#pov you are being desired by someone who can and will magically throw you into a wall to crack your head open if upset/refused

[carnivalls]

good afternoon. thinking again of kai and his dog

good morning. thinking again of juve and her dog

[drabbletale]

Sparks -chapter 3-

Chapter 3: The Honeymoon Phase

(AO3 LINK for the first two chapters... this will be posted there after I get off work <3)

I have a few more chapters already written, but they need to be edited. Feel free to get on my ass about that. I am writing POV labels because these were supposed to be two separate chapters but.... eh. Man I am so nervous about posting this.

Nothing super yandere happens in this chapter, as it is the calm before the storm. Okay, no real warnings for this chapter. I just wanted to post it for Valentines day!

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Stretch's POV

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“I desire very little, but the things I do consume me.”

He’s ready to collapse the second he gets home. Even his usual four hour shifts exhaust him at this point and on a Friday especially so.

Muffet seemed to notice how exhausted and irritated he seemed. The bar was bustling and no one was tipping well, all irritated at the loss of the only monster basketball team in a large tournament. People were arguing, getting drunk, being loud. There was even a short ‘fight’, where Stretch had to physically throw someone out of the building. Well. Physically, for them. Blue magic made him a good bouncer when he had to be, though this wasn’t a club and he rarely needed to.

Blue magic…

A perfect compliment to his orange magic.

Blue wore the color of his magic, not just in his usual clothing, but in the color of his eye lights. They hid nothing, so bright and open and passionate.

By the time he’s at the front door of his house, his nerves have sparked. What had River said would help with anxiety? Part of him regrets the letter, it was too much too fast. Blue had never really looked his way other than to pity him. Or use him to get back at Dr. River who he had a tenuous relationship with.

Blue had said he had been attracted to that fuzzy monster immediately, had wanted to follow her home from the moment he had seen her.

He sighed at his front door, knowing his energetic father would no doubt be asking about Blue the moment he saw him. And Stretch would answer, because talking about Blue gave him life, even if it was to his father. There wasn’t much he could say if Blue reacted poorly. He’d need to come up with a plan that his father would almost certainly… not approve of.

As soon as he walks through the door, he hears his father’s voice chattering away, incomprehensible from the dining room.

Then he hears a reply and his soul is set ablaze. Paralyzed by emotions he can’t name, he drops his bag in the entry way. The exhaustion of the day disperses and feels almost as though he’s floating to the edge of the kitchen. Blue is sitting at kitchen table with Gaster, his back toward him. His shoulders tensed up, he must have heard Stretch come in.

‘look at me, honey’

Gaster who is sitting in the seat that faces the door is saying something that Stretch doesn’t hear.

Blue has turned his chair enough to be able to look him in the eyes and his face is more open and hopeful than he can remember seeing in the group. It takes only a second to realize that Blue had put on his orange hoodie and his slender fingers were playing with the hem of it.

Gaster has stopped talking, noting that he’s not getting any reaction and just chuckles, waiting for the moment to pass.

“Hello Papyrus.” Blue saying his real name just about made his knees buckle under him.

He’s never felt so elated!

“can i…. can i call you sans then?”

‘Sansy’ had been written in the note, he couldn’t help it. Maybe it was meant to be a clue as to who he was, or maybe he just liked the way it looked on paper. Liked the way the ‘s’s felt against his teeth, liked the way he could say it even out of breath, liked how it fit his soul mate so completely.

“Oh, you can call me anything you want, Papy. Just as long as you don’t call me Comic!” The three of them laughed at the not-actually-a-joke. Blue’s smile squinted his eyes, his hands were shaking in his lap where they were gripping the edge of his sweater tight. He was excited! So excited, Stretch could tell. It was overwhelming and gods, he didn’t want his father here.

“Did you know he can speak in hands, Papyrus? I had hoped, but I know it’s not a common…”

“father.”

“Right, Right. Of course you two probably have plans, hm? Date night maybe.”

“Maybe.” Blue replied, eyes never breaking gaze with Stretch’s. “I was thinking… You should come over. To my house?” He looked so nervous that Stretch couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “It’s getting late, but I want… We should talk, yeah?”

“yeah. just let me grab an outfit.”

Blue swayed a little in his seat, then nodded. “Okie dokie! Go do that! Then we can… we can go.”

He’s in his room for about 30 seconds before he hears his door squeak open and turns to see Blue standing there, chin tilted downward, small smile still on his face. “I just wanted to tell you…. maybe you should pack for a few days?” He comes in and closes the door behind him, leaning against it as he watches Stretch pull off his jacket.

“you think you can take that much of me already?”

There’s a light chuckle that bubbles up out of Blue’s chest, and it’s beautiful, so beautiful, that Stretch already feels like he’s on cloud nine. He could walk away from his entire life and never look back, he’s sure of it. Fuck his job, fuck his father, fuck his pathetic lack of friends. Nothing else matters than the bones currently bundled up in his sweater walking towards him.

“Oh, I don’t think we will have any problem with that, Papy.” He’s standing so close and the silence between them echoes off the walls. They just stare at each other for a moment and half.

Despite his soul doing flips in his chest, he feels paralyzed with it. This moment, looking into Blue’s bright eyes, bright like a full moon, he is elated. Finally giving up on words, he does what he’s been wanting to do since laying eyes on Blue.

Taking Blue’s face in both his hands, he leans down and presses a chaste kiss against his forehead. “i’m so glad i met you, darling.”

The sound Blue makes is something strangled, a desperate whimper that makes Stretch pull back to look him in the eyes. Tears, shining and pained, streak down his round cheeks and Stretch wonders if he’s somehow hurt him. Before he can consider it, Blue has grabbed both his hands in his own, pressing them harder into his cheeks. “Th-Thank you… Oh Angel… Papyrus, I’ve been so alone… so alone.”

His hands are shaking as he continues to pack, just taking a random duffle bag and stuffing it full of clothing. He wouldn’t have minded spending the night here so much, but he’s certain his father would intrude under the guise of ‘being helpful’. It’s the last thing they need right now.

Stretch is also still not entirely sure how his father is going to react to finding out Blue and he hadn’t really actually ‘met’ before that letter.

Behind him, Blue’s magic has finally settled and he’s no longer flushed. Back against the edge of his bed, he’s sat on the throw rug covering his cold cement floor. His dad’s annoying dog is laying in Blue’s lap and he seems happy enough to pet the stupid thing.

“do you have any pets at your place?”

It takes a second for Blue to blink and look at him, before that beatific smile is shining up at him again. Fuck, he’s pretty.

“I had a goldfish for a while! When the winter came, I forgot I needed to turn the heat on for him…” Blue’s eye lights shift off to the side, and he gives a nervous chuckle, looking bashful. “I’m ashamed to admit I killed him pretty fast. I forget how sensitive non-monsters can be.”

Stretch rubs the top of Blue’s head as he walks by him to pick up his shoes at the foot of his bed. “the dog is my dads, i’ve never been a big pet person. too much responsibility and i kinda suck at uh… well. that.”

Blue’s laugh was lighter this time. “You don’t need to worry about any of that anymore, I’m going to take care of everything!”

“not sure what you’re implying, but i trust you.”

“I’ve already got my apartment ready for you! I just need to pick up a few more groceries. Which…!” He held up a finger as Stretch turned to him to reply. “Which I can do as you unpack your stuff and get settled in my apartment. I’ll make dinner for you!”

“it’s almost four in the morning…”

Blue looks a little deflated, but nods. “Oh right, you’re lower case. Less energetic, right? That’s okay! Tomorrow is Saturday so you can sleep in and I’ll make you breakfast, then.”

“and we are sleeping together, right?”

“O-Oh… I mean, if you are…”

“i mean literally sleep, don’t worry. i’m not trying to rush us or make you uncomfortable-”

The smile on Blue’s face is unreadable. Tight and panicked, but also flushed.

“You can’t rush me.” The dog seems to be getting uncomfortable with whatever is in the air and jumps off Blue’s lap to trot out of the door. “Bye doggy!” Blue stands up in a rush and sits back down on Stretch’s bed. Stretch’s sweater rides up his thighs and though he’s still got his grey pants on beneath, the image that his mind conjures is considerably less innocent. “I want everything. I’m just going to tell you this now, so you know. I want every last piece of you. I… I don’t mean to scare you, somehow I can’t remember what I’ve said in front of you in group.” He looks a little sad at this. “But I want everything.” His voice is soft as he speaks and looking up at Stretch with those wide eyes stirs something within him. He just looks so… delicate. His heart swells with love. “I know I don’t know much about you, but I know in my soul that this is right.”

“so do i.” Stretch only barely manages to say it, choked with more emotion in this singular moment than he’s had in his entire life. Everything until now has been a grey-scale blur, empty and aching in a way he could never name.

Their gazes really connect and Stretch feels his soul reaching out to Blue, and he feels as though he can feel Blue reaching back. Never touching though, not yet. Not yet.

He needs so much more.

“you can ask me anything.”

“Same! And I mean that! I… As long as you promise not to be scared! But you know I’m not… That I have… attachment issues.” Blue looks down at his thighs and smooths his hands over the edge of the sweater. “I will never lie to you. Never. And we are going to be so happy in our new life.” Reassuring himself more than Stretch, Blue closes his eyes and leans back against the bed. “Please just… finish packing. I can’t wait to bring you home.”

He seems to have upset Blue again. ‘maybe it’s not upsetting. maybe he’s just overwhelmed with his emotions.’ Stretch could understand that more than anyone. “i can’t wait to be home.”

Blue lets out a nearly inaudible gasp and pulls his legs up on the bed. Stretch might have missed it if his room wasn’t so stagnant and quiet. Blue likes the idea of him moving in? Already?

Stretch keeps his smile to himself. “hey, i didn’t see your car in the driveway, where did you park it?”

“Oh. Uh…”

Blue’s POV

They end up taking a cab back to his home. Blue is more than happy to carry a backpack that he had insisted Stretch put a few of his books in. Stretch carries the duffle bag on his back and has his pillow tucked under his arm. His sweetheart wanted to have his own pillow. He said it was a special pillow for his sensitive neck, but Blue wondered if it wasn’t just a piece of home he’d be able to keep with him. He was worried that Stretch might get homesick.

With time, that would pass, of course. And Stretch wanted to be here! Even if that changed for a while, it would be for the best. When Gaster had first appeared to him, Blue had visions of needing to quietly ‘get rid’ of him. He had never actually killed before, so was he capable of such violence? He didn’t think so. …. There was once where he had gotten close to murder, but it had been an accident and no one actually died.

Sans and Papyrus.

The fact that they are soulmates should have tipped him off though, of course it would work out! Gaster hadn’t questioned how he got into the house or even if Papyrus had actually invited him in. He just assumed he did. Apparently, Papyrus had already talked to his father about Sans, enough that he was thrilled to see Sans, but not enough that he thought he should fearSans. The perfect mix.

Stretch was happy to be going to his house to live there. There was nothing wrong with what was happening.

Stretch wanted him. Wanted to be with him forever.

This was ok.

Dr. River didn’t need to know. And if he found out… What would it matter? Papyrus wanted to be here and he is a grown skeleton who can make his own damn choices!

So why, as they walked through his building, up the stairs and towards his apartment door, did he feel so sickeningly guilty?

Stretch doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself in to.

One of his neighbors, a human with short brown hair says hello to them as they walk past, but before Stretch replies, Blue loops his hand under his arm and pulls them along just a bit faster. Their relationship is so new, he can’t handle the stress of outsider right now. Gaster was tolerated because encouraged Blue to take Stretch. Hoped they’d get along and be happy together.

This was fine, everything was good. He was happy with how this had turned out.

Was turning out. Was… still in the process of happening.

It isn’t until they reach his door and Blue is having trouble keeping his keys steady with how his hands are shaking that Stretch finally speaks up.

“you alright there honey? you seem nervous.”

“Ah, no! I’m just….” Finally managing to get his key in the lock and twisted, he pushes open his door. “Just excited is all! Promise!” He’s already lying and he knows it. When he looks into Stretch’s eyes though, he sees complete trust and a small smile. “Welcome home.”

They hadn’t bothered putting Stretch’s stuff away, though Blue had taken a moment to point out that he had already cleared the right half of his dresser drawers for Stretch’s use. This caused him to pause for a moment, those lightless eye sockets looking over at the dresser with no expression on his face before the moment passes and he laughs lightly and throws his pillow on the bed before collapsing down on it, face first.

Blue shakes his head with a quiet snicker and opens Stretch’s duffle bag to pull out a clean pair of boxers and a t shirt and gently sets them across his darling’s back. “I know you’re tired Papy, put these on and you can sleep now, alright?”

Stretch sighs but sits up again, taking the clothes out of Blue’s hands. There’s a moment where Blue is just standing in front of him, wide eyes and friendliest smile he could muster. Stretch shifts, a bit awkward as his legs flop over the edge of the bed. “just like… here?”

A moment passes where Blue tilts his head before realizing what Stretch is saying. “OH! Oh honey, you don’t have to be shy about your body!” He sets his hand on Stretch’s thigh and strokes the bone there with his thumb. “You’re here with… with me.” He sounds breathless, though he doesn’t need to breathe, his voice strained with the anxiety and desperation that he’s felt since the letter showed up in his car yesterday. “A-and we’re together now. That’s what you wanted right?”

Stretch considers it for a moment, then shrugs. “yeah. i guess.” He sets his hand over Blue’s and in response, Blue gently squeezes before letting go. “i don’t sleep with a shirt on though.” Is he smirking? He’s definitely smirking.

Pulling off his shirt, then his pants, he refuses to make eye contact with Blue. For a brief moment, Stretch is nude, his wide rib cage and slender waist cutting quite the figure. It takes everything within Blue not to reach out and touch those flawless bones.

The moment passes quickly and suddenly Stretch has the sleep pants on and is laying back in the bed, arms crosses behind his head, one leg still dangling off the side. Blue blinks when he realizes he's been staring and takes a deep breath. "Right! Okay, good. I'll just um... Take these." He grabs Stretch's clothes and already Stretch seems to be ready to fall asleep again, eye sockets sliding shut and body generally relaxing.

Blue checks Stretch's pockets (there's nothing in them) before tossing them into the laundry pile. Stretch's phone has been set on the nightstand on... on Stretch's side of their bed. He had intentionally cleared it of all the random stuff he had set there over the past year. Mostly books, honestly.

Stretch still hadn't moved from his position when Blue started undressing. Gloves first, thrown on top of his dresser. Unbutton his shirt, take off his belt, undershirt, work pants and finally his boxers, before he starts putting on new boxers and an old t-shirt. In the future, he could imagine putting on one of Stretch's old t shirts and just sleeping in that! Because they'd be sleeping in the same bed, he'd always smell like him. It was absolutely dreamy, a life that he had never thought he would be able to achieve since Grillby broke up with him.

Stretch had only been here for less than an hour and already the name Grillby was hurting him less and less. He imagined that if Stretch could stand being here for the next two months or so... he'd have completely forgotten about his broken heart. About time, too!

Two years of hell and he was almost done, almost ready to move on and become the lover he knew he could be!

He'd make this place perfect for Stretch, fine tune their apartment so that he would never, ever want to leave!

There was the issue of the bar, which he had discovered was where Stretch worked.

Blue looks up to find that pretty face turned back towards him and he has the sudden feeling of 'I don't know this man... at all.'But isn't that part of what made this so thrilling? Someone who discovered him first, who wanted him first, who LOVED him first. Beyond anything else, the excitement of it all made him grin right back at Stretch, who was still checking him out. "Like what you see, darling?" His face was already flushed with magic and he could only hope that his entire body wasn't showing it with the same vigor.

God he was already so in love, it was embarrassing. Still, Stretch tilted his head, sleepy smile sending a tremor up Blue's spine. "i do, and if i wasn't so tired, i'd do something about it. sorry honey, i wasn't expecting you to find me so fast."

Blue, still unable to rid himself of his wide grin, at least had the decency to look off to the side and give Stretch an awkward chuckle. "Yes, I know you worked today, didn't you?"

"yeah." Stretch cuddled up under the blankets, then held his arms out, waiting for Blue to come to him. And he did, almost giddy with the light headed feeling in his SOUL the moment he slipped into his darling's arms. What more could he ask for?

...

"Honey, do you pay rent at your dad's place?" He closed his eyes, still on top of the covers in Stretch's lap.

"nah. just my phone bill."

"Oooh, sure, that makes sense." Blue took a deep breath, steadying himself for Stretch's reaction. He knew he was pushing boundaries already, testing, seeing where he could take this, how far Stretch would let him in, what he could take and force and what would make Stretch finally, finally, break and leave him. He was sure he could stop himself before that happened. As long as Stretch was in his house and there was no one else in his heart, then he could handle making a few compromises.

But first, he needed to see what Stretch was willing to let him get away with. He had wanted this, had been the first to initiate even after hearing about Blue's stalking tendencies.

"why do you ask?"

"It's nothing much, really." He shrugged, wrapping his arms around Stretch's exposed ribs, his bare cheekbone nestled against Stretch's sternum. He was so close, and Stretch was holding him and it was all so good. He hesitated for a moment, but Stretch didn't goad him on either. "I just uh... I mean, you working at a bar, it's..."

"heh. you don't like that, huh?"

Careful. Caaaarefully reply, don't be too much, don't scare him away. Don't ruin what was just handed to you, something so special and so original... "I just get nervous. Not that I don't trust you! It's just that... Bars, drunks, alcohol, a scary part of the city... And I mean, you're only part time, so is it really... necessary?"

Stretch paused, body still and quiet and for one horrifying second, Blue thinks he may have fucked this up already, may have destroyed what hadn't had a chance to even start yet. "you want me to... quit? like... quit my job?"

"Would it really be so awful?" Stretch didn't sound angry or even surprised, really, so there's hope! There has to be, because he is already too invested in this and if he had to go to desperate measures, he'd be sad but... he'd do it. He was prepared to do anything to get Stretch here tonight, had he refused to comply.

He hadn't needed to though. Stretch wanted this. Wanted it all.

"i'd be broke instantly."

"I'm here to support you though!" Blue sat up in Stretch's lap, hands now on Stretch's chest, fingers now splayed out over where he knew Stretch's SOUL sat. The culmination of his beautiful being. "I'll feed you here and put you on my phone plan, don't worry about it!"

Another moments pause before Stretch shrugs, "fine, i guess. i hate working anyway."

"Lazybones." Blue giggles, heart soaring with this 'win', and he leans forward to press his teeth against Stretch's, who just smiles and holds him close. Easy! That was so easy!

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura LN11 Moments: NicolxKatarina

While reading Hamefura Light Novel Volume 11, I wrote some summary / quick translations of some moments.

Here is the NicolxKatarina moment in the book.

Context:

Katarina has decided to study love so that she can face her feelings

Katarina went to the castle’s library on her day off to search for memo containing hints regarding FL2

Katarina’s POV

After Alan leaves, Katarina meets Nicol at the library. Katarina thinks to herself that she is meeting a lot of her friends today.

Katarina: "Lord Nicol!"

When I called out to him, Nicol turned around and smiled when he recognized me. I could see roses behind him. Nicol's devilish charm seemed to be in full force today too. Since it had been a while, his devilish aura made me a little dizzy but I could pull myself together.

Katarina: "Are you working?"

As I asked him this, Nicol replied "That's right" and

Nicol: "What about you, Katarina?"

He asked me.

Katarina: "I have come to do some personal research."

Hearing my reply, Nicol nodded and

Nicol: "What are you researching?"

Katarina: "Umm... Old folktales."

Even if the castle's library was not as large as the library at the Ministry of Magic, it would take a tremendous time to check the entire book collection. It's just impossible. Even so, I had an idea of the kind of books I had to check. Since the memo was inside a romance novel, I wish I could check some, but this kind of book cannot be found in the castle's library. I thought of checking books of similar genres but I don't think I'll find any there either. The closest kind of books would be old folktales. There are many of them too, but since I will only flip pages, I should be able to check many of them even just today.

Nicol: "I see. Then it's this way."

Nicol kindly told me where I could find some. As expected of Nicol, he remembers where each book is.

Katarina: "Thank you very much."

Nicol: "It's fine."

As he nodded, he started scanning the books that might be related to my work. Even though he was just opening books, I couldn't help being fascinated by this beautiful sight. And then I remembered my goal and opened an old folktale book. I was only planning to confirm whether there was a memo inside by flipping the pages but since the content seemed very interesting, I ended up looking over them. A story about magic users coming from a faraway land to Sorcier, a story about an altar being built to increase magic powers, a story about a rampaging monster sealed using magic, and others. There were a great variety of folktales coming from all kinds of places. Before I knew it, I ended up frantically reading them.

Nicol: "...rina. Katarina"

Hearing Nicol's voice calling out to me, I snapped out of it. I had been completely absorbed in the books.

Nicol: "It seems like you were really focused."

Nicol said this while looking at me with his charming eyes.

Katarina: "Yes. I ended up getting absorbed in them."

As I said this, a little embarrassed, Nicol chuckled.

Nicol: "Anyway, it is already noon. Do you have any plans for lunch?"

Katarina: "Oh, you're right, it is already noon."

Because I got really absorbed, time passed in the blink of an eye. Why did I even come?

Katarina: "I have brought a boxed lunch with me. The weather is fine today, so I was thinking of eating outside."

Since I was planning on working all day today, the Claes family's cook made me a boxed lunch. Food and drinks are not allowed inside the library so I had planned to eat on one of the tables of the park.

Katarina: "Ah! Lord Nicol, if it's alright, would you like to join me? The chef made a lot of food."

It had been a while since the chef made me a boxed lunch. As a result, I made lots of requests and ended up with a large quantity of food. I'd rather not have leftovers if possible, so I would appreciate it if Nicol helped me. Nicol gave it some thought and

Nicol: "In that case, I will take you up on your offer."

He said, nodding. Then, we spread the contents of the boxed lunch on a table at the park. The boxed lunch that the Claes' family's cook put all his expertise into making looked absolutely delicious. I split it with Nicol. *munch*, *munch*, *munch*.

Katarina: "Mmm... Delicious!"

It has been a while since I ate a boxed lunch outside and enjoyed the food made by the cook who has a keen understanding of my tastes. It was so delicious. Each mouthful was pure happiness. At the Ministry of Magic, it was common to eat with everyone at the dining hall. Nicol too was chomping his food. Come to think of it, that time when we went to the orphanage, Nicol had brought a homemade boxed lunch.

Katarina: "Your homemade lunch from that time was very delicious too, Lord Nicol. For you to even be able to cook, you are so amazing!

Nicol can really do anything. 

Nicol: "It was mostly made by the cooks from my home. I only helped a little."

This is what Nicol said but I have already heard from Sophia, who is crazy about her brother, that Nicol made most of it alone at night. So I already know he is just being modest. Nicol looks devilish at first glance, but he is actually a humble ordinary big brother. There is a huge gap between how he is inside and how he looks outside. Oh, that's right. Nicol is probably more knowledgeable about romantic love than Alan. And so, I threw that question to Nicol too.

