#straight up felt like a myth i could only dream of until I MADE IT THERE BABY!!!

[wavernot4love]

just hit me like a ton of bricks that thursdayband 4.0 is in less than two weeks oh my

[buzzkillers]

Fables and Parables 1|?

Pairing: Namor x Black!Reader

Summary: During a study abroad trip, you accidentally trigger a long-time tradition through a simple word: amen.

Warning: NON-CON, religious themes, non-consensual voyeurism, magical sex pollen, dream-walking, mentions of abortion, attempted forced pregnancy.

PART TWO

There's only so many words in the English language to describe heat, so you'll keep it simple: Oraxco, Mexico was hell on Earth, survival unlikely.

It was a sun-drenched mugginess.

Something heavy and thick that melted the sunscreen right off your skin and had your phone turning off in self preservation. And the worst part? This was before you left the airport; before you even left the damn terminal.

You didn't know what you expected. Oraxco wasn't particularly known for having Iceland type temperatures but no one said it was like this. Like you were kissing the sun. Like the heat had a mind of it's own.

And by the time you found your classmates, your clothes were drenched in sweat and your bags had gone slick in your palms. Thankfully, you weren't the only one.

Underneath what could only be a sunflare, there were only a handful of you, but your tongue went dry as you tried to greet them all. And you know, maybe you weren't in a city.

Maybe the airplane accidentally dropped you off in a Giants oven. Maybe you were being grilled alive. It was the only explanation really. For Christ sake, you've never felt your skin cook before.

And when your professor finally arrived, with suspiciously dry skin and an easy smile the conversations died easily. You couldn't pretend to be upset. You just let her talk and talk and talk.

Her tone, peppier and upbeat as she postponed going straight to the hotel.

Instead, she wanted to risk heat stroke to visit a nearby holy site. A hidden attraction that not many tourists visit. "It's only a few miles east, you'll thank me later," she insisted, the moment she saw the deadly looks etched onto all our faces. "It'll be fun, I promise"

A bold faced lie you thought as by the time you got there, you couldn't help but think it looked less holy and more—abandoned.

Through the heat exhaustion you took in what could only be described as a tall engraved pillar in a sea of dead grass.

It was made of smooth stone and touched by age and thick green vines that wrapped snugly up the pillars pits and grooves. The arms of the vines climbing up and up until it disappeared atop the statue's crest. Shit, it was so far up, you had to crank your head up to see it.

It was beautiful, daunting and as your professor promised: hidden well. The pillar far enough away from the main road that if you weren't looking for it, it would be easily missed.

Clearly, the stone was old. It had to be the fifteenth century, pre-colonialism maybe? The craftsman ship was intricate as well. Each mark and dig woven into rocks that made a story. No, that wasn’t it. Not a story but instead the never ending tail of a serpent that slithered its way to the top of the pillar.

With artful expertise, the tail formed into a man with a heart in one hand and what could only be an infant in the other. Smaller figures surrounded the serpent, their role vague until your professor spoke.

"—a popular myth dating back to the Mayan period. It's said that if you pray at the feet of his statue, the sea serpent will rise from his throne to come up to pick a concubine,"

"The concubine would go through a heat of sort that would urge her to stay in the land of the serpent god till next full moon, where she'll come back to her homeland gifted with pregnancy and rewards for the town,"

Around you everyone nodded in thinly veiled disinterest.

“You only have to pray, give him a request and the fullment will be your exchange for the child.”

You grimaced, “I pray that this sun would disappear, amen”

You’re met with grunts of agreement. The professor dutifully chose to ignore you; instead her mouth just continued to go on and on and on. By the time it was over, you no longer heard the sounds of cars racing by, the trees had become unnaturally still and you were pretty sure that half of your class was sprawled dead on the grass floor.

She did not have to convince anyone to get back onto the bus. You’re in fact the first in your seat, legs splayed out and your head leaning against the heated window. There was an unnatural silence settled onto the bus. No one wanted to speak and you couldn’t blame them.

Your eyes instead stayed stuck on the trees; on the grass that danced beneath the soft wind. The moon had begun to hang high. Its light washed across the city and leaked through the leaves.

Your thighs shifted in your seat, your hand pressed into your cheek. And then you felt it, something hot and sharp like honey that spiked in your belly. A warm sensation that made you droop in your seat before you blinked and looked at the tree line as the engine roared.

The statue peeked back at you in glances and ripples of the leaves that withered over it. You blinked and for a moment, the leaves flicked away completely; your professor said something, the bus began to move at a snail's pace, but you couldn’t listen, you were transfixed.

Utterly hypnotized at the sight of the serpent tail, concrete and covered in rock as it tightened around the pillar. Before the leaves bristled back into place and the bus left the place behind.

You blinked. The warmth in your belly bloomed. Then with a roll of your shoulders, you pretend you saw nothing at all.

__

A few hours later, or maybe a few minutes, a few days? It didn't matter. But it was at that moment, deep down below, beneath sea currents and molten rock; on a throne covered in bones and melted gold, that a God pricked his ears towards the surface and sighed.

[mythicalmyles]

— req,

i had a dream about this the other day and it's been on my mind every since, so now you get whatever this is (sorry in advance?)

reader has a playful love-hate relationship with one of the creepypastas. always bantering with each other and making inappropriate jokes to one another, trying to get under the others skin. one night though, they both decide to take it to the next level, hands almost always on each other, touching and feeling the other up. they're always very playful with each other so the others don't play much mind to it, but it sends (name) 's mind REELING and wanting for more. later that night after everyone's heading off, he scurries off to his room, slamming the door behind himself and getting in bed, shoving his hand into his pants as he turns and lies on his stomach, the bottom of his shirt in his mouth as he grinds into his hand, the other playing with his nipples. soft moans leave his mouth, whining at the thought to have other's hands on him again, to have anyone on him at this point. he's so needy and hot at this point that the sound of the door opening and closing again doesn't even register in his mind until he feels someone grinding up against his ass as he's grinding into the palm of his hand, bottom half of his shirt in mouth; completely vulnerable and open at this person's mercy.

this has been KILLING me. seriously myth, it's been consuming me whole since i've dreamt of it. honestly not even sure what i want in this one tbh. thigh grinding though 👀 maybe some praise kink cause ive been a good boy lately. ++ not too sure who i want this to be tbh?? masky n helen came to mind but hhhhhbgnfg. go crazy with this one please i BEG. thanks again myth <3 hope you're well btw!!

– 💤 anon

hehe

(Name) sniggered as Masky growled at him, his words pissing him off. (Name) couldn’t deny a part of him got off on pissing off the older male, the fact Masky could easily pick him up and launch him across the room if he really wanted to also spurred on (Name). He knew he was playing with fire at this point but he couldn’t stop. Every insult Masky hurled at him sent his blood coursing and stomach twisting.

“You’re such a cheap little whore.” Masky barged past (Name) as the smallers laugh echoed through the halls, chasing him.

_________

(Name) wrinkled his nose at the sight of Masky, sat laying back on the sofa covered in blood. “I have to clean that.” (Name) growled out at he scowled at the lazing male. “Only thing you’re good for is being a little bitch.” (Name) huffed and barged through the kitchen door to grab some bleach and an old cloth.

He shoved Masky’s feet off the table and began trying to remove the crusted blood from the surface. “You look good on your knees too.” Masky teased, pressing his foot against (Names) back and shoving him against the table. “Hmm, look good like that too.” (Name) flushed and shoved himself up and away, glaring as he left the room. He tried his best to ignore the twinge in his cock, the feeling of Masky’s foot pressing against his back imprinted into his mind.

—————

(Name) wearily gazed at the bottle Masky held out to him, eyes searching him. Masky snorted and shook his head. “Fuckin take it. Sorry.” (Name) nodded and took a drink. “You trying to get me loose?” He chuckled as he gazed into brown eyes. “If i wanted you i would have you bent over that table right now.” Masky’s voice was flat and sounded like a promise, (Name) fought off the disappointment as he began drinking straight from the bottle.

(Name) choked as he pushed the bottle away from his mouth, Masky’s laugh booming in his ears. “Pussy.” (Name) could tell the larger was smirking despited his hazed gaze that swayed as he moved. “Fuck off.” He muttered as he made his way to the couch, flopping down onto it. (Names) mind swirled and he felt himself bounce as Masky threw himself down next to him, so close their legs were pressed together.

(Name) shook off the heat building in his stomach, hands rubbing his arms. “I uh, have stuff to do tomorrow i should sleep.” He mumbled out as he quickly got up and made his way to his room, the bulge in his jeans growing more noticeable.

(Name) wasn’t a big drinker but he’d chugged more then he should have. Part of him hoped it would shake the imagine of Masky bending him over, unfortunately his thoughts just got more creative. (Names) body felt like it was on fire once he finally made it to his door, yanking his jeans down as he barged through the door.

(Name) dropped onto the edge of his bed as his hand slid down his jeans, wrapping around his cock. He whined as he fisted his cock, it didn’t feel like enough this time. He bit his lip as he tried to imagine it was Masky’s hand, he shoved the bottom of his shirt into his mouth, head falling back as his hand began playing with one of his nipples. Desperate whines fell from (Names) lips as he bucked into his hand. A sudden moan left him as he felt someone grind against his ass, eyes widening as he soaked his shirt in drool. “You really are a slut, probably didn’t even need the drink in you.” Masky’s voice was deep and dominant, sending shivers running through (Names) spine.

(Name) let out a surprised noise but before another thought could cross his mind Masky wrapped his arms around his waist, holding (Name) tight as he ground into his ass. Masky's mouth was hot against the back of his neck, shivers running through his body as Masky's hands groped at his body. "M-Masky." (Name) whimpered out, Masky stilling before gripping harder and rutting his hips. “Good boy, just like that.”

Masky’s hand gripped his hair, pulling his head back and quickly attached his lips to (Names) neck. Masky relished in each moan he drew from (Name), hands quickly making their way across his body. (Name) could barley comprehend any thought as Masky’s mouth bit into his neck while grinding his hips into (Name).

(Name) felt like the oxygen had been ripped from his lungs, the searing heat of Masky’s mouth driving him insane. The way Masky’s hands ripped down his bottoms had his mind spinning, Masky’s warm hands spreading his ass. Masky’s thumb rubbed against his hole and whines flew threw his lips, pushing himself back onto the finger. “Please.” (Name) begged in an airy voice, Masky chuckling at his antics.

“Maybe i can fuck that attitude out of you.” (Name) didn’t have to see his face to know he was smirking, (Name) heard a wet pop before Masky slid a finger into him. A choked moan drawing out as (Name) bit his lip and pushed himself against Masky’s finger, the slide of Masky’s digit making him quiver.

“Pl-please.” (Name) begged as Masky began fingering him, quick to slide a second digit into him. “F-fuck, Masky.” (Name) moaned out as Masky began scissoring him and stretching him open.

“Fuck, such a whore.” Masky groaned out, unable to take his eyes off of (Name). Masky impatiently pulled his fingers out, grabbing (Name) and pulling him so he was sat on Masky’s lap. “I need to be in you i cant wait.” Masky mumbled out as he pushed himself into (Names) hole, relishing in the loud moan of pain that left him.

“Such a pretty boy, should’ve done this earlier.” Masky’s voice was airy, the feeling of (Names) tight hole enveloping his cock and driving him mad. (Name) moaned loudly with every bounce on Masky’s cock, the larger males hands helping him. Masky’s hand suddenly slapped against his ass, causing him to yelp as a stinging sensation filled his ass.

“G-god Masky, pleasee.” (Name) drawled out as pleasure filled his mind, the feeling of Masky’s cock slamming into him was delicious. With every slide of Masky’s cock his prostate was hit, leaving him a drooling begging mess.

“Look so pretty stuffed with my cock.” Masky growled out as his thrusts sped up, slamming as deep and quick as he could. “You better not act like this with anyone.” Masky’s voice was possessive, speeding up his thrusts so fast (Name) thought Masky might actually throw his back out.

“P-promise! No one else.” (Name) choked out between moans as pleasure filled every inch of his body, tightening himself around Masky and relishing in his deep moans. “Gonna fill you up pretty boy.” (Names) mind blanked, begging as he ground himself back onto Masky.

(Name) couldn’t think, his orgasm fast approaching. A loud scream was torn from his throat, eyes rolling as he shot cum up his own stomach. Masky growled out as he felt (Name) tighten around him, slamming himself fast and deep as his own orgasm took over his mind. He shot his cum as deep as he could, nails digging into (Names) sides and leaving crescent moons behind.

They both flopped down onto the bed, Masky crushing (Name) for a moment as their sweaty bodies lay there huffing and panting. “We’re doing this again.” Masky murmured as he rolled over, wrapping his sweaty arms around (Name).

[bitimdrake]

Ooh could you debunk the myths regarding Tim’s childhood? I see a lot of Fanon claiming that he was home alone for years and didn’t have anyone to take care of him.

[low budget mythbusters intro here]

Sure thing; I’d love to! It’s been less than a month, so this counts as prompt, right? The fanony picture of Tim’s childhood is built from a couple pieces, so I’m going to go through each of them with as much citation as I can get. For the spoilery preview:

Tim’s parents did travel a lot and leave him behind

Tim’s parents loved him

Tim did not spend a bunch of time alone in a big house with no one looking after him (boarding school!!!!!)

I’m gonna get into a full examination of how well supervised Tim was

And finally some notes on what characterization I think can be pulled from/connected to this!

✓ Tim’s Parents Were Absent & Traveled Regularly

True! Things changed with Jack after Janet died, but before Tim became Robin, these two spent a lot of time out of town, and not much time with their son. Tim references his parents “always traveling” for work in his introductory storyline in Batman #441, and in Robin vol 1 #1 muses: “So many times they traveled the world and left me behind.”

At least by the time Tim is training as Robin, he doesn’t always know where his parents are at any given time (see Batman #444, #445). And, considering that they aren’t in town for the entire period of weeks/months he spends in training, we know they take very long trips. Tim makes this clear in Detective Comics #618, after getting a post card: “‘Or the week after.’ I guess that sums them up! Never know where they’re going to be--or when--or even how long!”

We never get a straight up number for how much time the Drakes spend out of town or if it’s always been at a constant level. But we do know from Robin #100 that they have been traveling at least since “grade school.”

Tim is really hurt by this! In Batman #480 (soon after his mother’s death, just after his father has recovered from his coma) he writes a “letter” to his dad to get his feelings out before burning it, about how it hurt when they traveled, and how his dad doesn’t really know him anymore. “When I was a kid, I used to dream—to pray—that you and mom would stop traveling, forget business and just settle down,” and, “Funny how once you never seemed to care—at least, you never showed me that you did,” and, “I’ve no idea who you think I am, Dad—but I’m not that boy.” To Bruce, he says, “I’ve never felt I was part of a family before.”

Tim ultimately does decide he wants to try with his dad, but they end up fighting in Robin III: Cry of the Huntress #4, with all Tim’s resentment bubbling up:

[panels from Robin iii #4. Jack: “I’ve never been so disappointed in you until now. What’s happened to you? You’re not the son I know.” / Tim: “Who is the son you know, dad? You don’t know me. You never bothered. You shipped me from one boarding school to another and nobody paid any attention as long as my grades stayed high. You and mom were too involved running around the world. Your careers.” / Jack: “Don’t think you can talk to me like that just because I’m in this chair. Just because I’m not like Bruce Wayne...” / Tim: “At least Bruce cares about me. Not just how I reflect on him! You don’t know me! You don’t know a thing about me!”]

I’m actually tentative about including that fight, though, because I feel like a lot of people take it out of the greater context, and also take everything Tim says very literally. Don’t get me wrong--the Drakes absolutely neglected him, and all of his hurt is very valid. But, e.g., that accusation that Jack only cares about how Tim reflects on him is Tim making big declarations in anger, not some grand word of god about Jack’s characterization. (When seeing panels out of context, always keep in mind who is saying what, why, to who, and how they feel in the moment they say it!) Tim’s parents made him feel like they didn’t know or care about him beyond his grades? True, valid, and horrible parenting from them. Tim’s parents actually not caring about him beyond their image? Not so much, but I’ll get to that later.

Tim’s feelings about his parents shift more positive once his dad starts sticking around, and by Robin #100--in-universe, a few years later--Tim is more focused on the good times:

[a panel from Robin #100. Tim's narration reads: “We always walked this way from our condo to the opera, way back when. We almost never used our city place except when we were going to operas, galleries, or downtown stuff like that. Most parents wouldn’t bring the kid along to such tres-haute affairs. I have to admit, when mom and dad weren’t off traveling, they did their best to include me in everything.]

(Things shift enough through Tim’s time as Robin that, full disclosure, I was genuinely surprised to remember some stuff when I went back to research for this post.)

So the Drakes were home to spend time with Tim sometimes. There is, of course, that trip to the circus (Batman #441, Secret Origins 80-Page Giant). Those same issues also have panels with the Drakes at home in the background when Tim is nine and figuring out Batman and Robin’s identities. And that panel from Robin #100 references time spent together at operas and galleries and similar outings.

While we’re at it, the one thing I couldn’t find any hint of whatsoever...was galas. There’s really nothing to indicate that the Drakes were particularly into high society, or had any strong attachment to their “image,” if that note of breaking convention by taking their kid to fancy exhibits is any indication.

✗ Tim’s Parents Didn’t Care About Him

Extremely false! While it doesn’t make their parenting any better, it is made consistently clear that Tim’s parents do love him. It’s kind of their one consistent redeeming quality.

Janet has extremely few appearances, but when Tim thinks of her (or occasionally dreams/hallucinates), she gets a kind portrayal. And in the one real scene we have of her with Tim--the trip to the circus--she’s very warm and motherly, worrying Tim will be overwhelmed, getting a picture with the Graysons to make sure it’s a fun experience, and trying to stop him from seeing the bodies after the Graysons die (see Batman #436, #441).

Jack has a lot more material to go off of, since he was alive for the majority of Tim’s tenure as Robin. After Janet’s death, Jack stays in Gotham, is consistently physically around, and always very worried whenever Tim is or seems to be in danger. (Yes, that’s a low bar for parenting, but he can at least step over it.) Jack has a lot of flaws still--anger that he takes out on Tim, an apparent unwillingness to actually understand his son, a continued reliance on (threats of) boarding school as a solution to troubled behavior--but he does love Tim.

imo: Jack would sacrifice his life to save Tim without any hesitation whatsoever...but he would probably never cancel plans to spend time with Tim.

Jack and Janet love Tim and thoroughly care about his well-being! But they assume he’s largely fine (per Tim’s claims in that first panel, perhaps assuming that as long as his grades are good, all must be swell), don’t give him very much attention, and fail to prioritize him.

✗ Tim Was Constantly Home Alone

False! “But you said his parents were always traveling!” you cry. I did, but the magic words here are boarding school.

In that first panel above, Tim references being shipped from boarding school to boarding school his whole life, and he is actively enrolled in “a boarding school outside Gotham City” (per Batman #441) when he’s first introduced. His early training as Robin was done with Alfred chauffeuring him to and from school on weekends.

Only after Jack wakes up does Tim successfully campaign to be transferred to a local public school, and by that point Jack is consistently at home. Over the 10+ irl years before Jack’s death I can only think of three occasions he traveled without Tim (though I may be missing another one or two), as well as one time he traveled with Tim--a huge change from before Janet’s death. In DCU Holiday Bash #1, Tim and Jack head to the Caribbean for the holidays together. Jack and new girlfriend Dana take a weekend trip to what sounds like a local lake in Robin # (bailing on Tim in the process); Jack goes to an archeological dig before his wedding to Dana in Robin 80-page Special; and he and Dana get stuck at an airport on their way home from an unspecified trip in DCU Holiday Bash #3, failing to get home by Christmas despite their plans.

By those later trips, Tim is old enough to be fine alone for a weekend. I say none of this to diminish the emotional neglect, but just to say there’s no sign of Tim being left to physically fend for himself for too long or at too young an age.

On Supervision

Here’s where I run down all of Tim’s supervision or lack thereof before his father takes a more active role. tl;dr: I’d argue that Tim was almost certainly never just left to fend for himself/physically neglected, but had some talent for occasionally getting around supervision.

The biggest disclaimer is that lbr, all of this early stuff happens the way it does to make it convenient and possible for Tim to be Robin, or there would be no story.

In that Robin #100 panel above, Tim references summer breaks where his parents were in Europe, but it’s such a quick mention that there’s literally nothing to indicate whether he had supervision or of what kind.

(For anyone questioning here how Tim ~snuck into the city to take pictures of Batman and Robin~ constantly....I am sorry to inform you he didn’t. Tim says “I clipped every article I could about Batman and Robin” in LPoD and periodically references that in later stories, but no one ever mentions him sneaking around to take pictures as a kid. The only time he did take pictures of Batman is at the very beginning of LPoD, to get evidence of Batman’s decline to show to Dick.)

