#there’s me is such a beautiful declaration of platonic love it’s so special to me

[apri1-fool]

There’s me!

[friendsoup]

Could I perhaps request Dikke/Tennant with a reader who’s overly emotional/burnt out and cries a lot? (Currently happening to me and they’re like my comfort characters) thank you in advance 🫶🏻

Your Strength

Recipe: Dikke's can be read as romantic or platonic, Tennant's can be platonic if you squint, GN! Reader, Reader is called beautiful (many times), my dove and love, Both Tennant and Dikke are bad with genuine emotions, But they both Really Really care about You, Comfort fic, Shamelessly Indulgent WC: 1,998 (SO CLOSE) Chef's Note: AHHH I tried to get to this one as quickly as I could!!! I hope it's in time to make you feel better, anon :[!!!! Hopefully my work can brighten your day, at least a little bit :]! As always, thank you for the request!

Dikke has never been “in tune” with her emotions. Emotions were something strange and distant to her, they came and went as they pleased, leaving her feeling empty in their absence. To some, she came across as apathetic. That wasn’t exactly true, though. Her emotions simply never reached her face, despite how fiercely they roared in her chest. She could never quite tell how she was feeling. Though she could list symptoms of an emotion, she was never quite able to put a name to it, no matter how hard she tried.

The emotions of others were worse. She knew the basics. A frown meant sadness, a raised voice meant anger. But human emotion had so many intricate working pieces, an entire depth to them she couldn’t begin to understand. Sometimes a frown was meant jokingly. Sometimes a raised voice meant excitement. These little things made Dikke’s head spin.

So when you came into her room, and curled yourself into a ball on her bed, she didn’t know what to do.

The two of you had been seeing each other for quite some time now. Dikke didn’t put any labels on the relationship, and you didn’t mind that as long as you could keep her company. She was a strong shoulder to cry on, and though she was hesitant and awkward with your crying fits, you could always tell she cared.

Initially, Dikke didn’t look up from her blade. You entering her room was not a special event, you did this often regardless of how you felt. She greeted you, then continued to polish her sword, her eyes transfixed on it’s silver gleam. 

When you didn’t respond, a pang of worry hit her. Even at your worst, you always managed to mutter a hello.

She spoke your name softly, turning to you to gauge a reaction. When you did not move from your spot on the bed, her heart began to race. What had happened to you? Were you okay? Had she done something wrong? Had someone hurt you?

She spoke your name again, louder this time, worry dripping from her voice. 

Again, you did not respond.

Dikke put her blade down, discarding it on her desk without much thought. Her mind could not comprehend anything other than panicked thoughts about you. She stood, cautiously moving over to where you sat. 

She didn’t know what to do. Emotions were something so vague and strange to her. It killed her inside, but she knew she wasn’t best suited for the job. She was a hero of justice, meant to serve harsh judgements. She was never meant to be soft or kind or comforting. It wasn’t in her nature.

Hesitantly, Dikke reached out a hand, placing it on your shoulder. You shook beneath her touch, fighting back every emotion in your body. Dikke gave your shoulder a squeeze, as other knights had once done for her. 

“I’m no poet.” Dikke began, slowly scooching towards you. “I cannot sing you ballads of your beauty, nor write sonnets declaring my love.” She was sitting shoulder to shoulder with you now, her hand still resting on your arm. “I could try, if that’s what you wanted, but my voice was not built for anything but battle cries, and my rhymes would all come across as cheap.” When her words gained no reaction, she sighed. Usually, her attempts at jokes gained some sort of smile from you. “But, as a soldier, I can tell you how strong you are.” Her gaze settles on something far in the distance, her shoulders sinking, as if under some heavy weight. “I have seen only a fraction of the things you battle. I know only what you’ve shared with me, and the things we have fought together. Some, you will tell me with time. Others, I will never know.” “And that is fine. I do not need to know the extent of your war to know the strength of your character. I have seen great men fall to what you are fighting. Their minds unable to handle the stress their heart gives. You hold so much love, that it is painful to keep it all in your chest.” You lift your head, trying to form some sort of argument, but Dikke does not leave room for an answer. “Your love takes different forms,” She tells you, “Grief, guilt, anger. You torture yourself with the burdens of others. You try to carry the weight of the world, then grow frustrated when your shoulders grow sore, and your legs weak. You are not Atlas, my dove.” Her eyes flutter over to you, catching yours. “Some things are out of your control. Some things, you do not have to carry.”

“...But I do.” You argue, the words coming out too quick. “If I don’t care, nobody will. I need to prove myself worthy.” You sputter. Warm tears race quickly from the corners of your eyes, staining your cheeks.

“Worthy of what?” Dikke asks, her eyebrows drawn up in concern. “Of life. Of love. Of everything I’ve been given.” You can’t control your sobs now, they escape your lips, leaving you shuttering. “I need to make up for the fact that I exist.”

In one swift movement, Dikke pulls you to her lap. She wraps her arms around you, and you can feel her strength in her embrace. She doesn’t squeeze you hard, just enough to provide pressure. You can tell she’s holding back, as if worried she’ll break you.

“Please don’t say such cruel things to the person I love.” She begged, burying her face in your hair. “Please, be kind to them.” You were unable to say anything now, clinging onto Dikke with an intense desperation. You sobbed into her, unable to pull yourself together again. It was as if something inside you had broken, and now everything was pouring out. For so long you’d managed to keep yourself upright, yet Dikke had managed to destroy any wall you’d put up around yourself.

The two of you stayed there, tangled in each other for an hour. You, crying, and Dikke, muttering lovely words into your ear. Eventually, you grew tired, and fell asleep in her arms. Dikke was exhausted as well, yet she didn’t want to let go of you just yet.

Collapsing onto her bed, she cuddled into you, holding you tighter than she’d ever had before.

Your Beauty

“Genuine” had never been Tennant’s style.

She was a conwoman, who always got what she wanted from her clients. She used any tactic necessary to reach into their pockets. She’d been a lover, a mother, a friend, and an advisor to a wide variety of people. Never did she mean a word she said. It was all a game to her, her prize being the end goal. She didn’t care how she won it, in the end. As long as it was hers.

If you had been another noble lady, appearing on her doorstep in tears, she would have whisked you inside and poured you a glass of red wine. She would listen to your woes, but no matter their contents, she’d have the same solution. Treat yourself with diamonds, wear something nice to fight off the sadness. Show him how much you’re really worth by donning something shiny and expensive. By the end of the night, you would have been under her spell, and deep in her debt. But you were far from a noble lady.

Tennant had no idea how to act around you. She’d been a conning for so long, she forgot how to forge a connection with another human being. So, she treated you the only way she knew how. Soft flirting and batting eyelashes, wrapping you in her arms, but never staying long. The only difference between you and a client, is that she kept her free hand out of your wallet.

So when you showed up on her doorstep in tears, she had no idea what to do. Her mind instantly went to how she could bend the situation to gain your trust, which she hated, as she wasn’t trying to earn anything from you. Yet she didn’t know how to act in anyone else’s benefit. She was completely lost, trying to find some small glimpse of humanity in her heart.

She spoke your name once, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Her touch was light, almost as if she was afraid, as she gently pushed you into her room. “What happened?” She asked, casually. You took a seat on her couch, trying your hardest to muster any words. “It’s so much…” Was all you could say, between choking on sobs and sputters.

Tennant hummed, putting a kettle on heat. As long as she had something to do with her hands, she figured, you wouldn’t see how nervous she really was.

“I’m making tea.” She told you, no question if you wanted it or not. “I’ll make it sweet, for you.” She winked towards your direction.

When her flirt made no difference in your behavior, she grimaced. It was the only thing she knew how to do in this situation. How else was she supposed to get across that she wanted you to be okay? The two of you sat in relative silence. Her, fidgeting with the tea. And you, sobbing on the couch. Eventually, the kettle sang, and Tennant made a glass for both you and herself. Forcing a smirk back onto her lips.

She placed the tea cup down in front of you, and began to drink from her own. The warm cup bringing some comfort during this uneasy interaction. You sniffled, trying to pull back your tears for long enough to drink. When you managed through a shaky breath, you picked up the cup and began to drink. Tennant was right, she did make the tea sweet for you. It was the perfect amount, however. Not enough to rot your teeth, but enough to taste nice. The tea warmed the both of you, making it easy to find some tranquility. When you’d both finished your cups, the two of you sat there, unable to find any words.

You sniffled again, rubbing your sleeve over your nose. You were out of breath, your eyes red with tears, and your entire body shaking with emotional exhaustion. Tennant watched you, observing you closely. This was a private moment, she realized with great alarm. You did not show this face to just anyone. This was you at your lowest, at your most emotional. You were showing her something special, these were not just some pretty tears in order to gain sympathy. 

“You’re beautiful.” She said, without realizing the words were escaping her lips. Her eyes were wide, watching you with great admiration. 

“Right now?” You questioned. “I highly doubt it.” You almost laughed, confused by her sudden change in demeanor.

“Are you kidding?” Tennant spoke, suddenly breathless. “This is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you.” Your face grew hot at the attention, as you focused on fidgeting with your hands. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” You argued. 

Tennant shook her head, reaching forward for your cheek. She guided it gently, until the two of you were locking eyes. “Right now, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. More than diamonds, more than gold. You are a work of art, brilliant and bold. You are something to be marveled at.” “You have me at a loss. I don’t know if I want to keep this expression all for myself, or display your true beauty to the world.” Tennant’s gaze was so intense, you felt yourself melting underneath it. “Your tears are worth diamonds, I can only imagine what worth a genuine smile from your lips would bring.”

You looked away, the ends of your lips quirking up from the compliments. Tennant gasped, dragging a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Better than I could have ever imagined. Priceless.” She whispered.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Freddie deBoer

Published: Apr 29, 2022

Marianne Eloise wants the world to know that she does not “have a regular brain at all”. That’s her declaration, on the very first page of her new memoir, Obsessive, Intrusive, Magical Thinking. The book catalogues her experience of a dizzying variety of psychiatric conditions: OCD, anxiety, autism, ADHD, alcohol abuse, seasonal affective disorder, an eating disorder, night terrors, depression. By her own telling, Eloise has suffered a great deal from these ailments; I believe her, and wish better for her. But she would prefer we not think of them as ailments at all. And that combination of self-pity and self-aggrandisement is emblematic of our contemporary understanding of mental health.

Eloise is a champion of neurodivergence, an omnibus term that’s recently ballooned in popularity, which can include autism, anxiety, borderline personality disorder, or indeed any other psychiatric condition that’s hot right now. The term is designed for making sweeping pronouncements. Forget the fact that, say, autism and schizophrenia are so different that they have at times been described as opposite conditions. Forget the fact that saying you’re neurodivergent has as much medical meaning as saying you have a disorder of the body. The idea is that there’s a group of people whose brain chemistry differs, in some beautiful way, from some Platonic norm. And it’s an idea that’s taken on great symbolic power in contemporary liberal culture.

There is, for example, a thriving ADHD community on TikTok and Tumblr: people who view their attentional difficulties not as an annoyance to be managed with medical treatment but as an adorable character trait that makes them sharper and more interesting than others around them. (They still demand extra time to take tests, naturally.) It’s also easy to come across social media users who declare how proud they are to be autistic; I’m glad they’re proud, but their repetitive insistence makes me wonder who exactly they’re trying to convince, us or them.

Darker, there’s the world of “DID TikTok”. DID, dissociative identity disorder, is a profoundly controversial condition, once known as multiple personality disorder. Many serious experts question whether it exists at all; at the very least it’s incredibly rare. And yet thousands of adolescents have diagnosed themselves with the condition, and happily perform their various personalities for their social media followers, typically in ways that defy all established psychological understandings of the disorder.

Against this backdrop, Eloise is a marketing department’s dream come true: hers is a story of the young, beautiful, dysfunctional — and successful. Eloise is the perfect 21st-century woman, from a certain internet-enabled philosophy of human affairs. She is an admirer of witchcraft and believes that women have a mythical connection to water. She does a lot of drugs and becomes bisexual. She uses Tumblr and travels the world, vacationing in Lisbon and the south of France, and moves to Los Angeles to be an actor, taking care to embed that period of her life in a self-defensive patina of irony. She lives an enviable life of obvious socioeconomic privilege, which she does not have time to recognise, as she’s too busy cataloging her psychiatric maladies.

She crams them into every last anecdote: apparently nothing happens to her that she does not ultimately attribute to those maladies. Eloise’s love of swimming as a child is, for instance, laboriously explained in terms of her neurodivergence. I’m talking thousands of words. It seems never to have occurred to her that a love of swimming is not exactly rare among children, or that she doesn’t have to justify her joy at being in the ocean by making it “deeper”. Again and again, she holds perfectly mundane attitudes and behaviours up to the reader and says “Isn’t this special?”

The label of neurodivergence is so vague and capacious, pretty much anything can be pulled into its orbit and made “diverse”. There’s a meme that crops upon Tumblr, TikTok and Twitter that starts with “the neurodivergent urge to…” and is immediately followed by, well, just about anything a person does. Common examples include the neurodivergent urge not to reply to an email or to order food in rather than cooking what’s in the fridge.

Take Eloise’s nightmares. She has, at times in her life, suffered from debilitatingly bad dreams that made sleep a constant source of fear and pain. This sounds like an awful condition, and she deserves sympathy. But she gives the game away when she writes: “Maybe my relationship with dreaming wasn’t like everyone else’s.” Not like everyone else’s, no. But certainly like that of many people who suffer from recurring and terrifying nightmares. Eloise writes that, according to the Mayo Clinic, nightmare disorder “only affects around 4-5% of adults, which shocked me: did adults really not have nightmares?” It’s as if she genuinely does not know the difference between 4% and zero.

It is perhaps comforting to see every last detail of one’s life as the product of some uncontrollable force. “I am this way because I was born this way,” Eloise writes, in a remarkably bald denial of personal responsibility. As a pawn of the various interior forces that do combat in her brain, she is adamant that there is nothing wrong with her, that her suffering is all in service to some deeper way to live, and that she is proud of the very conditions she asks us to treat as a perpetual get-out-of-jail-free card for her behaviour.

The implication is that the neurodivergent might just be better than other people. As with introverts, social media users have developed a discourse around neurodivergence that is nakedly self-celebratory, a bragger’s genre. Eloise has clearly endured a great deal of hardship, but like her culture she seems to feel that this hardship can only be given meaning by being woven into a journey of self-actualisation. Eloise writes that her life is “underpinned and ultimately made whole by obsession”. Can you imagine a sadder statement: an adult telling you that there is nothing to distinguish her or give her value but her psychiatric conditions, conditions she shares with millions of others?

Diagnosis is the Holy Grail of the neurodivergence narrative. Eloise fixates on hers and its quasi-mystical powers. No reader could doubt that her problems are real, but she seems to have treated getting diagnoses like a consumer on Amazon. She states flat out, on several occasions, that she went shopping for an autism diagnosis, went to doctors with the express intent of wringing one out of them. There was a time when self-diagnosis was understood to be unhealthy, and perhaps embarrassing, but this is a brave new world we’re living in now.

Once enough people insist on mental illnesses as upbeat and fashionable lifestyle brands, then any of us who oppose it are guilty of the most grave sin of all, the sin of perpetuating stigma. It’s stigma to call autism a disorder, despite the fact that it renders some completely nonverbal and unable to care for themselves; it’s stigma to suggest that someone with ADHD bears any responsibility at all for problems at school or work; it’s stigma to speak the plain fact that people with psychotic disorders sometimes commit acts of violence under the influence of their conditions. It’s stigma, in other words, to treat those of us with mental illnesses as anything else than wayward children.

Stigma, that cartoon monster, has never been in the top 100 of my problems in 20 years of managing a psychotic disorder, but never mind; stigma is the ox to be gored in contemporary pop culture, and so we must fixate on it to the point that we sideline the health, safety and treatment of those with mental disorders.

What I find tragic about those who buy into the neurodivergence narrative is that they become their illnesses. And yes, there are alternatives. Eloise and people like her seem never to consider one of the possible ways that they could have dealt with their myriad disorders: to suffer. Only to suffer. To suffer, and to feel no pressure to make suffering an identity, to not feel compelled to wrap suffering up in an Instagram-friendly manner. To accept that there is no sense in which her pain makes her deeper or more real or more beautiful than others, that in fact the pain of mental illness reliably makes us more selfish, more self-pitying, more destructive, and more pathetic. To understand that and to accept it and to quietly go about life trying to maintain peace and dignity is, I think, the best possible path for those with mental illness to walk.

But in this culture, all must be monetised, all must be aspirational, anything can be marketed. Eloise lacks the self-awareness to ask whether there’s something exploitative and ugly about turning psychological illness into fodder for soap opera and motivational posters. Again and again in this book, Eloise gins up the kind of statement on mental health that you might find in an Instagram meme, wedges it awkwardly into some prosaic story about her youth, and then skips away. At one point she mocks “Airbnb-style Live Laugh Love signage”, and I could only think, you’re writing a book filled with it.

The most real, most human, most honest, and most humane part of Eloise’s book is something she wrote in a journal in 2009, when she was a teenager:

I fear my mind, as one single assembly by one fireman on fire safety in primary school caused this deep-seated fear. That shows the true extent of my mind’s power over me. Although these things are unlikely to happen, just yet, I fear every one of them one day. I don’t need a doctor to tell me that is a problem. But I want, so badly, to get better.

This is what it’s actually like to have a mental illness: no desire to justify or celebrate or honor the disease, only the desire to be rid of it. But the modern conception of neurodivergence (and disability activism generally) wants to have it both ways. Sometimes, people would prefer for you to think of their conditions as debilitating hindrances for which they may demand special dispensation. And sometimes they would like them to be seen as positive personality quirks that make them unique.

It is hard to witness the damage that has been done to this young woman, by a culture that insists she views her suffering as part of a beautiful journey. Today’s activists never seem to consider that there is something between terrible stigma and witless celebration, that we are not in fact bound to either ignore mental illness or treat it as an identity.

Were we wiser and more serious, we might be able to see psychiatric disorders as both natural and lamentable, as beyond the control of the individual but still within their responsibility. We would have sympathy for those who suffer from them, but recognise that sympathy only accrues to those whose conditions are unfortunate, unhealthy. We might be honest and say that, yes, it’s bad to be afflicted with psychiatric disorders.

We might, then, have the courage to say that mental illness sucks, that there’s nothing good about it, that the efforts to bend it into some superpower of greater creativity or deeper living is sour grapes from those who can’t escape. We might help people like Eloise, rather than celebrating them as self-actualised girlbosses. We might have the wisdom to ease her suffering, while we patiently tell her that there’s nothing beautiful about it.

==

Somewhere along the way we overshot “destigmatize” and ended up at “celebrate” and “reward.”

Not everything needs to be completely destigmatized.

[unhingedicedlatte]

"Seasick" - Shipping Rizzles on a Lesbian Cruise

Title of Fic: "Seasick"

Author: Sybilia

Fandom/Pairing: "Rizzoli & Isles", Maura Isles and Jane Rizzoli ("Rizzles")

TW: /

Rating: M

Synopsis: Angela Rizzoli wins a 7-day-vacation on a cruise across the Caribbean and wants her daughter, detective Jane Rizzoli, to come with her. But shortly before the ship's departure, Angela suddenly declares that she is feeling unwell and can't come on the cruise. This leaves Jane with her best friend, brilliant and nerdy Medical Examiner Maura Isles, as the "plus-one".

But when her and Maura enter the ship, Jane quickly comes to the conclusion that something on the "Olivia" smells - well, fishy? (sorry for the double entendre, lol). Not only are there solely women on the ship - the women all seem to be very interested in the same sex. Jane is mortified, especially when Maura points out that as the winner of the cruise drive, Jane is legally obligated to stick to the release she signed, which inlcudes leading various group activitites, posing for pictures and the like.

Jane would rather just up and leave but lets herself be convinced into staying (does she even have a choice, for real?). So, our two favorite Bostonians find themselves in an extremely gay environment, surrounded by hundreds of lesbians, and have to pretend being a couple as soon as they leave their cabin on the ship to participate in the various activitites and competitions going on.

But Jane would not be Jane without her competitive streak and she soon finds herself wanting to be the "Queen of all Lesbians", as the winner of the games is called. This leads to some pretty hilarious events like her participating in a "Lick clean an ice-cream bowl"-contest or a "penetrate donuts with a dildo on a harness strapped to your waist"-competition.