Katarina: "Lord Nicol, about love..."

At that moment, I remembered the question I had asked him before I entered the academy. When I casually asked him "Is there someone who caught your eye?", he replied "I fancy someone I must not have feelings for". Since I know it for a fact, he definitely knows about romantic love. And a painful one too... If I ask him now, things will become awkward. As I stiffened up because I didn't know what to say, Nicol asked

Nicol: "What's wrong?"

he said, looking at me with a puzzled face. I wonder if I should continue. Let's see... What should I say? In a complete panic, what came out of my mouth,

Katarina: "Umm, Lord Nicol... You told me before that there was a person you fancied... How did it go?"

That was way too blunt. I regretted asking him, but it was too late. I asked him again, even though he said it was a forbidden love with someone he was not allowed to love... Thinking about it, Nicol has been going on marriage interviews since then. It probably didn't go well... And I asked him about it, I really have zero delicacy!

Katarina: "...Ummm, Lord Nicol. You don't need to answer if it is too hard for you."

Even though I said this,

Nicol: "...I love them."

Translation Note: Nicol doesn't use any pronoun on the line above or all the lines after. So it can also be interpreted as "I love you".

He said. He told me this while looking straight into my eyes, so my face somehow turned hot.

Katarina: "Oh, you mean that person?"

As I plainly asked this, Nicol nodded in agreement. Nicol is a man of few words after all. For a moment, it felt like he was talking about me. This is so embarrassing!

Nicol: "...There was a time when I thought of throwing away my feelings because I had to forget them."

Oh, so that's why he has been going on marriage interviews. Nicol is so wonderful, but there is a person out there who won't return his feelings. Who in the world can that person be? I thought before it might be a man, but I feel like Nicol could have made him fall for him all the same if it were the case. I wonder if it was a married woman then. If it were, it must have been very hard. And painful.

Nicol: "I just couldn't throw away these feelings."

I knew these words were directed towards that person, but since he said this while staring straight at me, his incredibly strong devilish aura made my face turn hot. 

Nicol: "I don't think I will ever love anyone as much as I love them."

I really wish he would stop with the passionate gaze and the seductive voice. I was the one who asked in the first place though. Somehow, because I haven't been seeing Nicol much lately, my resistance to his devilish aura is decreasing. And then

Nicol: "I love them."

As he said this so passionately, my head who had reached its limit gave out.

Nicol's POV

I, Nicol Ascart, felt at a loss as I was holding in my arms Katarina, who had collapsed. And then I reflected on what happened. I met her for the first time in a while, and I was feeling elated since I had been blessed with an opportunity to have lunch alone with her. I took advantage of Katarina's misunderstanding about my beloved and told her, while staring at her aqua blue eyes, the feelings that I could normally never tell her. The blushing Katarina who was denying the possibility that I could be talking about her was such a lovely sight, so I ended up steadily telling her my feelings. As a result, Katarina turned bright red and collapsed. Katarina, along with my younger sister Sophia, enjoys reading romance novels but she herself can't handle sweet nothings whispered to her. Ever since her fiancé Geordo started putting his utmost effort courting her, I could see her feeling dizzy each time. She is usually bold and dynamic, but when it comes to love she is an inexperienced late-bloomer. I find this side of her endearing. I thought she wouldn't remember something I told her a long time ago. The thing I told her at her coming of age birthday, when I danced with her for the first time. We never talked about it afterwards and even I completely forgot about it, so I was shocked she remembered. Her body in my arms is light and she smells like the sun. Holding her like this, the terrifying thought of running off with her and making her mine came to mind. With my beloved whom I can never have against my chest, my desires started raging. As things were looking bad,

Sophia: Big Brother? What are you doing?

My savior ran up to me with a boxed lunch in her hand. Thanks to her, my desires disappeared straight away.

Nicol: "Sophia, you came just at the right time. Thank you."

I thanked Sophia before explaining to my astonished younger sister the details of what happened. I then asked for her help for what to do afterwards.

[tartagilicious]

snezhnaya does not believe in broken hearts > childe

→ pov: there is no pov i’m in love with another fictional man. I’m a little rusty writing wise because of school, but someone said childe enemies to lovers and who i am i to say no to that 🥴 so, here’s his boss battle with a ✨twist✨

→ ib: this comic on twt, pls go support it i love it and cry whenever someone mentions it. also, like the comic, childe’s delusion form won’t have a mask just so it’s easier to write his expressions!

→ *there are a good amount of lines that are taken directly from his battle in the game, so beware of detailed spoilers!

You can trust him. But, don’t get too involved. The battle he pursues is dangerous; it’s not something a normal person can withstand.

Whether you realised it or not, every moment you had spent with him began to carve out a hole in your chest, bittersweetly wearing away every layer of protection you had unconsciously built up. It wasn’t a well-done job by any means; the edges it left were particularly jagged, but the softness Childe still managed to pull from them left you stunned every time it chose to peek its head out.

“Don’t be so on edge, we���re friends, aren’t we?”

It suddenly became a daily routine to expect him at some point, whether it entailed him coming upon you doing a commission in the middle of the mountains, or you crossing paths in Liyue while some type of street food balanced precariously in his grip.

Yet, what you failed to notice was that most times, he would take care to place another of the same delicacy into your hand, as if expecting to see you. Childe would meet you in the middle of the mountains not by chance, but rather by a sense of curious boredom, wherein your company was the only suitable way to pass the time.

Subsequently, the only question remaining in a scenario such as this, was what the other meant to each of them — were you truly able to push your obligations aside, or were you only getting close enough to have enough leverage to strike?

On any occasion a disarming laugh left his mouth, or he lent you his support without question, you failed to remember that you were pitched as enemies in the first place. You inevitably no longer felt the same wariness towards the harbinger over time, but it only made you that much more guilty to know just how easily you had begun to trust him.

Yet no matter the hopeful sentiments your sputtering heart provided you, you knew one thing to be true that would always remain so: you would never be on the same side.

“You’ve already fulfilled your task as guide, so why do you still linger here? Haven’t you already seen enough trouble for today?”

You had entered the Golden House apprehensively, perhaps hoping even over the Exuvia’s safety that you wouldn’t meet him there. But coming upon it and hearing the one voice you had been dreading, you begrudgingly came to terms with the fact that you would have to face reality eventually.

“Huh?” Paimon is startled by the sudden disembodied voice. “Who’s there?!”

Childe reveals himself by coming up the stairs you had just now ascended, his saunter maddeningly casual. “If you were Fatui, I imagine that you would be entitled to a generous reward from the Tsaritsa yourself.”

The way he tilts his head with such fake amiability grates across you like nails on a chalkboard. “But now you’re nothing but dross -- and you’re in my way.”

“It looks like I was just in time, then.”

Childe laughs. “Although I’m deeply grateful to you for helping me so effortlessly find this secret location… don’t you think that trying to stop me now would only be a wasted effort?”

“Stopping the mora mints, hiding away the Exuvia,” He laughs again, and your hand instinctively makes a small stretch for your weapon. “And sending you. The Qixing are really pulling out all the stops this time.”

“So you were planning to take the gnosis all along?” You ask flatly, your words swallowed by your own hesitation just after you’d barely gotten out the last word. Even though this mishap wasn’t very detectable, shame burns the back of your throat at the honesty of the reflex.

“As one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers, it’s my duty to see the will of the Tsaritsa fulfilled. And she will get which she desires.”

You shake your head, fully grounding your hand and preparing to draw your sword. “Not if I don’t allow you to get near the Exuvia.”

“I’m not looking for your blessing, ___.” Childe narrows his eyes and takes note of this action, the implications of it drawing up a wanton sense of disappointment he had long been expecting. This varies little from your own dismay, unbeknownst to him. “There’s nothing you could do to stop me anyways.”

“The time for discussion and diplomacy has already long passed. I mean, if it were up to me, I would have skipped that stage to begin with… but, I’m willing to do as the Tsaritsa deems fit.”

“Either way,” An eyebrow arches as an equally intrigued smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “It seems we’re now coming upon my favourite part --  a simple pleasure, and one that I am oh-so delighted to be sharing with you.”

it’s as if a pin drops, and he grins. “The battle.”

You now stand at a fork. Two paths stare at you with expectant eyes, both equally enticing; but the drawbacks of the indulgent solution unfortunately long outweigh those of their obvious counterpart. It’s a decision that must be made on behalf of Liyue, not the hurt of a single heart.

Paimon scoffs, drawing you from your thoughts. “So you’re the type that goes looking for trouble, huh?”

Childe’s laughter rings out, and he throws his head back as if he had heard something particularly funny. “I guess you could say that!”

“When Signora offended the deities outside of the cathedral in Mondstadt, she swiftly left the scene once her mission was accomplished. Instead of confronting you directly, she chose to rely on the snow and ice to make an escape.”

“I would take that as far more than its face value. When she faces a worthy opponent, she will prioritise her mission, weigh the outcomes, and consider the consequences of her actions…” He explains, trailing off with an inexplicable smile. “But as for me, the greatest pleasure of being a harbinger lies in the opportunities I have to cross blades with such opponents.”

“That doesn’t mean we’ll let what happened in Mondstadt ever happen again.”

“Oh? So you do intend to fight me? Good.” Childe’s excitement baffles you and pumps adrenaline into your veins simultaneously. “I won’t kill you, ___, I’ll just play along. To feel the thrill of battle!”

“Besides,” He puts his hands out in an aimless gesture. “You could never defeat me, not even in your wildest dreams. But hey, try to relish in the fight anyways, because if you ask me… without that, what else is there?”

“I could never defeat you?!” His words get the better of you and you laugh in disbelief. “You’re completely delusional.”

He returns the laugh delightedly, igniting a fire of mixed emotions in your chest. “Fighting talk, I love it! Now, let’s see you live up to it.”

You draw your sword at the drop of his last word, taking a step back in preparation for what was to come. Childe, meanwhile, stands watching you with a brewing sensation of glee.

“This chance isn’t easy to come by, so show me all you’ve got.” Arrows infused with water begin to fly in your direction, though you avoid them in haste. “So very few ever get the chance to square off with a Fatui Harbinger, so come now, amuse me. And don’t you dare disappoint.”

You find yourself gritting your teeth at the arrogant words, taken aback at his challenging tone. “You say your colleague has found me praiseworthy, but tell me to only amuse you? That’s a disappointing downgrade.”

A lapse in the time Childe has to shoot gives you enough time to approach him, throwing out a strike of your sword that he catches with his own weapon moulded by water.

“It’s by no means an insult, ___, I’m merely proposing a challenge.” He looks at the way your blades grit against each other and grins. “And it seems you’ve accepted it.” You jump back with the force of his attack to propel yourself. A barrage of geo-aligned magic is summoned beneath your opponent with a stomp to the marble floor.

However, he sidesteps it in a similar fashion, and through a quick exchange of harsh blows, both of you stand back to scope things out. Still, the one aspect that continues to overshadow the rest of your thoughts is the way that Childe’s personality has changed under the scrutiny of battle.

The playful tone he normally sports is long gone, now replaced with a deeper and more realistic one; perhaps even slightly more menacing. It’s as if he’s been flipped into a completely different person.

He laughs maniacally as he uses his hydro vision to drive waves of water out towards you, fully intent on at least knocking you off your feet. The burst of elemental energy ends when Childe leaps back onto the ground. This gives you the leverage you need to go in with another geo attack, this time catching him off guard and launching him to the side.

Childe coughs at the force of the action, his lips curving up into a smile. “Good! No wonder signora was so wary of you.”

His body is encased in an impenetrable bubble of water in an instant, a flash of deep light lashing out from the centre before revealing Childe once again. His swords of water have since been infused by electro energy, and his clothes are darker -- the most noticeable difference, however, is the Fatui mask that had previously been slung over his hair now laid properly over his face.

“Well, that just means I can go all out! Brace yourself, this is about to get tough…” He takes a few preliminary steps. “Show me what you can do against the might of a Harbinger!”

The strikes do indeed get faster. Childe toughens up against seemingly every one of your attacks, dodging most if not all of with even more ease than before. you grit your teeth as you rush to keep up with the frequent blows thrown at you. But, in a panic and reflexive drawback, you retract your sword and desperately block with your arm instead.

Silence entraps the incredibly large room as your sword clatters noisily to the floor. Both the cloth running up the expanse of your arm and wrist piece are slashed considerably, all to reveal a shallow but long gash.

The sensation of electro wastes little time in taking effect, burning up your arm and inducing an inevitable cry of pain as both of you take a step back. Malleable emotion hangs in the heavy atmosphere, waiting to be addressed or otherwise plucked down from their higher place.

Though, his reaction in that split second shows that he might not be just as lost as you’d thought.

Childe has little courage to speak up on any of these topics, but in whatever way he chooses to ignore the berating voice in his head, he can’t push away the sensation of regret swimming in his chest. Watching your face briefly contort in pain you try so hard to hide, yet standing close and being unable to do anything about it -- it’s more real than any understating word his brain could ever feed him.

“What are you doing just standing there?” You suddenly taunt, your voice slightly hoarse as you turn to hide the blood that seeps into your clothing. “I thought you said that you were going to go all out.”

Childe knows that you're right. He had said that, but what would it mean for him to continue? Brawling with you brought the same drunkening high of adrenaline he’s been chasing since he escaped from the abyss all those years ago-- although hurting you wasn’t any sort of intention he’d ever had.

“...I’m only offering a moment to buffer, but I must say -- you’re not bad. Your swordsmanship is quite impressive.” Childe desperately swallows back anything extra that pops into his head and twirls his electrified staff. Personal desires are the last thing he can afford to pay attention to. “But, that’s about as far as you’ll get.”

You sloppily intercept a rough attack that threatens to send you flying backwards, gritting your teeth as you push back with the force of your Anemo power. It goes well for all but the way your arm begins to falter under the stress. Your head naturally follows your body’s trajectory, yet in your panic, the stroke your toed boot makes across the floor leaves a trail of blistering geo behind.

The elements present react immediately, resulting in a blinding explosion. You’re thrown off too quickly and land unsteadily, pain shooting up your arm as you exhale shakily -- you’d never had the misfortune of experiencing a hydro and electro vision working together before now.

“___, are you okay?” Paimon asks frantically, your tiny hands trying their best to locate the heart of the wound on your injured arm. “That cut looks deep, do you really think it’s a good idea to keep pushing yourself?”

You shake your head in dismissal as your eyes move with the clearing dust. “It’s fine, but my sword--?”

Once the haze disperses, you spot your sword almost instantly -- however, you also find Childe’s staff sticking haphazardly into the marble floor right next to it, its owner nowhere to be found.

A laugh sounds from behind you. “I really didn’t think you had that card hidden up your sleeve!”

Your heart drops into your stomach when you whip around to see Childe standing beside Rex Lapis’ corpse, his grin wide like he’d already won the match between you.

“You were just playing us to get close to the Exuvia!”

“Oh, quiet down. Don’t be so quick to judge. You’ve seen this world, you of all people should know...” Childe steadily gathers a ball of electro energy in his palm, the lightning fusing around his gloved hand before materialising. “That this should have been expected!”

The sound is deafening as Childe forces his hand into the Exuvia, opposing elements colliding and responding in turn. “I’ll be taking Morax’s gnosis now!”

Shockwaves come out like tides as the entire room shakes under the pressure of the single action. You’re quick to shield your injured arm from the battering wind, while Paimon latches onto the ornament covering your elbow.

Yet, much to everyone’s surprise, the hand that emerges and unfolds under the glaring light is very much empty.

Childe is taken aback by the particles of light that float from his gloved hand, laughing in frustration as well as bewilderment. “I see. Well, this is most unexpected.”

He turns to look at you through his mask, taking in the equally as surprised expression that moulds your features. But the detail that begins to surface ignites a different, and entirely real type of irritation in him, is the way that your eyes begin to change.

“Morax’s gnosis is far from another old antique,” Ningguang had prefaced this when you had visited her in the Jade Chamber, her words stable and forward. “It is a sign of Liyue’s reigning power, and also a symbol for the people to look towards; as not only a god, but also the keeper of peace. This is not something that would be hidden carelessly.”

“Many people throughout my years as a Qixing have tried to outsmart the layers close to the gnosis, however, none have succeeded. Its protector is someone of utmost secrecy whose identity I must not reveal, not even to you.”

She had sighed, placing a warm yet distant smile on her face. “But, I believe this method will continue to deter unwanted hands, along with you in their capable stead.”

Your eyes widen as you take an instinctual step back. You’d found it nearly impossible when tasked with feeding the Harbinger outdated details, though your heart feels heavy in realising that it had gone to show how much Childe truly did learn to trust you.

But, it had worked, hadn’t it? Because of this, the exuvia was somewhere far away -- in capable hands, as Ningguang had phrased it. Yet you feel little want to celebrate this small victory, immediately reminded of the situation it’s caused as Childe’s vision flares up around him, warping his figure in your eyes.

“You… You beat me to it, didn’t you?” Childe doesn’t miss your sense of victory being quickly replaced by fear, but in a fit of irritation, he takes no time in disregarding it.

He leaps haphazardly into the centre of the room, forcing you to careen out of the way as his electro vision fries the air around you. It becomes stuffy and unbearably hot in the enclosed space entirely too quickly. But, throughout the sudden drastic change in their atmosphere, you can’t help but notice the second transformation that Childe has gone through; yet rather this time, it’s much more drastic.

Once the air dissipates, Childe leaps back to the floor once again, his heavy military boots marking his step indefinitely. The attire he wears is fittingly close to armour -- presenting a deep blue and purple suit that fits like a second skin.

“Not a bad trick,” His spear of water that had since been lodged in the marble floor flies into his hand, twirling to rest on his shoulder as his voice stabilises. “But, this is going to cost you!”

The same weapon is pushed into the ground with overflowing destructive power. It quickly runs veins out like web beneath your feet, electro charge roughly and abruptly breaking the floor to reveal another space below.

You're dragged down indiscriminately amongst the falling debris, roughly colliding with the sharp edges before hitting the ground once again. Your arm, still slightly bleeding and swollen, screams at the harsh impact. Though having landed on your stomach meant that other parts of your body had absorbed most of the shock, natural reflexes had forced you to receive some of the heavier damage in your arm regardless.

There wasn’t a lot that you could do about this, however, other than pick yourself up again and hope that Childe was still too high up to see your pain clearly. Thankfully, lo and behold, a purple light just then begins to descend almost hauntingly through the smoke. It blinks out briefly before revealing Childe again as every messy part of the room is blown away by an incredible elemental power.

You hold up your uninjured arm to combat against the strong wind, wincing as your body is forced back.

“You got to the gnosis ahead of me, didn’t you?” Childe’s staff finally rests in his hand, however, the aura he gives off alone is enough to make you antsy. “Did you simply move faster? Or… did you leak the information regarding the Golden House to me on purpose?”

“...You’ve outsmarted me, ___. But that doesn’t mean the information won’t be in my hands by the time we’re done.” Another electric current fills the room as he moves to make an attack. “So, fight hard knowing there's something of such value on the line.”

Your eyes flicker around the room for your sword as you say, “How do you know that I have any of the information you need? That’s betting a lot on nothing.”

He laughs, the familiar sound chilling.

“You don’t have to be omnipotent to take a best guess. Besides, I’m confident enough in knowing that you’re smart enough to play me, so a battle between friends to determine that isn’t too much of a stretch, is it?”

You spot the sword and take a hesitant step towards it, attempting to return his words as a distraction. “It’s strange to call me a friend and threaten to put a knife in my chest in the same sentence. I thought you said that you weren’t going to kill me?”

Childe pauses, debating his next words carefully. “...Conditions are ever-changing.”

“If they were going to change so drastically, you should have told me earlier. Maybe then I could’ve figured out how to explain something I don’t know the answer to.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, ___.” His delusion’s deeper tone makes even the most playful of his words sound threatening. You stand your ground, though, knowing that no matter what your apprehension presents, nothing will change the fact that your weapon is only a mere step away.

“I know that you can tell me.”

You know I can? The supposedly comforting statement bounces around in your head, creating a ringing in your ears and a painful drumming against your temples. It’s not that simple, you think. There's little he wouldn’t be able to get from you if gone about the right way, however, as long as the information remained important, it would stay unattainable to even him.

You grit your teeth, feet twisting boldly into a position that’ll make it easier to leap in the direction you need. “I won’t tell you anything,” The leap is short and filled with almost too much strength, but you make up for any shortcomings by turning to block the incredibly close blow Childe had thrust out to stop you.

You push your sword against his with the force of all of your irritation, jaw clenched as your words come out in a single breath. “Because I know that I don’t have anything to say to the person that betrayed me.”

Unsurprisingly, words like those are some of the last that Childe wants to hear at that moment. No amount of guilt tripping or humiliation was typically enough to get to him, however, your simple declaration hits him in a spot that he’s long tried to bury.

Childe scoffs, pretending that he hadn’t blatantly hesitated. “You’re not fit to be here if you’re shaken by the betrayal of someone like me. Take it from me and give up while you’re ahead.”

You’re stunned by Childe’s brutal words for a brief moment, leaving him an important window to more easily knock your weapon away, out of your weakened hands. His blade meets your throat with little hesitation, the cool water stinging against your overheated skin.

Childe’s eyes wander to the way your body turns slightly to protect your injured arm, and disregarding the way his stomach twists, he shakes his head. “What’s wrong, ___? The way you are now won’t be able to defeat me.”

He looks at the way you hesitate and the already putrid feeling in his gut turns rotting. You make no more effort to fight back despite your strength, nor move the weapon lying firmly right over one of your weakest points.

“I might end up killing you if you don’t tell me where the gnosis is.” Childe tries to push you further, but is taken aback when your brows knit as if frustrated. You know very well that he’s someone with bad intentions, yet why do you continue to yearn to see the good in him? To see the carefree person you’d known before today?

You don’t respond, unmoving beneath his heavy gaze for all but the way your hands begin to slowly hover up towards the sword pressuring your neck.

Why can’t you stop?

Your shaking hands take the blade lightly in your grip, the vision-adjacent water searing your battered skin. A droplet of sweat slides down your cheek yet all you can focus on is the way Childe’s eyes instantly delve into panic.

“If you’re going to kill me, you should hurry up and save us both the suffering.”

The sudden powerful statement sounds unreal coming from such a weakened person, blood running down your fingers as you force his sword away.

“What makes you think that your death would cause me any harm?” Childe’s heart thumps wildly beneath his clothes as he lets his weapon be redirectioned, but his brows furrow. “I used you. Do you have yet to realise that?”

“You think I’m so inept that I would believe in someone so fast?” Your fingers go to nestle in the fabric of your skirt, the clothing acting as a temporary shield from the pain. “It was no secret that you weren’t someone to be trusted.”

“Then why lead me here if you’re so confident in yourself? Surely you don’t think that picking a fight with me was a sound idea?”

