#dear god please use realistic settings

[aikoiya]

Writing Sins - The Importance of Establishing the Rules of Your Fanfic

Pardon me, ya'll, while I vent.

Because oh my gosh...

I just read a story a while ago... An admittedly well-written story for the most part... but the Fem!Reader in it was after another woman. Now, if that was the end of it, then whatever. She's gay, now let's move on. (Well, technically, she was bi. The whole point of the story was that she'd eventually get together with this one mafia bossman, but I digress.)

But it wasn't. The narrative was that she expected to have "plenty of cute little babies" with this woman &...

Already this was delusional, but to top it all off, the setting was in a place inspired by Victorian England & she was not only a rich girl, but the heiress & only child of her family.

This... entire situation... was patently impossible!

I asked how this was supposed to be possible & the reply I got was something along the lines of "anything's possible for lesbians 😃" & I was like "No, it's not! In fact, this specifically, is not possible for lesbians! The entire reason they are considered lesbians is because neither have the necessary equipment to make it possible! If they did, then they wouldn't be lesbians! Because lesbianism is a sexuality, which the entire point of sexuality is that they are based on a person's preference for a certain, specific biological sex!!"

I just... the thing is... if this were an A/B/O situation then at least then there'd be a logical & biological explanation because 1 of the women wouldn't actually be female (which, remember, is a sex, not a gender, meaning it's immutable & not subject to change), she'd be a hermaphrodite (which is a sex based on the myth of Salmacis & Hermaphroditus in which a male & female become fused into a single entity that possesses the reproductive organs of both sexes & doesn't occur naturally in humans; distinctly different from being intersex as intersexuality is a sexual mutation & even in such situations they are either sterile or only one of their reproductive organs actually work, thus making them not true hermaphrodites), which would've been a good enough explanation for me as to how this would work, but the impression I got was that these girls would just... wishful think these theoretical children into existence because, as it stood, both were biologically female, as neither were indicated to be transwomen or hermaphrodites, & thus neither had the literal gonads to do it... And there was no mention of getting a donor...

There wasn't even a suggestion that in this world there was some way to fertilize an egg using stem cells like they're trying to do IRL. Which, in & of itself deserves an entire rant all on its own, but that's not what we're talking about here, this is about writing! So, ONWARDS!!

So... No... Just no... If you're going to make this sort of assertion at least give a biologically sound explanation as to how.

Admittedly, this universe had magic, but at the same time, you can't just say "its magic" or "a wizard did it" without explaining how the wizard did it. Magic isn't a fix-it button that makes anything & everything possible with the wave of your hands! It's a narrative device that needs to have rules! Otherwise, there's no real conflict because the characters can just ✨️magic✨️ their problems away!

Yes, Star VS the Forces of Evil's magic was like that in a lot of ways, but that's because that was just how their magic system worked & the show establishes it as such, which means that you know going in what to expect: chaos. If you wanna go that way, then sure. Go ahead, but at least bring attention to the situation & give a bullshit excuse for the why & how.

That isn't even taking into account the fact that, realistically, a rich family in a world where the media isn't at the forefront of everyone's consciousness manipulating everyone. SPECIFICALLY, in a world that is inspired by VICTORIAN ENGLAND!! Would NEVER allow this without being ostracized & labled social pariahs & the daughter a degenerate or sexual deviant & the whole family lynched. (That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but I digress.)

Part of the entire themeing of Victorian England is that they were repressed & puritan & all about facades & false perfection, to the point where sex was more of a business transaction! That's part of why it's such a compelling thematic location. Because then you get to juxtapose it with a character or characters that break the mold & challenge societal norms. Otherwise, it isn't a very good inspiration!

Not only that, but this girl was the only fucking child of this wealthy family which would, realistically, put even more pressure on her to find a man to marry & have the children of!

The very idea that this family would actively support such a union in this veerrry specific situation, is just ludicrous. Which, in the story, they just... did... & in a way that made it seem as if the situation was perfectly normal & would not cause consequences. Namely, them having to eventually forfeit their fortune to some other part of the family, if not an entirely different family that they were unrelated to, when neither their daughter nor her wife produced an heir... (Which, if the parents had been painted as loving & accepting & supportive, then I would've been willing to believe as them being willing to accept those consequences for the sake of their daughter's happiness. But they weren't. They were your typical, rich, snobbish, emotionally constipated, socialite parents that stifle & control their spoiled, & equally emotionally constipated children for their own benefits.)

Hell, the author could've kept the whole "female lead living in oppressive society is bi & wants this other girl" thing if they'd have focused on the societal pressure to be straight & produce heirs & how difficult it was to be bisexual/lesbian in a place & time where such things were subject to cruelty. But they didn't. It was just normal & there were no consequences whatsoever to being like that. Which was, by far, the most unbelievable part of the situation.

These imbossibilities weren't even mentioned, let alone addressed, as if with the expectation that those reading would just be like, "I see no logical discrepancy here! This is a plausible situation that can absolutely happen in this specific setting!"

Listen, ya'll, I am willing to stretch my suspension of disbelief pretty far so long as you give even a half-hearted attempt at making the plot at least SEEM plausible. Hell, even a bullshit explanation that at least sounds like it could possibly work (but really couldn't if you think hard enough) would've gotten a pass.

And if the story just had one of these many logical fallacies, I might have been more willing to swallow the bullshit, but it wasn't.

It was all of them on top of each other & I just couldn't.

Look, write whatever you want, but if you're posting this stuff, expect to get criticism. That's just how the world works! And if you do post writing with plot points that are factually impossible based on common sense, without *clearly stated* alterations to the basic rules of life, then don't expect all of those reading to be on board!

Let me make this clear. This isn't a complaint based on discrimination. Well, okay, maybe discrimination... specifically against bad writing... I physically cannot read something that is badly written.

Like, don't get me wrong, I'm not expecting anyone to write anything worthy of a Pulitzer or whatever. I'm just asking for a reasonable explanation!

Good day!

Aikoiya's Writing Tips Masterlist

[stinkyme]

Hello! This is a rather sudden thought I had, so I decided to write it! :)

Part two , Part three

I hope you all like it and enjoy it! :)

CW/TW: SFW, gn!reader, reader is a medical professional, contains spoilers of the last episode, kinda AU (?) where Fyodor survives, "I had nowhere else to go" trope, reader & Fyodor have history, descriptions of anxiety, complicated romantic feelings (reader), manipulation (Fyodor), one-sided love, brief mentions of religious aspects, mentions of tending wounds and stitching, reader is kind & loves taking care of Fyodor, reader helps Fyodor take a shower & washes his hair, itty bitty fluff, reader admits their feelings & gets rejected, kinda angsty, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

** I know he basically exploded and realistically would be burnt into a crisp, but for the sake of the fic, let's pretend he isn't fully burnt 🥰 + I know the poison, but let's pretend he took care of it 🙄🙄

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)

Nowhere else to go || Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

It's been a cold night. Often, you would reminisce about the past to help you fall asleep given how much it would tire you out, but tonight was different. Tonight you were feeling restless for some reason. There was a wave of anxiety creeping out on you, a lingering feeling of anguish settling deeply inside your bones. You tried to find the root of it, however before you were able to do so, it appeared to knock on your front door.

You quickly got up, covering yourself with a robe made out of thick material to keep you warm. As you come to the door, the anxiety makes your legs go weak and you hesitate for a moment. Your heart is beating fast and you can feel the uneasy warmth spread under your skin.

"Who is it?" you whisper, unable to raise your voice. Your shaky hand becomes cold as you await for the answer.

"A messenger." a silky voice replies, setting your blood to run cold. Your eyes open wide as you feel like there is not enough air in the room, your breathing quick and short. You swallow as your hands become numb. Everything feels surreal.

"Why are you here?" you try to sound confident, but the past you were trying so hard to move on from; the past you would fantasize to change so often - was one layer of weak wooden doors away from you.

"Open the door and see for yourself." he replies, voice holding a certain mixture of superiority and sorrow just as you remember it.

Your eyes tear up from the intensity of your own thoughts and bodily sensations. You hesitate once more as you place your hand on the doorknob. One simple movement that will, quite literally, open the door you want to keep shut until you die. You never wanted to see him ever again. Especially after learning the truth about what he wanted to do and the fact he left you behind once already. More than once.  He left you behind every single time.

But, there were times where he recognized you. He would often praise the tenderness and goodness of your heart. Not only that, he would praise your intelligence and capability as well. Each time you would tend to him, take care of his wounds, participate in conversations with him while cleaning the blood off of his hands - he would whisper ever so softly and lovingly.

"You must be an angel sent by God, molded just for my needs." 

"He knew you would be the only capable one to take care of me."

"Dear, He is always smiling down on you."

"As long as you keep looking out for me, I will be the luckiest man alive."

"Your hands are a gift just like mine. That's why we understand each other more than anyone else could understand either of us."

Truthfully, you never understood him. You so painfully ached to be able to do so, but you never could. Your core was different. You didn't share the same beliefs as he did and you certainly didn't believe in ruining everything for some entity that may or may not bless you. 

Ironically, you did just that for Fyodor. He ate away every shed of light you had, turning you into a nothing but singular black hole filled with only a desire of making him satisfied. Making him safe. Making him recognize you. Making him love you.

You knew how fragile his body was. He was always so thin, his eyes always so tired, dark circles prominent and making his pale skin look even more sickish. It would take a long time for his wounds to heal, sometimes even with a few months apart from seeing each other, the old wounds would still be as crimson red as they were the first time you took care of them.

They would reopen easily, making it hard to heal. He had a weak constitution, his skin was always cold. When he would sleep it made you anxious to leave him alone, checking if his heart was still beating from time to time. It made you sick to your stomach just to think about it. 

And now, he is probably in the same state. Outside, freezing cold with countless wounds. You want to walk away. You want to tell him that this time he won't be able to rely on you. This time you will choose to move on and choose yourself over him. Because if you don't - your own wounds will reopen. It's not like they closed properly in the first place, but at least they are less painful. 

What if he got even thinner? What if this time he actually won't be able to pull through without your help? What if you leave him behind and he dies? What if this night changes everything? 

The heaviness of your own thoughts falls down on your hand, finally giving you enough strength to open the door.

"I had nowhere else to go." he says in a softer tone than his usual one. A loud gasp escapes your throat as you observe the man who stands in front of you. Your face is a mixture of disgust, horror and worry.

"What the hell happened to you?!" you ask loudly, your throat feeling dry as you keep watching him. He misses one arm, his clothes are soaked in blood, there are few burns on his neck and he looks more tired than he ever did.

"I take it you still have your medical supplies. Will you be able to take care of this?" he ignores your question, letting himself in. He passes by you, entering your living room.

"Ye-yeah." you nod quickly as you close the door, adrenaline pumping inside your body. 

"Take off your clothes, I will be back quickly." you order him as you go to the bathroom, grabbing your box for emergency cases. You wash your hands and put on surgical gloves. You are basically running to him, feeling as if your heart is going to explode. Fyodor is struggling to take off the prison uniform given the fact he is one arm short.

"Just let me." you say softly as you put the box on the table and open it, swiftly taking a sharp blade to cut his clothes open. You make a long cut in the middle, exposing the huge wound on his belly. As you slide the sleeve down, the uniform drops on his hips and he sits down. He grunts in pain and you give him a concerned look.

"I will take care of you, it will be okay." you try to reassure him, more so yourself as you take the hydrogen peroxide.

"You always do." he gives you a little smile and you return the softness with your own.

"This will burn, but try to push through it." you say more confidently as you start letting a quick stream of drops fall down on his tummy. Fyodor's body twitches as the hydrogen starts bubbling inside the wound.

