#thank you for the questions though these are really fun!

[precure1ove]

crush panic

summary : how they act when they have a crush

characters : all dorms (-grim &ortho)

warnings : some may be ooc, crack?, fluff, not edited, completely self indulgent everything is intended as romantic

a/n : new theme how we feeling!! my favourite is loser as its the most fun to write. im thinking of making a second part on how they confess if this does well

an absolute loser in love

he has absolutely fallen head over heels for you and now has no idea how to act normal around you anymore. the slightest bit of physical contact or praise will send him into shock, and later cause no sleep at night because he over thinks that one moment again and again. “does that mean they like me too? Or are they just being friendly?” 

yeah there's no hope for him. he acts super awkward around you, stuttering, laughing randomly, no he isn't blushing it's just suddenly hot all of the sudden-in the middle of the coldest season-he always agonizes over why he can't just act cool in front of you. during classes, if you're in his you bet he’ll just stare at you from afar, and if you're in his well he discreetly glances at you every now and then not knowing that you can clearly see him looking at you-though you don't seem to mind finding it cute.

and if you tell him that he’ll go bright red and avert his gaze “haha.. uh thanks.. I think?” cue screaming into a pillow later at night.

deuce, idia, azul, riddle, sebek + ur fav

stage five complete and utter denial

he's in complete denial. there's no way that he likes you, he must be getting sick that's why his heart beats fast when you're near with his cheeks burning a bright red. he makes it his entire goal to try and lose feelings for you, so he creates a list of all your good and bad attributions-unsurprisingly all the negative ones turn out not so bad when he puts thought into it it ...what the hell is he thinking? 

it may take a while for him to accept his feelings, so you're gonna have to endure glares when passing or in class and possible snarky comments thrown at you. However, if he hears someone is mean to you, crush be damned he can only do that to you. He tries to act completely uninterested in you, a way to fool himself that he does not like you, but the second he hears any bit of gossip he's suddenly interested. 

he looks at you weirdly, flustered at your question “uh... why am i suddenly interested in who you were with.. no reason.”

leona, ace, vil, ruggie + ur fav

doesn't realise he has a crush

oh spare this oblivious boy, he hasn't ever really liked someone before so he doesn’t know that wanting to spend more time with you, fussing over your well-being, thinking of you and how much better it would be if you were here is not what platonic friends should be thinking-especially if those thoughts lead to how would your lips feel.

someone would have to straight up tell him that he has a crush on you or he would never figure it out for himself and go on with his life never confessing. when someone finally does tell him, he’ll notice how different he really acts, catching himself waiting for your messages and dropping everything once you text back. you also get the added bonus of finally seeing him flustered! since he's in the stage of actually being involved in having a crush, every touch, smile, or praise is enough to make his face and ears turn red.

“wait so you mean wanting to kiss them is not normal?” he pauses and rethinks everything he thought about you.

silver, kalim, malleus, jack + ur fav

quick to show off to impress you

he doesn't believe he can win your heart with his personality so he works extra hard on stuff he knows he can do well-better than the average person-he believes if he impresses you by this he has a chance. surprisingly he acts rather normal with you, excluding the way he's more relaxed with your presence and the constant flush on his face.

he's rather quick to recognise his crush on you and he's even more quick to decide he needs to make himself an available suitor in your eyes. you’ve gotten used to your name being called out across the halls from him, strutting over to you to show you what he made or did last night-he'll become flustered if you praise him shrugging it off with flimsy excuses until he gets back into what he originally wanted to share albeit with a slight red face. what's even better is if he invites you out to come try it with him, enjoying the chance to spend time with you and show off in real time what he can do.

“what do you think of this, isn't it impressive? you really think so.. haha..”

trey, cater, jamil, epel + ur fav

he goes straight to courting you

he's the first to notice his change in feelings for you from platonic to romantic instantly and wastes no time to try and court you. he starts greeting you daily, offering you gifts, takes you out with the excuse of needing help and you find yourself out at a restaurant eating expensive food and wonder how the hell did you end up here when he needed a book? 

you will never catch this boy being flustered instead you'll find yourself stuttering while turning a bright red. if you enact physical contact or compliment him he flashes you a mischievous smile and teases you for ‘finally falling for him’.. no, that was not a joke. despite all the teasing he does genuinely care about you and goes out of his way to buy or make stuff he'll think you'll like, your reaction to his displays of courting amuses him especially when you make such cute faces at him. courting is just a way for him to make his feelings known, after all you were his the moment he caught feelings.

“hm.. how did we end up at a restaurant.. does it matter? now what did you choose for the meal?”

jade, rook, lilia

there's no crush. you're dating

floyd has never experienced the crush stage and he doesn't want to after all that's boring. why wait thinking about coincidental glances, and accidental contact when he knows he likes you and you like him! he's fast to let you know his feelings and won't take no for an answer why would you reject him if you like him. 

now that you think about it, you're not even sure floyd even asked you out. he just sort of grabbed your hand, said 'you're mine' and you both went to get food. so well done you're in a not relationship-relationship with a giant eel! floyd feels like he can never get bored being with you and is always by your side, or on since he's a fan of physical touch and will have some part of him touching you-an arm on your waist, legs over his, head tucked into your neck-the only time he's away from you is if jade or azul need him for the lounge and that's only for a few moments until you're also called by them to keep floyd in the lounge.

“huh, do i like you?” floyd glances at you briefly before grumbling, “we literally made out this morning and you're asking if i like you shrimpy.”

floyd

likes & reblogs appreciated

masterlist⠀ — ⠀ request here

[yuurei20]

Is sebek racist? Only a fun question, do not take seriously

Hello hello! Thank you so much for this question, I have been so excited to discuss Sebek's speech patterns since Book 7 reached EN~🥳

Silver says outright that Sebek can be prejudiced at times and Lilia states in the beginning of Book 7 that Sebek is the very picture of his grandfather, from the way he talks to the way he thinks.

We as the players do not realize how literally he means this comment until later in Book 7 when we meet Baul Zigvolt and realize that their speech patterns have a lot in common:

While maybe difficult to put across in the English-language adaptation of the game, Sebek has always spoken very old fashioned.

(Ace: "Okay grandpa, you gonna take her for a buggy ride next?")

He will occasionally say "this Sebek" in reference to himself, which Baul also does. (They are also both canonically quite loud, possibly another trait that Sebek adopted from Baul).

Sebek will also infamously refer to others using the 貴様 form of "you," which doesn't really exist outside of fiction and is such a rude form that it is practically a swear word. More here ->

Sebek uses it constantly, in everyday conversation.

And see Baul using it in Book 7 just all the time, with everyone except his superiors such as Lilia and Maleanor (there is even a time he becomes very angry and uses it with the senate).

Also like Baul, Sebek will switch to the extremely old-fashioned and formal "kiden" to refer to people who have impressed him. More here ->

Sebek's battle cry of "I'll swallow you whole" even seems to come from Baul!

And another thing Baul did in Book 7: refer to Sebek as human rather than by his name until Sebek earned his respect, which we have also seen happen between Sebek and Azul.

(In a Nightmare Before Christmas voiceline Sebek refers to Zero as a ghost and then a dog, eventually settling on his name, while he refers to Jack Skellington as "Bones." Is Sebek not just calling out humans, but referring to everyone by what they are rather than who they are?*)

(Does he simply yell human more than "dog," "ghost," etc., because humans are the species we have seen him interact with the most? It was confirmed in the novels that mermaids, beast-people, etc., are all referred to as "human" within the Twst universe, which has yet to be confirmed by the game but also has yet to be disproved.)

Sebek also refers to Grim as "dire beast."

There is a significant moment where he shifts to calling both Grim and the prefect by their names in Book 7, which the prefect even has the option of acknowledging aloud: "Whoa, you called me by my name?"

In a Harveston sub-plot Sebek even refuses to use an honorific with Epel's grandmother Marja until she proves herself worth of his respect.

Silver calls Sebek out on his inappropriate use of "kisama," while both Riddle and Sebek scold him for referring to people as "humans."

Whereas Epel's rude speech patterns can be explained by how it is a part of the dialect he was raised to speak and therefore he doesn't know any better (more here ->) Sebek is consciously and intentionally speaking down to others until they prove themselves worthy--is this something he learned from Baul?

Sebek says that Baul provided him with "an enriching education," but what exactly did that education entail?

Lilia expresses frustration with Sebek's inability to adapt to society, but canonically Sebek has only been outside of Briar Valley for 6 months, while he's been emulating his grandfather for 16 years.

Lilia says that Sebek has always been close to Baul and Jamil has a line of, "When admiration goes too far, the consequences can be dire."

I always assumed this was meant to be about Malleus, and while it still might be, is it also a reference to Sebek's devoted imitation of his beloved grandfather?

And we can go even deeper if we want, though this goes into theoretical territory:

Sebek was born after Briarland had already fallen to its invaders, but he was raised in a community where the war is still living memory.

Baul fought to protect his home against those who overran the land, exploited its resources, labeled him a monster, and drove them all into a fraction of their former territory.

He remembers what Briarland was before it the invasion, he fought to save it, he failed, and he survived to help put what was left of the country back together.

And then his daughter married someone who is potentially a direct descendent of the very invaders who had spent years killing anyone who looked like him and destroying everything he'd known (with even his native language possibly disappearing: Sebek says that speakers are "somewhat rare" in modern day, as the fae have generally adopted Common as their language of choice).

Sebek: "This has been weighing on me ever since we entered Lilia's dream. That my own father's distant ancestors may very well have been involved in all this too..."

And due to the long lifespans of the fae he isn't the only one with trauma and loss that feels both recent and personal.

Sebek and his siblings were not raised amongst the offspring of those who survived the war but the literal survivors themselves, unlike the humans to whom the wars are ancient history.

Sebek: "You must remember: from Lilia, Grandfather, and Malleus's perspectives...the Dawn Knight is not likely someone they consider to belong to the 'distant past.'"

While not confirmed in-game, it is not too wild to imagine that Sebek has chosen to ally himself with the survivors rather the invaders, and especially when he has been raised to idolize Malleus, whose own mother they killed not very long ago by fae standards.

While humans have been reproducing and dying at such a rapid pace that the current generation might not know that dragons are real, the same fae that managed to escape the slaughter are still there, and are now being met with the people born of those who stole their country but to whom there doesn't seem to be much significance to it all beyond a chapter in a history book.

And that might all be very well tied up in Sebek's use of "human"! (Disclaimer: this is all just a personal analysis and one of many possible explanations!)

Not only does it seem to be a speech pattern that Sebek has adopted directly from the grandfather he adores (and from Lilia and Malleus, who are also known to refer to non-fae as "humans" and whom he idolizes), but it may also be a reminder both to himself and to everyone around that while he may be two worlds in one, he does not approve of those that tore apart the community he grew up in, lest someone wrongfully assume that he agrees with the actions of his human ancestors.

Which would make it a form of self-preservation while growing up in a predominantly fae area.

Sebek's speech patterns and behaviors might be serving as a way for him to assert his loyalty to the fae, the people whom he admires, identifies with and was raised by, and distance himself from the humans who tried to eradicate them.

(If Sebek’s mother brought his father to Briar Valley from somewhere else (possibly Sunset Savanna) as has been implied, it’s possible Sebek’s human lineage isn’t tied to the invaders at all, but this is still vague.)

*Sebek refers to Sally as "Sally" throughout the Halloween event, using her name without an honorific but at least using it, much like he did with Marja. He also chastises Trey for failing to offer his hand to Sally and help her to her feet when she falls to the ground. Does Sebek possibly have a chivalrous side, not dissimilar to Leona? Memo: must check.

[grandline-fics]

Hey dear! I really love your writing,so so much! And if you were still open for requests I would love to see you write Smoker with the prompt 'Kiss to prove a point' If that is okay? <3 Thank you so much and thank you for sharing your amazing writing! <3

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Kiss to prove a point

WARNINGS: Hi there! Thank you so much for this request, there's very Smoker love on my blog which I'll have to try and fix haha. I had a lot of fun coming up with the scenario for this prompt and I hope you like what I wrote.

CHARACTERS: Smoker

WORDS: 1,276

A/N:

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

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When people looked at Smoker they took in the tall imposing figure; the broad shoulders, the scar, and the constant scowl and nearly hostile stare that kept everyone guessing on whether he was incapable of being in a good mood or if someone had pissed him off the second he woke up that morning. Some on the G5 base now joked that Smoker scowled when he was a kid and his face got stuck that way, his expression only changing to evoke angrier emotions, never positive ones. The subordinates of G5 obviously worshipped their commander, it was just they needed to find something to comment on, to joke about and use it as a way to see that he was human just like the rest of them. While focussing on Smoker’s constantly grumpy face was always a classic for them, a new topic had arisen to entertain the masses: his blossoming relationship with you.

The term blossoming was very, very loose for the G5 Marines because nothing in anyway juicy or scandalous had so much as occurred on the base between you two. At this point they would have  taken something borderline tame. Just something. Anything to show them that their boss was actually in a relationship. Because as far as they knew one morning they all came down to the mess hall and Tashigi gleefully passing along the news that you and Smoker were officially dating. That was it, just the Captain’s solid confirmation of the romance. Nothing changed though. You both were the visions of decorum and stellar professionalism. 

Now you were the more cheerful of the pairing-which wasn't hard by comparison- but when you and Smoker were seen talking in the corridors or in the other's office it was always respectable, enough space between you both as it had before Tashigi stated you were an item. There was no quick jolts out of each other’s presence like you’d almost been caught getting cosy, no flushed faces or lingering looks shared. Hell, no one had even seen you touch the other even something as simple as you putting your hand on his arm would have given them something. After a week of waiting they came to the conclusion that Smoker was clueless and they felt sorry for you.

“Should we say something?” One asked in the middle of the training yard one afternoon. “Not even in a prying way…maybe he just doesn’t know?”

“Know what?” A second questioned with a frown.

“Maybe he doesn’t know how relationships like this work?”

“Yeah he could be unknowingly neglecting them?” The third suggested make the first Marine nod firmly, happy that someone was on his wavelength.

“Exactly! It’s not prying exactly, just offering encouragement?” He stated with a proud smile. “And if the Vice-Admiral’s in good spirits then the entire base’s morale will improve too.”

“Guys…I’ve had a thought.” Another Marine uttered nervously. “What if it's too late? What if they’ve already broken up?” Silence fell over the group as they now considered the very possible scenario. Poor you, already fed up of no change in your relationship with Smoker had ended things but you were both so professional that no one knew anything. 

“No!” One of the Marine’s laughed, more to convince himself that couldn't be the case. “Tashigi would have said!”

“What? So soon after telling us they were together?” The Marine asked with a solemn shake of their head. “Announcing a breakup so soon after would be a greater wound to Vice-Admiral Smoker’s pride than anything.” Once again the dejected silence fell over the group, mourning their commander and idol’s dead love life. 

Sharply behind the group, a loud and obvious throat was cleared and every Marine snapped their heads around to freeze and pale at the sight of Smoker staring down at them; arms folded, eyes narrowed, and teeth slowly grinding against the cigars in his mouth. “The point of the training yard is to actually train your bodies and skills, not train your tongues to gossip like teenagers.”

The group flinched at the harsh words but they swallowed their fear enough to meet his stare.

“W-we’re sorry sir but we-”

“I heard.” Smoker sharply cut off the pathetic excuse before he had to suffer hearing their ridiculous opinions in his personal life another time. “I just don’t know how any of it is your concern.”

“Morale!” Smoker rolled his eyes at their unified explanation. When in doubt, that always was their go-to reasoning for immaturity. One dared to continue with hope in their eyes. “Please at least tell us you haven’t blown things yet. Don’t be afraid to make them feel special, it’s okay to show you care.”

“I haven’t-” Smoker stopped himself to roughly run a hand down his face at exasperation at the group. He was beginning to consider he was being too soft with his subordinates and let out a sharp huff. This was all Tashigi’s fault. Why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut? “You have no need to worry. Everything is…everything is fine.”

“Just fine?” One of the Marine’s questioned with a tense frown. “Sir…”

“What now?”

“Fine is how you describe the mess hall’s food…not a new relationship.” The Marine told him. “If you're not careful they could be seduced by someone who’s not afraid to even hold their hand.”

Smoker was about to launch into a full tirade at the group for meddling in his life and inferring he wasn’t treating you properly. He’d been very close to throttling them when they hadn’t realised he was there and neglecting you in some way. Now hearing it being said to his face only angered him more. Thankfully for their benefit, you’d appeared in the training yard in search of another Marine. Your eyes locked on to the Marine in question, spotting him amongst the group in front of Smoker and began to approach.

Feeling something snap in him, Smoker swiftly discarded his cigars and closed the space just as you drew closer. You gave him a cursory nod and prepared to step around him, only to gasp when Smoker’s arm caught you around the waist and turned you to face him properly. Your eyes widened when Smoker’s lips settled over yours, luring you into a slow and gentle kiss. As always with Smoker, his presence enveloped you completely, settling you into a sense of calm and had you responding to the kiss immediately while quickly forgetting your surroundings. The second you returned the kiss Smoker heightened it once more, inwardly smirking in satisfaction at your eager reaction and the fact that this would now promptly shut up his squad and teach them to never doubt him or his ability to know how relationships work. 

Reluctantly Smoker parted and pressed a final peck against your still parted lips. Blinking out of your daze you stared up at your lover, breathless and pleasantly surprised. Pressing your lips together you finally felt you were being stared at and glanced to the side to see your slack-jawed audience and cleared your throat, forcing a polite smile to the group before looking away again. “It’s not our anniversary is it?” You asked softly to Smoker while he offered you a rare chuckle that was often left when you were both in private.

“Nah, everything’s fine.” He told you, finally releasing you. “Don’t think about it.”

“Easy for you to say, I’ll be thinking about this all day.” You laughed before walking away, the kiss effectively making you forget why you even came out to the training yard in the first place.

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TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa@kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost

[kiyo-cant-write]

req: Jade with a yandere reader. He’s fully aware they’re spiraling and growing obsessed but he’s just feeding into it for fun (turning a blind eye, leaving things out for them to take, giving them attention, etc). He thinks it’s harmless since they’re “weak” and lowers his guard because of it (probably a bad idea). You can decide if he actually likes them back or if he just sees it as a game, I just think yandere reader stuff is fun :)

jade w/ yandere!reader ✧･ﾟ

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Thank you for requesting. I used to be active in the Diabolik Lovers fandom so I think I know how to write yandere even though it's not something I do/did often. I hope I did your concept justice.