“You came here yourself. I was never looking to fight.” You mumble truthfully, taking your hand away from your skirt to reveal your palms stained with blood. “...I only said what I did because I don't like hurting those I care about.”

Childe stands paralysed in shock upon hearing such honest words, his mouth opening and closing as he rushes to process their meaning. What could he possibly say to that?

You hadn’t left a single mark on him despite believing that you were fighting for your life, whereas he had prioritised outside matters over listening to his internal backlash -- he had hurt you in a simple twisted warning.

“___, you--”

He’s barely able to get a sentence out before you sigh, going up to him with little hope before wrapping your arms around him.

Childe exhales unsteadily, his weapons then evaporating as his torso and arms instinctively straighten up. Moments of complete stillness go by unhindered. But, you wait patiently for any type of response from the man in your arms.

“...___.” He finally mumbles this from above your head, voice incredibly soft. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You’re at a loss as for how to respond, because truthfully -- the answer is mostly lost even to you. All you can do is drown in the silence that you’ve created, heart picking out the worst parts of the way his posture stays tense.

Childe groans abruptly, his delusion slowly beginning to break down to reveal his normal clothes. “Come on,”

As if something restricting him had suddenly been removed, he staggers and sinks to his knees, body going limp at the sudden lapse in support of his vision. Though fortunately, you follow him even while he goes down.

Your arms struggle to support the sudden weight as his chin lulls forward, colliding with your shoulder just as your knees hit the floor. He’s not entirely weak, you think, noticing the way he purposely tries to shift a lot of pressure off of you. Though you don’t know much about his delusion, it seems viable to assume that the form had just exhausted a decent amount of energy.

You feel the heat of his hands hesitantly coming upon your sides, but much to your disappointment, they quickly retract before he mumbles, “You’re a fool.”

“I know.” You whisper. “But, it’s too late. I can’t give up on you now.”

Childe scoffs, the sound muffled by your shoulder as he brings his arms up around you. He embraces you so tightly that it’s as if you’ve struck something inside him.

Those words are so unfair, they almost give me hope.

[hellomynameisbisexual]

Here's a shortlist of those who realized that I — a cis woman who'd identified as heterosexual for decades of life — was in fact actually bi, long before I realized it myself recently: my sister, all my friends, my boyfriend, and the TikTok algorithm.

On TikTok, the relationship between user and algorithm is uniquely (even sometimes uncannily) intimate. An app which seemingly contains as many multitudes of life experiences and niche communities as there are people in the world, we all start in the lowest common denominator of TikTok. Straight TikTok (as it's popularly dubbed) initially bombards your For You Page with the silly pet videos and viral teen dances that folks who don't use TikTok like to condescendingly reduce it to.

Quickly, though, TikTok begins reading your soul like some sort of divine digital oracle, prying open layers of your being never before known to your own conscious mind. The more you use it, the more tailored its content becomes to your deepest specificities, to the point where you get stuff that's so relatable that it can feel like a personal attack (in the best way) or (more dangerously) even a harmful trigger from lifelong traumas.

For example: I don't know what dark magic (read: privacy violations) immediately clued TikTok into the fact that I was half-Brazilian, but within days of first using it, Straight TikTok gave way to at first Portuguese-speaking then broader Latin TikTok. Feeling oddly seen (being white-passing and mostly American-raised, my Brazilian identity isn't often validated), I was liberal with the likes, knowing that engagement was the surefire way to go deeper down this identity-affirming corner of the social app.

TikTok made lots of assumptions from there, throwing me right down the boundless, beautiful, and oddest multiplicities of Alt TikTok, a counter to Straight TikTok's milquetoast mainstreamness.

Home to a wide spectrum of marginalized groups, I was giving out likes on my FYP like Oprah, smashing that heart button on every type of video: from TikTokers with disabilities, Black and Indigenous creators, political activists, body-stigma-busting fat women, and every glittering shade of the LGBTQ cornucopia. The faves were genuine, but also a way to support and help offset what I knew about the discriminatory biases in TikTok's algorithm.

My diverse range of likes started to get more specific by the minute, though. I wasn't just on general Black TikTok anymore, but Alt Cottagecore Middle-Class Black Girl TikTok (an actual label one creator gave her page's vibes). Then it was Queer Latina Roller Skating Girl TikTok, Women With Non-Hyperactive ADHD TikTok, and then a double whammy of Women Loving Women (WLW) TikTok alternating between beautiful lesbian couples and baby bisexuals.

Looking back at my history of likes, the transition from queer “ally” to “salivating simp” is almost imperceptible.

There was no one precise "aha" moment. I started getting "put a finger down" challenges that wouldn't reveal what you were putting a finger down for until the end. Then, 9-fingers deep (winkwink), I'd be congratulated for being 100% bisexual. Somewhere along the path of getting served multiple WLW Disney cosplays in a single day and even dom lesbian KinkTok roleplay — or whatever the fuck Bisexual Pirate TikTok is — deductive reasoning kind of spoke for itself.

But I will never forget the one video that was such a heat-seeking missile of a targeted attack that I was moved to finally text it to my group chat of WLW friends with a, "Wait, am I bi?" To which the overwhelming consensus was, "Magic 8 Ball says, 'Highly Likely.'"

Serendipitously posted during Pride Month, the video shows a girl shaking her head at the caption above her head, calling out confused and/or closeted queers who say shit like, "I think everyone is a LITTLE bisexual," to the tune of "Closer" by The Chainsmokers. When the lyrics land on the word "you," she points straight at the screen — at me — her finger and inquisitive look piercing my hopelessly bisexual soul like Cupid's goddamn arrow.

Oh no, the voice inside my head said, I have just been mercilessly perceived.

As someone who had, in fact, done feminist studies at a tiny liberal arts college with a gender gap of about 70 percent women, I'd of course dabbled. I've always been quick to bring up the Kinsey scale, to champion a true spectrum of sexuality, and to even declare (on multiple occasions) that I was, "straight, but would totally fuck that girl!"

Oh no, the voice inside my head returned, I've literally just been using extra words to say I was bi.

After consulting the expertise of my WLW friend group (whose mere existence, in retrospect, also should've clued me in on the flashing neon pink, purple, and blue flag of my raging bisexuality), I ran to my boyfriend to inform him of the "news."

"Yeah, baby, I know. We all know," he said kindly.

"How?!" I demanded.

Well for one, he pointed out, every time we came across a video of a hot girl while scrolling TikTok together, I'd without fail watch the whole way through, often more than once, regardless of content. (Apparently, straight girls do not tend to do this?) For another, I always breathlessly pointed out when we'd pass by a woman I found beautiful, often finding a way to send a compliment her way. ("I'm just a flirt!" I used to rationalize with a hand wave, "Obvs, I'm not actually sexually attracted to them!") Then, I guess, there were the TED Talk-like rants I'd subject him to about the thinly veiled queer relationship in Adventure Time between Princess Bubblegum and Marcelyne the Vampire Queen — which the cowards at Cartoon Network forced creators to keep as subtext!

And, well, when you lay it all out like that...

But my TikTok-fueled bisexual awakening might actually speak less to the omnipotence of the app's algorithm, and more to how heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

Sure, TikTok bombarded me with the thirst traps of my exact type of domineering masc lady queers, who reduced me to a puddle of drool I could no longer deny. But I also recalled a pivotal moment in college when I briefly questioned my heterosexuality, only to have a lesbian friend roll her eyes and chastise me for being one of those straight girls who leads Actual Queer Women on. I figured she must know better. So I never pursued any of my lady crushes in college, which meant I never experimented much sexually, which made me conclude that I couldn't call myself bisexual if I'd never had actual sex with a woman. I also didn't really enjoy lesbian porn much, though the fact that I'd often find myself fixating on the woman during heterosexual porn should've clued me into that probably coming more from how mainstream lesbian porn is designed for straight men.

The ubiquity of heterormativity, even when unwittingly perpetrated by members of the queer community, is such an effective self-sustaining cycle. Aside from being met with queer-gating (something I've since learned bi folks often experience), I had a hard time identifying my attraction to women as genuine attraction, simply because it felt different to how I was attracted to men.

Heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

So much of women's sexuality — of my sexuality — can feel defined by that carnivorous kind of validation you get from men. I met no societal resistance in fully embodying and exploring my desire for men, either (which, to be clear, was and is insatiable slut levels of wanting that peen.) But in retrospect, I wonder how many men I slept with not because I was truly attracted to them, but because I got off on how much they wanted me.

My attraction to women comes with a different texture of eroticism. With women (and bare with a baby bi, here), the attraction feels more shared, more mutual, more tender rather than possessive. It's no less raw or hot or all-consuming, don't get me wrong. But for me at least, it comes more from a place of equality rather than just power play. I love the way women seem to see right through me, to know me, without us really needing to say a word.

I am still, as it turns out, a sexual submissive through-and-through, regardless of what gender my would-be partner is. But, ignorantly and unknowingly, I'd been limiting my concept of who could embody dominant sexual personas to cis men. But when TikTok sent me down that glorious rabbit hole of masc women (who know exactly what they're doing, btw), I realized my attraction was not to men, but a certain type of masculinity. It didn't matter which body or genitalia that presentation came with.

There is something about TikTok that feels particularly suited to these journeys of sexual self-discovery and, in the case of women loving women, I don't think it's just the prescient algorithm. The short-form video format lends itself to lightning bolt-like jolts of soul-bearing nakedness, with the POV camera angles bucking conventions of the male gaze, which entrenches the language of film and TV in heterosexual male desire.

In fairness to me, I'm far from the only one who missed their inner gay for a long time — only to have her pop out like a queer jack-in-the-box throughout a near year-long quarantine that led many of us to join TikTok. There was the baby bi mom, and scores of others who no longer had to publicly perform their heterosexuality during lockdown — only to realize that, hey, maybe I'm not heterosexual at all?

Flooded with video after video affirming my suspicions, reflecting my exact experiences as they happened to others, the change in my sexual identity was so normalized on TikTok that I didn't even feel like I needed to formally "come out." I thought this safe home I'd found to foster my baby bisexuality online would extend into the real world.

But I was in for a rude awakening.

Testing out my bisexuality on other platforms, casually referring to it on Twitter, posting pictures of myself decked out in a rainbow skate outfit (which I bought before realizing I was queer), I received nothing but unquestioning support and validation. Eventually, I realized I should probably let some members of my family know before they learned through one of these posts, though.

Daunted by the idea of trying to tell my Latina Catholic mother and Swiss Army veteran father (who's had a crass running joke about me being a "lesbian" ever since I first declared myself a feminist at age 12), I chose the sibling closest to me. Seeing as how gender studies was one of her majors in college too, I thought it was a shoo-in. I sent an off-handed, joke-y but serious, "btw I'm bi now!" text, believing that's all that would be needed to receive the same nonchalant acceptance I found online.

It was not.

I didn't receive a response for two days. Hurt and panicked by what was potentially my first mild experience of homophobia, I called them out. They responded by insisting we need to have a phone call for such "serious" conversations. As I calmly tried to express my hurt on said call, I was told my text had been enough to make this sibling worry about my mental wellbeing. They said I should be more understanding of why it'd be hard for them to (and I'm paraphrasing) "think you were one way for twenty-eight years" before having to contend with me deciding I was now "something else."

But I wasn't "something else," I tried to explain, voice shaking. I hadn't knowingly been deceiving or hiding this part of me. I'd simply discovered a more appropriate label. But it was like we were speaking different languages. Other family members were more accepting, thankfully. There are many ways I'm exceptionally lucky, my IRL environment as supportive as Baby Bi TikTok. Namely, I'm in a loving relationship with a man who never once mistook any of it as a threat, instead giving me all the space in the world to understand this new facet of my sexuality.

I don't have it all figured out yet. But at least when someone asks if I listen to Girl in Red on social media, I know to answer with a resounding, "Yes," even though I've never listened to a single one of her songs. And for now, that's enough.

[pridewhatpride]

omg pls talk more about GX rival shipping once the transfer students come

Dear anon, I love you for asking this of me, but I have to wonder if you want everyone who follows me to start hating me.

Long post coming up? You know it. I apologise to all Johan fans, he's great and I loved him and his deck as a child. Now I'm just salty because he's too perfect. Warning because this is a mess of unrequited feelings and it's an all around bad time if you ship anything in gx. I did mention I do not practice self care in a previous post of mine. Enjoy your pain c:

So here are my bad takes of the day, under the very handy cut!

You see, gx rivalshipping becomes a lot more complicated and angsty when the transfer students arrive. The dynamic changes. If there is a dynamic at all. I mean, imagine yourself in Manjoume's shoes. You've lowkey had a crush on this dumb guy who kind of ruined your life (but actually improved it and freed you from the restraints your family imposed on you), just to watch a handsome scandinavian dude who is a lot more muscular than you are and maybe a little bit nicer, maybe just waltz in and completely captivate said dumb guy's attention. Just when you had managed to admit your own feelings to yourself.

Johan comes in and steals the room, everybody loves him, he's good looking, charismatic, kind and has a magical exclusive shiny sparkling deck at his disposal that he uses as if it was the most natural thing in the world, like he hadn't received approval Pegasus himself on top of the duel spirits. And Judai clearly can't get enough of it, because he's always seeking him out, ever since the duel they had in front of everyone, and Manjoume finds that he's really annoyed by it. He wishes he'd been chosen for the demonstration, deluding himself into believing that if he'd won, Judai would have never started caring so damn much about Johan. But a part of him knows he would have probably lost and that even if he hadn't, Judai would have not cared about the outcome at all. It's nice to think that winning a card game can solve all your problems, but, while Manjoume has only ever experienced how much losing one can mess with your life goals, he isn't stupid enough to think that winning would grant him happiness. Not anymore. No well-thought-out strategy can rid him of his bad temper and his worthless pride.

The thing is, he can't really hate Johan, because nobody can hate Johan. He's just the perfect picture of everything Manjoume isn't and, going by everyone's reaction, the fact that 'everyone is unique in their own way and worthy of love' is absolute bullshit. There clearly is an objective better one of the two and Manjoume is very aware that he isn't it. And he'd probably begrundgingly be cool with it, after all he'd accepted that Jaden was braver than him, that Asuka was emotionally stronger and more resolute, that Daichi was smarter, not to mention how much plain better than him his fomer upperclassmen were. Forget about pros like Edo, whom Judai had stood on equal grounds with. But Judai is clearly playing favourites, too, hell, he hardly even acknowledges Manjoume.

He finds himself forcibly removed from his already shaky position as rival, because now Johan is there to take it up, on top of the titles of 'best friend' and 'emotional support and crutch' and 'maybe something else I'd really rather not know'.

Manjoume just generally hates it all. He might have changed and improved himself, but there is no saving him from the fact that some people were just better. That doesn't stop him from trying. But again he finds himself pitted against Judai, the irony of his fate never giving him a moment to rest. Manipulated and turned into the enemy of those he cares about, again.

A part of him despises how good it feels to learn that Johan has gone missing, but Judai is screaming like his arms have been torn off and while he hates that it's all for Johan, he hates that Judai is in pain even more. Judai had saved him before and it's only right for him to return the favour. So he insists on helping him on his stupidly risky plan to save Johan. And it's all to get the old Judai back.

...The rest, from Manjoume's perspective is a mess. His feelings of anger stem from the hatred he harbours towards himself and the bond between Judai and Johan. He'd been trying to help, he had, he sincerely had, but everything just swirled together and the next thing he knows is that he is shouting at Judai because it suddenly made sense to guilt trip him over the fact that he'd abandoned his friends, he'd abandoned him as soon as someone better had come into the picture. And it was Judai's fault for letting them- him believe that he cared when he didn't, when he couldn't have cared less, because clearly he had one priority only and that was Johan. They had come to help and it still wasn't being appreciated.

Disappearing is a relief, for a moment, but then he finds himself in another hellish place and he can't help but think that it's retribution for being so upset over something that has nothing to do with him. That's right. It's his own fault for making Judai, his only real friend (aside from Fubuki, sorry for breaking the immersion, but I love Fubuki), carry the burden of the stupid hopes that came with his feelings. Judai has no fault. Johan has no fault. It's his own for desiring something that would always be out of reach.

As he is tortured by his own thoughts and regrets in the other dimension, Manjoume silently wishes his words meant nothing to Judai, that he'd be spared the pain of betrayal. He wishes Judai can achieve his goal.

When Shou appears to him, he knows there is no time to waste. If he is alive, the others are, too. Judai would want to know that they are safe. So he asks Shou to carry his message, along with his good luck wish. He hopes it's enough to make up for his mistakes.

Next thing he knows, they are back at DA, Judai is nowhere to be seen. Manjoume mourns the loss of his first and only friend and curses himself for tarnishing that memory. (Judai's return and season 4 would be too much to cover, this was only Manjoume's pov and I might as well just rewrite the entire show at this point.)

So what about Judai?

I personally want to believe that he genuinely does like Manjoume at some point. But as much as it pains me to admit it, season 3 just wrote Manjoume off from the list of main characters and relegated him to 'he's your funny comic relief, nobody really gives a shit about what he thinks or feels, so why should you, the spectator who has grown to love him, care at all? Also here's his sticker that confirms that Judai going after Johan makes him really angry for some reason, make of that what you will c:' (fuck the writing staff, I'm not even sorry).

Judai is so clearly smitten with Johan. It seems to me that his refusal to accept Manjoume's help that one time on the cliff shows that Judai doesn't really understand the way Jun operates. He probably labeled him as just someone else who counted on him to be saved. And sure, Manjoume is saved by Judai in multiple occasions, but he doesn't ever really... ask for it? Or more importantly expect it. He doesn't get himself into situations he can't handle because Judai can save him anyways, the trouble just kind of happens at him and more often than not he's only involved by accident, because he happens to be close to Judai.

The problem still stands, as season 3 starts, Judai is very much burdened by everyone's expectations and Johan is a breath of fresh air and the only one Judai actually considers a friend and an equal. It's heartbreaking that he felt that alone.

They get their gay 'have we met somewhere before moment', they duel gaily, they homoerotically tell eachother how admirable the other is, they shamelessly flirt and whoohoo Judai has an unofficial boyfriend and who can blame him for concentrating on him along with wanting to escape the pressure his former gang unknowingly laid on him.

But yeah, Judai in season 3 has a one track mind and it's hard not to see it as romantic. Does he know it is? Maybe? I honestly don't know. I feel like Johan is the one of the two who is aware of the implications of their interactions. Which also kind of brings me to say... does Johan think that all of Judai's friends are horrible people? Because he never once comments on how Judai distances himself from them once he arrives. He probably thinks they were never good friends in the first place.

Judai probably excuses his attentions towards Johan with the fact that they are alike because they can see spirits, but then he rememebers that so can Manjoume and maybe he feels guilty for a second, but Johan cracks a joke and Judai laughs and thinks to himself that Manjoume is probably happy to have the peace and quiet he so often claimed to want.

Like... I think a part of him would get that tightness in his chest because it's like he's betrayed someone, but he knows he hasn't, because there isn't any actual mutual agreement he's going against. So he lets himself fall deeper into the comfort of Johan's presence. Johan is, to Judai, the ideal person. He is exactly who Judai wants to become. Judai admires him very deeply and strives to be more like him, but he falls gradually into despair as he learns, once Johan is gone, that no, he can't be like him, because Johan is so much better than him, and if he doesn't get him back soon he might even forget what he was like in the first place. Johan can't be erased, can't be forgotten. And Judai feels like he's vanishing already, so he throws himself into a wild interdimensional manhunt to save his hopes for the future.

Turns out that wanting to do good doens't always result in a good outcome. That's what Judai learns when Manjoume lashes out at him just seconds before disappearing. Along with the others, too. Judai doesn't even have the brain power to compute that some people are still there, that he can still save someone, because he realised then that he had focused so much on Johan that he'd completely overlooked the fact that while his friends relied on him a little too much, they hadn't meant any harm. And if he'd just told them, maybe they would have been fine, they could've cooperated- but Manjoume had told him that he was a traitor, that he'd doomed them with his irrational behaviour.

Manjoume's last words to him had been spoken with hatred and Judai realised only then that he had misread him entirely. He lets despair and self hatred take over as he realises that if he had managed to hurt the ones he cared about so easily, discarding them for the new good thing, he could just keep doing that. And it would stop hurting, eventually.

I like to think that Manjoume really does have an impact on the awakening of the Supreme King. Yeah, I know he only turns once Johan's death is mentioned, I know. I just suffer from abandonment issues and can't stand that Manjoume dying in front of him is more impactful to Judai than a guy who literally can't be trusted saying "Joke's on you, the one you're looking for is in another castle already dead."

So yeah. That's the angsty overview.

TL;DR Johan is an Adonis, Judai is smitten and Manjoume is very very heartbroken. But actually so is Judai. Because while being with Johan feels right, there's someone whose absence feels wrong, but he doesn't allow himself to dwell on it and everything goes to shit. All around a bad time for everyone and they'll have a lot of talking to do once they properly reconcile after graduation.

[boop-le-snoot]

skin starving

tony stark x f!reader fluff. no warnings, just a few f-bombs. touch starved tony’s third person pov. words: 2,5k. no beta because i just really needed to get this off my chest.

recommended music to go with the story: two feet - 'love is a bitch' & 'quick musical doodles'. Or any lo-fi hip-hop radio really.

It started as an itch. At first, a small but bothersome thing, that kept him up at night, steering the already unreasonable hours of wakefulness into dangerous territory. The cold of his bed was unappealing and more often than not, he’d started passing out on the flat surfaces nearest to him: workshop, lab, common room couch, the lazy boy in Bruce’s apartment.

The team noticed, of course, they weren’t blind. They all had been on edge the first few months after Pepper left him. They expected him to act out, lock himself up in his lab or go back to his old habits of boozing and bringing home a different girl every night. And he had tried that, once or twice, but airheaded twenty-somethings weren’t appealing anymore. Most of the time their ass kissing and blatantly flattery annoyed him further into self-loathing abyss. He simply couldn’t step up to be the kind of man they described him to be - it seemed as if every woman on planet Earth had a whole list of expectations he specifically could not meet.

With Thor off planet, not one remaining person on the team was particularly touchy-feely. And that was the thing with Tony Stark: as an engineer, as a mechanic, he made his way through the world hands-first, every approach he had was hands-on. During late nights and early mornings, he laid in bed, sleepless and dreamless, desperately refusing to admit his own touch starvation.

Whenever Rogers threw an arm around his shoulders during a particularly successful team bonding activity, it took every ounce of willpower Tony had to not lean into it and purr like a cat. He hadn’t truly forgiven Steve for his cold, cruel words of criticism shortly after Pepper’s departing. He wasn’t going to chummy up to a man who thought him selfish, opportunistic and self-absorbed.

Tony became irritable and withdrawn. He simultaneously craved and avoided even the casual, friendlier attention his teammates gave him on a daily basis. His usual snark became that much more biting, having caused several people to storm out of team meetings.

