#we draw ever closer to the scene i am DYING to do

[fbfh]

STAR ANON HERE... I'm just curious what are your fave emo bands....

STAR ANON MY BELOVED!!!!! HOW ARE YOU DOING I MISS YOU <333 first of all, amazing question. I know the defenition of the emo genre is a little loose, but my favorite emo/pop punk bands are currently palaye royale, fall out boy (obvs), and paramore.

palaye royale own this fucking ass okay. remington leith.... ooooh my god. he has singlehandedly made me reconsider my stance on rpf. vampire!remington???? oh my god. oh my god. if I could drown in his voice I would. his cover of closer my nine inch nails actually brought about the second coming of christ. at the very end of no love in la where he goes "I SAID THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS LOVE IN LaAaAyEeee-"????? dead. actually dead. the boom is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard in my life, line it up is my FUCKING ANTHEM, and dying in a hot tub live is my favorite video on the internet. I don't use the phrase "eargasm" every, but I genuinely can't think of any other way to describe remi's voice. Emerson is an amazing drummer and incredible artist (I am SO jelly of his ability to draw architecture) and Sebastian is a brilliant guitarist and is the brain cell posessor (and probably has to routinely keep remi from jumping off stuff and breaking a limb with only partial success.) the grittiness and sincerety and emotion in remington's voice really just scratches my brain in a way that nothing else does. If I could get his voice made into something tangible I would open my skull and rub my brain against it for hours. I fucking love him.

fall out boy need no introduction. "doing lines of dust and sweat off of last nights stage just to feel like you" from 27??????? lives in my head rent free. been into some of their absolute headbangers from american beauty/american psycho and infinity on high recently like novocaine, jetpack blues (i'm sorry but "do you reMEMBER HOW WE USED TO SPLIT. A. DRINK. itNEVermattEREDWHATitwas. I think." I WANT THAT TATTOOED ON MY FOREHEAD!!!!!!!), thriller (OFC) and i've got all this ringing in my ears all singlehandedly describe my brain chemistry. that's what dopamine sounds like. ALSO fourth of july will never not sound like season 3 of stranger things to me. yk all the promo art where they're all turning around???? that but in gif form while the first few notes are playing. I wish someone would make a slightly harringrove centric edit of the starcourt mall incident and the fair and everything. if anyone knows about any season 3 fourth of july edits PLEASE send them to me because "i'm starting to forget just what summer ever meant to you"????? pls

PARAMORE. FUCKING PARAMORE RAISED ME. paramore got me through my teenage years almost singlehandedly. I remember when after laughter came out. I fucking love this is why. It's almost all I've been listening to. all we know is falling???? brand new eyes???? literally paramore have ZERO SKIPS it's insane. also (maybe I just haven't heard of them) but it's really refreshing to have a female lead singer in a pop punk band bc (again as far as I'm aware) that's not as common as having a male lead singer and IF I COULD MAKE MY INNER MONOLOGUE BE HAYLEY WILLIAMS VOICE??????? PLS- listen all I wanted was you is amazing obviously but my heart?????? MY HEART?????? I wanna scream that at someone and mean it. bucket list. I can't even reccommend any paramore songs bc if I try to think of good paramore songs I'm just going to list their discography. no fucking skips and I stand by that. Hayley's solo albums also feel very twilight bella swan depression forest angst core which I FUCKING ADORE. first thing to go is tattooed in my brain, specifically paired with this scene from the greatest romcom of all time french kiss. match made in heaven.

also lip candy don't have a lot of songs out yet AS I AM TYPING THIS I JUST SAW THEY RELASED AN ALBUM????? BRB LISTENING TO THAT NOW but they sound like what I thought teenager music would sound like when I was a kid (like they nailed it fucking perfectly) and have a very nostalgic feeling and sound to them which I adore. if you stay home and never be the same fucking slap. they slap and a half. it's giving demigod adventurecore roadtrip music.

[10dance]

Oh my goodness... I really have no words for this chapter other than more screaming, but I'll try to organize my thoughts! It's been more than a week since this chapter came out but I still can't believe it happened. It feels like a dream.

First, the thought that Sugiki got over his obsessive desire to monopolize Suzuki by realizing "they can't dance together if they become one" is kinda funny even if that's not true. I'm glad that he reached this conclusion, though. Good for him! Sugiki had a lot of highlights in these short 15 pages (including the ending), but one I really liked was "You'll do anything? You can't breathe without me?" It's almost a little taunting in a way. And then Suzuki blushes and says Sugiki's the only one... His expression speaks volumes. The slightly scrunched eyebrows, as if saying after all those months of agonizing over these feelings and this relationship, it's still him. God, my heart. Inoue is just so good at drawing detailed expressions that just say so much without dialogue!

Sugiki thought they could kiss right then, but Suzuki had to come clean... I have been wondering how this moment was going to go down for so long, probably years at this point since Suzuki started hooking up with Norman. We always knew Sugiki can be ridiculous at times but it really peaked here. I think he has good reason to, though, considering just a few minutes ago he thought he was going to be rejected again by the man he loves, no wonder he's short-circuiting...

This interrogation scene made me laugh so hard when I saw it first the first time! Sugiki confidently assuming that he meant Fabio, and then imagining Saichi only donning a cute apron... Are you sure you're not the one attracted to him, Sugiki? But then Suzuki dropped the bomb, and Sugiki would have never guessed it in a million years, I feel so bad for him. Is it kind of weird to ask how many times they had sex? Yes, but I think it's also kind of reasonable? Especially when Suzuki's answer of "Uhhh... I don't remember..." made it so much funnier. That's the worst answer you can give!! Sugiki then says he'll go fuck Norman for a while as well, that's going down in the top most ridiculous Sugiki moments of all time. Though I won't lie, ex-rivals/friends/one-side-is-still-holding-a-grudge is a nice BL dynamic...

Suzuki, pulling his collar, got Sugiki to turn around and we finally see Sugiki crying for the first time in the story. Such a vulnerable and intimate moment between the two but there's also so many eyes on them. I'm scared that someone might've taken a video or something, but I think that's unlikely.

Sugiki crying and asking Suzuki to make him his only is so... ah, it just tugs on my heartstrings! He looks so submissive and breedable pathetic, and I love pathetic men especially if they don't do this often. Jokes aside, I read Sugiki's crying as not being able to contain all of his emotions and ending up a sobbing mess (hugs him). He might be jealous in that moment (I'm calling it now that Inoue will use it as a gag), but it felt more like he was just focused on Suzuki to only belong to him from this moment on rather than anything else. And we know the answer is yes B)! Their kiss is my current discord pfp because of how glorious it is.

After most updates I am always dying while waiting for the next one, but this time I can die happy knowing they are finally together. It was truly a cathartic reading experience when it first came out. Of course, we are getting ever closer to the Ten Dance Championship, but for now I'm just glad these two idiots worked it out after 13 years of publication!

10 Dance - chapter 42, part 2 summary

Suzuki has asked for Sugiki to be his. How will he respond, and where will the two end up after Suzuki makes a shocking confession?

Full summary and highlight images under the cut.

Chapter 42, part 2: 好きにならずにはいられない (Can't Help Falling in Love)

Published online on October 4th, 2024, available to purchase on Comic Days, or rent for 10 days on Yanmaga.

The scene continues from last time, where the Shinyas started a conversation on the busy sidewalk in front of Sugiki's studio and Suzuki asked for Sugiki to be his. Suzuki states that both of them are worse off being apart from each other. Sugiki responds to Suzuki's earlier offer to become the same person, saying that they won't be able to dance together if that happens. He asks if by wanting him to be his that Suzuki means for Sugiki to become his possession. Suzuki starts to protest, but Sugiki asks if not being with him makes it feel like he can't breathe. Suzuki says that's correct, and that Sugiki is the only one who makes him feel that way. Sugiki smiles and says that it's the same for him, grabbing Suzuki's shirt and pulling him closer, poised to kiss him.

Suzuki stops him and tells him to wait. Sugiki looks annoyed and wonders why, and Suzuki starts to sweat as he confesses that he had a relationship with another man. Sugiki menacingly asks if he could repeat that, and Suzuki quickly and quietly mutters that he had sex with another guy. Sugiki claims he already knew that, making Suzuki wonder how he found out. Sugiki guesses that it was Fabio, since he saw the video Fabio posted of them kissing on social media. Suzuki brushes that off, and Sugiki then speculates that he got seduced by his "indecent housekeeper", picturing Saichi wearing nothing but a frilly apron. Suzuki denies that, and Sugiki asks who it could have been. Suzuki takes a deep breath and says that it was Norman, which leaves Sugiki shocked. He asks if it happened just one time, and Suzuki admits that it went on for a while. Sugiki wants to know how many times, but Suzuki says he doesn't remember. Sugiki quickly turns to walk away, saying he's also going to go sleep with Norman for a while. Suzuki is confused as to why he'd do that, saying that's not what being the same person as him should mean. Sugiki determinedly says he's going to become even more like Suzuki than Suzuki himself is. Suzuki asks if Sugiki even knows what he's saying, reaching out to turn him back around. He's shocked to discover that Sugiki has tears streaming down his face.

Sugiki slumps and puts his head against his chest, telling Suzuki to make him his one and only possession. Suzuki smiles, and the two hold each other and share a kiss.

Previous chapter: #42 part 1

Next chapter: There is currently no information on the next release date.

[sabraeal]

Desert & Reward, Chapter 14

[Read on AO3]

Written for @paintercat, who also guessed the correct winner for Trope Madness this year! With two correct guessers, we had to determine the kitty winner via points, but I thought there should be SOME award for getting so close. Took a few extra months to get the time to work on this one, but here it is!

Obi has never made a secret of his experience. I know how to ignite a flame, he’d told Miss once, and Master too. An easy joke to make, a safe one, the kind that said he was a harmless sort of rake, encouraging good girls to keep their distance. And what was Miss but the best?

Except she never did. No, instead she trusted him too much, putting herself so close to him that he’d catch himself wondering if he could light a fire where it didn’t belong. The sort of conflagration that would burn down the whole life he’d built for himself from the ashes of the last one.

Careful, he’d tell her sometimes, when she ventured too close, putting bare skin mere inches from his, hate to find out you’re an easy tinder.

Standing here, the candles above turning her gown into gold so solid she might as well have been cast, it seems as different sort of joke entirely. How he’d flattered himself thinking that she might even smolder near him. He’d spent years at Lilias keeping the cold from seeping into her bones, and not once had there been the trace of smoke, not a single ember.

Makes sense; just because the candles burned on an altar didn’t mean the idol catch too. And now he has three years with which to disappoint himself daily.

“I should have known,” he says, giving the door a rueful grin. “You can’t count on dads for anything.”

Her mouth twists, somewhere between amused and annoyed. “Well, I could have told you that.”

The breath he’s holding rushes from him like sand coursing through a glass. “You’d be the expert. You’ve got more dads than anyone I know! Your old man, Lata, Marquis Haruka. Legally I think you can even claim that His Maj--”

“Please.” Her mouth pulls into a grimace. “Don’t even joke about that one.”

“Fine,” he relents, sinking down into one of the hardest stuffed chairs he’s ever subjected himself too. It seems that this is not an antechamber for guests His Majesty wants to linger. “Consider it my wedding gift. Don’t say I never give you anything, Miss.”

His smile meets silence, his mistress stock still save for her hands. They lace and unravel endlessly, a patchwork of his mistakes. “I didn’t say...” Her mouth works around sounds that refuse to come. She shakes her head, finally knocking a few loose “I just wish I knew why you never told me.”

Obi’s joints lock on reflex, his heart racing in his chest, wondering if she could possibly mean--?

Ah, no. Obi has more secrets than there are stars in the Lilias sky, more bodies buried than even the Wistal catacombs could hold. When she glances at him, mouth wrinkled with misery, he knows it could only be the one most recently exhumed.

“It wasn’t personal,” he tells her, though the words lost in the cavernous expanse of the room. “It just happened, and...”

It wasn’t supposed to matter. That’s what sits at the tip of his tongue. His favorite sort of excuse. I’m not anyone worth knowing about, don’t you agree?

It’s the sort of answer that would work on Master, making him throw up his hands or earn Obi a long, quiet look before a labored change of topic. On Miss, though, he knows better than to try.

“I didn’t think it would change anything,” he admits instead, drawing each word out like a horse at a quartering. “It’s not like I thought His Majesty would actually expect me to..to...”

Her mouth may stay serious, but her eyes spark, and oh, if anyone is a quick tinder around here, it’s him. “Actually be a lord?”

“See, you get it.” He slumps, the brocade of his chair rumpling his jacket. “Who would have thought they’d actually box me up and ship me out to some country seat, making me look a numbers and letters. Can you imagine, Miss? Me, looking at ledgers?”

Her dress shimmers when she sits, perching on the footstool too close to his knees. “I remember you reading one or two when the occasion called for it. Didn’t you spend a whole day going through the logbooks when Touka Bergatt tried to--?”

“That was for Mister, Miss,” he grimaces, hunching down. “I don’t just do it for anyone.”

“Not even Iza--?”

“Especially not for him.” He’s the one that frogmarched him into this whole disaster in the first place. Political expediency his ass. “You know that he was the one to float the idea that Lata could dump all his responsibilities on me if he went through this adoption thing. And then this whole marriage--”

The small hand hovering by his knee flinches back, burying itself in Miss’s lap.

“Ah, Miss.” He doesn’t think when he reaches out; it’s all instinct when his hand closes around hers. A poor one, he realizes, her cool fingers curling over his palm with no leather to mute the feeling. It’s a good thing this damned jacket covers his arms, otherwise she might see the goosebumps tracking up them. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’ve been the best thing to happen since His Majesty shipped me south.”

The tension sighs out of her, fingers pressing flat to thread through his own. “I hardly think Lata needs Izana to tell him how to shirk his duties as a lord.”

“Fair enough,” Obi snorts. “He was doing a good job of it all on his own.”

There’s a curl at the corner of her mouth, the barest hint of humor, but it’s gone the longer she sits, gaze fixed on where their fingers knit together. “Obi...”

When Miss looks at him, it’s always head-on, resolute, confident in whatever request she’ll make of him. But now she shifts on her cushion, her gaze filtered through the dark lace of her eyelashes. “I know you didn’t mean for it to feel personal when you didn’t tell me. But it’s just that...”

She glances up, her fingers gripping the barest bit tighter. “We’re still close, aren’t we? You aren’t...?”

Obi’s been stabbed before-- multiple times, in a host of inconvenient places, including one where the only comfortable position was ass-up on his belly-- but still, this is worse. An knife is an inconvenience, but Miss’s disappointment...

“Of course, Miss!” He doesn’t think when he squeezes her hand, their palms pressing close as a kiss, but oh, he wishes he had. It would save him the trouble of his mouth dying up the moment he needs it. “Really, I thought it would never matter. Something we could both laugh over once His Majesty sent me back off to Lilias, maybe even get a free dinner off of dear old dad. But...”

A corner of her mouth lifts, wry. “Then we got engaged.”

“Ah, well...” He scrubs at the back of his head, if only to keep from tugging at his shoulder. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“But I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me after.” Her mouth pulls thin, cheeks puffed enough to threaten a good pout. “It seemed a little more than trivia then.”

“Mm, right.” His grin bears teeth as he adds, so sweetly, “Kind of like what happened between you and m-- Zen.”

She has the grace to blush, even if she won’t look at him. “Ah, that...there was never a right time.”

“His Majesty said that all happened half a year ago.” It’s his turn to pin her down now, watching her squirm beneath the directness of his gaze. “That’s before I even left Lilias.”

“Ah, well...” It’s hard to keep up this glare when her finger absently traces down the bones of his hand. “The letters came with the same messenger. And when you said Izana was recalling you to the castle...”

His jaw nearly drops. “You already knew what it was for.”

“You would never have left if I told you.” She finally looks at him now, jaw in it stubbornest clench. “You don’t care about titles, but I think we both know, if you climbed any higher in the guard, other people would. I thought I could wait until you came back, when everything would be more settled, but...”

“But His Majesty collared me into going to Cacciatore straight from the castle,” Obi sighs, itching at his brow. Knowing the king, he probably planned it that way too.

“I meant to write it in my first letter, but it just...didn’t fit.” She grimaces. “Or in any of the ones after. It just seemed better if I told you myself, in person. And when you invited me, I thought that would be the perfect time to-- to--” she takes a steeling breath, meeting his eyes-- “to tell you everything.”

It’s too much to look at her, to let his world narrow to just the two of them, so he shakes his head, settling back in the chair. “Maybe it’s a good thing I never told you about Lata.”

He feels her glare rather than sees it. “What do you mean?”

“You never would have married me if I did.”

“T-that’s not true at all.”

“Oh really?” He cracks open his eyes, leaning forward as he says, “That so, Shirayuki Forzeno?”

He’s too close; her breath catches and it’s as loud as a moan in a bedroom to his ears, enough to make even his skin heat beneath his collar, but when he pulls away--

She grips tighter, enough that her knuckles pale where they hold him. “Say it again.”

He has to be hearing things. Making his own wants out of her needs. “M-miss?”

“Say it again,” she says slower, too clear to mistake. “Please.”

“Um...” It’s an effort to keep his voice from cracking. “F-Forzeno...?”

Her nose scrunches, cute enough to kiss. Oh, he’s slipping if he’s letting thoughts like this out of their vault. “Not that. My name. I’d...” She glances up at him, and it’s not anger in her eyes, but something he’s never seen on her. At least, not pointed at him. “I’d like you to say it. Just one more time. If you don’t mind.”

“I...” He licks his lips. A terrible idea, since now they’re sensitive, tingling when her breath fans across them. “Miss, I don’t think...”

“Obi.” It’s a word he feels rather than hears, vibrating the air between them. “Please...”

“Shira--”

The door swings open, rattling when it hits the wall. “Are you two still in here?”

Zen fills the doorway-- well, as much as he can-- folded arms creasing his coat as much as his frown does his face. “What are you up to?”

Obi springs from the chair, palm cold where Miss’s no longer hits into it. “Oh, nothing that would interest you, Highness,” he assures him with a grin that keeps trying to slip from his mouth. “You know how it is, being newlyweds. Basking in each other’s company. Whispering sweet nothings. Maybe even getting in a few--”

One gloved hand stalls him. “Save it.”

“But, Master, as my best man, shouldn’t you--?”

Zen grimaces. “I’m here in an official capacity. My brother has informed me that the documents you...reviewed yesterday are ready to be signed.”

It’s only then that he sees the other figure in the door; a man middling in height between both of Clarines’ Highnesses, his mouth pinched like he’s bitten into something sour.

“Yuuha,” Obi says with relish. “Now doesn’t that kill the mood.”

