#anyway shoutout to anyone who read this far

[no-fxn-club]

I’ve had such a long last few days and I’m overheated as hell by everything and I want to throw up bc of stuff I’ve seen

[daz4i]

I'm gonna let you in on a badly kept secret. most of my dazai analysis is truly just me projecting. but being decent enough at bullshitting to make it sound convincing so ppl usually end up agreeing with my takes

[uglypastels]

Your Logan fics have been great. I enjoy your style and how you write him. It’s so so good.

I had an idea while reading the brainwashed reader one:

Logan is on a mission to a bunker or lab or something for the X-men. Charles requested told him he had to go and help Scott. They go to this bunker and it ends up being a rescue for some mutants that were being experimented on and one of them once back at the mansion is having issues with controlling their power, and Charles asks Logan to help them. I picture the power being very volatile so Logan is there to help because he can take a hit and heal from it. Cause the reader is too scared to use the power on anyone and Charles told them he had the perfect teacher.

thank you so much!!

shoutout to @deceptive-daydreams for helping me come up with the details of this thing. had a lot of fun, as always, writing this request, so please keep em coming yall.

warnings: implied PTSD. platonic teacher/student dynamic. fire. explosions. swearing. anxiety. lots of banter and fluff.

Masterlist ~ X-Men Requests are Open

It had been two weeks since you had moved into the Mansion. Moved in. That’s all that you could bring yourself to call it, doing your best to not think about anything up to the moment that you had been ushered inside the large building and given a room to stay in for as long as you pleased. It had taken at least three days for you to actually get out of there, to let yourself roam the halls freely, reminding yourself that it was safe. 

For you, at least. No one would harm you here.

But not the same could be said about the rest.  

You had never been fully capable of controlling your powers, feeling more like they controlled you instead. When you were held captive, it was them who held power over both. But now that you were free, it was time for things to change. That much had been clear from the second you set foot in the mansion.

Professor Xavier had given you permission to make use of the Danger Room to train as long as you were under the supervision of one of the faculty members—something that should have given you comfort but instead only formed more anxieties.

‘I don’t want to hurt anyone,’ you confessed.

‘You can’t do this on your own,’ the Professor smiled softly. ‘As with any skill, a fine mentor is the first step to succeeding.’

You weren’t sure about that, but also knew that alone, you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere anyway. 

‘Don’t worry,’ the Professor read your mind. ‘I have just the teacher for you.’

⮿

You had recognised Logan as the man who had helped you escape. Who held your hand and hadn’t let go until you stopped shaking. Who gave you soft reassuring smiles whenever you saw eachother across the corridors, reminding you that were alright here.

You knew he was a skilled fighter, but, truthfully, you had not expected him to be the one Professor Xavier assigned as your supervisor in this training endeavour.

‘Show me what you got, kid.’ He said as he took off his leather jacket, and you immediately wish he hadn’t.

‘It’s probably better to keep it on.’ You stated, wincing at his exposed skin. He looked up at you, taking a moment to comprehend what you meant until the nickel fell with recognition.

‘Right.’ He put the jacket back on and leaned against the wall as you watched him expectantly for further instructions. ‘So, what do you do?’

‘You know what I do.’ You couldn’t help but laugh at the question.

‘Explain it to me again.’ He shrugged.

‘Well… I set things on fire.’ The words came out apprehensively.

‘No. I said, explain it to me. Dumb it down like I was a five year old.’ This felt ironically hard to do as you felt like he knew more about your power at this moment than you ever had.

‘I don’t understand—’

‘To be able to control your abilities, you got to understand it.’ Logan clarified. ‘Know what it is that you’re actually doing and you’ll know what to do to keep it contained.’

Yeah, if put like that, it made sense. It also sounded far easier than it was. Understand it, and you’ll be able to control it. Sure. You thought for a moment, back to school and the damn chemistry classes you hated, but now suddenly started to feel rather useful. ‘I uhh… manipulate atoms, rearranging them with the air and heat around them to cause objects to catch a flame.’

‘That’s more like it.’ He praised, and even though it barely meant anything, you felt yourself smile at the kind words. ‘How much have you got it under control?’ But then the question and his inquisitive glare down at you made you feel very aware of your body and your mind.

‘With uhm— with enough concentration I mostly I target the right object, but once the fire is up, I can’t contain it.’ Which was the most important part. If uncontained, the fire would just spread, destroying everything in its way. That much you already knew. You still woke up screaming from the memories of the radiant flames and screaming all around you.

‘And, nothing personal, but I gotta ask, controlling the fire also falls under your division?’ He had crossed his arms.

‘Uhm…’ you didn’t know how to respond to that. 

‘Only asking because we had this kid Jonny who could control fire, but he needed a spark to start it. Maybe you two are two sides of the same coin?’

‘No, I have managed it before. But never long. It would go up and down and up again, the way I wanted it to, but it was exhausting and then I couldn’t handle it and it would all go  to shit.’ You started rambling, and just like the fires, you couldn’t get yourself to stop.

‘Alright, alright.’ Logan spoke calmly. ‘First thing we gotta do is work on you.’

You blinked slowly.

‘It’s all the same with you elemental kind. It’s all in your head. If you can’t get your emotions under control, then the fire will never go out.’

‘That… makes sense.’ You took a deep breath and thought of all things sweet and soft and calm.

‘Alright, I haven’t got all day.’ He clapped his hands, and you tried to not let the loud sound get to you. 

Let the games begin. 

⮿

A few weeks went by, and you wish you could have said you were making progress. 

No, you had to be kinder to yourself. There was progress. It just wasn’t at the pace you had hoped to reach at this point. Logan had helped you with your targeting, and you could proudly say that you had reached an estimated 98% accuracy score. The larger objects you had no problem with, but the smaller and the further away things were, the more you seemed to struggle. Which was perfectly fine, Logan reminded you.

‘You expect to be able to hit a bullseye in the dark from a hundred yards away?’ 

‘I’m sure some people could,’ you mumbled, frustrated as you watched the wrong matchbox in the near line of 4 burn to a pile of ashes.

‘Beating yourself up about it is not gonna help you, kid.’ Logan said, already replacing the box with a new one. ‘Again.’

Knowing that complaining about his training methods would not help either, you simply squinted and focused on the third matchbox, doing your best to ignore the other ones lying around. They simply did not exist. All there was, was this one stupid matchbox— whoosh, and suddenly, the box was no more, just a pilar of blue flames. In your excitement at having finally hit your target, you had completely forgotten to keep the fire down. 

‘Shit, shit, sorry.’ You did your best to suppress it, but it seemed like the fire was in a funny mood today and decided to do the exact opposite of your demands as it grew by the second until Logan had no choice but to drench it with a bucket of water. 

⮿

‘Have you gone mad?’ You stared blankly up at Logan, who–much too confidently, in your opinion– positioned himself a few paces ahead of you. A cigar in hand. 

‘It’s clear that you need some incentive.’

‘I don’t think your death wish can be called that.’ You protested. ‘I’m not doing it.’ ‘Yeah you are.’ He simply said. ‘I’m the teacher. I’m telling you to light the damn thing, so get on with it,’ he growled as he put the cigar between his teeth.

‘Actually insane.’ You said to yourself. ‘There is no way this is going to end well.’

‘Focus sweetheart.’ He did his best to look calm and composed, but you saw how his shoulders tensed as you prepared to do the task. There was so much more you wanted to say to him, but you just had to block it out. All of him had to cease to exist. All you saw was the tip of the cigar. The tiniest layer of tobacco, the–

You shrieked as Logan’s face disappeared behind a cloud of black smoke as the cylinder in his mouth exploded. 

‘Oh my god, Logan!’ You ran to him, relieved as you heard him cough. With the smoke gone, you were happy to realise that it had only been the cigar that had exploded, leaving behind the tiniest but right where Logan had held it in his mouth. The rest of it combusted all around him. ‘Are you alright?’ 

His entire face was black with soot. You watched him wipe it off his eyes, blinking sporadically, clearly dazed from the explosion. You edged to repeat your question of concern, but before you had the chance to, Logan held a thumb up, spit the bud of the cigar out, and coughed out another thick cloud of smoke. 

‘All’s good, bub.’ And you would have believed him if not for the fact he sounded like a cat that had just been suffocated, his burnt throat squeaking out the vibrations of his voice. ‘Let’s try—’ he was about to suggest another exorcise before he erupted in another coughing fit. 

Easy to say you had called it a day after that.

⮿

‘Alright, easy now.’ Logan directed you. 

‘I know what I’m doing, Lo.’ You retorted. All day long, he had been just non-stop talking, making it very hard for you to focus on the job at hand.

‘Do you?’ He quipped, making you glare back at him just long enough for the fire to double in size. You cursed as you held it back down—at least, that’s something you were able to do now. 

‘You got to focus.’ He came over to you as you put the fire out completely.

‘Well, stop distracting me.’ 

‘That’s easy enough here, but what do you think out there’s gonna be like?’ He cocked his head at the walls, indicating the outside world, where indeed, there were distractions aplenty. ‘No one’s gonna give you time to do your breathing exercises in the real world, kid.’

‘Then why give them to me in the first place?’

‘I’m not the one you want to fight,’ was all he said in response. It had been months, and by now, he knew all there was to know about you in the learning environment. He knew how to push your buttons, fire you up and hose you back down. He could tell what you were thinking and it was infuriating that you could not figure out the same about him.

But, suppose that’s what made him the teacher and you the student.

‘Sorry,’ you sighed, letting yourself fall onto the ground, pulling your knees up to your chin. ‘It’s just so frustrating. We’ve been here for months and—’

‘And we’ll stay here for months more if that’s what you need to improve yourself.’ He squatted beside you. ‘You got this. No need to give up now. Or else my time here’s really been a waste, and I don’t take to that too kindly.’ He gave you that smile that once had only been reserved for quick passes in the hallway but now had become the favourite part of your nearly daily training sessions.

‘Sorry,’ you laughed. 

‘Don’t be.’ He got up, extending his hand as leverage as you got back onto your feet as well. ‘Think you got one more in you for today?’

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[bougiebutchbitch]

NGL I do find it funny that the side of the fandom yelling “if you’re uncomfortable with the way Con showed up to a livestream with his whole bulge on prominent display you’re homophobic” is the same side of the fandom that was harboring multiple sexual predators lol throwback to the Canyon Kink Camp!! Anyway shoutout to the canyon for knowing how to be normal about people’s boundaries <3

I notice you sending this message to multiple people. On anon. Smells like teen cowardice.