On a cold autumn morning, Tony had found his way at the tower’s Starbucks on the employee floor. He had squeezed a generous five hours of restless sleep and he was sick of the plain black coffee in his kitchen. A spontaneous desire for something sweet and creamy and caffeinated led him to the place in line at the cafeteria, only a few early birds ahead of him.

Tony’s brain was hazy as it had been past few weeks, dull from the lack of rest and the hyperfixation of his own skin feeling alien to him. For once, he wasn’t typing away on his StarkPhone as he usually did to avoid being bothered; Tony stared straight ahead, unseeing, nothing but white noise in his usually racing brain.

Two women stood in front of him and he couldn’t help but overhear a part of their conversation.

“… Are you really horny or just lonely or touch-starved, though? I mean, Tinder? It’s not really your style.”

“Eh, I dunno. Probably the second but it’s not like men go on Tinder to find a cuddle buddy.”

“Well, maybe? I’ve heard about arrangements like that.”

“No offense, babe, but it’s probably kids in their early twenties. Those gen-z’s, babe, are weird. I’m not really up to date on all of that.”

The topic of the conversation was what piqued Tony’s interest; the world liked rubbing salt into his wounds and hysterically laugh at his misfortune. Bleary-eyed, he briefly scanned the two women: both appeared to be interns or junior techs in his company, evident by the purple employee badges hanging from their bags.

“So what are you going to do?” One woman asked the other as their turn to order took Tony one step closer to obtaining his desired caffeine.

“Unless someone normal magically appears with an offer of no-strings-attached, good ole’ snuggle fest, I guess I’m getting dicked down on Saturday,” The other replied with a teasing tone. The lack of excitement in the last part of the sentence was obvious.

“Gross,” The first one shook her head and hurriedly rattled off her order to the barista who looked about as disgruntled as Tony felt.

Hours and three coffees later, Tony’s overactive brain was still stuck on that woman from the cafeteria. Her back, her purse stuffed full of colorful manila folders, her neatly gathered hair - Tony Stark had nearly perfect memory and he remembered every single detail despite his brain fog. Objectively, she was attractive, no more no less than a different dozen of women he’d seen at any point in his life before. So why was he hung up on her?

It didn’t take him a long time to find her file, faster than he’d liked to admit. Manually sorting through hundreds of interns, lab technicians and various second-tier employees wasn’t exactly considered productive but with Pepper and her nagging out of the picture, Tony could afford to slack off a little bit.

So he found her name and her e-mail address, skimmed over her performance report with satisfaction, finding her to be a busy bee in the 90-th percentile. Her superiors considered her trustworthy, hard-working and communicative, all good traits.

Pepper’s absence meant he’d have no one to cover his ass should he get slapped with a harassment suit; however, he was the Tony Stark after all. He had more money that he’d cared to count and an army of lawyers at his disposal 24/7.

Amidst the jumbled mess of wires, circuit boards, tablets, empty coffee cups and the occasional piece of paper, Tony typed up an e-mail to the woman sharing his… Condition.

“I heard you and your friend talking at Starbucks. I could use a cuddle buddy. Wine and Netflix at my place? What’s your takeout preference?”

No. That came off way too creepy, like he was some kind of a dirty eavesdropper.

He contemplated some more, typing up and erasing multiple e-mails with various proposals: his penthouse, her place, a three Michelin star restaurant, a walk in the park. Almost all of it screamed ‘date’, like he’d drag her off to bed the very moment an opportunity wouldn’t present itself. It wasn’t so: Tony Stark, the playboy genius, had his dick firmly tucked into his pants. The thought of fucking her crossed his mind only briefly, quickly being chased away by the thought of her fingers running through his hair. Her warm, soft body in his arms. Just laying on his couch, eyes closed, reveling in each other’s arms.

Tony hit send on the least obnoxious option. He baited his breath, clicking his fingers in anticipation as the message showed itself to having been delivered.

“Mary, is this you trying to be funny? Stark is going to fire you if he finds out you’re impersonating him to stop your friend from going on a questionable date. Grow up.” Came the very prompt reply, ending with a short string of angry emojis. Tony could totally trust a person who used emojis unironically and generously.

“For the record, I wouldn’t be mad if somebody pretended to be me for the sake of saving their cute friend from a creep. The problem would be making it look credible.” Tony typed up the answer without thinking, quickly snapping a picture of himself holding the Starbucks cup with his name written on it, throwing his usual sloppy peace sign. He attached it to the email and hit send.

“WTF” Came the reply not a minute afterwards. He let it sink in, giving the woman some time to gather her wits. She did not disappoint. “Okay, even if we pretend this is real - which I doubt - what’s in it for you? If you heard our conversation, you surely know my stance on the matter.”

“I’m always glad to prove you wrong. I’m a genius - comes with the territory.” Tony simply couldn’t resist adding a generous dose of snark. “You’re welcome to meet me after clocking out. Use the private elevator, my AI will beam you up.”

The reply took a considerably long amount of time, seeing as previously, she typed back rather quickly. “Please don’t be a creepy rapist, Scotty. Fingers crossed.” Tony managed to almost break his stylus twice. His hands shook, and he had to tell himself to breathe - still, he laughed at the clever way she replied.

Several more hours later, during which Tony had nearly paced a hole through various floors on the residential side of the tower, he took a quick shower, dressed in a flattering but comfortable designer sweatpants and polo combo and made himself at home on the obscenely large living room sofa on his own, private penthouse floor.

He was up and running towards the elevator when Friday’s voice notified him of the woman entering the elevator on the employee floor. Tony tousled his hair, adjusted his glasses, fiddled with the drawstring of his pants.

The woman was wearing casual office wear, pants and a loose blouse, a lab coat loosely draped over her arm and her purse hanging off the shoulder on a thin strap. Her hair was loose now, a little frizzy as if she continuously ran her hands through it. Tony quietly rejoiced at not being the only nervous one.

Clever eyes scanned the room with unhurried interest before finally landing on him. “Not too shabby, if I say so myself,” The corners of her mouth tilted in an attempt at a smile, it was obvious she was studying him.

“Thanks, I try my best,” Tony smirked. Humble he was not. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“I see a comfortable couch,” She looked to be grateful for being given the opportunity to lead this interaction. “Let’s park our behinds on it, bicker for ten minutes about a movie choice and settle on one none of us really like. Then we can tell each other our no-no zones and, well, yeah,” She started out confidently. Probably practiced in the elevator. But towards the end, her shyness took over.

For Tony, it was kind of cute. A nice change from suck-ups that flocked him at every social gathering in hopes of getting something out of him. The woman that had tossed her bag carelessly on the far end of the couch and untucked her blouse looked and felt like the exact opposite of those people. She looked willing to give.

Tony sat next to her, keeping a couple of inches of free space between them. “Food preferences? Food allergies?” He asked, tapping the food delivery application.

“Nope, and I will eat just about anything.” He felt more than saw her side-eyeing him. Both of them were jittery. So uncharacteristic for Tony, to be blushing and stammering like a high school boy. Sex was easy, but intimacy? Complex. It was addictive and eventually, painful.

Movie decisions were surprisingly easy and she said so. They settled on a Tarantino classic, an old flick neither of them had watched in a long time. As the discussion progressed, Tony used his wits to find out more about her without making it seem like an interrogation. He had run a background check on the woman and her family but those only went that far, besides, it was a great opportunity to practice the tips Natasha had shared with him at one point or another. Being friends with spies had it’s perks.

They ate their food until their bellies were full. A comfortable, relaxing stupor, being warm from the inside out.

Tony noticed when the woman spoke, she spoke with her hands. She had caught herself grasping his forearm multiple times when they’d got more passionate about their discussion. And what Tony loved the most was that she refused to apologize. He saw a kindred soul in the woman; quiet until something struck her fancy. Then, she became a whirlwind of ideas and opinions.

In no time, it became a natural action to extend his arm and wrap it around her shoulders, reclining backwards. There was little grace in laying belly-up like a dead fish but the woman didn’t seem to mind. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she laid down sideways, throwing a leg over one of his own.

Her palm traced the outline of his arc reactor when something on the screen caught her in a moment of intense interest. Tony preferred to avoid the cursed thing - scars around it definitely did not do any favour to his aging, marked body - but he found himself exhaling the tension when it was obvious the woman really did not care. An occasional quiet hum of satisfaction was the only noise that came from her: he noticed the sound escaped her lips every time his thumb began fiddling with the sleeve of her blouse and rubbed against her arm.

He was quite content. It was warm, he was surrounded by so much warmth.

The hug was mutual when she left home, both of them comfortable with the gesture for people who had met in a rather unconventional way.

She started coming over a couple of times a week, a quiet evening of the best takeout in NYC and (mostly) interesting movies. A solace, always a single e-mail away.

Tony saw her in the cafeteria once or twice; he appreciated the brief, tiny secretive grin she gave him out of her friend’s eyesight. She never approached him. He was grateful for that. He didn’t want to deal with all the drama and all the fuss surrounding incidents between him and his employees. It was nobody’s business what any of them did after clocking out - and him and his cuddle buddy, they weren’t even fucking, for Thor’s sake.

Maybe they would get there someday. Or maybe they won’t. It was only now for Tony. The rare free Saturday night he had, he truly took a vacation from all the bullshit and lured her in with promises of very expensive wine, her favourite New York style pizza and the willingness to entertain watching a few of those funny YouTube videos she liked.

They did watch them and Tony didn’t mind. He stepped over the irrational fear and the initial discomfort and curled up around her, hiding his face in the soft cotton of her worn hoodie, his own breath tickling his face in warm puffs. The hand running through his hair was tender like it never was with Pepper - his ex was far too preoccupied to baby her grown-up boyfriend. But the woman moulded to his body like an extension of himself was happy to do so. Tony’s hair was longer now and it glided perfectly along the woman’s palms.

His heart was steady, thumping in his ears, overshadowing the noises coming from the TV. He exhaled and felt her other hand begin tracing circles on his back, as if she saw the stress and the bitterness leave his body with every caress, every brush of their bodies. Maybe she did?

He held onto her, held her back like she’d held him. Safekeeping the warmth inside of him. Guarding his peace.

[sevsnapeposts]

Snapetober Day 1: Autumn.

hi everyone! today finally starts the snapetober, are you excited? i sure am. so i decided to write for it, but will eventually (once october is done) do art for every day. today we start with a recollection of memories throughout the years from Prue's POV. you can read it over in ao3 if you'd like, and also if you'd be kind enough, go give me some kudos over there. thanks, hope you enjoy~.

Day 1 - Autumn.

---

1993.

Prue was on the Hogwarts Express, heading to London, where she would meet the Malfoys to spend the holidays with them. Usually her mood would be pessimistic and she would find herself terrified to imagine what was going to get into her room on any of those nights, but honestly, the girl couldn't think of anything other than her Potions professor.

If she closed her eyes, she couldn't help but sigh, remembering each second intensely, her heart racing as she imagined his face shocked at her, at the actions she had taken. Her pulse reached its peak when she recalled everything she saw then, as if time had stopped to give her the opportunity to perfectly memorize the details, even the smallest of them: Black hair surrounding the pale face, agitated by the staggering and the autumn air that little by little became more wintry with the passing of the days; confused, puzzled, and a tinge of scared,black eyes, unsure what the hell was going on, and also (and Prue blushed just thinking about it) expectant, hopeful; pale skin gently reddened at certain points, such as the cheekbones and the tip of the nose, due to the cold and, she dared to suspect, due to her, to her closeness to him; and finally, the area where her attention had focused the most: His lips, thin and pale, slightly parted, perhaps because they were ready to say "what the bloody hell is wrong with you, Pennyworth?"sentence that was never heard.

The girl had wondered many times, over the last few weeks, what it would be like to feel those lips on hers. Were they as cold as the words that his owner spoke with them? Or would they be warm and kind like his hands that day that he accompanied her in her solitude?

She smiled widely, for the second time in her life, thinking that she finally knew the answers to her questions.

1994.

If there was one thing she never thought could happen to her, it was having a boyfriend. She knew she was complicated and difficult, and she wouldn't have been surprised to spend the rest of her life not romantically intimate with anyone… But it had happened, much to her surprise.

And, even to her greatest surprise, something happened that had seemed even more unlikely: she was the one who ended the relationship. He didn’t throw her away, he didn’t abandon her as practically everyone else, he didn’t leave her. Even when the relationship ended, he didn’t do any of that, because he was still with her, as her friend, perfectly understanding that one does not rule in love.

It happens that she wasn’t able to bear someone else's heart, not when she knew that hers was beating strongly for that man with eyes as dark as his robes. Prue understood now, sitting under one of the huge trees that marked the beginning of the Forbidden Forest, surrounded by brown and orange and yellow and green leaves, that it wasn’t that she would never find someone for her, but rather, that she didn’t want someone other than him.

1995.

Prue was hating badly that year. Not even the cookie-scented breeze provided any consolation for how gross it was to have that damn pink toad (ruining her favorite color, by the way) shutting down basically everything good at Hogwarts.

What did serve as comfort, however, was the fact that Severus sympathized with her at her annoyance for that woman. One day, she had even managed to make him laugh — Severus bloody Snape, laughing openly in front of her. Prue had never seen anything so cute, something that could completely melt her cold heart. Her powerful memory perfectly captured that moment, treasuring it alongside the memory of two years ago. Those were things that she would never forget, things that would forever be in her heart, and things that were reproduced in her imagination while the pink toad taught her.

1996.

The echo of the rain traveled all the way down from the surface of the Dark Lake, the air up there being so wild that it dragged a lot of the fallen leaves and twigs into the water, making everyone thankful to be inside the castle, warm from the fire in the chimneys, eating pumpkin and butter biscuits.

Prue wasn't eating any biscuits however, but she didn’t mind. From the huge window she could clearly see how the Lake was disturbed by the storm, even though she was several feet below the surface. Beside her lay her teacher, fast asleep and more than likely exhausted. She took advantage of that moment to admire his features, so relaxed and soft, doing justice to the kind of person he was, to the feelings that were in him, and in her, and between them. She wanted to touch him, and caress him, and wander over his skin again, every part of his skin, with her lips.

Her memory was prodigious, and she knew every part of him.

But her body wasn't, and she was determined to tattoo her skin with his.

1997.

It wasn't going to be easy, she knew, even though they'd only been in school for a couple of months. Voldemort wasn't there, personally, but all the bloody putrefaction in him was. It was flooding London, and Diagon Alley, and Hogsmeade, and Hogwarts, and Severus. He looked worse every day, as if his own death was drawing closer and closer, and Prue knew it was a very likely possibility.

Not only was he at risk. Less, true, but she was also in danger, Voldemort's gaze was on her, very interested in her performance and with a clear desire to recruit her. She was powerful, young, gifted in Dark Arts and from a pure-blood family: Everything Voldemort valued.

And Prue was terrified, even though her expression was as blank as ever. For her to a lesser extent, for him mainly, and for whatever was in store for the Magical World.

But she would be strong, for the same reasons that terrified her, and one way or another, she would see Severus laugh again.

1998.

It had been several months since things were finally over, as far as Prue was concerned. The school year had started a bit late, but Hogwarts had finally reopened its doors to students. Minerva McGonagall was the headmistress, and Severus went back to the Potions, and she went back to him.

It was the first Saturday of the year. Severus was sitting next to her, both hiding in one of Hogwarts' secret gardens, where no one could find them except, perhaps, McGonagall, but the woman liked Severus (and Prue) enough to not interrupt their intimate time together.

‘Intimate’ as in holding hands, her head resting on his shoulder, whilst silently watching the sky, as so many years ago they had done. In the center of the garden was a tree, with leaves that were turning more and more yellow and orange. INot a single one had fallen yet, and Prue, for some reason, really wanted to witness the event.

The young girl, almost a woman now, turned her piercing green eyes from it to her companion. He was looking back at her now, black eyes with a different glow, one that brought life to his entire face and made her heart race like a restless child in summer. Without saying anything, because there was no need, the young woman approached him, closing her eyes, soon feeling the soft contact of his lips for the first time in a long time.

When Prue pulled away from Severus, out of the corner of her eye she noticed movement, and she turned just in time to see an orange and red-hued leaf hit the ground after gliding gently in the wind. She smiled like she only did when she was with him. Before giving him time to ask, because she knew that he had noticed her smile and felt the joy that basically radiated from her, the young woman spoke:

"I would like to spend the rest of my autumns with you”.

Severus didn't reply, but his smile said more than enough.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Odin’s Ward ~ Chapter 15

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/639152911075672064/odins-ward-chapter-14

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Word count: 3182

Warnings: None

True age: Y/n: 1449 // Loki: 1575 // Thor: 1827 // Audunn 3213

Human equivalent age: Y/n: 23 // Loki: 25 // Thor: 29// Audunn: 51

Y/n’s POV

I bite off a piece of bread, if only to appease my hovering maidservant. Periodically, Frigga attempts to broach a talking subject, but I fear I am not a good partner for conversation. No, my mind is too filled with fears for my home, for my father, and, annoyingly, for Loki, who is nowhere to be found.

“Why doesn’t he dine with us?” The question blurts from my lips before I register my interruption of Frigga’s sentence. I apologize sheepishly, feeling bad for not only cutting off a queen, but a woman I greatly respect.

Frigga only smiles softly without judgement, seeming to intend to indulge my question. “He thinks himself too proud or too far removed from our family to be with us—no doubt as a result of the hurt he’s suffered. He sees his absence as a punishment for us when, in truth, it is a punishment for himself as well.”

I sigh, sinking deeper in my chair, the tasteless bread falling from my fingers. Ragna, attentive as always, takes this as an opportunity to put a bowl of bright red fruit in front of me.

“Please eat, My Lady.” Her care for me is what ultimately leads to me taking a bite. Bland, but I continue nibbling in order to ease her worry. In truth, though, I do not anticipate having much of an appetite until a significant number of my fears are assuaged.

“Have you any word from Odin or Thor? Or my father? It has been over a day since they departed.”

Frigga shakes her head. “With regret, I have nothing to report.”

Under the table, my leg begins to shake. “I hope they’re alright and successful in putting an end to the rebellion. My people cannot survive many more hours of this slaughter.”

Frigga leans forward, queenly authority washing over her words. “As a wife and mother, I worry for Odin and Thor. But as a queen, I have little concern. Asgard’s army has defeated much more formidable foes than your husband. I have no doubt this will result in a victory for Asgard and for your people.”

Her words and the conviction behind them do calm me slightly.

She sees this, and seems to seize on the opportunity. “But let us talk of lighter things. It has been over three hundred years since I last saw you. Tell me—how has your life been since your wedding?”

I exhale heavily without meaning to.

I have no desire to tell Frigga about the abuse from my husband and the scorn from Court, nor the stark isolation I feel nearly every day. So I decide to gloss over as much as I can, and relay only the good parts of my life in Alfheim.

“Our summers in Alfheim are very mild—barely hotter than spring. It makes for long, lovely days full of picnics and outdoor games, time on the lake, then perhaps a dance or two under the stars. Alfheim thrives in the night, you know. Our castle, our clothing, even our people are the most beautiful in the moonlight. Connecting with the people of Court has been a bit of a struggle, but the common folk seem to love me, even if they do not know me, not really….but they throw flowers outside my carriage when I visit the towns, and even named a library after me in the main village. It’s nice to feel that sense of community, even if I cannot be around it all the time.” At this, I look at my hands, not wanting Frigga to see the sadness in my eyes. Because, despite the clearly awful parts of my existence away from Asgard, there are bright, shining, beautiful moments in my life in Alfheim. These glimmers are what would get me through the day.

And they are what tear my heart apart now as I think of my homeworld being ripped to shreds by civil war and brutality.

Frigga hears some of what I leave unsaid. She squeezes my hand gently and places the lightest of touches under my chin, encouraging me to look up at her. “My dear, do not be saddened. Here you will find community in those closest to you, there is no need to be so isolated.” My heart, which had fluttered in hope at her words, quickly falls with her next. It seems everyone, even those I love and trust, see me as just a means to produce an heir. “It took Odin and I many centuries to conceive. And when nature failed us, another child came to us in the most unconventional, but no less miraculous, way. Alfheim lacks progressiveness, but Asgard suffers no such fault. In your own time, you and my son will produce the most wonderful child, I know that deep in my heart. But until then, Asgard will wait patiently. Do not let the fear of retribution mar your time here. And do not let your heart be weighed down with a desire unmet—everything happens in its time.”

Loki’s POV

The stone of the wall bites into my fingers as I grip it with unwise force.

Around the corner my mother—my very own mother—encourages the woman I once loved in her future quest to have a child with my brother.

A bitter taste grows in my mouth.

And although I know Y/n does not want to marry Thor—anyone could see that in the way she protested—there is real pain in her eyes.

Pain that I have caused.

I do not know if she aches with the longing for a child. But it’s not a difficult task to surmise the isolation and ridicule she has no doubt been subject to for the last two and a half centuries has weighed on her.

Preventing conception was her decision, yes, but I was the one who made it possible. I put the magic on her, effectively ruining any chance she ever had at being accepted in her home. And if she ever did want a child, but found herself unable, well, I bear the blame for that hurt, too.

It seems no matter what I do, I cannot help but destroy the lives of those I’m supposed to love.

I was so close to entering the dining hall and joining them for breakfast—the first meal I would have shared with my mother in over seven months—but I had heard the end of their conversation before making my presence known.

It’s better that way.

I do not know how well I would have reacted, had I been in their company upon hearing the conversation between Y/n and my mother.

The sound of trumpets interrupts my thoughts, and I teleport away mere seconds before Y/n races by.

Y/n’s POV

The news of Asgard’s victory is unfathomably welcome.

When I hear it, I can’t help but fall to my knees, releasing a shout of joy and thanks to Odin himself, a man I, in fact, really don’t care for.

Thor quickly escorts me away for what he calls a ‘debrief’, but I can see by the set of his shoulders it is more of a transition into spending one-on-one time in our new capacity as fiancés. And while nerves and resentment rattle my stomach, I follow him willingly, eager to hear of the path to victory and how Alfheim fares now.

He wastes little time. The moment we are in the privacy of the gardens, he speaks.

“Your father is alive and well, do not fear. His loyal guardsmen managed to keep Audunn’s forces at bay, though I fear it would been a different outcome if we had not arrived when we did. You did well getting to us so quickly.”

The compliment is unexpected and, I feel, undeserved. “All I really did was relay a message. I am quite thankful, then, to you, your father, and your army for coming so quickly to Alfheim’s aid. Surely this will cement positive diplomatic relations for years to come.”

A strange look crosses through his eyes as he looks away from me, choosing instead to squint into the sun. “Spoken like a politician. I see you learned much in your time away.”

I catch the edge to his voice. “You do not approve?”

“I didn’t say that, I only mean that it is…unusual in Alfheim for women to be so involved.”

I fight the urge to scoff bitterly. “I wouldn’t have called myself involved—Father and Audunn would have none of that—but I did pick up some tricks and knowledge in my three hundred years there.”