It does not only sound funny and weird as heck, it is! The wonderful thing about this fic is that there are multiple wonderful things, to be honest. The plot is so clever and original that you don't want Rizzles to leave that lesbian cruise ship ever again. But then we also have the beautiful, very accurate depiction of Maura and Jane who are written in character so very well by this crazily talented writer. The descriptions, be it of the games or the ship or the tourist destinations, are done in great detail and serve to make this story even more outstanding. Aaand as the special cherry on top, we also get the authors's OCs and all of them are utterly PRICELESS! We have former Wimbledon Champion, the unapologetically gay and deliciously unhinged Millie-Joyce Ming, famous singer and surprisingly tame diva Beata Frankenmeier and "Big Carl" Carla Timmons, another police officer ready for a good time among fellow lesbians.

And in the middle of this spicily sapphic ship, we have Maura and Jane, both secretly already harboring more than just platonic feelings for one another... but will they finally be courageous enough to admit their blossoming love for each other and go from "fake girlfriends" to "real couple"?

I cannot stress this often enough: READ THIS MASTERPIECE!! It is so wholesome and brilliant and great fun and romantic and wild and creative and had me laugh out loud in public again and again because the humor is simply impeccable. Read it. You won't regret it.

Also, make sure to check out the writer's other two stories, "Constant Companion" and "Seasick"'s sequel, "Cherry Grove", they are equally awesome!!

[acourtofthought]

People saying you're downplaying e/riel scenes when you just stating facts BASED on the same book we're all reading is so funny to me LMAO

I finished this series exactly 6 months ego and tbh I knew about e/riel, elucien and gwynriel situation and the whole ship war that is going on right now so I really tried to be open minded about them so I can choose wisely.

And let me tell you when I was so surprised that there are people (so many in fact) out there shipping e/riel (SPECIALLY AFTER AZ'S BONUS CHAPTER) was so baffling to me that I was sure I missed some parts... And I asked myself if they have ever read a romance book at all!!

Bc nothing about e/riel scenes felt romantic to me, platonic? Maybe. But romantic? Nope. Like I've read enough romance book to know how romance feels like in books (good romance novels tho)

And at first I thought I was the only one who felt about them like I do. Specially when I only read the books once and obviously you miss so many little details unconsciously. But I realised so many others who read with me and in general after acosf and they weren't in the fandom while the possibility of e/riel was kinda a lot, don't ship Az with Elain. And I love that about sjm bc even though you might not see the details she carefully puts in her books, you subconsciously get to the point where she wants to take you.

Yes at first I didn't saw the possiblity of gwyn and Az but after finishing the book I felt that there might be something after all then I saw the many little scenes they had in my second read that it's passable but it's there.

Or when I read the bonus chapter all I felt was this uncomfortable and uneasiness about e/riel scene. And in my second read I knew that sjm was pointing the fact that they're not it and the possibility of gwynriel went so high for me.

And then I saw your page and saw the many details about elucien scenes and both of them individually. Like sjm is really trying to tell us how this going to be but ppl are still oblivious about it and try to drag both gwyn and Lucien down (both of them are SA survivor and possibly the nicest character in the series who both deserve so much better) bc they feel threatened by them!!

Maybe if your ship was more based on romance and love and not lust (and not mentioning the fact that both Az and Elain are not mentally ready for any sort of romantic relationship and if they were, they wouldn't choose each other but they're not ready for that argument lol) we wouldn't be here at all...

This was my experience tho... everyone has a different one based on their reading comprehension :)

I hope you have a good day and thank you for showing me how beautiful elucien story can be<33

Thank you for your message!

I think your reading experience is similar to the one a lot of others had. And that in of itself should be a pretty big sign, right?

When people read romance books, they typically feel like they're reading romance.

No Elucien's think Elucien is in love or currently have feelings for one another, they see the potential of what could be when Elain and Lucien are in a place to fall in love.

No Gwynriels think Gwynriel is in love and currently have feelings for one another, they see the potential of what could be when Gwyn and Az are in a place to fall in love.

But a portion of the fandom insist that E/riel are in love.

Doesn't it seem strange that over 50% of the fandom doesn't get a true romance vibe between two people that some declare are in love? Attraction? Sure. But that's not the same thing as love and authentic feelings. I have to say, a romance author being unable to convince nearly all her readers that a couple has feelings for one another is not a very strong writer at all (which I believe SJM to be). And you mentioned this point but it's not even that some don't get a romantic vibe between E/riel, it's that they feel legitimately uncomfortable about his thoughts and behaviors towards Elain and a good romance shouldn't make you cringe, especially if you're reading an SJM book. When a couple is falling in love in one of her books, it's very clear what's happening. That's not to say her characters aren't morally gray and they're not a G rated Disney movie or first crush kind of love but you aren't left wondering if they guy actually likes the girl or whether he's just desperate to be included in the "Mated to an Archeron Sisters" Club like his brothers are. You're not left leaving an E/riel scene knowing that Az isn't reflecting on how amazing Elain is but instead is focused on how much he hates himself and is so jealous that he's going off half-cocked about killing allies with no regards to how immature he's acting. We don't leave his Bonus Chapter feeling good because we just witnessed him going on and on about how unique and special Elain is, we leave his Bonus Chapter focused on Az and his entire truckload of baggage.

Sure, SJM likes us to know that her males don't feel worthy of their female but it doesn't encompass their entire persona. And in this case, it's not Az not feeling worthy of Elain, it's Az feeling completely unworthy at all times which proves he is in no way ready to have anything with anyone at the moment.

[married-to-google-translater]

Can I get Rook + Vil with a fae pomefiore student? They have tea parties on the ceiling, everywhere they go tiny flowers 🌸 follow them in the air, leave a slowly disappearing path behind wherever they step. They're in tune with animals and nature, always willing to instantly grow a plant Vil may need for cosmetics, potions, etc. Started a small apple orchard for Epel, always bringing weird animals into the dorm. Rook's favorite was a fawn she raised that now stays in the Pomefiore gardens. How would they feel about living with such a strange student? Romantic or platonic.

Rook Hunt

Sometimes you feel like someone is staring at you.

Don't worry it's just senpai-Rook.

Rook would be really interested in you and your habits.

He would like to examine you as much as possible.

Others call it harassment, he calls it curiosity.

And because Rook is often close to you you will become really good friends.

You teach Rook things about fae culture.

Rook, on the other hand, will teach you different things about hunting.

He thinks you are really beautiful in both your looks and your personality.

Your helpful and friendly personality has truly charmed Rook.

And Rook really makes it show.

Rook will start giving you small gifts.

Often there is a bouquet of flowers or different perfumes in front of your room.

Rook has also made it a habit to write poems about your beauty.

The friendship between you will soon become a relationship.

Rook knows how to be really charming and persistent.

"Oh my dear love. Why are you stingy? Was it wrong to declare my love between you and Roi de Dragon drinking tea. I promise I won't do it anymore in this week."

Vil Schoenheit

Vil would be really impressed when he first saw you.

You were a really sophisticated, friendly and calm person.

You were the kind he wanted every Pomeofire student to be.

( He's looking at Epel)

So of course he would like to get to know your kind of "potato flower" better.

( Yes Vil calls you a potato flower or a flower potato. Not to criticize the nicknames he gives. )

Vil would love to drink tea with you.

Usually you drink it in the peace of the botanical garden.

This helps him especially when he is stressed.

Vil would definitely make you "special" accessories and clothes as well.

He always pays attention to any horn or tail.

Skin care is also important.

He doesn't want your scales to dry out too much.

Of course, Vil also asks for reciprocal services.

Usually it is related to some particular plant acquisition or cultivation.

Depends on what he needs for magic potions or makeup.

Your relationship is really gentle and loving.

" Thank you for helping me my dear flower potato. It is really kind that you agree to help me with these plants. How can I restore this? Would a spa day sound good?"

[randomshyperson]

hey, you :) can i request a wandaxreader christmas fic? i know it's kinda out of time lol but i just love christmas and miss it very very much. thx

Hello anon! How are you? This took me a while, but I've been kind of busy lately, hope you don’t mind. It’s sweet as you asked and it made me excited for Christmas.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - The Perfect Gift

Summary: The reader tries to find the perfect gift for her best friend Wanda Maximoff during her first Christmas with the Avengers.

Words:  5.283 K    // Read on AO3

Warnings> 14+ / A bit of language and anxiety/self deprecating thoughts suggestions, but is mostly fluff, kissing and teasing.

Marks> @mionemymind @wandamaximoffpuppy

You were having a little trouble finding the ideal gift for Wanda.

Two weeks ago, you had already finished buying the gifts for all the others Avengers, but with the redhead, you wanted to find something special. Maybe it was because she was your best friend, or maybe it was the secret crush you had on her.

Anyway, you were having trouble deciding exactly what would be good enough as a gift for her.

Pietro assured you that Wanda would like anything you gave her, but you wanted something amazing.

So here you were in the mall, arm in arm with the witch's brother, trying to find the perfect gift.

As it was Christmas, the place was crowded with people as desperate as you were. Fortunately, no one recognized you two, and you would remember to tell Natasha that a cap and a sweatshirt really do work as a good disguise.

After leaving the fifth store without liking anything, you heard Pietro let out an impatient grumble.

- I have an idea, you know? - He said when you stopped in front of a shop window. - Why don't you wrap yourself in gift paper? Wanda will love it.

You blushed, nudging him lightly on the shoulder.

- Shut up. - you mumbled clumsily. - Why don't you give me a real idea? Isn't there anything Wanda really wanted?

Pietro sighed, assuming a thoughtful expression.

- I don't know, I guess not. - he says, putting his hands in his pockets. - You know what she likes, why don't you give her a DVD or something?

- I said I want it to be special. - You reply, looking around. - I just need to find the right thing.

- I am hungry. - He grumbles, then starts walking toward a doughnut cart. You hurry to keep up with him, having become slightly distracted. - I don't know what you want to do, but you can try to make something for her. 

- I don't know how to do these handcrafted things. - You say, running your hand through your hair. Pietro joins the line at the cart, and you stand in silence while he buys some sweet doughnuts. 

- It doesn't have to be a handmade thing. - He says as he picks up the doughnuts. - You can prepare something for her. A dinner, for example.

And then you stop walking, widening your eyes.

- You're a genius, Pietro. - You tell him happily, thrilling at the thousands of ideas that come to you. He frowns in confusion. - Now I need you to tell me exactly what you two used to eat in Sokovia.

//-//

On Christmas morning, you jump out of bed bright and early, extremely excited. You shower, and put on some comfortable clothes, and then leave the room. You are quite impressed by the Christmas decorations that Tony has put up for the night. There are garlands, and small trees, and colorful ornaments scattered throughout the hallways. You smile when you notice the little holographic Santa Claus walking through the compound.

Squinting slightly, you walk toward the kitchen while ignoring the nervousness in your stomach as you prepare Wanda's breakfast, also know as the first stage of her Christmas present.

No one is awake yet, and you take the opportunity to turn the stereo on low while humming a rock song from the 50s. You are distracted by making some Grénki, when you hear a whistle, and let out a startled exclamation.

- Where is the fire? - Ironized Natasha as she entered the kitchen, a playful smile on her face as she sat down on the seat in front of the counter. - You waking up early is a Christmas miracle.

- Ha-ha very funny. - You retorted in the same ironic tone, turning your attention back to your food. - Merry Christmas, Nat. And good morning.

- Good morning, sweetie. - She says slightly distracted, looking curiously at what you were doing. - Aren't you going to tell me what it is?

- It's not for you. - You say humorously, walking around to organize the tray you're taking to Wanda. - This is my present for-

- Your girlfriend.

- Nat! - you exclaim with flushed cheeks. - Wanda and I don't...

- Yes, yes! - she interrupts with a slight laugh. - It's just a healthy, platonic friendship with lots of affection. And touch.

- You know you don't have to be jealous, I'll let you have some of the food. - You scoff, trying to change the direction of the conversation, and Nat laughs.

While you set up the tray, and pour some coffee, you both remain silent. But then Nat asks:

- You are still going to attend the party tonight aren't you? Tony is excited about this.

- Oh, yes. - You confirm with a smile, pouring Nat some coffee. You also hand her some Grénki, and she smiles in appreciation. - I have the slight impression that the participation of all the avengers is mandatory.

Nat laughs, nodding her head in agreement. And then you let out a sigh. The tray was ready.

- Nice breakfast to you both. - She teases you with an insinuating smile, and you ignore the feeling that your face was getting warm and thank her, carrying the tray toward Wanda's room.

//-//

Your hands were sweating a little when you entered the room. Wanda was still asleep, and you placed the coffee tray on the bedroom table as you made your way toward her bed. Kneeling beside the bed, you called softly a few times to wake her up, while you shook her knee lightly over the blanket. Wanda grumbled, pressing her face against the mattress, looking absolutely adorable.

- Come on, Wandy, I have a surprise. - You said softly, smiling at her. She opened one of her eyes, interested, causing you to laugh softly. You then stood up, walking toward the table as Wanda stretched out in her bed.

You picked up the tray, and turned, walking back to the bed as Wanda sat up, running her hands over her face to wake up completely. 

- What is this?- she asked in a hoarse tone as you approached. Then you put the tray on her lap, and stepped away, wringing your hands lightly.

- I made you a proper Sokovian breakfast. - You declare with a smile, and Wanda stares at the tray in her lap in surprise. You swallow dryly. - Pietro told me what you ate as children and I tried to make it as similar as possible. But it's okay if you hate it…

- Thank you. - She interrupts impressed. - That's... That's very sweet of you.

You look away, embarrassed by the way Wanda is looking at you. But then she is letting out a sigh of excitement, and starts tasting the items, and your heart is racing because she looks absolutely beautiful with her slightly tousled hair, and her cheeks flushed, as she makes satisfied noises when  tasting the food.

Wanda looks at you again.

- This is so good. - She comments with a smile. - Don't just stand there, sit here with me. Let's eat together.

You laugh shyly, doing as she told you. And as you two are sharing the breakfast, the door opens again, and Pietro is rushing into the room, flopping down on the bed next to Wanda while shouting "Merry Christmas”.

- Wow, that looks tasty. - He comments as soon as he notices the tray, but Wanda pats his hand when he threatens to take it some of the food.

- It is my present, not yours. - She grumbles, and he pretends to be offended.

- Haven't you ever learned that you must share things? - He scoffs, using his powers to steal one of the buns quickly and Wanda lets out an angry exclamation, but he laughs, stopping her from taking the item back with his speed. You laugh at the interaction.

- I made more of those, you know. - You joke. - No need to fight.

- Of course not. After all, the breakfast was my idea. - Pietro retorted with irony, causing you to roll your eyes with amusement.

- Oh yeah, you're going to bring that up now aren't you? - You smile back and Pietro laughs lightly, taking a bite of the bread. 

You are silent for a moment, just eating together, until the boy speaks again.

- I came to tell you two that we're opening presents during the party tonight. - He said, wiping his hands on a napkin. - Tony just told us all in the kitchen. I said I would tell you both since you are making your platonic move on my sister.

You feel your face getting very hot at Pietro's insinuation, and you look down at your own lap, dryly swallowing your nervousness. Wanda feels her heart race, and looks at you, but you're looking down, and she's embarrassed and guilty that you're uncomfortable. Then she gives a angry look at Pietro, but he doesn't seem to care much.

- Anyway, you have been warned. - He says smiling. - When you're done with the second part of your gift, come spend some time with me. I want to beat your ass at Call of Duty.

- Second part? - Wanda asks with a frown of surprise and confusion, and you look at Pietro reproachfully.

- Damn, I forgot it was a surprise. - He says as he notices your gaze, but he is already getting up. - Good luck anyway.

You sigh as the boy uses superspeed to leave the room, and you run your hands through your hair. And then Wanda is looking at you expectantly, and you lets out a short laugh.

- It's a surprise, Wanda, there is no point in looking at me like that. - You tell her with a smile and she makes an excited noise with her mouth, and you laugh. - After lunch, I'll take you out. Make sure to hear something warm, because it's snowing.

When Wanda finishes her breakfast, you take the tray back to the kitchen while she goes to take a shower. You ignore the feeling of having her arms around you when she hugged you to thank you for the present, and force yourself to stop grinning like an idiot when you enter the kitchen.

- Merry Christmas, Y/N. - said Bucky as soon as he walked into the kitchen while you were washing the breakfast dishes. 

- Merry Christmas, Buck. - You replied, smiling when he kissed you on the cheek. 

- I heard that you made a special breakfast for a certain little witch. - He remarked as he left the newspaper that he was carrying on his hand on the counter, while he picked up a dishrag and began to dry and put away the dishes you had already finished washing.

- Natasha is making fun of me, I imagine. - You mumble with a laugh, and Bucky chuckles, agreeing.

- You can bet she is. 

You finish washing the dishes in silence, and Bucky hands you the dishrag to wipe your hands, while he has a thoughtful look on his face.

- You do know that Tony has spread several mistletoe around the tower, don't you? - He remarks with an insinuating smile, and you blink in confusion. He chuckles. - I'm just saying it might be an opportunity to, you know.

And then you understand and widen your eyes in surprise, feeling your face heat up.

- I don't... What... We don't...She’s not...

- I didn't even say a name. - He sneers, making you blush more.

Bucky laughs at your state, and pats you on the shoulder, before walking out of the kitchen, humming a Christmas song. You bite your lip, imagining you and Wanda in the hallway, a mistletoe above your heads, and her leaning toward you. And then you shake your head slightly, trying to push those thoughts away, while repeating that you are best friends. And that your best friend is a mind reader, so you'd better keep those thoughts very quiet.

//-//

At lunchtime, after doing your few chores for the day, and telling Pietro that you wouldn't play with him because he almost ruined the surprise, you returned to Wanda's room. Wearing clothes warm enough to go out in the snow, and with two tickets in your jacket pocket. You didn't even have to knock, and Wanda was already using her magic to open the door, and she seemed excited.

- Will you tell me where we're going now? - She asked as you signaled for her to follow you down the hall, and you laughed.

- You'll know when we get there. - You retorted with amusement, biting your lip when Wanda made her puppy dog eyes at you, trying to get you to tell her. - It's no use, honey, this pretty eyes of yours won't work.

Wanda laughed lightly, her cheeks flushed at the compliment, giving up. You borrowed one of Tony's cars, telling the redhead that if she didn't tell him about it, you wouldn't either.

Driving for a few minutes while you and Wanda hummed along to the selection of Christmas tunes on the radio, you finally arrived.

The European Christmas Fair was set up in downtown New York, and was a long row of food and craft stalls, with items from many European countries. When you heard that there would be stands from Sokovia, you bought tickets.

The place was quite crowded, and Wanda let out an exclamation of excitement when you pulled into the parking lot, and she could see the big banner up high with the name of the event.

- My God, are you for real? - she asked in disbelief. 

- Am I suppose to take your statement as "I liked it"? - You retort playfully but slightly unsure, and Wanda laughs, advancing towards you.

She hugged you tightly around the neck, and then began to kiss you repeatedly on the cheek, making you laugh and blush. She pulled away, bouncing with excitement, as she entwined your hands and pulled you toward the event.

After handing over the tickets at the entrance, you didn't mind that Wanda's hand was still in yours. 

You strolled for hours among the stalls, tasting different foods, and looking at the shelves. You bought some souvenirs for Wanda, and she did the same for you. And then you found the Sokovia stall, and you tried to learn slangs and dialects in the language, with Wanda and the stall mistress as your guides. When you whispered to the lady to teach you how to say "you look very pretty", Wanda laughed with flushed cheeks when you tried to say it to her, helping you to pronounce it correctly afterwards. You ended up tasting soups of different flavors, and other typical foods.

And at the end of the day, you took Wanda to see a fireworks display, and it was almost nine p.m when you got a message from Nat telling you that the party was about to start and Tony was asking about you two.

As you both walked back to the tower, you think that if anyone asked you, you would say that it was the best afternoon of your life.

//-//

Tony's party was surprisingly Christmasy and cozy. You would think he would do something big and fancy, with electronic music and gala costumes. But he just organized a meeting among the Avengers, and asked everyone to wear comfortable and warm clothes.

He had set up a big tree in the room, and the presents were on the bottom. The same decorations that you had noticed earlier were now accompanied by twinkling lights, and there were other smalls holograms of reindeer and sleighs moving all around the place. You and Wanda exchanged an amused look as you took off your coats and walked toward the living room.

There was a table full of typical Christmas foods set up in the living room, and you noticed that the whole team was already sitting on the couches and armchairs, and it looked like Clint was telling a funny story. When Tony noticed that you two had arrived, he let out a happy exclamation.

- Finally, girls! - he remarked with a smile. - I was about to send a suit after you two.

- It's not even ten o'clock Tony. - You countered in the same tone and approached the food table, while Wanda sat down on the couch next to her brother. - Yay, cookies.

- We've been waiting for you to exchange gifts. - He clarifies and you make a noise of understanding as you grab some cookies before moving toward the couch. 