"I think I will have to stitch it up, but it doesn't seem too bad. Whatever they stabbed you with missed your vitals." you reassure as you take an alcohol-free wipe and gently tap the wound, cleaning any remains of a hydrogen. You take a needle and a thin string, adjusting yourself to the best access to his wound.

"I take it you don't want any sedatives as always?" a light breathy chuckle follows up your question and Fyodor smiles down to you before he replies.

"Your memory serves you right." he shakes his head, dismissing any additional help to his state. You smile, but concern is evident on your face. You start stitching him up, focusing to make it as quick and painless as possible. He twitches from time to time, not looking at you once. Fyodor's gaze is fixated upwards and he seems to be caught in his own thoughts.

"Turn around now, I have to take care of an exit wound." you say through a whisper, as if you could startle him.

He sighs out and turns around, positioning himself perfectly for you. His back is so pale, bones of his spine piercing through thin skin. You bite down on your lip as you take the hydrogen, cleansing the wound. Fyodor lets out a softer grunt, already adjusted to the burning sensation. You tap the alcohol-free wipe all over the wound before you begin stitching it up.

"So, will you tell me what happened?" you break the silence while in the middle of the stitches.

"It's for the best if you don't know." Fyodor replies in a simple tone, almost flat and emotionless. 

There was always a wall between the two of you. As close as you would let him get to you, it always seemed like he would get further away. Keeping his distance. But, you thought he was protecting you, so your heart could be at ease. You deserve that from him. Especially today.

"Does it have something to do with a plan you mentioned to me years ago?" you ignore him as you get to finishing up the stitches.

"Yes." he replies, again, in a flat and emotionless manner.

"I see." you say in a colder tone as you check if the stitches are strong enough.

"You are done, I would recommend a shower for your burns as well as the wound of your torn arm. You know where the bathroom is." you continue coldly as that old, lingering pain slowly starts reopening your wounds. You feel disappointment, but more than anything you feel a thick layer of dread laying on your shoulders. Fyodor's state makes your heart break, but knowing this all could be prevented if only-

"Could you help me?" he stops your train of thoughts, making your heart flutter and suddenly all dread seems gone.

"What?" you ask with a surprised smile as you take off your gloves.

"Well, you see, I am not really used to showering with one arm." he says almost innocently, closing his eyes while smiling softly. A tension melts away and it gives you hope.

"Yeah, okay. I can wash your hair as well if you want to.." you speak up and suddenly feel embarrassed.

"I mean, don't think I am pressuring you, just-" your nervousness is evident, but Fyodor is quick to break it as he speaks up.

"I don't mind. That would be very nice." he says in a silky tone, further melting your worries away. You loved taking care of him because only in those moments you could feel the connection between the two of you.

You smile happily and nod as he stands up, the two of you heading to your bathroom together.

You place a little chair on the floor so he could sit down and hide his private parts.

"Okay, so you can just sit down and put the towel over your private parts, I promise I won't peak!" you let out a little laugh as you turn around and Fyodor smiles, closing his eyes.

"It's just flesh after all." he replies as he takes off his clothes and sits down on the chair, covering his private parts with a towel you prepared for him.

"It's privacy! Can I come now?" you ask in a much happier tone, your body filling with hope and a certainty of an opportunity for the new beginning.

"Yes, you can." he responds after letting out a light chuckle. 

You quickly come up to him, his back is turned to you and his face isn't visible. You turn on the water and put your fingers under the stream of the shower head, trying not to make it too cold.

"It will have to be a bit colder at first for your burns to ease up as well as the wound." you begin guiding him through the process, trying to make it more comfortable.

"Indeed." he replies as he lowers his head and you let a very slow stream of colder water run down his body. He sighs out as his burns feel less tight and painful underneath the coldness. His wound looks better as well, it seems cleansed and thankfully it didn't get infected by now. You notice his body slightly shivering as his veins become more blue and prominent under the thin skin. You close your eyes quickly, shaking off the thoughts. You slowly turn the handle of the faucet, adjusting the water to be warm. 

"Is this okay for you?" you ask in a soft tone as you check the warmth with your own fingers first.

"It's perfect." he replies as he moves his head, giving you a sneak of his side profile. A soft curl of the edge of his lips that revealed his smile made you feel even more positive about this night. 

You make sure his body is fully wet as you grab the showering sponge and wet it as well. As you lay down the shower head, you swiftly squeeze out the shower gel in your favorite aroma on the sponge and rub it in. You start gently rubbing Fyodor's back with the sponge, spreading the bubbles all over it. Paying close attention to the wound, you slowly go around it and gently soap his chest and tummy. You slide the sponge to his waist and he lifts his arm to give you access. You gently hold his biceps as you soap his waist, armpit then his whole arm. He starts humming a song you don't know, but you don't ask, enjoying long-awaited peacefulness as your body trembles with euphoria. 

"Okay, time for your hair now." you say softly and he remains silent, his eyes closed and a little smile on his face that you can't see. You put the sponge to the side as you turn on the water again, finding the perfect warmth. You slowly wet the length of his hair, letting it soak completely before you use your other hand to protect his face from the flow as you wet the roots. While doing so, you also cleanse the soap from his upper body. You are very delicate with your movement, treating him as if he was a porcelain doll. You put the shower head to the side and squeeze a little bit of shampoo on top of his head which makes him shiver. A mellow smile appears on your face as you slowly start rubbing in the shampoo with your fingertips, thinking his body is getting relaxed.

"You are always so delicate with me. God truly took his time embellishing those clement hands of yours." he says in a soft tone and it immediately sends waves of warmth through your entire body. You feel butterflies dance inside your tummy as no tension is felt anymore. You think it's the right time for you to get closer to him.

"So, would you mind telling me now what happened?" you whisper as your fingertips keep making more bubbles in Fyodor's hair. You try to reach every part of his head and give it equal attention. He sighs out very quietly.

"A helicopter exploded while I was inside." he responds in a cold and distant tone which makes your stomach curl into a ball of uneasiness. You try not to pressure him too much as you speak softly.

"I am happy you survived, you truly were lucky. It's almost like a rebirth." as you finish your sentence you move your fingertips out of his hair and prepare to rinse.

"There is no such thing as luck, God smiled upon me. Rebirth is the accurate way to describe it." he finishes with a little chuckle. 

The tone of his voice gives you mixed signals. It almost...makes you think he changed. Maybe this experience was truly needed for Fyodor to see what really matters. For a moment, you think there is truly an undeniable hope that this time you will be able to keep him by your side. 

Your body lights up with euphoria once again and you smile as you gently rinse the shampoo out of his hair, making sure none of it gets into his eyes.

"I will bring you a bowl so you can wash your legs...and the rest. It should make it easier." you say in a mixture of embarrassment and laughter as you turn off the water.

"I will manage without it." he turns his head to face you, the usual smile still remaining.

"Okay then. Towels and clean clothes are in the little closet. You know that. But, before I forget, don't put on a shirt, I still have to bandage your wound." you nod as you slowly turn around to give him some privacy.

"Thank you." he says in a convincingly and genuinely grateful tone, the one you haven't heard from him ever. It makes you pause for a moment, your heart feeling warm.

"Anytime." you reply softly and smile before you leave him to finish up the rest.

Once he finishes, you have already prepared the tea and some snacks to wait for him on the table. He sits down on the couch and you follow up, ready to take care of his last wound. He slowly brings his arm up as you roll them around his chest and over the wounded shoulder, making sure it's firm and layered enough. Once it is, you cut it and clip it properly, checking if it moves around or seems loose. Thankfully, you did a good job as always.

"Splendid. You truly are one of the best in what you do." Fyodor praises, smiling softly. You smile shyly as you help him put a shirt on. You look at him for a moment, observing his expression, but more so his fragile state.

"You seem to still not take iron pills as I told you years ago." you scold lightly and he chuckles.

"God intended me to be like this and I won't be defying him." he replies in a confident tone, making it almost impossible for you to nag further.

"Yet you cross the line at bandages." you chuckle as you take a sip of your own tea. 

"You wouldn't understand, nor I intend to try and make you to." he says in a faintly superior tone that immediately shifts your hopeful mood back to an uneasy one. You gulp as you watch his expressionless face, his eyes piercing through yours.

"Hey, about that..rebirth that we mentioned before.." you begin talking, hoping it will help your situation.

"What of it?" he asks, his tone cold.

"What do you plan on doing now?" you ask evidently insecure and unprepared for an answer you might dislike. Fyodor's presence becomes less intense as he sips the tea, shifting his gaze away from you.

"Hm, I don't know yet. Why?" he looks at you once again, his eyes setting up anguish inside you once more.

"No reason, I was just wondering." you reply as you look away, gaze shifting to your own reflection in the tea.

"Humans always have a reason and rarely it's pure curiosity." he says in a bored tone as this is something he often has to discuss. He finishes up his tea and slowly gets up which makes you look at him again.

"Where are you-"

"Thank you for the tea and the care. I shall take my leave now." he bows slightly, his body language so formal that it feels like he is crushing your heart with his own hand.

"Hold on..it's late. At least sleep here and leave in the morning." you hold for the last string of hope you have.

"No need. I have things to go back to, if you will excuse me." he ruins your last bit of hope and now all that speaks out of you is pure desperation as you watch his back. You get up abruptly, voice louder than you intended.

"Stay here with me! Please, Fyodor! You don't have to go back, you said this was your rebirth and if so, please, treat it as such! Use this opportunity to lead a normal life and stay with me, I will not tell a single soul!" your voice breaks as he remains turned away from you.

"I loved you for so long and if you could try, maybe, you could start loving me too..and even if you don't love me, I can live with that. But I can't let you leave me behind again, I don't know how much heart I have left in me to handle it. I would do anything for you, so please, consider." your eyes tear up as you open yourself to Fyodor, vulnerable and foolish. He turns around, finding your state irritating, but somewhat amusing.

"Then join me." he speaks in a sly tone, evidently making a final offer.

"You know I can't do that." you shake your head dismissively as your body begins to ache from the tension.

"Then, how can you say you love me and that you would do anything for me?" he chuckles, a wicked smile appearing on his face as he observes your distressed state.

"Because..I would..if you stayed here with me, but I can't..I can't join you." you shake your head as you close your eyes tightly, hoping it's all a bad dream.

"Seems like we both have conditions that neither can fulfill, how unfortunate." he says in a flat tone as he turns around to leave again. You feel your blood boil with sadness and desperation, making the last futile attempt.

"You used to say that God always smiles down on good people like me, so why can't you?!" you suddenly yell out and he stops again, slowly turning around again.

"Oh but I do. Very often. I always keep your name in my deepest prayers." he says in a calm and collected tone that makes you even more angry and hurt.

"I don't want no damn prayers!" you reply in a louder tone, your hands trembling as you feel your heart quite literally ripping apart.

"I can't give you more than that." he says coldly.

"Why not?!" you are on the verge of tears, your voice breaking as you give him an angry look.

"Do you even have a logical reason or unanswered question to ask me that?" he pauses for a moment, letting his coldly declared words sink in.

"My answer will never change. You will always be the place where I come when I have nowhere else to go, that's all there is." he continues, speaking slowly and making sure every word pierces through your soul.

"And what if I move?" you try to spite him, knowing very well.

"You won't. Both you and I know that very well. Your biggest mistake was attaching yourself to a man such as myself. God stopped smiling down at you a long time ago." his voice doesn't change, but his face molds into an unsettling wicked expression. You feel your heart skip a beat as your throat starts tightening.

"What about your prayers?" you choke out.

"They died out somewhere along the way." he replies quickly, still with a little smile on his face. You can feel all of your being slowly crushing and fading away.

"What about you saying how you are the luckiest man alive because of me?" you try so hard not to cry as reality hits you over and over again.

"There is no such thing as luck. You are just a convenient piece I used in a favourable way for myself." he hits you with another realization and it feels like a slap.

"So you lied to me?" you question in a dry tone, your gaze becoming vacant.

