#in wanting to discover someone in asking questions in searching for answers

[digitald0rk]

TEAR YOU APART

pairing : sinister! mark grayson x afab! florist reader.

synopsis : in which mark discovers your dirty little secret and decides to help you recreate it in real time.

(18+) warnings : kidnapping. nasty petty perv mark. allusions to cannibalism. mention of kinda gory violence. hair pulling. biting. mean name calling duh. giving each other head. p in v unprotected sex. creampies. marathon sex as in multiple orgasms. squirting. overstimulation . . . ++ just really nasty smut lol [ all consentual though! you two are freaks like in capital FREAKS ]

w.c : 5.5k.

notes : erm. yeah idk what possessed me to write this but lemme know what you think ! it's my first time writing smut this long and detailed [ my search history is crazy rn lol ]. let's just say this takes place in sinister mark's universe before he starts acting like a murder machine and all, so yeah :] again interactions are always appreciated, also do let me know if you think there's any warning i should add!

taglist : @vm4879bb-blog [ for the others, i wasn't sure if you guys would be okay being tagged in a fic like this so i didn't, let me know if you wanna be added tho :p ]

now on ao3 too!

he's going to kill something, or someone.

“oh yeah this? my boyfriend got it for me!”

he hears you talk about him, your lover, everyday and it annoys him deeply, the subtle furrow of his eyebrows barely noticeable but definitely there — sometimes a twitch of his eye, clear cracks in his carefully constructed facade give away his irritation if you choose to look closely.

“that reminds me, this one time he-”

he loves that pretty voice of yours — dare he say, he's grown fond of it, but he wants to shut you up forever whenever your boyfriend's name leaves your lips.

mark wants his name to be on your tongue — to be said with the same love and fondness that accompanies the name of your lover.

he tried, he really did, to give you signs — a squeeze of your hand there, a stare that can practically undress you on its own. but it seems you're oblivious to it all, or you're playing hard to get, either way his patience is running thin.

he'll get what he wants. just you wait.

every time he visits your little shop, it smells like flowers mixed with your perfume, that sweet and sugary scent with just a hint of citrus — he had asked you about the perfume you wore during his third visit, bought it the same day so he could finally get off because his imagination wasn't enough at this point, that kept him somewhat satisfied for a bit, but it wasn't nearly enough.

so when he stopped by next time, not even buying flowers to play along with whatever this is, he asked you, “where do you buy your clothes?”

you blink a couple times, clearly taken aback back by the sudden question but nonetheless, answer him — although you're not quite sure what to make of his disheveled hair and blown out pupils.

here he is, acting like a feral dog in heat, buying anything and everything that he can at the shops you frequent that resembles your clothes. and when he's back at home, he's spraying them with the perfume you always wear, rutting like a madman into the mattress as he mouths at a pink shirt — the same one you own and the one you were wearing when he first saw you, his drool leaking and staining the shirt as he holds it close to his mouth and closing his eyes, your scent surrounding him as he suckles on the chest area of the shirt, imagining it's your chest instead which has him groaning and cumming in his pants. that keeps him going for another week or so.

next thing he knows, he's acting on pure instinct and his desires — snapping photos of your panties underneath your little skirts like a fucking pervert, looking them up online so he could order them and make a mess of them. and he does, he stains each and everyone of those panties with his hot, thick cum and sometimes his spit when he imagines eating your pretty pussy out. his desires however continue to only grow.

he visits your little shop, like he always does, mentally preparing himself to not grab your throat and shove you down to make you shut up if he hears about your stupid boyfriend again.

he's being nice, can't you see? you should be thankful.

mark sees a new ring on your finger, the small silver zircon on it shining underneath the sunlight, he wonders if it's another gift from your boyfriend.

the thought leaves a bitter taste behind, regardless, he maintains his usual aloof facade, waiting for you to finish wrapping up his bouquet that he's going to end up tossing away the next day — just like the other flowers he's bought from you, they don't compare to you or your beauty, he wants you, a flower that won't rot away once he's done playing with it.

surprisingly, you don't mention the name of a certain man who he wants dead and buried six feet deep but he doesn't comment on it, in fact, a small barely imperceptible smile tugs at his lips.

he's just about to leave your little flower heaven when he hears something that makes his heart, uncharacteristically skip a beat.

“yeah i heard, i’m so sorry,” a voice, which he recognizes as your friend speaks softly, sympathetically.

“yeah, i don't know what i was thinking,” you start, “the signs were there, i just never thought he'd cheat like that,” you blink away the forming tears, “i trusted him.”

he stops dead in his tracks. that bastard cheated on you? he'll make him pay for being the reason you cry, although your tears do make his cock twitch in his pants. he'll lick them off of your face if you let him, god he really wants to.

should he simply keep your boyfriend to torture? he's sure he could lure you in with it, after all you are way too sweet for your own good.

he'll slowly tear each of his limbs apart, making sure the man hears his bones cracking and skin ripping, he'll make that fucker bleed to death. hell, he'd even record those painful, agonizing sounds that your ex would cry out, he's sure you'd cry more if he lets you hear them, maybe he just wants to see you cry — though he's sure you'll do that when you choke on his cock.

he snaps out of his little fantasy when the bell rings, indicating the opening of the door — another customer in, he sighs. he's losing it, he's not sure how much he can withstand not having you with him. but he's trying, for you.

for the sweetest girl who he can't wait to devour.

with his restraint hanging on by a thread, he steps out of your shop, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists by his sides. he needs to have you.

and that restraint finally snaps the next day when he discovers that his favorite florist is a fucking freak.

as you're tending to customers — clearly overwhelmed by their number as valentine’s day is approaching and flowers are definitely a safe option for your partner, his eyes stay locked on your laptop's screen that you had put on one of the small tables, lid only half closed, his eyes frantically scan over some of the words as he fully opens the screen, trying to stay out of your vision.

he quickly decides to go somewhere where there aren't so many people so he could take a look inside his sweet girl's sick mind. and with that he skillfully slips outside — he feels awfully excited, sneaking into the small bathroom of some shop.

and with each click of the cursor and another tab opening, he learns your most depraved, disgusting fantasies — the kind of porn you're into, your kinks and fetishes, the smut you read, all of it.

he even stumbles upon a small blog you run, oh now we're talking. each lewd image or post you've reblogged, followed by some words of “wish that was me rn”, has him hard. and these date back before your break up, meaning your boyfriend was definitely not keeping you satisfied and that has him grinning like a maniac.

oh he'll give you what you want.

he shamelessly palms himself when he finds your dairy entry with his name, rambling about how you feel guilty fantasizing about him ruining you. he would've cum right then and there if it weren't for the knocking on the door, “hey man, you mind hurrying it up?”

oh right he's still in a bathroom and not in you, like he should be.

he manages to sneak your laptop back in, thanking the absurd amount of customers mentally which helped him go in and out without raising suspicion.

he can't take it anymore, it's only been a couple hours since he's discovered your filthy secret and also saw you tearing up earlier because of that asshole who broke your heart.

he knows he's a hypocrite — he doesn't care for your dumb feelings and your big heart, okay well maybe that's a lie.

it is a lie.

and there are definitely these feelings that he refuses to acknowledge but still, the only reason why you should be crying is because of him fucking your brains out.

and so he waits, like a predator waiting to pounce — he holds his breath, watching as the sun sets and you lock up your shop, ready to go home and get some sleep but your plans are interrupted as a hand sneaks up behind you with some sort of cloth, muffling your panicked noises and before you know it you're knocked out.

it takes you hours to gain your consciousness back, eyes all heavy and mind disoriented you blink, once. then twice, your eyes widen and your mouth suddenly feels too dry. you're all tied up to a cold hard metal chair, you're only in your bra and panties, the rope is too tight, it's constricting and will definitely leave behind angry marks on your skin.

standing before you is one of your regular customers, mark. you stare at him, dumbfounded — eyes darting around to look for an escape okay to see a single door, desk and some chairs, panic settles in your bones, the coldness of the room does nothing to soothe your nerves.

you mindlessly try to shift around, a desperate attempt that leaves you wincing in pain — the friction of the thick black rope burning against your skin.

you try to speak, but nothing comes out, only a small choked sob — looking at him with those wide eyes which are brimming with tears that are oh so close to spilling and staining your cheeks, you look utterly helpless. the sight alone makes him excited.

he takes a deep breath, he wants to take his time with you, savor you. but goddamnit, if you keep looking at him like that he's sure he'll end up doing the opposite of that.

“open your mouth,” he commands, leaving no room for argument and you hate the way it sends a shiver down your spine and a throb to your core. 

you hesitantly open your mouth, with his back turned to you — doing god knows what, you try screaming for help, it is a weak attempt that makes him chuckle, “no one's going to hear you sweetheart,” he coos mockingly, “i suggest you play along if you wish to live.”

he's not joking, his voice makes it clear. 

so you reluctantly keep your mouth opened, hot tears falling down — lucky for you, he's being nice, at least for now because he brings a glass of water, holding your jaw and pouring the water in your mouth, some of it spills, the coldness of it on your bare skin making you shiver — but you swallow all he gives hastily, hoping it really is just water.

you sputter a bit of the water out onto him in surprise when he licks a stream of you tears away, his tongue hot against your skin and his spit leaving a shiny trail on your cheek. scared, that he'll hurt you because of what you've just done, you close your eyes shut as if the mere action would actually rewind back time and do something for you.

he laughs, loudly.

god, you're adorable. he could just eat you up.

“are you scared of me?” he asks, knowing damn well it's a pointless question but the genuine fear in your eyes has him reeling with joy and a desire only you, his sweetheart, can fulfill.

he puts the now empty glass of water back on a small table, “you know, you look real pretty like this,” he starts, dragging a chair to sit across you, “but i bet you'd look real pretty without anything on.”

you don't answer, you don't know how to. your eyes are still looking around the big room for any exits, any openings — he smiles at your desperation, it's cute really.

“or maybe you'd look even prettier with some blood on you hm?” his tone although amused is firm enough to leave you unsure if he's being serious or not, he drags a finger across your belly, “what if i make a cut right here?”

you immediately shake your head, trying to speak but he shuts you up by pinching one of your hard nipples through your bra, your protests die down into a small whimper �� the sound has him grinning from ear to ear.

his eyes glint with something sinister that has you both scared and turned on. “i know you want this slut,” he holds your jaw harshly.

shame settles in your bones as you realize he's right.

“don't play coy sweet girl i saw all of it,” when you give him a confused look, he continues, “that little blog of yours, that disgusting shit you're into.”

oh fuck.

he sees the look of absolute horror mixed with embarrassment on your face and he tuts like he's disappointed, “dirty girl,” like he isn't the one who literally kidnapped you here.

“i don't know what you're talking about,” you both know you're lying, but sure he'll play along if that's what you want — he's feeling good today.

he reaches for your bag and rips it open — a clear display of who's still in charge here and how he definitely could kill you in an instant.

mark opens your laptop and asks you the password. you don't tell him at first as if that would change anything.

“i asked you a simple question,” he walks closer to you, grips your shoulder hard enough to make you regret your words, “or do i need to rip something else for you to answer me hm?” his grip tightens and you know he's not playing around, your voice shakes as you give him the four number pin, breathing heavily when he lets go of his hard bruising grip on your shoulder.

“good girl,” fuck him, he's doing this on purpose now! and the smug look on his face only confirms your suspicions.

he shows you the deepest, filthiest fantasies of yours that you keep tucked in your laptop, away from the world.

“what's wrong? don't pretend you're not dripping wet right now.”

again, he's not wrong.

“why are you doing this?” you ask him, still struggling a bit against the ropes that bind you.

“i wanna give you what you want,” he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. he also wants to make you forget about your ex boyfriend, but he's not admitting that, jealousy is a weakness. and one that he suffers from immensely.

“you what-”

“drop the act,” he huffs, irritation visible in the way his eyebrows furrow. “just admit it already. you're a sick disgusting pervert who goes prancing around like she's not thinking of having her holes filled,” he tugs at your hair to keep your head up, his eyes dark with lust boring right into yours.

“are you crazy? you fucking kidnapped-”

he cuts you off again, “so you don't want this?”

silence.

“i’ll untie you right now and let you leave, just tell me you want to leave.”

silence, again.

you're not fooling anybody.

“yeah that's what i thought,” he let's go of your hair, “the safe word is-” he mutters your ex’s name and before you can even comment on the sheer absurdity of it all, he's ripping your panties away from your throbbing pussy, groaning at the sight of your glistening wet folds, all needy just for him.

he quickly pockets the ripped panties. pervert.

“look at this needy cunt, all for me hm?” he muses aloud, spreading your legs apart and breaking apart the ropes that tried to interfere with his ministrations. he shakily inhales when he sees your arousal slowly spill out — you're so fucking wet. his heated gaze leaving goosebumps on your skin.

he presses a chaste kiss to your folds, practically salivating as he breathes you in — he's gonna end up cumming in his pants, he's dreamt of this exact moment for so long.

he gathers a considerable amount of saliva in his mouth before spitting it onto your neglected cunt which twitches at the action, the sight is downright filthy and it makes you moan.

he wastes no time — getting on his knees, licking a strip up your slit before devouring your pussy like a man starved for days, shamelessly rutting into the chair you're sitting on at your taste. you taste so good, he wants to drown in it.

he's messy and loud, your hands are still tied behind your back so you can't push his head away and grip his hair when he attacks your clit with his tongue, sucking on it relentlessly. your hips lift up and buck into his face, your noises only getting louder as he fucks his tongue into your warm wet hole. he moans at the feeling of your thighs squeezing around his head and nearly suffocating him — your walls clenching around his tongue as you cry out his name in utter pleasure.

he shoves two of his thick fingers in without any warning — a surprised small squeal leaving your lips, while his tongue works in torturous circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves and eagerly licking between your folds. your pretty whimpers are music to his ears.

clearly overwhelmed with pleasure, you make a pathetic attempt to squirm away from his touch, which earns you a harsh smack to your thigh followed by a bite — his teeth dig into your flesh, leaving behind bruising marks that will sting for days, the line between pain and pleasure blurring.

a familiar feeling settles in your belly, it only builds up as he continues to go down on you. “mark! mark! i'm i’m-” you try warning him, but his fingers only speed up, he sucks harshly on your clit, holding your hips down when you cum — your body shaking, crying out his name oh so sweetly, he wants to hear it again and again, until the only word you know is his name.

he doesn't pull away from your cunt though, drinking up every bit of your release and arousal that you offer — holding you down and forcing you to submit to the relentless pleasure he's giving you, moaning into your pussy like he's having the best meal of his life.

he doesn't let you rest, inserting another finger in — easily massaging that sweet spot that you can't reach as easily as he does.

“oh fuck!” you whine out loud, when he keeps overstimulating your poor pussy, the squelching wet noises only increasing as he eats you out. he loves the way your brain is turning to mush, mindlessly babbling his name along with your sweet noises.

and when you cum again, he still doesn't stop. 

you've lost count of how many orgasms you've had at this point, body too sensitive and shaking almost like a leaf.

with eyes brimming with seemingly never ending tears, vision practically blurry from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, it doesn't take him long to bring you to the edge again — except this time you end up squirting all over his pretty face, a surprised noise leaves your mouth as your body jolts hardly.

he finally pulls away. a small moan leaves your lips as you take in the sight in front of you.

mark grayson, on his knees, face all wet and drenched in your juices and his spit, breathing heavily — looking at you like he's going to eat you alive.

he's breathing really heavily, your dazed state makes it hard for you to comprehend things but you can clearly see the big wet spot on his pants. he came — from just eating you out.

“messy fucking slut,” he spanks your already oversensitive pussy making you hiss and cry out, body still quivering and twitching from that intense release.

he pushes your legs apart again, spreading your pussy open for him to see, he mutters a curse under his breath as he sees remnants of your release clinging onto the sensitive skin. he needs to get up before he ends up eating you out — as much as he would love to do that, he can't wait much longer, he needs to be buried inside that sweet cunt of yours and make you see stars.

he gets up from his knees. grabbing your hair, mark makes you lick his face clean, you taste yourself on his face and feel yourself getting worked up again. “good fucking girl, gonna put that mouth to better use, just you wait,” his hand reaches down to pinch your clit, laughing when you let out a small pained noise.

he hastily tears away your bra, the fabric discarded somewhere on the cold floor. he pinches and lightly grazes his nails against the perked up sensitive buds, making you squirm and let out small whimpers — it stings, but it also gets you insanely wet.

“look at that, pretty pussy’s practically begging to be fucked,” he bites down on your shoulder, a pained groan escapes your mouth and he bites harder, pulling away to admire the mark his teeth left.

you barely have time to look at the new addition of marks he's left on your body so far, before he's untying your hands behind your back, taking your wrists into his and pulling you down. you stumble a bit at the harsh tug — legs practically jelly from all those orgasms.

he draws you closer by your arms, manhandling you easily so you're sitting in between his open legs — the cold floor against your warm body.

“take it off,” he commands, gesturing to his pants. you hesitantly take them off, his ruined boxers coming into vision.

he's an impatient man, he always gets what he wants.

mark grabs a fistful of your hair and forces your head down onto his clothed — aching cock, making his impatience very clear.

“dumb bitch, can't do anything herself,” his tone demeaning, shutting up your protests by shoving his thumb in your mouth. he lifts his hips up to finally free himself of his boxers, his cock standing up — bobbing and leaking with pre. you gulp, eyes flitting back over to his face.

he lets out a small moan as you gather some of your saliva to spit on his hard cock, licking teasingly up his length over one of his prominent veins.

“don't be a fucking tease,” he takes ahold of your jaw harshly, tugging your tongue out before you can close your mouth — that he can't wait to be in and spits on your tongue, making you swallow it, before shoving you back a bit.

he pushes your hair out of your face so he could watch you better, the gesture so sweet and gentle — it makes you almost forget how mean he's been.

you slowly start pushing his length into your mouth, “thaaat's right, take it like the good slut you are,” his words die down into a groan as he feels your tongue swirl around his sensitive tip.

he's being nice for once, letting you take your time, your head bobs up and down as you suck him off while your hands jerk the rest of his cock that you can't fit in your mouth, tongue working against his sensitive spots.

but your mouth feels so good, so warm, so wet — his hips jerk up involuntarily, making you gag and tear up at the burn you feel at the back of your throat.

you look so pretty like this, those pretty lips wrapped around his cock, eyes glassy — don't blame him for wanting to ruin you when you look like that.

he pulls himself out of your mouth slightly — just to make sure he doesn't end up cumming too soon, before shoving himself back in, moaning in pleasure at the sensations he feels. you keep sucking, forcing all of him in your mouth, almost choking on his cock, some drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, but it's worth it — worth those small whimpers and grunts he lets out, ones he can't hold back because of how good he feels right now, all because of you.

and when your hand reaches down to lightly toy with his balls, cupping them, he shivers and lets out a low moan of your name, without a proper warning his cock twitches in your mouth and he cums, hard — flooding your mouth with his thick salty release.

you try to swallow as much as you can but it's too much, however, mark being the fucking asshole he is, forces your head back down on his twitching cock and pinches your nose shut making it hard to breathe.

he breaks into a full blown laugh. oh how he loves the way your eyes water up — that panicked expression on your face as you struggle to breathe, some of his cum leaking out your pretty mouth, squirming and still trying to push him away. it only turns him on more, “it's rude to talk with your mouthful,” he quips, holding your gaze.

he lets you go finally and you pull him out of your mouth quickly, throat already feeling sore — you cough, wiping away his cum and your spit from your face with the back of your hand.

“you should've seen the look on your face,” he chuckles darkly — clearly pleased with himself, shifting closer to you to pin you down, wasting no time shoving his tongue in your mouth, messily kissing you. he lets you pull off his shirt, his hips buck a little when you start feeling him up.

he can taste himself on your tongue and god that only adds to his growing arousal.

he pulls away a little so he can start biting and sucking down your neck, his other hand sneaking down to tease your pussy — tracing circles onto your clit, he grinds against you, “gonna fucking ruin you for everyone else,” he bites your earlobe, tugging on it, his fingers moving to tease your other hole, “gonna make sure this fucking pussy is always full of me,” he slaps your pussy, making you cry out his name.

he quickly aligns himself with your wet entrance, taking a deep breath before nudging his tip in — shoving it all in one go, making you tremble in both pain and pleasure that'll build over time, “come on i know you can take it, isn't this what you wanted?” he coos mockingly, pressing sloppy wet kisses to your face, licking your face like some fucking dog, leaving your face covered in his spit.

as soon as your muscles relax the tiniest bit he's thrusting in and out of you like a madman — you yelp loudly, holding onto him for dear life, nails digging into his back.

“fuck- oh my god!”

the only sounds in the room are the fast wet sounds of him thrusting into you, your pussy squelching loudly at the action and your combined moans and whines.

your gummy walls clench around him harder with each thrust, his cock hitting that sweet spot so well it has you seeing stars, all you can think about is him.

��oh fuck,” he grunts into your ear when he feels you tighten around him, gripping him like a vice, “think she needs to be filled all nice and warm with my cum, don't you agree baby?” he accentuates each word with a harsh thrust, relishing the way your body writhes under him.

you nod mindlessly, desperate for that sweet release more than anything.

“aww what's wrong?” he leans down to suck on one of your nipples, pinching and toying with the other one — a choked out sob leaves your lips, you feel tears pooling in your eyes, you clench around him even harder, desperate to milk him for all he's worth. he lets out a whine when he sees the outline of his cock in your belly going in and out, fuck he's going to cum.

the movement his hips falter at the feeling of your pussy gripping him tightly, “oh fuck,” he breathes heavily, muscles tensing up a bit. he pulls out, moving you on your stomach, giving your ass an appreciative spank when you arch your back for him.

“guess she answered for you hm?”, he muses — pumping himself a few times before settling back into your warm needy cunt, “fucked too dumb to answer but can still arch your back like a needy whore? you're so fucking pathetic,” he licks over the opening of your little hole, an arm coming around to hold you in a headlock that has your vision blurry — in the best way possible. getting impatient, you try to fuck yourself back onto his length but he doesn't let you.

“nasty girl, i can feel you clenching around me” spank “you like it when i’m being mean hm?” spank “oh right you can't answer,” spank “not a thought behind those pretty eyes hm?” spank “don't worry, you don't have to think at all, you wouldn't have to, when i’m done with you.”

he starts rutting into you again, his filthy mouth doesn't stop as he dicks you down like his life depends on it. his arm around your neck — squeezing, leaving you dizzy as he pounds into you from behind like he's in heat, you've given up on trying to control your noises. he sneaks a hand down to pinch and toy with your clit — making your walls clench and toes curl and you cum for the nth time with almost a scream of his name, your body shakes vigorously as a result of your intense orgasm.

it doesn't take long for him to cum as well, especially with you screaming his name like that. with a few more sloppy thrusts he fills you up with his warm sticky white release, head thrown back as a soft whimper of your name is uttered out of his mouth.

breathing heavily, he makes sure to not waste a single drop — once again buries himself as deep as he can, admiring all the various marks that he has littered your skin with.

he pulls out after awhile, keeping your thighs apart with his rough calloused hands so he can see the sight of his cum mixed with yours leak out of your hole, shit, he's getting hard again.

he's honestly not sure if you can keep up — he doesn't want to end up hurting you- well you're his toy, nothing more than that he doesn't care if he hurts you, he really doesn't.

he wants to break you, ruin you. yeah, that's it.

his eyes definitely do not soften the slightest bit as he takes in your disheveled state, back still arched prettily for him, your ass red from all his spanking, skin battered with various marks, a proof of the intense passionate sex you two had.

but when you crane your head back, looking at him, “I can take it,” you're still trying to catch your breath, wincing a bit as you shift your body around, “give it to me mark,” you sound so sweet — swaying your hips side to side to make him give in and fill you up again.

you want him to break you.

and he does just that.

again and again, until he's sure your cunt remembers each vein and curve of his cock, stuffing your hole full to the brim each time.

so when your body finally gives out — almost passing out after another orgasm that he pulls out from you, lying on top of the only desk in the room as he drills into your cunt, he stops. pulling out and painting your tits with his release with a loud groan, his hair is sticking up in all different directions from the way you've kept pulling on it, body coated in a sheen layer of sweat — shaking as his chest heaves unevenly with each breath he takes just like yours.

he watches as your eyes close shut and you drift into a light slumber after a few minutes. his heart beating weirdly in an erratic manner, he chalks it up to the sex, although he has to admit he finds your sleepy face quite adorable, he may or may not want to hear that giggle again — the one you let out when he ended up cumming a little too fast when you praised him.

but he'll think about that when his face is not buried between your thighs, tongue sinking back into your folds — he can't get enough of you.

and with the way you whimper loudly, tugging on his hair oh so eagerly.

it seems like you can't get enough of him either.

so he'll indulge you to your heart’s content — maybe he'll save that video of him torturing your ex boyfriend and leaving him to die in a ditch for some other day.