Your natural instinct is to go toward Wanda, but since she has sat on the end of the sofa, you sit in the free chair next to Nat. 

- Did you enjoy your date? - She quietly asked you with an insinuating smile, and you felt your face heat up. Clearing your throat, you nodded in agreement.

And then Tony let out an excited exclamation, picking up three packages from the tree. He tossed each one to its respective owners and then picked up more gifts, repeating the action until everyone had a gift to open.

- I'll start obviously. - He declared as he began to tear open a golden package. - Who gave me a book, people?

The group laughed, and then Steve raised his hand. 

- Please finish opening the present.

Tony looked at him suspiciously, finishing tearing open the package. Then he let out a surprised exclamation.

- What? - He seemed to be talking more to himself than to anyone else. And then the group became curious. - "Advanced Mechanics, autographed and annotated edition by Howard Stark" - Tony read from the cover, and then turned to Steve. - H-How did you get this? My father only autographed copies during the war, and...

- Yeah, i know. - Steve interrupted with a smile. - I was there myself. Actually, this was my copy and I just got it back from S.H.I.E.L.D now. I thought it would be a nice present to you.

- Damn it, Cap. You're going to make me cry. - Retorted Tony with a smile as he reached over to hug Steve. The group let out an excited chorus. You smiled fondly when you saw your friends hugging, Steve whispered "Merry Christmas buddy" as they parted.

The gift exchange became kind of generic yet sweet after that. Since everyone had to buy gifts for everyone, most members got new clothes, or simple souvenirs, or electronics. Besides jackets, socks, and a headset, you also got a box of Belgian chocolates from Clint, and you were very pleased. And then you had a gray package in your hand, and you tore open the wrapping with curiosity.

Your breath caught in surprise. In your hands was a board game. But not just any board game. It was the same game you used to play with your siblings when you were a kid, an item you thought you would never see again. 

- How...? - you whispered as you examined the box. Several memories invading your mind at once.

- I guess we're back to emotional gifts, guys. - Tony commented with light excitement as he noticed your reaction. - Share your gift with the group please, Y/N.

You swallow dryly, trying to control your emotion.

- It's a board game. - You say turning the gift over so the team can see the cover. - I used to play when I was a kid. I couldn't even remember how it looked but seeing this again brought so many memories back. How...

- You dream about it sometimes. - Wanda says shyly, and you and the team look at her in surprise. - It took a while but I found it online.

You think Natasha said something about this being really sweet, but your heart is racing as you look at Wanda. She blushes but holds your gaze, smiling coyly. And then Bruce asks you if he can look at the game, and you blink in confusion, turning your attention to him.

Later, when all the presents on the tree have been opened, Tony and Steve hand out blankets to everyone, because even with the tower heater, it is considerably colder.

And then you and Bruce go out to the kitchen to serve everyone eggnog, and Pietro uses his speed to deliver all the mugs quickly. When you go to sit down again, the team moved around the seats and Wanda opens the blanket for you to join her.

Completely wrapped in the warmth of the blanket and the girl next to you, you feel your chest heat up with comfort. The avengers begin to share life stories in the next moment, each one with their own mug of hot drink.

You are about to fall asleep when Natasha starts humming a Christmas song, and soon the whole group is singing along. You chuckle lightly, watching the scene. Then you rub your eyes, trying to stay awake as you join them. 

Thor is the first to fall asleep a while later. He lays his head against the couch support, and a moment later Bucky is asleep on his shoulder. Tony and Steve sleep on the floor, Tony's head resting on the captain's lap. Soon the other members are falling asleep in the same way. You blink, and notice a blue flash. Pietro is collecting the empty cups to avoid any rest of the drink the spill, and he smiles quickly at you when he notice you awake. You decide to help him, moving slowly on the blanket so as not to awaken Wanda, who had just fallen asleep.

You carry your mugs back to the kitchen, and Pietro appears at your side soon after.

- Man, I loved that. - He comments with a smile, and you nod in agreement.

- Yeah, me too. - You say. - It's the most peaceful we've been in a long time.

- By the way, thanks for the game. - He mentioned the video game you had gifted him while leaning back against the counter. - But it's a tricky gift, because you'll also enjoy it since you'll be playing with me.

You laugh, shrugging your shoulders. Pietro lets out a yawn.

- I'm tired, but I'm going to go back to the room and play for a while. - He counts and you nod. He gives you a hug, and wishes you a Merry Christmas before leaving.

You bite the inside of your cheek next, remembering Wanda's latest gift. It is a DVD collection of old American sitcoms, editions with behind the scenes and commentary, and you had left it in your room, hoping to give it to Wanda after the party. But now that she was asleep, you thought it best to go back to your room.

You almost screamed with fright when you tripped over the redhead on your way out of the kitchen, and looked behind her to see Natasha moving around on the couch, probably having heard your surprised exclamation, but she didn't wake up. 

Wanda exchanged a giggle with you, signaling for you to be quiet, and you bit your lips to keep from laughing. 

- Are you going to bed already? - she asked softly, and you denied it with your head.

- I was going to, but now that you are up, I want to give you your last present. - You tell her, nodding for the two of you to leave the room. Wanda looks at you curiously, but follows you to your room.

As you walk toward your closet, she closes the door.

- You're spoiling me today, printsessa. So many gifts - She comments with a smile, and you bite your lip trying not to show how much you like the nickname.

She sits on your bed looking at you expectantly as you walk toward her, a neatly wrapped present in your hands.

- This is the last one, I promise. - You assure her with a small smile as you hand her the item. 

And then Wanda is carefully undoing the loop, and when she finishes opening it, she lets out an excited giggle.

- This is absolutely amazing! - she says, running her fingers along the DVD cover. You smile, putting your hands in your pockets. But then Wanda bites her lip, and is quiet for a moment, her expression serious. You blink in confusion, but before you can ask what's wrong, she's talking again. - Why are you doing all this?

You stare at her for a second, your heart racing. Shifting the weight of your feet, and looking down at the ground afterwards.

- I just wanted your first Christmas with the Avengers to be special. - You lie, risking a look at her. There is something in her gaze that tells you that this is not the answer she expected, or that she doesn't believe you.

- Is that the only reason? - she asks. You think you are imagining the thread of insecurity in her voice.

You swallow dryly, nodding in agreement. Wanda forces a smile, looking away. Then she is placing the gift on the bed.

- I'm tired now. - she says clumsily. - But I loved all the presents.

You nod frantically, watching her get up. It's a cue for saying goodnight, and you swallow the bitter feeling in your stomach as you smile and walk toward the door, Wanda following you.

You open the door, and she step out, but turn around as you shift the weight of your feet, smiling slightly at Wanda standing in the doorway.

- Good night then. - She says slightly hesitant. 

- Good... 

Your sentence dies in your mouth when something catches your attention and you look up in confusion. The hologram of Santa Claus coming down from the door frame to the top of her head. Wanda looks surprised too. And then you feel your face heat up as the image turns into a mistletoe.

- What the...? - You frown in confusion, but the picture doesn't change even when you run your fingers up at it. And then Wanda lets out a giggle.

- Well, a tradition is a tradition. - She says before moving closer, and giving you a lingering kiss on your cheek that completely takes away your ability to think.

She remains very close even after she moved away, and her pupils are fully dilated in her green orbs, drawing the air from your lungs. You want to kiss her. Very much.  And this thought keeps looping over and over in your head.

- Wanda, I.... - You start hoarsely and breathlessly, but the redhead just nods.

- Do it.

So she had read your mind after all. You didn't care, though. Not when you closed your eyes and brought your mouths together.

It was sweet and tender, just as you expected a first kiss, or a kiss under the mistletoe to be. And then you pulled away, your lips tingling, as you pressed your foreheads together and normalized your breathing. 

You looked up, a playful smile on your lips. The mistletoe was still there.

- I guess we'll have to continue then. - You commented with an amused smile and Wanda let out a giggle, bringing her hands up to your face.

- Yes, it's a tradition. - She whispered before joining your mouths in a much less innocent kiss. You felt your body shiver as she pulled your face to her, her fingers stroking the hair at the nape of your neck. You moved your hands up to her waist, and she stumbled into the room, dragging you along with her as you closed the door with one of your hands.

Neither of you notice the low celebratory chorus at the end of the hall, or the remote control in Tony Stark's hand, deactivating the hologram on the door.

//-//

You two kiss until you are breathless, and your lips are swollen and your hearts are racing. At some point you fall onto the bed, with you on top of Wanda, your kisses gradually slowing down.

- Hey. - You say breathlessly as you part, a silly smile on your lips. Wanda looks at you adoringly, and you feel your heart race even more.

- Hey. - She greets back, stroking your cheek with her thumb. Then you're lying on the bed beside her, leaning your face against your arm to face her, and Wanda mimics your position.

- I have another reason. - You say after a moment. She frowns in confusion. You swallow dryly before you clarify. - To give you the gifts. I have another reason.

Wanda bites her lip, waiting. She starts running her fingers down your cheek, tracing your skin and making you smile. 

- I... - You start feeling your heart racing. Wanda's gaze is making you nervous. Then you sigh, trying to calm yourself. You start thinking too fast afterwards. She just kissed you, she must feel the same way. But maybe she only did it because of the mistletoe tradition. Or maybe she just wanted to kiss, because people do it without being in love with each other. If you confess,  things would get awkward, because Wanda is absolutely breathtaking and she wouldn't like you that way. You find yourself starting to sink into derogatory thoughts about yourself in the next moment, thinking about how you would never deserve someone like her.

- Your thoughts are loud. - She declares with a slightly concerned expression as she lets her fingers caress the back of your neck. You blush clumsily, ready to apologize, but Wanda is moving closer again, bringing your foreheads together. - Why are you thinking such cruel things about yourself?

You swallow dryly, closing your eyes, trying to clear your mind as your therapist has taught you. 

- I can't help it. - You confess in a whisper, and then Wanda's nose is touching yours while her fingers remain in your hair. - I'm sorry about this.

- I don't like when you think that kind of nonsense. - She says, bringing your lips together quickly, and then she is pulling away only to kiss your cheek. - None of it is true. - she whispered, her lips caressing your skin. - You are simply spectacular and my favorite person in the world. - She says against your lips, making you shiver a little. - And I'm completely in love with you.

You open your eyes in surprise, feeling your face heat up. Although Wanda also has flushed cheeks, she smiles with confidence.

- Do you really mean that? - You ask in a slightly trembling voice, but Wanda's smile does not falter as she nods. You let out a sigh of relief and happiness, burying your face in Wanda's neck and wrapping your arms around her waist. You envelop her completely, rolling on top of her on the bed and she giggles against you, enjoying the warmth of your body.

- Kiss me again, please. - She asks playfully against your ear, and you blush, burying your face even deeper into her collarbone.

- I'm hugging you now. Kissing is for later. - You declare against her skin, eyes closed as you enjoy Wanda's scent. She laughs softly, her hands caressing your back.

And you think she has accepted your statement, but then her fingers lightly invade your shirt, caressing the skin of your waist, making you shiver at the sensation.

You let out a satisfied sigh, but don't let go, and Wanda lets out a mischievous laugh when you shiver briefly as you feel her fingers going up the base of your spine.

- That's not fair. - You grumble against her skin. And when Wanda's fingers start to rise even more, you sigh with both pleasure and impatience. - You're going to play like this, then? That's fine.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, not knowing what you mean, but then she closes her eyes tightly when she feels you deposit a wet kiss against her collarbone only to bite and suck her sensitive spot next, her fingers stopping the movement the same minute she moans.

You smile at the reaction you have wrung from her, and move your kisses up her skin to her chin, until you finally bring your lips together again. 

After many long stolen kisses, you fall asleep completely entwined in each other. Definitely the best Christmas ever.

[originaldanganronpascenarios]

Drv3 boys request. Best friend-crush reader constantly gets confessed to and hit on bcuz of their beaty and very admirable personality, but alway declines(cuz they like the boys). The boys want to ask out reader but is scared they’ll reject them like the others and it would ruin their friendship. How would they react when reader suddenly makes a big romantic gesture and ask them out instead?

I didn't expect the last part of this ask Aaaa that's amazing.

V3 boys with a crush that constantly gets confessed to... That confesses to them!

Ryoma Hoshi

Do you really think that he even thought of confessing to you? All those people he witnessed confessing to you made you extremely uncomfortable.

So there's no way that he's going to say it and be another person on this list. He's perfectly fine being your close friend. Actually it's more than enough.

It's a bit funny really. He doubts any possible feelings you may or may not have for him while you reject everyone just to be with him.

But it's not like he thought it'd be good for you to like him. Heck he thought that you being friends was a bit dangerous for you.

So even if you shared mutual feelings it doesn't really mean that he would accept it. There was a slight possibility that he'd reject you.

You were aware of this possibility, but you still wanted to try. You had to!

You had the flowers, the time and the place. Ryoma was a little early but it's not like you were possibly bothered by it.

He was a bit surprised to see you holding flowers but there was no way it could-

You turn towards him and give him the flowers. But the most shocking part was you asking him to date you.

He wanted to think that you're joking but he knew you weren't. His silence made you anxious.

"So... You rejected everyone because you liked me? Geez you have an odd taste kiddo" he joked still not believing it was happening "I might not deserve it but- I feel the same about you"

Gonta Gokuhara

It was a bit weird when people had the guts to confess to you while you were hanging out with him.

The fact that someone wanted to tell you something while you spend time with him didn't bother him... But the fact that it made you uncomfortable did.

So he wanted to help you. Picking less crowded places, trying to make you appear busy. He asked if you agreed for him doing so. The second you change your mind he'll stop.

But you had just the thing that would stop at least the ones that are decent and know when to back off.

And it's of course confessing to Gonta and if he likes you back your relationship will be official right away.

You didn't do it to use him obviously- you liked him for a long time and what I just said was a joke.

You wanted this to be special since he was special. You thought about your favorite places and found a perfect option.

There was a lake where you often could see lots of dragonflies. And although it's not his favorite kind of a bug this lake is one of the first special places he took you to. So it had that sentimental points.

When he showed up you decided to first have a warm conversation before you told him how you feel.

The grass was soft but not as soft as he felt when you told him this. He was overjoyed and did speak ever so slightly louder.

"Gonta would love to be with Y/N! Gonta swears to make Y/N happy everyday!"

K1B0

It took him a while to figure out his feelings... When he did things got a bit awkward for him.

He was scared to change things between you two... But he wanted things to change. He wanted to be with you, to be able to hold your hand, be the reason why you're smiling and to make you feel how he feels around you.

He didn't wanted to be like all those people saying sweet nothings out of nowhere, disturbing you and even being rude to you when you reject them.

But of course those things are something he wouldn't dare to do... He just didn't wanted you to think that he's like those people.

There was no other choice, he had to grin and bear it. With time you had realized and connected the dots that he liked you too and you couldn't be more happy.

Even though it was just a silly assumption the very thought of being with Kiibo just made your day.

Now it was time to make that thought into reality! And you had a silly plan that probably would work.

You were listening to music together- but between the songs there was one audio file of your confession.

While you cringed at the sound of your recorded voice he was shocked.

He didn't really believe what was happening so he asked if you recorded it. When you admitted to it he didn't really know how to react.

"I- uhm- I like you to. Sorry I just don't know what to say, I'm so happy!"

Kaito Momota

He was over the moon about his feelings for you actually, but he had no problem keeping it to himself.

Knowing how many people made you uncomfortable with their confessions he thought it'd be best if he waited it out and most importantly respect and ask what your feelings are in the first place.

He didn't really think when he asked if you liked anyone. But as he found out that yes, there was someone he was ready to support you.

Although he'd be lying if he said he wasn't jealous... Or angry about the fact that you won't tell him who you like.

He'd try to guess but he couldn't. At that point he thought that he did guess at one point and you just said no anyways.

You knew that with him you had to be straightforward. Of course he probably would be able to tell your intentions but it'd be ideal to let him know without having to worry if he thinks it's platonic.

So you were ready for anything even to bluntly correct him.

When you were hanging out he noticed that you were acting a bit differently and he thought it was becouse he was forcing you to tell him who do you like so you're trying to be cautious around him.

So he apologized for that and ended up giving a few hints that he might like you back.

It gave you some confidence boost so you had a perfect opportunity to strike, and that's exactly what you did.

"What!? It was me all that time!?... You could've just said so. I was worried that I'll never get to tell you how I feel"

Shuichi Saihara

He tried to pay no attention to all those people who declare their love to you. Some were flashy with their confession while some just told you about their feelings.

He was a bit jealous over all those admirers... Not because you had so many. It was because he wished to be as brave as them and tell you how he feels.

But it's not like he could easily admit to it himself. He just didn't know what to say and with each admirer he became more and more scared.

One day he just asked- okay more just blurted out the question if you liked someone.

You weren't lying when you said yes, but you needed some time before you tell him you-know-what.

So his any interest to confess to you was out of the window. But he prepared himself to support you and your future partner.

His question prompted you to step up and finally confess. Since he's definitely going to start guessing.

That was what you assumed, Shuichi didn't actually want to know who you fell for. He only "knew" that it wasn't him.

You decided to confess in a bit risky way. What I mean is: you left a confession letter inside a novel you let him borrow. It could fall out at any time!

You were worried this might happen but soon enough you got a message from him.

He would call you and thought a lot about doing so but he knew he'd be at loss of words so he just decided to text you instead.

"Do you really like me?" this was a sign that he did in fact get your letter.

After that you texted for a while but as to his feelings for you, he decided that he'll try to tell you in person.

Rantaro Amami

He never paid much attention to his feelings. So even when he realized that he's in love he knew he shouldn't say anything.

Looking how many people you rejected he thought you weren't interested in anyone at all.

Of course there were some people you considered strangers. But there were few that were close to you too.

And hey being friends with you was super fun. So why should he make things awkward by letting know how he feels?

You can't have everything in the world and for Rantaro just your smile was enough.

While he set his feelings aside you were preparing yourself to confess.

You decided to strike at a perfect time. The beautiful sight before you (other than Rantaro obviously) the warm atmosphere...

You said it. Without regrets, you couldn't stop yourself. He was a bit surprised but he didn't let you wait long for his answer.

"Hah... I don't really know what to say at a time like this... Can I kiss you instead and let it be my answer?"

Kokichi Ouma

He saw you reject people so often he swears he knows the outcome just by the look on your face. Even when you politely decline and show no signs that you'll say no he still can tell.

If someone really messes it up he's gonna joke about this later with you. He just wanted to make you laugh so you won't have to worry about it much.

You might not like the idea so much but it happened when someone crossed the line and made you feel uncomfortable so you didn't feel that bad...

And it DEFINITELY doesn't make him anxious about confessing... Impossible- he would never.

Of course he's not like those idiots who don't even know you. And in the end he can turn it into a joke if he messes it up.

But the memory would probably haunt him and not let him sleep at night, so he rathers not risking it.

So you had to make the move. It was a bit hard but you knew how to get to him. You had to wait for your "making fun of people who confessed to you" session to do that.

That's when you mentioned that you were interested in someone and now it was the best time to make things obvious.

He was ready to tease the living shit out of you and hoped you'd share the news. But you made him guess.

It was interesting to hear the names he'd assume before himself. So you spoiled the fun.

"Aww Y/N I almost got it! That's not fair" he crossed his arms "But since you're really dying to be with me I suppose I can entertain you from now on in a bit different way"

Korekiyo Shinguji

He's observant and he's pretty sure somehow he saw all of the confessions so far. Some were creative while some incredibly creepy.

He did make a joke once about you being so popular just to see your reaction. It was interesting that you rejected everyone even those he assumed you were close with.

A little tease like this can show him how you view those interactions. He wanted to know if you find it amusing or heartbreaking.

Whatever your answer was he acknowledged it and knew that from now on it'd be better to keep his feelings to himself.

He was entertained enough just being with you as you were so he didn't really care that he has to ignore his heart's call.

You were beautiful, the special kind of beauty within you was something he could witness every day. What more he could ask for?

Only if he knew what you were up to... It'd ruin the surprise!

You studied the language of flowers just so when you give him the special bouquet you'd tell him meaning of each flower.

He was of course already aware of those but since you were telling them about it he knew that it was supposed to mirror your feelings.

"To believe that I was blind to your feelings all this time... Let me make this up to you"

~Mod Angie

[sergeanthopeless]

female Byleth S-supports ranked best to worst

(keeping my personal feelings about the pairings themselves to a minimum)

(Gilbert and Alois omitted, since those are platonic S-supports)

(warning: long post)

1. Seteth 

This S-support is about as romantic as it can get. This thing just makes my heart flutter every. dang. time. and it’s easily the best S-support in the whole game for female Byleth. There’s a REASON why a lot of people hop aboard the Setleth train after witnessing this masterpiece.