“Could you go any slower?” If it was possible for Zen to pace up a wall and over the ceiling, the past few minutes would have been crucial to the discovery. As it is he’s wearing a trench in a carpet that costs more than most men would see in their whole lifetime. “This was meant to take a few minutes at most, not a quarter of an hour.”

“You’ll have to excuse me,” Obi drawls, squinting at the words scrawled in front of him. He’ll give the clerk this much; he may be a prick, but his writing’s neat as a pin. Even if he might be more comfortable reading with a magnifying glass. “It’s come to my attention only idiots sign contracts they haven’t read first.”

Zen huffs, throwing himself into the nearest armchair. “You didn’t bother when you started working for me.”

“Yeah, and I got an earful for it.” He hands the page to Miss, who merely skims it before she sets it to the side, waiting for him to finish the next. “I figure now that I got stuff to lose, I should probably be more careful with it. Unless I want to go the way the last Marquis Conti went.”

There’s some more sighing at that, but he must make his point, since Zen only grumbles, “Well, just hurry it up. Otherwise everyone’s going to be wondering what you’re up to in here.”

Obi can’t help the grin that stretches his lips. “Doesn’t that only help our story? You know, lovers who can’t keep their hands off each other?”

With a waggle of his eyebrows, Zen’s skin flushes. “That’s--”

“I know that Izana says passion was supposed to rush us to the altar,” Miss interjects, taking the last page from his hands and signing her name with what looks more like chicken scratch than a name. “But I thought it was more...our friendship was sufficient courtship, not that we were eager to jump into bed. Or, I suppose, that we were eager to cover up just how quickly we took that leap.”

“W-why not both?” It’s with iron resolve that he clamps down on mentioning just how he’d like to fall into bed with Miss. “Though maybe it’s better the first way. More yearning. Makes sense why we’re turning the wedding night into a wedding afternoon--”

“Just sign it already,” Zen sighs. “Or else we’ll never make it to the party, and I spent forever planning it.”

“You’ll understand if you get married,” Obi tells him, signing his name primly, right next to Miss’s. He doesn’t think about how nicely they look next to each other. “Or when, if His Majesty gets his way.”

“Don’t remind me.” Zen jumps up from his chair, snatching the contract from his hands. Despite the theatrics, there’s a spring to his step, and the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. “Now get going already. I’m going to have to field enough questions about what you two were up to as it is.”

“Oh!” Miss leaps to her feet, cheeks flushed as she takes his arm. “People won’t really...?”

Zen’s grimace is his only answer.

“Best not to ask, Miss,” Obi assures her, brushing past the clerk at the door. “I hope there’s free booze.”

“What are you talking about?” Zen grumbles. “You can’t make guests pay at a wedding.”

Miss gives him an amused look. “You know,” Obi murmurs into her ear, “I think I could get used to this lord business.”

[fangirleaconmigo]

Are you taking requests actually? I want to know if Jaskier ever or often patches up geralt’s wounds

ETA: CORRECTION! THANK YOU ANON. PLEASE REBLOB THIS ONE FOLKS.

Hi Elsa! So here I am apologizing again to a tumblr fren for how long I take. But I really do open a gdoc and pick away at these for months. Hopefully they are worth the wait.

So. Here is your next installment of ...

I Can't Believe It's Not Fanon: facts that sound like Geraskier fic writers made them up, but that are in fact, book canon.

'Bandaging each other up' edition.

In Geraskier fic, the ‘’bandaging each other up” trope is wildly popular. That just makes sense. Geralt has a dangerous job + we all want them to show each other care and tenderness. Restrained yearning while touching is a great combo.

Now, is it book canon? (drumroll please)

Yes folks. It's canon.

They both patch each other up at least once that is mentioned. The time Geralt bandages Dandelion is much more dramatic so I'll focus there first:

Geralt does patch Dandelion up. And while it isn’t just like fanon (there are no kisses) it is an incredibly pivotal moment for Geralt. Seeing Dandelion get hurt and put at risk, fucks Geralt up so badly that it leads to one of the most iconic scenes in the series. It also portrays one of my most beloved tropes of all time. I will get into all that.

 Also, as a bonus, the way their friends react to Dandelion’s (relatively) minor injury, is so fucking funny and cute. There is this fanon going around, (I saw a post I can’t find now) where Jaskier gets minorly injured and the wolves fuss over him and make a big deal over his bravery. XD It’s very cute. 

And actually.

That is canon. Only instead of the wolves, it’s the hansa. (For the uninitiated, the hansa is an iconic group of friends who wander the continent through a war hellscape with Geralt to help him find Ciri)

Ok *clears throat* here is what happens when Dandelion is injured. I talked about this part a bit in my “Geralt being extremely protective of Dandelion” post, but I have something new to say about it, I promise.

So, in Baptism of Fire, Geralt and Dandelion are on the same horse, fleeing an enemy. They are in a clearing, and are trying to make it to a forest for tree cover. Geralt is riding in front, and Dandelion is holding onto Geralt for dear life in the back. If they are caught and overpowered, it would mean certain death. In that context, here is how Dandelion is injured:

When hope dawned that they might just make it, the night air suddenly sang with a whistle of fletchings. Dandelion yelled, this time very loudly indeed, and dug his fingers into Geralt’s sides. The Witcher felt something warm dripping onto his neck.

Uh oh. Bard down. What does Geralt do?

“Hold on!” he shouted, catching the poet by the elbow and drawing him closer to his own back. “Hold on Dandelion!”

So first, he draws Dandelion closer, hoping he can cling to his back. And how does Dandelion react? Well, Dandelion has been hurt before, when the djinn got him. But that was magical. There was no blood involved. No one has ever made him bleed his own blood before. So, he panics.

“They’ve killed me!” the poet howled, impressively loudly for a dead man. “I’m bleeding! I’m dying!”

The tongue in cheek humor is one of the hallmarks of the witcher books. But yeah. The poor guy utterly panics. They almost make it into the cover of some woods when Dandelion pitches backwards off the horse.

The poet thudded onto the dirt and lay still, groaning pathetically. His head and left shoulder were covered in blood, and glistened black in the moonlight. 

Now, this part I've discussed. The next part is where we see how it makes Geralt feel to see Dandelion harmed like that. 

The witcher sprang up, feeling a swelling wave of cold fury and hatred inside him...he wanted to kill.

Seeing Dandelion attacked makes him feel cold fury and homicidal rage. So he faces their pursuers and kills the leading rider in a grotesque way, by way of a blade into his open mouth up to the hilt. (Geralt is an intense motherfucker when you hurt someone he loves) Then he goes back to his friend.

“Dandelion! Where were you hit? Where is the arrow?”

“In my head, it’s stuck in my head.”

“Don’t talk nonsense! Bloody hell, you were lucky. It only grazed you.”

“I’m bleeding...”

Dandelion has never been shot before, so he thinks the pain means the arrow is stuck in his head. Geralt is massively relieved. And then Geralt does something that we do see a lot in fanon.

Geralt removed his jerkin and tore off a shirtsleeve. The point of the quarrel had caught Dandelion above the ear, leaving a nasty looking gash extending to his temple. The poet kept bringing his shaking hand up to the wound and then looking at the blood, which was profusely spattering his hand and cuffs. His eyes were vacant.

So Geralt takes off his own jerkin so he can get to his shirtsleeve and he tears his own clothing to get ready to bandage Dandelion. Dandelion is in shock. His eyes are vacant.

And here’s the part that really gets me.

The witcher realized he was dealing with a person who, for the first time in his life, had been wounded and was in pain. Who, for the first time was seeing his own blood in such quantities.

Now, again, Dandelion was horrifically wounded by the djinn. But it was magical and he was cured. But this is the first time he is bleeding from a wound. And to me it is so crucial that this is the thought that Geralt has. Despite the fact that he’s closer to a hundred years old than fifty, and has been injured countless times, he never loses sight of the fact that his friend doesn’t have the same experience of physical suffering that he does. (I’ll come back to that). Now. Back to the story.

“Get up,” he said, wrapping the shirtsleeve quickly and clumsily around the troubadour’s head. “It’s nothing, Dandelion. It’s only a scratch. Get up, we have to get out of here fast.”

So Geralt wraps up his wound. But since they are in the middle of a battle zone and he is emotional, it is quick and clumsy and he's trying to calm him. And now he needs to get him to safety.

Dandelion managed to get up, but immediately sat down again, groaned and sobbed pitifully. The witcher lifted him to his feet, shook him back to consciousness and hauled him into the saddle. 

Geralt mounted behind the wounded poet and spurred the horse east...

So, he reassures him, rips his own clothes to bandage him and he tosses him on the horse for safety. Now they ride off to find their friends, and now Geralt is behind him, holding him up.

Now, we get back to the hansa. If you don’t know hansa, there is Milva, who I have profiled here. She is a very tough archer who has been through a lot of shit and can beat your ass. There is Cahir, (nothing like tv Cahir) who used to be a soldier. So. Also a warrior. And we have Regis, a several centuries old vampire who can go from genteel to deadly in the blink of an eye. (we don’t have Angouleme yet). I'd be willing to wager that Dandelion is the baddest ass poet on the continent. But compared to Geralt and the other members of the hansa, he is a soft squishy little wet kitten, and they rarely let him forget it.

When Geralt reunites with them, Regis bandages up Dandelion with a real bandage. Regis is a barber/surgeon and very good at field medicine. 

And the way Regis talks to Dandelion is so sweet. Like, there is an inherent ridiculousness but to me it is so goddamn touching. Here he is treating him:

“Be brave, Dandelion.”

Dandelion was brave.

“Almost done here,” Regis said, setting about bandaging the victim’s head. “Don’t you worry, Dandelion., you’ll be right as rain. The wound is just right for a poet, Dandelion. You’ll look like a war hero, with a proud bandage around your head, and the hearts of the maidens looking at you will melt like wax. Yes, a truly poetic wound. Unlike an abdominal wound for instance. Liver all cut up, kidneys and guts mangled, stomach contents and faeces pouring out, peritonitis...Right, that’s done.”

It is so comedic how he talks to a grown man like a child but it's genuinely touching to me because there is real compassion in it. They may have suffered far worse (Regis has been quite literally torn apart), but they still are so proud of him for dealing with his wound. Also, he knows to appeal to two of Dandelion’s biggest priorities; good poetry and impressing women. 

Then, we really see the emotional effects of Geralt seeing Dandelion injured like that. 

Right after this happens, Geralt tries to drive his friends away. He says his mission (they are trying to find Ciri in a war zone) is too dangerous for them. He gives his “I’m going it alone now, you can all leave” speech. Dandelion has no intention of leaving him and sasses the fuck out of him, shading him in a very accurate way, as he does.

“It only concerns you,” Dandelion repeated slowly. “You don’t need anybody. Company impedes you and slows down your journey. You don’t expect help from anybody and you have no intention of relying on anybody. Furthermore, you love solitude. Have I forgotten anything?”

And Geralt’s response shows us how badly Dandelion’s injury had him fucked up. He replies to Dandelion:

“Had that arrow passed an inch to the right, you idiot, the rooks would be pecking out your eyes now. You’re a poet and you’ve got an imagination; so try imagining a scene like that...”

That arrow, that close call on Dandelion's life really shook Geralt. Though he always worried about them, Dandelion’s injury was the inciting event for him to try to push away his friends in order to protect them. But of course no one leaves him. They make him sit down and chop vegetables for the iconic fish stew scene. Ok, now back to the ‘everyone is proud of Dandelion for his injury’ trope.

The group reunites with Zoltan Chivay, their dwarf friend, and he shouts and embraces Dandelion. 

“Dandelion, alive and kicking, even if your skull is bandaged! And what do you say, you bloody busker, about this latest melodramatic banality? Life, it turns out, isn’t poetry! And do you know why? Because it’s so resistant to criticism!”

I love how all of these warrior/soldier/badass types love to tease him about being a poet. It’s the kind of teasing that shows affection and indicates that they consider him part of their group, even though his gifts are different than theirs. Then later, Milva talks about how she misjudged Dandelion and how he is a hero.

“I saw how Dandelion puts on a brave face: but thought him weak, soft, not used to hardship. I was just waiting for him to give up and we’d have to offload him...Now just look: Dandelion’s the hero...”

But of course, Dandelion cannot just be cool about the attention he’s getting. He has to make ballads about himself.

Dandelion followed behind Regis and Geralt on Pegasus, with a bandaged head and a warlike mien. As he rode, the poet composed a heroic ballad...the song clearly implied that the author and performer had been the bravest of the brave during the adventures.

The man just cannot. Be. Cool. About it. But I think it’s cute they all let him preen and they don't tell him to stfu about a damn grazing of the head. XD That's true friendship. True love.

So, can I tell you about what really really gets me about that bit though? 

Geralt, our main character, has been abused and traumatized in every way imaginable. He has been tortured, assaulted, discriminated against, experimented on, beat to shit, and people are always trying to kill him. 

In my experience, people who are traumatized can sometimes resent people who have had an easier life. They can begrudge other people their comparative innocence, freedom, or ignorance. It’s human. It happens. 

So when there is a fictional character (Geralt) who is that traumatized, and they meet someone comparatively sheltered (Dandelion has been beaten for sure, but it's hard to compete with Geralt's experience with harrowing violence), and instead of resenting that person, their instinctive emotional reaction is an undying, almost pathological determination to protect the more sheltered person, that gets to me. It hits me directly where I live.

The compassion and empathy it takes to have a wound like a crater and instead of begrudging other people their relative safety, you dedicate your life to preventing them from getting a scratch, that is profound. And when I see it in a fictional character, I fall in love with them. That’s it. I just hand them my heart. It also sort of implies to me a sense of vulnerability. An instinctive desire for healing. When you can heal someone else and it makes you feel good, isn’t that like wanting healing for yourself? It makes me ache.

Girl help, I’m in my feelings again about Geralt of Rivia.

Dandelion helps Geralt Sew His Wounds

Now, the fanon of Jaskier patching up Geralt is not on the page in book canon. He must have helps him with smaller injuries from time to time, just by sheer necessity given how many years they travel together. And while he hates murder and gore, I imagine he can handle small wounds. But that isn’t on the page.

CORRECTION: AND IT IS ON THE PAGE.

Thanks to a lovely reader/observant anon who reminded me AND hunted down the passage, it is mentioned at least once that Dandelion helps Geralt with suturing a wound. In Sword of Destiny p227:

" Just before the girl arrived, Geralt had poured a coagulating elixir on his mutilated forearm, and boosted it with an anaesthetic elixer, and Essi had caught them just as he and Dandelion were suturing the wound using a fishing line tied to a hook."

Now, other times, when Geralt is very probably-would-have-been mortally wounded (after the striga, or after the redacted), Jaskier is not physically present, and once someone else helps Geralt because they are much better equipped to do so. On the page, it is always usually women who put Geralt back together: priestesses, sorceresses, or dryad healers. 

The women in Geralt’s life challenge him in various ways, and their respect is sometimes hard earned. But they are always there when he needs them. They are all powerful or learned healers. And Yennefer specifically tries to think of his health. She indirectly pressures people to pay Geralt more for jobs so he has more of wages for medical expenses. It is touching, AND really important how it places Geralt and witchers as part of the working class.

Dandelion constantly defends Geralt. Geralt is his specialest boye. But he never bandages Geralt in the books. And he also canonically helps him suture his wounds.

So, this one is 50/50. Half canon half fanon. It's canon, folks.

ALSO, that story, (A Little Sacrifice, which is a short story in Sword of Destiny) is PEAK domestic Geraskier/Gerlion. They pool their money and get in brawls together, and they share a bed and clothing. They also philosophize, psychoanalyze each other, bicker, and swear not to leave each other when they get into trouble out on a hunt. If you don't want to, or can't read the books, I recommend that one short story.

The "male gaze" is heavy (most people's critique of The Witcher books is very true) in that story. The mermaids breasts are described at least twice every time she makes an appearance. But the story IS really fucking delightful and you get so much insight into Geralt and his friendship with Dandelion is in top form. Also, I adore Essi, and she is in that story.

Anyway, thanks again to the eagle eyed anon. I usually try to qualify "that is not in the books" with "that I remember" since my brain is so fallible. But I really thought I would have noticed something like that! Goes to show.

And I think it's HYSTERICAL that the ONE time I write that Gerlion DON'T entirely behave like they're in a fanfic, is the time that I'm wrong XD.

[promenadewithme]

May I please have prompt 62 with Simon Basset x female!reader?

Of course! Thank you for requesting!

Pairing: Simon Basset x Fem!Reader

Prompt: 62 (”She doesn’t belong with him” “Than who does she belong with?” “...with me.”)

Warnings: very slight angst with a happy ending. I'm sorry, but I just had to include him saying "I burn for you".

Word count: 1.7 k

Tell me if you want to join my tag list!

Oblivious

__________________________________________

Dearest Readers,

it has come to this author’s attention that Lady (y/n) (y/l/n) and Lord Benedict Bridgerton were seen promenading earlier this week. We all know Miss (y/l/n) to be a close friend to the Bridgertons, but will she officially become part of the family? Rest assured, if there is an engagement this author will find out.

Your’s Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

__________________________________________

YOUR P.O.V.

“This is absurd!” you exclaimed. “We were seen walking and now we’re to be married?”

“Calm down, (y/n). You know Whistledown is just a gossip, no one will remember this in a week.” said Benedict, putting down his sketchbook to look at you. 

As soon as you woke, your lady’s maid showed the infamous society papers and you all but ran to the Bridgerton estate. Benedict was, as always, in the drawing room sketching away. He had already read the paper, but thought nothing of it. He was calm, so calm it irritated you.

“Ben, you don’t understand! If people think I’m engaged to you, they will stop courting me and, unless you plan on marrying me, that is a disaster! I have to marry this season!” at this point Benedict stood up and caressed your arm in an attempt of calming you down. To anyone else, this scene would be scandalous and incredibly improper, but you and Ben have known eachother since infancy and were the best of friends, so there was nothing romantic about the gesture.

“(y/n), my dear, what is this rush? We are still young, you can see so many more seasons before being considered a spinster. You are beautiful, smart, accomplished and any man in the ton would be more that lucky to have you as his wife. If they don’t see it, it’s their loss. As for the rumors chasing them away, I believe it will do quite the opposite.” he said with a smirk.

“Whatever do you mean? If they believe I am to be married, how would it attract them?” you asked, incredulous.

“Well, not to brag, but I am a Bridgerton. If they think you caught my eye, they’d be curious to know what’s so special about you. So, don’t fret. All will be well.” With one last reassuring squeeze, he turned around and sat back down. “Now, are you going to Lady Danbury’s ball this evening?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at his sketch, not quite contempt with the shading.

“Of course I am, it’s the biggest ball of the season!” you exclaimed, sitting down on the sofa in front of him.

