#I'm very very pleased to see this even if it is only part of it!

[zombflesh]

how do you think ak!jay likes to be hugged (i miss him)

I'm about to yap a lot for this one so strap in. I personally think that Jason wouldn't exactly be used to hugs even before he was tortured. Physical attention wasn't something he was given that much as a child, and he's way used to touch being a negative instead of a positive. His short time with Bruce probably helped him accept that touch wasn't a negative thing until the Joker ruined it all. After Arkham Knight, Jason would not be able to properly stomach any kind of physical contact. He's been tortured, beaten, and is at his lowest point. Jason doesn't even feel human at this point because after everything he can only see himself as a shell of who he once was. The littlest things are a trigger to him. Something as simple as a pat on the shoulder makes him want to claw at his own skin. Jason's S/O would need to be very patient at first. Physical affection is a concept that has been tainted for him. He's trying hard to get used to your gentle touches because he wants to be with you. Jason doesn't want you to be with someone that can barely take care of themselves. Jason wants you to be with a person instead of the ghost that he perceives himself as. Jason heals and slowly but surely, he leans into your hugs. Now to actually answer the question sorry for going on that long ass tangent

At first, Jason's hugs would feel like hugging a statue. Very stiff and he barely moves a muscle. That stiffness slowly melts away the more he heals. And when this man hugs believe me, he HUGS. Jason is starved of affection, and he feels safe in your around. When he hugs you it's always firm but gentle. Jason wants to make you feel safe in his arms like how your presence makes him feel safe. Snuggling with him would feel like hugging a giant teddy bear. Jason would hold you to his chest while his fingers would either rub your back or play with your hair. Of course, there are always those hugs where he picks you up and spins you around. Jason's hugs would be so tight and so warm.

Jason is a forehead kisser and anyone who says otherwise is wrong. After every hug he's give you a big smooch on the forehead. Hear me out on this next part. Little spoon Jason. HEAR ME OUT PLEASE!! Yeah, he prefers to be big spoon. But Jason would melt whenever you hold him. Just imagine the realization that Jason is being held hitting him and he just leans into the hug. He would bury his face into your shoulder and let out the most content sigh. Love, security, and warmth are all things he can find in your arms. Jason would love it if you held him before he fell asleep. His face would be pressed against your chest as he listens to your heartbeat. The rhythm of your heartbeat would help him fall asleep because it's just comforting to know that your still there. He relaxes as soon as you brush your fingers through his hair. Or even hearing you talk is enough to make him unwind.

There's something so sweet about Jason letting himself be held idk what it is

[scoonsalicious]

6.1 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, nudity, Bucky's lies come back to bite his ass.

Please note: I'll be taking a break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th to focus on writing, and will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.

Word Count: 1.1k

Previously On...: Porn. The last chapter was porn.

A/N: Sorry, besties; not sure what happened. I set this up to post at 445 per usual, and when I came back on, I saw it still hadn't gone up, so I'm doing it manually. I apologize for this screw up!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Bucky woke the next morning in a tangle of sheets and Major. He had to pee, but he didn’t want to get up. God, he never wanted to get up. If he could stay wrapped up with her like this, for the rest of his life, he thought, he would die happy. The very idea struck him like a brick– he’d given a lot of thought to his own death over the years, but never, not once, did he ever consider the possibility that he might actually die happy until this very moment. 

If she was in his life when he went, he realized, he very well could.

Major shifted in her sleep and snuggled further into Bucky’s chest with a contented sigh, and he felt his heart swell. If he wasn’t careful, at the rate his feelings were going, he was at risk of proposing to her before lunch. 

After about fifteen more minutes of blissfully watching Major sleep in his arms, Bucky couldn’t hold off his bladder any longer. Gently extricating himself from Major’s embrace so as not to disturb her, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before heading to the bathroom. 

After he’d finished and washed his hands, he made his way back toward Major’s bed. As he passed by the string of clothes he’d discarded the night before, he heard a buzzing coming from his pants. He reached down and pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the caller ID.

Lily. Again.

Bucky sighed and took himself back to the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him as he accepted the call.

“Hey, Lil, what’s up?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of Major’s whirlpool tub.

“Hey, Jamie,” she said, and Bucky could immediately tell something was wrong. She sounded… off, distressed. “Listen,” she continued, “I know you and Sam probably had a late night last night, and I hate bothering you…”

“What’s wrong, Lil?” Bucky asked, growing concerned now. 

“Well, I drove out to Langston Park to run the trails,” Lily began, “and I don’t know if I ran over a nail or had a slow leak, or what, but when I got back to the car, my tire was flat. I was kind of hoping you could meet me up here and help me change it?”

Bucky ran a hand over his stubble. “Shit,” he said. “You know I would in a heartbeat, Lil, but–”

“No, yeah,” Lily interrupted him. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m sure someone will drive by and I can flag them down for help–”

“Lily Anne McIntyre, you are not going to wave down a stranger and just hope that they’re not a murderer or a rapist,” Bucky said into the phone, a little louder than he intended. “Listen, I’m on my way, but I’m in the city, so it’s going to take me a little while, okay? Just… just stay in your car with the doors locked until I get there.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much, Jamie!” Lily’s voice was full of relief. “You’re my hero! I owe you, big time!”

Bucky cracked a smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Give me about forty-five minutes to get to you, okay? And remember, lock. your. doors.” 

“I promise,” Lily agreed before ending the call. 

Bucky stood up from the edge of the tub and went back into the bedroom and quietly put his clothes back on. Sitting down at the edge of Major’s side of the bed, he leaned down and began pressing kisses to her shoulder and collarbone until she stirred and started to stretch. 

With a lazy moan that sent the blood straight to Bucky’s dick, Major sleepily blinked her eyes open. “Why are you wearing so many clothes?” she asked him, her voice seductively husky with sleep. “Come back to bed.”

Bucky wanted to. Oh god, he really, really wanted to. “I’m so sorry, sugar,” he told her, leaning down to give her a proper kiss. 

“Bucky,” she laughed, pulling back from him, “I just woke up; I’m sure I have horrible morning breath.”

“Like I would ever care.” He cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers, gently running his tongue along her lips so she opened her mouth to him. 

After a long moment, they broke apart, and Bucky rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to leave you,” he said softly. “But I’ve got to go.”

Major nuzzled her cheek against his. “So, don’t,” she murmured. “Stay.”

Bucky sighed. “I can’t. Lily’s got a flat tire; she’s waiting on me to come help her change it.” 

Major let out a puff of air through her lips. “Well, give me five minutes to get dressed and I can come with you,” she offered hopefully. 

“I’d love that, doll,” Bucky said, frowning, “but Lily’s still pissed off about the bar and…” he ran a hand behind his neck, suddenly realizing how stupid this was going to sound, “I haven’t told her I’ve been seeing you.”

The change that came over Major was nearly imperceptible, but Bucky clocked it, all the same. Her eyes narrowed, her shoulders tensed and she pulled back from him by a hair.

“So,” Major began slowly, “where did she think you were last night when she called you, then? You said you’d already told her what you were up to. If she didn’t know you were with me, what did she think you were doing?”

“I told her I was having a guys’ night out in the city with Sam,” Bucky admitted, hating himself now for even deeming the lie necessary in the first place.

“I see.” The words were clipped, Major’s voice void of any emotion, and Bucky knew he’d fucked up. Immensely. “Well, you better get going, then, if Lily’s waiting on you.”

“Major.” Bucky put a hand on her arm, but she got up out of the bed, dragging the topsheet with her to wrap around herself and keep her body covered from him, as if now, suddenly, after everything they’d already done together, she no longer wanted him to see her naked. “Can we just–”

“You should go, Bucky,” she said again, not meeting his eye, and Bucky felt like absolute shit. 

“Can I call you later?” he asked, and he heard the note of desperation in his own voice, but Major just shrugged a shoulder. He tried to lean in to her to give her a kiss goodbye, but she stood there, still as a statue, so he simply pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed before showing himself to the door.

He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up, and he’d blown it. She’d probably never want to see him again, and honestly, could he blame her? He’d lied about being with her, like she was some kind of dirty secret. Sam had been right, though Bucky would never admit it to him. Why was he letting Lily’s opinion dictate how he lived his life?

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[lokideservesahug]

Obsessed In Love II

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairing: Yandere! Checo Pérez x gn!reader

Warnings: Dark themes, yandere, hints to drugging, kidnapping, suggestive, badly translated Spanish (sorry)

Notes: You asked for a part 2 so I had to deliver... And just imagine both Checo and the reader live in the smse country as the race because that's one if the only ways that the start will make sense. Also I'm working on a Mark Webber request so hopefully that will be out at some point!

Summary: What happens when you wake up in a random bed with no recollection of the day before. You just accept it because nothing weird could have happened...right?

Part 1

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

You wake up with a huge headache and in an unfamiliar place. Well not wholly unfamiliar, the top of the bedpost looked slightly familiar. You give it some thought and realise that Checo has a similar bed if not the same one. Not that you keep track of Checo's bed or anything... You had seen Checo's bedroom in the occasional Red Bull mandated video call here and there but that was about it. Despite your close relationship on track, that was it. A truly professional work relationship that unfortunately didn't extend to many outside of work hours or walls (as much as Checo had tried to invite the whole team out just to see you there). You feel very grogy waking up and can't remember much of the end of the previous day. After you finished filming the video, your memory becomes cloudy.

You groan and stop yourself from trying to remember too much of yesterday else it will give you a headache. You go to get out of bed, still not fully processing the fact that you werent in your own room only to find you were caged in by something heavy lying around your waist. Your eyes widen. Oh no... you weren't alone. You curse at your foolishness of not realising that if course you'd be with someone else if you were in a foreign room. You lift the person's arm up (damn they had nice muscles) and turn on yoir side to see if you recognised the person beside you. The last thing you'd have ever expected dthough was to see your boss. Sergio Pérez. "Oh sh-" He groans slightly at your disturbance of the peace and sleeping adjusts himself so he's lying with one leg draped over you, face buried in the side of your chest.

At his sudden change in scenery, he begins to wake up. You wait with baited breath to see his reaction and as his sleep drowsed eyes meet yours, you swear you see a small smile flash across his lips before he sports a similar shocked face to your current one. He rubs his eyes and sits up and as he repositions, you note that his leg is still touching yours. He smirks and begins to speak in an odd attractive, rapsy morning voice (gosh you shouldn't be having these thoughts) "Not that I don't want you in my bed but what are you doing here querida?" You shake your head and shrug.

"I-I don't know..." You try and cast your mind back to last night when your predicament finally settles. You. Your boss. Alone. In his bed. You gasp. "You don't think we...?" His eyebrows raise at your suggestion. You avoid his eyes and feel the flitter of your heartbeat at the thought. You ahd always had a thing for him (not that you'd even admit it to yourself). He shakes his head. "I hope not." You feel yourself frown and physically deflate at his words. You can't help it. "Wait no, querida I don't mean it like that..." You turn and face him and raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "It's just- well. Never mind." He looks down almost embarrassed and you scoot closer to him. "Go ahead. I won't judge." He meets your eyes again and smiles softly. "Please forgive me if I'm being to forward but I just feel like a moment like that would be magical and I just wouldn't want to forget that."

You're left speechless at his words and feel your cheeks warm. You identity your mouth to say something but he cuts across you. "You don't need to say anything I just wanted to get that off my chest." You nod and smile at him. "Now what kind of a host would I be if I didn't make breakfast for you?" You laugh softly at his words and tilt your head in amusement. "His smile widens at your clear enjoyment if his words and so he continues. "You stay here Querida and I'll go and make some breakfast for us." He leaves the room, closing the door with a gentle click. You stretch out and enjoy the feeling if his soft bedding (that smells exactly like his cologne that you've notices often in your time working for him) whilst you look around at his room, taking in all of the new sights.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Checo made a wonderful breakfast and after he beconed you to the dining room, you lost track of time just talking. So much so that when you look at the time, you realise that you need to arrive at red bull hospitality in less than an hour. "Shit." You curse your luck as you look down at your clothes still from yesterday. Checo raises his eyebrows at your profanity and you explain to him. "I need to go and get changed for FP1 and I think my house is too far away!" You scramble out of the chair and through the doorframe you went through as you came downstairs.