So, first off -

You are lying through your teeth.

Victims of two sexual predators came forwards... and those sexual predators were immediately thrown out of the canyon. They were blocked/black-listed everywhere and deactivated! Explain to me how that is 'harbouring'?

Some weirdo also started harassing the victims because they were a friend of the perpetrators. They were...... also....... mass blocked and lost all their popularity, as far as I'm aware (I don't actually know that person, and am not on Twitter, etc.)???

Sexual predators will show up literally anywhere in society - including in your precious fandom spaces. Pretending that your half of the fandom is 'pure' and 'perfect' is, in fact, far more dangerous than acknowledging that there were predators, and dealing with them.

Especially when the antis were the ones crowing that people like me, who are abuse and rape survivors IRL, had 'no idea what abuse/rape looks like', and still are making claims like that in the tags - as well as sending asks accusing us of lying about our trauma.

All because we like a fictional character who you hate.

As for Con showing up in his underwear...

Literally nothing was showing.

You saw the SHAPE of a bulge. It was no more revealing than Tom Hiddleston's Loki outfit, and there have been uncensored gifs of that flying around willy-nilly (pun intended) for years without anyone being Shocked and Disgusted about it.

If you're not bothered by men being in underwear when you go to the beach and see guys rocking a budgie smuggler, but you're throwing a massive stink about a queer man being in his underwear on a ticketed show that was always marked as Explicit, and using it as an excuse to call him a sexual predator, I honestly don't know what to say to you.

Boundaries are real and important.

But if you went to an explicit stream and saw something mildly suggestive there, and proceed to accuse a queer man of being a sexual predator... You are the problem.

And yes, you are a homophobe.

Even if you are queer yourself, you are contributing to the dangerous rising current of accusing queer people of being 'degenerate' and 'perverse' for merely existing, because - oh, think of the children.

And that's without mentioning that Con is a vocal supporter of trans kids in the UK. We all know how queer people who dare to support trans people are unjustly painted as predators. It's happening on Tumblr, with the mass reporting and banning of trans men and women for 'inappropriate content' that is no more explicit than what cishet people have on their blogs. It's happening all over the world.

Hell, all profits from Con's livestream went to Mermaids (UK charity for trans folx) and true colours united (homeless lgbt youth charity).

Take a good long look at your argument. Take a good long look at the current political climate for queer people. Ask yourself who your insistence that Con is sexually inappropriate for... wearing underwear, is really helping.

If you feel this unsafe around even the vaguest suggestion of genitalia, the onus is on you to avoid any streams where you might encounter it. You're no different than people who read Explicit-marked work on AO3 and leave hatemail for the authors because you encountered smut.

[fragilecapric0rnn]

Anyway, It's About Old Friends

Steddie When Harry Met Sally AU || Complete

Chapter 6: 1999, Part 2

Eddie leans down and kisses him. Slow and deep, a hand traveling down Steve’s body, calloused fingers softly brushing over the lightly puckering skin, scars of a time that feels so far, almost like it wasn't his life. Because this is his life, what he should have been doing, There should have never been a part of his life where he wasn’t wrapped up in everything that is Eddie Munson.

Everything changes.

This is it! The end of an era!

((this is the chapter that earns the E rating just BTW))

An epilogue will be uploaded as it's own installment! Thank you to anyone and everyone who took the time to read/comment/bookmark/think about/talk about/recommend this fic!

Shoutout to my boys;

@kkpwnall @cheatghost @judasofsuburbia @fastcardotmp3 @figthefruitfaeth

@snowangeldotmp3 @gideoncharov

Thank you for always encouraging me, both with this fic, all of my works, and in life!!!! I could cry, I can't believe this fic is over!!!!

It was a labor of love, devotion, and an homage to the best romantic comedy every made, my home, and these two idiots who have owned my heart since summer of 2022 💓

[pseudophan]

some post wad weekend thoughts...

i just wrote all this on the plane and haven't read it through so apologies for any mistakes

first of all, this weekend was incredible. i usually just kinda sit at home doing not much of anything, and this was a much needed break to actually have some fun. london in general always lifts my spirits but i suppose that danisnotonfire guy contributed a little as well.

guys i think i've met more people the past few days than i otherwise have in years. like. holy shit. i started listing people but i'm petrified i'll forget someone so i chickened out, sorry about that. but you all know who you are. i've met friends i've had for years, people i used to know but haven't spoken to in what feels like a decade, newer friends, and a frankly baffling amount of people i didn't know yet but who told me they've followed me for ages. like holy fuck you guys lmao what the hell??? and i mean did the reaction ever get old no of course it didn't. bad for my ego i'm sure but totally worth it. there's something very amusing and incredibly surreal about being chronically lame in most aspects of life and then suddenly finding yourself in an environment where you're kinda cool???? SO fucking fun oh my god, but also i do kinda feel like i've tricked you all? but hey i'll happily let you keep believing i'm cool, that is more than fine with me.

most importantly though everyone was SO lovely. like i said i don't think i've spoken to this many people in such a short amount of time in years and every single person i talked to was awesome. guys did you know phannies are kind of great... don't tell anyone but, lowkey... everyone is so funny and cool and absolutely insane but in a good way (shoutout everyone left at the gates until the very end, we should probably get some help).

and then lastly of course, mr howell himself. i talk about this a lot i feel like but fuck me that man was born to perform. whether you think he's actually funny or not, nobody can argue he doesn't absolutely thrive on a stage. he plays off the audience so well and he's so very obviously having the time of his fucking life. i'd already seen the show twice before this, and i didn't think anything would top the previous london show but man... the first night he came back out after the show having clearly been tearing up backstage, apologising for being an inconsistent absent parent, and i can't lie the "i had daddy issues and THEN i subscribed to dan howell" got me cause yeah no literally dude, you nailed it, exactly, well done. i think something about doing this show again, his magnum opus as he considers it, now after the dapg return was very special to him. he seems genuinely surprised that so many of us were ready to just jump back in like nothing happened, i don't think he was expecting so many people to still be waiting and it's... man. he comes off so grateful for us all and it's so fucking sweet. and then on the last night, i think that was my favourite, when the show ended and he got the standing ovation and people throwing him flowers.. he was so HAPPY. and clearly overwhelmed with emotion which, i gotta say, there is something honestly kinda funny about daniel howell standing in front of you trying not to cry. like no by all means dude go ahead, please, you've made me cry an endless amount of times it's only fair.

ugh. i'm proud of him or whatever. dick. and i'm proud of our ridiculous fucking community. i'm not sure what 14 year old nora would say if you'd told me i'd still be kicking it in the phandom a decade on, but at almost 25 (fml) i'm so so happy to be here still. you know, we get a bad rep, but i genuinely think as far as fanbases go we're pretty solid. and i love you all so much.

i believe i will have to rob a bank or something because the next time dan and/or phil do a tour i think i'll have to just show up at every date like i'm sorry but this was too good of a high we need to do it again immediately

anyway. back to work 💪

(by which i mean giffing dan and phil. i am still very much unemployed. fr though i'm two whole videos behind this has never happened i feel weird. who am i)

[loki-cees-all]

Ch. 4 - Hope Against Hope {Against All Odds - TVA!Loki x Female Reader Longfic}

Previous Chapter / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : After you and Loki do the deed, Loki does a little soul-searching.

W/c : 4.7k words

Content / Warnings : Smut (p-in-v), angst (knife-in-heart), mentions of a future addiction for the reader (nothing specific is mentioned, and no actual use of illicit substances ever takes place), and Loki rifling through all of your stuff. It's fine, though! He has a good reason!

Author's Note : Apologies this is so late! It really, really got away from me, and I was absolutely struggling to get it done. But, it turns out I was just trying to do too much in one chapter, so once I cut it off at what was the halfway point, it became much more manageable. (Major shoutout to @infinitystoner for helping me with that. I love you!) Anyway, happy reading!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Date : June 26th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]

Throughout his thousand years of existence, Loki had witnessed a great deal of beautiful things. The golden shine of the palace he’d grown up in was the first; its light reflected brighter than the birth of a newborn star, shining down with a brilliance unrivaled to anything short of divine intervention. 

Every morning, he’d awake in awe of its splendor, and every night, when he laid his head upon his pillow, he’d wonder if anyone else ever noticed the terrible irony of such a gorgeous place containing the harshest of people. 

The exquisite gardens of Asgard had always been his favorite place to be. Carefully tended to and guided by his mother’s loving hand, they contained every species of flower from each of the Nine Realms - meticulously organized by the shade of their petals, and perpetually in bloom thanks to her seidr. 

It was the perfect place for reflection; he had spent many late nights in those gardens, wandering up and down the rows, taking in the sweet aroma of the flowers and pondering his lot in life. And during the worst of Thanos’ many tortures, he’d often imagine he was back there inside Frigga’s gardens - shielded and protected, and lost in majesty instead of in pain. 

And the stunning destruction of the Bifrost would haunt him for the rest of his days. The explosion’s light caught the shards of the Rainbow Bridge and almost blinded him, illuminating nothing but his many failures in the most glorious of ways as he fell into its wake. The Bifrost had faded into golden dust, and clouds of sapphire and ultramarine had swirled together beneath him, and it was so magnificent that he almost forgot about the look of sheer disappointment upon his father’s face. 

But none of those things, not a single one of them, could ever compare to the sight of you coming undone beneath his devoted tongue. 

Loki continued working, his mouth and eyes eagerly taking in the evidence of your pleasure. His hands gripped your waist tight, as if to squeeze out every ounce of it that he could, while his lips and tongue lavished your clit. He’d never tasted something so divine, and he never wanted your pleasure to end. 

You cried out his name like the holiest of prayers, and Loki moaned its accompaniment. He could almost see the light radiating off your skin as your back arched off the bed, and the blood in his veins surged with want as your thighs trembled against his ears. He desperately needed more, to keep you sated and satisfied in euphoria for as long as he could - but he also needed to be careful. 

Because as far as you knew, Loki was just another simple mortal - one that had a job, and a family, and paid taxes. A human man, one that played rugby on the weekends, someone who was going to die in about forty years - when he was actually the furthest from anything that even resembledbanality. 

Ordinarily, in situations like this, Loki’s seidr would be on full display - to set the mood by lighting the fire in the hearth and the candles on the nightstand. To keep the wine flowing in their glasses, and the sheets warm against your bare skin. To remove his clothing in a flash of green light, just so he could bury himself inside you the exact second he wanted to. 

