you. well i don't, y'know not personally. but like from the news.. not that i believe the news! they're awful to you, but i mean i guess i do sometimes– but never about what they say about you–"

"i'm Yn Maximoff. it's nice to meet you too, Peter." you cut him off before Happy strangled the cute boy. you had an amused smile

he was cute

finally getting on the plane, Peter had hoped he would be able to sit far away from you and wallow in his embarrassment,

maybe sneak a glance or two.. imagine a couple of scenarios where he wasn't a doofus,

but that's not quite what happened.

after witnessing just how much the new kids was able to ramble,, Happy was not about to spend a whole ass plane ride remotely close to him

so he took it upon himself to make the kiddies sit together.. much to Peter's dismay.

like!!? did Happy not see how Peter crashed and burned in font of you?!

you, on the other hand,, had the opposite reaction.

being the youngest avenger, you don't get to be around people your age too much,, which isn't something you're complaining about!!

you totally made the decision to be an avenger and you happily welcomed the consequences..

that didn't mean you didn't get lonely at times. especially now with the accords and the team breaking up., things got a whole lot more lonely

your sister, Wanda, had made her choice to leave the compound. you completely understood why, but a part of you had hoped she would've taken you with her

although, staying at the compound did ensure your safety.

it was a weird time for the avenger's , it felt wrong for you to say some of your teammates were criminals

it left a sour taste in your mouth

you glanced from the window seat to see Peter nervously wringing his fingers. you frowned.

"are you okay?" you asked, gently. Peter's eyes widened and his heart jumped to his throat. he wanted to say something, something cool or aloof, something that would make up for his ranting earlier

"i've never been on a plane before." Peter squeaked out. he dropped his shoulders, rolling his eyes at himself. that was the highest pitch he had ever heard his voice. you took in his clearly anxious posture.

"lets switch seats? maybe looking out the window will help you." you stated. before Peter could quickly shake his head, because how rude would it be of him to take your seat?, you were already stood up.

"oh god!" Peter breathed. he quickly shifted over to the seat you once occupied. he wanted to put up more of a fight, but the way you were swaying due to the turbulence, made his palms sweat in fear for your safety.

"you, like, swing from buildings and stuff, right?" you asked. he turned to you with a nod. "are you afraid of heights? or do you just not like planes?"

oh god. oh. no. you thought– you thought he was scared of being on the plane. Peter wanted to shrink in a hole and hide. you probably thought he was such a baby! that he could handle swinging from hundreds of feet in the air, but a plane is where he drew the line?

but what else is he supposed to say? 'oh, no! it's not the plane I'm scared of. it's just your beautiful smile and the way you smell like cocoa that gets me sweating'

wtf.

that was so wrong in so many ways.

"um, no, no. i'm okay, just– just a little nervous, is all." Peter tried to force out a chuckle. but it come out more like a cough. you mouth formed an 'o.'

"ohh, okay." you paused before your eyes lit up. "how about we play a game? to distract you?"

"o– okay.."

"can you talk with spiders?" Peter lifted his eyes from looking at his hands hovering above yours,; he let out a much more relaxed laugh than earlier.

you took advantage of his distraction to swiftly bring your palm from underneath his and slap the top of Peter's hand. he jumped.

"ouch!" he playfully pouted. you eyes glanced down at his lips. you giggled nervously. your hand went to hover over his, him now being the one to do the slapping. "of course i can't talk to spiders! i– i feel like i should probably be able to shape-shift into a spider in order for that to happen, y'know?"

you nodded thoughtfully. "that's true.. you didn't hear this from me, but i heard there's an Ant-Man going around." Peter looked at you with wide eyes.

"no way! that's crazy! does he like turn into an ant?" you bumped his hand with yours in order to get his attention back to the game. his hand burned at the feeling

"i don't know-" you said in a singsong tone. "it's just what's being said around the compound." you quickly slid your hands to avoid Peter's attack. he huffed.

"how are you so good at this?" he knitted his eyebrows to focus on how to attack quickly without hurting you.

"it's a game i used to play with my brother and sister." you answered. Peter finally took his chance to slap your hands, to which you squealed excitedly as you had tried to move in time. Peter and you fell into a fit of giggles.

you both leaned against your seats, still facing each other. your hands fell on top of Peter's.

the brown haired boy quickly slid his hand out from under yours, not because he didn't enjoy the contact, but because he was worried you'd feel how clammy his hands were

you frowned slightly at the loss of contact.

"a– are we really fighting your sister?" Peter wondered out loud, without a second thought.

you shifted uncomfortably. Peter quickly noticed; his heart sped up and he mentally scolded himself for being so inconsiderate.

"not because i think she's evil! i mean,, i know that's what the news says.. but they also think Spider-Man's like thirty. and i'm not thirty! its just everything's crazy right now.. with the accords., i can't even imagine how you're feeling! probably terrible.. oh, g od wait, not terrible, i'm s–"

you had been watching with an endearing look in your eye. you had come to find that you enjoy watching Peter ramble.

his eyes would become unsettled and shaky, his body would begin to become more and more animated, but his voice

gosh, his voice was something you wanted to listen to for the rest of your life

but you could tell he was getting more and more skittish. so you put him out of his misery

"terrible probably wouldn't be my go-to word, it's up there though.. at least i got to meet you." you smiled softly.

Peter's eyes ran over your soft features. night had fallen, so the windows of the plan displayed an almost picturesque display of the moon and stars. the light hue of color the moon provided painted your face in a way that clouded Peter's thoughts.

with your comment of being grateful to have met him, Peter wasn't in control of his mouth for much longer.

"so pretty." he breathed. both of you guys froze.

Peter's face quickly morphed from love-sick to mortified. you blushed violently.

deciding you didn't want Peter to fall into another rant-like apology (because if you got to listen to him talk for that long in this setting, you might just drop the 'L' word) , you said,

"let's watch a movie?"

the two of you sat, shoulder to shoulder, watching Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, but being too hyper aware of their thighs pressed together and brushing hands to actually pay attention

upon arrival, both teenagers walked off the plane, sleep deprived , but with thumping hearts and dazed grins.

Peter threw himself on his hotel bed that night,, hiding under the covers

his thoughts replayed your interaction over and over (and over and over) in his head

the boy shoved his head, face first, into the stiff hotel pillow and let out a muffled groan

Peter flipped himself over, stared at the ceiling, before remembering his spouts of unnecessarily long explanations

he thrashed his body, kicking his poor blanket in frustration but most of all, out of embarrassment

he calmed himself down once his memories refreshed themselves over your gentle giggles and how soft your hands were

Peter fell asleep with cherry red cheeks and a blissful grin.

because despite those small mess ups, despite the futile way he beat his covers in humiliation, Peter treasures that day like no other.

[sidespromptblog]

What to Do?: Chapter 5

One, Two, Three, Four, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Warmings: Angst, Logan says some hurtful things (He doesn't mean it), General Anxiety (Virgil), and thoughts of ducking out.

Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?

Word Count: 2,552

Virgil had really had enough of all of this. 

The thoughts of his own head bludgeoned him from every side, anxiety crawling its way through his veins and making him itch all over. It was like he had just stepped into a bed of ants, and there was no way to make it all stop. 

So he’d had enough of it. 

Honestly he had, there was only so much he could take of Patton’s sad looks, Roman’s withdrawn attitude, and his own dour feelings that made him not feel in control of his own emotions. And before he even knew it, it was all going to be way too much for him to handle right now. Ordinarily, when things got like this… Logan was there to help him out of it, Logan was there to make sure that he looked at the actual facts and not the lies that he was telling himself and Thomas. 

But that wasn’t exactly possible now was it?   

Logan didn’t want them around, or in the very least he didn’t want them… period. 

But he needed help, he was man enough to admit when he was clearly in over his head when it came to his own anxiety. Usually he could handle things on his own, he usually knew what to expect when it came to his own fears, and he usually knew how to easily combat them. But right now… he really did need help with this, he needed a calm confident voice that would help him see the truths behind every scary thing that his mind was trying to conjure for him. Patton and Roman were too emotionally distraught for him to even think about going to, his own fears would just add onto theirs and just make everything so much worse for all of them. There was no way that he could tell them, let alone unload onto them. 