Sure, Seteth lectures his way in and out of the proposal, but let’s be real, if it was any different it would be out of character, and acting the responsible advisor is just part of his charm. Plus, he pledges utter devotion to Byleth for the rest of his existence, and we essentially get wedding vows out of this one. It doesn’t get better than that!

He’s so self-assured during this S-support, and that’s sexy. But he is patient and affectionate with her, and takes the time to make sure there’s no room for confusion. He clarifies that his feelings are not those of duty (which is a problem with some other S-supports), or an interest in perpetuating a Nabatean or Crest-rich bloodline. It’s very clear that he just wants her, and that’s it. But where others put Byleth on a pedestal, this S-support feels like an exchange between equals.

Byleth’s reaction to this one is particularly noteworthy — there’s an unusual amount of emotional expression from Byleth during this S-support, INCLUDING A FRIGGIN BLUSH! Byleth does NOT blush often during these supports. Plus, Byleth asks Seteth to promise that he’ll follow wherever she goes. Unlike some of the other S-supports, it’s very clear that she’s invested in him and wants him.

Favorite quotes:

“I cannot conceive of a world without you in it.”

“I love you, deeply. Will you marry me?”

“From this day forward, I will always be at your side. Through good or ill fortune. Through the greatest of joys and the worst of woes. No matter how daunting the task, I will be there.”

“Courage, my love. Let us go forth and face the world - together.”

2. Hubert 

I was genuinely caught off-guard with Hubert, especially since I haven’t played Crimson Flower yet and have gotten all of my impressions of Hubert from the fandom. A pleasant surprise, though, and pleasant enough to snag the #2 best S-support!

He starts with advisor nagging, which is no surprise since that’s his character. However, he doesn’t take too long to get to the point of the conversation, and everything is straightforward yet sweet. It’s very cute how he flustered he gets in the beginning, and his self-consciousness about his suitability as a husband is really sweet. But what really clinched this for me was the privilege of seeing a BLUSHY HUBERT! This surprisingly lovable psychopath gets so dang worked up and excited over Byleth giving him a ring and proposing to him right back.

Favorite quotes:

“[I’d] rather you be with me rather than some dubious individual.” (Yes, I altered the quote, but let’s be real, he wasn’t talking about Edelgard there.)

“I once thought killing you would be a great challenge, but the real difficulty was declaring my love.”

3. Ignatz 

This S-support starts with an angry Ignatz, which had me worried. Ignatz is one of those characters where I expected his apparent youthfulness to cause a problem in his S-support (it definitely causes problems in other S-supports), even though he’s actually 17 at the start of game like Felix, Dimitri, Claude, Raphael, Ferdinand, and Edelgard. So I was pleasantly surprised by the sheer maturity of his proposal!

While he’s definitely self-conscious and doesn’t even expect Byleth to accept his proposal, it says a lot that Ignatz still had the guts to do the proposing. While he expresses surpassing admiration toward Byleth as someone who supported him through troubled times, he’s not dependent or subservient. Yes, there is a prominent fixation on Byleth’s beauty, but he’s an artist, so I think that adds more meaning to what would otherwise be an extremely shallow point to make during an S-support.

Favorite quotes:

“You are my goddess.”

 “You soothed my troubled soul.”

“My beloved goddess.”

“I want to love you for all eternity.”

“I love you with all my soul.”

Hoo boy, this boy’s got a serious SILVER TONGUE on him! *fans self*

4. Lorenz 

Regardless of how you feel about Lorenz, you’ve gotta admit this is a pretty flawless proposal. He reminisces about and apologizes for the trouble he used to cause as a youth, has a smooth transition into the presentation of the ring, and then his composure falls apart when Byleth reveals she’s been wise to him all along. He’s such a perfectionist, and his determination to propose perfectly is very consistent with his character. But I also appreciate that he made sure of Byleth’s feelings before actually asking her to marry him (ring presentation aside).

This S-support makes it very clear just how much Lorenz admires Byleth, which I feel is extremely important in context of his character. He can be incredibly self-centered to the point of being downright irritating, so the fact that he’s now talking about her and is focused entirely on her shows the sincerity of his feelings and how much Lorenz has grown as a person.

The bit at the end where he gets overexcited and uses his full name is hilarious, but I’m glad the S-support doesn’t end there, which would have taken away from it. Instead, it ends with Lorenz swearing to make Byleth happy and work with her in making the world a better place. Equal partners!

The last thing that really made this S-support for me was the voice acting. The broken voice, trembling, and stammering really added emotional depth to Lorenz’s character in this critical moment, and really brought everything to the next level in terms of overall impact.

Favorite quote: “Pedigree and status are no longer priorities for me. I now know that what matters most is the worth of an individual’s soul.”

5. Felix

The moment I noticed that this S-support was taking place at the training grounds, I knew it was going to be good. And it goes exactly as you would expect with our favorite tsundere, flustered and deflecting and all, but the sheer effort that he ends up putting into it is so endearing. And I adore how Byleth messes with him the whole time.

It starts rough, let’s be real. He just hands the ring to Byleth and tells her to “take this.” Oh, Felix. This poor boy is so. friggin. hopeless. You can practically hear his thought process leading up to this point. “How do I make sure Byleth never leaves?... Ah, marriage — yes, that’ll lock her in!” *facepalm*

But Felix’s body language is what really makes this S-support, starting with the finger point and then ending with the kabedon. Plus, we get a glimpse of something very rare: blushy Felix!

Favorite quotes:

“Fight me for the rest of my life.”

“I want you to be my wife. Please say yes. Let’s get married and stay together until we die. I love you.”

6. Balthus

I really didn’t know what to expect with this one, although to be honest, what expectations I did have were fairly low. Yet despite his faults, Balthus managed to scrape together a rather charming S-support! His nervousness and stuttering is adorable for such a big, tough-talking guy, and I love that we actually get an impatient “Just say it already,” from Byleth.

It was nice to see Byleth’s good influence on Balthus, although I’m not a fan of the woman-redeems-man trope. And considering that Balthus asks for up to 5 years to get his act together…that wasn’t exactly a point in his favor.

What made this S-support for me was all of the classic lines. Balthus isn’t necessarily a smooth talker, but it would be wrong to say that he doesn’t know how to talk to a woman. The proposal itself had me ROLLING: “Marry me, pal!” The voice acting was flawless, particularly when he said, “my love.” Balthus, I’ll say this on Byleth’s behalf: please stop trying so hard. And never say that again.

Favorite quotes:

“It’s time to take the biggest gamble of my life.”

“Comfort be damned! I need you by my side. Always.”

“Let’s get hitched right away! I know a guy.”

“To look after you...and be brave enough to let you look after me. that’s what marriage is all about, right?”

S-support portraits shouldn’t really matter here, but I’m going out on a limb here and saying that Balthus’ portrait is the best one of all Byleth’s S-supports.

7. Dorothea

I have a lot of Dorothea feels, okay? She’s my baby girl. And by this point in the game, she’s so jaded and used to disappointment that it just breaks my heart. So when Byleth proposes to her, you can hear the genuine emotion in her voice. She’s so in love with Byleth, but clearly talked herself out of it long before this moment. “You won the war. You could pick anyone in the world. Why would you…?”

And then she’s so happy. It’s not fancy, but her pure happiness really makes this for me. The hopeless romantic finally getting her happy ending is just really lovely.

Favorite quote: “I starred in so many operas where I captured the heart of my beloved. But I never dreamed that it would feel this wonderful when it actually happened.”

8. Ferdinand

Oh boy, Ferdie. There wasn’t much of a preamble, and the presentation of the ring wasn’t anything special. He’s still full of himself: “You hear noble Ferdinand von Aegir declare his love for you, and all you say is, ‘I understand’?” and this S-support is more focused on him than it is on Byleth, which is exactly the opposite of what happened with Lorenz’s S-support, even though they’re similar characters.

That being said, this S-support has its moments. We get a good reaction out of him (even though it’s over the top), and we get a sign of his personal growth when he reins himself in. The trembling and feeling faint is very cute (10/10), and considering his ambitious nature, him saying that he considers winning Byleth’s heart to be one of his greatest accomplishments is sweet, as is the way he dreams about their future.

In other words, this one starts rough, but ends sweet.

Favorite quote: “I need you as much as I need my next breath — more, even.”

9. Dedue

Can we just appreciate that Dedue chose to leave Dimitri for Byleth? That is so meaningful. Dedue spends the entire game unhealthily attached to Dimitri, and finally he finds something that he chooses for himself. Of course, there is the concern that he will become unhealthily attached to Byleth, but I don’t get that impression from his S-support.

There are so many wonderful little details in this S-support. The tiny, modest ring. The straightforward proposal. Both of them gazing at each other in loving, comfortable silence afterward. Byleth’s blush. And DEDUE’S LAUGH. Just. the laugh. It’s important.

Finally, Dedue invites Byleth to come with him to visit Duscur. TAKE NOTES, CLAUDE!! Anyway…

10. Edelgard

*takes a deep breath and sets aside my feelings about Edelgard’s stance on the Children of the Goddess*

Alright, so this S-support is significant because it’s one of the few where you can tell that there is genuine affection on Byleth’s end. She really takes charge of the proposal, going so far as to use Edelgard’s nickname, “El,” to convey affection and intimacy.

At first I was concerned when I heard Edelgard say, “This ring…thank you, my dearest friend,” and I was like HOLD UP – did Byleth just get friendzoned?? But Edelgard clarifies by expressing that she has romantic feelings too, which saves the scene. But while sweet, the rest of the S-support focuses on Edelgard’s ambitions and generally lacks romance. Fitting for her character? Yes. A satisfying S-support? Not really.

11. Dimitri 

It’s clear from the beginning of this S-support that Dimitri and Byleth have become close friends. I appreciate the way they talk about their wounds, and although talking about Dimitri’s nightmares is far darker than I expected from an S-support, it shows just how much Dimitri has improved.

What disappointed me about this S-support is the lack of emotion on both sides. Sure, the “my beloved” pet name is wonderful. And sure, Byleth isn’t very emotional as a rule. But Byleth shows more emotional in other S-supports. And there is not nearly enough of a reaction on Dimitri’s side. Come on, dude. You’ve been aggressively simping over Byleth since Day 1, and you’re just taking this proposal in stride?? You should be unconscious right now.

12. Mercedes

I’m so proud of how far Mercedes has come at this point. She’s determined to live in a way that makes her happy, outside of her Crest or anyone else’s expectations. That being said, a lot of this S-support feels more like it could have been an A+ support.

Major points to Mercedes to being the one to do the proposing. A lot of people mistake her kind nature for being demure, which is not the case. She is bold, speaks her mind, and knows what she wants. And in this case, that’s Byleth. Her proposal is gentle and respectful, if a bit bland, and her reaction to Byleth’s acceptance is absolutely adorable. She’s so happy yet insecure, and I wish there was more communication from Byleth to reassure her.

13. Hanneman

Hanneman is an academic through and through, and his nature as a scholar comes through strongly in his S-support. He tries to approach things pragmatically, almost ruins things by talking about Byleth’s role in his research, but fortunately realizes that’s the wrong way to do it and takes a new approach with more feeling. It’s very similar to Linhardt’s S-support, but less self-centered and overall better. Hanneman treats Byleth as an equal, and shows enthusiasm in his own way.

Overall, this is an extremely pragmatic S-support, but it’s not without its charms. That being said, it definitely requires an interpretation of Byleth’s character where she has developed a taste for academia.

Favorite quotes:

“I suppose there’s no reason to hold ourselves back any longer.”

“I don’t want the power of your Crest - I want you.”

“I can’t wait to see the results of this undertaking.”

14. Yuri

This S-support is very consistent with Yuri’s character. The scene opens with Yuri trying to repay his “debt” to Byleth, which definitely lacks in romantic vibes, but works in context. It’s nice to see Yuri nervous and out of composure, but I admit I had been expecting…more…from him with how charming he’s supposed to be. Then again, like Sylvain, maybe the fact that he’s dropped the façade is supposed to make it meaningful. At least he blushes! Blushy Yuri is something I didn’t know I needed. The bit at the end where he whispers his true name in her ear is very nice, too.

But yikes…Yuri talks about his death. And considering that in most of the routes, Byleth ends up being most likely essentially immortal, this hits HARD. She is definitely facing the death of her lover in a few decades at most, and that is not something she wants to think about during a proposal.

Favorite quote: “In return for this ring, I ask for you.”

15. Raphael 

Raphael is a pretty clueless, non-romantic kind of guy. But the sudden proposal is very cute. Considering how awful he is at expressing himself, it works really well with his character to simply have him jump right in and get it over with.

That being said, I couldn’t help but feel that his reasoning for getting married was just a little loose. He always wants to be with Byleth and expresses that he wants to serve as her knight. Uh, you realize you can do that without marrying her right, bud? Byleth didn’t seem to be very into this proposal either, although she does have a wonderful little smile in the S-support portrait, which makes up for that. I love how the portrait emphasizes Raph’s size and strength by having him lift her up bridal style. It’s an actually flattering portrayal of him, too.

Favorite quote: “And…I’ll love you. Forever and ever. And ever!”

16. Sylvain 

Ah yes, Sylvain. Our favorite train wreck. The good news is that he’s finally taking charge of his life, and I like that he’s straightforward in this S-support rather than flirtatious, which means that you know he’s being sincere. It’s cute to see him genuinely happy, and his statement that “I’m going to spend the rest of our lives together trying to make you happy,” is very good.

However, the “If you told me you never wanted me to look at another woman, I’d go blind for you” is going too far. I know it addresses his skirt-chasing character, but I just don’t know if they could have a healthy relationship. I know this is rating the support scene, not the ship itself, but I don’t think that’s a positive indicator for the future.

17. Claude 

This S-support gives me so many bad vibes. Yes, he expresses his love for Byleth as well as his utmost confidence in her, but dude, actions matter more than words, and your actions speak VOLUMES. He’s the only one to just run off at the end of the S-support, and while I understand his reasoning — I really do — it’s clear that his own agenda and ambitions will always come before Byleth.

This is what I heard: “Right now, Fodlan is like a newborn... so that’s why I’m leaving, so you have to do all the hard stuff yourself. See ya, sucker!!” Ah yes. Prime husband and father material there. Obviously.

“I’m sorry that I won’t be by your side at such an important event...” Uh huh, yeah right. You’re obviously itching to get out of there.

I’m sorry, Claude stans, but giving Byleth an engagement ring and then running away for who knows how long is LAME.

18. Jeritza

The first thing that struck me about this S-support is the fact that it takes place in the Agarthan HQ, Shambhala. This is super meaningful because it means that Byleth and Jeritza go there together to use their killing prowess to take out Those Who Slither in the Dark post-Crimson Flower. It’s a nice way to tie up the route. The portrait is super dynamic and unique, too. That being said…

He’s still fixated on killing Byleth. If that’s your thing, then hey, I can’t judge. At least we all know that if he hasn’t killed her by now, it’s never going to happen. It’s such an empty threat it’s probably an inside joke by now. But Jeritza’s clearly still figuring out his feelings, which means I’m not sure it really counts as an S-support (it would have made a better A+ support imho). There are also things about this pairing and S-support that have some serious implications for who Byleth has become by this point and what the future is likely to look like. Good storytelling, yes, but as an S-support…not my favorite.

Favorite quotes:

“It is you alone who can slay the demon inside me.”

“To the very depths of hell, I will tumble down with you.”

19. Linhardt

This S-support falls flat for me. It’s like Hanneman’s, but worse because it’s super self-centered. I feel like it’s a really bad summary of Linhardt’s character because so much more could have been done with it. Linhardt has lots of good traits, and this S-support ignores all of them. Instead, we have a one-dimensional S-support that focuses on Linhardt’s laziness and penchant for napping. He’s so self-centered and consumed by his own interests, so saying that he wants to study Byleth for the rest of his life makes her more like an accessory to his life plans rather than a central component. At least when Hanneman says he wants to study Byleth, he makes it very clear that he loves her and wants her as a person.

And the line where he says "I didn’t honestly think you’d reject me” is just…wow. Much disappoint. If I were Byleth I would turn him down on the spot just for saying that.

20. Ashe 

Ashe’s S-support comes off to me like he’s pledging himself to her as a vassal more than actually proposing. Yes, he does take initiative and does the proposing, which is consistent with the fact that Ashe is a gutsy little guy. But he’s so stuck on being helpful that the S-support ends up feeling immature. Plus, Byleth doesn’t seem very enthusiastic about the proposal compared to other S-supports, and overall Ashe’s worship of Byleth comes off as more dependent than romantic.

21. Caspar

We’ve reached the bottom four S-supports, starting with this disaster. Caspar is juvenile, reckless, and oblivious. (Don’t get me wrong — I adore his character and see him like a little brother.) Byleth has to take charge of the proposal, which is not a problem in itself, but then Caspar confesses that he hasn’t even thought about marrying Byleth — or anyone at all! asaslkjasdflk FAIL

At least the victory shout is kind of cute…if painfully cheesy.

And they get worse from here…

22. Rhea

I don’t have a lot to say here. I know I said that I would keep my personal feelings about the pairings themselves out of this, but I feel like there are certain things about this particular pairing that need to be addressed along with this S support.

Age gap aside (because frankly with immortals, age doesn’t really matter anymore), Rhea CREATED Byleth’s mother, essentially making herself Byleth’s grandmother. Incest vibes, yo. Plus, she fully intended to sacrifice Byleth’s life in order to bring back Sothis — which, granted, is a sentiment that wears off, and Jeritza is just as bad in terms of original intent to kill Byleth. This makes any kind of romantic revelation on Rhea’s side just…weird.

There are some good quotes in this S-support, and we get a ton of reveals about Rhea’s character development in a short amount of time. She’s self-conscious of her other form as a dragon, she acknowledges the wrongs she did in the past, and she expresses a desire to repent. She acknowledges the pivotal role that Byleth has played through her choices and accomplishments, rather than attributing them to fate and the “flow of time.” But honestly this would be more appropriate as a final scene at the end of the game, not a romantic S-support.

23. Cyril

Oh boy. Where do I start with this one? It’s so bad...

This boy is BABY. 19 years old after the war? Sure. Attractive design? Yes. But still, he. is. BABY. And the S-support portrait makes it so much worse by making him look freaking TEN.

And he’s so, so oblivious. Even worse than Caspar. He barely has a personality as a character outside of being committed to the servant mentality, and he has had no opportunity to discover himself as a freaking person outside of his obsession with Rhea. It should be illegal to even consider this kid for S-support. One thing would be if it was platonic, like Alois or Gilbert, but Byleth gives him the ring, and that means it’s supposed to be romantic.

Plus, Cyril says that he loves Byleth, but it’s super casual and comes off more like familial or friendship love rather than romantic love. Unless I missed something, I don’t think Byleth ever says that she loves Cyril in their S-support. And the end is just the worst: “Love ya, see ya in the morning.” That’s IT???? There is absolutely no indication of a mature relationship, and that’s just scary and gross.

I just…really hate this S-support. There’s only one S-support that’s worse…

24. Sothis

Forget everything that I said about keeping my feelings about particular pairings out of this ranking. This is a TRULY CURSED S-SUPPORT.

I don’t care that Sothis is technically a goddess whose age is beyond counting or mortal comprehension. All that matters is she looks like a child. She is lolibait. And to top it all off, she doesn’t even have physical form (thank goodness) — she’s just an apparition in Byleth’s head!

And this quote? “I love you deeply! Overwhelmingly! passionately! Ours is a love without an end!” I only have two words: PEAK CRINGE.

It would be one thing if Sothis came back in her adult form. Or better yet, if she had always been in her adult form as portrayed in the fresco in the reception hall. You can do something with that. But that’s not the case, Sothis is portrayed as a pre-pubescent child in both appearance and personality, and that’s just pedophilia vibes, y’all. I can’t believe this is a sincere S-support option.

[tobias-fell]

For the book rec ask game I'm just going to make up my own

An enjoyable book with a satisfying ending, captivating characters, a focus on platonic relationships that brings so many emotions and a ton of excitement, altogether leaving you feeling very impacted and/or really good.

Does it exist

here on this blog we spread V.E. Schwab propaganda 24/7, so yes, it does! This Savage Song might be what you want.

This Savage Song is about August, a monster who wants to be more like a human, and Kate, a human who wants to be more like a monster. After Kate is attacked in school by people who clearly wanted to frame August, they work together to try and figure out what's going on. Admittedly the ending isn't 100% satisfying in the sense you have no more questions, because it DOES have a sequel (Our Dark Duet, I haven't read it yet) but it's very... right. It feels right, and it leaves you sure there's going to be a hell of an adventure in the future. It's definitely exciting and impactful. The characters are captivating, too, with how they foil each other and how they fit into this fucked up world.