© digitald0rk 2025. do not steal, repost or translate any of my work. want more? click here ★

[aspenmissing]

hiiiii hii hi hi ummm could you do jinx (anyone, but mainly jinx pls) with a reader just as clingy as her? not so much chaotic as her but they both always share that “pls don’t leave me” energy and bond over it, idk do whatever u want ofc, thank you !!

ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ? || 5226 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ? ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ (ᴏɴ ʏ/ɴ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏᴏᴏ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ʜᴇʟʟᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏ, ᴍʏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ! ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ!! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx

JINX

The moment Jinx first laid eyes on you, something shifted inside her—a subtle spark that said you were different. Not in the “I can fix you” kind of way—she never wanted to be fixed—but in a way that quietly filled the emptiness, like discovering a mirror that reflected more than just her own loneliness.

It wasn’t long before you realized that the connection was mutual. You found yourself drawn to her erratic energy and vulnerability, clinging to her as fiercely as she clung to you. In your shared silences, in the unspoken assurances between hesitant touches, you both found a solace that the chaotic world around you never provided.

One chilly evening atop a worn rooftop in Zaun—where the city’s harsh neon glow danced against the dark sky—Jinx broke the silence. With her legs dangling over the edge, she mused, “Y’know, most people get all weird about this whole attachment thing.” Her eyes, alight with mischief and a hint of fear, searched yours for understanding.

You settled beside her on the crumbling ledge, drawing your knees close and resting your head lightly against her shoulder. “Like we care what most people think,” you replied, your voice soft but resolute.

A crooked smile spread across her face as she nudged your forehead with hers. “Exactly! That’s what I like about ya.” There was a quiet intimacy in that moment—a shared defiance against a world that always seemed intent on leaving you both behind.

For both of you, the bond was born of the same desperate energy: the need for someone to anchor you when everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. You never thought she was too much, even on nights when she clung to you after a terror-filled dream, or when she demanded you stay close while she lost herself tinkering with unpredictable explosives. And in return, she never questioned the way you’d reach for her hand when the uncertainty of life in Zaun grew overwhelming, or how you always made sure to be by her side when the world fell into a heavy, uneasy quiet.

Some might call this attachment unhealthy, but you both knew it was more—a lifeline amid chaos. Because in a city where every moment was a struggle to hold on, you only ever wanted one thing: to never be alone.

=

Then, one night as rain slicked the metal and concrete around you, she asked, almost in a whisper, “Where are you gonna go?” Her fingers toyed with one of her cherished bullets—a ritual of sorts whenever fear crept in.

“What do you mean?” you asked, genuine curiosity mingling with concern.

She paused, her eyes reflecting the harsh blue lights of Zaun. “Y’know… if everything goes to shit. If Zaun burns, if Piltover clamps down even harder, if—if everything falls apart.” The words hung in the air like a question with no easy answer.

A small frown creased your brow. “That’s a dumb question,” you said, though your tone betrayed the worry beneath your words.

Jinx’s fingers froze on the cold metal. “Oh?” she challenged softly, uncertainty flickering in her gaze.

Slowly, you turned your head, allowing the scattered light of Zaun to dance in your eyes as you gave her a look that said, without words, you idiot—I've got you. “If everything falls apart,” you murmured, “I’ll still be here.”

For a long moment, the only sound was the steady patter of rain against the metal. Then, almost imperceptibly, Jinx extended her pinky toward you. Before she could even fully process it, you responded in kind, interlocking your pinky with hers in a timeless gesture of promise. She stared at that small, tangible commitment—afraid, hopeful—and then gripped your hand a little tighter, as if anchoring herself to a lifeline.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper yet filled with unwavering certainty, “I promise.”

In that simple act, the weight of a thousand unspoken fears eased just a little. It was a fragile promise in a world where nothing was certain, but it was enough. Because even if the streets of Zaun burned and the chaos of Piltover seeped into every corner of your lives, you knew that as long as you had each other, there was a chance to weather the storm.

JAYCE

The warm glow of Piltover’s streetlights bathed the city in a golden hue as you walked side by side with Jayce, your fingers loosely hooked around his arm. The night carried the scent of metal and oil from the nearby workshops, mixed with the faint aroma of fresh bread from a late-night bakery down the road. Despite the cool breeze brushing against your skin, the warmth radiating from Jayce’s body kept you comfortably snug, and as always, you couldn’t help but press yourself just a little closer.

Jayce let out a soft chuckle, his deep voice laced with amusement as he glanced down at you. “Y/N, you’re practically glued to me.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, nuzzling your head against his shoulder as your grip tightened around his bicep. “That’s because I missed you today.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “We were only apart for a few hours.”

You pouted up at him, exaggerating the expression just to see if it would get a reaction. “That’s a few hours too long.”

Jayce smirked, shaking his head again, though the fondness in his chocolate-brown eyes was unmistakable. He pulled his arm free for a second—just enough to sling it around your shoulders and tug you even closer against him. “You really are something else, you know that?” His voice was full of mirth, but there was an undeniable tenderness beneath it.

You grinned up at him, taking the opportunity to slip your arms around his waist as you both continued walking. The streets of Piltover were mostly quiet now, the usual bustle of inventors and enforcers settling down for the night. The two of you strolled along at a leisurely pace, Jayce’s thumb rubbing gentle circles against your shoulder.

“Do you ever get tired of this?” you mused, your cheek pressed against his chest as you matched his steps.

He arched a brow. “Of what?”

“Me clinging to you all the time.”

Jayce let out a low chuckle and pressed a kiss against the top of your head. “Not even for a second.” His voice was sincere, steady, like he meant every word. “If anything, I’d say I’m the lucky one.”

You felt your heart do a little flip at that, your arms tightening slightly around him. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

=

After a while, the two of you made it to his workshop, the familiar scent of parchment, oil, and metal filling the air as you stepped inside. The space was cluttered in a way that was undeniably Jayce—blueprints scattered across his desk, half-built contraptions lying around, and his signature hammer propped against the wall.

As soon as he sat down at his workbench, you wasted no time climbing onto his lap, draping your arms around his shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. Jayce didn’t even flinch. If anything, he welcomed it, one of his hands automatically settling on your lower back as he reached for a pencil with the other.

“You know,” he murmured as he sketched, “if anyone else saw us like this, they’d probably think I’m completely whipped.”

“You are,” you teased, leaning in to nuzzle his cheek. “And you love it.”

Jayce exhaled a soft laugh, his free hand slipping up your spine to tangle in your hair. “Can’t even deny it,” he admitted, turning his head just enough to brush his lips against yours in a fleeting kiss.

You smiled triumphantly, feeling warm and utterly content. “Good answer.”

For a while, he actually tried to focus on his work, his pencil scratching against the paper as he murmured calculations under his breath. But every so often, you would shift in his lap, pressing a kiss to his jaw, tracing patterns along the back of his neck with your fingertips—little distractions that made him exhale in amusement, though he never once asked you to move.

“You’re gonna get distracted,” you murmured eventually, brushing your nose against his.

Jayce hummed, setting his pencil down and finally giving in, both of his arms wrapping tightly around you. “I already am,” he admitted, his voice softer this time. “But I don’t mind. Not when it’s you.”

A pleased hum left your lips as you melted into his embrace, pressing your forehead against his. His warmth, his scent, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—it was all so perfectly Jayce, and you never wanted to be anywhere else.

Jayce tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your temple as he murmured, “I really do love how clingy you are, you know.”

“I know,” you whispered, grinning as you buried your face against his neck. “And you’re never getting rid of me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured back, his arms tightening just a little more around you.

And just like that, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you tangled together in the warmth of his workshop.

VIKTOR

The familiar creak of the apartment door opening was nearly drowned out by the howling wind outside. The bitter chill of the night air followed Viktor as he stepped inside, his cane tapping softly against the wooden floor. He exhaled, his breath slow and measured, exhaustion seeping into his very bones. Another late night. Another long evening lost to the glow of blueprints, the sharp scent of metal, and the endless calculations that cluttered his mind.

As much as he was devoted to his work, as much as his mind thrived in the pursuit of progress, there was only one thing—one person—who could make him feel like all of it was worth it. The thought of her waiting at home, the warmth of her presence lingering even when she wasn’t beside him, was what had kept him going through the hours of grueling research.

He leaned his cane against the wall and sighed, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension settled deep in his muscles. The fatigue wasn’t just physical; it was mental, emotional—a weight that only lightened when he was home.

The apartment was quiet, bathed in the dim glow of candlelight from the bedroom, casting soft golden hues against the walls. His heart softened. She must have left it burning for him, just as she always did, a silent yet ever-present reminder that she was waiting.

He stepped forward, moving toward their shared bedroom, and the moment he pushed the door open, the sight before him made his tired heart ache.

She was curled up on his side of the bed, her small frame tucked beneath the thick blankets, her arms wrapped so tightly around his pillow that it might as well have been a lifeline. Her soft face was buried into the fabric, her lips slightly parted as she breathed steadily, the faintest trace of warmth lingering on the pillowcase where her breath had melted into it.

She looked so peaceful. So delicate in sleep, like a dream that would slip away if he made too much noise.

Viktor’s lips curled into a small, weary smile. He knew how much she craved his presence, how she always sought the warmth of his touch, the security of his embrace. She was clingy, some might say—always reaching for him, always resting her head against his shoulder, always finding little ways to touch him, whether it was intertwining her fingers with his or pressing herself into his side absentmindedly.

And he loved it.

It was grounding. She was grounding.

He had spent most of his life feeling distant—too absorbed in his work, too separated from those around him, too accustomed to being left behind. But not with her. No, never with her.

With her, he was not just Viktor the scientist, Viktor the co-creator of Hextech—he was simply Viktor. The man she loved. The man she waited for.

Carefully, he slipped out of his vest, letting the fabric fall away before loosening his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. The night had been long, but this… this was what made it worth it.

Moving slowly, he approached the bed, sitting on the edge with careful precision, not wanting to disturb her. His fingers reached out, brushing against a few strands of her hair, gently tucking them behind her ear. The warmth of her skin lingered beneath his touch, and his chest tightened at the way she instinctively leaned into it, even in sleep.

She mumbled something incoherent, shifting slightly before clutching his pillow even tighter, her brows furrowing as though she felt the emptiness of the bed beside her.

Viktor let out a soft chuckle, quiet but full of warmth. Even in sleep, she missed him.

His body was heavy with exhaustion, but he wanted to be close to her. Carefully, he lowered himself onto the bed, moving slowly so as not to wake her too suddenly. The mattress dipped under his weight, the familiar creak of the frame filling the silence.

And then, as soon as his warmth settled next to hers—she stirred.

“…Vik?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep, barely above a whisper.

“I am here, lásko,” he murmured, his accent soft, his voice full of quiet reassurance as his fingers ghosted over her cheek. (Love)

She hummed, barely opening her eyes before she let out a slow, sleepy sigh. Without hesitation, she released the pillow from her grasp—only to immediately replace it with him.

Her arms wrapped around him with surprising strength, her body shifting so she could mold herself against his. Her face pressed into his chest, nuzzling against the fabric of his half-unbuttoned shirt, her warmth sinking into him in a way that made the weight of exhaustion disappear, if only for a moment.

He let out a slow breath, a quiet chuckle humming against the top of her head. “You are clingy, even in your sleep, moje láska” (My love)

She only hummed, her fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt as if making sure he stayed this time.

“I missed you…” she murmured, her words muffled against his chest, tinged with drowsiness.

His heart clenched at the softness of her voice. He pressed a lingering kiss to her temple, his lips warm against her skin.

“I am here now,” he whispered. “Sleep, moje láska.”

She exhaled slowly, her entire body melting into his like she had been waiting for this moment all night. Her breathing evened out again, her grip on him not loosening in the slightest.

And for the first time that day, Viktor felt at peace.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax, to breathe in the comfort that was her.

She was always within reach

JAYVIK

The lab was warm, filled with the gentle hum of Hextech cores and the rhythmic scratching of Viktor’s pen against parchment. The soft glow from various devices cast long shadows against the walls, flickering slightly as if alive. The faint scent of oil, parchment, and a lingering trace of Jayce’s cologne mixed in the air, comforting in its familiarity.

Jayce, sleeves rolled up and brow furrowed in concentration, leaned heavily over a blueprint sprawled across the worktable. His muscles tensed as he studied the schematics, fingers twitching slightly as if he were already assembling the mechanism in his mind. Every so often, he would mutter something under his breath, adjusting a measurement or making quick annotations.

Viktor, on the other hand, sat poised, a stark contrast to Jayce’s fidgeting. His pen danced effortlessly across the page, notes forming in neat, efficient strokes. His golden eyes flickered toward Jayce now and then, a quiet amusement lingering in them at his partner’s obvious frustration.

And then there was you—nestled between them, wrapped up comfortably in one of Jayce’s coats with Viktor’s scarf draped over your shoulders. The coat smelled like him, like home—an earthy warmth mixed with hints of metal and the faint traces of whatever cologne he had dabbed on that morning. Viktor’s scarf was softer than expected, well-worn and slightly frayed at the edges, but you liked it that way. It smelled like ink and faintly of copper, a reminder of just how much time he spent in the lab.

You always needed to be touching one of them. It wasn’t even a conscious thought—just an instinct, a tether grounding you to them. Whether it was the warmth of Jayce’s arm beneath your fingertips or the way Viktor’s knee occasionally bumped against yours as he shifted in his seat, the contact soothed you. It was as if their presence alone wasn’t enough; you needed to feel it, to confirm that they were real, that they were here.

At that moment, one hand rested lightly on Viktor’s arm, feeling the warmth beneath his sleeve, while the other absentmindedly played with the hem of Jayce’s shirt. The soft fabric slipped between your fingers, an idle motion, but it kept you connected to him.

Jayce let out a deep sigh and leaned back, dragging a hand through his already tousled hair. “I think I’ve been staring at this too long,” he grumbled, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

“You have,” Viktor replied without looking up, adjusting his notes with careful precision. “Your handwriting is suffering.”

You giggled softly, shifting slightly to lean into Viktor’s side, careful of his cane propped against the table. “Told you so,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

Jayce cracked one eye open and shot you a playful glare. “Oh, so now you’re ganging up on me?”

You hummed in amusement, resting your head against Viktor’s shoulder. “Mhm. That’s what you get for not taking breaks.”

Viktor, ever the enabler of your clinginess, smirked and gave your knee a light pat. “She does have a point,” he mused.

Jayce groaned dramatically, stretching his arms above his head before reaching for you. Before you could react, he grabbed your waist and effortlessly pulled you onto his lap, securing you in place with a strong arm around your middle. You let out a small squeak of surprise, squirming slightly as he held you there.

“If you’re going to be so cuddly,” he murmured, voice deep and teasing against your ear, “at least distribute the affection evenly.”

You huffed but didn’t resist, letting yourself sink into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you. Even still, you stretched your arm out, fingers searching for Viktor’s. He didn’t hesitate, intertwining his fingers with yours in a quiet show of acceptance.

“Better?” you asked, peeking up at Viktor with a playful glint in your eyes.

He let out a soft, long-suffering sigh but squeezed your hand lightly. “You are insatiable,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly, though the fondness in his expression betrayed him.

You grinned unabashedly, nuzzling against Jayce’s chest while still holding onto Viktor’s hand. “You love it,” you said, your voice muffled against the fabric of Jayce’s shirt.

Jayce chuckled, his free hand stroking lazily up and down your back. “We do,” he admitted, pressing a warm kiss to your temple.

Viktor hummed in agreement, though he shifted slightly, as if debating whether to pull away from the moment to return to his work. You weren’t about to let him. With an exaggerated sigh, you tugged at his hand, keeping him anchored to you.

“No more work,” you insisted, peeking up at him. “Just for a little while.”

He looked at you, eyes scanning your expression as if trying to argue, but in the end, he relented. With another shake of his head, he exhaled and leaned back slightly.

“You are a terrible influence,” he murmured, though he made no move to pull away.

You beamed at him, victorious, and snuggled further into Jayce’s embrace, feeling the comforting weight of Viktor’s hand still holding yours.

The work would still be there in an hour. But right now? Right now, none of you were in any hurry to move.

VANDER

The Last Drop was quiet tonight. A rare thing, considering the usual hustle and bustle of Zaun’s infamous bar. Normally, the air would be filled with the sounds of laughter, the clinking of glasses, the occasional scuffle breaking out in the corner. But tonight, it was different. The usual patrons had either stumbled home early or were deep in quiet conversations at their tables, leaving the bar unusually subdued. The dim lanterns above flickered, casting long, warm shadows across the wooden walls.

But none of that mattered to you.

Because he was here.

Vander.

Your Vander.

The sight of him alone was enough to pull you in. He sat at the counter, broad and sturdy as ever, nursing a tankard of ale in one hand while his other absentmindedly rested against the wood. His expression was unreadable, but you could tell—he was thinking about something. He always did that when things got too quiet. His brows would furrow just the slightest, his jaw would tense, and his fingers would flex as if grasping at something unseen.

You hated seeing that look on him. It wasn’t that you didn’t respect the weight he carried—how much he took on for everyone, how much he sacrificed—but you wished he didn’t feel like he had to do it alone.

So, naturally, you did what you always did.

With a soft sigh, you draped yourself over his shoulders from behind, arms winding around his thick frame, pressing your cheek against the worn fabric of his coat. He was solid and warm, the scent of smoke, leather, and a faint trace of ale filling your senses.

Vander let out a gruff chuckle, setting his drink down as he tilted his head just enough to acknowledge you. His thick, calloused fingers reached up, lazily brushing against your arm.

“Again, love?” His voice was low, rough in a way that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. But it was warm too, like embers glowing beneath the ash.

“Mhm.” You hummed, nuzzling into his shoulder, arms tightening around him like a lifeline. “You’re so comfy.”

He let out a deep sigh, one that might’ve sounded exasperated if not for the undeniable fondness laced through it. His broad chest rose and fell beneath you, steady and sure.

“Y’know, people are watchin’.” His voice held a teasing edge, but beneath it, there was something else. An unspoken question.

Are you sure you wanna be this close to me in front of everyone?

You barely hesitated.

“So?” you murmured, pressing a kiss against the rough stubble along his jaw. The scratchy texture made you smile. “They already know you’re mine.”

That got him.

Vander let out a deep, rumbling chuckle, the sound reverberating through his chest and into you. His shoulders shook slightly with it, the tension he’d been holding onto melting away like ice meeting warmth. He shook his head, but you could see it—the way his lips twitched, fighting a smile.

His hands, strong and scarred, slid up your wrists, prying you away just enough so he could turn on the barstool to face you. The moment he did, you climbed into his lap without hesitation, making yourself comfortable as if you belonged there. Because you did.

He let you settle, his large hands bracketing your waist, holding you against him like you might slip away if he let go. You could feel the heat of him through your clothes, the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“You’re somethin’ else,” he murmured, his gaze flickering over your face like he was memorizing every inch of it.

You grinned, poking a finger against his chest. “Something you love.”

A beat passed. His expression softened, something unspoken lingering in his stormy blue eyes.

“Yeah,” he admitted, voice lower now, rougher in a way that made your heart stutter. His grip on you tightened slightly, fingers pressing into the fabric of your shirt as if anchoring himself. “Something I love.”

That was all you needed to hear.

You melted into him, resting your head against his broad chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He smelled like home—like smoke and steel, but beneath that, something distinctly him. Safe. Familiar. Yours.

His fingers moved, slow and absentminded, tracing circles against your lower back. The touch was warm, soothing, like he was grounding himself as much as he was grounding you.

“Y’know,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “you could just carry me everywhere. I wouldn’t mind.”

Vander let out another deep chuckle, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Mhm.”

He shook his head, but his arms didn’t move from around you. Instead, they tightened just a little, as if silently agreeing with your request.

“Spoiled little thing,” he muttered, though there was no bite to it—just adoration.

And, well—if he held you just a little tighter after that, neither of you mentioned it.

SILCO

The atmosphere in The Last Drop was thick with smoke and the murmurs of business, as always. Silco held his usual commanding presence, sharp-eyed and unreadable, every movement deliberate. He stood at the center of the room, a sharp contrast to the chaos surrounding him—where others drank, gambled, or plotted, he remained poised, a force of control amid the unpredictability of Zaun.

You stood beside him, posture composed, expression neutral, as though the act of restraint didn’t tear at you from the inside out. It was a battle you fought every time you were by his side in public. You knew better than to cling to him, knew that in the eyes of others, Silco was a man who demanded power, respect, and unwavering loyalty. He had cultivated an image, one that didn’t allow for softness, for indulgence, for anything that could be perceived as weakness.

But it was so hard.

Your fingers twitched at your side, aching to reach for him, to feel his warmth, to remind yourself that he was there, close enough to touch. But you held yourself back, forcing your hands to remain still, curling them into small fists to resist the urge. It was second nature to want to be near him—to press yourself against him, to let his presence ground you, to absorb his very essence. But out here, in front of everyone, that wasn’t allowed.

Still, he noticed.

While he discussed dealings with Finn, while Sevika hovered nearby with a drink in hand, his sharp gaze flicked toward you—once, twice—brief, calculating glances that told you he saw everything. The way your body tensed with effort, the way you stood rigidly in place, the way your lips pressed together in frustration.

And then, without a word, his gloved fingers brushed against yours.

It was so subtle, so fleeting, that you might have thought it accidental. But before you could dwell on it, his fingers deliberately laced with yours, pressing firm, solid, real.

Your breath caught, your heart thudding against your ribs.

It was small, barely noticeable, but to you, it was everything.

You held onto that touch for the rest of the evening, even after he withdrew his hand to return to business. It was enough to get you through, enough to keep you from crumbling beneath your own restraint. But every second that passed, every deal he struck, every hushed conversation he had, you counted down to the moment you could finally have him to yourself.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, the two of you returned to the privacy of his office.

=

The second the door clicked shut, it was as though an invisible chain snapped. You surged forward, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing yourself into him as though you might melt into his very being. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his vest, clutching it like a lifeline as you buried your face into his chest. He smelled of cigars and expensive cologne, a familiar scent that wrapped around you like a blanket.

Silco let out a soft huff of amusement, though his arms came around you easily, pulling you flush against him. His grip was firm, his touch practiced, as though he expected this from you the moment the door closed.

"You," he murmured, voice tinged with amusement, "must you always act like you’ve been starved of affection?"

You nodded without hesitation, your cheek pressed against the warmth of his chest. "Yes."

He let out a low chuckle, his fingers stroking absentmindedly down your back, tracing small, slow circles. "You held back admirably."

"I hated it," you admitted, your voice muffled against his vest. "I just want to hold you all the time."

Silco sighed, tilting your chin up with a gentle touch, forcing you to meet his mismatched eyes. The red one gleamed in the dim light, sharp yet softened by something unreadable. "You do realize I am not going anywhere?"

"Don’t care," you muttered, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him. "Let me be clingy now."

His lips brushed over your temple, and this time, there was no teasing, no sharp amusement—only quiet understanding.

"Very well," he murmured, then took your hand and led you toward the worn leather couch near the fireplace.

He sat first, sinking into the cushions with the ease of a man who had lived a thousand battles, and you wasted no time following. You practically threw yourself onto him, arms winding around his torso as you half-climbed into his lap, tucking yourself against him like a puzzle piece meant to fit. Silco exhaled softly, one arm draping over your shoulders, the other hand resting idly against your hip as he leaned back into the couch.

For a man so guarded, so sharp and calculating, he had a way of holding you that made you feel like the most precious thing in the world. His touch was firm, grounding, as though even in these rare moments of stillness, he was unwilling to let you slip away.

You let out a deep, content sigh, shifting slightly to get even closer. "This is better."

Silco hummed in agreement, fingers threading lazily through your hair. "I imagine you'd suffocate me if given the chance."

"Probably," you admitted, voice drowsy with comfort. "Wouldn't even regret it."

His chest rumbled with amusement, but he didn't move away, didn't push you off. If anything, his arm tightened around you just slightly, just enough for you to feel it.

You stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in the warmth of each other, away from the prying eyes of the world. Here, there was no restraint, no expectations—just the quiet understanding between two people who knew how cruel the world could be, but had found solace in one another.

And Silco, despite all his carefully cultivated power and distance, let you cling to him for as long as you needed.

[almostwisegalaxy]

Deep Headcanon: Na Baek-jin as a Boyfrie

Na beak jin x GN!reader

"You taught me that love shouldn't save me. It should just let me be someone new. - Na Baek-jin

..................................................................................

A Tense Romance: The Awakening of Vulnerability

Na Baek-jin doesn't fall in love easily. He sees attachment as an exploitable weakness, a distraction from his objectives. But you are the exception he never anticipated.