"I never said I was telling the truth, but to be fair, you understood in a way that was convenient and that gave you hope." he sighs out from disinterest in this conversation.

"So everything you said holds no meaning whatsoever?" you quickly reply, anger boiling inside your veins again.

"To me, it doesn't. To you, it does. We have different outlooks, frankly." his voice grows even more bored as he watches you with no empathy.

"That's all you have to say to me after all this time?" your anger keeps getting the best of you as you try to hold back tears, ignoring the lump in the throat.

"So, now you wish for me to lie to you? Humans truly don't know what they want." he pierces you with a dark gaze, evidently getting more irritated by you. Something just snaps inside of you as you witness such a dark and distant figure of a man you held so dearly to your heart.

"No, but..how can you be like that? You are so awfully cold and I can't even recognize you right now." you break, a few tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Did you perhaps think our little "bonding" moment in the shower meant something?" he sighs out, almost chuckling as a sly smile appears on his face again. His heavy and dark eyes gaze straight into yours as he speaks.

"I have been aware of your feelings ever since they manifested." he starts off, pausing for a moment and it fills you with foolish hope.

"You loving me means nothing to me. I don't need your emotions, your hope, a change, nor your love. You could join me and let me use you as needed. I don't want anything from you other than your skill. But, it could help you as well. You would get to spend more time with me and perhaps get an empty praise or two that your foolish heart seems so eager for." his voice is dark and filled with bitterness, it was clear he wants to hurt you. 

Your body begins to shake as all of your emotions explode making you grab the cup of tea and throw it on the floor, smashing it into little pieces.

"Get out!" you yell at him, breathing heavily as your tears make your throat tighten completely.

"Get the hell out!" you yell out once again, but this time a bit weaker as your hands fall onto your chest and you begin to sob uncontrollably.

Fyodor just observes you with zero sympathy whatsoever.

"That's what I intended to do. You did this to yourself." he says in a collected tone and gives you another sadistic gaze before smiling to himself as he finally leaves. As soon as you hear the door closing, you lay down on the floor, hugging your knees and trying to soothe your own cries as your weak, shaky and overwhelmed body feels like it will give out any moment soon. 

"I promised to myself that he would never do this to me ever again." is the last and only thought playing inside your head.

[beloved-blaiddyd]

“You might've heard of me as a textbook writer on Tome Mastery: A Guide To Advanced Reason Spells. As you might have guessed, I'm also a Blue Lions alumna... That, and I am the current chairperson of the Department of Reason Magic— so I'm plently capable to guide you around the Officer's Academy!"

"Sorry, I'm newly promoted. I nearly forgot that I'm no longer just a professor.”

“But before that, I need to know a few things... You must be...”

18+ years of age. [Minors: Do Not Interact];

And respectful of different ethnicities and other walks of life [Racists/Homophobes: Do Not Interact]

“... to enter and read its contents. I can't guarantee your safety otherwise. Oh, and I'm a rather busy woman, and I don't tolerate nonsense either. Perhaps it comes from being a tactician in the last war. If you have any questions, send a letter. I'll accept inquiries about..."

Greetings and other formalities;

Profile analysis [character brainrots/fic ideas];

and news updates & relevant fun facts about the library to share [irl and fandom related]

“However, I will promptly BURN your letter if it involves...”

Carnal desires [NSFW thirst asks. I'm ace and uninterested in matters of the flesh. Please send that to another fellow fan instead.];

and childish and irrelevant content [copypastas and overall spam is not tolerated.]

“That is all. If you believe I'm rather strict, that stems from years of experience handling groups of people. Failing to lay down groundwork tend to incite attacks on boundaries among members.”

“... Three thousand five hundred men have died because of this on the Fodlan Wars. Let's not repeat those mistakes.”

How to send asks...

Mutuals/off anon: send as usual.

For anons: please make up a realistic fake name. It's for the sake of the theme. Example:

Dear Brynlee,

I can't stop brainrotting about Zhongli like what if he's a prince- prince au zhongli with princess consort reader go brrrrrrr like wtf i can't stop thinking about morax girl i need help

Ms. Sophia Pendragon

Honestly, it's not that hard. Why are people failing this? It's just a realistic fake name.

I won't entertain "can I be 🗣️ anon" asks. This will let me know if an anon read the rules. Plus, I prefer using names rather than scrambling to find emojis instead. I quit my old one despite being a decently "successful" blog because anons do not respect personal boundaries on my asexuality despite it being explicitly written down. This is just an act of self-preservation.

When sending asks please note that this blog is following Three Houses' worldbuilding. Claiming to be a God or some Diety in the asks will certainly follow confused responses as majority of the cast believes only in Sothis. Modern inventions will likely confuse "Brynn" as well. That is all!

P.S: if you wish to talk to me as a creator, address me as Beloved/B rather than Brynn so I know when to break character. Ty!

Anon List...

Riley H. Goodheart

Steven Sterling

Bremen

Lia Tostyava

Reli

Crow

J. Fisher

What kind of comics/fiction does Beloved write?

Editor (Veritas): She writes mostly dark content. Obsession, cannibalism, aphrodisiacs, kidnappings, sexual assault— you name it. Where does she get those ideas from? Unsure. Perhaps they're stories she personally witnessed when she joined the war. She does not romanticize these concepts. In fact, she seems to emphasize how uncomfortable it is to be in that position.

Editor (Veritas): That is the reason as to why she personally does not depict any sexualization of what occurs in her work. It's meant to be disturbing. Not romantic.

How the blog tags posts...

$ ooc: out of character/setting ramblings (casual talk)

$ brynn's manuscripts: for writing

$ brynn's papers: for art

$ support conversations: for ramblings and general interactions, both fictional and otherwise.

$ A-Support = _____: for mutuals/characters

$ C-Support = Mx. ____: for anons/new friends

$ S-Support = ____: for (romantic) self-ships...

- Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd

- Dainsleif

- Oda Sakunosuke

- Gepard Landau

$ auxiliary missions: ask games or participated events

$ abyss revisited: in-case-you-missed-it reblogs

$ traded tomes: fanfic recommendations

$ traded papers: fanart recommendations

$ traded news: important irl news or other fandom related posts

[go-to-the-mirror]

Happy @tmaappreciationweek day 1! I drew something, but it’s kinda ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, so… fic recs! Jon-centric ones, because he’s my favourite major character to precisely no one’s surprise.

It’s in order of vaguely when they take place.

nature has taught her creatures to hate (words 183,928) by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup

Jon goes to the Magnus Institute to give a statement about Mr. Spider when he’s 8 years old, but is kidnapped and made to become a child avatar. It… really hurts. So much. 100% recommend. Good luck.

Merry-Go-Round (words 20,744) by Prim_the_Amazing

Jon becomes a stranger avatar, in like this horrifying way, and it’s like, it’s almost appealing, like MAG 152, but also you’re like oh god. Ohhhh god. Dont. Dont do that. And yeah, it’s really good.

you appear familiar, dear— you look just like my bathroom mirror (words 3,340) by takethebreadsticksandRUN

One of those one shots that take a theme and then run with it through canon (and in this case, pre-canon). It’s about identity issues related to your body, about gender dysphoria and the Issues that come with having your bodily autonomy repeatedly violated and also religion. Catholicism, to be specific. It’s really good, and the religious imagery is neat, and it’s so good. It’s really gender, it gets the gender feelings.

Jon focused, introspection. I love Jon focused introspection.

all your scars are looking more like scales (words 2,827) by ceaselesswatchers

Another one of those one shots. This time the theme is Jon being a dragon (in an Otherkin way). It’s really good.

but you just don’t feel the same (words 2,825) by ceaselesswatchers

Yet another one of those one shots. This one focuses on soulmates, how they’re actually body horror if you think about it, and how that would interact with being aro. Jon’s aromantic in this fic.

Also, I won’t spoil it, but it’s got a moment near the end that I love so much, and it’s just… this fic really tackles a lot of things in TMA and a lot of things with soulmate AUs and makes me Very Horrified.

terror management theory (words 36,587) by prismatical

ITS SO FUNNY AND ITS SO SAD

It’s half crack half oh my god. oh my fucking god. Where Jon was killed by Mr. Spider as a kid and now he keeps coming back to life. Prismatical writes really good… moments that stick in your brain.

There is a Wasp’s Nest in my Archives (words 7,525) by ineverwritebutwhatever

One of the first fics I bookmarked, like even before finishing season 2? Had no idea what the corruption was, but then, but then, I revisited it, and it’s… phenomenal? It really does a good job of tackling both the metaphorical and literal aspects of the corruption.

of broken tables and stained kitchen sinks (words 2,114) by ocaptain_mycaptain

Everyone’s favourite… Jongeorgie angst! Platonic. It’s set in season 3, Jon’s all like “I’ll keep all of my problems right here, and then one day, I’ll die” and Georgie’s like “hey, jon, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me anything. Please tell me something” and meanwhile they’re having issues that are symbolised through Georgie’s home and furniture being in need of repairs.

Not (words 1,767) by DaFlangstLairde

A really cool fic beginning in season 3 (but it’s one of Those one shots), focusing on what it means to be a person and even real. Can confirm, feels a lot like depersonalisation, lol. Anyway, it’s so cool, also it’s something I can use to say Stranger!Jon rights.

So, for realistic depictions of depersonalisation, Jon themed musings on humanity, and Stranger!Jon propaganda… this is the fic for you!

The Bird of Paradise (comic, 47 chapters) by lady_libertine

This was required reading for a different fic. It’s about Jon meeting Odin, Dionysus, and Lucifer during the Unknowing, and getting slightly magical therapy that helps him fix his problems. It’s actually pretty good. Very long, though. And not described (unless it is through alt text).

Cry For Me (words 4,827) by BusinessCasualAura

(who is apparently my mutual, i keep forgetting this)

Okay, so this series is like, so sad. It’s so bloody sad. It starts between s3 and s4 (getting off to a Sad Start), continues through s4 and s5, ends in like, the worst way (for the characters). It’s so bloody good, and the Upton House portion is like… top 2 Upton House fics.

can’t be helped (words 5,308) and rituals (words 8,492) by doomcountry

The first fic is set in season 4, but canon diverges, and both Martin and Jon fall fully to their patrons (i.e. Jon becomes a lot more evil and inhuman, Martin fulfils more of the diagnostic criteria for major depressive disorder).

The second fic is set after the first fic, with Martin (less lonely) trying to see if there’s any Jon left in the Archivist. First fic focuses pretty equally on Jon and Martin, but in separate storylines, second fic is from the Archivist’s POV, but focuses on Jmart.

stopgap prophecy (words 16,686) by prismatical

It’s about humanity and monsterhood and “is it right to die bc living will hurt people” and change, and I love it. It’s so good. And Jon’s narration is wonderful, and the climax is just, it’s amazing to read, it plays out in my head all the time. Set in season 4, post-MAG 146.

the best policy (words 20,094) by BlueGirl22

Jon reads a truth telling Leitner during season 4, and then people have heart to hearts with him. It goes. It certainly goes.

For he will not do destruction, if he is well fed (words 15,127) by greevianguy

Jon projects on a cat for 15,127 words. No but, like, set in season 4, Jon sees a cat at the institute, and then he sees it again with Daisy, and he wonders if he can help, and he thinks about the cat Daisy had and how it was let go by someone who was supposed to help it and yes jon go on, no, im not taking notes.

It’s just, argjhhh it’s so painful. Might be my favourite tma fic. Go read it. Right now.