You don't when clock Checo's distant calls until hes right behind you as you bend down to put your shoes on. "Cariño, there's no use. You won't make it on time." You hang your head in shame and finally accept what you refused to moments ago. "However, I do have some clothes lying around that I'm sure would fit you and you could wear to work!" You meet his eyes and cast him a grateful look.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Checo end up giving you an entire set of new clothes after you shower and wash your body (as per his instructions). In your still stresses haze, you don't question why he has clothes lying around his house that really do fit you well. You're impressed that he gives you an entire outfit. Well bar a shirt but he says that you'd be fine just to wear one of his red bull shirts. You put on the Red Bull shirt (unsurprisingly his own metch with a little SP11 over the right breast) and you try and style the slightly baggy shirt. When you exit his bedroom where he let you change, you fail to notice the hungry pair of eyes or the ravenous,possessive gaze that comes with them.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Checo was kind enough to drive you and when you eventually reach the doors of Red Bull hospitality, you're on time to the minute. You ignore the suspicious glances that everyone is casting the both of you for arriving together and you head to your office to get the schedule for today.

You walk back out to the foyer and are greeted by Max. You smile and wave at him, exchanging a few pleasantries as your eyes scan the room and doorways for Checo. You find him in the adjacent room and as Max's on assistant comes to tech him, you walk over to Checo. He's hunched over his phone with a prominent scowl on his face. "Are you ready to go to your driver's room?" You ask the Mawxican. He perks up at your words and nods as he walks off to get changed.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

FP1 goes by eith next to no issues. There is a good variety of cars performing well at the track and unsurprisingly, both the red bulls have good pace. You sit down. You've been feeling a bit dizzy all throughout the day and can't help but have a small inkling in the back of your mind that this isn't the first time this has happened today. By the time both Free Practise sessions and all team meetings have ended, you go to see Checo in his driver's room. You knock gently on the door and wait.

The door opens with a soft click. "Hello querida. Come in." He gestures you inside and you take a seat at one end of the sofa. You continue to talk. You find yourself caught up in a large rant with Checo not responding to anything. You turn to look at him only to notice his eyes firmly set on you. "What? Is something wrong?" He just shakes his head and you watch as his eyes give you a quick glance up and down. Suddenly, you become hyperaware of your close proximity and before you can give it any more thoughts, your lips meet with his.

You whine softly at the contact and thread you hand into his hair. He puts a hand gently on your waist as you pull apart for air. You look into us eyes and can't help but blush at what just happened despite where you found yourself this morning. He places his hand gently under your jaw and tilts your head back up. You meet his dilated pupils and he jumps straight back in to a much more passionate kiss this time filled with more tongue. The two if you fight for dominance with your mouths but in the end it is him that wins and the two of you continue to kiss until you feel a slight thrombin in your head. You pull back and smile at the man. "Sorry. I've just been having the worst headache all day." He nods sympathetically. "I get it cariño. You You rest for a bit and I'll wake you once I've finished the right up for today and we can go home. You forget about your surroundings as you lean your head tentatively against his shoulder. You see him pick up his laptop on the side table and continue to type. As you drift out of consciousness you swear you can hear a low mumble of what appears to be "Eres toda mía ahora, ¿no?" Followed by a small kiss to the forehead.

You're all mine now, aren't you?

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You stir softly later in the evening when the moon is still high in the sky and the light of the stars shiens through the small crack in the curtains. A part in the back of your mind begins to worry as you're not in your own bed once again but you're

put at ease when you hear the distant voice of Checo in the distance. You Don even try and pay attention to his conversation, clearly in Spanish, and waltz right back into the open arms of slumber waiting to be woken again hopefully with your newfound lover by your side.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Checo whispers in loud, harsh Spanish to the person on the other end of the phone.

"No, no me importan las consecuencias... Sí, lo entiendo... Pero ahora son míos, eso es lo único que importa... No, no escaparán, estoy seguro de que puedo mantenerlos aquí para siempre. .. Oh, encontraré una manera. No te preocupes."

No I don't care about the consequences... Yes I get that... But they're mine now that's all that matters... No they won't escape, I'm sure I can keep them here forever... Oh I'll find a way. Don't you worry.

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Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome.

Taglist (irdk if this is anyone's thing so sorry if it's not). @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie @checoverstappen @pasteljesse @deliciousfestsalad

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Okay how about Kidnapper!Konig who ends up crossing paths with you. A case file was dropped onto his desk one day. The manilla file consists of a couple of personal documents of yours and a glossy copy of your passport photo. Your hair brushed out of your face with wide eyes and beautiful lips pouting back at him. He knew from that moment you were more than just a mark.

In no time he is in your city, memorizing your schedule. It wasn't hard to do. You are very predictable. He doesn't even need to trail far behind as you walk through parking lots and sidewalks. He once followed you all the way back to your front door, caught up in the scent of your fading perfume. You never even looked behind you. You really shouldn't wear headphones all the time. You're far too pretty to be this oblivious to your surroundings.

You have a shitty live-in boyfriend who has gotten you into this whole mess. Konig hates watching you through your window when you get home. Seeing the loser guy lounging on your couch. Eating all your food and complaining about anything he can pick on. He watches as you pace room to room picking up after that pig. Thankfully, you were only targeted due to your connection to him. He's not sure how a sweet girl like you got involved with such a dangerous man.

After almost a week of tracking you he determines the time to act. You like to take a scenic side street when you walk home from work. The cobblestone path between two blocks of old historic buildings. The ivy and overgrown trees taking over the space creeping through the iron rod fencing line either side of the walkway. It's late in the evening, the lampposts lighting your path with a yellow tint while you walk down the cobblestone. You're heels click along the stone and once again you have those damn headphones on. Konig is thankful he able to be here instead of some creep. You step along your way so comfortable in your routine now.

You don't even notice when Konig's wide stride catches up to you. You don't see his large shadow looming over you while you mindlessly scroll through your social media feed. He can't help the smile that pulls at his lips underneath his hood when he sees you liking a silly cat video. Then he wraps his massive arms around you. Before you can make a sound he covers your mouth with a rag soaked with a certain special sedative. He shushes you gently as you scream against the dense fabric. You don't struggle for long. Nails scratching at his forearm don't cause real damage through his thick sweatshirt. You kick and thrash but he holds you tight to his chest. He feels your heart thumping against your rib cage like a scared baby bird until finally, you relax. Your head lulls to the side and falling into the crevice of his arm. He stare down at your closed lids, you look so peaceful now. The scent of your hair product penetrates the material of his mask.

There is plenty of time to adore your sleeping form, not here though. He hoists you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style back to his van. Carefully slipping you into the back but not before zip tying your hands and feet. You shouldn't be awake anytime soon but he's not one to take chances.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

I'm just writing down some things I've been thinking about lately. Please let me know if you want more of things like this or if you want me to do a part two. Any comments or tags I see make me smile <3

ﾒ𝟶

[izfrogzy]

Soft and Innocent Part III 18+ Aemond x Sister Reader(OC.)

Warnings: 18+ content, Masturbation and envisioning and lusting for OCSister.

A/N: Part III is a steamy part.....I hope I did good I'm stepping my toe in the smut aspect of writing in the fandom so be easy on me.....but please enjoy if you like....Again There may be grammar mistakes and inaccuracies with certain characters so just think of this of a AU scenario. A bit short....but still steamy and saucy if you ask me.

Part IV in the works now

Later that night….Aemond was alone in his bedchambers thinking as he was brooding by the fireplace he typically found himself staring towards….as the flames seem to put him in a trance each time he found himself before the hearth like this.

He thought back to him and his sister. How she clung to him and her tear-filled eyes. How his heart began to feel warm and full of love when he held her and promised to keep her safe. And how she looked so beautiful even when in tears. Aemond’s jaw tensed as he felt a feeling of longing and desire stirring within him. He felt ashamed of having such thoughts. It was so very wrong for a brother to feel this way for his sister....yet for some reason, he could not help himself. 

Every time he shuts his eyes, Aemond pictures his sister ... .Sweet….Soft and Innocent…Seanna…It was wrong but yet for some reason it was a guilty pleasure of his.

He saw her face in his mind's eyes. He saw her wide, big and beautiful violet eyes. He heard her voice as if it whispered to him softly. Aemond shuddered and closed his eyes tightly shut. It was wrong....but it made him feel....content. as he opened his eyes again he could almost swear that he saw her face in the flames of the fireplace. The feeling of longing stirring even more in his body.

He felt his body reacting to the thought of her as it typically did since she’s ripened and blossomed as of late into a woman.

he felt a tightening in his breeches as he recalled her sweet and innocent but somehow seductive face. The way her lips formed so perfectly as she talked and talked. The way they formed around his name as she called it out to him when she was upset. The way the fire light made it look as if her skin glowed gold. He closed his eyes as a groan left his mouth.

He began recalling his memory of the kiss he laid upon her forehead. Remembering how soft yet perfect her skin felt against his lips, and the way that she melted into the embrace. How she nuzzled up against his chest….in a way that a sister should not.

With the thoughts and images in his mind, he took one last look around his chambers before making sure the doors to his chambers were closed and almost all Candlelights were out. He moved over towards his bed and laid upon it. Closing his eyes as the image of her continued to fill his mind. He sighed as he began to move his hand down his body.

The Bedchambers were darkened mostly only alit was a few candles and the fireplace which filled the room with warmth a comfortable atmosphere mostly ... .and there laid Aemond upon his bed about to….well about to get comfortable it seems….and vulnerable too.

Aemond’s thoughts were consumed by his sister. He bit his bottom lip slightly as his hand began to move further down his body. He let out a groan as he began to push his breeches down, freeing himself from the tight constraint that had been bothering him for a while. He kept the image of her in his mind. Her wide violet eyes, her lips, skin, and most of all her loving embrace she gave as he comforted her when she was in her emotional states. Aemond gently grabbed ahold of his girth which had become very aroused.

He remembered the way she pressed herself up against him. How he could feel her heart beating rapidly against his chest ... .the way he could hear her breath and see her chest rising and falling with each breath. How her body seemed to feel….right against his. How she seemed to fit in his embrace so perfectly. Like they were two pieces to a puzzle. Aemond felt a shiver run through him as his hand started to slowly move up and down on the thickness of his girth.

He continued to recall how he could feel her breath and heartbeat against him….hearing her breathe out a whimper as she looked up at him with those big eyes…her lips were parted slightly letting out quick and shallow breaths as she….she seemed so vulnerable in that moment. So innocent and sweet. And she was. Aemond let out a loud groan as he started to move his hand slightly faster. He felt a tightness in his chest and he felt more guilty doing this.

He remembered how he leaned forward and nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck….his nose inhaled her sent….she carried a sweet scent with a hint of roses. Aemond opened his eyes as he could almost swear that he smelled her at this very moment. He could imagine how her hair would feel against his face too…so soft and smooth like the most finest velvets that existed in all the kingdoms. How he could run his hand through it.

“Lēkia.” Older Brother. A voice from within his mind the Valyrian word she’d use and call him by….her gentle sweet voice calling him out of affection and love

He let out a low groan as he heard the voice in his mind. That sweet and beautiful Valyrian voice he loved so much in his mind. He heard the word 'Lēkìa'. He felt as if she was whispering it into his ear. His grip became slightly rougher as he started to speed up. With the voice and his imagination he almost felt as if she was really there. It was almost….perfect..

“Lēkia.” ... .The voice said again sounding more like a moan like a desperate needy wanton girl for her lover to please her more from within his imagination as he continues his lustful actions this night.

He groaned as he heard the moan in her voice. He imagined her saying it just like that. The needy and wanton sound of how she moaned out the word almost like a whisper into his ear. It was all so much for Aemond. Feeling and hearing all this.

“Sister…” Aemond moaned out as he bit his bottom lip.

He imagined how she would have looked and sounded when they were alone. How she would have sounded as her face became flush with passion. How she would have sounded as she panted and gasped for air. How her fingers would have dug into his flesh as she held him, how her back would arch up as he made her feel so good.

“Please Lēkia More….” That imagined voice would say.