He needed someone who was smart enough to help.

He needed someone who was calm in the face of danger.

He needed…

He needed…

“Logan.” Virgil mournfully whispered to himself, wishing it were almost anyone other than the one side who wanted nothing to do with them. Of course it would have to be him… 

But considering how desperate he was… he could swallow his pride for the time being and ask for help. 

He could totally do that… 

Logan had even said in the past, that should he need some help in seeing past cognitive distortions then he could always go to Logan’s room to relax. The logical side’s room had that effect on him, bringing everything into focus and clearing his head out of everything that had tried to distract him before. He’d even once attempted to start learning how to knit in Logan’s room, as the pursuit of curiosity and knowledge had led him to cracking open a few books in his spare time. He’d only realized that it had been several hours later when Logan finally managed to drag him to dinner, when he could have sworn he’d just had breakfast almost an hour ago. 

He could go there… Logan had said that he could go there. 

He wasn’t breaking any boundary with Logan, not when the other had specifically given him permission to do something. 

Closing his eyes Virgil attempted to concentrate on sinking down from his own room, and rising up into Logan’s. He waited, trying to feel the sensation of calmness that was supposed to overcome him from just stepping inside of Logan’s room, and he waited…

There was nothing. 

Opening his eyes, Virgil felt something inside his chest seize abruptly at the realization that… he wasn’t inside Logan’s room, nowhere close in fact. He was in the hallway upstairs, one that didn’t even lead to Logan’s room.

Clenching his fists, he tried again. 

And again. 

And again. 

And… again. 

Everytime, nothing happened. He remained in the same spot that he had opened his eyes to, Logan’s room was nowhere in sight and he was nowhere closer to being calm. If anything he was the exact opposite now, an old fear rearing its ugly head at him. 

“Logan!” Patton had scolded the logical side, a hurt look on his face as he clutched the picture book in his hands. “Can you stop?” 

Logan had taken a step back, an equally if not more hurt look darting through his eyes, before he thought to cover it up. 

But Virgil had seen it. 

“Fine…” Logan had said, giving Virgil only the tiniest of glances before he sunk down and out of sight.

Ducking out. 

No… no no no! 

There was no way that Logan would have ducked out, no way on earth. He had promised Virgil that he wouldn’t, and Logan knew that he was too important to just go away like Virgil had before. He knew that Thomas would be a mess without him… didn’t he? 

Didn’t he..?

A sour taste coated Virgil’s tongue in an instant, “Logan!” He barked out, his voice shifting to match his rising anxiety, the eyeshadow around his eyes darkened to the point that it nearly reached the middle of his cheeks. He looked like someone had taken a handful of black powder and smeared it down the sides of his face, and truthfully… he looked awful. “Logan!” He tried again, forcing the tremor out of his voice and a layer of calm that he most certainly did not feel in that moment. “Where are y-” 

His voice choked for a moment, as he found himself blinking back tears that were attempting to rise up. 

Honestly, he had never known how much he would miss Logan if the logical side truly attempted to duck out like he had. Logan was stubborn, this proving it more than anything, and he wouldn’t be swayed like Virgil had been… at least not so easily. So if Logan ducked out… it was probably going to be permanent.

They would have no chance of-

“Did you need something Anxiety?” 

Virgil’s head snapped up so quickly he was sure that he had pulled some kind of muscle, he had never been more happy to hear his old title than he did now. Before him stood Logan, a handful of paperwork in his hands and the kind of expression that told the anxious side that he was both bored but also exhausted as well. It truly surprised him how badly he wanted to reach forward and pull that stupid logical side in for a hug, that was usually Patton’s thing… 

But still he refrained. 

Coughing into his hand Virgil looked away for a moment, “I couldn't rise up into your room,” He tried to explain in such a way that wouldn’t make him feel like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar. “So I got worried…” 

Something inside of Logan softened for a moment, as he took in Virgil’s words.

Like a scrap of paper pulling apart from being submerged in water, he felt himself loosening up a little upon noticing Virgil’s rather distressed expression and the caked on eyeshadow that seemed to be receding now that he was here. It was fairly clear that the anxious side needed some kind of help, that being the reason he was trying to rise up in Logan’s room to begin with… but it also being the same reason Logan had barred all of them from entering to begin with. He couldn’t just let them walk in whenever they wanted to, and corner him where he was supposed to be safe. He couldn’t… he couldn’t let them come in, and try to change his mind. And he most certainly couldn’t let them come in and let them see how much he would have wanted them to stay.

Doing so would be giving them the opportunity to just use him, walk all over him again, and then immediately forget about him once they didn’t need him. 

Truthfully he was very touched that Virgil had worried for him, and even more so that his first instinct was to make sure that he was alright.

But...

He had lost his footing when it had come to Janus, and if he really wanted to go all the way and not slip up again… he needed to double down on it, and not let up for a single second. But in order to do that…

Logan looked back at Virgil, seeing the confusion, concern, and the tiny bit of hope that still remained ever stubborn in the anxious side’s eyes. 

He was going to have to break Virgil’s heart. 

“I don’t see why you need access to my room, Anxiety.” Logan began, forcing himself to watch closely as Virgil’s expression started to crumple. “You are anxiety, and I do not believe that it would be beneficial to let you enter Logic’s room whenever you please.” There it was, that small glimmer of hope being ruthlessly crushed with every usage of the other side’s title. The very title that Virgil had clearly forgotten the more that they used his actual name and forgot his title more and more, with this Logan knew that he’d hate himself for this forever. Virgil had been getting better, and Logan had been one of the very first people who had accepted Virgil into the fold before he’d even ducked out. And now… now he was practically throwing that away, for what he hoped to accomplish..

He was a terrible friend, as if he was anyones’ friend anymore. That alone had been his own doing, he had ensured it well and truly. 

Virgil looked like he was on the verge of tears. “Logan-” He began only to cut himself off, as he took in a deep breath forcing the warbling in his voice to quiet. “What can I do?” He honestly asked, hating how much it sounded like he was begging. Holding out his hand his entire expression was begging for Logan to take it, and to let him help with whatever was going on with him. “What can I do to make things better? What can I do to fix whatever I helped to break? Please!”

No… no no no. He couldn’t, he could not. 

It won’t last. No matter what they promise to do, it won’t last for long. They’ll just go right back to how they were before, and you’ll be left feeling stupid and alone. Logan inwardly coached himself over and over again, forcing himself to not take Virgil’s hand to not even look at it. He felt like his insides shaking, just one bad move away from going back to everything he swore that he never would. He had said that this time would be different, and it was going to be whether he wanted it to be or not. 

It was going to be different. 

No more chances. 

No more. 

“You can help,” Logan began, hating himself for the stupidly hopeful look in Virgil’s eyes that he was about to crush again. “By getting this paperwork done, and letting me know specifically on these days that I have listed exactly what you think would be okay in letting Thomas get done. Once I know that, then I can finally get a proper schedule that we can all agree upon. Okay?” 

I hate myself… Logan thought faintly, as each word from him seemed to crush what little spirit Virgil had left. If the anxious side had any more desire to help Logan before, or to continue being his friend… then he didn’t anymore. 

Not after this.         

 Virgil though to his credit didn’t cry, he didn’t even look like he was going to shed a single tear in that moment. He just looked incredibly crestfallen, as he stared back at Logan, before his eyes finally dropped down to the papers that the logical side had given him. 

“Okay…” He finally whispered, his fingers brushing over the crisp corners of the freshly printed papers. “Logan?” Virgil softly asked, “Will this make you happy? Doing this? Acting like this? Becoming this?” 

For a second Logan felt himself stiffen, he wasn’t… he wasn’t becoming anything that the others hadn’t already made him in their minds. He had already been too boring and typical to Roman, so he never even bothered to even try to listen to him anymore. He had been happy when Logan’s schedule hadn’t worked out, because it had benefited him. The same went for Patton, as much as the moral side would try to deny it. He had never understood him, and constantly tried to undermine him when he was attempting to make a point. And Virgil… 

Logan stared back at Virgil, “I will be satisfied, once you get that work done yes. But as for the other things…” He looked Virgil up and down, trying to shove the hurt down as far as it would go. “I don’t think that you have much room to talk about that… Anxiety.” With that being said, Logan turned on his heel trying desperately to tell himself that he wasn’t running away from Virgil’s other questions. “Have a good night.” 