“Thank the heavens! If my mother tries to push eligible ladies my way, I’ll run in your direction.” he said, still sketching. Benedict stopped for a second and looked up at you “I heard a certain Duke will be there.” he stated with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and said “We all know he is bewitched by Daphne, it does not matter if he will be there.” 

“Of course it matters, you are in love with the man! And, to be completely honest, I don’t believe it is my sister who his heart belongs to. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, it’s the same way Colin looks at maps or Eloise looks at books.” He was leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped.

“Like I’m an object?” you said, kidding of course and dying to change the subject. You had the tendency to get your hopes up and the last thing you wanted was to believe your friend and end up with a broken heart.

“Like you hung the moon and the stars.” he had a serious expression and your heart skipped a beat with the thought that Simon would ever look at you that way, but you knew it would never happen. So you waved your hand, smiled and said “I think all the charcoal and paint is going straight to your brain, Mr. Bridgerton. I expect to see your hands all clean if you are to dance with me to trick your poor mama.” Standing up, you curtsied mockingly and said your goodbyes before walking out the door. 

SIMON'S P.O.V.

Simon woke with news from Lady Whistledown. He was never one to believe in gossip, but Daphne was always talking about the society papers during their fake courting, so his curiosity got the best of him. What he did not expect was to read (y/n)'s name.

He had sworn to himself that he would never marry, but arriving at the beginning of the season he couldn't help but be smitten by you. He tried to fight it, but every time you smiled he saw himself smiling along, every time you wore his favourite colour he forgot how to breathe, and every time he saw you with Benedict Bridgerton he couldn't control his jealousy.

He confided in Daphne about it and she guaranteed (y/n) and the second Bridgerton son were just close friends, but Lady Whistledown seems to think differently. To be married? Was this true? If so, he knew it was for the best. He would be able to keep his promise to himself, but he could not help the ache in his heart as he dressed for the day.

(Y/N)'S P.O.V.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, pleased with the outcome. Your lady's maid had weaved delicate flowers in your hair, that was pulled up loosely and you wore your newest dress, long white gloves and the family diamonds. Madame Delacroix really outdid herself this time. It was your favourite colour, with princess sleeves, only slightly puffed, and had embroidered tulle at the hem and bottom part of the skirt. You looked truly beautiful.

"(y/n), it's time to-" your mother paused at the door and looked at you. She smiled softly at your reflection. "You look so beautiful, my dear... Do you think a certain Lord might like it too?" she said smiling softly.

"It is not the Lord's attention I want, mama. You know Ben is just a friend" you said, playing with the skirt of your dress.

"I know, sweetheart, I just don't want you do get hurt. All I want is for you to be happy and what better than to marry your best friend?" she hugged you from behind and kissed your cheek, still looking at your reflection.

"To marry the one you love..."

SIMON'S P.O.V.

"You really have outdone yourself, Lady Danbury." Simon said, looking down at the woman who practically raised him. She was wearing a white gown, a tiara and long white gloves, radiant as always, leaning on her cane.

"I always do, my boy. Now, look at that! Your beloved has arrived." she declared with a small smirk.

"I have already spoken to Daphne" he said, nodding in the Bridgerton family direction, however his heart was beating out of his chest as he turned to look at (y/n). It seemed impossible, but she was even more beautiful than the last time he saw her. Simon looked away before he was caught staring.

"We both know I'm not speaking of the Bridgerton girl. You are not as discreet in your brooding as you like to think." he looked at you again, but you were already speaking to Benedict, who was leading you to the dance floor. "What is bothering you, boy?"

Simon stared at the pair dancing for a moment before responding. "She does not belong with him."

"Than who does she belong with?" (y/n) was laughing at something Benedict said and Simon could not bare the view anymore.

"...With me." he mumbled before heading to the gardens.

(Y/N)'S P.O.V.

The song finished and you curtsied, smiling at your best friend. The smile slowly turned into a frown as you saw Simon walking out, into the gardens.

"Go after him." Benedict whispered.

"What? We would be unchaperoned, it would be scandalous!" you answered, only loud enough for him to hear.

"I'll stand at the door and make sure no one sees. Go!" you smiled and wished you could hug you best friend. "Thank you, Ben." you said as you went into the garden after the man you love. The weather was pleasant and the garden was completely empty, with only the Duke passing back and forth close to the bushes.

"Simon?" he stopped in his tracks, looking surprised as he gazed back at you and stepped closer.

"What are you doing here, if we were to be caught unchaperoned yo-" you stopped the nervous man by saying "Benedict is at the door, no one will see."

"Of course he is." he mumbled, but you heard.

"What does that mean?" you asked, not understanding his sudden dislike for the lord.

"It means he is always around, always with you." he spat out.

"Well, he is my best friend." you could not believe what he was saying. "What do you have against him?" you questioned.

"Are you truly to be married?" he demanded, ignoring your question.

"What?" you replied, completely incredulous.

"Please don't." he murmured.

"Simon, I-" you tried to answer but he cut you off.

"Before you say anything, please listen to me. Don't marry him, please." he paused for a second, adjusting his posture. "I love you. You..." he shook his head. "You don't even know what you do to me. Ever since I can remember, I have promised myself I would never fall victim to love, would never marry, would not let my family name carry on. Then came you."

Simon took a step closer and continued to speak. "You changed my plans, awoke desires I never knew I had, you have stolen my heart and my soul... I burn for you." he took your gloved hands in his, caressing them softly. "Don't marry him, marry me." he gazed into your eyes, waiting your answer.

"Simon... It was never my plan to marry Benedict, I was completely honest when I said he is nothing but a friend." you smiled up at him before saying "you are the one I love, always have been."

Simon grinned before pulling you into a passionate kiss, one hand on your back and the other behind your neck. It was a good thing Benedict was at the door, if anyone saw this scene and the rumours reached Lady Whistledown... You didn't even want to think about the ruin it would bring upon your family.

When you and Simon finally parted you managed to mumble "We truly have been oblivious, haven't we? I thought you were in love with Daphne." he chuckled.

"And I thought you to be with Benedict. Good thing you followed me out here, my love." he said, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

"From now on, it's all I'll ever do."

[proserpina-magnus]

Hiiiiii could I request a Marauders x reader… platonic. Where they are just coaxing her through a bad day/migraine?

Hii! there isn't that much comforting other then them being clingy and sorta protective, but I still hope you like!!

The Marauders When You Have A Migraine

Word count; 1.8k

[ Warning: fem reader, doodles, eating, migraines/description of headaches, swearing, Sirius refers to you as “their baby” ]

Quick note, there’s a scene where the boys draw on the reader with a marker. I didn’t specify what colour the marker was, so depending on your skin colour you can interrupt the colour as you wish.

You slumped at the Gryffindor dining table, hair matted in a low messy hairstyle. You didn't even try and brush it out, you woke up and left it how it was. You couldn't even bring yourself to dress in new fresh clothing, you wore what you slept in.

Eyeing the breakfast options, you felt a pain tingle through your head. The nerves bunching and squeezing together to make it unbearable to concentrate.

" [ name ]! We have class in 15 minutes and you're not even dressed!" James bellowed from across the table, you pushed your shoes against the floor and slumped. Remus gave a confused look, his eyes narrowing as he glanced between Peter and Sirius.

"Come on, we have time to get some food in 'ya," Sirius declared, pushing toast onto your plate. The curly raven haired male even buttered your toast just the way you liked, even filling your glass with fresh squeezed orange juice.

"How 'ya feel-in?" Peter pronounced through mouthfuls of food, James swatting the blonds head in retaliation. "Wormy, don't speak with your mouth full,"

Sirius cackled from beside you, Peter stomped his foot onto Sirius in response. Sirius made a dramatic scene, falling towards the cold stone floor as he held his foot with forced shaky breaths. "My foot! My foot! I've been assaulted!" He whined, rolling from side to side.

Remus lets out a loud sigh from beside you, your head buzzing from the noise of ongoing chatter. You could hear James laugh loudly, like he always does. Usually his laugh was contagious, but it was incredibly annoying at the moment. Along with snickers and loud whines, you gripped your cup and brought it to your lips. Peter swallowed, reaching for another pancake as he watched you take long sips.

" ya never answered my question," Peter rambled before taking a gracious bite. You shrugged, Sirius sliding back into his seat. The boys all looked towards you, your fork picking at the blueberries Sirius pushed onto your plate moments prior.

"Another headache?" James asked, cleaning his pants from crumbs as he pushed his finished plate aside. You nodded briefly, a plain expression adorned on your features. Another hot buzz dangled in your mind, your forehead throbbing along with it.

"Maybe we should take you to madam Pomfry, you shouldn't be getting them this often," Remus responded. Sirius made a pouting face, before he took you into his arms.

"Our baby is hurt!" Sirius exaggerated loudly, causing staring eyes to look towards the group of friends. You flushed a bit, embarrassed by Sirius nature. You pushed him away, going back to picking at your food.

"I ain't nobody's baby," you said while pushing Sirius further away, James and Peter sniggered as Sirius made puppy dog eyes. You rolled your eyes, a bit grumpy from the constant throbbing.

"Bloody hell, it fucking hurts. It's not even bad, it's just the constant throbbing is pissing me off," you complained, shoving the piece of toast in your mouth. You watched as students finished eating, occasionally leaving for their first class of the day.

The boys all exchanged looks, Remus placing a hand on your back to give it a gentle rub. You push your plate back, your arms coming on the table as you rest in them.

As more students leave, professor Mcgonagall makes her way over to your rambunctious group. She softens at the scene, seeing the four boys rub your shoulder or arms to try and give their sympathy.

You sigh as you hear her shoes click with the ground, professor Mcgonagall stands a few inches away from you all. She clears her throat, all eyes directing towards her except for you.

"Class is about to start... is there a problem with miss [ last name ]?" The older woman asked, trying to mask her worry. Remus had explained earlier to her that you had been having numerous migraines.

"She's having another headache Minnie, our baby is dying!" Sirius exclaimed, Remus reaching over to swat him away from you with an annoyed look plastered on his face. Even though you couldn't see Sirius, you laughed as you thought about his whining face.

Professor Mcgonagall clasped her tongue, about to tell off Sirius for the nickname he'd given her. But instead, she placed her attention on you.

"I'll take her to the infirmary, surely madam Pomfrey has a potion to help," she explained, the boys all standing together in the same motion. You still kept your head pressed into your forehead.

"Can we go with her?" James whispered, hoping that they could be with you. They all hated when you were in pain, it felt like they had to protect you. You were their bestfriend, they surely couldn't let a thing ever bug you unless it was them.

"I'm sorry Potter, but you have class," Professor McGonagall frowned, the boys were about to protest to stay with you. But Minnie quickly shut them down, her hand raising as all the boys shut their jaws closed.

"It's alright, I'll see you later," you told them, raising with a throb as you walked with them all towards the doors. You parted way painfully, Sirius almost crying as he clung onto your leg. The rest of the boys watched, even James tearing up. He took his round spectacles off, dabbing his eyes with a spare cloth he had in his pocket.

"You can't be serious," you retorted at them, an annoyed look on your face as Minnie checked her watch with frowned eyes.

"Well... technically," Sirius began, but he couldn't finish his sentence as you kicked him off of you. You were upset, tired, and in pain. As much as you loved them, they were too much sometimes.

"Just go, I'll see you later," you tried to cover up your annoyed state, but the boys picked up on it. Sirius straightened up, fixing his shirt as they left with their heads down casted towards the ground.

"Idiots they are," you told Professor McGonagall, she only laughed and led you towards the infirmary.

—-

After a few missed classes, it was finally lunch. All the boys scrambled to the dining hall, shoving foods on plates. They ignored the stares, jogging up to the infirmary where you slept.

With the creak of the door, Sirius and James peaked inside. They saw no one, only a lump on the farthest bed. They all skipped over to you with slow whispers, trying to make sure you won’t wake up. Sirius pushed the blanket of your face, all of them relieved to see you still asleep.

“Prongs, do you have a spare marker on you?” Sirius asked, a growing smirk on his face. James put down the plate on a nearby table, fishing through his pockets to try and find a marker.

“Pads, no,” Remus said sternly, knowing what the raven haired male would do. Peter looked between the three boys, a bit unsure of what Sirius was going to do. The blonde boy put his plate near James, picking up half a sandwich as he sat near your feet.

“Pads yes,” Sirius smiled widely, James passing him the thick inked marker. Remus rolled his eyes, not stopping Sirius from his antics. Sirius crawled on the bed, an evil smile on his features as he unclasped the marker. He wrote “baby” with big thick letters on your forehead, giggling when you twitched and tried to swat his hand away in your sleeping state.

“Give me the marker,” James whispers, not waiting for Sirius to pass him it as he snatched it for himself. The bispecticle male drew 4 happy stick figures and a rat on your cheek, his tongue poked out in concentration.

“Why am I the only one in my amingi form?” Peter asked, frowning as James passed him the marker. He began to draw a small smiley face in your open palm, writing a messy “Peter was here” on your arm.

“Because, there wasn’t enough room and plus, you’re cuter in rat form,” James teased, but his words sounded very sweet so Peter took it as a compliment. Sirius and Remus cackled loudly, making you stir awake. Your eyes fluttered open, looking around between the boys above you.

“Uh… hello?” You greeted, stretching slightly as you looked around the empty room. Sirius pushed Peter and James away from the bed, sprawling his limbs out to hog you from their affection.

“Hi!” They all chanted at once, Remus moving closer as he pushed at Sirius to make room. The tall male sat down, rummaging through his bag for a minute before pulling out a chocolate bar.

“Eat,” Remus said, even opening the wrapper for you. He broke off a piece, swatting Sirius's wandering hand when he tried to take a piece for himself. You sat up on the bed, unaware of the markings on your skin. You chewed the gooey chocolate, resting against the bed frame with a satisfied hum.

“Did you bring me food?” You asked, a smile on your face as you realized all the plates. The boys nodded, bringing the plates over for you all to feast upon.

“What’s so funny?” You asked when Sirius started to laugh, James also chuckling. You irked slightly, touching over your face to try and see if there were crumbs. This made the boys laugh harder, making you feel embarrassed as you choke out a “what? Is there something on my face?”

You notice the little doodle Peter left you, realizing what had happened. You pushed Sirius's head, making him bump into James. You laughed at the scene, both boys rubbing their forehead with a pouty face.

“Does it come off?” You asked Remus, a sigh on your lips as you ran off towards the bathroom.

“Nope,” he called out, a small smile on his face. You looked in the mirror, seeing the obvious doodles drawn by your boys. You knew exactly who the culprit was for the big letters written on your forehead.

“Sirius! What the hell is this?” You called, stomping back to the bed where they all sat. Sirius raises his hands, pointing to James and Peter. “It’s not just me! They did it as well!”

“You bitch,” James gasped, a hand on his heart as he held a dramatic glint in his eyes. Peter dropped his head, muttering his apologies. All the boys start to bicker at Sirius, calling him a tattletale. You smile and lean back against the bed, bringing a biscuit to your mouth as you watch the quarrel unfold, this was definitely the entertainment you needed on this shitty day.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Three: Bye Bye

Warning: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader relationship.

Summary: After freeing the widows from chemical subjugation and destroying the red room, you and Yelena finally settle down.

Part 1 & Part 2

The widows welcome you, the ones you trained with and the ones you didn’t. After Dreykov was gone and you had nothing but time. Melina and Alexei go to work on replicating the antidote. Creating enough to free all chemically subjugated agents.

It’ll take time. But the more you free the more are willing to help. Some of the widows just leave once they are given freedom. Ready to wash their hands of all of this and start living. You understand that more than anything. Eventually the operation is running on such a large scale they hardly need you at all.

Natasha hasn’t reached out since you separated after the red room. Probably off with the Avengers trying to save the world again. No one blames her, for her inability to be still. Not even Yelena.

“So,” you plop down on the couch beside Yelena. “What’s the plan now?”

“I don’t know.” She admits, staring up at the ceiling. “To be honest, I didn’t think I was going to make it this far.”

“Yeah.” You tug at a loose strand of her dirty blonde hair. “That makes two of us.”

“We could pretend to be normal.” Yelena offers. “What would a normal person do?”

“Don’t know,” you shrug. “I’ve never been one.”

“Maybe...settle down.” Yelena’s eyes are far away.

“Would you have wanted to-“ You break off, trying to sort out the words. “I mean if you could…would you have a baby?”

She raises her brows, “I never thought about it.” A long pause. “I wouldn’t know how to be a mother.”

Neither would you. You’ll never be right. Whatever that is, was, or might have been. Always a little too guarded and rough around the edges. “You never waste time thinking about things you can’t have.” You sink farther into the cushions, her pinky skates over your own. Taking the invitation you twine your fingers together.

“I thought about you.” She lowers her eyes to the coffee table. “Everyday. Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“I-“

“The red room took that from me too.”

You shake your head at her. “They can never take anything from you or anyone else ever again,” you whisper. “And to be clear you can have me.”

A laugh rumbles out of her chest at the news. “I can?”

“I mean if you still want me.” You tease, “I know that the chase is half the fun for you. So I can keep on running. I’m one foot out the door-“

“I am tired of running.” Yelena murmurs, curling up against your side.

“Me too.” Your chin rests atop her head.

“Then stop doing it!” She scolds, slapping your arm playfully in retaliation.

“I will if you will.” You know why she runs. The same reason you do. Because you’re afraid. That maybe some parts of you are too broken to love.

She mulls it over for a moment. “Truce. I don’t run. You don’t run.”

“Deal.” You give her fingers a squeeze.

“Except into the face of danger.” She clarifies, only half kidding. “Then we run, straight ahead.” Yelena motions with her free hand. “But together.”

“Together.” You agree, with a soft smile.

“We could get a dog.” The tone of her voice tells you that she is invested in the idea.

“I wouldn’t mind a dog.” You prop your feet up on the coffee table.

Yelena hates anything but a straight answer. Still feeling the need to convince you, she presents the facts. “Dogs are really cool! They have special powers.”

You chuckle, “dogs do not have powers.”

“Yes!” Yelena argues, “they can predict natural disasters and judge character.”

“That’s a special power?” You quip, “I can do that too.”

She grumbles under her breath.

“I want one.” You sigh. Feeling all the tension leave her body.

“I knew you did.” She smiles, contently.

———————————————————————

Dogs might have powers, but the only thing your puppy currently seems to posses is the ability to chew up anything in her path.

“Yelena have you seen my-“ you pause, taking in the scene before you, “shoes.”

“Don’t be angry,” Yelena holds up a hand.

The tiny puppy beside her squeaks, not quite a bark yet. Your demolished sneaker tumbling to the ground.

“What happened?” You run both hands over your face.