He groaned as the image of her came into his mind. Seeing her face full of pleasure. Her cheeks flushed bright. Her eyes closed shut as her mouth became open and she panted for air. He wanted to feel her body against his. He wanted to hold her and please her. To hear how she’d call out his name in the most intimate and passionate way. Just thinking about it made his body shiver.

He groaned louder. Feeling the sensation building in his body as his hand continued to move. He could hear the panting in his mind from the imagined voice. He could hear her voice growing more desperate as she would plead for more and more.

“Sister…Seanna.” He groaned as he began to say her name out loud.

He could feel himself nearing that edge. The feeling kept building and building. He just needed to keep moving just a little more. He could see her in his mind’s eyes and he could hear her voice moaning and pleading with him to keep going. Aemond groaned as he kept pumping his hand. The feeling was so strong now.

He began to pump faster. Her voice getting louder and louder in his mind. Her moans and needy gasps as she panted out for him to continue. He closed his eyes as it was all too much. All this pleasure and the knowledge of it being so wrong. He had never felt anything so intense like this….and it was because of his soft and innocent sister.

It was all coming to a head now as he bit back moans. His entire body tensed and relaxed as he kept moving his hand. The images and sounds consumed his mind until he couldn’t take it anymore and his body exploded and he was sent over that edge of ecstasy.

“Seanna….Seanna…Sister...Seanna.” He moaned out her name over and over again. Not caring if anyone heard him. He just needed to call out her name…His beloved Seanna.

The pleasure began to subside as he let out one last shiver. He lay there with his eyes closed….still seeing his sister in his mind, hearing her soft moans. As the after-pleasure feeling coursed through him. His breathing slowed and finally, he was calming back down again as the final wave of pleasure washed over him one last time.

he slowly opened his eyes…the image of her vanishing in his mind. And he was left alone in the silence. Only the sound of the fire crackling and the silence of the night. He slowly raised his clean hand up and held his face as he let out a weary sigh ... .the reality of his situation suddenly crashing upon him like a tidal wave.

“What have I done?”

He groaned softly as he felt the guilt and shame wash over him like a cold bucket of ice water. He slowly pushed himself up and off the bed to go and clean himself up. He felt disgusted with himself. He wanted to cry. No man should have such feelings for his own blood sisters. It was sinful. He felt unclean, wicked, like he needed to be burned by the Gods for his sins.

After he got cleaned up he pulled on a nightshirt before slipping back into bed and curling up on his side away from the fireplace. He felt guilty and ashamed and he wanted to cry. He felt conflicted and confused. How could anyone love their own blood siblings this way he thought….or at least he had never heard of it before. But then again the Targaryen��s were known for the ways of incest. He shut his eyes as he tried to push the thoughts away. But in the back of his mind they continued to creep back and take hold once more.

A/N: Stay tuned for Part 4 ;)

[devizakura]

Autistic people of the Hazbin fandom, please help me out on this one.

Do you, from your or your peers' experience, think Sir Pentious could realistically be headcanoned as such based on canon evidence?

I see a pretty large part of the fandom agree on it and I'd like to also, but given that I haven't seen anyone give a detailed explanation, I'm not sure if there's any solid evidence, or if it's mostly just "I like this character and making them autistic is like a badge of honor" (which is very valid, but not how I roll) or simply strereotyping the awkward genius trope.

It feels like he's harder to clock than, say Genshin's Alhaitham (who, besides being a standoffish genius, also deals exclusively in logic, is unsubtle to the point he can appear condescending and doesn't really exhibit much empathy, though it's clearly shown that he also cares deeply for his roommate, even if his emotionally-driven poor choices exasperate him. AND he has noise-cancelling headphones, so there's that!), but I'm not very intimately familiar with autism, and having ADHD myself, I know neurodivergences can have a lot of less discussed symptoms, some of which don't even show up on tests, you only find out about them through the community and it finally clicks for you like "oh. So it's not just a Me thing, it's a My Neurodivergence thing".

So, if you do have a reason for believing Pentious to be autistic, I'd love to hear!

UPDATE: I already got my answers! No need to send in more, but I do recommend everyone to check the reblogs, they make some great points!

[hunieday]

Re:vale - B’s-LOG October 2018 interview

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

This is an interview from 2018, which means it's been released before part 4!

Interviewer: Thank you so much for your hard work with the shooting and outfit change! Pleased to work with you for this interview.

Re:vale: Thank you very much.

Interviewer: Without further ado, you announced that your new album will be released soon. Congratulations!

Momo: Thank you very much!

Yuki: Thank you.

Momo: I'm so happy to share these super happy news with everyone! How about you, Yuki?

Yuki: Yeah. I’m happy to see Momo smile right now.

Momo: Why is it suddenly about me!? I'm happy! But what about the album!?

Yuki: Just seeing Momo's happy face makes releasing the album worth it.

Momo: Is that so!?

Yuki: How about you, Momo?

Momo: I’m gonna make this clear this time...

Yuki: Don’t change your mind now.

Momo: The album is amazing since it got Yuki praising me like that! Yay!

Yuki: That's good. A mutual benefit.

Momo: More like, there are only benefits and zero downsides! I'm super happy! I hope this happiness reaches all our fans along with the album!

Yuki: That’s right.

Interviewer: Although the title of the album hasn't been revealed yet, what kind of album should we expect?

Momo: It will include six previously released songs from "SILVER SKY" to "Kiseki" and two new unreleased songs! I'm sorry, but we can't reveal the title right now…!

Yuki: While we can't reveal the title yet, I hope you'll look forward to it as a culmination of our recent activities.

Momo: It's like our magnum opus!? Is that going too far!?

Yuki: Who knows, you’ll just have to listen to it and see for yourself.

Momo: Yeah! I hope you're excited and waiting for it!

Interviewer: What vibes do the new songs have?

Momo: I really want to tell you... But it's top secret and we've sworn to secrecy...! Argh, I want to tell you...!

Yuki: Can't we tell them a little something?

Momo: It might land us in trouble! Please contact the agency!

*Ringing*

Yuki: Hello, Okarin? I want to tell them about the new songs.

Momo: Whoa, Yuki went out of his well to call directly! Even though Okarin is right behind us!

Yuki: Fufu. He answered the phone too.

Momo: What's he saying?

Yuki: He's whispering, "No way!" Fufu...

Momo: Ahaha! It's cracking Yuki up!

Momo: Okarin said no, so we can't give more details for now unfortunately, sorry! Yuki, stop shaking and comment already~!

Yuki: Haha… Well, I just wanna say we'll deliver something that won't disappoint you.

Momo: As expected of you, Yuki, so handsome~!

Yuki: Thank you.

Momo: And so, please stay tuned to the new songs still in production!

Yuki: Yeah...

Momo: Oh, don't be so gloomy, Yuki! We said it's still in production, right!? Everyone's waiting excitedly! Ah, but I don’t wanna pressure everyone, so just wait patiently like good kids!

Yuki: Fufu, I know. Please wait patiently, everyone.

Interviewer: Yes! We're eagerly waiting for the release!

Interviewer: Can you tell us more about your previously released songs and what you want to highlight for us?

Momo: I recommend all the songs, but since it’s gonna be released in December, our Christmas song "TO MY DEAREST" might be perfect for the season! I personally recommend it because you can enjoy Yuki's sweet voice!

Yuki: You can even sing the "You" in the lyrics with the name of someone close to you.

Momo: That's right! We do that too! I recommend it as the official Re:vale way to enjoy it!

Yuki: Maybe you can use it to confess your feelings?

Momo: Isn't confessing too high of a bar to cross!?

Yuki: Let's give it a try.

Interviewer: Now!?

Yuki: I’m more dazzled by Momo than the multicolored lights covering the city~♪

Momo: "I love you" just isn't enough~♪

Momo: This works!

Yuki: Fufu. See?

Momo: I'm getting more and more excited for the album now!

Yuki: I know.

Interviewer: I wasn’t expecting to hear an impromptu acapella duet from you two! Thank you so much! I'm sure fans are even more excited now.

Interviewer: You called this the culmination of Re:vale’s journey earlier. Can you reflect on said journey so far?

Interviewer: As top artists, there must have been both joy and pain right?

Momo: We’re asked this question often, but whenever I look back I'm reminded of so many happy memories, rather than painful or regrettable ones!

Momo: Because the path we've walked as Re:vale is filled with happiness that we wouldn't have encountered if we weren’t Re:vale! How about you, Yuki?

Yuki: I feel the same as you.

Momo: Yuki~!

Yuki: Besides, being called top artists was never our goal, but if our songs have touched the hearts of many people then I'm happy.

Momo: That’s right! Sometimes I look back and remember the old days. Like the time we had the chance to be featured in a 10-seconds segment on an news program! It was so nerve-wracking!

Yuki: You mean the Ri:varu thing?

Momo: Yeah it is! The reporter mispronounced our group’s name and I was freaking out right before we went live!

Interviewer: That must have been stressful...

Momo: It was! Yuki wasn't fazed at all, but the atmosphere the live broadcast brought was really exciting~

Yuki: Fufu.

Momo: Ah, I digress, but some cute juniors are challenging us lately, so we have to work even harder as seniors!

Yuki: Momo is very good at taking care of others.

Momo: No wayyy~ Are you jealous!?

Yuki: I want you to take care of me too.

Momo: Oh, a straightforward request! What do you mean by that!?

Yuki: If our opinions differ, prioritize mine.

Momo: Hahaha! Isn't that different from taking care of you!? Besides, I always prioritize you, Yuki!

Yuki: Basically, yeah.

Interviewer: Thank you for showing us your couple comedy! Finally, please send a message to your fans.

Momo: I'm just happy to be able to sing next to Yuki, and I'll do my best to deliver the best album together with him as Re:vale!

Yuki: I want it to convey Re:vale’s history up until now and show the future possibilities ahead of us.

Yuki: I hope our music reaches many people through this album and adds a little color to their everyday lives.

The End.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 2

/ Click here to read the first part!

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, heartless Soldier Boy, reader gets hurt, mention of drugs, mention of alcohol, mention of sex, betrayal, Soldier Boy being a dick, reader is a supe, Crimson Countess is a bitch

Word Count: 2031

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

After your argument with Ben about Countess Noir and your relationship, which occurred a month ago, he hardly spoke to you at all. He never looked you in the eye, either. You were never even certain if his love existed in the first place, but it was clear that the thing between you and Ben had been extinguished forever, even though he hadn't formally ended your relationship with words.

You considered leaving Payback behind, but you found it difficult to distance yourself from Ben, which bothered and despised you about yourself. You were terrified that Ben would harm Earving, in addition to the possibility that he wouldn't mind you leaving the squad. After all, he was your sole friend, and Ben's attitude towards him was cruel and rough. He was merciless to everyone except for Countess.

You denied producing movies, TV shows, or signing days since it was too much to bear to watch Crimson and Ben together, participate in commercials, and be the star of movies in front of your eyes. You just stopped showing up with the squad day by day. Nonetheless, when the rumors surfaced that you would soon leave the group, you were forced to sit with Ben and listen to him while he talked absolute bullshit to the cameras.

When the reporter asked you a question, you were so deep in confusion that you couldn't even begin to count how many times you were asked the same question. You were deep in thought when the reporter asked the same question.

“I'm sorry,” You apologized, giving the TV reporter a feeble smile. “I couldn't catch you.” You were irritated by the number of times you were given the same questions over and over again.

You felt that all you wanted to do was shout and punch everybody who spoke to you and asked you pointless questions about Ben and Crimson, as if it were your responsibility to speak and you were their spokesperson regarding their romance or something. All they saw was a façade of lies; if only someone could see through you and realize that you were drowning in all of them.

He kept talking about the rumors, and you felt like you were about to go crazy in front of the camera and kill someone. At that point, the pressure you were under became too much for you to handle. You ignored all the sounds around you and repressed your tears as you inhaled deeply.

“Look, you know, I have things to do. I apologize if I sound impolite, but it would be preferable if you directed those questions to Crimson and Soldier Boy. After all, it's their life to tell, not mine.”

When you attempted to back away to ask another question, the unsettlingly inquisitive man grabbed your arm. God alone knew how much you wanted to break those arms at that very moment and make him eat his own flesh.

Disregarding your previous statement, he uttered, “Y/N, please inform us. Are they really getting married soon? Don't you think it would be fantastic if the strongest supe woman and strongest supe man got married? A formidable duo! Power Couple! The American public is curious about that.”