Logan was gone. 

And now Virgil was alone, staring down at the sheets of paper that were steadily getting more and more crumpled as he clenched his fists. His chest heaved, and he tried so very hard to hold in the sob that was curling up inside of him. But even he couldn’t stop the trembling of his bottom lip, and the way that the world through his eyes clouded around him as the tears welled up. Before he even knew it, a tiny whimper fell from his lips, and a smattering of wet droplets landed on the papers that Logan had given him. He felt more alone now than he had in a very very long time, the loss of Logan as a friend felt as if he had ripped out some part of him leaving a big gaping wound in his chest. 

Something inside him told him that he deserved it.

But another part told him that he didn’t know why, even though he had the tiniest inkling as to why. 

Logan was gone… 

Gone.. gone.. Gone..

Gone.

The sob that had been building in Virgil’s chest finally burst free, and without thinking he clutched the bundles of papers close to his chest. As if those very papers were everything that made up Logan, and by holding them close he still had Logan with him. The tears were coming faster now, he could feel the thickness of his eyeshadow running down his face and completely staining his cheeks with dark watery lines. But he didn't care, there was a kind of solace in crying as hard as he was crying. As if letting out all of the emotions he had been building up during the past couple of days was any better than continuously letting it out like Patton was. 

So he cried and he cried. 

Until he felt a firm hand land on his shoulder.

Snapping his head up, Virgil felt his eyes widen exponentially at the person that was standing there just behind him. 

With steely dark eyes staring down at him, Remus looked at him with something akin to pity.

“Hey...”

[aminiatureworld]

A Sea of Fragments V

Word Count: 2,635

Warnings: Swearing

Author’s Note: I don’t know how I went so long without updating! Honestly I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Things are starting to get dramatic, and I’m upping the ante a little bit. As a treat.

Scaramouche exited the dining tent as quickly as possible, storming off towards his tent with urgency. He hated eating around other people; the noise, the insipid conversation, the amount of imbeciles trying desperately to get in his good graces. It was agony, and the sooner he got away from it the better. Besides, he had something vastly more important to do this evening.

Entering his tent Scaramouche took some odd sense of pride from the fact he had beaten you to it. Sitting down in his chair he sighed, propping his head up with his hand and allowing his thoughts to drift for a moment. He had to admit that he was incredibly curious as to what he was going to witness today. He had already gotten a glimpse of your ability during your first meeting, but between the tense atmosphere and the barbed conversation he hadn’t been able to really focus on what exactly you were doing. Your terrible physical state at the time certainly hadn’t helped, as you had looked as if you were going to faint any moment. Scaramouche was glad there would be no fear of that this time.

What must it be like to look into the future? Scaramouche had to admit that he envied your ability slightly. Though you had seemed less than enthusiastic about it, Scaramouche couldn’t believe that you truly begrudged the ability to see into the future. If you did then you were surely a greater fool than he was already aware of. Even with your revelation that it was hardly an exact science as to which future would happen, even the slight ability to see what might come to pass would be an incredible asset to the Tsaritsa and her goal.

Besides, Scaramouche couldn’t truly bring himself to believe that your bedraggled state had been solely due to seeing into the future. How much energy could be expended by sitting into a chair and closing one’s eyes? In a world of war and battle and death the idea that something so still could be so taxing was absolutely ridiculous. No, there was no reason for him to worry, or for him not to begrudge you something that was so obvious a blessing from the Seven.

“Scaramouche?”

Your voiced pierced through the air, pulling the Harbinger slowly out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized how engrossed he had been in his own musings, and the sudden pull back to reality cause irritation to once more surface within him. He quickly managed to push it down however, the reflexive annoyance replaced with an anticipation that couldn’t be completely hidden. Gesturing for you to sit in the chair across from him Scaramouche sat up straighter.

“Is there anything that must be done before we begin?” The Harbinger wasn’t used to such pleasantries, but this time he figured it was probably worth asking. Seeing you shake your head he nodded curtly. “Good. Then shall we begin?”

“If you insist,” you mumbled, voice lacking it usual sharpness. The nervous feeling that you emitted the first time he saw you in the forest appeared to have returned from out of thin air, and you shifted in your seat awkwardly.

“Is something wrong?”

“No! No, just, I just need to relax.”

“Take all the time you need.”

You shot him a look with very little behind it. Breathing in deeply you closed your eyes, letting your head tilt backwards slightly. Sitting back in his chair, just realizing that he’d been leaning forward this whole time, Scaramouche watched as your breath began to slow and you appeared to drift into some sort of trance.

 Closing your eyes you willed your mind to emptiness. From the moment you had entered the Harbinger’s tent once more you’d been seized with anxiety. You never wanted to be in this position again, divining for others, taxing yourself over and over for goals and wishes not your own. Not to mention the identity of your current employer; Scaramouche’s Harbinger status aside relaxing in front of this man seemed nigh on impossible. Letting your eyes flit this way and that you didn’t even bother to try and look him in the face. Not when what you were about to do loomed over you.

Looking into the future was bad enough, doing it in front of Scaramouche was even worse. You tended to lose control of yourself while looking into the future. Falling out of furniture, mumbling things randomly, all those things were possible. And though the people in your village had gotten used to your half-trances you were sure that Scaramouche wouldn’t quite appreciate you accidentally faceplanting into the table or sliding onto the ground the way the people you had grown up in proximity to would.

Letting yourself sigh once more you allowed your conscious to fade, shoving aside all those problems to deal with it later. The present would always exist, but for now you had to cast your eyes upon the possible futures. The world darkened around you, turning into a sea of stars which fell down, down, down. Letting yourself tumble around you finally saw fragments begin to form in front of your eyes. Stretching out your hands you reached for the one that seemed to shine the clearest, reached for the best outcome that you could find. Always start with the clearest ones first, for the muddier the fragment, the worse the suffering, the more energy must be expended. It was information that had been extracted after years of trial and error, and now you let it guide you as you sought out what you needed to know.

You were standing in a deadly quiet room. Paper doors surrounded you, the moonlight filtering through them casting long shadows, making it look like you were trapped in an odd sort of prison. If so, it was a very cozy prison. All the hallmarks of domesticity were there; pillows thrown this way and that, books shoved into various nooks and crannies on a small shelf, a table which housed various small clay figures. There was a hallway to the right of you, and from it you could hear the faint sound of snoring. Taking a few steps forward you studied the small shelves hammered into the wall, trying to look for something that seemed to house a great deal of elemental energy. Letting your elemental sight guide you, you slowly turned around.

At the other end of the room was a small table. Upon it was a small red cushion, and upon the cushion was a mirror. The circular glass was surrounded by an emerald frame, dotted with small gems and cracked in certain spots. Though it might have appeared like an ordinary enough family heirloom you could tell that it was infused with power, a power so great it seemed to be leeching the rest of the energy around it, a black hole, warping the fragment around it. Taking a step back, afraid of it even in this imagined future, you felt the energy become even stronger, even more corrosive. Blinking slowly your eyes finally removed themselves from the scene.

Looking around at the other fragments around you, you tried for the next clear fragment. In it you found yourself wandering the streets of the village, right near the inn where you had been hiding out until recently. Although nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary initially you were soon pulled towards the rooftops. You could see a Fatui recruit, though which one you were hardly sure. Clad in black their face was a sharp contrast to the night around them, pale and twisted into a frown.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit. What am I going to tell Lord Scaramouche? Where is it? Where is the damn thing?!” Sighing the Fatui member climbed back down from the roof, something not very difficult as the building was a rather squat one. Running into the night you saw him look back once. The village was as silent as ever.

You pulled yourself back into the liminal space around you. Looking around at the various fragments scattered about you felt yourself frowning. How many there were! It would take ages to find such specific information as where the mirror was located. Letting yourself drift you closed your eyes. You would just have to pick one at random. Reaching out your hand you felt the cool shard of a fragment against your fingertips. Opening your eyes you let out a strangled sort of noise, faced with one of the darkest shards floating around you.