There’s a slight pause. In that pause, Thor seems to steel himself. I know instantly that I will not like whatever he has to say next. “I wanted to tell you, ah—while your father was successfully restored to the regency, we were able to capture and imprison Audunn rather than having to resort to killing him on the field. He is here, in the dungeons, and will stand trial tomorrow.”

My blood runs cold. “Here? In the castle? Why didn’t you kill him?!” The words come out in breathless gasps, and Thor takes a step towards me in concern.

“You need not fear, Lady Y/n, he is securely guarded. He poses no threat to your father or your people any more.”

Yes. I swallow. But now that we are in the same place once again, I worry of the threat he poses to me.

Thor attempts to continue our walk with lighter conversation, but I don’t pay him much mind. All I can focus on is the terrifying reality that, as long as Audunn lives, my own life is in danger.

Loki’s POV

When the moon is high in the sky and the air has turned crisp, I acknowledge the reality that I will get no sleep tonight.

Groaning, I fling the covers from my body and exit my warm bed, dressing quickly. As soon as I’m decent, I exit my chambers, heading straight for the library. I have plenty of books in my room, but nothing I haven’t already read. The library is likely to have a variety of unexplored distractions.

I enter the vast library and turn left, heading for the history section—one of my favorites. I round the corner and am met with a sharp gasp and the sound of clattering books as Y/n jumps back, hitting a shelf.

Surprise and self-loathing mingle within me. She’s terrified of me.

Without really deciding to, I take a step back, showing my lack of intent to harm her. “I apologize. I did not mean to frighten you.”

She exhales, lowering the shaking hands that had come to grip her stomach. “N-no, it is I who should apologize. I….thought you were someone else.”

I raise my eyebrow, buying time as I calculate the truth of her statement. She does seem to be relaxing. Now all that remains is the faint hint of embarrassment in her features. She even offers me a small smile, one that I find unexpectedly welcome. I decide to believe her. “Don’t worry about it. I understand your nerves must be frayed, given all that you’ve been through.” Flashes of what she must have experienced in the past four days come to the forefront of my mind, unbidden. Handled roughly, a dirty jail cell, a hit that would explain the coloring on her lower jaw, the fear as she sneaks through the castle, praying she goes unnoticed—

“Are you alright?”

There’s a note in her voice that suggests some of her apprehension has returned, and I can guess why. My body has gone completely rigid, my fists clenched tightly, and I’m sure I’ve just fixated on the nearest object with a death glare—I can only hope I didn’t direct it at her.

I try to recover the moment. “I’ll get those books.”

She hurriedly drops to the ground, grabbing novels at random. “Let me, Your Highness, I’m the one who—”

I sink next to her and smirk, for some reason desperate to dissolve this strange uncertain air between us. “Last night you barge into my chambers unannounced and tonight we’re back to the formalities?”

She studies me for a moment, looking quite perplexed. Then, she exhales a shaky bark of a laugh. “I suppose so.”

Fair enough.

I straighten, beginning to alphabetize the books and put them back in their proper place. She follows suit, working beside me in silence. I don’t miss the glances she gives me when she thinks I’m not looking. The looks are full of uncertainty, full of trepidation—she has no idea where we stand. For that matter, neither do I.

But there’s no use in finding out, the snide voice within me remarks. She’s engaged to your brother. You will have no chance to know her again as you did once, long ago.

But still, as since the moment she burst through the throne room doors, I war with myself.

I do not want to love her. I have no claim to her. Pursuing her would only lead to heartbreak, and I fear I cannot take any more.

If I were smart, I would push her away as I do everyone else.

I should push her away.

“Why are you in the library so late?” Her voice, stronger now, clouds my head once more and pulls me into conversation.

I have no desire to detail or even acknowledge my crippling nightmares, so I turn the question back on her, hoping to save myself the humiliation of admitting weakness. “I could ask you the same thing.”

She is equally eager to explain her reasonings, and quickly changes the subject. “I saw Lady Naerys this morning. Can you believe she has seven children?”

I chortle, and the sound feels strange coming from my throat. “But alas, not one of them fathered by a prince.” Without really meaning to, I take a step closer to her.

Y/n mocks distress. “But how will she ever become queen now?”

And just like that, we’re back on a subject we both would like to avoid.

I try to steer us away. “I admit that I was pleased when I heard news of your father’s safe return to the regency. You must be very relieved.”

But despite my efforts, a strange look takes over her face. “Yes, I am more relieved than you know.”

I press further, finding myself desperate to know what she’s thinking. “Audunn’s trial will be interesting. I estimate spectators will extend well past the boundaries of the courtroom.”

Again, I have misstepped. The color drains from her face and her hands immediately wring together in tight knots. It seems I have completely forgotten how to speak to this woman I once knew so well. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to—”

“It’s fine.” She cuts me off, staring at my shoulder rather than my face. She takes a deep breath, and when she speaks, her voice is hard, almost as if she’s willing the words to be true. “Soon Audunn will be dead. And all will be well.”

Something in her voice tells me that she is trying harder to convince herself than me.

The desire to comfort her is strong, but I am woefully out of practice. “I…do not see an outcome in which Audunn survives, yes. His choices were unfortunate, and put him at odds with the interests of two of the nine realms. Odin will not let that go unpunished.” I fight against a scowl. Because if anyone had been listening, they would’ve guessed I was talking about myself.

She surprises me with a tight smile. “Yes, you are right. This time tomorrow, Audunn’s execution will be set.”

Again, there’s that hard edge to her voice, one that wasn’t there the last time I encountered her. Whereas before it amused me, now it makes me feel sad. There’s no reason both of us had to be affected so by the world—Fate did that out of cruelty. Perhaps tomorrow after the trial, when her anxieties are further resolved, she will find some peace.

I think to the upcoming trial. She will be asked to bear witness, of course. But I worry of Odin fulfilling his duty to prepare her. I take matters into my own hands. “You know you will be asked to testify against him.”

“Yes.” The word is harsh, quick. But then she looks to the ground and stretches a hand absently to the bookshelf, almost as if she’s seeking some sort of comfort or reassurance from the touch. When she speaks again, her voice is softer, more vulnerable. “I find no pleasure in sending a man to his death. But I will speak honestly. Audunn dug his own grave—it is just my unfortunate duty to send him to it.”

I swallow, unsure of what to say. The last time I saw her, she spoke of no love for her husband, but this seems different…a deeper hurt, somehow. Part of me wants to ask what happened, but a larger part knows I haven’t the right. We are not lovers, we are not friends, and she is currently a married woman. When her status is changed upon the execution of her husband, she will immediately become the betrothed of my brother. So rather than risk hurt and vulnerability, I keep her at arms length. “I would advise you to get some rest, Lady Y/n. I have no doubt tomorrow will be a long and difficult day.”

She avoids my eyes as she curtsies and exits the library. Once she’s gone, I take a much needed deep breath. Something about her presence made the expansive library seem incredibly small, intimate. When she’d gone to curtsey, she’d needed to take a step back, as we had gotten quite close during our discussion.

With a groan, I practically stumble to the bannister overlooking the basement archives, gripping the wood tightly. Attachment to Y/n has never been a good idea, least of all now. But even after many breaths to clear my head, I still find that unwelcome feeling in the pit of my stomach, the feeling that nearly begs me to follow her from the room and pull her into my arms.

I slam my hand on the wood, startling one of the bookkeepers on the level below. Upon seeing who stands above him, he shrinks away, quickly gathering his books and scurrying out of sight.

That’s right, I think, bitterness bringing an unpleasant taste to my mouth. Run from me. I am dangerous. I am other. No one is safe with me.

Least of all a kind, wonderful woman who, even after hundreds of years, seems to hold the ability to ruin me in the palm of her hand.

A/n Hey guys, sorry for any mistakes! I proofread but I feel like I probably missed something because I’m tired. Let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you would like to be added to the tag list! What do you think of the conversation with Loki? How do you think Audunn’s trial will go? Stay safe out there :)

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/642883586082635777/odins-ward-chapter-16

Masterlist

Tag list: @80strashbag @dark-night-sky-99 @what-am-i-doing10 @chxrryycola @ravenclaw5606 @hiddlebatchedloki @jooordanharrrop @marsbarsboy @damondallysodapopstiles 

[weasleydream]

Not gonna leave

Masterlist

Hogwarts had always been my home. It was the best place in the world. But when this awful toad arrived and took the control in the school, things started to change. Merlin, even Trevor, Neville’s toad, would have been a better director than her! Umbridge was everybody’s nightmare as she made more and more stupid rules. “Boys and girls are not permitted to be within 6 inches of each other.” How could she be that intrusive in our lives? How many times did she separate me from Fred and George when we were just walking in the corridors? Lucky us, she never caught us, Fred and I, while we were hiding in some broom closet to snog as if our lives depended on it. 

Yeah, by the way, this beautiful redhead and I had been together since he asked me out on a Hogsmeade date during our third year. I had always gotten along pretty well with the twins, but I had always been a little closer to Fred, a little more tactile but also a little more impulsive. That’s why George and I never fought, I somehow always succeeded into calm my anger. But with Fred… Let’s just say that one day, he received pumpkin juice on the face because he had made fun of me the day before for almost tripping in front of Snape. So yeah, things can escalated quickly between the two of us. But it’s not always a bad thing, if you know what I mean. 

One of the worst decision Toadbridge had taken was to prevent us from playing Quidditch. If it wasn’t for McGonagall who talked to Dumbledore, we still wouldn’t be allowed to play. Fortunately we got the permission and Angelina, our new captain after Wood’s departure, trained us. Unfortunately, our new keeper, Ron, seemed to be way too anxious whenever someone was looking at him. Worse, some Slytherin’s team players had seen him and made fun of him whenever they could. 

We knew that the Slytherins loved being foul, but when Fred, George and I saw the badges they were wearing the morning before the first match of the year, we understood that it wouldn’t be easy. Weasley is our king. Of course it wasn’t against the twins, they were too self-confident to let themselves be dampened by such idiotic things, but they both seemed furious. 

-Don’t worry, I’m sure Ron’s gonna be incredible. 

Honestly, I was not sure of who I was trying to convince: the twins, whose faces were as red as before, the two Slytherin girls that were giggling behind us, or me. My fears turned out to be justified when Ron entered the Great Hall. His face was very pale, he seemed to be on the verge of vomiting. Harry dragged him to our table, clearly trying to get his friend avoiding every single Slytherin that happened to be on their way. All we could do is hope Ron would make the Slytherins shut up. 

The air was really cold. I was pretty sure my hands would freeze before the end of the match. Alicia passed me the Quaffle and I barely heard Lee make some comment about our captain. My left hand firmly holding my broom, I headed towards Bletchley, Slytherin’s keeper. The guy looked like a big gorilla cowering on a little broom. Riddikulus. I was ready to throw the Quaffle when a bludger hit me on the back, which made me drop the ball with a groan. Fred screamed and rushed to me. 

-Are you okay? 

-Yes, don’t worry. 

A little exchange but accompanied by a sweet touch on my cheek, and I was ready to face the world again. The game continued. When Warrington scored, throwing the Quaffle just between Ron’s arms, the Slytherins sang so loud that I understood what they were saying. 

Weasley was born in a bin

He always let the Quaffle in

Weasley will make sure we win

Weasley is our king

I was furious. Completely furious. And also horrified because the song seemed to have the desired effect: Ron lost it and Slytherin scored again, three times. Suddenly, I heard the shouts of joy from the Gryffindor’s supporters and I saw Harry with the Golden Snitch. I joined him and Angelina, and soon Fred and George landed near us. I jumped into my boyfriend’s arms, relieved that we won. Then I hugged George and I was going to congratulate Harry. However, Malfoy seemed to be decided to ruin our joy. 

-We wanted to write another couple of verses. But we couldn’t find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see… We couldn’t fit useless loser either - for his father, you know…

Then all happened in a second. George was just in front of me. I put myself in front of him while Harry was holding him. Distraught, I looked after Fred only to find him as mad as his brother, hold by Angelina and Alicia. I was furious too. The Weasley were my second family; Mrs Weasley always treated me like her daughter and always welcomed me to the Burrow, this magical place; and Mr Weasley was the first one I had met who shared my interest for the Muggles. I wanted to hit this little bastard, I wanted him to shut up, but I couldn’t let George go, I was afraid he would do something that could bring him problems. 

Malfoy seemed to be delighted by the situation. He also provoked Harry, who had a hard time controlling himself, and the little jackass looked at me with an evil smile. I felt George tense behind me and his hands gripping my wrists. He knew how much troubles I had with managing my emotions. Fred seemed to understand what was going to happen because he screamed the worst insults he knew. Malfoy’s drawling voice made me lose my temper.

-And you, the little Gryffindor slut. Unable to choose between the Weasley twins, are you? So you decided, what, to spread your legs in front of all the family? 

Once again, it happened too fast for anyone to react. I jumped towards Malfoy, Harry and George close behind me, and tackled him to the floor. He let a pathetic scream out as I broke his nose, barely aware of the fact that George and Harry were also hitting him. I let my fury out until a spell projected us to the floor. Madam Hooch was screaming at us, probably blaming us because we were three against one, but I couldn’t listen to what she was saying. Malfoy was watching me, a grin on his despicable beady face. We were going to leave the field when Malfoy stepped in front of me. I didn’t know what he was going to say, but I was pretty sure I didn’t want to hear it. I spat in his face and leave, still trembling with fury. I only saw from the corner of the eye Fred, still hold by the girls, his eyes filled with anger and worry. 

To say that McGonagall was infuriated was an understatement. I had never seen her in this state. She was livid, and looked at her Gryffindor scarf as if she was going to tear it apart. But it wasn’t the worst, oh no, the worst part arrived with a detestable toad. Hum, hum. McGonagall’s face took a red shade, which darkened when Umbridge offered some help. Obviously, it wasn’t just a proposition, because she took a parchment and announced that she had the right to punish us. She claimed happily that George and Harry were banned from the Quidditch team forever, along with Fred even if he hadn’t done anything. Then she told the boys to go back to the common room. 

-As for you Miss Y/L/N, I think a bigger punishment is required. Your disrespect towards the young Malfoy is unacceptable and -

-Didn’t you hear what he was saying?

-Don’t interrupt me. 

I glanced at McGonagall, hoping that she would help me defending myself, but she seemed to have enough difficulty with calming herself. 

-Miss Y/L/N, you’re expelled. You will leave this castle tomorrow.

The world seemed to collapse around me. Umbridge wore a little smile, probably proud to have gotten rid of one of the pranksters of the school. I felt my eyes burning but I would never let her see me cry, because she didn’t deserve this pleasure. I stormed out of the office, and without even thinking, I took my wand. 

-Flipendo.

My voice was quiet, but as I was running, I heard shouts of surprise as Fred and George, who had been waiting for me, were knocked to the floor. The sound made McGonagall get out and she yelled something at me. I didn’t listen to her, nor did I listen to Fred who was begging me to come back. I ran as fast as I could, hardly thinking about what I was doing, and soon I collapsed behind a big thicket near from the lake. It was a place that I loved. When we had to work for our OWLs, Fred, George and I and sometimes Lee would come here because we were sure that no one would come. And now -the thought broke my heart into millions of tiny pieces- it was the last time I would see this place because I was expelled. Expelled. 

Fred’s POV

I wanted to go find her. Y/N, my lovely girlfriend, was gone Merlin-knows-where, and she had attacked us. I knew she didn’t mean to hurt us, something was upsetting her and she didn’t want us to see her like this. But what happened? I was quickly back on my feet and ready to run behind her when McGonagall ordered us to go back to the common room. I was about to ignore her when Angelina and Alicia arrived and urged us to the common room. 

-She’s gonna come back, said our captain. Don’t worry and don’t bring yourself more problems. So, what happened? 

When George confessed that the team just lost four players, she became pale and sat hurriedly, taking her head in her hands. I still couldn’t believe what Umbridge had done. And I was still worried sick about Y/N, because I knew her very well and I knew that she could be very stubborn. Every part of my body wanted to be with her. I wanted so badly to take her in my arms, stroke her hair while whispering that all was going to be okay… But two Gryffindors entered the common room wondering why Filch stayed in front of the entrance, so I know I couldn’t get out of here. All I could do was pray for Y/N to come back to me. I was so lost in my thoughts that George had to shake my arm to get me listening. 

-The Marauder’s Map, Fred! The Marauder’s Map!

Harry brought us the Map and the three of us, along with Hermione, searched for the dot that represented Y/N. But, after a dozen of minutes, we had to admit that she wasn’t in the castle anymore. 

-Maybe she’s in the Room of Requirement, suggested Hermione. 

But I shook my head. No, I knew perfectly where she was, it was always the same place, a place she loved to go to when she was upset. However, it didn’t comfort me because I was pretty sure she would freeze to death behind this thicket. But then again, what could I do when Angelina and Filch were on my back? I couldn’t even get out of the common room. When Ron came back, covered in snow, I lost it and ran out of the room, only to be stopped by Umbridge’s wand pointed at me. 

-I didn’t allow you to leave your common room, Mr Weasley.

I tried to ignore her interdiction, claiming that she could stupefy me if she wanted, but her answer made me stop. 

-If you make one more step, Mr Weasley, you, your twin brother and your girlfriend will be expelled. 

Being expelled didn’t bother me. I knew it was the same for George. But I couldn’t risk Y/N’s place here. I was turning my back to her when she added:

-Don’t try to get out during the night, Mr Weasley. The portrait will receive particular orders. 

Furious at this old toad, I sat in a couch, trying to relax and wondering why Y/N was so upset. I was determined to stay here until her return, George by my side. I tried twice to leave the common room but, as the toad sait, the portrait didn’t open.

However, when the sun rose, Y/N still wasn’t here. I asked Hermione if she could check in her dormitory, but she confessed that she had already done it and her bed was empty. With a terrible feeling, I rushed to the Great Hall, George close behind me, but she wasn’t here. McGonagall came to us. 

-Where is Miss Y/L/N? 

-We don’t know, she didn’t come back yesterday. 

George had to answer, because my anxiety was suffocating me. McGonagall mumbled something about Umbridge and that she didn’t have the right. I wasn’t really listening, but George seemed to understand something. 

-Professor, what happened yesterday?

-Umbridge gave herself the ability to expel students, and of course, she has started with Y/N. But she can’t do this, Dumbledore won’t let her. 

George and I exchanged a look, and we left the Great Hall, heading to the thicket where I believed she was. Outside, the floor was covered in snow. The air was freezing and I felt tears burning my eyes. I didn’t know if it was because of the cold. We finally arrived to the thicket and horror filled my body as I saw a little hand behind the vegetation. 

She was there, curled up into a tiny ball, her E/C eyes closed. Her skin was white but her lips were blue and she had puffy eyes, and her tears were frozen on her cheeks like little diamonds. She was motionless. If it wasn’t for the steam that escaped her slightly opened mouth, I would have feared her being dead.  

I was shocked. George reacted faster than me: he pulled off his jacket and put it on her. I finally got out of my stupor and touched her cheek. It was so cold… I picked her up. The following events were a blur. George was in front of me, yelling to all the students to let me pass, that it was an emergency. I didn’t even feel Y/N’s weight because of the adrenaline that was spreading in my blood. We finally arrived to the hospital wing to find it empty. Madam Pomfrey wasn’t here. I was going to put my girlfriend into the nearest bed when George stopped me.

-You need to get her clothes off, they are soaked and freezing. I’m gonna go get McGonagall.

With that, he stormed off the hospital wing, letting me alone with Y/N. I delicately undressed her, letting her in her underwears. Swearing because I didn’t know any spell that could help her at the moment, I took all the blankets that I could see and laid them on Y/N. She was slightly shaking and I stroked helplessly her hair. I could say that her eyes were rolling under her eyelids and she started to whine. 

-Hey, I’m here, baby, I’m here…

I placed my lips on her forehead, hoping that maybe she could feel it and know how much I was afraid. 

-Don’t worry, I’ve got you, I’m not gonna leave you…

I slipped my hand under the blankets to find hers. Her skin was slightly warmer. With a loving pressure on her fingers, I continued to whisper sweet things to her. I was kissing her forehead again when George finally arrived with McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. The matron didn’t waste time, she rushed into her office and came back a few seconds later with a purple potion. She made Y/N drink a few drops of it. 

-All we can do now is wait. Don’t worry, she’s gonna be okay.

She patted my shoulder and left. I was sitting next to her bed. George stood behind me and McGonagall was in front of us. With a sigh, she told us that Y/N would stay at Hogwarts. Somehow, Dumbledore had managed to prevent Umbridge from expelling her. Then she told us that our detentions would start when Y/N would be better and that she wanted to know when she would wake up. She allowed me to stay with her, but told George he had to go to class. My brother pressed my shoulder in a comforting way and left with McGonagall. 

Y/N woke up two hours later. We were still alone in the hospital wing, and I was half sleeping. I felt her hand, the one I was holding, I felt it move and I almost jumped off my chair. 

-Fr-red…

-Yeah, I’m here baby. Don’t talk, it’s okay.

I knew her throat was hurting her because she frowned. I just slipped into her bed and hold her against me. She cuddled as close to me as possible and fell asleep again. George arrived after lunch, and wiggled his eyebrows. I chuckled. The sound woke Y/N up and she lifted her head to see my brother sitting on another chair.

-Hi, sleeping beauty! 

She waved back, her throat probably still sore. George told us how relieved everyone was because she was going to be okay. He also laughed at the fact that almost all the Gryffindors were waiting at the door to tell her that Y/N spitting at Malfoy made their week. After a while, he looked at me, then at her. 

-Have you announced her the good new yet? 

-No… No I forgot!

Y/N watched me suspiciously, her beautiful E/C eyes shining in the light. George laughed at me, ruffled her hair and left. I looked back at Y/N who seemed impatient to hear what I had to tell her. Instead of telling her immediately, I kissed her. She melted into the kiss, hopefully feeling all the love and relief I put into it. Then, with my forehead against hers, I whispered:

-You’re not gonna leave Hogwarts, love. You’re staying here with me and the toad is gonna regret what she did to you. 

[ellipsesarefun]

DAMIRAE DAY 5: Soulbond

A/N: SO THIS CAME OUT OF NOWHERE I SWEAR HAHHAHAAH. It’s probs the coffee talking but damn. Finished this baby todaaayyy after reviewing for a subject (and damn is this a weird day because writing and studying feels like two different worlds) so this will be queued to post on the 14th or 15th? Maybe I’m too excited but it’s been awhile since I’ve been excited to write something.. Been awhile since I’ve used 1st POV. This is probs a bit messy :( But I’ll edit some stuff out someday..

May not be participating anymore but I hope to come back to DamiRae <3 It’s been a comfort to me during my study breaks.

------

There are some things about my magic that I cannot fully comprehend nor explain. 

Ever since I’ve healed the young Robin, I’ve been receiving vivid dreams. I can’t fully grasp the images but the emotions that wake me to reality are always filled with heartaches, pining, and desperation. I never bothered to clue anyone in on what they are. Kory knows I have dreams but I can never tell her what happens in them because I don’t know how to describe them.. Damian has his ways of knowing. The little bird never lets me forget that. But he never asked, just implied. And I never said anything, merely let him draw his own conclusions.