Readers, please note that viewer discretion is advised for this piece. Check the trigger warnings!

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Summary: Jade Leech has gotten himself into quite the situation with his "lover" of sorts. It started as a game, but is it a game anymore? They say they love him, that they want him to be theirs. Is he? Jade isn't sure what the answer to that question is anymore.

TW/CW: obsessive behavior, toxicity, yandere

Notes: established relationship, the reader is human, they/them pronouns used for the reader, the reader is described as smaller than the tweels, the reader is not explicitly Ramshackle Prefect.

Guest Stars: Azul Ashengrotto (mentioned), Floyd Leech

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Jade Leech

Jade didn't intend for this to happen. It was an accident.

At first, he was simply curious what [Name] would do.

How far would they go? How interesting~

He was tempted, he knew that. So did Floyd and Azul.

But, as time went on, he began to feel things were different.

[Name] was intense, and controlling at times, but they weren't someone so strong that he worried about it. They were weak.

What harm would it do playing along?

A certain degree of damage it would seem.

Now Azul is upset and Floyd is even a bit worried.

But how does Jade feel?

He smiles and seems fine with it all.

Why is he okay with all this?

Jade has only ever tolerated Floyd's whims before.

What kind of spell does this human have him under?

As far as merfolk were concerned, they were supposed to lure humans into their traps... not the other way around.

But Jade made a mistake, Jade assumed their strength.

Jade Leech was wrong.

"Name-san asked me to bring them something. That said, I will need to use my 15-minute break to do so," Jade told his brother in his typical voice, a slight smile playing on his lips, "You don't mind, do you?"

Floyd sighed. It was always like this. Jade would disappear to spend time with that weird human from another dorm. At first, Floyd didn't care who Jade wanted to play with, but it had been months by now. Wasn't it boring yet? Or was this human really so interesting?

Jade had told him they were together, but what did that mean?

Floyd doubted their parents would allow marriage at this age with so much... work to do for the family business. And the more Floyd looked at it, the more Jade seemed like some kind of butler for the human, even more so than Jade's little tasks for Azul!

It was getting weird! Really weird!

Azul was annoyed too, Floyd knew that. He would always say "get Jade back here" and "where is Jade?" and "Floyd! Tell Jade to come back from his date this instant!" It was such a pain...

"Are you sure you're okay, Jade?" Floyd asked instead of answering his brother's statement, "You're with that person a lot."

Jade cocked his head to the side. What did Floyd mean?

"I'm fine, Floyd. You need not worry," he assured Floyd with a smile that would convince most, but not his brother, "Let Azul know I will be back soon, alright?"

Floyd sighed in defeat, he was doing that a lot lately.

"Alright. Don't be late, I don't wanna solo this shift."

"I will do my best, hehe," Jade offered though the following chuckle was not promising, "I'll be going then."

Jade turned and walked out of the lounge, headed toward the meeting spot that he and [Name] shared. It was, Jade thought, rather impressive that his "love" of sorts let him continue to work. As Jade had noticed, they seemed particularly upset that he must leave their side for "another" even if it was his job, his brother, and that very stingy octopus they worked for.

As their form came into view, he greeted them.

"[Name]-san."

"Jade~!" they said, smiling as they came up to him and enveloped him in a hug, not seeming to care that Jade had to adjust himself to not drop their order, "I missed you! ...Where were you?"

Their tone darkened as they asked the question.

"Preparing your food," he answered with the practiced precision he used to serve Azul (and one time, Pomefiore's housewarden).

Jade offered a smile and [Name]'s mood brightened.

"You're such a good boy, Jade. Thank you!" they said, taking the food from him when he offered it, "What would I do without you?"

"I am not sure," came the response from Jade.

"You wouldn't leave me for your silly job, would you?" [Name] cooed at him, that strange side of them coming out to play.

He shook his head, deciding that playing along even now was still a fun pastime for him (despite what Floyd might say about it being too weird and sketchy for even them to do).

"Of course not," he told them, "I am yours."

"You are mine," they confirmed, "My little Jade."

It was a funny line given Jade's height in comparison to theirs.

They stepped closer to Jade and took his hand in theirs, pulling him closer to them. [Name] had set their food aside, finding Jade much more interesting than the meal he had brought them for lunch.

"Jade, you're never going to leave, right?"

Jade paused for a millisecond, weighing the options quickly. He could say he was theirs forever and keep up this charade or he could give himself an out. What to do, what to do...

Their grip tightened slightly as they sensed hesitation.

"Jade."

"I won't leave your side."

"Good," they said with a sweet smile, their typical persona returning, "Then I won't have to do anything just yet."

"Oya?"

"Silly fishie, if you left me for that lounge I'd have to take more drastic measures than just this," they explained, still not letting go of Jade's hand, "I can't have my future husband abandoning me."

Jade noted what they were saying. Perhaps he had miscalculated their will to keep him in their clutches. Would they make an enemy out of Azul and Floyd? The lounge wasn't a good space to wage war.

"I see. I will be sure not to put anything above you," he told them.

Jade tried to ignore the feeling that something was wrong. How could he have lost the game to such a small human? This human lacked the strength that he or Floyd possessed. From his research, their UM was not as potent as Azul's or the other housewardens'...

What was he missing? What had he forgotten?

"You'll stay with me forever, Jade~" they told him.

He sighed and nodded, resting his gloved hand over theirs.

As terrifying as it was to have lost such a game... perhaps it was the thrill he yearned for. What was that saying? The spice of life?

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Imagine the rest yourself~

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hey 🙋‍♀️,

First of all I LOVE your writing! It feels so wholesome. It's great. So I thought I could leave my two cents here maybe.

So the idea is Aegon is very happy, that his partner accepts him beeing a sub and that he loves their softdom side and he starts to build a healthier lifestyle all together. But Aegon thinks he has to brat to keep things interessting for his partner, even though he wants nothing more than beeing praised and be called a good boy. And maybe he had a bad day and breaks down and tells his partner, that he can't brat for them today and they are confused, becaus they never expected him to do it in the first place, just thought he was into it.

And then he notices, that his partner is not his mother. They will praise him, just because he tries and does not expect him to be perfect or anything and he really realises just how safe the safe space with them really is.

I just wanne cuddle the puppy and call him good boy. I'll be honest.

Again I love your writing. So do with that what you want, or dont, if this is not your cup of tea. Thats fine.

I'm happy you're back. Lots of Love. 🥰

Oh good lord I love this.

Sub!aegon below the cut with some non-explicit NSFW themes :))

My immediate thought is that I think this most likely stemmed from how in his childhood he learnt that a) he couldn't do anything right and that b) if he acted out then he'd get some attention. He could never seem to get positive attention, could never be good enough for praise. He used to try so hard to meet his mother's expectations and when he never could, she'd just ignore him or give him another task without acknowledging all the work he had done trying to meet her previous expectation.

But... when he misbehaved? Then he'd have both his parents storming into his room. Yes they were telling him off and criticising him, but he didnt invisible. It often felt like if he did something right no one bothered to even glance at him, so he'd rather do something more fun and have everyone working with him, even if they were working to punish him.

When he marries you, he expects you to either see him as a burden or barely see him at all. But you're nothing like that.

The first thing you do that makes him pause is when you actually just ask him about his day? The marriage is arranged of course, but you want to make the best of it. And when you discover how he lights up when you speak with him, and how gently excited he seems when you compliment him, you start to realise that maybe this could be something more than just politics.

Aegon falls into the submissive position so easily with you. There's something about the gentle yet firm way you speak to him that makes his little mind shut off. He relaxes with you, tells you how he feels, even dares to try and please you.

He loves being your good boy, loves seeing your smile and knowing he's making you happy. He'd be with you every second of every day if he could. You're the only person who doesn't make him feel stupid, and not only that, you're also the only person who can guide him without making him feel belittled. When he asks his mother or small counsel for advice they tend to scoff and seem disappointed that he didn't know the answer to his question already. But with you, you just smile and help him, and if you dont know then you take him to the maesters' rooms and try to find out together. He just loves how easy it all is.

At first he used to talk back and disobey to get your attention. But once he realises he gets far more of your time by being good, then he dives right back into being your good boy.

The issues start to occur when he's been good with you for so long that you start to predict what he's doing? You walk into your chambers to find a pretty flower on your nightstand for the third time that week, and while of course you thank him, you add, "Again? Well I'm awfully lucky." You say it off handedly, and you really are touched by the flower he left you. He seems quieter that evening but not so out of character that you get worried.

Then a few days later you're sitting by the fireplace in your chambers, reading a book when he comes in. He kneels at your feet, really wanting to relax and feel your hands playing with his hair. You do it of course, and you tell him how pretty he is. But you also comment that you should get a thicker carpet if he's going to be kneeling often for the sake of his knees.

To him, things like those comments suggest you're getting bored with him? Growing up he always had to switch out tactics the moment someone realised what he was going because once they knew, they'd always just use it against him or ignore him. If he was predictable, then no one would need to actually come find him and watch him because they'd all know what he was doing already.

Of course you don't mean it like that, but he doesn't know that. How could he possibly know that when he's been so used to the other way?

He has always been a bit of a brat with you, but that seemed to fizzle out quickly as he got comfortable. You're surprised when suddenly is returns, and even more surprised when suddenly Aegon is not only breaking his rules but almost gloating?

Aegon isn't allowed to drink more than two cups of wine if you arent with him. It's a rule that at first he didnt like but he grew to genuinely love. It was hard turning down the third glass, but not hard enough that he would break his rules. He'd feel genuinely proud of himself when he sees you afterwards and tells you how good he was.

So when he comes to you and tells you he had five cups of wine, you're honestly much more worried than you are angry. You don't understand what on earth made him break that rule. But, you have the rules for a reason and you follow through. He gets his punishment and then it's over.

He wants so badly to beg for forgiveness and ask for help and promise to never disobey you again. But he's scared that if he does that then you'll once again start to know what he's doing.

He starts to yoyo from good boy to absolute brat every few weeks, and you're getting concerned.

It all comes to a head one night when he retires to bed late and had been told off by several small council members that day. He wants to badly to just fall to his knees and ask for guidance, to let his mind turn off and let you guide him. But he did that two nights ago, and he doesn't think you'd be happy with that again.

So he tries to be cheeky and bratty and tries to talk back to you. Only he can barely even finish his first sentence before tears are gathering in his eyes and he's begging for forgiveness. You're very confused about what he's sorry for but he's in no state to tell you, so you just comfort him and hold him and kiss his head and promise him that you'll help him work out whatever is going on.

It's that last part that makes the damn break. He starts mumbling about how you can't help him work through this because he's not able to do what he's supposed to, how you're going to get bored of him soon but he just couldnt take having to disobey you.

Of course you set him straight and tell him that you love him, and that you'd never want him to force himself into something just to please you, you won't allow it.

He's so relieved when he hears that, so much so that he sort of just collapses against you, looking up at you with wide, misty eyes that show you how much he just wants to listen to you.

He's your good boy after all.

[soulstutters]

hi there!

woohoo I was wondering if you could write something with Okarun, maybe with a sunshine but quiet Reader? Like a caring and sweet reader who takes care of everyone including him...

Have a great day!

Candy Crush

pairing: Okarun x gn!Reader

a/n: i had to start completely over to get this to something i liked and i still dk if it's good enough blehhhhh. i had fun with it though, thanks for requesting!! i don't think i did a good job with the taking care of everyone thing :(

It was a beautiful day and Okarun could feel it all over. It was like the sun was beaming down on him and the wind was guiding him as he biked the way to the Ayase residence. He was headed to meet up with his friends for a nice lunch. He slowed down for just a moment to shove his right hand in his jacket pocket, making sure his treasures were still inside. Momo had teased him and called it all trash the other day, but you know the saying. Okarun knew these candy wrappers were deserving of far more than a landfill. There was nothing special about the wrappers themselves, crumpled and empty of their sweets. The only thing worth noting about the pile was that each and every one of them was yellow, whether they boasted the taste of tangy pineapple or creamy banana. A little more important than their color to Okarun was the person they were from. 

You. 

You were new to their little cryptid crew, and you were a great addition. You smiled and hung out with them and helped with every supernatural situation. And the candy. The candy was Okarun’s favorite part. Every time you saw him you’d pull out a handful of pieces, and every time Okarun received them with as much joy as the last time. They were gifts that came with mementos he could keep with him to remember your time together. But with all the time you did spend with him and the others, Okarun was a bit confused.

Don’t get him wrong, he was glad you hung around - he just wasn’t sure why. Okarun didn’t like to make assumptions, but their group didn’t really seem like your type. They all had such big personalities; confrontational Momo, delusional Aira, and…Jiji. Okarun could even admit that he himself tended to be a bit high-strung. You, on the other hand, were on the more quiet side. Instead of joining in, you mostly just laughed at their antics. 

Okarun never got the feeling you were uncomfortable. He just really, really didn’t want you to be. He liked having you around, and he was just starting to realize his feelings went beyond what he felt for the others. The next step for him was figuring out how to tell you how he felt. 

Okarun had this goal in mind as he slowed his bike to a stop as he reached the Ayase household. He wrapped his hands around your gifts to him inside his pocket for good luck. He then removed his hand and placed it around his glasses frame with a resolute expression. Like a man, Okarun thought to himself as he pushed his shoulders back and began the march to the front door.

His march and his bravery lasted right up until he reached the doorstep. Okarun withered slightly as he thought about what he’d say to you. He extended his arm out towards the door, but was startled when it suddenly opened. Before he could process anything, Momo, Aira, and Jiji came barreling out the passageway. He narrowly caught a rushed statement that Seiko was out doing errands as his three friends bolted past him. Okarun was just able to latch on to Momo’s hand, holding her back from escaping the property. 

“Miss Ayase! What’s going on? Is something wrong? Is Y/N okay?” Okarun bombarded Momo with questions, his concern growing as he noticed your absence. At his last inquiry, a smirk that should have been scary grew across Momo’s face. 

“No! They’re not okay!” Momo snickered as Okarun’s face burst into a panic. “They’re in danger,” she emphasized, placing her hands on Okarun’s shoulders.

“What happened? Where are they?” Okarun began firing off questions again. He looked over to Aira and Jiji who were peeking out from behind the torii to watch him. He balled up his fists and strode firmly towards them, ready to save you from whatever danger you had found yourself in. Before he could get very far, though, Momo yanked him backwards by his collar.

“Okarun! You have to listen so I can tell you what’s going on with them,” Momo stared him down seriously. Okarun nodded vigorously, ready to do whatever he could to help. “Y/N is in danger…of being alone.”

“What.” Okarun’s entire body slackened in confusion, his palms opening, head tilting, and spine slumping. 

“Be serious,” Momo demanded. “There is a whole gourmet meal in there, with dessert. They are in there, by themselves, and it would be an act of evil to have them eat alone.”

“Oh. Okay? Let’s go in and eat then. You guys were going to look for me?” Okarun blinked away the alarm in his eyes. He was a little confused, but Momo was usually like this. 

“No, Okarun,” Momo hung her head and shook it solemnly. She raised her head quickly, startling her friend. “Only you can do this!”

With that, she shoved Okarun through her front door and slid it closed behind him. He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded at what just happened. Through the door, he could hear Momo, Aira, and Jiji chittering as they darted off to who knows where. 

That was how Okarun ended up here, across from you, at the food-filled table. Momo wasn’t lying about that part, at least. She really hadn’t been lying about anything. There was food and you were alone. His presence hadn’t really changed anything, though. Neither of you were eating or talking. The not talking wasn’t strange for you, but Okarun was worried he was making you uncomfortable with his own silence.

Okarun fiddled with an old candy wrapper in his lap, trying to figure out what to say to you. He was starting to think that maybe Momo was right - maybe keeping these pieces of paper was stupid. But as he looked down at the wrapper screaming Pineapple Punch at him, he couldn’t help but feel like they meant something. And he wanted to tell you. 

He wanted to tell you how he had never really cared for the color yellow, or even any of its flavors. He wanted to tell you how you changed that. Yellow changed from the color of caution to a hopeful hue. Yellow became your color; bright and warm and happy and beautiful. It was as attention grabbing as before, except now you had all of his. Even as he continued twirling the candy wrapper between his fingers, Okarun was glancing up at you. One of his stares met with yours and his eyes widened as he noticed you had something to say.

“Do you want another one? I have more and I know you like the yellow ones,” you smiled at him. Okarun froze as he realized he’d listed his wrapper up into your view by accident. If only you knew how much he likes the yellow ones. He simply nodded at you and held out his hands when you gestured for him to. What happened next sent Okarun into a fit of laughter.

You had revealed a plentiful pile of candies, all yellow, from your pockets and dumped them into his waiting hands. A few of the treats plopped onto the table due to not being able to fit in his palms. Okarun curled his hands up around the candy, even more falling out, and giggled. He chuckled and chortled at the sheer amount of exclusively yellow candy you’d just given him. You did know how much he liked the yellow ones. Once he’d finished his giggle-fit, Okarun looked back up at you and grinned at your confused face.

Without saying a word, he pulled out the countless yellow candy wrappers from his pockets and spread them across the table. At this, your face broke out into a smile, too. Not wanting to miss his chance, Okarun spoke first.

“I’ve kept these,” he started, face hurting from smiling, “because they remind me of you.” 

“I keep these because they make me think of you,” you mirrored his sentiment. Okarun smiled - he had never stopped - and slid one of the unopened candies over to you. He watched you pick it up and unwrap it, popping it in your mouth. He followed your action, grabbing and eating one himself.

“What flavor did you get?” He leaned over the table to peek. You straightened out the wrapper and held it up to him.

“Lemony Love,” you gaze at him past the wrapper. “You?”

“Same.”

[charlesslut16]

-maybe i should stop pretending...-

summary : you are in a relationship and give everything but your partner.... does not, so oscar is there...

PAIRINGS : oscar piastri x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : I hope that you like this and that i did it right, i am so sorry that i forgot to post this, thank you so much for requesting @jude-duarte-wannabe ❤️❄️

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

It was the middle of December, and while most of the world was buzzing with the excitement of the holiday season, you found yourself feeling unusually distant from it all.

You had just finished wrapping your last batch of presents for your partner, making sure to pick out the most thoughtful, expensive gifts you could afford. After all, you were always the one putting in the effort. But this year, something felt... off.