And Gods, how he helplessly wanted to be inside you again. 

Loki hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since the night in the alleyway. It had been feral and hurried, dangerous and reckless, to take you against that wall and in public, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t the best he’d ever had. And it was so foolish of himself to think he could get by with only having you once, and so incredibly selfish to take you again while knowing what he knew about your future…

But even still, Loki’s cock ached underneath his trousers, throbbing in sync with every single beat of his heart. Desire coursed violently throughout his veins, mixing with both heat and adrenaline as he continued ravishing between your legs. He could feel you clenching rhythmically, your fingers tangling in his hair and your hips grinding upwards, and he could never deny you what you wanted. 

You were just past the height of ecstasy when Loki began to crawl up your body, following behind his lips as they worshiped your skin. He kissed his way up your belly, gazing up at your ethereal expression as your head lolled back and forth on the pillow. Aftershocks washed over you, one by one, and your lips parted with desperate breath and pleasured murmurs. It was beautiful, and perfect, and of nothing but sheer divinity. 

Loki kept his gaze locked on your face as he slowly kissed along your ribs, and your feet flexed, pressing into his hips as yours continued writhing. Your fingers curled tighter around his hair, a silent plea to urge him on, and he couldn’t believe that even after all of this, even while completely lost in the throes of ecstasy, you still wanted more of him. 

His initial plan had been to take you as slowly as possible - to savor, and to idolize you. He’d never been wanted like this before, and he didn’t know if this would be the last time he’d get to experience it. A lifetime of neglect had taught him affection was ever fleeting, and he should always relish it whenever it came. What little patience he had was quickly disappearing by the second, soon to be nothing but a distant memory of the time before he was whole again. 

Your eyes stayed closed as his name tumbled from your lips, and Loki knew this was the moment. He kept one hand clutched tight around your hip, and brought the other down to his belt, unbuckling it just enough to make a sound before his seidr dissolved the remaining clothing from his body and transported them to the floor, as if they’d been tossed aside in a hurry. 

He moved upwards again, and when he reached your nipple and pulled it into his mouth, you whimpered in pleasure and dragged your nails across his scalp. A deep groan rumbled in his throat and he began to suck harder, flicking his tongue wildly against the stiffening peak. This time you let out a sharp gasp, and your feet planted on the mattress to arch your back even more and press your hips against something, anything, of his. 

Loki graciously slid his thigh up to soothe the ache between your quivering legs, and you eagerly locked on to it, grinding your swollen clit against his taut muscles. You had been more than wet when he had gone down on you before, but now you were positively drenched with arousal, and Loki loved that about you. He’d never been so hard in his life, precum dripping onto your belly from the head of his glistening cock as the musk of sex filled the room. 

Your head tilted back into the pillow and your thighs trembled violently, supported only by your tiptoes and your upper back as another orgasm ripped through you. Loki cupped your other breast, his thumb circling its nipple as he sucked even harder on the first, trying desperately to hold back his own ecstasy until he was buried deep inside you. 

But that battle was becoming more and more difficult to win, and his equanimity was dissipating with each and every one of your breathless moans and whimpers. Loki moved his hands to carefully guide your feet flat, and then massaged your calves and thighs into relaxing as he carefully pulled his lips away from your nipple. 

As he moved closer, your hands shifted to cling to his neck, his shoulders, his arms. Anything you could read, everything about him that was solid and real. He wanted so badly to assure you that he was, to shout it from the rooftops that he wasn’t just real, that he was - in fact - yours, and that was the only real thing that mattered. 

Loki’s lips were on your collarbone when he finally coaxed your legs into position, relaxed but open for him. You were making unintelligible noises and your body continued trembling, but your hips kept rolling as he slowly settled his weight onto you and pressed his hips against yours. 

“Loki…oh my, God, Loki…” you gasped breathlessly, sliding your hands up along his neck to his hair, to tangle in the mess of matted and sweaty curls against his scalp. 

His breath shuddered as he gazed upon you, eyelids fluttering open and shut, and pupils dilated so wide to take him all in. His lips hovered just a touch above yours, inhaling as you exhaled, leaning in as you pulled him closer. He wasn’t running or cowering away, there was no fleeing or escaping. For the first time since the Tesseract had slid to his feet in the lobby of Stark Tower, Loki was exactly where he wanted to be. 

“Yes, my darling…I’m here, just breathe…” he whispered, dragging his nose along the edge of yours. His voice shifted into a groan as you wrapped your legs around his waist; the soft skin of your thighs burned against him, branding a reminder into his flesh that this was where he belonged, and the soaked heat between your legs beckoned him back home. 

The two of you were as naked as the day you were born - one born on Earth, and one born on Jotunheim. Dark green and satin sheets lay beneath you, twisted and tangled upon your bed. The air inside your room was almost overwhelming, a delicious mixture of heat and musk, and despite the very early morning hour, the city of London still bustled just outside your window, cruelly unaware of the magic that was about to happen above them. 

Your lips met again, and even though the kiss was just as hungry as that night in the alleyway, there was something else now with it - a touch of familiarity, of knowing and acceptance even though it couldn’t really be - not with all the lies he’d been telling, and the truth he’d been withholding. Loki kissed you harder, trying to push those thoughts out of his brain, and you happily reciprocated. 

As you introduced your tongue to the kiss, Loki cupped the back of your skull with one hand, and brought the other between your hips as he began to rock against you, dragging himself against your entrance and teasing you both into oblivion. Neither of you needed any further teasing, but he did it anyway, just to add the final touch of urgency. You whimpered and opened your hips even further, and on the next push, he was inside you again. 

Suddenly, everything made perfect sense as the entire universe opened up before him. Loki let out the hoarsest of groans as he pushed deeper, and your lower back arched even more beneath him. Your fingers curled even tighter around his hair, your lips fell from his to moan his name again, and you were so wet and warm and safe that he felt like nothing could ever hurt him again. 

All he ever wanted was to feel like this, and he slowly pulled himself out, just short of all the way, before sinking himself back inside. Your hips writhed uncontrollably as he did that a few more times, and Loki realized that you also needed the reminder that even if he pulled away or left completely, he would always come back to you. That he would never not be thinking of you, or of this. 

Loki was already ruined before he began thrusting even faster, and there was absolutely nothing that could have ever stopped him. He buried his face against your neck and arched his back more harshly, pulling all the way out before pumping back inside. Your muscles squeezed around him, and your voice was nothing but breathless and incoherent gasps and moans as you took him in over and over again. 

He snaked one arm around your back and the other around your waist as he moved faster, grunting and groaning against your skin as your fingertips scratched at his scalp. His muscles tensed as yours did, and he could tell by the sound of your voice that you were getting close already. His own orgasm was just seconds away, coiling around in his belly, stretching and yearning to break free as he drove himself harder, faster, deeper. 

The tension broke simultaneously, and you cried out together, curling tightly around each other’s bodies, clinging for dear life as you came together. Endorphins and hormones coursed through Loki’s veins as the universe came into being, with stars exploding and dust swirling to form the galaxies and planets and realms that could stretch longer and further than anyone would ever know. 

You clung so tightly to him during it all, as if you could see what he saw, but somehow he was the only thing that mattered. How could that be, that while an entire universe was being born, that the goddess of a mortal underneath could only look up at him? 

Loki didn’t understand it one bit, but he didn’t need to, because all he could feel and see and smell was you. His hips continued rocking, shallower now that he was absolutely spent, and his sighs were heavy in the crook of your neck. He was in total and complete bliss when you let out a choked sob against his ear, and it instantly brought him back to reality. 

“Darling…darling, what’s wrong?” he murmured, kissing your neck and squeezing you tighter. Had he done something wrong? Had he unintentionally hurt you in some way while lost in his own pleasure? 

He could feel you shake your head, even as another sob escaped you. He could feel the tears streaming down your face and coating his own cheek, but your limbs still wrapped harder around him. Slowly, Loki lifted his head even though he was terrified of what he might see upon your face. His heavy eyelids fluttered open, his blurred vision effortlessly obscuring the tangled limbs and sweaty skin you both shared. 

But when your face finally came into view, there was a smile beneath the tears on your cheeks. Your messy hair framed your face like an untidy halo - disconnected from, but still beautiful and fitting for the angel who wore it. Loki would never forget that smile and its tears, so happy and yet so sad all at the same time. 

“I don’t know why, Loki…but I’ll be fine, I promise…” you answered in a voice that was so floating and breathless and light.

He could tell you meant it, and it should have reassured him, but it didn’t. The image of that newspaper from 1983 suddenly flashed before his eyes, and Loki remembered the initial reason he had come home with you last night. 

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Date : June 27th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]

Loki wasn’t exactly sure what he was searching for, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying. 

The sun was just beginning to encroach over the horizon, sending its rays over the city and into the bay windows of your high-rise flat. He padded cautiously into your living room, thankful for the plush white carpets between his toes to mute his exhausted steps. 

There was nothing he wanted more than to slip back into bed with you and sleep the day away, but he had to take this opportunity while he still had the chance. 

Loki could still see you, sleeping soundly in the arms of the duplicate he’d casted so as to not rouse any suspicion while he snooped. It felt so wrong to be doing this now, so soon after the night you’d just shared together, but the guilt of your future was driving him forward, egging him on and eating him away so badly he wouldn’t be able to have another decent rest even if he tried. 

And it was odd, feeling jealous of something he’d conjured to keep you distracted, and in bed. It was, technically-speaking, him…but it wasn’t him- and he was the one who desperately needed the rest. Loki hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since well before Thanos’ capture, since he had lived in the palace on Asgard, and he had no idea when he’d be able to have it again…

Nevertheless, Loki shook his head and rolled it back and forth between his shoulders. His joints popped and cracked as he stretched his arms up over head, extending and pulling and desperately willing his limbs to fully awaken for the task at hand. He opened his eyes wider to take in more light, and he filled his lungs with as much oxygen as he could muster, held it for as long as he could, and released it slowly through his nose. 

If anyone else could see him, they’d say he was stalling. Deception ordinarily came easy to him - Odin had taken advantage of that many times - but this was different; in fact, this was much, much worse. And he knew he wasn’t going to like what he found, but it needed to be seen anyway. He had to know if he was the cause of your future addiction, or if had already started before you’d even met. 