You arrived as a quiet counterpoint to his coldness: neither dazzled by his charisma nor frightened by his methods. You answered him without trembling. On that day, you became a mystery greater than all the schemes he orchestrated.

Love, for Baek-jin, is never expressed in simple words. He has never said "I love you." He doesn't know how. But you hear it in:

"You came home late. You should avoid that alley."

"I've changed your access code. It's safer now."

"I looked into that professor who's treating you badly."

He speaks of love as one draws up war plans: coldly, strategically, never saying why he worries.

But you learn to translate.

Heavy Silences, Talkative Glances

Baek-jin is not a man of tender gestures. But when he looks at you, his gaze says what he cannot verbalize. In his eyes, there is an anxious obsession, a love that frightens him.

The rare times he touches you, it's calculated:

He silently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, as if to make sure you're real.

He lets his hand brush yours when no one is looking.

He places a coat over your shoulders, not because you're cold, but because he cannot bear for anything to touch you without his consent.

It is a silent love, yet almost violently intense.

The Forbidden Notebook

One day, you discover a hidden notebook in a locked drawer. It's a journal. Na Baek-jin writes in it what he will never say.

"Today, they smiled at someone else. My stomach tightened. Is this fear?"

"I almost told them I was afraid of losing them. But it would have sounded like a loss of power. So I said: 'Do what you want. It's none of my business.'"

You never speak to him about it. You protect this secret as he protects yours. But sometimes you leave a note between the pages, a silent answer to his inner war.

Love Through Chaos

He draws you into a world of power, manipulation, and contained violence. But he never directly exposes you. He places an invisible barrier between you and what he does. Yet you know. You know his world devours his soul, that he sacrifices his last illusions of goodness.

And sometimes, at night, he breaks. He sits beside you. He says nothing. But his hands tremble. You place your hand on his, and for once, he doesn't pull away.

"I don't know who I would be without what I do. But I know that if you are no longer here, I am nothing."

This is not a declaration. It is a raw plea.

Mending What's Broken

Love with Na Baek-jin isn't about flowers or perfect photos. It's a field of ruins where you choose to plant a flower.

It's the silence in an empty apartment, where he leaves you the key, but never explicit permission. You invite yourself in when he can't take it anymore. You don't ask questions. You let him breathe. You make rice, you open a window.

One day, you fall ill. And unexpectedly, he takes care of you. In an almost mechanical, clumsy, yet clinically precise way. You sense he's never done this before. But he reads, he learns, he makes lists.

"You need to drink every 2 hours. I set alarms. I avoided anti-inflammatories; they interfere with your medication."

You cry. And he doesn't understand why.

The Day He Was Afraid

That day, you disappeared for six hours. Your phone was off. He searched everywhere. He called every contact, every camera, every informant.

When you return, exhausted by a simple dead battery and a traffic jam, he has no words. But he pulls you close, hard, brutally.

"Don't ever do that again. You don't have the right to disappear. You're not just someone in my life. You are my only anchor."

It's the first time he cries. And you say nothing. You just rest your head against his shoulder. And you understand: he let you in. You are in his nervous system now.

Rage and Tenderness: The Living Paradox

Love with Na Baek-jin is brutal and tender. He knows no moderation. When he worries, he shouts. When he's scared, he turns cold. When he loves you, he trembles.

He loves you like one loves on the edge of a void. Like someone who has never known solid ground.

But he learns. With you. Every day. Slowly. In small doses.

He starts sending you messages with a ❤️ that he deletes and re-adds three times before pressing "send." He starts resting his head on your shoulder, in an almost childlike gesture. He learns to fall asleep without fearing abandonment upon waking.

The Seasons' Notebook

One day, you create a tradition: writing him a letter with each change of season. He never replies. But you continue.

One winter day, he hands you a notebook. It contains his replies. All of them.

Spring: "I never thought I could love someone as much as my ambition. You showed me that love doesn't erase strength; it redirects it."

Summer: "I watched you laugh today. I wanted time to stop. For the first time, I wished to live for someone other than myself."

You cry as you read. He pulls you into his arms. And for the first time, he tells you:

"You are the only thing in this world I don't want to control. Just keep."

An Uncertain Future, But Together

Na Baek-jin doesn't believe in tomorrow. He lives by the logic of the present: control, survive, defend.

But sometimes, he watches you sleep, and he dares. He allows himself to dream.

He imagines an apartment where you don't have to hide. A café he would open, far from schemes and fists. A dog. Maybe a child. Normal evenings.

He doesn't believe it yet. But he confesses it to you one evening, whispering against your neck:

"I never thought I'd live to be old. But if I have to... I'd want it to be with you."

And that's what love with Baek-jin is.

It's not clean. It's not easy. But it's true.

It's the kind of love that hurts, that heals, that sometimes destroys, but if it survives, it becomes indestructible.

Because he loves you with all that he is—even what he hates about himself.

And one day, he finally understands that he might deserve to be loved in return.

Not despite all of it.

But because of all of it.

Love as Healing

Na Baek-jin remains a man of contradictions. He controls, he tests, he doubts. But he loves. Intensely. As if you were the last purity he deserves.

He respects you. Not just your body, but your ideas, your freedom, your right to question him. He relearns how to live. He deconstructs what he was taught: that love is weakness, that the world is a power game.

With you, he learns that intimacy is not a danger but a liberation. That saying "I'm tired" doesn't mean "I lose" but "I rest in your arms."

Love, Baek-jin Style

Loving Baek-jin isn't living an ideal romance. It's being loved by someone who knows the taste of blood, but who chooses to lay down his weapons before you.

It's seeing a boy everyone believes invincible wake up with a start at night and whisper: "Are you here?"

It's learning to decipher silence, to read between the lines of a gaze, to understand that a "Be careful" said while looking away means: "Come back alive to me; I wouldn't survive your loss."

It's living a love that doesn't try to be perfect, but chooses to be true.

It's loving a boy who has done terrible things, but who, with you, learns to be gentle without feeling weak.

............................* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊

°Moments when he says I love you without words

The First Time He Fought for You

It was an alley. You weren't supposed to be there. Not supposed to see what you saw.

They surrounded you — not to truly hurt you, but to test. To hurt him, indirectly.

And when he arrived, he didn't even look at you at first.

He just stood in front of you, back straight, fists clenched.

He didn't yell. He didn't threaten.

He destroyed them. Methodically. Without a word.

And when it was all over, his knuckles bleeding, breathing heavily, he turned to you.

Not to reassure you.

He just whispered:

> "I told you not to linger here."

But his hands were trembling.

And you understood: it wasn't anger. It was fear. A panic-stricken fear of losing you.

The Night He Allowed Himself to Cry

You came to his place unannounced.

You found him sitting on the floor, leaning against the bathroom door, soaked in sweat and cold water.

He'd been fighting. Again. Not to survive this time — just because he didn't know what else to do to exist.

You didn't ask him any questions.

You sat across from him, knees touching knees.

And there, in the cold light, he lowered his head. He murmured:

> "I don't know how else to be. I've tried. But I always fall back."

> "You don't deserve someone like me."

And without you responding, he cried. Not loud sobs. Silent tears, full of humiliation and love intertwined.

You reached out your hand. He took it. It was the first time.

The Night He Whispered "Stay"

You were ready to leave. Another argument. Too much tension. Too many walls.

You had gotten out of bed, silently, in the dark.

And as you gathered your bag, you heard his voice. Deep, cracked. So human.

> "Stay."

One word. Just one.

Not a plea. Not an apology. A confession.

You stopped.

He sat up, still wrapped in the sheets, hair messy, gaze burning. He didn't move, but his whole body seemed to reach out to you.

> "I don't want you to leave... even if I don't have the words to tell you properly."

> "But if you leave... I know I won't recover from that."

You stayed.

Not because he begged you. But because it was true.

The Day He Had a Nightmare and Sought You Like a Child

He had always slept alone. Even with you beside him, there was a tension in his muscles that never truly left.

But one night, he screamed in his sleep.

A hoarse, deep cry. The kind that seems to well up from childhood, from unspoken traumas.

You woke him. He was sweating, eyes wild, hands clutching the sheet.

He looked at you as if he'd forgotten you truly existed.

And then he reached out.

Not like a lover. Like a ten-year-old boy who doesn't want to sleep alone in the dark anymore.

You came close to him. He hugged you so tightly you gasped for breath.

And in the crook of your neck, he whispered, almost inaudibly:

> "I dreamed you were leaving, and I couldn't catch you."

> "Even my legs wouldn't respond."

The Day He Said "I Love You" Without Saying It

He will never say those words in a classic way.

But one evening, as you watched the rain fall against the windows, he entered the room.

He sat beside you, rested his head on your shoulder, and remained there motionless for long minutes.

Then, as if speaking to the rain:

> "Before you, I never wanted to go home."

> "Now, it's the only place I want to go."

You said nothing. You simply placed your hand on his.

And he kept it there.

The Day He Entrusted You With His Future

It was mundane. A subway station. A moment between two obligations.

You were talking about plans. About the future. Simple dreams: a dog, a car, a normal job.

He smiled. Rare. Almost sad.

And then, without looking at you, he said:

> "Do you think a guy like me can have all that?"

> "Not now. But one day. With you."

And that day, for the first time, he allowed himself to hope.

Not in silence.

Out loud. With you.

The Moment He Defended You... From Yourself

You were devaluing yourself. Again.

You laughed, saying you weren't good enough, that you didn't understand why he stayed.

He froze.

Then he stood up, approached slowly, and looked you straight in the eyes.

> "Don't you ever say that again."

> "You are the only clean thing in my life. And I swear, I will destroy anyone who makes you believe you're worthless��including you."

You felt like crying.

Not because he was yelling. But because it was true. Raw. Protective. Na Baek-jin, in all his rage to love.

And That Silence...

The most intense?

It's not a scene. Not a declaration.

It's that moment, where you're sitting next to each other, saying nothing.

He looks at your hands. You look at the scar on his chin.

And in that silence, you feel everything he will never be able to express.

> That he loves you like a survivor loves the morning light.

> That he's afraid, every day, of losing you.

> And that he's ready to become a new man—not for you.

But because, thanks to you, he discovered he was capable of it.

............................* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊

Conclusion:

Na Baek-jin as a boyfriend is not an easy romance. It's a story of healing, of balance between control and surrender, between strategy and sincerity.

But if you hold on, if you understand his language, if you respect his silences, then you become more than a love for him: you become a refuge. And he will be willing to do anything to protect it.

Na Baek-jin never learned to love. But with you, he creates a new code. A love that is at once raw, honest, and indestructible.

..................................................................................

Other weak hero class fanfictions here

Yeah. My man (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡

@mariii-0001 @mizxuqii @iiwsmr @emswirls

[cueloki]

Midgard wide web: TBR

Loki gets on the internet and makes quite a few discoveries in the process.

Wordcount: 2372

Pairing: Loki x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Loki the explorer; Loki discovers social media and smut, unsupervised use of internet, credit card fraud (sorry)

A/N: I really want that book with the pretty illustrations. | divider credit: firefly-graphics

Loki wasn’t someone who particularly wanted to develop mortal habits. Knowing about them was one thing, picking them up himself was another.

The only problem was he fell in love with a mortal and now he wanted to understand the weird things humans do, to understand you; your peculiar humor and quirks. 

He wanted to show you he cared about the stuff you cared about, no matter its level of importance. 

In an effort to do just that he asked if you could help him sign up for social media. 

You were a little surprised. Loki never showed anything but disdain for socials before but you figured he simply caved to curiosity so you guided him through setting up accounts.

First he explored instagram and your dms filled with countless cute animal videos and funny posts. Next he discovered the wonders of stan twitter where people begged him for a tiny bit of his attention on the daily. His little ‘Daggerians’ as he named them wanted to know more about him. They tweeted questions at him left and right and it was all very innocent at first…

“Darling, someone asked me what my favorite ‘me me’ is. What's a ‘me me’?” “A me-me? … OH, you mean a meme!”

Until it wasn’t. 

“Darling, I have ligma?” “Loki, I am not falling for that.” “Pardon?” “I know it's a trick.” “I don't understand. Somebody told me I have ligma.” “Who told you that?” “A Daggerian! What’s ligma?” “Oh baby, I hate to be the one to tell you but… It's a set up, they want you to ask what ligma is so they can say ligma balls.” “...” “As in lick my–” “Yes, I get it!” “...” “...” “...” “That is no way to talk to a god!”

That was the day Loki learned about the block button and some poor unfortunate soul got the privilege of being the first on his blocklist. 

Loki didn't take kindly to tricking attempts, especially unoriginal ones. Unfortunately his fans were just as mischievous as him so they tried their luck in pranking the god. You had to stifle your laughter as he scarcely avoided a taste of his own medicine…

The questions about internet culture kept popping up and even though you told him a lot of what he asked about would be answered with a quick google search, he insisted he preferred your explanations.

Eventually the novelty of the ‘stupid bird app’ wore off but most of all Loki tired of stan twitter’s shenanigans. Needing a break, he decided to sign up on tiktok and hide out there. 

That very first day after hours of scrolling he ended up watching a book review of the latest book everyone on booktok was obsessed with.

“This is quite explicit in its topics.” He hummed. It was full of taboos, violence but most importantly, it was packaged with a hefty set of steamy scenes. You would know. You had read it.

“It's a spicy dark romance book.” You explained. You were curled up on the couch with him, sketching in your journal and vaguely paying attention to what he was watching.

He paused the video. “A spicy book?” He narrowed his eyes as his fingers kept idly tracing your upper thigh.

“Mhm, like you know… it has smut.” Your hand stilled as you stopped drawing and peered up at him.

“What’s a smut?” His face scrunched.

“Not a smut, just smut. It's sex scenes.” You chuckled at his evident confusion. You weren't used to Loki being the one out of his element, it was usually you.

“Do you read those kinds of novels?” He had asked.

“Sometimes.”

And that's what kickstarted it all. In the coming weeks your boyfriend was catching up with all the books booktok raved about, consuming smut like it was the very air he needed to breathe.  

“Darling, this is awfully kinky. We don’t have anything like it on Asgard.” He commented while reading the first one on your kindle. 

After getting through it he decided you ‘needed to start getting physical copies again to save your eyesight and get the proper reading experience’ but really you knew it was because he preferred to read that way and as you agreed – for his sake – all hell broke loose.

Three months later he barged in while you were getting some work done on your computer. By this point Loki had built his own dark romance book collection, filling up multiple shelves and it was anything but innocent. 

He roped you in as well.

“I think you'll enjoy this one,” He smirked as he placed another book he finished onto the desk of your home office. “Enemies to lovers and it has touch her and die.”

“I can't believe you pitch me books with tropes now. Booktok owes me compensation for teaching you these things. You've been corrupted!” You teased him gleefully. He leaned onto the desk with his forearms, cocking an amused brow. You picked up the book and examined the pretty cover with the gold foil details. As you turned it around you noticed the sprayed edges.

“Special edition? It's pretty. Where did you get it?” You mused before your eyes flicked up to his.

“Last month I signed us up for a subscription box… or… a few… Under your name. This was the first one that arrived.” He explained.

You hummed, continuing to admire the book’s design until his words sank in and your head shot up. 

“Wait, did you say a few? On my card?” Your eyes widened.

“Of course not. Stark’s.” He smiled proudly.

“That explains it.” You nodded, worry melting away slightly. “Should I even ask how you have his credit card information? Probably not right?” You pursed your lips.

He shook his head. “Best not to make you an accomplice, darling.” 

You snorted. “Okay well, thanks, my love,” You reached to put the book away but he stopped you.

“No, this one should skip to the top of your TBR. Open it.” He urged fervently.

So you did. Only to discover a breathtaking illustration of a woman, her body covered by nothing but Rapunzel-long hair. She was riding on a white horse while a raven haired man was depicted walking beside her. From far away he kind of resembled Loki even down to his clothes.

“I think he's gorgeous, don't you?” Loki grinned smugly. “She as well… Reminds me of you.”

“Does she now?” You asked dully, presenting a facade of disinterest though you knew he saw right through you.

“If you take off your clothes right now she does.” He shot you a mischievous wink.

You laughed. Your heart still skipped a beat even when his flirting was silly.

“Get out of my office you dork, I have work to do!”

Loki straightened and raised up his hands in defense. “Alright alright, what do you want for lunch?” He smiled softly.

You spun in your chair and placed the book onto the growing stack behind you. 

“Surprise me,” you returned his smile.

As much as you tried you couldn’t keep up with the pace Loki read books. 

That didn't seem to matter to him at all. With his impeccable memory as soon as you finished one he'd be eager to discuss it with you. You'd be lying if you said you weren’t happy to share this with him even if it meant giving up the comfort of your kindle.

What you could never foresee was how engaged Loki became with booktok during all of this. He was in the depths of it then one day his algorithm spiraled onto the fandom side of tiktok…

“Darling, what's tumblr?” He asked.

You paused typing on your laptop and slowly exited out of your fanfic wip document, peeking over the screen at him from your side of the couch. 

“Blogging site, has a lot of art, fandom communities… Why?”

“Seems like something you’d enjoy. Are you on it?” He tilted his head curiously.

You hadn't exactly shared that part of your life with him yet but you couldn’t in good conscience lie about it. You wanted to be honest in your relationship. And it's not like he would know what was on your tumblr.

“Yeah, yeah… I'm on it.” You admitted. And then came the question that made you wish the ground swallowed you whole.

“May I see your account?” He was completely serious too.

“Oh baby, it's such an old blog, it'd be cringy to look at.” You tried to divert Loki from his idea.

It wasn’t solely about cringe. Fact of the matter was you’d have no problem with him seeing your blog if it wasn’t also littered with hundreds thousands of Loki fics you had reblogged back in the day before you two got together… when you had a hopeless crush on him and were indulging. Which was embarrassing enough on its own. But that wasn't the worst of it… 

The truth was you had found yourself writing your own Loki fanfic pieces. If you could call it fanfic. The stuff you had posted was borderline real event recounts and you had no idea how he'd react to that.

“Alright, my love.” He shrugged and dropped the topic suspiciously fast, going back to tapping on his phone. 

Relieved that he didn't press you about it, you didn’t question it at the time and simply thought that was that. And everything was fine…

Until the next day when he barged into your office in the middle of your work day. 

“There's smut of me on tumblr! So much of it!” He exclaimed in delight.

Guess cat’s out of the bag.

You cleared your throat and looked up from your screen. “That's nice, sweetheart,” You smiled. “But I have a meeting in–”

“No, darling, you have to see this, it's impressively accurate!” He crossed the room in quick strides and handed you his phone. 

He leaned against your desk as he waited patiently. You watched how his fingers tightened around the desk’s border then finally scanned the post on his phone. Immediately you recognized it as one of your own. You tried to push down your internal panic as you glanced up at him. His expression was blank.

Does he know? Either way you probably have to come clean.

You bit your bottom lip and discarded his phone on the desk. 

“Is this a joke?” You searched his face for any sign of what he was thinking. He cocked an eyebrow. You hesitated, unable to read how much he already knew but then you gave in, confession leaving your lips, coaxed out by his silence.

“That's my blog. How did you find it?” 

He crossed his arms and smirked. “And here I was so sure I would have to extract the truth out of you because you wouldn't admit it. My darling, pray tell, what other secrets do you keep from me?” His eyes twinkled with mirth.

You rolled your eyes and got up. “I told you I didn't want you to look at it.” You wrinkled your nose. You knew this would be revealed at some point so you weren’t necessarily mad, just blindsided.

“I wasn’t searching for it, I happened to stumble onto it.” His hands landed on your hips, pulling you closer. Your arms snaked around his neck without hesitation as you relaxed into his touch. 

“Happened to? How'd you know it was mine, Mischief?” You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically.

“Oh I don't know, maybe the fact that the writing’s akin to a page out of your journal or perhaps the fact you made your username our inside joke?” He laughed.

Your cheeks warmed up. Okay, in hindsight, you understood how it would be obvious to him.

“Stop reading my journal, nosy god–”

“If you didn’t want me to know you’d hide it better–”

You quirked a threatening eyebrow at him. 

“Apologies my darling, continue.” He smiled sheepishly.

“I’ll take it down, the smut.” You declared offhandedly. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable because you’d splashed your intimate details onto the hellsite.

“You will do no such thing.” His eyes darkened as his fingers dug into your skin possessively. 

Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. 

“You like it that people know what we do together, what your god does to you, you get off on it, don't you?” His voice lowered.

You snickered, ignoring the heat that shot to your core. “Okay Mr. Dark romance, I see you've learned some new tricks.” 

He lifted you onto the desk, positioning himself between your legs. “Maybe you'll even get to write about them on your blog.” He whispered huskily in your ear.

to be continued…?

→          BONUS

ONE MONTH AGO

“How the hell– This is completely busted.” Tony mumbled to himself as he examined the malfunctioning part of his new invention. “Jarvis, order a new one. Product number…” He squinted at the almost too small font. “6L0R10VS” He read off the sequence.

“On it sir.”

Minutes passed and Tony’s lab filled with a haunting silence, he tapped his foot and looked to the ceiling as if talking to god himself and not just Jarvis. 

“What’s taking so long?” He complained.

“I’m sorry sir, it looks like their website doesn’t let artificial intelligence access it.” The synthetic voice announced.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Tony groaned, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

He walked over to his desk and slumped into his chair that let out a weary squeak from years of abuse. “Gotta do everything myself,” He grumbled to himself as he pulled up the website and looked for a new part. If Jarvis had feelings he might have been offended at the notion. 

Tony tried to get it over with as fast as possible so he could get back to tinkering soon. He rolled his eyes when he tried to check out his cart and the site he used regularly didn't have his information saved anymore.

With a sigh he reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out his wallet and got to entering his credit card details.

Loki smirked in the shadows. This will set him up nicely for those book box subscriptions.

[theskywithin]

Birth Chart Breakdown- Neptune in The Signs

Neptune asks one thing of you: to surrender. But not to fantasy, not to illusion, to truth. Can you see clearly through the fog? Can you hold a dream without being consumed by it? When you learn to navigate Neptune’s tide, you discover the balance between vision and reality, between longing and belonging. And in that balance, you find not just dreams, but destiny.

🔥 Neptune in Aries

You chase the horizon, convinced it holds your name. The fire in your chest is real, but the victory you seek vanishes the moment you reach for it. Neptune blurs your battles, making it hard to tell if you are fighting for something true or just fighting to feel alive. There is beauty in your urgency, but not every war is worth the wounds. Your lesson? Pause. In the silence, you will hear what truly calls you.

🌿 Neptune in Taurus

You dream of hands that never let go, of a world that stays still long enough to be called yours. You seek safety in touch, in possession, in the familiar, but Neptune erodes the edges of what you think you own. Security slips through your fingers like sand, urging you to learn that nothing is ever truly yours except your own presence. Your lesson? Let go. What is meant for you cannot be held, only trusted.

💨 Neptune in Gemini

Your mind is a kaleidoscope, flickering between truths that never settle. You gather words like fireflies, believing they will guide you home, but Neptune shifts the meaning before you can hold it still. There is wisdom in your wandering, but beware the illusion that understanding alone will save you. Your lesson? Silence. In the absence of words, real knowing begins.

🌊 Neptune in Cancer

You dream in memories that never quite belonged to you, carrying the weight of love lost and love imagined. Neptune turns home into a feeling rather than a place, and you spend your life searching for an embrace that exists only in the past. You drown in nostalgia, believing the past was softer than it was. Your lesson? Open your hands. What has left will not return, but something new is waiting to take its place.

☀️ Neptune in Leo

You long to be seen, but Neptune makes you question whether you are looking into a mirror or a stage light. You create to be remembered, to be felt, to leave something behind that proves you were here. But Neptune distorts recognition, it cannot fill what is hollow. Your lesson? Love yourself when the applause fades. The truest stage is the one inside your heart.

🌾 Neptune in Virgo

You dream of a world where every piece fits, where effort creates certainty and order soothes the unknown. But Neptune makes the lines blur, the solutions dissolve, the work feel endless. You chase perfection, only to find it slipping further away. Your lesson? Rest. There is more divinity in imperfection than in anything you could fix.

⚖️ Neptune in Libra

You see beauty in everyone, believing love can heal all wounds. But Neptune makes it easy to mistake longing for love, attraction for destiny. You fall for ghosts, for projections, for the idea of a person rather than their reality. Your lesson? See clearly. Love is not about losing yourself in another, it is about finding someone who lets you be whole.

🦂 Neptune in Scorpio

You crave depth, but Neptune lures you into waters deeper than you were meant to swim. You believe that transformation must be painful, that love must consume you, that mystery is the same as truth. You stare into the abyss, hoping to find yourself, but Neptune reflects only what you want to see. Your lesson? Surface. Darkness is not the only way to find meaning.