What you were transported too was absolute chaos, chaos and a crushing weight pressing upon you. You weren’t supposed to be seeing this, you really were supposed to be seeing this. Stumbling around you tried to focus on one thing. The noise, that was the best thing at the moment. Ignoring the flames that licked at the houses and ground around you, the fleeing people and the choking smoke, you tried to pick up on any piece of information.

“Did you manage to get it before it went up into flames?”

“Fuck, no I didn’t! Did you see that house? No one would fucking survive something like that!”

“I’m not sure if we’re going to even survive.”

“Fuck, no this isn’t how I wanted it to end. I didn’t even get a promotion.”

“You three! Stop dawdling and get out of here! We’ve already caused enough trouble.”

“The village is a goner anyways.”

“Glad it’s not, fuck, glad it’s not mine.”

The voices faded into the cacophony, quickly replaced with more unpleasant sounds.

“Mama!”

“Did you see my husband?”

“No, I have to get back in there!”

“Your books are a fucking goner.”

“Come on sweetie, you have to move. I know, it really hurts, doesn’t it? Come on sweetie, we’ll get something to make it better, but you have to move.”

Voices piled on top of one another, roaring and mixing together. Opening your eyes you stared as people rushed all around you, some covered in soot, others nursing horrific burns. The noise was louder still, the weight crushing the air out of your lungs. Clapping your hands over your ears you felt your mind start to go blank with panic. You needed to get out of here. You needed to remember how to get out of here.

A muffled sound seemed to reach above you. Looking up into the burning sky you reached towards it, almost as if you might tear through the papery-thin night back to safety. Taking a deep breath you tried to open your eyes, to go back into the space that you usually occupied. But the weight was so large, the distortion so strong, you found yourself trapped, as if in a nightmare. The sound called out again and you continued to reach towards it.

Please. Please.

“…”

 Scaramouche watched as you seemed to collapse in on yourself, tumbling out of your chair and onto the floor, barely missing the table in front of you. Your breathing was ragged, irregular, and you seemed to be trying to say something. Panic gripped the Harbinger, blood rushing to his ears. Pushing himself out of him own chair he knelt down next to you.

“Hey, hey!”

Shaking your shoulders he went to pinch your arm. You skin seemed to be cold to the point of heat, and you made no move of recognition as his nails dug into your arm. Shaking his head Scaramouche tried calling out one more time.

“Wake up. Can you hear me? Wake up!” Shaking your shoulders once more he tried to suppress the panic that seemed to be driving him, though his thoughts were in such disarray he couldn’t be entirely sure whether or not it was working. A myriad of things leapt through his mind; his plan was going to fail, the effort took in tracking you down appeared to be worthless, were you really going to die? Surely you wouldn’t. He needed you for his plans. Besides, the idea of you dying seemed somewhat terrifying, lying in stark contrast to all the other people that Scaramouche had used and thrown away. The idea of your death seemed much more visceral, much more real.

“Hey. Look at me. I told you that you never even look at me. Open your eyes and look at me. Weren’t you supposed to be blessed by the gods? You can’t even look at me.”

Scoffing Scaramouche glanced towards the tent. He was going to have to call a healer at this rate.

The sudden feeling of someone grabbing his wrist caused the Harbinger to hiss. Looking back towards you he found his eyes met with yours. You seemed to be half wild with, something. Scaramouche couldn’t tell what lay behind the look in your eyes, but it surely seemed something close to panic. Breathing heavily you let out a whisper.

“It’s going to tear you apart.”

“What are you talking about?” Scaramouche felt anger rush through him as the situation seemed to crash into him. “Is that normal? What in Teyvat happened.”

“The mirror, the thing, it’s not normal. It… it warps everything around it. I, I can’t go back again. I can’t look again, I can’t find it again. It’s too heavy; it’ll tear everything apart.”

“You’re not making any sense! Tell me, is this mirror what we’re looking for? Where is it?”

But you said nothing, instead letting your grip tighten on Scaramouche’s wrist as you stared at him. The intensity of your gaze seemed to throw cold water on the Harbinger for a moment, and he quieted down. Everything had gone unexpectedly, what was he supposed to do now? A part of him simply wanted to haul you up and push you out of his tent, towards the healers or towards your own tent he didn’t care. Another part of him however wanted to ask you if you were alright, wanted to know what had frightened you so much, wanted to know why now suddenly you were staring into his eyes, almost as if you were trying to divine his thoughts. The more you looked into the future the odder you became, and the more Scaramouche found himself unable to understand you.

“Do, do you need a healer.”

“No. Just, let me breathe, just let me breathe for a moment.”

You closed your eyes, placing one of your arms on top of your forehead. The grip on Scaramouche’s wrist lessened and you let your arm slump to the group, fingers curled slightly against your palm.

Scaramouche wasn’t sure what caused him to do such a thing, whether it was fear of you having another episode or something else. Yet before he was entirely aware of what he was doing he placed palm on top of yours, allowing it to rest there for a moment. Your hand felt warm against his, still slightly clammy from what had just passed. He couldn’t necessarily call it comfortable, but he nevertheless didn’t draw away.

Staring down at you the Harbinger wondered once more what you had seen. More than that he thought about your expression when you woke up. Expression panicked, eyes wide, gaze full of fear and urgency and something else. It seemed to be the first time you had stared him right in the face without hesitancy. Were your expressions always so intense when you looked someone directly into their eyes? It was uncomfortable, but it always also something else, intriguing, or something like that.

He wondered if you would look at him directly again. He wondered if your words were truly worth heeding. And once more he once more wondered why he, a Harbinger, would kneel in the dirt and trampled grass to make sure you woke up.

[sometipsygnostalgic]

adventure time wizard city liveblog

 well here we go

my last adventure time liveblog, i havent actually done one of these in MANY years... probably not since 2014

this takes place at the same time as obsidian?

DID-- DID CHOOSE GOOSE JUST DIE

DID BUFO JUST KILL CHOOSE GOOSE

yeah i know that’s bufo, they only made it enormously obvious, tsk tsk

@spaceacepearl​ joked about us seeing choose goose get sent to hell but i diDNT EXPECT IT TO HAPPEN

This music is i assume by one of the many musical artists Adam Muto listed on twitter, it rocks. It’s not as hardcore as Obsidian’s intro, but it’s suitably chill for the scene. 

“get offa my bus kid”

Those wizards in the left and far right groups appear to be new! 

OH MY GOD--

HELP?????? NEW PROFILE PIC TIME

HAHAHAHAH

THE MUSICAL CON DID ME GOOD, I DID REALLY LOUD AUDIBLE LAUGHTER

i bet hanna and co had fun making these signs

my favourite is the cat with “FAMILIARS HAVE RIGHTS”

cadorka..... wow

We’re not even four minutes into the ep and peppermint butler has already killed someone in front of a large group of witnesses

“this smells of DARK MAGIC” “yall kids know thats illegal right” peps watches the other kids nod before later joining in, LOL

i cant believe pep started the great gum wars and got killed by golb

SOMEONE has been playing Overwatch... 

i-- i still cant believe choose goose is fucking dead

how long was he stuck in hell for, or was that recent to together again after new death showed up 

i have to admit im not a big fan of spader, too perfect, and not in that funny way either. i hope they give him some characteristics that make him stand out. 

im getting flashbacks to OK KO and Owl House here...

Cadebra using music is a reference to Abracadaniel’s love of interpretetive dance in Play Date. 

“they only laugh because youre different” “i know” “SO STOP BEING DIFFERENT” oh my god it’s like talking to my own parents cadebra is actually... a LOT like me, less in her hyperactivity but more in her nonchalant enthusiasm and almost acceptance of the inevitable bullying because it means more time in people’s consciousness

ahhh - it’s quietly revealed here that she is responsible and a skilled magician, she is just bored of magic! i like that she parents abracadaniel instead of being downtrodden by his ramblings. 

PEP NO--- oh i see the problem, he hasn’t got his Bug Milk... sorry Martin Olsen fans, no Hunson today. At least we get one more Phil Face for the road! 

candy people in their natural habitat

Ahhh that’s Doctor Calidoneus! The voice actor was at the recent Distant Lands panel alongside Pep and Blaine’s actors. 

“pretty sure hes just trashcandy” - i like you, sassy antler lady

the mystery of how he gets clothes

and once again spader is proving to be the most irritating distant lands character of the lot, there is no subversion here. where is the subversion?  

