#(i ought to make more in the future. more appreciation posts for them.)

[jichanxo]

been a while since i've drawn flex ❤

[newartistgirl]

Lu little details (2)

  Following the last post I made, which, to be honest, hadn’t thought would be read as much as it has been (given the fact that the last update was some time ago I was not expecting to see that much people reading about linkeduniverse), here I bring more little details that always manage to surprise me, and show the thought behind.

1. Legend is, in fact, reading an actual in-game quote from Mipha’s diary. I know maybe this one is not shocking but it’s always appreciated. 

2. The variety of items they use. It’s not just reduced to the most obvious ones, their sword, shield, and bow (being recognisable and distinguishible the designs of each. There you go, more and more details). We also can see items, such as the hookshot, the clawshot, the whip, fire, ice and dominion rods, or even the stasis of the skeikah slate. And some others but not being used, like the rest of items Legend hoards.

3. Does Legend asking Four what he thinks about upgrading the master sword count as a reference to games detail or personalities/opinion detail? However, there it is. While Legend has in fact done that, Four seems somewhat averse to the use of magic swords.

4. An obvious reference to Breath of the Wild is Wild breaking his swords several times. Another detail that may be a little less obvious, not because it’s hard to get but because it may get forgotten, is Wild saying “I’m just glad this wasn’t my good shield”. As we know, Wild probably has a wide range of weapons, and I find really close to my BotW experience the not using the “good shield” case except for accounted occasions. In fact, we never see him using any of the highest damage weapons in his game. Probably this is because he won’t have them in the comic.

5. Just like the Links, all monsters are mixed. Regardless of the Hyrule ore time period thay are in monsters from all games have been showing. I think it’s more than on purpose the fact that after Wind recieves his mail monsters from the Great Sea show up. Like, Time says it. So no, not a big reveal but...

6. Usually little posts not focused on the storyline, due to their purpose, have a huge amount of references, usually shown in a rather comical way. From Legend and the floor tiles, Four frustrated cause no one knows who Vaati is, Time advising Hyrule not to drink from the well, to Malon and the aliens or that impossibly endless magic bag our hero carries around. I  love every single one of these.

7. Twilight thinks of Midna several times. I’m not just talking about when he literaly refers to a princess beatuiful as the setting sun who shatterd his heart into a million pieces, but also when he looks at his shadow in a rather nostalgic way, which, of course, it’s not a common thing to do.

8. Four and that combat againts the octorok. I personally suffered that battle just like he describes it. And I ought to remark Legend’s snarky comment because, even as a short person, found it funny. (I’m gonna end up having to make a post for each Link cause I could also add a lot about this two but about more subjective matters)

9. Wild uses the ladle Sky carved him. And the fact that Sky actually carves is like one of the nicest character details as a reference to the game so far. It’s easy to skip that detail in the game itself so props for adding that.

10. Time loves to quote, and this time, he is quoting his future self. I the comic, when he finishes a fight along Wind, he tells him: “In every battle, you have a little more of the look of a hero” which is oddly similar to what he says to his descendant in Twilight Princess: “You have a little more of the look of a hero than you did before”. Not complaining. Any reference to the Hero’s Shade makes me happier. 

11. All that conversation between Twilight and the veteran turned into a bunny is full of references to their games that, obviously, happen to be past events in the heroe’s lifes that may or may not have had a big impact on them.

12. Sky being the one to run out of breath. If you have played Skyward Sword you know about the stamina wheel which, ulinke in BotW, can’t be upgraded.

13. Bellum and Vaati references are more than “references”. I frankly doubt someone missed those. However, theres a more sublte reference Four makes while talking to the Rancher. In this scene he talks about Dark Mirrors, this being a reference to his adventures, which Twilight inevitably connects to “his” mirror. (Love also that scene. Easily one of my favourite duos)

I probably have skipped a lot more cause the comic is full of them. I hoped you liked this. If while reading I notice more I make another part, but for now this is what I have. Happy new year btw!!

(I apologise in advance for any spelling mistake. i’m not a native speaker)

[communist-manifesto-daily]

Hello, I wonder why you hadn't been posting for a while...?

I got busy so I couldn't open the blog to read and reblog, but I still deeply appreciate how hard you work in making this easy to read ^^

Hi!! Thank you so much for the ask and the interest in my blog!

To be honest, I queued up all the posts, and then let the blog run on its own. Originally, I'd intended to reblog each part multiple times before the next part posted so people of all time zones could have a chance to read it, but it turns out this is tremendously hard for me. There was also a separate problem of not being able to link a part until it was posted, which I think made the overall reading experience worse. In the future I think I ought to post all the parts at once, link them, and then queue them, but these are logistics people don't need to worry about.

I've at least fixed all the links for the Communist Manifesto now, so all the parts should link to each other correctly, and for now I think I'll run it so that each part is posted 4 times a day, for 3 days, before moving onto the next part. A rerun of the manifesto, essentially!

I worry that it's going to get too spammy, so I think I'll try to put most of it under a cut, and whenever a reader wants to engage they can click to expand. But I'll have to go back and edit the posts some more. So it'll be a few more days before Communist Manifesto Daily will be running again.

If I'm doing my math right, the rerun will go until the end of July. Hopefully, given 2 months' time, I'll be able to start queuing something else up, like Socialism: Utopian and Scientific by Friedrich Engels, which is also fairly short, or maybe Imperialism, the Highest Stage of Capitalism by Vladimir Ilyich Lenin, which is comparatively much longer, but piques my personal interest. Of course, if there are other political texts that anybody is interested in, I'll definitely take that into consideration as well. If we get enough suggestions, maybe I'll run a poll and see what the people want!

[valeriefauxnom]

Scaling Removed Scenes

So, even if I use most the content I type, or am at very least able to repurpose scene ideas, sometimes things just don't quite make it into the cut. It might be for characterization, the tone a section had that is now at contrast with the rest of the chapter (as me, who tends to write random interesting bits of several upcoming chapters in the future and then strings things together, cannot exactly foresee where the plot is), or just because a better idea popped up. (Yes, you are also reading this right in that I am a 'pantser' flying by the seat of my pants with ideas vaguely glued together as I stitch things together! ...I'm not good at outlines.)

The point remains: this is things that aren't Scaling 'canon' or congruent. And despite it all, some of these are snippets or, rarely, basically fully polished segments that no longer fit. So instead of letting them rot forever in my drafted works, I figured I'd at least try and put some of them somewhere as maybe a fun little thing for anyone interested to see What Could Have Been.

Here's one, which with the latest chapter is out of the running. My first draft and ideas for this section involved the Trio of Eldest Siblings being the ones to face an even angrier Mids, and it would have been much earlier in the chapter. As things developed, it was ultimately thrown out for quite a few reasons. For one, Euden Tower Defense and resulting drama had not yet entered my mind. It also felt like a bit too...productive for a single section, in that Mids is giving incredibly huge pieces to the puzzle all in once, even if he might be a bit looser with info when mad. Combined with other things, it was eventually 'repurposed' into Leo's encounter(s) with Midgardsormr. You'll see shades of elements here and there!

That being said, I'm not exactly sure what to do with these little bits and pieces. This is probably the biggest piece I can think of that is truly out of the realm of possibility now. I'm not sure whether to just post 'em on Tumblr for easy finding so they don't get lost in my own drafts or posting them to a new single work on AO3 or something, with chapters dividing the different failed sections. What might work best/be preferred for any readers here, for convenience or something?

Without any ado, though, now that that's out of the way, here's the section in question, a full 2.7k that had developed wings but nevertheless failed to fly enough to make the Cut!

“And then, before I could explain his behavior to Father as nothing more than dismay that Father was hewing closer to the core of the matter, Father dismissed me as if I were naught more than a schoolboy throwing a temper tantrum! Infuriating. We just might have had some answers by now, but Father’s saccharine tendencies nipped it in the bud and allowed Euden to escape yet again from answering any uncomfortable topic.” Leonidas said as he relayed his experience with Father and Euden last night, only pausing to angrily sip his tea.

“One question: were you acting as a ‘schoolboy throwing a temper tantrum’, o wizened, most temperate elder brother, or at least resembling one enough that Father strayed closer to caution than boldness in assuming Euden’s intentions? You do have a certain…vigor in you that can oft make it appear you are feeling more intensely about a matter than you actually are.” Phares said, jovial to Leonidas’ annoyance.

Chelle hummed in agreement. “With the fire in his mere recounting of last night’s events, I too would struggle to blame Father for erring on the side of caution when interpreting your interpretations.”

“Perhaps I ought to head posthaste to Valkaheim, if that is how I am appreciated here, and leave you to figure out the truth all alone. First you disregard me and my orders, only to deride me as if I were a petulant, emotional child.” Leonidas huffed at their light teasing as the trio of eldest siblings gathered once again to consult with each other over tea.

“Winter is not due for how many months, and yet brother dearest is already wishing to abandon us to frigid winter to enjoy the warmth of Valkaheim? How cruel and cold, much as my elder brother’s heart, it seems!” Chelle exclaimed with faux hurt. They all knew Leonidas was merely expressing exasperation at not getting his way yet again, instead an actual threat to return to his city as he did for all winters. It wasn't as if Chelle would be here for winter either, more than happy to return to Chanzelia to escape the freeze as well.

“Oh yes, how very devastating, his willingness to leave his infirm, sickly brother to the capital, trusting that he won’t even be able to hold a coup in the meantime…” Phares joined right in the teasing with a hand clutching his chest and blatantly lying. While far from the raw physical strength Leonidas or Valyx could muster, he wasn’t exactly infirm now, either, and a master of all forms of the lance aside. 

“As if you wish the throne, anyways… We’d have an easier time convincing you to remain in a library for a year than maintain the throne for half that.” Well, that too, as Leonidas pointed out. Phares was more than content to stay holed up in his study or wandering the world in search of truth and science, making his words mere bluster. The one singular time Leonidas and Father had both been struck ill by an illness for a few days enough to demand a regent, Phares made his displeasure acting as such clear enough by his sulking. 

“Hm, that actually might be a pleasant reprieve from-”

They were interrupted when a sudden strong breeze sent wind whipping across the courtyard. Chelle had to rapidly snatch her fan off the table before it could be carried away. Looking to the sky, baffled by the sudden change in wind, they soon had an answer.

Midgardsormr had returned to the castle, and he was evidently interested in coming to land in their courtyard.

They watched in silence as the dragon slammed onto the ground much louder than necessary, each formulating their own idea about the situation.

“Heiritors of dragonblood, what have you done to Euden?! Answer me or your lives might be considered forfeit!” The dragon all but roared, staring them down with all the fury of a powerful Greatwyrm.

Leonidas stood up. The rest of them followed, but Leonidas held out an arm in a signal to stay behind him. “Explain what you mean, wyrm. We’ve done nothing. Whatever you mean, it was not our act.”

His words sounded cold as ever, but the remaining siblings could tell he was preparing himself for a fight. Even the causal omission of ‘Great’ in front of ‘wyrm’ would be considered severely disrespectful. To do so in front of an angry dragon was tantamount to begging for a fight.

“Then you mean to claim you have nothing to do with his current status? He had fled. Escaped as planned from you, and so I departed to track him down and rejoin him. Only after some time searching did I feel his mana again echoing back to this very castle and just outside, this time ever-so-much-weaker. It is clear you, as the connecting factor, did something drastic to incapacitate him!” With every huff, verdant tendrils of wind mana cascaded out his mouth and nostrils, a passive reminder of the power dragons commanded by virtue of their creation.

“The only thing our family has done of late, Greatwyrm, was save him from being preyed upon by fiends and dying from shapeshifting rebound. He’s currently being treated to the best of our capacity and with all kindness possible.” Phares said in a more placating tone than Leo’s harsher rejection.

“Clearly a lie. It was you who first imprisoned him into this castle, and halted him from shapeshifting! Evidently, now that he reclaimed his ability, you must resort to other methods now that the accursed collar is nullified from his efforts. Exactly what I would have come to expect from such conniving siblings who seemed to seek nothing less than his complete annihilation at times!” Though the Greatwyrm appeared calmer by actually being willing to hear them out, he was still obviously angry, judging by the way his tail thrashed about and knocked over things at random.

Despite the more pressing concern trying to calm down a Greatwyrm from attempting murder (and one that would likely succeed against at least one of them), Midgardsormr’s words sent their heads spinning as they processed. 

First, the dragon had implied that Euden had shared with him that they were siblings before he saw fit to reveal the same to Father, as well as plotting escape with him. Second, Midgardsormr seemed to believe they sought Euden’s ‘annihilation’ and spoke as if he had a history with them longer than a month or two. Whatever could that mean or have originated from? Had Euden and him truly been speaking so dramatically of affairs here? It hadn’t seemed like it, the one time they partially overheard a discussion of theirs… Though they admittedly were speaking secretively in their utilization of Draconic, a nearly dead language that even dragons seldom used for anything beyond ancient literature and magic study.

“Greatwyrm, if you are truly so unable to take our words for what they are, I implore you, by all means, visit your pactbound yourself to see with your own eyes that he is not being mistreated. We know not what you are referring to, but it is not our wish to see relations soured between the Kingdom and the Greatwyrms.” Chelle offered, testing the waters by calling Midgardsormr and Euden ‘pactbound’ to gauge his reaction.

The dragon fell silent then, failing to provide a reaction as he maintained his stare as if he were weighing their souls. “...I will hold you to your offer, dragonblood.” He held his snout up high in the air for a minute, before he abruptly took to the air again. 