He was babbling nonsensically and was clearly trying to get you to kill him. Even though you weren't saying a damn thing, he continued talking about them, and you inhaled deeply and waited for him to finish. When he identified Countess as the strongest female supe, you gave him a little smile.

You replied coolly, “I really don't know about their next move. But allow me to ask you a question. Have you witnessed her battling me?”

You stared him in the eyes when you posed the question, as though it were the most important one ever. The way you changed your attitude startled him.

“Well, no,” he said with a confused look on his face.

“Then what makes you believe that she is the world's strongest supe woman?” You continued to smile at him and continued, “Let's just say I'm curious.”

Crimson wouldn't have a chance against you; you knew it. Ben also knew that. However, you felt unimportant and left her aside each passing day because of the way she was seen as the strongest female supe. You were aware that Ben was assisting her in completing the objectives assigned to her—unlike you, she was never able to complete any of them successfully. She just appeared to be powerful and tough because she was with Ben, not because she was really something.

You were aware that her sole concerns were money and reputation, and neither Ben nor the squad mattered to her. A woman could always see right through another woman.

You suddenly burst out laughing when he opened his mouth. Saying, “Hey, I'm just kidding; relax,” you interrupted him before he could say anything more foolish. “But I really have things to do, okay? Glad to meet you. Have a nice day.”

Fuck, you turned into the biggest liar in a single month because of Ben.

Earving saw you had at last escaped the incessant inquiries and the obnoxious reporter, so he followed you to the van. He was also taking a vacation from marketing his latest film. After taking off his mask long enough to sip his, he handed you a soda.

“Hey, what's the deal? You know, you seem anxious these days.” He ate his hamburger quickly and remarked, “I heard the conversation between you and this idiot man. Fuck him; they are so fucking irritating sometimes, it’s hard to stop myself from breaking their necks.”

You took a big sip of your soda and gave him a nod. It was nice to have small talk with Earving, considering he was the only kind and smart person left in the squad after all.

“Yeah,” you said while Ben and Countess got out of their special trailer, and you watched them with a heavy heart when Ben gave her quick and playful kisses.

It was Ben's blindness and his intense care for her that pained you, and it was his seeming blitheness and comfort around her that made you hurt. It was obvious to you that she was lying and tricking him. Witnessing Ben give her everything he didn’t bother to give you wounded you. They had a really open connection, even if there was still some space between you when you were dating.

You were concealed by him like a rat in the shadows, unlike her.

The countess never once left his side, not even for a moment. You were frantically trying to find a moment to speak with Ben once again. If you had been alone with him, you would have succeeded in discovering the cause of his sudden and dramatic change.

“Earving,” you said like a whisper. “Can you distract Countess for tonight?” You turned to him with pleading eyes.

“Why?” he asked as he ate his third hamburger.

“Can you just do it?” You huffed as you kept watching Ben from afar.

“Fine,” he said with his full mouth, spitting the tomatoes. “You fucking stress me out since you’ve started to act like Soldier Boy.”

“Don’t insult me,” you said as you chuckled, punching him softly and stealing his last hamburger.

When Earving managed to divert Countess, it was midnight, and you saw them vanish out of sight. When you saw Ben pull into his own trailer, your heart began to race, and you quickly followed him. You made a self-promise to try it one final time. After all, you were doing this for one another, and when it came to love, pride had no place.

When you entered the trailer, you locked the door immediately, leaned your back against the door, and your hands stilled on the handle as if he would escape any moment. It was dim inside.

You heard him inhaling deeply before he turned his back to you and gave you a look like you were an insect that simply refused to leave the house in the summertime. Though you were close to him physically, the distance between you and his coldness toward you was visible.

He gave you a stern look and maintained his distance from you, asking in a harsh voice, “Why the fuck are you here again? Are you going to start spreading gossip about us?”

You just answered, “No,” disregarding his sour tone and remarks. “Ben, all I want to do is talk.”

“I fucking have things to do; cut it short.”

He was leaning back against the drug- and alcohol-filled table. Though it was obvious that he was getting worse every day, he was unable to recognize his condition. 

“Why did you change so suddenly? Did I do something wrong?” Not wanting to come across as hostile and cause him to harm you verbally once more, you asked in a quiet voice. “I just need a simple explanation.”

You continued to stare at him with wet eyes, and he sighed and gave you his signature grin.

“Just admit your pussy missed me; that’s why you are so desperate, so I can give you a good and quick fuck,” he said, giving you a playful look.

Aware that he was only attempting to divert the conversation or embarrass you, you remained silent and paid no attention to the garbage that was pouring out of his mouth.

“Why, Ben?”

“Why do you act like a fucking obsessive woman? Do you need an explanation? Fine, listen to me carefully, then: I can do whatever I want. Is that good enough for you? ”

With a heavy heart, your hands on the door handle tightened. Ignoring his harsh words, your jaw clenched, and you shook your head in denial.

“Why did you act like you loved me and cared about me then?”

“What love? Fuck, I don’t even like you,” he snapped out of nowhere, irritated by the choice of your words. “We just passed some time and fucked, that’s all. Don’t be a bitch about it; you’ll get over it,” he said, giving you a wink.

He sounded so different and cold that it was hard to believe he was the same man with whom you fell in love so deeply months ago. It was like someone else possessed his body and turned him against you in a day.

“Why do you even look at me with such hatred?” you asked, ignoring how much his words pained your heart. Your voice cracked, not knowing how to handle the situation or his unbalanced behavior anymore.

“Fuck!” he screamed at you, finally losing his temper and making a move to approach while you still leaned your back against the door. “You know what? I’m going to marry her.”

You loosened your hand around the doorknob and cupped his face without hesitation, knowing he would do it just to make sure you suffered.

“I swear I’ll walk away the day you marry her, Ben,” you said with a desperate voice, hoping it would mean something to him. “I’ll leave Payback.”

“Fuck you will,” he clenched his jaw, pushing your back against the door. “I fucking swear, the day you leave will be the day of Noir‘s death. No, I’ll make sure to make him even worse.”

“What kind of monster have you turned into?” You whispered and pushed him off of you.

“Yet you told me you loved me,” he said, giving you an unsincere smile.

“I do love you, Ben, and that’s the last time you hear this from me.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

A/N: I was very surprised to see that you wanted another part for this so-called one shot story. Your comments made me very happy. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! You can also check masterlist for another multi-chapter Soldier Boy / Reader story called "Protect Me From What I Want" Thank you for reading this. <33

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series!

[vierss-herondale]

Please tell me your favourite thing(s) about Clace! I'm rereading TMI and I just am falling in love with them all over again. I'm at CoFA, they're FINALLY officially together, and their banter is ON POINT (they come by it honestly. Wessa, yk yk.) But YEAH . And also ramble about Sizzy too if you're into it, they're hitting SO hard this time and I'm in love in love in love with them.

Bestie, I don’t even know where to start 😂

The fact that during TMI most of the people saw Clary as this tiny little girl and they underestimated her but Jace realized very quickly how STRONG she really was! Like, he kicks her ass for real during training! He knows she can take it! And she’s the bravest person he knows!

And how everyone sees Jace as this strong warrior but Clary knows the fragility that lays underneath his tough exterior. Most of the people describes Jace as "hot/sexy" but Clary almost always thinks about him as ✨beautiful✨

Don’t even get me started on how Jace lacked love for so long in his life, even thinking that his heart was broken and he was incapable of falling in love… and then he met Clary, someone with such a big heart and with SO MUCH LOVE to give, and then they fell in love! ♥️

It makes me so sad that during TMI Jace had such a low faith in himself because of the way Valentine raised him. That he thought he had to be perfect or the Lightwoods would kick him out. Can you imagine that? Living with such fear of losing the love of the only family you ever know? 🥺🥺 That's why I love the fact that Clary's faith in Jace is so big and it NEVER lacks! And she makes sure he KNOWS it. That he can always count on her and her love for him.

And the fact that even when Jace was taught that love destroys you, he was never afraid of loving Clary! He said that loving her was the best feeling he ever felt. In many other books you see the male protagonist keep the girl away because they are afraid to fall in love but Jace never did that, quite the contrary actually.

I love how they complete each other, and how they helped each other to be better! Jace learned so much from Clary, and became a better version of himself, but Clary also growth so much after meeting him!

I also love how they pick on each other so much! They know how to have fun!

Listen, I know it's SUCH a big cliche and judge me all you want but I LOOOVE how Jace was mean to everyone but Clary lol In my defense I was a teenager when Wattpad was a hit and the bad boy trope was on every story 😂 So yeah, I like that he’s such a sweetheart with her and ONLY her 🫶🏻

How Jace looks at Clary as if she's his personal miracle 🥹♥️

I love that she NEVER slut shamed Jace! I have seen that some part of the fandom judge Jace for sleeping with other girls BEFORE HE MET CLARY. Like bro? It's his body and he was single, I don't see the problem and I love that Clary never judged him for that. She always knew that what they have is different from anything Jace could have had with other girls. I love a secure female character 🫶🏻

Also girl the way he's SO OBSESSED with her! He worships her so hard! I love those kind of male protagonist!!!

There's LOTS of things I love about Clace but I might never finish listing them so let's just cut it here lol

Now about Sizzy... I love that couple because they always seem like such a REAL LIFE couple to me.

Look I'm such a sucker for love at first sight couples like Clace BUT the reason why I love Simon and Izzy is because they are so real about the way their relationship developed.

In real life most people falls in love more than once in life and that's normal and it's okay. You can go through heart break and be hurt but that doesn't mean that you can't fall in love again and it be even MORE stronger than before! Simon represents that so well. He loved Clary so much for many years but then he realized they didn't work like that, and his love transformed into friendship love.

And then he fell in love with Izzy and it was a stronger feeling! This time he knew he belonged with her. That's just like real life is, you can fall in love more than once but it doesn’t mean that your previous love was less valid.

And Izzy is such an amazing character, she was the one that taught teenage me that you can wear makeup, dresses and high hills AND STILL KICK ASSES while doing so!

I think she's such a brave character because she carried the pain of her father's betrayal on her mom for so long... But she overcame it and she was brave enough to open up her heart to Simon. This comes from someone who went through something similar at a similar age and believe me, I KNOW by first hand how brave and strong Izzy had to be to let herself trust someone else with her heart. She’s so special to me.

And she opened her heart to Simon TWICE! They are a couple that went through a LOT and it makes me so happy to know that they are engaged now ♥️

[miraeluc]

i loved ur last hcs about sh so much ! if its not too much, can i ask for u to make a 2nd part (?) including shoto & izuku. please, im begging u, ill sell my organs if needed. thank u <3

dearest, from the depth of my heart, i’m offering my sincere apologies, for some stupid reason, i saw your ask a few months ago, prepared the draft and forgot entirely about it. i feel so bad pls don't sell your organs omg i hope this reaches you.

bnha boys finding out about your selfharm

prompt: /

pairing: izuku midoriya x reader, todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: mention of bad mental state! (reader); selfharming; some crying; pronouns of reader not mentioned (i think? correct me if i’m wrong pls!)

izuku midoriya

izuku, just like bakugou, was aware that you had been struggling with your mental health

but, obviously, he also was not aware of your self-harm tendencies

to be fair, it wasn't something you struggled with for a long time

only two months, to be exact

the first time you put a blade to your skin was your biggest regret - because although it wasn't pleasureable, it was extremely easy to spiral out of control, doing it nearly every day as if it was routine.

and since it was winter - you didn't worry about hiding it since you could wear long clothes without people questioning it anyway

when izuku found out, he was a mess

it went like this

the both of you were spending a cozy evening together

since everyone in your class was out or with their families, you had the entire living area to yourself

you were sat beside him, scrolling on tiktok and he was doing the same, but on his own phone

after a long while of you guys just silently enjoying eachother's company, he wanted to ask if you were hungry, but since he hadn't spoken in a while his voice cracked while doing so, and you were quick to mock him

long story short, you were now underneath him while he was tickling you.