Your partner was wonderful in their own way, but their lack of enthusiasm toward your relationship was becoming harder to ignore. You had been giving and giving, buying extravagant gifts, planning special dates, but the love and care were never quite returned. The effort you put into making everything perfect always seemed to go unnoticed, and it was beginning to wear you down.

At least you had Oscar.

Oscar Piastri, your best friend, the one person who had always been there for you. You and Oscar had been friends for years—there wasn’t a time in your life when he hadn’t been by your side, cheering you on, offering advice, and making you laugh when everything felt heavy. You were closer than close, sharing secrets, late-night conversations, and a bond that no one could break.

And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different this year. Oscar had been quieter than usual, his usual teasing replaced with moments of awkward silence. You weren’t sure what it was, but it felt like there was something he wasn’t telling you.

Tonight, you had invited him over to help you decorate your apartment. The tree was up, the fairy lights twinkled around the windows, and the scent of gingerbread filled the air. It was supposed to be festive and fun, but the weight of your emotions was pressing down on you. You wanted everything to be perfect, but you couldn’t escape the gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Oscar, ever the good friend, was hanging ornaments on the tree, clearly trying his best to make light of the mood. He had his signature easygoing smile plastered on his face, but there was something in his eyes that made you wonder if he was feeling the same distance you were.

“So, what’s the plan for Christmas Eve?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder as you finished wrapping a gift.

“I’m spending it with my partner,” you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral. “You?”

“Same,” he answered, his voice a little too casual. You could tell he wasn’t really focused on the question. “You know, you’ve been running around, doing all this stuff for them,” he said, nudging you lightly. “I hope they’re at least appreciative.”

You blinked, surprised by the edge in his tone. “Of course they are,” you said, brushing it off, though you couldn’t ignore the tiny pang in your chest.

“Yeah,” Oscar said softly, his gaze shifting to the floor. “I hope so.”

The conversation lapsed into an awkward silence, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Oscar was picking up on something you hadn’t quite acknowledged yourself. Maybe it was just your overactive imagination, but you could feel the weight of something unspoken between you two.

As the evening went on, the apartment filled with the soft glow of candles and the hum of Christmas music. But no matter how hard you tried to focus on the joy of the season, you kept feeling that emptiness creep up again. It was hard to ignore how you were giving everything to a relationship that didn’t feel reciprocated, and how the one person who truly understood you was just a little too quiet.

Eventually, your partner arrived, a little later than you had expected. They didn’t seem to notice your quiet mood or the lack of enthusiasm in their own demeanor as they entered the room, offering you a half-hearted hug and a quick peck on the cheek.

“Hey,” they said, their tone flat. “Everything looks great. Thanks for all the hard work.”

You forced a smile, but inside, you couldn’t help but feel the distance growing between you. “Of course. I wanted it to be perfect.”

Oscar, noticing the shift in energy, excused himself to grab a drink from the kitchen. You tried to make small talk with your partner, but the conversation felt stiff, like you were both just going through the motions.

Then, a soft voice broke through the tension. Oscar was standing in the doorway, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Well, I think it’s time for the annual mistletoe kiss, don’t you?” he teased, pointing above your head where a sprig of mistletoe hung from the doorframe.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Come on,” Oscar said, his smile widening. “You can’t skip out on tradition.”

You laughed awkwardly, but there was a nervous edge to it. You weren’t sure what it was about the mistletoe that suddenly made your heart race. Was it the alcohol in the air? The Christmas music? Or maybe it was just the fact that Oscar was standing so close, his blue eyes glinting with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

Oscar stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he bent down, his lips brushing against your cheek. It was a soft, tender gesture, a kiss that lingered just a little longer than usual. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you forgot everything else—the awkwardness, the distance between you and your partner, the emptiness you’d been feeling.

When Oscar pulled back, his expression softened, and you could see a flicker of something in his eyes. Something more than just friendship.

“Alright, alright, no need to make it weird,” he joked, breaking the tension. But there was a softness in his voice now, something that felt different.

As Oscar turned to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had just shifted between you. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind racing to process the kiss. It was just a silly tradition, right? Just a joke between friends. But why did it feel so different? And why did it feel like your heart was caught in a vice?

You stood there for a moment, trying to gather yourself. Your partner was talking to you, but you could barely hear their words. Instead, all you could think about was Oscar—the way his lips had brushed against yours, the softness of his touch, the unspoken tension that seemed to hang in the air.

And then, it hit you.

Oscar was in love with you. You’d never seen it before, never realized the depth of his feelings, but it was there, unmistakable in the way he had looked at you after the kiss. The way he had been there for you, time and time again, always putting you first.

But you weren’t sure if you were ready to acknowledge that truth—not with the relationship you were still trying to make work, not when you couldn’t even figure out what you truly wanted.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss beneath the mistletoe, the one that had felt like it carried so much more meaning than you’d ever expected.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop pretending.

[sweetiesicheng]

joshua - translator

word count : 908

happy birthday to lovely joshua ~

-

"excuse me?" you look up and see a guy standing in front of you. "hi, i'm joshua. i'll be your translator for this interview," he greets, holding his hand out to you.

"oh, hi. nice to meet you," you say and shake his hand. "will you be sitting next to me?" you ask.

he nods, "yea. with how the camera is, i won't be seen on tv," he mentions. "if you need any explanations, just let me know. i'm sure you've seen most of the questions already."

"actually, i haven't seen any of them yet. i know the usual questions though, so i should be fine," you say to him.

"you sure you don't want a peek?" he offers, holding out a stack of papers that he has in one hand.

"well...one peek wouldn't hurt," you reply, making both of you laugh.

joshua hands you some papers from the stack. the papers are filled with interview questions with the english translation sitting beneath each question.

"i doubt we'll have enough time to go through all of these. it’s just the ones that some of the staff wrote," joshua says to you. "oh, i marked these out," he mentions, "these are about you. these are about your concert. the ones at the bottom are kind of obscure questions."

you look over the questions for a bit and hand the papers back to joshua.

"thanks," you say to him.

"yea, no problem. i'll be going now. i'll see you out there," he says with a smile.

"okay, see ya," you reply.

joshua leaves the room. you look over the schedule while your manager checks over some things with the stage crew. one of your stylists fixes your makeup while another one fixes your performance outfit since one of the appliqués got loose from a different performance.

eventually, the show starts and you wait for your cue. when it's your turn, you walk on stage, waving to the audience before greeting the host.

you go through simple introductions and listen to the host talk about you and your new song that you're promoting. you can't understand most of what the host is saying, but while the host is talking, joshua comes out and sits next to you.

the interview goes smoothly since joshua translates everything for you, and the host is a really nice person. the studio audience seems to love you, which makes you feel happy knowing that you have fans in another country.

after the interview, you change into another outfit and get ready to perform your new song as well as one of your songs from your last mini album.

you have a ton of fun performing with your crew and end your appearance on a high note. the host says a few more things before another break happens.

"excuse me, these are from the crew," joshua says, appearing in the hallway when you go further backstage. he holds a gift bag with the show's logo on it.

"oh thank you!" you immediately reply as joshua hands the bag to you, "this is so sweet of everyone." you peek in the bag and see a few items. "please give everyone my gratitude. everyone here is so nice, and i'm really glad that you were my translator today."

joshua smiles at you, "glad i could help. i'm trying to work my way up, so maybe i'll see you at another recording.”

"i'll just ask if there's a joshua at all of my shoots while i'm here then," you say to him, leaving the two of you laughing.

"well, if you need a translator for anything else. i could probably find time," he suddenly offers.

"actually?"

"wait, are you being serious now?"

"you're the one that just offered to be my translator!" you laugh. "okay, you're coming with me! let's see if my manager agrees," you say and grab his arm.

—

"i'm confused."

you and joshua sit on the couch in his apartment. you have takeout containers on the table and a notebook in your hands with all of your notes for learning new words. both your handwriting and joshua's handwriting are littered all over the pages, and it makes you surprised how you can still read everything.

"you say that a lot when i teach you," joshua says to you. you lightly smack his arm. "okay, ow."

"you're too buff for that to hurt," you say to him. you circle the word you're having trouble on with a pen. "how am i saying it wrong?" you ask.

"you're saying this word instead of that," joshua says, pointing to two words on the page. "actually, it sounds like you're in between these two sounds. i guess you kind of have an accent if anything."

you groan, laying your head on his lap. "i give up learning. my brain is too fried with all of the languages i've been using lately."

"hey, you're supposed to have this interview all on your own, remember?" joshua says, moving your notebook onto the table.

"it's your fault for having to be on that music video shoot."

"i'm sorry that i got a better job?"

"that doesn't sound sincere."

joshua leans in and kisses you. "i'm sorry that i can't accompany my very smart and talented girlfriend to her recording at a music show while her boyfriend is working on a music video set."

"you owe me more kisses."

he chuckles, "you got it."

[reignpage]

Hi Reign! I am wondering what your op’s and their respective fella’s breakfast order is? How do they take their eggs? Are they a waffle or pancake person?

I hope the silliness of this question takes some pressure away from writing. You deserve a break, we will all be here for once you’re feeling it again. Colleges / Universities give us breaks all the time so if you need to do that - do it! Treat yourself / do what you need to do for you.

🫶🏼

that's so thoughtful of you thank you so much 😭

gojo and reader

they fight over this a lot actually. gojo is a pancakes person (lathered in syrup, practically drowning in it) and reader is a waffles person. they argue over which is superior. gojo says pancakes is far more iconic and the staple of breakfast culture whereas reader says waffles are infinitely better because of the texture and the fun shape.

secretly, they both see each other's points, they just like to argue

geto and reader

geto really only has black coffee for breakfast and a cig very French of him. reader gets cute little açai bowls and tries to feed geto but he'll only humour her with a bite or two. reader doesn't really like eggs because she thinks about how they were supposed to be babies. she's not a vegetarian cause she loves steak but she does eat like one most days. geto likes over easy eggs on toast. straightforward, easy and quick

choso and reader

they eat anything these two. in fact, what they often do at restaurants is order two mains for sharing cause they want to try everything. for breakfast, they often go to the local deli in true art student fashion, very in touch with the community and whatever. reader is even on a first name basis with the owner. she gets salmon and cream cheese with chives bagel, and choso gets English breakfast bagel. reader always takes a bite of his first, she calls it the girlfriend tax

toji and reader

two different lifestyles. toji is very healthy surprisingly? you'd assume he's a typical college guy and has a diet like one, but he's very disciplined actually. he eats raw eggs and protein shakes in the morning. reader eats cereal that's way too sugary and provides little to no nutritional value. toji's tried to convert her but she's pretty adamant. she likes her coco pops too much.

nanami and reader

nanami likes black coffee or tea in the morning with something light and quick like toast and butter. sometimes he doesn't even eat because he just doesn't feel any hunger in the mornings and he has places to be. reader is a big eater. she loves bacon, sunny side up eggs, the whole shebang on weekends when she has time. she also drinks smoothies. she has an intuition when it comes to nanami eating breakfast, somehow she just knows when he hasn't eaten any. so she'll pop by the lab or wherever he is and drop off a breakfast bagel or a bento box.

sukuna and reader

they drink the blood of virgins first thing. then they feast on the hearts of newborns. it's how they maintain their youthful glow and uncanny beauty. I'm kidding. or am I? well, neither of them really eat breakfast. always too busy but when they do have time, sukuna eats a full English breakfast and complains the entire time how greasy it is even though he always has two servings. reader is kinda like an almond mum. she eats a fruit bowl and one soft boiled egg.

[deadlysoupy]

DATV banter if my Rook (Urchin) was a companion 1/?

~~

Neve: You’re jittery in Dock Town. What’s got you worried?

Rook: Isn’t everyone jittery in Dock Town? I’m surprised no one stole your leg while you were walking.

Neve: You’re dodging my question.

Rook: If I said it was the smell, would you accept that?

Neve: Hm. All right, good enough.

Rook: Oh, no. I told you too much, didn’t I? You’re already theorising.

Neve: (laughs) Perhaps.

~~

Neve: Rook, I beg of you, please stop poking fun at our enemies. One insult can cost you your life, some day.

Rook: Hey, they already hate us. What’s the point in holding back?

Neve: The point is that you infuriate them even more. You’re drawing attention to yourself.

Rook: I think that’s the idea.

Neve: Just… (sighs) Be careful, okay? Step on the wrong people’s toes…

Rook: Don’t worry. If I do step on their toes, they’ll know not to mess with someone who has this many friends.

Neve: I’m amazed and scared of your confidence.

~~

Lucanis: You would have been a good assassin, Rook.

Rook: Eh, too much work. And the blood is so difficult to wash off.

Lucanis: That’s why we wear leather.

Rook: The leather is nice. You look incredible in it.

Lucanis: I… appreciate the compliment. But is style really the only thing stopping you from being an assassin? You’re already an honorary Crow.

Rook: It’s good money, that’s for sure. But… I don’t like killing. Not by choice. I kill for survival, not greed.

Lucanis: I don’t kill for money, either.

Rook: I know.

Lucanis: But I understand. If you need work, or a place to sleep…

Rook: I know who to ask.

~~

Rook: Lucanis, I’ve noticed you hold your daggers more upwards. Is that comfortable?

Lucanis: The tilt makes it easier for me to slice. Why?

Rook: It’s not how I do it. Maybe you could show me? I always plunge the dagger in too deep. Ends up a mess.

Lucanis: Sure. What brought this on?

Rook: I don’t know… the Crows are so elegant at killing. It’s mesmerising.

Lucanis: I’ll make sure to tell the other Crows that Rook likes them. But yes, we certainly are taught style fairly early on. How is it with the Lords?

Rook: It’s… different. Okay, fine, I don’t really know.

Lucanis: How come?

Rook: Isabela taught me, no one else bothered to… or could get close to me. I guess I’ve simply developed her techniques.

Lucanis: All right. We can train together and exchange skills. Might be good practice.

~~

Taash: So. You and Isabela.

Rook: Uh-oh.

Taash: What?

Rook: Who told you? How did you find out?

Taash: Woah, slow down. I don’t know anything. But I do want to know now. Are you doing it?

Rook: What! Taash!

Taash: Ugh, what! Isn’t that what you were afraid of?

Rook: (sighs) No. I’m… Isabela practically raised me, Taash. Get your head out of the gutter.

Taash: O-oh. Sorry. Why didn’t you tell me in the first place, then? I thought we trusted each other. You met my mom. Holy shit, I met your mom!

Rook: (laughs) Well, I didn’t tell you because we’re not really official or anything. You know how she is. No touchy-feely stuff.

Taash: Yeah. I get it.

~~

Taash: Why do you wear Tevinter clothes? I thought you were a Lord.

Rook: Tevinter has style. Good colours, comfortable. Lets me appear like a normal citizen.

Taash: But you’re not Tevinter. Why hide where you really come from?

Rook: Taash, it’s Tevinter. I’m an elf. You really find nothing wrong with me wearing flashy Rivain clothes in gloomy, dark Dock Town? Without anyone bothering me?

Taash: (grunts) I guess that’s true. You ever tried, though? What if they’re cool?

Rook: I don’t want to risk it. Not hearing “knife-ear” every minute and just pretending I belong to someone is better.

Taash: Oh. That’s vashedan. I’m sorry they treat your people like that.

Rook: It gets worse, but thanks.

~~

Rook: Bel, did you adjust the rope yesterday?

Bellara: Oh, no, sorry. I didn’t have the time. The Nadas Dirthallen was acting up again. Sorry.

Rook: Hey, it’s okay! Take your time.

Bellara: We can do it together after we get back! What do you need the targets for, anyway?

Rook: I want to try throwing knives. No one’s ever taught me, and I saw a few Crows practising. If I could toss the bomb and then follow up with a knife throw, it would be much more effective than a timed bomb!

Bellara: Oh. Wait, hold on! That’s dangerous! What about collateral damage or friendly fire?

Rook: Eh. I’ll work those out on the fly. Don’t have much time to practice, anyway. But I’ll warn you if it helps?

Bellara: Uh… okay. I’ll tell the others to watch out for “sky bombs”.

Rook: O-o-oh, good name!

~~

Bellara: Rook, how are your burns? Do you need more healing salves? Should I bring some to your room?

Rook: (laughs) Bel, you’re fine. I’m fine! I’ve dealt with worse when I was just starting out. Messing with all this magic is new, but we’ll get there.

Bellara: I still feel bad. I asked you for help.

Rook: And I agreed! So no hard feelings. It’s not like you wanted for the core to explode. Unless…

Bellara: Rook! Of course I didn’t!

Rook: I was just messing with you. But there you go, then.

~~

Rook: Hey. What has an eye, but can’t see?

Davrin: Oh, please don’t.

Rook: Come o-on.

Davrin: Ugh. Fine. What?

Rook: A fsh!

Davrin: (sighs) I hate you, you know that? I already feel new wrinkles forming on my face!

Assan: (laughing squawk)

Rook: Aw, thanks, Assan! At least someone appreciates me around here.

Davrin: I can’t tell who’s worse: you or Assan.

Davrin: Hey, Rook…

Rook: If it’s about your bed, it was Assan!

Davrin: I… what?

Rook: (laughs) Sorry, what were you gonna say?

Davrin: No. Please, do go on. What was that about my bed?

Rook: I’ll never tell.

Davrin: Fine. Then I’ll look the other way when Assan tries to play with your jewelry next time.

Rook: He’s been doing that?

Davrin: Among other things. Talk.

Rook: (sighs) I’ve been… napping on your bed when you’re gone.

Davrin: You what?

Rook: It’s really soft! And dark. It’s like I’m in a cave. Reminds me of the ruins.

Davrin: Hm. Well. If you ask, I might let you switch with me sometimes. I have always wondered what sleeping in your room is like.

Rook: I’ll let you see for yourself. And… thanks, Davrin.

Davrin: Just don’t go around mentioning this to anyone, got it?

Rook: My lips are sealed.

[beannary]

Now that 2024 is coming to a close:

1) Of everything you've made this year, which ones are you the most proud of?