She sweeps the dog into her arms. “I told Fanny we could go for a walk once you got out of the shower. She was excited, Y/N! She was trying to bring your shoes to you. But she got distracted, only a little.”

“A little?” You can’t help but smile.

“Look at this face,” Yelena waves Fanny’s paw at you. “You can’t be mad at this face. Tell her girl. Say, you can’t be mad at me Mom, I’m trying my best.” She brings the dog closer.

You raise a hand to pet Fanny lightly. Yelena’s right of course, there is no being mad at that face. “Let me find a pair of shoes that isn’t mangled. Then we’ll go for a walk.”

“I’ll wait with Fanny.”

“Of course you will.” You retreat to your bedroom. Rummaging through the closet in search of some sort of footwear. You’d settle for slippers at this point. Fanny joins you after a moment. Nuzzling at your ankle as she whines.

It’s not everyday that she follows you, she is Yelena’s dog and never lets you forget it. “You’re really excited aren’t you?” More whining. You scoop Fanny up. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

You huff, finally locating a pair of sandals. Slipping them on quickly so you can return to Yelena and gloat about being Fanny’s favorite. “Hey baby, I don’t know what you did, but look.” You smile, gazing up as you present the dog…to an empty room. That’s odd. Maybe she’s waiting outside.

You grab the leash Yelena abandoned on the countertop, securing it to Fanny’s collar. “Come on girl. Let’s go find Mama. Where’s Mama?”

Fanny follows you out the door, onto the walkway.

“Yelena?”

Nothing.

You scan the area, no sign of her. “Ok…” Back into the house, you check the bathroom next.

“Yelena!” You shout, knowing you’ll feel stupid once she replies. But she doesn’t.

A buzzing from the cell phone in your back pocket draws your attention. You set Fanny down gently, accepting the call and moving the device up to your ear. “Alexei?”

“Y/N! Oh thank god!” His voice booms through the speaker.

“Are you ok?” You ask immediately. Leaning down to grab the television remote, turning to channel thirteen, still broadcasting it’s usual gameshow.

“I am alone.” He cries through the speaker. “Melina left me with her pigs.”

“What do you mean she left you?” Something is very wrong.

“She disappeared.” He says somberly, “didn’t even say goodbye. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” The dramatic monologue continues. “I give her back rub every night and then-“

“No,” you cut him off. “Absolutely not.” Under no circumstance is he going to tell you what happens next.

“I have made mistakes, but this! This is cruel.” Alexei, clearly distraught begins cursing in Russian.

“Alexei, I know you’re upset but I need you to listen.”

“What?” He asks. “What is it?”

“Yelena is gone too.” You inform him. Your eyes flicker over the words at the bottom of your tv screen. “People disappeared all over the world.”

You fall back onto the couch, feeling all the air leave your lungs.

More hysteria on the other end of the line. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m gonna find Natasha. Maybe she knows something.” Assuming that Natasha is still here.

“What about me?”

“Come to Ohio. You can dog sit.” You offer, familiar numbness seeps into your limbs.

“I have nine pigs!” Alexei shouts back.

“We have a backyard, don’t worry.” You hang up before he has a chance to argue.

You return to the call screen. Scrolling to find a different contact. Pressing the dial button beside her name.

It rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello.”

“Natasha,” you let out the breath you’ve been holding. “What the hell happened?”

——————————————————————

The Avengers fortress isn’t exactly how you imagined. Not very homey.

You park your car in the lot. Removing your keys from the ignition and stowing them in your back pocket. The clear rectangular keychain with a picture of you and Yelena inside sticks out. Clinking when you round the vehicle to retrieve Fanny from the passenger seat. “Come on, Fanny.”

She wags her tail, waiting expectantly to be carried.

“You’re spoiled, you know.” You sigh, taking the puppy into your arms and closing the door behind you.

The front gate is open but Natasha takes a moment to locate. She cut her hair up to her shoulders, dyed it blonde. “Hello stranger.”

“You got a dog.” She says, in greeting.

“Yeah.” You reply, not in the mood for small talk. “It was Yelena’s idea.”

“I knew she’d sucker you into that.”

“It’s not like she could make me do anything I didn’t want to.” Your finger slides along the edge of the metal table Natasha’s seated behind.

She barks a laugh, “that’s a lie.”

Maybe so. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“It’s not mine.”

“Still cool. I like the hair too,” you motion toward her blonde locks.

“That’s not really mine either, is it?” She remarks.

“Is anything ever really ours?”

“No.” She frowns. “I guess not.”

“What happened?” You ask again.

“It’s a long story,” Nat crosses both arms over her chest. “You might want to take a seat.”

You clear your throat, pulling out the chair beside her. Fanny curls up in your lap, curious eyes darting about every now and then. You tell yourself it’s because she’s in a new place, but part of you knows, she’s looking for Yelena.

Natasha stares down at her hands. “Have you ever heard of infinity stones?”

You shake your head. “Must be an avenger thing.”

“There were six of them, scattered all over the galaxy. If a person has all six they can use them in anyway they choose. Thanos, used them to eliminate half of all living creatures.”

“Are you the only one left?” You lean in.

“No.” She sniffs, blinking away tears. “There’s others.”

“So where are they?” The place looks abandoned. “Why aren’t you charging into battle?”

“Because we lost. Probably the worst we’ve ever lost.” Natasha clenches her jaw. “By the time we found Thanos again he already destroyed the stones.”

“We’ll try again.” You decide immediately. This isn’t over.

“Will we?” Natasha shakes her head with a smirk.

“If she was gone for good I would know it.” You tell her truthfully. “I would feel it, in my heart and I don’t.”

“You didn’t see it happen. I saw him snap his fingers and-“

You lay your hand over hers, squeezing tight.

“Did you see her go?” She asks, voice just above a whisper. “Yelena. Did you see her?”

“No.” You confess, “I didn’t see.”

Natasha closes her eyes. “That’s why you still have hope.”

“Look maybe you’re right.” You shrug, “even so, now seems like a really stupid time to give up.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “What’s the dog’s name?”

“Fanny.” You inform her.

“Come on.” She rolls her blue eyes. “You’re kidding right? Tell me you didn’t actually name a dog after one of those stupid aliases Rick made me.”

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“I guess a dog’s better than a pig.” Natasha reasons. “Are they still here?”

“Not Melina.” You break the news quickly. Like tearing off a bandage. “But Alexei and all nine of her pigs are on their way to our house in Ohio.”

“Sounds crowded.”

“Always room for one more.”

——————————————————————

You stay like that for a long time. Hopeful. Sure that this was all some nightmare that you could wake up from; fight your way out of.

And then five years passed.

Now you come to see Natasha twice a month, just to check in. Alexei and his pigs have taken up permanent residency in the home you bought with Yelena. As for you, you bounce around. Never staying in one place too long.

“Any news?” You wonder, leaning against the doorframe of Natasha’s meeting room.

“No.” She bites out. Kicking her foot up on the desk. “You should move on.”

“Is that what you call this?” You flick your wrist in her direction. “Crying into a peanut butter sandwich.”

“It’s therapeutic.” She waves the bread at you. Tears welled up in her eyes. “You should try it sometime.”

“Nah.” You take a seat, reaching across to make a sandwich of your own. “It’s not the sandwich’s fault.”

“Am I interrupting the pity party?” Steve says, announcing his presence. Captain America is as self righteous as ever.

“Didn’t you grieve for a century over a girl you kissed one time?” You arch a brow at him, licking wayward peanut butter from the pad of your thumb. “Five years is just a drop in the bucket.”

Steve purses his lips, you have a point. “It wasn’t a century.”

“Close enough.” You mumble around a mouthful of your dinner.

“Want a bite?” Natasha offers half of her sandwich to him.

“No thanks.” He takes a step closer. “I’d offer to make you a real dinner, but already look pretty miserable. Where’s your dog?”

“Visiting her granddad.” Everyone and their mother loves that damn dog.

“Oh yeah, my great adversary.” How could he ever forget. “Is he still wearing that stupid suit?”

“I’m pretty sure the suits are stowed away. But it’s been a while since I’ve been there.” Your mind wanders to the vest. The one Natasha returned to you after Yelena was gone. The one you retired because it doesn’t smell like her anymore. Nothing does.

Most things remain untouched in the Ohio house. Your pictures. Your memories. Your plans. You can’t get rid of them. Can’t stomach being around them either.

Someone, a man, alerts the security cameras, pounding on the front door. “Hello? Is anyone home? Hello! Can you hear me?”

“How old is this video?” Steve asks, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s the front gate.” Natasha breathes, enlarging the image.

“Do we know him?” You squint at the man in question.

“It’s me, Scott Lang, Antman. I met you guys at the airport in Germany a few years ago. I had a mask on, you probably wouldn’t recognize me.” He rambles on.

Natasha presses the access panel, opening the gate.

You straighten yourselves out, before he makes it down the long hallway into the common room.

Scott paces, a lot. Nervously rubbing his hands together.

“Scott.” Steve finally cut in. “Are you ok?”

“Have any of you ever studied quantum physics?”

“Only to make conversation.” Nat says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ok. Alright so, five years ago. Right before Thanos. I was in the quantum realm. The quantum realm is like it’s own little microscopic universe. To get in there you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she’s my uh-“ he trails off. “She was my…she was- she was supposed to pull me out. And then Thanos happened and I got stuck in there.”

“I’m sorry that must have been a long five years.” Natasha apologies.

“That’s the thing, for me it wasn’t.” Scott replies. “It was five hours.”

“What a trip.” You snort, absently toying with your belt loop.

“The rules of time are different there. See everything is unpredictable.” He explains, getting distracted by the food in your hand. “Are you gonna finish that?”

“I guess not.” You hold it out to him.

He accepts, gratefully stuffing the bread into his mouth.

“Scott! What are you talking about?” Steve demands.

“So what I’m saying is time works differently in the quantum realm. The only problem is we don’t have a way to navigate it. But if we did, if we could somehow control the chaos; to enter the quantum realm at a certain point in time and exit at another point in time…like,” Scott locks eyes with you then. “Like before Thanos.”

You nod.

“Are you talking about a time machine?” Steve sighs, running a hand over his tense forehead.

“No. No of course not. Not like a time machine but like a…yeah.” There’s no other word for it. “Like a time machine. I know it’s crazy. But I can’t stop thinking about it! There gotta be some way.”

“Scott,” Natasha calls his attention. “I get emails from a raccoon. So nothing sounds crazy to me anymore.”

“So who do we talk to about this?” His eyes flicker between the three of you.

“Don’t look at me.” You hold both hands up. “That’s way above my pay grade.”

Part 4

Series Taglist: @3and30aresoultwins

[v-hope]

omg the love confession no.3 w tae would be adorable 🥺

forgot to add the scenario but just hella tension between the two and a misunderstanding? sees y/n with someone else but she does it to get a reaction?

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

genre: fluff, slighttttt angst, f2l

word count: 1.5k

prompt: “I love you, okay? I love you!”

a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i feel like i’m still lacking when it comes to writing but i loved writing this. also, y/n didn’t do it to get a reaction out of him in this one but it still did the job lol. i hope you enjoy, love!

To say Taehyung was fuming was an understatement.

Never in his entire life would he have thought he’d be jealous of one of his hyungs. Not only that, but he would have never imagined the cause of that growing green monster inside of him would be you.

He should’ve seen it coming, though. After all, he had brought it upon himself.

Drawing his eyes away from you and focusing them on the rest of the people on the dorms to try and forget about the way you were ever so happily laughing with Yoongi at their homecoming little gathering, he found himself staring back at you not even three seconds later — his eyes locking with yours this time, as you had just looked his way as well.

And then you smiled. Sweetly, lovingly… the same way you had done with your eyes closed when he had kissed you the night before leaving for tour.

The same smile that had been quickly erased when he had panicked right after and told you to forget about it so the two of you could go on with your lives being the best of friends you had always been.

It was on him. He had been the one to ruin his chance with you. And so now, he had no right to feel jealous over you enjoying your night with his hyung.

But he did. Fuck, he did.

It was his first night back in Seoul after four long months and, instead of being attached to the hip to him like you always were, like he had been aching for you to all that time, you were right in front of him with someone else.

“Why the long face?” your voice brought him back to reality, having been so immersed in his own feelings that he had missed the way you had excused yourself to Yoongi and walked over to him instead.

Taehyung didn’t answer, a shrug of shoulders being all you got from him instead.

“Are you mad at me or something?” you wondered.

He bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding your eyes. “Why would I be?” his eyes travelled from Yoongi on the other side of the room to you. “It’s not like you’ve been ignoring me all night to hang out with hyung”.

Your jaw fell slightly open. “You’re serious right now?”

There it was again, another shrug instead of a proper answer.

“I literally spent nearly an hour next to you although you were barely even speaking to me and only went to talk to Yoon a few minutes ago”.

“Yoon” he mocked snarkily.

“Seriously, what is your problem?”

“You,” he hastily blurted out. “You are my problem”.

“Excuse me?”

Taehyung laughed under his breath, shaking his head in a way that showed no remorse whatsoever. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about”.

“I really don’t?” your tone, although confused, became stronger.

“You and Yoongi hyung?” he raised one of his eyebrows.

“What about it?”

“Come on, Y/N” his eyes faintly squinted. “I see the way you’re laughing with him. And don’t think I don’t know about you guys talking on a daily basis while we were on tour”.

“So?” you crossed your arms over your chest. “He’s a good friend, I like talking to him”.

“Maybe a little too much” he bitterly pointed out.

You stayed silent, analyzing his factions and trying to figure out what the hell was going on and why on Earth was he making a scene over something so meaningless like you talking to one of his friends.

And the only conclusion you could come up with, you couldn’t believe. Yes, you two had kissed the night before he left. And yes, you had felt like your heart would explode right then. However, it was late at night, and you guys were sleepy… and the atmosphere was just right. He had let himself get lost in the moment —or so had he told you—, and he had made it very clear you guys were nothing but friends.

So, the way he was acting this very moment, seemed to have no ground whatsoever.

Unless…

“Is this about you fearing he’ll take your place as my best friend?” you asked what you thought the problem was. “Because if that’s the case, Taehy—”

“Fuck, Y/N” he threw his head back in frustration. “That’s not it at all!”

“Then?” you questioned.

This time, he was the one to stay silent — lips parting ever so slightly as he tried to find the courage to say what he was dying to, yet ended up saying nothing at all.

You shook your head in disappointment. “You know, I’ll just leave” your words caused his heart to skip a beat in utter panic. “Talk to me when you know the reason why you’re so upset over me talking to someone else”.

Watching you turn around and go get your jacket, saying a quick goodbye to all of the people present at the dorms before you headed to the door, he felt his chest hurt. And it was after you closed it right behind you when he finally snapped back, not letting another second go by before he ran to the front door as well.

“I know the reason” he blurted out before he could fully come out of the apartment.

You stopped in the middle of the hallway, hesitating for a few seconds before you turned around.

“What?”

“The reason” he repeated, closing the door behind him. “Why I am so upset over you being so close to Yoongi hyung, or to anyone else for that matter. I know it”.

That had seemed to catch your attention, taking one step towards him. “And what is it?”

Taehyung took in a shaky breath. He had kept his feelings to himself for too long now and had been stupid enough to deny them to you even after you had kissed him back. He needed to say it for once and for all.

“I love you”.

And so he did. In a whisper.

A whisper so low that it had not managed to reach your ears.

“What?” you asked once again, eyebrows furrowing as you took yet another step towards him.

Only it wasn’t necessary to be close to him in order to hear him anymore, for he earned up the courage to finally, confidently say: “I love you, okay? I love you!”

You gasped, feeling your heart beating so hard against your chest you might as well had just been running a marathon. “You’re joking”.

Taehyung sighed, biting his bottom lip as he made his way over to you — feeling his heart ache when you took a step back from him. “I have never been more serious in my life” he stated. “I love you, Y/N”.

“And what it took for you to realise it was me talking to someone else? Because let me tell you, Taehyung, that is—”

Your words were cut off by his soft lips gently pressing on yours, the same way they had done four months ago. The same way that had taken your breath away and forget about the world.

“What it took for me to realise was kissing you back then” he murmured, wet lips brushing faintly against yours.

You shook your head in disbelief, an almost inaudible scoff escaping your mouth. “That is bullshit. You said you had got caught up in the moment and that you didn’t want our friendship to change because of it”.

“I was stupid” he was quick to admit. “Kissing you felt so good, so… right. I panicked. You’re my best friend, I was going on tour the next day, I…”

He sighed, sheepishly shaking his head as he did not know what else to say, how else to explain he had just been an idiot to deny his obvious feelings for you back then.

You, on the other hand, bit the inside of your cheek as you silently stared at him, trying to understand his motives and, more importantly, trying to figure out whether he was being genuine or not.

When you decided he was, you smiled sweetly. “You’re an idiot”.

“I know” he mumbled with lowered head.

“And I should be so mad at you right now for making me feel so shitty when you said those things right after we kissed”.

“I know”.

“Because I love you, too”.

“I kn—”

His eyes snapped up to fix on yours, searching on them for any kind of a cruel joke being displayed on them. “What?”

“I won’t say it again” you warned him.

He bit his bottom lip. “So you and hyung…”

“I told you, we’re just friends” you rolled your eyes. “Am I not allowed to have other friends?”

“You are” he nodded, taking your hands in his and pulling you closer — just enough so he could press his forehead on yours. “Just not ones you love the way you love me”.

You shoved him away in annoyance, only to be pulled right back to him. “You are insufferable”.

“Yet you still love me” he laughed lightly.

Shaking your head as an amused smile curved up the corners of your lips, you didn’t have time to neither agree nor deny his cocky statement when his mouth was back on yours.

After all, all it took for him to know his feelings were reciprocated, were your lips moving against his and your hands wrapping around his neck.

[visenyavires]

Bleed Not For Death, But For Love

Chapter 3: Devotion, You Shall Have

Warning: Blood and sorta NSFW scene ahead!!!

I stare at myself in my vanity (like I had the time to) trying to figure out what to wear, how to do my hair, and honestly, how to compose myself. She called me “My Darling” in the letter she just left for me, rather than by my name. Maybe it was a new pet name? I honestly couldn’t tell, but I am freaking out on the inside about it. Did she pick up on my subtle hint of admiration I gave her in the Hall of Ablution? My mind is absolutely racing as I snap out of my dissociation trance and put on a plain, black, full-length dress, and pull my hair half up. I throw on some black heels that I bought in Italy as well and check to make sure I look presentable in the mirror. I pull a few wisps of hair down to frame my face elegantly and leave my chambers. It's about a 3-minute walk from my room to hers, but 2 if I speed walk. I walk quickly but also try to avoid being out of breath by the time I reach her chambers. “Draga Mea…,” her voice echoes in my mind as well as the image of her bathing in the thick, ruby liquid. I can’t stop thinking about it, I’m actually beginning to obsess over it.