In A Lonely Place of Dying, Tim says that his school is on a vacation week and his parents are out of town. During this storyline, Tim is 13, gets into Gotham to take pictures of Batman, and then travels by himself to NYC to find Dick. Possibilities:

Since it’s just a week break, the school is still open and Tim is supposed to be there, but snuck out or convinced the staff he was okay to leave. (i.e., bad supervision from the school and/or cleverness from Tim) [personal headcanon]

The school is closed, but Tim had some kind of caretaker set up--again, who he tricked or skipped out on. (i.e., bad supervision from the caretaker and/or cleverness from Tim)

The school is closed, and no one is watching Tim for the week. (i.e. parents fully dropping the ball) [unlikely, as I will argue below]

Starting in Batman #443, Tim is back at school, but going to the manor on some nights and weekends, driven by Alfred. Possibilities:

Tim is sneaking out of school consistently, and no one notices. (i.e., bad supervision from the school and/or cleverness from Tim)

Tim, Bruce, and/or Alfred have convinced the school this is all chill, but Tim’s parents don’t actually know about it. (i.e., tbh it’s hard to blame the school for being outsmarted by Batman)

Tim’s parents do know and okayed it. (i.e., it’s unclear how responsible this is based on what Tim’s parents know about Bruce) [likely, per next point]

In Detective Comics #618, school is on break again, and Tim is staying at the manor with Alfred and Bruce, while his parents go from Zanzibar to Haiti. By this point, it’s confirmed that Tim’s parents knew about the arrangement, per discussion in Batman #480, which is why I think it’s likely they were aware of Tim spending time with Bruce previously, presumably with some kind of cover story.

Why were they cool with Tim temporarily living with a guy who Jack derides as a playboy (Batman #480)? Idk, man. Plot convenience. Maybe they know Bruce is a decent guy from some past experience. Maybe Tim had a great cover story. It’s never explained.

(If you’re cynical--maybe they really were wildly negligent and just let Tim spend time with some random man they didn’t know. But I think that clashes with the clear love they have for Tim; they neglect him by shipping him off to fancy boarding schools, not by throwing him to the wolves.)

Part of the reason I sincerely doubt that the Drakes would leave Tim without supervision as a kid is this brief moment:

[panels from Robin Annual #1. Jack, being wheeled out to a car, asks, “Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own, Tim?” Tim assures him that he doesn’t have to worry, and tells him to enjoy his weekend at the physio clinic.]

Tim is 13 or 14 here. Jack is going to a clinic for the weekend to help treat the injury that left him paralyzed, and is double-checking that Tim will be okay for the whole weekend. It’s a little moment, but it doesn’t seem to me like it would make sense if Tim had been regularly left alone during school breaks before.

imo: Tim undoubtedly was neglected by his parents, and regularly didn’t even have them around for school breaks, but I just can’t picture them not giving him basic nannies/babysitters/etc to take care of his physical needs.

For Your Consideration: Characterization

A lot of fic that has Tim constantly home alone during his childhood often includes a characterization of Tim as extremely lonely, anxious in social situations, and used to taking care of himself in all ways. As alternate suggestions for y’all, I present various bits of more canon characterization, and how they might tie into the backstory established here:

Tim’s friends from those various schools usually fade away after he transfers to a new school. (Practically, I’m sure this is because new writers taking over the Robin series wanted to pursue their own side characters, but lets treat it as real characterization!) With multiple boarding schools, where he would be around other kids constantly but then leave them for breaks or whenever he transferred, he’s used to relationships being temporary, and enjoys them while they last.

Tim is actually pretty confident and outgoing in social situations, and makes friends at all of the many schools his transfers to during the Robin series--perhaps because he grew up in boarding schools. (Plural!) He’s used to being around a lot of people his age, and being comfortable with a lot of new adults (e.g. boarding school RAs). He’s adaptable to social situations.

Tim regularly fails to stay in consistent contact with his friends and loved ones--partially because he’s very busy with Robin and secrecy, but even with people who know all about Robin (e.g. not talking to Stephanie for multiple weeks while they were dating, and thinking nothing of it). Perhaps a combination of boarding schools and absent parents left him with a slanted impression of how much you’re supposed to talk to the people you care about. Tim’s “low-maintenance” ...and also uncommunicative.

In Batman #441, Tim mentions having nightmares for years after the Graysons’ deaths, but never telling his parents. In Knightfall, where Tim has been left to protect Gotham alongside a new Batman, Jean-Paul Valley, who is quickly going off the rails, Tim declines to tell Bruce about his struggles or JPV’s issues at every turn. Perhaps because he’s used to being responsible for his own mental state--boarding schools have kept Tim clothed and fed, but no one was really around to take care of him emotionally.

...though Tim is still fundamentally a rich kid who was amazed by Dick’s ability to do laundry in Prodigal. He went to boarding schools, and then had a housekeeper once Jack decided to stay in Gotham. Tim takes care of himself emotionally, but he has never washed his own socks.

Tim has really conflicted feelings over his parents/childhood. He’d built up some resentment and pain and anger, but ultimately he really, really loves his parents. He feels horrible every time he and Jack fight. His ultimate dream wouldn’t be ditching his parents for greener pastures, but having his parents be home and loving and attentive.

There’s no indication Tim ever acted out for attention. Instead, he seemed to respond to parental neglect by trying to be as independent and responsible as possible. Low-maintenance! Don’t worry about me! I’m fine!

[nolanell]

At The Museum Headcannons

The awesome @max--phillips made the meme below, and being an History of Art graduate, I wrote some headcannons for it.

For this piece, Oberyn is Modern!Oberyn / Pero is Modern!Pero / Din Djarin is SecurityGuard!Din

Lots of clickable links in this as I have linked to the artists and artworks referenced. Big thank you to @getlostbobby for an amazing idea for Max Phillips!

Dave York: You were surprised at how receptive to the idea he was. You had honestly thought he'd encourage you to go, but without him. And yet here he was, with you. He was looking at the techniques used, marveling over feathery paint strokes Rembrandt used for hair, the dramatic light and shadow of Caravaggio, and the paint application of Courbet. Dave seems to appreciate anything where a noticeable technique has been used, and he is particularly taken with anything that shows off the skill of the painter. He surprises you even further when he starts talking readily about symbolism in art and the conventions he sees in different artworks. As you're leaving, he tells you that he loves 'The Ambassadors' by Holbein and would like to come back as he could stare at it for hours.

Marcus Pike: He was so excited when you asked him to come with you. He'd been wanting to go for ages, but didn't want you to think he was asking you on a date that was 'something he wanted to do' or that he was going and you were there just to tag along. He was genuinely interested in everything that was in the collection, but was equally as interested in what you thought about each piece. He never got annoyed at any of your questions and was eager to have a conversation about art with you. He noted he thought you had an interesting perspective on a lot of the pieces that he hadn't thought of, and he excitedly explained you had given him some insight that had never occurred to him. As you queued up in the gift shop you asked what his favourite piece was, and he laughed and said he couldn't pick just one.

Ezra: He was more than happy to go with you, mainly for your company and in the hope he might find something to captivate his imagination. You and he got a fit of giggles over a nude sculpture and for a good half an hour you had to stifle giggles as you walked around together, seeing more and more of them. You calmed down quicker than he did, but you did find it adorable that he found such joy in something so childish. What did catch you off guard though, was the way he fell in love with the dreamy, hazy Monets. He sank onto one of the benches and just stared at it for what felt to you like an eternity. When you sat next to him, you listened intently to how he spoke of their ethereal, dream-like beauty. He was truly captivated by them and you promised you would let him know if there was ever a special Monet exhibition at the museum. He particularly liked the 'Houses of Parliament' paintings, and was happy to hear they were part of the permanent collection.

Jack Daniels: He giggled with you at the nude figures, but explained he thought the contrast between nudity in art (and how it is highly regarded) and modern censorship of nudity was bizarre. He was then totally hooked on art as social commentary and this dictated how he viewed a lot of the collection. His natural pace around the museum is quite quick, but he was more than happy to go at your pace and stop at anything you wanted to take your time over. He would listen to what you had to say and offer his own opinion. In terms of anything he actually liked, rather than found interesting alone, he mentioned he really liked Van Gogh's 'Wheatfield with Cypresses' series. They felt like home, he said.

Max Lord: He very matter of factly told you he would only come with you if there was a special exhibition he was interested in, and he wouldn't bother with the permanent collection. He was happy to come to the Andy Warhol special exhibition but would only go at his own pace, and was done in an hour. He went straight to the café afterward to wait for you, though did get drunk on the overpriced wine while doing so. You asked what he liked best, and he said 'Triple Elvis' by Andy Warhol, but refused to elaborate.

Oberyn Martell: He loved recreating poses of the pieces you looked at, particularly if it was the dramatic retelling of a myth. He made you join in with him, explaining that it wasn't as fun on his own, and it was the best way to enjoy the storytelling. He did, however, ask you to pose on your own by 'Girl With A Pearl Earring' by Johannes Vermeer, as he felt you could recreate it perfectly, and took a photo on his phone. Overall he prefers visiting the permanent collection as there is so much he wants to look at, and feels he could spend hours upon hours looking at everything on multiple visits. Most of all, he loves sitting in the café with you once you're finished looking around together, discussing what you'd looked at over a bottle of wine. On one visit, he buys a print of 'Judith Slaying Holofernes' by Artemisia Gentileschi as he thinks both art and artist is a strong female piece for his daughters.

Frankie Morales: He was a bit nervous about going with you, thinking you were so much smarter than him, and that it would all go over his head. He was happy to go around with you, asking about what you found interesting and looking at anything you pointed out. However, he was surprised to find that he really liked the pieces that showed everyday people doing normal, day to day things. He was particularly interested in the ones that showed what people did for fun, like 'A Concert' by Lorenzo Costa. He found it really cool that the mouths were painted in a shape that showed it matched what sound they were actually singing, based on the music score in the painting. He was really excited by 'A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte' by Georges Seurat. He loved seeing the dogs in the painting, which is what made him look, but he also loved the 'slice of life' feel to it.

Javier Peña: He agreed without hesitation to come with you, but once he got there, he felt so out of place that he headed straight for the café to wait for you. He insisted you take as long as you wanted and to not worry about him. He didn't get far, though, and pulled you over to 'At the Theatre' by Pierre-Auguste Renoir. He very quietly told you that while he thought you were much more beautiful than the girl in the foreground, he said it reminded him so much of the first time you met. He'd seen you across the crowded entrance to the embassy, and he felt like the face of the man in the background, desperate to meet the beautiful girl across the room.

Comandante Veracruz: He only agreed to come with you because you swore you'd be out before closing time, and because you promised that when you were done, you'd have dinner at the restaurant he'd been eyeing up for weeks. He went straight to the café, mumbling 'before closing' as he went. True to your word, you came to find him with a good couple of hours to spare. He melted a little bit when he saw how happy you were at having spent most of the day surrounded by art, and promised he would come with you again and try and look at some of the exhibits.

Pero Tovar: He only went because you promised you wouldn't mind if he spent the whole time in the café. He said he would wait until he got bored, then you were on your own. You were almost as surprised as he was, though, when he stopped by 'The Battle of San Romano' by Paolo Uccello and was genuinely interested in it. He actually asked you questions about it, and asked why it was so important in how artists approached perspective in painting. He also spent a lot of time looking at 'Whistlejacket' by George Stubbs and marveled at the accuracy. He did eventually go to the café, but was there for much less time than he thought. And he asked you to get him a print of 'Whistlejacket' from the gift shop when you were done.

Max Phillips: You regretted asking him to come as soon as the words left your mouth, but you weren't sure why. You knew he would do something ridiculous, this is Max you were talking about; you just couldn't figure out what. 'Licking a painting' was not on your bingo card of Max shenanigans, but here you were in the museum, staring intently at whatever exhibit was on the other side of the room as Max was escorted out. Once you knew he was gone, you turned around to check where he had been, and had to stifle your laughter. For all the embarrassment, knowing Max was thrown out for licking 'Saturn Devouring His Son' by Francisco Goya was possibly the funniest thing in the world, and you had to hide your laughter for the remainder of the visit.

Din Djarin: You had started talking to the quiet security guard after he apologised for disturbing you. Some guy had tried to lick a Goya in one of the other rooms, and the guard had bumped into you as he led the guy out. As he was apologising, he noticed you were looking at a piece by Kazimir Malevich and made an incredibly insightful comment. It hadn't occurred to you before, and from then on you always made an effort to seek him out when you visited. It turned out he was really into Piet Mondrian and the Constructivist movement, which explained the Malevich comment. He doesn't have a particular favourite piece, rather more interested as the movement as a whole, and how it develops. He takes you by surprise when he is very excited to tell you about an exhibition coming to the museum on astral photography (he later explained he had wanted to apply to work at NASA as a kid). Your heart melts when he shyly asks if you'd be interested in coming with him on his day off.

[hopeamarsu]

Of potions and myths - Chapter 2

William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader

Word count 3,1k

Warnings: This one is pretty mild, but there is tiny amount of angst sprinkled in. Reference to an attempt at drugging ones date (nothing happened!), mythical creatures and potions. This chapter is from WIll’s POV

A/N: I just couldn’t let this one go and it’s turned into a bit of a gremlin to be honest. I have to thank my love Thia @clydesducktape for encouraging me to explore this and Will, the man has honestly swept into my mind from completely left field. Not that I’m complaining! 

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

The morning dawns and as the pale light of the sun hits Will’s car bonnet he stretches out, feeling his spine pop loudly as it protests the long hours sitting in the front seat. Despite the back ache, he does not regret spending the night watching over you. He would never regret it and the feeling both thrills and surprises him.

As he waits for the world to wake up with him, Will’s mind turns back to the previous evening and everything that happened. He’d been out alone, a rarity given how close his pack normally is, and originally had only thought of grabbing a single pint before heading home. But something had drawn him in, made him sit in that corner booth and watch the people milling around him, before his eye set upon you and your date. 

It had looked normal enough, two people talking and seemingly on a date, but he hadn’t been able to look away. Had he felt the mysterious pull even then? Maybe, maybe not. As he watched, you had turned sideways to dig through your bag for something and that’s when it had happened. With shaky but quick hands, the man had produced a tiny vial from his pocket and emptied it into the drink closest to you. 

Anger, white-hot and blazing, surged in his veins immediately and before Will had even fully realised what he was doing, he had walked over and opened his mouth. He had watched with pride as you had confronted the man and then with worry as you hurried out of the pub. He knew he had to follow you, to check that you were alright. 

He turns the memories in his mind, trying to pinpoint the moment when the magnetic connection came into play. He knows it was sudden, the warmth of it all creeping up his back and enveloping him completely as he felt all your emotions jumbling around in the aftermath of your date. 

He knows that in that moment and the ones that followed that he desperately wanted to crush you into his arms, snarl and growl at anyone trying to approach you and rip the throat of the man trying to hurt you. His inner wolf was in full-on attack mode. It had taken every single bit of training Will had gone through to keep the wolf in check. But the connection still persisted and he was powerless to stop what it wanted of him. 

Which leads him here, sitting in a parked car on the sidewalk of your apartment, his wolf alert and ready to jump into action. He doesn’t feel tired or weary at all. There is this need inside of him to be close to you, to protect you. It’s almost desperate at this point, how every nerve ending inside him wants to be close and make sure everything is perfect.

As Will runs his eyes across the street, scanning for anything that might be a threat, the front door opens and you step out. Immediately his eyes snap into your form as you pad across the front yard and into the street, your steps bringing you closer and closer by the second. You look beautiful in your sleepwear and an oversized hoodie wrapped around your body to shield you from the morning chill. You’d look so pretty wearing his hoodie, Will thinks absentmindedly as he tracks your movements. He steps out of his truck just as you reach him.

“Good morning.” 

“Morning. Did you sleep well?” He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s been here all night, Will knows you know. The air around you hums again but it’s more muted than last night and as Will tries to reach out mentally, he finds himself blocked. Your shields are back up, full force, and he hides his approval in a barely-there smirk. 

“Pretty okay. Would you want to come in? I think we have a lot to discuss. I have fresh coffee,” You offer with a small smile. He agrees quickly, the hum between your bodies elated that you invite him in, and follows you inside, hand hovering near your back as you lead the way. When you open your front door, Will is hit with a smell of jasmine, salt, candle wax and thyme and he recognizes the small display next to your door. Protection spells. His pride swells even more as he knows you’ve done this to protect yourself better.  

The second the door closes, the hum ramps up and Will can feel the tendrils from last night appear again, stronger than it was when you were standing outside. He wants to touch you, hold you, bite you, claim you. But he doesn’t make a move, planting his feet firmly into the floor and clenches his fist to keep his hand steady and by his side. It’s not his place yet, you need to talk first. 

Will watches as you close your eyes, taking a moment to ground yourself too, before you open them and look straight at him. He likes it, how forward and confident you are as you do not try to hide or cower away from him. With another small smile, you gesture for him to follow you into the kitchen. It’s difficult to move when everything in him calls for you and your body, but somehow he makes it and as he sits on a kitchen chair and watches you move in your domain, Will finds himself enjoying the view and domesticity of it all. 

It tugs him deep inside, the mere idea that he could get to watch this morning after morning. Is it too fast to hope for these things? Possibly, but for Will, it doesn’t seem to matter as his mind keeps refueling the dreams with mental images of you in his own kitchen, padding around the hardwood floors with bare feet and dressed only in his flannel. 

The flashes move to images of you in his bed, your head on his pillow or chest as the morning light dances on your skin. Evenings spend on the couch, cuddling under a throw blanket and nights in his kitchen when he spoon-feeds you something he’s cooked for a date night. You with his brothers, sitting around a campfire as you trade jokes with them and they with you. 

Will is jostled into the present as you hand him a steaming cup, careful not to touch him in the process much to his approval and dismay, and take a seat opposite him. The first sip of the hot liquid feels like heaven on Will’s tongue, the notes hitting just right and he hums in approval. Keen eyes follow you copying his movements and for a while, it’s silent and comfortable as you sip from your respective cups.

The connection tingles in your sternum and you place the cup on the desk, hands flat on the surface. Your eyes reach for his and Will finds himself entranced by the hue in them. He would love to catalogue the flecks within those orbs. 

“I, uh… I spent some time last night looking into this. Us. The hum and connection.” You stumble a little in your words and there is an urge to hold your hand in comfort but he refrains. This is important, he reminds himself, more important than his carnal desires and his inner wolf huffs in displeasure. 

“I don’t have a lot of books at home, so I’ll need to continue this at the museum later on, but… this seems rare. Really rare. I don’t have a name for it or an explanation yet though and I would need more information from you as well before I, we, can venture deeper. Would it be alright with you? Are you comfortable sharing things with me?”

His immediate reaction is yes, ask what you want and he’ll tell you everything and that stops him in his tracks. This could lead to dangerous territory quite fast. It’s within his training and pack rules that his status, what he is and what he has done in the past are not to be discussed with outsiders.  “What kind of things?” Will asks instead.

“Well… For starters, what type of mythical are you? I know it’s invasive to ask but given that you are with Delta, you are clearly not a mundane. I’m hoping that will give us a clue on where to start looking.” It’s a reasonable question and it does give you both a starting place. Will relaxes his shoulders and releases the breath he’s holding before answering. No point in hiding after all. 

“I’m a werewolf. But I haven’t heard of this type of connection between two wolves before. May I ask, what type are you?” 

“I’m a… I don’t know exactly. I’ve always been interested in potions and history and spells but my family isn’t witches nor do I belong into a coven. I was raised as a mundane. As far as I know, there are no mythicals or supernaturals in my family lineage.”

He hoped the question would be easy for you, to give another clue, but instead it seems to have had an opposite effect as Will watches you drop your smile. You seem conflicted and embarrassed at the confession, hunching your shoulders a little as you shrink into yourself. The connection between tugs at Will’s heartstrings loudly and he’s unable to deny himself or it anymore. He reaches over the table and takes your hand in his, feeling oddly pleased as his hand engulfs yours. 

The second skin meets skin, golden and silver tendrils burst out of your skin and a gasp leaves your lips. You both watch with curiosity as they snake up his arm and under his Henley and under your shirt as well. Will can sense how warm they are, filling him up completely. He tracks their movement based on their warmth as they dance on his skin until they go still but remain tingling when they cover his entire body. He looks at you and sees the lines glow faintly all over your body. You look ethereal to him and he feels himself falling for you even more.

“It feels so warm…” You whisper, awe in your voice as you look at your connected hands. “It does. It’s not hurting you, right?” Will questions, running his thumb across your knuckle. He knows it doesn’t hurt him but he needs to be sure, his wolf poised to take away any discomfort you might feel. For all he knows it’s different for you than it is for him and he can’t help himself, the need to protect is far too strong now that you are touching each other. 

You shake your head, biting your lower lip as you catalogue the feeling. It calms him immediately but at the same time arousal courses in his veins as he witnesses just how alluring your mouth looks. He wants to surge forward, kiss you until your lips are swollen and bruised and your mind is filled with only him. His eyes are honed in on the sight, how the lip disappears and reappears plumper and plumper. He can practically hear his own blood rush in his ears as your eyes track the golden lines in his forearms.  

“Please stop that,” Will is unable to hold in the groan as he watches you chew on the flesh in concentration. “Huh?” Your eyes snap into his face, wide with surprise and you try to tug your hand free, but he only squeezes it tighter. Will knows his eyes have grown darker again as his wolf is howling to be let free. It wants to break free, tug you into its embrace and never let go. 

“Please stop biting your lip. It makes me want to bite it,” He growls and watches with delight as you shiver at his tone. You release your lip but the tender flesh, plush with blood pumping rapidly inside, calls to him. And once again he is unable to deny it, his resolve truly broken when you are this close and a harsh tug at your hand lifts you up from your seat and into his lap. 

You look at him, studying his face as Will raises one hand to your cheek. Another burst of tendrils escape once his calloused hand connects with the soft flesh and he shivers with the sensation. Fascinated, he watches as the small tendrils wrap around his large fingers and bleed into your cheekbones and up your forehead and hairline, creating patterns that make you glow again. 

Will searches for your eyes again before speaking in low tone, your faces close to one another. His eyes drop to your lips and all he can think of is pressing his mouth to them, finally having a taste of what the connection teases him of. 

“Do you want this?” 

Do you want me? 