ALSO. the book is about the dangers of violence, how violence has a huge and real impact on things, necessary violence is still violent, etc, which I think is a theme you would really like. (Monsters are born because of violent acts, actually. It's part of August's struggle--how can he be good when he was created from something horrid?)

Oh also! Loveless by Alice Oseman may be exactly what you're looking for, actually. If you couldn't guess by the title... it is not a super romantic book lol. It's about Georgia, a girl who's always loved love and desperately wants to find a romance of her own... so when she realizes she's aroace, she's never actually wanted or liked romance that's not in a book, she doesn't quite know what to do. And when her friend group--perhaps her most important thing--starts to fall apart, she's scared she'll be left with nothing.

There is a HUGE focus on platonic relationships. How they're treated as lesser, how they can still be so important, how friendship is a beautiful and complex thing you've got to put work into, that kind of thing. It's not just limited to the aros, either; a fully alloromantic character declares Georgia to be her "special person", letting the idea that romance is most important be damned.

It gave me So Many emotions, some specifically from being aspec but others just because it's rlly good, and i felt very happy and warm inside when i finished it. The characters are wonderful too, especially Rooney and Georgia.

[danddymaro]

Take My Hand |Loki x (Asgardian) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Quick and easy because as much as I would love to make a whole series, I don't have the capability to do so regularly and not disappoint.

With that being said this might just be left open as a single shot so I don't have to pick lol.

Word count: 5097

A/N: Have I mentioned I love drama?

-  because I love drama. 

Loki is a serious drift between romantic and platonic, and I just... I just love it, because you're like, hmmm. 

Is there something there?

Am I overthinking it?

Who do I pick?

Long-term friendship W/ Loki

Reader is Asgardian (as mentioned)

Bucky is in a half and half state. He’s somewhat good, but dealing with his stuff.

A lot more Loki W/reader. 

 Take My hand

She was a perfect woman, and he wholeheartedly believed it. 

In his eyes she was the embodiment of everything he could ever ask for, but, even then, that didn't mean he couldn't be a stupid man.

‘It’s really for the best,’ He told himself, all in order to convince himself that what he was about to do was for the best. 

‘ - Because right now...it’s not the best time for any of this,’ He thought to himself, biting his lower lip as he felt her reaching for him for warmth.

‘-It’d been in the heat of the moment,’ He inwardly spoke, wanting to take away any special meaning that the moment could hold.

‘yeah,’ he went on, wishing he could go back in time before they let themselves get carried away.

‘It’s just that...’ he went on, in a desperate attempt to convince himself that it was just like with any other time, and any other woman.

Though, in truth, as much as he tried to fight it, it was anything but insignificant. Far, deep within his being he did not want to forget the lovely moment now that it had occurred.

It was then that (f/n) pressed her cheek to his chest, her ear landing just a few inches off from his heart.

Her arm was then draped over his stomach, allowing her hand to land at his side, the woman seeming fully contempt with life as they cuddled.

‘It didn’t mean anything,’ He added with a long exhale, trying to convince himself as much as he could, hoping that if he repeated it enough, it would somehow become easier.

‘(f/n),’ He started, ‘Is this how you are with everyone else?’ He then wondered, asking himself if the cuddly nature was meant just for him, or for just anyone that lay next to her.

 ‘(f/n),’ He then added, his heart weighing down, ‘If I tell you a lie....would you just believe it? Will you just believe it...not having expected anything else from me but a single moment?’ He added, the same muscle tightening as the woman seemed to be at compete ease. 

The sentiment was infectious and as he felt her melt, it was hard for him not to do the same. Even if his mind was far too plagued by a tornado of torment, his body got the message.

Naturally, the tension in his body melted, and it only made things more difficult, because it just meant that his heart was responding to her embrace, knowing that this time, it was different.

‘I know I’ve got a nasty reputation right now,’ He started, ‘ but it’s because, really, I don’t care about seeing them the day after.’ He silently admitted to the (h/c) haired woman.

He’d somewhat gone back to his old ways, though, not quite entirely because it was hard to fall back into being the same charmer he used to be when he’d gone through such a long-termed torment.

 But, at the very least, he was graced with good looks, and it did plenty for him when he lacked the proper social skills to woo a woman.

He’d shamelessly had little hook ups here and there, and that was just what they were, and nothing more.

‘They know what to expect, and for me,  it’s a routine.’ he thought idly, finding the arrangements he had  better than spending the time alone in silence with his own thoughts.

‘I care about you a lot.’ He thought with certainty, pointing out what separated her form everyone else. ‘I think...that maybe... I might have actually fallen in love,’ He then corrected himself, finally admitting it. 

‘If I think about you so much,’ He started, knowing it wasn’t right how frequently she came to mind, well aware that what he felt wasn’t something that he could feel for just anyone.

‘if you’re the first thing that comes to mind when I think about the good things in life...’ he then trailed off, filling it the rest with a silence that reached his mind.

‘ (F/n), I choose you.’ He declared. “ I’d always choose you,’ He thought with determination. ‘I just hope you know...that right now, (f/n), I’m choosing you. 

Above me. 

Above everyone else. 

I’m choosing what’s best for you, and not what I want instead,’ he thought with lament.

‘ Right now, I’m no where near where I want to be.’ He went on with the same sorrow. 

‘ There’s a reason I never stay overnight. 

There’s a reason I don’t get too close to any one else...because it’s better for people to think I’m some asshole than some crazy psychopath.’ He told himself, not wanting to share his misery with the lovely woman.

‘You deserve more,’ He thought with certainty. ‘You’re meant for better things,’ He told himself, never forgetting her origin, knowing that she’d always be much more than he deserved.

She was a literal goddess, and he was just some broken down old fool.

“(f/n),” He started before closing his eyes while he let a deep breath leave his nostrils,

“(F/n),” He then said again, letting his mouth do the work, disconnecting himself from it all to make it more believable, because if she saw the misery that threatened to overtake him, she’d have doubt.

She stared at him with widened (e/c) colored eyes, the happy glow to them fading as he continued to speak, giving her an excuse to why he couldn’t stay, and much more, why he wasn’t one meant to settle down.

"- You understand....right?" He questioned her, and throughout his speech, it took all the power he could muster to not look back at her heartbroken expression, even though  it felt like his duty to ease it.

‘When you’re upset, I feel like I have to put you at ease,’ He thought with tenderness, knowing the pain was there, and that it existed on her beautiful face.

  He knew he'd caused it and instead, chose to cower, biting his tongue as he heard her take in a long, strong breath through her nostrils.

She’d long let go of him, and had chosen to distance herself the more he spoke,

"Of course," She responded, the hand that clutched the covers shaking before she released the fierce grip, finally collecting herself enough to hold back her melancholy.

She believed his deception because until then, she hadn't had a reason to distrust him.

Until then, he’d always been honest with her.

"I understand." She said with a soft, blue breath, her (e/c) colored eyes watching him as he slid from beneath the covers, soon throwing on his clothes in a way that was far too collected for a man that had regrets.

There was no stumble, nor fumble and she looked on with melting shoulders.

Quietly, (f/n) handed him his shirt, offering him a soft, yet broken smile, thinking she had mastered the false expression, though, failing the final test.

"You ok?" He asked her, his voice coming out soft and kind, because he never meant to hurt her.

'No...' She inwardly wept.

"Yeah...I get it," She said instead, her eyes fluttering close as he neared her,  laying a soft kiss on her hairline.

"- I'm heading out now," he informed her, his right hand gently patting down (h/c) colored hair, the affectionate act causing her to shrink as she nodded in acceptance.

'Please...don't,' she silently begged.

 'Not yet. If you're going to go anyways, just stay a little longer,' she added as she watched him go, wondering if she’d been the only one to hold back on calling him, or if he was used to being pleaded.

It didn’t take long for her to finally let loose of the harsh grip she had on herself, choking out soft sob after he left, properly reacting to his rejection once he was out of sight, and problobly off to his same routine. 

And that was the part that hurt most, that in the end, she was just like all of the others.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Please...” (f/n) breathed, her voice down and tired as she tried to keep the conversation with the man civil.

But, it was fruitless, because as much as she wanted to avoid the conversation, he was detrained to dig deep, going as far as to follow her through the entirety of the empty facility. He  remained hot on her trail with quick, long strides that only ceased when she decided to finally stop and turn towards him with the same defeated gaze she’d wear whenever she was shamed and beaten.

“You are a god!” Loki barked back at her, his emerald eyes shadowed over and dimmed as he roared out the words. 

He spat them at the woman to remind her what was her true title, because he detested how fiercely she tried to play home with a realm that she didn’t belong to.

“You shouldn't be played a fool by an insignificant, Midgardian, lowlife,-”  

“- Loki please,” She cut him off with a weak voice, desperately trying to both calm and silence him.

'Not now,' She secretly pleaded, not wanting to hear the harsh speak, especially with the news she’d just received.

She hardly found the strength to plead with him, and at that very moment, she was certain that it was the last bit of resistance she had left, the hollow feeling that she'd been consumed by only weakening her furthermore as the days progressed. 

Left as nothing more than a walking husk, she cowered, and it was something he could see.

 Her attempt was futile as well as her will to reason, and it only seemed to fuel his means to speak in such a heated tone, because the (f/n) he knew wasn’t so frail. 

 “You still defend him?!” He questioned her in complete astonishment, the tone borderline mocking.

In response she said nothing, and the woman only stared at her feet in disgrace, swallowing down a small wad of spit that would be her defense.

She couldn't find anything to say, or justify herself, and her silence was her only answer at the moment, the only one she could provide. 

 Because what was she to say? 

Yes, she was a fool.

Yes, she simply strung along.

 Yes to all the accusations, however, "Please…" she said softly, slowly lifting her gaze to meet his, finally finding it in herself to look directly at him.

 She couldn't bear to listen to more, because despite everything that happened, it hurt her to hear the demi-god speak of Bucky in such a way that demoted him into nothing but worthless rubble.

 No matter what had happened between them, nor how much bitterness was left in between to savor, she still loved him too much to sit through any ill talk of him. Aside from that, the way Loki threw her own foolishness In her face burned, scathing the warrior that lay dormant.

“No pleading me woman!  I have sat back and watched you gravel and lower your status to an expendable waste of time and space here on Midgard!” He said loudly.

Her self-esteem was already at an all-time low, and his words only stung more, causing her to visibly shrink, her shoulders sinking as she accepted his venom.

All sympathy was left aside as his rant ran, and she wasn't surprised because she knew how heated and stubborn he could be, and by then she was well aware that she might as well speak her feeble plea to a brick wall.

'I know,' She quietly mused.

 He watched her take in the insults with the same grimace and the sight didn’t soften his harsh glare in the least bit, nor deter his speech, and it was then that he made his final decision, 

“I am not pleading you, nor am I requesting this,” he stated lowly, and  the way he looked at her almost frightened her because she knew he had something severe to come. 

Bracing herself, she looked up at him, (e/c) colored eyes wide and teary, waiting for what was to come.

 “I demand you return to Asgard with me today.” he finished, each word spat out firmly. 

His chin was held high as his eyes dared her to defy him, and at that, her heart came to a sudden stop.

“Today?!” she breathed, “ Loki- No, No, No, I can't simply leave like that.” She said frantically, nearly on the verge of tears, the panic she felt rising, momentarily shielding her from feeling the full strength of her sorrow. 

“You can't?”  He said, raising a brow,“…or you won't?” he asked her, silence ensuing after his low murmur.

"What stops you?" He questioned her, wanting to hear her say it, itching for her to face the reality of her decisions.

She tried her best to put on a brave front, but failed miserably and soon enough, tears began to fall down her face. Quickly, she hung her head to hide her worthless state, however, hiding her tears did nothing to stifle her sniffles, letting him know she was breaking down. 

“ Loki..." She breathed.

‘I can’t go now,’ She thought to herself with weakness.

"- I'm pregnant…” she sniffed, her voice as soft as silk, completely delicate and woven with the finest fibers of desolation and helplessness. Through her (h/c) colored bangs, her ( e/c) eyes Scanned his face, only to find It unmoved, the expression giving her unease. 

“And your point is?” He said with a low growl, annoyed. 

The news didn't faze him, nor did it lessen his piercing glare, and it unnerved her, “Did you not hear me?” She questioned him, struck by disbelief. 

  Didn't he just hear her? 

Did he even understand what the implications of her being in such a state meant?

She couldn't just leave, it wasn't right to do so.

“I heard you,” he said placing both hands behind his back, breathing in a soft, mellow sigh that loosened his tense body, “In Fact,” he began,  “I knew before you mentioned it to me.” He said coolly. 

"Y-you knew," she said shocked, though not entirely convinced, "That's impossible..." she murmured with uncertainty written all over her person. 

she stared straight at him for a form of proof that indicated he could be lying, but she got nothing in return, only the same arrogant look he'd mastered. 

“-Three weeks." He said simply, " You are three weeks pregnant,” he said before giving her a satisfied look that was in response to her expression of shock.

"Don't be so surprised,  the question on your face is insulting.” He huffed, “ Need I remind you, that to fool a trickster is of unlikeliness my dear? " he said smugly. 

"Then if you knew, then why give me such an ultimatum!" She furiously bellowed.

Why put her through the pain? 

Why tear her child from a father? 

Why try and force her into leaving?

The questions burdened her as she faced him, but the growing fury she felt forced her to retain them, not knowing where to start. 

He huffed out a dry chuckle before closing the space in between them, slowly stepping closer.

 "As I said before. I am not asking you to come with me, I am telling you, and trust me when I say you will comply," he asserted.

By then his taller figure loomed over hers, making her feel even smaller than before, the sudden burst of passion she had dying out as he towered over her.

"Are you really going to force me? " She murmured dejectedly, knowing that any hope of defying him wouldn't happen if he was fully intent.  

" Only if I must, " He said calmly, seemingly cooled down.. 

She became crestfallen, the woman withdrawn and small by then, “Please don't make me...” she sniffed, looking up at him with hurt (e/c) colored eyes.

 "Think about this, the child will be born on a bed of silk and surrounded by the finest. In Asgard, they will have a lasting life, one of prosperity, of higher thinking and understanding. 

They won't be held back by petty wars and battles, the very ones you attempt to stop. 

What more could one want for their own?" He reasoned with an almost too kind smile, lulling her onto his side, hoping to easily strum her along. 

He then opened his mouth to speak again before she could deny him, using his silver tongue,

“Do you truly believe a child here would not suffer ?" He questioned her. 

" You, more than anyone know how much corruption and danger there is here, especially for a person such as yourself….one who has so many foes." He reminded her.

 " - With that said, would you would allow your child to live here, risking thier life? ” he asked her.

She was wedged between a spear and the wall, because as he stated out the facts, she was well aware of how much more favorable the other realm was, however, there existed a factor that bound her to the place she now called home, 

"My child needs a father. " She said softly, so much so he couldn't have heard her at any farther distance. 

Instantly, the emerald-eyed man turned from her, making an attempt to not capture her heartbroken gaze, and  yet again silence filled the room, the space disrupted by the long, hiss he let escape.

" Oh," he breathed, " And here they have one, yes? " He dared to ask.

The question nearly killed her, because the dagger that had already been wedged in her heart was moving, digging deeper, and rotating in a way it ensured there wouldn't be any healing.

‘ he wouldn't... I know he wouldn't reject a child of his own flesh and blood.’ she thought with a glimmer of hope, trusting the man she'd given herself to.

His heart was good, and she was convinced of it.

She desperately wanted to believe it, however, Loki was a man that knew how to crush one's dreams, the soft-tongued man always aware of what words to use, because he’d mastered the art of manipulation.

" - The man who rejected you, who used you, who humiliated you in the vilest way he could… He is worthy of being a father? " he questioned her, finding a weak point.

'He doesn't want to be with me,' She then thought to herself. ' he doesn't want that life....so of course, why would he be willing to stop? 

For me...For a child that comes from me...

One he never planned...

Why should I force him...right?’

“ Do you believe that if he cared for you, he would toss you away so easily, without even a glance at your way. 

- Watching you suffer, seeing you slowly crumble… and do nothing?

I could never sit by and watch you suffer.” He then told her. 

“How is it that he can?” He then asked her, watching her swallow hard.

“ Much more , Do you truly believe a man such as himself would be safe around a child? Again I ask -

Would you put your own child at risk? “

Her eyes went wide and she sucked in a strangled breath, taking in the words with a fastly thudding heart, 

“You’re wrong !” she said stubbornly, “He wouldn't harm his own child, to any child. To any one!” she rambled. “He wouldn't ! he isn't like that, not anymore Loki!” She said with panic.

'No...you can play with every insecurity I have,' She silently spoke, ' but that is not one,' she thought with confidence.

 “ of course HE isn't, but what about the Winter soldier? what about the ruthless assassin that lies dormant?

What of that feral beast he becomes ?

Is he not unstable still?”

She shook her head with a certain look to her eyes, pride swelling through at the gaze, “ You can't play on a fear I long let go of. I know he is strong enough. 

He is different." she said with borderline arrogance. 

He then sighed, the breath sounding exasperated.  

"Return to Asgard. whatever fool that crosses your path could take the role." He finished, beginning to walk away, not willing to negotiate any longer, growing weary of the conversation.

 "If a father is what you need then find a suitable one once we arrive," He advised her. “You’re still in your early stages,” he reminded her, letting her know how easy it’d be to just push the responsibility onto some other fool.

Her eyes became wide at his solution and her nostrils flared in anger, a sudden burst of fury striking her,

“I will do no such thing !” she growled, quickly pulling him back.

With her quick hand shot directly at him, she managed to grab his shoulder and spin him around roughly. And it was at that moment that he found himself facing a different woman, one he recognized. 

Fire blazed in her (e/c) colored orbs, and by then the tears no longer flowed, slightly pleasing him.

The display of a knowing smirk made its way onto his face as he watched her, preferring her in her current state.

" That is deceiving,  and a much more, a disgusting act. I could never do such a thing !" She said in between gritted teeth, "And for you to expect it from me, I'm appalled." She further seethed.

"You, are simply unbearable," He snickered.

"So are you, darling," she bit back.

‘Just when I think we’ve become strangers...we come to this point again.’ he thought to himself. ‘A change in scenery. A different year and stage in our lives, and yet, it’s all warmly familiar,’ He added, by then certain that he and the woman were destined to be at each other sides.

‘Alright,’ He decided, knowing what had to be done.

"Unbearable woman..." He breathed, " I have another proposition." he informed her.

She nearly tore out her hair at his words, frustrated, because, Could he not just understand?

she couldn't just leave,

"NOTHING YOU SAY COULD POSS-"

"Then I will be that fool…per se."

" …what? " She breathed stepping back from him, anger having disappeared. Instead, she stared at him in awe, as if he had grown a new head entirely.

“Idiot...” She murmured, “Just what are you saying!” She questioned him, still in shock, not knowing how to really react.

" You heard me, I will take responsibility of you both." He said with a low voice, his eyes cast down as he spoke, looking almost hesitant to word his proposal for a reason other than doubt of his own. 

Truly, if there was any reason he looked away, it was because there was a vulnerability to him that he didn’t want to show so openly. 

'Why are you doing this Loki ?’ She gloomily wondered.

“- Why?” She questioned him, “ Just why are you so pent on me leaving with you?” She asked him while taking a step closer to him. 

Her hand reached out to him, her palm gently taking hold of his cheek, easing him to properly gaze at her. 

 “Why?” she breathed, questioning him yet again.

“Could the god of lies and deceit finally tell me the truth?" She challenged him, the words making his lips twitch with the most delicate touch of amusement.

 "- Why not? " He said simply, still not looking towards her, his eyes stubbornly drawn away.

"B-Because !" She argued, not finding where to begin, 

‘ Because I don’t want to hurt you.

Because you deserve so much more. 

Because I love you too much to damn you in any way.’ 

Finally finding it in himself, he pulled up a soft smile, “I see no fault in my plan.” He assured her, the confident comment not easing her.

“It's marriage Loki! A family!” She cried in frustration. “It’s an eternity!” She went on, no longer convinced he knew the true implications of such ties.

“- I understand what it means fully well,” He started, “ And it seems that you do too, so could it be that you simply wish to not bind yourself to me in specific?” he said looking insulted, a hint of playfulness hidden in his words, the childish speak further wounding her, because the lightheartedness he showed only highlighted his true devotion.

His sweet banter only showed how sure he was. 

“No... it's just... what about you?” She whispered with a crooked smile, an imperfect expression that tried too hard to properly showcase all of her inner musings from sadness and loss, to confusion and joy, and even hints of frustration.

“-What of me?” he asked her back, his tone just as sweet as hers. 

“Don't play the role of a fool, because it doesn't fit you well,” she rebutted, the words making him crack a true smile. 