I’ve been harboring feelings for him for a long time but I never acted on them for a number of reasons... Sometimes, we were romantically and sexually involved with other people. Other times, there never seemed to be a time and place to voice it out on the open. The moments we spent alone meditating, reading together, flying during my nightly rituals are the moments I cherish too much to let him feel my burden.

But out of all the reasons I've expounded, My father is the center. Even when I have created an enchanted fortress created out of his and my own demonic magic (with the help of Constantine and Zatanna), I still fear that he may one day break through those chains and destroy Earth... and kill Damian. Trigon senses the bond between us and it disgusts him.

His insults hit right through my own insecurities. I mean technically, he is trapped in crystal that’s stored in a small box that I carry around but damnit there are times when his thoughts crowd over to mine and... it terrifies me.

The mechanics of the bond isn’t the “if he dies, then I die too” but more of “I feel his presence more than I let on”. I still have no idea if it also might be the former, but the latter is one that I experience often. I don't always know what he is feeling (I may be an Empath but I have my mental barriers to maintain). It's only when he's in danger do my senses burn right through my barriers. It probably comes with this strong sense of protectiveness within me, a desperate need to keep him safe... and it’s becoming a little too obvious.

Throughout the six years as Titans, training with Damian has gradually become a torture... Every urge to shot turns into every urge to shield him from the pain... Every scar he receives fuels my anger against those who dare to hurt him, especially the enemies we’ve faced during missions and/or patrol. 

The last one was worse. I arrived at the scene with him on the floor, body tainted with bruises and then..

I saw him on the floor.. suddenly burnt into ashes.. face barely recognizable... I heard my screams of agony, despair, and heartbreak as I watched my other self enveloping him in what seems a spell..

I love you...

And it wasn’t a dream but a memory... It all felt so real, like I was in Apokolips (what the hell is Apokolips?) once more and the Earth has crumbled to its fucked up state and he was gone and I needed to save him (from what?)...

I didn’t even stop to comprehend what it was and I lost my control. 

AZARATH. METRION. ZINTHOS!

...

I blacked out, I think, and now I find myself back in the infirmary of the Titans Tower. Not a single glimpse of a sunlight reached the room and nothing stands out from the dark except a figure sitting beaide me.

"Hi." Is the only greeting I offered. Damian stands and turns the lights back on. He sits back down, burning holes into my skull. I squint at the brightness and immediately force myself to focus at some place that isn't him.. I couldn't bare to look at him.

I hear a sigh but I let my gaze linger at the clock far longer than I liked, matching my breaths with the ticks and tocks of the arrows of the clock. His agitation prickles at my senses like a thorn to my side. The damned urge to come and wrap him in my arms gradually resurfaces once more. 

He clears his throat just in time, like he already knew what I was thinking and I look down, hoping he doesn’t notice the heat pooling my cheeks. 

“Look,” he says and I pause my train of thought, “You and I both know there’s more to this that letting your demon lose and almost killing Dr. Light, so let’s not beat around the bush.” I couldn’t look at him, I just can’t bear to.. But I nodded, just so he knows that I’m taking his words seriously (and I always do)..

I might as well tell him..

“I’ve been having nightmares ever since the first time I healed you.” There’s movement from my periphery but I ignore it, “Of you.. dying...” Silence is his only answer so I continued.

“It wasn’t that bad at first but through years it’s been difficult to fight this desire to protect you all the time.” I haven’t reached the most important part yet and I’m already feeling the rising tension in the air. He holds up a hand, and I wait for him to speak as I try to calm my heartbeat. 

“Raven, I was trained by the League of the Assassins. I know how to handle myself-” 

“I know you do, Damian.” I cut him off, hearing my voice rise a bit,

(And I realize later that he didn't need to say this because damnit the smart ass saw right through me. He only did so to bait me into confessing.)

“But these aren’t nightmares.. not really. They’re from another timeline.” I let out a sigh. This conversation is beginning to exhaust me but he needs to know. I turn to him this time and he’s not holding back his own concern etched on his face. He gets up from his chair and sits at the edge of my bed. My gaze drifts to his hand. I remember a lingering feeling, probably from another memory of that timeline, that he’d reach out and hold my hand in his. 

“There was a war.. We were around at this age..” I continue, “We were trying to stop someone and... you died in the process. I revived you.. brought you back from the dead.” I watch him watch me. Not a single gasp was uttered nor any ounce of surprised was showed on his face. I didn’t sense any of that. There was so much I can pick from that unreadable frown. 

Longing, concern, understanding.. and it’s only occurred to me that he knows. He’s known this whole time. I was too engrossed to what he felt and what Trigon may do that I didn’t stop to read through his actions. But does he...

No.. I shouldn't ask... not when I haven't laid all the cards out..

"We have a bond.. sort of." I say, and he nods, confirming of his own assumptions, "But I'm not sure if this will get us killed. So far the pain inflicted on you does not mean I receive the same kind of pain. It just fuels my drive to protect you."

"And you think that this was a result from our previous affections to one another in that timeline." He concludes.

"We never really spent time together as... together." I say. It feels out of the blue but something about what I said needed to be heard, "You left for the League of Assassins. You offered me a place there because you had feelings for me. I would have went with you if Trigon hadn't threatened me to kill you if I stayed..."

I face him, feeling this odd confidence swelling within me. "I do still have feelings for you. And Trigon still wants to kill you so.. that hasn't changed.." 

There is a slight elation and giddiness within me as I catch a mixture of bewilderment and amusement on his features. But my heart begins to soar as I watch a tiny, tender smile drawn by his lips.

I've seen that smile before.. a couple of times. There were only glimpses of that smile during our many glances throughout the years, hidden beneath the layers of his mask.

And now the last of his mask has finally come off.

"Raven," he says and I feel the tingle in my ears at the sound of my name, "You should know by now that my perseverance exceeds the fear of being devoured by demonic conquerer of worlds."

I frown at him. "You sound so sure of yourself..."

"You've defeated him twice, Raven." He reasons, "In this timeline and probably in other timelines. You were lucky, you say, but now.. you're--no, we're, more than four times as lucky."

"Damian.. where is this all coming from?" I ask, because he makes it sound so simple. Like he's up against merely a strict father who wouldn't let his daughter marry the person she loves in those cheesy romcoms. But this isn't a romcom. This is Trigon, for Azar's sake..

"He isn't called a Conquerer of Worlds for no reason!"

"And that doesn't stop you for creating a tiny fortress that entraps and gradually diminishes his demonic magic instead of trapping him in a crystal and sticking it to your forehead from your other timeline. Look Raven,” he continues, “You and I both know that there’s something between us? Why wait for the inevitable?” Why wait till I leave for the League of Assassins? Why wait till the possibility of Apokolips comes around again? He leans in and his bright green eyes search my own.

I keep my frown on my face, not wanting to give in to his charms. He throws back a smirk because he's fucking...

"Insufferable. That’s what you are." I spit the words at him, only halfheartedly at best. He laughs. The cheeky fucker is laughing me.

"But I'm a kind and generous soul." He teases with a grin on his face. And shit, I can't fight my own my smile any longer. He reaches out and I meet him halfway, entwining our fingers together. I haven't affirmed anything but the gesture already is the answer. Our answer. We’ve been dancing around this for a long time. Might as well take the chance before it’s too late.

Something magical, his aura perhaps, loops with my own. I close my eyes let the magic guide me.. and him. A meadow materializes itself and I find him in the distance, his smile warm and inviting. I extend my hand to him and he mirrors my actions. A raven flies out of my hand and another one out of his. At the same time we open our eyes and-

The magic suddenly bursts forth into a kaleidoscope of colors, a plethora of shapes of any kind. They all coalesce into a giant raven. A white raven. It soars above us, circling around the room with a happy tune. It eventually disappears into a sparkle of fireworks. We laugh and turn our gazes to one another. 

With foreheads pressed against each other, we guide our silent conversation with twinkles in our eyes and smiles forming on our lips. It's like those typical chessy lovebird montage things people see in romantic subplots. It might be the calmness of the air or the sleep edging its way through my train of thought but I can sense our heartbeats in sync. A lullaby to my woes, perhaps, but someone like me can hope that this bond is knitting our souls into a comfortable blanket, however mysterious and unpredictable it may be.

Trigon's box rattles on the table. I almost forgot that it was there in the first place. I feel his presence, cursing disgusting words at the edge of my aura but I pay no heed. 

After all, I'm a billion times luckier now.

[darkpoisonouslove]

“Revenge of the Trix” Thoughts

Diving into this second special and I have to say that I am actually quite excited to see how this will go. It was fun comparing the first special to season 1 even though I kinda expected to be angered. But good news! I wasn’t. Not so much at least and I really hope that pattern will continue.

- I am not quite sure but I think they changed the timeline a little bit. Though, if it means I get the festival of the rose or that battle with the witches in Magix, I am down! I doubt it but I will hold on to my hopes until they get dashed!

- I am still puzzled by Faragonda’s remark about the “powerful forces here at work”. What does that mean? Who is she talking about? She can’t be wary of Daphne so what the hell is happening? Was she concerned at the possibility of Bloom having Dragon Fire? I really hope they will explain some of this. But I like that they added the fact that Daphne was the princess of Domino. It wasn’t in the original of this scene and I am glad they changed that.

- Okay, without the bike rescue and the way the dialogue in that scene is reworked, the Riven and Darcy stuff is way more disturbing than it used to be! She straight up spelled him without any connection being made outside of that and it just looks way too creepy. Not to mention that it does a disservice to Riven’s character as well because if Darcy never rescued him, he has no other reason to be meeting her other than “I don’t care about my friends, just about being great”.

- Spring break? Wow! We really sped through that school year.

- Was that montage from Gardenia in the original? I don’t quite remember that but it is cute as hell! And to end it with Mike and Vanessa hugging while happily watching their daughter? I will go sob now if you’ll excuse me. Beautiful.

- Wait, she’s dreaming of the night Mike saved her from the fire (instead of, you know, the fire in the flower shop)? And by the looks of it, in this she doesn’t know that she’s adopted like she did in 4kids season 1... I am actually in trepidation over this next scene.

- Well, that scene went better than I thought it would. But she really didn’t know about being adopted. I am just glad that she didn’t get mad they hadn’t told her the truth. It would have broken my heart. And they are her parents anyway.

- Omg, Bloom is asking all the right questions! I cannot believe it! I am absolutely ecstatic that they changed that part because now it is really making sense (I had given up on ever saying that in regards to Winx Club again so I vote my decision to watch the specials “fucking spectacular”). She connected the dots about getting her powers from her birth parents! I have been so salty about her not asking that in season 1 but they fixed it! Imma go happy sob again.

- Faragonda is showing her stuff now? Of her own volition? Nice! I just don’t think the “Daphne lived in a lake” thing makes sense. Didn’t her soul go there after her body was destroyed by the curse of Sirenix? That is different! And considering Faragonda’s past with the Company of Light, that is not all that she knows about Daphne so she’s kinda lying.

- Now that she saw the crown, does that mean that they don’t get to waste time going to Domino even though her powers were inside her all along? I really, really hope so! And the way Daphne presented the crown to her could be taken as symbolism about Daphne passing it down to her now that Bloom is the only living heir to the throne of Domino. That was a cool detail and a great change imo (especially if they aren’t gonna go to Domino).

- Well, Lucy’s PoV was kinda made more... understandable, I guess? Like, the wording was better... right before the very end of that argument between her and Mirta. That was somehow meaner than what happened in s1. But I actually like the change to the scene with Mirta casting her spell to spy on the Trix. I think it makes more sense than the way it was done in s1.

- How does she know there is an archive in Cloud Tower when she has never been there? I think this scene suffers from the changes. And it is also really convenient that she decided to break into CT just in time for the Trix to trick her. I think those scenes were backwards in s1 and it was after the Trix saw her in CT that they came up with their plan which was better because it didn’t look so staged. Also, “What are friends for?” Yeah, right, Sky. Friends. Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuure. And you weren’t totally on a date.

- That scene with the Specialists was pretty intense considering its length. Since when is Brandon being the cautious one? While Timmy is like “Sure I’ll help you commit major offense against school rules, no probs”? I could take Brandon’s behavior as a best friend’s worry and Timmy’s as a friend’s desire to help out but it still seems a bit out of place. I am just glad that Sky is taking care of the tactics instead of just throwing himself at it.

- And there is no defense system or anything here. I can’t tell if that’s good or bad. It was kinda random when it popped up in s1 (never to be seen again, mind you) but it seems a bit illogical for the school to not have some kind of protection (especially if it has powerful spells inside). Idk.

- I am stunned by Sky’s absolute dumbassery that is bordering on being an asshole (and even tipping right into it). What does it matter if she’s a witch? She is still the same Bloom she was before she learned it, wtf, dude? (Not to mention that this pisses me off greatly because it implies that all witches are pure evil.) I just can’t understand why Bloom didn’t wonder how she has a fairy form then. She can turn into a fairy and that is pretty solid proof that she isn’t a witch. Why didn’t she question it?

- Awww! I love how worried Winx are for Bloom! And I think they’re skipping classes (and risking to get in big trouble with Griselda) to go look for her. True friendship!

- What is she doing sleeping in the bushes? And why doesn’t she just try to fly there? You know, get some proof for herself that she’s a fairy since she has the wings and all?

- Why is Stormy just setting random patches of grass on fire? I agree with Darcy, it can be dangerous if she sets the whole forest on fire.

- “Why would we be so cruel? For giggles.” XDDD

- They changed Mirta’s powers to transforming emotions into energies? That is kinda cool but isn’t that what all magic does?

- The Dragon just swept the Trix away? Is that what happened? It looked like it just fucked off into the sky without doing shit but I digress. But aww at the way Tecna scooped up Bloom so carefully! It was adorable!

- If I were Bloom, I would leave Sky a very angry message and he’d have to give a real good apology for me to take him back. The moment she appeared to be something he didn’t expect, he pulled away from her. That is not someone you want to be in a relationship with. I just wish Bloom would figure out that she can do better. If he shallow like that, you don’t need him, hon. (But hey, don’t blame Kiko! And that wasn’t bad advice! If you want to talk to someone, you should fucking call them! That was good advice.)

- Oh, no! No, no, no, no! Please, not the Day of the Royals! I beg of you! Though, it will have to happen because that is what makes Bloom go back to Gardenia where the Trix corner her. But what will happen with the Diaspro story? Bloom knows that Sky is Sky. Though, he still didn’t tell her he was engaged so I guess there can be drama over that. Ugh, why?

- “That’s a relief”? Fuck you, Sky! So her not being a witch is what makes or breaks this relationship - actually, pardon me, THIS FRIENDSHIP according to his own definition - and not, you know? Her goddamn personality maybe? Damn, what a fucker. Seriously, he is so much worse than in s1. Bloom should really stop wasting time on his sorry ass and go snatch Diaspro for herself instead. Why does he have a picture of Diaspro btw? He does not really care for her... like, at all. Not that he cares for anyone, apparently.

- Oh, so now he loves Bloom? Also, great going, Timmy! Yeah, just suggest breaking off a royal engagement. Without even asking what the political situation is. That is not the best idea. I mean, there was the possibility that Eraklyon needed that marriage. Which, of course, they don’t but still. It ain’t that simple. (God, I hate giving Sky an excuse but this really is a complicated situation. Though, he could have just told Bloom about the arranged marriage instead of lying to her.)

- She could have just waited instead of going for the option of getting them all in trouble. It was only one day. But at least Winx tried to talk her out of it instead of being right there with her in the impulsiveness. And yet, they still decided to support her like friends do. That is cute!

- “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” Ya think? And yes, being around Erendor and Samara is definitely not a great experience.

- Ooh, she saw Sky directly with Diaspro! Damn, that changes things. And I hate to admit it but it makes more sense because at least now she has a solid reason to jump to conclusions.

- Oh, no! She thinks it is the Trix again. Honestly, I just wish she would have seen Sky for the lying piece of shit that he is! It would have saved so much trouble. I feel bad for Diaspro, though. She just got attacked without having done anything to deserve it. Shocking, I know. But none of this was her fault.

- Sky really did that with Riven? I thought he would be more mature than Riven but nope. He is really campaigning for asshole of Red Fountain. I know Riven started this but Sky has previous offenses against both Bloom and Diaspro so he takes the cake.

- Codatorta was very quick into action. It was kinda impressive. I see that the conflict between Griffin and Faragonda is non-existent here. “I see it’s not just my students who can behave badly”? This coming from Griffin? That has the exact opposite tone of her line in the original. It’s kinda like “Well, we’re in this together because obviously neither my, nor your students know what the hell they are doing.” Though, it can still be taken as a subtle dig as in “You thought you had the high ground when you sent me back the Trix but look at what your fairy has done!”. That actually sounds more like it, though her tone of voice was still a bit too soft for a confrontation.

- Hey, no nightmare monster? But does that mean that the Trix don’t get expelled from CT?

- Aww, I wish she wouldn’t just leave her friends behind! And that montage of memories. (But what the heck is Tecna doing at that fountain? Get down from there, Tecna! I thought you were the reasonable one!)

- How do the Trix know Bloom is from Gardenia? It sounds like they are the bestest of friends with her instead of mortal enemies.

- Awwwwww! Mike and Vanessa keep being so supportive! I love it!

- I actually think I like how they reworked this scene! Icy dropped them in the portal thingy (whatever the hell it was) to force Bloom to transform and lower her guard at the same time and I think it made some more sense than the original did.

- “Our ancestral witches”? That sounded kinda weird. I was just about to say in my conclusion for this special that they dropped the Daphne storyline halfway through this but I see they haven’t. I am pleasantly surprised! And Bloom actually learns that she is her sister (which for some reason was missing from the 4kids dub) as well as all the stuff about Domino. Well, all in very vague terms but still.

- I actually prefer the original way they plucked the fire out of her. It was more jarring while here the animation was just a tad bit too smooth for what it needed to accomplish.

- Oh, and here her fairy form just vanished after they took the flame? I love that! It was the one thing that instantly told me that she still had her powers in s1 because she still had her winx for a while after they took it from her. But here it disappeared the moment the Trix took off with her power. I am curious to see if it is actually gone. Though, I can understand how believing she doesn’t have it anymore can get in the way of her transforming because magic comes from emotions.

This was actually better than I thought it would be and I went in with some expectations because of the first special! I am so pleasantly surprised! The plot carried well throughout this one as well and I supported about 95% of the changes they made from the original storyline which is a lot more than I expected! There was a thing or two that didn’t make much sense, but overall, this was pretty logical! My nitpick would be with the title of this special because the Trix weren’t all that central to it and there was no revenge whatsoever here. I would call it more of a hunt, really. So that would’ve been better if it had been something else having to do with Bloom since she remained at the front and center the whole time... And that didn’t annoy me at all. Wow! I kinda wish they will rework all the seasons into specials now if they can make me like Bloom (though, I admittedly had my moments of that in s1 as well. It is just that the later on we go, the more I can’t stand her). Now I am hyped about the next one and I really hope I won’t be disappointed because it will be such a shame after the good work in this one. (Oh, and the rest of Winx didn’t have much role in this one but I was actually so absorbed in the Bloom storyline that I didn’t notice until this very moment. Man, these specials are really working a miracle here!)

[theres-a-goldensky]

16 + 2 Reddie Fic Recs pt. 2

I’m back and still on my Bill Hader bullshit, so here’s another round of Reddie fic recs, because I can’t stop reading and sometimes sifting through the insane amounts of fic is a nightmare. So if you feel my pain and need some (at least in my opinion) fun stories, then come along with me on a magical journey filled with men crying during sex, hypochondria, and your mom jokes.

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

IT chapter 2 list part one - Reddie

Good Omens fic 

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

Various BL Series fic (fandoms: Love By Chance, TharnType, 2Moons series, My Engineer, Until We Meet Again, 2gether, History3: Trapped)

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

All my recs are completed, almost all of them are post-It chapter 2. * - denotes a favorite

1. I killed a clown. AMA! by liesmyth - ~10,000 words, teen - The history of Eddie and Myra’s marriage shown through their posts on reddit. The voices here are great, and it really feels like reading the reddit forums, down to the people sleuthing through their past posts and comments to try and figure out if what they’re saying is real or an elaborate troll.

 r/relationships

Posted by u/martymcfly6xo 7 months ago

 My (39F) husband (39M) likes horrible stand-up comedy. How can I stop him from bringing this up in front of our mutual friends?

For the last year or so my husband has been watching a lot of stand-up comedy on youtube. I want him to have something relaxing to do (he works a lot and gets really invested in his ‘hands-on’ hobbies in a way I’m not sure is good for him) but I was very puzzled by this discovery as he likes very crass acts and that is certainly not the kind of humor hubby usually enjoys...

2. all of the kids back home believing much more than you do by eatcheeseliveforever - ~11,000 words, explicit - This is a fix-it fic, which is becoming more and more rare in this fandom as we collectively started deciding that Eddie Kaspbrak doesn’t need to be brought back to live, because he never died in the first place, dammit. It has some great pining by Richie. You can really feel his grief and desperation as he searches for a way to get Eddie back. The other Losers are great in this too, especially Mike with his whales.

"A boat, actually," murmured Mike.  "I'm on a whale-watching cruise."

Richie mouthed the words "whale watching cruise" to himself.  Empirically he knew such things existed, that they happened not far away from the coast where he lived, but it felt like several fucking galaxies away from where he was, surrounded by the ghosts of takeouts and blackouts past and the actual ghost-ghosts, who he couldn't step in or stub his toe on at three in the morning, but hurt so much worse.

"He said you've been googling resurrection rituals."

Richie scrounged through his pile of empties, hoping one wasn't.  "Bill talks too much."

"Richie."  A sigh, or a wave, or a really quiet whale.  "You're not going to find a resurrection ritual on Google."

"I've found hundreds," said Richie.  "Funny thing, though, they all seem to call for orgies.  Or virgin sacrifices.  Or sacrificing someone's virginity in an orgy.  I'm hoping Ben will volunteer as tribute."

3. * - you’ve got the answers to my confessions by QueerOnTilMorning - ~17,000 words, explicit - This is the good stuff right here. Richie accidentally sexts Eddie and Eddie is IN. TO. IT. This fic starts with excellent phone sex, there’s misunderstandings and confessions in the middle, and then it ends with super hot sex. There’s a brief part with karaoke that was a bit of a lull in the story, but doesn’t take away from how great the rest is.

     suck on ur tongue  

     show u how much I missd that mouth  

     when u start getting weak in the knees  

     thats when ill get on mine  

 He set the phone aside to unzip his pants, palming himself through his boxers, already half-hard.

 Then he froze.

 The text he had just replied to--it was what he'd expected Travis to say, but it wasn't how Travis would say it. That text began with a capital letter and contained punctuation. That text was from--

 "Oh, fuck, no," Richie whispered, and his phone rang.