“...He looks like he’s going to our bedrooms,” Phares said as he observed the dragon’s flight, “They must be pacted after all or otherwise engaged in some sort of bond. Tracking down the mana of a shapeshift is one thing, but to be able to pinpoint his location like this suggests a deeper connection. Even Uranus wouldn’t be able to pin my exact location, and we’re essentially in lockstep.”

“Phooey. My hair is all messed up now.” Chelle said instead as she tried to school it into a neater semblance of its former glory. 

Leonidas’ hair was similarly messed up, though he did not seem to care aside from moving it away from his eyes. “Pick up your slackened jaws and lances, guards. The threat is not gone. Sister, Brother, you may wish to go inside. If the beast is to attack, let him claw through the walls to do so, preferably when you are armed.”

Midgardsormr’s strong wind and strong…verbiage had made some of the guards drop their weaponry in shock.

“And let you engage in diplomacy, when you’re already mentally strategizing how to fight a Greatwyrm? Perish the thought. If we run, he could just as easily take that as confirmation we feared his wrath when he discovered something.” Chelle dismissed, taking her seat again as if a dragon did not just threaten that he might take their lives.

Phares hummed in agreement. “Besides, we did just invite him inside. There would be a fair probability his hypothetical rampage would commence there. We simply must pray we’ve given no accidental cause for Midgardsormr to interpret as neglectful.”

They then sat in mostly silence despite the gravity of the situation, their previous discussion tabled. The only marker of some time passing was the increasing presence of guards entering the courtyard, no doubt responding to frantic calls to arms regarding a hostile dragon in the place only to find it empty.

But finally, Midgardsormr could be seen in the skies once more, landing again, this time with a more reasonable slam. He graciously chose to ignore the few guards that nervously pointed their spears in his general direction to focus upon them again.

“I will acknowledge that your current story appears to be veracity, kin of dragonblood. Euden is yet asleep, but all that I could gather from others suggested your words to be true. For once.” The bluster in the wind and his mood seemed to die down. 

They could only be pleased the dragon was of the sort able to calm himself when proven wrong, though he was not pleased about it. Many dragons, much as humans, struggled to accept any notion of faultiness and many a cautionary story ended with a dragon going on a rampage only to find out their driving reason was incorrect.

“Our thanks for listening to us, Honorable Greatywrm. Please, if there is aught more you might like to hear to clarify the situation since your departure, do ask.” Chelle said in her smooth tone that served to soothe ruffled feathers (or scales) and cravats alike, eager to further iron out any misunderstandings and perhaps win back some goodwill.

The dragon looked more contemplative at that. “...How did you find out that he was your kin? The environs were richly decorated and well-guarded in such a way that suggests you live near his new quarters, no? What caused his change of scenery from being secreted away above the castle as little more than a prisoner?”

“He revealed it to our father, though not particularly freely. It was a miracle we’ve gotten that much out of him despite that being the most logical conclusion since the first day he stepped inside the castle, and even that reportedly set him crying and pulling out his own feather. Utterly ridiculous.” Leonidas responded, shaking his head with distaste.

The dragon sighed. “...Feather? Whatever is going on with you?” He muttered, lost in thought, “...All I know of Euden would not correlate to most behavior you and your servants consistently described. Still, know that I will not break the bonds of trust placed upon me and thus will not speak of his secrets.” Sage as reputed, Midgardsormr had already deduced the likely request that he share information with them if he were truly so concerned and preemptively responded.

“Then,” Phares swallowed, buying time to think of a way to phrase his inquiry, “...If you cannot, is someone else who might? We’re increasingly at our wits’ end trying to find out anything that might help him. As soon as things look to be improving, something backslides him three steps before seemingly without rhyme or reason as he refuses to explain.”

“...There exists none who could share his life story, anymore. They are gone. The sole keepers are him and myself, and even I know not all.” 

They paused at that plain confirmation that they had no hope of finding any record or person that knew of Euden aside from those presently within the confines of their current location. However many were that could have before, they were likely dead if that was how Midgardsormr addressed them.

“Ah. I see…”

“All fine and well, but do you seriously intend us to twiddle our thumbs and gently try to prod him into revealing another scrap of info, only then to have to wait another month before any notable progress can be made again and trust he doesn’t find a way to die or maim himself accidentally in the meantime? That is the pattern of late, and one that cannot be allowed to continue. If you profess care enough to open yourself up to attack from the entire kingdom, I would remind you of the consequences of silence.” Leonidas said, not falling into Phares’ melancholic mood so easily.

“Dearest brothers, this was supposed to be an opportunity to answer questions of the dragon, not ask them, regardless of your points.” Chelle reminded.

“I intend to honor the trust placed in me, little ember, especially as I am the only one whom he can rely upon now,” the Windwyrm dismissed, flicking his tail in displeasure, “Control your fire before it sparks the wrong blaze. Regardless, there is little I wish to ask that I could receive an adequate response for. I will permit you to continue your inquiries as I see fit.” 

The diminutive appellation of Leonidas as a ‘little ember’ had him cross his arms in distaste, -also probably from the reminder he had no true control whether the dragon stayed to listen at all.

“Then, Windwyrm, if you will not enlighten the darkness, advice on how to illuminate it ourselves would be helpful. We’ve any number of scattered facts, but connecting them into a singular narrative is proving most difficult.”

“...I will speak with him as soon as he has awoken before I do anything more. But I will leave you with two pieces of advice: Euden, as most every living creature, is more helpful when met with kindness than not.”

“Windwyrm: we’ve tried making most every concession allowed either for his health or per our lord Father’s orders. We would struggle to think of aught other kindness one could provide. He asks for near nothing, and so nothing we provide.” Chelle protested, incensed at the implication they were meeting him with unkindness.

It was uncanny, how so many dragons could hold so still for so long. Had they not known, one could have taken Midgardsormr as a very fancy, exorbitantly expensive sculpture. “...And have you considered your mere presence is its own form of torment to him? Therein lies my second piece of advice: regardless of how illogical it may be, the least likely answer is more often the closer one to your answers.” 

“Illogical in what-”

Before Phares could finish, Midgardsormr took off yet again abruptly as he first came, deciding the conversation was over.

“...Well, that was certainly interesting. A pity he grew tired of questioning so quickly. I had many things I might like to ask about.” Phares blinked, interrupted in the middle of his question and left watching the dragon go.

“Nothing like a touch of mortal peril to enliven one’s afternoon, hm? Though, Leo-Leo, I must say, how dashing to come to your siblings’ aid! I’d almost begun to believe you were devolving into a crude brute with no sense of chivalry!”

“How is it that you can turn to jape so quickly in the wake of what just transpired? Do you fools even realize the precariousness of that situation? Regardless, I simply did not wish you to be in my way if the dragon were inclined to attack. That is all.” 

“Mm-hm…” Two skeptical voices sounded, sharing a knowing look. Oh yes, that likely was part of the reason, but they both knew it was not the entirety.

Phares took a sip of tea, as if they were not in potentially mortal peril not five minutes ago. “In any case, permit me to share my own curious findings I’ve been meaning to before I announce the same to our sibling in question, obtained thanks to the Lightwyrm and Nedrick…”

---

[willfrominternet]

upcoming doctor who speculations

folks, i'm thirty-two years old and woke up with a head full of ideas about what the upcoming first ncuti gatwa/millie gibson season of doctor who will include. thoughts:

the doctor - having just gone through one of the most traumatic experiences of their lives - will lean more into their openness and vulnerability, showing a greater appreciation for life than ever before. they'll stand back in the shadows (or at least try to) and just want to hang out with their friends, even if they have to help fix some hijinks along the way.

ruby sunday will be a good-kid-turned-bad type, and she'll be on the run for getting in with some other bad folks and getting nabbed doing something she shouldn't. low-hanging fruit, but the title of the christmas special ("the church on ruby road") makes me think she'll have some sort of religious upbringing she's shed. doctor who rarely touches on religion for various reasons, but it'd be interesting for them to get into it (although who knows, considering now disney's involved with the show)

the doctor will at first find ruby brash and not like her criminal background, and ruby won't like the doctor because of their so-called "weirdness." however, the more they find out about each other - their shared proclivity for breaking rules, both of them wanting out of normal society, perhaps something having to do with perceived gender - they form the beginnings of a friendship.

their relationship will be strictly platonic, but incredibly strong. promotional pictures of them dressed up in period clothes make me think they'll just flit around history to have fun and go absolutely bonkers at parties. frankly, doctor who's been too serious for too long. we haven't had a good party doctor since ten. we're due!

for this reason: the main tardis console room won't change from how it looks in the 60th anniversary specials. and because of that, you know the doctor and ruby will put those to good use. we will get at least one televised tardis dance party. that's right, friends. manifest this with me: DISCO TARDIS.

no idea about stories, except we've got eight to work with, so they'd all better be good. from promo pics of costumes we've seen so far, we ought to have a 70s episode (given the pic of ncuti and millie in suits), something from the 18th century (jonathan groff's episode), one with a musical twist (jinkx monsoon's episode), and something in which the doctor will once again wear a stetson.

i have a feeling the show will return to a more educational/historical vibe, given the sci-fi of the last few series - the timeless child, trenzalore, the return to gallifrey - has all made the lore confusing. while sci-fi won't disappear full scale, it will take a back seat to let the show reset in a way. if it does explore the future, it will (i hope) focus more on socioeconomic/technological/ethical issues a la the ninth doctor's run rather than "ooooh scary monsters."

i've already got parts of conversations written in my head between characters and if i don't hear them in the show, i'll get upset. i am one of those terrible people who thinks they could've helped out the writer's room in a big way. expect me to write these scenes and post them to ao3 soon.

anyhow: very excited to see what they do with this apparent reboot of the franchise. you should read that as "i am ready to be hurt again." happy 60th, doctor who!

[electricbluebutterflies]

A quick kiss on the crown of their hair + damerey?

Post-canon, PG-ish, also on ao3.

She’s too tense. He can almost feel her vibrating next to him.

It is not objectively surprising that the girl who might’ve saved the galaxy has social anxiety, but that issue is one thing on paper and a totally different thing when it’s actively his problem. Not that Rey is a problem, but-

When this ends badly, if it ends badly, Poe wonders how much of it he’ll be able to talk his way out of. Probably not enough.

She’s vibrating, and none of her other core people are in sight, and there’s this unspoken rule between them to never leave her alone if there are a lot of other people around, so… he’s stuck, for the foreseeable future. Again, not the worst situation in the world, but he’s trying to be more realistic about it and-

“Still okay?” he asks as he processes that she hasn’t said anything in… long enough he can’t give an exact guess of time, and it’s not like he’s been in normal form either so-

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

That is… absolutely not a conversation they are having with a possible audience, for one thing, and he knows her signals and he’d love to know who talked her into wearing a jumpsuit for this particular occasion but the good news is the zippers on it are a really visible fidget for her, and-

“Just an innocent question.”

This at least makes her laugh, which is calmer emotion than he’s seen out of her in like an hour, and they’ve sorta ended up hiding and she probably has her reasons and-

Feral girl is probably going to be the end of him one way or another, but what a way to go.

“You’re the only one who ever asks,” she murmurs. “It’s… strange.”

Says something about how everyone else sees her, he thinks – another conversation that will not go anywhere good if certain people can hear it, another ball of frustrations he can’t do anything about. Yes, fine, Rey is… a lot of a person, but she is a person, and sometimes it seems like people forget that, and-

“Is that a problem?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Of course she doesn’t. Of course she hasn’t had time to-

He turns closer and the desire to touch her is just a little too overwhelming, to cover her hands with his own or do something to tether her or-

Kissing the top of her head feels safe, somehow, compared to other maneuvers. Barely anything at all, just a heartbeat of a collision, just-

“What was that for?”

Too much, he thinks, too forward too soon too-

His face must be doing something he’s not consciously aware of, because she’s giving him one of those looks he can’t place yet that might be her version of affection or-

“I should’ve-“

“I’m not mad.”

He still feels like he ought to apologize, but again now is not the right time and since when did that stop him and-

He has to do right by her. End of the day, that’s what matters most. Do right and do not, under any circumstances, knowingly add to her damage.

“Still, I…”

She puts two fingers to his lips, and this too is new, and-

“You’re careful with me. It’s sweet. And I do appreciate the distraction.”

“You’re safe, okay? Nothing bad is going to happen here.”

They go back to quiet after that, back to their usual… he’s not sure “exile” is the right word for it, but he went and tethered himself to someone whose social needs are a lot lower than his and-

They’ll acclimate each other, sooner or later. It’ll be okay.

[honeyleesblog]

Steps for Achieving Personal Harmony and Success

At any point do you feel that your life isn't close to also coordinated true to form? Try not to be concerned; you're in good company. While realizing that you're not behind your counterparts as far as getting everything in order may be consoling, it can likewise be deterring. All things considered, a large portion of us had assumptions about adulthood. We'd have a consistent profession, discretionary cashflow, an exquisite home, and maybe a captivating way of life. It isn't past the time to understand the vision you have as a primary concern. You might begin rolling out the improvements you need by telling yourself, "I'm assembling my life," and afterward utilizing this rundown to assist you with arriving! In this way, in the event that you're prepared to start acting responsibly, begin with these simple tasks!