Loki began his search in the kitchen, opening up the cupboards and pantries, quietly sliding items aside so he could see any possible illicit substances hidden in the back. He checked on top of the refrigerator and deep inside the freezer for excessive quantities of alcohol. He even looked through the drawers of silverware and utensils, the mail on top of the counter, the pockets of your coats hung by the front door for something, anything, that hinted at your painful future. 

But he found nothing, just like he was afraid of. And it wasn’t because he wanted you to have an addiction, to be suffering silently and hiding your pain away from the world - he didn’t want that to happen to you at all, ever. But the more he searched, the more it became apparent that he would be the eventual cause of it. 

And if he did manage to find something, he could offer you the help you needed. He could take care of you, instead of hurting you. He could be of use for something good, instead of the destruction he normally was. 

From the kitchen, he returned to the living room, shoving his hands between the couch cushions and underneath the sofas. He flipped through the magazines stacked on the coffee table, and pulled the books off the bookshelves. All the while, trying so hard not to think about how he was going to eventually make addiction a reality for you. 

Loki could tell you were eager to learn more about him, to know him more than just as a man who kept you company at night, and it was getting harder to dodge your questions. He knew you would have more when you awoke, and it wasn’t that you didn’t deserve to hear the answers, because of course you did. You deserved everything happy and safe and beautiful there could ever be, and Loki truly wanted to be the one to give all of that to you. 

But Loki didn’t know what to tell you, because that had never been the truth of his reality. So what was he supposed to tell you? That he was the monster that parents told their children about at night? 

That he’s an alien being from another realm, who could travel through time and space? That there were different versions of every single person living within multiple universes, and that in 35 years his past self would try to lead an alien army to violently take over New York City? 

At best, you wouldn’t believe him at all, and at worse, you’d absolutely hate him for it…even if doing that is exactly what brought him to you in the first place. 

After the last book was slid back into place, Loki sighed and turned his attention to the living room as a whole. Everything was clean and organized, everything had a specific place to be and was already there, and absolutely nothing was amiss. Nothing and everything was wrong, all at the same time, and the realization almost brought him to his knees. 

Loki was going to ruin your life eventually; the only question now was how he was going to do it, and when he was going to hammer that final nail inside your coffin. Was it going to be as soon as you woke up? Was it going to be because he finally told you the truth? 

His fingers pressed into his eye sockets as he collapsed onto the sofa, rubbing away furiously as he pondered his options. Truthfully speaking, how much time did you two have left together? The Loom was still on the verge of total destruction back at the TVA; his friends were back there right now, working tirelessly on a solution while he selfishly snuck away to see you again. To coddle his own emotions and guilt, when none of that would matter if they were unable to save the timelines at all. 

And what was he supposed to do if they managed to prevent the Loom’s destruction? Keep sneaking away to come see you like a long-distance lover? Make up a pretend job for himself, never tell you the truth, and force you to perpetually linger in the liminal space between his crafted persona and who he actually was? 

Not even he could keep a lie that massive forever. You would eventually discover the truth, or perhaps you would realize that there even was a truth different from the one he was selling you. Maybe what the truth was actually didn’t matter; maybe what mattered was that you couldn’t keep living a lie, and that was all it took to break you. 

Loki leaned forward on the sofa, his elbows digging into his knees while dragging his fingertips down his cheeks and over his mouth. His palms pressed together in a silent prayer as his eyes roamed over the room. His eyes filled with tears as he realized this would have to be the last time he ever looked upon it. He would have to leave you, before either of you fell too hard - and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to save you more than it would destroy him. 

His expression was solemn as he stood back up from the sofa. He hoped he’d been overthinking your expression in the alleyway a week ago, in the club the night before, in your bed as you’d come together. His heart broke as he prayed that you didn’t actually care about him as much as he already cared about you, that this would actually be easy for you. That you still had the strength to pick up the pieces and carry on with your life. 

As Loki turned to leave the living room, to start the long journey back to your bedroom and kiss you goodbye, his eyes caught the painting above your dining room table. His frown shifted into a smile, although his eyes were as distraught and disillusioned as ever. He stepped closer and pressed his fingertips across the frame, thinking about all the stories this single painting told. 

You were so unbelievably talented; every brush stroke had been as carefully placed as the belongings inside your flat. How he wished he could see this tree that you loved so much, and how he longed to feel the same kind of permanent comfort that it seemed to bring you even now. He’d never felt such everlasting solace in his entire life, and he’d even happily settle for being able to provide that kind of love for you some day. 

But it just wasn’t meant to be. And for now, all Loki could hope for was that your father or your friends could help you still move on. 

He reluctantly pulled away and returned down the hallway, training his eyes straight ahead to avoid the beautiful and happy photographs plastered all over the walls. He tried desperately not to look at the candelabrum on the narrow bookshelf. But of course, the morning light caught it, reflecting off the polished brass and right into his anguished gaze. 

Loki couldn’t help but pause in front of it, right outside the doorway to your bedroom. He could hear you breathing in your bed, slowly and peacefully, in the arms of his duplicate. You were so close, and yet so far, because he couldn’t tear himself away from the hall and its haunted reminder of his past life. 

He’d seen that candelabrum before, but he didn’t know how it had found its way here. Surely, it had to be a coincidence, right? That the asymmetrically curved pieces swung upright to form the horns of the golden headpiece he used to wear before the TVA had taken him away? 

Devil’s horns, the enemies of Asgard used to call them. The Dökkláfar of Alfheim had considered them omens of death, but it wasn’t in the same way they had feared Odin’s power, or his brother’s hammer. Those items could always be seen before striking down their enemies; their power was out in the open, demanding to be witnessed, and punishing for their disobedience to the throne. 

But by the time an enemy ever saw Loki’s horns, it was already too late. The damage was already done, secretly in the shadows and hidden upon layers and layers of deceptions and lies. His enemies were already dead by the time Loki finally revealed himself and his Devil’s horns, and their last few seconds were usually spent wondering which trick it was that struck the final blow. 

So what were they doing here, in this young woman’s flat? In London, in 1977, where he’d never been before and surely would never return to again? Surely there was no way you knew what they actually represented. No, it had to just be an unhappy coincidence. 

Back on Asgard, Loki had been repeatedly regulated to operating within the shadows. In his younger years, he had believed it was simply because that was where he excelled. But then he knew better; he knew that Odin had kept him in the shadows intentionally, that he was fit to exist in the light. And now, he was being forced to recede into the shadows yet again, to be nothing but a hopefully wistful and fond memory of yours. 

He had only just found you. He had only just come to know the caring touch of peace, and already he was having to give it back up. 

Another tear rolled down Loki’s cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. He let out a sharp breath, steeled his jaw, and stepped back inside your bedroom, not at all ready to do the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. 

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Previous Chapter / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚

[holyhead-hufflepuff]

oh, to be in love

LOVE INTEREST X READER

“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.” ― Alfred Tennyson

notes: the way that I teared up reading love quotes to pick for this lol. anyway shoutout to anyone who can make you feel this way bc they deserve it

"I love you." The words rang in your ears and settled in the warmest, softest part of your body and soul. It was the feeling of riding rollercoasters and having your body anticipate the first drop but still be shocked by the thrill of it happening. It's only three words. The phrase had been spoken to you — around you— for 20 years, but hearing it with your body pressed against theirs meant something more. You'd read a million romances and watched thousands of hopeless pairings find their way to each other. You'd closed your eyes a hundred times and imagined a future with the 'perfect' someone. All of it was sweet and romantic, but this was better. 

You'd fallen for others in the past, taken part in one-sided sob stories more times than you'd like to admit, and ached for love. You've run to catch falling stars and been willing to touch the sun's core for people other than them. That was infatuation, but this was love. 

The feeling of being in love with them is unexplainable in words. It's closing your eyes when songs that remind you of them comes on, and then, you play a film of memories of them. It's watching a movie a hundred times before but getting excited for the big reveal because they've never gotten to experience it. It's the shivers you get when you step out of a warm house on a cold, dewy morning. Being in love with them is living the same way you have for 20 years, but now you cry at love songs because you relate to them. An anthology of experiences was the closest you could get; even then, something wasn't there. 

Up close and in the warmth of home, the two of you are mundane and far from sappy rom-com couples and their grand gestures. It's being too lazy to make yourself food, so they make it for you. Your relationship is knowing they need time to themselves and giving them space, even though it makes you pout a little. It's 'have fun at work, honey' kisses, saving the last spoonful of ice cream, stealing glances at them when driving, and nagging them playfully. The best part is when you are against them, and when you look up to stare at them lovingly, they're already staring down at you. 

Being in love with them was being in love with your best friend. 

[mostlymilkwood]

We're halfway through 2024! I know this has been a big Yuri year for you. What are some of your favorites you've read this year?

I will make every year a Big Yuri Year going forward!! but you're right, I've been making my way through my backlog and checking out new stuff as it hits but here are a few!

Monthly in the Garden with My Landlord We are forgiving Kitano Miyako for the crime of being a landlord because the series she's in is very sweet and gay and I like it a lot!! I'm not actually one who's into low conflict manga but there's just enough bite every now and then in Monthly, be it through Miyako's past in the idol industry or Asako's past breakups, that I think it strikes a great balance. I was also thinking the other day about how the main trope of this is kind of… There Was Only One Bed House lol. Anyway, it also nice to have the story keep going after the build up of the main couple getting together, I'm going to miss it so much once it finishes in the coming months :((( Fav panel:

Sukeban and Transfer Student Stella art that's made to mimics an 80s manga style to reinforce the time period it's set in? Sooo Good!! I love comics as an art form!! I love seeing them doing shit like this that only comics can do!!! I wish this was licensed so badly!! Anyway it's got a fun setup of two high school losers being losers in very different directions, which is always fun. I hope I get to read more of it soon! Fav panel:

False Marigold If I had a nickel for every yuri manga I'd read where the dual protagonist was a blind girl called Lily, I'd have two nickels! This has a lot of interesting elements at play, you've got the time period being the 1910s (ish??), you've got Lily's blindness, her love for Hana's brother and the fact that she doesn't know he's dead, and finally you've got Hana's failed attempt to kill Lily and her now pretending to be said dead older brother for Lily. So Like, It's A Lot!! A great mix of bitter sweet feelings from a lot of characters, I can't wait to see how it all plays out in the end. Fav panel:

How Do We Relationship? Ha ha haaaaaah. God. I'm late to the game on this series, it's already 12 volumes in and I kept seeing people who don't normally talk about manga, or yuri, or yuri manga say it's a really good and devastating read, so I was curious! THEY WERE CORRECT ON ALL FRONTS. Hat's off to the author for the total rug pull after volume 4 where you learn this is not a "story about what happens after you start dating someone" but is actually "a story about what happens after you breakup with someone"!!! God!!! But honestly, I can't say I've read anything quite like How Do We Relationship, it's rough sometimes but super compelling, it captures the college adolescent really well! I'm almost nostalgic for all the drama of my college days haha. Fav Panel That Is Driving Me Insane:

OKAY BUT LIKE, WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT YURIA IS JUST DRAWN AS AN ELF???? HER HAIR NORMALLY COVERS HER EARS SO YOU DON'T SEE THEM TILL THEIR FIRST TIME NAKED TOGETHER AND IM JUST MEANT TO NOT THINK ABOUT THE FACT THAT SHE'S AN ELF?? WITH POINTY EARS AND TEETH??? IT'S NEVER MENTIONED BY ANYONE!! THIS ISN'T A FANTASY SERIES WHY DOES SHE LOOK LIKE THAT???