 Incoming call: Eds

4. * -  L'Appel du Vide by Mackem - ~92,000 words, teen - I know, I know, almost 100k and no sex, but hear me out! The pining in this fic is so exquisitely beautiful and wrenching. Eddie’s POV is excellent and feels really spot on. The other Losers are well represented, especially Ben and Bev. In fact, the group dynamics here are almost as good as the relationship stuff. The later chapters bring in a subplot about the deadlights that I wasn’t that interested in, but it’s still done really, really well, and that’s only a side plot that doesn’t impact that exceptional story of Eddie and Richie figuring out how to stop being dummies.

Two messages, however, are from Stanley, sent to him privately. He opens them, and is met with a picture of Richie, apparently taken without him realising.

It shows him laughing, his eyes crinkled at the corners behind his glasses, and his smile bright and broad as a hand gestures wildly in the air. The other hand is in his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he tilts his head back, displaying the line of his throat beneath his stubble.

The breath is punched from Eddie at the sight of it.

He stares at it for a long moment, surprised by the depth of his reaction. His stomach is swirling happily, a bubble of excitement growing at the pit, and he cannot help but feel a heated flush build at his cheeks.

It’s probably just because Richie looks like he’s enjoying himself. It’s good to see his friend having fun. That has to be it.

Then he reads Stan’s message.

Stan: He was talking about you. He does that a lot.

5. my love a beacon in the night - by zach_stone - ~4500 words, explicit - Richie is on the road doing shows through Christmas. His friends have a surprise for him. I know it’s almost Valentine’s Day, but it’s never the wrong time for a fluffy Christmas story imo.

 “Yep, just got to my hotel,” Richie says. “Now I’m getting ready for my big Christmas Eve plans.”

 Eddie snorts. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

 “Well according to my TV guide, they’re doing a rerun of The Mistletoe Promise, so I’m all fuckin’ set,” Richie says, grinning when Eddie laughs. On Eddie’s end of the line, he hears the sound of cars passing by, the muffled chatter of people, and says, “Are you outside?”

 “Huh? Oh, yeah,” Eddie says.

 Richie glances at the clock on the nightstand. It’s after ten; Eddie’s not one to be wandering around Times Square after dark. He frowns slightly. Eddie’s been unusually vague about his holiday plans, so Richie has no clue what he’s up to this evening. Not that it’s any of his business. Maybe he’s started seeing someone and is spending the holidays with them. Richie has a sudden image of Eddie, arm-in-arm with some generically pretty woman, taking in the lights and decorations around the city. It opens a pit in his stomach.

6. Coming Back and Coming Out: Richie Tozier's 2019 by Lunatical - ~2000 words, teen - I genuinely adore the mixed media fics that this fandom has spawned. This one is an excerpt from a magazine interview with Richie as he restarts his career.

Slouched on his couch in a cheesy Hawaiian shirt and torn-up jeans, Richie Tozier looks exactly like the manchild he is describing himself to be. Next to him, sitting up straight and dressed in a lovely suit that most people would consider appropriate for an interview, his husband rolls his eyes.

When we scheduled this interview, Tozier insisted we hold it at their house, citing a desire for the interview to be “as chill as possible”—in his own words, of course. He argued that seeing the two of them in their usual environment would help me get a better idea of the kind of relationship they have. After walking into their apartment and seeing the way they’ve decorated the place, I have to admit that I can understand why.

7. baby, there’s no other superstar by kaspbrakziers - ~7000 words, mature - Another mixed media fic that shows the progression of Richie and Eddie’s relationship and Richie’s career through tweets, texts, and interviews. Eddie not knowing how to turn off the capslock on his phone absolutely sent me.

Search history

Today Sunday, 13 November 2016

should i get a divorce? - Google Search

Unhappily Married: Should I get a divorce? - Yahoo Answers

10 Signs Your Marriage Is Over - Buzzfeed

how to divorce? - Google Search

How To File For Divorce (With Pictures) - wikiHow

how to divorce someone without them getting angry? – Google Search

can you divorce someone without telling them? - Google Search

8. Goes on Trips for the Scenery by InkandOwl - ~4500 words, teen - Eddie dies and then comes back to life and tries to get some perspective. I liked the conversations between Eddie and Richie and then way that Eddie starts to take care of himself. The end is really sweet.

If cosmic power and a literal alien space clown’s death wasn’t going to bring him back to life, Eddie was certain that the terrible pain of hearing Richie beg, his tears dropping onto Eddie’s face, probably would’ve done it. He feels sick just thinking about it. About what it all means. “Yeah, Rich, I will.” He could throw a jab at him, tell him something about eating like an adult for once, but he wants to be easy with him right now. Richie deserves it. “You’ll text, right?”

Richie looks down at the prepaid cricket phone in Eddie’s hand and laughs, “There’s no fucking way that thing gets texts.”

“It does.” Eddie grins, “You could call too.”

The fight drains from Richie, his shoulder slumping and he sighs, “Yeah, Eds, I’ll call.”

9. cause i'm about to blow that back out by thotgreeves - ~5000 words, explicit - Here, have some porn. Eddie wears lingerie and Richie loses his goddamn mind. Features submissive top Richie and his unending boner for Eddie.

Richie really should have learnt to never underestimate Eddie Kaspbrak by now. It had come close to killing Richie once, but Eddie might actually be trying to finish him off.

Because the other perk of always letting Eddie go ahead of him was that it gave Richie a prime view of Eddie's ass. Eddie knew about this part and was okay with it. He was wearing a high-waisted pair of slacks that Richie was pretty sure came from the women's section, slightly loose in the legs but nicely filled out by his ass. Richie had been very vocal in the past about how hot they got him, which signaled that Eddie definitely wanted to have sex tonight, and that was already enough to make Richie's dick twitch in excitement. He hadn't been prepared for the finishing blow.

Richie's eyes were fixed, pendulum-like, on how Eddie's slacks were hugging his butt perfectly with every step he took, tight enough to show off the outline of his underwear. Only the folds didn't sit where Richie had expected them to. Instead, Richie realized, his mouth going dry, that in the absence of boxers, there was only a V-shaped crease running from Eddie's hips to between his asscheeks, which could only mean-

Eddie was wearing a thong.

10. * - I’ll Be Homo For Christmas by Amuly - ~15,000 words, explicit - Bill and Audra get a divorce, so Bill moves into Richie’s house with him. Eddie, watching all of this from New York, where he’s still married to Myra, is super, super ok and fine with it in every way.

Except then Richie started posting.

Just stupid shit, mostly with Bill. It wasn’t even real. Eddie knew Bill wasn’t gay and him and Richie were just fucking around ‘for the ‘gram!’ But the more posts Eddie scrolled past on Richie’s Instagram—

 Bill in the kitchen swatting at Richie with a spatula.

 Richie and Bill at the pound, Richie rating dogs on adoptability, Richie begging Bill to adopt a dog with him.

 Richie in the morning with bedhead, smiling blearily into the camera as Bill…

Well. Eddie couldn’t even remember what stupid thing Bill was supposed to be doing in the background of that photo because his eyes couldn’t get past Richie’s bedhead and shirtless torso, chest hairs creeping up towards his collarbones and the little dip at the base of his throat.

Eddie hadn’t thought he was homophobic. But he must have some unresolved issues with it, because he got a stomachache every time he looked at that photo of Richie. Eddie popped a Tums and resolved to talk about it with his therapist.

11. A High-Five is a Hug You Can Hit by Amuly - ~26,000 words, explicit - This fic shows us times throughout their friendship when Eddie and Richie would invent reasons to touch each other without even knowing why. This author feels the same bone deep conviction about Richie crying during sex that I do, and I greatly appreciate that. Plus, all of their stories are fantastic, including this one.

“You know, one of the symptoms of hypothermia is feeling like you’re warm. So like, your body gets so cold that it gets hot, and then you start taking off your clothes-”

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Eddie?” Richie shot back at him without turning around.

“Why don’t you ask your sister how much she liked it last week!” Eddie hollered up at him. Richie just flipped him off without looking. That kinda… bugged Eddie. What the fuck did Richie think he was doing leading up the group with Bill? Why was he stuck back here with Stan? Eddie glanced over at Stan, who was trudging tiredly through the woods alongside him, breath puffing out in little clouds of smoke.

“Okay, Stan?”

Stan glanced over at him, confused. Then he shrugged. “Yeah, fine. Cold.”

“Well that’s better than feeling warm.” And now Eddie was back on track. “Because, if anyone starts feeling warm, they should tell the others immediately. That’s a sign of hypothermia. And we have to warm you up. But you have to do it gradually, you can’t just jump in like, a pot of boiling water-”

12. * - fall apart of stay intact by kaspbrak_kid - ~19,000 words, teen - A more melancholy take on the Christmas fic. This story takes Richie’s self-esteem issues and mental problems and amps them up in a way that feels entirely realistic. The gang comes together to celebrate Christmas, and everyone is walking on eggshells because last Christmas was a bad one for Richie. Also, Eddie moves into the house literally right next to Richie’s, and I find that detail endlessly charming.

“Five minutes ago. I called you, and you didn’t answer. Because you were outside, apparently, fucking...stargazing in December! With no hat on!”

“It’s about the Vitamin D!” Richie says. Now that he’s moved a little, he can really feel the cold—his ears are aching, and his face is numb. “Reflecting off the moon, or something. I have seasonal depression, you know!”

“You have seasonal stupidity,” Eddie mutters, audibly rubbing his hands together. “Just get inside.”

“Yours or mine?” Richie jokes.

Eddie doesn’t get the memo. “Mine, obviously. I’ll make you hot chocolate.”

“Oh,” Richie says, and sits up. “Um. Okay, be right there.”

“Oh, thank god,” Eddie says, and hightails it to his back door, cursing about the cold.

13. evidence of a happier future by lagaudiere - 23,000 words, mature - I am here, leading the Jealous!Eddie revolution. Why aren’t there more fics about this. Have you SEEN Eddie Kaspbrak, can you IMAGINE him jealous? Make this happen, fandom. Anyway, in this one, Richie has a boyfriend back in LA. Eddie has trouble dealing with that as he tries to figure himself out and pick up the pieces of his life post-Derry.

“It’s not gonna be like Mike’s announcement, don’t worry,” Richie says hastily. “And it’s not like, a huge thing, so don’t make it a huge thing. But you guys are like, my best friends, and I just wanted you to know that I’m, uh. Gay.”

He turns up his palms and raises his eyebrows in a gesture that suggests a magician presenting his audience with an empty hat after making the rabbit disappear, and Eddie says, “Are you joking?”

“What? Jesus, no, Eddie.” Richie’s face falls, and Eddie instantly feels guilty. “I’m trying to be sincere here.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says immediately, feeling all of their friends looking at him with reproach. “I was just — if you weren’t, I wouldn’t think you should… joke about it.”

“Well, I am,” Richie says. He sounds slightly put out — and who wouldn’t be, Eddie scolds himself, by that ridiculous response. “I have all the gay credientials. I have a boyfriend, partner, whatever people say. I don’t really tell people because of the whole, stage persona, thing. But yeah.”

“Richie!” Bev’s voice breaks through the awkwardness, and she reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thank you for telling us. Really.”

And the others all join in, a chorus of voices telling Richie they love him and they’re proud of him, and Ben is saying, “I wanna see a picture of the guy!” and Eddie’s throat feels like it’s closing up.

14. The ‘Do Not Fucking Touch Me’ Tour by MellytheHun - ~23,000 words, explicit - It’s Richie’s comeback special, and he makes it a big one. This...isn’t really a comedy show, but the author lampshades that. It’s an excuse to have Richie talk about how much he loves each of his friends individually, and it’s extremely entertaining. Richie doesn’t know that Eddie is in the audience watching it all.

“Hey, uhm… Eddie… he couldn’t reschedule his thing? He - I mean... it… it was really that important?”

She feels awful for him immediately, but not wanting to spoil what would ultimately be a lovely surprise, she tells him, “I’m sorry, Rich. He said it was urgent. He was really sorry about it.”

Her phone buzzes with a text from Eddie right as Richie curses under his breath, missing the noise. She clutches her phone more tightly in her fist, knowing Eddie is wondering where his seat is going to be; she bought him a separate ticket, elsewhere in the theatre, so Richie wouldn’t catch him sitting among them, as he will absolutely, inevitably look over to the Losers for most of the show.

“Okay,” Richie surrenders sadly, “Uh - I guess he’ll see it eventually, right?”

Smiling forlornly at him, she pats his arm, and tells him, “don’t worry, Richie. Your genius will inevitably be forced upon us all.”

He smiles at her, gives her a kiss on the cheek, and when Bill jokingly asks why he didn’t get one, Richie flips him off, and reminds them to treat themselves to the bar in the lobby.

Once he’s backstage, Beverly takes her phone out, and emails Eddie his ticket, explains that she’s already convinced Richie he’s not coming, and to make sure he doesn’t show up too early, or Richie will notice.

15. The List by cissues - ~7000 words, teen - Eddie finds a list he wrote as a teenager. Richie tries his best to fulfill them all. This is very sweet.

‘ All the things I want. Everything I’m not allowed to have. A perfect summer. ”

The words hit gentler than he thought they would, but they still hit and he finds himself blinking away at a wetness at the corner of his eye. He wipes at it and sniffles and Richie peers sidelong at him to make sure he’s okay. He is, he’s fine, and Richie never dotes on him when things are, generally, okay. Only when he needs it, which is one of the many things he loves about what they have now.

“This is… this is like a fucking  bucket list  for the most repressed child in the world.” Richie says, breathless.

Eddie rolls his eyes to hide the sting. “You’re looking at him,” he says, bitter. Richie frowns at him but turns back to the paper. Another thing Eddie loves, Richie never takes his trauma-induced bait. His knee-jerk reactions developed over years of what he’s now comfortable enough to call abuse.

16. Richie Tozier Answers the Web's Most Searched Questions by DeadpanMage - ~2000 words, teen - This is a short one, but the transcript of this popular YT video format with Richie felt spot on in terms of characterization and Richie’s voice.

[Back to the text screen: “So WIRED asked Richie Tozier some of the internet’s burning questions.” Cut back to Richie, now holding a poster board with several Google autocomplete searches half covered.]

Richie: I’ve undergone something of a rebranding in the past year, so I wonder how many of these questions are going to be super irrelevant-slash-embarrassing. Probably all of them. Let’s get started! [He tears the covering off of the first question.] Alright, that’s not bad. “How to pronounce Richie Tozier?” Well, we’re only on question one and I’ve already said it like a hundred times so there you go. And that’s “Richie Tozier” spelled J-O-H-N M-U-L-A-N-E-Y, so if you’ve got any complaints be sure to send them that way. Next question!

You can check out a larger list of stories I’ve enjoyed in my AO3 bookmarks. And finally, if you’re interested, here are the two fics I’ve written:

1. Waiting For a Sign - ~6000 words, explicit - Eddie meets Richie again and comes to the startling realization that he totally wants to hit that.

Maybe if Richie wasn’t famous, Eddie could have found a way to let it go. A couple furtive jerk off sessions in the shower after he got back to New York and the image of Richie’s big hands and wide smile and improbably flattering stubble would fade from his mind.

But Richie was famous, and the internet never forgot.

Eddie lasted three days before giving in and typing ‘Richie Tozier’ into the YouTube search bar. Just seeing Richie in the thumbnails was enough to make Eddie’s heart thud, what the fuck. He had to scroll past a bunch of news videos about Richie's supposed mental breakdown, but after that he landed on some old stand-up.

Before he clicked on the first video, he got up and made sure that the door of his study was locked. Then he turned off the lights and put on a pair of earbuds.

Fake It ‘Til You Make It - ~21,000 words, explicit - It’s that totally relatable situation where the man you’re secretly in love with is a celebrity who just came out and now needs a fake boyfriend to keep himself in the spotlight. Eddie offers to help out of the goodness of his heart and not because he’s insanely fucking jealous.

Eddie froze, breath catching in his throat.

Richie looked...really good.

Bev’s influence was obvious. His hair, which had been unkempt and shaggy, a perfect match for his stoner permakid schtick, was cut much shorter and neater. His formerly unruly stubble somehow now emphasized the sharp cut of his jaw instead of obscuring it.

He wore new glasses, Eddie noticed. Slim silver metal frames instead of his giant, clunky plastic ones. The fitted black sweater and dark blue jeans were simple, but made his shoulders look impossibly broad and his legs miles long.

Fuck everything and Beverly Marsh in particular.

LINK TO MY FIRST SET OF REDDIE RECS 30+ FICS

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Aladdin Queen fic John Deacon x reader Chap. 12; Happy Ending

*Author’s note*

And here it is guys, the last part of my first Disney AU fic. I want to thank everyone who gave this fic a chance and I hope to eventually come up with another Disney AU fic. But until then I’ve got another upcoming movie AU for Queen that I know you all are going to love.

SO until the next update stay safe, stay healthy and stay hydrated (esp. for us dealing with the summer heat right now)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@dancingcoolcat​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queensdivas​

@geek-and-proud​

@queendeakyy​

@kairosfreddie​

___________________________________________________________

With the defeat of Paul and him being sealed in the lamp, everything that he had done to my homeland turned back to normal. The palace was rebuilt and back to brand new, Brian and Roger turned back into normal humans once again, John’s royal clothes were restored, the three Kings soon appeared free from their cage, and Simba and Nala returned to their original size.

As Paul continued his pitiless threats, Freddie and I just grinned at each other and he said as he took Paul’s lamp from my hands.

“Allow me darling. Ten thousand years in the Cave of Wonders outta chill you out.” He then tossed the lamp in the air like a ball before swinging a bat that he made appear in his hands to hit Paul’s lamp far beyond the sand dunes right to the Cave of Wonders.

I turned to see the Princes unite with their fathers hugging and kissing each other.  Their pets nuzzling their heads against their master’s legs thankful to have them back once more.  Nervously I walked towards them and when John turned towards me I said.

“I—I’m so sorry. For everything.”

“No my dear, there is no need to apologizes. How can we ever thank you?” John’s father asked.

“No, no, no there’s no reason to thank me. I just hope you can one day forgive me for my lies and deceit. Especially you John Deacon.” He looked at me solemnly.  “You deserve—so much better than me.”

“We all make mistakes.” Brian’s father said softly with a warm smile.  I nodded and took off my engagement ring and walked back towards John.  I gave him his mother’s ring back and closed his palm before walking back towards Freddie.

“(Y/n)!” John called out my name.  I turned to him and gave him a light smile and assured him with my eyes.

“You’re going to be remembered as the Greatest king your country will ever know.” I nodded before turning my back on him and grabbed the lamp.  I watched as Abu dragged the remaining parts of Carpet who had been ripped during our battle and Freddie hissed in pain as he said.

“Ohh that’s uhh—bit of a mess there Abu. Let me take care of that for you dear.” Using his magic he repaired Carpet like brand new.  He came back to life which made Abu happy to have his best friend back.

He leapt towards Carpet and the two of them hugged each other.  Freddie grinned and said.

“Aww now that’s lovely.” He then turned towards me and tutted. “Ah-ah-ah no long faces there darling. Okay I got an idea, alright? This is your last wish. Royalty was the right idea, okay? We just gotta re-route it a little how about this?” He then transformed into an Amazonian warrior and he said, “(Y/n) Warrior Princess. Defender of the weak and hunter of thieves and villains.” He then readied one of the arrows into the bow and he pulled back as he cried out, “For King John Deacon!” He then released the arrow and phased back to his normal self, “Good right?”

I shook my head at him.

“No? Okay, alright. I hear you. But this is what you need,” he then held out a scroll and unraveled it before going through the very long scroll, “See governing laws of England. See here we—ah-ha here we are. ‘Must marry a Princess of an allied country’. Now you say the right words and this law—kinda goes away. You and Deacy darling over there. Together forever.”

“Wait so—you can get rid of the law?” I asked him.

“Pfft, darling please. Like it’s that hard.” I chuckled a sigh and said as I held the lamp in my hands.

“Okay.”

“Alright darling let’s do this. For the whole kit and kaboodle.”

“Freddie;” he shook his hands out and readied himself ready to work his magic for the final time.

“Bring it to me darling, I’m ready.”

“I wish……”

“Don’t hold back now. One final wish.”

“I wish—to set you free.”

“One princess pedigree coming—wait what?” He began to glow and his wrists began to shine as his cuffs came off of him and landed on the ground before disintegrating.  He was slowly lowered back down to the ground as he now was in his human disguise, but this time it was eternal.

Freddie was now human.

He was in full disbelief as he looked up at me down to his wrists, not believing what it was that had just happened.

“Umm…..quick, quick wish for something outrageous darling.”

“Like what?”

“I-I don’t know, wish for the Nile. Say I wish for the Nile?”

“Uhh I wish for the Nile?”

“Fuck no!” he exclaimed.  I chuckled and he chuckled back.  Tears filled his eyes as he raced right up and immediately hugged me as tight as he could and spun me around.  I held onto him, the two of us burying our faces into each other’s necks. “Thank you darling (y/n). Thank you.” I heard him whimper as tears fell onto my neck.

“No, thank you Freddie. For everything.” He set me down and he cupped my face in between his hands and he said again.

“And no matter what anybody says, you’ll always be my Princess.” I smiled and closed my eyes as I felt him kiss my forehead.

“So—what will you do with your freedom?” I asked him.

“Well…..” he turned back towards the six rulers along with Jim. “There—is this animal keeper that I would love—to spend the rest of my life with. If…..he’ll have me?” Freddie said as he and Jim walked towards each other.

Jim turned towards the Princes and the three of them nodded telling him to get on with it.  Jim turned back around and he said.

“When do we start? Also I’d love to have some cats.”

“Yes darling, bunches of them.”

“Ten in total. We’ll save any cat off the street and heal them and give them a warm home while you entertain them with songs and music.”

“And we can run a shop together.”

“Yes a large one filled with treasures the world has to offer.”

“I was kinda thinking a more smaller one.”

“That works too.” Freddie smiled widely and he and Jim embraced each other before giving each other a passionate kiss.

*John’s POV*

I’m proud that Jim finally found himself someone to spend the rest of his life with.  He deserves to have someone, even if they were formally a genie, but Freddie seemed good for him. I felt a hand take mine and I turned to see my father.

“Come, sit with me my son.” He guided me away from Roger and Brian who were now speaking with their father’s individually. “I am sorry.”

“Father what is—”

“Please let me finish.” He said.  He looked at me with solemn eyes but I could see they held some pride in them, those strong eyes that I’ve always admired and hoped to gain one day just like him.  “My beloved son. Harold, Michael and I were so afraid of losing you boys, like we lost your mothers. That we were blind at only seeing the three small boys you three once were. Not the three strong men you’ve become. You alone have shown me what true courage, loyalty, and strength you have. You are the future of England.”

He then removed the ring of Kings from his finger and held it out to me.

“You—are ready to be the next king of all England.” I looked at him in shock.

“All?”