Steps for Achieving Personal Harmony and Success

1. Make a rundown of your current circumstances to set your life up. It's basic to recognize where you are presently prior to concluding how you believe your future life should show up. It very well might be simpler to overlook your ongoing conditions on the off chance that your life isn't definitively where you expected it. In any case, you can't make significant change except if you analyze where you are presently. Make a note of your ongoing circumstance in every part of your life first. Make a note of the accompanying places: Your ongoing position Home\sFinances Fellowships in affection Side interests Wellness and wellbeing Your otherworldliness or religion All that you need to enhance ought to be on your rundown! 2. Figure out which parts of your life you appreciate (and which you don't). The following stage in getting your life all together is to figure out which parts of your ongoing circumstance are definitively where you maintain that they should be and which aren't. In the first place, go over your current conditions and imprint the ones you're happy with. This segment is straightforward in light of the fact that no critical changes are required. The more troublesome stage is going over your rundown and recognizing the circumstances you could do without. It tends to be challenging to see the number of parts of your life that aren't where you believe that they should be. Notwithstanding, now that you've found them, you can make an activity arrangement and perceive how you might want to transform them. 3. Characterize your targets. Whenever you've figured out which parts of your life you might want to improve, you can start forming objectives to assist you with accomplishing your goals. Attempt to be pretty much as unambiguous as conceivable while making objectives for yourself. Basically choosing to get your funds all together isn't sufficient. All things considered, put forth clear monetary objectives, for example, making a financial plan, saving $1,000, or taking care of your Mastercard obligation. Put a couple of explicit objectives for every part of your life you need to get to the next level. A few subjects might give off an impression of being more difficult than others. All things considered, how would you define quantifiable and point by point relationship objectives? In that particular situation, you might focus on an espresso date or call a dear companion one time per week. Incorporate a rundown of goals whenever you're finished. As per measurements, recording your objectives builds your possibilities accomplishing them by 42%. Get them on paper and post them some place you'll see them consistently for an additional explosion of inspiration. Likewise, don't underrate the force of positive insistences. So saying yourself, "I'm assembling my life" or "I have my coexistence", could assist you with accomplishing your targets! 4. While attempting to start acting responsibly, begin little. Assembling your demonstration in one day is unthinkable. All things considered, you should start little. Separate the progressions you need to make in your life into small, reasonable lumps as you choose. Additionally, with regards to changing your ways of behaving, begin little. We should envision one of your targets is to work on your actual wellness. On the off chance that you don't practice by any means currently, putting forth an objective of working out six days seven days is ridiculous and will make you wear out. Begin with a couple of days all things considered. You can add one more little while in the event that you've laid out a strong daily schedule. Getting your life all together can be achieved by working on by 1% consistently! 5. Set your actual space up. Getting coordinated is a huge part of setting your life up. An untidy actual climate can frequently prompt disruption in different parts of your life. Envision getting up in the first part of the day and unfit to find your keys because of a packed kitchen. You're behind schedule for work and have a more elevated level of pressure until the end of the day. In addition to the fact that your anxiety at is work uplifted, however you might be fearing getting back since you realize you'll need to manage the messiness. With regards to your funds, wellbeing, or connections, clearing actual mess may not have an effect. Be that as it may, you'd be stunned how much strain and turmoil you haul around in different parts of your life. 6. Get the important devices to help you in setting your life up. Tracking down the right apparatuses to use along the way is fundamental for setting your life up. Anything point you're endeavoring to accomplish, there's more likely than not an instrument accessible to help you. Think about the accompanying models: Propensity screens: A propensity tracker is an application that guides in the improvement of new solid ways of behaving. You pick which propensities you need to create and how frequently you wish to rehearse them. The product will then, at that point, help you to remember your propensities and permit you to follow them. Planning applications: There are various planning applications accessible to help you in accomplishing your monetary goals. You can browse different applications in view of your planning style, your objectives, and the sky is the limit from there. Getting your funds all together is a major piece of taking care of business. Wellness screens: A wellness tracker is a superb device for everybody with wellbeing and wellness objectives. Wellness watches, first of all, can help you in following your means and exercises. You can likewise follow calories in and out utilizing wellness following applications. Device for project the executives: An undertaking the board instrument like Trello or Asana might help anybody beginning a business or dealing with a huge venture start thinking responsibly. It allows you to set specific errands, allocate them to various people, and make daily agendas. Diary: In the event that your psyche keeps you from accomplishing your goals, a scratch pad could be exactly what you want. Studies have exhibited journaling to essentially affect both close to home and actual wellbeing. It can assist you with unwinding, lessen your gamble of ending up being debilitated, from there, the sky is the limit. 7. Make a monetary arrangement Making a monetary arrangement is one of the most basic things on the take care of business agenda! For the vast majority, cash is the main wellspring of stress. It outclasses governmental issues, work, and family as a wellspring of stress, and it has much more critical ramifications for more youthful ages. Whether your objectives are monetary, bringing in a cash plan and having your funds all together, whether your objectives are monetary, can go quite far toward assisting you with starting to think responsibly. 8. Start thinking responsibly by bringing down your feelings of anxiety. In the event that something in your life is causing you stress, it can adversely affect numerous parts of your life. Suppose you're focused on working. You, in the same way as other others, may bring that pressure back home with you around evening time. It can influence your connections, wellbeing propensities, and different parts of your life. Make a rundown of everything in your life that makes pressure start bringing down pressure. Is there anything on the rundown that you can check off? This could be the situation for costly memberships or social obligations that cause more pressure than they're worth. It could likewise suggest expecting significant life altering situations. Different tensions will be difficult to dispose of. Work and family are two instances of them. While you will be unable to stop explicit burdens, you can make changes to decrease uneasiness. 9. Search for a guide. A guide could be the ideal strategy to end your life to a higher level in the event that you have essential profession objectives that you haven't accomplished at this point. A coach might assist you with profession or business objectives, acquaint you with people in the area, and go about as a sounding board when you face difficulties in your vocation. Could it be said that you are searching for a guide? Consider who in your organization has recently offered you direction. Mentorship can be a formal — and, surprisingly, paid — plan. Be that as it may, it could basically be a relaxed fellowship with a partner. 10. Lay out schedules to assist you with setting your life up. Schedules are fundamental for progress. You won't require the determination to adhere to your positive propensities and accomplish your objectives once settled schedules. Consider a propensity you as of now have, for example, getting wearing the morning or cleaning your teeth. You don't have to remind yourself to achieve those assignments. They're imbued in your day to day everyday practice. Other solid ways of behaving can be framed utilizing similar standards. Would you like to take a walk consistently? Make the opportunity when you can do it consistently all the while. It will turn out to be natural to you, and you will understand that it simply happens normally. 11. Perceive disastrous ways of behaving Distinguishing your unfortunate ways of behaving is a fundamental stage in taking care of business. Truth be told, we can all concede to having a few unfortunate propensities keeping us down in our lives. It's probably influencing different parts of your life, whether keeping awake until late sitting in front of the TV, overspending on stuff you don't need, or something different. Plunk down and compose a rundown of unfortunate propensities that might be keeping you down in unambiguous parts of your life as an initial step. You can then devise measures to limit or dispose of them. 12. Adhere to the one-minute rule. At any point do you have errands on your plan for the day for days, weeks, or months that you never appear to finish? We've likely completely had comparable encounters before. The one-minute rule is a major idea begat by Gretchen Rubin. As per this rule, in the event that anything should be possible in one moment or less, you ought to get it done immediately, as per this rule. Setting this standard for yourself can help you clean up your daily agenda of the multitude of small exercises that burden you intellectually. This could be a breathtaking initial phase in setting your life up! 13. Make a psychological shift. You may be shocked to discover that o

[aava9099]

Tips to store cooked oats

To ensure that cooked oats stays new and keeps up with its healthy benefit, follow these tips for how to store it the correct way.

Oats are for the most part bought in mass, and huge bits are in many cases ready to set aside time and cash. Be that as it may, normal missteps happen in light of the fact that individuals don't have the foggiest Tips to store cooked oats.

At the point when inappropriately put away, the extras move discarded on the grounds that they are unappetizing, gone lifeless or even ruined.

How would you store cooked oats? Cooked oats should be kept inside the ice chest or cooler to limit microorganisms development a forestall waste. Cook cereal ought to be securely put away in an impermeable compartment in the ice chest for as long as 5 days. Cooked oats can likewise be frozen for as long as 90 days.

Figure out how to appropriately store cooked cereal so you can expand the existence of your extra food, and guarantee that none of the rich delectability goes to squander!

Putting away Cooked Oats Cooking a lot of oats is a simple mix-up to make. As a matter of fact, it is in many cases time simpler to cook an excess.

In the event that you follow these tips, you will figure out how to appropriately store the extras so you don't have to discard them each time.

Buy into Basically Oats! Get refreshes on the most recent posts and more from Basically Cereal directly to your inbox.

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I agree to getting messages and customized promotions. There are simple methods for putting away cooked cereal so you can appreciate it sometime in the not too distant future, even consider creating a huge bunch that you can save for feasts consistently.

Cooked oats can be put away in the ice chest for as long as 5 days, which permits you to have extra oats the entire week of work without concocting a new clump every morning.

While getting ready to keep a lot of extra cereal, there are three unique ways of putting away cooked oats, every strategy takes into consideration different capacity times:

Refrigerating Cereal - The cooler is the least demanding choice to store oats, and most proficient technique assuming that you are intending to eat the leftover oats inside the following couple of days. The extras can be kept in an enormous holder or store in isolated individual parts. Save got in an impenetrable compartment for as long as 5 days to secure in newness and flavor. Freezing Cereal - Utilizing the cooler to store oats is ideal when you won't consume the extras right. The cooler will assist with expanding the time span of usability considerably further. Cooked oats kept in the cooler can endure as long as 90 days when put away in a water/air proof compartment. Getting dried out Oats - to store the cooked oats in the ice chest or cooler, the drying out might be the most ideal choice for you to seek after. For ideal quality, dried out oats ought to be kept inside a sealed shut compartment set in a cool, dry and dim region. Under ideal circumstances, got dried out cereal can endure as long as 90 days and can undoubtedly be reconstituted with boiling water.

The most effective method to store cooked oats What Is The Best Stockpiling Compartment For Cooked Oats? At the point when you are securely pressing extra cereal, having the right compartment makes the undertaking go a piece smoother. A hermetically sealed compartment assists with staying away from spills and furthermore keeps dampness from getting away and air contact that could increment oats waste.

There are three normal compartments to store cooked cereal, and every one offers various characteristics:

Cooler sacks - Cooler packs are a decent decision since they are cost affecting, dispensable and sturdy. They are not difficult to store and can likewise be stacked on top of one another to save space. The pack is made with a semi-porous film that will assist with keeping the oats new and shielded from air contact and dampness. Despite the fact that cooler packs are showcased as reusable, the plastic material will hold onto terrible scents that you won't have any desire to give to the oats.

Glass compartments - Glass holders are a famous decision for putting away cooked oats. They seal with an impenetrable top and the glass doesn't hold terrible scents, in this way the compartment can be reused again and again. Generally, there truly aren't many weaknesses to utilizing glass with the exception of the gamble that it could break effectively and that glass is heavier than plastic.

[lv8health1]

A Strategy For Improving Your Mental Fitness: Mindfulness Meditation

We spend such a large amount of our current opportunity regretting our past and significantly more on stressing over the future, yet what we really neglect is that the ongoing second merits our most extreme consideration and commitment, and this is all mindfulness meditation is about.

In this article, the means associated with Mindfulness Meditation Therapy Treatment will be examined. Being available in the ongoing second leaves us appreciating life to the fullest degree; however, practice will happen provided that you perform it consistently and calmly. This will prompt better comprehension and more dominant dynamic capacities. Know about the way that mindfulness intercession requires your all-out devotion and inspiration. There is no "correct way" or "incorrect way," just a unique way of thinking that moves toward mindfulness meditation in an unexpected way. You simply have to make yourself accustomed to those practices you feel generally OK with.

PRE-MEDITATION

Before you bounce into the concordance and solace of mindfulness meditation, you really want to look at two or three things on your daily agenda.

1. FINDING YOUR MEDITATION DECK

Very much like in each actual activity, mindfulness intervention expects that you track down the proper spot for it. Ideally, this ought to keep things quiet, away from any unsettling influence, protected, and all the more critically agreeable. The lighting ought to be normal. Open air or inside depends upon your solace level.

2. FINDING YOUR Solace Stance

Whether you feel loosening up by plopping down, standing up, lying on your back, or in any event, strolling is totally dependent upon you. Yet, the central thing to remember is not to do everything on the off chance that you are just a novice and to gradually move toward the various stances. The vast majority favor lying down on a level surface with their legs crossed.

3. Remaining on track AND Quiet

Begin by zeroing in carefully on a solitary task that your body is performing; if you are strolling as part of your meditation schedule, center around things like each step you are taking or every breath you are taking in or out while sitting straight. Just let your psyche be free and quiet.

4. Cautiously Notice

Whenever you are finished with the attention to your body, next is the consciousness of your sentiments and perceptions. Be cautious and observe, without judging, every one of the struggles that your psyche is concocting or anything your brain is considering. This sounds a bit unique; however, when you get into that position, you will understand that, on the off chance that you just let your thoughts float by, you can really notice them. Be that as it may, the key here isn't to drive it or judge it, but to permit your brain to be trapped in inward exchange.

The expected activity you need to take is not lock-in.

The occurrence of these considerations during meditation implies they are being handled appropriately. These were dependable and present in your psyche; however, you were just not mindful since there are such countless considerations that need your consideration. Yet, through meditation, your psyche is being scrubbed individually.