I reach her chamber door and the smell of ambrosia and hand-rolled cigarettes reaches my nose. I take a deep breath in and savor the atmosphere it creates before I raise my hand to knock.

“Come in, dear,” I hear her coax from behind the door embossed with a large, golden house sigil. I open the door to see her standing at the balcony, a wine glass in one hand and a freshly lit cigarette in the other. She’s wearing a long, black gown very similar to the one she normally wears with red roses for her brooch that matches her scarlet lips. She is still wearing her iconic sun hat with the wide brim and her pearl necklace with her house sigil as the pendant. She takes a long drag from her cigarette and exhales slowly before turning and walking to the left to reveal a glass of red wine sitting on a small table, untouched as well as two chairs, one larger than the other.

“Have a seat,” she commands, but not harshly. I do as I’m told and she hands me the glass of wine. I make eye contact with her as she sits in the larger chair opposite me and she takes another drag from her cigarette before speaking.

“Do you know why I summoned you here tonight, Y/N?” She asked with that slight commanding tongue. She lets her hand with her cigarette hang loosely. I stifle a shudder, hoping I didn’t mess anything up.

“No, my Lady, I’m afraid I don’t,” I say as I look down at the wine glass I’m holding in my lap.

“As the Grand Chambermaid, there are some things you need to know,” she begins.

“First, you need to know that I have extremely high expectations, which is why no one here chose to step up to the position you have claimed. Second, you need to understand that these expectations are strict. There is very little room to change the order and manner I desire them to be done. Given that you had no time to prepare for today, yet you still exceeded those expectations, I want to reward you with some of my finest red blend.” She said, her tone softening only a little bit.

“I also wanted to make you aware that as my Grand Chambermaid, your orders come straight from me and no one else.” Her tone had a hint of darkness in it and made me wonder what happened at her meeting today.

“Even Mother Miranda?” I ask, hoping I didn’t step out of line. She takes a second to pause, clearly trying to make up her mind on if this is something she really wants to go through with.

“You are an outsider of the village, you do not need to take orders from her. I am the one paying your salary, so you are mine and mine alone,” she declares possessively.

“Yes my Lady, I shall only take orders from you,” I nod, keeping eye contact.

“That’s a good girl,” she purrs and leans back in her seat and crosses her legs, relaxing. I exhale silently, but heavily. She’s playing with me, I can feel it. I was so sure I was in trouble for a moment. I bring the wine glass to my nose and sniff the aged liquid before I take a sip. It’s possibly the best wine I’ve ever tasted. Her eyes are glued to me as I lower my glass and smile.

“This is divine, my Lady. I’ve never had anything quite like it.” I say, trying not to be too ecstatic about it.

“That’s because it’s my own blend,” she says, her chin tilting up and her eyes staying locked on me. She’s proud, and I’m impressed.

“There’s no blood in that specific blend. That is the kind I sell to mortals. My personal favorite is my Sanguis Virginis. It’s not for human consumption,” she states with a serious tone. I take another sip and sit back in my own chair, trying to mimic her body language.

“I didn’t know you ran a wine business, my Lady,” I say, indicating that I would like to hear more. She has kept her eyes on me the entire time, watching my every move. She ignores my invitation to talk more about it, she seems to have other plans.

“The other reason I summoned you here tonight is that I have a long-standing tradition with my willing Grand Chambermaids,” she says huskily. My breath catches as she draws one last drag from her cigarette before she leans forward to put it out. She takes a sip of her “wine” and relaxes in her seat again.

“You spoke earlier about devotion and loyalty. I want to know how far you’re willing to go,” she states with a hint of challenge in her tone. Now she’s testing me. She’s making it very obvious that she knows what I desire. I could only come up with one answer, and for once, my anxiety didn’t stop me from speaking.

“How far do you want me to go?” I asked, rather bravely. To this, she grins somewhat wickedly. Her golden eyes turn glassy and I suddenly realize… she’s hungry.

I stand and set my glass of wine down, my heart racing. I know she can sense it. She uncrosses her legs, sits at the edge of her chair, and reaches her gloved hand out for me to take. I slip her glove off to reveal an elegant hand with sharp, scarlet red nails. She turns her palm upward to grab my hand and pulls me between her legs up to the edge of the seat, her skirt is the only thing that separates me from her skin. I stand only a few inches taller than her seated form and her mouth is perfectly aligned with the middle of my neck. My heart pounds, her eyes fixate on my pulse point. Our faces are mere inches apart and she looks up slowly to meet my infatuated stare. I see thick desire meshed with hunger in her eyes, and I know she sees how much I want this.

She rests her gloved hand on the small of my back and watches herself caress my neck with her nails before returning her gaze up to mine. I get chills all over my body.

“Devotion, you shall have,” I say huskily. She grins and lets out a vocal sigh of pleasure, almost a laugh. I close my eyes as she takes a sharp nail and slices into my neck ever so slightly. I manage to suppress a wince as the sting takes over my skin. I gasp with pleasure as I feel her tongue lick up the pooling blood from the fresh cut. I hear a soft moan come from her throat as she presses her lips to my neck and she pulls me closer by the small of my back so that I’m leaning slightly backward. Her free hand slides over my shoulder blades and grabs the base of my neck to keep me still and close. She separates her lips from my skin only for a moment to speak in a deep, raspy tone.

“Devotion, I shall take, Draga Mea,” she says seductively and sinks her teeth into the open cut she created. I gasp at the sensation, which excites her and she pulls me closer so that I am now flush against her body. She’s leaning forward into me while pulling me close, her strong arms hold me effortlessly in a position where I am slightly reclined and practically sitting on her thigh. My body curves perfectly around her breasts and I can feel her throat pulsing against my chest as she drinks. She lets out a deep moan of pure pleasure like she hasn’t experienced this sensation in a long time. She holds me impossibly close and I feel a rush of euphoria, enough that I feel one hand run through her raven curls, the other hand slide to the back of her neck, and my leg that's furthest from the chair lifts to wrap around her waist. This only excites her more and she tightens her grip and sinks her teeth deeper. I let out an involuntary moan combined with a sigh and tilt my head back, in my own world of bliss. I realize this was all I’ve ever truly wanted, and I finally have it.

……….

A few moments later, my head begins to feel light and as if she could sense it, she slows down and reluctantly separates her lips from my neck as if it pains her. She lets out a gasp like she forgot to breathe the entire time and I know she’s dying to go back in for more. But instead, she looks down at me and tilts her head to the side ever so slightly, and gives me a divine, scarlet grin.

“My, my, Draga Mea, you are the best I’ve tasted in ages. You are pure încântare,” she purrs with a touch of adoration as she sits me up to blot her mouth with her handkerchief. I meet her gaze and smile lightly, happy that I was able to please her. She notices I’m light-headed and effortlessly lifts me with one arm under my knees and the other around my back. With her long strides, it’s a matter of seconds before we reach her bed, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. She sets me down gently and lights a candle beside me. She closes the doors and heavy curtains to the balcony to block out the sun that’s about to rise and removes her hat and jewelry. She then lays next to me with a handkerchief and blots the open wound on my neck dry as she hums an unfamiliar tune. I close my eyes and succumb to sleep, that tune fading more and more with each passing second.

……….

I wake up a few hours later tucked into my own bed, my hair taken down and brushed, my shoes neatly placed by my bed, but I’m still in my gown from the night prior. I know I have several hours left to sleep before I have to be up for work but I can’t stop thinking about what happened. I touch my neck to feel the marks she left behind and I smile widely. It wasn’t a dream.

Tomorrow, I am to meet her at dusk once more to help with her daily soak. Her daughters also requested my presence at midnight, what exactly for remains unknown. The last time I saw them was when I first arrived, so I wonder what scheme they’ve spent the whole night cooking up. But I won’t lie to myself, the impending conversation I’m to have with Lady Dimitrescu in a few hours is one I’m extremely nervous but excited to have. If I wasn’t infatuated before, I certainly am now, and now I can show it a little more openly.

I roll over in bed and see something sitting on the table in front of the fireplace. I have come to adore the mysteriously delivered items she leaves for me. I sit up but immediately get dizzy. There is a fresh glass of water sitting on my nightstand. Alcina Dimitrescu… I would’ve never taken her for the type to care for you after intimacy. I drink almost the whole glass and then try to stand. I’m able to walk to the table to reach the bottle of wine she had opened just for me. Beside it was yet another note written in perfect cursive.

“Draga Mea,

Here’s some wine to fill that glass you love so much. It pained me that you didn’t get to finish your treat. Rest while you can, I’ll see you at dusk in the Hall of Ablution.

Întotdeauna a ta,

- Alcina”

“Always yours” signed with just “Alcina.” Her signature was informal. She’s beginning to get comfortable with me. I’m shocked and extremely flattered. I know that Grand Chambermaids are supposed to be close with their Ladies, but she had no hesitation or fear. She simply was and I adore her for that. I wonder what she has planned in the Hall of Ablution and what all will be said.

I uncork the wine and inhale deeply, all the memories flooding back to me. I smile with pure contentment, close the bottle, and walk back to bed. The only reason I’m able to fall back to sleep is because I know it will help the time pass faster before I can see her again in a few hours. I play the tune she hummed to me over in my head until I drift into a dreamless sleep, only to be startled awake by distant, mischievous giggling, and it seems to be getting closer…

To be continued...

***** STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER 4, THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS ONLY BEGINNING >:) COMMENT BELOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO MY TAG LIST*****

Next: Chapter 4: Dangerous Game

Previous: Chapter 2: My First Day

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 30: Likeness

Draco Malfoy had spent his entire life being shaped and molded into the image and likeness of Lucius Malfoy.

It had always been assumed that he would go into politics, that he would settle down with a nice pureblood girl and have a child. His life had always been laid out before him like it had already happened.

But the summer Draco turned 18 he left. He left his family, left his friends, left the wizarding world all together. Draco cut his hair short on the sides and let the top grow out and then he dyed it pink.

He got a muggle tattoo; bright, beautiful flowers to cover up the dark mark: new life conquering death.

And he got a job dancing at a strip club. He was good at it, he had the body for it, for the corsets and the tiny panties, for the heels that made his legs look miles long. The muggle glitter made his pale, muscular body shimmer under the lights. He had the face for it, his eyes mysterious and otherworldly enough that the make-up only enhanced it.

He was a very popular act and Draco enjoyed the whole affair. He enjoyed people watching him, desiring him. It wasn't a forever career but it served him well.

It continued to serve him well for four whole years, before one night when the lights came up and he strut out onto the stage, rolling his hips and letting his hands caress his body, and just as he was reaching for the pole his eyes snagged on a pair of eyes he would have recognized anywhere.

It felt like eternity passed in the beat of the song he missed as he found Harry Potter staring back at him from the audience. A jolt of something electric skittered down his spine and Draco forced himself to look away and start dancing.

(Read more below the cut)

He hooked his leg around the pole and began his routine, falling into the familiar motions, spinning, and rolling, and flipping, using every ounce of strength and control he possessed.

And he very intentionally did not allow his eyes to stray to Potter.

Even without looking, though, he knew that he had the other man's undivided attention. It had been so long since he'd felt the heat of Potter's gaze on him that he'd almost forgotten what it was like to be the center of his attention.

At the very end, as he was collecting the notes that had been thrown at him, he allowed himself one more look.

Potter had grown up. He'd grown taller and his body had filled out, it was almost hard to believe that he was the same boy who'd come to Hogwarts looking malnourished, weak, and filthy to fight the most dangerous wizard to ever live. His hair had grown out, too, it was pulled back into a messy bun, and he'd grown in a beard that he kept trimmed neatly.

He had the sudden urge to feel the scrape of his beard on all of the sensitive places on his body, to sink his fingers into Potter's curls as his mouth tasted Draco's skin.

He made eye contact, and his arousal spiked at the look of sheer want in the other man's eyes. In that moment, Draco felt like the most powerful man in the entire world.

The man sitting next to Potter, a muggle that Draco didn't recognize, punched him in the shoulder and the moment dissipated like smoke.

With a quick shake of the head, he finished collecting his money and disappeared back stage without looking at him again.

That night he wondered what would come of Potter seeing him, wondered if he'd find reporters from the Prophet at the show the next night, worried that his world was crashing down around him.

But he couldn't seem to stop wondering if he might see Potter again.

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

Potter returned the next night, and the next, and the next, and so on for the following month.

Every time Draco stepped onto the stage, Potter was there in the crowd watching. And he found himself watching Potter more and more, until one night he spent nearly his entire scene watching the other man, he might as well have used Potter as a spot to keep himself from getting dizzy.

It was that night that he decided enough was enough. He had to find out why Potter was here and what he wanted. After his performance he changed quickly, pulling on a pair of skinny jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He slipped into a pair of trainers and headed out of his dressing room and toward the door that led into the club.

Potter was no where to be seen when he came in so he went outside and saw him walking down the sidewalk. "Potter!" he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.

The other man froze before turning slowly to look at him.

Draco jogged to catch up to him but found that he wasn't quite sure what to say once he was standing in front of him.

"Uh," the other man said inelegantly, rubbing the back of his neck, "Hey."

"Hey?" Draco spluttered incredulously. "You show up to every single one of my performances for the past month and that is all you have to say? Hey?"

"You're very talented," Potter offered.

"Yes," he replied.

Potter snorted, "Humble as ever, I see."

"Why should I be humble? I am talented," he said, tilting his chin up defiantly. "I've worked hard to get where I am."

"Sorry," Potter said, trying to backpedal, "I didn't-" he shook his head. "I'm not sure what to say to you. I didn't mean to offend you."

"I'm not offended," Draco replied. He crossed his arms, wishing he'd brought a jacket, "Just," he huffed, "tell me why."

"Why what?"

"Why you keep coming to watch me dance!"

Potter looked at him for a long moment, "Are you cold?" he asked.

"Yes," he replied, because it was true. Potter started to shrug off his jacket, "You don't have to do th-" but his protest fell on deaf ears as he looped it over Draco's shoulders.

"I've asked myself that very same question a thousand times," Harry replied. "In part, I think it's because so many people just stayed the same. It's why I left the wizarding world for the most part, everyone wanted me to be who I'd always been and I didn't want that anymore. I wanted to be allowed to grow and change. And you've obviously done that, too."

"So, what you felt like we were kindred spirits or something?" he asked.

"Sort of," Potter replied, lazily lifting one shoulder, "But you're just nothing like what I imagined you turn out to be and it made me wonder what else I was wrong about when it came to you."

"And you thought the best way to figure it out was by watching me pole dance?"

Potter laughed and rubbed the back of his neck again, "I don't know. I couldn't figure out what to do," he confessed. "I didn't know how to talk to you."

"Still," Draco said, "there has to be more to it than that."

"You're also bloody gorgeous," Potter added, "when you dance. And I really like watching you."

"Oh?"

He nodded, "I'd wondered a little bit before I saw you again if part of my obsession with you at Hogwarts was actually attraction that I just hadn't understood at the time."

"And?" he asked.

"Well, obviously seeing you again confirmed it." Potter looked down and scuffed his toe on the sidewalk.

In a moment of bravery that he'd never quite be able to understand later, Draco stepped forward, caught Potter's chin and pressed their lips together.

Potter took a surprised gasp, sucking a bit of Draco's air into his mouth before he started to kiss him back. His hands moved to cup Draco's face as he kissed him softly, gently like Draco was something precious, something treasured.

He'd been kissed a lot but he'd never been kissed like this. He'd never been kissed with such single-minded devotion, never been kissed like he was someone instead of something. Potter licked into his mouth, stroking his tongue over Draco's as one of his hands slid down to Draco's waist, drawing him a bit closer.

After a long moment, Potter pulled back first, "We should get off the sidewalk," he said.

"Logical," Draco replied.

"Could I take you to dinner?"

The corner of Draco's mouth tipped up, "I don't usually have dinner with my one night stands."

"Well, maybe I could not be a one night stand?" Potter said. "Not that I'm even remotely opposed to the idea of sex with you, I just can't imagine that one night could ever be enough."

"I might be able to be persuaded."

"Oh?" Potter asked, smiling wide enough that his dimples appeared. "How might I be able to persuade you?"

He smirked, "I'm not entirely sure yet but you're resourceful, you'll figure it out."

"Where would you like to go for dinner?" Potter asked.

"You flat," he replied. "I'm still in my stage make-up and it makes for some funny looks."

"Your make up is gorgeous," Potter protested, "But I'd be very glad for you to come back to my flat."

"Lead on, then," Draco replied, feeling a spark of anticipation.

This was just the first of many nights that Draco came to Harry's flat after the show. He came to his flat so often, in fact, that it eventually became their flat. And Harry had been right all along, one night (or one lifetime, for that matter) could never be enough.

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

You can read Day 107: Charge as a sequel to this ficlet. :)

Day 29: Punch | Day 31: Veritaserum

[fireinmoonshot]

SPIDER | BUCKY BARNES x READER | PART FIVE

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR Summary: Bucky doesn’t know what to make of you when he meets you. You’re friends with Sharon, and you seem pretty easy to read on the surface. But the more time he spends with you, the more he seems to uncover, and the more he becomes tangled in the web you unwittingly weave. Pairing: female!Reader x Bucky Barnes Fandom: Marvel / The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Word Count: 2,501 Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. A/N: I had honestly intended to squeeze the rest of Episode 4 into this part but this one particular scene ended up being longer than I’d expected it to be, so I decided to put it all into one part and I’ll just do the rest in another part. Especially because this particular scene is quite important to the relationship between Bucky and reader. Thank you once again for reading and do let me know your thoughts!

The plan had been simple. The four of you were going to head to Donya’s funeral and try and talk to Karli. Sam had spoken to Sharon – you’d been a little annoyed that you hadn’t been able to talk to her, though you’d pushed that to the side for now – and settled on a plan.

Not too long after your conversation with Bucky, you’d left Zemo’s apartment to head to the location of the funeral. And then you’d turned a corner and spotted the unmistakable suit of blue and red. The wannabe Captain America had found you.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!” Walker calls, heading down a flight of stairs at speed towards you. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen the man in person and honestly, you’re not phased by him. Even when you’d seen Steve Rogers on TV, it was obvious how different he was, how special. To you, John Walker seems like nothing more than someone trying to be something that they aren’t. It irritates you to see him in the suit.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Ah! How’d you find us now?”

Despite the fact that there were several people on the street, attention hadn’t been on you before. Now that Captain America was here, and yelling at that, every single set of eyes was on you. You shrink a little at the attention, shoving your hands deep into the pockets of your coat and shuffling a little closer to Bucky and Sam.

Bucky notices and moves closer to you unintentionally.

Lemar chuckles. “Come on. You really think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?”