Out of My Head (words 15,641) by buildoblivionthenwewilltalk

This is a really good post-MAG 154 fic, and it’s got this cool original character, and it’s got this absolute BANGER of an ending that never gets elaborated on, it’s fine i’m fine and yeah. Favourite post-MAG 154, easily.

in the chillest land and on the strangest sea (words 19,632) by imperfectcircle and raven (singlecrow)

I’m pretty sure this is one of those fandom classics. Based on the amount of comments, it’s pretty well known, but I enjoyed it, so… it’s about Hope as an entity. It’s in the format of Daisy telling Jon a story while the latter is staying at the Scottish Safehouse. The story is from season 1 onward but the framing device is post-MAG 159 pre-MAG 160. It’s got great moments that live in my mind rent free.

john 19:41 (words 1,142) by tkkarno

Set immediately after MAG 160, Jon reflects on his humanity, the loss of it, and the relation of that to Jane Prentiss, and also biblical themes. The title is the bible quote: “Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden; and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein was never man yet laid.”

Pretty much exclusively focuses on Jon. Stream of consciousness ramble, yknow.

In this harsh world (words 1,132) by CirrusGrey

This is my favourite of the 40 fics Citrus wrote while s5 was coming out. It’s a conversation after Upton House. It’s titled after a line from Hamlet. Frankly I don’t think I need to say any more.

where there’s a will, we make a way (words 305,816) by bubonickitten

Time travel fix it fic, time travel fix it fic! To be completely honest, I don’t really like time travel fix it fics, but this one is an exception. s5!Jon basically replaces season 4 Jon, and still has issues, and they focus on multiple characters, and there’s so much getting angry at Jonah Magnus — if I’m being honest, sometimes I just read this fic and go through the content warnings to see which chapters probably mention Jonah Magnus and read those, because the handling of Jonah Magnus is like, thank you. I love it.

Focuses on multiple characters, but Jon’s the main character. Also, diverges before MAG 187, and it was being written pre-finale. It’s still ongoing.

rewind. play. eject. (words 39,543) by boredshyandbi

Jon’s stuck in a timeloop of MAG 39, and it’s heartbreaking to see him every time try to fix things, try to save Sasha and Martin and Tim, and there are Lines. There are Lines. That stick out in my brain. Do you think I’m ever going to be okay about paperclips again? No! I’m not. It’s another exception to the time travel fix-it rule, but only because it’s got... a different plot. And it’s just that good.

Countdown to Extinction (words 131,464) by starspangledbread

Another exception! Tbf though, it’s another different one.

First fic isn’t quite monster4monster4monster jongerrymart, but it’s got the Vibes. Jon commits petty crimes and also major crimes like Multiple Kidnappings, uh and then the second fic is just. Wow okay that’s a tonal difference. Dealing with repercussions…

ANYWAY I wholeheartedly recommend both :D

[windblume-wishes]

HTTYD x Genshin Impact - Visions

𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤, 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕣!

Since I’ve decided to start writing some HTTYD Fics and HCs on this blog, my dearest travelers, I’ve decided to start strong and do a vision analysis for the main characters of HTTYD! Hope you all enjoy this! ♡︎

Please consider joining the Discord for fandom shenanigans!

𝕃𝕖𝕥’𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕨, 𝕀 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖…

“The Gods goad us all with the promise of their seven treasures: rewards for the worthy, a doorway to divinity. Yet buried in this world are smoldering remains: a warning to those that dare trespass. That throne in the sky is not reserved for you. But mortal arrogation never stops. None will escape the flames. See for yourself."

𖣘 Anemo - The Spirit of Freedom 𖣘

“What does freedom really mean when demanded of you by a god?"

Those who possess the power of Anemo tend to not get nervous or overwhelmed by the situations they face. Anemo bearers value freedom so much that they will sometimes fight for those who deny it to others or themselves…

Ruffnut and Tuffnut - The two are practically the embodiment of freedom in their own unique way, so much so that they take what it means to be free in a whole new meaning. While they like to wreak havoc across the land the two know deep down that even when it comes to fighting for the freedom of dragons there is nothing that can stop them. Freedom can mean many things but what it means to them is being able to free a dragon who is being hurt by evil.

Valka- She holds freedom dear despite it bringing her a heavy burden. When she was taken by a dragon many years ago while trying to save her infant son she immediately knew what she had to do- even if it meant never seeing her husband and son again. She fought for what was right and freed many dragons- protected them too. She knew freedom came with a cost. What she lost was later gained.

ꕥ Geo - Contracts and Order ꕥ

“In the end, he will sign the contract to end all contracts."

Like the land, they have a calm temperament. Earth types are very grounded individuals, as of realistic. Geo Vision holders seek loyalty, security, reliability, and so on. They value what is set in stone, or believe everything is, and are known to be very stubborn…

Viggo Grimborn- Leader of the Dragon Hunters, a strategic thinker and is smarter with his age and experience in his years. He is realistic in thinking and is incredibly stubborn- everything happens for a reason and knows much can be set in stone. He values loyalty and does not care how he gets it as long as he is feared above all. While he would indeed use his vision for acts of evil it is not a surprise that Geo was meant for a man of his skill and intelligence.

Fishlegs- While some would argue Fishlegs being a Dendro holder it becomes a bit more obvious that Geo is best suited for him. His behaviour is that of a Geo. He seeks a sense of security and is incredibly reliable, someone that people just feel comfortable opening up to and a wonderful friend. Fishlegs values loyalty and kindness, he wishes to shield his friends and beloved dragon Meatlug from foes no matter the cost. While he may be cowardly at times he has a pure heart that is made of gold. He means well and wants the best for everyone.

Stoick The Vast- While some might quick to label him as that of an Anemo holder due to losing his wife, Stoick truly embodies that of Geo in terms of being the foundation of his people’s tradition and wishing to hold true to his well grounded beliefs and ideals. He values loyalty and strength and is very much built like that of a bolder. Stoick the Vast is truly a reliable leader in the eyes of those on Berk. Though he once believed that the hatred to dragons was set in stone a sudden and difficult experience changed his mind- he was stubborn, yes, but that can all come down to him being a true man of Geo.

 Electro - Everlasting Eternity 

“But what do mortals see of the eternity chased after by their god?"

Eternity, a means where all or at least parts of life is kept the same regardless of what goes on in the world around them. The ideas of unchanging eternity is what strengths the individuals who harness the powers of Electro. They strive to keep themselves in whatever they deem to be eternal. Whether it is eternal beauty or eternal power, they will achieve that goal. No matter what, even if it may be destructive...

Heather - She is no stranger to chasing her own version of eternity, she felt so alone not knowing where she came from with only fragments of memories left behind in her mind. She wanted clarity and to understand as much as possible of who she really was- one could say that her pursuit of answers was her eternity. From a very young age, she was separated from her real family, and was eventually taken in by a couple who raised her as their own daughter. Even with what adoptive family she did have, her pursuit for answers was evident from the start. She was seen as different- an outcast even but even so being different was what lead her to find what she wanted all along. Her eternity.

Dagur The Deranged- Heather’s older brother, a crazy and rather deranged man befitting his namesake has his own way of defining eternity. He has a strong connection to Electro. The Skrill is the dragon the Berserker Tribe have named the symbol of their people. He is impulsive and never ceases his drive for eternity- an eternity of his own. Now that he is married to Mala of the Defenders of the Wing he seeks an eternity with her where they will fight alongside each other.

Mala- Her eternity is simple, peace and protection for her people and it’s dragons. She is not afraid to turn her katana-like sword on anyone who dare challenges her sense of eternity or dares harm a dragon. Mala holds a strong, religious admiration for dragons, actively antagonizing dragon hunters, suspected dragon hunters and anyone who may have harmed dragons. She is elegant and polite, if anything some may think she is much like the archon of which her vision emanates from.

❦ Dendro - Wisdom and Knowledge ❦

“The oasis of knowledge is a mirage in the desert of ignorance.”

As the nature, trees, the soil they are the epitome of life. The element with creation itself. Dendro people will often be creative, bring up ideas to change the current situation, and bring a whole new perspective on matters. They are crafty yet incredibly careful, they wish not to overlook a single detail put before them. As with knowledge and wisdom, they seek answers and solutions to any problem put in their path. Daring to risk it all, one might say…

Hiccup- Intelligent and incredibly creative through and through. While he may have been hesitant to share his views on dragons in the past and worked in secret to become the well known dragon rider he is today. It should come to no one’s surprise that Hiccup values knowledge and has a drive to learn as much as he can, like a sponge soaking up water be soaks up knowledge. He is incredibly creative and always seems to have a bright idea to help get the job done.

Gothi- Berk’s resident healer who is skilled with all things medicine. Gothi’s knowledge is in medicine and the earth itself, with her knowledge she can be sure to cure as many as possible by using what she knows about herbs and other natural remedies.

Bucket- Bucket was attacked by a dragon and lost half of his brain. It caused him to lose his sight temporarily, and to protect what was left of his skull, he wears an iron bucket on his head permanently, earning him the name. Now do not let this half-brained Viking fool you, he is indeed a man of Dendro in a very unique way. His injury also awakened great artistic talent, and he made two quality paintings of Hiccup and Stoick, but the second painting was more truthful of Hiccup's appearance; the first was not. True to the Dendro element’s ability to belong to creative minded people, Bucket holds true to his creative abilities proudly.

Trader Johann- Creative and cunning, Johann has proven that he is indeed worthy of Dendro by means of his crafty facade of a dimwitted trader of many goods while being the mastermind of many great troubles the dragon riders have come across. He as is crafty as he is careful, not daring to miss even a little detail as why his act was able to keep going for many long years. While he may not use his vision for good, he is indeed a genius…

𖦹 Hydro - The Desire For Justice 𖦹

"The god of justice lives for the spectacle of the courtroom, seeking to judge all other gods. But even she knows not to make an enemy of the Divine."

Hydro bearers tend to go along with the flow, as water can take the same shape of its vessel. They adapt to situations quite fast, or are not overwhelmed by what surrounds them. They seem justice and have a rather strong sense of it, holding those who dare question them before their being as if it were court. They are judgmental, but not always in a negative way, some more observant and silent than others. But be warned, they will make sure a tsunami of justice hits you when you are wrong…

Astrid- She is truly the embodiment of the Hydro element’s principles of justice and a quick adaptability to chaos in their way. Astrid’s sense of justice does to always being quick to sense when one is not who they seem, quickly calling them out as an act of judgement- though she may remain silent on the matter she will judge the one worthy of her judgement and without mercy.

Atali- Atali is very polite and gracious, though has little patience for any disrespect. Much like her vision’s very principles she holds Justice above all and will defend in the name of it. She is gentle and kind, nurturing to baby razorwhip dragons in her care but will happily turn her blade against those who dare harm a dragon. Her justice is in the name of protection of those in her care.

𖣔 Pyro - War Within 𖣔

"The rules of war are woven in the womb. The victor shall burn bright, while the losers must turn to ash."

Pyro wielders are the most passionate people you may find, they do every single thing with huge amounts of willpower, energy and love. That is not to say that there may be a barrier to keep them from reaching their full potential. Many Pyro holders struggle with “war”, the very thing their Vision symbolizes. War is not always a fight with another, but inside yourself…

Drago- The very embodiment of Pyro’s thirst for war. His drive and sheer willpower to concur says it all, he is truly one chosen of the Pyro element. Dragon is fierce and as brutal as a raging wildfire, his temper that of an erupting volcano. He has no love in his body, only the energy and will to concur- that is his flame, his true passion.

Mindin- Like the other Wingmaidens, she is respectful towards the others. However, Mindin’s call to Pyro was the feeling of never truly being enough. Minden has always wanted to prove her worth to Atali, to show that she is a leader material. When she realized that she has made reckless decisions, she feels ashamed and that she is not worthy to become a Wingmaiden. It takes an encouragement from Snotlout to help herself in getting back on her feet and to do the right thing. Pyro can mean that she has conflict burning within, she indeed does but that does not define who she is, her strength and willpower to prove herself has shown her true worth.