POST-MEDITATION

Slowly move once more into your ordinary actual activity; give yourself a couple of seconds rest. It takes practice, but the outcomes will leave you feeling astounding and invigorated. The focuses I examined are broader in approach and cover practically every one of the various methodologies of mindfulness meditation.

Keep in mind: IT requires investment!

Make sure to follow a customary timetable. It might appear as though it's not working before all else and to some of you might feel somewhat abnormal yet you should keep at it. After rehashing your meditations, you will steadily arrive at another degree of mental wellness. Meditation is most likely the best gift you can provide for yourself.

For More Info:-

Mindfulness Meditation for Beginners USA

Meditation Classes for Beginners USA

[prismaticstreams]

Letting go of my fantasy self

“We're in the world, not against it. It doesn't work to try to stand outside things and run them, that way. It just doesn't work, it goes against life. There is a way but you have to follow it. The world is, no matter how we think it ought to be. You have to be with it. You have to let it be.”― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven

“Without giving up hope—that there’s somewhere better to be, that there is someone better to be—we will never relax with where we are or who we are.” ― Pema Chödrön

I've been doing a great deal of reflection lately, as I realised I have become highly invested in my fantasy self, and the fantasy life that goes along with her. Now, I don't think that fantasies, dreams and hopes for our lives and our future are all bad. We all need something to hope for, and goals can be highly motivating.

However, they do become problematic when taken to an extreme. Our ideals and fantasies can make it very difficult to come to terms with our current reality, and can sometimes lead to poor choices. It can also create disappointment and chronic dissatisfaction.

A good example of this would be fixating on an ideal partner in our mind, and overlooking the actual people in our lives who are interested in us and could actually be a good match for us. Or it could be that we get into a relationship with someone who is incompatible, but we project our dreams and fantasies onto that individual... so we can’t see them for who they really are, or accept that the relationship is not good for us. In more extreme situations, it can lead people to be in denial about relationships that are toxic or abusive.

Another example is in our shopping and spending habits - often we buy things for our fantasy self, and subconsciously hope that our next purchase will bring us the happiness and freedom we long for. Most advertising and marketing is actually trying to sell us on an image, a lifestyle, an emotion... because that's what works. This can easily lead to overspending and financial difficulties, as well as having too much clutter we don't need. I discuss this in more depth in my blog post, Decluttering My Fantasy Self.

The Law of Attraction and related practices can be especially problematic in this regard, as they can cultivate a habit of visualising an idealised life. This could have a positive side for some - especially if the goals we visualise are somewhat realistic and attainable, and we take action to move towards them. Many people do find this to be helpful and encouraging.

However, if the goals are seemingly unattainable or far out of reach, it could actually make us feel more hopeless and dejected. It could make it very difficult to appreciate the present, and make the most of it. We can also end up constantly comparing our daily, lived reality with the fantasy in our minds, and our actual reality will never measure up. 

Besides, even if we did achieve all our goals and dreams, chances are they wouldn't measure up to our fantasy version of them. No relationship or job or home is going to be perfect and without problems or flaws, after all. We might always feel like we're setting for second or third best in life. Because often when we picture certain goals or dreams, what we really want is not the thing itself, but the feeling we associate with it. Feelings of love, belonging, adventure, excitement, joy, freedom, wholeness, security or peace, for instance. 

It makes me think of this quote from Victoria Erickson: "Paradise has never been about places. It exists in moments. In connection. In flashes across time." We sometimes try to grasp and hold tightly onto this paradise, when it’s something that cannot be grasped. I have often associated this sense of utopia with living in a certain place or finding “the one”, but for some it may be associated with another sphere of life such as being in the right job or having the ideal friend circle.

While anyone can be susceptible to this particular malady, it seems that Intuitive Feeler personality types (the NF "idealists") are far more prone to fantasy-based thinking. After all, we live in a world that is, for the most part, not built for NFs, empaths, or highly sensitive people (HSPs). Statistically we are in the minority. Sometimes it's easier to retreat into our own minds or utopian dreams, because the world can be such a harsh, unforgiving place.

Of course, at times we need to titrate our experience of reality when life really is too much. Being fully present isn’t always the answer. We all need breaks to replenish, which is part of why art, music and books are so important. All kinds of entertainment, including video games, TV and movies have their place in moderation. When I was struggling with living in a place with severe toxic mould that affected my health, playing Pokemon Go provided a welcome distraction for a while. I don’t think there is anything wrong with this! 

I've also come to realise that my fantasy self can actually play a very important role in my emotional life. She carried me through some very dark, traumatic times in my life. She gave me hope when I was hopeless. She gave me a dream that things could get better. So I don't regret her entirely.

And yet, what happens when the fantasy self starts to hold us back from our real life? What happens if it starts to lead us to make choices that aren't in our long-term best interests?

I've realised I need to start letting go of my fantasy self, and practice radical acceptance. However, this can also come with a great deal of grief. It's essential to hold space for that, and give ourselves time to process that grief.

Because often that grief is the grief of our unlived life and unrealised dreams, which is particularly acute for those with severe chronic illness or disabilities. We can miss out on so much... relationships, careers, travel, having children, active hobbies, volunteering and so on. 

People with histories of trauma or abuse may struggle greatly with this as well. It’s hard to let go of the fantasy of having loving parents and a kind family who is always there for you. It can feel almost impossible to give up the fantasy when it seems like the fantasy is all you have.

For this reason I would say don’t force it too much, if you don’t feel ready. Stripping away our coping tools before we are ready can be harmful - especially if you don’t have any other resources and tools to fill the void. There is a time and a season for everything.

Just being self-aware is a wonderful start, and can help us unblend from the parts of ourselves that find comfort in fantasy. (The concept of unblending comes from Internal Family Systems Therapy by Richard Schwartz.) Part of the problem with our attachment to a fantasy self is that it often remains largely unconscious, so we can’t even really see it for what it truly is. It wields a subterranean power over us, and influences our lives and our choices outside of our awareness.

So, how do you deal with this? How did I start letting go of my fantasy self? Here are five steps I would recommend:

Write down what your fantasy life would be like. If you are visual, perhaps you could make a Pinterest board. If you like music, you could pick a few songs. If you like, you could share it with a friend, therapist or mentor as well.

Engage in a ritual for letting go of your fantasy life. This could include lighting a candle, writing a letter to your fantasy self to thank her and say goodbye, or maybe writing it on a piece of paper and burning it.

Read aloud a letting go affirmation, such as this one I adapted from Teal Swan: “I hereby lay to rest my fantasy of the life I wanted. It wasn’t in the cards for me. It did not happen and it wasn’t my fault. I am ready to release you now and live my life from this day forward; doing what I can with what I have from where I am.”

Allow yourself to grieve, and have self compassion. Give it time. It's not easy to let go of the fantasy life, because it's something that soothes us in difficult times. Practice plenty of self care. Do something you enjoy and engage in play, rest and creativity.

Cultivate mindfulness, gratitude and radical acceptance. Find ways to embrace the present moment and enjoy the little things each day. A regular mindfulness meditation practice could be beneficial. There’s also apps like Presently for recording what you’re grateful for each day.

I love the song 'Myth' by Beach House. I see my fantasy self as a kind of mythic story I created about myself and my life. I like how the song emphasises the power of naming it and identifying it - because when we do, it can help us to see clearly and to eventually let it go. 

[Verse 1] Drifting in and out, you see the road you're on It came rollin' down your cheek, you say just what you mean And in-between, it's never as it seems [Chorus] Help me to name it Help me to name it [Verse 2] If you built yourself a myth, you'd know just what to give What comes after this momentary bliss? The consequence of what you do to me [Chorus] Help me to name it Help me to name it [Bridge] Found yourself in a new direction Arrows fallin' from the sun Canyon callin', would they come to greet you? Let you know you're not the only one [Verse 3] Can't keep hangin' on to what is dead and gone If you built yourself a myth, you'd know just what to give Materialize or let the ashes fly [Chorus] Help me to name it Help me to name it

Further Resources

Radical Acceptance Guided Meditation

Letting Go of Fantasies and Wishing Things Were Different

Bury The Fantasy to Let Go of the “If Onlys”

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Dating Apps are Utilizing Images from the Siege To Ban Rioters’ Accounts

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[ezraspiderwick]

lost in the fire

Din offering to walk you home is a proposal you can't refuse

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Rating: +18, minors please go away, thank you!

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), sex, blindfolds, helmetless!Din and soft!Din

A/N: should I be posting smut at 1 am? who knows, anyway this is set after ch.5 of TBOBF but contains no spoilers for the show. One-shot

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As the night sky slowly turns into day the last people in the bar, most of them regulars, go home, their words slurring when they say goodbye and promise to be back soon. You wave at them from behind the counter like every night, a tired but friendly smile on your face. Once the last customer leaves you collapse on the nearest chair and check your communicator for any messages. You’re supposed to be meeting your best friend in a couple of hours for your belated birthday celebration. You notice a message has arrived, but your illusion and happiness are quickly replaced by disappointment as you read the words.

Work is busy today. Really sorry. Raincheck?

Sighing and without bothering to answer you put the communicator away. You wouldn’t mind him canceling your plans had this not been the third time in a row in no less than two weeks. Was his work really taking that much time or did he just not want to make an effort to see you? Locking away your thoughts and the pain nagging at your heart you decide this is a problem for future you, one who doesn’t have to wash a dozen of glasses in order to finish her shift.

You round the glasses into the counter and proceed to arrange the alcohol bottles when out of the corner of your eye you see movement. With your breath speeding up you hold the bottle as if it was a weapon and walk over there. As you approach the spot you see it’s no other than the Mandalorian, his untouched drink on the table. In the commotion of the night, you thought you saw him leaving a long time ago but guess you had been wrong.

“Just because you’re a semi-regular client doesn’t mean you can sleep here, sorry,” you tell him, plopping down on the opposite seat. A couple of seconds pass and he doesn’t move, making you wonder if he has already dozed off. What are you going to do if he has? It’s not like you can leave him here, your boss, who wasn’t particularly fond of the man, wouldn’t appreciate that decision.

“I’ll be on my way,” he replies startling you out of your thoughts. After your initial surprise has worn off, you reflect on the sadness that tints his otherwise neutral voice. He reaches into his pocket and places some credits on the table, more than enough to pay for the untouched drink. He is about to stand when you stop him by resting your hand on top of his. He looks at you in surprise, but you pretend not to notice, picking the glass with your other hand and turning it around, letting the liquid flow from one side to the other.

“I don’t know what you’re dealing with, but whatever it is this could help.” He nods and takes the glass from you. “Just you and me here and I’m going to the back for a bit so feel free to you know, take that off,” you motion to his helmet. Tapping his hand one last time you stand up.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” you grin. “Anything for my favorite Mandalorian.” You blow him a kiss and could swear he softly chuckles in response.

There’s really nothing for you to do in the back, inventory is not due until next week. You decide to count until one hundred, that ought to be enough time for him to drink his beverage in peace. You’re only one-third of the way there when your thoughts shift from numbers to the man in the other room, the memories of his hands on your body making your heart race, you’ve always had a good time whenever he was in town. Perhaps your best friend canceling on you was a gift in disguise, guess you’ll find out if he’s in the mood for a more friendly interaction. When you deem enough time has gone by you announce you’re coming back.

“Better?” you ask taking the empty glass from the table.

“Yes. Thank you.” You stay in silence for a solid minute, neither of you making a move until he finally speaks. “May I walk you home?”

“Of course.” You eye the still dirty glasses on the counter and the one you hold in your hand, resigning yourself to come early next shift to finish the cleaning. You go out closing the place behind. The two of you walk side by side in comfortable silence as you watch the sky change colors into different shades of pinks and oranges. You are home in no time, which depending on what happens next could be terrible or extraordinary news. “Thank you,” you tell him with a smile on your face.

“It was my pleasure.” You stay there looking at each other for half a minute more until he speaks again. “Do you have any plans for today?” You can’t help but grin at his attempt of being smooth, he may have numerous strengths but that one isn’t one of them.

“Just relaxing in my cozy warm bed all by myself—” You let a couple of seconds pass, the tension between you rising, before continuing “—unless you want to join me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growls. You place a hand on his chest, the metal of the armor cold against your skin, and slowly lick your lips.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you lean forward until your face is an inch away from the helmet. “Are you afraid?”

“Never.” He pushes you until your back is against the door. “Are you opening the door or are we doing it here?” he whispers and your heart pounds at the question. He places his finger against your left breast and trails a path down your body until your pants, fishing a key from the pocket. “Your choice.”

You snatch the key from him and open the door. Once inside you waste no time getting to the bedroom. “C’mon off with the beskar.” You sit on the bed ready to enjoy the show. He takes his time taking the armor off piece by piece and carefully placing them on the floor, only leaving his helmet on. You appreciate the outline of his muscles against his clothes. Your gaze never leaves his body as he gets rid of each piece of clothing except for his underwear, which clearly showcases a growing bulge.

You stand up and walk to him. You trace the scars on his chest with your fingers, your lips placing a kiss on each of them. Once your hands reach his boxers, you slip your fingers between them and his skin. Going down to your knees you pull the underwear to his feet, your face ending right in front of his cock. You stay there for a moment with a smile while he keeps perfectly still wondering what your next move is. Placing a kiss on his lower belly and casually brushing your hand against him you stand up, causing a whimper to escape his lips. The way this usually stoic man responds to your touch intoxicates you.