“We were certainly doing fine before now,” you mutter.

“No more keeping us in the dark,” Walker continues. “You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison. And who the hell this new chick is and why she’s with you. Last I checked, she’s not an Avenger.”

Bucky stands a little taller. “He did that himself, technically. And she’s a friend, not a chick. That’s all you need to know about her.”

“Oh, this better be an unbelievable explanation!”

Sam steps up and holds a hand up to stop Walker as the two groups finally come together. “Hey, take it easy before it gets weird.”

Walker  looks pissed off. Honestly, you feel the same way.

“I know where Karli is,” Zemo steps up. He says the words, figures that they’re all he needs to get by and starts to go around Walker, intending to lead the way. Instead, Walker stops him.

“Well, where?”

“All we know is, it’s a memorial. So we’re gonna intercept her there.”

You look past Zemo and spot one of the children he’d been speaking to earlier watching you all anxiously. The sight of her makes you want to throw a punch Zemo’s way, and you hate that he made this innocent child trust him so easily. Bucky can sense the change in you. He nudges your shoulder with his and you snap to look at him. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand what he means.

“That means civilians. High risk of casualties,” Lemar adds.

“All right, good, we’ll move in fast. Take her by surprise.”

You roll your eyes. “Good? How is that good?”

Bucky snorts.

Sam ignores both of you. “No, I wanna talk to her alone.”

“I’m not losing her again,” Walker shakes his head.

“Look, the person closest to her died, she’s vulnerable. If there’s any time to reason with her, it’s now,” Sam argues.

The words strike a chord with Walker. He hurries ahead in front of all of you, forcing you to stop. “What? No. Wait, no! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop, okay? I think we’re way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot that she blew up a building with people still in it.”

Lemar agrees. “Sam, you walk in there cold, she could kill you.”

“And if I go in hot and the op goes wrong, more people will die.”

You step forward. “Then I’ll go in. Karli doesn’t know who the hell I am, and maybe it’d help – woman to woman, you know? And hey, if something goes wrong and I die, at least it’s not an Avenger dying at her hands. It’s just me.”

Bucky’s head snaps up at your words. Fear strangely spikes in his veins that you’d even suggest that and he shakes his head instantly. “No. No way are we sending you in there alone.”

“I mean, it’s not a bad idea,” Walker admits with a shrug of his shoulders. “Look at the alternative. You letting your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone. Would you really let him do that?”

“He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.” He says straight-faced. “And she is not going in there either. It’s a damn bad idea and we all know it is.” He turns to you. “You included.”

Sam sighs and walks past the both of you so he’s face to face with Walker. “I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is right in my wheelhouse.”

“Yeah, I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this is a bad idea. That’s why it’s a better idea to send the girl in there – like she said, it’s better her dying than an Avenger, right?”

You see Bucky take a step forward out of the corner of your eye and twist to stand in front of him before he can get to Walker, a hand going out in front of you and resting on his chest. You push him gently. “Don’t, Bucky.”

“You’re not going in there.”

He feels protective. He doesn’t know why, but Sam has an idea. He watches the two of you, sees something pass between you, and furrows his eyebrows. He hadn’t seen it coming, that’s for sure. Hadn’t seen you to be the one to bring out the ever protective side of Bucky Barnes that Sam really hasn’t seen in a long time. He hadn’t seen Bucky acting this way over anyone. And yet here you were, days after meeting him, making Bucky fear for your life on your behalf. Sam doesn’t know what to think.

Bucky lets out a long, shaky breath and then finally looks at you and meets your eyes, tearing his glare away from Walker. “You’re not going.”

“Okay, fine,” you relent, voice soft. “I won’t go in there.”

He steps back and nods, trying to calm himself down, and you step away from him, not wanting to crowd him too much after your apparently bad idea. You hadn’t expected him to react so much. In fact, you’d expected Sam to be all for the idea, and for Bucky to go along with it. Even if he was starting to trust you, his reaction to your suggestion had been entirely surprising. You stare down at the cobblestoned street beneath your feet and frown. What was he thinking? And why had he reacted that way?

“John,” Lemar starts, once he senses the tension has gone down a little. “If Sam can talk her down, it might be worth a try. And since we’ve just established that she’s not going in there…”

Walker and Sam share a look before Walker finally gives up. He looks over at Zemo. “We’ll deal with you later.”

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion. My associate is just up ahead.” Zemo points to the child and begins the walk towards her again.

You, unwillingly, follow him. Bucky makes sure he stays close to your side, as if he’s afraid that you’re going to run off and do something reckless. You doubt he’d let you get the chance.

A few minutes into the walk, he finally talks to you. But his voice is quiet. You’re walking at the back of the group and he doesn’t want anyone else to hear. “Why would you even suggest going in there to talk to Karli?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You frown. “It seemed like the best idea.”

He shakes his head. “You dying is not a good idea.”

“What does it matter, anyway? I said it. I’m not an Avenger. It was a good idea. And I think it could have worked if you’d let me. No one would miss me.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, I find that hard to believe.”

“No, it’s true!”

“What about Sharon, huh? She’d miss you.”

You kick at a loose stone on the road. “She hasn’t even spoken to me since I left.”

“What about me, then?”

His question takes you by surprise. “You?”

He nods. “Yeah, what about me?”

“You would miss me?” You could laugh. “Sure. You barely know me.”

Bucky feels weirdly irritated by your words. He knows you, he thinks. He knows that he likes you. That you understand him better than any stranger he’s met recently. He knows that you scare him a little bit. That your way of thinking, of reacting, of simply being sets him on edge and makes him feel right at home all at the same time. He clears his throat, tries to come up with an answer that isn’t conspicuous and settles on: “I think I know enough about you to know that I’d notice when you’re not here.”

“That’s not the same thing as missing, Bucky.”

He opens his mouth to reply just as Zemo announces that you’ve arrived and the two of you are forced to pause your conversation. The child leads you into the back entrance of an old building and then disappears. No one questions the location.

As soon as you’re inside, your conversation with Bucky is long forgotten and the mission takes first place. Sam goes off on his own, heading further in while Walker handcuffs Zemo and claims that Sam has ten minutes before you do this his way.

You sidle up to Bucky. “Can I punch him now, or do you want the honour?” You mutter, only loud enough for him to hear. He smirks at your words, though you can see he’s still obviously on edge by the whole situation.

And not just by the situation. Because of you, too. Though you don’t need to know that, Bucky thinks. That, he can just keep to himself.

After a few minutes of silence, Bucky heads towards the stairs that Sam had gone up and leans on the railing, as if guarding the entrance. You suppose he probably is, not wanting Walker to get past him, and decide to settle down on the steps themselves, adding another barrier between Walker, Sam and Karli despite the fact that you’re honestly probably not much of a barrier  compared to Bucky.

It doesn’t take long for Walker to get on your nerves. He’s clearly anxious about Sam wanting to simply reason with Karli instead of kill her on sight. He’s staring at the shield – the very shield that Bucky wants to steal – and you briefly wonder how he’s going to do it. Simply by the way Walker is holding it, you know he’s not going to give it up easily. He holds it tight, like it’s the most important thing in the world to him, and you feel like it probably is.

He starts pacing less than ten minutes after Sam leaves.

“Uh-uh. No, no, no. This is a bad idea,” he mumbles as he walks.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight,” Bucky offers.

Walker speaks with venom in his voice. “Don’t do that. Don’t patronise me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky is unaffected.

Tension rises in the air between all of you once again, as it always seems to do when Walker is around. It’s been a constant state of tension ever since he joined you.

He walks towards the end of the room, pauses for a moment, and then you can see the way his face changes. He hoists the shield higher, and then walks at speed towards you and Bucky. “I’m going in.”

Bucky stands up and stops him with a hand to his chest.

Walker, surprisingly, backs up. You think he’s going to listen to Bucky for just a moment before he looks up, staring at Bucky with a look you’ve only ever seen in a few people before, and never good people at that. You sit up straighter.

“This is all really easy for you, isn’t it?” He starts. “All that serum running through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?”

You can’t see the look on Bucky’s face, but you have a feeling you know how he’s looking at Walker. Slowly, you rise to your feet, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Back up, John,” you warn. “If Sam needed our help, we’d know.”

His eyes flicker to you. “Who do you think you are? I don’t even know you. What makes you think I’d listen to you?” He scoffs. “I’m John Walker. Captain America. You’re not an Avenger. You’re no one special, so I think you should be backing up.”

Bucky’s glare hardens. He narrows his eyes and takes a step towards Walker.

“Watch your mouth, John.”

Walker stares between the two of you for a few moments, and then before you know it, he slams the shield into your stomach, knocking you off to the side, and disappears up the stairs and into the building after Sam. You gasp for breath, the wind having been knocked right out of you.

“Asshole,” Bucky hisses, stepping towards you just as Lemar brushes past you.

You shake your head. “I’m fine, go after them.”

He looks worried. You’ve never seen him look at you this way before.

“Bucky, I’m fine. Go.”

He gives you a nod, promises to come back and then hurries out of the room after Walker and Lemar. He’s needed more there, anyway, and you both know it.

You rub a hand over your stomach as you try to breathe again properly.

“You okay?” Zemo calls over to you.

“Yeah, a shield to the stomach is nothing,” you roll your eyes.

It doesn’t take you too much longer to catch your breath, so when you do, you figure Zemo isn’t going anywhere and head out after Bucky, Walker and Lemar, even though you won’t be much – or any – help to them at all, but you can’t stay in that room with Zemo any longer, and truthfully, you’re worried.

Worried about Bucky, even worried about Sam. You don’t have any reason to be worried about them, and you know that, but you are. Bucky especially – he’s confusing you more than anyone has ever confused you in your entire life. You don’t know what to make of him, why he acts the way that he does around you. But whatever the reason is, you want to find out.

***

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[hitoshisbabygirl]

Author's Notes ♡: Hello hello! Welcome to my first JJK fic for our free for all Valentine’s Day collab! I had fun with this free idea , I always wanted to do an AU like this so it gave me a bases for future ideas! Enjoy~ bunny ❥

Warnings : None! Some heavy kissing and such but nothing too explicit , Yuuji and Sukuna are twins ♡

Word count : 3.8k

Paring(s) : Tattooist!Sukuna x F! Reader

Enjoy ♡

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Sukuna couldn't stand it, the girl his brother brought over to his shop plagued his mind. Wide eyed and just as happy as Yuuji it was infuriating how energetic the pair was in the tattoo shop. He was used to the sound of his brother asking for him but once he hear a second voice his hand twitches , eyes moving from the drawing in front of him as his appointment in front of him practically was begging fro his attention, occasionally trying spark up a conversation as he drew out a rose, planned for her collarbone “So, did all of you tattoos hurt?” The girl asked, pushing herself closer as he continued to stech, not paying her much mind. “No, I guess i've always had tough skin though.” He said as the girl hummed and giggled continuing her talking “I've been afraid of needles for as long as I could’ve remembered, but maybe this'll get me over my fear huh?” she questioned as all he did was hum, finishing the small design. “Maybe. Is this okay?” He asked her as she gasped, her giggling increasing to his dismay

“Omg i love it! You're a good worker with your hands” She said as he started to get ready, popping off his rings as he put on gloves, running up red and black inks for the rose to be. “Your right shoulder, right?” Sukuna asked as she confirmed, moving her shirt a bit too low to try to entice him. Pushing more of it back up, Sukuna placed and got the stencil ready, finally looking up to the girl “Tell me if there's anything wrong okay ?” He said as she gave him an almost hungry look “oh please i sure will” And with that he started the tattoo, the girl he was tattooing letting out small cries and gaps. Every one of the sounds made him stop, checking on her as the girl tried to act differently but he knew she was in pain. Once the girl stopped in a crying spell and was able to calm down from the help of the giant tattooist “s-sorry i didn't know my collar bone was so sensitive” she said as he said she was okay, starting to go back to her tattoo once everything was better with the girl. Once finished , she started to pay when she started to hit on him again “ I'm still sorry for that whole thing , how about I get you a drink for the troubles huh?” She threw at him as he gave her a small smile “I have more clients later, and i'd rather not drink, don't really like to unless its special'' Sukuna responded as the girl admired her new rose that covered a small portion of her chest and collarbone “ How about we go celebrate my new tattoo? And the fact you helped me through it huh?” She suggested. Before he could respond he heard the high pitched sounds of laughter. Looking up to his door he saw his annoying brother but with one of the most beautiful girls he ever saw. Once finishing the payment with his client and her sliding her number on a piece of paper his brother came up with his friend “Hey Su! I want you to meet my bestfriend [ ]!” his hyper twin brother Yuuji said as Sukuna looked at the girl in front of them. She looked to be their age , shorter than him with a few tattoos and dyed hair herself. “Nice to meet you young lady”

Sukuna said as he took her hand, giving it a kiss. [ ] giggled as Yuuji fake choked, his brother rolling his eyes at him “ What? Not my fault you've never brought her around me, she's a lady, gotta give her a proper introduction right?” Sukuna teased as Yuuji grumbled causing [ ] to laugh “Well nice to properly meet you Sukuna , ive heard so much about the woman lure bad boy whos the polar opposite of his sweet and innocent twin” She teased as he gave her his own smirk “ Yet i know nothing of the cute little girl standing in front of me” Sukuna lashed back as [ ] felt her face heat up, a laugh coming from her. His brother pouted he stood in front of his brother , giving him a knowing look. “I brought her here for a tattoo, idiot” He said as Sukuna gave him a raised eyebrow, looking at the girl beside him “Is that right doll? Came here for a tattoo?” He asked as she gave him a shy smile back “Well erm, i kinda wanted to start a sleeve with you if that's alright?” with widened eyes Sukuna and Yuuji were surprised together, the strawberry blondes both looking as the girl gave them a confused look back “What? Is that bad?” She asked as sukuna kicked in “Nah, i'm surprised that you'd choose me ,i'm not the usual girly tattoo sleeve maker” He said as she gave him a smile, “And i'm not your usual girly girl who just wants flowers and shit as my tattoo” She retorted back as he gave her an impressed smirk, ushering her to the back of his studio room “You can come too twerp” he said to his brother as yuuji ran to join them, headed to the back room.

This became a recurring theme as over the next few days and even weeks , Sukuna and [ ] met to talk about her new additions, adding and removing elements as they started to get a good picture of what they both thought looked the best together, some ideas being saved for other single tattoos. “So how do you like it so far sweetheart?” Sukuna asked as [ ] gave him an enthusiastic squeal, moving over the turned drawing desk as she fell forward to hug the tattooed covered man. Shocked by her random falling grasp he chuckled, catching her so she wouldn't hit her hip on the swerving table and half giving her a hug back as they laughed together. [ ] pulled back some as she started to notice more differences between the twins. Starting with Sukunas face ; it was more clear and sunkissed, small freckles adorned his cheeks from the sunshine. Unlike his twin, she noticed how more stocky and strong his body and face was compared to Yuuji. The twins were pretty much identical , except for how they acted, the fact that Sukuna had tattoos and the sometimes usual differences between twins, like style and other small discrepancies. Unlike the bright and colorful yet athletic look Yuuji had , Sukuna tended to be more of a dark artsy look, usually black clothes , ripped jeans , rings and chains. He tended to give off the usual bad boy vibes, someone who you wouldn't want your parents to meet.

But under his hard exterior he was very personable , just as sweet as his twin. As she was lost in her own thoughts , her hands pushing off his chest he snapped her back to reality, a finger going under her chin as he gave her a gentle smile , catching the girl in midthought of her tattooist “Aren't you something….what's on your mind [ ]” He rasped out as her eyes widened, realizing how close they were. From the standing mirror she could really see it ; one of her thighs was in between his spreaded ones, the other in his right arm. From her arms wrapped around his neck her face was close to his, the two of them slightly chest to chest. Her body felt hot as the male in front of her smirked, meeting her eyes in the mirror as he looked at the scene in front of him too. Eyeing her in the mirror he could imagine the work to be put atop her skin, and how pretty she'd be in his work, the thought gave him a sense of protectiveness and overall close bond with the girl he was around for more than he'd had before. Spending hours a day , almost everyday except his super packed days had gotten him a closer bond with her and even with his twin brother, the group of them and their other friends relaxing and enjoying time together. The little things that they all did together made him realize how much he enjoyed taking a break. And how much he'd fallen for his new client.

Coming from his own thoughts he pulled her right leg higher onto his lap, causing her to fall forward as she gasped, their faces impossibly closer. “Hm...youre pretty when youre flustered..” he said absentmindedly as he looked back to them in the mirror ,wrapping an arm around her waist as he gave her a sly smile, moving back into the chair he sat in “S-sukuna?” [ ] questioned as he hummed, sliding his eyes from the mirror to her questioning ones. Tracing the hand on his chest he rose a brow, a silent sign to continue. “I-I can get down. I'm sorry i was a little excited-” She continued as she started to move. With quick ease Sukuna kept her in place, rubbing the back of her thigh as he leaned in, pulling her closer by the backs of her thighs “I like you here. You don't have to move unless you're uncomfortable” He said as she ran a hand through his messy hair, sliding it to his cheek as he laid his head in it, kissing her palm. With the small caring action she squeaked , making the male chuckle “Am i...moving too fast” He said , his voice barely a whisper as he tightened his grasp on her waist, eyes searching hers.

“N-no i'm just...surprised?” She half questioned as he gave a knowing smile, shifting her weight to completely have her in his lap. With a high pitched squeal and giggles [ ] landed comfortably , her calves hanging off as her thighs tightened around his waist. “See, isn't this more comfortable?” He asked as she shyly hid in his neck, overwhelmed by his random acts of affection “Sukuna...are you trying to just make me embarrassed” She whined as he stroked her back, putting her face deeper in his neck “Mh..no not particularly..kinda just...thinking” He said as he pulled his phone out. Facing the mirror he took a silent picture, a smirk on his lips as he looked it over. her body was perfectly flushed with his , her arms around his neck as the tattoo down her side was more prominent in the picture. From the way it looked was just a couple taking a handsy photo but for Sukuna, it was a seal for how he felt. He wanted to take more pictures like this, but with them being together. Mirror selfies, clothes or even more explicit for his own gallery ; he loved the way they looked together. Noticing how quiet he was [ ] sat up looking at the male as he set his phone up facing the mirror before squishing her face “Everything okay?” She asked with a squished face as he laughed , releasing her cheeks “I love this..” He admitted as she gave him a wide eyed look , his warm ones looking away from hers

“I know..all of this could be seen as a very lewd way to admit my feelings but..honestly i'm used to just having women want me for free tattoos and well..yknow..my talents'' Sukuna said as he gave her a crooked smile, a laugh coming from [ ] as she understood what he meant, but the fact that he's admitting feelings for her made her heart flutter “S-so you like me?” She asked warily as he let out a light sigh, leaning up to put their faces close again “Hey [ ]...i know this is awkward and embarrassing...for me at least...but..may i kiss you?” He whispered over her lips as she silently shook her head, letting her eyes feel heavy as he got closer, rubbing their lips faintly together. As soon as she tighten her arms around his neck he pushed his record on his phone, sealing their lips together. As the two started to make out he tightened his hands around her waist, a low hum coming from his throat as he bit her bottom lip, sliding his tongue in. the more heated it got the more she whimpered, pulling her kiss plumped lips away from his. Groaning he chased her lips, crashing them against his as they started to kiss again. Letting her nimble fingers move up from his neck she tugged at his hair at the back of his nape, making the male growl as he rocked her closer to him, his larger arms wrapping over her waist.