“Do you not see it as sacred as I do?” She said with glittering eyes.

‘To me...this means devoted love. 

This means there is no end. 

This is something my heart has always yearned for,’

“Yes.” He answered her without a shred of hesitance, no second thought hidden between the spaces of the words.

“Then why me…?” She questioned him, “ Why make the sacrifice for me?” choking on her own words when she asked the one question she had begged to be answered.

“ why take me from my home here?” She continued to ask him. “Why put me before your own desires?” (f/n) said while beginning to shake.

“This is my desire,” He said as his hand rose to cover hers, all while his head leaned to her palm even moreso, 

“ I wish you could truly grasp at how special you are. 

How rare it is to find a woman such as yourself, in just about any part of the universe, even while scouring entire realms," he proceeded, grasping her little limb before lacing his fingers with hers, and suspending them in the air between them.

“That child of yours, they will take on my name, and whatever glories are bestowed upon them will be preceded by both of our titles, hopefully with pride,” He said with a small chuckle.

She could detect no lies, and at that, her hand squeezed his, 

“ A child is an extension of you, and so, I could never deny them. They will be mine, just as they are yours.” he spoke before releasing a low, airy chuckle, 

“Perhaps then I can show Odin how a true parent is to treat their son,”

He finished with a snide remark. 

“Son..?” She questioned him, lightly tilting her head as she gazed at him, “A son?” she repeated while envisioning such a child. 

‘Would our son hold resemblance to their father...or would they somehow hold all of me instead?’ She idly thought to herself, envisioning the same beautiful blue eyes that now caused her sorrow being possessed by her child.

“ Yes dear,” Loki said with certainty, “ A son. A boy. wouldn't that be marvelous?” He questioned her, seeming enthralled by the very idea, so much that he slid his free hand down to her upper back, the other that linked with her own held dearly as he took a step to the side, performing a lax spin that was of a poorly preformed waltz, and it reminded her so much of the little dances they preformed as children.

“ Then what if it's a girl?” she interjected, “Would you still be as willing to accept them? ” She said while smugly awaiting his answer, wanting to see him weigh in every possibility.  

“What do you mean if it's a girl ?” He said while stopping their spinning, “ Then there will be a princess born, and she will be a proper lady,” He responded without question, mindlessly falling in sync with her little steps. 

“Oh, and mother will just adore her. We will teach her all sorts of magic and quick Wit.

  She will have both our bronze and brain,

  Your righteous convictions, your every strength...they will be celebrated.

And every weakness she develops will be assured by me,” He swore to her, seeing only a bright path in the wake.

“She will be a gem formed in the same mine as her perfect mother,” He said proudly, but not soon after did his frown overtake him, abruptly stopping their little waltz,

“Which in turn...will mean she will be sought after by just about every man in Asgard,” He mumbled lowly, breaking off from her with a bothered downturn,

“And of course, none will ever be worthy of her, “ he said with a present scowl.

Momentarily, she stared at him, her sight, and mind alike completely taken by the prince who she could only then, describe as precious.

“ Traces of doubt nested within me, until just now, “ She admitted, “You're serious aren't you..?” she asked him with a small chuckle, her (e/c) colored eyes gazing at him with an even brighter light.

“ And I keep asking myself...why?” she said softly, shaking her head all the while, and it was then that his entire face melted into a sweetened softness that was further accented by the gentle smile he presented.

“ You have been with me through and through, just like a shadow, but unlike one, you don’t stand behind me.

You don’t cower yourself, and, instead, show me devotion while everyone else looks away.

 You’ve defended me, despite the many times I've paid you back with everything but the truth. “ he said with shame.

“(f/n), with you, I’ve felt true love,” He admitted to her.

“What we have, to me, has always been treasured.

It has always been cherished. 

I was never doubtful of what it was,” He further confessed. “I do not want you to look at that man more than you have to.

I do not want you to live in the same place he calls home.

- I cannot stand your suffrage.

Do you understand me?

You've always been one to find reason behind my actions and against all logic and reasoning.

You’ve always tried to save me, so now, shouldn't I do the same with you?” He questioned her. 

“(F/n),” He airily murmured, “Would you take my hand, and disappear?” He then asked her, pulling back to just the touch of fingertips.

With an upturned palm, he offered her a sweet smile as he repeated the question a second time,

“(f/n)...Would you take my hand?

[avengers-age-of-fanfics]

just for you, honeybee (6/?)

pairing: steve rogers x reader (platonic), natasha romanoff x reader (platonic), bruce banner x reader (y/n is a big fan of his), tony stark x reader, bucky barnes x reader

warnings: mention of bucky, fighting, training, mention of guns, takes place during The Avengers

words: 3,359

a/n: part 6! i honestly don't know how long this series will be, but i think i may end it at either endgame or TFATWS. so basically going through all the movies lmao, but skipping over a few. i just want honeybee and bucky to be happy but gotta add some angst.

Transitioning into a new world, the year of 2011, was no easy feat, and you appreciated Director Fury being somewhat patient and honest about how much has changed. Him, and apparently one of your biggest ‘fans,’ Phil Coulson, have been the most helpful with your adjustment, teaching you all about the new technology and supplying you with a new phone, courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D.

However, along the way, were a few speedbumps. You and Steve trained consistently in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s gym, almost leaving no room for sleep or taking proper care of yourselves. You both knew it was terrible, you should be looking out for one another, but the loss and confusion overran your needs to live a normal life. However, over time, he seemed to adjust better than you, as expected. Even though Steve had only been awake a few months before you, he jumped right back into the new world.

For you and Steve, the both of you had seen Bucky a few weeks ago; you had seen Steve a few minutes ago, from the time you had woken up. To everyone else in the world, including Steve, however, that was history, a moment written in textbooks ages ago; and for Captain Rogers, that moment was months ago.

In your mind, you deserved to release your anger out on some punching bags.

It had taken Director Fury and Agent Coulson a while until they shared the news to you and Steve, that Peggy was alive. They had claimed that since they found Steve, high hopes were in store for finding you, hence saving off on telling him beforehand. Steve had immediately wanted to see her but you hesitated; what would Peggy say to the both of you? How would she react to you both being alive? No matter, Steve had begged you to come along to visit Peg and you caved, giving him some time with her before he called you in.

Peggy’s eyes lit up, “y/n, you’re alive! Sweetheart…”

You smiled, pulling up a chair next to her, “hey, Peggy. How’s the strongest woman alive doin’?”

She sighed, grasping your hand, “better…much better. Howard never stopped looking for you, the both of you. He’d be so happy to see you.”

You sucked in a breath as her eyes turned glossy, “we know, Pegs. We know.”

She held back her tears as she continued, “he had a son, Anthony; just as stubborn but smart as Howard. You’d love him.”

Steve chuckled, “sounds like a handful.”

Peggy laughed before falling into a coughing fit, turning away for a few seconds. After regaining her breath, she turned towards you and Steve, “Steve! Y/N! You – you’re both alive; you came back!”

Steve gave a sad smile as your face fell, “yeah, Peggy, we did…”

Steve’s eyes teared up, “I couldn’t leave my best girl; not when she owes me a dance.”

Over time, the visits to Peggy became too much and you needed to rest. So, with little convincing to Director Fury, you found yourself in a small cabin in Bozeman, Montana, with frequent visits by both Coulson and your new female friend, Natasha Romanoff. At first, you hated the idea of someone visiting you during your time to reflect, but once you realized that she wanted to help you train and become used to your super serum abilities, you appreciated the company.

You barely had any time to adjust to your newfound strength, among other things, and you slowly became grateful that Natasha had joined you over the course of a few months. Sure, sometimes she was so nosy and bossy, waking you up in the ungodly hours of the morning to train, but she had slowly become one of your closest friends.

Honestly, some days it felt as if you just met Natasha the day before:

You stood in Fury’s office, arms crossed, as he stood adjacent to you, Coulson awkwardly standing beside him. “Why are you sending a babysitter to a place where I am supposed to be, oh, I don’t know, relaxing? Reflecting?”

Director Fury grumbled for the umpteenth time, “because, Agent L/N, you never know when the day will come where we will need you and Rogers, along with your special abilities. You are unskilled in hand-in-hand combat, among other areas in defense, and it’d be nice to enhance our agents.”

You uncrossed your arms, still very pissed off, “I don’t want them to visit me every day. That’s my one condition. I need time, Nick; I feel like I haven’t properly…taken everything in. I just want time to myself.”

Phil spoke up beside Fury, “and we respect that, Y/N, we truly do. But we hope you also see where we are coming from. Natasha Romanoff is very skilled in her profession and understands your situation – you’re in good hands.”

“Phil, you’re making me blush,” a female monotonous voice spoke.

Whipping your head around, you were met with a beautiful redhead who definitely seemed like an Agent, someone who meant all business. You’d learn later on that was just a façade.

“I- Y/N L/N, you must be Agent Romanoff,” you said, holding out your hand.

Natasha grinned, shaking your hand in hers, “just call me Nat, Agent sounds too formal. I look forward to seeing what that super soldier serum truly did to you.”

Apparently, not too much as she continuously kicked your ass in combat.

Training with Natasha was, well, with your lack of combat, embarrassing. You had your ass handed to you so many times, it was a bit pathetic – but she always told you that you were improving. You used your heightened senses to your advantage, listening to her footsteps and figuring out what move she intended to use next. You hesitated to use your strength at first, but with continued training, you knew Nat could handle it.

With Nat, you also became very skilled in shooting handguns, rifles, the whole nine. Your aim was impeccable and target training was becoming a breeze. The thought of shooting someone terrified you at first, but when Nat reminded you that hesitation could get you killed, you understood – there was no room for mistakes.

During your stay in Montana, you kept in touch with Steve, but only through short texts. He was not thrilled with you leaving him, but he understood where you were coming from; you needed to mourn but also keep busy, careful to not fall into a dark abyss. Fury kept you updated, telling you that he had pushed himself into training continuously and visiting Peggy all he could. You knew seeing Peg was doing Steve no good whatsoever, and your heart ached...but at least he got to see his long love.

Nat had been there when Bucky’s birthday passed, holding you as you cried, unable to leave your bed the day of and a few after. She held you as you yelled at the sky for taking away the most important person in your life, leaving you so alone. She knew you had Steve, but it wasn’t the same – you needed Bucky. But she also knew by letting you cry, your emotions out of your body, you’d feel so much more at peace.

And she was right.

Natasha also told you about Howard's son, Anthony, and from what you saw on the news, that was definitely Howard's kid. Tony was arrogant, self-absorbed, but did what he thought was right. After his declaration of being Iron Man, you followed Tony all over the internet, but hearing first hand from Natasha of the man that Tony was...Howard would be proud. You wished to meet him, you did, but something pulled at your heart, telling you that Tony probably hated you for taking his dad from him, forcing Howard to become obsessed with finding you and Steve and thus, costing him his life.

Natasha told you he might see you in that light, yes, but if you ever got to know Tony, he'd warm up.

You weren’t healed and you still weren’t okay, but you were…better. You hated whatever being there was in the sky for taking your James, but you came to terms with it. But the one thing you were so resentful about was the fact that there was no body, no funeral for him.

Becca hated that, too.

You had visited her in her old age, just like Peggy, and the two of you held hands as you talked about James and Steve – your boys. She had missed you so much, just like she missed Jamie, and she understood your pain the best. She had tried to encourage a search party for him, to have some closure, but the government refused. He was gone, and they couldn’t send more men to find a disfigured body.

You hated thinking about that, what James would look like. It haunted you in your nightmares, waking you up in the wee hours of the morning, his frostbitten body staring right back at you. Phil had found you a morning after such nightmare, sitting on your porch in nothing but an oversized shirt and a blanket around your shoulders, cheeks wet with fresh tears.

You sniffled once more, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, watching as a black car parked into your dirt driveway. The car opened and Phil Coulson emerged, as expected - on time for your monthly visits. Hugging onto the blanket tighter, you shivered against the cold air, hoping Phil would just leave upon noticing your state.

He did the exact opposite.

Phil took off his jacket, resting it upon your shoulders even though you had the blanket. You sniffled, inhaling his scent, and hugged the jacket closer, feeling Phil take a seat next to you on your wooden bench.

"I always found snow to be soft, almost like a cloud, falling down upon it when James and I would make snow angels," you began. A shiver ran down your spine as you continued, "but now, I can't help but think of his body just...plopping onto the ground so roughly that he was hurting, still alive, yelling out for anyone and..."

Phil ran his hand over your head, brushing your hair back, "freezing."

You glanced to Phil, "freezing to...to death. He must've been so scared, I-"

Phil shushed you as the tears formed, "no what if's, y/n. He's safe now - that's what matters most. You're okay, and so is he."

Your bottom lip trembled as you held onto the dog tags, nodding to Phil's words, "you're right, as always."

Phil gave a tight smile, "let's go inside and heat up some milk, 'm getting tired myself." Coulson held your hand for the rest of the night.

Trying to convince yourself to get some closure, you told yourself that the next time you were in Washington D.C., you’d visit the museum and read all about Bucky, all that he had done, and see the amazed looks of citizens who saw him as a hero. Your James Barnes was a hero to so many people, including yourself, and you should be able to celebrate his goodness from when he was alive.

You were going to go the next day until Director Fury knocked on your door at 2:30 in the morning, holding a file labeled “CLASSIFIED.”

You raised an eyebrow, “couldn’t have given me this at a decent time?”

He narrowed his good eye, “it’s urgent, didn’t have time for formalities, your highness.”

With a snort, you grabbed the folder from his hands, “glad you know how to properly address me. What time do we leave?”

Fury tilted his head toward the quinjet, directing your eyes toward Steve who stood alongside Natasha, “once you get dressed, Agent. You’ll have time to look over the file in the jet.”

You weren’t sure why you got dressed so fast; seeing Steve for the first time in about 6 months, finally going on a mission, or just getting some new sense of scenery. Either way, you engulfed Steve in a hug and he laid a hand on the back of your head, “hey, honeybee.”

Your heart ached whenever he called you that, but you figured it was one of the last things he could hold onto Bucky as his dog tags laid against your chest, “hey, Stevie. So, what’s the deal?”

Reading over the file while Nat gave more information about Clint – someone else who you had grown quite close to – you grew confused. You looked to Steve, “the Tesseract. That’s the blue cube that…disintegrated Schmidt, right?”

Steve nodded, “looks like Howard recovered it and it’s been in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hands since, but this guy, Loki, wants something to do with it – Hydra’s secret weapon.”

Fury spoke up from the front of the jet, “that scepter he has, it controls the minds of anyone it touches, including one of my sharpest agents. The Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy – that’s something the world sorely needs. Falls into the wrong hands, well…”

You shook your head, “you shoulda left it in the ocean.”

Silence overtook the quinjet until Phil came over to your seat, sitting beside you, “I’d like you to come along to recruit another member, if you don’t mind.”

You gave a small smile to Phil, “um, yeah, that’s fine. Where we goin’ and who are we recruiting, Coulson?”

Phil seemed a bit nervous as he spared a glance to Nat, who nodded her head, “Tony Stark, Iron Man.”

You sucked in a breath, “Howard’s son? You want me to come along?”

Phil laid his own hand upon yours that rested in your lap, file forgotten about, “I do, and I hope you wouldn’t mind tagging along.”

Holding back your tears, you nodded, “yeah, yeah, I’ll come. When do we leave?”

“Once we land in D.C., we’ll take a quick trip to New York. Easy car ride.”

You squinted your eyes, “isn’t that like, a 6-hour drive?”

Phil gave an uneasy smile, “not with me driving, we’ll be there in 2.”

You chuckled, “as long as I get there alive, I don’t really care how we get there.”

In all honesty, the drive to Stark Tower was relatively calm, save for swerving through traffic and going way too fast for your liking. Once you arrived, you and Phil talked to the impressive AI named JARVIS who told you both that he was informing Mr. Stark of your arrival.

“Impressive Artificial Intelligence,” you whispered to Phil, “definitely Howard's kid.”

Phil was about to respond until JARVIS spoke up, “Mr. Stark is not in, Agent Coulson.”

Your friend pursed his lips together, “please tell Tony that this is urgent and we need to speak. Now.”

Very quickly, Tony ignored your calls until Phil hacked into the system, overriding JARVIS and his protocols. Phil spoke into the phone, pulling you inside the elevator, “Mr. Stark, we need to talk.”

Tony sighed on the other line, “you have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message.”

Phil rolled his eyes, causing you to let out a snort, along with Pepper Potts on the other line, “this is urgent, Tony.”

You and Phil stood in the elevator, about to reach his floor as Tony responded, “then leave it urgently.” Right on cue, the elevator doors opened and Tony held up his glass of champagne, “security breach, it’s on you.”

Tony’s eyes glanced over your figure as you stood beside Phil, Pepper getting up from the floor to greet him, “Phil! Come in. I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met yet, Miss?”

You smiled at Pepper, meeting her halfway and shaking her hand, “Agent Y/N L/N, Miss Potts.”

Tony stood beside Pepper, “the infamous Miss America, Cap’s sidekick. How’s S.H.I.E.L.D. treating you? Always annoying you with something, barging in without your knowledge, telling you that you've been asleep for 70 years?”

Phil spoke for you, “I’m afraid we can’t stay. We need you to look this over as soon as possible.”

Tony shook his head, “I don’t like being handed things.”

You let out a chuckle as Pepper took the folder, “that’s fine, because I love to be handed things. So, let’s trade.” With a quick switch of hands, Pepper gave Tony the folder as she handed Phil the glass of champagne, “thank you. Anything for you, Y/N?”

You shook your head, “no thank you, Miss Potts.”

You took a moment to look Tony over. Peggy was not kidding – he looked exactly like Howard, and certainly acted like him, too. They had the same eyes, the same face, and the same attitude; it was almost like looking at a clone of Howard. Your eyes filled with unshed tears but you pushed them back, taking a small breath as Phil continued, “this is not a consultation.”

Pepper’s eyes grew wide, “is this about the Avengers? Which I know nothing about.” She looked guilty once the words slipped.

Tony sighed as he walked away, opening up the folder and looking through it quickly, “the Avengers initiative was scrapped, I thought – and I didn’t even qualify.”

Pepper shrugged, “I didn’t know that, either.”

Tony continued, “apparently I’m volatile, self-obsessed, don’t play well with others.”

You mumbled, “kind of like Howard.” Tony pointed his finger towards you as he nodded, “and she speaks of him!”

Pepper nodded her head, “that I did know,” ignoring his comment towards you.

Phil shifted his weight, “this isn’t about personality profiles anymore.”

Tony grunted, “whatever. Ms. Potts, got a second?”

As the two were talking, screens were lit up of you, Steve, and others fighting, and you stumbled back with a slight gasp, still new to the whole holographic stuff of technology. Phil turned towards you, asking you if you were okay with a look, and you nodded. Pepper looked towards you both and back to Tony, whispering, “maybe while working on this, you can get to know her. Get to know your dad. I’ll take the jet to D.C. tonight. You have homework – a lot of homework.”

The two kissed before Pepper headed your way, “so, any chance you two are driving by LaGuardia?”

Phil nodded, “I can drop you.” Pepper smiled, “fantastic!”

The two began to walk towards the elevator as you looked on at Tony who held a holographic Tesseract in his hand. In that moment, your brain convinced yourself that was Howard, your Howie.

Tony turned towards you, “you joining them or you just gonna stare?”

You took a step back, a frown on your face as you mumbled an apology, meeting Pepper and Phil in the elevator. Pepper turned your way as the doors closed, “I’m sorry about him. When it comes to his dad and you, he gets a bit…”

You finished her sentence, “jealous. He missed out on a lot and I can imagine Howard spent too much time talking about me or Steve instead of him. I understand.”

Pepper gave a tight smile.

In a few short hours, you, Phil, Steve, and a few other S.H.I.E.L.D agents were on your way to the helicarrier, something that only a few of you knew about. You sat next to Steve, looking over Dr. Bruce Banner’s files, examining videos of him as Hulk, and how he was trying to recreate the super soldier serum. You had known about Dr. Banner and honestly, had become one of his fans – when he was in his human form, of course. His works on nuclear physics and gamma radiation greatly interested you and upon reading many of his published articles, you had completely forgotten about his condition. Having the opportunity to meet him in person was certainly one of your dreams and you just knew Bucky was making fun of you for being such a dork.

Phil stood up from his seat, walking towards you and Steve, leaning above you both. Steve looked to Phil, “this Dr. Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?”

Phil nodded, “after Howard Stark’s death in 1991, Dr. Banner made it his mission to replicate it. A lot of people were. You – you both – were the world’s first superheroes. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine’s original formula.”

Steve looked uneasy, “didn’t really go his way, did it?”