2) What are a few of your favorite things (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

this has been a really difficult question to answer because overall i haven't felt very good about my art this past year. I wasn't able to make as much art as I wanted to, specifically like I wasnt able to update tlp as much as I wanted to so I really put off looking back at my art till the very last second. but I was able to find some pieces that Im really happy with!

this one I did for one of the au competitions earlier this year

this is a commission i did for my friend ArapaimaaGigas on twitch!

this is something i did for a competition but I never ended up finishing it so I didnt submit it but I still really like it

and this is a little thing that i havent finished of a tlp pokemon trainer au that i made when i was replaying pokemon shield

2. this is also a really hard question because people have made such good art this year! it's hard for me to list everything that ive really enjoyed but what comes first to mind is The Canary Continuity by quolden, Must Have Been Shark Teeth by anonymous, and Euthanasia by marizousbooty,

for art though i think the piece that would take the cake is this one by @dianagj-art which was part of this prank I played on @intotheelliwoods i think that whole thing was one of my most favorite things of the year it was so much fun to orchestrate

anyways thanks for your ask! i always really love getting them, theyre so much fun to answer!

[romanarose]

"If I'm Being Honest" Lie #1: "I don't like you."

An Omegaverse/romcom enemies to lovers idiots in love slowburn found family type shit. graphic design is my passion themed header is a little more intional this time but lord knows i can't edit XD

Alpha!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

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Summary: If Logan is being honest, he didn't like you. If you were being honest, you didn't either. But, if you were both being honest, you were exactly what you needed.

Warnings: Currently nothing? Will update as I go, but everyone's canon trauma is liable to be discussed.

A/n: I have built a reputation on here for series that are very serious, that deal with themes of severe depression, sexual assault, abuse, etc. I wanted to try my hand at something new, something lighthearted. the Omegaverse stuff won't have a HUGE part in it, it's just another aspect I wanted to add. As i wrote it, I realized it has a romcom vibe, so that's what I'm leaning into. I want to have fun with this! i write so much heavy stuff, a little change is nice. thank you so much to @xdaddysprincessxx for encouraging me to venture out, ily.

1.7k words

Reblogs are the only way to really spread works here, tumblr does not have an algorithm. Every single like is loved and appreciated, comments mean the whole world and keep me writing, but reblogs are how we share on here and create community.

Support artists, reblog works.

Multiple alternating POVs

***

If Logan was being honest, in the moment he just wanted to fuck you. Years later, to other more romantic types like Remy or Kurt, he would say it was love at first sight. He wouldn't say you were being a bit of a cunt, and the comment on his hair was unnecessary.

If you were being honest, wanted him to leave you alone, and were thankful he did. Later, to Remy and Kurt, you would say that you secretly wished he’d try again, although Logan wasn’t the type to linger where he wasn’t wanted. You say it was love at first sight, although if you were being honest, you thought his leather jacket was too wanna be James Dean, and his hair looked stupid. 

When Logan saw you in that bar, the bit-too crowded one that was the only spot he could go to where they didn’t recognize him from the mutant school 50 miles away, he thought, Well, she’ll do.

Jean had chosen Scott, and Logan wasn’t going to just sit around the mansion moping all day. Even if he still harboured feelings, he wanted her to be happy, and frankly, he wanted Scott to be too. He wasn’t a bad guy, he was just married to the woman Logan loved. And was rather annoying. But again, not bad. 

Logan just needed a nice, wet hole to sink into, and you were more than attractive enough for his tastes. Stunning, even, and just a little bit terrifying. You were a beta; he could smell the lack of alpha or omega pheromones, and you were devoid of either. All the better, omegas were so… clingy.

You, on the other hand, cursed yourself when you accidentally caught his eyes. Great. You think to yourself. Now he probably thinks you’re staring.

You weren’t! Not at that moment, anyway. If you were being honest, after he took the hint and went on his way, you did take a few glances for the ole spank bank. No harm no foul.

“Hey.” The man said as he leaned against the bar counter, and you snort through your nose.

“Really? That's the best you got?” You make a twirling motion with your finger. “Turn around, try again.”

He makes a funny face, but turns around anyway. When he faces you again, he doesn’t lean on the counter but rather takes a seat. “Uh. Hello?”

You facepalm, laughing. “This isn’t gonna work.”

The man takes the laughter in stride. “Yeah, not my best work. Can I at least buy you a drink?”

Another weak move. “You can, but I’m not gonna sleep with you.”

Not deterred, he buys the next round. “Name’s James.” He gave you his hands and waited expectantly, but even though you shook it you dodged the name question hanging in the air. 

“Sorry, buddy, I swore off Jimmy’s about 2 Jimmy’s ago.”

A slight frown, but nothing that seemed to indicate trouble. “Luckily, I’m not a Jimmy, I’m a James.”

“Okay.” You spoke almost patronizingly. “Never met a James that wore kitty ears, but okay.”

James looked like he was stewing on something, opened his mouth to retort an insult, but thought better of it. He attempted to smooth back the curls, but it didn’t work. He mumbled something about a cowlick before looking back at you as you laughed.

“You’re not playfully teasing me, are you?” it wasn’t a question.

“Nah, honey. I’m making fun of you.”

“Welp.” He slaps his hands on the bar counter, sitting up. It wasn’t an aggressive move, he meant it playful himself, but it still made you startle. “I can see where I’m not wanted. Keep the drink, sweetheart.” He winked, and left you alone.

Fuck, his pants were tight.

Logan moved on to talking up some girl that actually seemed interested, but if he were being honest, and he’d never admit this, but he kept looking back to you. As much as he wanted to get his dick wet and this new girl was pretty, he couldn’t get his mind off you. Logan was not rejected often. It wasn’t that his ego was bruised, okay maybe a little, but you were just so interesting. His senses were telling him he needed to notice something about you, but not trouble. He didn’t know what that meant, but the next time he looked over he saw a man making his move on you.

Good luck, bub. He thought to himself, then looked back at the cute girl. She seemed flexible. An omega, which meant he’d probably have to make an escape while she was sleeping, but she’d be eager to please. Oh yeah, this was gonna be a good-

*CRASH!*

Annnnnnd there it was. Can’t have nothing nice. He stepped in front of the blonde, what was her name again?, and looked to scout out the situation just in time to see you clock a man in the jaw hard enough to send him back. Good job there, girlie. Logan didn’t want trouble, and you seemed to be handling it so he didn’t step in just yet… but out of nowhere came the guy's friend with a barstool and clocked it over your head.

“Hey!” Logan shouted, distracting the man enough as he was about to kick you a third time in the face. Just as he dove and took him down, Logan heard the crowd gasp. After knocking the buddy out, Logan looked up to see if the first man wanted a piece of him next, only to see him staring in shock.

You were blue. Your skin, your hair, and the sliver of your eyes he could see, all blue. 

“MUTANT!” The fucking hillbilly shouts, and Logan isn’t an idiot. There’s trouble coming.

Without thinking, he scoops up your limp body and dashes you outside as men gather like an old timey mod.

He places you on the front of his bike, one strong arm holds you up and kicks the stand of the bike. Back to the mansion.

Another goddamn stray. Can’t keep them off me.

The gates opened as his bike rode up the twisted roads over half an hour later. Good thing the bike was registered to Scott, because if he got clocked speeding, it was bordering on reckless driving. 

Despite being in a hurry, Logan made sure to kick the stand up after riding the bike right up to the steps. He didn’t want the engine flooded. Then whose bike would he steal?

Bursting into the entrance, he finds Scott in a blue and yellow button down PJ set, sleep mask on and arms crossed. “You have GOT to stop-” Then Scott see’s you, passed out, bloody faced, and blue bodied, and senses the urgency.

He grabs Logan, shoving him to get to the medbay ASAP. Logan could run much fastert than Scott, even with your weight, but Scott was behind him. “JEEAANNN!”. The yelling was more to get it out in his mind, no doubt communicating with her in there to get to the bed medbay, which was near their bedroom.

By the time Logan got there, Jean was already setting up. She was in a robe, forest green and silky, something Scott probably got for her, the thoughtful fuck. Annoyingly, it was long, covering up those legs. That was also probably intensional on Scott’s part. Jean was in boxers. Probably Scotts, and she liked to sleep in skimpy cami’s. On second thought, the gift was probably more Scott keeping her wrapped up considering how many times Jean gets called to the med bay in the middle of the night.

“Tell me everything you know.”

Logan half panicked. He didn’t actually know anything. “I don’t really know. I talked to her briefly at the bar but that’s it.”

Green eyes flashed up at him, then back down. Jean knew what he was doing. “Did you sleep with her yet?”

He didn’t really know why THAT was relevant. 

“No, she rejected me too.” Well, that was a bit bitter. Logan corrected himself. Not the time. “Uh, fuck, she’s a mutant.”

Jean stopped, then dropped her shoulders as she deadpanned. “I couldn’t tell.” She could get a little snarky when under stress, so Logan let that roll off his back and she hooked you up to some monitors.

“She got into a bar fight, one guy hit her over the head with a stool, that's when she blacked out. Another kicked her face before I got there. One to the nose, one to the forehead.”

Jean nodded, this was the information she needed. 

“Steal toed books by the looks of it, got her pretty good. Anything else?”

“She turned blue a little after passing out, and she’s a beta.”

She placed her hands over the woman's body. “She probably can hide her mutation if she’s conscious about it. Knocking her out took away that defense.”

Just then, Scott entered the room, finally catching up. You’d think with those long legs he’d be faster, but running isn't his strong suit. “How is she?”

“Stable, but I need one of you to put the gauze on her head, she’s still bleeding.” Scott found the materials needed and applied gentle pressure. “Heart rate is good, but she’s unconscious still. Logan how long has it been?”

“45 minutes maybe?”

She swears under her breath. “Well, that’s not great. Let me get into her head.” After a few minutes, she relaxes a little bit. “Okay. Not traumatic brain injury. It’s a moderate concussion. She’ll need some rest but she’ll be okay, it seems.”

“Any sign of a healing factor?” Scott asks, but Jean shakes her head.

“If it is, it’s nothing like yours,” She nods to Logan. “or even Remy. Or like Remy, she needs to be conscious about it.” Jean put down her hands. “There’s not much I can do right now. It’s best to let her wake up naturally, unless this goes longer than a day. I’ll keep monitering-”

Your eyes flashed open, blue and glowing lightly, gasping a little for breath. When you saw Logan and Scott of one side of the bed, the confusion grew to panic. “Shit!” You try to roll off the bed, away from them, but are either too out of it still or too tied up in monitors to make it far. You fall, and Jean catches you. Logan moved to go to you, but Scott held him back. Logan didn’t know why

“Hey, hey it’s alright, you’re safe here.” You calm more after seeing her, letting Jean sit you down.

When you look up at Scott and Logan again, you lock eyes with the older man. To their surprise, you roll your eyes, “Oh great. This fucking guy again.”

If Logan was being honest, he didn’t like you very much.

**********

thank you so so much for giving this a chance!!!I had a lot of fun writig this, which isn't something ive said a lot lately.

I originally was on my drive back from my parents like "i wanna write omegaverse" it was originally gonna be a lot more serious, but as i was planning and thinking it just ended up having a sillier vibe.

It will still have more serious themes here and there, but nothing like what i usually do. Im very nervous. The most lighthearted series ive ever done was the DBF joel series but that was more a series of one shots. And awakening was goofy and silly sometimes but was also pretty heavily about the beauty of coming out later in life, finding yourself, exploring sexuality, and deep trust.

This fic is playing on the rom com vibes. Idiots in love. Enemies to lovers. I hope you guys like it. Prinny says she think it'll be good for me to have something lighter, considering how much dark fics and dark themes i do.

I know I was talking about the series with my OC sadie summers and logan and thats still in the works, but there were some kinks i needed to work out that I havn't yet before i can go foreward. Fen and I are almost done with IYWBW, and when that done ill start on the benny miller x oc series for the final installment of Leather and lace universe!!!

and eventually, EVENTUALLY i will get that final chapter of ROF done. its just HARD (like my dick)

peace and love girlies (gn)

if you want to be added to my general logan content, check out the taglist linked above, but if you want to be added to this series, comment below!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @miraclesabound

[shutupsade]

casual || suguru geto/reader [01]

Synopsis: It's your final semester in college, and the fear of missing out has compelled you to do something new - to be someone else. Your quest takes you to the basement of Suguru Geto, an infamous party boy who'd earned the devotion of half the campus. He's otherwordly beautiful, but there's no way he would ever be interested in someone like you... right? As long as you keep it casual, that is.

Tags: suguru/reader, slow burn, eventual smut, very angst, modern!au, haibara lives, college!au, opposites attract vibe.

a/n: nothing spicy in this one, but we need to set the scene, I hope you enjoy, this is my first fic after a very long writing break and I just wanted to write something. Thank you <3 ~ sade

w/c: 4.8K

"So this is it then, huh?"

The wintry air was bitterly cold as the wind picked up, crystalline snowflakes falling soundlessly from the overcast evening sky. Suguru stood in front of you, his hands shoved in his pockets while his expression remained unreadable. For a moment, it was hard to tell if it was snowing harder or if your vision was simply blurring from the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. There was a bitter taste in your mouth, a nagging sense of disappointment gnawing at your stomach as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. You were warned, dozens of times, not to go nosing around in Suguru's complex world. But still, the temptation had been too great, and lost within your own illusion, you'd failed to notice the signs as they piled up in front of you.

"I don't know what you expected," He offered, shrugging his shoulders.

Hell, it wasn't like you expected different, deep down. Yet still, you felt owed something. Some kind of explanation after all this time that might perhaps make sense of the pain growing in your chest. You didn't want to believe the obvious, no, you couldn't. The Suguru you'd come to know wasn't the same one everyone spoke about, he wasn't the same party boy you'd met all those months ago. He was different - he is different.

"Why though, we were having fun, it was casual-"

"It doesn't really matter though, does it," He questioned, gazing around campus with avid interest.

"Like hell it doesn't!"

You're standing there huffing, crying harder as your brain realizes what's happening. How silly it all felt now, thinking that he could be anything different. Suguru Geto, a party boy whose two interests were alcohol and sex, preferably both at once. Was it the chase? The satisfaction of getting something he wanted, something hard earned? From kind words and late nights, he'd earned your trust and devotion - and suddenly overnight you became just like a string of his other hookups. A bitter ex.

"You said casual, I gave you casual. No strings attached, remember," He challenged, raising his eyebrows, "we agreed to break it off if things changed."

Still, you wanted to plead. Couldn't you just return to the start, before you got too close? Before you came to know a part of him that seemed invisible to the rest of the world, your own private Suguru who only shined when you did. Was it all casual, every kiss, every heartfelt touch, every time he ever fell asleep pressed to the cinderblock walls of your dorm room? Was it casual when he showed you his favorite songs and made a mixtape for you?

Which one of you toed the line first, though?

Was it you by accepting his initial invitation, having known the entire time that you always secretly hoped for something more? Was it delusion, or hope, that made you believe in a different version of him that was unlike the one everyone else knew?

"I have to go," Suguru said, nodding his head towards the maze of buildings behind him, "I have a meeting with one of my professors."

He doesn't wait for your response, turning his back towards you as he threaded through the snow. It fell harder now, the late December sky devoid of any meaningful light. You tried not to feel bitter, tried to remind yourself that you were prepared for this reality. Hell, maybe you were naive, an outsider to his strange world, destined to always watch from the window. Why did you feel so paralyzed, standing alone in the snow as you watched him retreat?

When did it start, when did everything change, could you ever go back to before? Even if it meant always keeping him at a distance?

The distant hum of a thundering bass track echoes down the empty pathways of campus, a mix of sweaty bodies spilling out of a two story home. It sits on the edge of campus, nothing special yet definitely the nicest on the block when considering the standard of college rentals. It was larger than the others, the only two story, and it was currently known by its reputation as 'the party house'. If you were looking to get drunk on the weekends, you'd walk over and you were almost always guaranteed to find a party happening. This weekend, however, was a special occasion - it was the start of the semester blow out, which meant that almost everyone who knew was going.

You stood on the sidewalk in front of the house, gnawing on the inside of your cheek as a gust of late August air swept past your exposed skin. The dress you'd bought on impulse was shorter than you were used to, but any fear you might have had dulled as you saw the numerous mini skirts and tight crop tops. It was the start of something new, a chance to be someone different in order to shed yourself of a lingering sense of social isolation. It wasn't that you couldn't make friends, per say, but simply that you had a difficult time trusting others.

Sure, a college party might not have been the best place to find new friends, but it wasn't like you had to become best friends with these people. That was the beauty of college - there was no social pressure to remain friends.

More people spilled out from the open doorway clutching solo cups, their faces soft pink from intoxication. The bass track grew louder as you slowly made your way inside. There were at least a hundred people packed in the first floor alone, everybody blissfully in their own world. There was a group crowded around the television, some game you didn't recognize playing on the screen as people watched the progression. In the kitchen, the crowd was less dense, roughly ten that were speaking quietly amongst themselves around a litany of various alcohols.

The smell of marijuana was floating down from the basement, thin plumes of smoke rising up the stairwell as you ventured further down. The bulk of the party goers were down there, but the space sprawled out further than you anticipated. Colorful stage lights were placed meticulously around the room, illuminating the dark room in a rainbow of different shades. The stereo sat in the corner, speakers in each corner of the room rattling as people shouted over the music to each other.

There was another alcohol table set up in one of the corners, and a couple kegs to either side of it. It was clear the hosts had spared no expense, but it was immediately obvious why the home had garnered the title of Party House. You'd heard of the hosts only in passing, seeing them a handful of times around campus. In your previous semester, you'd been too nervous to ever attempt going somewhere like that alone, so you'd mainly stuck inside your dorm. It wasn't that you weren't nervous now, of course, but you were hoping to latch on to the one or two familiar faces you were bound to find.

Almost immediately, your eyes find one such familiar face, but a pit of vexation claws its way inside your stomach at the sight of him. In the spring, you'd had the displeasure of having a class with one Satoru Gojo, who, despite his good looks, was one of the most annoying figures you'd encountered. He was overly confident, and dreadfully cocky, but most painfully - he was incredibly smart. It was hard to call him on anything without inspiring the ire of over half the women on campus.

He enjoyed interrupting classes immensely, one of those students who thought they knew more than the professor, and he would keep it going until he noticed the teacher was getting pissed. Then, he'd simply toss his arms up with a little grin and say, 'I'll surrender'. It made getting through any lecture a hassle but you weren't trying to get on the campus golden boy's bad side. It was easier to avoid him, and so you had - until now.

He stood behind the alcohol table as the bartender of sorts, only he'd stopped short of serving his guests as his attention was entirely focused on the woman standing before him. She had her fingers wrapped around the collar of his shirt, her lips ghosting over his as a dopey, love struck smile came over his face. It was amusing, almost, to see someone so confident become complete putty in someone's hand.

"Satoru!"