NANI

what is going on here? are pep and peppermint the same person or not? im sure they must be, but there is something going on here with peppermint butler’s soul being trapped in the body of his child self who hasn’t got the same memories. 

OH, HYNDEN WALCH DID A NEW LINE yes this is what im here for, special over 

peppermint butler cursed himself... of course he did - Shado was correct!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT THE FUCK

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

ROCK STUDENT, BLESSED ROCK STUDENT, WAS THAT POOR GUY WHO LOOKS LIKE A JAWBREAKER

love the reference to astral plane, of course pep cant astrally project because cursed pep is still inside of him 

wow, blaine, wow

they have a crush

LITTLE DUDE! COLE SANCHEZ!

i love the dynamic between cadebra and abracadaniel, imo so far it’s the heart of the special. im not really gripped by peppermint butler’s school troubles. i imagine someone else probably will be but i want to run past that shit as far as possible. 

TRDGFYGHJH

WE

WE MADE  A PREDICTION THAT WAS JUST LIKE THIS

PEPPERMINT BUTLER GETTING TURNED INTO THE FOUR COMPONENTS OF PEPPER MINT BUTT LURE WAS IN THE WIZARD CITY PREDICTIONS ART DRAW THAT HASNT BEEN POSTED YET

ILL SHOW YOU WHEN NICK POSTS THE VIDEO and then ill tell you who made the prediction because i... think it was nick himself, insanity 

who plagiarized finn’s signature???

turns out pep really DID take over wizard city!!!!

i love this band

i understand your pain peps

you probably have a bit too much in common with your mother, and i imagine it isn’t easy being turned into a kid and not being able to do stuff that came so easy. you’re disappointing yourself! (he’s literally disappointing himself)

I’m less than halfway through the special, what the fuck. I wasn’t wrong when I said Wizard City had a lot on its plate. It’s noit that I’ve been particularly gripped up to this point, though to be fair I didn’t pause at all during the other specials barring Obsidian. 

that... that poor kid is still a rock

and then the preview happened and bufo casually revealed to the audience that, yes, he killed choose goose

i dont know whats happening with pep but it seems he needs to be exorcised of... pep. which is a shame. i hope they learn to coexist. 

i have to say the background work in this special is really good! like, really damn good. 

WH

WHAT

DID SPADER JUST DIE

IS THIS WHY PEOPLE THINK PEPBUT KILLED HIM 

oh thats right - abracadaniel is cadebra’s uncle! this must be abracadniels sister. sorry, folks, he doesn’t fuck. 

Where are they? Is this anywhere near Wizard City? It’s an unpopulated prewar wasteland. 

THESE ARE JUST HUMANS

OF COURSE SHE WANTS TO PERFORM TO MILQUETOAST HUMANS

my child

is this an art style choice or did they get the people from that one studio to make this

HANNA FINALLY GETS TO FULFIL HER DREAM OF INSERTING KANEDA INTO ADVENTURE TIME

the red jacket he wears and his head pill shape is a big kaneda reference actually, which i suppose makes sense considering he’s a rival to our protagonist, but it’s a bit on the nose

bufo killed one of his own students? but why????

“MY UNCLE’S A COP”

“no one likes a rat”

i actually really like blaine, though im confused. did their VA change halfway through the special?

HOW NATURAL, NO WASTE, IT IS AN ENDLESS CHAIN

did doctor caledonius steal the trophy,,,? 

EVIL SNAIL EVIL SNAIL

MONMSTER HUNJTER DISCOVERY NOISE, this time it’s a tetsucabra

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I HAVE QUESTIONS

god i wish this is what this special was about, i miss adventure time

these remind me of the comics with their art style :) i wonder who designed them? the one on the right with pb and pep, in particular, very comics-y. 

fdgfhgf because he’s like 500

“pep can be kind of a jerk but he wouldn’t kill anyone”

sorry, cadebra, i have news for you

is doctor calednoius the true villain? if bufo’s out of the picture, she MUST be, 

ANTS

oh no, he might gbe stuck in wizard city :( 

HELP

the writing on the wall...

SPADER LITERALLY FUCKING DIED OH YM JESUS CHRIST

PEPPERMINT BUTLER’S OWN CULT????

THIS IS JUST OK KO NOW

okay im not surprised all the teachers at wizard city are cultists in worship of peps, maybe they killed spader and bufo because they bullied peps T_T

wait no, they thought spader had the potential, but sadly not

HE FUCKING KILLED HIMSELF

sorry, i was distracted by the pretty dope fight sequence and now the special is over????

fucking jesse, hes probably at least partly responsible for the cult nonsense

This credits art is by Maya Petersen!!!! Holy shit it’s adorable!

LRETGFDRGTFGMHGFHFG

LEAF MAN

DO YOU THINK THEY PUT HIM IN RETROSPECTIVELY

DO YOU THINK MAYA PETERSEN DREW THIS AND ADAM PUT IT IN THE EP RETROSPECTIVELY

HE LIVES

MAYBE THIS IS WHY CHOOSE GOOSE WENT TO HELL

okay, it’s over :) 

first thoughts out of the way: not a big fan of this special. it’s like watching a completely different show. it’s not got the PZSHAHH of the normal wizard city stuff and there weren’t a lot of funny jokes or even hearty moments in the thing. 

it suffers from a lack of invested character interactions, much like BMO did. there was not a single main cast member in the whole thing! and like i said before, much of peppermint butler’s character in the show is based on his very sweet relationship to his mother, princess bubblegum, so when they showed a single (hilarious) photo of them together it made me sad we didn’t get any scenes with them together. it would have STOLEN this episode. and they teased the hunson golf photo, and death!!! and jake appeared in a photo T_T last jake appearance. 

it also suffers because Peppermint Butler is clearly not himself, imo he was way more entertaining in the Together Again special, where we seem him back to his “normal” self. 

i dont think peps being a dark wizard was something to “kill off” exactly. i wonder what was going on there? was that actually peps, or was that a spirit he cursed himself with based on himself? we at least know in the future he does become a dark wizard again, and even princess :) this special didn’t answer those questions but lol. 

THE GOOD STUFF, because yes, there was a lot of good stuff! 

God, I’m with Aracle and Maya on this - I LOVE Cadebra and her relationship to Pep. I wish she was even in more of this - I would love to watch the adventures of Cadebra and Pepbut in their first year of school, like in the end credits.

That, imo, is where the heart of the special lay - Peppermint Butler’s attempts to impress himself, versus Cadebra’s self acceptance and desire to follow her dreams of being a goofy goober, no matter what other people thought of her. 

It turned out that Cadebra is a responsible student and family member. I really liked that. Her scenes with Abracadaniel were, somehow, my favourite in the entire special! 

I like that theres a lot of cool magic towards the end of this special, and a lot of HORRIFYING DEATH. It wouldn’t be adventure time if you didn’t randomly kill off child characters. Poor Spader, I hated you but damn, what a grim fate. 

I like that Bufo and Caledonius had this crush/hatred thing going on, but they were part of the same cult in the end. 

I didn’t like the giant peps scene at the end, the monster was extremely milquetoast compared to the madness we usually get in AT. Obsidian, for example, had the awesome Larvo design. Nemesis had some INSANE dark magic!!!!  I wish they drew more from that episode. 

Considering how much Steve Little appears in this special, I do feel bad for Mace (little Peps). He said he would have really benefitted from coaching, but recieved none. He had to re-record his lines 3 times! Judging from his description of events, Wizard City was a hard time for him. 

The wizard school did remind me, heavily, of both The Owl House and OK KO. Personally I was hoping AT would offer me something more insane, but I do love both of those shows, and I know Wizard City was on a really tight schedule. 

I think they should have spent less time on the school bullying plot, and skipped straight to MURDER. 

We did have a cold opening, not on par with Together Again’s at all, but damn!

I am wondering where I would put this in the watch list? I do think it should sit after Obsidian as the third special. The intro scene makes it clear this takes place at the same time as Obsidian!!!