Snotlout- Pyro was naturally the vision he wanted to hold from the beginning, after all, Hookfang is a Monstrous Nightmare- a stoker class of dragon. If anyone was fit for Pyro it was Snotlout. He embodies Pyro’s traits in an interesting way, always wanting to prove himself. He is passionate… but sometimes his passion may get the better of him….

Gustav- Snotlout’s mini me, a wannabe new and improved Snotlout (well, more like more chaotic version). He admires Snotlout and his ability to train a dragon to the point where he gets his own dragon named Fanghook. Gustav often times mimics Snotlout's personality, although he is easily scared, mostly because he is younger, as has decided to run away twice… despite this he is indeed worthy of pyro based on his dedication, passion, and his inner conflict of not being entirely true to himself.

❄︎ Cryo - Conflicted and Strident ❄︎

"She is a god with no love left for her people, nor do they have any left for her. Her followers hope only to be on her side when the day of her rebellion against the Divine comes at last."

Cold yet calm, confident yet conflicted. Those who wield the powers of Cryo are individuals who all seem to have something that they deeply despise, whether it be a topic or person they seem to hold a deep inner hatred towards it. They are quick to talk about their despise and come against it rather quickly if given the chances. Cryo holders may seem harsh, but many are kind and well intentioned deep down. Much like a flower hidden beneath the winter snow. They sometimes find hard to love and embrace; just as they have found it hard to embrace their true self…

Ryker Grimborn- As the older brother of Viggo Grimborn, he's the muscle and brawn, while he lacks the brains for many an operation, he makes up for it in pure brute force. He is undoubtedly the type of character that wants to just run in and start beating everybody up and killing everything and everyone in his vicinity, Ryker is far smarter than he looks and is capable of trickery- he is cold and brutal, a pure Cryo at heart. By keeping a relatively calm demeanor before going blizzard crazy, he knows when to attack with ease.

Krogan- He is very quiet, calm and collected, and seems to prefer observing to joining in the commotion. He is quite literally the calm before the storm- or raging blizzard. Most of his actions are overly dramatized, suggesting he's well disciplined and might have a gift for performing. He’s the embodiment of the Cryo principles and personality. He is the farthest from kind, harsh as the coldest of winters and with a heart of solid ice.

Eret- While some might not have guessed Eret is one for the vision of Cryo but he is truly a Cryo deep down. Cocky and overconfident, only appearing to care about saving his own skin. In spite of his cavalier façade, Eret is rather charming, heroic, and kind-hearted. As a Cryo user, a key personality trait is he may seem harsh, but is kind and well intentioned deep down. He has come a long way from foe to friend and has become an incredible leader in his own way.

————

"Some say a few are chosen and the rest are dregs. But I say we humans have our humanity. We will defy this world with a power from beyond. Now, you will set foot in this world. Your journey has reached its end. But one final doorway remains. Step forth if you have understood the meaning of your journey. Defeat me. Command me to step aside. Show me that you are worthier than I to rescue her. Then the threads of all fate will be yours to reweave."

"My memory is all but faded completely. But I will always remember how much she, too, loved these flowers."

[skibasyndrome]

Hey Simon 💜,

I was wondering about 8, 9, 14, 24, 31, 33, 38 and 40 for the fanfic asks.

Please just pick the ones you want to answer :)

Hiiii, thank you so much for the ask, dear Sophia 🥰💜

8. How slow is a slow burn?

God do I love a slow burn. But at the same time! With Wilmon slow burn just feels near impossible. I feel like there's always already this spark of intense interest with them, at least when I write them.

But tbh, my definition of a slow burn is very wide. Do they long and pine for two chapters? Slow burn. Do they long and pine for 20 chapters? Slow burn. Whatever feels like it's right for the story.

But yeah, idk if I could ever do the more general definition of a slow burn justice, lol, I mean I had Wilmon hooking up in a club and Wille is already plotting their future together 😭😅

9. Thoughts on cliffhangers.

LOVE. They PAIN me, but fuck, do I love cliffhangers. I haven't really had a chance to use them because I haven't posted any longer fics but let me tell youuuu cliffhangers are coming!

14. Write and share the first sentence of a new fic. Just that.

Simon hurries along the path towards the lecture hall, backpack slung over one shoulder and camera in his hand.

(iykyk 👀)

24. Thoughts on flashbacks/flashforwards.

Hmmm, I've personally never used them a lot because I can never quite manage to weave them in organically imo. If I so have to refer to something in the past I generally try to keep it short and as vague as possible.

31. What was the most difficult fic for you to write (but in the end you made it)?

Hmmm... I mean I gotta say that back in the day I simply never finished fics that seemed too difficult 💀 But for my new writing "era" or whatever you wanna call it I reeeeaaaally struggled with Never Letting You Go because I somehow had all these doubts and all these fears and was convinced that everybody would hate it 🙃 But you know that best, Sophia, thanks for helping me get through that low 💜

33. Give your writing a compliment.

I like to think that my explicit scenes are realistic 👀

38. "This never happened" fix-it fics or "this happened but" fix-it fics?

Ohhhh, I love when people find a way to fix things while keeping the problem in there. That's just super impressive. Idk if I could do that though, I like to just ignore inconvenient parts of canon with no reason other than "because I said so".

40. Write a 9-word fic.

this is so fun but so difficult every time

They collided, setting fire to the air around them.

Please send me writing asks <3

[reaperkaneki]

just finished reading the spirit bares its teeth, by the same author as hell followed with us, and i’m not exactly sure what to say. just. dear lord, what a book. absolutely not one for the squeamish, faint-hearted, or anyone with any triggers at all. when i say this is a gory, messy, horror novel centered around medical trauma and the horrible things inflicted on queer, neurodivergent, or otherwise undesirable people, i fucking mean it. i read hfwu and thought to myself, this ya novel is more explicit than some adult that i’ve read; i read tsbit and thought to myself, oh, that was nothing compared to this. granted, that was body horror and this is medical horror, but the two are almost one in the same. (it’s arguably worse since the gore is realistic rather than lab-engineered doomsday cult zombie virus mutation.)

of course, i loved it. i loved all the descriptions of dissections and diy surgery and morbid intrusive thoughts. i love that all the girls are flawed, in such a believable way. they have no loyalty to each other because they’re all just trying to survive. yet there’s still some unspoken rules of human decency, the occasional measure of silent sympathy.

i will say that the romance subplot is a little weak: the love interest, as an outsider, had very little opportunity to shine, and in contrast to all the girls we see on the daily, doesn’t have many discernible flaws. the main character falls for them immediately, and they’re beautiful and perfect and etc etc. (at least protag is self-aware that their infatuation is helped in no small part by the fact that he thinks of them as safe, in a situation where he has very few, if any, allies.) their existence is also extremely convenient—which is not necessarily a criticism, as with every story, characters exist because the plot demands it—but it does come off a little contrived.

i think it managed to include all the horrible, horrible topics you might expect from a sanitarium-style setting (physical and sexual abuse, medical torture and mutilation, grooming, forced marriage/pregnancy, etc) in a way that wasn’t overly edgy or gratuitous. they were implied from the start and later explicitly stated, but not depicted in a voyeuristic way, if that makes sense. (and of course, the comeuppance is violent and bloody and cathartic.)

in summary, i enjoyed it more than the author’s previous book, which i already liked a lot! would recommend with a hard caveat that you need to read the trigger warnings dear god please mind the warnings it is a little brutal. for a ya novel.

[trentbent069]

My latest humiliation-porn script aimed at my cack cock...

Set in my local GP surgery... Where I actually have been examined naked and ridiculed by the featured female doctor there... Although not as desirably as in this script writing...

Plus the other featured staff member, asterisk-censored out for her privacy, also actually once wiggled HER shapely ass right next to my pug-ugly mug... But I'd be deluded to believe it was because she fancied me... No, more realistically like she was teasing me with what I will never get to personally ride coitally - and absolutely the kind of sexual humiliation I desire badly! OOF, yes please, and a half!

"Right, Mr ******... Out with it, please... And let's see what you have to offer us here...

Haha! Oh dear! Haha! Sorry! But not even good enough to be on offer in a bargain bin...in a Poundland shop! Haha! Wait there a second...

Oh, cooee, ***! Come here a sec, please...

And come and see what I have waiting here for you!

Although I can assure you that it won't make you want to come in a better way! _____ Oh fuck! Oh my fucking god! Haha! Fuck me blind! What the fuck do you call that minuscule little thing!

Sorry! But did I accidentally say "fuck me"? Sorry, ***! But you've got absolutely zero chance of you ever doing such a naughty adult sexual thing to me!

And I doubt that even the older female staff here... Older than you, too! Will willingly agree to open their legs to allow a shag to such a maggot piece of nothingness! And not even a charity fuck!

Not that it stands a chance of even fitting past our vaginal lips! Haha! Oops!

So... Sorry, ***! But it appears you're fucked! Or not fucked, to be technically correct!

Oh, and on top of you not being permitted to be sexually on top of any of us, or vice versa, you're also an ugly fuck to boot! Haha! Poor diddums! Oh dear! Haven't got it good in life, have you! Oops!

You sad little virgin for life! _____ WOW, ***! You can actually see its repulsive nakedness with the naked eye??? I was just about to fetch our clinical microscope, because I was having such a hard job seeing its microscopic nonexistence with mine! _____ Sorry, but I didn't catch that... Did you say hand-job? Oh, come on, but it ain't even *******-worthy of one of those from us! Haha! And I'm betting we couldn't even get a little squirt out of the squinty little Jap's-eye of the equally little squirt it is!

Two baby balls... Right, ***? But not even a dribble from them, I'm sure...

And I'm also sure that only two of my little fingers, ironically longer than such a short excuse for a manhood, could wank it off! _____ And, speaking of finger... Here's just one also longer finger... Pointing towards the surgery exit door... Showing you the way to fuck off! Right now! And the one and only fuck you're getting from the sexually discerning all of us ladies, here... And, oh, by the ****** ***, I've just confiscated all of your clothes... So you'll have to walk home completely nude... And so suffer the red-faced shame of having your tiny minuscule also ridiculed by all your neighbours... _____ Here are all my fingers, as a wave goodbye... Bye-bye, ***! But thanks for giving us all one jolly good belly laugh, at your wee willy winkle overshadowed by your also laughably roly-poly belly! Yuck, look at it wobble! You fucking revolting fat fuck! Fuck off with it and do your silly ugly-duckling waddle, which will make it wobble even more...

Go on! Do one! And move that equally fat-fuck ass out of here! But, come to think of it... Actually, run... And pray with ten more longer fingers that no real man long dong sees it... As prey for an anal raping... But, mind you, at least you'll then get to lose your anal virginity, to make up for you never losing your penile virginity..."

[mattreactsto]

- Who even sleeps with a sleeping mask anymore.

- It’s…Jim? (Josh…but at least it starts with J)

- Oh Christ. Really. Just. Wow.

- Oh that crack didn’t sound good. (I’d let Eddie break my pelvis. Not that I’ll tell Matt that.)

- Raccoon!!

- Who gave Buck a power tool.

- Creepy Nanny. What the fuck is with the nanny’s fake tan.

- Aww. Remember when Joe tried blowing kisses the first time? Didn’t he punch your face? (Black eye. Bloody nose. Yeah. It went a bit wild.)

- Linda!!! She needs more screen time.

- The puppy! Oh no. Hoover. Can we take Hoover? (No more dogs Hun.)

- Well this is a day for home invasions. (It’s…it’s the name of the episode.)

- Awww. Sue. I would love to have a boss like Sue. I wonder how Sue is at architectural detailing.

- I thought that address look familiar.

- Yup. Denny is being raised by the gays. Poached eggs. Yas boy.

- Wait. Karen is…cool with this?

- Bobby has puppy eyes. That match Hoover’s.