Phil shifted his weight as he looked towards you, then to Steve, “not so much. When he’s not that thing, though,” you interrupted him with a glare, “sorry, the Hulk, the guy’s like a Stephen Hawking.”

Steve looked to you, confusion written on his face. You shrugged, “a really smart person.”

Silence enveloped the three of you until you nodded to Phil, urging him to continue. Phil seemed all giddy, “I gotta say, it’s an honor to meet you officially. I’ve sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping.”

You snorted as Steve nervously smiled at Phil, covering your face as he continued, “I mean, I was present while you were unconscious from the ice.” Steve stood up as you continued laughing, making his way to the front of the jet, “you know, it’s just a huge honor to have you on board this.”

You followed Phil, clapping him on the back as Steve overlooked the ocean, “thank you for that, Phil, truly.”

Steve elbowed you as he mumbled, “I hope we’re the people for the job.”

Phil’s eyes lit up, “oh, you are – you both are, absolutely! We, uh, made some modifications to your suits, by the way.”

You glanced towards Phil – now this was what you missed.

-

honeybee taglist:

@clownerlyluv

@ginger-swag-rapunzel

@starkleila

@intothesoul

[bthump]

I wanted to touch on the whole gutsca thing with someone (I know zero people in this fandom so you're my lucky pick!). Am I alone in feeling like their first time together came out of no where? My meta with Guts is that he was not at all comfortable with sex at that time of his life (this instance being his first time [outside of the rape he experienced as a child]). His choice of words too, "here I go", translated to me like someone only doing what they felt was expected of them rather than something he was yearning for. He clearly wasn't even ready given how rough he was and how he regressed and attacked her. This moment seemed very forced and almost rang to me like Kentaro's declaration of "no homo though". I would be curious to know how Kentaro felt about homosexuality (bisexuality, etc) and if he ever addressed the ever blatant gay tension and romantic-non-platonic-love blossoming between Guts and Griffith pre-eclipse. I do get the sense that this may be a case of severe queer baiting or perhaps a PSA against gay love altogether ("falling for a man will literally destroy you and send you and everyone you love to hell" type of message); but I'm a very jaded person so I hope to be proven wrong. Sigh, my point being Gutsca seems pretty dang forced and empty of true development. I buy them more as besties than anything romantic. Especially since both he and Casca are actually in love with Griffith (what a fucking triangle!). Does anyone in fandom have any opinions on the sad possibility of this whole beautiful and ultimately tragic love between Griffith and Guts actually being a fucked up anti-gay PSA? Are there any interviews with Kentaro shooting this theory down so I can stop being sad and bitter about it? What are your thoughts?

Thanks for sending this, I'm definitely down to talk about it! I hope you connect with more people in the fandom but don’t worry about sending random asks even if you do lol.

Anyway you’re definitely not alone. I have a lot of thoughts on Guts and Casca's hook up, and they're all pretty much "it feels really forced and not particularly romantic but I think you can argue that that's deliberate" lol. For instance I discuss in a lot of detail here how various aspects of the scene indicate that Guts and Casca having sex is shown to be a case of both of them rebounding from Griffith and sort of giving to each other what they were unable or failed to give to him.

And I talk a lot about how Judeau essentially orchestrates it all and what that suggests about Guts and Casca's relationship here.

And lol sorry for all the links but also this post is about how their relationship feels one-sided to an extent and is used to illuminate a lot of Guts' flaws, using Judeau as a comparison point.

Oh shit and also one more lol, here's a comparison between the sex scene and Griffith's with Charlotte that suggests that both start as ways for the dudes to repress their feelings.

(Don't feel obligated to read all those posts if you don't want, you should get the gist of what I'm saying w/ those descriptions.)

But yeah basically I do think that Guts and Casca getting together felt forced and awkward. At best it might be intended to be seen that way, as two friends hooking up awkwardly in an emotionally intense moment but probably doomed to failure because neither of them are ready for a relationship with the other, or particularly interested in one deep down, once they finished "licking wounds." At worst it’s just bad writing lol. But again like I think there are good arguments for the former.

I also totally agree that their relationship has a strong vibe of doing what's expected. Like for real, at least to me both Guts and Casca read so easily as gay and repressed lol. Casca talks about her feelings for Griffith in terms of “he was a boy she was a girl can I make it any more obvious”

and I can’t help but see it as Casca like, wow I have strong feelings towards Griffith, he’s a man and I’m a woman, so clearly these feelings must be romantic, there’s no other option. Then when she has sex with Guts she keeps contextualizing it essentially as repayment for Guts saving her, like she owes him. “I too want a wound I can say you gave me.” “Not just being given to... maybe I can give something as well.” Which just doesn’t make her desire for him look all that genuine lol.

And then you have Guts. The way he tells Casca that from the start only her touch was okay with him after he has sex with her, referencing the scene when he wakes up with her on top of him and starts to panic before realizing she’s a woman, is soooo suggestive of repression to me. Like, first off because it’s incorrect, he was also okay with Griffith going in for a face-grab after winning a duel Guts had been projecting his rape trauma all over, which seems like a pretty conspicuous omission. And secondly because the reason he was okay with Casca’s touch specifically is solely because she’s a woman, not because she’s special or because they have a magic romantic connection - it’s because she’s not a man. To me that just screams that Guts was open to sex with Casca because she’s the only woman he knows, and he’s afraid of the idea of physical intimacy with men, regardless of what he might actually want deep down.

So yeah that’s basically how I feel about Guts and Casca’s relationship, strong agree with you.

When it comes to Miura’s intent, I can tell you that Miura was asked about the subtext in an interview once, back in 2000, and he responded with something along the lines of ‘two men can have passionate feelings for each other without it being romantic.’ The interview is here, but this is a paraphrase the translator mentioned in the comments.

Other than that I’ve never seen him address it directly, but on the flipside he has cited several textually gay stories as inspiration (off the top of my head: Kaze to Ki no Uta, Devilman, Guin Saga, mangaka Moto Hagio in general), and he has straightforwardly said that the (magical intersex) central character of his other work, Duranki, was intended to have romances with both male and female love interests. Also people tell me there are strong griffguts vibes with the main, presumably canon or intended-to-be-canon ship there. So there’s that lol.

As for the no homo aspect and the potential homophobia in the griffguts subtext... I can’t deny I’ve also considered the idea that it’s a deliberate anti-gay PSA (though I haven’t seen anyone else address the idea as far as I remember, and I’ve only briefly mentioned it offhandedly). Like, Guts and Griffith’s relationship turns bad because they’re both too invested in each other, maybe the barely-subtextual desire is meant to look like a sinister twisting of pure platonic feelings that ruins everything, if Griffith hadn’t loved him the Eclipse never would have happened, etc.

But honestly I don’t think that reading holds up compared to a much more positive reading of their feelings, in which it’s their failure to understand them and act on them, thanks largely to formative childhood trauma and self-hatred, that leads to tragedy.

I don’t know what Miura intended, and there certainly are aspects of the story that are homophobic regardless of his intent, even if my best-faith reading is entirely correct, like the only textual gay attraction being pedophiles and over the top heretic orgies lol, or yk, Guts and Griffith both assaulting the same woman while looking at/thinking about the other in a very sexually charged way.

But the reading of their relationship where it’s positive and good for both of them, even including sexual desire, and only gets fucked up because they both incorrectly think their feelings are unrequited is legitimately so weirdly strong, much stronger than a reading where the sexual nature of their feelings is what fucks everything up, so I’m pretty happy just rolling with that take.

And as much as Casca can be seen and may very well be intended as a no homo, it’s also very easy for me to read her relationships with both as less of a hopeful opportunity for positive heterosexual romance and more of a “here’s how repressing your feelings thru attempts at heterosexuality fucks you up” PSA lol. Griffith and Charlotte too, for that matter. It’s definitely a stretch to think that’s intended, but whether it’s intended or not it’s an easy sell for me and I’m fine with not really worrying too much about possible authorial intent there.

Finally, I also want to link this post that goes pretty thoroughly into why I interpret griffguts as very positive rather than as a cautionary tale or predatory gay lust etc

And also have this shorter post about Femto on the same subject too, why not

Oh and maybe this thing where I split hairs about Guts’ lust for Griffith and desire for revenge to make a point that the homoeroticism isn’t necessarily being equated with violence by the narrative lol

[emptysatellite]

fool for love

Ao3

James never thought he’d be rendered speechless. He’d always been able to talk back to his professors, jest with his friends in between classes, and confide to his parents about his greatest hopes and dreams without any problems.

But Lily Evans―that beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted, loyal witch―could do it to him every time she opened her pretty lips.

Before sixth year, she’d usually say something like, “did you shit your nappy, Potter?” or, “get your head out of your arse, Potter,” or, “Potter, bugger off,” and James would let his jaw drop for a split second before responding with something like, “nah, did you shit yours, Evans?” or, “not until you get your head out of your arse, Evans,” or, “Evans, you know you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

It was always a competition, those first five years, of who could annoy each other more (although, James always thought it was the peak of flirtation, while Lily, well, she was just retaliating from his immature behavior).

James would also attempt to ask out the girl with flaming red curls, but she always shook her head and faked gag, or went on a spiel about why he was such an idiot, or simply rolled her eyes and stalked away.

Everything changed in sixth year, when Lily became less hostile and more friendly towards James. He assumed it was because of the Snape shit that had occurred the year previously, but James didn’t care because he got to see Lily smile more often and that alone made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

He would still pause momentarily after she spoke to him, saying stuff like, “nice match today, Potter,” or, “do you want a sugar quill, Potter,” or, “Potter, truth or dare?” and be able to formulate an adequate response like, “cheers, Evans,” or, “I think you already know the answer to that question, Evans, yes,” or, “Evans, I’m not a coward so obviously dare.”

They had become friends. They sat close to each other in class, traded desserts at dinner, did a handshake before Quidditch matches, amongst other platonic pleasantries.

Due to this newfound relationship, James stopped asking Lily out on dates, not wanting to make her uncomfortable or ruin the friendship that was growing stronger every day.

Sixth year came and went much faster than James would have wished and, before he knew it, he was parting from Lily. He gave her a long hug, promising to write to her; she promised the same and Lily never broke a promise, ever.

Lily was the first person James told when he was appointed Head Boy and James was the first person Lily told that she received a letter from Dumbledore stating she was Head Girl. Lily was the first person James told that Sirius had officially broken away from his horrible family and James was the first person Lily told that her older sister was getting married to Vermin Dursley. Lily taught him about the Muggle traditions he’d never learn in Muggle Studies and James taught her all about the Ministry she’d never learn in Professor Binns’ History of Magic class.

“I miss you, Potter,” she had declared in one letter. “Your jokes could always brighten my day.”

They were writing non-stop and, by the time school finally rolled around, James had a feeling everything would be different.

Why did he get that feeling? Well… James didn’t really know why he got that feeling, he just knew that he felt it and it was true.

He explained the whole situation to Sirius at breakfast, the morning they left for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

“Uh-huh, that sounds nice, mate,” Sirius barely looked up from his Vogue magazine, popping a chilled grape into his mouth.

“Did you even listen to me?” demanded James, raising an eyebrow.

“Eh, a little,” he shrugged. “All I really heard was the beginning… about how you had a dream about the future. I stopped listening there, because, in all honesty, you were never really good at Divination.”

“It’s not Divination, because I wasn’t foreseeing the future.”

“You said that everything would be ‘different’ this year,” Sirius finally looked up. “First, it sounds so spooky and ominous, for no reason at all. And second, that’s basically seeing the future.”

“I didn’t say that everything would be different, I said that I feel like everything will be different this year.”

“That’s the same thing, is it not?”

“No, it’s not,” James shook his head, “one is confirmed, one is up in the air.”

“Okay…” Sirius’ voice trailed off as he glanced back down at his magazine.

James just stared at his best friend for a few seconds and, once he realized Sirius was too enamored with the horoscope section to pay attention to him, finished eating his syrup soaked pancakes.

At Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, James and Sirius bid adieu to Mia and Monty, who both had tears in their eyes for their grown up boys, and stepped onto the train with unmatched confidence.

“Want to sit in our normal compartment?” Sirius asked.

“Of course,” James nodded, following his friend to the fateful compartment where they’d met for the first time in seven years previous. They’d entered through the sliding glass doors to see Remus and Peter already settled in, an arrangement of sweets spread along the table.

The gaggle of boys greeted each other and had already fallen into a quick conversation regarding their annual back-to-school prank when the compartment door slid open and four girls walked in.

“Hey, boys,” Lily said at once, Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary following closely behind.

“Ah, there’s our stunning Head Girl,” Sirius motioned to the pin on her jumper, which read in red ‘Head Girl’.

She grinned and looked at James, “and there’s the Head Boy!”

James smirked, doing a dramatic ballerina twirl. “Do I look like a brand-new person? More mature? More dashing?”

“No,” Mary replied, bluntly.

“Sorry to say, but you look like the same prat you’ve always been,” Remus slapped a hand on James’ shoulder.

“My friends have wounded me,” he fanned the back of his hand over his forehead, dramatically, as though he were in a Muggle theater production. “I don’t think I’ll ever recover.”

“Oh, come off it, James,” laughed Lily.

That simple sentence caused James to drop his hands to his side, hazel eyes locked on her green ones. “Huh?” he questioned, thinking that he must have misheard the girl he had loved since he was eleven.

“I only said to come off it,” she repeated, tilting her head in confusion.

“No, that wasn’t it,” he whispered, voice soft around his loud friends who had moved to another conversation, “you called me James.”

“That’s your name.”

“You’ve never called me James before, though.”

“I just thought it was time to change that. We’ve been friends for a while now and friends call each other by their given names, right?” replied Lily.

James broke eye contact and turned his head away. “Yeah,” he said at last. “You’re right.”

Lily’s eyes scanned his face, searching for something James didn’t know. She eventually tore her gaze away, drawing her attention to Remus, who had offered her a Bertie Bott’s jelly bean.

He didn’t talk to her the rest of the train ride, remaining unusually silent. Even when he and Lily had to leave their friends’ compartment to inform the Prefects of their duties that year, James was still quiet, allowing Lily to do all the speaking.

After Lily’s brief introduction speech, she tried to talk to James, but he ignored her. His mind was flooding with thoughts.

Was she mad at him or something? Was she trying to taunt him by calling him James instead of the usual ‘Potter’? He was sure that she still knew of his feelings for her, so was she attempting to play with his emotions?

The Hogwarts Express finally arrived at the infamous school of witchcraft and wizardry and, before they knew it, the group of Gryffindors were entering the Great Hall.

James sat down next to Sirius, as per tradition. Lily sat down next to him.

“Are you alright?” she asked, voice lowered to a whisper .

“Yes, Evans, I’m fine,” he snapped a response, turning towards the front of the Great Hall, where all the professors were congregating.

“James,” Lily said simply, taking his hands into hers.

Her hands were soft and flawless, unlike his own, that were rough and calloused, and it took everything in him to not give into her hardened glare that was directed at him.

“What, Evans?” demanded James.

“Come with me.”

“Professor Dumbledore will be up soon to speak. We should stay and listen; it may be important this year.”

“We won’t be long,” she insisted. “I’m sure we’ll even be back in enough time to hear him talk. Just please come with me, I’ve been wanting to talk to you alone all day.”

That got to James and he let himself be pulled out of the Great Hall by her. She led him out of the room and down the wide corridor, avoiding underclassmen, who were practically buzzing in anticipation for the new school year and the grand feast that awaited them in mere minutes.

“Here,” Lily stopped suddenly, twisting open a bronze doorknob to reveal an empty classroom that looked as if it hadn’t been used in years, desks and chairs covered with linen. She closed the wooden door behind them, letting go of James’ hands. “What’s wrong with you?” Lily crossed her arms.

James raked a hand through his hair. “That’s awfully rude of you, Evans, to assume that something’s wrong with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m your friend, James, I know when something’s not okay with you.”

He froze. “Can you stop saying that, please?” he asked.

“What am I saying wrong?” asked Lily.

“My name,” said James.

“Are we not friends or something and I just didn’t get that memo?”

“No, we are friends.”

“Then why, James, why am I not allowed to say your name like the rest of your friends?”

“Because you’re different.”

“How so?”

“I don’t love my other friends like I love you,” he said at last. “You’re… special.”

Lily blinked, her expression unreadable. She just stared at James before taking a deep breath, stepping towards him.

Her lips grazed his and sparks flew. James immediately responded to their brief touch and he grabbed her waist, tugging her forward, pressing her chest to his own. They interlocked their lips like they’d been snogging for ages, like their passion had been rooted for ions and not mere school terms. They kissed like it’d be their last time seeing one another, like they were to go off to battle the next day.

Lily pulled away first, leaving them both gasping for air. “James,” she said, “I don’t love my other friends like I love you, either. My feelings are so beyond just loving you as a friend. I love you, James Potter. You’ve captured my heart and I don’t want you to let go.”

“Lily, you’ve had my heart since first year,” he replied. “Merlin, I love you like no one else in this world.”

She looked downwards. “I thought your feelings for me were gone. That they’d been gone since fifth year and I was loving you in vain.”

“No, that could never be true. My feelings for you will never fade,” James placed a hand under her chin, lifting it high enough for their lips to touch again.

This time the kiss was soft, less desperate. It was still emotional, yes, but not as hungry; they knew this wouldn’t be their last kiss, that they weren’t losing time.

They broke away from one another. Neither spoke, instead just smiling.

James was speechless again and realized that if he never spoke again at least he’d have Lily by side.

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Till The Sun Is in the Sky Fanfic

Title: Till The Sun is in the Sky Fanfic

Summary: Roman is a genie who has granted wishes for over a millennia. The only reason he’d be eager to serve his next master is for a chance to briefly escape the lamp’s darkness. Not for a chance at freedom--for that’s just wishful thinking and he knows what that all entails.

Or at least that’s his assumption until he meets Patton, the newest master of his lamp.

Pairing: platonic royality

Word-Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Crying, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending

This set in the same ‘verse as When the Blazing Sun Is Gone but you don’t need to read that fic to understand this one. @delimeful requested seeing Roman’s/Logan’s role in the AU as part of my follower milestone celebration and so I went with Roman. Also huge thanks to @stillebesat who beta-read two different drafts of this fic and offered valuable input, I appreciate it! <3

-

He didn't know how long it had been since his last Master had thrown the lamp into the sea. It didn't matter really. Minutes, years, centuries...it didn't. Because he knew his next master would be the same as the last six hundred. Selfish, full of empty promises of freedom that never came to pass. 

No, the only reason why he would ever be eager to come out of the lamp to serve his six hundredth and one master would be for those precious moments to get out of the darkness.

Some of his more inquisitive masters would ask him what it felt like to have one’s soul crammed into a lamp.

He always laughed it off and made a joke about how it made for a great napping place.

But the truth was far from it. He knew it was silly, but he feared the darkness. He feared its loneliness, feared no one would ever find his lamp again and he’d be stuck there forever. 

He never told them how many times he uselessly fought against the magic barriers, hoping beyond hope to find a defect in the spell that bound him there. He didn’t tell them how much he feared them being the last master he ever had���not because they freed him but because his lamp never found another master to serve. Worse yet, his lamp shattering.

His soul was bound to the lamp and if it broke--then his soul would split into a thousand pieces along with it. Suffice to say, it was not a happy fate and not something happy to dwell on.

So he sang instead. His voice filling up the lamp, bouncing all around him. He could pretend someone was with him, that way, singing alongside him. He sang the few songs he knew and then some. He made up songs, even, about anything his mind could dwell on. He was halfway through singing about a gallant knight when a pair of hands made contact with the lamp.

 A new master; both relief and trepidation hit him at once. Relief that he’d be free from the darkness once more. Trepidation in knowing that it was only a fleeting temporary respite from it.

That was quite alright. After all, his new master was probably someone in great need of his assistance—they always were. The lamp magic sought out those who were plagued by horrible life circumstances. He would be the knight in shining armor to them, like he’d been to many others before.

For that was his true purpose in life and not freedom. That was just wishful thinking—and he knew all of what that entailed.

With a shroud of red mist, he rose up in front of his new master. All of which was entirely for the sheer dramatics of it. He enjoyed putting on a good show and the adrenaline that came along with it.

“Greetings!” He boomed, waving his arms around in a grand gesture, “I am a great and powerful genie—and I am here to make all your dreams come true!”

The human gawked at him, slack-jawed. His brown eyes bulged from behind his glasses, much like a cartoon character. There was a crack in one of the glasses’ lenses and upon closer look, the glasses appeared to be practically held together by tape. 

The man’s clothing appeared to be in a similar disheveled state—unraveling hems, holes in his shoes, scuff marks. The cardigan tied around his neck looked hardly wearable. Lying at the man’s feet was a blue backpack that the genie wouldn’t doubt contained all of his worldly belongings.