“You need to say the words, sweetheart, before we go any further.” 

I will not be able to stop once you give me permission. Tell me no and this all stops now. It will break me, but I will honor your wishes.

“Kiss me, Will.” 

Your words have barely left your lips when Will claims them. It feels like something bursts out of his chest as he tastes the coffee, the cherries you must’ve had earlier and something uniquely yours. You taste of heaven and all the good things in the world and he never wants to stop tasting you and identifying the notes hitting his palette just right. He deepens the kiss by running his tongue on your lower lip, begging you to grant him access to nirvana. Once you do, opening up shyly, he feels he’s ready to burst into flames when he gets the first real flavor of you.   

The wolf howls in joy as Will continues to explore your mouth, dipping his tongue inside it to battle with yours. He feels your hand on the back of his neck, tugging at the hair as you pull him closer and closer. The hand that was holding yours releases its hold before pressing against your lower back to push your chests together. He wants you close, closer than you are now and his wolf agrees. The clothes separating your skin from his feel itchy and constricting but Will is grateful because it keeps him somewhat coherent. As much as he wants to, needs you, craves you, he needs to tread carefully and not lose himself. 

All too soon the need for air is too much and you pull back, ending the kiss. “Is this… Umm, is this normal?” You sound winded, out of breath and the wolf preens, happy to have made you like this. Will shakes his head minutely, pressing his forehead into yours. He needs to feel his skin connected to yours, can’t let it slip even for a moment. He traces your neck with one finger, enjoying how you tremble again in his hold. 

“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t felt like this before.”

“Me either. But this feels big.” He nods. 

You breathe in sync for a minute, matching each other as the tingling of the tendrils flickers. Will rubs his thumb on your lower back, lazy circles that make you quiver minutely, a sensation that he eagerly abrobs in his own body. 

“What does this mean?”

“I don’t know, but I want to keep exploring this, us, and this connection.”

“Me too.”

You speak in whispered tones, within your own bubble, even if you are alone together in your apartment. Tentative hands move across the planes and curves of bodies as you trade a few more kisses, each one accompanied by the hum and tendrils that skip from one patch of skin to the other, bathing the room in luminescence.   

Will agrees with your assessment earlier, there needs to be more research into whatever this is. And he knows of only one place to look for answers. “We need to visit the pack elders.” He tells you quietly as you pull away from the latest kiss, still stroking your neck and shoulder in a calming manner. 

“Are they willing to help?” You question softly, knowing how strict some packs are, not allowing any outsiders to enter the area deemed for pack members only. It’s the same for some of the witch covens you’ve tried to approach, hoping to learn more and explore your skills only to be turned away because you are mundane. It has broken some of your spirit, being turned away one too many times, even if you’ve come to terms with it and understand their reasoning. But as the sadness of it all breaks through your shields, Will is almost pushed back by its magnitude.

He wants to take away all the pain you've ever felt, the hurt you feel almost too much for him and his wolf to handle. But he can’t do that, Will reminds himself ruefully, he doesn’t know how. So he gathers you close, placing his hand on your neck as he guides you to rest sideways against his torso, his other hand resting on your hip, offering comfort this way. You breathe in his scent, calming cedarwood and juniper berry tones, and close your eyes to rest for a moment. 

It takes a lot out of you to hold up the shields and they slip whenever your feelings become too much and often they are projected outwards, letting others feel them too. Lack of training and lack of skill, you think but don’t voice it out loud. But you are glad he’s not running from you because of that and burrow in a bit deeper, a pleased sound leaving his chest as Will feels you get closer. He kisses your forehead gently before speaking, the vibration of his chest low and comforting.

“They are. The Miller-Morales pack might not be the biggest out there, but we are tight and welcoming. The elders will help us figure all this out. I promise you.”

*

Of potions and myths taglist: @mylifeisactuallyamess @luxmundee @innerpaperexpertcloud

Everything taglist (I fully understand if you want to skip this one, please let me know and I’ll remove you!) @clydesducktape @wayward-rose @themuseic @miraclesabound @clydesfavoritegirl @a-true-janian-reply  @10blurredsmoke10  @caillea @mariesackler​

[thisisarcanereverie]

Should’ve Known Chapter 14

A/N:  FINAL TIME SKIP. Also we are reaching the point now where there are only maybe 3 chapters left in this series but res assured I will be doing asks and will be writing small side shots to this series. Because I did leave a bunch of detail to the imagination. Also PLEASE INTERACT IT GIVES ME LIFE. Like seriously hearing active feedback on chapters really helps motivate writers like me to write. 

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Wanda or Steve they are owned by Marvel, I don’t own the gif either.

WARNINGS:Angst, Swearing, loss, dark themes, 18 + from here on out. 

WORDS : 3,113

SUMMARY: Months turn into years and now the twins are six years old. Unexpected visitors arrive and things take an unexpected turn. 

In case you missed last chapter

series masterlist

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

Sunlight danced through the crack in the sheer curtains in your shared bedroom and glinted off of the ring on your finger. 

Wanda couldn’t help but stare at you, appreciating every detail of your face, the way your nose twitches occasionally, the sound of soft breathing coming from you, and the rise and fall of your chest as you simply existed in this moment. She thanked every star she could that you existed. You changed her life for the better and she dreads to think of what life would have been like without you and the two beautiful children you gave birth to six years ago. 

You kept her grounded, you and the kids made her feel loved like she hadn’t felt since Pietro was taken from her. 

Wanda would be damned if she let anything take her family away from her again. 

Wanda still had her nightmares, the scars left behind from Vision and from Pietro, her parents, and Agatha were still there. But thanks to you those scars became simply that, scars. Scars that were faded but would forever remain there. 

However, as her old fears started to fade, new fears came to light. 

Some nights she dreams that Agatha had been right, that Wanda only brought chaos and death. She dreams that you and the kids died horrifically like everyone else she had ever loved. 

Other nights she dreams that she is the one who killed you. On those nights you spend hours combing your fingers through her hair and rubbing those familiar comforting circles on her back. Bringing her back to where she was now, that you and the kids were still alive. 

Then there were those special nights when her dreams were sweet and full of love. Sometimes she’s reliving a happy memory with her family before the bombing, sometimes she dreams of Vision and sometimes it’s with two boys that she doesn’t recognize but she knows she loves. However, if she’s really lucky, she dreams of you. Wanda dreams of sitting on the porch with you, sipping steaming tea with honey, grey and white in your hair, but your eyes are as youthful and as full of love as ever. Wanda dreams that her hair is peppered in grey and white as well, wrinkles of time written on her face, and that in the end she had never been what Agatha claimed she was. the Scarlet Witch, the Harbinger of Chaos, the Destroyer of the World. She dreams that all of that was just myth and that in the end all Wanda was, was Wanda Maximoff. 

Your wife. 

Wanda feels the corners of her lips curl upward as she remembers proposing to you. She did it at home, she hid it in the popcorn and you nearly choked on the damn thing. After spitting the ring out Wanda had the worst case of butterflies she ever felt. Wanda knew that marriage was an off subject for you and you weren’t quite sure how you felt about it and Wanda respected that greatly. However, she wanted to let you know that if you ever change your mind, Wanda would gladly marry you whenever you wanted, be it fifty years or an hour. So long as she got to be with you in the end. 

Wanda’s patience with you and the respect that she held for you and vice versa. You didn’t know you could fall even more in love with her. 

You and Wanda had been happily married for three years now and it was safe to say this was the happiest either of you had ever been. 

“Staring’s rude babe.” You muttered under your breath as your lashes fluttered before you fully opened your eyes. Taking in a brand new day in the same old world. 

“Stop being so beautiful in the morning then I’ll stop.” 

“Am I not beautiful any other time in the day?” You teased her. 

“No,” Wanda said before starting to litter your face in soft kisses. 

“You’re gorgeous in the afternoon,” Wanda whispered as she kissed your neck, nipping it slightly causing you to giggle. “You’re exquisite in the evening,” Wanda’s lips trails up your throat, her talented hands wandering as she did, “and you’re downright divine at midnight when the moonlight peaks through our curtains and bathes you in this silvery light.” Wanda’s lips are at the corner of your mouth now, your breathing now becoming hitched as Wanda’s lips are so far yet so close to your lips, “It’s at that time of day that I stare at you the longest.” Finally Wanda’s lips place a gentle but loving kiss on your lips. Her lips on yours never failed to make your heart flutter like it was the first time, fireworks and electricity running through you like wildfire. 

Just as you were about to deepen the kiss you heard the door to your shared room slam open, tearing your lips from Wanda’s to see two small figures rush and jump on your and Wanda’s bed. 

“Good Morning Mama and Mommy!” You heard the excited voices of your twins say. You and Wanda scooted aside to make room for the two already rambunctious twins in between you. 

Steve immediately went to cuddle by your side while Scarlet went to Wanda. Even when the twins were infants they had a preferred parent that they naturally drifted to. For Scarlet it had been Wanda and for Steve it was you. 

You looked at Wanda who looked at Scarlet like she was the world, in fairness she looked like that at Steve and you as well. And instead of scaring you, it felt nice. It warmed your heart to know that Wanda felt the same way, that the people in that room right there were your entire world.

Once the twins settled in between you, you and Wanda kissed the tops of their heads to which Steve giggled as you kissed raspberries on his cheeks.

“What’s on the agenda today little ones?” Wanda asked, Wanda often missed out on most of the day due to training with Strange. She’s gotten very proficient over the years at controlling her powers, Wanda’s learned more about herself and what she could do over the past six years and the more she learned the more frightened and amazed she was. 

“We’re going to go pick raspberries to make jam and pies!” Scarlet said excitedly. 

“Don’t forget,” You chimed in, booping your daughter's nose lightly with your index finger, causing her to giggle her bell like laughter, “that’s only after we finished our classwork today.” 

Steve let out a groan while Scarlet seemed to buzz with excitement. Scarlet loved learning, and Steve did too although not as much as his sister.

You had been homeschooling them, for fear of the worst. You knew that they were young and the likeliness of their powers showing themselves when they were really young were slim. However, you knew that their existence alone would cause a tsunami of reporters and agents ready to probe them. You knew there was a chance that their powers may never come, however until you were certain you and Wanda thought it best to homeschool them. 

It wasn’t bad, you took them to the park for them to play with kids their own age. After all, Nat did teach you the best way of hiding was in plain sight and acting naturally. 

---

You and the kids had just got done with school work for the day when you grabbed three baskets and headed to the raspberry bushes in the garden. Wanda had cast a spell on the bushes to make them grow raspberries anytime in the year. 

You laughed and watched lovingly as the kids ran around the yard playing tag. You counted your blessings that they got along with each other, maybe all the Sokovian whispers to your belly had done something after all. 

You gathered the three baskets of raspberries and brought them back inside. You washed the raspberries at the sink and occasionally checked outside the kitchen window to make sure that they were alright. 

After cleaning the raspberries you fixed them with a snack of apple slices and celery. You went on the porch to call them in when a vision of red, white and blue caught your eye. 

the Shield. 

It brings you back to Steve, his baby blues and his smiles and Tony’s funeral. 

You had heard what happened in New York with the Flagsmashers all those years ago and you would have gotten involved had you not been heavily pregnant at the time. 

You're brought back to the present when the Star Spangled Man with a Plan (now upgraded with wings) asks your twins where their mom was. 

“Sam...” You say, the tall man turned to you and it was then you see that he wasn’t alone. You don’t know how you could have missed the roaring of the motorcycle in the yard and the other tall man. “Bucky....”

The men walked toward you while the twins ran. 

“Mommy! Mommy! There are people here to see you.” They say at the same time, it wasn’t very often that you had company, much less unexpected company. 

“I see that,” You said evenly, keeping your face straight as the two men in front of you widened their eyes in realization. You tear your eyes away from them and to the two children in front of you and you knelt down to their height. “Why don’t you two go inside and play while Mommy talks to these gentlemen for a second.”

“Do you know who they are?” Lettie asked curiously, her eyes scanning the men. 

“Do we get to meet them?” Steve asked excitedly, looking amazed at Bucky’s metal arm. 

“I’ll let you know that in a second, but for right now go inside and play.” You said firmly, the twins waved goodbye to the men before heading inside. You waited until you heard the door close behind them to walk toward the men in front of you. 

“Boys,” You greeted motioning the porch chairs on the other side, “take a seat.”

Sam and Bucky listened and sat down. 

“Do you want a drink?” You asked, arms crossed. 

“Got anything strong?” Bucky asked. His eyes are not meeting yours. 

“It’s Scotland and I am a mom to twins,” You pointed out, “of course I do.” 

“I’ll take that then.” Bucky said, you looked at Sam who simply shook his head. You went in and grabbed the only bottle of Whiskey and a glass. 

By the time you gave Bucky the whiskey they seemed to have processed what they just saw. Sam looked at you with pity and concern, meanwhile Bucky looked off in the distance, anger radiated off of him in waves. 

“Are they Steve’s?” Sam asked. You simply nodded. 

“I only found out a month or so after the funeral,” You revealed, “I didn’t even know I was going to go through with the pregnancy until the events of Westview happened.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“The less people that know the safer they are,” You explained, “I wanted to tell you.”

“But you didn’t” Bucky chimed in, his voice was shaky and his grip on the glass tightened. 

“They’re the children of the former Captain America and Sargent Steel,” You said, “I have to keep the people who know about them tight and few.”

“Who all knows?” Sam asked. 

“Director Fury, Director Rambaue, Pepper, Strange, Wong-”

“Does your husband know?” Bucky interrupted. Sam looked confused before he noticed the subtle wedding ring on your left hand. 

“Holy shit you got married.” Sam said, astonished. 

“Yes I am,” You confirmed feeling slightly awkward since it only took you this long to realize that you never officially came out to them. 

“My wife knows.” You said vaguely, you see both of the men's eyes widen in shock. Sam recovered faster than Bucky who took another drink from his whiskey. 

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Sam asked.

“That would be me.” 

You all turn your heads to your wife, still clad in her Scarlet Witch form. If it wasn’t for the fact that you had company you know your lips would be all over her by now. 

She winks your way and you flush. Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know exactly what you were thinking. 

“Hold up,” Sam said, “You married her?!” 

“Yup.” You confirmed as her form sat down next to you and grasped your hand. 

“How long has this been a thing?” Bucky spoke for the first time in a while. 

“Why do you need to know?” Wanda asked, her hand firmly holding yours. Bucky held his hands up in surrender before taking one last swig from his glass. 

“The bottom line is, only Wanda and the rest know, and I guess now you two do as well.” You said. There was a long pause of silence, before Sam spoke. 

“I won’t say anything.” Sam said finally, before nudging Bucky out of his staring spell. 

“Boys,” You call out as you see that they’re about to leave. 

“I truly am sorry you had to find out this way, but I was only doing what I thought would keep them safe, and now that you know you’re free to visit them anytime.... It would be good for them to finally meet their fathers old friends.” You said. You see Sam and Bucky nod, you reach out for a handshake only to be pulled into a firm hug by Sam. 

“I understand Sarg, you only did what you thought was best.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you returned the hug. Bucky still couldn’t look at you. 

You knew that you had broken his trust and you would work on getting it back. You just hoped that whatever grudges he had against you wouldn’t stop him from forming a bond with the kids. 

After Sam lets you go Bucky surprises you with a hug as well, his beefy arms encasing you firmly. 

“We’ll be visiting again soon.” Bucky promises as he lets you go and shakes goes to shake Wanda’s hand. 

“Wait,” You say as Bucky already is making his way to his motorcycle and Sam prepares for flight. 

“Yeah?” Sam replies. 

“There’s one thing I don’t get,” you said, “what brought you guys here?”

Sam paused for a second before replying. 

“I was just flying overhead, Bucky and I got word that there might’ve been an abandoned HYDRA base here but, turned out to be a faulty tip.” Sam said before saying his final goodbyes as he lifts off into the air and Bucky peels out of the driveway. 

“He was lying.” Wanda says, her eyes giving off a faint red glow. 

“I know.” You say, Sam’s pulse jumped when he spoke about the abandoned HYDRA base. You softly grab her hand and bring it to your lips, planting a small peck to the back of it. 

Wordlessly you walked hand in hand with Wanda through the front doors and continued with the regular evening schedule. 

You and Wanda made dinner as the kids helped set the table and talked about the day. The kids asked questions about who the men were and you and Wanda answered as best as you could without giving them the full truth. Which was surprisingly more difficult. Eventually dinner ended and while Wanda got the kids ready for bed it was your turn for dishes. After dishes were washed and rinsed you let them air dry in the rack and went to tuck in the twins with Wanda. 

Wanda and you kissed their heads goodnight and then proceeded to the couch.

Just as you made your way to the couch you noticed Wanda standing still. 

“Wands, what's wrong?” You asked, reaching out to her. 

“Nothing it’s just,” Wanda started as she played with her hands, “I have a bad feeling, like something is about to happen.”

“Come sit on the couch and talk me through it.” You say as you lead her to the well loved couch. You and Wanda sit and immediately fall into the position you always do, her leaning into you and your arm swung around her shoulders. Wanda had long since transformed out of her Scarlet Witch form but she still looked magical to you. Her fiery locks cascading down her dainty shoulders and just a hint of sparkle on her cheeks remained. You felt Wanda give a deep sigh before speaking. 

“I don’t know what it is, it’s not anything deadly but it fills me with dread just the same.” Wanda said with her green hues giving off a faraway look, “something is about to happen and I don’t know what it is.” 

“Whatever happens,” you say, maneuvering her so that way she faces you, “we’ll face it like we’ve done most things. Together.” You press your forehead to hers and let your eyelids flutter shut and Wanda follows suit. 

“Together.” Wanda whispers back as she finally closes the gap between you in a promise like kiss. 

---

---

---

“Buck don’t do this,” Sam tried to stop the centurion. Over the course of six years the two men had grown close and eventually Sam had earned the privilege of calling the taller man Buck. 

“He has the right to know.” Bucky responded, icy eyes focused solely on the communicator that their mutual friend gave them for ‘universe level threat emergencies only’ 

“We promised her we wouldn’t tell anyone Buck.” 

“No,” the Brooklyn man gruffed, “you promised her you wouldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t promise shit. So don’t worry your pretty little head about breaking your promises.” 

“First off thank you for finally admitting that I’m pretty,” Sam said before attempting to snatch the communicator and failing. “Second off, we should’ve told her the truth from the start. Instead of leaving puzzle pieces to put together.” 

“She had plenty of puzzle pieces. It's not our fault she didn’t put them together.” Bucky said not looking the man in the eye, “He left her a message on the phone and a message in the personal notebook. It’s not ou-” 

“If you’re going to say not our fault again I’m going to slap you.” Sam interrupted. “You know damn well that (Y/n) was as strong as steel, but Nat and Tony’s deaths wore her down, but HE was the breaking point. HE fucked up man, HE has to live with that and THAT’S NOT our job to help him make up for that.” 

Just when Bucky starts to reconsider, the communicator beeped. 

MESSAGE SENT - - - MESSAGE RECEIVED  - - - MESSAGE INBOX (1) 

- ON MY WAY_CSGR

[daggerandrose]

Happy 28th! I’m making this the night before and crossing my fingers that Louis drops something today (a single, a doc, or even a selfie would be a blessing and I would lose my shit). In any case that he doesn’t... have some fics to read!

As always, please leave a kudos/comment on these as I know they fuel writers. Enjoy!

Love, Ever After, 20.7k, by @jacaranda-bloom

One would assume that the charismatic omega in charge of the local matchmaking service would have found a mate and settled down ages ago. His clients, in fact, are always a bit surprised when they come to learn that Louis is still single. But Louis doesn’t mind, not really. His standards are just high; he is happy holding out for his alpha, his soulmate, and chooses to not waste his time with anyone else, despite what his friends might think.

That is, until his best mate from uni drags him out of bed far too early on a Saturday morning after a night of drinking to go to a farmers market, of all places. It’s there that he proceeds to make an utter fool of himself in front of the hottest alpha he has ever laid eyes on. There’s truly no coming back from that, is there?

OR The one where omega Louis makes love matches, alpha Harry makes cheese, and meddling friends might finally make their dreams of finding their soulmate come true.

Like air to the fire I need you to breathe, 4.6k, by CuckooTrooke

"Your nest is very beautiful" Louis says in awe, feeling his chest bubble with love as he watches Harry preen at the compliment.

"You like it?" Harry asks shyly, picking up a lonely sock from the center of his nest and replaces it on the side of his nest. He looks at it thoughtfully until shaking his head at himself, picking up the sock again. Louis watches him at this important task, how the placement of the smallest things in his nest is so important.

"Of course I like it. It's very pretty" Louis praises. Louis was going to do this right. He was going to praise every little effort Harry had made and will still make with his nest, tell him how cozy and well put together it is. And practical, on top of everything. Despite of being situated in Louis’ closet. But it had so many blankets, duvets and pillows that Louis will happily make Harry fall apart in that nest when he goes into heat.

Well. He’ll try.

The thing is, Louis is sort of terrified.

OR

Harry is in preheat and Louis is nervous about his upcoming heat, fearing that he might not be able to fulfill his mate's needs. Lucky for him, Harry knows hot to push the right buttons to get him relaxed.

But If This Ends, 107k, by @absoloutenonsense

Harry’s life as a vampire is routine. He spends his years moving around from place to place, learning as much as he can, and falling in love whenever the universe sees fit. When he tries to move his casual relationship with Louis to something more, it all gets turned on its head. As they navigate confusing thoughts and complex emotions, Harry finds himself torn between the love he feels for Louis and everything he thought he knew.