A heavy voice spread over the crowd from immediately behind you, the looming presence of a stranger abruptly close. You jumped on reflex, goosebumps rising to your arms as a hand pressed against the middle of your back. The figure moved forward, and almost immediately you were struck by his appearance. To say he was gorgeous was the understatement of the year, possibly the decade.

He was taller than the other party goers, with stark black hair that was wrapped up in a bun, strands falling and framing his face in the colorful light. It was almost ethereal, the way he turned to look at you over his shoulder as he moved past you. A strobe light was reflecting off the piercings in his ears, his eyes a dark yet warm mahogany brown. You were so taken by him that you almost missed him speaking directly to you.

"Sorry, doll."

He said it with a grin, and almost as quickly as he arrived, he was gone as he lurched through the crowd towards his friend. Satoru was pouting, his expression one of annoyance as the woman peered between the two of them.

"Whaaatt," He was whining, wrapping one arm around the woman.

You missed the rest of their conversation, their voices only a soft murmur amongst the loud voices at the party. You pulled a bottle from a tub filled with melting ice, not quite trusting the various hard liquors that had been passed around by everyone that night. On a small couch pressed to the wall, you were relieved once more to find your across the hallway dorm neighbor - Shoko.

She lounged cooly on the loveseat by herself, no one daring to approach as she took a slow drag from a cigarette perched between her fingers. She was speaking softly to another person sitting across from her. It was Haibara, a boy you'd had a handful of classes with in the previous semester. He was quiet, and you'd worked on a few projects with him during midterms. Not a remarkably noticeable character, but he did his work and was relatively kind, as far as you could tell.

Shoko's eyes drift over to you, lifting in surprise as she takes you in.

"You came out of the cave," She says cooly, a small small stretching across her features as she gestures to the seat beside Haibara.

You take the cue with gratitude, settling down in the empty seat as Haibara shoots you a welcoming smile.

"What made you wanna come here of all places," She asked.

"I just wanted to..."

You trailed off, pondering the real reason. Sure, you wanted to do something different but it was more than that. It was about proving to yourself that you weren't secretly just strange, to erase the alien feeling that you felt when trying to connect with people. You had friends back home - why was it so hard to do the same thing here? It was like a wall stood between you and anyone you tried to connect with, but it always followed the same pattern.

It would go well at first, exchanging absentminded small talk and sharing similar interests. Then without fail, you'd think about the interactions too hard and end up saying something weird or off putting, effectively killing your chances at friendship immediately. It was one thing to be weird in an established relationship, it was another thing to bring it full force right out of the gate. So, you opted mostly to remain silent.

"A drink," Shoko offers, as if sensing your internal discomfort.

"Yeah, definitely."

You open up the bottle - it's one of those low percentage wine coolers that tastes like an overly sweetened cherry cough medicine. The taste of alcohol is barely there, but it lingers at the back of your throat uncomfortably long as you try hard to appear more naturally in front of the crowd.

"I didn't know you two knew each other," Haibara says, "we had biology together last semester and got saddled with Mei for the final."

He groans at the memory, as you recall Mei - the only person on campus who might have been stranger than you felt. It worked for her, in a weird, off putting way, but only simply because she was conventionally attractive and had the confidence of a God. She was, however, an absolute scam artist and had paid someone else to do her portion of the final. Naturally, her portion had come on the final day for submissions, which had sent both you and Haibara into a panic as you exchanged frenzied texts in the group chat.

"Oh I would have complained," she said, laughing, "what a tragedy."

"She almost screwed us!"

The three of you fell into an easy rapport, milling over your upcoming classes as graduation loomed closer. Really, this is the semester you should be focusing on the most - but you'd spent 7 out of your 8 semesters holed up inside your dorm basically, attending few campus events. Sure, your grades were fantastic because of it, but you wanted to do something more before entering into full adulthood and post grad life. Something to remember the experience by that wasn't nights spent cramming over materials - something memorable and exciting.

"What are you gonna do post grad?"

The question is directed at you, both of them looking at you in curiosity.

"Something in business, probably."

You'd chosen a boring yet stable major, the stability of a predictable life far more appealing than something riskier with less opportunity. Growing up in chaos had motivated your internal desire, you'd had enough excitement already. This final semester was like the last hurrah, the goodbye to any partying era you might have.

"You're just like Nanami," Haibara says, grinning, "you remind me a lot of each other."

"You're so right," Shoko agrees, nodding her head encouragingly.

"He's already got a job lined up as a salaryman, he's so lucky..."

Nanami Kento, a name that rings a bell only after a few moments of reflection. He'd entered into university early, having graduated tech school a year earlier than any of his peers. Like you, he was relatively quiet and often sat in the front row of the few classes you shared together. He didn't seem to care for the college world of partying and reckless decisions - at twenty, he already seemed so much older. He would do well in the business world, you were sure of it.

"Maybe if you studied harder you'd have a job lined up," Shoko teased, "but you're here instead."

At that, Haibara blushes, crossing his arms over his chest in mock defiance. Shoko laughs, her voice pleasant among the music. You'd relaxed enough during the exchange to let your guard down, missing the way her eyes flickered just above your head, her hand raising in a greeting. You turned around, your breath catching in your throat once more as you stared at the boy with long hair from earlier. He wasn't looking at you this time, his attention focused surely on Shoko.

"Look at you being social," He teased, his voice like honey when paired with the vibrating bass, "come do pong with us."

She looks to you in invitation, quirking her eyebrows up. Haibara was pouting, disappointed not to have been chosen as you looked between the two of them in slight alarm. You'd never played beer pong before, doubting your skill against people who were very clearly more experienced. The stranger from before clapped one hand down against the back of the arm chair, turning his attention to you finally as he extended the other hand.

"Come on, we'll take it easy on you guys."

You have to remind yourself of your motivation, your desire to be more social as you reluctantly stand up. Shoko followed behind you, with Haibara gesturing you towards the table in the corner. Luckily, most people are in their own little worlds, staring at the table with only vague interest. Satoru was already standing on one end, lining up cups in a triangle before looking up to your arrival.

"You got two!"

You go to stand beside Shoko as she bounces a pong ball against the table, waiting for him to finish setting up.

"Listen, it's easy. Just sink the balls in their cup, Just don't think about it too hard."

It seemed like an impossible act, a reminder of how little she knows you. Still, you steel your nerves as Satoru tossed another ball towards you. You caught it easily, breathing a sigh of relief as you narrowed your gaze down the folding table. Shoko shot first, easily sinking her ball into one of the back cups with ease as the stranger fished it out with a slight grin.

"Don't think about it," Shoko urged.

You take her advice, acting on impulse as you shoot, watching in anticipation as it circles the rim of a cup, before trailing off, bouncing against the table and right into Satoru's hand.

"You're psyching her out, Sho," The stranger says.

At that, the stranger shoots, easily sinking a ball in one of your cups as Satoru does the same for Shoko. It feels almost unfair to be pit against two people who are very clearly experienced in playing. You're determined, however, fishing the ball from the cup as you take a long drink from the bottle, wincing slightly at the sweet cherry flavor. The pressure is on you again, but you take Shoko's advice and toss the ball before you have time to overthink it. To your pleasure, it falls almost immediately in the center cup, and beside you, Haibara starts cheering.

"Nice," the stranger purred, his head tilting back to expose his pale neck as he takes a drink, "you'll be a pro in no time.” 

You brighten up at his praise, giving him a gentle smile. Shoko seems proud, grinning as she sinks another ball. By now, people have begun to grow more interested in the game as you go back and forth, the cups on the table dwindling as you begin to feel looser and more confident. Much as you hate to admit it, Satoru was decent company while not in class, his bombastic personality suiting the party scene in a way that provides a never ending stream of amusement. 

“Hey, Shoko,” Your voice was a mere whisper as you leaned over towards her, watching from your peripheral vision as she tossed the pong ball. “Hm?” “Whose Satoru’s friend?” 

You were chewing the inside of your cheek, watching as the stranger’s face twisted with concentration, preparing his next shot. 

“Suguru,” She answered smoothly, “trust me on this one though, it’s not a hill you wanna climb.” 

There’s an undertone to her phrasing, a deeper expression taking hold of her usually bored face. There’s tension there, and you immediately back down, content with her answer. It made sense, much as you wanted to ignore the small tickle of disappointment that had flooded you. A party boy being messy, who could have guessed. He seemed more reserved than Satoru, unphased by the attention of others as he high fived his friend, gleeful at his successful shot. 

You take another long drink. At this point, you’re both evenly tied with three cups each. Suguru was watching you intensely, waiting for your next move as you took a deep breath, watching as the ball missed completely, bouncing off the table as Shoko cursed quietly next to you, missing her own shot as it bounces off Satoru’s torso. 

“You tryna tell me something,” He chuckles, right before missing his own shot. 

“Flop,” Haibara retorted, Suguru elbowing him lightly as he sunk another ball. 

At this point, you’re determined to win, so close to victory and desperate to prove that you can. You tossed yours at the same time as Shoko, the balls bouncing off each other and by some strange miracle, landing squarely into the two cups as a cheer came from the surrounding crowd. 

“Holy shit you can’t recreate that,” Haibara is grinning, shaking your shoulder as Suguru and Satoru each take a drink in defeat. 

You and Shoko have two cups, but it’s down to one on their side. All they have to do is sink their shots and the game is theirs. Satoru was lining up, his expression gleeful as he tossed the ball and it landed perfectly, water splashing up from the cup with a soft splash as Shoko groaned next to you. Suguru hesitated, his eyes flickering between you and the cup and in almost teasing manor. It brings a grin across your face as your eyebrows raise, daring him to take the shot as he acknowledges your challenge. His eyes were alight with mischief as he took the shot, missing almost comically as he shrugged his shoulders, Satoru’s mouth dropping open as he grabbed a hold of his shoulders, shaking him. 

“You threw! You threw it, I can’t believe you-” 

In the chaos, Shoko snapped up the final ball, sinking into their remaining cup with ease as people cheered around you. Shoko was staring at Suguru, her eyebrows raised in question as he shrugged Satoru off, slowly moving around the table to face you. As the adrenaline of the game wears off, you become aware of yourself once more, flustered beneath his stare as you grip the empty bottle in your hand a little tighter. 

“Good game,” He says, his voice husky and inviting as he nods his head towards the stairwell, “can I get you another one?” 

He was pointing towards the empty bottle, the invitation clear as you shuffle awkwardly on your feet. 

“I think I’m gonna head back,” Shoko announced, cutting the tension herself as she returned to your side. “You coming?” 

It was getting late, and you were already cursing yourself for signing up for a 9 AM class as you nodded in agreement. Part of you did want to stay and see where the night went, but there was also a part of you that felt the lingering current of unease surrounding Suguru. Handsome as he was, he was a stranger to you, and Shoko’s words were already echoing in your ear. Sure, you barely knew her, but you would always be more likely to take a woman’s warning when it was offered to you. 

“I should go,” You offered, “but it was nice meeting you.” 

Suguru’s eyes warmed as he nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly as Satoru wandered off once more into the crowd. 

“Your name?” He asked, extending one large hand towards you. “(Y/N),” You replied, taking his hand as he wrapped his fingers around, warmth spreading across your palms as he shook it gently. 

It almost makes you want to laugh, the formal nature of a handshake, but you’re almost too scared to accept anything else from him. 

It’s become painfully apparent that you’re not the best with men in general - partially as a result of your own awkwardness and isolation, but also because of the obvious. You didn’t trust the majority of them, and certainly not ones like Suguru. It was a bad idea, definitely, to intrench yourself any further into his world. 

“I’ll see you around,” He says, before disappearing into the crowd. 

For a moment, you’re disappointed, but that’s the kicker with men like him. Always more fun to be around, but infinitely harder in the long run. He was about as far from your usual type as you could get, but so was the entire scene. 

Shoko doesn’t wait for you as she begun her way up the stairs, leaving you to follow like a lost kitten as you head back out into the night. The moon has sunk lower, and a glance at your phone says 2:13 in the morning. It was already late when you decided to head out, but it was also hard to believe that you’d spent nearly an hour inside. 

The walk to your dorm is short, the pathways illuminated as Shoko lit another cigarette, the smoke pluming over her head. You debate asking her for more information on Suguru, but decide against it in fear of seeming too forward. Besides, you aren’t willing to risk the fragile friendship you’ve formed with her by making her think you’re only interested in him. 

“Just ask,” She said, as if sensing your thoughts as she casts a glance over her shoulder at you. “What do you mean by a hill I don’t wanna climb?” 

Shoko sighed, slowing her pace to walk in tandem beside you as she pondered the right words to say. It’s not that she distrusts her own friend, or that he’s a bad person, but sometimes Suguru is well… Suguru. 

“He’s like Satoru,” She said finally, “a lot to handle sometimes. He’s not really the relationship type, but he is a good friend when you need him to be.” 

It was obvious already, but it still does little to stifle the slight disappointment. Were you even looking for a relationship? The question rattled around inside your mind incessantly. Sure, while you weren’t entirely opposed to a casual hookup, but you were also aware that it was a remarkably easy way to gain feelings when you didn’t want to. Furthermore, you couldn’t quite imagine trusting someone like that without knowing them incredibly well. 

You decided to drop it as you entered the dorm hall. It would be easy enough to keep your distance, you figured. In your three years on campus you’d never encountered him directly before tonight. Shoko stopped in front of her door, turning to wave once more. 

“G’night,” She murmured, “good luck with your classes.” 

“Good luck,” You echo her sentiment, watching her retreat into her room as the door shuts with a soft click. 

Inside your room the lights are dimmed with only the soft glow of a string of fairy lights that are strung up on the wall. You sprung for solo living this year, having tried your luck with various roommates over the years to no avail. The few you did have were characters in and of themselves, and so it was a great relief to have won a bid for the only solo hall on campus. 

It had gotten too expensive to consider a place off campus, at least not without procuring a job. You’d barely managed the workload in the last semester without crashing out, so adding onto it was off the table. There were still a few unpacked boxes pressed to the walls, their contents spilling out onto the floor as you toed around them, slipping off your dress in favor of a pair of pajamas. 

You felt a vague sense of accomplishment, proud of yourself for going out despite the internal desire not too. It would have been too easy not to, excuse yourself in favor of unpacking and finishing any last minute pre-semester requirements. Though anything you needed to do had already been done, no one else had to know that. Hell, no one else on campus knew you - besides the small group of acquaintances you’d gathered on happenstance. 

That was the one benefit of being reclusive, it made it so much easier to go unnoticed, maintaining your anonymity and thus, your peace. Maybe it could be a good thing, though, to venture outside of your comfort zone. You’d already decided that this would be the year of bolder choices, and as you climbed into bed, you felt more confident in that decision.

~

Shit. 

Any satisfaction you’d had last night from stepping out was almost immediately replaced with urgency as you woke up to read the time - 8:56 AM. You’d stumbled out of your dorm in a rush, having thrown on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before running out the door. It was a sprint across campus, and by the time you’d stumbled into the building at 9:01, you were embarrassingly out of breath and panting in the doorway as all your classmates looked at you with both pity and amusement. 

You scanned the room for an empty desk, trying hard not to meet the eyes of your classmates as you skittered into the room. The professor paid you no mind, typing away at his computer as he began setting up a slideshow. 

Double shit. 

There was one desk left in the entire classroom - and it just so happened to be the one next to the same beautiful long haired stranger from last night. Suguru. 

[susiekern]

12. the one with the getaway car

a/n: I woke up to see that we've hit over 1000 likes at this point and I can't tell y'all how happy it makes me to know you enjoy my little works 😭 thank you so much for being here with me 🫡🫶🏻 also I'm posting it from my phone since I'm at a nye trip, so lmk if anything is looking wrong!

warnings: swearing, mentions and suggestions of sexual activities

word count: 1.491

masterlist

It’s crazy how things can change in a few weeks.

Ten days ago you had a first official date with Megumi, and now you’re sitting in his room, reading a book while he plays guitar. Spending quality time together, as Nobara would call it. You’re not sure if the thing between you two is official or not, but in the past two weeks of trying, you found out that dating Megumi is… fun. Yeah.

It had its ups and downs, like everything in life, but you try to only focus on the good parts, like how much your followers go crazy whenever you mention anything about him on your streams. They never saw him, but they loved him. Crazy. The first stream after your little Instagram fuck-up was filled with questions, and just remembering that you smile a little.

sammie: Y/N DON’T TORTURE US

rooney_: just admit it at this point

zeyde_: it’s the hot neighbor, right? it has to be him

yusshi: y/n x hot neighbor confirmed

“Guys, chill out. Nothing confirmed, I just went out with someone.” You sighed, taking a sip of the energy drink.

The little walk date you went out on yesterday turned into midnight cooking and late morning, so you were feeling the effects of only a few hours of sleep. It was great, though, so you weren’t really complaining. Megumi took the trying part seriously, and first, he took you for a walk around the calmer part of Tokyo combined with coffee in the park cafe, then cooked a dinner at his and Yuji’s place, so you could enjoy it while watching a movie. It wasn’t anything over the top; it wasn’t forced. Everything you did felt natural, like you’d been at it for years already.

lan2137: I refuse to ship you with anyone but him atp

zeyde_: LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK

zeyde_: and you are the people in the back y/n

nobabar: IT WAS THE HOT NEIGHBOR GUYS

nobabar: also I got you the mochi you asked for, it’s in the fridge

sammie: the queen has spoken

viviaaan: HI NOBARA

yusshi: I knew it!

“Traitor. But thanks for the mochi, Nono.” Betrayed by your own roommate. For the next half an hour, your chat was restless in asking you about the date until you caved and shared a little. Not like you’re going to tell people how his back was now full of scratches and you had small bruises on your hips, accidentally shaped like his fingers. No way.

“What are you smiling about?” Megumi asks, looking up from his notebook that was splayed on the desk. Oh, what you’d give to see these pages. He treats it like his treasure, always putting it safely into the drawer. With the black acoustic guitar in his hands and without a shirt on, he was a view you’d never get tired of. His fingers expertly pulled on the strings, not stopping even when he looked at you.

“I’m just happy, nothing specific.” You close the book that you have been trying to focus on for the past minutes and drop it on the nightstand. Turning onto your side, you stretch a little on his bed and move your attention fully to him. “What are you playing?”

“Nothing specific.” He repeats your words. After finishing the melody and putting the instrument back in its place, he gets up from a chair and joins you on the bed. “Nap time?”

“Megs, we’re meeting with Yuji, Nobara, and Maki for dinner in an hour.” You can’t help but laugh at his proposition.