🏹 Neptune in Sagittarius

You believe the answers lie somewhere beyond the horizon, that truth is waiting in distant lands or untold philosophies. Neptune feeds your wanderlust, making you believe that movement is progress. But the search never ends, because the thing you seek was never outside you. Your lesson? Stand still. The wisdom you long for is already within you.

🛠 Neptune in Capricorn

You dream of legacy, of achievement, of a life that stands the test of time. But Neptune makes success feel hollow the moment you reach it. You build empires only to wonder why they feel empty. You seek purpose in ambition, only to realize ambition cannot give you purpose. Your lesson? Redefine success. Build something that fulfills your soul, not just your reputation.

🌐 Neptune in Aquarius

You believe in a world that does not yet exist, seeing utopias where others see only limits. But Neptune turns ideals into illusions, making you fall in love with dreams rather than people. You crave connection, yet keep a distance, afraid that intimacy will dissolve the perfection you imagine. Your lesson? Come closer. The world is not perfect, but real love exists within the flaws.

🌊 Neptune in Pisces

You are the dream itself, drifting between worlds, dissolving boundaries between self and universe. You feel everything, sometimes too much, sometimes until it drowns you. Neptune is at home here, and so are your illusions, love that has no shape, faith that has no anchor, art that has no end. You see magic where others see mist, but beware of vanishing into the fog. Your lesson? Stay. The divine is not found in escape, but in presence. Let yourself be here, now, and watch how even the ordinary becomes sacred.

[sonysakura]

🚫 My Sonic Big Bang 2024 Experience

...Or how a few months of my life were severely negatively impacted by someone else's bad management. See for yourself.

Proof of the rule they're speaking about being actively hidden from the participants to this day: FAQ – archived link, screenshot with "Who can participate?" on top, screenshot with "explicit" word search, screenshot with "nsfw" word search; Master Guide – screenshot with "explicit" word search, screenshot with "nsfw" word search; server rules – long screenshots of General Server Rules and StH Big Bang Specific Rules: Mar 12 and Jul 01, screenshots of Strike Policy: Mar 12 and Jul 01, long screenshot of General Guidelines, long screenshot of Collaboration Thread Guidelines.

I feel like this is extremely unfair 😭 One moment I was participating in the event I dreamed about for years, and the next moment I'm thrown out into the cold when I did nothing wrong. I need to get it off my chest...

Below, more about my experience with the event, though it ended up a little vent-y, a detailed (and verified!) record of what exactly happened in private thread #48, the aftermath and some fun facts I discovered or want to share:

First things first! Yep, I signed up for Sonic BB as a Writer back in January. I didn't talk about it outside of my server 'cause I wanted it to be a surprise – when I roll out a lo-o-ong illustrated fic without a warning. I'll admit, I always wanted to participate in a Big Bang for this fandom, it was a dream of sorts. And still, before sending my form in, I carefully read all of the Master Guide and the FAQ both. Seeing as how for my neurodivergent brain the rules and regulations are important, that's what I usually do for events, and this one wasn't an exception. Confident that I understand what the event would require of me, I signed up.

First month of the event went well. My questions were answered (even though I wondered why some of the things I asked couldn't have been in the Master Guide from the beginning), I wrote my fic summary and submitted it without many problems, etc. There was a small hiccup at the very beginning of March when I noticed how strict the management seemed to be (no changes or adjustments allowed), and my anxiety got the best of me, so I asked the mods if there's a plan in case a collab team doesn't work out: screenshot of my message in #writers-info-and-questions, pulled from my Discord data; screenshot of my detailed explanation in DMs; screenshot of Mod Joy's reply. Here are the most important quotes from his reply:

I understand wanting to plan for the worst case scenarios, but I would caution you not to freak yourself out over what all could go wrong! There are some absolutely lovely artists in this event who are excited to work with the writers. Odds are, things will go off without a hitch.

We are highly encouraging that no one drops out after the assignments, especially writers, unless due to extenuating circumstances.

We want to make everything as fun and stress-free for everyone. Know that we will be around to moderate threads and dissolve any tensions that arise,..

In short, I was placated with reassurances of careful moderation, not dropping writers and ✨positivity✨. I decided to stay and challenge myself since originally BB is meant to be a challenge and all...

For those of you who haven't participated: the way it is supposed to go is that writers submit short summaries of their stories, these summaries are stripped of the writers' names and given to artists to pick through. The artists then have to list their Top 10 stories to illustrate during the claims period. After the claims, private collab threads are made for each writer and their artists with a couple of mods. So no one else could see what happens in these threads.

Now flashforward to March 11th and the threads being created. Obviously I don't have screenshots of that due to being kicked off the server without any warning and before any chance of communication, unable to delete my personal information or save anything that might be used against me which was a case of poor management at best and a deliberate move at worst, so I'm retelling as faithfully as possible. It also has been verified by [artist 1] and according to them, this is exactly what happened.

My fic was in the 4-8k range, and I got two artists. I was asleep when the thread opened, and they talked about how excited they are for my fic before I came in. Both of them are 18, young but adults. I’ll call them [artist 1] (they're cool), and the other one is [artist 2]. Both artists seemed to talk to me normally.

Oh, I have to point out that there were hmm, Mods Chaz, Joy, Summers and Frostios in my thread. I think only four of them, but I know for sure Mod Summers was reading our conversation at least in the beginning because I noticed my fic's Warnings saying "None" (the original summary I submitted had Warnings: Discussion of Homophobia, Slight Internalised Homophobia), and I pointed out that there are warnings, though I don't know if they were lost just now or weren't in the sheet available to the Artists either, and whether they were actually lost or mods didn't consider it a big enough warning to keep... I still don't know. Mod Summers just silently pinned my message.

I mentioned how I'm in one of the Asian timezones geographically, so I might be awake or asleep at unconventional times, and they told me their timezones (I didn't ask!), so I figured I can make a timebuddy chart for easy tracking what time it is for everyone. Made one, sent the link to the thread, Mod Summers asked me if I want it pinned, too, and then a couple of hours later (I think?) [artist 1] came and said it's very helpful. This is my evidence for at least Mod Summers probably reading the conversation that followed but also maybe not. I think all of the mods were online or at least visually online when it was happening.

This is where I reveal that the entire conversation happened in like... one afternoon 🥲 Roughly 7 pm to 2 am for me.

Back to the conversation itself. There were a few questions I had so I started with them, basically 1) if they've read my fics before (explained that I'm asking so I know whether I need to tell them about my writing style and Sonadow dynamics I write); 2) do they want me to send in scenes as I write them or they want a full draft; 3) if they have any immediate questions for me. Question 1) is what we need. Both of them said they've never read my stuff before, and that they don't have any questions now but they want art to be as close to text as possible, so they will ask in the future. This is how it went down after (as per my memory, artist rendition I guess):

[artist 1]: I haven't read your fics but I'd like to! Your Ao3 is the same as your handle? [no link]

Me: It isn't a requirement, you don't have to! But that's right. I have to warn you though that I usually rate my Ao3 profile as 18+ when I link it, though 33/36 of my Sonic fics are rated G and T, and I feel like a warning is in order anyway so people don't accidentally stumble upon something they don't want to see and know what to avoid/filter out. [I didn't post any links or encouraged the artists to read my profile, just made a warning to be cautious]

We go into discussion of how long I have been writing, [artist 1] shows no problems with knowing my Ao3 has 3 Mature fics, I describe what series my fic will be for [the series is completely SFW, and even then I didn't post the link to it] and go into details of how I write Sonadow dynamics in my fics without mentioning the NSFW ones obviously, we speak about Question 2).

[artist 2]: [replying to my warning about my Ao3] ooohh so you write gore sometimes?

Me: Nah, I don't actually, I'm pretty uncomfortable with it tbh, so no, I don't. Some blood and a quick description of Maria's dead body is the most I have ever done 😅 All the angst I make characters go through is emotional rather than physical!

[artist 2]: oh I shouldn't have assumed, sorry. It's just the first thing my mind went to

Me: It's okay! I've been a medical student at some point and I think I've just had enough of that - one of the main reasons I'm not a doctor but a linguist.

[artist 1] gets excited about this for some reason, and we chat about it for a moment.

Normal conversation continues like...

Me: Okay, where were we

[artist 2]: i wasn't paying attention errr

Me: Me neither! But it's Question 3)

I go into saying how them wanting to draw as close to the text is 💯 what I wanted to hear because for me my texts are an extension of my soul, I'm fragile about them, and I'd prefer the art to be exactly according to it blah-blah-blah, I describe my thoughts about a plan of work for us and how I'm going to share pieces of my fic according to their respective wishes.

[artist 1]: Sounds great!

[artist 2]: yeah, sounds good

[artist 1] says something else which I just react with an emoji to, and I start getting ready for sleep because it's almost 2 am, and I have to get up at 6 am.

Nothing else was said in the thread. That's it.

I got to bed and as most people nowadays I check my phone one last time. I see [artist 2] requesting a mod they can DM to, but I don't think much of it…

So 6 am. I wake up and again, as most people nowadays, I check my phone. I went to sleep in a good mood, seemingly in good relations with my artists, excited for the collab and having a solid plan everyone agreed to, so I eagerly open Discord to see if they wrote anything new in the thread. I see no Sonic Big Bang 2024 server.

I will not go into too much detail about my state, but I have an extremely acute reaction to stress very similar to a panic attack that lasts for hours. So with shaking fingers I open my DMs to see the message from that first screenshot I started my post with. The following exchange with me learning about the hidden rule happens the next day. Unfortunately, before that I still have to go to work for a full day in that very same mental state, oof. Plus I have no breaks on Tuesday... I go back and forth all day with my friends about how shitty this situation is, and one of them asks me how [artist 1] reacted. I say that I don't know, but they still follow me on Tumblr so I go and message them, and from what they tell me, it sounds like a mod pretended to them that I was removed because of an existing rule that's stated somewhere. They didn't argue with that, and that's understandable of course.

At home, I notice one of the event mods blocked me.

It is difficult to explain what's happening in my mind without going into details of what my [disorders] are, but things that are unfair, things that are injustice put my brain in a loop until all wrongs are righted. I'm ranting about it to friends, and I think about it day and night. On March 14th I vent about it in the tags of a related reblog, and this is the only instance of me talking about StH BB on my blog. Next morning I'm blocked by the event blog and over the next 2 weeks – by two more mods, while another mod speaks to me passively-aggressively in a shared Discord server. Then I'm shown a screenshot where one of the mods claims I offered my Ao3 to my artists (I didn't) and implies everyone who writes NSFW is dangerous. And then I receive a hate ask about the event, calling me "creepy"... All this time, my brain is still stuck in a loop, and let me tell you – it's not fun. It doesn't help that my first reaction to everything that makes me feel bad is always to assume I'm at fault for everything, and seeing how hostile people are to me, I'm drowning in self-blame. Without going into any more detail, it takes me 2 months and a lot of help to somewhat recover, so I finally send my reply to Headmod Chaz and receive one back:

If you got to this part, you know that half of Headmod Chaz's reply is simply untrue since there were no "multiple instances", and in any case I was never asked to keep quiet about my ban (and why should I?). I sent another reply a month later expressing my confusion and wondering when the messages will be removed (only my intro was removed). As of today, that reply is still ignored, and the messages aren't removed 🤷

And this is the entirety of my Sonic Big Bang 2024 experience. Now for some Q&A:

Why did you wait so long to make this post? I didn't want to put any participants under fire, particularly my friends because I'll admit, the mods seem like petty people. And also I was worried about throwing shade on other participants (people associating their works with this) or spoiling the event for people who were genuinely having fun with it. Thus, I waited until it was over!

Is this a callout post? According to definition as "public criticism or asking someone to explain their actions", I think it is – in terms of calling out bad management. It is definitely not a call for harassment. There is a reason I censored some names and left vague who reported me, blocked me, was hostile to me or spread rumours about me. Please don't bother anyone, and if the mods decide to engage with this, they can post their own statement.

Aside from the above reasons, why make a post at all? Two reasons: a personal one and an altruistic one. Firstly, I hope to get closure this way since I still feel like I was unjustly thrown away when I was just being a dutiful person. Secondly, while Headmod Chaz said they will be transparent about this rule next time they run an event, as you can see they fully ignored my suggestion of doing it now, and in general keeping a rule hidden to such an extent where you lie in your FAQ is pretty shady... I don't trust them not to do it again next year.

Is it okay to reblog the post/reply to it, what about sending an ask or a PM? I turned off the reblogs, but you can still reply or PM or send a non-anonymous ask (anonymous asks will be deleted because I want to be able to answer privately). If you decide to be negative or call me names, however, be prepared to be blocked by IP or username.

Finally, fun facts as promised 🔥

There are other participants out there who have had negative experiences with BB or were made uncomfortable by the way it was managed, but I'm not going to speak for them;

There was this whole thing with hypocrisy and possible favouritism;

Despite the mods insisting on ME being quiet about my ban, it's now known that they shared information about it outside the mod group;

Out of 6 mods: 5 have me blocked, 2 were passive-aggressive with 1 of them going as far as verbally lash out at me in DMs, and only 1 mod gave me a somewhat human apology before blocking me (not pictured in screenshots);

I saw 3 NSFW writers and at least 2 NSFW artists participating in BB just by scrolling through my dash, without seeking them out, and this is not counting people I noticed in the server prior to me being banned;

Some people are posting Mature and Explicit extras and sequels/prequels to their BB stories already;

The artist who reported me seems to have dropped out anyway;

There's a joke reason why I'm making a post, too: I have to earn being blocked from the event blog since they said they did it because of multiple instances of me talking about my removal;

For this post (and because one of their staff members is a former Big Bang mod), I was forever banned from participating in Chaos Quill Collection projects;

I'm actually grace and most of the time write my characters as aspec, and I'm exploring what sexuality and intimacy mean for me through writing, so this situation felt a little... like gatekeeping;

My fic was #48 under the title Chao Care 101, and I want you to give me a high five if you had it among your top choices 🖐

Originally, I wasn't going to complete my BB fic because it made me feel bad, but now I've decided I want to reclaim it, so I'm writing it now. Almost 8k words at the moment. It will be published. And it will be illustrated;

Meanwhile, what good came out of this disaster is Sonic Supernova 2025, and I recommend you all to keep an eye out for this inclusive Big Bang-like event 🌟

[bestanimal]

~ Round 3 is currently underway, with Acipenseriformes in the lead!

See poll schedule here ~

On a quest to find Tumblr’s favorite animal!

(Pictured is my personal favorite animal: the bearded vulture! Photo was taken by me… if you want to see more I post my photography on my instagram: SaritaWolf ;P)

Ever wondered how your favorite animal stacks up against other people’s favorites? Well you’ve come to the right place!

Here’s how this will work…

Polls will be ranked like so:

My fav is in this group!/This is one of my favorite animals!

I love these/this animal(s)

I like these/this animal(s)

I am neutral about these/this animal(s)

I dislike these/this animal(s)

I hate these/this animal(s)

If an animal is your favorite, it receives 5 points

If you love an animal, it receives 3 points

If you like an animal, it receives 1 point

If you are neutral about an animal, no points are added or subtracted to its ranking

If you dislike an animal, 1 point will be taken away

If you hate an animal, 3 points will be taken away

Note: As of Round 3, the hate option has been removed.

At the end of a polling period, that animal’s points will be its rank.

The top 20 or 50 or 100 or whatever (number to be decided on at a later date) will move on to the next round!

Polls will be open for 7 days

Since it’s not very feasible for me to make 1.5 million polls for every known species of animal, the first round of polls will be by Phylum, the next round will be by Class, then Order, then Family, then Genus, and then Species.

If you want your favs to make it to the top, make sure you know what group they’re in! This can be found via a quick Wikipedia search and a look-see right here (using the bearded vulture as an example):

The Bearded Vulture is in the Phylum Chordata, the Class Aves/Reptilia, the Order Accipitriformes, and the Genus Gypaetus, so now I know to vote for that group as my favorite when it comes up!

The top ranked Phyla will move on to the next round, where they will then be split into Classes, and Round 2 will begin.

Round 3 will take the winning classes and split them by Order, then follow the same pattern.

Round 4 will take the winning orders and split them by Family, then follow the same pattern.

Round 5 will take the winning families and split them by Genus, then follow the same pattern.

Round 6 will take the winning genera and split them by Species, then follow the same pattern.

The Ultimate Round will pit the top 20/50/100 (number also to be decided at a later date) species against each other.

If no clear photos exist of a species, preferably in situ, it will not be included in the polls. (So, if you’re a scientist who just discovered a new moth and it’s your favorite animal you better get those photos on iNaturalist quick)

You can have multiple favorites, I am not keeping track of that, but I do ask that you answer honestly!

I will add a bit of propaganda under a cut on each poll, but please feel free to reblog polls and add your own! If you want your fav(s) to win, these polls need to be seen by lots of people!

I do encourage people to not vote blindly. Look at the photos, read the propaganda, maybe even do your own research before you decide how you feel about an animal!

And lastly, please keep things civil! We all have different tastes and someone hating your fav is not a personal affront against you!

That being said, we do not “Kill it with fire” here. It’s ok to not like an animal, but we do not tolerate people calling for violence against a species or wishing a whole species extinct.

Important Tags:

#Animal Polls: All main polls

#Poll Results: Completed polls will be reblogged along with their calculated ranking

#Special Poll: Any extra polls

#Extra Propaganda: Any reblogged propaganda added by voters, or reblogs featuring the animals in the poll of the day

#Statistics: A stats post will be posted after each round

#Asks: For any responses to asks (my askbox is open!)

#FAQ: For questions that may come up often

#Extras: For any announcement posts, reblogs, etc

If you are enjoying the tournament and would like to leave a tip, it would be much appreciated!

[vigilante-3073]

Can you please write a sort of au imagine in which reader is instead of Lydia in the mayfield episode. She meets house when visiting someone and they fall in love but she isn’t married and when he gets the night pass he comes to see her and they do end up together

Interesting

Gregory House x Female Reader

Summary: While admitted to the psychiatric hospital, House encounters a patient's family member that interests him.

TW: Mentions of mental health/relationships.

S/N: Sister's name

House had been admitted to Mayfield Psychiatric Hospital for hallucinations that he had while on Vicodin. He pushed back against the hospital's operating procedures and acted out whenever he could. House was under the assumption that he could get what he wanted by being a menace.

When his approach did not prove fruitful, he gave up and began to steer into the skid. House took his pills, shared in group and surrendered himself to the process. He couldn't imagine what his life would look like without medicine. Doctor Nolan knew that and dangled House's medical license in front of him like a carrot on a stick.

House searched for unexplained phenomenon every day, always looking for an answer to the unanswered.

His fascination of the day was a young woman who came to visit another patient. The patient in question was a relatively young woman with a history of depression and suicidal tendencies.

The patient had been admitted to Mayfield for years with no release date in sight. The girl got better and then got worse, mood dropping even lower than it had been before.

Antidepressants didn't seem to have an effect on her, even with incredibly high dosages.

House discovered that the patient's name was S/N, the person who came to visit her was her older sister. Her sister's name was Y/N and she came to Mayfield every day without fail.

Y/N brought a folder of sheet music, she sat at the piano and played songs for her sister.

House heard the music and managed to sneak back into the building while everyone else was out in the yard. He lingered in the doorway, watching her fingers dance across the ivory keys and listening to the music.

S/N sat on the bench beside the piano, staring out the window as she listened to her sister play. Y/N finished the song, switching her sheet music around.

S/N looked over, spotting House in the doorway, "What do you want, House?" S/N spat. The ice in her tone reminded him that his rude comments were not forgotten when he changed his approach. Y/N turned around, looking between her sister and House nervously.

"I heard the music. Just wanted to see who was playing," House said.

"Sure you did. Get the hell out of here," S/N snapped.

House looked over at Y/N, "Leave the piano unlocked when you go," He said, reluctantly turning around and making his way down the stairs.

House hesitated when he heard a voice, "Who was that?" Y/N questioned softly.

"Some doctor guy, he's been here for a while but he's an ass. I want you to stay far away from him," S/N said.

"Maybe he's just going through a hard time, S/N. It took you a while to adjust when you were admitted here. You should give him the benefit of the doubt," Y/N said.

"I'd rather light myself on fire," S/N scoffed.

Y/N didn't reply, but he heard the piano music resume. She was good, he had to admit it.

House found himself standing on the stairs as he listened to her play. He had been desperately craving something and he hadn't been sure of what it was until now.

House missed music.

After the playing stopped, House walked back out to the yard. He sat on the bench beside Doctor Beasley as he waited for their outside time to come to an end.

"How long has Y/N been coming here?" He asked.

"Every day since her sister was admitted. Why?" Doctor Beasley asked.

House shrugged, "She seems nice," He stated.

"Are you insinuating that S/N isn't nice?" She asked.

"She hates my guts," House said.

"You haven't given her many reasons to change her view of you. Maybe that's something you could work on," Doctor Beasley suggested.

"Yeah, maybe," House muttered.

...

House attempted to improve his relationship with his fellow patients. Some of the patients accepted him easily, but S/N didn't.

S/N seemed to have some kind of sworn vendetta against House. He couldn't believe that one wayward comment he had tossed her way would have such a lasting effect.

It was clearly about something else.

S/N stood guard around her sister like a rabid pitbull, keeping House away. Y/N obviously noticed, but chose not to go against her sister's wishes.

Although, after she played for her sister, Y/N always left the piano unlocked for House.

He wasn't able to have many opportunities to play, but he appreciated Y/N giving him the chance. House continued to try his luck with S/N, but it felt like he was repeatedly walking into a brick wall.

House was determined and eventually an opportunity presented itself. Y/N was playing the piano as she usually did, but her sister was nowhere in sight.

House made his way over, "That's a complicated piece," He stated.

Y/N looked up at him, "Yeah, it took me a while to learn it," She said.

"Can I play you something?" House asked, Y/N nodded and slid over on the bench.

House leaned his cane on the wall before taking a seat next to her. He raised his hands, settling them over the keys with a content sigh as he began to play.

House's fingers moved across the ivory keys with practiced precision, eyes drifting closed as he listened to the music. House opened his eyes and lowered his hands when he finally finished playing.

"I've never heard that song before," Y/N said.

"I wrote it a long time ago," House stated.

"It was beautiful... I can really tell that you have a passion for music," Y/N said.

"I wish I was able to play more, but whenever I try they lock the damn thing again," House replied.

"I'm sorry... I tried to leave it open for you," Y/N said.

"I know and I've been meaning to thank you for that. I would've done it sooner if your sister didn't hate my guts," House smiled.

"S/N is going through some stuff right now. She's not always like that," Y/N assured.

"You spend a lot of time making excuses for the people around you," House stated.

Y/N scoffed slightly, "I didn't realize that was a bad thing," She said.

"It's not... It's just interesting. You're a person who's overly forgiving of others, but enormously critical of yourself," House said.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why that's interesting," Y/N admitted.

"You're willing to give everything you've got until you have nothing left. It's selfless and stupid," House said.

Y/N reached out and closed the lid of the piano before standing from the bench. She picked up her purse and made her way towards the exit.

"Wait," House called. Y/N paused and turned towards him, "I'm sorry... Please stay," He said.

She hesitated, "Alright, I'll stay. But you have to be nice, okay?" Y/N questioned.

"Deal," House nodded.

Y/N sat back down at the piano, they talked and played for another hour before she had to leave. House found himself waiting for her every day, listening for the music and hoping that he could steal a moment alone with her.

S/N had started a new medication and was sleeping for the majority of the next few weeks. Her mood was turbulent and she didn't want to see her sister. The doctors were working on the dosing for her medications but House didn't care. In all honesty, he was grateful for every hour that he got to spend with Y/N.

House was falling for her and it caught him by surprise. Y/N had become a steady and reliable presence in his life, she radiated the warmth and kindness that House desperately needed.

They spent hours together at the piano, playing and talking until they knew absolutely everything about each other.

House was in love with this woman.

It was a love that had previously been unknown to him. He wasn't being numbed by pain pills and alcohol, he felt everything and he wanted to feel that way every day.

They spent yet another day talking at the piano and House couldn't hold himself back. Y/N was beautiful, hair falling into her face as she smiled widely at something he said. House reached out, tucking the strand of hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek in his hand.

House leaned in, cutting her off by pressing his lips to her's in a gentle kiss. Y/N's eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into him, moving her lips hesitantly against his.

Y/N pulled away suddenly, a panicked look appeared on her face as she stood up and grabbed her bag. Y/N made her way towards the exit, keeping her eyes downcast as she went.

"Y/N, wait," House called, standing up and limping after her. He caught her wrist and turned her to face himself, suddenly confused when he saw the tears in her eyes.

"Why are you running?" He asked.

"We can't do this. You're not healthy right now and I shouldn't be taking advantage of you," Y/N stated.