Counterculture, 6k, by @sadaveniren

It all culminated to this: Harry in the middle of a crowded basement, music blasting from the live show on the far side, shirtless amongst alphas and omegas who all weren’t covering their scents. He took a deep breath of the heavy air and he felt alive.

across city skyline (and straight through my heart), 76.4k, by @halosboat

Louis Tomlinson meets Hollywood Heartthrob, Harry Styles when he walks into Louis' little bakery one day.

Immediately, Louis is charmed by him and Louis thinks Harry might feel the same way, given the fact that Harry has visited the bakery everyday since he'd come to town.

Until one day, Harry walks in with a boyfriend under his arm and a smile on his face.

The one where Louis owns a small bakery that's well known in his town and Harry Styles is an actor who comes to town to film a new movie. Louis is endeared by him, but that doesn’t seem to matter since Harry Styles is already taken.

When The Wolf Comes Out (like a bullet in the dark), 9.8k, by @londonfoginacup

"So Dad was a..." Harry rolls the word around on his tongue, trying it out. "A werewolf?"

"In a sense, you could say that," Anne says. "It's certainly a more correct term than that vampire myth." She looks to Nick. "Grimshaw. Would you please explain exactly what the Madness entails?"

Nick nods. Harry has never been on the receiving end of his business face before, and finds he's more than a little intimidated. “Right, well the first thing you need to know is that, except with freak mutations, the madness only actively infects one individual at a time. Since your grandfather’s death, your father has been dealing with it. Now that he’s gone, it’s presumably moved to you.”

Too Young To Know, 35.4k, by @2tiedships2

Louis blinked awake and quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. This was the second morning in a row he had woken up after dreaming about Harry.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Eric asked as he held Louis tighter in his arms. Louis liked being the little spoon, except for when he’d rather be holding someone else. Which were the past two days.

Or the one where Harry doesn’t present as an alpha… until he does.

This Ain’t Red Wine, 9k, by LetTheMusicMoveYou

It’s not until he gets a whiff of the contents of his glass that Louis realizes his grave mistake.

That’s not red wine.

It’s blood.

It’s probably not the most rational, but his first thought is what people are going to think when they discover his body. On the list of stupidest ways for a human to die, accidentally turning up to a Vampire party has to be pretty high up there.

(Or the one where Human Louis accidentally finds himself at a Vampire only party which actually turns out to maybe not be the worst thing).

don’t want no other shade of blue, 43.2k, by @louisisworthit

“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Louis.

“All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.”

“As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”

no good unless it’s real, 17k, by @fackinglouis

“Here,” Harry says, pulling a strap off his shoulder so he can dig his phone out of his bag. “We can get each other’s numbers.” Louis shakes his head. “I have the practice’s number already,” he tells him. “And my number is definitely on file somewhere.”

Harry pauses, smile quirking a bit as he stares at Louis. The sun is still in his eyes, though, with his sunglasses pushed up onto his head still, so Louis credits his funny face to that.

“I’m trying to give you my number, Louis,” Harry explains around a breathy laugh.

“Oh,” Louis blinks, processing that. He scratches his temple, moves a piece of longer fringe back behind his ear, and then nods. “Okay.”

Or: Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.

shameless self-promo: take my hand, wreck my plans, 38.1k by me!

Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him.

“Mr. H,” he whispers.

The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.”

“Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…”

“Dance?”

Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.”

Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.”

Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

[stargaze-sunflower]

Louie apologizing to Doofus just didn’t sit right with me, and so this fic was born. I hope you like it :D  (Also, spoilers for The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck)

Trigger warnings for a panic attack, and the general trauma that Louie has surrounding Doofus.

Ao3 Link

Louie never slept well. Not really. In his family, good, uninterrupted sleep was basically a myth. Unless you were knocked out or otherwise had the choice taken from you, which of course also happened way too often. Along with things such as nearly being sacrificed, or almost blowing up in space, or watching your brother climb out onto the wing of a plane hundreds of feet in the air—

So, yeah. Nightmares. Almost constantly.

But that wasn’t the problem tonight. Tonight, he just… couldn’t sleep at all. He wasn’t experiencing the heart-pounding, tear-inducing, intense anxiety that came from waking up from a bad dream. What he was feeling was more of an ongoing, steady current of nerves that had his hands lightly shaking and his stomach doing summersaults. A slow, constant, unbearably present dread that spiked whenever he thought of— of what had happened today.

The Karmic Court, or whatever. Uncle Scrooge. Glomgold. Ma Beagle. Magica.

Doofus Drake.

Why was it that whenever there was more than one of Scrooge’s mortal enemies in one place, Louie had to be there? First, there’d been that whole incident when he’d been grounded and literally everyone who hated his family had shown up at the mansion while he’d been there alone, because everyone else had gone off on the only adventure that he’d ever actually been excited about going on, ever. And now there was this; being whisked off to a mystical court room and forced to interact with people who scared him.

And then later, apologizing to the one who scared him the most.

Why had he done it? Why had he stood in front of the person who’d attempted to kidnap him, had tried to kill him, and had repeatedly invaded his personal space without any care for if he wanted it or not— why had he stood there and apologized to him?

He didn’t really know. He had thought that he had to, that maybe it was the right thing, that it was what he was supposed to do to make things right. But it didn’t feel right. He’d felt relieved in the moment, of course, because Doofus had seemed to take it well, and he had left, and that was what really mattered.

But it was still bothering him. Especially now, sitting on his bed in the dark, after vaguely filling in the rest of his family on where they’d been. Not that they’d noticed he was gone what with the pest problem they’d had.

It was just— He just— He couldn’t calm down, no matter how hard he tried. He’d already drank a whole glass of water, and he’d walked to the bathroom and back to try to relieve some nervous energy, but nothing was working. In fact, the more he thought about it, and the more he tried not thinking about it, the worse it got.

Louie was scrolling through his phone, desperate for a distraction but not really comprehending what he was looking at, and it was fine, he was continuing to be just fine, except his hands choose that moment to shake particularly hard, and he dropped the device in his hands. It bounced twice on his bed before clattering to the floor, and Louie jumped a mile even though he’d been expecting the sound.

He sat up in his bed, staring down at his phone on the floor – it was lit up: 2:00 AM – and he couldn’t bring himself to move. His heart was pounding in his chest suddenly, and he was afraid to give it anything else to divert its energy to. He was afraid.

He choked on his next shallow breath, turning the sound into a quiet sob, and he curled his hands into fists, pressing them up against his eyes as he tried to remember how breathing worked. He couldn’t even breathe right. Couldn’t even say sorry without feeling like even that was something he’d done wrong.

One of the beds above him creaked, and if he could get past the sound of his own heartbeat, he could hear blankets shifting around, too. Louie hesitantly let his fists fall back down to his bed, gripping the comforter there instead. He held his breath as he listened for more movement, unsure if he’d accidentally woken one of his brothers up, and he didn’t know if he wanted that to be the case or not. He was just… stuck.

The ladder groaned as someone put their weight on it, and the quiet sound of someone descending sounded dully around the room. There was a pause about halfway down, a short bout of whispering that Louie couldn’t find the presence of mind to make out, and then Huey climbed the rest of the way down the ladder, hugging his pillow to his chest. Seconds later, Dewey swung down from the middle bunk to land at the foot of Louie’s bed.

Louie ducked his head and hunched his shoulders, continuing to stare at his phone on the ground, not blinking for fear of tears escaping. Huey made a soft noise, then leaned down slowly to pick up his phone, checking it over quickly for cracks before handing it gently to Louie, who took it with a trembling hand and slid it into the pocket of his hoodie, which he had put on earlier to try and comfort himself. It hadn’t really worked.

Dewey shifted to sit on his knees, and Louie felt his hand land softly on his ankle. Huey sat down carefully on his other side, and Louie inhaled shakily.

“Louie?” Huey asked quietly, sounding worried. “Are you alright?”

Louie sniffed, counting the seconds between his breaths in order to calm himself enough to give an answer. Huey and Dewey let him take his time, even though the latter was shifting restlessly on his right.

“I don’t— I don’t know,” said Louie, which was a lie. He did know, and the answer was a resounding ‘no, not at all’. But he couldn’t bring himself to say that out loud. That felt like it’d be harder to come back from.

Huey sighed quietly, and Louie felt guilt break its way into the anxiety he was feeling.

“Sorry,” Louie said, tilting his head up enough to meet Huey’s eyes hesitantly. “If I woke you up.”

Huey shook his head and placed a caring hand on his shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize for that, Louie.”

And just hearing those words was enough to bring it all down around him.

Louie buried his face in his hands just in time for a sob to shake his shoulders, and the tears he’d been trying to hold back forced their way out of his tightly shut eyes. His chest hurt, like someone had kicked him straight in the heart, or had reached in and squeezed. His lungs alternated between breathing fast and shallow and forgetting how to even breathe at all.

(‘You don’t need to apologize for that, Louie.’

‘—I’m still sorry, for any pain that I caused you.’)

What had he even ever done to Doofus that warranted an apology? Gone to his stupid birthday party with the intent to con him? So had everyone else there, and then Doofus had almost had him beaten to death. The first time they’d met, he’d kidnapped Louie and had planned to do any number of horrible things to him. And Doofus hadn’t even given him an apology in return, for any of it. He’d just left. What if he expected more from Louie, now that he’d gotten an apology?

“Louie,” Huey’s voice broke through his panicked thoughts, sounding desperate. “Louie, breathe. Breathe with me.”

Huey grabbed Louie’s hand and placed it against his own chest, demonstrating even breaths for Louie to follow, which he tried his best to replicate. Dewey had grabbed his other hand, just to hold it, and it helped to ground him as he concentrated on the rhythm of air going in and out of his tired lungs.

Eventually, he was calmer, resting his head on Dewey’s shoulder as Huey rubbed large circles on his back. He was exhausted, but still didn’t think that he could fall asleep.

“You okay?” Dewey asked him nervously, squeezing the hand he was still holding.

And Louie thought that this time he could tell the truth. They wouldn’t believe anything else, after that whole situation. They knew him too well.

They were his brothers, and that made it a little easier.

“No,” Louie answered, voice hoarse. “I’m not.”

Huey halted rubbing his back in order to put his arm around him and pull into a side hug.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Huey asked.

Louie took a deep, measured breath, and nodded.

“So… you know how I went to court today?” Louie began.

“You mean how you were mystically summoned to a courtroom that seems to have been in a different dimension?” Huey asked, something amused and tired in his voice. “I think I remember, yeah.”

Louie huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well. Doofus Drake was there. He was the prosecutor.”

Huey’s arms tensed around him, and Dewey’s hand was unnaturally still in his.

“Oh,” Dewey said, when it didn’t look like Huey was ready to respond. “That couldn’t have gone well.”

“No, not really,” Louie said. “I mean, it went okay, given the circumstances, but…”

“What did he do?” Huey asked suddenly, a hard edge to his voice. “What happened?”

“Well, uh, you’ve met him. You know how he is,” Louie said vaguely, not yet ready to commit to a full explanation.

“Insane? Creepy? Scares you half to death?” Huey listed.

“Not to mention he has like, no sense of personal space,” Dewey added.

Louie hunched his shoulders a little bit. “Yeah.”

He remembered Doofus getting right in his face while he was sitting in his chair in the ‘courtroom’. He remembered trying to lean away from him as far as he could, and closing his eyes tightly as Doofus pet the side of his face. Uncle Scrooge hadn’t done anything, although he probably wasn’t aware of all the history between him and the other kid. (There was a small, cynical voice in his head that insisted that he didn’t have to be aware to know to interfere.)

And Louie remembered after that, when he’d declared that Scrooge was innocent in the case of Glomgold, when Doofus had come up and— and licked him. And he’d been stuck then, too, cringing away with his eyes shut until his legs caught up with his brain, which was already a million miles away. He’d scrubbed himself viciously with the towel he’d been given, hard enough that a few feathers had come out, and he’d taken a very long shower when he’d gotten home.

“Did he… do anything?” Dewey asked hesitantly, right on cue, and Louie shrugged.

“Got into my face, touched my face, and then later he— he…” Louie trailed off; the confidence he’d started the sentence with had faded. He growled in frustration and shook his head, determined to continue. “He just— he licked me.”

Huey exploded. “He what?!”

Louie jumped, and Dewey pulled him closer, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as Huey got up to pace angrily.

“You good?” Dewey whispered to him, and Louie shrugged.

They watched Huey go back and forth for a while, mumbling to himself under his breath furiously. When he thought that Huey had expended enough energy, he called him back. His older brother sat back down on the bed with a huff.

“I’m fine, now,” Louie said. “Nothing else happened.”

“Nothing else—” Huey began, but cut himself off with a deep breath. “Louie, that was more than enough to be upset about.”

“He’s right, Lou,” Dewey said. “And it would be okay to be upset even if he didn’t do those things. Even if all you had to do was see him. That’s enough, too.”

Louie sighed and nodded, knowing that they were right, but feeling bad about it anyway.

“But that’s not it, is it?” Huey asked suddenly, clearly using his mind-reading powers, now. “There’s something else.”

Oh, yes. The apology. How could he forget.

“After everyone had stated their cases,” Louie began, “and I realized that Uncle Scrooge had done some bad things, I… I knew that I didn’t want Doofus to have this grudge that he’d hold against me for my whole life.”

Huey and Dewey nodded to show that they were following.

“So, I—” Louie huffed when his voice cracked. “I apologized.”

His brothers went still, and Louie ducked his head and waited anxiously for a response.

“You— you apologized?” Huey asked incredulously, and Louie nodded tiredly.

“You apologized?” Dewey repeated.

“Yes, Dewey, I apologized,” Louie said.

“But that’s— That makes no sense!” Dewey exclaimed, seeming genuinely frustrated and confused.

“Yes, thank you. I’ve spent the past few hours freaking out about it,” Louie said, mildly irritated. “It’s just— Uncle Scrooge made all these enemies, and he’d done some things to them that he never apologized for, especially to Magica, so I just thought— I dunno, that it was the right thing to do. Scrooge seemed to think so.”

“Okay, first of all,” Huey began, pinching the bridge of his beak, “your situation with Doofus Drake is different than anything of Uncle Scrooge is dealing with. Secondly, Scrooge is an adult, and you shouldn’t be the one who has to set a good example.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Louie relented.

“And nothing that you feel like you did wrong to Doofus justifies what he did to you,” Huey continued, really getting into it now. “You shouldn’t have had to apologize to him.”

“I know, Huey. Trust me,” Louie said, gently taking Huey’s hand, hoping it could ground them both. “But I can’t exactly take it back.”

Huey sighed, deflating, and Louie laid his head on his shoulder, knowing that Huey hated being overwhelmed by his anger, knowing that he hated being angry in the first place, but that he tolerated it when it was in defense of his family.

“Well, hopefully, he won’t bother you anymore,” Dewey said, something mildly dangerous in his voice, “but if he does, he’ll regret it.”

“He definitely will,” Huey agreed, and then he made eye contact with Louie, looking a little guilty. “We’re never there when you need us to be.”

“We’re gonna change that,” Dewey said, with that level of determination that meant he was never going to give up on it; the tone of voice that meant it was a promise.

Louie cracked a small, genuine smile, feeling lighter than he had since he’d escaped the Karmic Court.

“Thanks,” Louie said, softly.

“No problem,” Dewey said, ruffling his hair playfully. Louie huffed and tried to fix it.

“Do you think you can sleep now?” Huey asked, concern and care in his voice.

The thought of it still made Louie’s stomach twist, even after all this emotional talk and short journey of self-discovery. He shrugged nervously.

“K, we’ll camp here, then,” Dewey said easily, flopping back onto Louie’s bed and making himself comfortable. Louie scowled at him with no real heat, warmth in his heart.

“Sounds good to me,” Huey said, but he was making his way to the ladder. “I’ll be right back.”

Louie and Dewey exchanged curious looks as Huey climbed the creaking ladder. They heard some rustling around and a muffled sound of exertion, and then Huey was on his way back down. When he reached the bottom, he threw the object he was carrying on top of Dewey and Louie, who grunted when the thing was heavier than anticipated.

Huey smiled down at them with his hands on his hips, looking very pleased with himself.

“What the heck, Huey?” Dewey wheezed, and Louie laughed quietly.

“It’s a weighted blanket!” Huey said happily, and he wiggled his way underneath it to lay beside them. “It’ll help!”

Dewey and Louie groaned, but it was all in good fun. The weight of the blanket did seem to help keep him grounded, and with a brother on either side, his eyelids were already growing heavy.

Dewey snuggled up right next to him, and Huey grabbed his hand in a light, easy-to-escape grip. Louie closed his eyes, and fell asleep within minutes.

[yanderecandystore]

How ye are having a good day v3v, I feel like imma you a bunch of oc ideas but ummm you got any siren/shark mermen ocs with a s/o who is a deep sea diver?😳 - Cold Anon

Boo, I'm so sorry for taking this long ;-; shit has been going down at the speed of light, so I haven't been able to focus all that well.

I have written your request a couple of times, but it always felt so… Awful? Like- It didn't read as proper oneshot so I kept re doing it over and over again.

I have two posts about mermaids, yet not exactly an official character. I'm going to make this one without an official one for now as well because I can't really think straight- Sorry Cold.

Shout out to @aka-thethirstyone for giving me ideas and helping me build this up-

TW/Tags: depressed/suicidal reader // failed suicide attempt (drowning/hydrogen poisoning although not very accurate) // victim blaming mentality (coming from the reader) // angst sad boi hours with some softness in the end //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Deep blue sea [Yandere!Shark Merman x Reader - Short Fanfiction]:

You've put yourself in this situation, and even if the consequences may seem unfair, you should know better than to whine about it, you should know about now you don't have the right to complain about something you brought to yourself.

That's what you kept telling yourself, everyday, every hour of each day, and it seems to be a prominent thought even in a moment like this.

Every time you go underwater, you can't help but feel a deep connection with the submerged world around you. So much color and wild beauty that if makes you feel like you might as well not be on Earth anymore, it makes you feel like you're on a different planet.

Like you're in a different realm with wild creatures that hold both beauty and death in them, as marine creatures can be often quite unforgiving to each other, or unwanted visitors.

The alien-like ambience you feel while diving it's probably the most comforting thing in your job, if not the only comforting thing about your whole life.

Just like an old sailor, at sea you feel at home, and at home, you don't feel the same. But in your case, you feel like nothing whenever you come back to your house, and a "home" it's a place you have never really been in, so how can you describe the feeling you get when you're diving deep underwater, as something you never understood?

Who knows, maybe it was just a feeling you got, after all, all your team thinks you're too emotional over the ocean. Some would call you an insane person to be so attached to a body of water.

Yet it doesn't matter what the truth to your case may be, because it's whenever the embrace of said body of water fills your senses it's when you truly feel alive again.

That comforting embrace, as if the immense ocean was truly hugging you and relaxing your muscles.

That comforting, deadly embrace was what felt like home to you. And despite everyone else's warnings, you felt like it was your time to be one with the ocean.

It has been a long, unfortunate ride for you. And as I said before, it's not like you were planning on going back home today.

No, you refused to keep feeling empty at your empty house, going by every single day in your empty life-

It was time for a change. It was time for something different. Some peace for once, something that you wouldn't regret.

Or well, wouldn't be capable of regretting anyway.

Your plan was almost perfect, right? I mean, you were certain your diving team wouldn't notice you suddenly going numb, or even caring enough to help you out. So it was essentially perfect, right?

Yeah, it was unfortunate yet perfect. It brought you despair to think of how perfect your plan was.

But since when was your life easy, [Y/N]? Since when did your plans went your way, you don't really remember having luck-

Even at your final moments, you aren't giving peace that you waited for.

When you dived deep without the proper preparation and your oxygen tank having barely enough to half an hour, you let your body get numb by the water pressure and the narcosis that happened as soon as you dived too deep for your fragile body to handle.

Funny how something that can bring life can also take it away, water surely is probably the most powerful element on Earth. Yet, even if it was sentient, you couldn't be able to beg for the ocean water to fully take you away from this pain, from this emptiness you feel.

The ocean it's as beautiful as it is merciless, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that it would take back your hopes away from you.

While you were unconscious and awaiting your own end, you couldn't possibly be aware of the creature picking your numb floating body.

You couldn't possibly have seen the rest of your diving group looking for you, or the predator carefully observing them, making sure they couldn't see you or him.

When you wake up, you'll feel not only confused after finding out your plan has gone wrong but also finding the immense creature laying on top of you like a pillow.

You didn't feel like fighting, or understanding what the hell was going on, you just noticed that the man on top of you clearly wasn't human and really, really heavy.

Yet you weren't completely awake, you weren't completely fine passing through that whole event, hell, you didn't even realize you weren't inside the ocean anymore, or that you are laying on a completely unfamiliar beach with a creature who is essentially a myth on top of you.

He was sleeping. Dreaming.

Growling. Someone was having a bad dream.

Or maybe a good dream? Throughout your expeditions, you have never really interacted with sharks, only looked at them from afar, so you don't know how to read their behavior.

In a moment of high due to your sudden awakening, you pet his head, getting through his white and grey hair despite the fact that he shouldn't have any hair in his body.

But again, you didn't care, you didn't care for anything, you just wanted to look at the sky and drift once again into your dreamland.

Yet this gentle yet heavy and firm hold he got you on was starting to bother you, but not because you were not enjoying it, no, it was totally the opposite.

You... Missed this. You missed this now that you remember the last time you received any form of comfort from another living being. Even if this terrifying thing could possibly eat you, you felt somehow comfortable being hugged and used as a comfort pillow to someone so big and muscular.

You felt odd, like you were worth something for once.