“Five minutes.” Wrapping his arms around you, he shifts you both so now he’s lying on your body, head on your chest. It was his favorite position to sleep in, you’ve noticed. Not that you’re opposing in any way, it was comforting to feel his weight on you, and you felt like hugging a giant teddy bear. Maybe a bit harder than an actual plushie, but the warmth makes up for it.

“It’s never only five minutes, and we both know it.” Even with that, you instinctively brush your finger through his soft hair, earning a sigh from him. “Fine, five minutes.”

It’s not five minutes. It never is.

“Why does he always have to come up with shit like that?!” It’s possible that the whole building was currently listening to your meltdown. Not that you care. Not right now.

“He just texted you? Didn’t even call?” Nobara was as calm as ever, sitting on the counter with a beer in hand, watching as you paced around the room. On the contrary, Yuji and Megumi, who are standing near the kitchen island, look terrified.

“No. He just sent one text with place and time. I wouldn’t even be surprised if it was his assistant who sent it. I should just fucking ignore it.” You shake your head. With shaking hands, you take your own bottle and take a sip, throat dry after cursing for a good fifteen minutes. “Fucking asshole.”

“Okay, deep breath in. I’m sure it won’t be that bad.” Megumi tries to do anything, but you only give him one deadly look.

“Keep going and you’ll earn yourself a celibacy.” You’re absolutely serious about that threat, and that’s enough to shut him up for a moment. “I need a fucking smoke before I punch something. Or someone.”

They all look as you grab a pack of cigarettes and a jacket and go to the balcony. Nobara sighs and takes another sip of beer.

“How are you so calm? I’m genuinely nervous just watching her.” Yuji asks, moving his gaze from you to her.

“It’s not my first rodeo, newbie. He pulls shit like that at least once every six months, but usually, you’re safely in your own apartment. Now you’re a witness at the wrong place at the wrong time.” She laughs humorlessly.

What reason for this whole thing? Your lovely father, who remembers about his own child once or twice a year. You were all having a lovely evening, watching shitty dramas and eating takeout, when you got a text from him, demanding you come to dinner in three days. Not asking. Demanding.

“I’ll risk that celibacy.” Megumi sighs and pulls on his hoodie that is lying on the bar stool.

“Good luck. Just don’t tell her to calm down, it usually has the opposite effect.”

When he gets out on the balcony, you’re not much calmer. Your hands are shaking, making it hard to even hold a cigarette, but nicotine is your last resort at this point. You’re leaning on the railing, breathing in cold air, hoping it’ll cool down your nerves.

“About that celibacy…” Taking a spot next to you, Megumi tries to start with a joke. Surprisingly, you chuckle under your breath, taking another puff in. “But seriously, I get it.”

“You do?”

“Have I ever told you about my dad?” He asks, before stealing a cigarette from your hand. As you shake your head, he takes two puffs and gives it back. “He did something similar. But when your dad forgot about you for a few months, mine forgot about me and Tsumi for almost ten years. I was six when Mom died, and he fell into a dark place after. Gambling, alcohol, and I don’t even want to know what else. He’d show up once a year, promise he’d get better, then do exactly the same thing every time, just disappear overnight. So yeah, I get it in a way.”

“Shit.” You curse and turn a little to look at him. His face doesn’t tell you much, although his eyes are stuck on something in the sky. “I had no idea.”

“You couldn’t know. Even Yuji doesn’t. When I was sixteen, he was gone for two years and showed up again. But this time he actually did better. We’re not really close, but he’s present and calls me once in a while, trying to redeem himself for those ten years. He’s closer to Tsumi since they both live in Kyoto, and he took on a mission to be the best grandpa to her kid now.” There’s a soft smile on his face at the mention of the current situation, and he looks at you. “I’m not saying you should be happy with what your dad is doing because it could be worse; don’t get me wrong. He’s an asshole. I’m just saying I kind of understand how it feels, and honestly, he’s not worth the nerves. Go there, see what he has to say, and if it’s the same old shit, he can’t make you stay.”

“Yeah. Sounds like a plan.” You nod and lean on his shoulder.

“I can drive you there and wait for you outside if you want.” He offers, wrapping an arm around your waist and smiling, when you laugh and look up at him.

“You’ll be my getaway car?”

“Always.”

tag list (lmk if you wanna be added!): @nytylie @fresa-luna @syrooo @zaranobiyuyu @jvpit3rr @pandabiene5115 @good-mourning0 @pearlydays @irwinchester @pxppetmxster @ivydoesit23 @zayuriluvs @applepi25 @s777athv @estella-novella @wgafa

[anika-ann]

My favourite of Stellas, as if one could ever mind a reblog, let alone multiple reblogs and a gorgeous detailed commentary like this 🥹 I feel BLESSED by the gods an your support and love for this story and I know I keep saying it, but please please please, comments/reblog come if or when they do and I am excited that you dived into the story of these two 💕

But before we dive in:

my poor brain can only survive so much protective knight Steve before it blue-screens to death

Extermely relatable. As you know 🤭

Now. Spoilers and details under cut.

As I said, I feel very blessed, among other million things, for your attentive reading. Because she sure had a feeling that the time was not right before for a reason she might not be able to explain, but it was there. I entirely agree Steve would have had a harder time if he already knew prior rushing to her.

Hehe I also do not apologize for Morgana 🤭 (hello AD though). This set-up is heavily inspired by Merlin TV series and I make no apologies 🤭 That includes an ass of a king. Glad you think the behavioru sits Howard as well as his inspiration in his counterpart in Merlin.

Ah, Bucky Barnes, attempting (and mostly failing) to stop Steve from being a dumbass in every universe. Bucky Barnes needing a drink in every universe.

...and other facts that made me snort 😂 Yes indeed. Where would be the fun if it was not the case here too? That said, I'm always incredibly pleased and humbled when you compliment characterisation, directly or indirectly, so I'm really glad to see you making these observations about Bucky, Steve hmself and their dynamics! Including the parallels to the Accords (my not beloved) and Steve's protectivness (my beloved) - we do share love for nuclear armageddon Steve 😏💕

And yes 😭 Thank you for catching the Bible reference and how I try to balance the whole paganism-Christianity beliefs coexisting, to me, it is such an important layer, all the more since Steve would have been closer to latter originally, his relationship to a literal witch who has beliefs on the other side of the scales for obvious reasons making him question all he knows and has been taught, times and times again. You get a cookie 🥺

You are so incredibly generous with your compliments and since you mentioned this story not doing as well as I hoped (very true), it means even more than usual 💕

Thank you, sending hugs and wishing a kind new year upon us all ✨

Ochranuj me (Protect Me) - S.R.

Part 1/2

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; a part of this pseudomedieval-fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 8,6k

Summary:  Your practice of magic is punishable by death. Your love is forbidden by law; and yet it has been blessed, more than he knows.

When the crown prince is poisoned, Knight Steven Rogers is faced with a choice: will he risk a war or the love of his life?

And what of you? If asked… shall you risk it all? For the lands where you live… for your knight?

Warnings: attempted murder, poisoning, blood, mentions of death, polytheism, mentions of pregnancy (reader/OFC), Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Actual title is Ochraňuj mě (Protect Me) ...tumblr cannot handle a ň in their title 🙃 DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; fits after the events of the previous instalments

A/N 2: This is one less smut and more plot, forgive me 🤭 I hope you'll enjoy anyway. Yes, the Merlin inspo is real here. Inspo also from Bílá laň by Vesna. For music, check it out here, for visuals here.

Chodila, chodila za tebou bílá laň lásky se napila navzdory všem přísahám. Prosila pány lesa ať ji pustí za tebou zažít si, jaké to je jít za srdce ozvěnou.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Jako bílá laň svoji duši chraň, ať záři neztratíš.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Tak ať nepotká tě kříž. (kříž, kříž, kříž) - Bílá laň by Vesna

Boisterous laugh. Wine poured in gallons painting cheeks nearly just as ruddy as the warmth of the torches illuminating the high halls of the Starkerbürg castle painted the walls. Rich aroma of butter, oils, meats and spices flowing in the air, clinking of the most precious silverware and a distant sound of flutes as the musicians tasked to raise the already high spirits could be barely heard over the noise of the feast.

Under the watchful eye of the gods or the only God it was now believed there was, a celebration of peace was raving, everything but peaceful and serene; loud and overwhelming instead, a whirlwind of emerald green threaded with gold welcomed by the steady colours of rich crimson and gold. An anniversary of the peace made between the kingdom of Asgard and Starkerbürg, a party led by Thor Odinson, the king of the lands, honouring the deal his late father King Odin had made right before his passing.

The high table with King Howard sitting at the centre, his son Anthony, the crown prince, by his right, along with the woman he was courting, Pepper of the Potts; on her right, King Howard’s daughter, Princess Morgana. On the king’s left, the guests of honour; King Thor, his wife Queen Jane, and his brother Prince Loki. Knights and warriors of the highest ranks, lords and ladies of nobility joining the celebrations, servants all but running around the hall to tend to everyone’s needs.

Then, a sound of a chalice hitting the stone floor, one that would have been met with more laughter, had it not fallen from Prince Anthony’s hand, suddenly scarily pale and trembling. Cold to touch too, a terrifying contrast to his burning forehead glistening with sweat. Body sliding down the chair, barely even faint frantic motions to his chest.

Brief, deafening silence.

The traitorous calm before a storm would hit and leave nothing but death and destruction in its wake.

Chaos.

Swords drawn.

A wave of threats of violence.

A thundering voice of the King of Starkerbürg himself.

Calls for the royal physician Banner.

Images of peace and joy shattered; a single inconspicuous calm face among the sea of others in the face of a tragedy in making.

“Poison. I cannot determine what kind as of yet. Carry His Royal Majesty to his chambers!” the physician called out, not bothered by the fact he was ordering around knights and other nobility. “At once! There is no time to spare!”

Knights practically tripping over each other to tend to their prince, to their future ruler, to their brother in arms even as by rank he stood high above them. Rustle and grunts; a whisper of skirts as the culprit slipped away in the midst of disarray and cries of fear for the prince and the future of both kingdoms alike.

To think that an attack at the crown happening during the presence of a party of another kingdom – one similarly strong – was but a coincidence, would have been foolishly naïve.

Oh there were no such coincidences; this was but the first step towards a war.

And the perpetrator would be treated with that in mind.

“Aconite, most likely,” sounded the verdict, the words solemn on the physician’s lips as he fearfully raised his gaze to the King hovering over his shoulder as he inspected the second most important patient of the kingdom at the royal chambers.

The dark note in Banner’s voice snapped Steven from the haze as he, Sir Barnes, Sir Barton and Sir Wilson stood along the walls of Anthony’s chambers, tall and menacing, but just as helpless as Prince Anthony’s betrothed seated in the corner.

Whatever poison the physician was talking about, it was not known to Steven; but the message written in Banner’s expression was clear as day and terrifying like a night to be spent in the woods with rumoured presence of ghouls.

Inevitable death.

It was true that King Howard Stark might have yet to comprehend, despite his long years of ruling his lands, that one might catch more flies with sugar than vinegar, gain more by threading his actions with kindness than by spitting threats of violence; but he was no fool. He perceived the solemnity of the announcement and received it with a shadow over his already distorted features.

“This… aconite, Banner. What kind of a poison is that?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, but not bending. Not under the weight on the crown on his head, nor under the weight of the tidings he might be scared to receive. His face was but a mask of stern indifference; a silent warning to Banner to choose his next words carefully.

As if stating the patient’s condition was a choice, Steven thought darkly, his heart pounding painfully against his ribcage as he exchanged glances with his best friend standing by his side. When he looked back at the physician, he could see him swallow dryly even from the several feet distance. Yet, the brave man faced the King with his head held high and his expression filled with sorrow.

“A deadly kind, Your Royal Majesty,” Banner said slowly. Rage flashed on the King’s face, Steven’s stomach dropping at both the sight and the worst tidings brought. Death. “It is made from the nectar-filled blossoms or the tubers of the Aconitum lycoctonum flower. There is… no cure known to man.”

A sniffle sounded in the corner of the room, completely ignored except for Sir Barton’s compassionate glance towards the woman who was on the brink of despair at the mere thought of the man she had clearly already learned to love leaving this world forever.

The King beckoned to the guards standing by the door, making them instantly step forward with their spears ready, heading for Banner menacingly.

Steven’s feet twitched as he wanted to step forward to protect the physician, outrage rising at the injustice even as fear twisted his stomach.

Sir Barnes brushed his hand discreetly to stop him.

Steven gritted his teeth, but stayed put for now, watching the scene unfold with disdain.

Sir Barnes was correct in one thing: Anthony being poisoned and having his life hanging on a thread was horrible enough, and rash decisions and actions such as standing up to the King would only make it worse.

A raging man was an unwise man; and the King was only a man too, even as he compared himself to various deities and had nearly as much power as them – which only rendered him more dangerous. There was no point in scaring the physician to death or even hurting him, but such was the King’s power. Such was his God-given right to punish whoever as he pleased. It mattered little that Banner could barely be blamed for-

-for the crown prince’s impending death, apparently.

“Then I advise you, Banner, to find one fast,” King Howard sneered as the guards stood behind the physician now. “Otherwise, you shall meet the same fate as whoever of Asgard dared to try and rob me of my son.”

The guards grabbed the man’s shoulders and Steven’s hand instinctively went for his sword again; and he was not the only one. Still, the knights stood, hesitant to disobey their King even in the face of the glaring injustice, fighting an inner battle between honour and goodness of heart and the oath they had taken. Their loyalty was to the kingdom and the King represented it most of all, after all; even if he seemed to threaten it the most of all, too, at the moment.

Well, not on Steven’s watch.

“Wait!” he called out as he stepped forward, earning a hard glare from the King himself that should have told him to keep quiet and fall in line, but he could not. Not even for Bucky’s audible sigh behind him. Not when-

“Is there anything we can do for him as of now, is what we are trying to ask,” Sir Wilson spoke up before Steven could, moving to stand next to him.

Steven took a deep breath as his gaze flickered to his comrade, finding his face arranged in a carefully crafted humbleness – as it should be in the face of the ruler even when he was addressing the physician.

Banner’s words were kind, his voice firm and regretful.

“I am afraid there isn’t, good Sir.”

“The Royal Guard and all the knights have a clear mission given by the crown, Sir Wilson,” the King barked as he gestured for the physician to be dragged away, the poor man allowing it without a protest. King Howard’s gaze fell on his son’s pale face as he lied on the bed with nothing but soundless whimpers on his lips, before he snapped back to the four knights present. “Arrest all servants and nobility of Asgard. I shall have the King and his brother for myself. And should my son meet his forefathers, I shall have their heads on a spike by tomorrow.”

With those words, he turned on his heel and stepped out, his leave abruptly followed by Anthony’s wife-to-be rushing to her betrothed’s side, cheeks damp with tears.

Steven regarded the scene unfolding, frozen with horror and unease greater than anyone.

He feared the death of his friend, naturally, as they had just dragged the one single person with any chance of curing Anthony in the whole kingdom away from his bedside.

But Steven feared a lot more deaths too. Should Prince Anthony die, King Howard would unleash pure hell on Asgard and as a consequence, on all Starkerbürg as well.

All the knights knew that; everyone knew that. They all had a heavy feeling in their stomach at the mere thought, their feet slow and unwilling as they left the chambers one by one. Yet, Steven’s heart was heavier.

The thought had occurred to him when he had wondered what exactly the King was expecting from Banner.

To turn back time so the prince had never got poisoned?

To pray to the gods for a miracle?

To perform a miracle himself and cure what was considered uncurable?

The last idea had squeezed his heart in an icy fist, nausea clawing up his throat.

He knew someone who could achieve things as close to a miracle as possible in this realm. He had felt such miracle in his own blood, tissue and cells; he had felt the wonders strong magic was capable of when in the hands of the kind-hearted. He was still breathing solely because of it; and he knew the person who could achieve this closely, intimately even, mind, body and soul, the depth of the goodness of her heart.

Perhaps you would be able to replicate the feat of saving Steven from certain death.

Perhaps your magic was powerful enough to save thousands lives by saving one. Powerful enough to prevent a war.

But hope and miracles were not to be trifled with. Magic was not to be trifled with. Being seen practising magic meant a definite death sentence.

But would it? If it saved the future king’s life?

Surely, he couldn’t risk it; he couldn’t risk your life. Of all the things he had seen in his life, of all the things he had ever had the fortune to hold, you were the most precious one to him. If he brought you here, he could lose you. He could lose you, by his own hand no less, and that would be the highest price to pay for peace he did not even know would settle or not in the end.

No.

That was the one price he couldn’t pay. He’d much rather pay with his own life – but not yours. Gods, never yours.

But if you only could… knew a potion, could do anything at all…

As he marched with his comrades to arrest the innocent – for it could not be the work of all Asgardians at once – his jaw was tense, the dilemma occupying all his thoughts, feeling like it might tear him in half.

Until it hadn’t.

If he did nothing, the war was be inevitable. If he did nothing, he would lose you anyway.

A raging man was a dangerous man and King Stark would burn the world in the wake of his anger and grief, heedless of whoever would burn with it.

Steven stopped dead in his tracks, Sir Barnes nearly colliding with him as a result.

“Steve, what the-“

“I must go,” Steven said in a hushed voice, swiftly changing direction; or attempting to. Sir Barnes’ hand was quick to grab onto his elbow, stopping him, heedless of other knights continuing their path.

“Steve, what in heavens do you mean by that?”

“I must fetch someone. I believe she could help.”

Sir Barnes bewilderment would perhaps be almost comical had it not been for the dread pooling cold in Steven’s gut.

“…she? What—the woman you have been sneaking off to see?” Sir Barnes enquired, causing a startled and utterly confused expression to appear on Steven’s face, a small alarmed sound pushing past the man’s lips despite his effort to remain composed.

Hold on, hold on-- Bucky knew?!

The look Steven received back was unimpressed at best – of course Bucky knew. He knew Steven almost better than he knew himself.

“Save the surprise for another day. How could she possibly help? Is she a physician’s assistant? Or even an apprentice for some insane reason?”

Had Steve had the capacity, he’d glare at Bucky for the offensive tone with which he had asked the question; however, he did not have it and in the brief moment he spent pondering, he realized that Bucky was not opposed to the idea itself. It was simply the ways of Starkerbürg: to try and take a woman as a physician’s apprentice was insane indeed. King had the God-given right to appoint physicians – and King Howard would certainly never approve of a female one.