when you tried to push his hands away, he grabbed your wrist - initially only wanting to stop you, but when you winced, he immediately stopped tickling you and, without thinking, pulled up your sleeve to see if he had hurt you

instead, he was met with the red, angry lines littered across your skin, the wounds not fresh enough to still bleed, but they were obviously still open wounds

you froze in place

he gulped, eyes moving to meet yours before he wordlessly pulled you to sit on his lap, arms wrapping around you and caging you in

"-'s ok. don't feel bad. i'm sorry i didn't realise sooner." he choked out, trying to blink away his tears

you were still frozen in place, thoughts running wild as you tried to gather your words to say something 

“izu.. please- don’t blame yourself for not realising sooner,”

he moved to look at you, teary eyes meeting yours “let’s bandage you up, ok, love?”

before you could react, he already stood - hands steady beneath your thighs, carrying you towards his dorm room, placing you down onto his bed before leaving to grab a first-aid kit from his bathroom

he wordlessly applied aloe vera gel over the more or less still fresh wounds, wrapping bandages around your arm securely before pressing a light kiss on your hand

“we can talk if you want to, but let’s get the food i was talking about earlier, hm?” 

you smiled slightly and nodded

although you still had a long road before you, you felt that a tiny burden had been lifted off your shoulders

you no longer had to fight for happiness all alone, - izuku would be by your side every step of the way, rest assured.

todoroki shouto

although shouto was indifferent, he was not stupid

he didn’t officially know of your battles with mental health, nor did he officially know about your self-harming tendencies, but he picked up the signs.

he didn’t want to confront you about immediately - since he also wasn’t a very open person, he wanted to provide you the space you needed until you were ready to open up and talk about your struggles

in the meantime, he tried his best to subtly ask fuyumi for tips on how to comfort someone when the time came

he did begin to get increasingly worried when he started hearing less and less from you - you often didn’t show up to class, and you never answered texts

todoroki, not being one to pry, tried giving you the space he assumed you needed

he didn’t take it personally - he knew you weren’t doing this on purpose, but he was flooded with worry.

and when he found out you haven’t been leaving your room at all, he decided it was time to react and check on you, even if it meant bothering you

when he stepped into your room, his eyes had to adjust to be able to see in the darkness that immediately engulfed him as the door clicked shut behind him

the air was stale - clothes scattered around the floor. your bed was messy, but you were not to be seen

tentatively he called out your name, switching on the small bedside lamp you had

„y/n?“ as he took in the sight of your room, but his eyes zeroed in on something, an object, on your bedside table

he tried again, blood running cold

„y/n? are you in the bathroom?“

he picked up said object, mindful to not cut himself with the small blade, moving to place it somewhere away from beside your bed - out of sight, in hopes that his heart would slow its racing

„yeah. i’m in here. hold on.“ he heard you groggily call out

his eyes closed in relief at the sound of your voice - having assumed the worst and he sighed shakily, dropping to sit on the edge your bed whilst he waited for you, running a hand through his hair to push it back

when you stepped out of the bathroom, his face understandably dropped

you looked so pale, so defeated

so fragile

he noticed the way you were fidgeting, an arm hidden behind your back - probably the reason he heard you shuffling around your bathroom. maybe in search of something to cover up?

he stood again, slowly approaching you. when you didn’t flinch away, he gently reached up a hand to caress your cheek

„did you bandage yourself up properly?“ he whispered, no hint of judgement in his tone - just worry

and alas, that is all it took for your eyes to brim with tears.

your lower lip shook as you quickly blinked up at him, shaking your head and releasing a heart-shattering sob as your boyfriend engulfed you into his arm - caging you into a protective hug

„it’s okay. will you let me help you?“ he whispered

a/n: hi again - i KNOW i disappeared for like 2 - 3 years but i’m about to finish my drafts and post them out, but i want to announce that requests are temporarily closed as i will no longer be writing about anime characters (unless i get an intense surge of inspiration), but there will be more explaining that in a separate post. for now, enjoy the drafts!

[somegirlontheinternet135]

NO ONE F*CKING TOUCH ME!!!

Alright, I know a lot of ppl weren't the biggest of the last Beast Yeast update, and to that I say it's understandable, they could've done a lot more with what they had in my opinion. . . But from just the first trailer alone, this looks really redeemable!!

For now, let's hope it's better than what we got last time!

You already know the jist, time for predictions!~✨ (Of course, spoilers ahead for the trailer!)

Given we now have Cacao heading off to Beast Yeast with his gang, I suspect that this'll be a common thing throughout the future Beast Yeast updates, with Hollyberry and Golden Cheese probably coming to Beast Yeast and meeting the owners of their respective soul jams

This'll probably end in them reuniting and creating some touching moments, before the final battle with Dark Enchantress (and or the Beasts)

But that doesn't mean we should leave everything in the last Beast Yeast update as after thoughts. From the 3rd Anniversary interview devs did, they confirm that Shadow Milk Cookie will be a looming threat within the Beast Yeast saga, though it is mostly unknown to us how. We do have a decent idea of what is to come

Back to the update, I think it'd be kinda cool, and very fitting, to have each of the characters represent the 5 stages of grief, with Mystic Flour representing death itself. I took a liking to this idea because firstly, death is a very present theme within the update so far, and secondly it's due to one scene; you know it, you love it, the Thanos snap scene! Within those short seconds of our favorites turning into dust(or well flour) we have Crunchy Chip yelling out to his majesty, practically begging for his life how "he doesn't want to be sick!" as everyone else accepts their fates

More on the subject, that'd be another interesting thing to see in this update, seeing Chip placed in such a vulnerable position like this could introduce a side to his character we've only briefly seen. As yes, this isn't the first time we see Chip get jumpy around the idea of death; if we turn back time, back to the Odessey, when the gang meets Seaweed Cookie, he's horrified by the fact they were walking over corpses (aka cookie crumbs) And this doesn't go unnoticed either, as he gets called out by Wildberry, which causes him to backtrack. I wouldn't even be surprised if his implicated fear of death may be part of the reason he's the Crunchy Chip we know & love today, maybe he uses his relationship with wolves as a means of protecting himself? Wolves are an apex predator after all! Will this add anything to the story? Possibly not, but would it flesh out Crunchy Chip as a character? Absolutely! (Sorry for the tangent, I thought this was all worth talking about cause it's such a cool idea!)

Now, we can't go anywhere without discussing the massive elephant in the room. . . Dark Choco Cookie's sudden return. Unlike most things, we do have a good idea of why he decided to follow his dad & come back. Firstly, it's a update focusing on Dark Cacao Cookie and his kingdom, it's a no brainer Choco would show up. Secondly from the Warm Together update, we know that he's been healing alone for a long time, so logically speaking, he wants to reconcile with his father, once & for all. And this is just my idea, but it'd really be cool to see Cacao & Choco work together in defeating Mystic Flour!

And that's all I got for now!✨ Surely, I'm only scratching the surface of what update has to bring, but I would say these are some solid ideas!~ Regardless, I'm super excited for this future update and the second trailer!!~

Please let me know what you think! Be on the lookout for my other projects And as always, stay tuned^^

[scoonsalicious]

6.2 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, toxic plants being manipulative and toxic.

Word Count: Bucky done fucked up.

Previously On...: 2.5k

A/N: Please note: I will be taking a one week break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th, to focus on writing. I will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was on his way! 

After disconnecting from her call with Bucky, Lily bent down to her front driver’s side tire and, using her car key, pried out the nail she’d run over to ensure it would go flat while she ran the trail. Walking to the edge of the parking lot, she hurled the nail into the woods, getting rid of any evidence that she’d manufactured the current predicament she “accidentally” found herself in.

It didn’t matter if Bucky hadn’t come home from his date last night. Hadn’t told her that he’d even been on a date to begin with. What mattered was that, when Lily had called, Bucky had left the bitch behind and had come running. To her.

And that meant something. 

Right?

Bucky could go out with some slut if he wanted to, but when Lily had needed him, Bucky had dropped everything to be there for her, and that knowledge made Lily’s insides glow with warmth. She was still his number one girl; she shouldn’t have let herself get worked up over one date that probably didn’t mean anything. Bucky had dated before, and Lily had made sure none of them stuck around for very long. This time wouldn’t be any different.

So, Lily waited. She checked her email, she played some games on her phone, she listened to a podcast. Finally, a little over an hour after she’d hung up with Bucky, she saw one of Tony’s sportscars speed into the parking lot and make its way to the trailhead.

Her heart sank at the thought of Bucky sending Tony Stark to help her in his stead, so it was quite a shock to her system when the car pulled up next to hers, turned its engine off, and Bucky himself stepped out. He wasn’t wearing his usual tshirt and jeans, no– he was wearing a rumpled burgundy button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the first couple of buttons left undone at his neck, and a pair of fitted, black trousers. 

Lily swallowed. His hair was a mess, but she could imagine how put together he must have looked the night before, and that made her stomach twist. He’d made an effort. He’d made a real, genuine effort to dress up for this date that he lied to her about.

“Hey, Lil,” he said, once she got out of her car to meet him. He smiled, but she’d known him long enough to be able to tell when his smiles weren’t genuine, and this one didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey, Jamie,” she said, offering him a fake smile  of her own to hide her distress. “Thank you so much for coming out. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“I’m sure Steve or Sam or anyone from the Compound would have been more than willing to help you out, Lil,” Bucky said as he walked to the back of her car. “Could you pop the trunk for me so I can get your jack and the spare?”

Lily bent her head back inside to unlock the trunk, rolling her eyes as she did so. If she’d wanted someone else to change her tire, she’d have just done it herself. Or, you know, not popped her own tire to begin with. But that was beside the point.

She walked around to the back of the car so she could help Bucky move things around in her trunk to get to her spare. “You’re dressed awfully fancy for a Sunday morning,” she said, watching him out of the side of her eye. “You find God and suddenly decide to start going to church?”

Bucky chuckled. “Something like that,” he said. Lily stole a glance in his direction and caught him smiling softly to himself as he pulled her spare out from the trunk with his vibranium hand. Taking her car jack in the other, he moved around to the driver’s side and began loosening the lug nuts with his left hand. Lily shivered when she considered how strong he was, how much power that one hand contained.

Once all the nuts were loosened, he slid the jack under the frame of the car and began raising it. He was annoyingly efficient at this, Lily thought, and she realized her window of time with him wasn’t as big as she had originally anticipated.

“So, where were you when I called this morning, really?” she asked, leaning up against the side of Tony’s car as she watched him work. She just wanted him to be honest with her. She didn’t think she could take it if he continued to lie.

Bucky stilled in his motions. “I… I, uh, had a date,” he said after a moment.

Lily paused, playing confused. “A date on a Sunday morning?” she asked him. “That’s a really weird—oh.” Bucky left the car suspended on the jack and turned to face her, hands shoved into his pockets, and the guilt in his eyes nearly palpable. 

Good, Lily thought. Let him be guilty, now that he realizes I know he lied to me. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone, Jamie,” she said, voice deliberately meek and soft. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Bucky sighed and leaned back against her car. “It’s new,” he said. “Like, really new.”

Good, she thought. This hasn’t been going on for a long time. There was still a good chance she could nip it in the bud before it grew into a real problem. “So, when you said you were out with Sam last night…” She left it hanging in the air. Let him be the one to say the word.

“I lied to you,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Why, Jamie?” she asked him. “I didn’t think we lied to one another.” She thought about the hole she’d punched in her own tire. Well, she didn’t think he lied to her.

“We don’t, Lil,” he said. “I just… It seems like whenever I start seeing someone new, you just…” he paused to consider his words, and Lily started to get nervous. Did he know… did he suspect the things she’d done in the past to keep other girls away from him? He couldn’t. She’d been so careful… “You just form a lot of opinions on them, really quickly,” he said, and she released a breath. He didn’t know anything. She was safe. “I wanted to get to know this girl on my own, without any outside influences, before I decided to find out what everyone else thought about her.”

“I only tell you what I think because I care about you, Jamie,” Lily protested in her gentlest voice. She was going to have to walk a very delicate line here, between stressing her point and sounding sympathetic. “I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I know you are, and I do appreciate it, but… I want to be able to figure out how I feel about this one before I start soliciting opinions about her from everyone else. Does that make sense?”