As if this big predator of the vast seas needed some sort of comfort, and for some reason it chose you to help with his little self-conscious problem.

It felt great knowing that even the someone that is so menacing feels scared or sad from time to time. It makes you feel… Strong, in a sense.

If he can feel vulnerable and openly show it, then I can too, right?

Sigh…. Maybe you were overthinking it, like everything else you ever did. Maybe you should just sleep and see what happens when you wake up-

If. You wake up.

And while you were thinking the worst of yourself and of your captor, the man himself was trying his best to hold the joy, the sorrow, and the pain he felt when seeing you losing your strength while diving.

It doesn't matter if he says anything, what can he say? Nothing he could possibly think about telling you, you'll be able to understand back. The language barrier was just like that. Massive, towering, unbreakable.

It would take a long time to understand one another, considering how you both spoke in different ways. Generally speaking, even your minds seem to be in different places.

You thought about things that he would never be able to comprehend, your self hatred is something he'll never agree with.

Your pain, your sorrow, it doesn't make sense to him, cause up until this day, he only saw the [Y/N] that had fun swimming with the fish and playing with them. Not the one that lives unhappy up on the surface.

How can someone that brings him so much joy can think so little of themselves, is something he'll never understand.

He doesn't know exactly what your true plans are, since in his head, you do these things by accident.

You've been trying this for a couple of times now, and he has either not understood the meaning of it or tried to hide the fact from his own worrying heart.

You did something that would have been pretty stupid especially considering that you were all alone, what if he wasn't there observing you? Would you just- Stop moving completely?

The thought of seeing the cute diver he grown attached to going away from this plan of existence is cruel if not straight up torture.

He just found the one who is bound to be with him for all his life, how else would he feel after discovering something so terrible? The only thing that anyone would feel in his place is fear, is rage, is agony-

Clearly something was going wrong up there, something that made you just-

Decide to float through the ocean forever.

But- But this is oddly the perfect solution to his own problems, now he has a reason and a way to get you to be with him forever now, right?

You seemed to have given up on the human world you live in, and he really wants to be with you so you two can easily be together now. It's an unfortunate event yet also the only opportunity that he has seen as useful to his cause.

Of course, he doesn't understand you, and you surely don't understand him yet, but that is fine because as soon as he wakes up, he'll make sure to do everything in his power to make you feel like the happiest mate of all.

He only hopes you didn't see him sleeping on top of you as a lazy thing for a husband to do, don't worry about him being a bad dad though, he'll make sure to show off everything he has in store for you.

Even if it takes a while to get you accustomed to his mannerism and your now little private island, he knows you're going to love it here with him as your company.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[peakyswritings]

Something pure

Requested by: anonymous.

A/N: okay this took AGES, I’m so sorry for the wait. It also turned out longer than expected, I wanted to give a little background to the request and things got out of hand lmao. I hope you like it⭐️

Summary: Luca had never felt something so pure before, he would do anything to preserve it. Even if it means hiding his feelings from the woman he loves. Little does he know, it’s not enough to keep harm out of your way.

Warnings: mentions of violence, description of signs of physical harm, semi-nudity (no smut)

The gif is not mine, credits to the owner.

You wished you could say you knew what you were getting into when you met Luca Changretta. That you were prepared for what was coming, that you were fully aware of the risks that you were taking by being involved with a mafia man. But you couldn’t.

You were just a small-town girl who moved to New York to seek her fortune, fascinated by the myth of the life in the city, a life that until a couple of months prior you had only dreamed. You had never found yourself close to the underworld, never been in trouble; you lived a quiet life in your family home, spending your days helping your mother or reading some books under the shade of the old tree in your garden, right in front of the swing that your father had hung on the branches when you were a child. Even though you were grateful for the way your parents had raised you, you were looking for something more. You didn’t want to spend your whole life in the dull countryside, so you packed your things and moved to New York, with a suitcase in one hand and your dreams in the other.

You had started working for an Italian tailor who made suits in a basement in Mott Street, Fenacci. You had a bit of experience, you were good at what you did, it wasn’t hard for you to obtain the job.

The first time you met Luca, you didn’t know what he did for a living, what he was capable of.

You were drowning in your work, when you heard the bell on the door ring as a tall man that you had never seen before entered the shop like he owned the place. Your co-worker slightly nudged you to get your attention, leaning towards you with a cautious look on her face.

“Whatever he wants, it’s on the house” she whispered, sitting straight again to get back to work. You nodded, still confused by her strange behaviour. Taking a look around, you noticed that the room had fallen so silent that you could hear a pin drop, everyone was focusing on their work and no one dared to look at the man.

You didn’t understand why no one talked to him or asked him what he needed, nor why he just walked around the shop without asking for the help of the shop assistants. Being a naturally shy girl, it was hard for you to talk to people, so you had to gather up the courage before addressing to him. “Can I help you, sir?”

After your question, almost everyone stopped what they were doing, looking at you like you were gone crazy. You nervously fidgeted with your pencil, wondering what you did wrong.

The man, that was previously looking at some suits with his back to you, slowly turned around, clearly taken aback by the fact that someone had the nerve to talk to him. When his green eyes landed on you, you could see a hint of amusement in them.

“Are you new?” he asked with a thick accent, taking some steps towards your table. You nodded, already feeling your face becoming red with embarrassment.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/n y/l/n”

He stopped in front of you, holding back a smile at the sight of your red cheeks. It didn’t take him long to understand that you had no idea of who he was. Your awkwardness was due to your shyness, not fear. You didn’t lower your head when he walked into the shop and you weren’t afraid of talking to him.

“Thank you for your politeness, miss Y/l/n, but I’m just here to see my uncle”

You stayed silent for a while, looking closely at him. An aura of power and authority surrounded him, he looked strong and self-confident. At the same time, he also seemed polite and good-mannered and you wondered why his presence caused everyone to be so on edge. Before you could say another word, a man appeared from the door behind you, interrupting your brief conversation.

“Your uncle is waiting for you in his office, mr Changretta”

In response, he dismissed him with a gesture, turning to look at you again.

“It was nice meeting you, miss Y/l/n” he said, tipping his hat and walking towards the door that led to Fenacci’s office.

When he closed the door behind him, everyone seemed to relax a bit.

“Is he Fenacci’s nephew?” you asked your co-worker, unable to hold back your curiosity.

“Yes, on his mother’s side” she confirmed, not raising her head from what she was working on.

“So that’s why his suits are on the house”

She giggled at your naive question, shaking her head.

“Oh, sweetheart, everything’s on the house for him”

******

At the end of your shift, you gathered your things and walked out the shop eager to go home, take a hot bath and relax for the rest of the night, worn out from working all day.

You still had to get used to the chaotic streets of New York, they were nothing like the peaceful and quiet countryside. A part of you was fascinated by everything that surrounded you, you had seen more in a week than in your entire life, things that you had only heard of on the radio or read about in the newspaper. On the other side, you had to admit that you were kinda scared, you felt so small and lost in the midst of all of those buildings.

Just a few feet away from the shop, you bumped into someone, too lost in your thoughts to pay attention to where you were going.

“I’m so sorry, I....” you started to apologise, but your voice dropped when you met a pair of familiar green eyes.

“Miss Y/l/n” mr Changretta greeted you, taking off his hat “don’t worry, it’s my bad”

You stayed silent for a moment, your awkwardness was keeping you from uttering a logical sentence. He cleared his throat, thankfully breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Are you done for the day?”

“Yes” you nodded “I’m going home”

“You’re not from here, are you?” he guessed, slightly smiling at you. He had probably noticed that you walked around like a lost puppy, jumping at every loud noise and keeping a careful eye on everything that surrounded you.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked with a hint of irony in your voice, feeling your embarrassment slowly slipping away.

“Just a bit” he chuckled “I can walk you home, if you’d like” he offered.

“Thank you, but I wouldn’t want to bother you, it’s not too far from here” you said. He probably had things to do, maybe he wanted to go home and he was just asking you out of politeness. You couldn’t deny that you wouldn’t have minded some company, though, since it was dark and you didn’t know those streets very well.

“It’s no bother at all” he replied “I can’t have you waking alone at this hour of the night”

You hesitated for a moment. After all, you didn’t know this man and everyone seemed terrified by him, maybe it wasn’t the best idea. However, he had done nothing to scare you away, he had been nice and polite and something told you that he wouldn’t have hurt you. So you accepted.

He came back to the shop the following day and the day after that and all the days after. Sometimes he needed a new suit, sometimes he needed to talk with his uncle, sometimes he just kept you company for a while. Every night, he walked you home after your shift. If he had had a busy day and couldn’t make it to the shop, he made sure to at least be there when you had to go home, so that you didn’t have to walk alone. The days became weeks and the weeks became months. The first week or so, you walked at a certain distance. Then you found yourselves walking a bit closer every day, until he started offering you his arm. You enjoyed those late-night walks with Luca, you felt comfortable around him and it was a new feeling for you. As time passed by, you couldn’t help but notice the way your heart seemed to beat a bit faster when you were close to him, or the way your cheeks flushed every time the two of you casually touched. You tried your best to ignore the way you felt, you were pretty sure that he didn’t feel the same way. He was confident, and handsome, he always knew the right words to say. You were shy, clumsy and hopelessly awkward, certainly not what he was looking for.

Little did you know, the things you were insecure about were the ones that got him falling for you. He loved how easily your cheeks turned red, the way you stumbled over your words, the smile that you often tried to hide. It made you real, genuine. When you felt comfortable enough to open up to him, he fell for you even more. He found himself looking forward to see you, the time he spent with you had become the best part of his day. He couldn’t deny the calmness and comfort that took over him every time you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow, walking side by side with him. Just like you, he had no intention of confessing his feelings for you. You were nice and innocent and he didn’t want to involve you in his dangerous life. Of course, during those months you had learned about what he did and even though you didn’t push him away, he was sure that you didn’t want anything to do with that kind of things. You were just too good for someone as violent and ruthless as him. Too good to be put in danger for his selfish desire. For that reason, walking you home was enough. If it meant to see you smile, to hear you talking about your day, to see the spark in your eyes when you talked about the things you loved, it was enough. It had to be enough, because it seemed to be the only way to have you close to him without dragging you into the rabbit hole with him. You wouldn’t have found Wonderland in there.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to keep you safe.

******

For the first time in months, you were going home alone. Luca had told you the previous day that he had an important meeting to attend to outside the city and that he couldn’t be there that night. You wrapped your coat tighter around your body, the freezing air was penetrating into your bones and you couldn’t feel your hands. It was later than usual, you had stayed in the shop an extra half-hour to help your co-worker clean up the place. The streets seemed emptier and darker, but maybe it was just the absence of the man that had walked with you until that night that made you feel like that.

It didn’t matter how much you tried, you couldn’t shake off the bad feeling that you got since you walked out the shop. There was a little voice in your head telling you to wait for your friend, but you chose to go out alone, eager to get home as soon as possible.

Only you weren’t alone.

When you turned around, you saw three men walking a few feet behind you. You turned again, telling yourself that they weren’t following you, that you were just being paranoid.

But what if they were?

You decided to cross the road, to make sure that they just gave you the wrong impression.

They crossed the road, too.

You took a deep breath. It’s just a coincidence.

You crossed the road again.

They did that, too.

Fear took over you as you started to walk faster, your heart was pounding in your chest, every muscle in your body was tense. Your knees were wobbly and you weren’t sure for how long you could have relied on your legs before they gave up. You couldn’t think straight and you felt like you had completely lost control of your body as it shook uncontrollably.

Then a pair of hands grabbed you.

******

Luca was surprised not to see you at work the following day. His uncle told him that you had called to say you were sick, asking for permission to take a couple of days off. It felt odd to him, you never missed work and you seemed fine the last time he saw you. He couldn’t help but get worried, he knew you didn’t have anyone in New York and he didn’t like the fact that you were alone when you were sick, with no one there with you if things got worse.

He had no idea of how bad it actually was.

The memories of the previous night were a blur, everything happened so fast that you didn’t even know where you got the strength to get up from the dirty ground of the alley and go home.

You took a deep breath, grabbing the closest steady thing for support as you got out of the bathtub, wincing in pain. You wrapped a towel around your shivering body, rubbing your hands up and down to warm up. You hadn’t even realised that the water had turned so cold. You sat on your bed, staring at the floor, the same sentence repeated in your head again and again.

Tell your friend that this is what happens when he doesn’t comply.

These were the words that one of the men said to you, right before leaving you in that dark alley, hurting and bleeding.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when you decided to get up from the bed, probably a lot, since your hair was dry. You wore your underwear and you walked towards the mirror. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You still hadn’t had the courage to look at the state you were in, too scared to see what they did to you. But you had to know. You slowly opened your eyes, looking at your reflection. You started by looking at your face. You had a bruise and a cut on your right cheek and a split lip; then your eyes fell on your body, that surely got it the worst. There were several blue and purple marks scattered all over the upper part of your body, a giant bruise on the left part of your ribs, you had finger marks on your wrists and arms. Your knees were skinned and your legs were full of scratches. Your eyes watered at the sight. Your body would have healed, but you couldn’t say the same for your mind. You were terrified and the scenes kept on repeating themselves in your mind. You felt weak, frail and broken and you hated it.

Your thoughts were interrupted when someone knocked on the door. You quickly put on your robe, cautiously walking towards the door, trying to push back your fear. You opened the door, immediately relaxing when you saw Luca’s familiar face. However, comfort was soon replaced by agitation, you didn’t want him to see you like that. He opened his mouth to talk, but he closed it right after his eyes fell on you. His expression changed, you couldn’t quite decipher the look in his eyes. He gently placed a had under your chin, turning your head slightly to examine your bruise.

“Who did this to you?” he asked after what seemed an eternity, letting his hand fall.

“No one, I just fell” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest and looking away from him. He entered the house, closing the door behind him.

“Tell me the truth” he demanded. His voice was firm, but it didn’t lose the hint of kindness that he only reserved to you. When you didn’t answer, he placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to look you in the eyes.

“Y/n...” he started, stopping when you winced in pain. His eyes moved to the bruise that was poking out of your robe, right under your neck. He hesitated for a moment, before moving his hand to the string of your robe, silently asking you for permission. When you nodded, he untied it, leaving you in your underwear.

He felt anger quickly building up in him as he looked at your body, clenching his jaw. The thought of someone doing that to you unleashed something violent in him, a blind rage that he wasn’t sure he could contain. However, he tried his best to hide it for your sake. You were already scared, you didn’t need to witness one of his outbursts.

“Three men followed me home last night” you admitted, still not looking at him “they told me to tell you that this is what happens when you don’t comply”

Luca should have seen that coming. He didn’t need to admit his feelings to put you in danger, just being in his life made you a target. They observed him, they had been observing him for weeks, waiting for the right moment to make their move. He made a decision and you payed the consequences. That was the reason why he didn’t want to involve you in his life in the first place, because that’s how it worked. It was the biggest unspoken rule of that wicked world: innocent people were punished for someone to achieve what they wanted. You were innocent and they hurt you. You of all people didn’t deserve it. Anger was partly replaced by guilt and remorse, as he covered your body with the robe again, enveloping your trembling frame in his arms. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your head against his chest as he gently stroked your hair.

“I’m sorry” he whispered “I know it means nothing right now, it doesn’t change what happened... but I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you in this mess”

You shook your head, holding him tighter. You didn’t blame him, not even in the slightest.

“It’s not your fault-”

“It is.” he interrupted you “They did this to you to get to me. It’s how it works, they hurt people we love to get to us”

You froze for a moment, trying to understand the meaning of his words. You raised your head, looking him in the eyes in a silent request for an answer.

“I love you, Y/n. I thought that you would be safe if I didn’t tell you, but I was wrong”

He cupped your face with his hands, being careful not to hurt you by touching your bruise. “And I want to protect you, I want to keep you safe.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. After all the pain that you had experienced, it almost felt like a dream, like something that your mind had made up to bring you some comfort. But it wasn’t a dream, Luca was right in front of you, telling you what you had hoped to hear for so long. “I love you, too” you uttered.

He slowly leaned towards you, moving his hands to your waist. He closed the space between you, his lips were soft on yours, he was gentle and his touch was feather-like, almost as if he was afraid you would break if he applied more pressure. You put your hands on his face, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Everything slowly became more urgent, he pulled you even closer while you ran a hand through his hair.

“No harm will come to you ever again” he said once he pulled away, caressing your cheek “I won’t let it. I’ll keep you safe. It’s a promise”

He meant that, he had never been more serious in his life. He never thought that he could feel something so pure and genuine, that someone could bring out the tenderness in him. He would have done anything in his power to protect it, to protect you.

And you believed him, because you had never felt safer.

-

Tag list: @arwyn-the-cyrptic-bisexural @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

august

Summary: August slips away and their summer fling is going to have to end.

Notes: it’s my birthday!! To celebrate here is the august story of my folklore series

AO3

For most people, all roads lead to Rome but for one Kurt Hummel, all roads lead to the mall.

First stop: coffee.

Once Kurt had secured his iced mocha, he began his window shopping. It was just so nice to walk around the air-conditioned mall.

There were plenty of middle and high schoolers wandering around with their friends. Enjoying the freedom of summertime. Kurt was pretty happy to be able to spend his summer days at the mall; almost like a relaxing vacation if it weren’t for the fear of running into old bullies and homophobes.

His dad just wanted Kurt to work a few days a week at the garage when the staff was short but with Finn there full-time, Kurt was barely needed. So, he spent his days off running errands and wandering around the Lima Mall.

There was no way for him to get lost at the mall. One, he had become very familiar with the mall having spent many weekends with his girls from glee club here. And two, it wasn’t a very large place.

Eventually, Kurt decided to splurge by getting a cinnamon pretzel and found a bench to rest. It wasn’t long until a curly-haired boy took a seat at the other end.

Kurt wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say hello or not. They were likely the same age. Close in age and cute. While he was debating whether or not to engage with this boy, he made the first move.

“I’m Blaine.”

He’s now facing Kurt.

“Kurt.”

They smile at each other. Kurt can feel his face getting warm.

“You here alone?” Blaine asks.

“Yeah, you?”

Blaine nods. “Wanna walk together?”

Kurt holds up his half-eaten pretzel.

“Oh,” Blaine says, “that’s okay. I can just…”

Blaine moves to stand up and leave.

“No!”

It comes out louder than intended but it stops Blaine.

“I can walk and eat.”

****

They took road trips together and talked about everything except school. It was so refreshing to have something in common with another human besides McKinley High.

Blaine never said he was from Lima; Kurt suspected he wasn’t since he hadn’t seen him at school. Though, it was possible Blaine went to some private school outside of Lima. At one point, Kurt thought he might have to transfer if the bullying got too intense.

Honestly, it was just nice to have someone who understood him like Blaine did. They had so much in common from singing and acting to taste in Broadway musicals to the same favorite hate-watching shows. The only thing they seemed to disagree on was coffee.

Blaine had a strong opinion about drinking black drip coffee with a dash of cinnamon. Whereas, Kurt always got a nonfat mocha. However, they did agree hot chocolate was the superior wintertime drink to eggnog.

Blaine was willing to compromise in ways Rachel Berry never would.

So, it was no surprise to Kurt when he realized his feelings for Blaine.

Once again, Kurt Hummel was falling for a boy who wouldn’t like him back. This time it would hurt more because Blaine could like him, since he was also gay, but didn’t. Because who could love a boy like Kurt.

****

One day they were sharing a pretzel in Blaine’s car parked behind the mall as they typically did.

“Here,” he says, handing over the last piece.

Mid-chew, Blaine almost caused Kurt to choke.

“Can I kiss you?”

Kurt swallowed.

He must’ve been blushing because his face felt hot. Blaine clearly read the look on Kurt’s face as his answer and leaned forward over the center console.

The first thing Kurt noticed was that Blaine’s lips were dusted with cinnamon sugar. He swept his tongue over Blaine’s bottom lip gathering the flakes before painting Blaine’s tongue with cinnamon.

It was an intense first kiss to say the least. Kurt had always pictured a short peck as his very first but this was better. This kiss was just a few steps away from making out.

As the weeks of summer trickled by, Blaine and Kurt spent their days texting and meeting up to make out behind the mall. They’d climb into the backseat of one of their cars and for the next hour touch any skin available. If summer was good for one thing it was exposed skin.

Blaine often wore tank tops so Kurt became very familiar with the muscle tone of his arms.

Oftentimes, Blaine was the one reaching out first. Kurt found himself waiting by the phone for a text; careful to not have permanent plans in case Blaine called. He’d canceled anything to spend time with Blaine. As far as Kurt knew they only had this summer and now it was August. How many more days would he get with Blaine?

****

One late night in August, they went stargazing. Blaine had spread blankets and pillows on the hillside and managed to secure a cheap bottle of wine courtesy of his older brother. As it turns out, Blaine didn’t know much about constellations; luckily, Kurt did.

He spent loads of nights with his mom in the backyard. She told him so many myths of the sky.

Kurt shared some with Blaine, who had interlaced their fingers. Eventually their bodies were fully pressed together. Blaine was hovering over Kurt, placing kisses along his neck.

Kurt bent his head back to give Blaine more room to cover with his lips.

Then, shirts were riding up and removed. Blaine was playing with Kurt’s zipper.

“Can I?” He asked.

Kurt nodded.

“Are you sure?”

Another nod.

“I’ve never done this before,” Blaine whispers.

“Me neither.”

For two boys who have never had sex and weren’t necessarily prepared to that night, it was always going to be a little sloppy. Misplaced hands, teeth clinking against each other, and nervously checking if something was okay.