But that didn’t matter, because that was not who you were.

“She’s… she is a healer.”

“A healer?” Sir Barnes echoed pointedly, doubt colouring his words. “What does than even mean? We do not have time for this.”

Steven huffed, trying to tug his arm free from Sir Barnes’ grasp as his impatience grew along with the number of doubts whether it was ever a good idea to consider your aid; but there were no options. No time to search for them. No time to waste and no time for finesse. He needed to go and he needed Bucky to understand – and more than that.

“She saved my life, Bucky. Back when I fell from the crags into the river… when you thought I was dead-“

“You must have been lucky, fell into deep water. You had superficial injuries. This is a poison. One the best physician of the court claims to have no antidote for.”

Steven swallowed thickly, the heaviest of feelings in his stomach as he chose to reveal his greatest secret as to make a point and be released to act before it’d be too late. “Bucky, I had much more than superficial injuries. She… she helped then. She might be able to help now, but… I will need your help with protecting her should it come to it.”

Bucky looked at Steve as if he had just grown a second head, glancing around nervously as guards and knights alike kept passing them, casting strange looks at them for their stillness. Sir Barnes lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper.

“Are you saying you were wounded much worse and yet she was able to tend to you? In such short time that you were missing then? And that she might be able to help here, now, with a poison that has no known cure?” Sir Barnes demanded hastily, bewildered and clearly irritated. “Are you hearing yourself, Steven? What kind of a healer would she have to be to-“

The almost sardonic voice suddenly fell silent, all blood draining from Sir Barnes’ face when the horrifying realization finally dawned to him. His hand fell limp, finally releasing Steven’s arm.

“Steve, this is not a subject for joking.”

Steven swallowed heavily, heart thundering in his chest, blood pounding in his temples. He shouldn’t have told – but he had to. He had to, right? Bucky needed to understand-

He sighed quietly, whole body strung tight in expectation of his friend exploding in rage – rage he had no time for.

“I am not joking. And you are right, we are losing precious time, I should-”

The sudden grip on Steven’s his shoulder, appearing as to stop him from leaving, was much more brutal than the hold on his elbow had been, fingers digging into flesh even over the layers of clothing.

“You— have you been… lying with a--”

Steven’s voice was quiet, but as sharp and dangerous as the sword resting in the sheath on his hip. “Choose your words carefully, Bucky. That is the woman I love and owe my life to. I would die for her, and I would not have been standing here had she not healed me.”

“That could be exactly what she wants you to think!” Sir Barnes sputtered. Steven fought the urge to roll his eyes – the absurdity of such statement was glaring.

“Oh for heavens-- I might be a fool sometimes, but I am not an idiot-”

“Debatable!” Sir Barnes whispered as madly as if he was in fact yelling. “As you’re proving it this very moment!”

Steven shook his head, the feeling in his gut growing more gnawing by the second, every frantic beat of his heart feeling like a waste of precious time.

“Bucky, you said it yourself – we do not have time for this! I must go. I will get her, but… please. Help me protect her if the King is blind to the fact she uses--- it to do good.”

Sir Barnes simply stared back, the halls empty by now as much as his gaze, however inquiring.

The grip on Sir Rogers’ arm loosened.

Silence stretched. Precious second ticked by, grains of sand in hourglass no one could turn back falling; and with each and every one, Steve’s stomach tightened further with creeping horror.

Surely his most precious, most loyal friend, having been standing by his side since childhood, would not abandon him now? Surely he would not betray him in moments that might be deciding his fate, the fate of his beloved, of the whole kingdom?

“Bucky, please. I swear-- I’m begging you. I need to-- I need to protect her. At any cost.”

“What of your sword?” Sir Barnes asked dully, appearing indifferent to Steven’s desperate pleas.

What of your knighthood? Are you willing to give up that, if you are forced to leave in the darkness of the night and never return to bring your beloved to safety? Are you willing to leave the path of the honorary knight to become a lawless fugitive?

The smile which found its way to the corners of Steve’s lips was soft; sad and torn, for it was the greatest honour to serve, to protect, to help. He had been and always would be grateful for the rare chance he had got.

But there was no greater blessing of the gods themselves than you having entered his life and taking it by the most beautiful of storms. He loved you. He loved you more than anything and anyone in this world and that was what he would not even dream of giving up.

He didn’t respond with words; and yet, the exasperation on his closest friend’s face told him he did not have to. Sir Barnes understood from Steven’s expression alone. He always had.

“Gods, Steven Grant of Rogers, of all stunts you could have pulled to get yourself hanged, you truly had to go and chose the most foolish one. My God- Steven…”

Most foolish one? Echoed in Steven’s head, the words absurd. No. The most gorgeous one, the purest one, the most blessed, he allowed himself to muse. The most honourable one too, no? Love. Where was justice, if love, the purest emotions of all, was considered a crime? Did the new religious teachings not speak of love being kind, patient, knowing no dishonour and wrongs?

That was how he loved you. Wholly and entirely, kindly, patiently, even if passionately.

It was only then when Steven snapped from his haze and finally noticed a trace of hurt on Sir Barnes’ face when it occurred to him why Bucky had taken so long to respond. He was cross with Steven; but not as much for the alleged crime, but for having kept it a secret. Keeping you a secret; the one closest to his heart, his beloved, hidden from the one person he had always trusted with anything.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. No one could know. She’s-- she is too precious. I had to protect her,” he explained softly, urgently. “And I still do. I will, with your help or without it. But… please.”

Sir Barnes continued to regard him, stunned into silence still, expression unreadable.

Then, he shook his head; what might seem as disagreement however, Steve recognized as resignation. He had known Bucky for too long to not be able to decipher which shake of a head was a no and which was an expression of indignation and regret at his own choice of a best friend.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

And with those words, Steve took his hasty leave, his minute relief drowned in the sea of worry when he sneaked into the stables to rush through the gates of the castle, claiming to be running a King’s errand.

Seeking his closeness the pretty white doe having sipped at love all despite her oath, she begged the forest spirits to let her go to follow her heart and its eternal song.

Light breeze caressing your hair like the tender fingers of your lover, brushing away a lose strand from your face. Gentle September sunrays of a late afternoon warming your cheeks, long leaves of grass tickling your ankles and your hands as you gathered brownwort, thyme and lady’s mantle, the smell almost too much despite its pleasant notes. Your hand instinctively laying over your belly as the reminder of why you were gathering these particular herbs blossomed in your mind anew, a smile settling on your face. It was not just the time of year blessing people with abundance of these flowers, a nature’s reminder the time was coming to bath in the blessed lake on the Autumn equinox; it was the sweet secret humming under your heart too, growing stronger and more beautiful by day – and slightly bittersweet for for now, it was only yours to keep, your beloved knight none the wiser.

Steven.

The very reason, you suspected, for the heavy feeling in your heart; the reason why none of the kind offerings of mother nature seemed to sooth a jittery feeling you had woken with up from your restless sleep. Unease had been crawling over your skin; a solemnity’s shadows, despite the beautiful weather and the joyful morning realisation that a barely noticeable bump was now showing on your body, a testament to the blessings of love.

The sky was beginning to colour with sunset with no clouds in sight; and yet, you could feel a storm coming, one you did not feel would be of the refreshing purifying kind. The air did not smell of rain; if you breathed in deeply, it reeked of the very death the wind seemed to whisper about in the tallest of birch trees. A warning; a witch’s intuition tuned to the finest hints of the gods of nature and forest spirits. You had tried to sooth yourself, coaxing yourself into peace by wondering if it perhaps was but a new future mother’s anxiety.

Yet, an instinct as old as time whispered to you to know better.

Which was why the wild stomping of hooves nearing your cabin should have not taken you by surprise. But it did.

You rose from your crouch so fast your head span, gathered flowers falling from your hands at the brief faint sensation; you steadied yourself just as Steven’s horse came into view, slowing into a walk as not to startle you or crush all the blossoms on the meadow.

The silent thank you to the gods for seeing your love alive and well left your lips without prompting, followed by your spine tingling with a shudder of power at its base.

Almost as if the gods blessed you for your genuine gratitude and gifted you with strength. Strength you shall no doubt need, for Steven might be living and breathing, dismounting his mare in a thousand-times practised manner, breathtaking as ever, but the distress on his face and the tension of his wide shoulders told you those shoulders carried the weight of the world at the moment.

Feet waking with motion, you met him halfway as he rushed to you, his arms quick to embrace you lovingly but so tight all air left your ribcage for long moments. Steven’s heart thundered against your ear as you hid your face against his chest. Fresh air had washed his clothes of most smells, but sweat and wine and rich spices still enveloped your senses, a tell-tale signs of the feast which he had told you about being interrupted by something vicious.

Yet, you took precious moments of simply breathing your lover in, basking in the comfort his arms offered no matter the circumstance.

He nuzzled his face in your hair, his chest expanding with a generous inhale, a steadying breath which made his heart race faster, as if attempting to outrun the very storm you had felt arriving.

You ran your hands down his broad back, feeling your own heart leaping into your throat as the silence between you, often so sweet and comforting, stretched ominously.

“Steven… love,” you whispered, attempting to shift in his embrace, only achieving his hold growing firmer, his muscles almost shaking with effort not to let go.

Oh Steven… What a terrible feat had been laid upon him?

“What has happened?”

Finally releasing your body, his hands were quick to cradle your face instead, achingly gentle, even as his eyes roamed your face wordlessly, brimming with so much emotion it stirred your unease further.

“Rytier moj?”

Steven’s face softened minutely, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as tenderly as butterfly wings despite the power – or the lack of it – in his grip.

“My love…”

Lips curling in a tiny smile, you mirrored Steven’s affection, reaching to settle your palm against his cheek, fingers of your other hand carding through his hair; your heart fluttered when he leaned into your touch, a wavering breath escaping his lips before they pressed against your palm to sooth the scratch of his beard against your skin.

Despite the dulcet image he made, eyes fluttering close for a blissful moment of nothing but love shared, you felt his body pulse with anxious urgency seemingly seeping into yours through your fingertips.

“I did not sleep well…” you confessed, his already pursed lips turning down. “I had a heavy feeling in me. Now I know the gods had not warned me simply for their own whims. What’s happened?”

Steven opened his eyes again; with a single caress of the breeze, he straightened, his aura of a knight – a fierce protector, a loyal friend, a humble determined servant – returning with its full force as did his worry.

“I need your help.”

A simple plea.

A simple answer.

“Always, rytier moj. Anything,” you promised.

One would expect relief to fill your lover’s features; instead, dread twisted them into a frown of dismay. Almost as if he had been hoping for your rejection.

Why?

The whisper of death among the trees grew louder, haunting, sending such a shudder through your body not even your lover’s warmth could hope to protect you from it, another urgent question scratching at the back of your mind.

Death, the trees seemed to whisper.

Whose death?

“Oh bosorka moja…”

Not Steven’s. Never. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

And not your child’s. You’d claw a throat open with your bare hands had anyone tried to take them away. Take her away. You had dreamed two nights prior, dreamed of a girl with Steven’s beautiful eyes and your hair caressed by the wind, her laughter filling the air as he sat her on his shoulders and she placed the daisy crown on his head-

The image had been so full of hope, so bright, so full of promise; it battled the current scent of death fiercely, one blending into another, and it felt like you were stood in the middle.

Your choice. Your power.

Your victory; or your loss.

You gulped, your gentle hold on Steven’s face growing shaky; with fear or the weight of responsibility, you weren’t sure.

“What is it, love? You are worrying me… come in. Tell me what weights down your-“

“Prince Anthony has been poisoned,” he said at last.

The whisper of the wind seemed to turn into a screech of a gale, even as the tree leaves and grass barely rustled.

The Prince… was he the one whose death you felt impending? It must have been.

In a split second, it became so clear why Steven was so shaken.

An impending death of his brother in arms. Of someone whom he served and appreciated.

Of the future ruler; quite possibly caused by the attempts of the party of Asgard.

An act of war.

Should Prince Anthony die, there would be no stopping at one death. Devastating number of lives could be lost. Including Steven’s.

No. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

But could you stop it?

Stood in the middle. Your choice. Your power.

Could you prevent a war?

Your mind was set into a whirl, various herbs and remedies for different poisonings refreshed in your mind.

“Do you know which poison it was?” you asked urgently, dropping your hands; and confused as why Steven’s remained firmly on your face, his expression speaking of pain greater than before. “Steven, love. What are his troubles? I can send a potion, pass it as a remedy from a physician-”

“Burning feeling in his forehead, weakness of muscles, trembling, cold sweat… he fainted and could not be woken up, only for a brief moment. He had trouble speaking, began to shake, fainted again...” Steven listed slowly, his unease growing with every word.

And so did yours.

Determination bled out from your body drop by drop, replaced by dread, the very weakness your lover was talking about as if settling in your own muscles and bones.

“The physician believes it might have been... aconite?” he added.

You had figured as much, seemingly endless moments before Steven spoke the dreaded word.

Aconite.

The worst nightmare of all living things; the deadliest daydream of those who meant harm and would not stop until their enemy released their last breath.

Death, screeched the breeze in the crowns of the birch trees; the yew trees, the very symbol of passing, joining in.

Death. War. Death.

Your power. Your victory. Your loss.

Your voice shook more frantically than young aspen leaves in the wind.

“Steven… aconite is deadly. I have no potion or salve for this. There is no cure-”

“That is what physician Banner said.”

“But then what…”

Your voice trailed off, words stuck in your throat, air stolen from your chest. A lighting from clear skies could struck you at the very moment and you would barely take notice of such.

It all made sense now. You having lost sleep. The whispers of death. The assumed shiver of power you shall no doubt need. And at last, Steven’s almost palpable dismay when you had said you’d help. That you’d do anything.

He had hoped you’d help.

He was terrified of it all the same.

You could feel blood draining from your face, rushing past your ears; unspeakable horror and determination swept you like the non-existent gale in the tree crowns.

“Steven…”

His grip on your face grew firmer, unsteady but urgent, his forehead pressed against yours as his eyes slid shut, his whisper a frantic promise, a confession and a prayer at once.

“I know. Believe me, my love, I know, and I have never been more scared of anything in my whole life,” he said huskily, barely audible over the wild thundering of your heart, the shaky sound of your quick breaths, even as the rest of the world faded into background, all noise ceasing. Or perhaps even the sparrows forgot how to sing, struck by fear for their life.“I would have not asked this of you if I did not fear that Anthony’s death would unleash a war with Asgard and might destroy us all… and if I did not believe I could protect you.”

“Steven-“

A thumb over your lip, gently pressing to silence your protest, Steven guided you to look up to his eyes, every word falling from his lips an oath signed by his own blood.

“Bosorka moja… I shall protect you, no matter the cost. You must know I would lay my life for you. I will, should it come to it. As long as you are safe.”

Consumed by adoration and terror at once, you slipped from Steven’s hold, shaking your head.

He had not the slightest idea what he was speaking of, the reckless fool.

He had no idea.

And he had no idea whom he would be leaving should he deliver on his terrible promise.

“These words are not nearly as comforting as you believe them to be! How would we-- how would I live without you?” you lamented, feeling the fire of power and indignation burn inside of you, chasing the fear away for several beats of your heart. “And I-- I am not even sure I can heal him.”

“You healed me,” Steven offered kindly, encouraging, confusion and the softest trace of hurt at you having escaped his touch twisting his face. He had no idea. He had no idea at all. “You said I was at the brink of death myself-“

“You were,” you spat, not appreciating the reminder – not of his injuries, nor of your past recklessness, as grateful as you were for the latter, not a single regret in your mind for having risked it all to save the handsome stranger with goodness etched into his very soul, having shone so bright it had outshined your doubts and fear for your life. But this was different. So much circumstance had changed. “But I was… I had faith in your soul, saw your good heart. I believed to be safe from you should I be too weak to protect myself after I casted my spells, and for that, I was able to pour all my magic into the healing. And I-- I was much more careless with my power then… “

You made a pause, inhaling slowly, gathering courage in the face of Steven’s features twisting further with distress.

“But Steven… that was before. I-- before we-“

“What is it, bosorka moja? Before what?”

Your lower lip trembled, regret lacing the soft touch of your fingertips to his face.

This was not how you wished for him to find out. You had told him before, erased his memory to ease his conscience and to prepare for the right moment, a moment fit for such joyful tidings; but much like him, having rushed here asking for help despite the unspeakable risks, you had no other option.

You had no choice.

You had no time.

The deep-sea blue with a forest green shade of his irises brimmed with emotion, tenderness and silent question.

With a lump in your throat, you dropped your hands again, curling them around your middle as if to protect the secret and save it for a reverent moment your love and lover – and your child – would have deserved.

Steven regarded your stance with dread visibly climbing up his throat. You could see it in his eyes, the sudden uncertainty, the questions written in his eyes growing frantic and painful.

Why had you stepped back from him? Why had you evaded his touch? Why did you seem taken by sorrow? What secret had you been keeping from him? For you must have had some. You must have not told him something crucial – and in a dark time like this, it shall come to light.

You appeared so shaken; you appeared scared. Of something he had failed to protect you from?

Or of his reaction to the revelation?

You chose your words carefully, speaking them slowly, even though you could feel him hanging onto every syllable.

“It is not only me anymore who needs to be protected.”

Steven did not understand; that much was clear from his expression, from the step he took closer to you only for you to take a step back, etching his hurt deeper into his face.

“I… I do not understand, my love. Do you have—do you know of someone who could help you? Do they need protection too?”

The they tasted of poison much bitterer than aconite; disbelief and profound pain.

You could almost hear it, the absurd questions he seemed to be asking himself. Was there… was there someone else? Someone else who had earned your love more fiercely than he had? More deserving?

The way your love remained hidden, the distance he still had to keep, laid heavy in his mind, always, now feeding his doubt; his fear that someone else now occupied the space he had so selfishly taken up in your heart.

But had only been here mere days ago, yes? Surely you could have not--- you would have not… or had you? No. That wasn’t possible. You were the kindest most loving person he had ever met, loyal to a fault – and he was blessed to be yours, to be loved, unconditionally, more than he deserved for keeping you his little secret.

You could not read thoughts; but Steven’s always seemed to be laid bare in front of you to card through. Betrayal and resignation all at once, jaw tight to mask his hurt, to hide the very doubt you read so clearly. Doubt, but not of you; of him. He had always carried it with him, the guilt of not providing for you as he imagined he should for his beloved.