“My turn,” he says, and you let him take control, shivering under his touch. He starts with your blouse, unbuttoning it slowly. Once that is off, he goes for your bra, his breath hitches when your breasts are freed. He cups them on his hands, and you suspect that if the helmet wasn’t there, he’d be nibbling at your nipples. After a moment of admiration, he moves to your pants, moaning when he notices your wet panties. You squirm in anticipation as he goes to your drawer and returns with a black piece of cloth, the necessary item in all your encounters. Or at least in the ones he wants to use his mouth on you.

“Turn around,” he commands gently. Giving one last look to his body you do as he asks. He moves your hair out of the way and places the blindfold, making sure it’s not too tight or too loose. With your sight gone your other senses heighten, his presence behind you is overwhelming. There’s the sound of his helmet being taken off and then he hugs you, his mouth trailing a path of kisses going from the side of your neck to the back. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, making you quiver and guides you to the bed. “So beautiful,” he repeats as he pushes you onto your back and captures your lips on his. Your hands are in his hair, the soft curls trapped under your fingers.

“You’re too,” you breathe out.

“How can you know that?” There’s that sadness back in his voice, making your heart ache.

“Only pretty people can kiss like this.” You pull him back to you, softly biting on his lower lip, earning a moan.

.

This is not the first time he has seen you laying like this for him, but each time he can’t help but really take you in, your curves, the shape of your body, the way you squirm under his touch. There are few times where he gets to interact with another being without a helmet and he always savors every single moment. The only thing he misses is seeing your eyes, he bets the painting in front of him would be so much more beautiful so much more complete with your gaze.

He traces your body with his lips, starting on your breasts he descends to your thighs, leaving bite marks here and there, an indication you’re his. He kisses the interior side of each thighs and you tremble when you feel him so close. The moment he lets his tongue circle your clit a curse comes from you and your hands find their way to his hair encouraging him to continue. God, he loves the sound of your voice. He keeps tracing circles and sucking gently, enjoying the salty taste that fills his mouth.

He senses how close you are to blissfulness, and he stops, making you grunt in frustration. With his tongue on your body, he traces the path back to your mouth until your lips are on his, and only then does he continue the work his tongue left unfinished with his fingers.

When you’re once again close to coming, he pulls his lips from yours despite your protests and moves next to your ear. “You’re so good for me angel, so good.” He speeds the movement of his fingers and can feel you trembling under his touch. “I want to hear you,” he whispers.

“Oh god. Oh god. Please.” Upon hearing the beautiful words he can cause from you a wish sets upon his heart. It might be reckless, he might regret it, but he gives in to his desire, he wants nothing more than to hear you scream his name so in an instant of impulsivity he whispers it to you.

“What?” You slightly turn your head panting, not quite registering what he told you.

“Din. That’s my name, it’s yours to scream angel.” He continues moving his fingers until you tense up and clench your legs around his arm, your body shaking from the high and your lips exhaling his name. He keeps his touch gentle as he carries you through the orgasm until he’s sure you’re finished.

“A man who carries a name as beautiful as Din can only be just as beautiful.” You say once you manage to regain your breath. The way you say his name is so nice, so loving and he wants to keep hearing it forever. You cup his cheeks with your hands, tracing over his cheekbone with your thumbs. You pull him to you and capture his lips, kissing him gently. And Din makes a decision.

.

Din.

You savor the delightful name on your lips. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder what made him tell you. But you don’t have time to entertain the question for too long as he kisses your neck and lightly bites down on your shoulder, enough to leave a mark but not to hurt. You move your hands through his back, dragging your nails over his strong muscles. He pulls you up until you’re sitting and moves his hands to the blindfold.

“What are you doing?” You ask placing your hands on his arms once he moves it down a bit.

“You don’t need this.” His voice is one of a confident yet unsure man.

“What?”

“You don’t need to wear it.”

“What changed?” you ask but he stays silent so you try another question. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He moves his hands to the back of your head and unties the blindfold. Once it comes off, you blink a few times as your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness of the room. When your vision is back you set your gaze on the man in front of you. You see his brown curls, the ones you have felt so many times under your fingers, you see his red lips, the ones that have made you scream so many times and you see his kind brown eyes on yours, waiting for your reaction.

“See? I told you. Beautiful.” You close the space between you and give him a peck on the lips. And then another on his mustache, on his chin, on his cheek, you can’t seem to stop placing kisses all over him now that you have his handsome face in front of you. He relaxes under the ministrations of your mouth. While you kiss his shoulder, you take his cock on your hand, moving it up and down, his breath hitching. You circle his tip with your finger, gathering precum you take it to your mouth, sucking on your finger, your eyes never leaving his.

“You’re gorgeous,” he purrs and gently lays you on your back, slipping himself into you. With each thrust, you can feel your stomach churning and the climax building up. He takes one hand down to your clit and the moment he rubs it you’re a goner. As your vision momentarily goes black, your walls clench around him, and with a grunt, he comes too. You hold each other through the high and once he recovers he slips out of you and moves to your side. You place your head on his chest and he holds you with both arms placing a kiss on your head.

Once your breath slows down Din knows you have fallen asleep. As you lay on his chest, he stays perfectly still, for the first time in his life he won’t leave. At least not today, at least not right now. He remembers how you pronounced his name with such a passion and ferocity but also careful and loving. He remembers your gaze when you made love, your kind eyes on his and he feels complete. Maybe, just maybe, there’s more than one way to life.

.

Taglist: @sunflowersturn​ @littlemisspascal​

[punemy-spotted]

Dead Trees Like Lavender Fields Chapter 4

Chapter 4: In the Blood of the Lamb

Pairing: Old One!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Elements, Dub-Con, Soft!Dark Characters, Dark! Characters, Cult Elements, Human/Animal Sacrifice, Religious Elements, Blasphemy, Cosmic/Dark Horror, Stalking, Possessive/Obsessive Characters, Appalachian/Mountain Gothic, Gothic Horror, Descriptions of Death and Rot and Poverty, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3

Chapter Warnings: Non-Con elements, Sexual Harassment, Aggressive Religious Themes, Pentecostal Themes, Murder, Dark Woods and Cosmic Horror, Some Allusions to Abuse, Possessive Language, Sergeant Barnes is Not A Good Man Really

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY AND IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE CONTENT THAT IS BEING PRESENTED, PLEASE DO NOT READ

Chapter Summary: This is not your home.

An autopsy of faith, a congregation of corpses, a murder of faithful crows, gathered in the humble lights of cadaverous sanctity, claiming nothing more than the air they rattled through the desiccated woodsheds of their bodies, singing softly that this is not our home.

- Old Gods of Appalachia, Episode 3: The Covenant

Notes: Yes I know this is late and also that I got a lot of other shit to write but I missed writing during the spooky season and Fall is about to turn into Winter so it’s happening now. As always, feedback is appreciated and I will attempt to return to my old self soon.

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

There are things in the woods deeper and darker than any devil mentioned in Pastor Rogers’s Bible, forces of evil so malignant they would laugh in the face of any God — Christian or otherwise — foolish enough to face them in their own domain.

Eugene Paul Tucker is no God.

Not by any claim of his, no, and most definitely not by any judgment they would cast upon him, them foremen and watchers in the mines or the hootin’ and hollerin’ congregation which descended ‘pon the Tabernacle’s worship hall every Sunday, acting like them hymns could go and cover up the sins of the flesh they partook in when the bells stopped ringin’. No, Eugene Paul Tucker is no God.

If you ask his sister Estus, newly promoted t’matriarch of the Tucker clan since Granny Mabel finally breathed her last, Eugene Paul Tucker was barely a man.

Men, she’d’ve sneered if you asked her, prolly while porin’ over her cannin’ like she always did come harvest time, like a good matriarch ought, Don’t go off an’ lose their fool wives in the woods.

Not a God and barely a man, but deep in the domain of the things in the woods deeper and darker than devil mentioned in Pastor Rogers’s big, bound-leather Bible, alone.

Now, that’s a deadly proposition in itself, bein’ alone in the deep-dark. Granny always warned ‘em, spittin’ tobacco an’ Hellfire while she raved about them bears and adders and lord-only-knows-what, ‘bout them beasts who ripped ‘part her favorite daughter-in-law.

Granny woulda thrown a right conniption fit if she found out Gene’d lost his wife in the same haint-damned woods which took his own momma.

Good thing she was dead.

… not so good for him.

Eliza! Lizzie, girl, c’mon! Ain’t no reason t’go runnin’ off, sweetheart!

The woods crack under his feet, twigs bend and break with each heavy press of his minin’ boots on the thick underbrush, Lizzie! Good God, woman, come on home! Woods ain’t no place for you or the baby!

The baby.

Lord in Heaven above, his baby. What sort of damn fool loses his wife and baby? Wife and baby on the day of her — the baby’s, mind you — own christenin’, t’boot.

Same sort of man who fails to tell his wife just what sort of future lay in front of their new child, the promise of her namin’ was about to carry, the deal he made to make it out alive from the mines.

A life for a life, blood for blood, what you make I will take.

Anything.

Anything to keep the man in the mine’s hands from his throat, t’keep him alive in that deep dark, keep the coal from turnin’ into a catacomb.

We had a deal, the voice behind him is the rumble of an exploding mine, shaking earth and searing screams, molten flesh and soulless husks left to be sobbed over by the wives and babies left behind. Eugene Paul narrowly manages to avoid falling to his knees at the sound, goes still as the stone he’s mined since he was a boy of eight. There will be time to beg later, he tells himself, though he has no idea how much time or how much later he has.

We had a deal, Eugene Paul Tucker, the voice repeats, billowing smoke filling his lungs as his name is called and he turns, slowly, reluctantly, faces the darkness before him and the two glittering embers boring into his soul.

N-now hang on! He protests, facing his accuser, I still — I gotta find her, that’s all. I’ll bring her back, Lizzie’s a good girl. She ain’t been gone for that long, she’ll listen!

It is a lie. Of course it is, and his accuser only laughs, the high metallic ring of pick-ax on stone, of escaped gases meeting an errant spark, You are out of time, Eugene Paul Tucker. You are out of time, and we have come to collect.

And while Eliza-Anne Tucker runs, to be found by the Pennsylvania State Troopers called to investigate the sound of a cryin’-baby-that-definitely-wasn’t-no-goddamn-fox, the only remnants the woods leave of Eugene Paul Tucker are his big leather boots.

Family, we are blessed this day.

Pastor Rogers has a voice like a cave-in, closes around you like it’s trying to choke you, fills your lungs with worship and coal, pours over you with a roar and you swear your very chest aches as he begins to speak from his carved bone-and-antler pulpit.

Family, we are truly blessed this day.

Before you, a man who is secretly a mountain bellows scripture out with the force of a raging forge, salvation seeping in through the gaps in the windows and snaking around a rapt congregation, their voices already raised up in a discordant choir of holy praise and pleading to a Lord who you do not completely believe is actually as merciful as the good Pastor pretends.

Beside you, a coal-and-fire hand rests on your knee, traces the outlines of the polka dots decorating your new Church dress, a present from the Pastor’s own wife, Welcome to the Holler, honeysweet, and you do everything your power has to look at no one. Not him, not the Pastor and his eyes like ice, not Aunt Estus busy corralling her boys or Uncle Cletus glaring from the very back — where he apparently always sat ‘cause he couldn’t last ten minutes without sucking down a cigarette and the Tabernacle had a strict no-smoking rule courtesy of the Women’s Auxiliary’s health campaigns.

Your hands, you decide, currently holding the family Bible which brought you here in the first place, are a much safer thing to look at.

Now, I ask you, family, I ask you — why? A pause as the Pastor surveys his flock, listens to the hum of the Holy Spirit pulse through the room, smug surety on his face as his lips stretch wide into that tombstone smile you almost — almost — recall having seen before, and immediately regret looking up at.

Your momma’s memories may have belonged to her and her alone in life, but death has a way of bringing people together.

At the front of the room, Pastor Rogers continues to boom, Family. Brothers and Sisters in the Lord, we are blessed this day because one of our lambs has returned to us. Our Lamb has returned home. High above you, the rafters echo his voice — home home home hallelujah.

The congregation rises in chorus, a palace of Amen and Hallelujah and Thank you, Lord, built, brick-by-reverent-brick, all around you and you hold back the destructive scream rising in your throat — this is not my home — while your mouth floods with metal and you realize you have bitten your tongue.

Blood for blood.

Family, the Lord is our Savior and our Shepherd. He maketh us lay in green pastures and we thank Him, Family, for the Glory and the Grace, we thank Him for His Love and he thank Him for He has Shepherded our prodigal daughter home. Welcome our daughter back to the flock, won’t you, Family, won’t you say hello?

You could almost drown in it.

Maybe you do, drown in wave after wave of blessings and praise and Hallelujah, Amen all accompanied by the harsh, guttural babbling of what you can only hope is the power of the Holy Ghost descending upon the faithful flock of the Tabernacle of the Holy Trinity, all watched over by the cave-in collapse of Pastor Rogers and his roaring voice, arms outstretched as shadows twist around that bone-and-antler pulpit.

Run.

There are lights in the woods.

You almost don’t notice them at first, stepping out of the Tabernacle’s worship hall as the Sunday Sermon comes to an end and a meal is laid out for the faithful — and the lapsed, you consider, wondering how much they would really welcome you home if your mother hadn’t left the Church the way she did. Almost.

See — just like your momma’s second husband used to tell you when the drink set in and the drill instructor came out — almost only works when you’re playin’ horseshoes and hand grenades. And seeing the green lights in the woods just on the outskirts of town, well, that’s a zero-sum game.