- Oh god. No. Not looking at dry wall.

- Why do I have a feeling this is not going to end well for the reno?

- Brother’s kinda cute. I bet he takes directions really well.

- He’s an idiot.

- Hey! He’d be a dumb fuck!!

- Aren’t they worried about…stabbing…Vincent?

- I hope they aren’t hitting anything structural up there.

- Umm…are they fucking? (Who?) Vincent and his sister? (No. I see why you ask. But. No.)

- Karen’s going to give you an anatomy practical.

- Hoover! The Beaver Dam!

- Bobby owes Karen a pulsing shower head for dropping off Hoover.

- It’s someone at dispatch tipping them off. Oh please can it be Josh who cracked because hot electrician dumped him because Josh is…trashy?

- Fuck it isn’t Josh.

- Oh it’s the Bible named guy using Maddie’s ID. Moses? (Noah. Not the same book in the Bible but points for Eddie...Hubby. Fuck. This is why I should have waited on that last glass of wine.)

- Oh Chim and Maddie. I love the weird shit they get wrapped in.

- Bathtub wine is the best wine.

- Oh Moses. Maddie is fucking with you. (Noah dear. Noah.)

- Noah…you…you need to shut up. She’s wearing a wire. 10:1 odds.

- “Cool motive. Still illegal.”

- Yes! I was right! Wire!

- Well. This is pretty fucking racist of the writers. Like. Yes. Crime happens with every race. But wow. Black man on hard times turns to crime to help family and gets caught and cuffed. Super racist, writers.

- Remember when we used to sleep in the same room. You would have beaten me senseless if I turned on the light like that when you were asleep. (Didn’t stop you from doing it though, now did it.)

- Awww Hoover.

- This isn’t realistic. With Hen?

- Hoover is gonna fuck up Eddie’s place.

- Chris is hilarious.

- Nanny is crazy. I mean. I know you’d gladly bang Eddie like a screen door in a tornado, but you don’t slam the door in his face. (He looks particularly fuckable being kind dog dad.)

- You’re not wrong Eddie. Very strange.

- And borderline racist caricature of an Asian landlord. Jesus shit.

- Hen’s leaving. For probably like…two episodes.

- Wow. Eddie. Not at ALL subtle there. (We rewatched some of those episodes.)

- I refuse to believe that Angela Basset is in her 60’s.

- Aww. Good for Hoover!!!!

- Did Maddie kill Magda?

- Why the hell are Buck and Eddie there.

- Okay. They’re with other people. Still. Weird.

- Is this a new episode? (No.) Is that the old set for the old dispatch? (Now that you mention it, it looks like a re-dress of part of it.)

- Is that Karen? (Yes…)

- She still has a job? Huh. You never really see her at work. Or talking about it. Ever. At all. Did the writers forget? Were the writers high? (Probably yes on both counts.)

- Well. This was better than I expected. You don’t look like you hated it.

- (Thank you dear. I really enjoy)

- You still look like you’re a pissed off little hobbit though. Sorry. You were saying something.

- (I was going to say I enjoyed watching it with you…but now I’m going to enjoy giving you the silent treatment and watching your brain spin out on you. Time to watch an episode of Orphan Black.)

[queerofcups]

Dear Yuletide 2023 Writer

Hi Yuletide writer! This is my first time doing Yuletide, so thank you SO much for the fic you’re gonna write. It probably doesn’t exist yet, but I already love it. Please don’t take my chattiness as directives (other than my DNWs), I’m really just putting you in the general arena of stories I wanna read, go wild from there.

Requests: Worlds Beyond Number (Podcast)

I know Word of God is that Suvi, Ame, and Eursulon are faaaaamily, but I think it’s legal to think the kid you went to summer camp with turned out to be a hottie actually.

There’s so! much! tension! Between these three and its nearly all unspoken and I think that’s very sexy and interesting

OT3 endgame, but totally fine with pre-endgame hookups & feelings between any two members of our little party

Plotwise, go nuts here, I’ll take anything from silly falling into bed together to the serious, hard work of making a relationship work with people with VERY different politics, or even the aforementioned, “oh damn, such and such got hot???” fic. I just want more of these three together.

The Bear (TV 2022)

Carmy and Sid hooking up would be a TERRIBLE idea, professionally speaking, and probably also emotionally speaking. I want to read about the ways that it could go wrong and why they do it anyway. Do they keep it a secret? Do they fail at keeping it a secret? Is it incredibly obvious to the rest of the crew?

I’ve read a lot of very sweet fics where they fall in love and all is great, and those are wonderful, but I think messy power dynamics are hot and interesting and they’ve got bad idea written all over them.

Bonus bonus points if you engage with what food, cooking and meals mean to both of them.

Barbie (Movie 2023)

Let Barbie be gay!!!! Greta Gerwig was trying to tell us something with all that Indigo Girls and Birkenstock and I wanna read someone picking up what she’s putting down. Barbie’s first gay hookup! Barbie’s first, third and fifteenth u-haul! What does it mean for an idea that’s an icon of heterosexuality to become a person who…isn’t straight!

Whether it’s funny or deadly serious, I’m interested in what people imagine might happen if Barbie turns out to be a lesbian, specifically.

Joy Ride (2023)

I can’t be the only one who saw some sexual tension between Lolo and Kat. Do they become rivals for Audrey’s affections? Is it a competition to see how many people they can sleep with (and then they end up sleeping with each other?). Does Kat realize that her hubby is great, but actually can’t keep up with her and has to outsource? The world’s your oyster here, anon!

General Likes:

Emotional introspection from characters

Descriptions of setting, food, sensations, etc

Messy lines between friendship, romantic relationships and sexual relationships

Messy & fucked up power dynamics - Not necessarily dead dove, but any semi-realistic takes on people who, due to their positions, really shouldn’t be doing this

A lot (most?) of my request involve at least one person of color. I like fic that acknowledges that those experiences mean something. I don’t need an anti-racism TED talk or anything, it’s just nice to know that someone’s thinking about that kind of stuff.

Gay shit! Similar to the note above, I’m not looking for a TED talk, but I like fics to contend with what it might mean to be a queer person in the world (if its a canon where that matters)

Smut wise: public sex, sex pollen, ABO (if you’re gonna say something thoughtful about sex/gender/sexuality), casual kink, edging, descriptions of sensation

Tropewise: I like curtainfic, I don’t mind an AU (love mail-order bride AUs, arranged marriage AUs, anything requiring people to get used to each other)

A note on femslash: I’m not interested in fic that’s gender swapped men. Also, I love fic about trans women, but I’m not interested in futa fic.

Hard Nos: * Noncon (Dubcon is fine, but I need there to be clear signs of the no becoming/being a yes) * Underage * Major Character Death (in which they stay dead) * No scat, no puke, no pee, I feel neutral about blood, sweat, spit, etc. Race play, racial slurs being used in non-reclaimed way

General Dislikes: *Purely sweet, fluffy fics *Grimdark, dead dove, trauma for the sake of trauma *High School AUs *Crossovers w other media *Kink being formally negotiated on screen *Kidfic *Pregnancy fic (but I am fine with dealing with an unexpected pregnancy) *Gen fic *COVID mentions are fine, but no COVID plotpoints

[popsicle-parfait]

❗WARNING❗: This is a rant post, you are not obligated to read this but just know that if you do I am not responsible for the feelings you get from it.

Okay, so can we just take a moment to talk about fanfics and their character/ oc development? Today I looked at a fanfic and I saw an oc character sheet, yknow the normal stuff you see when you start reading someone's story. Now this this what ticked me off, it said in the abilities section of the bio "Able to control air and oxygen and any water around him. " now if that wasn't bad enough in the weakness portion of the chapter it said "There's not really a weakness to their abilities". I don't know about you but your dear old pal here HATES overpowered characters with a ridiculous stat ratio. Now this is where the rant starts so excuse anything offensive I say because I'm mad as hell. EXCUSE ME? I'm sorry but if your damn character has the abilities of a whole god and their drawback is a HEADACHE then your oc is just bad. No I'm not kidding, I'm 100% certain on what I'm saying and listen to me when I tell you this, your oc has to have character development and having an op ability set just takes away the whole purpose of that and leaves no room for anything interesting to happen in your fanfic. Have you ever thought of why you lost motivation if your fanfic? Or maybe it hasn't gotten the spice you want in it? IT'S PROBABLY BECAUSE YOUR OC HAS A TRASHY PERSONALITY WITH THE LEG ROOM OF A DAMN OCTOPUS. I'm not gonna sit here and read your story when your oc is all like "Everything is so boring, everyone is so stupid for not seeing that attack coming. You guys are so annoying and I'm better than y'all. I'm just not gonna say anything or contribute to the plot because I know everything already 😩" FUCK OUTTA HERE WITH THAT🤡 I wanna cry so bad because I just can't believe these people really looked at their oc, approved it, then had the nerve to say "He's rude but is really kind" I'M SORRY? Kind???! W H E R E??? PLEASE I BEG OF Y'ALL BALANCE YOUR OCS OUT!!

Okay but seriously if you want some advice here's what's I actually recommend for this type of stuff:

Take a moment and stop what you're writing. I know you have a lot of ideas of what you want in your story but just stop worrying about the plot and think about the oc's your inserting there.

Study your character, think about anime references or other anime characters you want to base your oc off of and get inspiration from that

Next I would recommend to really think about what type of person you want your oc to be and think to yourself "what would I do (or how would I react, ) if I came across this type of person irl?" because to you this character might seem cool but if you look at it at a realistic standpoint they're probably a really horrible/ toxic person.

When you think about your oc's backstory I want you to think about your fandoms universe. What are the basic things that apply to this fandom? What is okay and reasonable enough to fit in this fandom? How would this tie into your fandoms lore? (this also really important because if your fandom is about a highschool anime and your oc is "the demon lord from hell" it wouldn't fit and it just disregards the structure of the anime.) I really want y'all the do some research on the fandom you're inserting your oc into, don't just go in blind.

Another thing would your oc's appearance, face claims are okay. I'm fine with that. But if you don't use face claims and your description of your oc is "black hair, yellow (left) and blue (right) eyes, scars everywhere, bandages everywhere" I'm going to assume your oc is an emo wannabe with an attention problem. Sorry not sorry, hehe~ 😜

Oh, another thing I want y'all to take into consideration is your oc's abilities. I really want you guys to know that it is okay if your oc is "normal". You don't have to give them the backstory of a broken king, you don't have to give them trauma and you don't have to make them "special". Your character is the mc for being themselves, they don't need all of that fancy stuff because even if they're bland they stand out against the original protagonist of the anime. You don't have to make them super edgy or super important because there's a thing called character development. The abilities your oc has (in my opinion at least) must start small. Then as the story continues and as the oc makes more important relationships between themselves and the people around them it gives them time to think about certain things in a new light and that pushes them to want to work hard. (1)

Let's say I have an oc named Oscar or something and they're an insert to the anime My Hero Academia. By me giving them the ability to see the future (please don't take any ideas from this istg) it also means they see the USJ attack and if they predict that very important plot point and inform the main characters about it that basically means that attack wouldn't happen the way it does in the anime. Now there are a lot of factors to be considered in this such as, lida doesn't run to get the pro heroes, All Might doesn't save class 1-A, and Izuku doesn't get the determination he gets to work more on OFA because he doesn't have to worry about All Might being pushed to his limit as severally as he does in canon. Please, I advise you to think about these things. (2)

Thank you for taking your time to read my whole post and let's hope I don't lose followers for this, these types of things need to be thought about and I feel like no one actually takes their time to and just throws whatever character they can come up with in a story. Um... Have a cool pic I guess...