Shoutouts: I Want to Make Black-Knight Fall In Love With Me! and The Helpless Saint and the Powerless Princess, they're recently started in Yuri Hime and I've been enjoying the first couple of chapters that are out so far, looking forward to seeing where they go this year!

[tohjwcc]

Who am I? INTRODUCTION

Alright, so I've been here for like..half a year now? I actually don't entirely know, but ish 6 months. But I feel like I want to introduce myself. Idk why.

- So. Hi. I'm tohjwcc.. I honestly wanna change it, but I'm scared people won't recognize me if I do haha. So, I guess I'm stuck with it for a lil while longer. Guess I'm just a "normal" (heck I'm not, I'm weird as f-) 15 yr old girl...ehm, well, going to highschool after summer. Yasammy/cc/ct nerd, basically.

- My personality is complicated. For any camp cretaceous fan, I can easily describe myself as a softer version of Yaz. I have a strong Yaz side, but another big piece of my personality is just quirky and weird and funny (people say I'm funny.. so I hope they're telling the truth lol). But also, I've been told... SO. MANY. TIMES.... That I'm too nice for my own good. I'm kind and nice to everyone. I can't be mean to anyone. At least not on purpose. That is one thing that separates me and Yaz from being completely identical (personalitywise) (which again isn't entirely true, my quirky and weird side is bigger than my serious/Yaz side. I'm basically the yasammy icon. That quirky side could be referred to as Sammy lol.) But ofc there are other small stuff that also separates us two a little but yeah. (Tbh idk... I haven't really figured myself out yet. Idk what I am like, I just wanna be like Yaz cuz I love her so deeply and I can really relate to her in so many different ways. Idk, maybe I'm just not like her at all. Maybe I just wanna be like her...? Ugh, I don't know, I don't know myself. Dang it. My dream is to be cool. Like my girl Yaz. Okay, enough rambling).

- English is sadly not my first/native language, so any bad grammar or wrong wording could appear, so I apologize for that. I also like to make up new words, so if there's a word you've never heard before, it's probably one of my new creations. Confusion can appear, you've been warned.

- On this blog.. is it a blog? I don't even know. Anyways, on this account thingy I mostly post about camp cretaceous/chaos theory. That is where my main interest is. That leads us to my next.. ugh, me and words. I don't even know what it's called I'm my language. Paragraph, maybe? Let's go with that. That leads us to my next paragraph.

- Favorite shows. I've got a LOT, but the ones that might appear on this account are probably just Jwct/jwcc and the owl house. There's a chance like stranger things and heartstopper could be joining us too. I know nothing. I could be posting/reblogging random crap as well, so nothing is for sure.

- I started watching camp cretaceous when season 3 had been released. I was in my "Jurassic world era", so I had been watching all the Jurassic world movies (ish), so I guess I just wanted to rewatch some of them again, and then I saw it. "Jurassic world camp cretaceous". I was like "OoO". I began to watch it, and fell in love with it RIGHT AWAY. Also, a funny fun fact, I started watching it when I was 12. And now I'm 15. This means I was as old as the youngest character when I started watching it, and I am NOW as old as the OLDEST characters are in the show. This show has been with me through all my teenage years so far. I'm so greatful for this show and these campers. They helped me through so much, and I could never thank them enough.

-The jwcc character i can relate most to is Yaz. 10000%. Like I said before, she is so me. My friend says I'm a Yaz, and she once said I even looked like Yaz, which is cool, but idk how cuz I'm not a brunette haha. But these are the bestest compliments I've ever gotten.

Shoutout to everyone who even bothers to read this lmao. I might add stuff to this later, who knows.

Have a great day ^^

[monsoon-of-art]

Donut Hole

Achilles Come Down

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles Jump now, You are absent of cause Or excuse.

So self-indulgent, And self-referential No audience could ever want you.

[An uncharacteristically warm night in the Pearl Settlement. Big shoutout to anonymous bestie for beta reading!] [ao3 link here!]

Ingo explaining his encounter with the wayward child currently in Calaba’s tent only gave Irida more questions.

It truly seemed as if Berry had just…appeared. He had no ties to any of the groups currently living in Hisui; and even though he used Pokeballs like the Galaxy Team in Jubilife, they hadn’t made any mention of a missing boy (putting aside his vehement hatred for them).

His clothes were clearly foreign. Ingo had mentioned his dialect was strange, and this was coming from Ingo of all people, the man who had to be taught the local language. ‘Berry’ was either a terrible fake name or just a terrible name, period. No one had any idea who this ‘Palmer’ fellow was, and if he really was Berry’s father, why hadn’t he stepped forward? And how did Ingo of all people know him?

Irida chewed on her bottom lip as all of these thoughts swirled in her head. Glaceon nudged at her, fruitlessly trying to grab her attention out from the whirlpool of her mind.

Ingo, awkwardly sitting opposite her, cleared his throat. “I told Gaeric as well. I admitted that the boy seems familiar to me…and he told me that the boy looks like you.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that.” she groaned. “I didn’t see it, anyways. Just because we both have lighter hair doesn’t mean we’re related.”

“I am simply relaying what he told me.” he said softly. He knew her well enough to tell she was stressed about this. He felt partially responsible, he was the one who dragged the boy here in the first place. 

Ingo wanted to place a hand on her shoulder, to comfort her, but he didn’t want to overstep. Instead, he began petting her glaceon. “I am certain once the boy has his wounds looked over, and has a decent meal, he may be more open to listening to us.”

“...Yes. Yes, you are correct.” Irida agreed, glancing at him. “He…he looked terrible, Ingo. Did you see him? Of course you did, you carried him here-”

“Which is why he’s with Calaba now.” Ingo risked placing a hand on her shoulder, sensing that she was starting to spiral. “He’s in the best place he could be right now. Besides, even if he does set off, he certainly won’t get far. His cab isn’t optimized for this weather.”

Irida took a breath, placing her hand on his. “You’re right. We just need to wait, I suppose. I still don’t know how I can talk to him without my obi, or my headdress-”

“We will cross those tracks when we get there.” Ingo reassured her. “Perhaps Calaba can explain. She first greeted me, and she was…” he hesitated. “...Maybe we should have someone else.”

She snorted at that, pushing his hand off playfully. “Oh, don’t let her hear you!”

“She is an excellent medic. Her bedside manners, though…”

“She is old.” Irida waved off his concerns. “You know how she is. Do you know when the boy will wake up?”

Ingo shook his head. “Sabi said not for some time…but that conversation itself was some time ago. It could be anyone’s guess.”

“And what will you do in the meantime?” she asked. “You seemed…shaken up by the encounter.”

“I will…retire, for now. To my station. But I will be here if you need me.” Ingo’s answers were short. Concise. His voice sounded like he was so, so far away. “...I need to think.”

“I understand.”

---

Calaba looked over the boy laying on her floor. “This is bad.” she pointed at the bandages around his leg, practically a solid mass of dried blood at this point. “Especially that. That is bad.”

“I put those on myself.” Palina muttered, mostly to herself. “They should have been changed several times over by now.”

“Bah, classic teenage foolhardiness.” Calaba grumbled, setting down her pack of herbs and beginning to rummage through it. Besides her, her bibarel chittered in agreement. “They believe themselves to be invincible. Start unwrapping it, so I can assess the damage.”

Palina squirmed at the thought. The wound was bad when she first wrapped it, there was no doubt it had gotten worse. And as she peeled the matted mass of blood-soaked wrappings away, Palina was right. His leg was a sickly canvas of reds, purples, and yellows. Swollen slightly, and warm to the touch.

“Sweet Almighty Sinnoh-” Palina covered her mouth with her hands, turning away. “It’s bad. It’s bad.”

“Not surprised.” Calaba said with stoicism only a well-practiced medical professional could muster. “I have some leeks, this should ease the swelling at least.”

She knelt beside him, grimacing slightly at the infected wound before cracking the leek in half. “Won’t fix everything, but it can only help.”

The boy shuddered as the leek juices touched his skin, the only sign of life since he had arrived. “That’s a good sign.” Calaba mentioned offhandedly, taking a fresh towel in order to rub the juices in more thoroughly.

“I’ll start wrapping his leg, you look over the rest of him. Check for bleeding, check for bruisings. Anything that looks off.”

Palina desperately wanted to say that she knew what she was doing, that she knew when someone looked injured, but she was much too wrapped in concern to be snarky. From the tears in his outfit she could see exposed skin, skin littered with cuts and scrapes and bruises.

“I’ll take off his coat-” she said, carefully looking for latches or buttons-

Berry moved. Subtly, enough for Palina to spot it from the corner of her eye. At first, she feared that he was waking up. What would he do when he saw her? Last they met, he ran off the moment she took her eyes off him.

But she saw the movement again, and she realized something.

Berry wasn’t moving. Something inside his coat was moving.

She jumped back as if he was concealing a live voltorb in his coat, scrambling on her hands to a safe distance. “T-There’s, there’s-”

“What? What?” Calaba quickly joined her, equally as startled, even if she hadn’t seen the same thing. “Spit it out!”

A muffled chirping filled the room as the thing inside Berry’s coat continued to squirm, looking for an exit. Bursting from his jacket like a parasite from a carcass, out popped a mothim’s face.

It blinked, blue antennae twitching as it took in the new surroundings.

Palina stammered, “I-Ingo said it was in its pokeball! H-He counted! All of them were accounted for!”

“Ingo must have counted wrong.” Calaba said, reaching for her broomstick. “It’s only a mothim, Palina. Get something to help me shoo it away.”