The lamp sought out the unfortunate and if there was one constant in any century, it was poverty.

“You’re…really a genie?” The human asked, pressing his eyebrows together.

“In the flesh.” The Genie winked.

He was well aware of what a fine specimen he was to behold. Flowing locks of russet hair, eyes that glimmered like emeralds, a voluptuous figure. Clothed in only the finest cloth that the eleventh century had to offer. Centuries of existence in the lamp had not diminished his beauty in the slightest.

If there was one thing he could take pleasure in, it was the awe humans gave him before they decided demanding for wishes. It usually lasted for only about five seconds. But during those five seconds, he could pretend that they were actually ecstatic to see him.

“What’s your name?”

He startled at those words.

“Pardon?” He asked, tilting his head backwards.

The last thing the Genie had been expecting, was those words to come out of his mouth. No one ever bothered to ask for his name. It was as though they assumed their wish-granting cosmic vending machine had no name. Or was indeed a living being with thoughts and feelings for that matter. They always started demanding rules and stipulations for their wishes as fast as they could.

“I’m sorry!” The human cried, wringing his hands together, “that was rude of me to ask without introducing myself first.”

He held out a hand, beaming, “I’m Patton! What’s your name?”

“I…” He stared down at the man’s hand, “My name?”

“Oh,” Patton’s eyes widened, “do you not have a name?”

The Genie looked away. He did once have a name, long ago before he inhabited the lamp. He couldn’t remember it. A strained, lilted laugh broke from his lips, not assuaging Patton’s concerns in the slightest.

How could he forget his own name? Names were important—special. Names had power. Names were a person’s identity. How could he let that damn lamp take something so precious away from him? It’d already taken everything else away—what more could it take? 

“I can’t seem to recall it,” He shook his head, before desperately trying to change the subject, “But enough about my fabulous self! I’m here to grant you not one, not two, but three! Three wishes of immeasurable power! Say the magic word, and I’ll spin your dreams into reality.”

He expected Patton to forget the name nonsense entirely at the mention of wishes. Surely, the man had unfulfilled desires—everyone always possessed those. Instead, the man slowly shook his head.

“I can help you find a new name, if you’d like.” He offered, a smile softly framing his face.

The Genie blinked, “You wish to give me a new name?”

He could not make heads nor tails of this strange human. He scarcely knew Patton for a single minute, but his aura oozed nothing but positivity. Still, it was an odd waste of a wish, if you asked him. He’d hate to see someone so good and in need of his cosmic help squander a wish like that.

“No,” Patton said, laughing, “I want to help you find a new name.”

Patton sat down on the beach, the lamp by his side. The human looked up at him and patted the space next to him. Reluctantly, the Genie joined him.

“How does the name Daniel sound to you?” Patton asked.

Daniel. One of his more unpleasant masters went by that name. The genie made a face before shaking his head.

“That’s okay! What about Philip then?”

“Phiiiilip…” He drew out the consonants, testing how they felt against the roof of his mouth, “What do you think, dear Patton? Do I look like a Philip to you?”

“Well, you’re very princely-looking, and I’d say Philip is a very princely name!” The man giggled, “but as long as you love it—I’ll love it as well!”

The Genie hesitated. As much as he liked the name—it didn’t quite scream him. It didn’t encompass his whole being. Philip felt as tight and constraining as his lamp. The genie could lie and tell Patton he liked it just to move on from this whole naming business. His purpose here was supposed to be focused on the wish-bearer and not him, the wish-granter.

However, as he looked upon Patton’s earnest gaze he found himself unable to lie to him.

“I am afraid that I’m not entirely in love with the idea of Philip.” He admittedly with a great sigh.

“That’s alright! We just gotta keep trying then!” Patton declared, undeterred.

He continued listing off names, but none of them seemed to satisfy the Genie. The latter of whom grew despondent that they’d never find the perfect name. There were millions of names in the world, yet none of them appealed to him. He voiced this to Patton, who refused to give up hope that easily and urged him to keep trying.

“Hmm…oh! What about Roman?” Patton asked, “I knew a guy back in high school named Roman. He did theatre.”

Something sparked within the hollow cavity of the Genie’s chest.

“Theatre? As in acting out a story in front of an audience?” The Genie asked, his eyes lit bright with wonder.

He’d never seen a play before. His masters never bothered taking him to events like that. Instead he’d remain in their household, his lamp sitting on a shelf or hidden in a cabinet. Like a jar of quarters to use on a rainy day. He could only manifest within twenty-five yards around his lamp, leaving him unable to sneak off and enjoy something like a theatre show.

But what little he heard of them reminded him greatly of the bards of his time. They used to travel all over, singing sweetly in poetic verse of great heroes and terrifying monsters. He’d always loved watching a bard perform. He almost ran off and became a bard himself before he ended up stuck inside the lamp.

“Yup! He played Lumiere in our production of Beauty and the Beast.”

The names of the character and story were unfamiliar to him. But the Genie could tell by Patton’s phrasing that it had been an important role.

“Roo-man,” He tried, liking how it sounded on his lips, “Roman, Roman, Romaaaaaaaaaaan!”

Patton giggled as the Genie held out the name for as long as he could.

Roman. It was bold, it was brash, it was perfect. Not too snug, not too loose—it fit him just right.

“Well then,” He said, clearing his throat, “I’d be honored to go by the name of such a great bard!”

“I’m happy to hear that!” Patton beamed, “We should go celebrate!”

The human stood up, stuffing the lamp into his backpack in the process. He offered a hand towards the Genie—or rather Roman.

“Celebrate?” Roman questioned, as he accepted Patton’s hand, “Don’t you want your three wishes—"

“That can wait for later,” Patton said as he pulled Roman onto his feet with ease, “what’s important right now is celebrating your new name—with ice cream! I know just the place!”

“Forgive me for asking, but what is ice cream?”

“You don’t know what ice cream is?” Patton gasped, a determined look settling onto his features, “we’ll definitely have to fix that!”

He took hold of Roman’s hand—and marched towards the direction of the ice cream stand. Roman, bemused by the human, laughed as he allowed himself to be tugged along by Patton. He didn’t know why Patton was so concerned about his wellbeing but he found it a nice change from the norm.

Patton chattered along the way, mainly about ice cream and puns relating to the icy dessert and to other things.

“What did the popsicle say to his sonsicle in a crowd?” Patton asked, already snickering at his own joke.

“What?”

“He said, stick with me kid!” Patton burst into a fit of giggles, and Roman followed suit. Admittedly a lot of the contextual humor of Patton’s puns were lost on him but there was something contagious about Patton’s cheery disposition. You couldn’t help but want to laugh along and feel about a bit of that happiness glow in your lungs. 

For those brief seconds of laughter, Roman felt human again. He’d have to treasure this feeling--coveting it once he inevitably ended up in the darkness of the lamp once more.

The sun set in the horizon as they reached their destination; a brilliant splash of crimson red with streaks of golden orange and lilac purple. There were a few customers already in line at the ice cream stand. Cheery music blared. Where, Roman had no clue. He could not see a band nearby. Perhaps it was magic?

“Hey um,” Patton said, ducking his head a bit, “mind if we split a bowl? I’ll let you pick out the flavor. You should go with vanilla—it’s a classic! But, uh you can get whatever you’d like!”

“Patton…” Roman frowned, “I could wish into existence a whole ice cream shop of your own if you truly wanted it. You don’t have to waste money on me.”

“No, I don’t have to,” Patton said with a determined glint in his eyes, “But I want to.”

Roman gawked at him, stunned. What was this human? People normally expected genies to do things for them, not the other way around! When it came time to order, Roman merely pointed to the vanilla as Patton had suggested.

There were tables set up next to the ice cream stand where customers could consume their ice cream. But Patton shook his head, telling Roman he knew a much better place.

“It’s a place my friend Virgil and I like to visit,” Patton said, “It’s nice and quiet, unlike most of the city. The noise can be too much sometimes, y’know?”

This peaceful location happened to be a bench in the middle of a park. Trees gracefully arched over it, dressed in the beginnings of autumn colors. Orange, yellow, red. A warm glowing yellow light emanated from the lamppost beside the bench. 

“You can have the first taste of the ice cream,” Patton told him as they settled onto the bench. Roman obliged him, dipping his spoon a little in the white substance and bringing it to his mouth. He blinked. It was colder than he expected. But not unpleasantly so. It was a smooth, sweet texture.

“What do you think?” Patton asked, practically bouncing in his seat.

“It’s--it’s absolutely divine!” Roman exclaimed, his eyes flickered down to the ice cream, “May I…?”

“Of course!” Patton grinned. Roman took another spoonful, savoring the taste longer this time. They took turns finishing it off as they continued to converse.

Roman wasn’t used to talking. Sure, he talked plenty over the centuries, but his conversations with his masters revolved strictly around wish-granting. Mundane conversations about the weather were anything but mundane to the genie. 

“What’s your favorite animal?” Patton asked, swinging his legs back and forth in a careless manner.

“Dogs—they are lovable, loyal creatures and mankind is undeserving of their affections.” Roman declared.

“Dogs are my favorite too!” Patton giggled, “Oh! And so are cats, horses, lizards, lions and tigers and bears—oh my! Elephants, giraffes, hippos—”

“So all of them are your favorite, I take it?”

“I guess you could say that,” Patton sheepishly grinned, “I wanted to be a veterinarian be—before—”

The human inhaled shakily, the smile slipping off his face. Instead of continuing, he stared down into the mostly empty plastic ice cream bowl. Something obviously happened in Patton’s past that upset him. It wasn’t Roman’s place to pry—but it didn’t mean he couldn’t help in the only way he knew best; magic. In all his centuries as a genie, he’s never met anyone deserving of it than Patton.

The man had been the first in a long while to treat Roman like his thoughts and feelings actually mattered. Like the genie was actually...human. 

“You could still be a veterinarian, if you so badly wished,” Roman spoke softly, “Your every wish is my command.”

Patton flinched, looking more distressed than comforted by Roman’s words.

“Roman please, I can’t do that—”

“Why not?” Roman said, “you are my master—you can make any wish you’ve ever desired.”

“Roman, I’m not your master.” Patton choked.

“Of course you are,” Roman tilted his head, “you are the keeper of my lamp. What else would you be?”

“A friend?” Patton suggested, “Roman, please I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“This is different,” Roman said fervently, grasping hold of Patton’s hands, “this I offer to you freely for you are the most worthy keeper of my lamp. You must have unfulfilled desires, something, anything I can grant.”

Patton stared at Roman, his face void of expression. Several times he opened his mouth before abruptly closing it. As if thinking better of what he was about to say. 

“Please.” Roman pressed further.

His heart rattled against his chest, wanting badly to escape its cage as he did with his lamp. Like the latter, it was a pointless venture. As long as his lamp remained intact so would his soul. Unless of course it shattered, and with it his soul into a thousand pieces. His psyche splintered and fractured, too broken to put back together again. Like Humpty Dumpty except worse for it was a living death, one inescapable. Yet it was a fate that was inevitable and also something he shouldn’t be dwelling on at the moment.

“There is…” Patton hesitated, “one desire I have.” 

“Say it,” Roman said as he bowed his head, not daring to look at the human, “Speak it into existence and it shall be yours.”

It was going to hurt, he knew this. The genie wasn’t the true wish-granter, all the magic they possessed came from the lamp itself. The magic only used his form as a mere conduit. Because that was all a genie was—a damn puppet to his masters’ wills.

Roman brought this curse upon himself—he wanted immeasurable power and he attained it. Except, it was never his will to wield such power. Nay, only his masters possessed it. Only their wishes and not his would be granted. It’d be this way forever and ever, because everyone always cared about their happy endings and not his own.

Even Patton, once he saw the immeasurable power that surged forth from even the simplest of wishes. Roman wouldn’t blame him for it. The human has already given him more than what he’s ever deserved. 

Patton squeezed Roman’s hands. It took every ounce of Roman’s willpower not to sneak a glance up at him. He had to remain strong for whatever wish Patton threw at him. In the short time he’d spent with Patton, he didn’t get off the vibe of a frivolous wisher. He dealt with plenty of those over the years. Ones who used the wishes in willy-nilly ways, without any forethought behind them. 

No, he’d probably be practical. He’d wish for money, or perhaps a mistake in the past to be reversed. Those were always tricky ones. They didn’t always end in the way humans believed they would.

“Roman,” Patton began, “I wish to free you, the genie, from your lamp.”

The genie leapt off the bench as if electrocuted, hands clumsily detangling themselves from Patton’s own. The lamp’s magic roared in his ears, swelling inside him like a great storm. He gaped at the human, his heart bursting out of his chest and into his throat.

“P-patton, mind repeating that?” He gasped.

“I wish to free you the genie from your lamp.” Patton said once more, his voice firm and unbreaking.

This time he couldn’t hold off the wish. A bright red light enveloped him like a supernova explosion. Magic consumed him, rippling through every fiber of his being. A warmth fell across him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long while. A great shattering noise occurred. The light died down as he looked to see the lamp had spilled out of Patton’s pack, glittering underneath the lamppost, in pieces. 

Breath heaving, he fell to his knees, touching the pieces. The lamp had broken and he was still here, whole and complete and free.

“Why?” He stared down at the broken lamp, quivering, “I--I don’t understand. You had three wishes. You could’ve had so much—all the wealth and fame you could ever desire!”

“But I didn’t want that,” Patton protested, resting a hand on Roman’s shoulder, “not if it came from a wish you were involuntarily bound to serve no matter what. That isn’t fair. Everyone deserves the freedom of choice. Including you.”

Roman laughed. Except it wasn’t quite a laugh. More of a strangled, gargled croak than anything else. He pressed his hands into his face, shutting his eyes as he tried to block out the dizzying nausea sweeping through him.

After six-hundred masters and a millennia inside the lamp, Roman knew a lot about the freedom of choice. His masters employed it with how they chose to use his wishes. Flaunting it so arrogantly in his face. The wishes were self-serving for most. Sometimes they used it to better others’ situations. But never his own, despite many promising to free him. Because at the end of that third wish, they’d walk away while he’d once more get trapped inside the lamp.

Over and over again, they chose to not free him. Except Patton. He chose to free Roman on his very first wish. For as long as he’d dreamt of this moment, of being free from the lamp, he never expected it to actually happen. It was just a foolish fantasy, too abstract to become reality. Not to mention in this manner. He had imagined a master would free him after he’d proven himself worthy with a great feat of magic. How could Patton think he was deserving of this gift?

He laughed weirdly again. This time it hurt his vocal chords.

“Roman?” Patton asked.

He responded with a noise, halfway resembling a hiccup and a shriek. A gentle set of arms enveloped him, pulling him closer until his forehead rested against a warm chest. A hug? Was Patton hugging him? 

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Patton murmured, ruffling a hand through his hair, “let it all out.”

Kiddo. Roman wanted to snort. He was a millennia older than Patton, he wasn’t exactly a child. Except at those words, he bawled like one as he realized that those were sobs from before. Not laughter. Roman couldn’t remember the last time he cried. Just like he couldn’t remember a time before being a genie.

Who was he, without the lamp? For as much as he hated it, it’d been a part of him. It defined him and the purpose of his existence. Now he was free of it, free to be his own person, with his own wishes and desires. But he didn’t know the first step of what that looked like.

 It was like he was thrown into a raging ocean of confusion and turmoil. Treading aimlessly, desperately hoping for a piece of driftwood to grab a hold on. Something that could anchor him, keep him afloat. 

“P-patton--” He whispers, voice hoarse from crying, “can I--can I choose to be your friend?”

The human had suggested it earlier. Surely, he meant it still? It was quiet for a few seconds. Enough to cause Roman to doubt himself. But then the man who unbelievably granted him his freedom hugged him tighter.

“Of course, Roman,” Patton told him, “I’d be honored.”

With a sniffle, Roman’s hands fell from his face as he threw his arms around Patton to fiercely return the embrace. A few more ugly sobs wracked his throat. How was it that Patton was the one honored to be his friend when it was the opposite? 

Roman hardly knew what being free looked like. But he did know he’d do anything to protect Patton, to preserve this kind, selfless spark that rested in the human’s soul.

As he dwelt encircled by Patton’s loving arms, the last slivers of the sun’s glow faded at last, dousing them in darkness. But for once, he didn’t find himself afraid of it.

[alexandrablake]

solace

pairing: morcia  word count: 925 (kinda short, my b) warnings: juss the tiniest eensiest bit of angst because it’s me and because of the drama of this confession, but otherwise i think we’re safe! a/n: haley’s been inspiring me lately. set a little bit after the scene we all know click here to be added to my taglist!

“You’re my god-given solace.”

It was a loaded statement to say the least. It was a compliment, pretty words spilling out from a prettier mouth. It was comfort to her ears, a prompt for tears to spring to her eyes and a small smile to grow on her face.

But what did he mean?

It was hard for her to focus after he said it, her mind darting from possibility to possibility, trying to come up with any sort of meaning to the man’s words. And to take her mind away from what might have happened if he hadn’t jumped from that ambulance.

She didn’t know why she was so worked up over this. It wasn’t like they hadn’t thrown around declarations of love before- that was practically a daily occurrence. They were Derek and Penlope, for God’s sake! Flirting and words of confirmation were how they communicated. So what was so special about this one?

She couldn’t stop thinking about how desperate he sounded when he came back on the phone. There was a tone in his voice she had never heard from. There was need in his voice, desperation in his otherwise calm and sultry voice. She could almost make herself believe that in what Derek thought could have been his last moments, these were the words he wanted to go out on.

And that made her cry. She cried for Hotch, she cried for Kate Joyner, she cried for the victims. And she cried for her love. 

She’d accepted years ago that Derek Morgan would never love her back. The words they exchanged were just that to him- words.

But there was always that voice in the back of her head, nagging, nagging, nagging, telling her that maybe Morgan thought of her as more than a friend and a colleague. The voice pointed her towards soft smiles and stolen looks they shared. She was reminded of unspoken words they shared and moments they spent comforting each other.

Of course, it was mainly her being comforted. Derek was strong, oh so strong. But she liked to think that in the moments where it was just them, a blanket, and the basking glow of his old television, that maybe she comforted him just a little. Even hardballs like Derek needed happiness, and she knew that if anyone could ease that pain he tried so hard to hide, she could.

Why, she would ask that voice, would Morgan fall for her? Yes, she was hot, but so was every other woman in the world. What would make her so special?

“Penelope!” she berated under her breath, her own thoughts shocking her. “You are a smoking hot, confident woman, who doesn’t need to put herself down for any man! Not even ones that are practically perfect.”

“Absolutely correct, sweetness,” an all too familiar voice agreed. In her argument with herself, she missed the sound of footsteps approaching her and stumbled back in shock. Rough hands grabbed her shoulders, steadying her, and bright brown eyes stooped down to her eye level.

“You alright?” Those same eyes were glazed with concern, and if she peered past the beauty in them, she could make out her own open-mouthed appearance. 

Then sense rushed back to her, and she prodded a finger into a solid shoulder. “I should be asking the same thing to you! What the hell was that?”

Derek’s eyebrow raised, and he shot her a teasing smile, a smile that any other day would make her feel weak in her knees. “Babygirl, I have no idea what you’re babbling about.”

She crossed her arms and shifted her weight onto her right leg. Slowly and carefully, she surveyed his body, taking in the damage with a frown. He was worse for the wear. Soot, or maybe it was ash, was covering what clothes he was wearing that wasn’t tattered.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

She could hear the smile in his voice without looking, but there was something else there. Something that wasn’t just platonic love, something that made that little voice come screaming back, something that made her heart skip two beats.

“Why would I?” she cooed, slipping back into normal-Garcia mode with a smirk. “No need to take a picture when I can get it straight from the source.”

He laughed, a bright sound, filling her ears with memories of holidays, anniversaries, and a love that hadn’t happened. She thought about little angels, one boy and one girl being cradled in her arms, him standing over her shoulder every step of the way.

“Penelope,” he breathed, practically stealing hers straight from her chest.

She dropped her facade and gently reached a hand out, cradling his cheek. “Hi, my love.”

Leaning into her palm, he took a second to say anything. “You know…” he cleared his throat.

“I know.”

“No, it’s just… I meant what I said, you know that, right? You are an actual angel on earth, and I love you.”

Damn them, but the tears came rushing back. She let out a watery chuckle and leaned her head back to keep her mascara from running. “Yeah.”

“Do you?” he asked again, gently moving her chin so she was looking at him. Studious eyes stared into hers, and she finally believed that voice.

Her answer was turning away with a smile, cheeks burning hot, but that was nothing new. There was always something about Derek Morgan that made her feel like a giddy girl, experiencing love for the first time all over again. 

If she was his god-given solace, he was hers.

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