Well, that was it, the last ep of AT for the next few years at least T_T

i think together again was the better finale, definitely. but wizard city feels pretty detached from AT for me, despite the familiar characters it tonally isn’t like the show other than the awesome brutal death scenes. I thought the last 11 minutes was easily the best in the special! Which, honestly, is how it should be, though I do wish it gripped me more. Maybe I’m just not the target audience for Wizard City? It feels like something I would find very compelling if I was a bit younger! 

[im-lad-ris]

Keep Your Face to the Sun: Meludir X Reader

Prompt: “Could I request a Meludir and reader where she is good friends with Legolas and is always hanging out with him and Meludir is jealous. Somehow, everyone gets to know (even Thranduil) abt it except her and they always tease him. So once when he sees her walking with Legolas he gets frustrated and just kisses her? Basically just FLOOf ”

Submitted by: @lespaceboi​

Words: 1.5k

A/N: Wow I am really behind in my writings. I hope you can forgive me for being so late, especially considering everything that’s been going on. I’m going to work to write more often! Besides that, I’ve never written for Meludir before so, kinda nervous about this one. Also adding a keep reading line to this one to kind of make my tumblr look a little nicer.

---------

"You know… You're staring again"

Meludir could not help but to jump at the voice that had come from behind him. His back went ramrod straight before he turned and bowed, "My King Thranduil" he said, his lips drawn in a tight line. He had not heard the king approach him from behind, and he had certainly not expected to be called out for his behavior.

"Pity they are so oblivious, isn't it?" The king remarked before moving away from Meludir, his robes flowing behind him as he made his way across the banquet hall. Meludir let out a huff before returning to the activity he had been doing before being interrupted, looking at you.

He had spent the better part of the evening watching you from across the room. Still, he could not help the way his blood boiled every time the prince laid a hand on you, or smiled at you, or even looked at you. It irked him, and even though he swore to himself he was not jealous, the tightening of his chest every time he saw you and Legolas together was unbearable.

An hour had yet to pass since Meludir had seen the king before Tauriel had passed by him as well, giving him a knowing look. All Meludir could do was roll his eyes and try to hide the blush that had been caused by her look. It took all his willpower to not cover his burning cheeks.

Not even 10 minutes after Tauriel had passed by him and made her way to the other side of the room, a council member had given him a look as well, something akin to a mix between sorrow and joy. He had met the man once or twice, and yet the look he was given brought another blush to his face.

Was he so painfully obvious to everyone in the kingdom? Well, obvious to everyone but you. Was he that transparent with his feelings that even those who did not know much of him could see how he felt? He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, hoping that this night would soon end. He could not bear one more look from another person. Well, except for you. But you never seemed to look at him in the way his heart desired. He had once considered that maybe he was invisible to you, an ant to be crushed underfoot, but the kindness you treated him with suggested otherwise. Maybe it was that his personality, his looks, his everything did not compare to that of the prince, the one who you spent almost every day near.

---------

Things continued like this for Meludir for quite some time. He would receive looks from those he knew, and some from those he did not. These looks were especially frequent when you were in the room as well. It was almost as if they pitied him for not being able to express his feelings to you. But what could he do? He felt as though you were the sun, a star to be held in reverence, and he was only the moon. He was only magnificent because you were there behind him, guiding him, shining through him, whether you knew it or not. Your radiance was the thing that kept him going. And if he told you that he felt this? Would the sun no longer appear behind the moon, would it no longer shine and bring light to a darkening sky? Would the stars fall, their brilliance scorching a path through the sky as they crashed to the earth? He could admit he did not know, but that did not mean he was not fearful all the same. For whom would not fear the unknown?

Meludir stood and pondered on these things for quite some time, leaning against a corridor wall. He was so lost in thought he did not hear the footsteps coming towards him and was shaken out of his internal reflection when a voice spoke up.

"Funny seeing you here Meludir. I thought for sure you would be somewhere staring at Y/N." Meludir's cheeks turned a bright red, and as he turned, most likely to lash out at whoever had spoken to him, all angry words turned to mush in his mouth. The prince, Legolas, had spoken to him. Meludir clenched his fists at his side, he could not let fly his nasty words upon the prince of the realm.

He grit his teeth together, his cheeks still burning before trying, and failing, to calmly respond. "I do not see how my affections are your concern," he seethed, before remembering his place and adding a quick "my prince" to the end of his sentence.

Legolas smiled at him, and Meludirs' teeth clenched so hard he thought they might have cracked. "I may not be king, but most things in this realm are still my concern, and not beyond my sight. Besides, your affections are so plainly obvious I would not be surprised if all of middle-earth were privy to them"

Meludirs eyebrows shot up in surprise before he raised his hand to point at the prince. Just as words were about to leave his throat, another voice came from behind him. "Legolas! Meludir! What a pleasure to see you both!"

He recognized your voice immediately, and the way you said his name made him shudder before he brought his hand back down to his side and turned to face you. You smiled at them both before grabbing Legolas's hand and dragging him out of the corridor, muttering something about his presence being required elsewhere.

Meludir felt his blood boil, his insides were an inferno, and he swore his vision had been tinged with crimson. Just as you were about to round the corner of the corridor, Meludir reached out, pulling your hand from Legolas, and yanking you towards him.

He spared no thought for the prince as he used his hands to cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss. Your noses bumped together for a second before he found the sweet spot, and your mouths melted together.

He felt ethereal. He had eaten many sweets in his life, yet your lips were the sweetest thing he had ever tried. He felt as if warm honey was falling past his lips and down his throat, and it was a feeling he never wanted to end.

He was surprised when you sighed against his mouth, your hands reached around his neck, tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck. After a second standing still, he kissed you with a renewed vigor, dipping you backward as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth.

After a few moments, he stood back up, feeling out of breath. Even though he wished to never let you go, he removed his mouth from yours and rested his forehead against yours. When he opened his eyes, he spotted tears brimming in your eyes, wetting your eyelashes.

"What is wrong, Nin Meleth?" he asked, using a finger to wipe your tears away. As he did, he looked back down the corridor, yet Legolas was absent. He thanked the stars the prince had left and did not have to witness the childlike admittance of his feelings.

"I thought," you started, his eyes turning back down towards yours, "that you didn't feel the same for me." He was taken aback and pulled you into a tight hug.

"I'm surprised you never noticed how I felt, even when everyone else did. I was often teased for never taking my eyes off you…" he said before placing a kiss on your forehead.

You stepped back in surprise, your fingers tangled with his, "That cannot be true! I was teased for the same reasons. How surprising it must be to know that not once did our eyes meet." you stated, a smile gracing your lips. Meludir blushed, his face a dark red at your admission. You had been looking at him too? You had seen him as he had seen you?

He smiled down at you, wanting to melt when your eyes met his. They were burning bright as they beheld him and he could not help but smile even wider, letting his happiness be known to you.

As it turns out, when the sun loves the moon, just as the moon loves the sun, no stars rain down from the heavens, and the reflection of the sun's love leaves the moon to shine twice as bright in the midnight sky.

---------

Tag List: @writing-fortolkein​ @your-pixels-are-showing​ @emastrangee​ @abbiesthings​ @bilbo--watson​

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[mynameseri]

What does a yandere Kite look like? I can just imagine feeling like you escaped but then he comes back as an ant lmao

When you were getting to know Kite, he seemed like a shy, levelheaded person. It was easy to fall for him. He seemed to be the whole package: intelligent, attractive, successful. It was hard to believe someone like him could be single. Only after getting more involved with him did you start to see any red flags.

You started to notice changes in your life. They were subtle but stood out to you over time. Friends started to talk to you less. People you associated with seemed to almost vanish out of thin air. You felt isolated. Kite was the only constant in your life. At first this felt relieving, but over time it made you start to despise him. The thoughts of self-doubt began to eat away at you. Were you not worthy of anyone else’s time but his? What was “wrong” with you? As badly as you tried to seek out answers, you never got any.

It was a bittersweet relief when Kite went on a mission and never returned. As far as you were informed, he had died. You were crushed on the surface, you loved him. But deep down you felt freed. Satisfied. A sick sense of happiness. You felt guilty, but was it so wrong to feel that way? You decided since he was dead, you didn’t need to move or change your current life. You would just rebuild and move on.