The mothim glared at the two, seemingly remembering Palina from before. It hissed at them, crawling out further from Berry's coat. Its wings were still soft and limp, folded at its sides.

Calaba raised the broom. “Alright, you need to leave. You’re not welcome in my tent.”

“P-Pest. Its name is Pest.” Palina said quietly.

Calaba turned, staring at her with a strange look. “He named them?”

Pest the Mothim continued to hiss, puffing up as it readied an attack. “Alright, it’s going to spit some string.” Calaba grumbled, raising the broom to block it. “I’ll start swatting, you grab it.”

The mothim huffed and puffed, a ring of light swirling around its thorax, before absorbing the light entirely. 

And it proceeded to start spitting fire.

“AH!” Calaba dropped the broom as the flames caught the dry wood. “What in Sinnoh’s Name?!-”

Pest unfurled its bright blue and yellow wings, furiously flapping in a clear threat display. With each furious hiss, embers flickered from its mandibles. Then, the moth began puffing back up, preparing another fiery blast.

“OUT! OUT!” Calaba demanded, pushing Palina and her bibarel away from the fire and to the cold outside.

“What about Berry-” Palina started to ask, squeaking as the mothim spat fire at them as they fled.

“Worry about us first!”

As they fled the tent, fire did what fire did best. Spread. The wooden support beams, furniture, flooring, and the piles of actual firewood made for excellent kindling. The canvas walls did nothing to stop the fire from spreading, if anything they only made it spread faster.

Pest stopped spitting fire, then, watching as the tent caught ablaze. It then turned to its unconscious trainer, frantically nudging at him and flapping its wings to keep the flames at bay.

---

Barry could see it. The light at the end of the tunnel. Each step closer lifted a weight from his shoulders. “We’re almost there…We’re almost there!”

He could feel himself start to walk just a bit faster. “Come on! Keep up with me! If you’re late, I’m fining you a million!”

He was running now, his feet echoing on the tiled floors. “Come on! Come on! Too slow! Too slow!” he laughed, feeling lighter than air. This felt…right. This felt right! They’d go back home, and they’d play tag. And he’d be faster, always be faster, but maybe he’d slow down for her to catch up.

The moment his shoe touched the tufts of grass growing just beyond the cave's influence, Barry spun around-

[____]'s foot hovered just above the grass. Frozen completely in place. 

The warm light of the outside hadn't reached her yet, shadowing by darkness. She slowly lowered her foot back down, back inside the confines of the cave.

She hadn't left yet.

She was still inside.

"...I'm sorry." Came her soft whisper.

Barry's smile died. "No."

From the darkness shot black claws. They wrapped around Her, stifling her screams before they could even leave her throat.

“NO!” he screamed, darting back, hand outstretched to grab her own.

But the Cofagrigus lid snapped shut, sealing her away. “I am so sorry, but the station is now closed.” the Cofagrigus said, voice echoing like an intercom. “Please make your way to the exits in an orderly manner-”

Pounding on the metallic body, he shouted, “NO! NO GIVE HER BACK! WE WERE SO CLOSE!”

“Please stand behind the yellow line! Please stand behind the yellow line!”

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!”

The cave walls flickered like a glitching gif, rapidly switching back and forth between the dark cave walls and the broken spires of Spear Pillar. A swirling vortex rumbled above, crackling with lightning and specks of light.

“I-I don’t want to be here.” Barry whimpered. “I-I don’t-” He turned back to the Cofagrigus. But the Cofagrigus was no longer there.

Replacing the Cofagrigus was an enormous, looming shadow. Beady red eyes, hot as coals, bore into him.

As the monster screamed, it felt as if nails were being driven into his ears and fire licked at his limbs.

Fire! Fire!

…fire?

Barry coughed as the smoke filled his nose. As he blinked away the red-eyed monster, his vision filled with the concerned face of a bug pokemon instead.

It felt as if he had stepped from one nightmare to another. His mind was foggy, his ears were ringing, and he couldn’t feel his extremities just yet.

The bug pokemon sitting on him was chirping - he could see its mandibles moving, but he couldn’t quite hear its frightened cries. It was as if Barry's head was full of cotton.

“Woag.” Barry slurred.

Finally, he acknowledged the bug currently tugging on his ears, trying to get his attention. It had a dark face and huge, blue eyes. “...Pest?” he asked.

Pest nodded frantically. But Barry’s confusion only grew. “Ah…aren’t mothims orange?” he asked. “Are you…sick?”

The fogginess of the mind was beginning to clear. “Wh. Where am I?” 

Glancing around, Barry realized two things; he did not recognize the house-thing he was in, and everything was currently on fire.

“Oh. Oh shit.”

Unbridled panic mingled with the dense fog in his mind, creating a toxic cocktail of confusion and terror. They needed to go. Now.

“My legs. I can’t feel my legs.” Barry wheezed, shooting to a sitting position, Pest crawling up to rest on his head. “Oh god they cut off my legs-” he looked down at his perfectly attached legs. “...OK they didn’t cut off my legs. That’s good. That’s good.”

As he stood, he haphazardly covered his mouth with his scarf and tucked Pest under his arm and out of the smoke cloud.

As he struggled to find the exit within the clouds of smoke and crackling flames, Barry tried to push past the mind fog to answer a simple question; how did he get here, exactly?

Last thing he could remember was being in the mountains with Fern, and then-

Subway Master Ingo. Of all the people, Subway Master Ingo appeared in his path. Looking like a captain that had died at sea, challenging him to a battle. The rest of the battle was a rage-filled blur…but Ingo had knocked the boy out and kidnapped him.

So, Subway Master Ingo was working with Team Galactic now. That was cool. Awesome. And he had kidnapped Barry and left him in a burning building to die. Double cool. Amazing, even.

Finally, Barry had managed to stumble into the door. He was surprised to be hit with a blast of cold wind, seeing a frozen-over town just outside the fiery home.

Mostly frozen.

From wherever the fire started (oblivious to how he was the root cause of it) it had spread to most of the homes by now. With the wind spreading the embers, the homes and buildings made of wood and canvas had absolutely no chance.

People and pokemon alike screamed as they fled the fires, some of them trying to extinguish the roaring blaze. All of them sported the pink circular symbol, but none of them seemed to care about Barry.

Was it egotistical to expect to be sprung upon the moment he opened the door? Or was it paranoia?

Barry wasn’t sure. But after looking around and determining that he wasn’t about to be jumped, he began to stumble into the snow.

Either the sleeping powder hadn’t completely worn off, or he had inhaled too much smoke, or maybe even a secret third thing, but Barry felt bad. His mind was fuzzy, his vision was blurry, he still couldn’t quite feel his fingers and toes, and his legs currently felt like bendy straws.

“Le…let’s get outta here.” he muttered. Despite being unconscious for…Arceus only knew, all Barry wanted to do was lay down and sleep.

He sure as Hell wasn’t going to sleep here, though. Picking a direction, Barry began to shamble like a corpse, not caring for the blazing fires nor the frightened people. All he knew was that he needed to leave before someone did notice him.

---

When Irida heard the terrified cries of “Fire”, she had hoped it had been a cruel joke.

But when she opened her doors, instead of being met with bored teenagers, she was greeted with half of the settlement ablaze.

Irida felt a little bit of herself wither away right then and there, as if she was a piece of paper in an oven.

Their settlement wasn’t built for fires. No, quite the opposite, they were built to protect from the cold and rains; insulated with thick canvas, cloth, fibers, wood. All of those a veritable buffet for a wayward blaze.

Off in the distance, she heard one of the older wood-burning stoves explode from the pressure.

But once the moment of sheer horror had passed, Irida set to work. 

She commanded her glaceon to try and dampen the blaze with its icy breath - carefully, of course - and demanded that Warden Ingo be roused from…wherever he had gone.

But she found  Ingo shortly after, having brought his kadabra and gliscor to aid in evacuation and douse the fires, if possible.

“I was in my tent, when I heard the screams!” he said, and Irida found herself thanking for his naturally loud voice, able to hear him clear as a bell over the crackles and hisses of nearby flames. “How did this happen?”

“Your guess is as good as mine-” she began to say, glancing around, her eyes noticing movement between the burning homes. Staggering through the snow, tripping over every snow bank, seemingly uncaring for the destruction surrounding it…

Without a word, Irida made her way over. Stepping over smoldering rubble, wincing from the residual heat stinging her exposed skin.

“Wait! Wait!” she called after the stumbling figure. It too traversed the destroyed settlement, a moth-pokemon tucked under its arm.

Irida knew who it was. But she still hoped that she was wrong.

She grabbed the boy’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks. His skin was near burning hot and slick with sweat, and Irida wasn’t sure if it was from the fires or fever.

Now, Irida had to admit, she had a certain visage of the strange child in her mind, the way Palina and Ingo described him. A crazed blonde-haired boy, wielding a knife and controlling equally rabid pokemon by his side-

But Irida was met with a boy barely older than Lian; thin, injured, sick, and covered in ash. Face lit by the fires, all she saw in his eyes was confusion and terror. Barry slowly looked down at the hand on his wrist, baffled as to why he stopped moving.

Then, he looked back to her. “Why…are you me?” he asked, voice hoarse and quiet.

Irida honestly didn't expect him to say that. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but certainly not…that. Ingo had mentioned it before, and Gaeric before him, the blonde boy bearing some minor resemblance to her.

It was nothing more than coincidental. Irida had no blood family. Not anymore.

The grip on his wrist tightened ever so slightly, fearful of him slipping away like sand between her fingers. “You can’t go.” Irida said. “Please. You can’t.”

“I have to.” 

With three words, Irida felt her blood run cold. Despite the clear confusion, he spoke with such conviction. That neither Time or Space would stop him. That this wouldn’t stop him.

Irida finally tore her gaze away upon hearing Ingo shout in surprise. Looming above him was a gardevoir? Or maybe a gallade? 

Ingo did not fear pokemon. He did not fear the Alpha Garchomp in the south, nor the powerful Alpha Mamoswine that lived in the wastes, nor did he even fear the Alpha Zoroark that stalked the night.

But the panic in the man’s face as the not-gardevoir-not-gallade was palpable. It had him by the collar, his pokemon equally terrified but waiting along the sidelines. With shaking hands, he reached into his coat to pull out Berry’s bag, offering it to the pokemon.

"FERN!" Berry began waving his free arm to get the Pokemon's attention. "I'm over here, buddy!" 