So, standing on the back porch of the Tabernacle of the Holy Trinity while the town of Bell’s Holler buzzes around you with plates and hungry bellies, you see the lights in the woods.

And oh Lord, they see you.

Like lantern lights, swaying faintly in a still breeze, held aloft by invisible hands. A path of phosphorescent mystery and calling voices, beckoning you into the yawning mouth of the inevitable.

Right down the path your momma took, straight into them shadow trees, the hungry embrace of something greedy and unknowable, waiting. Waiting for you to come back home, back to where you belong.

Your throat aches. The collar tugs.

You runnin’ off already, kitten? Sergeant Barnes’s voice is ash and honey, flowing into your senses and tearing you away from the freedom just beyond that copse of trees at the edge of town.

You turn. Too quick, too hurried, too startled, too stupid to realize how close you are to the edge of the porch until that coal-and-fire hand you’ve seen in your nightmares dreams is wrapped around your wrist and dragging you away from a backbreaking tumble, right into the hard wall of the Sergeant’s chest and too close to him from any comfort you might draw from the impromptu rescue.

S’I said — you runnin’ off already, kitten? Somethin’ in the woods catch your eye?

You may not have been smart enough to heed your momma when she told you to never come to these haint-damned woods but you are clever enough to know when to hold your tongue — telling the good Sergeant anything about the lights in the woods would just get back to your Aunt Estus and she was already so adamant on outstaying your vacation here at the Holler. That was your route out, you could feel it in your bones. As long as you timed it right.

You startled me, you accuse instead, breezing past his own suspicion with another bright, marketing manager smile, peeling yourself from his chest and standing on your own — further away from the edge this time.

Just in case.

Coal-dark eyes train on you as you pull away, moving faster than you expected you would after being caught by him but not trapped by him. Not yet, at the very least.

Instead, all the good Sergeant does is smile. Thinkin’ ‘bout runnin into those woods like your momma did? You sure we’ll let you go this time, sweetheart?

Excuse me?

The pitch of your voice rises, not the soft thing you were raised to be — your momma couldn’t put the fire in you out, nor did she ever really want to, ‘cept when it came to you tryin’ to burn your way out of her clutches — but the good Sergeant before you barely reacts except to expand his smirk… and stalk closer to you.

Think we didn’t learn our lesson from Eliza runnin’ off into the woods, sweetheart? Don’t be silly.

I don’t know what you’re talking about, you lie, you lie you lie you lie, still stepping back, avoiding his eye, avoiding his grip, avoiding his accusations.

Tellin’ lies ain’t your thing, sweetheart.

I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about, I—

He cuts you off, fingers cold on your cheek as he takes hold of your jaw and pushes you back, trapped between the hate-cold of his eyes and the hard-brick of the house of the Lord, Always on the run, aren’t you kitten? How far do you think you’ll go before I catch you, huh? Wanna test it out? Could even give you a head start, if you ask nice, sweetheart.

Your teeth ache from the pressure, grit and grinding, fingers curled against unyielding metal and you mirror his hate, trying to pry him away, Let… let me go—

You think I’m gonna let you get away so quickly? I’ve been waiting a lo—

Sergeant Barnes, there you are!

Ma Rogers is just like you remember from your first morning here, sweet orange and sunshine, sauntering her way across the back lawn of the Tabernacle. Comfortable in her gravidity, swollen with the pride of a new generation growing in her belly, a queen in her own right commanding the Kingdom of the Lord, James Buchanan Barnes, I been lookin’ for you all over God’s creation an’ here you are, harassin’ our guest, where are your manners? Pastor’s been hollerin’ for you, so go on, git!

Cool air washes over you and fills your lungs, replacing smoke and fire with the warm spring of honeysuckle and fresh rain as the grip on your jaw is released and Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes turns around, looks properly abashed at the sound of the matriarch of Bell’s Holler’s ire and you know in your bones that this is not a woman to be trifled with.

A woman you are grateful for more than you can name in this moment, as she makes her steady way up the porch and points a slender finger that does not look as work wizened as you know they are, having seen her wrist-deep in her garden plenty of times since your arrival to town, since the first time you spent sipping tea and nibbling bites of apple cake in her parlor while the Pastor and the Foreman went about whatever business it was a Pastor and a Foreman needed to do in the dark edges of town. Now don’t let me catch you causin’ trouble again, James Buchanan Barnes, I know you been raised better than that.

You almost expect her tirade to last longer, shrill and rapid enough to give the Sergeant — looking less like a leader of men and more like a boy bein’ scolded by his granny — no room to interject, defend himself, stop her verbal lashing, but it ends just as soon as it begins, this time with the Sergeant slinking off into the crowd to deal with whatever it was the Pastor needed him for.

Whatever it is, you do not — and cannot bring yourself to — care. Senses fixated on the sanctuary of your savior’s presence, rescued a second time and just as grateful and shocked by it, you just lean yourself against the hard brick and breathe, steadying the race of your heart and trying to find the strength in you to smile. Thank you, managed a little hesitantly, still watching the Sergeant’s retreating back until he was gone into the crowd.

Don’t you fret, honey, Ma Rogers sets down the basket she’d been carrying against her hip, full up of canned vegetables she’d brought from her stores to share with the… less fortunate members of town, as the Virtue of Charity demanded of all citizens of the Holler with the means to do so, That no-good fool of a Foreman’s bark’s worse than his bite. I’ll make sure the Pastor sets him right — Lord knows he ought to know better than start his antics up on a Sunday.

She rambles slightly, hands on her hips and glancing back like she too might be making sure the Sergeant knew he’d been beat, just for now, If it wasn’t the Lord’s day itself, I’d’ve tanned his hide — but that’s neither here nor there, c’mere, honey, lemme get a look at you. Did he hurt you any?

Your jaw feels bruised and still, you just shake your head, offering as quick a smile as you can manage, No ma’am, thank you. Just startled me.

The tut of her tongue is disbelief, but dismissal all the same, No use pressing, is the unspoken agreement between the both of you, and you… accept that.

No use pressing.

Somewhere below, a cry goes up from the crowd, a call from one of the Rogers’s girls to come fill empty plates and sate hungry bellies and before you can ask any more questions, Ma Rogers beckons you forth, Let’s get a meal in you, honey, afore you start lookin’ as you might keel over again.

And as you follow her down the porch steps over to the banquet set before you, you forget about the yawning mouth of the unknown and the path wound through the green, calling you into the darkness of the inevitable.

It does not forget you.

[another-fantasy-world]

Pulled

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Title: Pulled

Pairings: (Romantic) Wanda Maximoff x Reader, (Platonic) Avengers x Reader, (Familial) Natasha Romanoff x Reader, (Familial) Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The Avengers, Earth's chosen heroes. You thought the name was absurd, and you knew that being around them is trouble, especially since the son of Odin himself is working with them. But of course, no matter how much you tried to pull away, no matter the consequences of you being a demon, they still insist on pulling you back, among all of them, she insists the most.

Warnings: Canon Violence. Demons. Mentions of Hell

Additional Tags: Wanda being the best girlfriend for a demon. Natasha being a soft mom. Tony being the annoying brother. Avengers being the lovable idiots that they are. Pietro being alive is my shit.

Reader Pronouns: She/They

Word Count: 3276 words

GIF isn’t mine but boy do I adore it. Feedback is much appreciated. Thank you and Enjoy Reading! Requests are open, see pinned post for more info

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Grief. Pain. Sadness. Anger. Guilt. Fear.  Six of the most common negative emotions one human can have, and somehow, this two human children had them all. You silently watched as this human girl and her twin brother hide under the bed to protect themselves from the bomb just 3 feet from them. You can sense both their fears, it's what led you to them in the first place. The intense fear and emotional pain in their souls was intoxicating, it makes you want to devour it and take their souls straight to hell. But for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to enhance it, to give them more pain, just for your own sake.

So even as your hunger clawed and begged to be satisfied, you ignored it, looking for something to comfort the trembling twins. Out the corner of your eye, you saw the damaged TV, making quick work of fixing it with your magic, turning it on, only to find the girl's glowing red eyes trained at your naturally red eyes. Your eyes widened as you realized she could see you. You then turned your attention to the other twin, his child-like eyes staring right at your non-existent soul.

“And you can see me. Great.” You voiced out, sighing. You didn't even know why your glamour didn't work on these two brats.

“Yes.” They answered timidly, Heavy Sokovian accents ringing throughout the air.

“Are you scared?” You ask them, tucking your wings in as to not scare them further more, much to your displeasure. You didn't really know why you're acting like this.

“No.” You smiled at their response, they were lying of course, but it was adorable nonetheless.

You debated on what to do next, you could erase their memories of you but quickly realized that you couldn't considering this human child is a witch. You sighed, you rarely interfere with human foolishness, the outcomes of said foolishness make up for your daily meal, so you leave them be, but for some reason you were being pulled to do the opposite.

“This is going to be the last time you see me.” You state coldly, refusing to get attached.

You maneuver your magic to levitate the bed they were currently hiding under, gray wisps of magic enveloping the bomb to keep them from detonating, you watch as the human girl seems fascinated with what she sees despite the life-threatening situation they are in right now. The human boy dragging his sister towards you as you envelop them in your magic as well, protecting them for what's about to come.

“Hold on.” You say, their arms wrapping around yours as you extend your wings and fly upwards, the air harmless to the children in your arms when it should have killed them based on your speed alone. You looked down at them, the human girl buried her face into you as fear mixed with relief pulsed out of her. The human boy on the other hand, looked ecstatic with the speed you are going at.

'Children' You thought, chuckling lightly.

You both dropped them off at the local Sokovian orphanage, prompting to leave when the human girl tugged on your black wings making you look back.

“Yes?” You asked

“Stay” She says, smiling. You smiled back, despite seeing how the events of today slowly dawned on both of them, pain filling both of their eyes.

You just shook your head sadly, a frown quickly settling at your face, realizing you let your guard down, before flying away, disappearing in a blink of an eye.

You never thought you would see them again years later, all grown up.  You were on an errand appointed to you by your brother when you stumbled upon Sokovia. The place swarmed with ridiculous looking military. Your eyes widening as you see them displaying their powers fighting against the Avengers. You smiled softly and rolled your eyes when you saw that the human boy now had super speed and the human girl had her witchy tendencies, beautiful red wisps of magic floating through the air, as a human man, named Captain America, tumbled down the stairs.

“We have another enhanced. Female. Do not engage.” You frowned at that, they're treating her like a threat, and that didn't place right with you. Prompting to leave this problem to future you, you left

“Enhanced?” You ask yourself as you flew away, not having the courage to face the twins right now.

Days pass and you still barely have the courage to give in to the pull that they both had, you spent the days you had trying to find whatever it is that you have with the two of them, it was something you cannot explain with words. The pull was extremely hard to ignore, it was a bond of some sort. But you never made a contract with them, did you accidentally make one? But this feels like something more, it wasn't just a normal contract, it feels much more intimate, familial in a sense.

You were reading ancient books, feeling particularly annoyed at the pathetic wails of souls being tortured, annoyed that your brother decided placing his torture chamber near your library where it should be quiet, quiet enough to read without some human soul screaming their hearts out as they are force to relive their most painful memories over and over again.

Your head snapped up when you felt intense amount of anger and pain course through your veins, you dropped the book you were reading and immediately materialized on Earth, finding the human girl in a headlock.

Your vision blurred, only seeing red, you charged towards the man, slamming him to the glass, breaking it, walking forward more, you slammed him to the wall, gripping his neck, you could see green slowly seeping from it. You clenched your teeth, feeling hot flames bursting from around you, cracks emerging from the concrete as molten lava seeps through. Your magic prevented him from transforming. Your eyes a vicious black as anger pumped throughout your whole being. You could feel the monster in you, clawing it's way out, telling you to rip this man's head off and feed it to Cerberus, taking his soul to the deepest, darkest depths of hell.

“Go on. Piss me off.” You growled out, mocking his words, your black wings extending, hiding the both of you from the other's view, who stopped fighting as soon as you materialized from the ground.

Gripping harder now, you ought to kill him, enduring the pain of random blasts and the feeling of a vibranium shield repeatedly being slammed into your wings.

Soft red wisps wrapped around your wrist, comforting you, lowering your guard for a little, allowing the human girl to touch you. Her hands running through the feathers that your wings had.

“It's okay. I'm okay. You don't have to.” Her soft voice rang through your ears, making you drop the coughing man and hold her hand.

“Are you sure?” Your voice raspy from growling.

She just nodded, gripping your hand as well. You didn't even notice the commotion happening. You didn't notice Thor slamming in, zapping the capsule like thing. You didn't notice the android emerging, You didn't notice a single thing. Not until she let go of your hands did you regain senses.

“I thought you said we weren't going to see you again.” She says, making you face her

“Uhm.” You gulped, now that you took at good look at the human girl, she certainly...enhanced herself since you last saw her.

She raised her brows as her head tilted, staring up at you. You felt as thou you were the one being hunted, rather than being the hunter that you are.

“Things change, Little Witch.” You tried to steady yourself, nearly losing your footing at the blue blur that ran past you.

“Wingie! You came back!” The human boy exclaimed.

“...Wingie? What the fuck?” You thought as you narrowed your eyes at them. Watching as the woman chuckled, you looked at her pointedly, knowing that she read your mind, to which she just shrugged.

“You refer to us as human boy and human girl. We refer to you as wingie, it's a fair deal isn't it?” She smirked, her Sokovian accent sending shivers down your spine.