"What are you talking about? I kissed you. I want this, I want you," House assured.

"You don't know what you want, House, but I do know that it's not me... I'm sorry," She mumbled, pulling her wrist from his grasp and walking out.

...

Y/N hadn't been back to the hospital since and House found himself wondering where it had all gone wrong. He missed her. House missed her more than anything and it hurt.

House found himself watching S/N over the next few weeks. Her medications had finally been stabilized and she was like a completely different person.

S/N shared in group, she finished her meals and she was genuinely happy. House felt a pit form in his stomach when yet another sheet cake was wheeled into the common room.

"Today we're here to congratulate... S/N!" Doctor Beasley said, gesturing to the young woman beside her.

S/N smiled as the room erupted in supportive applause and cheers, "We're proud of her! We wish her well and we hope to-," Doctor Beasley started.

"Never see her again!" Everyone chimed in.

S/N leaned forward and blew out the candle, smiling widely as she looked at the people around her.

House left the celebration quickly, making his way down the hallway and into Doctor Nolan's office. He moved over to the desk, "What can I do for you, House?" Doctor Nolan asked, setting his pen down.

"I want an overnight pass," House stated.

Doctor Nolan stared at him for a moment, "You're going to see Y/N, aren't you?" He asked.

House shifted on his feet, "Why do you care where I go?" He asked.

"I'll give you the pass if you really want it, but Y/N was right to do what she did... You came here to work on yourself and you can't do that if you're leaning heavily on someone else," Doctor Nolan said.

"I know... But I can't let her go," House stated.

"Alright," Doctor Nolan nodded.

House left the office after Doctor Nolan promised to have the documentation ready in under an hour. House quickly located S/N in the common room, he wasn't sure how she felt about him but he still approached her.

House sat on the bench beside her, he stared ahead as he tapped his cane on the ground.

"Is there something you need from me, House?" S/N asked, the lack of malice in her tone was comforting.

"I'm in love with your sister," He stated.

S/N huffed a laugh, "I know, you idiot," She said.

House looked over at her, "She told you?" He asked.

"Of course she did. She tells me everything," S/N said.

"Does everything include how she feels about me?" House asked.

"That sounds really desperate to ask, but yeah. She likes you," S/N said.

"Can you tell me where I can find her?" House asked.

"Did you get an overnight pass or something?" She asked.

House didn't reply and S/N smiled, "Oh my god, you did... And you want to go see my sister, you dirty dog," She teased.

"Can you just give me an address?" House asked.

"Fine, but be good to her, okay?" S/N said, he nodded.

She opened her journal, scribbling down the address and tearing the page out. S/N handed it to House and the next thing he knew, he was standing on Y/N's doorstep.

House knocked and took a steadying breath as he saw movement inside. Y/N opened the door, "House? What are you doing here?" She asked.

"I got a pass and your sister gave me your address," He said.

"She did?" Y/N questioned, House nodded.

"I love you, Y/N... I didn't expect to fall in love with you but I did and I can't imagine my life without you in it," House stated.

"Do you really mean that?" Y/N asked softly.

"I do," House said.

Y/N stepped forward, cupping his cheeks in her hands and pressing her lips to his. House wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close to himself as they kissed.

Y/N pulled away, breathing heavily as she looked at him, "I love you too, House," She said.

"I know... Your sister may have told me that too," He smiled.

Y/N smiled back, "Will you get in trouble if you stay here tonight?" She asked.

"I wouldn't care if I did," House stated. Y/N backed up in her house and took his hand, pulling him inside with her.

The rest of the night was a blur of abandoned clothing and gentle touches, lips against skin as they spent the night together.

House laid on his back with Y/N by his side, her head was rested on his chest and her leg slipped between his. House dragged his fingertips over the bare skin of her back, watching as morning sunlight began to fill the room.

"When do you have to go back?" Y/N asked softly.

"I have a few hours," House said.

"I bring S/N back home today. I can drive you back," Y/N said, House nodded.

"Would you be willing to come and visit me at Mayfield until I'm released?" House asked.

"Of course," She said easily.

There was a part of him that felt guilty. He wondered if he was taking advantage of her kindness, but he wanted to see her and hold her for as long as he possibly could. He could stand to be a little selfish with her.

Life was short and he needed to start living.

"I love you," House said.

"I love you too, House," Y/N smiled.

Things were easy with her and it made House feel like he could handle life without pills. House knew that Wilson would probably not approve of the relationship, but he didn't care. House had finally found someone that he could see a future with and he was excited.

[tune-on-in-folks]

This is a rewrite of an earlier draft, just in time before midnight lmao. Enjoy day 5, where Vox hypnotizes you.

Tags/Warnings: Hypnosis, questionable consent, dub-con sorta, fem!reader, p in v, masturbation, multiple orgasms for both parties, photo taking Word Count: 2,095

Vox had discovered early into knowing you that he couldn't hypnotize you. At first it had frustrated him to no end. How was it that there was someone else who could resist his hypnosis? You weren't even an Overlord! He could at least hypnotize Valentino... So what made you different?

It was a question that faded away as he got to know you. You were intelligent, not as weak-willed as most of the Sinners in Pentagram City. It was only natural that you could resist his hypnosis. Still, a deep part of him was completely miffed at it. He prided himself in his powers, after all.

He was watching some mindless show with you beside him on the couch when you spoke up.

“How would you feel about hypnotizing me?” Your voice was soft, curiosity clear in your voice.

Vox paused his show, turning to look at you, his eyes searching your face. “My hypnosis doesn't work on you.”

He didn't know why you were asking him how he felt about it when you both knew you weren’t susceptible.

You roll your eyes, “Just answer the question.”

He raised an eyebrow but thought about it. “I don’t really have a need to hypnotize you, babydoll. So I don’t know how I’d feel about it. Why?”

You shift onto your knees, shuffling over to settle onto his lap. “You could hypnotize me. It hasn’t worked before because I’ve never given you my consent to do so before.”

You press a soft kiss against his lips, “There’s always a level of consent to it, you can’t make me do something I don’t want to do.”

He returns your kiss, his hands moving to your waist, holding you against him. “What I’m hearing is that I can actually hypnotize you?”

You nod, kissing down his neck. “Correcto! I give you my consent and you can hypnotize me. So…what do you think about hypnotizing me?”

He thinks for a second, his fingers idly playing with the hem of your shirt. You press kisses against his neck, nibbling here and there.

Vox groans, “In what context are you asking me, doll?”

You pull back, meeting his gaze. “Well you see…I kind of have a hypnosis kink. So in the context of us… having sex.”

He blinks in surprise, a shocked chuckle escaping him. “You have a hypnosis kink and you’re only telling me this now?”

You nod, “I am. I trust you, Vox. Enough to surrender my mind to you and let you do whatever the fuck you want…well to an extent. You can’t do anything to me that I don’t want on some subconscious level.”

A soft blush covers his screen and you can feel his cock twitching to life beneath you at the thought. “Shit, baby. I wasn’t expecting this from you.”

You giggle, pressing another soft kiss against his lips. “Well? Do you want to?”

“Uh, fuck yes?” He responds, his smile widening. “Come on babydoll, surrender your mind to me.”

You roll your eyes at his words but meet his gaze. His left eye starts to swirl with his hypnotic powers. You take a deep breath, relaxing in his arms. You trusted Vox not to abuse what you were offering and with that, you gave your consent. His powers seeped into your mind, blanketing it with a hazy fog. Your body relaxed against him, slumping slightly. Vox watched you carefully, taking note of how your eyes were taken over with the red and black spirals of his powers. How your body relaxed against him. The sight was alluring. He could almost get drunk on the sight of you, knowing you were compliant to him.

“What to do, what to do…” he muses, rubbing at the bottom of his screen, as though rubbing his chin.

Deciding to test the waters he suggests, “Stand up.”

You do so immediately, climbing off his lap to stand before him. Vox looked up at you, letting his hands fall from your hips. He could make you do a lot. Not everything, and certainly nothing against your subconscious boundaries. But a lot.

Still he asks, “You said there's a level of consent…that means I can't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with, correct?”

You nod, your voice low, “correct.”

“And if I suggest something that you don’t like?”

“I’ll wake up.” Came your reply.

He nods, “Okay.. then how about you strip for me, doll?”

Vox watches, entranced, as you began to strip. Your shirt dropped to the floor, your pants following. He bit his bottom lip, watching you shimmy out your panties and pull off your bra. His eyes raked down your body slowly, taking in your curves. The way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He reached for his belt, freeing himself from the confines of his pants. He was hard to an almost painful extent, precum leaking down his cock.

“How long have you wanted me to hypnotize you and fuck you?” He asked, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock.

“Months.” You murmur, your eyes locking in on his cock.

He smirks, “Did you touch yourself thinking about me using you?”

You nod, your legs pressing together as your arousal builds. “Yes.”

“Shit.” He says, beginning to pump his cock slowly. “Show me how you touched yourself.”

You moved immediately, your hand sliding down in between your legs. You gathered up the slick from your cunt, dragging it up to swirl around your clit. Your other hand circled your nipples, pinching the hardening buds. You slipped your fingers lower, slipping them inside you.

Vox felt himself getting harder, his hand moving a little faster on his cock.

“Bring yourself to orgasm, babydoll.”

He watched as your efforts doubled, loud moans spilling from your lips. You stood in the middle of the living room, pleasuring yourself for him. It was almost too much. You cried out, your body jerking as you came around your own fingers.

“Stop.” He requested, watching you pull your fingers from your dripping hole.

He sat back, his hand stalling around his cock. “Come here and staddle me.”

You followed his command, climbing back onto his lap, his cock brushing against your entrance. Vox grasped your hips again, lining you up before pulling you down onto his cock. He groaned, clenching his teeth as your tight pussy enveloped him.

He was ready to up the ante, “You want me to keep fucking you, no matter how sensitive you are. You feel empty without my cock inside you. You will do anything to get me to keep fucking you. Understand?”

You bite back a whimper, nodding desperately. “Yes.”

He pulled you down into a kiss, rolling his hips into you slowly, “fuck, doll, you’re so wet for me.”

He moved you up and down his cock, slowly fucking into you. His pace picked up, his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit. Your head fell back, your body taking over his movements to bounce on his cock.

“That’s it.” He mutters, kissing down your neck.

He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking softly. Vox moves from nipple to nipple, relishing in your moans. The sound of him fucking into you filled the air obscenely. He pulled back, watching as you fucked yourself on his cock.

“You look so beautiful. So dumb and compliant on my cock. Not a thought in that smart head of yours right now, is there?”

You shake your head no, your body tensing as you grow closer to another release.

Vox stopped his thrusts, his hands tightening around you, stopping you from moving. You cried out, confusion and frustration filling you.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“No!” You respond quickly, your mind wanting him to continue fucking you. “Please!”

He chuckled, realizing his suggestion was working. Vox resumed his thrusts, rolling up against you.

“Go on, doll. You can fuck yourself on my cock.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, your hands tightening against his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. Your movements begin again, your pace in time with his. It wasn’t long before your orgasm was rising up again. Your walls fluttered around him, drawing a guttural groan from Vox.

“Cum for me.” He mutters, his hips snapping up into you sharply, his thumb pressing a little harder against your clit.

Your body quakes as your release hits you hard. Your head falls forward against his chest, your body still moving automatically.

“Vox!” You whine, your walls squeezing his cock tightly.

“Fucccck.” He groans, his breathing ragged as his own release hits him unexpectedly.

He drags you down onto him, thrusting up into you as deep as he can go as he cums. He stills after a moment, catching his breath. It takes him a moment to calm down when he sees you wiggling desperately.

He chuckles, “You want me to keep fucking you, babydoll?”

You nod, “Yes, please. Please keep fucking me, Vox.”

He rolls his hips against you once more, his cock hardening again. He lifts you off his lap, a whine escaping your lips at the loss of his cock.

“Lay down on the couch and hold your knees to your chest.” He demands.

He watches as you move. You lay down, bringing your knees to your chest and holding them there. Vox settles in between your legs, sliding back inside you. The position let him slide deeper inside you, his cock-head kissing against your cervix.

“You look so beautiful like this…Can I take a photo?”

You bite your lip but nod. Vox’s eyes widened, not having expected you to say yes. He pulls his phone from his pants, still hanging loosely around his waist. He snaps a picture of you. He was cock balls deep inside you, pressing you down in a mating press.

He fumbles slightly, sending you the photo. Your phone dings on the coffee table as he tosses his aside. Vox rolls his hips down against you, slowly picking up speed with every pass.

His voice glitches, “Fuccck.”

Vox leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his body pressing even deeper inside of you. A mewl tears from your lips at the sensation, your walls fluttering around his cock once again. Another orgasm was building in your gut, swirling tighter and tighter.

“Going to cum inside you, doll.” Vox gasps, his pace bruising. “Can you give me one more release?”

You nod, “y-yes.”

He chuckles, seeing that, despite your hypnosis, you had learned your lesson in not responding to his questions. His hips slapped into you harshly with every rough thrust of his, sending you closer and closer to your inevitable release. Your arms reached around his back, pulling him tighter against you.

“Please.” You whimper, “Please.”

“Please, what?” He prompts.

“Cum inside me.” You whine, “I need to feel you, Vox. Please, please, please.”

He smiles, his hips stuttering at your begging. “Cum for me one more time, babydoll and then I’ll give you what you want.”

His hand slipped in between your bodies, finding your clit again. Vox had barely touched you when you cried out, your release crashing down over you.

“That’s it.” He praises, “So good, so good for me.”

His pace never slows down despite how tightly your walls clenched around his cock.

“Just like that….oh fuUUCCK!” His voice glitched out, a party noisemaker sound emitting from his speakers as he came.

His hot cum splashed against your cervix, filling you up. Vox slowed down his thrusts, idly fucking his cum deeper into you. You mewled at the sensation, your body overly sensitive. He came to a stop, his eyes meeting yours.

“Wake for me, doll.” He whispers, watching the swirls fade from your eyes.

You blinked up at Vox, the haze falling away from your mind. You both were panting from the exertion. Vox slowly pulled out of you, the sensation causing you to mewl. He helped you sit up.

“You did so good for me, baby. Do you…remember any of that?”

You take a moment to catch your breath before confirming, “I do.”

Vox stands offering you his hand, “Let’s go clean up, hmm?”

You smile, taking his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “Thank you, for not abusing the trust I gave you.”

Vox’s expression softens, “I’d never. Now let’s get you cleaned up and then maybe I’ll take you out to dinner. Sound good?”

Your smile widens, your eyes shining with adoration for the Overlord. “Yeah, that sounds good, my love.”

[libraryraccoon]

The Aeon Of Creation : Surprise ?

P1 (here) -> P2 (coming soon)

TW : English isn't my first language, bad english. Spoil Penacony quests.

Gender : Male/GN

Pronouns used : He/They

Info : I was sad when I haven't found any hsr sahsr au, so I decided to write one.

There was an Aeon that everyone know in the universe.

The first Aeon that have been appeared, The Aeon Of Creation.

It’s said that The Aeon Of Creation was the first being that had appear, that it’s them that have create the universe, the worlds, and that have created the others Aeons. That it’s them that say who can be an Aeon.

But no one has seen them for a while now. Even the others Aeons were worried, even Nanook.

It’s only decades later that a trailblazer saw them.

<----->

His name was Caelus, he was in a dream at Penacony when he meet them.

They seems so familiar, but also they seems like a stranger.

“Excuse me.” Said the grey hair, looking at the h/c hair. “Have we met before ?”

They had h/l h/c hair, e/c, s/c, and they were wearing a white shirt with a sleeveless sweater on top, a trench coat, black pants and shoes.

They had a men body, and they look like a men in every way. But, more Caelus was watching them, more they don’t seems to be human, and more they remember him someone- but he don’t know who.

It was.. strange.

“Maybe yes, maybe no.. Who know ?” ask the person-thing. “I'm sorry, I have a bad memory."

They were lying, Caelus didn’t know how, but he just know it.

He hate when people lie to him.

“I’m Y/N and my pronouns are he/him. Just a person traveling in the universe. Nice to meet you.” He introduced himself lifting his hat a little in a sort of reverence- since when did he have a hat ?!

Caelus ask no question -he was used to things like that.

“I’m Caelus, a nameless.” He said, Compared to usual, he didn't make a joke or show off like he usually did. He didn’t really think about it at that moment.

<----->

Caelus was often with Y/N.

They was what we can called ‘best friend’.

Every time Caelus was in Penacony, he would go straight to Y/N.

Y/N gave off a sort of comforting and familiar aura. One that he found difficult to part with. Maybe the reason he clung so tightly to his friend was to avoid a repeat of Firefly, to protect him. Caelus didn't know, and he didn't search for an answer, focusing on the present.

“Caelus ! Do attention ! I swear one day you will die soon if you continue like that !” His friend swore as Caelus passed on the road to join him, not paying attention to the passing cars, almost being run over by one.

Caelus only give a nervous laugh at that.

<----->

Being the Aeon of Creation for them was boring.

They knew everything, having nothing to learn. That annoyed them. They wanted to learn, to discover things.

But with their creations worshiping them, some much, MUCH, more than others, it was impossible. So they took a human form and visited the planets, the worlds, that they had created from another point of view.

<----->

Humans were very attached to all this gender and sex stuff, so they took on a masculine appearance and he/him pronouns. Like that, they really look like the other humans ! Well, except for their blood. They had a blood that was like the universe, no, that was like their blood was the universe ! Just like their tears. And it's never touching the ground, disappearing in the air. They had to be careful for not being hurt or crying in front of people (but why and how they know their tears colors ?)

They was travelling alone until they meet him.

He was a boy with short grey hair and yellow eyes. His name was Akivili.

They traveled the universe together, in the Express.

Akivili was their first friend, their first best friend,

Their first love.

They were really closed, and the Aeon realized too late that they were falling for him.

The day they wanted to confess, Akivili disappeared.

The Aeon of Creation have done all for finding him, but always in a human form, they didn’t want people to realize who they was.

And, one day, in a dream they meet someone that look like Akivili.

His name was Caelus, a nameless, just like Akivili.

The Aeon of Creation thought that maybe, just maybe, he was Akivili, a reincarnation, or a descendant of him. They were sure the two were related.

Especially that he have the name Akivili wanted to give to his son.

The day before the Creator turn Akivili into an Aeon.

“Hey, if one day you have a kid, what name will you give them ?” ask Akivili.

“Huh- I don’t know ?” said the Aeon confused. They thought about how everyone always gives two names to this question, one feminine and one masculine. “Aether if it’s a boy and Stelle if it’s a girl.”

“Great names. You’re always creatives for names.” Said the mortal.

“And you ?”

“Caelus if it’s a boy and Lumine if it’s a girl.” Akivili answer easily.

Akivili always had something for picking great name.

It’s him who gave them the name Y/N after all. 

So, for knowing who really Caelus was, they decided to stay with him.

Of what they had understood, he lost a dear friend, so Y/N helped him at the same time with all his grief thing.

And that worked ! Well, in a way ?

Caelus was feeling better now that Y/N was here, but he was what mortals called ‘clingy’.

The Aeon found that funny – Akivili was always clingy with them when he was tired. So that make them think of the past.

They was happy to compare Caelus to Akivili, making some theories about it, and not to some creep that prayed them..

Maybe The Aeon Of Creations have what mortals called a trauma caused by a few of their believers.

<----->

The Aeon Of Creation is traumatized of all this Sagau imposter AU/j I thought making the creator having a universe color blood and tears will be funny because, you know, they created it- The Creator thinking Caelus is Akivili is an idea that would hurt when it will be more developed.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

“ cuddle–bugs. ,,

(( REQUEST FINAL PART. ))

mcu!peter parker x reader.

!!! read parts one | two | three | four here !!!

IN WHICH — the avengers wouldn’t let you and your best friend live down cuddling on the couch, but after an intense mission, you realized confessing to him was the only thing left to do.

✨masterlist✨.

2.1k.

Peter woke up suddenly, gasping, cold. Cold and unsettled, with heavy breath and urgency. He woke up recalling that Bucky made him leave you in the medical wing, knowing that he needed to get sleep. He remembered just how much he resisted, just how much he wanted to stay by your side. But the team knew he needed to rest just as much as you did. Still, he woke up knowing damn well that he needed to make sure you were alright.

Were you alright?

The question sent a splintering shiver down his spine, giving him only more motive to toss off his covers and get out of bed.

Stumbling to his feet, Peter fully fathomed just how much of a blur the past few days had been. He had nearly forgotten about how teasing Sam and the team had been, or just how nervous he was that his best friend was slipping through his fingers. He was practically in denial that the two of you hadn’t been on speaking terms before this mission.

Now, Peter was nervous for other reasons that you were slipping through his fingers.

Bruce had discovered just how lethal this winter–kissed poison was in the midst of you being unconscious. He’d said that the antidote wasn’t entirely stable yet, either. But it was between giving the antidote to you raw, or risking that your bloodstream freeze overnight. Either choice was a gamble.

So when Peter came across your empty bed in the infirmary, he was met with a sigh of relief. Still, he was restless as ever. He wouldn’t ease until he knew you were okay. Until he saw you for himself.

He peeled his head through the neckline of his crewneck, shaking off the chill of December as he walked. He paced down the empty early morning halls of the compound, each step quicker than the last as he searched for you. It wasn’t long before he found you, seated on the couch in the meeting room. The two of you met eyes immediately.

“What are you doing awake?” Both of you asked in unison, equally concerned for the other.

You stood from the couch, slow and sickly. You watched Peter as he stood beside you, arms carefully corralling around you in case you were to topple over. He seemed more focused on you than answering the question at hand. So, you answered first. “It was getting stuffy in there. I couldn’t sleep.”

Taking in Peter, you could tell he at least got a little bit of sleep. His curls spouted in eight different directions and his body still radiated the warmth of his covers. Despite how much his eyes studied you, they looked weighted by the ghosts of slumber. You could tell he was fighting them off. His presence was a lot more alert than anticipated for someone who’d just gotten shut–eye.

“Peter, why aren’t you sleeping?” Your voice came out gentle, eyes tracing him with worry. You, too, disregarded just how bitter the taste of his name had been for the past day. You’d forgotten that he said what he did, and quite frankly, you didn’t care anymore. Death seemed more hefty than a mere misunderstanding.

He blinked away the remainder of slumber, his body weight drawing closer to you. Perhaps it was the thickness of night, or just how dark the room was, but you could see just how little the space was between you. Inches kept you apart, but your warmth kept drawing the two of you together.

“I had to make sure you were okay.” Peter replied, his tone soft and sincere. He went to grab your shoulders, but he found himself tensing a bit at the contact. His eyes glanced down your body before catching your stare again. “You’re still cold..” His voice came out barely above a whisper just before tracing his hands down your arms slowly and cupping them around your own. He never broke eye contact as he breathed into them, trying to warm you up as best as he could.

The effort didn’t really change much about your condition, but the thought of it did warm your heart with how sweet it was. Then and there, through the dark, you swore you could see it. You could’ve sworn that he looked at you with admiration. You swore he looked at you lovingly. It was a look that shoved away every insecurity you had. The look reminded you of the vow you had made yourself the night before.

Taking a breath, you bit back your nervousness. “Peter, I need to tell you something.” Your voice almost came out a mere breath, but you could still hear the fragile nature of your tone.

The look Peter caught in his eye gave you the courage to keep going. “Yeah, anything.” His voice was so earnest, you could’ve kissed him right there.

However, you didn’t. The race of your heart and the shakiness coating your throat were already too much to handle. You swallowed your pride, needing to rip the bandaid off.

“Peter.” You took a beat, glancing from either of his eyes to try and gage his reaction. “I love you.”

And there, he smiled. Peter smiled at you in a way you wish you had photographed. He let out a small chuckle, squeezing your hands in his. “I love you too.”

You realized of course. Of course, Peter loved you. The two of you were best friends, and had been for as long as you could remember. Of course he loved you. And you did love him platonically, too. That just made all the more difference now to make sure he understood what you meant.

A smile touched your lips, letting out a gentle laugh. “Right. And I love you for that.” You started, “But I–” The words got caught in your teeth, hesitating. “The thing is, uh–” Should you even tell him? Was the friendship worth risking? Well, fuck, the words were already halfway out of your mouth. “Well, the difference is..” You made sure to breathe, “I’m kind of, sort of, a little in love with you.”

A shift. The air changed, and you felt it. You watched as Peter’s expression shifted, his eyes widening and his posture straightening out. All you felt inside was a scolding rush of panic. Watching the way his lips parted, you startled, just knowing that he was going to reject you.

So you kept talking.

“– And I don’t want it to change anything in the friendship!” Shit, you were talking fast. “In fact, if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine! Just don’t say anything and I’ll be on my way and we can just forget about everything in the morning!”