Slowly, the pokemon turned to face them. Irida could almost physically feel its rage, radiating off the creature in waves. It dropped Ingo to the floor like a bag of sootroots, his pokemon quickly snatching him away before ‘Fern’ changed its mind. Irida found herself frozen in place, even as the pokemon stalked closer and closer, crunching through the snow.

Berry finally pulled away from her, yanking his wrist from her grasp and mumbling, “Alright, gotta go now. I gotta find my friend.”

“Friend? Who?” Irida asked, finally tearing her gaze away from the mystery pokemon back to the child. 

“...I don’t even know anymore.”

With whatever ‘Fern’ was by his side, Berry half-heartedly waved goodbye to her. Irida responded with the same amount of puzzled enthusiasm.

And she watched the two leave the settlement, vanishing into the dark and snowy night. Part of her knew that she wouldn’t stop them.

No. She couldn’t stop them.

She blinked, the spell over her seemingly broken. Thrust back into the moment, she spun around to face the burning settlement behind her. Somewhere, another wood stove exploded. The distant screams and shouts of her people rang in her ears.

Pushing aside any previous thoughts she had about the boy, she began focusing on the task at hand. At the current moment, this was far more important than a wayward child.

Although the haunted look in his eyes refused to leave her mind.

---

[NO ONE EXPECTS PEST- and he's shiny! Surprise! I never mentioned it aloud but everytime I showed him off in a team update in the notes I would use a shiny Burmy sprite! At least one person guessed it, though!] [Also god, Barry. Barry :(] New Team Update:

[doctorho]

If you knew what the bluebirds sing (you would never sing along)

part 25

Royal!Viktor x gender neutral reader, 2.5k words

warnings: death mention (hypothetical/possible death mentioned, not graphic)

here we are!!! the last part!!!! buckle up!!!!

hiii guys <3 sorry for the internet silence, real life got me for a bit. but anyway, i'm back, and here's this thing that i've been working on for a while now. the last part of this royal au that i started writing on a whim and that's now. uhhh. some amount of words long. 50 thousand? i don't know. many more than i ever thought it would be.

anyways. i almost didn't even write this, because i don't really even consider myself a writer, but i had this idea and i got some encouragement from people (shoutout to @gaybybirth whose inbox was the first place i started writing thoughts about this down in) and here we are. i started writing this and people were nice about it and it became a whole thing. a whole little world. isn't that nice?

Viktor doesn’t sleep that night. 

He doesn’t even try to. 

His brain is way too busy for that; too restless. Too full of expectations. Too full of the future. 

Too full of hope. 

The night is still and dark and even the air seems to be motionless and waiting. The castle is quiet, save for the steady ticking of clocks and Rio’s quiet chirping, and the distant sounds of the heavy boots of the guards moving somewhere in the hallways. 

Instead of sleeping, Viktor reads – first to you and then to himself, even though none of the words really stick to his mind for long – and he thinks. Turning every possible scenario over in his head. 

And then, first thing in the morning, before sunrise, he sneaks out leaving you stirring in the bed, and he takes down the flag from the central flagpole in the North tower. 

There is no monarch in this building anymore. 

He folds the flag – throwing it down from the tower would have been dramatic, or burning it, maybe, but that seemed disrespectful to the people who spent hours weaving the thing. And a part of him wanted it to become a historical artifact of some sort. The last symbol of anything like this. 

So he folds it. And he brings it inside, and sets it down on the chair by his table. 

He’s not sure if anyone will notice. Or if they will care. It’s not the only flag in the building, not by far, it wasn’t even the only one on the North side. But it’s a symbolic gesture. 

“Are you ready for this?” You ask him quietly, sitting on the bed, eyeing him. 

He smiles, just faintly, barely there. “I have been ready for this for far too long.”

He stands up a little taller. 

You smile back at him, and get out of the bed, walking to him. Barefeet and with the haze of sleep still lingering in your peripherals, he seems sharp in comparison; already dressed, all pressed edges and clean-cut lines. Thick wool and smooth silk and colors you’d never seen anywhere but here. In the dim room, he looks stone-set, like the most solid thing there, and somehow fragile at the same time. 

“Well then,” You exhale, wrapping your arms around him, “Let’s go start something.”

You can hear the careful smile in his voice as he hums back an answer and wraps one arm around you. 

“Let’s go start something.” He agrees.

And so you do. Or, more accurately, he goes to start something and you go linger by the sidelines – he heads off to see the council members, armed with all the information he wasn’t supposed to have, and you head off to the servant’s quarters. Pretending not to know too much. Ready to prevent any stirring chaos. Trying to keep your restless heart settled while you wait.  

Waiting was the worst part. Not knowing what was going on. 

Judging by the way the guards were speed-walking around and speaking in not-so-hushed urgent whispers, you were pretty sure something had started. 

And it wasn’t slowing down.

So you try to calm your restless nerves, and you wait. You bake bread and you put aside all leftovers.

You hope for a calmer tomorrow.

News travel like field mice, around here; small and quick and everywhere, hidden from most eyes. First, it’s a morning like any other, with hazy sunlight and cold mist hanging low in the yard, bread rising and water warming up for the day. People slowly emerging from their beds, quiet and only half-here while they rub the sleep from their eyes.

And then something changes.

You don’t see it, not at first; but you hear it. In the way people talk, with their voices sharp and their steps quick as they move behind corners, in the rising tension of unanswered questions. In the dense silence hanging over everyone’s heads once the change in the air has spread to every corner of the castle and everyone is wondering the same thing;

What’s going on?

You do your best to focus on your work in the kitchen and try not to pay mind to the speculation, or take part in it. 

The first rumor you hear is the worst;

The King has died.

You know it’s not true, of course. But when you hear it whispered somewhere only half behind your back, it makes your heart freeze momentarily. It’s like a single hollow heartbeat, echoing somewhere in your suddenly too-small ribcage, when your whole body goes through the instantaneous shock of thinking something before you have time to realize it’s not right. 

It feels like almost missing a step on the stairs, time stopping just before you catch yourself.

He’s fine, you remind yourself silently as you forcibly relax your muscles and go back to organizing jars of jam. Let out a breath that’s a bit too slow to be natural. 

Some of the rumors aren’t as scary, but a few are equally as dramatic; What if there’s a long-lost competitor for the crown? What if he’s joining the Kingdom with some other one. The suitors are here, it might be possible. What if he’s just getting new flags commissioned. What if he’s ill. What if he’s in love.

What if he’s giving up the crown. 

What if he’s doing something.

When you hear that last one, you smile a little to yourself; What if he’s doing something. 

Well, you answer in your head silently, you’ll just have to see about that. 

You don’t really say anything to anyone. The only people you really talk to the whole morning are Caitlyn, who is half on guard by the kitchen and half hanging out in the back room, and Vi, who is wholly hanging out in the back room, eating the bruised apples that would have been thrown out otherwise. 

Neither of them really talks about the tension in the air, but they’re still both clearly ready to act if needed. 

The minutes crawl by, and after a few hours, you feel like someone has pulled all your nerves too tight. Like you’re waiting for something to happen so much that you start to jump even at the tiniest of sounds. Vi and Caitlyn both try to get you to feel better, with reassuring words and steady confidence, but you’re still tense.

The tension only starts to dissipate when things start to happen. Not just under the surface, above it. In plain sight. 

You only see a part of it – the regular proceedings being interrupted, an announcement being made, some of the guards running, a public hearing being organized – but from your viewpoint, that’s confirmation enough that the wheels were moving. It was public. 

He was starting something new. 

There isn’t a courtyard big enough in the castle for everyone to attend at once, especially not the help. You feel bad for your coworkers, who really don’t know what’s going on, but you know the news will find everyone eventually. They wouldn’t let something this big just become a rumor; no, they were telling everyone. Loudly. 

You know Viktor gave his original speech to other people – the court, his advisors, the suitors – but even the servants get a version of it eventually. By the time the announcements start being made, both Vi and Caitlyn disappear to help. You know Jayce is out there somewhere too, standing above the rest of the people and telling them what’s happening, holding an important-looking paper stamped with the King’s official seal. 

Really, the letters Viktor had handed out for them were there as props more than anything. Showing that this was official. Giving people something to focus on. Giving his friends something to hold when they face the crowds. 

Not that they would need it, but it’s considerate, at least. He doesn’t have anything himself, no important-looking papers, just nervous hands and a steady voice. 

You only catch glimpses of his speech, coming in after he’s already started and standing on the edges of the room, behind rows and rows of other servants. He still meets your eyes, which feels more intense than it should, at this point.

You only catch glimpses of his speech, but the message is clear; he’s abolishing the ruling by lineage. He’s taking down any old laws that no longer serve the good of the many. He’s weeding out the corruption, and he’s stripping privileges from every high up in the castle, including himself.

He pauses after this, the silence hanging heavy over the whole room. You could feel it; everyone waiting. Still in suspense and holding their breaths. 

The next ruler, he says, will earn their place by merit and by popular vote in a voluntary process. 

He looks over the room to drive home the point, and then adds;

Effective immediately. 

You only catch glimpses of his speech, but they’re pretty good glimpses. 

He watches over the people with his head held high, and the whole room collectively stirs. It’s the biggest news any of them had ever heard, probably; something entirely new. Something unknown. 

Rumors erupt again, of course they do, but Viktor continues on about how in the meantime, there will be a temporary council to take care of things. Explaining how things will change. How he promises that the people will not have their lives uprooted for this, only he will, and by now that’s more than welcome. 

He talks about how people will be able to leave their questions later, how there will now be food available for everyone who needs it, how he wants to soften the divide between the life in the castle and life in everywhere else. How he will slowly be stepping down from this inhumane act of a life he’d been performing, and hopefully building something that might some day resemble a real life. 

And then he smiles, and you almost cry at how relieved he looks.

The next time you see him alone, it feels like your whole life has shifted. Everything feels much more real, much more here, much more present, and sure, maybe that’s just all the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, but you feel like something has started to fall into place. Like something your ever-restless heart has finally settled.

It’s almost time for sunset, and you’re meeting in that old overgrown bench under the willow trees. The warmth of the day still lingers a bit, and stepping into the shadows of the leaves feels like an exhale. Like finally relaxing, finally being where you’re supposed to be, out of the eyes of everyone else.

Everything around you is quiet, and calm, and still. 

You get there before him. But when he arrives, the whole day and night of waiting is worth it. Worth all the worrying and the tension and the tangled nerves. 

He exhales a deep sigh, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away.