[kooktrash]

14 and jk pls

okay bestie, 14: sleepover and decide to play t or d BUT WITH A TWIST. I got inspo from the CUT game Truth Or Drink, but anyways. hope you like it. omg I’m scared

summary: you’ve been friends with Jungkook for months now, a severe thunderstorm and a drinking game blurs the lines between friendship and more.

warning(s): mature language, college friends, drinking, jungkook is a bit flirty, some of the questions are dirty, implied smut, friends with feeling. Plot with little porn.

truth or drink | jeon jungkook

- “The weather app sucks ass,” he huffed, staring out the window into the thunderstorm waiting for him outside. His eyes shifted down to the app, which changed from a warm night to showcasing clouds of gray and thunder on his screen.

“Severe Thunder Storm warning, if you are from any of the following districts, blah blah blah, remain sheltered from the time being until 6:45am the following day,” you read the weather alert out loud. Jungkook looked back at you, “Um what? I live clear across town, how the hell am I gonna get through that?”

It was true. Your dear friend lived far from your place, and the original plan for the two of you tonight was to study for your Psych exam and then go out for drinks with your friends. It had already been a struggle trying to get him to study, but now he was in an even worse mood because you weren’t going to be able to go out drinking. “Just sleepover crybaby,” you rolled your eyes making yourself comfortable on your couch, “Let’s drink or something.”

“Just us two?” He gnawed on his bottom lip nervously stepping away from the window and looking down at you, “Won’t it be boring?”

“Jieun’s got some drinking games here somewhere, check the media console,” you instructed him, stretching lazily as you pushed yourself up again, “I’ll go find something to drink for us. I think we still have some bottles of Soju laying around.”

“Truth or Drink, what the fuck is that?” Jungkook asked, scooting next to you on the coffee table as he held a little white box. Upon opening it he was met with four different card deck boxes, he read them carefully, “Which one should we do?”

He read the box, Last Call, eyes skimming the quick summary on the back, “Warning, do not play these questions unless it’s very late and you’ve got nothing to lose. Let’s play this one. Wait but it says three or more people.”

You poured Soju into two small glasses, “Yeah it’s to help find winners because the dealer has to choose between two answers. But let’s just play it a different way, there’s usually two questions on a card, we choose the best one, ask the other person and if they can’t answer they drink. And then we can ask the second question if we want to.”

“I need a beginner’s drink real quick,” he chugged down the liquor set in front of them, urging you to do the same, “I want to go first. I just have to pick a card from the pile and ask you?”

You nodded, setting two small piles on the table and waiting for him to decide which one he wants to ask. His eyes widened, “Oh fuck, these questions are heavy. First one and it’s already a lot. Um anyways,” he shook his head as if giving himself motivation, “Does our relationship bring out the best in you? In me? If not, why?”

You thought about it for a moment, “I think, we bring out the best in each other. You���re my best friend and you make me laugh easily and always make me feel comfortable and not a lot of people make me feel that way. I do think I am a better person because of our friendship.”

He wiped at his eye, pretending to shed a tear, “That was beautiful. Okay hurry up, ask me something.” He set the card to the side, waiting patiently for you to choose one. You laughed reading the question, “Who is in control of our relationship?”

“Fuck you, you know you are,” Jungkook huffed crossing his arms in front of him, “Everybody calls me your little puppy. I have separation anxiety it is not my fault.” The two of you chuckled, you watched him reach into the deck again, brows arching as he read, “What am I the most ignorant about?”

You debated answering. There were a few things your friend was ignorant about but you weren’t sure how to say it. In reality the two of you had barely been friends for a little over a year and though you hung out all the time you weren’t sure you were ready to have any deeper conversations. You reached for your drink, taking a drink swiftly ignoring the way his jaw dropped to the floor, “Don’t play with me, answer.”

“I can’t,” you shrugged, “I already took a drink. It’s Truth or Drink, not Truth and Drink.” He leaned forward a little, pout evident on his face, “Please. Please just answer this one. This is the only one I’ll ask you to do.”

“Fine!” You groaned throwing yourself back onto the pillow you set behind you, “I think you can be ignorant when it comes to your looks.” His brows furrowed, turning toward you, tempted to lay down as well. “I mean,” you thought for a moment, “Everyone knows you’re an attractive guy, except you. You’re always complaining about being single or lonely. And I know a ton of girls who’d kill to go on a date with you.”

“Wait,” he shook his head trying to process the information, “You think I’m attractive?” You rolled your eyes, sitting back up with a sigh, “That wasn’t part of the question. My turn.”

You sighed, reading the question out loud, “Do I often seem like I’m being fake?”

He thought for a moment, “Yes. Sometimes I feel like, you don’t really want to be friends with me, or that I annoy you and you just don’t know how to tell me to leave you alone. Or that you just keep me around because you’re bored.”

“Aw,” you frowned, “Oh my god, Kook I’m sorry I make you feel that way. I promise our friendship is 100% real and I am not being fake about it at all.” He smiled widely looking over to the other decks, picking the red one up, “Extra Dirty, let’s play it.”

“No,” you groaned as he changed the mood in the room rather quickly with his distracted mind. He ignored you reading the summary, “Sex, drugs, and rock n roll. All the questions your dark subconscious wants to ask your friends. Yeah let’s play it, the other deck was getting too emotional, can we do this one instead?”

“Fine but if it’s anything too weird I’m just drinking,” you told him. He nodded understandingly as he reached for a card, choking on his own spit for a minute before an evil smile came to his face, “What’s something you wish your ex would have done sexually, but didn’t?”

Fuck. Of course he’d be smiling at this question. Jungkook absolutely hated your ex boyfriend, Hobi. He thought he was rude and sexist and you had to agree just a little. You were friends with Hobi now but he wasn’t the best in a relationship. “Fuck,” you bit your lower lip in concentration, “I’ll tell you but this stays between you and I.”

He stuck his pinky finger out, locking it with yours as he waited eagerly for your answer. You weren’t going to pussy out of a question again so you were just going to say it. “He could never make me cum from eating me out, like never, not even with his fingers,” you hurriedly covered your face with your hands embarrassment filling you as it sat quietly on Jungkook’s end. The breakup was fairly recent so it was still a little awkward and the few hook ups you ve had since then sucked ass. “My turn,” you reached for a card taking his silence as a sign of awkwardness.

Huffing, you read carefully, “Do you find me physically attractive? What if I bat my eyelashes like this?” You did as the card said, batting your lashes at him with innocent and big eyes. He sat for a moment, “Most definitely, he said quickly grabbing another card, “You’re unbelievably attractive. Anyways.”

You could see his tongue push against his cheek, brows knitted together, “What’s your most complimented anatomical feature as described by your lovers?”

You chuckled lightly, “Realistically? Probably my chest.” You caught the way his eyes lingered down for a moment, face softening as he nodded his head. You giggled looking down at the card you just picked from the pile, “Are you loud during sex? Demonstrate with a dramatic interpretation of your signature sounds.”

“I’m drinking,” he mumbled but you shook your head laughing. “No no, you had me answer a question after I drank so I’m gonna do the same. I really want to hear what you got.” He groaned, covering his face in his hands, “Give me a minute, let me take this drink first.”

“Okay so,” he cleared his throat, “I wouldn’t say I’m loud, but I’m not quiet either. I think it also depends on what we’re doing. I’m louder when I’m getting my dick sucked, and it kinda sounds like, um,” he paused for a second. Breathing getting heavier as he began to show you, his mouth fell open, small whines leaving his lips followed by a couple grunts, “Fuck! Okay I’m done. Let me pick a damn card.”

You bursted out laughing as his ears turned a dark red. “It’s getting serious,” you giggled not noticing the way his embarrassed expression turned into a sly smirk, “Got your ass bestie, now it’s your turn. Give a passionate example of your dirty talk.”

You threw yourself back dramatically, debating on taking a drink or not. He smiled, “If you drink you’re a pussy.” “Fine hold on,” you say up scooting closer to him. Clearing your throat, you touched his shoulder lightly, bringing yourself closer to his ear too scared to say it loud so you chose to whisper instead. “You have really pretty hands Kook,” you started. He tensed underneath you for a moment, “I wouldn’t mind having them wrapped around my neck here and there.” Maybe it was the liquor already in your system but this wasn’t as embarrassing as you thought it’d be, and the goosebumps on his skin were making you want to say just a little bit more before it ended.

“And your fingers are so long and pretty,” you looked down at his tattooed hand, “I wonder how they’d feel all over me— Okay I’m done! My turn,” you grabbed a card, ignoring his silent stance. “If we were in a porn together, what category would it be under?”

He cleared his throat sitting straighter as he recollected himself, “Probably something along the lines of, ‘College Hunk Destroys Bratty Girl’ yeah that’d definitely be it.”

“You’re annoying,” you rolled your eyes as he went on for his turn, reading it loudly, “Are you a good kisser? If so, demonstrate.”

“It does not say that,” you muttered. You knew for a fact it didn’t. When Jieun got the game the two of you read every card in every deck and none of them were that suggestive. They said crazy things but nothing that involved intimate physical contact with someone else playing. “It does,” Jungkook said as matter-of-fact. “Okay then show me where it says that.”

“No.”

“Then you’re a liar,” you reached for the card but he held it away, “If you’re a bad kisser just say that Y/n.”

“I’m not!” You whined stretching forward for the card, hand pushing in his knee. He smiled at you, holding the card high as your faces were just a mere inches away from each other, “Well then demonstrate or take the L.” You sighed, hands using his legs to push yourself forward. He stared down at you, arm slowly lowering but his grip on the card was tight in case you tried snatching it out. You looked down at his parted and waiting lips, debating if you should actually go for it.

You were both a little tipsy, and you could always just blame your kiss on the alcohol. It wasn’t like you never thought about Jungkook in that way but you did your best to keep it as a simple friendship. Getting the courage, your back arched slightly as you leaned up to connect your lips with his softly. It was a soft kiss, his lips mets yours immediately going in for it. It wasn’t anything special but he was very obviously a good kisser. When you felt him dip in to further the kiss you attempted to pull away, his following lips going after you. Before you could catch your breath after your separation, his hand dropped the card, Both hands flying to your jaw and cupping your face in his hands as he pulled you in again.

You fell forward, hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. His large hands were soft, the pad of his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he pushed his tongue against you. You opened your mouth a little more allowing him access. Your could hear buzzing in the back, but as you tried to pull away, Jungkook only held you closer. You didn’t mind though, if you would’ve known kissing your best friend felt this good, you might’ve tried it sooner. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling you swiftly onto his lap, as he leaned back against the legs of the couch. You pressed yourself closer deepening the kiss as your hands grinned onto his hair lightly. His hands brushed your sides and under your shirt. His cold hands on your bare stomach surprised you, the hand gripping a lock of hair pulled causing him to let out a breathy groan.

He pushed you down onto the floor, hovering above you as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands pushed your shirt up, kisses trailing down your jaw and neck, “If you don’t want this, tell me now because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“I want you,” you told him as he looked down at you with doe eyes. “I want you too.”

yoongi: i got locked out of my place. ur at y/n’s right? can I come over?

yoongi: hellooooo

yoongi: ANSWER YOUR PHONE

yoongi: if I catch a cold I’m suing fat

A/n OKAY LISTEN. I wanted to put smut in but I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with that so I chose not to. I hope you like it, and I can always do a Drabble with smut if that’s something you want. Thank you for requesting bestie, and DONT BE SHY

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Enchantment

Rowaelin Month, Day 20

Playing with Magic @rowaelinscourt

Rowaelin Month Masterlist//Main Masterlist//Fluff//1462 words

“Where in the world could she be?” Aelin asked frantically, running her hands through her hair anxiously.

Rowan shook his head. “Aelin… I’m so sorry… but I don’t think we’ll ever find her. She’s gone for good.”

Aelin gasped. “She can’t be. Don’t give up, Rowan; she’s our little girl!”