Doubt, crystal clear in his gaze. It was possible, was it not? The most wonderful woman he had ever met, finally fed up, the goblet of your patience finally having overflowed, deciding to find a man worthy of you, able to take care of you, truly, one you were willing to-

You could not bear his mind screaming anymore, even as you had not heard a single word, a single thought, all of it but achy questions expressed by his gaze alone.

“No, Steven, I do not--- I merely cannot only think of myself now,” you said softly, searching for words to reveal the secret at last, not, not wanting to and craving it all the same. “I… I need to protect us.”

His shoulders sagged, doubt and heartache erased at once, tenderness at your worry for him melting into his smile.

“Do not fret, bosorka moja. I can hold my own.”

The faint smile in the corner of your mouth hurt, tears burning in your eyes.

“I know, rytier moj… and yes, I meant us, but I--- I also meant us.”

The arm you had curled around your middle shifted. Your palm spread pointedly over your belly as you met his gaze with hesitance and silent hope; for as much as you dreaded revealing the source of your worst fear, the tidings were still joyful. And you hoped with the entirety of your heart that Steven would accept them as such, much like the first time.

But first, he had to comprehend them.

Several rushed beats of your heart it took him; but then he finally did.

Suddenly, it was his turn to stand still and rigid as if a lightning from the perfectly clear skies struck him. And it might have as well.

His voice was barely louder than a breath, hoarse, laced with careful hope despite the glaring truth.

“You—we- are we-?”

A crystal-clear memory of those being the very words he had spoken the first time entered your mind, a single tear spilling over; the awe and reverence on his face mirrored his expression all the same as you confirmed.

“Yes.”

“You are with a child? My child?”

It would have been amusing, the questions, if you hadn’t been on a brink of hysteria and hadn’t there been a metaphorical sword hanging above your heads while you indulged in revealing the sweetest secret there was between lovers.

“Yes.”

Countless grains of sand in hourglass fell, Steven simply observing you, his gaze feasting on the entirety of you with newfound emotion that touched your very soul and made it shiver with delight. He observed you with such adoration and devotion you could only imagine he would show to a deity descending to walk the Earth.

And then he was surging forward, falling on his knees in front you, one hand on your hip, the other wrapping around your lower back to keep you close as he laid his forehead on your belly, shaky, slow and careful; nothing short of reverent. Despite the circumstance, all the tears prickling in your eyes found their release – every inch of your body sang, feeling Steven’s love for both you and the life he had a generous hand in creating.

“Oh bosorka moja… láska moja,” he muttered into the fabric before he looked up, hesitant fingers slipping under, to feel the very bump you had only noticed today. His lips parted in mute awe, eyes turning glassy with sheer delight and wonder at the miracle.

You allowed yourself another moment of basking in his love; feeling the delight spreading through every vein, through every bone and nerve, all the way to your very core and source of power. Your hands found gentle purchase of Steven’s hair as his lips pressed to your belly.

But then, the inaudible crackle in the air brought you both from your reverie, the breeze screeching of death instead of new life returning.

There was no choice; dread filled your being along with a haunting whisper of opportunity from a voice speaking in tongues you barely understood and yet deciphered as guidance.

You must go. You must try. Despite the risks.

Stood in the middle. Your power. Your victory; your loss.

Your only hope and your possible doom.

“I shall try my best to help, even as I do not know if I will be able to. But Steven…” you addressed him softly, revealing one more piece, one more source of joy, “our little girl must remain safe at any cost.”

The hands sprawled around your middle twitched, a single tear escaping him as his eyes shone.

“Our--- a girl? How-“

“It is but a feeling,” you admitted, earning a brilliant smile which lasted too shortly.

You smiled tightly in return, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks as Steven’s hand softly caressed your barely-there bump again, butterflies seemingly to erupting in your stomach, your heart humming.

He rose to his feet with something in his eyes turning steely, his gentle voice once against taking on a heaviness of an oath.

“I will protect you both, even if it should be the last thing I will ever do.”

One wavering breath was all the luxury you granted yourself before springing into action, not allowing yourself to lament at the potential of death weaved into Steven’s promise. You could not afford any more distraction. The hourglass was unrelenting, rushing you.

“I know. We shall get going.”

You could feel his eyes on you, a mute confusion as you ruminated through the cabinets, the fire lit, a small pot placed on it, two handfuls of water, milk thistle, ginseng roots, and sprinkle of uncaria leaves added to the mix.

“You can sit down, love, I shall only complete the potion swiftly and we will be on our way,” you assured him, reaching for a pinch of turmeric to add.

Steven did not, in fact, sit down – if anything, you could feel him grow taller behind you, as if his growing bewilderment added an inch or two to his already impressive height. His stare was firmly set on you, a little burning and slightly insulting since you could almost hear his silent questioning of your sanity.

A potion? But you had said-

You looked over your shoulder briefly, your lover’s body nearer than expected, causing you to need to crane you neck a bit.

“No, there is no potion to neutralise the poison – but this remedy strengthens a body, aids it to fight off an infection and weakness,” you explained, expecting Steven’s face clearing, but not waiting for it do so, busying yourself with reading the mental list of ingredients, recalling every indispensable element. Milk thistle, ginseng, uncaria leaves, turmeric… ah. Yes. Where herbs were concerned, rare or common, that would be all. Only one last ingredient.

A gentle hand on your elbow stopped you as you were turning to the stack of knives, halting your movements tenderly but firmly. Blinking, you lifted your gaze to Steven’s face again, disconcerted by his unreadable expression.

“Is it… safe?”

Had it not been for the large distress he was in, the feeling oozing of him and adding to your own shakiness, had it not been for the tenderness of his touch, you’d feign a slap to chase his hand away at the almost silly question – and at the sudden doubt in your knowledge and power and your reign over it.

“Steven, love, my apologies for the bluntness, but Prince Anthony is on his deathbed, so I cannot very well hurt him further and I shall have you known that this very potion you have drunk yourself-”

“For you,” he clarified, two soft syllables in contrast to your slightly exasperated words, your voice falling silent as sweet worry reflected in his sky-blue irises. Despite the circumstance, your heart seared at the fussing, no matter how groundless and ironic. “I am asking whether it is safe for you and our… our child to prepare that. I know it may seem irrational given why I am here, but-“

It was, you had to admit. And yet. You spent a precious moment, precious grains of sand falling in the ominous hourglass above your heads, placing your palm over his hand, reassuring.

“It is perfectly safe, rytier moj… certainly no more dangerous than rushing to the castle, the very heart of the Kingdom, and attempt to save the prince using the most outlawed practice in these lands,” you added with an unsteady cheekiness, earning an exasperated glare; and a full body shudder he couldn’t hope to contain.

The same tremble ran through your body; and yet, the whisper for caution was overshadowed by a tingle of energy unknown, a wordless encouragement. Almost a haunting promise from the Fate itself that bravery shall be rewarded.

But if that were true, where would the ever-present whispers of death and upcoming end fit in the mosaic then?

Shaking your head as well as the overwhelmingly bewildering sensations off, you charmed a soft smile for your lover and love – for the father of your child, already caring so deeply for the life to be born out of your love – and let your hand fall, turning back to your work as stream began to fill the cabin.

One last ingredient; a life essence to help maintain life.

You cradled the handle of the blade carefully in your hand, turning your other palm against the tip; the knife was out of your hand before you could comprehend how, pressed flat to Steven’s thigh, shielded from your touch.

“I’m sorry. I--- is that necessary?” Steven asked with a painful edge to his voice, his continued concern causing your heart to tremble.

“Yes… it is but a drop of blood, my love, I promise. A speckle of life essence to maintain life.”

His frown deepened as you reached for the knife again, fingers brushing his soothingly as you grasped at the handle. So many emotions played over his features; hesitance, concern, guilt. He must have realised you had used your blood before to cure him before you had even learned his name, another sacrifice having been made aside from having left yourself completely vulnerable to him when you had drained your magic and body alike to bring him from the death’s doorstep where you had found him at.

Then, an almost shy question, as if he felt too bold to even suggest such heretic thought.

“Life essence… would mine suffice, then?”

Where his implication was shy – that his mere mortal, human blood could match yours, the blood of a born witch – his determination was not.

He met your eye, a brilliant satisfied sparkle lighting up his irises when he read the truth in your hesitant gaze.

“Yes… it would. But-“

Your knight offered his left palm outstretched, no further questions. The bottomless trust in his gesture and in his eyes caused a lump to grow in your throat; the mere idea of cutting him, even if it was to only be but a scratch, had ache sting deep within your ribcage.

“Are you cert-“

“Would you rather I lead the cut myself, love?” he asked, his voice tender upon your hesitance, understanding the action would cause you pain – as if you were to hurt yourself instead.

And you might as well.

Your hands were made to heal his wounds, not cause them; your hands were made to erase his aches, not bring them; your hands were made to love, not hurt.

Your read in his gentle gaze as he nearly read in yours: I despise the thought of hurting you, rytier moj; It is but alright, bosorka moja.

You shook your head.

“I-- no. I may do it. I apologize, we do not have time for-“

A hand grasping your jaw, soft lips silencing your apologies; your eyes fluttered close despite seeing right through the trick. You felt the pressure of his hand against the blade, the silent sound of protest earning you a deeper kiss, a softer caress of his lips against yours, tasting sweeter than summer breeze, so achingly tender.

“There you go, bosorka moja…”

With his retreat, Steven ran his thumb over your cheek, smiling; then, he moved his injured hand into yours, leading you above the pot.

Slightly dazed and exasperated still, you sighed and carefully squeezed his wound to indeed only spare a drop of his precious blood.

As you pressed your lips to his fingertips in a thank you, you let your healing power flow through your touch, closing the cut your body should have worn.

“This had better be the only blood spilled today,” you whispered; and prayed too. You met your Steven’s stormy gaze as the contents of the pot sizzled, sweet coppery aroma rising in the air.

“It will, bosorka moja. It will.”

He sealed the deal with a kiss, sweet and desperate and bruising.

And falling on deaf ears, whisper in the crowns of the birch trees, his and your words echoed the very same song.

Blood had better be spilled…

Today, today, today…It will, it will, it will…

Next part

Other headcanon and playlist

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this universe

Complete masterlist

Endearments used: Rytier moj (My knight) Bosorka moja (Witch mine) Láska moja (Love mine)

I hope you liked this - let me know your thoughts!

May your November be sweet and cosy ✨

[di-42]

2024 fic roundup

Finally getting round to doing this! Just in time for the end of the year!

Many, many thanks to @curiouspupsicle and @bellisima-writes for tagging me all those weeks ago, ant to @cheeseplants for creating the questions. Enjoy curious's answers here, bellisima's answers here, cheeseplants's answers here.

What fandoms do you write in?

Good Omens, only Good Omens, nothing but Good Omens.

How many words have you published in 2024?

133k. Huh! Me?

What is your greatest achievement this year?

In the context of fandom and fanfiction, being brave enough to put myself out there and share my work is probably my greatest personal achievement. But I'm also quite proud to have plotted an 85k fiction while working 55 hours a week (and being lucky enough to have a husband and friends to spend my free time with).

What are your favourite top three fics you wrote this year?

That's an easy one! None of my favourite three are the ones with more engagement, strangely enough!

And I Did, rated E, 85k.

While I know this could have been written much better, I am incredibly proud of this fiction. It's whole season 3 fiction where I managed to pour all my headcanon in a way that hopefully doesn't feel too forced. I think it has an original plot, good side characters and tension. I tried to throw in some humour wherever possible as well. It features Supreme Archangel Aziraphale and Grand Duke of Hell Crowley. They haven't talked for almost two years. The end of the world is approaching. They are on opposite sides. And they both know neither of them was ever going to make a different choice to the one they made.

Only Ever Meant For Someone Else, rated T, 9k.

My first human AU, wheee! It was so much fun to write! I think writing human AUs allows so much freedom, although one shots and shorter stories can be a bit harder than canon compliant short stories. But I had a chance to explore some versions of the characters that I don't really see in canon, but very much enjoy in fictions, and wanted to try my hand at that. And I liked the result! Written for the Scribbling Vaguely Downwards advent calendar.

Every year, the night before Christmas, taxi driver Aziraphale drives passengers to and from the hospital for charity. On the Christmas morning of 2023 he was ready to go home and rest with a cup of tea, a mince pie, and a book after a long night.

Guess who?

“No, you may not!” Barked the other. Then he started pacing up and down the pavement, rambling to himself. “Anathema’s going to kill me. She’s actually going to kill me! She had to go into labour on fucking Christmas day, just my luck!”

Oh, dear.

“In-into labour?”

The stranger stopped pacing and, yet again, looked at Aziraphale sternly. He joined together the tips of his right thumb and forefinger, and punctuated his next words with a gracious movement of his hand.

“Yeah. It means she’s about to give birth.”

“Does it, now.”

Angel! Angel! They're At It Again! rated M, 5k

I really love this little story of mine. I've been told that it made some readers cry and laugh at the same time, and it doesn't get much better than that.

It's the year 2030. The world never ended. Aziraphale and Crowley are living happily and safely together as a married couple. Everything would be well, if it wasn't that lately Aziraphale has been a bit busy. A bit distracted. Now, Crowley can't have that, can he? He seeks the advice of his girlfriends, who unwittingly give him an idea on how to liven up his marriage.

A fluffy story about how we get to a certain cottage.

What was your biggest pit of despair moment?

Tying up all the loose ends in And I Did. Sometimes it felt like I was just hitting a wall and I couldn't possibly ever go through. I felt so embarrassed -mortified, really- that some people had read the story up to a certain point and I had just to let them down, because I couldn't possibly write anything that would make sense with the rest of the story. Even though the main points were planned from the beginning, there were still all those little details that write themselves, basically, and I had no idea what to do with some of them towards the end. I still don't know how I managed to pull it off, honestly, but somehow I did it in a way that I found satisfying enough.

What have you learned?

That people are so much better than I am. Really. And I don't mean at writing fiction. Well, people are better than me at writing fiction, but that's not what I mean here. The amount of people who are ready to read about someone else's ideas and headcanons with an open mind, enjoy stories that they don't necessarily agree with, is astounding. I have very much to learn from this community.

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground?

I could tell you. But then I would have to erase your memory.

A fiction that has never made it off the ground is a fiction that has yet to make it off the ground.

Did you beta any fics? Any favs you want to shout out?

I was asked a couple of times, but due partly to my lack of time, partly to English not being my first language, I had to reluctantly decline. I do offer my thoughts on my betas' fictions, though. One of them hasn't published her work yet, and the other has a fantastic one shot on Ao3, called The Corset.

Aziraphale never understood just why he had been issued with a body likes his. He was the Guardian of the Eastgate, after all! So when in the 17th century corsets for men were fashionable again, he had an idea ...

What three fics have you read this year that you love?

Hah! We both know it's not going to be only three, don't we?

Some of these fics were written before, some long before, 2024, but I only read them this year. It's quite hard to pick my favourites among so much talent and creativity, but I'll do my best. I also can't help but notice that my all time favourites are not among the superpopular ones, so please don't be shy and check them out! (And leave kudos and comments!)

The Beginning Of The End (Again), rated M, 78k.

Season 3 fiction full of plot, great characterisation, humour and pining. It has of course a happy ending. It is beyond me how this fic didn't get more engagement, especially when it first came out, closer to the end of season 2.

The Anon Before Christmas, rated E, 66k.

One of my favourite human AUs. The characterisation is spot on and the slow burn is just absolutely perfect. But I did love the whole array of characters surrounding Crowley and Aziraphale. I love how this story is as much about friendship and chosen family than it is about love and romance.

The Bookseller And The Garden, rated T, 13k.

Canon divergent fiction where Crowley is a demon stationed on earth, Aziraphale is an angel stationed on earth, but they have never met until present day. There's no end of the world in sight, only an angel and a demon falling in love and not knowing how to break it to the other that they're not human. I laughed all the way through.

Wrong Turn, rated T, 37k.

Honestly, I don't know why this fiction touched me so much. I just couldn't stop thinking about it for days after I finished it. It's a post season 1 fiction where Crowley suddenly finds himself in a parallel universe at the time the apocalypse is just about to happen. The Crowley and Aziraphale in that universe have a different history to our Crowley and Aziraphale. All our Crowley wants to do is to go back to his universe and his very own angel, but how? As you follow the main plot and focus on Crowley's thoughts and actions, you'll start slowly feeling the other story get hold of you, and it won't let go until the very end and beyond.

Happiness, More Or Less, rated M, 21k

This human AU moved me so very much I cried. Crowley moves into his new flat in Soho, only to discover the flat in haunted by the ghost of the owner of the bookshop downstairs. I won't tell anything else about the plot other than it does have a very sweet happy ending, and it gets there via a rollercoaster of emotions. This is really one of those fictions that leave me in awe of the fandom's talent and creativity. Read it, read it, read it!

One last one that I haven't finished reading yet, but I know it's one of my all time favourites, is The Last Angel, rated E, 162k.

Canon divergent fiction where Crowley and Aziraphale were never assigned to earth, Armageddon happened and hell won the war. I've said many things about this fiction, among which that I can't believe the writer does this in her spare time and writing is not actually her job, and this is the most Good Omens-y fic I have ever read. It's astoundingly good.

What ideas are percolating for next year?

Watch out for The Angel Horror Show! When I learned that Peter Hinwood, the actor who played Rocky in The Rocky Horror Picture Show didn't have a long career as an actor, bout instead went on to become an antiques dealer, I knew I had to write this fiction with Aziraphale as the actor who many years ago played Angel/Rocky in The Angel Horror Show and subsequent film The Angel Horror Picture Show and is now living a comfortable life as a book and antiques dealer, and Crowley as the actor who played Demon/Frank, and went on to become a successful movie and theatre actor and director. I've just started writing it and I'm extremely excited about it!

Who do you want to thank?

Without the shadow of a doubt @sabine-smitten-obviously and IneffableShortCake who have been so incredibly generous with their time and support in the past 8 months! But also everyone who's ever left me a comment making me feel like my stories were liked, from the long comments to the ones with just enthusiastic syllables, from the incredibly witty ones to the more personal ones, thank you, thank you, thank you!

Tag, answer any Qs that suit and play along!

I think because I'm so late in the game that most of the writers I would usually tag have already been tagged by someone else, but perhaps a few haven't done this yet.

@smua70 @ngk-668 @ineffable-duck7

And anyone who wants to answer!

This was fun!