It did. Fuck, it did. Usually, Bucky was so eager to talk about the new girls he was dating, to introduce him to his best friends and find out what they thought about her, to get their opinions. If he was reticent this time, it could only mean one, horrible thing:

“You really like this girl, don’t you, Jamie?” Lily asked, trying so hard to keep her voice light, when inside, she felt like she was dying.

Bucky looked up at her. “Yeah, Lil,” he said, his dazzling white smile beaming at her and making her heart stop. “I really do.”

“That’s great,” Lily choked out. She turned back to the trunk of her car, pretending to busy herself with its contents so she didn’t have to look at him. “That’s really great.”

She heard Bucky move around and start working on the tire again. “Not really,” he said, his voice sounding dejected. Lily moved her head around from the back of the trunk to look at him. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, a spark of hope coming to life in her chest. 

Bucky let out a long sigh. “I think I might have blown it with her,” he said as he worked to take the flat tire off of her car. 

“Oh no,” Lily said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything, afterall. Maybe Bucky had managed to fuck it up on his own. “What happened?”

Bucky was silent for a moment as he replaced the tire with ease. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said eventually. “Let’s just say that we left things very… ambiguously. I asked her if I could call her later, she didn’t really give me an answer either way. Just kind of shrugged. If she wanted me to call her, she would have just said so, right?”

Lily felt her stomach do a happy flip, but she put on a fake pout. “Oh, Jamie,” she said, fake sympathy oozing over her words, “please don’t tell me she’s playing mind games like that with you already! If a girl wants you to call her, she’ll tell you to call her, not play hard to get.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky said defensively as he began re-tightening the lugnuts on the tire. “I just… I did something she didn’t like, is all. And she’s probably rightly pissed about it.”

Lily walked around the car to stand next to him as he finished up. “I don’t think I like this, Jamie,” she said cautiously. “You’ve barely started dating this girl, and already she thinks she can dictate your actions? That doesn’t seem healthy to me, at all.”

Bucky stood, running a hand across his face. “Nah, Lil– you’re… you’re getting it twisted. I made a mistake. I know I did, and she’s got every right to be mad at me about it. I need to talk to her, to sort it out.” Lily was losing ground; thankfully, she’d come prepared.

“Listen, Jamie,” she said, abruptly changing the topic in the hopes of getting his mind off this mysterious skank, “I was planning on having lunch up here today, since it’s so gorgeous out. I probably overdid it when I packed my food. Do you want to join me?”

Bucky heaved a sigh and looked like he was about to decline.

“Consider it my way of saying ‘thank you’ for you coming all the way out here to rescue me,” she added, knowing that she was laying it on thick, but not wanting him to walk away. “Come on, we’ll make a picnic of it. It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, alright,” Bucky said, letting a smile cross his face. “I could eat.”

Bucky Barnes always did have a soft spot for a damsel in distress. With a grin, Lily opened the backseat of her car and pulled out the cooler she’d preemptively packed in the hope that just such an opportunity would arise. Lily was nothing if not prepared. 

Bucky reached for it. “Here, let me,” he said, taking it from her. Lily smiled to herself as she reached back into the car to pull out the picnic blanket she’d packed. 

“Such a gentleman,” she said as she closed the car door and led Bucky down one of the trails. It was a gorgeous late-summer day, and Lily could almost convince herself they were on a real date together. Almost. God, what she wouldn’t give for this to be the real thing. 

After they’d walked for about fifteen minutes, Lily veered left off of the trail and into the woods. “You bringing me back here to kill me?” Bucky asked in a playful tone as he followed her with the cooler.

“Yup,” Lily teased right back. “I definitely have faith in my ability to take out a super soldier on my own.” Her heart swelled when she was rewarded with an amused chuckle from Bucky. 

Soon, they reached her destination: a cozy clearing that sat along the bank of a creek that ran through the park, with a small waterfall that fed a crystal clear pool below.

“This is nice,” Bucky said, coming up behind Lily as she fanned out the blanket. “How’d you find this spot?”

Lily sat down and reached to take the cooler from Bucky, beckoning him to join her. “I was scouting some potential off-trail runs for the recruits and just kind of stumbled upon it,” she told him. She opened up the cooler and began taking out the food she’d brought– all of Bucky’s favorites.

Bucky nodded, then looked at the spread with wide eyes. “You packed all of this for yourself, Lil?”

Lily felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks– she had not, in fact, packed it all for herself, but specifically in the hope that he would end up joining her, though he could never know that. “I guess I just overestimated how hungry I’d be after my run,” she told him as she handed him a bottle of water. “Thanks for joining me so that all this food doesn’t go to waste.”

“No problem,” he said as he began to tear into the food she’d brought. “Thanks for getting a flat tire, I guess,” he added with a laugh.

They ate amicably, making small talk about their upcoming plans for the week, and how Lily’s latest batch of recruits looked. Lily was itching to ask Bucky more about his mystery date, to find out who she was, if she was someone Lily knew; but she didn’t want to bring it up– the less Bucky talked about her, the more likely he was to just forget about her all together, right? Especially if he’d done something to piss her off. Better to keep him distracted so that the window of opportunity for any reconciliation closed without him noticing it.

Soon, the food was gone, the sun high in the sky. Lily and Bucky both lay back on the picnic blanket, staring lazily up into the blue sky. “We should do something today,” Lily suggested, trying not to sound too eager.

Bucky chuckled. “Aren’t we doing something now, Lil?” he asked.

She playfully shoved his shoulder. “Later, I mean. Like, we’re having a good time; we should continue it. Go somewhere nice for dinner, do something after, like go to a club or see a show or something. Make a whole ‘friend-date’ night out of it!” Anything, she thought to herself. I’ll do anything, as long as I’m doing it with you. And who knew what could happen in the right romantic setting?

“Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun,” Bucky mused. “Sure.”

“Really?” Lily couldn’t believe her luck. “Leave all the planning to me, then!” She’d make sure she got a table at the most romantic restaurant she could find, and get them tickets to something steamy that would put Bucky in the right mood… She knew just what dress to wear, to show just enough skin to be tantalizing…

Yes, tonight, things were going to change. Lily could feel it.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[a-french-coconut]

Travis Stoll (Part 4)

All the counsellors are seated around the pool table, Chiron towering over them in his centaur form.

There's some new faces Travis isn't used to see here.

Malcolm took Annabeth's place, his grey eyes are sullen, his blond hair a rat nest.

Ah. He does remember hearing Connor talk about how smart, amazing, clever, beautiful the son of Athena is.

Next to him is Miranda Gardiner, when she sees him looking at her she gives a small comforting smile. She's never been as bitter as Katie for the Easter bunnies.

Then there's Sherman for Ares who's new but the rest is familiar.

Jake Mason for Hephaestus, Drew for Aphrodite, his dear Will for Apollo and himself for Hermes.

As for the minor gods, Travis knows every counsellor.

Lou Ellen, Paolo, Damian, Chiara, Holly and Laurel, Clovis, Butch, all of them stayed under his care before Percy's wish to the Olympians.

He remembers fondly their departure from the Hermes Cabin. There had been crying, hugging as well as promises of always be there for them should they ever need it. He likes to think he kept that promise rather well, judging form the smiles he's receiving he doesn't think he's wrong.

"Children settle down, we have work to do."

"The prophecy is about Connor, I'm sure of it Chiron."

"I agree with Travis, in this context the youngest brother can only mean him", Malcolm adds.

"Any ideas for the questers ?" asks Miranda.

"Travis and me, tale as old as deceit must be a reference to Hermes stealing my father's cattle. Even more, the liar and the healer don't let place much more interpretations," reasons Will.

"I think I know where you headed," pipes up Lou, "the crying chants could mean the Underworld. Like, the screams of the damned from the Fields of Punishment."

"Charming interpretation Lou," he mumbles, shooting a small smile to the girl who only shrugs.

"You're clearly looking for a plant. One I suppose is from Persephone's garden. It is composed of flowers made from jewels which explains the gleaming petals and lifeless plants."

They all look at Drew with surprise.

"That's... that's actually a very good guess Tanaka," Damian says, shock written all over his face.

"You don't have to look so surprised. I think we have already established the fact that Aphrodite's daughters can be full of surprises, a lot of you know that."

"Miss Tanaka," warns Chiron, "this meeting is crucial to the survival of one of your campmates, please refrain from causing any kind of strife."

Drew huffs but otherwise stays silent.

Yes Drew, please don't mention the sensitive subject of Silena when my brother's life in on the line.

"Okay, so we know that Will and I have to go the Underworld and find a way to get the flower. All in two days, the scythe reaps at the end of the second day, it's Thanatos's one isn't it ? Connor got two days left, just like you said Will."

Two days to find an entrance to the Underworld.

Two days to convince a goddess to give them what they want.

Two days to come back with the cure.

It's not enough, the first day has already begun and they haven't even left Camp.

Travis's grips his chair under the table, fingers turning white.

It's not enough time and everybody in this room is aware of the irony.

A son of Hermes not being fast enough.

"Time passes differently in the Underworld, as it does in dreams by the way," yawns Clovis, "you cannot not try."

"What if I don't make it ? I have to be by my brother's side when he..." his voice cracks, "when he leaves us."

Clovis raises his eyebrow, "And if you don't try, you will be left with an everlasting doubt and guilt about doing nothing. I have travelled through so many dreams Travis, so many demigods consumed by regret. Connor will be into good hands here, surrounded by fiends. Your job as his brother is to do everything in your power to save him."

He concludes his tirade by face planting on the table, soft snores following quickly after.

"Now Damian, that's someone you can look with surprise," says Drew with a touch of admiration in her voice, "who knew Clovis could be such a philosopher ?"

Lou Ellen raises her hand.

"What about the price you are willing to pay ?", asks Holly, "obviously Persephone is not going to give you the flower for free. Gods, and me, never miss a chance to win something in a deal."

"She's right, a flower with the power the save someone's life..." Damian hesitates, "she'll want something equal in value."

Another life is left unsaid.

An eye for an eye, a life for a life.

Fair enough a deal, one Travis is willing to take.

"Travis, I'm not letting you go on this quest unless you promise not to sacrifice your life."

Will's voice is firm leaving no place for argumentation.

"What ? Will I have to go on this quest ! The prophecy says so."

"Don't lecture on prophecies ! It says that a liar must go on a quest to save a younger brother. It could very well mean Chris."

"Oh please ! We both know it means me ! Why would you not let me go on a quest to save my brother ?! You know more than enough what's it's like to lose them !"

"And that's why I don't won't to lose another one !"

Will's cracking voice leaves him silent. The others demigods are pointedly looking either at the ceiling or the ground, fidgeting uncomfortably on their seats.

The son of Apollo takes a big breath and looks in his eyes.

"Promise me, Travis, that you want exchange your life for the flower. I don't want that. Connor wouldn't want that."

Deep down, Travis knows his best friend is right.

"But", he says shakily, "it might the only way."

"It won't be. We'll find another one. We'll steal the damn flower if we need to. But you are not killing yourself."

Killing yourself

Killing yourself

Leaving Connor alone again.

Leaving Connor with the guilt of being alive because his brother died for him.

He crumbles on his chair and Will is instantly by his side, a comforting presence next to him.

"I promise you Will, I promise you I won't sacrifice myself."

The relief in the grip on his shoulder indicates him that Will believes him.

Chiron clears his throat.

"Mister Stoll and Mister Solace, please go back to your respective cabins and pack whatever you think is necessary. You are both experienced campers, I trust your judgment. You are to depart immediately."

Travis nods before standing up and leaving the Big House, not before the other counsellors wished him luck. He even received a bandanna from Paolo, the son of Hebe claiming it has magical properties.

Once he packed everything he needed and said goodbye to his siblings, he joins Will at Thalia's tree.

"Where are we going doctor ?"

"You're supposed to be the traveller, you tell me."

"You lack of knowledge is astonishing my dear friend, our destination is New York, Central Park."

"Underworld entrance I presume ?"

"You are sure you didn't inherit any kind of prophetic abilities ? You deduction skills are remarkable Watson !"

"Why am I Watson ? I'm smart enough to be Sherlock !"

"Watson's doctor dummy."

"And Sherlock's a drug addict. You're right, fits just like a glove."

Travis punches Will on the shoulder, the little brat snickering as he runs to Argos who's driving them to New York.