Much to your surprise, one day Kite reappeared. His appearance was completely different, but he proved his identity by naming off your secrets and facts about you. A pit began to grow in your stomach, you thought you had escaped. “I couldn’t die, I needed you. You were my will to survive. I couldn’t leave this planet knowing you would be here and possibly loving up on someone else.” His confession was twisted yet somehow romantic. You couldn’t admit you were finding light in life without Kite.

Eventually, you’re trapped again. Life falls back into that same pattern you were stuck in before. On the surface, things were so beautiful. Deep down you were fighting a constant battle between freedom and love.

[slversoul]

* taylor russell, demi woman + she/her | you know darlene wyman, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, six years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to hellmouth by choir boy like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole face always covered in half a shadow, two day old makeup because she didn’t care enough to take it off, smile that feels like she just signed off on your death thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is january 26th, so they’re an aquarius, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( cornelia, 21 )

tw: emotional abuse + general bullying, robbery

growing up, darlene was offered all of the freedom in the world, running around her family’s three acre plot of land. the yard was her escape from the suffocating air within the house. with three spare bedrooms, there should have been a place for her to hide, but her mother or her father or her brother always found her. her mother’s shrill criticisms. her father’s disapproving glare. her brother’s cruel smile. she was an ant under a magnifying glass as they watched with glee as she burst into flames.

her biggest escape in life was pottery. she’d sit far in the backyard, beneath her favorite tree, making pinch pots and misshapen animal figurines. 

went bowling one time and met this guy named nick. he was everything her parents hated, and that was part of his charm. one look in his eyes as their hands met when they both reached for the ball (a ploy he later admitted he used to talk to her) and she was hooked.

study groups were code for dates. it was rather easy to keep nick far away from her parents, always thinking of vague excuses why he could never come to her house. he was perfect. he was tough and intimidating, but he was sweet and considerate. darlene would have done anything for him.

things were getting worse at home. she was adamant about doing pottery and sculptures, but her parents refused to indulge her. they wouldn’t let her even look at the credit card. they wouldn’t drive her to the pottery place. instead, her father placed a pair of cleats in her hand and her mother drove her to practice. darlene was good at soccer; she had potential to be great. so her parents pushed her. practice every day after school. private lessons on the weekends. they wouldn’t settle for nothing less than a champion. 

her brother had found her clay sculptures she’d kept hidden away -- a hobby she could never let up. she had to watch with tears welling in her eyes as he stomped on them, smashing them into pieces. as he kicked them around he laughed and told her to watch and learn if she ever wanted to be good at soccer.

her coach had pulled her father aside to tell him that darlene was hardly trying, and that, she would never be great at soccer if she didn’t put in more effort. on the car ride home, her father told her that he wished she would have been a boy, that she would be something he could be proud of.

one day, she broke down and told nick everything. he comforted her and told her he loved her. they made plans to run away together. she gave him a house key to go get her stuff while she was out to dinner with her family. she would sneak out and meet him after.  when they returned home, the house had been robbed. mrs. wyman’s precious jewelry missing. mr. wyman’s hunting rifles gone. of course, darlene kept her mouth shut, not letting them know about nick. she tried desperately to contact him, but he blocked her, and she never heard from him again. she realized that there were no heroes; only villains masquerading as saviors.

she still tried to run away — hid in the neighbors tree house until her brother found her quickly and dragged her kicking and screaming back to the house. surprisingly, her mother wasn’t mad. instead, she pulled her only daughter close and let her tears soak her blouse. later that night, she darlene’s hair and told her that her heart would heal.

darlene let herself believe it was her mother’s love that motivated those actions. she turned a blind eye to her need for obedience because darlene fell into line after that. she stopped making her mud sculptures and turned all of her attention to soccer. 

she improved in every area of her life except social. aggression found an outlet in soccer. her school work served as an escape from other aspects of her life. but she didn’t trust anybody. she yelled at anyone who walked too close to her in the hallway. knocked the books out of the hands at classmates she thought looked at her the wrong way. she talked back to her teachers.

detention after detention stacked up and grades started to slip as she sunk further into her attitude. the tipping point happened after practice one day. her coach told her she was good, but not good enough. nobody wanted to recruit her for college. it was a dead-end, time wasting doing something she didn’t even care about. for weeks, she managed to avoid her parents until they forced her to sit down at dinner. told her she was a disappointment, bigger than they could have ever imagined. she was cut off, expected to leave after graduation. 

she hitched a ride with a friend who was moving to irving to attend the local community college.

currently runs a depop shop and has a garden, but those are her side hustles. her main gig is a hairdresser. she’s on thin ice because she’s messed up haircuts on purpose a couple of times when she gets annoyed with the customers.

PERSONALITY 

she’s so mean but it’s just to cover up her sadness. had big dreams growing up but those have all been crushed, so she doesn’t like getting attached. she will not say a single thing about her past and is not forthcoming at all. mean to keep people away. doesn’t want to bond with people. but she does deep down....darlene just isn’t aware. she’s a scared little girl and that dictates everything she does <3 would love to do pottery again but doesn’t want to be That Girl anymore.....doesn’t want to get pushed around anymore......in here mind there is a correlation between being dreamy and being weak. think kim kelly from freaks and geeks....that’s all for now....

WANTED CONNECTIONS

enemies! a classic but she loves having a list of enemies....the more people who don’t like her, the better she THINKS she feels....

something based on the first two quotes on this im begging.....someone she longs for from a far....she wants them but doesn’t know how to want anything.......hot n cold.....someone is going to end up so so so hurt.....

this! romantic or platonic but someone who puts her in her place....pities her which she hates but it’s because they can see into her soul...

someone who wants to help her despite everything and her resistance to help

like one or two friends.....people she can sit and stew with and there’s not an expectation that they are friends....it looks like they aren’t friends and yet it works somehow <3

[oveliagirlhaditright]

I sort of missed writing KH fics that took place in the KHII era, so I wrote this story where Sora and Kairi confessed their feelings for each other between KHII and DDD, but that then makes it AU. Fluff. Oneshot.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29577108

You Raise Me Up

Kairi’s PoV

Kairi was writing her feelings for Sora in her drawing pad… It was silly, she knew, because she should have been using this gift she’d been given for art. And while she'd meant to, Kairi found that it was the written word that was really where she was at these days. But it would of course be while she was doing this, that Sora would approach her and steal the book from her.

It was an absolutely beautiful day: birds seemed to be having a contest to see which of their wings could turn the most yellow when they flew close to the sun… dogs were barking gleefully, as they played frisbee with their masters nearby… and there was even a street vendor who seemed to be purposefully leaving out their spoiled food, so that even the ants could have something to eat.

All-in-all, everyone was trying to do their best today—Kairi knew that she was—and she had hoped that Sora would be, too. But nope. He had to tease her about something that was so personal, he didn't even know.

"Sora!" Kairi squealed, as she jumped into the air from where she'd been sitting and tried again and again to fetch her book from him, while he danced about her... dangerously close to running into a bicyclist at this point. "Give it back! You can't just steal a lady's art without her permission! Did you learn nothing from when you learned manners and had to bow down to that Princess Jasmine, or whatever it was you said?!"

Sora must not have, because he completely ignored the point that Kairi was trying to make—that he had learned some propriety on his journeys, and thus should have been using it now—but began reading Kairi's carefully crafted words, as she then desperately wanted to take a shovel to her own head... just anything, so she wouldn't have to be privy to this.

"'How he attempts to give everyone lovin', without them realizing his own heart is broken.'"

At first, Sora didn't seem to realize that her words were about him. She saw his mouth starting to form the word "who". And whether he would have thought that “who” was a real person or a fictional character if he’d gotten to finish his first thought, Kairi didn’t know.

But then Sora seemed to finally get that this was art that she was making with blood, sweat, and tears, and settled down and handed her her book back. And a small smile played at his lips as he seemed to speak from the heart: "Kairi, you should really think about becoming a poet... or an author, as one can also sound poetic in novel speak."

And if he was going to play it civil to save their friendship, Kairi could do the same. And she grinned at her friend now, as she put a strand of hair behind her ear and somewhat wanted to hide from the world. “You know what? I’ll really think about that.” And be glad that that is the lead you decided to take, and that you haven’t realized the poem was about you… because I love you.

Then, Kairi and Sora had a wonderful afternoon of being good people and helping the professional fishermen nearby with their jobs. And when they were given some of the best fish as a reward for this, they took it over to the sick Riku’s house to try and cheer him up some.