Once again she whined and pulled away, putting her head against his “Sukuna...I..geez you-” trying to catch her breath he gave an airsh laugh. Ending his video. Catching him touch his phone [ ] reached for it “What did you do?” She asked as he held the phone above his head, watching them kiss again as he grinned “Oh nothing..just wanted my confession is all” He said as she gave him a look “[ ]..i really do like you...god i could say i'm almost in love…” “Almost?” She whispered as he kissed her lips again “More like i am but..i dunno how you feel about me” He said as she gave him a soft look, kissing his cheek “I love the time we've spent together, and well, if you'll have me i'll be yours” She responded. A wide smile on his face as he leaned back in to kiss her, the new couple giggling through the sessions as they finalized the rest, starting on the masterpiece they had crafted together.

Starting on her sleeve was one of the most enjoyable things she had done. Every few weeks to a month depending on the healing time she was adding her next piece. As she finished all of her linework it came to coloring her colorful bits. For the next few months again she finished it, all while spending time with her tattooist boyfriend and friends. As she was to the final stretch of heer coloring she knew valentines day was coming up more and more. Her and Sukuna had been dating for around a year now, just a few weeks shy of it. As she came to the shop she waved to the receptionist, giving him a smile “Hey Megs, how are you?” Megumi, the inky haired boy looked up from his journal and gave [ ] a rare smile, “Hey [ ]! I'm good ,how are you today? Sukunas is in the back if youre ready for him” He said as she gave him smile “That's good! I'm so excited my tattoo should be done just in time for valentines day! Speaking of, do you have an idea of your valentine this year?” She teased as he gave her a shy look “Ah...not particularly but maybe once it came i would” He said as she gave him a nod in understanding. Hearing his girlfriend talking Sukuna came out, a grin on his lips “Hey babe” He said as he gave her a kiss to her neck, causing Megumi to groan as she giggled “Cmon dont make him uncomfortable with your affection, lets go big boy” She joked as she took her strawberry blonde to his room “Ah okay babe let me see your arm” Sukuna started as she took of his jacket, revealing her sleeveless crop top and work of art on her left arm. Turning her arm some he looked over her lines and color deposits , making sure everything looked right. “Its coming along nicely [ ]..i just have this little pieces on your forearm and we'd be done with piece” He said happily as she gave him a soft smile “I love it...just as much as i love you” She said as he looked up from her arm , giving her a shy smile “I love you more [ ]”

Sukuna said as he leaned up, kissing her lips as he set up his inks and machine, snapping his gloves as he started to finish her last pieces. As the buzzing of the machine lulled her comfortingly she caught the determined and concentrated look on his face as he tattooed away “Where do you wanna go on valentine's day...hypothetically speaking” Sukuna asked randomly as she started to fill in lines. Blinking comically, she looked down at her boyfriend. “Anything youd come up with” She said as he hummed, finishing up the last color as he wiped it clean, starting to clean up the ink and smaller tears in her skin hidden by the fresh ink. “Princess...thank you for letting me be the one that did your art…” He said as he traced her hand , kissing her fingertips as he flashed her a smile. “I love you more Su..” [ ] whispered back as she leaned forward, kissing his forehead.

As the two sat there in his studio and talked [ ] drew up a heart with their names in it , giggling as she showed her boyfriend “Look babe!” She said as he stopped cleaning his desk, analyzing her work “I like it, a lot. You did a great job sizing wise, and i always loved your cursive” he said as he ran a finger over the art again “You said you wanted to get better at tattooing, right?” Sukuna asked as he still looked over the design “Yeah i did, what about it?” [ ] asked as he stretched , reaching over as he pulled out his darkest black ink and vibrant red. Soon he picked up two pairs of gloves and one of his various machines “Ill let you do this on me, and i can do it on you if youd like” He said as she gave him a happy screech, starting to make the transfers “Really Sukuna, youd let me do that?” She asked as he nodded, prepping an empty space on his arm “Ill help you, make sure its deep enough but i trust you, you did a good job with the smaller ones on yourself. Youre good sweetheart im here “ And thats what he says the whole time she tattoos him, her lines were straight but she felt like her red names were lacking. Tracing them again the darken, showing up beautifully as she focused, holding his skin apart as she smiled at her work, wiping the access ink and covering it in ointment like he did earlier “I did it!” She jumped happily as he gave a satisfied grin, looking at her energetic girlfriend. ‘I love her’ he thought to himself as he thought of what hed do for her in the coming weeks for the day filled of love

On valentines day [ ] was at home, talking to Nobara as she heard a knock on her door. Telling the girl she'd call back, [ ] started at the door and opened it, seeing a giant bouquet of flowers as she took them nicely from the delivery boy “Uhhh miss [ ] correct? The sender also wanted you to have this” The boy fumbled with a note, handing it to the girl as she thanked him , watching him leave as she let out a happy squeal, reading it.

‘Dollface, I hope you're ready for tonight, I have a lot in store for us tonight. How about you wear that cute little black dress you got last time we went to the mall hm? I'll be over at four-SKR”

Giggling at his note she looked at the time, noting it was 2:00, she went to the back, starting to get dressed as she was excited to see what her boyfriend had planned for them. She took the time to curl her hair, setting them as she worked on her makeup. After taking the time she saw it was around 3:45. She smiled as she got a text from him, saying he was on his way. As she happily ran around her apartment , trying to get rid of the jitters she had for the night planned with her boyfriend. Soon she heard a knock on the door. Skipping to the dor she opened it to her tall boyfriend leaning against the frame, looking down at his girlfriend “Hi darling” Sukuna said as she stood on her toes , giving him a peck against his lips as she giggled “Hi” She responded as he wrapped his arms around her waist , kissing the crook of her neck. “Missed you..” He whispered as she hummed, rocking with him as they stumbled into her living room, Sukuna shutting her door behind him as he picked her up. Laughing , [ ] held onto him, looking down to her well dressed partner. He was in a black vest, adorned with red decals and black pants. Despite him wearing nicer clothes it had the same grudge feel to it, ringed fingers and pierced ears filled with glistening metals very promedent in his attire. As she gave him a glance over from being held in his arms he rose a brow and placed her down, giving her an uncharacteristic shy look “Do i look alright?....tried something new since ill be taking you out” He asked as she kissed his cheek, giving him a content smile “I love it. You still have that edge I fell in love with laced through and through” [ ] said as Sukuna felt his heart jump, a warmth creeping up his neck and face as he kissed her face, taking her hand “Well then...i'm very thankful with a woman like you in my life...thank you [ ]..you ready to go?” Sukuna softly asked as he outstretched a hand to her, making [ ] playfully laugh. Taking her ringed at tattooed lovers hand the duo set off, starting their first Valentines Day together.

Once night rolled around most had been finished [ ] and Sukuna found themselves on a hilltop, overlooking a city as they ate a snack basket that Sukuna prepared. Not only was he a tattooist but he could cook, and cook very well. “If I didn't have the urge to tattoo every square inch of my body with art maybe i'd be a cook” He laughed as she constantly complimented his cooking, laying her head on his shoulders. “This is wonderful Sukuna..ive really enjoyed today” [ ] said as he gave her a look before peering back at the city “I know how much you hated today so...I wanted to do something for you to love it” Sukuna said as she moved up, looking in his warm eyes as he reached out of his pocket, his phone showing their first accidental mirror picture they took together evident as his lockscreen. As he pulled the next thing to it, a shiny ring filed with her birthstone “This is for you, a promise to you” Tilting her head she took the beautiful ring and placed it on her finger, watching it glisten in the moonlight “A promise for what?” she asked “Ill never leave you, and one day...maybe...we could make that promise permanent” He said as he took her hand in his , pulling her in his lap as he sealed that promise with a kiss.

[stiltonbasket]

Since wwx does die in the soulmate au, could we maybe see your take on the snow scene?

After Lan Xichen bids them farewell and heads back up the hill to the hanshi, Wei Wuxian takes his jar of Emperor’s Smile and seats himself on the porch, trying to come to terms with the day’s revelations as Lan Zhan goes back inside to play his guqin.

Since his return to the world of the living, Wei Wuxian’s nightmares have often dragged him back to that day at Qiongqi Dao. He will never forget the shock of seeing Jin Zixun and his men crest the edge of the cliff above him, or Lan Xichen’s fury when he spotted the twenty Lan cultivators with them. Nor will he forget that palest, faintest melody playing behind his, and how Wen Ning’s eyes went white and wild like a beast’s before he cracked Lan Xichen’s skull against the crumbling stone of the quarry and thrust a blade wrested from one of the Jin guards through Lan Zhan’s chest. And then Jin Zixuan was dead, and it happened so quickly that Wei Wuxian could scarcely comprehend what was going on: and by then, Lan Zhan was lifting his head to croak Wen Ning, take him away from here, don’t let them take Wei Ying--

Wei Wuxian died at the Nightless City believing that Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen were both either dying or dead, and that the family he rebuilt in the Burial Mounds had been murdered for his own crimes.

He could scarcely even bring himself to fight back before Jiang Yanli came running onto the battlefield, and threw herself in the path of a sword he had not cared to parry.

Jin Guangyao, he thinks hysterically, slopping half his wine down the front of his robes as he closes one shaking hand around his borrowed jade pass. If you were behind all this--if all these murders were yours, and even your own sworn brother’s didi--!

“Wei Ying?”

He turns around and forces a smile onto his face, toasting Lan Zhan with the jar of tianzi xiao. “Lan Zhan,” he greets. “It’s cold out here, isn’t it? You should go back inside.”

“My cultivation is higher,” his friend observes: once friend, and then zhiji, and ever so briefly his betrothed, before Wei Wuxian destroyed his yinhufu and let the backlash rip him to pieces. “You will fall ill. Come here.”

Lan Zhan unclasps his heavy outer robe and lays it over Wei Wuxian’s shoulders, and then he wraps his arms around Wei Wuxian’s waist like he used to do in the Burial Mounds, when they went to bed together with A-Yuan in their  arms and kissed each other to sleep, night after blissful night until the haven they built was ultimately stolen away from them.

“I remember hearing that second flute,” Lan Zhan says, pressing a kiss to his head. “When Wen Ning struck Xiongzhang down, the melody was almost identical to yours, but I still caught it. And when he turned upon me, I could never mistake that dizi for your Chenqing.”

Wei Wuxian nods. “That couldn’t have been Jin Guangyao, though,” he says dismally. “He would never have raised a hand against Zewu-jun. We’re still no closer to finding out who cursed Jin Zixun, or who played the second dizi in Qishan, or whom that ghost-faced man was.”

“Jin Guangyao has many allies, but I know of none he would trust to help conceal the murder of a fellow sect leader,” Lan Zhan agrees, with a slight frown between his eyes. “Perhaps we can ask Xiongzhang to draw up a list tomorrow.”

At the mention of Zewu-jun, Wei Wuxian straightens up. “That reminds me--how did your brother know that arm was Chifeng-zun’s? Is it because they were soulmates?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “He knew when you told him that it did not harm the juniors at Mo Manor, or even attempt to. After witnessing what it was capable of doing in the Mingshi, to the elders and to me, he had no reason to doubt who it was, or why it would spare the children and not the others of the Mo family.”

“Ah? Why’s that, then?”

“Fierce corpses can sense their own blood,” his friend reminds him, with a quiet sigh. “The arm did not move against the juniors because Jingyi and Sizhui were standing in front of them. And Jingyi was not present in the mingshi when we tried Evocation, so it had no reason to restrain itself.”

Wei Wuxian gapes at him.

“Chifeng-zun had a son?” he hisses, scandalized. “But everyone knew he was in love with your brother, so how could he have betrayed Zewu-jun and--”

“He did not,” Lan Zhan chides gently. “To Jingyi, I am shufu in private, though he calls me Hanguang-jun in company. But he was born far too late to ever meet his father.”

“Does he know?”

“En, he does. But it is widely believed that Jingyi was born after some secret marriage to a lady, or a dalliance, much like the rumors we put about regarding A-Yuan,” Lan Zhan’s fists clench a little. “The truth would have seemed too far-fetched to those who do not know Brother’s cultivation path, so he has never spoken on the matter save to acknowledge Jingyi as his.”

“What about Jin Guangyao?”

“He visited often during those six months after Chifeng-zun died,” his friend says bitterly, loosening his hold on Wei Wuxian as he stares into the snowy garden. “He knows the truth about my nephew’s birth well enough."

“You said Zewu-jun was more willing to believe us than you expected, Lan Zhan. About Lianfang-zun, I mean.”

Lan Zhan’s hair is half-white with snowflakes by now, so he stands still and lets Wei Wuxian sweep the snow away before he speaks again.

“It was all too strange,” he offers. “You remember that one of Jin Zixun’s men shot at us right when we entered the valley, but he fumbled his shot and struck my brother instead of me or you. When I woke up back in the Cloud Recesses, Chifeng-zun was raging about the Jin arrowhead the healers pulled out of Xiongzhang’s chest, and he would not answer the summons to the assembly at Nightless City--and more than that, he swore that any Lan cultivator who decided to go would meet a swift end upon Baxia, so neither the Nie nor the Lan took part in the siege at all. But even so, when there was undeniable proof that Jin Zixun’s actions had nearly brought about the death of the Lan sect leader and heir, the Jins called a rally against you, and brought all their vassal clans to Qishan so they could make war upon the Burial Mounds.”

“And then Jin Guangyao went anyway after I was dead,” Wei Wuxian sighs, rubbing his temples in a vain effort to brush away his growing headache. “And you were beaten for injuring the elders who tried to get you to surrender to him.”

His zhiji inclines his head. “Xiongzhang and Jin Guangyao are sworn brothers, but their bond does not go so deep as that. All Brother knew was that he honored my request to escort you to Lanling and came to accompany me, and that you had not ordered Wen Ning to attack us--and then, when he regained consciousness from his head wound, he found me lying beside him with my back torn to shreds and A-Yuan in my arms, and heard that the Wens had all been slaughtered. He has never trusted the Jin sect since, even if he did not suspect Lianfang-zun himself.”

They stand there together for a little while longer, reliving the sheer horror of that day--remembering Jin Zixuan dead at their feet, and Lan Xichen’s crumpled body painting the ground crimson with the blood pouring from his head, before Wen Ning picked up a golden jian and charged towards Lan Zhan.

“If I ever find the man who was playing the dizi at Qiongqi,” Wei Wuxian whispers at last, “I will not let him live long enough to regret it.”

Lan Zhan inclines his head and leads Wei Wuxian back into the jingshi.

“I know,” he says, as the doors slide shut behind them. “Neither will I.”

[x-avantgarde-x]

Of love and dancing- Levi Ackerman

Summary: after taking back wall Maria, you and the other members of the Survey Corps, attend a ball held on your behalf.

Warnings: none, apart from some modifications of the canon story. Mentions of Erwin/Character and pure fluff.

Song to listen to: As the world caves in by Matt Maltese.

I also had this image in mind while writing this image because Levi looks amazing.

I have to thank @starrynightlys for taking the time to read this! Go check her blog if you don’t know her guys, she’s amazing ♥️

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Pink silk gently framing her well defined curves, her curly brunette locks tamed down to perfection for the first time in years in the survey corps; red juicy lips and rosy cheeks, it all combined with a soft pearly eyeshadow framed your best friends snow white pale skin making her look like a goddess out of an ancient painting. The enticing smell of roses being adding a little something to the picture in front of your eyes.

You smiled sweetly at her, quite proud of your work after the many hours you had spent locked in your room making sure that your best friend looked her best for her ball tonight.

The night had been carefully planned out from weeks before. Since the very first time she had lightly told you about her infatuation with commander Erwin Smith you had made it your duty, as you always had, to ensure her happiness by helping her lure the man. You yourself had had a certain someone in mind, from the moment the event had been announced the image of a certain raven haired captain had done anything but to roam your every thoughts. You had intended on inviting him to attend the ball with you, but for the past weeks Captain Levi had been awfully busy and you hadn’t had a chance to properly talk with him, if only to exchange a few words when you crossed paths on the hallways or delivered him one of his many cups of tea, before he drowned himself back in paperwork.

“Are you done already?” You hear your friend Maria talking from outside the door, “We’re almost done!” You responded, before rushing to the other side of the room and grabbing both your purses. You walked back to Andrea, a reassuring look on your eyes. “Are you sure he will like this?” She asked, voice trembling gently from the butterflies inside her stomach, “Trust me, he will love it.” The words were simple, but the unspoken message hidden behind them was acknowledged by you both ‘He will love you’, that particular way you had had of communicating with each other without the need of words since you were merely kids coming in handy once more.

You were greeted with your friends Maria and Rocio, each of them respectively holding Jean’s and Connie’s arm, while Sasha happily waited for you leaning on the door. Maria shook her head jokingly while complaining “Took you long enough in there to get ready” to what Connie and Rocio agreed while Jean added with a smooth smile “But has it been worth the wait, though”. You all laughed at his comment while Maria crossed her arms, playing offended with her boyfriend as he tried to get her to forgive him.

Once in the castle, your eyes widened in fascination. It was the biggest, fanciest place you had ever stepped your foot at. You were pretty sure, by the look of Andrea’s face, that given her rich familiars she had been to places similar to this before, but given that the place most similar to this that you had ever gone to was the upper class restaurant at the end of your street back at wall Maria, and the fact that the establishment wasn’t comparable to the luxuries and the greatness of the palace left you speechless and feeling quite out of place.

At the end of the room you could hardly pick out Historia, now Queen Historia, from the thousands of people in the room. After successfully taking back wall Maria, and having properly mourned the fallen soldiers, she and her ministers had decided to hold a ball in order to commemorate the Survey Corps and its members. And you couldn’t be any more grateful to her for any of this.