Hold on Connie, I'll save you, I promise.

part 5 posted !

[genericpuff]

Have you seen the Webtoon "Working with an Editor" Video? I feel like this explains a lot of how the platform's Originals end up in the states that they do. Based on that vid, it seems their editors are less the developmental or copy types, and more acquisitions and managerial focused. Which explains how some series have "an editor" for editorial oversight, while not being what readers would consider "edited".

oh there are... definitely things about the editors I can tell you based on what I've read and even been told directly by some Originals creators (obviously their names are going to remain anonymous here lol) Before I go into it, every editor and every contract is different, I have no way of actually knowing what goes on behind the scenes due to not being an Originals creator myself, so please take what I'm about to say with mountains of salt as much of it was either learned secondhand through creator AMA's and at best, firsthand through anonymous Originals creators who I've communicated directly with. Ultimately you should be getting your facts from the creators who actually speak up on this matter, not me.

1.) WT has a VERY small pool of editors who are currently being stretched incredibly thin. Bre Boswell, as an example, currently oversees 20+ comics, including Lore Olympus (though not anymore haha), Nevermore, The Kiss Bet, Down to Earth, and Castle Swimmer. She is not the only one with this big of a workload. Obviously with one person having to oversee this many series at once, it's virtually impossible for them to do the actual "editing" part of their jobs, even if they genuinely want to.

2.) The role of WT editor isn't the same as a traditional editor - many of them are simply liasons between creators and Webtoons, meaning any questions creators have about their schedules, salaries, etc. are directed to their editors who then contact WT on their behalf and relay the response back to the creators. The bare minimum requirement for their job seems to be just making sure that creators are following terms of services. The traditional role of editing - proofreading, offering advice and storytelling tweaks, etc. - seems to be entirely optional and dependent on how much time the editor can devote to the series (see #1) + how much creative input the creator is willing to accept.

3.) With how low WT's standards are and how overworked a lot of editors have become, many editors actually stop reading their respective comics after the first few episodes once they're confident that the creator can handle the series on their own without needing check-ups that they're following ToS. So in that respect they truly do just become messenger owls between the creators and WT (and IIRC creators send their episodes to their editors to upload, they don't do it manually themselves). This is also why there are webtoons that share the same editor but differ greatly in quality of writing and art - how well a webtoon is written and drawn is often entirely dependent on the creators making it (it's why Nevermore manages to be so consistently good despite having the same editor as Lore Olympus which is consistently awful lmao).

As an added little thing, I will not say who, but there is a specific editor who... often gets a looot of special treatment from WT, from what I've been told and heard. A lot of their series get away with way more than what others do and get a lot more advertising privileges.

(and no, it's actually not Bre LOL from what I've been told Bre is actually a very sweet person who's very chill to work with haha)

[starsailorjannystan]

in honor of @bg3-apprecimaytion's event! for @again-please's iconic elusory wizard girlboss tav: neve nomani 🔮🪄 from Dancing With My Demons (please read the whole Mercurial World series btw)

@again-please if your character is misrepresented in any way just let me know and i'll delete it no questions asked ✨️this is all extrapolation

if i'm late no i'm not you didn't see anything

12. memories snippets of neve's last day in baldur's gate. look at the clock, it's sad girl hour. word count: 4419

storm's eye

"Do not take oaths when you graduate from Blackstaff Academy."

--Ka'a Orto'o, Gnomic Utterances, CC IV xvi

Norry's shop is little more than a hole-in-the-wall, humble stone and wood and washed-out sign ensemble of a storefront, nothing like the famed portal of children's stories you’d wander in hoping to stumble upon opportunity and adventure.

Fortune favours the ones who bet on losing dogs, so you could take a chance.

You’d push the door open and strings of bronze bells would chime the merry little tune of serendipity.

Worn out drapes over small tables and shelves lined with books, bronze and gammanium arcane tools, miniature astrolabes, the stray fire elemental trapped in a crystal globe, dancing dust particles visible in the dim sunlight filtering through the windows, strings of colourful cantrip-infused trinkets that do nothing to help the shop's reputation as a curiosity store that provides unreliable magical objects (it's an unfortunate side effect of being associated to the Enchanter's Guild's name, uncancellable subscription, no refunds).

Magic safely contained in vials, jars, airtight bottles, neatly labelled and organized the way you'd store food or legal documents or body parts in a mortuary. Not a single living thing, no skin-prickling excitement that awakens at the mere mention of 'magic'.

The place is a light inconsequential spring breeze to the pulsing cold storms of the Weave.

Behind the counter, a young woman with pleated locks of strawberry-blond hair, a pale freckle-dotted face, and magic spilling out the eyes. The scroll she'd hold in her hands would go up in flames, and you’d very wisely choose a less hazardous place of commerce.

Well, a few days ago, that's the sight you would have been greeted with.

You've only taken refuge in this empty shop to avoid the tentacled monstrosity abducting people outside, after all.

Neve should be sleeping, which signals to her brain that now is the perfect time to wake up fully and work on the eldritch cannons problem.

Mornings always come to her sharp and early, crisp like dried tea leaves--so many things to do, so many tasks to get started on, so many readings to pick back up. But the light bravely soldiering on through her round window is not even pink yet, bathing her room in blue-gray hues that do nothing to lure her away from the covers.

No matter. She's awake, now.

The silver cylinders are waiting for her on her desk, exactly where she left them last night.

Neve slips out of bed and goes through the motions of her routine--splashing frigid water on her face, putting on her brown robes laid out at the foot of her bed, braiding her hair--and her train of thought starts following the path she'd agreed on with herself a few days ago. The eldritch cannons belong to a patron, a monster hunter in need of a magic touch on top of their skills, and Norry dropped the order in Neve's lap on top of everything else.

She can't resist taking a look at them before starting her day. Cold and smooth metal under her hands. She can feel the magic embedded in the mechanism--human-made. That's not the interesting part, though. Loaded in the cannons are silver capsules, which can split open to reveal empty insides. Scattered across her desk, half-finished explosive scrolls that she keeps worryingly close to her few belongings. What's the worst that could happen, anyway? The attic going up in flames?

Yes. That's why she traced a ward of containment along the wooden rim of the desk.

The only scroll she's finished is sitting in a bowl filled with blackened remains of charred silver--a neat line of ink disables the spell, running like a seam in the middle of the scroll. This hunter's quarry requires full-silver weapons, which lowers the melting point of the material, but it cannot coexist with the scrolls that are supposed to fill the capsules. The very nature of the spell endangers the metal, reaching the too-low melting point too fast.

It's an impossible endeavour, which makes it excitingly infuriating.

How do you slow down an explosion? Or rather, force everything around it to hold together?

She's still trying to figure that part out.

The key is probably in the acceleration upon release of the mechanism's trigger, but the trick is to force the spell into holding together long enough—at least until it's out of the barrel, and out of the hunter's hand. Perhaps magical cooling would help? Books on frost magic are harder to find, but Neve is pretty sure she can get around that.

It's in cases like this that she bumps against the frustrating limits of her education. What ten-year-olds learn in academies, she has to knuckle her way through it, scraping together unrelated pieces of knowledge, reading between the lines written by long-dead archmages.

Well, no time like the present, right? First things first: harvesting the ingredients needed for the morning batches of potions.

On the roof, Neve's day dress sways on the clothesline, rippling in the wind. The chilled air carries the promise of rain, and even if she'll probably need to take her clothes to dry inside, it's a welcome change from the stifling atmosphere of the attic.

Her garden is a well-kept square made of orderly rows of magical herbs, culinary vegetables and berries. Along the neat edges of soil that turns downright frosty and hard in winter, complicated glyph patterns glow an eerie purple, keeping hungry insects away. They also form the base of an invisible energy dome protecting the plants from rain and hail--she cannot stomach seeing her little garden in ruins again, ever since a summer storm so sudden she didn't even have the time to pull the tarp up destroyed it a few years ago.

Away from the patch of earth sits a clay pot full of birdseed that she refills every tenday, when a couple of turtledoves stop on her windowsill, stretching their necks to peer inside her room. Sometimes, she'll put her work aside for a minute to get closer to them, and even if they're about to fly off, they'll change their minds and stay, letting her pet them. When she talks to them, they cock their little heads, beady black eyes watching her intently. They always stay when she talks, waiting until she's finished to leave.

It's the same couple, every time. She recognizes their matching white-spots.

(This grave is no home, they chirp. A heart-shaped hole in an axe's blade does not make it less of an axe.)

It's only her on the roof today, though.

She kneels in the madder soil of her much smaller plot of herbs--this one is surrounded by a much more potent combination of blue glyphs to keep the plants inside. That's where she grows the less appealing spell components, like daggerroot, oleander, henbane, aberrations of mugwort and rogue's morsel unfit for consumption and healing potions. Insects end up here, crushed by creeping vines, mixing with oxblood provided by the butcher's shop.

She pulls the roots and the soil stains her fingers, gets under her nails, the blood-fed stems rough to the touch.

Sharp pain lances through her wrist when she puts the roots in her woven basket, and she braces for the uncomfortable nerve-tingle that follows in her fingers. She'll try to write more with her other hand today, then.

She gets up and dusts herself off, her trousers spotted with earth and unfortunate ants.

No weavemoss here, she thinks wryly.

Neve blinks sweat out of her eyes and huffs. One more batch and she'll be done with today's first set of chores.

The fumes rising from the cauldron's surface press against her cheeks in hot swirls, and she cannot wait to wash it all off. Her eyes sting and her back is smarting with pain again and her stomach makes her acutely aware that it's almost noon.

Once she's satisfied with the colour and consistency of the mixture, she starts filling the pear-shaped glass vials that she'll have to label and put on the shelves later--but first she'll probably have to postpone lunch, she has to be in the shop to receive a shipment of wolfsbane and leave it in the decontamination salt circle for at least five days before using it, it has a bad habit of sucking the nutrients out of the soil and being a menace to the other plants, oh and there's still autumn crocus in the stocks, is there not? If not she'll have to make a quick trip to the botanical gardens, get more seeds, because the way they grow crocus (next to the strawberry stolons) is absolutely horrendous.

The cauldron is emptied until only dregs are left.

Neve settles at her workbench and starts grinding the mugwort roots she dried using her homebrewn rid-of-moisture spell. Once thoroughly crushed into a fine brown powder, she sifts it before mixing it with the pressed daggerroots in a clay bowl. She could keep going and turn this mixture into a proper oil, but that's not her end goal. Well, she is going to use it to coat the capsules and enhance their accuracy to the point that they'll never miss their target--better keep these explosions very, very localized.

However, this doesn't solve the melting off problem. The heat is dangerous for the cannons but also for the handler, who must take their mission seriously if they're willing to waste that much pure silver into a weapon, and as a result of its use, into, well, corpses (Neve tries not to think about that part too much. Yes, she's daydreamed about fire-bolting the careless cart-drivers who rush past her in the street while almost flattening playing children, but it stays what it is. A thought. She has more than an inkling that the client chose Norry's shop for its unobstrusiveness rather than for its quality of service.)

She needs something else. Something that, used in a different way, could solve her problem. Deerskin pouches rest on the shelves, but she knows none of them contains what she's looking for.

"What do you think?" She asks the cow doll slumped against her window--a gift from a little girl after she'd given her a healing potion for free three years after the start of her apprenticeship.

Black mica eyes stare back at her.

Oh gods. Two more years like this and she'd start animating the doll to get an answer.

Supply lines from the southern Sword Coast have been cut for weeks, narrowing the range of ingredients at her disposal. The Merchant's League is supposedly working on it, but most of the shops she frequents have been relying on stocks and seaborne trade. With certain components missing, one has to get creative and be willing to crack some eggs at random for... mixed results, to say the least.

Neve doesn't need to go through a lot of trial and error. She just knows. She sees the experiment failing before even setting up the materials.

She has to. She's running on limited reserves of time and energy.

Experiments play out to the end in her head, or stop when something goes awry--a misshapen ward, an ingredient shortage, too much heat under the cauldron, unsought results. When she encounters a problem that needs many steps for solving, she lays them out neatly, holds them each in her mind's eye, spins them in six or seven different directions to establish the most efficient and cost-effective way of accomplishing her task. Sometimes, an unexpected development prompts her to drop lines of thought, or add new ones.