…

Sora’s PoV

 A Few Days Later

Sora looked out the window—bored in school, as he always was—when he noticed that Kairi was outside.

Kairi was a girl he'd had a crush on, ever since she'd washed up on the islands when she was five. But he figured it was a hopeless case, since Kairi was kind of popular and surely liked his friend Riku... And he wasn’t trying to dwell on it, anyway, since he was generally a happy person…

But he wondered what she was doing outside! It wasn't like Kairi to skip class, or anything like that. Though Sora didn't see her class with her right now, so where could they be? Had they just gone into the greenhouse before she had? And why did she look sad?

Kairi, what's wrong with you? Sora found himself thinking, as he nearly got out of his seat to go to her.

Unfortunately, Sora's teacher noticed his lack of attention and ordered him to stand up and answer a question, whilst his thoughts were all for Kairi. "Homura Sora!” his sensei demanded, “What are the first digits of pi?"

"Oh. Erm... S-sorry!" Sora stammered. "Uhh... I believe they are 3.14159?" And Sora sat down--slightly embarrassed now--but glad that he knew the answer when he was called on, and wasn’t humiliated for once: even if people were still whispering about him for having been a space cadet. Yikes.

But still only feeling for Kairi, Sora looked out the window again and saw that she was for sure crying! He wondered if she'd sensed her grandma die or something…

Raising his hand, Sora decided he was going to ask for a personal day and go check on Kairi.

…

“Kairi, what’s wrong?!” Sora demanded the moment he saw his best friend. And then he took her in his arms to comfort her, the moment he saw that something must have happened since she was crying.

“My mom had a heart-attack, Sora. Thankfully, she’s okay. But I didn’t know she would be when I came into school today—God, now I don’t even know why I came in today—but now that I know she’s alright, I should probably go into class again and not be hiding out here. But I don’t know if I can. My emotions are all spent. Is that crazy?”

“No, Kairi,” Sora promised the girl of her dreams after she’d babbled. He then put his chin atop her head, held her ever tighter to him, and drank in this moment. Sora couldn’t get over how well her scent of strawberries smelled with his of chocolate... “It’s not crazy at all. Emotions aren’t logical. Just take it easy, okay? And if there’s anything you need… know that I’ll be there for you.”

And Sora had thought that Kairi would say “thank you” and just leave it at that, but she surprised him—as it continued to rain around them, wrapping the two of them in a warm blanket on this hot island. “Actually, Sora… I wrote some of my feelings about what happened to Mom down. And I- I wouldn’t mind if you read them. I think it might be therapeutic for me, even, if you’d do that,” Kairi said shyly, stepping away from Sora so she could hand him her sketchbook.

And it was so rare for Kairi to be shy, how could Sora anything but “yes”? He even responded more gently to her here than he normally would, and that was really saying something.

“Of course, Kairi. I’ll read anything that comes from your beautiful heart!” Sora beamed with his eyes closed. He then decided to lay it on a bit thick and be a bit of the flirt that Donald always accused him of being. But he meant every word he was saying here. Because how could he not, when he loved Kairi so much?

And he flipped open the redhead’s sketchbook to find words about the mayor… but instead he found himself seeing ones about himself.

Kairi had written that she liked him, but was afraid that he wouldn’t feel the same since she saw herself as useless?

And Kairi must have realized he’d flipped to the wrong page by accident, because she was already trying to rip the book away from Sora and stammer out explanations. “I swear it’s not what it seems lik-”

But Sora was already cutting off his precious girl, who had jumped off a balcony and fought for the first time to save him. “Kairi, you are notuseless. Don’t ever think that. But as for the rest of it… umm, I have to go. But I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Sora, wait!”

But Sora wasn’t listening. He was already Quick Running away, as he really needed to think here.

Later, he’d realize that he’d left Kairi at the worst time imaginable—and he would berate himself for it—since she had just been through so much already, and he was probably making her think he didn’t like her back.

But at the time, all Sora could think was that Kairi liked him… but probably didn’t love him.

…

A Day Later

Even after thinking on what Kairi had written over and over—as Sora laid in his bed, summoning and dismissing his Keyblade and rinsing and repeating—he couldn’t make out what she meant, exactly, and where they went from here.

It was clear to see that she liked him (she’d written that much, after all). They were at that age where one would start having crushes, after all… but did she love him in the way that he did her?

And if Kairi did have feelings for him... what if she only felt that way because he was a hero, and because of all the things that he'd done for her?

Sora was miserable when he thought that last part. And suddenly, he needed to get out of his house that just felt suffocating at the moment. So, he began peddling away on his bike, cursing the fact that he had his “driver’s license” in other worlds, but not here yet.

And really... maybe he deserved to be miserable, for having accidentally read that part of her journal. But he still had to wonder to the gods of Mount Olympus just why everything had to be so hard…

...It was only when Sora just happened to see Kairi after this—with her hair dyed black?! What? Had she thought she was “dark” for having “hurt his feelings” to make him run off like that, and had thus dyed her hair to match how she thought her heart was?—that he realized he had made a huge mistake in thinking so little of her.

“Kairi!" Sora exclaimed the moment she was over the threshold of the store she’d just been at. And her concerned expression turned into a smile as soon as she saw that he was giving her a thousand-watt smile, Sora thought.

And running up to the love of his life… and taking her hands in his, and just deciding to play it brave here, Sora asked Kairi what he knew he should have yesterday. "Kairi... do you have feelings for me?"

Kairi shrank back at this—something Sora instantly hated himself for, because he knew it was his fault because of how he’d reacted last time—but he couldn't tell why. Was it that she was embarrassed to admit it if she did... or did she still think he couldn’t feel that way for her? If so, Sora promised himself he’d help her to build her confidence up, if it was the last thing he did.

Shockingly, Kairi threw herself into Sora's arms—letting the coconut milk she’d been holding fall to the ground as she did so—and didn't stand there clenching her fists uncertainly, like he had feared she would.

But Sora could tell by how lightly Kairi held him, that this embrace was still of friendship and not romance. But why-

"I- I do, silly… I love you," Kairi replied now, as she chose that moment to look over his shoulder and focus hard on the little dipper that was just beginning to appear in the sky. What as a way of distraction? That would be Sora’s guess. "I'm sure you know that, from the tiny bit you spied from my diary. How- how could I not like you when we've been best friends for so long? But if you don't feel the same way-"

And here, Sora could only begin humming a song he was writing in his head to go with this perfect moment going on. It was very Eric of him, Sora thought, but he wouldn’t complain in the slightest. Because Kairi loving him was monumental in and of itself... but it felt good to know that she loved him for him, and not because she thought she owed him for sacrificing himself for her!

So, Sora stroked Kairi's hair once and even kissed a strand of it, as he leaned his cheek against her own.

“I love you too, Kairi. I always have. …And that’s why I stabbed myself with the Keyblade of People’s Hearts, and will never regret it or anything I do for you. …And I’m sorry I’ve made you think differently by how I’ve reacted lately. I guess we both had our own insecurities to get over, huh? Hehe. But I swear I’m going to show you how special you are to me, Kairi. Starting with telling you that you should bring your red hair back? But, hey. If you’ve decided you want black in it too, that’s also cool.”

Kairi giggled at Sora’s rambling—a sound that was like music to his ears—and his knees buckled at for how he was probably failing here… but Kairi was swift to rise him up again, both figuratively and literally.

“Then let’s be a couple together, Sora. I guess that’s all there is to it. And I also think us helping each other believe in ourselves more is a good idea… Like me believing I don’t have to be Supergirl to keep your attention. In fact… do you think you could carry all the coconut milk I bought home for me? It’s kind of heavy for me, to be honest.”

Now it was Sora’s turn to laugh. And he kissed Kairi’s head before adhering to her request. “Of course, princess!” And he moved to pick up the bags… but soon after, the two of them decided to compromise and each hold one half of the bag as they walked back to Kairi’s home.

Then, Sora and Kairi made cookies (with the coconut milk) for the first time together as boyfriend and girlfriend as a get well present for Kairi’s mother. But they snacked on a few themselves, of course.

All-in-all, it was the perfect everything.