“Yes. You know as well as I that Roger and Brian had no real desire for the throne. So their fathers and I have decided that only one king should rule all of England. And you have proven to be that one king we all need. Your friends and brothers shall be what they longed to be, and still remain as they help you rule at your side. Brian shall be your astronomer and advisor. While Roger shall help you lead your explorations and Navy.”

I—I couldn’t believe it.  I was to be crowned King of not just my kingdom, but all the kingdoms of England.  My father and uncles were planning to unity all three of our kingdoms into one sole English kingdom, and now I am it’s king.

With tears in my eyes I took the ring and stood up over my father and choked out gratefully.

“Thank you father. I will make you proud.”

“You already have. And as king, you may change the laws as you see fit.” He took my hands in his and kissed my fingers before looking back up at me proudly, “She is just like your mother was to me.” My lip quivered and I hugged my father as tight as I could as a few tears fell out.

“Wh—where is she?” I heard Freddie say.  We all looked up and I took notice that (y/n) was indeed gone.

Clever girl must’ve slipped out throughout all this emotional scenes.

“Go after her John.” My father said.  I nodded and looked down to Nala and said.

“Come on girl.” She obeyed and trailed behind me as the two of us left the palace to find (y/n).

*My POV*

Through all that emotion and finally doing what I was set out to do, I decided it was best to just slip back into my normal life, if I could.  Abu walked along my side as we left the palace and the people were once again out along the village ready to start their day.

I felt around my pocket before finally taking out the second ring I had taken from John the night of our first meeting. I grinned and placed it over my thumb when a voice called out.

“Stop right there thief! The King of England commands you.” The crowd stopped and I could hear faint whispers.  I turned around and there stood John with Nala behind him.  I raised my brow at him as I said.

“King? Does that mean I’m in trouble?” I took off his ring and held it up to show him.  He walked up toward me and said throwing my own words back in my face.

“Only because you got caught.” I felt his index finger go under my chin to lift my head up and that’s when I felt his lips immediately kiss mine.

I closed my eyes and slowly wrapped my arms around his neck and brushed through his short chocolate hair.  I felt his arm wrap around my waist as his other hand gently cupped the side of my face deepening our kiss.  We separated for a brief second before smiling at each other and kissing each other again.

By nightfall our final kiss of the day was our first kiss as husband and wife.  My entire kingdom witnessed this glorious event and all applauded for the King of England finally found his bride; me.

After we separated I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face as our friends and family came over to congratulate us.

John hugged his father and I hugged Freddie who also gave me a kiss on each cheek.  I was also hugged by my new brother in laws and dearest friends Roger and Brian.  But the greatest pleasure of all was when I had the three former kings hug and kiss me welcoming me to their family.

We all stood in a line before my people as I now represented them in our alliance with England.  Fireworks boomed across the night sky signaling celebration. Carpet came up to John and I and we got on top of him and he flew us up high into the sky over the fireworks as my people all stared and continued to applaud for us.

I turned to my new husband and he smiled down at me and tucked a strand of hair back behind my ear before the two of us kissed once more as Carpet took us far beyond the sky off to a whole new world.

[shipping-receiving]

JB Fav Fics

Ages ago, I reblogged @chickren​‘s post (from 2013!) and I promised to give it a shot but got all tied up with my dissertation and my own fic. Now that my dissertation is done, I HAVE COMPLETED THIS. Bear in mind these answers might be a bit ‘dated’ as well (by a few months) because I’ve not been reading much fic on my end. Turns out when I’m writing my own, I can only hold one version of J/B in my head. 

Anyway this list is LONG AND TOOK ME FOREVER and I also wrote comments because I can’t help myself. So everything is under the cut. I took out the Shuffled Challenge one (very 2013 lol) and I replaced it with a category called... favourite S8 fix-it. Can you believe it? After I made all this noise about not being able to read fix-its?

[J/B Fic Recs: Master Post if anyone needs it before we start things off]

Favourite fic set immediately after ADWD Second to fucking none: Honor Thy Regard by SigilBroken Nights Without Armor by bratanimus

Favourite fic set a long time after ADWD Oh. Salt Wife by Lady_in_Red. Breathtaking simplicity.

Favourite TV canon fic Pretty and Traveling Far by astolat A Man for All Seasons by dreadwulf

Favourite S8 fix-it Yes, I know. I can’t deal with fix-its. And yet. Ice by Gwen77 Ring Them Bells by kirazi Battle is the Great Redeemer by Lady_In_Red

Favourite modern AU Clean hands by you-know-who (... it’s Gwen77) + all the classics:  Fever by Lady_In_Red On the Night’s Watch by Miss_M It’s Like Weather by ssstrychnine Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken And of course our recent fandom favourite: two halves of a soul by angel_deux

Favourite kiss (Don’t specify chapter) Okay this is kind of a random one but I remember re-reading Roommate Wanted by JustAGirl24 a couple months back, and when they finally kissed I wanted to freaking throw my phone across the room. It’s not even described in detail, it was just such a perfectly timed OMFG!!! THEY KISSED! moment.

Favourite smut Anything by Miss_M, good lord. My all-time favourite is Golden and True (modern AU, sequel to Ball and Chain), but for canon!verse it has to be Heart’s Desire and Spring Awakening. And obviously I have to say Flawed by francoeurs – smut exploring J/B’s Issues with a capital I? I’m THERE.

And for multi-chapter fic, Everyone Has Secrets by ellaria is fire. Oh and also, everyone’s favourite professor AU, Stacked by QuizzicalQuinnia.

Favourite UST On the Night’s Watch and Someone to Watch Over Me by Miss_M. I love that these two fics take place over such a short time (a few days) but they manage to feel like slow burns. That’s fucking skill right there.

Best written fic I hate this question. You want me to pick the best-written fic out of the FIVE THOUSAND J/B FICS ON AO3? Lmao I’m skipping.

Favourite fic with an unusual premise Multiverse central: All the Roads are Winding by ShirleyAnn66 In which Brienne can turn into a sea lion: This Is Your Wilderness by hardlyfatal GENDER SWAP: all knights are gallant and all maids are beautiful by janie_tangerine Jaime is a sculptor: Madonna of the Balcony by QuizzicalQuinnia Jaime does needlework: Hold This Threadbare Heart at Needlepoint by nire

Favourite action scene Words by astolat. The entire battle sequence.

Favourite dialogue Clean hands by Gwen77, Chapter 9. So cathartic, and SO MUCH HAPPENING. Not just J/B but Tyrion and Cersei on the phone too. I mean I just tried to re-read it to pick an excerpt (I can’t) and I already started crying lmao

Favourite characterization of Jaime A Man for All Seasons by dreadwulf. THE NUANCE. THE DETAIL.

Favourite characterization of Brienne Any fucking thing by Gwen77. Especially Clean hands, Diplomacy and Ice.

Favourite relationship development Where I follow, you’ll go by Lady_In_Red Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken, OBVIOUSLY It’s Like Weather by ssstrychnine Patience on a Monument by betts, even though they’re already friends, because betts makes me sit through Jaime/Sansa and Brienne/Tormund and yet I still re-read this.

Favourite use of non-typical character. Exclude these: Jaime, Brienne, Podrick, Hyle, Cersei, Sansa, Margaery, Tyrion, Daenerys, Selwyn, Tywin. Hmm this is a tough one. Maybe Loras the photographer in Living Fiction by Archetype_Electraheart

Favourite plot In This Light by SigilBroken for canon!verse endgame On the Night’s Watch by Miss_M and Everyone Has Secrets by ellaria for modern AU. I love J/B investigating stuff together.

Favourite title Nobody Knows / You Know and I Know by Miss_M “There’s a story,” Brienne says, “about a corrupt official who went to a sage and offered him to take part in a scheme, promising no one would ever know. ‘How can you say that?’ the sage replied. ‘I know, and you know, and the earth knows, and the sky knows.’”

Favourite WiP (finished or unfinished) With All Your Faults by seaspirit (close to the end!!!) The Descent by openmouthwideeye And this is finished but Tale As Old As Time by BrienneofThrace. She came back after like four years to finish it?! That alone is fandom magic.

Favourite long one-shot Pretty by astolat (wtf this is 30k?)

Favourite short one-shot OH MY GOD THE GLASSES FIC. Age Gap by ikkiM

Favourite drabble Mmmmm I don’t really read drabbles so I’ll skip this too.

Favourite beginning What is True, But Not Ideal by Vera: Jaime doesn’t appear for like four chapters and yet I was still on board.

Favourite ending IT’S FUCKING Clean hands by Gwen77 OKAY DON’T @ ME. Traveling Far by astolat – because she just Went There and gave J/B five kids The Sorrows That Women Cause by Mussimm (seventh and final part of Works and Days, in which they just... bang)

Favourite story twist more like the man you were meant to be by janie_tangerine. I mean, this isn’t really an internal twist, more like a twist on canon The Importance of Knocking by Miss_M, since it’s a story twist for Cersei lol.

Funniest story St George's Day by sansasparky The Best Legs You've Ever Seen by ikkiM

Favourite angst In the first version of this list I said I wouldn’t pick Gwen77 again for this one, and then I re-read Ice and cried my eyes out for like, the whole thing. Special mention for catherineflowers’ series We Need to Talk About…, because of how much she just commits entirely to some really dark stuff. It’s something I wouldn’t necessarily re-read, but just the audacity it took for her to write this is really impressive.

Favourite fluff The Higher Education of Brienne of Tarth and Drunken Shenanigans with Jaime and Brienne by BrienneofThrace. Anything by BrienneofThrace to be honest. She does the purest J/B. Also, Nothing That Is So, Is So by RoseHeart, and i get to be the other half of you + The 'Kiss Me' Series by sameboots.

Favourite Jaime line Yooooooo that part in Laying Siege by astolat when Jaime just launches into his wedding proposal: “I swear to you before these witnesses that I will protect Sansa Stark with my life, beside you. I will never take the field against her. I will take your name and your crest and your house as my own—”... I can feel myself being Brienne going WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

Favourite Brienne line Yeah yeah here I go picking Gwen77 again. The very last lines of all her fics always slay me, but this is the only line I can quote verbatim, from Diplomacy: “Trapped, he had said, worry in his voice. Ruined. She had never felt so free.”

Favourite general line or excerpt I love the way Gwen77 commits to the motif of walls in Ice. I freaked out about it here. And then after all that talk about Brienne building up her walls she just HITS US WITH THIS FINAL LINE:

“Jaime was hers, encircling, warm, solid as a wall. He would catch her if she fell.”

Favourite non-romantic fic The tale of Squire!Brienne series by LadyRhiyana

Favourite maiming adaptation in a modern AU Fever by Lady_In_Red, because I love how the whole story is built on Jaime learning how to ride again with a mangled hand

Favourite kidfic Not really a full-on kidfic, but You Know and I Know (sequel to Nobody Knows) for that Jaime & Tommen relationship, plus that conversation J/B have about having kids in future. Oh, and so brief, but Traveling Far by astolat.

Craziest scene that was in character and made sense (Don’t specify chapter) Let’s just go for the entirety of Stannis Baratheon, Fantasy Football League Commissioner by ikkiM AND THAT FUCKING J/B/C FIC THAT I READ BECAUSE I DIDN’T LOOK AT THE TAGS OKAY: Pride by astolat

Most underrated fic My Fall by TeamGwenee. Witches in 1600s colonial America AND in first person POV? IT WORKS THO. Such an interesting and original premise, and written in a very refreshing succinct style, and yet this multi-chapter fic has less than 200 kudos. Another one with less than 200 kudos: and you’ve whispered what I’m worth by angel_deux, a really lovely Mad Max: Fury Road AU.

Most desperate to see updated NO PRESSURE!!! for our world is cold and full of monsters by chancellor_valdez room service by ssstrychnine A Star Within the Mere by isavedlatin (sigh)

Favourite J/B as a secondary couple Some Kind of Family by crossingwinter

Most haunting Fool by astolat. I don’t know why. It’s a very beautiful story and it’s not even a bad ending for J/B necessarily, but the fact that it ends the way it does just really fucks me up. It’s the only fic in my bookmarks that I don’t think I can ever bear to re-read.

Favourite (friendship or hate) relationship between Jaime and another character One Of The Few Things by anniebibananie (Sansa) – I’m picking this just for the sheer I-can’t-believe-you-made-this-work-and-I-applaud-you factor

Favourite (friendship or hate) relationship between Brienne and another character What Is True, But Not Ideal by Vera (Tyrion)

[emeraldtawny]

Why I Love The 7 of Hearts

...I said I would do it. And now that it has officially been one month since his route release, the official banner for spoilers is now lifted! That being said, I’ll put a disclaimer now: I will be talking about key aspects and spoilers from Kyle’s route. Be warned.

Alright, now onto my thesis. Title: Why Kyle Ash Is My Favourite Otome Husband To Date - An Incredibly Biased Review, by Tawny ^w^

Part 1: Before his route

Before we talk about the actual route itself, let me explain to you guys why this man already had my heart before even getting to date him. I’ll be honest; when the game first came out, he was already in my top 3 but he was not the best boi (that went to Fenrir and stayed like that for a bit). That is, until I played through Lancelot’s route. Being able to get more interactions with Kyle gave me more insight into the kind of person he is, and I honestly liked what I saw. He condemned Lancelot for throwing his life away needlessly without concern for his safety (important note to come back to) and made it clear that his affiliation with the Red Army didn’t mean anything when there are lives on the line (another impotant point to revisit). I honestly respected that about him and sure enough, he snuck his way into top spot and has stayed there since. And if I’m being real, his route has completely solidified that. He ain’t moving. Ever.

Personal Rambling #1

Okay, now comes the fun part hehehe >:3

With the question “did you enjoy Kyle’s route?”, is there an option for “everything” and also “yes yes yes, holy shit yes”? Because, Kyle’s route is a big fat YES out of 10 for me, and I say that as unbiasedly as possible. I noticed that there didn’t seem to be any dev notes released before Kyle’s route dropped (my poor boi getting shafted :c), so allow me to give you my own variation:

Kyle

Recommended if you like: Yukimura (brusque yet sweet, kind of an idiot but means well) and Mitsunari (oblivious genius)

Sexy…7

Drama…7

Romance…9

Dev Notes: For a man so smart, he’s awfully clueless when it comes to you. This weirdly approachable doctor may lack tact, but that doesn’t stop the blood pressures rising and the hearts racing - both yours and his. Get ready for an angst road bump at part 20 (as well as his Dramatic Ending), but rest assured that the doctor is here to see you now.

When I say he’s a combo of Yuki and Mitsunari, I’m not kidding. He’s basically Yuki without the full-on tsun tendencies (he has a few, but you could call it more embarrassment and awkwardness compared to being a tsundere) and then a touch of Mitsunari’s infuriating obliviousness and bam, you got Kyle!

I won’t give a synopsis of the route, since you’ve all likely read it or know most of the story (why on earth are you reading this far in otherwise?) so allow me to share with you, my personal favourite chapters/parts of his route!

Chapter 7 - the first (and definitely not last) instance of a blushing Kyle in his natural habitat. Bonus for glasses uwu

Chapter 14 - the introduction of Goo, the new best pet in Cradle (sorry Chutney). Legit, I recorded that entire section where Kyle and MC are naming Goo and I was just squeeing like a deranged lunatic because I loved it so much like bdjxbgdkfnxfkd

Chapter 24 (His POV) - DRUNK KYLE POV. Of course, he’s still cognitive to have proper thoughts, it wasn’t Masamune levels of drunkenness. But...jealous Kyle. That right there is a rarity but WOW, it’s a treat ;3

Towards the end of the route when MC finds Kyle’s confession written on his freaking hand (Kyle you doof) and just...him burying his amused smile into the crook of his elbow when she says she likes someone…..HNNNNNGGGGGGG yes

Part 2: Character Development

This man has such strong convictions to his profession that it’s honestly admirable. He may only have one pillar to stand on, but that pillar is strong and immovable. I’m of course talking about this line: “I absolutely despise people who are ready to throw away their lives”. Sound familiar at all? Remind you of...a certain Red King? Honestly though, this commitment to his work as a doctor when he seems to do nothing else except drink himself into a stupor most nights (if not every night) is awe-inspiring, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.

The MC in Kyle’s route is my new favourite. I love how the romance she develops for Kyle starts off as simple admiration, just her wanting to follow in his footsteps and prove useful to people without provoking the war occurring around her. She’s grounded and has a clear purpose, which is refreshing compared to other iterations of her being more meek and more better categorised as a “damsel in distress”. Don’t get me wrong, I”m not criticising those types of MCs. It’s just nice to see a driven MC with a clear goal and a motive for why she wants to do the things she does, enough for her to stay longer than the allotted month (something NONE OF THE OTHER ROUTES DO, HELL YEAH KYLE!). She actively chose to stay in Cradle - even when her ticket home was right in front of her - because she wanted to help Kyle save lives. It’s refreshing. And it makes for some great interactions between her and Kyle, especially later in the route when they’re more comfortable with each other. Which leads me onto my next point…

It felt like a real relationship. The slow growth and blooming of feelings, the cute interactions they’d share (every time Kyle stroked her hair or bopped her on the head, my heart exploded into confetti), and how awkward they both were with each other. God, if you guys could have seen me reading his route with my dumb dopey grin and squeaking like a lovesick children’s toy every 10 seconds...I was a mess gielkdsnglkd.

I love how they let us see into Kyle’s world. It may be a simple outlook on life, but you can’t fault the man. His strong conviction to save as many lives as he can because he feels it’s what he was made to do, and his importance on smiling and presenting a calm, friendly image of himself as he treats his patients (remember the line “People are like mirrors.”. It’s important.). He’s a very “my pace” kind of person, and it was fun to just kind of...relax a bit. Sure, war preparations were happening but wait one moment, please. I need to educate Jonah on what is needed for a balanced nutritious breakfast. It was refreshing to see a route that was surprisingly chill for most of it until the ending crescendo, and I welcomed it.

Alright….angst time. All of the little hints we were getting, like his role of the 7 of Hearts not being “set in stone”, had me squinting at the screen like “boi, what you hiding?”. When we got to drinking with Kyle, Oliver and Blanc and the conversation of Kyle having a brother came up, I was like “....oh. This is gonna be baaad.”. And this wasn’t even including Colin (because when a character gets named, you know they’re important.). But…..Chapter 20. It actually came out of left field, sucker-punched me in the kidney, cracked my heart and left me crying as I’m just reading this whole thing unfolding. Colin’s heartbroken cries, Kyle’s unmoving unresponsive form as he lets Colin punch him, the symbolism and connection of both Kyle and Colin having lost an older brother because of the war. I’m….. ;~; aaaaaa. And then in the Avatar Challenge following the angst, MC throws the “people are like mirrors” line back at him to get him to break down a bit, to let some emotion out, and I was just a blubbering mess at this point. The route is generous enough to give you a floof and mild spice break, but then if you choose the Dramatic Ending…..you…..you visit...his brother’s grave...and the waterworks begin again.

Continuing on from the point above, this means Kyle also has connections with The Day That Went Dark, along with Fenrir and more importantly, Ray. From the way it was described in Kyle’s route, he himself doesn’t know for certain if Ray used magic or not. He only knows that Ray was there when shit went down. So even after his brother passed from the tragedy, Kyle held no animosity or desire for revenge against Ray; very fitting for his character. This route made me realise just how similar Kyle and Ray are: they’re both very determined in their ways to keep the peace and they both hold strong to their views of freedom and honesty (Ray and Kyle respectively). And you can tell that Kyle doesn’t hold it against Ray for whatever happened on The Day That Went Dark.

I would honestly love to see a scenario of the two of them sitting down together in a room and just awkwardly yet honestly expressing all of their pent-up emotions about that whole ordeal (angst writers, if you’re reading this...only if you want to ofc ^w^).

Personal Rambling #2: Gushing Edition

So those were my structured notes, but now let me indulge you on my messy bullet points that I made throughout reading his route. A lot of these are pointless to character building and things I just thought were cute and needed attention drawn to sooo….ye ^w^

Like the rest of the Red Army, Kyle was born into a family that carries the mantle of 7 of hearts. All of them doctors.

Cute theme of beds??? (his bday story and them sleeping in the same room)

“When he wasn’t talking, he’s actually quite attractive.” (wow, r00d)

His palm notes are work and other things related (and he doesn’t always remember why he wrote it down bgrkdgn)

Not a sweet tooth (dammit Kyle, that’s your only downfall :c)

Easily embarrassed despite his earnest and straightforward mannerisms

Doesn’t dote on MC and teaches her what he can

His importance on smiling and presenting a calm, friendly image of himself as he treats his patients (“People are like mirrors.” - ch 8)

Head pats. Lots of head pats

Awkward sweet love (kill me it’s too adorable)

Edgar’s silent envy yet sweet support of their romance (this boi istg…)

Super proactive MC (she’s my new fave, seriously I love her)

Lots of touching (head pats, forehead bonks), he doesn’t know what personal space is (and I love it)

His pig is the cutest thing in the entire world, I need 20

Really good with kids…...yes.

“I absolutely despise people who are ready to throw away their lives” (incredibly strong convictions - doesn’t have many, but the ones he does have he is incredibly dedicated to)

Stays longer than the allotted month (FUCK YES)

His brother’s death strengthened his convictions to be able to handle being an army doctor (direct and honest, no bs about sacrificing your life etc etc)

The “People are like mirrors” line is tearing my fucking heart apart (makes sense in chapter 20 avatar challenge)

The angst…..his brother...and Colin….I’m rdfkgndkjfnxclk ;-;

His realisation of love….and his confession….lord, IM DROWNING IN UWUS

Saving Amon despite him murdering many innocent people, a big decision that could have changed the tide for the future, but he stuck with his beliefs

MC’s insistence that Kyle doesn’t like her that way, and Kyle’s inability to realise it’s love (help me it’s so fucking cute I’m dying)

Whether intentional or not, he’s good at diverting the attention away from him when he wants it off him (maybe MC just assumes he’s an idiot?? lmao)

So his glasses are for sentimental reasons (but does he need them???) and his alcohol drinking habits are from his father (not a coping mechanism)

Incredibly kind...but not good at showing it (helping MC distract herself by giving her work(?))

MC’s obsession with Kyle’s eyes and collarbone (same sis, SAME) and Kyle’s obsession with her hair (fsekfbksfnjweksdgn kd,nAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)

Conclusion

Overall, Kyle’s route is very solid. It may not add much to the overarching lore of Cradle (aside from another victim in The Day That Went Dark), but the route was still adorable, enjoyable and incredibly sweet. I had no moments where I felt bored throughout his route (then again, that’s likely the bias talking) and the balance between cute floof, tear-jerking angst and then hot hot spice (that he FULLY deserves, mind you) came together into a wonderful experience that left my heart full and sad when it all ended.

My final message to you all: Kyle Ash is the sweetest, most adorkable nerd that has ever graced my presence and I hope that even a tiny portion of my love for him rubs off on you, just so you can see how amazing this boi is. Thank you for your time and for listening to my ramblings gesgnsk ^^;;

Bonus: my two favourite screenshots from his route