Ingredients don't behave in unexpected ways unless you make them.

When she sees the solution too soon, it leaves her with mixed feelings. Yes, it's gained time, but she likes the challenge, and the feeling of being right that follows.

Small victories. She'll take them.

Maybe a temporary seal on the capsules to isolate them?

Norry is (or, rather, was a long, long time ago) a sealing specialist, and the back of the shop houses stacks upon stacks upon stacks of books on ward technique left to gather dust and cobwebs. Neve's made her way through a solid third of the collection, but quickly realized this was more a hoarder's trove of mostly dead languages than useful accounts of sealing spells. Still, she keeps a new tome on her bedside table, writing down any new information she can make out of it, referring to her translation notes and inferring purpose and spell components from context and common sense.

Her old master doesn't care much for frivolity or obvious displays of sentimentality, but he treasures most of his books like they're his own children.

He sure cares about them more than he does about Neve, not that his indifference comes from a place of genuine malice.

At least she's not on the streets selling her backside to the highest bidder, but there are some nights when even this thought offers only meagre comfort, nor does the knowledge that this alternative wouldn't have bothered anyone, least of all her parents.

Nights become the theatre of uncomfortable dreams--a cottage in faraway farmlands, where she'll be blessedly alone and only worry about her raspberry bushes and honeysuckle flowerbeds that she'll grow only for tea, no more soulless potion brewing in a dark room, coffee in the morning and getting dressed up to go nowhere, free to do whatever she wants with her days.

A place that's hers, no conditions attached, and in her wildest dreams, it's built for two.

She dreams of a slow, peaceful, rose-tinted life and doesn't think about the implications of retirement, because to retire she'd first have to live through something, anything, and it hurts and it doesn't stop there, because even though it's been ten years memories and dreams still blur together.

The in and out of a sewing needle, the embroidered bodice of a recently-mended pinafore dress that will be outgrown in a year and never mended again, lilac-scented hair she buried her face in, the forgotten feeling of laying her head on someone's shoulder, of a hug--

--a feral smile dripping with blood, the cut of a diamond, magic coursing through her marrow, splitting the skies, shattering the earth--

--waking up, the dream already evaporating, leaving her with the ghost of it, sitting on the edge of her bed, her guts twisting with aching loneliness, lack and emptiness all around her.

Others she spends in the throes of nightmares that never end nor clarify. Undefined. Black chasms and the slow agony of breath forced out of her lungs, burdened down, down, and this single thought like a death sentence, like cold truth: forever. this life all alone forever and ever and ever.

Those nights end with her eyes snapping open like a mechanical toy's from the artificer's shop, her brain leaning back in its chair, satisfied like a cat who got the cream of despair, I'm done! Please go on with your day! and she does, of course she does, because what other choice does she have?

Adjusting the shoulder strap of her satchel across her chest, Neve smooths the rumples of her day dress and locks up the shop, checking the defensive wards one more time--Norry left for an astronomy conclave with old colleagues in the countryside, entrusting her with the completion of the ongoing commissions and the never-ending list of magical items of service that need enchanting.

She's got some way to go before reaching Rivington, where she is to post a letter to Candlekeep.

Despite her earlier predictions, it hasn't rained yet.

She walks past busted open crates, wine spilling on the cobblestone path, broiling low clouds casting shadows across the buildings, wind carrying the smell of salt and fish and rotting fruit from the docks, the mix cloying in the back of her throat. It could have made for an unappealing brew if Neve didn't relish every second spent outside. Everything beats feeling like an old maid sealed off away from civilisation. Conversations no longer muted by walls reach her ears, the hum of the city, the hustle and bustle of shopkeepers.

Being lonely in a crowd rivals being alone in the attic.

Her path leads her closer to the docks, zig-zagging between sailors unloading ships, coming and going and dragging crates that clink with the tell-tale sound of wine and whiskey and rum bottles, the rumble of their steps on the gangplanks like the familiar ticking of clockwork.

Ivory tiles of Bite and Sting blink at her from a draughts stand, hand-painted bees and foxes and wolves laid up or down, sailors swearing and mutually accusing each other of cheating. Its companion card deck lies ignored in the muddy puddle at the sailors' feet. A few paces away, a lanceboard is perched on a barrel where two lanky laundresses are leaning on their elbows. Neve slows down, just enough to check out the board, and she can tell they're playing by Moonsea rules, if the broken Mystras laying on their side are anything to go by.

Near a warehouse, elderly seafarers skewer and skillet fish gasping for water. A rivulet of blood serpents around the lumps of wood and drips to the ground, carrying ripped scales.

High noon sunrays glint off Steel-Watchers patrolling on the piers. Neve can't say she likes seeing them around, but she can't deny she's curious to know what kind of spell animates them. She put aside incredibly rare books on armor magic from Khorvaire that Norry keeps in boxes in the attic like they're worthless junk but it seems she never has enough time to settle down and catch up on all her reading.

Watching the ebb and flow of low waves against the wooden pier pillars reminds her of all her compiled notes on elemental magic. She has no one to share them with, no one to comment on the capillaries-bursting focus she's attained to channel lightning, crackling wisps of blue light between her fingers, she'd been so ecstatic over finally managing to do it that she'd immediately broken her concentration the first time. No one to remark on her control of water, which she primarily uses to conduct electricity. No one to talk to, at all.

It's fine, though. She's spent ten years virtually on her own in Baldur's Gate. She can handle herself.

And if she hugs herself at night pretending to be held by someone else, and if she sometimes goes to Umberlee’s temple and skims her fingers over the flowers floating in the fountains and holds them in her hands long enough to convince herself she has someone to give them to, and if she dreams of curling up and laying her head against someone’s chest to fall asleep to the sound of their heartbeat, well.

No one has to know.

The carrier pigeons of Sword Coast Couriers lounge under the sun, coats of feathers puffed up around them, looking like satisfied, plump, red and brown balls.

They look so peaceful to Neve, unburdened by debt and earthly matters and free to go wherever they wish.

They tweet at her as she enters the post office.

Danzo Arkwright, dwarven head honcho of the postal service, stands behind the counter, arguing with a customer--a darkling, hood lowered.

"No, no, no! Your hells-spawned bird already murdered seven of my carrier pigeons!"

An outraged gasp. "Hells-spawned? How dare you? He's as pure and innocent as the day he hatched from his egg! These were all unfortunate--"

"Well, I'm afraid I cannot let it join the ranks of the carriers."

The darkling clicks his tongue, pulls his hood up, draws himself up to his full height--Neve's, give or take the thickness of a hair--and turns on his heels.

On his way out, Neve catches a small flash of grey feathers and yellow-ringed eyes of the cuckoo he cradles in the crook of his elbow.

(He's saying Kill your whole family with an oyster knife. Do it and you'll be free. He's really fun at parties though, and this whole cannibalism affair in 1487 was a complete misunderstanding.)

Danzo glares daggers at his back until he recognizes Neve and smiles.

"Miss Nomani," he greets, crow's feet deepening around his eyes. He used to see a lot of her when she still sent letters to her father, and winked at her conspiratorially whenever she slipped a new letter to The Baldurian Post's editor across the wooden counter.

Still, his gaze quickly leaves hers when he spots another regular behind her.

She hands him the letter and thanks him before leaving.

The darkling is nowhere in sight, and she decides to allow herself one wishful trip to Sorcerous Sundries before going back to the shop.

A month ago, the Castle of Tomes issued a challenge: every scholar of magic was invited to send a new classification of the complete works of Ka'a Orto'o. If the classification was deemed an improvement compared to the previous one, the scholar would win the privilege of hearing their name added to the prayers of the Avowed.

And nine thousand gold coins.

Mostly nine thousand gold coins.

Of course, a wizard always pursues knowledge for knowledge's sake.

But nine thousand gold coins can't hurt someone's pride, which is a crucial aspect to consider when one has to deal with wizards, and it's a good carrot to convince scholars to dive back in Orto'o's works.

The true order of composition of Gnomic Utterances is a hotly debated topic in a pinpoint niche of the wizarding community. Voluntarily published out of order and purposefully mislabelled, it comes only second to the complete works of Volothamp Geddarm in terms of inanity and usefulness.

These works have nothing to envy to each other--rife with historical inaccuracies, bad puns, and piecemeal points of interest. It's a colossal waste of ink and paper and breath in arguments--in the year 1432, two wizards destroyed an entire reconstructed spelljammer fleet outside of Melvaunt in an explosion of magic after their discussion got too heated.

Unlike most wizards, Norry seems to have lost the need for posturing and constant ego-stroking, and thus didn't even spare a glance for the letter informing him of this challenge, resuming his tasks with the characteristic unhurried pace of an immortal being.

Which was tacit permission for Neve to sign up.

(To be quite honest, it's the hotly debated part that attracted Neve in the first place.)

It's the kind of work that relies on the reader to understand. But understand what?

Neve is a self-taught wizard through and through. She's used to figuring things out on her own. She's studied books until her eyes started weeping blood.

This proved not to be much different.

Of course, these books are an assortment of the most moronic, even if somewhat amusing in an absurd way, thoughts to have ever crossed anyone's mind since Ao created the Realms.

That's not what's important about them.

People have spent so much time unable to see the forest for the trees and dismissing Ka'a Orto'o as a bumbling old fool of a gnome that they've missed what was always sitting in front of them.

Because Gnomic Utterances paints a bigger picture: a complete map of Baldur's Gate ley lines--the most basic of basics of a wizard's education. There's a reason why the city is more often than not simply called "the Gate". It's not enough to read the words--a cryptographic approach suited this endeavour a lot better. In the right order, sentences bounce off of each other to create a brand new text.

The city is a gate for what Orto'o calls "the Swarm", some sort of collective-consciousness entity sealed off somewhere hundreds of years ago.

Even if Neve wasn't positive her proposition is the right one, she knows it's at least an interesting interpretation backed up by textual and magical evidence.

She's put in all the work she could. Now she can only wait for a response.

She signed the letter with her own alliterative initials, N.N.

Usually, everything that leaves Norry's shop bears Norry's seal. It's a frustrating erasure of Neve's work, and at the same time a safety net that fuels Neve's fear of being found out. That one day she'll be looked at and looked through and she'll have to make up for the fact that it's only her. That hypothetical people will assess and dismiss her in the same look.

As long as no one knows, as long as it's only her with herself, she's safe.

The solution hits Neve as she cracks an egg against the counter.

Yellow yolk spills in the pan and instantly starts sizzling, and she looks for her inkwell to write it down before she forgets. She's too tired to work on anything more tonight, but she'll get it started first thing tomorrow morning.

It's well into the night already, and she's barely pep-talked herself into eating a little before finally passing out on her bed.

Her brown robes are neatly folded and laid out on her small coffer, ready to be put on tomorrow, and there's nothing but the grating sound of her feather against parchment in the bare room.

A clutter of meaningless knick-knacks that see her leave in the morning and come back in the evening. Ropes of thyme and mint to drown out the burnt stench of cauldron dregs. Half-hearted attempts to decorate the place over the past ten years, but it'll take more than her good will and the smell of humid wood on rainy days to turn this attic into a home she'll be happy to go back to.

The space is lived in because she lives here, not because it's hers.

Surely, there are better ways to fall asleep that don't involve the gnawing feeling of being part of the book and arcane tools collection, left to be coated in dust and dashed hopes.

Surely.

Her scarce belongings are exactly where she left them.

Her abandoned and creased day dress, the bundle of unsent letters she keeps under her pillow, the little cow plush slowly losing its fluff. Dusty books on a bedside table, notes sticking out from various pages. Outside, the garden left to wither under a protection dome that's slowly killing it now that no one's here to renew it properly. Turtledoves pecking at an empty clay pot.

The little attic doesn't miss her, or wait for her return.

Don't think it cold-hearted.

It's just glad she got away.

[rustyvanburace]

Okay, so. This is incredible. I found out that the Japanese SMT IV Final website actually provided some icons of the characters for use on Twitter.

And... lmao. The ONE time that IVA actually acknowledges Navarre's sidequest in IV is through these icons.

The sidequest icon is VERY nice actually. This has to be the highest quality resolution I've seen thus far of his sidequest portrait. I wish I had the full thing.