Returning your attention back to the room, you saw Sasha make her way to the food tables as Jean and Maria and Connie and Rocio drifted off to the dance floor, getting lost in between the many couples swaying together, as you tried unsuccessfully to find both your superiors. Making your way through the room, holding hands with Andrea in order to not get lost, you walked along the room a few times failing miserably in your search. Dizzy and bothered by the many people in the room you both walked away to a quiet corner hidden in between a few columns, sitting in a forgotten table that had been placed there you took in the look of disappointment in your friend’s eyes, so in order to light up the mood you asked her “Would you like for me to go and pick up a few snacks and drinks before Sasha finishes with it all?” She nodded faintly as you stood up walking once more towards the buffet.

As you walked back to your table, plates in hand and two glasses filled to the brim with the most expensive wine you had ever tasted, you finally found the men you had been searching for hours ago, Squad leader Hange and them sitting all together in a table in one of the most crowded places of the room. Without losing a moment, and leaving your food behind, not before taking a last sip of your wine, you made your way towards them with steady steps. When you were close enough to their table you made your presence known with a gentle cough and a loud enough “Commander!”

As the tall blond turned to face you, you tried your best to ignore Levi’s piercing eyes looking directly at you. “Cadet (Y/L/N), what a pleasure to see you here. Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked you, but you didn’t fail to notice how he seemed to be searching for someone behind you. “Indeed I am, sir” you answered politely “but I wish I could say the same for my friend Andrea, over there” you added, pointing back at were your best friend sat, patiently waiting for your return “She has been awfully bored since we got her. But I’m pretty sure it’s not something a nice dance couldn’t solve”.

Erwin stood up from his chair almost immediately after your words, and you weren’t really sure that he had even heard your words as he walked away, a bright smile on his face. Hange laughed almost hysterically at the scene playing out before their eyes while you took the seat Erwin had occupied moments before, sitting right next to the man you had been dying to come to this same ball from long ago. You were about to speak, fearing to fall into an awkward silence, when you hear the captain’s smooth voice talking to you “I actually thought he wouldn’t end up asking her for a dance given how things were going. Though he probably hasn’t talked about anything else for the past few hours”, you chuckled in response, turning yourself back to face him.

Levi looked dashing, dressed in a pristine black suit and hair slicked back, giving him some sort of aristocracy air to his appearance. You could feel your heart skip a bit and once again you found yourself growing insecure about your appearance, asking yourself if the plain cream coloured dress and golden high-hills you had come with and your barely noticeable makeup were enough for the place you were at. “You... you look amazing, Captain” you told him, a sweet smile on your face, a faint blush appeared on his cheeks and ear “You look pretty too” he answered back, as if he could read your thoughts "and cut the formalities, tonight we are not in a mission" laughing at his comment you agreed with him, leaning back on your sit not without catching another glass of wine from one of the butlers trays. The next 30 minutes were spent in a comfortable silence, as you entertained yourself with watching your friends and their partners dance to the music, and enjoying your wine along the many decorations of the room. It was then that the music came to an end, the musicians getting ready to play a new symphony, that you finally got the chance you had been waiting for. “Levi...” you called for his attention making him turn back to you “ would you care for a dance?” He looked taken back by your question, his posture getting totally stiff and a disturbed look on his face “I’m sorry, I...” Levi spoke, voice low and trembling, as if he didn’t know how to phrase his next sentence “You...” you spoke back, trying to encourage him as you placed your right hand on top of his, which rested upon the table, and drawing small circles against his skin. He inhaled deeply and said in a rush “I don’t know how to dance”.

You weren’t able to stop a small chuckle from escaping from your lips, to what the man next to you reacted by straightening himself once more and trying to get off your touch. In an attempt to solve the situation you came closer to him, a sweet look on your face “Levi, it’s okay if you don’t know how to dance... follow me” a small smile took over his face, what made your heart skip a few beats at the sight, and his eyes glimmered in amusement as he nodded in agreement and extended one of his hands for you to take it. Doing so, you walked him out of the lounge to a small and solitary room you had spotted once you walked inside the palace, there you could still follow the music without getting swallowed by the mob of dancing couples and without worrying about judicious looks. Intertwining your fingers with his long ones, you placed his left hand upon your waist at the same time that he pulled your closer to he’s chest, a shiver traveling both your bodies making goosebumps appear because of the proximity. The song began and you started to move, almost gracefully, around the dance floor. In a moment of braveness, you decided to place your head against his chest, listening to the rapid rhythm of his heart against his rib cage; you breathed in deeply, his usual scent of tea leaves, old wood, and soap slightly masked by the scent of his cologne. As you continued dancing you could feel his body relaxing against yours, his steps becoming less unsure as you twirled around the place, your whole attention laid on one another.

Songs began and songs ended and there you spent the rest of the night, twirling around the room in your Captain’s arms, detached from the rest of the world that stayed behind a closed door.

[ssa-montgomery]

every night I'm dancing with your ghost

Word Count: 1781

Summary: JJ is still struggling with Emily's "death" and keeps having nightmares, Emily is there to comfort her.

Characters: JJ x Emily

Warnings: Angst, LOTS of angst, canon level violence, Emily's "death" scene, blood, hurt/comfort

A/N: I would like to start this by saying, I'm sorry. Another Criminal Minds request! I may have gone a little overboard with the angst with this one but this is where my mind went as soon as I read the request and I just had to write it. Feel free to send me some fluffy prompts to make up for this xD I hope you enjoy it either way!

Prompt: “You’re okay. Breathe. Just breathe. Open your eyes. Come back. it’s okay. It’s over now. You’re okay. Wake up. Please wake up. Don’t do this to me. I love you so fucking much. Come back.”

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

JJ broke away from the group following a faded map on the old warehouse wall down a corridor towards the opposite side of the building. She had entered with the rest of the team, following quickly behind the SWAT team that cleared the path in front of them but she was now only vaguely aware that there was anyone else in the building with her. Her mind was focused on one person and one person only. She wasn't even aware of her own actions as the fear took over every sense in her body. The sound of her footsteps echoing off the high walls and the hammering of her own heartbeat in her ears drowned out every other sound in the building. Her mind raced through every worst-case scenario and it felt like no matter how much she tried she couldn't slow down enough to draw a proper breath into her lungs. She skidded around a corner, grabbing at the wall to balance herself before she took the steps in front of her two at a time. She didn't flinch -not even taking a second to acknowledge it - as a sharp pain shot up from her ankle that she had landed on awkwardly when she hit the ground. Any pain was just something she could focus on after she'd found Emily. That was the one thing she was certain of, she needed to find Emily. Before it was already too late.

There was the sound of something heavy crashing to the ground at the end of the hall and without a seconds hesitation, JJ sprinted towards the noise. Her heart hammered against her ribs feeling like the pressure could break them at any second as she fought with the heavy metal door that led to the source of the sound. Finally, the door gave out under her weight and swung open. JJ stumbled inside and took in the room in front of her. She saw the source of the crash, a broken table that lay splintered on the floor. Then she stopped, everything finally catching up to her now that she had stopped running. The fear of the sight in front of her paralysing her.

"I need medical now! I need medical in the basement." She practically shouted into her earpiece as she rushed towards the shattered table. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real.

Emily was collapsed on the floor next to the wreckage her chest heaving as she grasped at her stomach. One of the splintered pieces of wood was pierced through her skin, her blood soaking through her shirt. As JJ got closer she could see that she was fighting to stay conscious, she wasn't sure if she even knew she was in the room with her. When she finally reached her side she dropped to her knees seeing now just how bad her injuries were.

"Hey Em, it's me. It's JJ." She said, choking back the tears that threatened to spill over. She tried her best to keep her voice steady to calm Emily and reassure her that she was there with her as she took her hand in hers lacing their fingers together.

"JJ." Emily smiled weakly, her voice was shaky and it was clear it was taking most of her energy to speak. JJ squeezed her hand tightly but when Emily tried to do the same she barely flexed her fingers. She was losing her strength too quickly. "It's too late JJ, let me go."

"No, no don't say that. Emily it's going to be okay. I've called for medics and they'll be here soon. The rest of the team knows where we are, okay? They're going to be here soon and you'll be okay." JJ nodded frantically, she didn't know who she was trying to convince, Emily or herself. She took her hand that had been resting against her side and cupped her cheek, stroking the skin. The blood on her hands left streaks on her face where her fingertips touched her skin. Emily turned her head into the palm of her hand and JJ could feel how shallow her breath was as it brushed against her skin.

"I love you JJ." Emily's voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper. JJ almost felt her lips against her palm more than she actually heard the words she was saying. She was struggling to keep her eyes open now and no matter what she tried she couldn't get her to stay focused on her anymore. JJ's hand closed around empty air and when she looked down she saw that Emily's hand had slipped from hers. When she looked back up to try and convince her to take her hand again her eyes were closed.

"Emily? Emily no, no, no! You're okay. Breathe. Just breathe. Open your eyes. Come back. It's okay. It's over now. You're okay. Wake up. Please wake up." JJ sobbed trying to hug her as best she could in this awkward position, pulling her body closer to her. "Don't do this to me. I love you so fucking much. Come back. Please come back to me, I'm so sorry Emily."

"JJ! JJ wake up it's me!"

JJ shot up straight, her hands grasping at the duvet underneath them as she snapped her eyes closed against the harsh, bright light flooding the room. She blinked trying to fight against the light burning her eyes and gather her surroundings. Her adrenaline from the fear was still coursing through her body making her recoil from the hand touching her arm. She was disoriented and it took her a few moments of trying to control her breathing to recognise the voice that was pleading with her to calm down, trying to reassure her.

"Emily?" She panted, her mind finally slowly enough to let her focus and register that it was Emily sitting on the bed next to her. Emily placed her hand back on her arm and once JJ was certain it was really her, that she was really here she surged forward and wrapped her arms around her as tightly as she could. "I was so scared, Emily I thought you were - I thought-"

JJ stumbled over her words growing frantic again as she tried to explain everything to Emily. She could feel her chest tightening and the only thing that was keeping her somewhat sane was Emily's arms around her. Emily pulled her closer against her chest and let her bury her face into the crook of her neck as she cried. She rubbed her shoulder in circles hoping the steady rhyme would start to calm as she gently shushed her. Once JJ's crying began to slow she pressed a kiss to her hair before pulling back to meet her gaze.

"You're safe now JJ, it's okay. It was just a dream." Emily promised wiping away the tears streaming down her face. She hated seeing her so upset like this and all she wanted to do was make her feel better.

"No Emily, that's the thing. It's not just a dream because it actually happened and I just keep reliving it." JJ choked out with a shake of her head. She turned away from Emily's gaze as she started to explain it. The nightmares had been getting better ever since Emily came home from Paris and it had been a while since she had one this bad. "I keep having that awful dream of you lying on that warehouse floor dying while there was nothing any of us could do to help you."

"But just remember how that situation ended JJ, I didn't die. I'm right here with you." Emily moved to sit next to JJ, forcing her to look her in the eyes again as she ran her fingers through her hair and pushed it off her face. "There was something you could do to save me from that situation and you did. You were there for me and you were the reason I survived all those months alone in Paris. You can't keep blaming yourself because the team didn't find me sooner, because you couldn't change how it played out. It's not fair to you."

"I just feel like there was something more I could have done, maybe if I had just gotten to Quantico sooner. Maybe if I'd found more information." JJ sighed bringing her knees up to her chest as she slipped back into that old habit of blaming herself for everything that happened.

"Oh sweetheart, no. Don't, don't do that to yourself. I made my decisions and I am the only one responsible for that. You did absolutely everything you could and I couldn't love you more for it." She reassured her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders again.

JJ nodded then, finally letting herself relax for the first time that night. She let Emily pull her into her side and melted at the contact breathing in the smell of her perfume to ground herself. Emily had always been a source of comfort for her and no matter what was happening she was there to help her through it, she always had been. She'd never loved someone as much as she loved Emily.

"Come on, let's get you back to bed. It's late. Do you want some tea to help you sleep?" Emily asked gently stroking her cheek - that she was sure was now red and puffy from all her crying - as she waited for a response. Her eyes were filled with a warmth that put JJ at ease when she stared into them.

"Yes please." JJ's voice was hoarse from screaming out Emily's name in her sleep, followed by the crying which she was sure didn't help. Emily nodded at her with a smile and untucked her from her side as she stood up from the bed. She turned to walk out of the room towards the kitchen but she felt something tug at her wrist. When she looked back over her shoulder she saw that JJ was holding onto her wrist, running her thumb over the back of her hand. "Thank you, Emily."

"Of course, that's what I'm here for. Always." Emily said leaning down to press a kiss to her lips before leaving to get her cup of tea.

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Songfic: Tonight my dear, the end of time. For Sylki week: Day 2: Song lyrics. @sylkiweek

Song: End of time by Lacuna Coil.

(Masterlist of my Sylki fanfiction can be found here.)

---

"You've built your life above the sin. You hold my hand before the end comes, Forgiving me, For what I've done 'till the end of days."

[[MORE]]

It's the end of the world. Or the end of this world, at least. He has left them stranded at this dying planet through a series of unfortunate accidents that could have been avoided if only he had been more careful.

Perhaps this is what he deserves for all the evil he has ever committed- the slaughter of innocents, some by his own hands, the destruction of New York- and everything he, or the version of him in the Sacred Timeline TM, is yet to do- including the events that lead to the death of his own mother.

Yes, this is a just punishment for his crimes, indeed.

There is a loud boom in the background that pulls him out of his contemplation and into the harsh present. Debris are falling across the purple sky, like leaves in autumn that have lost their right to leave. They fall into the ground in the distance, shattering houses and barren lands alike, and in the lake in front of them that has stilled, as if in terror. Sylvie sits motionless, the reflection of the death and destruction in her iris scaled down to a ridiculously miniscule size, as if it is insignificant.

She looks at him and offers him a tiny smile, and it is indeed insignificant, everything around them. The look in her eyes says something soft, something warm, like she sees him for who he is, like she sees his sharp edges and knows those are not the edges of a blade forged to kill, but that of a broken glass- beautiful in its entirety, but cruelly drawing out the blood of those who dare to break it.

If he believed in earthly religions, he would say the look in her eyes was like a message from Heaven, declaring the forgiveness of his sin, granted in his last moments.

She gently touches his arm.

---

"'Cause I belong to you, 'Cause I am part of you. I am dying in your arms. It's time to go, I can make it through"

He looks down at where her skin meets his. It's a simple, innocent touch, yet it speaks entire libraries worth of words in a language that he has never known before

She is very similar to him, but not an exact replica, like how a mirror flips one's silhouette and every single feature. She is similar enough for him to know what she feels, yet differs in her thoughts and actions.

Her grip grows tighter, and she reaches for his hand. She decides to fight, to change the fate of Lamentis-1, to use every bit of the magic in her to deflect the pieces of the moon, force in into a new trajectory, forge a new path for it. She intertwines their fingers until they are one, and the timelines that were forcefully bound into one start branching out again.

---

"I've come to realise, Tonight my dear The end of time Is not so far away. We cannot pray To save our lives"

They are Lokis. They survive. Even when they have no aces up their sleeves, they find the opportunity to steal one from the hands of the enemy. They are not giving up.

But in the silence of the elevator, the aura of defeat is prominent. They steal glances at each other, committing it to memory, so when the time comes to draw the last breath, it is not wasted on hatred.

There's a clenching in her stomach she cannot quite explain. It's different from her first time in his wretched prison. The fear and hatred is constant, but it is mixed with something that tastes like the salty teardrops shed during a farewell.

The collars on their necks are tight, the shackles on their hands without a key. The urge to pull a Houdini is strong, and they keep the hope that they might find a worthy assistant yet.

The door opens, revealing the path to the timekeepers, to the end of the road for them.

---

"I can feel you And I think that Everything you wanted in me Was the mirror of your dreams. But I couldn't believe what you'd say."

It has all been a lie. There never were any Timekeepers. She has done what she had set out to do, and all she has to show for is are the disembodied heads of the androids at her feet.

She doesn't know where to go from here.

He is standing in front of her, with his hands on her shoulders, his eyes on hers, his breathing uneven, leaving her heart dancing like an unruly tornado in her ribcage, making debris out of the walls she has built over the centuries.

She understands, at least a part of it. She feels it surging through her bloodstream too.

This is new for her as well, and dread accompanies the hope. Uncertain of what he would say, she stares at him, as the pruning stick finds its way into his core, and he starts fading right in front of her.

---

"As I belong to you, My flesh and blood in you. I am burning in this fire. It's time to go, I can't make it through"

She understands it fully now. While the timelines found a way to split into two, giving rise to two Lokis, they also found a way to tangle them together with this bond between them, unite them into one.

She has one good memory- the memory of him serenading her on the doomed train in Lamentis-1. When she sings, she sings "Come home".

Neither of them have a world they can call home anymore, or a place in the timelines. But her mother always told her "Home is where the heart is", and she finally knows where their hearts are.

She is going to bring him home.

Sylvie prunes herself.

---

"I'm coming home again And now I know where I belong. Reeling from my instincts 'Cause I realize I'm not alone"

She has lived in apocalypses, watched people go on with their lives unaware of the danger that would soon befall them, watched them cower together in fear as they pray for a miracle, and watched them fight each other in the vain hope of finding a safe passage out of death's jaws.

This world has no such sight.

This world is empty, dead, cold. She is all alone as far as her eyes allow her to see, the sense of loneliness amplified by the lack of her variant by her side. Something roars in the distance, something purple and dangerous and grander than she is. This is its home, its hunting ground, and she is his prey.

So is he.

She is determined to find him, to save him, to make sure neither of them is alone anymore.

---

"I've come to realise, Tonight my dear The end of time Is not so far away. We cannot pray To save our lives"

She pulls the flimsy green blanket closer, like it can shield her from the dangers around. She used to camp out in Roxxcart with stolen electronic devices and watch movies from various eras. She has seen many scenes where the hero and the heroine have a little picnic in a garden, lying on a blanket under the blue skies, feasting on delicacies.

The sky is far from blue, the patch of grass barely resembles a garden, the blanket thin, and the lack of food apparent by the growing pang of hunger in her stomach.

But the feeling in her chest is the one she imagines the heroine experiences when her hero presents her with a flower as a token of his affection.

Flowers wither and die. She has never adorned her hair with floral crowns, choosing metals instead. She prefers things which are strong, lasting.

She prefers everything he is. She prefers the daggers he conjures for her, to be used in this upcoming battle.

They are at the end of time, having run out of it. She is determined to protect him at all costs, but there's a high probability that one or both of them may not make it out of this alive.

Yet, as the end approaches, all she can think of is the possibility of a new beginning.

---

"I've come to realise, Tonight my friend The end of time It's not so far away. We cannot pray To save our lives"

The purple cloud turns green. Alioth the devourer is tamed, their magical collar wrapped tightly around its neck.

The cloud parts, making the citadel visible.

This is it. They are about to confront The one at the end of time, the puppet master.

Loki's grip on Sylvie's hand tightens.

It's time to cut the strings.