“It is not.” You stood straigher. A frown placed on your face as you knew you needed to leave and cut ties with them. Even if you did not want to, Demon-Human relationships are strictly forbidden, unless they willingly sign their soul to you.

As if sensing this, The human girl took a hold of your wings and tugged on it, giving you a sense of nostalgia

“Stay.” She says with finality.

“I guess it would be nice for you both to tell me your name.” You say after a moment of silence, hissing slightly when you see a mark forming on your palm.

You had given in to their bond, they have successfully pulled you in. It left you wondering how this happened and why has your father, the almighty God, allowed this. Better question, why did Luci never interrupt this bond, he just let it be, even when you asked him about it, he nonchalantly says that you should give in. What better purpose does this have?

“...Now I really need your name.” You mumble out, spotting the glowing marks they both had shining through their clothes.

“Ooooohkay. What is happening around here?” You tore your gaze from the twins to look at the tin man.

“Please do not talk tin man. This does not concern you. However, I believe that The First Son of Odin can help you satisfy your curiosity about me.” You say, gaze returning to the twins.

“Wanda.”

“Pietro.”

“Y/N.” You smiled.

“You now have a personal demon at your command.” You grin, showing your true fiery self to them, bowing like a servant, surprising them a little, Then laughed, comfortable with teasing you at how ugly you looked in your true form, which also made you laugh. A memory you will never forget.

-

“What's in your mind darling?” Wanda brings you back to reality, her hands softly holding your face.

Tony was kind enough to give you a whole floor to yourselves in the tower, it now looked like a big apartment with a 70's theme due to you and Wanda's modifications just last night. Your wife did have a knack for changing your apartment's theme to different eras, you suspect it's from her love of sitcoms so you just let her be. Besides, her sitcoms are growing on you.

“How we met.” You state, a content smile on your face while tracing the mark she had.

The room you both shared is enveloped in your magic, the illusion showing the night sky, shooting stars passing through despite being in broad daylight.

“Hmmn. You traveled far.”  She chuckled, nuzzling further into your wings. You chuckled.

“You love my wings more than me, my love, why must you be like this?” You teased her

“They're softer than you.” She teased back

“You wound me little witch.” You lean in to kiss her, only to be interrupted, your illusion breaking as the door slammed open

“EW EW EW EW EW!” A blue blur barged in, only to run out again.

You huffed out in annoyance, It's 7am and Pietro is already annoying you.

“Why must I also have a bond with that prick.” You grumbled under your breath, burying your face into Wanda's neck.

“Because he's my brother, and you, my love, are my wife. That makes you his sister as well.” She says, pecking your lips multiple times, her Sokovian accent slipping out.

“Mrs. Maximoff, and Other Mrs. Maximoff. Ms. Romanoff wanted me to remind you of your training at 8:30 am after breakfast. And Mr. Stark is demanding you both to have breakfast with the team” FRIDAY, the AI's voice rang out.

“Thank you FRIDAY.” You muttered out, begrudgingly getting up from your shared bed, your wings limp as if sharing your sadness, much to your wife's amusement.

“I don't get it. At all. We've been doing this for 8 years now. Why do I still have to train?” You whined, walking into the dining room where the rest of the Avengers are.

“Because, you little devil, you rely on your powers too much. Hand-to-hand combat is necessary.” Natasha pats your back, grabbing her newly made peanut butter sandwich.

Natasha met you after Bruce saved her from Ultron, your powers saved her by smashing in two robots to the ground, which seemed to amuse her, plus seeing you with horns made her laugh. The next day, she approached you asking if you wanted to spar with her, and you cockily said yes, boasting that you'll beat her in a minute. You were proven wrong, your ass got handed to you every single time, proving that you can't make it through life without your powers.

“And yet, you don't tell Tony to train.” You deadpanned at Natasha, and she looked at you like how an angry mother looks at a child throwing a tantrum.

You accidentally read Natasha's mind one day when you were starving, refusing to feed off your family's emotions, despite them being filled with negative emotions because, the receiver of a demon feeding feels intense pain as said demon sucks their emotions out, leaving them exhausted, sometimes in a coma, and sometimes just dead, it's soul going straight down to hell. She was thinking about how she thinks of you as her daughter, albeit being thousands of years older than her. You just shrugged and went along with it,  finding it funny, until you accidentally called her 'Mom' when she got shot, sending the one who shot her down to the pits of hell. And since then it just stuck.

“Because I'm a genius, devilious.” You rolled your eyes at his ego and his horrible nickname.

“Dumbass.” You murmured

“Bitch.” He shot back

“Jerk.” You retaliated. Puffing your wings up to hopefully intimidate him but he just powered up his reactor and threatened to blast you.

“Okay, enough from the both of you.” Wanda gave you a pointed look which had you pouting

“No powers on the dining table!” Pepper scolded.

“Sorry.” you mumbled, directing your attention to the elevator doors as they open to reveal Clint on the phone.

Your eyes drifted to Pietro as you both shared a smirk, if there's one thing that you both could agree on, is that you both love to piss off Clint, who despite being retired, visits the tower often.

You subtly use your powers to tie Clint's shoelaces together as Pietro sped to him, taking his phone.

“Hey!” He complained, taking a step to run after Pietro only to slam, face first into a pillow?

Your eyes then lifted up to see Wanda's glowing eyes, her hands wrapped with a red mist as you see Pietro being dragged into the room by said mist.

“Oh shit.” You murmured, seeing her head tilt, it's common knowledge to run when Wanda tilts her head, it's terrifying as fuck.

“...We can talk about this...” You say, slowly backing up. She just raised her brows

“Whipped.” Clint whispered tauntingly as he passed you

“Take it to the training room kids.” Natasha says, her steaming black coffee nestled in her palms

“I didn't even eat yet.” You whined, plopping yourself away from your wife, beside the metal armed man who pushed the plate of toast towards you.

“Are we still going to ignore how devilious is a literal demon and she's scared of Wondie?” Tony teased, bouncing Morgan on his lap while she drinks her milk.

“Okay. Tony, Tony, Tony. Stare me straight in the eyes, look at me, look, look. Come on, look into my eyes-”

“Yes, I'm looking into your “natural” red eyes, they still look like contacts” He says, air quoting the word natural

“First of all, they are natural. Second, stare right into my eyes and tell me that my wife isn't the MOST TERRIFYING PERSON YOU EVER MET!?”

“Meh.” He says, smirking

“Oh-hoho! Ouch.” You say playfully with a grimace, jaw dropping with a look of offense on your face.

“Let's just agree that wives are terrifying, yes?” You say quickly, motioning to Pepper who was chopping up some food for her daughter, who held up the knife as a response to your statement.

“And this is why I will never get married.” Natasha says, disposing of her plates to the sink before motioning to you.

“I can change that. Do you want a dog too?” Sam asks, grinning

“Get ready to get your ass kicked, Wilson.” You grinned seeing Nat's glare

“Language.” Tony says, motioning to his kid while winking at Steve who rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. The fitted shirt threatening to rip. You always wondered why Steve liked to wear clothes that's one size smaller that what he should be wearing. Maybe it was because of Bucky, or Nat, or both. You never knew with that man.

“It's been 8 years. Why is that still a thing?” Steve groan, making you all laugh.

Your laugh slowly faded, staring at your family, your weird but still very much your family, laughing and having fun without a care in the world, it's memories like these that you want to remember.

You don't want to remember the sacrifices you had to make to get this very moment, the actions you made were selfish yet necessary, for your universe at least. You had the power and the chance to change everything 5 years ago, and you took that chance without hesitation, even if it meant breaking the fabric of the universe itself.

You just hoped that the Avengers from the other universes wouldn't hate you so much for adding to their pain. After all, you did avert what should have happened in your universe, into another universe where the people of earth and it's mightiest heroes, suffered twice. Their pain increasing tenth fold as you merged two problems into one.

The consequence that you have to endure for that however, was white-hot pain. You will have to endure all the universe's pain, nightmares and visions of the battle that should have happened will continue to plague you, visions of Wanda in pain, visions of Tony Stark dying, visions of his funeral, visions of Natasha's death will play in your head over and over again. Your own personal hell.

But it's worth it right? …right? You'd do anything to make your family happy... right? You'd do anything to make her happy. It's worth it. It was definitely worth it... right?

[witch-and-a-half]

arranged

okay so this was originally going to be a blurb for a request, but i got carried away and decided to post as a full fic. i’m a bit surprised because i was really nervous to write draco and angst, but i got into it and i think i’m pretty happy with the finished product

notes: draco x pureblood!reader, draco x oc, angst, fake dating, arranged marriage

words: 3.7k

- - -

“Hello love, did you hear?” Draco called to you as you walked across the courtyard. You kept your head down, knowing he’d gotten a letter from his parents, and it was likely similar to the one you received from your mother at breakfast. Your pace quickened so Draco wouldn’t be in earshot of the rest of your classmates when he reached you.

“You’re going to ignore me?” He sneered from only a few feet behind you. In a moment, he had fallen into step beside you, but his voice was still loud when he repeated, “You’re going to ignore your future husband?”

The murmurs of nearby classmates were blocked out by the feeling of blood rushing to your face as you stopped and made deadly eye contact with Draco. Before you could hurl an insult at him, he turned to you with his signature smirk and coldly said, “So you have heard. Mother and Father have picked you out for me.” His upper lip curled as he spoke.

As much as you wanted to smack that smirk off his face, you refrained and instead took a slow step closer to him. Your voice was a low whisper, so only he could hear, “If you think I can’t make your life a living hell, think again. I don’t want this, and, seeing the way you look at that Muggle-born girl in Charms, I’d guess you don’t want this either. We might as well not make this any more excruciating than it already is.”

You took note of the angry breaths puffing his chest out and fanning hot breath across your cheeks. Before he could respond though, you spun on your heel and marched off. Once you were a few yards away, you called over your shoulder, “Such a shame. I’d hoped my parents would have better taste.” His jaw was clenched with rage and you didn’t even try to stifle a sickly sweet laugh.

~ ~ ~

A few months had passed and, surprisingly, Draco had been relatively kind during the few times you’d interacted since the courtyard fiasco. You’d mostly avoided each other, which was why you were so surprised when he pulled you into an empty classroom after dinner one evening. As much as you hated to admit it, the feeling of his long fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist gave you butterflies.

But once you were inside, you jerked your arm and he released his grip. “What on-” you hissed.

“I need a favor.” Draco’s face was softer than you’d ever seen it. It was so uncharacteristic that it almost made you queasy. Most of you wanted to say something spiteful, but you were too curious as to what could possibly make his eyes fill with desperation. You cocked an eyebrow, keeping a stern look in your eyes.

“You know Arielle?” He murmured, “Well we’ve been seeing each other in secret and I’m worried my parents are catching on so… I need you to pretend we’re dating.”

You pursed your lips as he continued, “We both know this was going to happen eventually so-”

But you cut him off, “What’s in it for me?”

That’s when Draco’s face returned to normal: narrowed eyes, an icy sneer, and a tight jaw. His eyes flicked down briefly before locking on yours. His voice was cold and dry as ever, “I’ll owe you.”

“You’ll owe me?” You spat, emphasizing the word “owe.”

Draco folded his arms across his chest, “Yeah. I’ll owe you.”

You paused for a moment. Maybe having something to hold over Draco’s head wouldn’t be so bad, especially since you were doomed to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Fine,” You said firmly, “but you owe me.”

~ ~ ~

In all honesty, pretending to be Draco’s girlfriend was easier than you had anticipated. Nobody at school expected Draco to be a super affectionate or attentive boyfriend, so you mostly had to hold his hand between classes and sit on his lap occasionally in the Common Room. And every once in awhile, you’d have to spend an evening hiding out in the Astronomy Tower so Draco could see Arielle without people wondering why he’d left you alone on a Friday or Saturday evening, but you didn’t mind spending those nights alone under the stars. The only really difficult part was when he called you pet names; something about hearing the words “darling” and “my love” roll off his tongue made your heart skip. You refused to acknowledge that reaction though.

Sometimes, late at night, you would remember that you may have to spend the rest of your life pretending to love Draco Malfoy, and that made your stomach churn.

It wasn’t until one Friday after classes when you started to really worry about your feelings for Draco. You were in the library looking for a book to use for a paper when someone cleared their throat beside you. Turning, you were face to face with Henry Gilbert—a tall, dark-haired, handsome boy in the year above you. “Hi, Henry… can I help you?” Your eyebrows drew together slightly in confusion as you spoke.

Smiling softly, he responded “Whatcha reading?” Henry turned the book in your hands so he could see the title, and you felt his warm fingers ghost over your hand as he did so. You felt your face flush a bit and you looked from the book to him. You were so flustered that you didn’t notice Draco at the end of the stacks watching the interaction with a hard expression.

“Um, it’s just for a paper…” The look in Henry’s eyes was making your heart pound. Again, he moved his hand to the book resting on your forearm. He placed his hand atop the hand that was wrapped around the book.

“Hey, I was wondering-” He started, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach as you realized what he was about to ask.

But before he could finish, you saw his wide eyes catch on something behind you. You were about to look over your shoulder to see what had caught his attention when you felt a hand grasp your upper arm and pull you back. Suddenly, Draco was between Henry and yourself with his arm lifted slightly in front of you in an almost protective manner.

Appalled, you hissed, “Draco,” But you froze when he shot you the iciest look you’d ever seen.

“Would your girlfriend be pleased to find out you’ve been in the library flirting with other boy’s girlfriends?” Draco’s tone was stinging.