When it was over, Kurt pulled a blanket to cover them. Blaine was resting his head in between Kurt’s head and shoulder breathing him in.

“I could fall asleep so easily,” Blaine tells him.

Kurt agreed with him but he was seriously contemplating a different kind of falling.

****

Summer had to come to an end. Before Kurt realized it, he was laying out an outfit for the first day of school. He and Blaine never did have a conversation about what was going to happen to them after summer vacation. In fact, Kurt hadn’t heard from Blaine in a few days.

He texted but went to bed without a reply.

Meanwhile, Blaine was wide awake in his own bed. He stared at the unopened text from Kurt on his phone. He could text back but he didn’t know what to say.

Sorry, I’m moving schools tomorrow.

Sorry, I lied to you all summer.

Sorry, I’m not the person you think I am.

Every single message his brain could conjure up began with an apology.

In the end, Blaine ran out of time to text him back. From a restless sleep to breakfast to rushing to get to his new school on time, he was almost able to believe Kurt hadn’t texted him at all.

As Blaine introduced himself for the first time, his eyes caught sight of people passing the door; stranglers being tardy to their first class of the day. Every person in his peripheral vision made his insides jump. They all looked like Kurt.

Except, Kurt wasn’t here. Kurt could never be here. Whatever he and Blaine had over the summer was just that—a summer thing

Blaine never thought of himself as the type for flings but Kurt was different. He’d take any time he could have with him. If three months was all he had then that was okay. He knew this last summer would stick with him for a long time.

When he closed his eyes, he was staring at Kurt’s blue ones. He could feel Kurt’s fingers dancing along his naked back with the stars watching them.

Luckily, the classes seemed to be taking it easy on the students. Going over the class schedules, future projects, and what percentage of their grade was exams and quizzes. Of course, Blaine played plenty of those ice breakers and get-to-know-you exercises.

He loved those.

By the time lunch rolled around, Blaine even had someone to sit with in the cafeteria. A nice girl named Tina sat near him in history and offered him a spot at her normal table. Blaine had mentioned wanting to join the glee club and she bounced up to him after class.

“New Directions always needs members. Sit with us at lunch and we can give you pointers for your audition.”

He met Mike, Tina’s boyfriend, Quinn, head cheerleader, and Mercedes, second lead female soloist of glee. Rachel Berry soon joined the table and sized Blaine up. She had lots of questions about his range, experience, and if he was a spy. Her boyfriend, Finn, seemed suspicious of Blaine as well. Blaine was familiar with Finn’s concerns.

The pointed glares and scowl were markers of a jealous boyfriend. Finn wasn’t worried about Blaine becoming first male lead, he didn’t want Blaine to pursue a relationship with Rachel.

This was not the first time Blaine was being mistaken for your token straight guy.

The table just kept growing. People pushing tables together and pulling empty seats. A Mohawk boy called Puck was asking Blaine about sports he liked (mainly college football) when two more cheerleaders joined them.

Brittany, the blonde, was intrigued by a new student. She had some record to keep up and asked if he wanted to sneak off somewhere to help her with it. He declined. The other, Santana, was too busy waving to someone in the distance to really notice Blaine at all.

“Porcelain, finally,” Santana says, patting the seat beside her. “Meet New Kid.”

“It’s Blaine actually,” Rachel corrected.

The boy, Porcelain, sat down and looked over at Blaine. Their eyes met and instantly widened.

“I’m Kurt,” he says.

“Hi, Kurt.” Blaine watched the boy of his dreams swallow hard. “Blaine, it’s nice to meet you.”

Lunch continued and no one seemed the wiser. Why would the New Directions assume the New Kid in town had already met their beloved Kurt Hummel? No one's first instinct would be that these two boys shyly watching each other would be “they spent the summer hooking up behind the mall.” Well, technically making out at the mall and hooking up in the park, just that one night.

Blaine tried to participate in conversation so as to not raise suspicion that he was staring at Kurt’s lips, which he was completely guilty of.

Once the glee kids started talking about a disaster of a party Rachel once threw, Blaine is able to tune them out in favor of his summer memories.

Sitting in the dark movie theater and bumping hands with Kurt as they reached for popcorn at the same time. Reaching over, buttered fingers and all, to grab for Kurt’s hand. Being able to catch a glimpse of Kurt’s smile as the movie flashed in front of them.

Lost in his daydream, Blaine didn’t hear the bell ring until Kurt tapped his hand, which was stretched out almost in the middle of the table.

“Hey, time to get to class,” Kurt tells him, “walk with me?”

“Okay.” Blaine gathered his books and trash.

“Where to?” Kurt asks.

“Crafts actually.”

“Oh, that’s just down the hall here.” Kurt guides them through the crowds. “Thanks for not spilling everything to them today.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our summer together.” Kurt’s blushing. “It was special.”

“To me too,” Blaine assures. “I wouldn’t have said anything to them. I don’t really know those guys yet. I’m new remember?”

Kurt nods. “Not new to me though.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Blaine chuckles.

They reach Blaine’s art classroom.

“I’ll see you in glee club,” Kurt says.

“Okay.”

Blaine only lets Kurt take a few steps before he’s touching his hand. “Wait.”

Kurt is staring at their joined hands and examining the hallway before meeting Blaine’s eyes. No one else is paying them any attention.

There are so many words Blaine wants to say to Kurt.

Be with me. Please. Be mine.

Don’t leave. Don’t slip away.

Stay, stay, stay.

Instead, he steps closer to Kurt and cups his face with his other hand. Kurt leans into the touch. Blaine gives the hallway one last look but it’s almost empty. The late bell will ring soon so he can’t waste any more time.

Blaine leans forward and pecks Kurt.

“Please,” he murmurs, against his lips.

Not even sure what he’s asking Kurt for exactly. Kurt seems to know what he means without needing more information or clearer words than a simple ‘please.’

Kurt drops Blaine’s hand and pulls their bodies close together and opens Blaine’s mouth with his tongue.

There’s a bell ringing, which Blaine thinks must be his own form of fireworks.

“If you two are quite done, there’s a class happening,” Blaine’s crafts teacher tells them.

They pull apart instantly, red in the face from being scolded, Kurt hurries off to his own class. Blaine does another round of introductions and can’t remember anyone’s name but Kurt Hummel.

[sserpente]

A/N: Requested by three anons. Enjoy reading, my lovelies! ;-)

Words: 2360 Warnings: pure smut

Additional NSFW warnings: spanking

-

Loki had been distant from you lately. There was nothing wrong with your relationship of course but ever since he had officially joined the Avengers after them fixing what they had messed up after defeating Thanos, he was working nonstop. They were draining him with risky missions, using every ounce of his seidr to their advantage, and while you were happy he was finally included in a way, you knew they did so with the intention of letting him pay for his actions prior to fighting on their side—to “make up” for the troubles he had caused, the pain he had inflicted on humanity and the lives he had taken.

New York, the Chitauri, the sceptre, the mind games… they still failed to realise none of it had truly been Loki’s fault—a circumstance which made your already cool attitude towards the Avengers bitter.

Loki had not been ignoring you, exactly. It seemed, however, now that his relationship with his own brother was finally changing for the better, he had simply forgotten that there was more to him than a mindless soldier saving the planet numerous times; and while Thor was one reason he kept complying with their orders, albeit using his own, if not questionable methods sometimes, the other was of a selfish nature. He would prove to them he was worthy of being called a hero. He would make women squeal for him just to spite them—but most importantly, he would impress you.

Loki would never admit that, of course, he was far too proud. Yet it was no secret how much he enjoyed your generous pampering when he returned from a long mission and bathed him, washing his hair, soaping his body and paying special attention to his manhood, hardening for you as soon as you brought your palms to his naked skin. But that was only when he returned. He still made tender love to you at night, ensuring you could fall asleep sated and satisfied before taking his own release but no longer, so it seemed, would you randomly pounce on each other throughout the day and spend hours eliciting orgasms from one another. You could barely remember the last time he had initiated some sexy roleplay or simply surprised you and tied you up in the living room to have his way with you, forcing climax after climax from your body until you almost fainted into his arms.

Whatever distracted him so much from taking time for himself, for you, it ought to change tonight. Loki was going to slog his guts out if he kept going like this and you were certainly not going to let him do that. An orgasm or two, or a dozen, would pose the perfect distraction.

You had just taken a shower. A long one, not a short one—all a short shower contained was soap, warm water and sometimes washing your hair. A long shower involved shaving, a hair mask, maybe a peeling and in your case, painting your nails in Loki’s colours.

Naked, you tiptoed towards the living room. It was chilly. You had recently turned off the heating now that it was getting warmer, the cool air instantly raising goose bumps on your limbs. Loki was sitting at your desk which you usually used for writing, leaning over a bunch of documents, photographs and briefing packs Fury had provided him with.

Quietly, you stepped in.

“I am missing something… those signatures are of magical origin…” He muttered, chewing on his pen. In another universe, he could have been a sexy professor teaching the Norse Myths. You bit your lower lip. You should definitely bring this fantasy up to him at some point… perhaps he could give you detention if you didn’t know the correct answer to a question…

He didn’t even look up when you entered the room. You pouted at his back, letting out a loud sigh so he would hear you—he was aware of your presence, of course. There was no tricking him.

“Loki?”

“In a moment, my dear.”

Your second sigh was even louder. Briefly, you even considered sitting down on the sofa and spreading your legs to masturbate in front of him. But then, before you could move, he finally looked up, his eyes widening a little as they roamed over your nude body. Loki swallowed thickly, you could see his Adam’s apple bopping. Stirring a little on his chair, he tilted his head, lips parting slightly. He was practically fucking you with his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“I was still hot after taking a shower, so I decided not to put my clothes on just yet. No big deal.” You replied nonchalantly, shrugging in the process.

Loki quirked an eyebrow. “Liar. You are shivering.” Whether it was from the cold or your growing arousal, you could not tell. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.

You shrugged once more. He was smirking by the time you gazed down at him expectantly, hoping he would finally abandon those briefing packs and pounce on you like a hungry wolf. But Loki was not stupid. He knew exactly what you were trying to do—and he decided to play along and make you wait until your own impatience drove you crazy. Besides, he needed to get through all of these documents before noon tomorrow. He would travel to Muspelheim with Thor… and he would not be rested enough if he spent the night fucking the living daylights out of you, even if he desired to do just that and abandon this nerve-wrecking mission altogether.

“Well… whatever makes you comfortable, my dear.”

Damn it. You resisted stomping your foot on the ground like a child. Maybe you should masturbate before his eyes. The idea, so you figured, was unbelievably sexy. But then… an even better one struck you.

Not so long ago, Loki had showed you how speak to him telepathically so you could share your thoughts, fears and words with him whenever you were separated. It worked a little like forcing your mind onto him—all you had to do was focus hard. His seidr took care of the rest. He would be able to tell and form an invisible link between you.

You did not do this often, for most of the time you were together and could verbally communicate anyway. Loki had taught you in case of an emergency—or if you two wanted to tattle about the Avengers in their presence. It connected you on such a deep and subconscious level you had even, unintentionally, begun to share dreams.

You wondered… if that also applied to daydreams. Loki had already turned back to the briefing packs, though you did not miss how he kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye. Well then… sneakily, you sat down on the sofa in a lascivious pose and let your thoughts wander off.

You imagined… falling to your knees for him, looking up at him with innocent eyes as you bite your lower lip and bring your hands to the buttons of his leather trousers. He hisses—a considerable bulge already forming behind the dark fabric.

Immediately, Loki sat up straight. There was a connection then. You held back a mischievous chuckle.

Slowly—painfully so—you pull them all the way down to his ankles, revealing his semi-hard cock to you. It springs to life with joyful anticipation, twitching a little under your greedy gaze. You lick your lips, eager to taste him. You wrap your hand around him then, jerking him for a lazy moment before you lower your lip onto his tip, suckling gently. You couldn’t resist. Your hands are never enough with him. A moan escapes his lips.

Oh, no… a real moan escaped him, still sitting at your desk.

He was already clenching his fists. Oh yes, Trickster, you thought. Two can play this game.

You closed your eyes, letting your daydream unfold freely and wherever it would take you.

You lick over the underside of his entire length, now rock-hard between your fingers. Precum is leaking from his tip. You lap it up with your tongue greedily before pushing him into your mouth, inch by antagonising inch.

A giggle escaped your lips when he broke the pen in his hands. It snapped in two like a piece of wood, spilling blue ink all over the desk. He waved his hand to clean it, breathing heavily as he did and still—he insisted on keeping his gaze on those stupid briefing packs.

Bopping your head up and down his length, you take him as deep as you possibly can and moan, sending vibrations through his cock. He groans in your daydream, throwing his head back. He buries his fingers in your hair, holding it tightly to keep you in place and guide you. Faster and faster, until his hips start bucking forward. Saliva is dripping from your chin, your mouth so full you could barely try and swallow.  He tastes so good…

The real Loki in your shared living room growled. He was facing you now, glaring at you in a downright threatening manner, but this was too good to stop it now. You kept your eyes closed.

Loki comes. He pulls out of your mouth, forcing your head back possessively while his other hand jerked himself fast, spilling his seed all over your face. It lands on your cheeks, your lips and your chin, marking you as his. You moan, tongue darting out to clean yourself up.

Your hand, in real life, sneaked between your legs to bring some relief to your throbbing clit.

That did it. Loki jumped up from your chair so ferociously he knocked it to the ground with a loud bang and strutted over to you fast and determined. The look on his face was all but dark and promising. You opened your mouth to protest, albeit half-heartedly, when he had already lifted you up without any effort whatsoever.

He held you tightly against his side, your body hanging from his arm like a fish on a hook. You only realised your bare backside was quite within his reach and presented to him vulnerably when he landed the first slap, sending a stinging sensation through your skin.

“Ow!” Fuck… so much for spanking. You gulped, biting your lower lip to suppress a moan. “Fuck, Loki!”

“Is this what you wanted, my little pet? To be punished for teasing me like that?” Another slap, landing on the other cheek. This time you couldn’t hold back your moan. Loki was holding back his strength and yet, your arse already felt like your bottom had caught fire. It was burning, tingling and tickling all at the same time. You could practically imagine your skin turning all red from the harsh impact.

“So naughty…” Loki kept spanking you thoroughly but your bottom wasn’t the only thing heating up. You were dripping wet, leaking down your thighs by the time he pulled you up even higher to examine your wet pussy. The sweet pain mixed with the promise of relief almost made you scream.

“Loki, fuck… please!”

“Please what, my dear? My… you are positively soaking. You enjoy it, do you not? You enjoy taking a good thrashing for me?” An animalistic growl escaped his lips.

“P-please… I need you inside me.”

You were unable to see it from your current position but Loki was as hard as a rock. His erection, painfully confined in his leather trousers, was throbbing with need for your tight quim. He was not going to be gentle with you tonight.

Fiercely, he put you on your feet again so fast you felt dizzy, pressed you against the cold wall and held your legs up so you had to wrap it around his hips to not fall straight to the floor. You dug your fingernails into his shoulders when his seidr took care of freeing his member so he could bury himself inside you to the hilt, taking no time for a tender intrusion. You deserved a hard fucking now, if anything for torturing him like that.

Loki’s mouth came crashing down on yours, not leaving you any opportunity to complain—not that you wanted to. Quite on the contrary… arching your back, you took his rough and fast thrusts knocking all air from your lungs, your legs desperately wrapping around him. He would not let you fall and get hurt, you knew that despite his frenzy and yet, this primal and downright animalistic side of him had your entire body melt. You were trembling—arousal and lust rushing through you like a drug. Breaking the kiss and throwing your head back, you came for him, fast and hard.

Clenching around his cock repeatedly, Loki fucked you through your orgasm until your eyes rolled to the back of your head as wave after wave of pure pleasure cursed through your veins, making your blood boil underneath your skin. You screamed his name when he sank his teeth into your neck and bit you as gently as he could muster the moment he could no longer hold back, your climax triggering his own. With but a few more powerful and eager thrusts, he began to twitch and jerk against your still contracting walls and emptied himself inside you, filling you up with his warm seed until it dribbled down your inner thighs. Panting, your head dropped against his shoulder. You were putty in his arms, helpless like a fawn.

“Loki…”

He smiled weakly, still bedazzled by his high. Deeply sated, he took a deep breath and cradled you in his arms, carrying you off to the bedroom. His mission was now forgotten—what was it he had been pondering over again? For the moment, all he could think about was the beautiful woman in his arms, his slowly softening length still resting deep inside of your warm quim.

Are you okay? He was too exhausted for words—and so were you.

I am, you replied in your mind, sighing contently. I’ve missed you.

Loki hummed. I’ve missed you too.

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my  first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would  appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[amazingmsme]

Tender Darkness and a Secret Touch

AN: This is the softest thing I’ve ever written, Geralt loves Jaskier so much. He’s so in love okay he just wants to touch Jaskier and make him happy and be sweet with him. This was longer than I thought it was gonna be, little over 4k, please enjoy this incredibly tender and loving fic.

It started out as an accident. No really. They had pushed their bedrolls together like they always do once it gets cold. At some point in the middle of the night, Geralt woke up to adjust himself, flushing internally as he realized he had been hugging the bard in his sleep. He shifted away, fingers brushing over his side. That's when he heard it: a quick, quiet giggle.

Geralt furrowed his brows at the sound. What on earth had made him laugh in his sleep? It could've been a dream, but it had been all too sudden... He had a theory, and it wasn't too far fetched. He reached out to test it, drumming his fingers over his ribs. The giggle returned, paired with light squirming. In his sleep, Jaskier spoke.

"Hehehey... that tihickles..." Geralt smirked to himself but backed off. They had been traveling all day and Jaskier made sure it be known how exhausted he was. It would be far too cruel to wake him in the middle of the night with such an attack.

He decided he would wait until the right time to exploit this weakness of his. Sometime when he was being just a bit too annoying or was complaining too much. He didn't plan on letting this information go to waste. Only what he didn't expect was how hard it would be for Geralt himself to initiate such a playful interaction. Gods, just the thought of seeing Jaskier flushed and laughing under him sent a wave of heat through his body. He himself was not a playful, teasing man, how would he even go about it? Dig his fingers into his side and watch him with his usual stoic expression? That just felt wrong. But if he let himself smile he knows he'd never stop, and he really didn't need to hear Jaskier's own relentless teasing and compliments about how nice his smile was.

"What's got you all smiley today?"

The question yanked Geralt from his thoughts so fast, he nearly choked on his spit. "What?" Jaskier looks up at him with a smirk.

"That nearly permanent frown of yours was turned up at the corner, an' honestly that's the closest thing to a smile I've seen from you in months," he teased. Geralt rolled his eyes. "So spill."

"Nothing, just imagined you tripping into a stream and ruining that outfit," he easily lied, knowing how worked up he'd get over that. It was one of his favorites after all. A loud gasp ripped itself from his throat.

"You take that back right now! How dare you cast such bad juju on me!" he scolded. What he didn't expect was for Jaskier to reach up and squeeze his knee. His body went stiff and he barely managed to suppress the surprised squeak that wanted to escape.

He could test it now. Could stop Roach right there in the middle of the empty road and pounce. But someone could walk up and see them. He'd rather die than have that happen. He could invite him to take a break and ride Roach in front of him, but that would be far too suspicious. Jaskier would know he was plotting something. Or he could let it slide.

Coward.

As they set up camp, Geralt made sure to push their bedrolls together. He sat close to him all evening, debating whether or not to man up and just do it already. But then it grew late and they were settling in for sleep. He waited until far after Jaskier's breath had evened out. He gently began tracing shapes over Jaskier's stomach, even slipping underneath his shirt once he got bolder.