Peter squeezed his hands around yours again, his lips curling. “Y/N, I–”

You kept going.

“And—And with Harley–” You laughed a little, “God, I’m so sorry.” Head shaking, body quaking, panic still running rampant; you couldn’t think. “I just got so hurt that you didn’t want to kiss me, and I think I just wanted to make you jealous? But it’s stupid. You shouldn’t have to kiss me, or force yourself to, and sure as hell you shouldn’t get forced into a mission just to—”

Nerves had clouded your senses as you spewed off explanations, so much so that you hadn’t noticed just how close Peter got to you. You weren’t sure whether it was the feeling of Peter tracing his hands back up your arms that cut you off, or the feeling of his palms cupping your face. You stared up at him, scanning his face for any hint or look of detest or rejection.

What you found was the opposite. His hands cradled your jaw carefully, and Peter looked at you like the words he heard were ones taken right from his tongue. He looked at you with genuine wholeheartedness, and it made you feel like there was nowhere else you would rather be than right there in his touch.

“I do want to kiss you.” The words were so smooth, you swore he’d rehearsed it. It made your cheeks flush, not only because you were flattered, but it also felt a bit humiliating to have kept rambling when he could’ve just said so.

You stared at him, eyes widening for a second. “Oh.” Was all you could muster, quickly captured by the sight of his lips so close to yours. Perhaps, it was Peter who leaned in to close the gap, but you felt so eager to kiss him that you couldn’t keep track.

Kissing. You and Peter Parker were actually kissing. Finally. It was all smiles and sincerity and sickly sweetness. Hands around his body, holding each other close, it was absolutely beyond everything you could’ve dreamt for. It was perfect.

Peter broke back from the kiss, looking at you with a grin that said everything you wanted to. You both shared the same feeling, and it was wonderful.

“The thought I was planning to tell Sam the other day was that I didn’t want the whole team watching the first time we kissed.” His words immediately warmed your heart, and made you feel a little foolish for not hearing him out sooner. “I didn’t want our first kiss to have an audience.”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

The voice startled you so bad, you stared out at the figure like a deer in headlights– Well, it wasn’t exactly headlights, more than shuttered flash from a cellphone camera.

Shit.

Blinded from the light for a second, it didn’t take you more than a second to recognize the voice as Sam, and to notice that he was accompanied by someone. You heard Bucky chuckle beside him, looking at the photo. “That’s a good one.” He stated, “I’m making that my lockscreen.”

You and Peter held each other, in the dark, both looking out at Sam and Bucky. You both took the moment to catch your startled breaths.

“As much as I’m happy for you two love birds, could y’all keep it down?” Sam kept his voice quiet, yet still had a stern tone to it. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Yes sir!” Peter spat out quickly.

Sam and Bucky left soon after, both saying hushed goodnights before heading off to their rooms. You and Peter shared a silent laugh before Peter took your hand and guided you back to his room where the two of you could sleep. Together.

Which brought you to Christmas morning.

The entire team sat around the meeting room, opening gifts and sipping hot beverages. They were all gleeful and filled with gratitude. It felt so peaceful and warming to be a part of the Avengers. Which made it all the more conflicting when Sam handed out his gifts for you to open.

You held the large boxy gift in your hand, unsure whether to feel nervous or not to open it in front of the team. Still, when everyone else started to open their presents, you felt a bit left out.

Once the wrapping paper tore off your gift, you saw the photo Sam took of you and Peter in the thick of night, clinging to each other and staring at the camera in shock and surprise. The photo made you laugh, giggling to yourself as you read the post–it note stuck to the bottom.

‘Glad I could help you out ;)’

You fought back an eye roll before Peter called out to you across the circle.

He smiled at you, “Y/N, you gotta see this!” Peter gestured to the box on his lap. Curious, and mirroring his smile, you stood from your seat and walked over.

Confusion met your face when you saw that the small box was empty. “What exactly am I looking at?” Meeting his stare, you noticed the hand he stretched up above you, holding a piece of mistletoe overtop of the two of you. You didn’t even take a second before leaning down and kissing him, not caring who was paying mine to you.

You could hear some audible reactions from the group, some encouraging, and one annoyed and childish grimace from a little ways away.

“You and your cuddle–bug boyfriend need to get a room.” Bucky spoke with distaste. You and Peter both stretched your arms out to flip him off, kissing just a little more to get on his nerves.

“Shut the hell up, Bucky!” Sam responded back. You could feel the way that Peter smiled from the comment, laughing quietly.

Sam was right. He’s definitely invited to the wedding.

tag–list: @helen-on-earth @ellebutnotwoods @hufflepuff-n-fluff @petersparkerss @tommysfrog @zelzablues @mavex @thatmarvelchick19 @parkersmaterialgirl @justtuesdays @coralineyouareinterribledanger @abucketofweird @thievin-stealing @hawkinsavclub1983

[where-dreamers-go]

I love your Dbh Connor writing 😍 can you please write something (if you'd like) in his pov of him realizing he *feels* for the reader, though he'd likely not know what that entails and what to call it. Just something introspective exploring his inner logic when it comes to his newfound deviancy? Thanks so much ❤️ I hope life treats you well!

“Feelings And Deviancy” Rk800 Connor x Reader

(A/N: Awh! I’m glad you’re enjoying them. Here’s a little something where Connor finds himself in a new routine with feelings he can’t pinpoint just yet. Warnings: Use of (Y/N) for your name. Word Count: 1,072 words)

Detroit held much to be discovered, especially when living was a new concept.

No more demonstrations or frantic humans in the streets.

It was almost quieter.

Connor took up walking to explore the city upon his deviancy. To rediscover the world.

Androids and humans were coexisting again. Nothing was perfect. Never was.

On one of his walking routes he had noticed a change. More life in a small bookstore beside an always popular coffee shop. The display window no longer appeared as a physical advertisement or thumbnail. No longer the attention-seeking images. Lined, stacked, and decorated with air plants were books. Physical books. Yes, there were always tablets for sale, but the display was not leveled. Nothing about it was symmetrical.

He was compelled to enter.

That was two months and two days ago.

Blinking, Connor found himself there again. The colorful bookshop in the shadow of quick service caffeine. He stood in front of the display. New books had been added, angled to show their spines, designed in detail to allude to the story’s tone.

Spying movement from inside, Connor moved to open the door and entered.

Familiar bookcases remained in their usual placements. Each shelf neatly arranged with books categorized by genre, author, and title. The usual.

I wouldn’t expect anything less.

Connor urged himself to search by sight and not scan. To take his time was a skill in need of practicing.

Light display flickering to yellow, he stepped further into the shop. He wasn’t alone inside. Towards the back, a couple of older individuals could be heard in hushed tones. They were regulars, almost every Friday.

He’s probably holding a stack of books for her again.

Connor found himself doing the same; visiting every Wednesday and Friday. Creating another routine.

What interest could a deviated android have in a bookshop?

Connor pondered on that question each day. Every time he would picture you instead of a simple answer. A connection to books, stories, and knowledge. The person responsible for decorating the shop’s window.

He found a particular interest in you, one of the shop’s employees. It started the first day you greeted him with your friendly smile and had yet to be stored away.

“Connor, hi.” Stepping around a table display, you waved to him while balancing three volumes in your other hand.

“Hello (Y/N).” He smiled, feeling something akin to happiness.

“How are you?”

Opening his mouth, ready to respond, Connor said nothing.

What was a truthful answer?

Connor sure wanted to know.

I am functioning properly, Connor thought. I’m not feeling any negative emotions. But they don’t want to hear that.

“I’m well.” He answered. “Thank you for asking.”

“No problem. I’m glad you’re well.”

At your smile, Connor took notice of his thirium pump increasing its speed. Something he was trying to look into over the past few weeks.

“How are you? Do you need help with anything?”

You laughed lightly and shook your head. “I’m pretty good.” Stepping over to the main counter, you added, “I can handle a few books. Just double checking these are in shelves too. Someone’s doing a pickup later. But thank you for asking. Again.” You sent him a teasing smile.

“Oh.” Connor stood still beside the counter, eyes downcast.

Embarrassment, he knew that emotion. Connor knew how it felt and it wasn’t his favorite. Feeling it while around you made him want to reset his system.

Do I ask to help them every time I’m here? Connor thought back to previous encounters and his embarrassment grew. I’m being polite. He urged himself to be more neutral with the fact of him wanting to help you.

Why wouldn’t he want to help you?

You were kind, had a good work ethic, and you made time to talk with him.

Connor appreciated you.

He appreciated other too, but he didn’t find himself trying to consistently learn their interests. That happened when he was with you, asking you handfuls of questions.

The more Connor learned about you, the more he could talk to you. Information one could not find online or in databases. Time one could not simulate.

“So what brings you here today, mister questions?” You inquired as you walked around the counter. Pulling out a tote bag, you placed the books inside one by one.

The corners of Connor’s lips lifted. A jolt of something registered through him. Not physical. An emotion that made him want to remain standing in your presence and perhaps hear you give him another nickname.

“I was wondering…”

You hummed shortly, letting him know you were listening.

“If there was a book you think I should read.”

Your eyes lit up in joyous surprise. “A million times yes.” You rushed out from around the counter and headed between a row of bookshelves.

Connor followed after you without hesitation.

“I don’t think I can just pick one,” you stated with two books in hand already. “So you have some options.”

“That’s great. Thank you.”

You sent him a smile over your shoulder. Then you resumed scanning the shelves, not wanting to miss a book you had in mind for him.

Knowing you already had options for him made Connor smile endlessly.

You thought of him.

They’re thorough. Connor thought as he got lost in watching you search.

Connor had never been around someone who he felt such a variety of emotions for. Deviancy hadn’t lasted long enough for him to name them all.

How could he?

The situation and environments he found himself in was calm and new. Full of books, unique displays, and people going about their business. Seeing you had become a constant. Something he could count on even if each time would be different, lively.

Connor did not have anything in his past to compare his present to.

If I had more context, he thought, I could figure out what I should be doing. I like their company. I know that, but big deal. That doesn’t tell me what to do about besides visiting them twice a week. But…I do like being with them.

Slightly frustrated with himself, he made sure to keep it to himself.

So, Connor remained standing, keeping you company during your shift, and making you laugh. Soon three books purchased and all his own.

What would come from him having feelings for you?

Connor hoped he would find out in his new way in life.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Detroit Become Human Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[wip]

morning wips! i wanna get involved with the communities rollout! i've submitted a couple of them for review already. however, even for someone like me that is v ready for it, it's hard to engage with communities as a concept because it's not clear what they'll be, not possible to browse existing ones, and there's no info about how they might look or feel like to use. could we have a list of communities that are already happening (even if we can't access them yet), a walkthrough of how communities look or some other descriptive resource? the current info about communities isn't telling very much. these suggestions are made with positive enthusiasm - i WANT to get hype - but it feels v much like we're fumbling in the dark/contributing to something that we don't get to see atm and i think some clarity would help. kis kis kis !!

Answer: Hi there, @moitt!

Thank you for these. All great, fair questions!

And we are happy to answer them. Admittedly, we are fumbling in the dark a little, you might say—that is why it’s still an experiment. We have our own ideas for how Communities could work, but really, we want to build it based on what people actually do with it. This is why the current functionality is fairly simple and limited. We’ve wanted to see what feedback we get and to understand what people ask for and expect—rather than spending a long time building something that may be unappealing to the people we hope will use it (we’ve made that mistake many times in the past!) You can see a little bit of that dialogue in the Feedback community.

To your point about seeing communities—right now, we’re working on ways of integrating public communities into existing feeds, search, tagged pages, etc., so that they can be discovered by people who aren’t in any yet (which is most people on Tumblr!) We hope that by seeing other people use it, you’ll get a better explanation than anything we could try to provide—because every community is doing things in their own interestingly unique way right now. We don’t want to be prescriptive about how they should be used.

By the way, the same is true with how blogs work on Tumblr—we don’t tell you how to blog. Instead, we hope you try to figure out your own way of blogging by seeing how others behave on the platform.

We hope that helps address at least some of your queries. We would also advise that you have a little look at this handy Help Center explainer into Communities. Above all, we hope y’all like it.

Stay tuned!

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi! I really like your Donna x reader fanfics, they are super!!. I wanted to ask if you could write a fanfic where the reader is Donna's secret admirer. She constantly leaves gifts near her house. Donna wanted to know who this mysterious person is, so she decided to set up an ambush. And then one day, when the reader brings another gift, Donna comes out of nowhere and catches the reader. The reader in turn was very scared, she thought that Donna killed her, but instead Donna invited her for tea, to which the reader agreed. They chatted, talked about their interests and so on. Donna meanwhile began to have feelings for the reader. And one day, during a conversation with the reader, Donna began to ask questions about love. The reader was surprised by the questions, but still answered them. Suddenly there is a moment of silence. The two girls looked into each other's eyes and at that moment they kissed.

I'm not forcing you. Have a nice day

Yessss!!!! Thank you for your kindness and your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the laguage mistakes!!!! :)))))

Get to know me?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 8,050

Summary: A secret admirer? Nonsense...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Alcina is right, you need a maid,” Angie commented as we walked silently back to the house.

I never liked meetings, or masses, or anything that had to do with approaching trembling crowds that feared the sight of us. My siblings never cared, I even think they enjoyed the terror they instilled in the villagers. Not me. I was just doing my duty to return to my solitude, to my quiet and secluded life.

“Sciocchezze,” I murmured, shaking my head.

“It's not nonsense, Donna, I agree with her,” the doll said, moving nervously in my arms. “That way I would have someone to scare.”

“That's all you want, isn't it? Someone to play with,” I said, annoyed by her insistence.

“Mm, well, not exactly, besides, I think you could use some company,” my doll said, making me roll my eye. “You're very boring.”

“Boring? Oh, are you bored with me, Angie?” I asked, crossing the boundaries of my territory. “Maybe if I deactivate you, you won't be bored.”

“Hey!” Angie mocked, shaking her head, making me smile. “But it’s hard to spend every day with the boring part of my conscience.”

“What?” I asked. “You're part of my conscience, not me of yours,” I said, walking faster.

“Yeah, whatever,” the puppet sighed.

Of course, if it weren't for Angie, I don't know what would have become of me. I have a lot to thank her for, but I hated it when she tried to get into my life.

“Do you want me to make another companion for you?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

“An inert doll with a stupid face? No, thanks,” Angie said, laughing sarcastically. “But Donna, I'm just saying that with a maid, maybe you… Hey! Look at that!” she said, shouting and suddenly pointing at the path.

“Mm?” I murmured, approaching the indicated area.

Something seemed to stand out the white snow. I approached slowly, looking around, until I could see what it was. It looked like a package, something wrapped like a gift. I have to admit that it aroused my curiosity.

Slowly, setting Angie down on the ground, I bent down to pick it up. It was a gift, no doubt, decorated with a striking red bow. I looked at it suspiciously and shook it… Caution was never enough.

I was a Lord, but that didn't mean I was appreciated by the villagers, quite the opposite.

“What is it?” Angie asked, looking at the small box. “What is it, Donna?”

“I-I don't know,” I said confused, searching for the opening and gently removing the bow. “Angie, it's not one of your jokes, is it?”

“Oh, you're accusing me again, huh?” the doll said, with her hands on her hips. “How can it be my doing? I've been with you all day.”

“Mm,” I murmured, undoing the fragile paper that wrapped it, discovering beneath it what looked like a box of chocolates. “Una sactola di cioccolatini?”

“Let's see, let's see,” Angie said, jumping on the floor while I handed her the mysterious gift. “How much chocolate, Donna.”

“Ma, ma… who could have…?” I said, scratching the back of my neck while Angie seemed to have fun looking at the box. “I-Is this a joke?”

“Who would want to come here to play a joke like this on you?” the doll asked, handing me the box again. “No one is that stupid.”

“Mm” I murmured, walking quickly with a grunt. “Cazzo…”

“Hey, hey, wait for me, Donna!” Angie yelled, following my steps as best she could.

I finally arrived at the mansion, my only refuge in that sinister village.

“Hold it,” I said to Angie, handing her the chocolates while I took off my veil and walked over to the phone.

“Who are you calling?” Angie asked, carrying the box onto the table, opening the plastic that covered it. “Look, there are all kinds of flavours.”

“Don't touch them,” I warned as I dialled the number, breathing quickly, annoyed by this pointless joke.

“Dimitrescu Castle…” my sister's tired and always seductive voice spoke from the other end.

“Alcina, it's me, Donna,” I said with a low voice, uncomfortable for using it.

“Donna? Darling, it's a pleasure to hear your voice… you should do it more often…” she said with a mocking, quiet laugh. “Did you forget something at the cathedral? Or are you calling because you've run out of wine?”

“No,” I said dryly, glancing at Angie, who was curiously exploring the sweets. “What are you up to? I found them.”

“I'm sorry, dear, but I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about,” Alcina said, still laughing softly. “What did you find?”

“The chocolates... I don't know what you were thinking,” I said, with a slightly nervous tone. “You're the only one who knows that I like them.”

“Chocolates?” she asked again, with a puzzled tone. “I don't...”

“Cut the crap, I know what your daughters did to Mr. Priscu; they sent him a box of sweets because his daughter liked them and I also know that he had to stay in bed for two weeks because he got very sick,” I said, clenching my fist tightly. “Do you think I look stupid?”

“Honestly, Donna, I don't know, I've never seen you face,” my sister said, amused. “Besides, you shouldn't make accusations like that. My daughters love you; they would never do something like that to you just for fun.”

“Oh, really?” I said impatiently, breathing heavily.

“Mm…” Alcina murmured. “Excuse me, dear… Bela, Cassandra, Daniela! Come here right now!”

“Oddio…” I protested, moving the phone away from my ear.

“My daughters… Did you play a prank on Aunt Donna!?” my sister shrieked. “No, mother…” the trio of vampires could be heard saying. “If you're lying to me, I… We promise you, mother, we haven't done anything…”

“Hey, Donna, look at this,” Angie said, tugging at my dress to get my attention. “It was stuck to the side of the box,” she said, showing me a perfectly folded piece of paper.

“Mm?” I murmured, extending my hand to pick it up and looking at it curiously.

“Well, you've seen that my daughters had nothing to do with it... So... someone sent you chocolates? That's news...” said Alcina, distracting me.

“Yes, I...” I stammered, blinking confused. “I...”

“Did I hear that they came with a note? Why don't you read it?” Alcina asked, amused. “What's wrong, mother?...Someone sent chocolates to your aunt... Oh, oh, who?”

“Ugh...” I sighed, hanging up the phone and calming my nerves. “Basta...”

“Read it, Donna,” Angie said, climbing onto the table and looking at the paper impatiently. “Come on, come on, come on.”

“V-Va bene,” I said somewhat nervously, unfolding the paper with trembling hands.

I hope you like my gift as much as I like looking at you

That's what the note said, in an elegant, mysterious handwriting. I read it several times, turning the note over looking for some clue of its origin, but to no avail.

“What does this mean?” I asked myself, running a hand over my forehead. “A-Angie, what…?”

“Oh, how interesting,” the doll said, taking the piece of paper and comically making the same gestures as me. “Who is it from?”

“How would I know?” I said, shaking my head and snatching the note from her. “I'm sure it's a joke.”

“Maybe it’s not,” the doll hummed. “Maybe someone likes you.”

“You've said a lot of stupid things over the years, but that was the biggest one,” I said, sighing and shaking my head. “They're probably poisoned.”

“Why would someone send you a note like that with poisoned chocolates? So I'm the one who says stupid things,” Angie said, getting down from the table with a mocking gesture. “I'm telling you that someone likes you.”

“That's impossible,” I said in a whisper, looking away from the sweets. “Well, we better forget about this matter and…”

“Forget about it? It's the most interesting thing that's happened to you in years,” the doll said, climbing onto my lap and shaking me by the shoulders. “And you're just going to leave it like that?”

“That's just what I'm going to do,” I said, closing the box and crumpling the paper in my hands, letting it fall to the floor.

I sighed again, looking at the crumpled note and, rolling my eye again, bent down to pick it up with an annoyed grunt.

“W-Well, I guess I could keep this,” I said, smoothing out the paper, looking closely at each of the letters. “If I find out who it was…”

“Oh, what are you going to do?” Angie said, looking at me intensely

“He'll pay dearly for it,” I said, crossing my arms. “If what he intended was to make me nervous…”

“He succeeded, huh?” Angie finished, mockingly tilting her head.

“No, shut up,” I said in a murmur, picking up the box and putting it on top of a shelf.

“What if it's not a joke?” Angie said, making me sigh. “What if some boy likes you?”

“Angie, forget about it,” I said with a brusque gesture. “B-Besides, you know that I'm not… interested in boys.”

“It might be a girl's,” the doll commented, sitting on the table, swinging her legs in a childish way. “If it were… would you change your mind?”

“My mind?”  I asked with an unpleasant gesture. “No, she will pay dearly for it. Nobody laughs at me.”

“At this rate you will never get a girlfriend,” Angie said, with a dark tone.

“I don't need a girlfriend, I don't want a girlfriend, I'm not interested, is that clear?” I said nervously, but completely sincere. “For your own sake keep your mouth shut, or there will be consequences.”

“You're so weird, Donna,” Angie sighed, getting down from the table with an offensive gesture. “Boring!”

“Angie…” I growled furiously. “Stop… getting into my life,” I said with a sad look. “This has never happened.”

“Oh, my Donna, if I don't care about you… who will?” the puppet said, walking away from me. “Maybe your secret admirer will…”

“Taci!” I screamed angrily, clenching my fists on either side of my hips. “I don’t need anyone to worry about me… a-and anyone to send me chocolates… or whatever…” I stammered unintentionally, glancing at the box. “This is unbelievable… Come on, Angie, I have to work on my dolls…”

I tried to forget about the whole chocolate thing, but it was practically impossible.

My life was always a sad passage of misfortunes, tears and tragedies. Ever since I was a little girl, I refused to waste time talking to the people around me, I felt like no one could understand me, that all they did was look at my wounded eye, not at me.

I thought that maybe, just maybe, the fact that Mother Miranda had pity on me, accepting me as her daughter, offering me the gift of the Gods, would change something, but I was wrong.

Nothing changed apart from my already deformed face. Everything that was human in me disappeared, leaving behind a horrible scar. Being ashamed of my appearance was only one of the effects of that change, but not the only one. Luckily, or because I really was as alone and sick as my family liked to say, I was able to do something to remedy that dark void that had always been my life.

Thanks to Miranda and the Gods, I was able to turn my best friend, the only one who hadn’t abandoned me, my Angie doll, into something resembling a companion. I couldn't say how far her independence went, what exactly her mentality was like, if she had one, and if I did...

She was the complete opposite of me, and she was me at the same time. If I think about it carefully, I realize that, indeed, nothing changed after I stopped being the Beneviento girl to Lady Beneviento. I was always alone, I will always be alone.

I hardly thought about what my life would be like if I lost my fear, if I abandoned my black dress and veil and tried to be a little more like my siblings, a little more… less me. It was useless. A horrible monster, the dark lady of the dolls… That was a good summary of what the villagers thought of me.

Fear wasn’t respect, I didn't want respect, nor fear, I didn't want appreciation, nor love. I didn't want anything, I didn't know what love was, I didn't want to know. I was fine alone, with my dolls, with Angie… anything that distorted that peaceful solitude was nothing but a nuisance to me.

I never needed anyone. I never loved anyone, not even myself. Some people might think it was a sad life, but it wasn't exactly like that. What awaited me was an eternity of loneliness and darkness, and in time, I learned to accept it.

That incident with the chocolates didn't change my routine, but Angie's words stuck in my head.

“Mm…” I hummed quietly, with my mind focused on my little porcelain friends. They were always silent, they didn't bother me, they didn't talk, they didn't judge me… “That's it. You're a beautiful doll, aren't you? Mm, what eyes do you want me to give you?”

“I know I'm beautiful, you don't have to tell me,” Angie interrupted, laughing amused, to which I frowned, shaking my head.

“You should learn to enjoy silence, Angie,”  I whispered, putting the doll on the table and studying its inert expression.

“And you should learn to relate to human beings,” the puppet mocked, laughing shyly, to get me off. “I like you more than chocolates…” she sighed, moving her hands exaggeratedly. “Hahahaha, how nice.”

“I told you I didn't want to talk about it again!” I squealed nervously at the doll's insistence. “Shut up or get out!”

“Oh, what a mood…” Angie protested, without moving from her spot. “You should eat one of the chocolates and…” she said, but, surely seeing my expression, she decided to stop making fun of me, for a moment. “Okay, I'll be good.”

“That's better,” I whispered, shaking my head and pointing at some paint cans. “Verde,” I murmured to the doll, who obeyed instantly.

“Green… green… I don't see it,” Angie said, with a calmer voice, but equally irritating.