Henry’s eyes narrowed at Draco before softening and looking back at you. His lips curved into a mischievous grin as he spoke, “Oh, love, wouldn’t you like to have a bit of fun before you have to spend the rest of your life with this git?”

“I-” You began, but Draco’s arm—the one that had been protectively hovering a few inches in front of you—moved so his forearm was solidly on your lower ribcage.

“Don’t you dare speak to her,” His voice was low and deep, nearly a growl, and you realized his other hand was holding his wand by his side.

Henry raised his arms in defeat and raised his brows at you before leaving the library without another word. Draco didn’t make eye contact with you as he pushed passed you to go back to the table he was working at before. As you registered what had just happened, your hand shot out to grab Draco’s arm and stop him. “Hey,” You sputtered, but Draco just grunted and shook off your hand.

As you left the library, your head was swimming. Why had Draco been so protective? Was it because you were his fake girlfriend? Or did it have to do with your betrothal? Or was there another reason for his reaction? Your heart faltered as you considered that last idea.

But you decidedly ignored any potential feelings for Draco; there was no reason to indulge the idea of anything serious happening between the two of you. Your parents had made sure of that when they’d arranged your marriage with the Malfoys.

Things continued like normal after that day: hand-holding and the occasional peck on the cheek. You didn’t think about those worries again until Valentine’s Day. Draco made little effort to celebrate the holiday, which would have made you nervous if you cared about the believability of your relationship. It wasn’t until that evening, as you sat beside him in the Common Room reading a book, that he presented you with a Valentine’s Day gift. “You don’t have to open it now, but I figured I ought to get you something.” His voice was a murmur, and he sounded so insincere that it hurt your feelings a bit, even coming from a fake boyfriend. You nodded silently, toying with the ribbon on the box he’d given you. He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before turning back to the conversation he was having with his friends.

Later that night, alone in your dorm, you unwrapped the box. It contained a small box and a pink envelope. Your name was scrawled neatly on the envelope—too neatly to be written by Draco. Curiously, you pulled out the piece of parchment to find a handwritten letter.

Dear [y/n],

I know we haven’t really spoken before, but I wanted to thank you for what you’re doing for Draco and I. I’m sure he hasn’t expressed how much it means to him—and for me as well—but we are both truly grateful. He’s told me he appreciates your help in this, and I feel like I should pass that sentiment along.

With your help, I’ve found the love of my life. He is so sweet to me and we’ve been able to have the most splendid past few months because of all you’ve done to help us. I cannot begin to imagine the sacrifices you’ve made to help us achieve that, but I am so appreciative of it. If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. I honestly owe you so much. I’m not sure what the future holds for the three of us, but I will always consider you a friend and you can always rely on me.

My gift to him was a bottle of my perfume and a ring with our names inscribed on the inside. You should take credit for both of these if it comes up. Enclosed in this package is a token of our gratitude (I picked them out). You should probably tell people Draco got them for you, but I want to make sure you know that it’s also a girl-to-girl “thank you” gift. 

Yours,

Arielle

You swallowed thickly as you read the letter over again. She had drawn a delicate heart next to her name at the bottom of the letter and your hand traced over it. This was the first time you’d really had to think about Arielle and Draco’s relationship. The way she described him was unlike anything you’d ever heard anyone say about Draco before, and you wondered how different he must be around her.

It made your stomach ache to think about. You knew in your heart that you secretly hoped to one day see the beautiful version of Draco that Arielle saw every day. You gingerly opened the box that had accompanied the letter. There were two gorgeous dangly earrings inside, and you could picture Arielle and Draco in a shop together buying them. You could see her pointing at them in a glass case, and Draco paying for them solemnly as Arielle beamed beside him. And you wondered, painfully, what he had bought her for Valentine’s Day. The growing pit in your stomach twisted when you saw the messy scrawl on the other side of the parchment.

Thank you.

- D.M.

~ ~ ~

You and Draco had married soon after the war. Your parents had subtly mentioned that they would understand if you chose not to marry Draco; they were worried mostly about your family’s reputation if they became entwined with the Malfoys, who had fallen from grace on both sides of the war. But you considered three things: the threat of Narcissa and Lucius’s wrath if you backed out of the engagement, the fear that you couldn’t find love with any of your old classmates because you had associated yourself with the Malfoys for too long, and the persistent, foolish hope that maybe Draco would someday love you properly.

Draco worked at the Ministry and you spent your days listless in the home you shared. Draco had insisted on buying a grand estate, and it was larger than the two of you ever really needed. At first, you had considered working, but, with the Malfoy’s wealth, you didn’t need to. Instead, you focused on taking care of the home, picking up hobbies, and finding miscellaneous activities to fill your time. Life was dull, but you felt lucky to be safe and cared for after the chaos of the war.

Most evenings, you’d make dinner and eat with Draco at the kitchen island or in the large dining room. Your relationship was friendlier now. The war had hurt Draco worse than you, so you had become a sort of caretaking companion. He still saw Arielle on occasion too. At first, they had tried to keep up their relationship, but, when she realized he still planned to marry you, things had waned. You didn’t ask Draco about her very much, and he rarely mentioned her. All you knew was that he would visit with her at least a few times a month, and she still sent you gifts or cards on holidays.

Draco and you slept in separate rooms. He was close—just across the hall—but neither of you felt compelled to share a bedroom. Some evenings, he would slip into bed beside you in the middle of the night and be gone before you woke in the morning. You knew it was because of nightmares, but you never discussed it. Those nights were becoming less frequent as time passed though. Admittedly, you liked sharing a bed with him, but you could never tell him that. Your persistent feelings for him gnawed at your heart more frequently than you’d have liked, and some things would especially make your heart ache—like sharing a bed or when he’d spend the night at Arielle’s and you’d be alone in the big empty house.

One evening, when Draco was meant to be at Arielle’s, he came home abruptly. You were redecorating the sitting room—one of your favorite boredom busters—when you heard the door slam and his quick footsteps up the stairs, followed by a rustling sound. As you finished hanging a new painting, you heard something upstairs clatter. You went to the base of the stairs and were about to call up to Draco when you realized that the rustling sound was actually the sound of soft sobs.

You tiptoed up the dark staircase to Draco’s room and rapped gently on the door before coming in slowly. He was crouched on the foot of his bed, facing away from you, with his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking, but the sobs were quieter now that you were in the room. A few feet in front of him was a shattered perfume bottle and a ring that had been thrown on top of it. You nervously sat down beside him, just close enough that your shoulders touched. Now that you were closer, the smell of the perfume was overwhelming.

When Draco raised his head from his hands, his eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained with tears, but his expression was solemn. “She doesn’t want to see me anymore.” His voice was strained, “I think she’s found someone else.”

You’d seen this coming. Arielle loved Draco, but he was married to you, and she deserved to find an available man. Draco used to come home from their visits in high spirits, but that wasn’t the case with their past few visits.

Unable to find comforting words, you rubbed your hand up and down his back instead. A few moments passed and Draco’s breaths became steadier before you finally spoke, “Can I clean this up?”

He gulped and nodded, “Please get rid of it.” Using your wand, you dumped the shards of glass in the trash can by the door and evaporated the liquid. You picked up the ring, catching a glimpse of Arielle’s name on the inside, and moved to put it in the trash with the glass. “Wait,” Draco choked, “Can I see it?”

You placed the ring in the palm of his hand and a tear slipped from his eye as he pointed his wand at it. Arielle’s name slowly faded, so only Draco’s remained. He held the ring between his thumb and index finger, inspecting it for a moment before handing it to you.

“You’re all I have now.” He said softly.

Your jaw clenched at his words. The war and marriage had effectively destroyed your social life, and you’d never been close with your family, so Draco had been all you had for the past year or so. His words only reminded you of that.

Draco stood suddenly and grabbed something from inside his dresser. He turned back to you and handed you the ring, which was now on a thin silver chain. “Will you wear this? I promise you I’ll be around more and we can be like a proper husband and wife… like we should’ve been all along.” His voice was pained and pleading, so you obliged.

You rose to your feet and took his hand, “Let’s get you in bed. It’s late.”

Draco nodded as you handed him one of his pajama sets. While he changed, you went downstairs to make him a cup of chamomile tea. You hesitated at the top of the stairs before going into your room to grab your favorite lavender candle, praying it would help replace the lingering smell of Arielle’s perfume. There was a small envelope on your pillow and your name was written on it in a familiar scrawl. You gingerly unfolded the tear-stained parchment.

[y/n],

I wanted to thank you one last time. As always, you can count on me if you ever need anything.

Please take care of him.

Much love,

Arielle

You nodded to yourself before tucking the letter into your nightstand drawer and heading back to Draco’s room, mug and candle in hand.

When you entered his room, Draco was sitting at the end of his bed, staring at nothing. You sat beside him and handed him the mug, “Here, love.” His eyes remained fixed on the empty space ahead of him, but he smiled grimly as he sipped the tea. You lit the candle and sat it on his dresser where the perfume bottle had been. Then you knelt on the floor in front of him so his eyes finally met yours. You put a hand on his knee as you spoke, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The emptiness in his eyes made your heartache worse than ever before. He blinked slowly before whispering, “Stay with me tonight?”

You took his hand and drew back the sheets on his bed. He crawled in stiffly and you laid beside him. Just like when he had nightmares, you turned your back to him so you were spooning with his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. He sniffled sharply in your ear, and your gut shattered.

You loved him. You had never realized how much or when it had gotten this bad, but it was suddenly unmistakeable. That’s why you’d married him and that’s why you made him dinner every night and that’s why you were so pained by his heartbreak this evening. You cared about him so deeply and genuinely that it made you physically ill. And, as you felt the cold metal ring on your chest, you realized that Draco would never love you as you loved him. His heart would always belong to Arielle in some way or another. You’d seen the gifts they got each other and knew the dates they went on and the way he looked after he’d spent time with her. Arielle was truly meant for Draco, and you would never be that for him because your relationship was predestined by your parents. The realization made your chest feel empty. You’d been hollowed out by the pain of loving a man who would always be near but never truly yours.

Tears were beginning to pool in your eyes when you felt Draco’s chest heave suddenly. Any thought of crying was abandoned as you turned your attention back to the boy beside you. Rotating in his arms, you saw that he wasn’t crying, but dryly sobbing. His face was wracked with worry as you brushed it softly with your fingertips.

“I have to tell you something,” he choked, “I can’t keep it from you much longer,”

You nodded, desperately trying to predict what he was going to say.

His voice was shaky now, “Turn back around, please.”

Turning back so you faced away from him stung a bit, but your heart was beating too fast to deal with that hurt.

Draco took a few deep breaths into the crook of your neck before he spoke. “I got a letter from my parents this morning…”

Your breath hitched as you realized what he was going to say, but you waited silently for him to finish.

“They- They asked about…” His voice cracked and his arm on your waist tightened, “They asked about an heir.”

The only response you could muster was a slow nod. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you came to terms with this next step of your sham of a relationship. Tears began to flow gently from your eyes at the thought. What else were you supposed to do? You would have to start a family with the man you love, all while knowing he didn’t love you the same way. The voices in your head didn’t stop until you realized Draco had fallen asleep. The feeling of his slow breaths on your skin and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest slowly lulled your aching heart to sleep.

[ A/N: okay so i get a lot of asks and comments about a part 2 for this fic and im honestly so touched!! i posted my thoughts about a part 2 a while back and i’ll link it here <3 ]  - oct 4, 2020

[redux-iterum]

Don’t worry, I haven’t done my tomfoolery in anon before. Regarding the new posts, what is your preference with the amount of ‘what ifs’, questions concerning the world building/characters, or tomfoolery? I feel that with every new chapter there’s always going to be more questions, excitement, and curiosity, but I completely understand if you don’t want your inbox to constantly be flooded. If we have any of these questions, would you like them to be limited to a few times a week? Does the same apply with likes ?

I very much appreciate your consideration, my man! Any amount of likes is completely fine, and as long as you're not sending, like, 20 asks a day, you should be good to go. Intrigue and excitement for the world and story here is really no issue at all.

What I referenced by reblogging that post was the multiple people who, like the post says, are way too open way too fast, and instantly forced my interaction on a level one should not be at with a complete stranger. Things like unloading deep trauma one should be seeking professional help for, or sharing tightly-rooted political beliefs that are as extreme as they are unwelcome in daily conversation. That is all entirely inappropriate and those of you that did that: I am not your therapist and I am not qualified to fix your disorders or listen with wisdom to your problems, nor do I care to. Find a close friend or professional psychiatric help. That's all I have to say about that.

I've had people push a lot on me about their OCs as well, but that doesn't bother me as much because I understand that fervent excitement to share something you hold dear to your heart and how you want others to feel that love too. The issue is that I have not heard of this OC once and I don't have any reason to care about them beyond a mild appreciation that you're having fun. I will offer the advice that, should you desire such attention, start making stuff for them. I've said in the past that no one applauds vapor - and rude as this is to say, your OC is little more than a drop of water in the ocean for pretty much everyone who doesn't know you, including myself. You need to create things - a comic, an ask blog, art, writing, reference sheets, anything - to give people a foothold to grab on to so they can begin to care. People will seek answers about those OCs in time, and you won't have to reach out for attention.

That got long and a little too real and I apologize. I just felt those things ought to be said so I can link back to this in the future. Bottom line is that as long as you're not making a total stranger hear about your problems or overloading their askbox with details about your OC you just made, you should be fine.