Jaskier's shoulders bounced with soft giggles. He wiggled slightly, pressing back against Geralt to escape from his hand. That certainly sent blood rushing lower than it should've. He controlled himself and pulled away, dreaming of bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile.

~~~~

Once they reunited in the spring, Geralt made a point to frequent more inns. Jaskier might think it was weird if they continued to push their bedrolls together every night, but if they so happened to be shacked up in a room with only one bed, well they didn't really have a choice now did they? Except for when Jaskier went to order them a nice meal or set up for a performance, Geralt would ask for a room with a single rather than a double. After the first few times, Jaskier made note of it with an almost sly smile. He hoped he didn't catch on. (Or if he did, that he didn't mind.)

Geralt continued to let his hands roam over the sleeping bard's body, listening to the sounds of his sweet chuckles. He found that if he hit a particularly sensitive spot, a snort would mix in with his soft snores. Each noise he'd make was the most beautiful sound to ever grace Geralt's ears.

He settled in first, Jaskier following suit and pressing right up against his body. "Mmm you're warm," he hummed. It was a myth that witcher's couldn't blush, and that comment sent color straight to his cheeks. He was glad Jaskier's eyes were closed. Melitele knows his teasing would only make it worse. Geralt woke up after some time. Jaskier still slept peacefully. Geralt pressed closer, inhaling his sweet scent. He couldn't help but feel guilty doing this. Jaskier was asleep, he didn't know what was going on. He was abusing this information without his knowledge. But he wasn't guilty enough to stop.

Meanwhile, all this time, Jaskier had spent weeks, months even, wondering why he was in such a desperate, needy mood. He craved a certain kind of touch, and it had been years since he'd actually had it. Of all his wants and desires, tickling was the one thing that was impossible for him to admit he craved. He just wanted to feel happy and out of control again. To trust someone enough to let them completely unwind him. And then the dreams started.

Sometimes it would be the loving touch of his mother, cheering him up after a bad day, or a playful fight with an old friend. But mostly he would dream of Geralt. Quite silly, he knew. He would never engage in something so childish, especially if he thought there was any chance at retaliation. Oh well, the dreams would just have to suffice. He began looking forward to going to sleep because it meant he could have Geralt looming over him, hands roaming his body and making him come undone. Sadly, that's all it would ever be. A dream.

Geralt began tapping his sides. He heard the first gentle puff of air and saw the twitch of his lips. This only encouraged him. He moved his hands over his stomach and ribs, blunt nails lightly scratching the skin. His sleepy snickers grew to soft laughter in his slumber. He could feel Jaskier's belly shake under his fingers, and that made him crave a more wild laugh. But he didn't dare give up what he had now.

A finger circled over the quivering tummy, subconsciously closing in on his bellybutton. When it dipped inside, he felt his body jerk as he barked out a quick laugh and a snort, jerking himself awake.

Geralt froze.

The tickling in his dream became too much and he jolted awake, eyes flying open with a laugh. He quickly clamped a hand over his mouth, afraid he might wake Geralt. He'd kill himself if the witcher knew he'd been dreaming about... that. That was strange, even though he was awake he could still feel the tingling after effects on his skin. He looked down, seeing his arms wrapped around him. And how convenient for his hands to be placed where they were...

Geralt decided his best course of action was to play it off like he was twitching in his sleep. His fingers pressed into the soft skin, wiggling and twitching slightly. Jaskier sucked his stomach in with a bubbly laugh, louder than when he's sleeping.

"G-Geheralt?" he asked into the darkness to see if he was awake. When he didn't answer, he tried again, having to suppress a snort. This couldn't actually be happening, could it? The, perhaps unrequited, love of his life was snuggled next to him tickling him in his sleep. He gives a giggly sigh. "M-muhuhust be dreheaming," he whispered to himself. "Luhucky mehehe."

Jaskier's words filled Geralt with immense joy. His tired voice laced with snickers was like a drug, and he couldn't get enough of it. He allowed an eye to peak open a crack, just to watch the way his features scrunched adorably and his body squirmed. Did he mean "lucky me" in the sarcastic sense, or... was he actually enjoying this? Melitele's tits please let it be the latter. And then he felt his hand being moved. He let out a sad sigh that he masked as a soft snore but then he noticed his hand wasn't being moved away... In fact, it was being switched to a different spot.

Jaskier shrugged. "Since I'm already awake..." He slowly trailed Geralt's hand up his side, freezing when he snored a little louder before continuing. He stopped once he reached his underarm. Jaskier felt incredibly giddy and nervous, like he was doing something bad and was about to get caught. The thrill made it all the more exciting. "You don't mind if I borrow this do you?" he quietly asked Geralt's "sleeping" form. The witcher couldn't believe what was happening... Jaskier did like this, basically confirmed it. It was so incredibly hard not to pounce now. He let his fingers twitch and drum against his hollow.

Jaskier tucked his arms behind his head, biting his lip to contain the squeal that begged to escape. His body wiggled slightly and he struggled to remain still. He had to clamp his other hand over his mouth as Geralt's fingers picked up speed, and Jaskier just knew the bastard had to be aware of what he was doing... The thought made him redder than a tomato.

His nails scratched the center of his armpit and Jaskier's arm came crashing down with a loud squeal. He immediately clamped his hands over his mouth. If he pretended to continue sleeping, it would look too suspicious. He sat up on his elbow. "Jaskier? You okay?" Even in the dark, he could see the bard's deep blush.

Jaskier nodded all too quickly. "Mhm! Just, um, bad dream is all," he lied, hoping it was convincing. Geralt looked him up and down with what seemed to be concern. Even in the dark, he could see the witcher's mischievous smirk.

Geralt licked his lips, staring in his eyes. He could hear the man's heart pounding in his chest. "Well... I'm here if you need me," he says. Jaskier's eyes sparkle with such admiration that it makes Geralt want to toss everything to the wind and kiss him right now. But... there was a chance he didn't feel the same way and he couldn't risk losing him for good. Jaskier nods and settles back under the covers, pressing his body closer than before.

~~~~

Jaskier has a theory. He knows what Geralt's like when he's sleeping; he's watched him rest many times to know he's almost always still when he's resting. (It's not creepy he swears! They've been traveling together for years now, he's bound to see the man sleep.) And his hand movements were too calculated, too precise for him to be asleep. He was sure of it. That's why he insisted they stay another night at the inn, to test his theory. That, and to sleep in an actual bed for once. They had started to do it more often, thank the heavens.

He made sure to drink a cup of coffee at dinner to help him stay awake. After a rousing performance, he played up his exhaustion, yawning and stretching quite a few times. Each time he raised his arm above his head, he caught Geralt eying him almost hungrily. Finally, he smirked and purred, "See something you like?" He could've sworn he actually turned pink.

Geralt flushed and looked away with a growl. "Shut it, bard."

Jaskier's smirk grew. "Make me, witcher," he sassed back. Geralt should've pounced right then and there, but what if he actually didn't like it? What if he somehow made him uncomfortable? He'd rather continue his secret teasing not knowing than test it now and risk giving it all up. This was so stupid, he'd never over think this if it were Eskel or Lambert sassing back. He wouldn't think twice about putting them in their place each time they smarted off. Then again, he didn't want to wrap them in his arms and shower them with kisses and rip off their clothes. He figured those feelings might be the source of his hesitation.

When Geralt failed to act, only offering his signature "Hmm," Jaskier sighed. Perhaps he really had been asleep and had no clue about his giggly weakness. He was sure that if he knew, he wouldn't think twice before turning him into an incoherent mess, if only to tease him for it later and hold it over his head each time he acted out.

Or maybe, for whatever reason, he was in it for the long con. Heh, wouldn't that be something. "That's what I thought," he tried to sound smug but it was more of a fed up huff. With another fake yawn, he laid down in the bed and snuggled under the covers. "Whoo, I'm beat. Good night Geralt."

He gave a soft chuckle. "Good night Jaskier... Sweet dreams," he added. He knew he didn't really have a nightmare last night, but he wanted to say it anyway. The quick flutter of the other man's heart was definitely worth it.

Jaskier stuttered, "T-thank you." In all their years traveling together, Geralt had never been this, well, sweet was probably the best word for it, as he had in the past few months. It made him want to swoon.

He settled down and tried to slow his heart enough to hopefully trick Geralt. He was really hoping for a similar event to last night. He thought of boring things, but nothing too boring. He didn't want to actually fall asleep, because he needed to prove something.

Geralt followed suit soon after and climbed under the covers. He wraps an arm around his middle, smiling when he feels Jaskier lean into the touch. 30 minutes pass... An hour. That's funny, his heartbeat is still slightly faster than it usually is when he's asleep... He must be dreaming. He hopes it isn't a real nightmare this time.

He reached up and gently cards through his hair. "So soft," he mutters to himself. His voice is soothing and barely even a whisper.

Jaskier does an excellent job keeping his heart rate in check. The affectionate touch is so unlike how Geralt normally is and he can feel himself falling even deeper for the man.

His hand caresses the back of his head before scratching the nape of his neck with blunt nails. Jaskier's lips can't help but twitch in a sleepy smile. Geralt smiles back and targets the hairline. The spot is surprisingly sensitive and he has to refrain himself from slapping a hand over his mouth to conceal the small snort that leaves him. He hears Geralt's soft snickers. That beautiful bastard.

He traces his fingers over the shell of his ear, and giggles are flowing more freely from Jaskier's lips. His shoulders shake ever so slightly. He's feeling particularly bold tonight and nestles his face in the crook just behind his ear and between the back of his skull. He takes a deep whiff of his scent. Sandalwood and fresh blackberries with a hint of lavender.

Meanwhile Jaskier's trying hard not to lose his mind or blow his cover. Right now he couldn't be more thankful that he was turned away from the man. The growing heat between his legs would've surely given him away and Geralt would've never spoken to him again. His warm breath tickled him lightly and breathy gasps of laughter left his lips.

He began nipping and nibbling the very back of his neck and Jaskier's giggles raised in pitch. His hand fluttered under his chin and scratched maddeningly along his jawline. He kept it up for a few more minutes before stopping as he himself settled in for sleep.