“It has to be there, look better,” I said in a low voice, cleaning the imperfections of the porcelain.

“There's no green, Donna, paint them another color, I have a blue here that would be…” the puppet commented.

“No,” I said sternly. “I said verde.”

“And I told you there's no green, silly Donna,” Angie said, crossing her arms. “Why green?”

“Because I said so…” I hissed, more upset than usual.

I didn't like leaving the estate. Meetings with my family made me too nervous and… well, there was also the issue of chocolates. It was always difficult for me to control my madness, the trembling of my hands, the voices in my head. But that day was especially difficult, and Angie didn't help.

“Well, there isn't any,” the doll said.

“Look for it well, damn it!” I screamed furiously, hitting the table hard. “They have to be green, do you hear me? Verde!”

“Hey, what's wrong with you?” Angie said, getting down from the table, surely scared by my attitude.

“Forgive me, Angie…” I finally said, managing to calm down, to remedy the voices of my madness. “It's not a good day.”

“I see…” the doll said, walking towards me with a cautious attitude. “Why don't we go see the fat man for some paint? Maybe you could use some fresh air.”

“Angie… going back to the village is the last thing I need right now,” I said, running a hand over my forehead.

“What do you need?” she asked, looking at me intensely, resting a wooden hand on my back. “You know I would do anything for you, my Donna.”

“I-I know,” I said with a sad smile, letting the doll hug me. “Y-You know what? Maybe you're right and a… a walk will clear my mind.”

“Yes, yes! Let's go see the fat man,” she said, laughing amused and rubbing her hands.

I couldn't say why I accepted the offer so easily. My mind was somewhat dazed and confused. The box of chocolates was still in my head, as was that absurd note. Luckily, Angie listened to my pleas and put the subject aside. Surely she knew I was thinking about it.

The village was empty as always. Sometimes I imagined how it was a few minutes ago, if there were people on the streets, quiet people, with a quiet life, who ran away when they saw me appear.

It was hard for me to imagine a lonely village. Yes, surely everyone hid when they saw me…

“Hello, hello… Duke, Duke?” Angie called at the door of the warehouse where that greedy fat man used to be most of the time. “Hellooooooo. Hey, maybe he's not here and…”

The door opened slowly, but it wasn't a greedy fat man who appeared behind it, but a young woman... well, I had to admit that the first adjective that came to mind was simple and even vulgar: beautiful.

She seemed like a shy girl, or so her overly formal smile told me, one that slowly mutated into a look of surprise when she recognized me.

“La-Lady Beneviento,” the girl murmured, backing away, scared, as expected. “Oh, I...”

“W-Who are you?” Angie asked, imitating the girl's voice while laughing.

“I, I'm...Oh, how did you know that...? I mean, I didn't know that... that you... that I...” she said, visibly nervous, something that made me frown behind my veil and tilt my head curiously. “I mean, well, I'm sure you're asking me for an explanation, but...”

“What are you talking about, you silly, silly?” Angie asked, with part of my voice in her words. “Where is the fat man?”

“The Duke? Oh, of course… er… Are you looking for the Duke?” the villager asked, lowering her gaze.

“Of course, stupid, why else would we come here?” Angie said, pointing at her awkwardly. “To see you?”

“Well, maybe,” she murmured, clearing her throat and looking at me briefly, with that terrified spark that the villagers' eyes kept when they saw me. “But…”

“(Y/N)” a petulant voice appeared in the place. “Please don't keep Lady Beneviento waiting,” the Duke said from inside the building.

“Y-Yes, of course,” she said, bowing quickly and inviting us in.

I walked slowly, keeping my eye on hers. She was certainly a beautiful girl, very beautiful. I followed her with my gaze as she ran to the back of the store. She probably didn't realize I could see her but… she glanced at me quickly before pretending to search for something on a table.

“Do me a favor, continue with the Ionescu's order while I attend to this distinguished client…” the fat man said, pointing at some objects on that table, making the girl nod obediently. “Anyway…”

“Since when do you work with fools?” Angie asked, pointing at the young woman, who seemed to struggle not to look back at me.

“This job is complicated, Miss Angie, I needed some help,” the Duke said, with his perfectly rehearsed business pose. “Miss (Y/N) needed the job and… well… you know how generous I am.”

“Is this a joke?” Angie mocked, as I stared at the young woman, who seemed to be wrapping some boxes.

I thought that leaving my house might clear my thoughts, but it did the opposite. Those red bows… they looked too familiar. It looked like the same kind of bow that was on the box of chocolates. I stared at her, without her noticing, and after a few seconds, I shook my head.

I was starting to go crazy, seeing coincidences where there were none. My imagination, my madness, was always about that, never about reality. I had to relax.

“Donna!” Angie shrieked, snapping me out of my absurd thoughts. “Are you here? Should I tell the fat man what we want?”

“Please,” the merchant said, briefly looking where my eye was pointing. “Are you interested in anything you see, my lady?”

“Green, green paint, we want green paint,” Angie said, dominated by my control, in a stern, dark voice.  

“Oh, of course… (Y/N), please…” the merchant said, gesturing with his hand.

“H-Here it is,” the girl said, with the jar already in her hands, slowly approaching me. “This color… my… my lady?”

I extended my free hand towards her and when it made contact with the paint, hers immediately disappeared, with a nervous gasp. Slowly, checking that it was the right color, I nodded.

“Oh, you're fast, silly,” Angie said, with an amused voice.

“If she weren't, she wouldn't be working for me,” the Duke commented, looking satisfied at his assistant. “I've been lucky.”

“Yes, yes, yes, come on, tell us how much,” the doll said, gesturing with her hand to quickly end the conversation. “And I hope you don't try to rip us off.”

“I would never dare, my lady,” the man said, knowing our dynamic, knowing that, although Angie was talking, it was I who was actually doing it. That fat bastard knew too much. “It’ll be… one hundred lei.”

“Here,” Angie said, as I handed him a bag of coins, briefly turning my gaze to the girl, who stood back, nervous.

“It’s a pleasure, as always,” he said, losing interest in us to check the money.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, whatever you say,” Angie said, as I started to walk out of the store. “Hey, silly! Bye!”

“B-Bye…”  (Y/N) sighed, her voice weak.

On the one hand, I would have liked to know more about that secret admirer, that mysterious person who left me that gift. On the other hand, I felt relieved with the passage of time, with that overwhelming normality that returned to my life.

I stopped giving it importance. I learned to forget about that exit from routine to return to my beloved dolls, to my solitary life, to the refuge of the mansion walls. I couldn't help but think about that hidden person, that idiot who thought it was a good idea to play with me.

Sometimes, at night, I played at imagining who it was, if it was a disgusting villager, or maybe a beautiful woman. I would like to say that I didn't think about her too, about that girl who worked for the Duke, but I would lie.

A stupid villager, a beautiful woman... My thoughts began to wander between those two topics. (Y/N), and the person who said he or she liked me. Definitely, although it was hard for me to admit it, my life had changed, but I didn't know exactly how.

“Let's see if you can guess what I'm looking at…” Angie hummed as we strolled through the grounds.

Mysteriously, leaving the mansion was becoming easier and easier for me, but of course, it had nothing to do with that admirer, nothing, really…

“Mm, a tree,” I said, looking around, enjoying this walk through my lonely lands.

“Oh, no, no… you're wrong, silly Donna, what I see is… a bouquet of flowers?” Angie said, standing still in the snow, catching my attention.

“Cosa? Flowers?” I asked with tender curiosity, adoring that childish side of the doll. “Angie…”

“Yes, yes, yes… look, Donna, there,” the doll said, jumping in the snow and pointing to the end of the bridge that separated me from the villagers.

Sure enough, there was something.

I approached nervously, at the prominent sight of a perfect red bow surrounding some colorful flowers. Carefully, I bent down to pick it up.

“But… this?” I asked myself, looking at the bouquet with curiosity. “What is this?”

“I already told you, a bouquet of flowers,” Angie said, approaching me. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, is it from your secret admirer?”

“Are you still thinking that nonsense?” I asked annoyed, touching the delicate petals of those flowers. “I already told you that…”

“You can say whatever you want, I know what you think. You haven’t stopped leaving the mansion every day, surely to see if you could find something…” the puppet said, pointing at me accusingly.

“I-it's not true,” I said in a more childish tone than I would have liked, kicking the snowy ground and tightly gripping the bouquet.

“Say what you want,” Angie said, climbing up my clothes to look at the bouquet more closely. “Is there a note?”

“Um, I don't know,” I said murmuring, enthralled by the beauty of those flowers. “Wait, here...”

With a delicate gesture, I took a small envelope that was stuck to the bouquet, opening it with trembling hands.

“What does it say?” Angie asked, fidgeting impatiently in my arms.

I hope you liked the chocolates. I was looking at these flowers, and they seemed appropriate for a woman as beautiful as you.

“This doesn't make sense...” I murmured, reading the note over and over again. “That I'm beautiful? I was sure it was a joke...”

“Why?” Angie asked, grabbing the note roughly, snatching it from my hands.

“No one has seen my face, Angie, at least not someone who isn’t… too old,” I explained, tightly gripping the bouquet and looking around, hoping to find some trace of that unpleasant joker.

“What does that have to do with them thinking you’re beautiful? You are,” the doll said, clinging to me, probably because of my quick pace. “Hey, don’t run so fast!”

“T-this doesn’t make any sense,” I said nervously, slamming the door shut and throwing the flowers onto the hall table. “Don’t you understand, Angie? It’s a joke, a bad joke.”

“Well… you look nervous,” the doll mocked, climbing onto the table, where I kept the previous note. “Look, look, the handwriting matches, it’s from the same person.”

“That doesn't clear anything up for me,” I sighed, running a hand over my forehead, comparing the two notes. “There's no clue, and do you know why? Because it's a…” I couldn't finish the sentence, as a wooden hand covered my mouth.

“You and I both know it's not a joke… stop pretending you don't care,” Angie, with a tone that was too understanding for her. “You're nervous, irascible and erratic, more than usual,”

“Of course I am,” I said, sitting down in the rocking chair and rubbing my eye. “Angie, there's someone out there who's laughing at me.”

“Or there's someone out there who finds you interesting…” the doll corrected. “Why do you have to be so pessimistic?”

“I have no reason not to be,” I sighed, looking at the two pieces of paper. “Mm, the handwriting is elegant and rounded. It doesn't look like… a boy's, does it?” I said to myself.

“Would you like it to be a pretty girl?” Angie said, tilting her head in a playful way, making me laugh.

“W-Well, if it's true that there's someone who… who admires me… I'd like it to be,” I said with a smile, looking at the bouquet of flowers. “Look, they're beautiful, aren't they? They smell wonderful.”

“Oh, Donna… You're blushing,” the doll said, pointing at my face, which I covered with my hands.

“What? I, I don't believe in… those things…” I said, lowering my head, leaving the flowers on the table. “They're just fairy tales.”

“Oh, wouldn't you like to live one?” the doll asked, with a confident tone. “It seems that that mysterious person would like it.”

“Don't talk nonsense…”  I sighed, shaking my head. “For me, those stories don't exist, Angie.”

“Well, I'd say... I see you smiling,” Angie whispered in my ear, making me blush again. “What are you going to do?”

“What? Oh, I... n-nothing,” I said frowning and waking up from some kind of impossible fantasy that my sick head was starting to create. “I-I guess nothing.”

“Nothing? Please, Donna,” the doll said, grabbing me by the shoulders. “You have to do something.”

“What? I have no way of knowing who... oh, no, no, no look, I confess that it intrigues me and... I feel, I feel things... but, what if it's not how I expected? What if it really is a joke?” I said somewhat nervously, with a cold sweat running down my neck. “It's better to leave it be.”

“Mm, come on, I have an idea,” Angie said, getting off my lap and motioning for me to come closer.

The puppet climbed up the phone table, starting to dial an unknown number. My hands started to shake.

“Hey, che cavolo sati facendo?” I asked, grabbing the phone in my hand.

“I’m just trying to help. I’d like to know what to do, but… I’m just a doll, after all,” Angie said, in a defensive pose. “It’s better to ask the professionals for advice.”

“Professionals? What…?” I muttered, blinking in confusion.

“Dimitrescu Castle…” a voice came from the other end, a tired, deep voice, my sister Alcina’s.

“Oh, um…” I said nervously, trying to scold Angie by knocking her off the table. “Alcina?”

“Donna?” she asked. “Dear, it’s always a pleasure to hear that beautiful voice… Or is Angie playing with the phone again?”

“Yes, no, um…” I said nervously, sighing exhausted, with my cheeks… red with embarrassment. “Yes, I think I need to talk to you.”

“Mm, I'm listening, dear, it's not usual for you to tell me something like that,” my sister said, amused. “What is it this time? Have you thought better about the maid?”

“No,” I said with a dry voice, lowering the volume little by little. “Um… I suppose I can tell you… Let's keep it between us.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” three shrill voices made me move away and almost hang up the phone. “Girls!” Alcina shrieked. “No spying!… okay, mother…” a dull sound indicated that the sisters had stopped listening. “Speak, dear, we're alone…”

I was nervous, but little by little, I managed to tell my sister the situation. Alcina listened attentively to my story, but I don't know if she was really pretending to listen to me. Nobody cared about me, not even my siblings.

“I see,” she sighed, laughing amused. “Donna, are you going to do anything?”

“That's why I'm calling you. I-I don't know what to do... I...” I murmured, looking at Angie out of the corner of my eye.

“Easy, bella...” said the lady in white, amused. “From what you've told me, I see a pattern in these gifts.”

“A pattern?”

“Mm, well, it's been just a week, right? What tells you that in seven days there won't be another little gift waiting for you?” my sister said, making me think.

“I hadn't thought about it,” I sighed, shaking my head.

“That's your perfect opportunity to clear up your doubts. Set an ambush for that little bird, I can't believe it hadn't occurred to you before,” Alcina said, in a honeyed voice.

“T-That's right, I have, I have to clear up my doubts,” I said, biting my lower lip, with my heart beating especially fast. “T-Thank you, Alcina…”

“No thanks, dear… I hope you'll keep me up to date,” she said, laughing mockingly. “That's it! Tell us everything!” the three sisters shouted into the phone. “Damn it… I told you to hang up the phone! You are…!”

I didn't let her continue talking. I simply hung up the phone nervously.

An ambush, a trap. It seemed too easy. I would have to wait seven days to find out what was behind those mysterious gifts.

My heart was always fragile. If I didn't find what I was expecting, that daring vermin would regret it forever.

The days passed slowly, too slowly. My demons, my fantasies, my fears danced in my head… Nightmares, sweet dreams… I began to lose my mind, to take out my frustrations on Angie, to count the hours, the minutes I had left to get out of my doubts.

Finally, luckily, the day arrived.

“How much longer are we going to be here, Donna?” Angie protested, pulling at my dress as we hid behind the ruins of what was once… my territory.

“Shh, shut up,” I said in a low voice looking at the deserted bridge, hoping to see something, anything, not to feel like I had wasted my time, for those strange illusions to suddenly disappear. “Just a little longer.”

“We've been here for hours,” the doll said, in a childish tone. “I'm going to freeze.”

“You're a doll, you don't feel the cold,” I said, with my gaze fixed on the road, without losing patience.

“I don't, but you do,” said the puppet. “Brr… Oh, wait, wait, look, look Donna, there.”

The doll pointed at a shadow that began to move the bridge, crossing it slowly. The cold was intense, yes, but among the mist and the snow I began to distinguish a walking figure. It was not a disgusting villager, some disturbed person, or a group of children wanting to play a joke.

The figure took the form of a woman, a young woman. No, not a woman, it was a girl. A girl with a slender but sad body, who walked slowly along the swinging bridge.

“Non può essere…” I murmured when her face became visible.

I recognized her instantly. It could be because of my good memory, or it could also be because, along with those strange gifts, that face had been wandering in my thoughts. I was so wrapped up in that mysterious person that her memory was barely a whisper, an image that appeared when I got tired of imagining who was sending me those gifts.

(Y/N), the Duke's assistant, that beautiful and shy girl that I found hard to forget, was crossing the border of my property, carrying something in her hands, a gift, a small box adorned with a striking red bow.

“Donna... it's...” Angie whispered when the girl was already getting too close, with a cautious look.

I would have liked to behave differently, not give in to my nerves and the shock of that revelation, but I couldn't do it. Abruptly, I came out of my hiding place, just at the moment when the girl bent down to put the gift on the ground.

“Hey, you!”  Angie shouted, running in front of me, scaring (Y/N), who had no choice but to run away.

“Oh, shit…” I heard her growl, running back towards the bridge, not bothering to look back, throwing the gift to the ground.

“Hey, don't run away, rat! Come here!” Angie shrieked, being picked up by me in a hurry, walking quickly towards the young girl.

“No, no! Ah!” she screamed, tripping loudly on a root and falling to the ground with a hiss of pain. “No, no please. I can, I can explain, I…”

Her babbling wasn’t able to distract me from my slower walk, until I stood in front of her, looking down at her, not knowing what to say, or what to do. Luckily, my black veil hid my emotions, my eye wide open, a smile of relief at knowing it was her. It was always her.

“Start talking, silly girl,” Angie said, with a cocky tone. I, meanwhile, just watched the shine in her eyes, her panicked expression.

“O-Okay, but don't kill me, my lady, please, I…” the girl said, rubbing her back due to the blow, standing up awkwardly, with trembling legs.

“You're the Duke's assistant,” I said in my own voice, something that surprised even Angie. My voice was hoarse, dark, but it was my voice, after all.

“Oh, um… -Y-yes, I'm…”

“(Y/N), I remember you,” I said again, taking a step closer to her. “It was you, right?”

“Um, I… I'm sorry my lady, I-I think I shouldn't be here and…” she said nervously, looking around for a place to escape. “I won't bother you anymore, I promise, I…”

I didn't pay attention to her words, I simply bent down to the ground, picking up the small package and shaking the snow off of it.

“Oh, that, forget it, it's…” (Y/N) said, trying to snatch it from me, something I stopped with a quick movement of my hands. “No, please…”

“Isn't it for me?” I asked in a small voice, taking advantage of the situation, of the paralysis that her body was feeling at that moment.

“Y-Yes, it's for you,” she said, lowering her head, on the verge of tears. “Please, Lady Beneviento, I… I'll, I'll leave.”

“Angie, don't let her go,” I murmured to the doll, who walked in front of me, intimidating the nervous and scared (Y/N).

“Of course, Donna,” the puppet said, getting too close to her.

“Mm,” I murmured, slowly removing the wrapping and opening the small box, which contained something shiny, similar to a bracelet. “Cos' è questo?”

“What? I, I…” she said, walking away slowly, something she couldn't do for a long time, since Angie was watching her back. “I-It's a… bracelet… I, I made it and…”

“Mm, a bracelet,” I repeated indifferently, looking inside the box, where there was, as always, one of those folded papers.

“No, no, no, no! Please!” the young woman screamed, moving towards me, desperately trying to snatch the note from me, something she didn't manage. “Please…”

“Stay still,” I said abruptly, sounding like an order that she simply couldn't disobey.

Not even the most beautiful flower, nor the brightest jewel, could compare to you

“Mm,” I murmured, looking over the note at the trembling young woman, blushing like blood, looking everywhere but at me. “Come.”

“W-W-What?” she asked, really scared, when I started walking towards the mansion.

“Are you deaf, silly? Come on, walk, walk,” Angie said, laughing sinisterly and pushing (Y/N)'s legs. Making a superhuman effort, she started walking.

I didn't trust her, I spent the whole way looking back, checking that she was following me. I didn't think she was capable of doing it, but she did.

“Siedeti,” I whispered to her at home, indicating a small corner with a sofa.

“What?” she asked, looking at the floor, still shaking.

“Cazzo…” I cursed, grabbing her arm roughly and pushing her onto the sofa. “I said, sit down,” I growled furiously, without knowing why.

“O-Okay, I'm sorry,” she said, barely in a voice.

“Stay there,” I ordered her again, leaving the bracelet and the note on a table. “Angie.”

“Yes, I'm watching her…” the doll said, climbing onto the sofa and rubbing her hands.

I went down to the kitchen, wiping the sweat from my forehead. I finally had before me the two things that had been wandering through my head: that beautiful girl, and my secret admirer. I could never imagine that shy girl could have anything to do with all of this, to me she was just that, a pretty girl who… well, I wouldn't have minded her being my maid.

Nervous, almost breathless, I prepared some tea, mentally preparing myself to have some kind of conversation with her, to know how to clear up all my doubts, how to answer the questions that had been tormenting me all that time. I couldn't call Alcina, I had acted too quickly, Angie wouldn't help me, I was alone.

“Tea,” I said abruptly, putting the tray down on the coffee table in front of (Y/N), startling her with the noise, causing her to shrink on the couch.

“T-T-Tea?” she stammered, as if I had said something stupid.

“T-T-Tea?” I mocked unpleasantly. My nerves and my sick mind were playing tricks on me. “Chiudi il becco, I'm making the questions”.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, lowering her head.

I sat down in front of (Y/N) and stared at her. Naturally, she didn't move an inch, she was frozen in fear.

“Um, Donna,” Angie whispered to me, getting my attention. “Easy…”

“Mm, (Y/N),” I said, ignoring the doll's warnings at my scary and dark attitude. “Do you know who I am?”

“Donna Beneviento,” the girl murmured, without looking at my face, at that black veil that hid my ugliness.

“Bingo,” Angie said, climbing back onto the sofa to intimidate the young woman. I thought she would faint at any moment.

“Do you know what happens to stupid people who dare to bother me?” I asked again, with a darker voice. “Don't you drink tea?” I asked in a different tone, almost unintentionally.

“I'm a bit nervous, my lady,” she said, clenching her clothes with her fists. “Yes, I know what happens when…”

“You've done it several times,” I said, pointing with my hand at the flowers and the box of chocolates.

“Yes,” she admitted, closing her eyes, clasping her hands in a pathetic pose. “I beg you, my lady, have mercy on me, I just wanted…”

“What did you want?” I asked impatiently, crossing my arms. “To laugh at me? Was it a bet or something?”

“What? No, of course not,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head, as if that insinuation had really offended her. “I did it voluntarily.”

I looked at Angie, who shrugged. I really needed Alcina's help at that moment…

“Why?” I asked nervously, with a demanding tone. “Don't try to lie to me, you silly girl, I'll know.”

Her face told me she was willing to tell the truth. I couldn't help but smile. Of course, I wasn't able to tell if she was lying.

“I… I just want to leave, please, I promise not to come back and…” she said, getting up hastily from the sofa, something that I prevented again with a brusque gesture, lowering her body by her shoulders.

“Sit down and drink your tea.”

“O-Okay,” she said, fearfully taking the cup.

“Don't make me lose my patience,” I threatened in vain. Her beauty couldn't be hurt. I couldn't hurt something so beautiful, even if I wanted to. “Speak.”

“O-One day…” the girl began, trembling even more, looking for a fixed point to look at that wasn't my non-existent gaze. “One day, shortly after the Duke hired me, you appeared in the warehouse, I think, I think you wanted a grey fabric with…”

“With ruffles and a rough feel,” I finished for her, making her nod nervously. “Do you remember… How curious, I don't remember you.”

“W-Well, I guess you don’t. I didn't want to show myself, and even less in front of someone like, like you…” she explained with a voice broken by fear, but terribly sincere. “I had a bad idea about you, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid but…”

“But,” I said with that same dark tone, one that I couldn't avoid, although I would have liked to.

“But when I saw you… I didn't see a horrible monster, I didn't see that legend that the elders talk about at night… I only saw a woman… a young woman dressed in mourning and I began to wonder… why such terrible things were said about you,” she said with a low voice, losing her fear, apparently.

“Is that why you sent me those gifts? Nothing you say makes sense, (Y/N),” I said confused, nervous, losing my patience little by little. “Those things you said…”

“I was telling the truth,” (Y/N) said abruptly, with an intense look that pierced my chest. “I wanted to make you feel good and… well, working for the Duke gave me a certain idea of ​​the things you might like.”

“I'll only ask you once, (Y/N),” I said, slowly getting up, intimidating her. “What do you want from me?”

“To get to know you”

A verb, some simple words served to relax my attitude. Nobody, nobody had ever wanted to get to know me, to have anything to do with me and… she… that beautiful girl… gave me gifts, told me those things because… just because she wanted to get to know me?

I was nervous, confused, I didn't understand what her intentions were, why, the reason for everything she had done… for me. I relaxed, I calmed down. I let that beautiful girl ask me things about me, interests… tastes, hobbies…

It had been too long since I had a conversation like that, I don't think I ever had one. (Y/N) was a smart, funny girl, shy, but willing to get what she wanted, to exchange words with me, even if I wasn't sure.