Everything around you is quiet, and calm, and still.

The last light of the day was starting to fade, and the hazy night was trickling in. As the sun sets deeper and deeper, it’s like some phantom weight is lifting off of your shoulders;

After carrying everyone's expectations and their endless eyes on you, on him, on this fragile new beginning just learning to walk – 

the night would be yours.

And after that, the future.

Neither of you knew what that would hold, and that was the part you were both looking forward to the most; 

It could be anything.

It could be better than you ever dreamed to hope for.

It would be yours. 

Everything around you is quiet, and calm, and still.

There is nothing hiding in the dark. 

There is no performance to uphold anymore. There is no stage; there is just  the world, and you’re allowed to breathe all of it in. 

"Can I ask you a question?" He says, voice barely above a whisper, as he walks to you with soft steps soundless on the grass.

"Of course." You whisper back, feeling like anything too loud might cause the moment to shatter clean in two somehow, into sharp glass-like shards that would be impossible to put back together. 

A part of you was still afraid that you would wake up and this whole bright new something might disappear. It didn’t feel entirely solid yet. Not quite. 

"Did this happen?" He asks, then, "Is this real?" He continues after a small pause, voice careful, and each quiet word echoes around in your heart. 

Did this happen.

Is this real. 

For a single heartbeat, time floats frozen around you. 

Everything around you is quiet, and calm, and still. 

The world has never felt so big. So open. So new. So full of possibilities.

"Yes," You answer back, "This is real."

And it was.

Epilogue

tags: @aggressa @obsessive-sapphic @shadow-pancake9 @agatemermaid @scorpio-echo @kalisbury @viktoryscreech @ivetoldamillionlies @twilightdollie @cassandras-musings @kaimerra @raiden88 @emma-the-duck17 @thefiasco-onyourblock @pinkrose1422

[haechannabelle]

hiii today is bad my hair is messy but we out here i guess. lots of very negative venting under the cut yayyy (it’s okay tho venting made me feel better)

i’m just frustrated because my stupid job where i have to stand on concrete floors for 7 hours a day has ruined my knees, i have the knees of like a fucking 60 year old and i’m not even 30, like i can’t exercise and i keep gaining weight from my medication and idk what to do about it

and i made an appointment to hopefully get a doctor’s note so i can sit at work but because i’m on medicaid my doctor was like yeah earliest i have is in three months and even then he’ll have to refer me to a specialist to get anything done about it

and my arm has also been bothering me since we moved in august, it’ll go away but then it comes back worse. so of course i’m worried about that too

and NOW my foot is all fucked up on TOP of that stuff and because they’re doing stupid construction on all the public transit i’m walking like an extra 3 miles some days which obviously isn’t helping anything…and i had to leave work today because i couldn’t stop crying because i feel like my body is failing me and i can’t afford to take time off of work and also fuck the healthcare “system” in this country, i just had to pay a $750 bill for dental work so who KNOWS how much it’ll cost if i need treatment for my knees OR arm OR foot OR all three of them

anyways i’m sad and in pain and im freaking out about how i’m gonna get it all fixed or IF i’m gonna get things fixed and how much i’ll have to pay if i do…. it’s just not a good situation and it’s only been building as i tried to ignore the problems and hope they would go away, so now i’m directing anger at myself for not taking care of myself

but whatever my partner will be home soon and he’s gonna drive me to the doctor tomorrow and i know he’ll have comforting things to say. i know it’ll all be okay i’m just upset and what is tumblr for if not long sad personal posts and also selfies riiiiight ???

in other news tomorrow is 4/20 and i WILL be ceremoniously ending my 3 week T-break and i cannot fucking wait. i read four (4!!!) books in that time which is 4x as many books as i had read in the previous 5 years so,, i’m doing good in other ways !!!

everything is gonna be okay, it’s just hard right now. shoutout to anyone who read this far i am virtually giving you a fresh baked cookie 🍪

[freshlybakedspiderbread]

How about a two-fer! Aya and Nitori.

I did Aya here but i'll also take the chance to throw in headcanon that she may have still have long ago-ingrained skills with a sword, but if she picked one up now, she's more likely to swing it like a club 🏌️‍♀️ Anyway as for Nitori...

General opinion/How much I care about them: our sworn friend, Nitori 😊 I distinctly remember there was a time where i was aware that Nitori was generally pretty popular but didnt care much for her myself? But thats far in the past because I definitely like her a lot now 😄 I'm happy she just gets to show up all the time, even if a lot of it is just brief cameos in the manga.

A ship I love: gonna play it safe by picking out Nitori/Marisa but it really is super cute how much common ground and shared curiosity/ambition they have with each other, and how maybe magic and engineering are basically the same interest. Nitori's more uptight than expected, so that leaves Marisa to be the one to bring more of the fun to whatever odd business or experiment they're doing.

(also bonus shoutout to nitori/momiji and anyone who wants to imagine the bubbling feelings that may rise from cozy shogi matches despite the various complications of their respective species/classes 🙂)

A non-romantic relationship that I love: it just occurred to me that i've never ever seen anybody do anything with Nitori and Kokoro's newfound partership from acof! i guess i understand since there were so many more interesting and exciting pairings going on in that game, but i thought their brief stint together, analysing and insulting everyone in their deadpan manner was fun.

But actually beside that, its not hard to believe that Nitori's pretty darn well-known across the whole of youkai mountain, and maybe just about every youkai and god has met her at least once? She's not known as Nitori, the Kappa of the Valley for nothing! So it makes me smile to think about her ongoing business relations and funny back-and-forths with the likes of Aya or Kanako.

My biggest headcanon about them: she is the inventor of the optical camoflage suit but the general opinion among anyone outside the kappa (and something the yamawaro especially like to poke fun at) is how inefficient it is compared to just dressing yourself in the colours of nature, and this annoys Nitori a lot...

An idea for a fanfiction I would like to write/read about them: she'll show up in some things i have planned for the far future... But for something about her specifically? I have to come up with one on the spot, hm.... I like to think she's more particular about that 'kappa are sworn friend of humans' thing than any other kappa (even if she usually just means doing business with them) so i'd like to see one of her attempts to be a helpful hero sort to them, even if she can't help but be awkward around humans.

Something that makes me think of them: sometimes when i manage to fix up my appliances or get them to work myself, i think 'wow i could be a kappa' 😐

[mityenka]

tagged by @womanroy to talk about five things i like thanks for the tag tara mwah<3

philosophy: i have a dialectical materialist understanding of reality but learning about philosophical concepts in general is incredibly fascinating to me. i really like reading works by existentialist philosophers, especially camus' essays had a great influence on my worldview. i also think determinism as a philosophical concept is very interesting even though i don't necessarily agree with it but i can't think about it for too long or i'll go insane. i recently started reading a work by deleuze about film theory which has been very interesting so far although it's a very complex analysis and definitely not an easy read.

romeo and juliet: the original star crossed lovers! a small town, an ancient rivalry, strangling your lover with the red string of fate tying you together, a gun adorned with a picture of the virgin mary, young leonardo dicaprio in hawaiian shirts, radiohead's exit music for a film, the tragedy was inevitable but the love was there, even if it didn't change anything, it still matters that the love was there

double espresso: has been saving my life the past couple of days shoutout to double espresso

elisabeth das musical: yeaghhh if you've checked my blog some time in the last week you've probably noticed this. sorray. elisabeth has a special place in my heart because it's my moms favorite musical and i've seen it with her live when i was a child. i've recently watched it again as a preparation for my trip to vienna + that's why i've been posting so much about it recently. being in vienna just makes the insanity worse... anyways if you love me watch die schatten werden länger 1992 on youtube. and vote for elisabeth in the poll i reblogged

hanging out with friends: ever since my graduation i've had lots of time to catch up with friends including some friends i haven't seen in ages because they live in a different state. i've also made some new friends that i hope i will stay in contact with when i move to a new place in september. also shoutout to my dear mutuals on here i love you very much, thank you for staying mutuals with me <3

tagging @caligulapdf, @youngestdaughtersyndrome, @rosehipmarmalade, @poemwithoutahero, @castratedvader, @tonighttonightliveindenver, @aurelien1944 and anyone else who sees this she wants to do this!

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

Yes Rosa is a thief for stealing a lot of stuff off your blog that was specifically meant for your blog but the recent sighting post would’ve made it to twitter anyway. I’ve seen plenty of people already post it without crediting you and no one is calling them out so I don’t see why anyone would specifically call her out for doing it. It’s a Facebook post. It’s not something that was specifically meant to only be posted on here. Seems kinda silly to get so worked up about it. If you’re going to call out Rosa for this post then please call out the others who have posted it without credit to you.

i'm not trying to be funny, but did you read the text associated with the screenshot i posted? i'm specifically calling out rosa because she has made dozens and dozens of posts calling me a rat in response to me making posts outlining her thievery, as if it were some kind of farce.. as if she has never visited my blog explicitly to steal commentary and content. this is not about me ''getting worked up'' about someone cross-posting a screenshot, one which i already credited an anon for alerting me to! it's about the utter ridiculousness of this woman so brazenly continuing to farm content from other peoples accounts and attacking them when approached about it.

outside of.. well, rosa, i try not to be a stickler for people innocently reposting things. reposting a screenshot is not the problem here, and i think anyone following this ''saga'' knows this. obviously i'm not here to gatekeep, i'm here to do the opposite in freely sharing things that some would like to keep amongst their circles. but i'm human. i hate watermarks - i don't like to use them and i never have. but you have to realize that it is very disheartening when you see people taking content you have compiled, created, edited, thought out to write, etc. and people just repost the stuff as their own, without ever indicating the very source from which they received that content.

an example of this is the amazon reviews. i was not the first person to find his amazon account - far from it. but i spent hours and hours across several days scouring the internet via obscure search engines and other whacky means to find ones that had not yet been publicly shared, to my knowledge. i did compilations and edited them together for easy viewing. people took those and reposted them all over twitter, tiktok etc. and never once linked back to my account, who did the work. i didn't say a peep about that, but would i have appreciated a shoutout? of course. again.. i'm not a bot. i'm a human. i have a life outside of this blog and i want to share things that make folks happy or entertained, which takes some time. every single time a person has reached out to me to share a lead, a new photo, etc. i have explicitly asked if they wanted public credit on my account when i posted it, as a courtesy and respect for those who contribute. i have never wanted to seem like someone who just slaps my name on something and calls it mine, and to a certain degree i would hope most would operate this same way. hopefully that is reasonable to you.