Jaskier couldn't feel more awake.

~~~~

Twice in a row could be a coincidence, but three would make it a pattern. They left the town and set out on the road, traveling as they normally do. Jaskier's mind was reeling from the night before. He could still feel Geralt nuzzling into his neck and he craved more. That night, when he set up camp, Jaskier pressed their bedrolls together. Geralt gave him a strange look but didn't protest. Maybe he was just as excited about going to bed as he was.

After dinner, they laid on their backs and stared at the stars. They pointed to different constellations and shared the stories they've heard about them. When a shooting star streaked across the sky, Jaskier shook his shoulder and pointed up.

"Did you see it? Come on, make a wish!" he closed his eyes and silently asked for the last two nights not to be a fluke. That it would happen again because that would mean Geralt liked it too. And that meant he liked him.

Geralt rolled his eyes but complied. His lids slid shut and he wished that for once emotions came easy to him. That he could let Jaskier know how he felt. They continued their stargazing for a little while longer before settling in for the night.

Jaskier again stayed awake, hoping for a repeat of the last two nights. And again, Geralt continued his secret routine of hearing Jaskier's sweet laughter before he dozed off. Though this time, Geralt starts lower, scratching the backs of his knees. Soft snickers fell from his lips as he curled up. Geralt's hand scratched up the backs of his thighs and Jaskier kicked in his "sleep."

Meanwhile Geralt wore the fondest smile on his face. His hands drew idle shapes over his hip and along his back. Jaskier arched away and squirmed like mad. His fingers tapped out rhythms to songs, his songs. That made him practically melt in his arms. He really had been listening... both hands traced the soft muscle on his stomach and made circles over the soft skin. And then he added that torturously light, incredibly teasing nibbling at the back of his neck and it was just too much to bear. The closeness of it all. The overwhelming fondness he clearly felt but was afraid to share. The touches so light they drove him completely mad and he was begging for a firmer touch that would send him straight to utter insanity.

He couldn't bear it anymore. He needed something more; he needed things like this to happen during the day, when he didn't have to pretend. He needed Geralt to know it was okay and he needed to know how he felt because he was sure he'd explode if he had to endure another night of this incredibly torturous, overwhelmingly tender moment that he couldn't enjoy to its fullest extent. So he finally snapped.

"Fuck Ihihi cahan't do this anymore!" he quietly exclaimed and turned around to face Geralt. Said man looked like a frozen deer. Jaskier thought it was rather adorable. His eyes were wide in shock, mouth slightly agape and his cheeks puffed out in embarrassment. Though his face couldn't exactly blush, his ears would turn red and his normally warm body temperature would rise even more. But he didn't need to blush for Jaskier to know he was incredibly flustered.

Fuck. Geralt was left speechless as Jaskier turned around and snapped at him. He'd blown it: had gone too far and woke Jaskier and upset the other man. He probably thought he was weird and a creep and- wait... I can't do this anymore. What did that mean?

"I'm sorry. I thought you were asleep," he managed to choke out but didn't meet Jaskier's gaze. He rolled his eyes and gave a small, amused huff.

"Yeah, I figured as much. But it's okay, really, you don't have to only do this when you think I'm asleep," he assured softly.

Geralt nodded, still unable to look directly at him. "So uh, how long have you known?" he dared to ask. Jaskier shrugged.

"Just the three nights, including tonight. Wait- how long have you been doing this?" he asked, furrowing his brow. Geralt muttered something, barely audible. "Speak up dear, we don't all have witcher hearing," he teased lightly.

Geralt turned away so he didn't have to look at him. "Few months." Now it was Jaskier's turn to gawk, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

"A few months?" he asked incredulously. Geralt curled in on himself. He'd gone too far, he knew he should've never done this, should've just let him be. But he was selfish and secretly needy.

No wonder Jaskier had been having those teasing dreams! It was all Geralt. "You're telling me that you made me suffer for months dreaming of you turning me into an incoherent mess while I could've had the real thing?" he asked before he could think better of it and promptly snapped his mouth shut. Geralt turned back around at those words, curious and hopeful.

While Geralt wasn't capable of blushing, Jaskier was not so lucky. His cheeks glowed bright red, even in the dark. Now it was his turn to look away. Geralt let his lips quirk up in a tiny smile. "So... you're not mad?"

Jaskier scoffed and crossed his arms. "I'm a little fed up that you thought you could only do this in my sleep, but no. I'm not mad," he said, and a soft smile of his own found his face. "What I want to know is why. I mean, I tried to make it clear that it was okay for you to, y'know, be affectionate if you so wished. Clapping my shoulder, holding my hand, touching my hair, I never once shied away from your touch. I thought I was doing a rather fine job domesticating you-" Geralt scoffed and Jaskier glared playfully.

"I'm not domesticated," he said. Jaskier chuckled.

"Believe me, I know. But, I liked to think you were warming up to me, that you would just do something if you felt like it. And I mean, I know I can be a handful and you could've very easily put me in my place with that knowledge. Most people wouldn't think twice before using that to their advantage. So why didn't you?" he asked gently.

Geralt grunted as he thought of a sufficient answer. "I found out one night by accident. You told me in your sleep after I pressed against your side. I thought about doing it, but it just. It never seemed like the right time to test it. I'm not really... playful or funny, I guess. I wasn't too sure how to go about it," he admits. Jaskier scooted closer, eyes glistening in the pale moonlight streaming in through the trees.

"But something made you continue. What was it?"

Geralt tilted his head down, as if to hide. "I'm not sure. You just seemed so happy. And I liked that I was the one making you happy. You just seemed so peaceful when you were sleeping, and then you'd smile and uh, you have a nice laugh."

Jaskier's heart was fluttering, and he was sure Geralt could hear it. "Geralt? Do you... like me?" He looked at him.

"Of course I do."

"No I mean, do you like like me?" he asked nervously, biting his lip and trying not to sound too hopeful, too desperate.

Geralt nodded after a moment of tense silence, giving a gentle hum. His lips quirked in a slightly teasing smile. "I suppose I do. Do you... like like me?"

Jaskier couldn't help but giggle at his adorable awkwardness. "I've only been following you across the continent for years and years. What do you think?"

"So that's a yes?" Jaskier tilted his head back with a bright laugh and nodded.

"Good." He hugged him close and they settled under the covers. A beat, and then realization dawned on Geralt. "Wait, so when you said I made you suffer for months without the real thing, does that mean you like it?"

Jaskier went stiff and his blush deepened. "No comment." Geralt's smile widened.

"I think it does."

"Shut uuuuup!" Jaskier whined and playfully smacked him.

Geralt chuckled deeply. The sound sent a pleasant chill up Jaskier's spine. "I'll take that as a yes. It's too late for us to make a ruckus, but you should know that I plan to test the extent of my knowledge tomorrow."

Jaskier was already giggling and squirming away. "C-can't wait."

[sweetchup]

Not A Chance!!

Type: Shalnark x reader

Prompt: O’Inari’s Wisdom — On any day during this week, people of the ages of 19-30 years old will go through a walk in the woods carrying a clear ornament (Traditionally it used to be a Jar). The ornament is usually filled with the person’s favorite scent or perfume, Name and Phone number on paper slip, and their dream type of lover on a rose petal. When walking through the woods, the person allows the God/Goddess of the woods O’inari’s Imps to trick them into meeting their soulmate. It is a must to switch ornaments with that first person they see for it is said the imps won’t allow them to leave the forest unless they do so.

Author Note: I decided to try a different writing style with the kiss scene this time. Tell me what you guys think.

(Prompts/Rules) (Masterlist)

“Hey (y/n), Bisky, What’s this?” Gon asks. His voice was hardly heard over the many chattering of the NPCS and other players in the city as you looked at him. Gon first shows Bisky, who was closer to him, a baby blue flier that you couldn’t quite read from where you were standing. “Is it some sort of Greed Island event?”

“Wait a minute. Gon do you not know what O’inari’s wisdom is?” Bisky questions, shocked. Walking over closer and looking from behind Bisky, you realize that the Winter Holiday of O’inari’s Wisdom was indeed taking place on Greed island. You were slightly surprised for a second but it soon started to make sense the more you thought about it. It had started snowing on the island recently and if the game was parallel to the times in the real world then it should also be December in the game. So it just made sense that Holidays were also coded into the game to match the changing seasons.

“Oh, so it’s a Holiday,” Gon says surprised once Bisky explains it to him, “We didn’t celebrate it on Whale Island. Maybe it’s because I was so young. But, at the very least, (y/n) will be able to celebrate it with us.”

“Huh?” You murmur confused. You never mentioned anything about doing it, “I’m not doing it. Actually, why would you think I would do it?”

“Well, you don’t have a boyfriend right? So you must have not done it yet. So you should do it! It will be fun!” Gon explains enthusiastically as Bisky nods in agreement. Of course, it was just straightforward thinking done by Gon, not thinking of other possible possibilities. Man, why exactly did Killua have to leave you to take the Hunter exam again?

“I actually have done the Holiday before,” You tell the two as you start to walk away, calling forth “book” as you do so. As you examine through your binder, you continued to explain what you meant to the younger boy, “I’ve actually done it many times. Sometimes doing a full week some years. Other times going to different locations from other cities or towns. But in all the years I’ve done, I never once heard nor bumped into anyone else in the forest. So I just gave up on th—”

Bisky suddenly cuts you off with a loud exaggerated gasp.

“Oh My~ Then that must mean you really do have a soulmate out there (y/n)! What powerful young love!!” Bisky states dreamily as sparkles and flowers seem to dance around her. All you can do is sigh at the older woman antics and continue on your way. Honestly, to you there was no way Soulmates could exist. Not a chance! There was just no science nor reason behind it. Nen could be explained. Monsters could be explained. But soulmates, not at all. It was just some made up myth with no hard facts.

As you make your way to the gate of Aiai, you feel Gon tug at your top to catch your attention.

“But, (y/n)?” You take your eyes away from your binder to look at Gon. “Do you think you could try? Perhaps one of the needed 99 slot cards is given at the event.”

“Oooo, good thinking Gon,” Bisky states looking at the flier and then looking at you. “With that possibility, I order you to do it then (y/n). Afterall, you are the only person who could do it out of us.”

You and Bisky stare at each other tensely for a little. Slightly challenging each other to step down until eventually you give up and finally look away. Even though you aren’t looking at her, you can hear Bisky doing a dance in success. “Fine then where do we go to take place in this event?”

“Apparently, you can get there by using an Accompany to Winterfell. We don’t even need to go there beforehand to use the accompany card.” As Bisky explains, you flip your binder and grab a spare accompany card. This is the last one from your binder so Gon and Bisky will have to start using their ones from now on. Well, Until you can get to Masadora to get some more.

“Okay then, let’s get this over with,” You state. Though for some reason you have an uneasy feeling in your stomach as you hold the card up. You wondered why, perhaps you felt nervous? But why would you? Greed Island was hardly crowded so this is the lowest chance of meeting someone during the Holiday. Maybe it was just the fact you haven’t done this tradition in a while. Yeah, that was probably just it, “Accompany on! To Winterfell!”

—.—.—.—.—

The crunching sound of snow is the only thing you hear as you walk through the forest. For what felt goes on for miles, all you have been seeing was snow covered pine trees. Not even birds or other sources of life have been spotted while you have been walking in this forest which was quite strange. How long have you been walking you wondered. It was hard to tell but you guessed maybe an hour or so?

Stopping next to a tree, you run your hand up it’s trunk somewhat tracing the engravement in it. You had already seen this before. It was like you have been going in circles, even though you have actually only been going straight. Was this some sort of test in the game? Maybe Gon was right about a specified slot card being here.

“Book!” In a poof, your binder opens up. Or, at least that's what you expect to happen. However, it doesn’t pop up. After calling the book a couple more times, you realize it was no use. It just doesn’t work. Was this some glitch in the game?

All of sudden, a rush of wind catches you off guard. It wasn’t just any breeze however, this gust of wind was similar to that of a giant icy blizzard. You cringe as the snow in the wind pricks and scratches at your skin. You needed to take cover from the harsh wind before you freeze to death.

Quickly, when you try to look around to find somewhere to take cover, something whips into your face, blinding you. As you struggle to pull it off of you, the wind suddenly comes to a complete stop. Weird, very weird. Finally getting it off of you and taking a good look at the item, you realize it was just an in-game scarf. Actually, you weren’t even sure it was an item from the game since it had a tag from the real world.

“Hey! That’s my sc—“ Turning around at the cheerful voice behind you, you see a familiar man a couple of feet away from you. You don’t understand why you recognize the man until he suddenly goes on guard and realization hits you. Wait a minute you remember that stance. He was a member of the Phantom Troupe wasn’t he? Shalnark, right? You quickly get on guard as well when he grabs an antenna from his pocket. An manipulator, huh? In a one on one fight like this, he has the clear advantage on you.

“Hey, I’m not here with the chain user,” You state, breaking the silence between you two. You weren’t usually someone to give up but avoiding a fight with him and going your separate ways is the best way to go in this situation. Afterall, the last thing you needed was to become his newest puppet. “I’m with the kids and all we are doing is playing the game by collecting cards.”

You wrap up Shalnark’s scarf and lightly toss it in front of his feet.

“I have no problems with you guys and I don’t want to fight you.” You continue as you start to walk backward, away from him. Hopefully, that woman, Pakunoda, told the other troupe members how you deteratarted Kurapika away from the option of placing a Nen dagger in her heart and helped spared their boss’ life.

It’s quiet and tense for a couple of minutes, not even the wind was blowing, before the blonde nods in agreement to your idea. You watch as he carefully picks up his scarf and then both of you two turn away from each other at the same time to walk away. Thankfully, counting on that woman seemed t—

All of sudden, after a couple of steps, the large gust of wind returns. You tried to fight against it and continue forward but it only seemed to grow stronger the more you tried. It grew so strong in fact that it lifted you right off your feet and threw you backward. You hoped to land on the soft snow but, of course with your luck, you hit something else very hard with a loud thump. Originally, you thought it was a tree that you hit but once you roll onto your side, you come to the realization that whatever you landed on doesn’t feel anything like tree bark.

“Ow! What was that…” Shooting up at the voice, You realize it was Shalnark that you had hit. You attempt to scurry away from him fast however, as soon as you get too far away, a gust of wind drags him back towards you. You pause as Shalnark lifts his head from being buried in the snow and looks at you confused.

“I-It’s some sort of error in the game. I swear. Maybe with the coding? Or—“ You blab out in a tangent trying to explain what was going on. Soon however, Shalnark sighs loudly, cutting you off.

“That’s a really stupid conclusion you cam up with. If you had once stop to look around you in this game, you would have realized this place, Greed Island, actually takes place in the real world. Specifically a straight shot east of York New.” Shalnark explains, somewhat sarcastically. All you do is roll your eyes. Of course you got stuck with the jackass of the troupe.

“Well then since this game isn’t actually a game, what do you think is going on, if you think you are oh so right?” You spat back at him. For some reason, you just couldn’t understand why he was being so rude in this situation, it was clearly neither of yours fault.

“Simple. This,” Shalnark states confidently as he takes the ornament from his pocket and lifts it up to you. You can’t help but laugh loudly at the idea, causing him to scowl at you.

“Y-You can’t be serious?! You and I? Soulmates!?”

“Of course! You do realize that in the myth it’s impossible for us to leave until we exchange our ornaments.” Shalnark explains, tossing his ornament at you. Clutching it in your hand, you quickly examine the ornament before scoffing.

“Yeah, not a chance,” You state as you toss his ornament back to him, causing Shalnark to sputter confused. “In no ways am I giving my personal information and phone number to the tech expert of the phantom troupe. That’s just plain stupid.”

You and Shalnark bicker on back and forth for a while until eventually he goes quiet and just glares at you. Honestly, in your opinion, it was better if he just chose to quit talking. He snaps his fingers catching you off guard, “Okay I have an idea! How about I try to convince you we are destine—”

“Soulmates?” You finish for him, slightly cringing.

“Yeah, that! And if I can convince you, then you can feel safe to give me your ornament so we can both leave.”

You ponder a little on the option he suggested. Honestly, you actually didn’t have much of any others option to begin with, “Fine. What do you got to convince me?”

“Well, first,” You watch closely as Shalnark grabs the Rose petal out from his ornament. Oh, you knew where this was going, that was actually a smart idea. Maybe this guy actually had some brain cells. “I’m going to read off my dream type of lover. I bet this will describes you.”

Reading off his petal to you, you listen carefully. As the more he goes on, you can’t deny that it did somewhat describe you, almost on the dime. As Shalnark shows the petal to you to prove he wasn’t making stuff up, You decide to grab your own petal. He seems to get excited that you finally understood what he was saying.

“See I tol—“ Shalnark is cut off when you let out a loud laugh.

“Yeah no way. Mine is ‘Someone who is like the sun; always cheerful as well as mentally bright.’” You read off, chucking it back into the ornament.

“Hey! I’m pretty cheerful! And bright!” Shalnark states, finally flashing you a smile for the first time you’ve been with him.

“Ha, I doubt that.” You say, though you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat at how handsome he looked with a smile on his face. Your eyes go wide and you mentally slap yourself. What in the world were you thinking just now? You were flustered over him?!, “N-Next! What’s your other ideas?!”

“Aw come on!”

After a couple of more attempts from Shalnark to prove you two are soulmates, as well as many more confused borderline bipolar back and forth feelings on your end, Shalnark has run out of ideas and you two sit in silence as he tries to come up with more.

“Is that all the ideas you have?” You ask him shivering slightly as you pull your jacket closer for warmth. Looking up towards the sky above the thick pine branches, you see that it had just started to get darker out, effectively making it ten times colder as well. It now dawns on you that at this rate with your progress, you two could possibly freeze to death out here if you couldn’t get to a warm shelter before night.

“Shalnark. Here I—“ You suddenly pause what you were saying as you turn to face the man, “what the hell do you think you are doing…?”

You looked confused at Shalnark, who had moved closer to sit next to you. You didn’t know what he was up to but you definitely still didn’t trust him. As you try to lift yourself up to move away, Shalnark quickly grabs your wrist to keep you put where you were. Oh hell no. You struggle against his grip, attempting to pry his fingers off of your wrist but while you are distracted he uses his other hand to grab your arm. Effectively trapping you.

You struggle against him a little more but it only causes him to push you backwards down into the snow, him slightly leaning over you. Now nervous about what Shalnark was possibly doing, you shout out to him, “H-hey! I’ll give you the ornament okay? I don’t want—“

You feel the rest of your words die in your throat as Shalnark leans his forehead against yours, causing him to get very close to your face as well. Biting the inside of your mouth, you close your eyes tightly as a way to try calming your pounding heart. You couldn’t tell if your heart was racing out of fear or possibly something else. Though, again, it wasn’t like you could think straight at this point on time to figure which one. Cutting off your thoughts, Shalnark lets out a boyish giggle and tells you, “For someone who says they hate me and doesn’t believe in soulmates, your face sure is feeling quite hot. It’s almost as if you are flustered by me.”

Quickly, most likely in an attempt to save your dignity, you turn your face away to him so his face could no longer touch yours. As you do so, your heart leaps out of your chest when you hear him let out a small aww in disappointment.

“H-hey! I said I’ll give you my ornament so let go of me!” You sputter out, trying and likely failing at keeping yourself composed. You know it’s hard for you to think logically in a situation like this but you would’ve thought you had enough common sense in you to not get flustered by a mass murder.

“Hmmmm… Nope” Shalnark answers, popping the “p” at the end. Surprised and bewildered, You whirl your head around back to look at him. He seemed to get a kick out of your reaction because he can’t help but laugh. “You are correct by the fact that all I wanted originally was to take the ornament and leave. But the more we went on, talking and bickering, I realized I wanted something else.”

“H-huh? What? I don’t have much of anything else.” You questioned. Was he talking about cards in the game? Gon carried all of the number slot cards so you didn’t have anything that was useful to Shalnark.

“Silly girl~ It’s simple.” Shalnark flashes you a smile as he boops your nose with each next word, “I. Want. You~”

As you give a weird expression in response to Shalnark flirting attempt, he looks at you confused as to why you looked like that before full on laughing, when what looked like steam started to flow from out of your head. He couldn’t believe he fried your brain with a silly pick up line. It wasn’t even a good one either.

“Adorable~” Shalnark whispers out so softly and quietly that you almost don’t hear it. You go to ask him to repeat what he said again, but stop when he leans down. He wasn’t—

You can only watch as he inches closer and closer to your face. You don’t get why you don’t stop him, you know you probably should. But you just couldn’t for some reason you didn’t quite understand.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shalnark kisses you. Stealing your first kiss, a precious thing you could never be able to get back from him. Though you doubt you would even try if you were able to.

As his lips moved against yours, you had to admit they were surprisingly soft, not at all rough or chapped like what the very few romance books you’ve read over the years described. Though you had to admit those boorish books were right about one thing, kissing someone was a feeling you’ve never once experienced before in your life. Authors have described the experience in many different ways but as Shalnark pulls away from your lips only to dive it once. Twice. And so many more times that you’ve lost count, you realize yours wasn’t like the ones written down. It didn’t take your breath away, it wasn’t rough or deep, it wasn’t messy or desperate.

But, it was yours. A feverish kiss if you must find a word to describe it. A kiss that even while pushed down into the freezing cold snow, you felt you were burning up inside. So much so, that your brain seemed to melt and your muscles turned to jelly from an non existent heat.

Finally after a while, you two pull away from each other, still in a trance like state from what happened. It’s quiet, nothing is heard nor said between you two as you just stare at each other. You know it is now dark out. You know you should be trying to get back to Gon and Bisky before they worry. You know it would be in your best interests to try to get away as far as you can from the dangerous man before you. You know you shouldn’t be feeling such feelings for him, for it is too soon and he probably doesn’t even deserve to be able to experience a pleasant emotion like this one. You know all these things almost as if they are engraved in your heart.

But, even when knowing all these things, you can’t stop yourself from dragging Shalnark back in to give you another kiss.

[geshertzarmeod]

Favorite Books of 2020

I wanted to put together a list! I read 74 new books this year, and I keep track of that on Goodreads - feel free to add or follow me if you want to see everything! I’m going to focus on the highlights, and the books that stuck with me personally in one way or another, in approximate order. Also, all but two of them (#5 and #7 on the honorable mention list) are queer/trans in some way. Links are to Goodreads, but if you’re looking to get the books, I suggest your library, the Libby app using your library, your local bookstore, or Bookshop.

The Faggots & Their Friends Between Revolutions by Larry Mitchell, illus. by Ned Asta (originally published 1977). I had a hard beginning of the year and was in a work environment where my queerness was just not welcomed or wanted. I read this in the middle of all of that, and it helped me so much. I took this book with me everywhere. I read it on planes. I read it on the bus, and on trains, and at shul. I showed it to friends... sometimes at shul, or professional development conferences. It healed my soul. Now I can’t find it and might get a new copy. When I reviewed it, in February, I wrote: “I think we all need this book right now, but I really needed this book right now. Wow. This book is magic, and brings back a sense of magic and beauty to my relationship with the world.” Also I bought my copy last July, in a gay bookstore on Castro St. in SF, and that in itself is just beautiful to me. (Here’s a post I made with some excerpts)

Once & Future duology, especially the sequel, Sword in the Stars, by A.R. Capetta and Cory McCarthy. Cis pansexual female King Arthur Ari Helix (she's the 42nd reincarnation and the first female one) in futuristic space with Arab ancestry (but like, from a planet where people from that area of earth migrated to because, futuristic space) works to end Future Evil Amazon.com Space Empire with her found family with a token straight cis man and token white person. Merlin is backwards-aging so he's a gay teenager with a crush and thousands of years of baggage. The book’s entire basis is found family, and it's got King Arthur in space. And the sequel hijacks the original myth and says “fuck you pop culture, it was whitewashed and straightwashed, there were queer and trans people of color and strong women there the whole time.” Which is like, my favorite thing to find in media, and a big part of why I love Xena so much. It’s like revisionist history to make it better except it’s actually probably true in ways. Anyway please read these books but also be prepared for an absolutely absurd and wild ride. Full disclosure though, I didn’t love the first book so much, it’s worth it for the sequel!

The Wicker King by K. Ancrum. This book hurt. It still hurts. But it was so good. It took me on a whole journey, and brought me to my destination just like it intended the whole time. The author’s note at the end made me cry! The sheer NEED from this book, the way the main relationship develops and shifts, and how you PERCEIVE the main relationship develops and shifts. I’m in awe of Ancrum’s writing. If you like your ships feral and needy and desperate and wanting and D/S vibes and lowkey super unhealthy but with the potential, with work, to become healthy and beautiful and right, read this book. This might be another one to check trigger warnings for though.

The Entirety of The Daevabad Trilogy by S.A. Chakraborty. I hadn’t heard of this series until this year, when a good friend recommended it to me. It filled the black hole in me left by Harry Potter. The political and mystical/fantasy world building is just *chef’s kiss* - the complexity! The morally grey, everyone’s-done-awful-things-but-some-people-are-still-trying-to-do-good tapestry! The ROMANCE oh my GOD the romance. If I’m absolutely fully invested in a heterosexual romance you know a book is good, but also this book had background (and then later less background) queer characters! And the DRAMA!!! The third book went in a direction that felt a little out of nowhere but honestly I loved the ride. I stayed up until 6am multiple times reading this series and I’d do it again.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon. I loved this book so much that it’s the only book I reviewed on my basically abandoned attempt at a book blog. This book is haunting, horrifying, disturbing, dark, but so, so good. The character's voices were so specific and clear, the relationships so clearly affected by circumstance and yet loving in the ways they could be. This is my favorite portrayal of gender maybe ever, it’s just... I don’t even have the words but I saw a post @audible-smiles​ made about it that’s been rattling in my head since. And, “you gender-malcontent. You otherling,” as tender pillow talk??? Be still my heart. Be ready, though, this book has all the triggers.. it’s a .

Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender. This book called me out on my perspective on love. Also, it made me cry a lot. And it has two different interesting well-written romance storylines. And a realistic coming-into-identity narrative about a Black trans demiboy. And a nuanced discussion of college plans and what one might do after college. And some big beautiful romcom moments. I wish I had it in high school. I’m so glad I have it now! (trigger warning for transphobia & outing, but the people responsible are held accountable by the end, always treated as not okay by the narrative, and the MC’s friends, and like... this is ownvoices and it’s GOOD.)

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern. My Goodreads review says, “I have no idea what happened, and I loved it.” That’s not wrong, but to delve deeper, this book has an ethereal feeling that you get wrapped up in while reading. Nothing makes sense but that’s just as it should be. You’re hooked. It is so atmospheric, so meta, so fascinating. I’ve seen so many people say they interpreted this character or that part or the ending in all different ways and it all makes sense. And it’s all of this with a gay main character and romance and the central theme, the central pillar being a love of and devotion to stories. Of course I was going to love it.

Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl’s Confabulous Memoir by Kai Cheng Thom. “Because maybe what really matters isn’t whether something is true, or false. Maybe what matters is the story itself; what kinds of doors it opens, what kinds of dreams it brings.” This book was so good and paradigm shifting. It reminded me of #1 on this list in the way it turns real life experience and hard, tragic ones at that (in this case, of being a trans girl of color who leaves home and tries to make a life for herself in the city, with its violence), into a beautiful, haunting fable. Once upon a time.

I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver. I need to reread this book, as I read it during my most tranceful time of 2020 and didn’t write a review, so I forgot a lot. What I do remember is beautiful and important nonbinary representation, a really cute romance, an interesting parental and familial/sibling dynamic that was both heartbreaking and hopeful, and an on-page therapy storyline. Also Mason Deaver just left twitter but was an absolutely hilarious troll on it before leaving and I appreciate that (and they just published a Christmas novella that I have but haven’t read yet!)

The Truth Is by NoNieqa Ramos. It took a long time to trust this book but I’m so glad I did. It’s raw and real and full of grief and trauma (trigger warnings, that I remember, for grief, death (before beginning of book), and gun violence). The protagonist is flawed and gets to grow over the course of the book, and find her own place, and learn from the people around her, while they also learn to understand her and where she’s coming from. It’s got a gritty, harsh, and important portrayal of found family, messy queerness, and some breathtaking quotes. When I was 82% through this book I posted this update: “This book has addressed almost all of my initial hesitations, and managed to complicate itself beautifully.”

Anger is a Gift by Mark Oshiro.  I wasn’t actually in the best mental health place to read this book when I did (didn’t quite understand what it was) but it definitely reminded me of what there is to fight against and to fight for, and broke my heart, and nudged me a bit closer to hope. The naturally diverse cast of characters was one of the best parts of this book. The romance is so sweet and tender and then so painful. This book is important and well-written but read it with caution and trigger warnings - it’s about grief and trauma and racism and police brutality, but also about love and community.

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden.  This is a sci-fi/fantasy/specfic mashup that takes place in near-future South Africa and has world-building myths with gods and demigoddesses and a trip to the world of the dead but also a genetically altered hallucinogenic drug that turns people into giant animals and a robot uprising and a political campaign and a transgender pop star and a m/m couple and all of them are connected. It’s bonkers. Like, so, so absolutely mind-breaking weird. And I loved it.

Crier’s War and Iron Heart by Nina Varela.  I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVED the amount of folktales they told each other with queer romances as integral to those stories, especially in Iron Heart. A conversation between the two leads where Crier says she wants to read Ayla like a book, and Ayla says she’s not a book, and Crier explains all the different ways she wants to know Ayla, like a person, and wants to deserve to know her like a person, made me weak. It lives in my head rent-free.

Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston @ekjohnston . I listened to this book on Libby and then immediately listened to it at least one more time, maybe twice, before my borrow time ran out. I love Padmé, and just always wish that female Star Wars characters got more focus and attention and this book gave me that!! And queer handmaidens! And the implication that Sabé is in love with Padmé and that’s just something that will always be true and she will always be devoted and also will make her own life anyway. And the Star Wars audiobooks being recorded the way they are with background sounds and music means it feels like watching a really long detailed beautiful Star Wars movie just about Padmé and her handmaidens.

Sissy: A Coming of Gender Story by Jacob Tobia. I needed to read this. The way Tobia talks about their experience of gender within the contexts of college, college leadership, and career, hit home. I kept trying to highlight several pages in a row on my kindle so I could go back and read them after it got returned to the library (sadly it didn’t work - it cuts off highlights after a certain number of characters). The way they talk about TOKENISM they way they talk about the responsibilities of the interviewer when an interviewee holds marginalized identities especially when no one else in the room does!!! Ahhhh!!!

Bonds of Brass by Emily Skrutskie. Disclaimer for this one that the author was rightfully criticized for writing a Black main character as a white author (and how the story ended up playing into some fucked up stuff that I can’t really unpack without spoiling). But also, the author has been working to move forward knowing she can’t change the past, has donated her proceeds, and this book is really good? It has all the fanfic tropes, so much delicious tension, a totally unexpected plot twist that had me immediately rereading the book. This book was super fun and also kind of just really really good Star Wars fanfiction.

How To Be a Normal Person by T.J. Klune. This book was so sweet, and cute, and hopeful, and both ridiculous and so real. I had some trouble getting used to Gus’ voice and internal monologue, but I got into it and then loved every bit after. The ace rep is something I’ve never seen like this before (and have barely read any ace books but still this was so fleshed out and well rounded and not just like, ‘they’re obsessed with swords not sex’ - looking at you, Once & Future - and leaving it there.) This all felt like a slice of life and I feel like I learned about people while reading it. Some of the moments are so, so funny, some are vaguely devastating. I have been personally victimized by TJ Klune for how he ends this book (a joke, you will know once you read it) but it also reminds me of the end of the “You Are There” episode of Xena and we all know what the answer to that question was.... and I choose to believe the answer here was similar.

You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson. I wish I had this book when I was in high school. I honestly have complicated feelings about prom and haven’t really been seeking out contemporary YA so I was hesitant to read this but it was so good and so well-written, and had a lot of depth to it. The movie (and Broadway show) “The Prom” wants what this book has.

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth. I never read horror books, so this was a new thing for me. I loved the feeling of this book, the way I felt fully immersed. I loved how entirely queer it was. I was interested in the characters and the relationships, even though we didn’t have a full chance to go super deep into any one person but rather saw the connections between everyone and the way the stories matched up with each other. I just wanted a bit of a more satisfying ending.

Honorable Mention: reread in 2020 but read for the first time pre-2020

Red White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. I couldn’t make this post without mentioning this book. It got me through this year. I love this book so much; I think of this book all the time. This book made me want to find love for myself. You’ve all heard about it enough but if you haven’t read this book what are you DOING.

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan @sarahreesbrennan​ . I reread this one over and over too, both as text and as an audiobook. I went for walks when I had lost my earbuds and had Elliott screaming about an elf brothel loudly playing and got weird looks from someone walking their dog. I love this book so much. It’s just so fun, and so healing to read a book reminiscent of all the fantasies I read as a kid, but with a bi main character and a deconstruction of patriarchy and making fun of the genre a bit. Also, idiots to lovers is a great trope and it’s definitely in this book.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. This book is forever so important to me. I am always drawn in by how tenderly Sáenz portrays his characters. These boys. These boys and their parents. I love them. I love them so much. This is another one where I don’t even know what to say. I have more than 30 pages in my tag for this book. I have “arda” set as a keyboard shortcut on my phone and laptop to turn into the full title. This book saved my life.

Last Night I Sang to the Monster by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. This book hurts to read - it’s a story about trauma, about working through that trauma, healing enough to be ready to hold the worst memories, healing enough to move through the pain and start to make a life. It’s about found family and love and pain and I love it. It’s cathartic. And it’s a little bit quietly queer in a beautiful way, but that’s not the focus. Look up trigger warnings (they kind of are spoilery so I won’t say them here but if you have the potential to be triggered please look them up or ask me before reading)

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine.  When asked what my all time favorite book is, it’s usually this one. Gail Carson Levine has been doing live readings at 11am since the beginning of the pandemic shut down in the US, and the first book she read was Ella Enchanted. I’ve been slowly reading it to @mssarahpearl and am just so glad still that it has the ability to draw me in and calm me down and feels like home after all this time. This book is about agency. I love it.

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman @chronicintrovert . I’ve had this on my all-time-faves list since I read it a few years ago and ended up rereading it this year before sending a gift copy to a friend, so I could write little notes in it. It felt a little different reading it this time - as I get further away from being a teenager myself, the character voice this book is written in takes a little longer to get used to, but it’s so authentic and earnest and I love it. I absolutely adore this book about platonic love and found family and fandom and mental illness and abuse and ace identity and queerness and self-determination, especially around college and career choices. Ahhh. Thank you Alice Oseman!!!

Leia: Princess of Alderaan by Claudia Gray @claudiagray​ . I have this one on audible and reread it several times this year. I love the fleshing out of Leia’s story before the original trilogy, I love her having had a relationship before Han, and the way it would have affected her perspective. I also am intrigued by the way it analyses the choices the early rebellion had to make... I just, I love all the female focused new Star Wars content and the complexity being brought to the rebellion.