After that tea came many others, conversations that were less and less awkward in which the girl dedicated herself to telling me about her past, what she expected from the future. Any other thought that wasn't about her had no place in my mind. I couldn't stop seeing her face in my dreams, hearing her voice.

My heart raced with her presence, it was sad when she left. Angie was clear about what was happening to me, but I wasn't.

“I have to go," (Y/N) said with a smile, after an entire afternoon of insipid, empty chatter, or at least that's how I saw it. “Thank you very much for the tea, and for... well, for spending time with me.”

 “Wait,” I said, failing in my attempt to hide my nervousness about these new feelings that were beginning to torment me. “I have a question for you, (Y/N).”

“S-Sure, Donna, ask whatever you want,” she said, laughing nervously, fighting off Angie's teasing.

“Do you believe in love?” I asked, perhaps abruptly, making her step back and drop her jaw.

“Oh, um… of course I do,” she said, blushing, like every time she spent time with me. I would die for that smile. “Love is the most beautiful thing in this world.”

“That's a lie. The most beautiful thing in the world is you,” I said without thinking, with my voice coming out of my mouth alone, with the words abandoning my will.

“Oh, Donna, that's… wow… that's…” she said even more nervously, getting a little closer to me.

“I have a problem, (Y/N),” I said, ready to be honest. “I have feelings for you, but I don't know how to interpret them, I was hoping you could help me.”

“Really? Do you have feelings for me?” she asked, getting even closer, playing with her hands. “That's…”

“What is it?” I asked, taking a step towards her. “My heart races when I see you, my hands sweat, they shake when you're near.”

“T-That's a pretty explicit description… but, but it's very similar to what I feel for you, Donna,” she said in a low voice. “ Even since before… I met you.”

“Nonsense,” I said somewhat sadly, shaking my head. “I have the right to feel those things because I see your beauty every day. You don't.”

“Love goes far beyond beauty, Donna,” she said whispering, breathing heavily. “I can love you, even if I can't see your face.”

“Then I'll change your mind,” I said with a broken voice, gently removing the veil from my face, making the only chance to discover what love was vanish along with the black cloth.

“Oh, Donna,” the girl said, whispering again, almost without a voice, looking at every corner of my horrible face. “I wasn't wrong, you're beautiful.”

“Does love make you a liar?” I said, frustrated by my ugliness, by a beauty I would never have.

“Love is the only thing I feel when I’m with you,” she murmured, taking a last step closer, making our bodies closer than ever.

Silence fell upon us abruptly. There were no words, only glances, only her bright eyes, fixed on mine. My hand moved on its own, ready to experience for itself the softness of her skin, caressing her cheek, her real beauty…

She did the same, staring at me intensely, causing my whole body to tense up and making me unable to move. Her head tilted as she ran her hands over my face, bringing it closer and closer, until it happened.

Her soft lips rested on mine, caressing my monstrous face with a warm kiss, one I couldn't respond to until I realized that this was love, the feeling that drove my heart out of control when she was near, all the sensations that kiss, that first kiss, caused in a sad and gloomy soul like mine.

[ava-starrs-girlfriend]

What the Storm Blew In

Werewolf!Bob/Reader

Summary: You learn a little more about OXE, try to break some tension, and finally ask Bob a burning question.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Lena is a little paranoid (for good reason)

A/N: Ok this is. This is not as intense as the last chapter. And Bob's back!!!!!! We're nearly at the top of the roller coaster i promise just hold on tight 😎

Previous part

Next part

~~*~~

Sam's face flashed an expression as if he had forgotten you survived to hear that part. "Um..."

"Sam?" Bucky asked, facing his friend. "Who told you we had someone new here?"

"Word gets around," he shrugged. "Yanno, everyone wants to be good enough to get in to this exclusive... place."

"Well, you're *not* good enough," Bucky's low voice was laced with venom as he got closer. "So tell me. Who told you?"

Sam's eyes scanned the room, everyone staring at him, frozen, waiting for him to speak.

In the silence, barely anyone breathing, you heard that same stupid buzzing sound you'd heard a few nights ago when you were in the kitchen getting a late night ice cream snack.

You'd ignored it then, like it was just the refrigerator starting a cooling cycle, or the dishwasher prepping a self-cleaning one.

But it didnt come from the kitchen.

"Stop," you said, as Sam opened his mouth to answer.

He frowned as you passed him, and knelt beside the coffee table in front of the couch, behind him.

You moved to lie on your back and look underneath the table. There was the source.

"What's OXE?" You asked as you read the name on the tiny device with a steady red light.

"Shit," Lena muttered, which you could barely hear from underneath the wooden table.

When you were on your feet again, you stood next to Sam as Lena, Alex, Ava, and Bucky began to move, searching the room.

"I didnt think spy bugs were real," you showed Sam. "I mean, like, listening devices and stuff."

He hummed as he looked at it, trying to take it out of your hand.

"No, dude, i'm not letting you touch it."

"I can turn it off."

"Or have it- i dont know- explode?" You rolled your eyes.

"Damn, you dont trust easy, do you?" He asked, amused.

"Not people who want to first get an afternoon snack out of me, no," you answered. You shuddered as a vision, unprompted, flashed before your eyes, and you began naming places the bugs had been placed.

Alex and Lena were destroying them as they discovered them, and soon, you had a pile of them from the kitchen and living room alone on the table.

"This... is not good," Alex said, hands on his hips.

"There're more," you had sat down at this point, head in your hands with your elbows on the table. You kept getting visions, some unprompted, some saught out, and continued to list places you saw them.

Sam had begun to write the places down for you.

"We'll get them all," Bucky said. "Dont worry."

"Im not worried about that," you groaned. "I'm just annoyed. Bob doesnt know."

"We'll tell him when he gets back," Ava tried to reassure you, her hand on your shoulder.

"Does anyone know when that will be?" You looked up at her, hopeful anyone had an estimate.

She shook her head. "You'd know best."

"I cant see him," you sighed, closing your eyes again and searching for answers.

"Don't exert yourself," Ava said gently. "You've been looking for the listening devices."

"Yeah, but-"

"Really, take a break. One thing at a time."

You nodded and leaned back in the seat.

You bolted upright when you realized you'd sat in Bob's seat at the head of the table.

Alex smirked as he watched you finally realize, and then asked Lena to go with him to get the bugs from part of the list.

Bucky and Sam took another part, and you and Ava took the remaining places, near the cabins.

~*~

The pile of devices on the table was large, and Bucky had one pinched between his fingers, staring at it carefully.

None of them had the red, broadcasting light on anymore. They'd all been broken.

"Any idea how long they've been here?" Sam asked carefully, as if unsure he was allowed to ask.

"Probably since John left," Lena still spoke the man's name like it was a curse. "A year."

You just had to know why they hated him so much. "What did he do?"

Alex shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

"He was a hunter, like Lena and Alex," Ava started. "Well, not quite like them. He didnt get along with Bucky or Bob, or our oracle, Sophie. He hated me, too. But... he needed help." She looked you in the eye, her expression soft. "We all ran from something and ended up here. He was running, too."

"Shouldn't have let him stay," Lena muttered. It was childish, the hate she had for him, but you had a feeling it was justified.

"Sophie didn't know," Ava reminded her. "None of us did."

"Did you have hunters here before?" You asked, and everyone looked to Bucky.

He shrugged. "A few. Bob wanted to help them realize they shouldnt hunt people for being different. Some agreed and keep in contact with us. But most... end up chasing glory."

He didnt have to explain what "chasing glory" meant.

You nodded at him, and looked around the table again. You still didnt exactly have an answer. "What did he do that was so different?"

"No one else left *bugs* behind," Lena spat.

"Ok, beside that?"

"He tried to kill all of us," Alex said, and for once, you couldnt tell how he felt about it. His face was guarded, eyes like steel before they shifted to Lena, who's arms were crossed and eyes fixed on the pile of devices. "Bob wanted to forgive him."

"It was the only time I've ever had to overrule him," Bucky said.

And it was still a sensitive subject, a year later. He must have gotten close to completing his goal. "So... he's with this Oxe now?"

"Oxe is a group that employs hunters to capture us alive and take them back to run experiments," Sam said bluntly. "Everyone hates them, even other hunters. I've worked with a few to kick their ass. But they're always back, usually under different names. Sword, was one name. Allegedly, according to rumor, they were originally called Hydra. When they get their hands on us..." Sam's voice trailed off.

"Very few survive," Ava said quietly.

She was still, stiff, her hands folded in her lap. For someone usually so lively, the difference was stark.

Sam inahled, pulling back from the table. "Shit. Im sorry."

"You... were there?" You asked, cautiously looking over Ava's face.

She nodded, then tilted her head and frowned, looking at you. "Maybe thats why John had to manufacture those memories of me- he couldnt show you my true worst days."

That would make sense. Even though you didnt know this OXE group, everyone here did, and everyone here despised it.

"Has anyone here worked for them?"

Various strong no's echoed around the table.

"But you'll meet them soon," Sam stood. "Now that they have no signal here, they're bound to show up."

"And you're on the run again, huh?" Alex asked, and watched as Sam moved away from the table. If it was anyone else asking, you could have sworn there was a hint of disgust in his voice.

"Its not my fight," Sam shrugged, lifting his hands. "Im not *good* enough."

Bucky rolled his eyes and got up to follow his friend. "It *is* your fight, Sam," and they went outside as the last golden rays shone through the trees.

"What... what should we do?" You asked.

No one spoke up.

You couldnt imagine the repeated pain they were going through, and you thought about the past two weeks since you'd arrived. The conversations you had here, nearly all of them could have been heard by OXE. And those were just the ones you knew of, thd conversations. These devices had been here a year.

It sent a shiver up your spine.

"Ok. Well, we're not sleeping separately. Ee're not going to go anywhere without a buddy. Dont- Lena, the safest place is if we're all together. Or at least in pairs. So that's what we'll do," you stood, pushing your chair back. You looked directly at Lena, who was rolling her eyes, then at Alex. "I'm not sure if Bucky will convince Sam to stay, so Lena and Alex, stick together. I'll stay with Ava. If Sam leaves, Bucky will be with us." You gestured to yourself and Ava.

The three of them nodded.

"We'll have the radios with us, and sleep upstairs in the bedrooms up there. Theres a few rooms with two beds, right?"

Again, they nodded.

"Ok. Grab your things for tonight, we'll figure out what's next in the morning," you decided, and they got up from the table, Lena and Alex leaving toward their cabins. "Keep your radios on!" You told them.

Ava hummed as you walked toward your cabin first.

"What?"

"Bob will be proud of you," she said.

You scoffed, ignoring the heat on your cheeks. "What? Why?"

"You took charge," she said simply, and you saw the mischievous look on her face as you glanced over your shoulder, unlocking your door. "He likes that."

"Wh-" you hiccuped. "How would you know?"

She shrugged. "What kind of man doesnt enjoy that?"

"Oh, plenty, im sure," you sighed allowing her inside after you. She closed the door and you continued, "I just thought you knew from experience."

"Hmm? Oh! No, not really, i just know."

"Cryptic," you said, but let it roll off, not catching on your heartstrings.

"Did you bring anything?"

"I'm just bringing some clothes, we'll re-group with a new plan once Bob comes back, i dont think it'll be forever-"

"No, like, bedroom stuff."

You whip around, knowing how red your face got. "Excuse me?"

She just smirked at you.

"Oh my god, Ava, this is not the time."

"Why not?" She shrugged, eyes looking over you. "Tensions are high. Nice way to relax."

"Ava, I am not talking about this with you," you muttered, turning away and heading toward the bathroom for toiletries.

"So you did?" She called after you.

"Not discussing!"

~*~

Sam didn't stay that night, so Bucky joined you and Ava for the evening.

Although, he was a nocturnal guy anyway, so after staring and watching over the two of you for hours, he left and said he would make some rounds of the cabin and main area.

You didn't like anyone going off alone, but he was the most capable, you figured, so you let it be.

Plus, you knew Ava would tease you about being bossy again, and you just didnt want to deal with that.

Luckily, you were pretty sure she didnt dreamwalk.

The next day passed with tense silence. Everyone was on edge, and it was like sitting on a balancing board- no one wanted to talk about the looming, potential threat, but no one wanted distraction, either.

On the second day, you'd had enough. Bob had been gone four days now, and you wished he was here to know exactly what would get everyone out of their sullen mood. But it was you, not Bob, so you did your best.

Standing behind the couch, looking at your companions, who were all reading or scrolling on their phones, you had to suggest literally anything to change the mood.

"Ok. This is exhausting," you announced late in the morning. "Let's all do some training."

"Why would we do that? We shouldnt waste time," Lena said, scrolling on her phone.

"It can be a competition," you suggested. "Keep us sharp."

"Yes, good idea," Alex agreed, looking up from his book.

"But what if they come, and we are tired from practice fighting that we lose the real fight?"

"We'll deal with that if it happens, Lena," you threw up your hand, almost as if surrendering. "C'mon, is your phone really that much better than moving and focusing on literally anything else?"

No one answered, but Alex put down his book and got up out of the recliner. "Lets go," he told you. "We can do it, you know, at least together."

"Great!" You grinned. At least one of them agreed to face the boredom of fear head on.

It didnt take long for Bucky to show up, insisting on just watching, until you'd beaten Alex three times in a row, and then he suggested you should try and fight him, instead.

You'd only sparred with Bucky once, so even though you knew it probably wouldnt end well, you welcomed the challenge.

He attacked you the exact same way Sam had, but this time, instead of keeping you pinned on the ground, you were able to get him off of you, using your breath instead of your hands.

You'd never done that before, and sat up, impressed, when he flew backward several feet and Alex cheered.

Bucky nodded approvingly after he'd gotten up. "Ok, that was good."

"Thank you," you agreed, and beckoned him to try again.

Ava and Lena showed up a few moments later, and then everyone was into practicing. You suggested teams, and then tried different combinations of people together.

Even though it was overwhelming and annoying to be attacked by multiple people at different angles at once, you were grateful. Grateful for the practice, of course, but also the impact of knowing you were safe with these people. That they had your back, they were in your corner. They'd shown you a small corner of their world, invited you into it, and welcomed you to it.

You'd never really known how to defend yourself before, and found yourself laughing at the memory of being ready to swing your groceries at Bob as a wolf but expecting to be harmed.

You'd grown a lot tougher, though, and a lot more confident in the past weeks.

And it all felt right. This time, you really hoped no one would try to distract you again.

You didnt know why you'd ever doubted them.

As you went back inside for a lunch break, your spirits were lifted. Lena was joking with Bucky about some move she'd done, and Alex was offering to make something to eat for everyone.

Ava glanced at you before responding to Alex, and you felt proud of yourself and the group, giving some lively energy back to everyone.

You heard the glass door open and everyone's attention turned to see who was there.

"What'd I miss?" Bob asked, closing the door behind him. He was scanning the group with his eyes, but had a relaxed smile on his face, his shoulders bearing no weight of worry. And his shoulders were plenty distracting on their own, his ribs also shown off in the loose pink tank top with the sides cut out that he was wearing. You noted his bright blue shorts too, and green flip flops. It wasnt exactly summer yet. Maybe he was just running warm from being a wolf.

You felt rooted to the floor, wanting to run toward him and give him a hug, but you couldnt move.

Alex cheered. "Bob! Yes! Welcome back!"

"You only missed a little bit," Lena said, and opened the refrigerator to get a bottle of water. She offered it to Bob, but he just waved it away as he walked toward you, standing by the kitchen island.

Your heart was racing, your mind full of things to tell him and ask him. The oracle's false memories far from the top of your mind.

"You've got a little mulch in your hair," he told you, his eyes fixed on you since the moment he'd walked in. He reached up to pick it out, and you let him.

"Oh, yeah. We were just doing some sparring."

"Really? Everyone?" He scoffed, smirking and glancing around. "Why?"

Oh.

Right.

"What?" He asked, watching everyone shift back into the fear or uncertainty. He looked you in the eye, searching for an answer. "What happened?"

"Maybe you should eat something first," Bucky suggested.

Bob didn't argue, but his jaw was tense as he nodded. Just like that, a burden placed back on those really quite gorgeously muscular shoulders.

You stayed where you stood as everyone got something to eat, and followed after once you could focus on that instead of everything you wanted to say.

Dishes were placed in the sink to be washed later, as everyone gathered at the table, sitting in their places.

You'd grown used to Ava's original seat, next to Bob's, so you didnt even think as you sat there and she took your seat.

"So," Bob looked around at the family. "What happened?"

"Do you remember anything as a wolf? First of all?" You asked.

He shook his head. "Not really- not yet, anyway. Why?" He looked around again. "Did i do something?"

"We had an *invited* guest," Bucky started. "Who didnt exactly respect the rules."

"Sam's like that," Bob shrugged.

"So you do know things?" You asked confused.

"No, but that's, like, the only person Bucky's allowed to invite, especially when I'm not around," Bob explained. "What'd he do?"

Bucky had his hands together, elbows on the table. He took a breath, and then said, "He, well, attacked..." he pointed at you.

You wouldnt tell any of them even if you were about to die how if made you feel to see Bob get angry, glaring at Bucky, leaning forward and actually making a sound like a growl. You shifted as Bob lifted a hand to point at Bucky, and put your own hand gently on Bob's arm.

"It's ok, you were there. Nobody got hurt."

"Well, you got your claws in him," Bucky said. "But yeah, no one got hurt."

"I forgot about that."

Bucky shrugged. "Healing and all."

Bob sighed.

"Anyway, he joined us after dinner- i re-invited him inside-"

"Why would you do that?" Bob asked you.

"Because-"

"Wait-" he interrupted, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his head. Opening them, he asked, "you re-invited him in? He lost his invitation?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"He had to promise to a couple things, but, um, I just... said he could come in?"

"The house part," Ava reminded you.

"Oh, right. Yeah," you smiled to yourself briefly before explaining. "Ava says the, um, house's magic recognizes me?" You frowned and looked around the table. "Couldnt any of you have done the same?"

Lena shook her head, and Alex shrugged.

"I couldnt have, because I'm dead and also only here on invitation, but no," Bucky said. "Bob's the master of the house, he's the only one able to allow any undead inside any of the property."

"Then- oh, so that's why... the authority... oh."

A moment of slightly awkward silence passed, then Bob broke it.

"Ok, Sam was here and hasnt heard the end of what he did, but why were you sparring?"

As Lena explained that part, you were sure you were going to watch Bob transform back into a wolf right in front of you in anger.

But instead, he was more calm than before. He listened all the way through Lena's recap, and leaned back when she finished.

"So Oxe are coming, then," he said.

"Probably," Alex nodded.

He brushed his lip with his fingers, thoughtfully looking at each person at the table.

"Ok."

You jerked your head back slightly, shocked. "Ok? Isnt this group, like, awful?" You glanced at Ava, who was just as confused as you.

"They have dozens of the best hunters under their employ, Bob," Lena leaned forward, squinting at him for a moment. "We would be outnumbered."

"It could just be John."

"As if they'd only send John," Lena rolled her eyes.

Bob tilted his head, watching her.

"They're not that stupid. And even John is a threat. They wont just send him. They've been listening to us for a *year*," Lena's voice strained as she reminded him how long the devices were present. "A year, Bob. All over the place. You didnt see how many. They were everywhere. We have no secrets they do not already have catalogued."

He nodded thoughtfully.

She groaned. The world flickered as she spoke- "You dont get it. That- that stupid wolf brain of yours could never understand the depth of this. You never understood anything." Your vision flickers again.

You stand before you could think, before she could open her mouth. "Let's take a break," you said. "Before anyone says something they regret."

"What- what did I say?" Lena asked, staring at you, voice quiet.

"Something you would regret," you answered. You rubbed your forehead and stepped away from the table. "I'm- I, at the very least, am going to take a break."

"You should tell him about the oracle thing," Ava said as you walked away.

"What orac- hey, wait, what oracle thing?" Bob followed you go the door, and you lifted a thumbs up to Ava so she could see it above your head.

Bob came in close behind you, slipping past you as you opened the door, his hand ghosting over your arm.

"What oracle thing?" He asked, standing in front of you, searching your eyes. "When? What did you see?"

You couldnt look him in the eye, remembering what you'd seen.

"What?"

"I dont want to talk about it."

"Ava said you should."

"Ava isnt the boss of me," you glanced up at him, and moved past him, leaning on the guardrail of the walkway. "You missed a lot," you said quietly.

"Catch me up," his voice was gentle.

"I want to know something first," you turned to him.

He nodded, eager. "Ask away."

"Did your note you left me mean the same thing it meant when you left them for Lena?"

~~*~~

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed!) @foreverchangingmind @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @imthatone-annoyingfriend @mandoalorian @melancholiast-clair @qardasngan @imaginecrushes

[peepreadscomics]

Young Justice: The Secret 1998 meta [Robin’s interrogation]

Comic context: This is probably within their first year of becoming heroes + the first time Robin, Superboy, and Impulse all work together as a trio. Robin is trying to investigate why there government agents searching near Gotham and in doing so he bumps into Impulse and Superboy. They help the DEO (Department of Extra-normal Operations) to recapture an escaped creature. Turns out that the creature is actually a very sentient ghost girl. In order to protect her, they give back a decoy that is promptly destroyed by the DEO. They must lie to the DEO and their mentors to ensure the ghost girl’s freedom. This is Robin focused. SB and Imp will have their own posts.

Tim’s already established himself in Gotham; hes got a rogues gallery, and he's working solo on a bunch of missions. He’s also gone through Azbats, Dickbats, The Clench, etc.

So despite being young, he's not green. It's kinda interesting to look at how he first appears/reacts to the interrogation during this early part in his career.

The first time Tim show up in the interrogation, he’s sat very level, back straight, but not uncomfortably so. He looks like he’s ready to give a clear, concise and detailed report of events. Which makes sense considering that, 1. He’s been taught by Batman, and 2. He’s been working on his own for a bit of time. He’s practised in these interrogations.

Still, he does show some hesitation when the story is demanded from him. With how serious his face is though, I think part of it is Tim’s need to be respectful. The other part I think might be apprehension.

[I do think it would be funny if Tim is also just outright judging them for the raised voices though.

Robin: um… why we yelling? Well, that’s one way to interrogate someone… okay, great job on being subtle…]

The boys’ head move quite frequently during these panels but it’s because the members are standing at different points around them. I'm pretty sure they're moving their heads to react at/answer questions to those who directed it to them.

It's interesting that Robin brings up the disease and virus comparison.

He wants them to know that he took AND is taking this seriously. He nearly died from The Clench and he helped Nightwing stop Ra’s from weaponizing it further than what The Order of St. Dumas was able to. It makes what he’s saying more credible and believable.

Even at this stage, Tim knows how to use his words to play on people impressions and assumptions.

The boys continue to tell their story, conveniently leaving out the middle bit where they discovered the volatile dangerous creature is actually this misty ghost girl with a tragic backstory + how they deceived the agents on the field into believing this creature was destroyed.

And now lies of omission and straight up lying are starting to muddle.

Robin has been serious and stone faced this entire time. His mouth stays the same but his eyes kind of take on this deer in headlights look. Which makes sense, considering this is what, like 2 years before his whole, "I lie to Batman," shtick.

And the JL is showing their interrogation tactics, the moment they had to lie, they had the member to ask them be beside them/behind them. It helps to reveal these little micro-expressions.

Everyone hear is gearing themselves up to lie. Robin's deer in headlights look has become more unsettled and apprehensive.

Look at him. He decides to go for nonchalant. Which does make sense? They asked him for his opinion. While he was recounting the events he was serious and stern faced. This answer makes it look like he hasn't considered that the creature could've survived the explosion. which is a good impression to leave in this situation if you're trying to cover up the truth.

I just thought this was interesting. He is lying in an interrogation setting to people he respects. Quite a lot of pressure. It shows that even this green, he's most comfortable with trying to manipulate people's impressions and assumptions about his falsehoods. I think this is a through line for him even until Red Robin 2009, which is pretty cool, since a lot of the things he gets away with are the result of people simply not noticing due to this image of trustworthiness in mind.

I'm sure he gets better at it, but here, this early in his career, he looks so uncomfortable having to lie straight up. It reminds me of that one comic panel where Bruce is like, "No, Tim has to say it to me. Because Jason and Damian will lie to my face and not blink." Could it be that Tim has never fully gotten over that deer in headlights look in the face of Batman? or is it more like: Tim has figured out what gives himself away in Batman's eyes and has started to use it against him.

Honestly I feel like it's both. Tim knows how to manipulate people's view of him… even this early on. So I wouldn't be surprised if he grows to purposefully use that wide eyed look to give someone the wrong impression.

I also think that If Tim hasn't prepped himself to lie to Batman then he has this deer in the headlights look, but if he has a moment to prepare himself then it is unfortunately extremely hard to know if he's being truthful.

Anyway Tim's relationship with being deceitful is fascinating.