A mournful sigh left Rowan’s mouth. “Fireheart, I know you love her, and I do too, but we have to be realistic.”

Aelin covered her face with her hands. “I miss her already.”

Rowan’s lips twitched, and Aelin knew he was holding back a laugh. She pressed her own lips together to keep her face as melancholy as possible.

“Me too,” was all he could manage, hand going to his mouth to cover a snort.

Aelin grinned. “This is all your fault. If you had never suggested hide and seek, we never would have lost Nora in the first place.”

“My fault? How could you?” Rowan clutched his chest dramatically.

Aelin turned away, crossing her arms. “I don’t think I can stand to look at you anymore, you bastard. Leave me be.”

She watched in the mirror she was facing as Rowan sent a wink her way. “As you wish, my queen. I’ll pack my things immediately.”

Rowan turned and started for the door. Instead of passing the pair of shoes sticking out from under the bed, he paused. “Are these…” He paused dramatically. “Nora’s shoes?”

“All we have left of her,” Aelin replied, sniffling.

A muffled wheezing sound came from under the bed, and Aelin and Rowan exchanged a smile.

“I better get them, dear. If we leave them here, someone could trip over them.”

Aelin finally turned around. “As you wish.”

Upon hearing that the shoes were going to be picked up, they retracted farther under the bed, frantically trying to disappear. But Rowan was too fast for the shoes. He grabbed them, pulling a squealing child out from under the bed.

“Nora!” Aelin cried. “My gods, I thought we’d lost you forever!”

Nora, still on her back with her shiny red shoes in Rowan’s hands, stuck her tongue out at her mother. “No you didn’t, Mom, you’re the worst actor ever.”

Aelin gasped in indignation. “You slanderous little worm. Why, I’ll teach you to speak to the queen in that manner.”

She marched over, suppressing a grin once more as Nora squealed again and wiggled her feet free from Rowan’s grasp. She tried to stand, but Aelin swooped down on her and picked her up effortlessly.

“What will the punishment be?” Aelin asked in mock reprimand. “A visit to the dungeons? One thousand push-ups? Chocolate for dinner?”

“Mm, that last one sounds pretty good to me,” Nora said thoughtfully, dangling in Aelin’s arms.

“Mala spare me,” Rowan muttered.

Mother and daughter sent matching smirks to Rowan, only smiling harder as he said something along the lines of, “I hate it when you two do that.”

“Well, now that hide and seek has brought us the tragedy of thinking our daughter was gone forever”—Nora stuck out her tongue again—“why don’t we find something else to do?”

There was no pause between Aelin’s question and the squirming little girl saying, “Oh, we can practice magic. Please? Please, please, please?” Nora stared right into Aelin’s eyes. “Please, Mama,” she whispered.

Aelin laughed. “Of course we can. But we better get out of the castle, away from collateral.”

Nora nodded seriously, probably unsure of what “collateral” meant but too stubborn to admit it.

Aelin set her daughter on the ground. “Race you down to the courtyard,” she said.

And Nora was off, sprinting out the door and down the stairs.

Rowan chuckled. “She’s a handful, alright.”

“But she’s our handful,” Aelin said primly.

Rowan snorted. “You’re so cheesy.”

Aelin flashed a smile. “Race you down to the courtyard,” she repeated in a soft murmur, a flirty undertone in her voice.

Both of them knew the fastest way was not the stairs, as Nora had gone, but out the window and straight down. Rowan could fly, of course, so Aelin made sure to swing a foot out and knock him off his feet before jogging to the window. She smirked to herself as Rowan cursed her name.

Aelin may not be able to fly, but agility was second nature to her. She kept herself in shape, always training with Rowan, working for every muscle on her body, pushing herself to get better. Aelin hadn't quite been prepared for the pregnancy with Nora, and she’d had many days where helplessness had wracked her brain until the only thought in her head was that she was weak.

After all, some scars never heal.

But she’d finally given birth to the joy that was their daughter, and Aelin had started training all over again. She and Rowan had discussed more children, and firmly decided to wait a while longer until Aelin was ready again, which is why they only had the one child, nearly eight years old.

And the past eight years had made Aelin more physically able than she’d ever been, a feat of nature. She may not have wings as her mate did, but the way she climbed down the many stories, hanging from terraces and dropping from ledges, could almost be considered flying.

Aelin was nearing the bottom when a white-tailed hawk sailed out of the bedroom window. She went as far as to raise her middle finger before dropping the last story and a half, rolling, and rising with ethereal grace.

Aelin was too busy smirking at her husband as he dived to the ground to notice the little munchkin charging her way. One minute she was mouthing loser to the skies, as immature as ever, and the next a small form was clinging to her side.

“I almost won!” Nora yelled, desperate for some form of credit.

Aelin grinned and ruffled the short silver locks she’d inherited from her father. “Yes you did, dear.”

“I want to set something on fire,” Nora declared blatantly.

“Just like her mother,” an amused, but slightly concerned, voice said from beside them. Rowan had shifted back into his Fae form.

Aelin sent him an innocent smile. “What do you want to set on fire, Nora?”

“Don’t answer that,” Rowan cut in immediately. “Let’s start with something… unlikely to be needed in the future.”

Aelin snorted. “Boring old man,” she said, and Nora giggled, earning a faux wounded expression from Rowan.

Aelin pulled something out of her pocket.

“Tell me that’s not Darrow’s latest decree,” Rowan said in exasperation, already knowing the answer.

Aelin shot him a smile. “Something unlikely to be needed in the future, exactly as you wished, my darling.”

Rowan shook his head, lips twitching slightly.

Aelin unrolled the scroll and held it out, stepping away from Nora. She sent a nod her daughter’s way.

Nora got into defensive position—her parents’ child for sure—and furrowed her brow. She’d played with her magic plenty of times before, but she was still learning how to control it, particularly the small amount of fire she’d inherited from her mother. She had a far greater amount of ice powers from Rowan, and better control over them as well—which made burning things all the more fun, in Aelin’s opinion.

Nora stared holes into the parchment, but nothing happened. Rowan came up behind her and bent down to whisper something in her ear, and the tenderness of the gesture melted Aelin’s heart. Nora nodded in determination once Rowan was done and squinted.

Her focus seemed to have improved with Rowan’s instruction, for smoke started rising from the paper. Nora smiled in delight and the whole thing burst into flames without warning. Aelin grinned and held the scroll as it turned into ash in her hand.

“Lovely, Nora.”

Darrow would not be pleased. What a productive day this was turning into.

Nora clapped her hands excitedly. She spun around, the ground starting to turn frosty at her feet. The wind whipped, and Aelin shared a proud look with Rowan as ice scread across the courtyard.

Nora’s power was limited, and the ice couldn’t quite reach the edges of the courtyard. Aelin felt Rowan’s ice freeze the whole thing over thicker in addition to expanding it, and all of a sudden, they were standing on their own little ice rink.

Nora squealed, quite possibly unaware her father had helped out. She laughed—then yelped as she slid onto her bottom. Nora quickly got back to her feet, just as capable as her father and persistent as her mother.

Aelin slid lazily over to Rowan, still watching their daughter spin and skate around. “I love you.”

He smiled, lifting a thumb to Aelin’s cheek. “I love you too.”

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@morganofthewildfire

@nehemikkele

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowaelinismyotp

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thenerdandfandoms

@yesdreamblog

[caker-baker]

The Fall Guy

Ah, hell. Maybe the hero didn’t think this through. This was more of a myth than anything, if myth was the right word.

Or maybe it was just a pizza place and the hero was overthinking things.

Regardless, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Uh, hi.” The hero greeted the lanky cashier. “Can I get the hero’s special? I’m willing to pay extra.”

The cashier regarded this with a blink, then another, then finally, to finish off his grand display of emotion, he sighed.

“With or without the ‘save the day’ toppings?”

The hero scrambled to remember what to say. “With, please.”

Now with mild interest, the cashier leaned over. “Down that way, second door on your left.”

“Thank you.” The hero said with narrowed eyes.

Holy hell, that whole interaction felt like a strange dream that was a little too realistic. And that cashier was a bit too intrigued.

Jesus, their heart was beating in their ears at this point.

It could all be a lie, all of it, this could all be an intricate and carefully crafted lie told by a villain, made to lure in unsuspecting heroes to their deaths.

Too late now, their hand was already turning the handle.

Where the hero was expecting some small room that fit logistically with the rest of the joint, there were stairs.

No, they didn’t like this at all. But what was the choice, go down there, or go back outside?

Downstairs it was.

Surprisingly, it got lighter, and larger, a hard contrast to the ominous setting. And with the light came music. Something very upbeat, lots of drums and guitars, and loud.

With their final step, the hero was able to see the cause of the music, two large speakers attached to a phone.

They also got to see the apparent villain, sitting and humming along to the beat.

“Hello?”

The villain, who’s head snapped up, reached to turn down the music before turning around.

If the hero was unsure before, they definitely were unsure now. They couldn’t help being nervous as an oil stained face looked them up and down.

“I know you.” The villain finally said.

“You do?”

The villain hummed in thought. “You were the one involved in the bridge incident two weeks ago, yeah?”

A strange bout of pain overcame the hero.

“Yeah, that was me.”

“Well, no need to look all guilty about it.” The villain stood from their stool, still shielding whatever caused the oil on their face. “Everyone screws up. Is that why you want to leave?”

“No! I’m not running away from that, I’m running away from-”

“You’re getting away from the heroing part. I get it.” The villain reached behind them, grabbing measuring tape. “Mind if I get your measurements?”

“What for?”

“The decoy. Did whoever told you about this not tell you about how it works?” The villain spoke while they untangled the tape.

“No. I didn’t even know if this was real. I thought the cashier was just annoyed by me.”

“Yeah, Paul, he’s just judgy.” The villain stepped closer. “Step on this.”

The hero put a foot on one end of the measuring tape while the villain pulled the rest of it up to the top of the hero’s head.

“Thanks.”

The villain seemed fine in silence, the hero, however, felt like their whole being was vibrating with questions.

When the villain moved away, the hero felt themself breathe out heavily.

“You alright there?” The villain asked, turning away to write something down. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous.”

The hero chuckled awkwardly. “It wouldn’t be very heroic if I was, would it?”

Turning around again, the villain spoke. “Well, considering you won’t be a hero much longer, I won’t hold it against you.”

It all seemed to fall out of the hero at once, words carefully hidden away now in full sight.

“I didn’t even want to be a hero, then one day I was drafted. I don’t know how they found out what I could do, I never registered. All I wanted was to keep my head down, but suddenly I was out with the big leagues.”

Several creases had formed on the hero’s head.

“And then the tracking, oh, God, the tracking. I went out for fast food once without telling anyone, just for a moment of peace, and it was like the world imploded.”

The villain rested their chin in their hand, nodding emphatically every once in a while.

“You know there’s three days of training before they shove you into the world. They don’t care what you run into, as long as you defeat it. ‘Real heroes don’t run’ type bullshit. Ironically, that’s the most freedom we get, going up against something or someone three times our sizes.”

The villain turned their head to the side.

“And there’s a seminar on meeting foreign dignitaries! Meetings on how to address the general public, correct customs for different world leaders. Jesus, I don’t even get a choice on where I stay! I could be shipped off to Japan tomorrow.”

The hero stopped, their eyes glazing over with a strange numbness.

“Then I messed up, put on house arrest. God, that’s the happiest I’ve been in a while. Of course, I did have to beg to go and get ‘pizza’, even after the house arrest. That was the only downside, I guess.”

A beat.

“Are you finished?” The villain asked.

A brilliant scarlet color bloomed across the hero’s face. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

The villain waved them off. “Happens to nearly every one of my customers, sometimes the best therapy is just venting to the fall guy.”

“Fall guy?” The hero echoed, eyebrows furrowing.

That made the villain pause. “Yes? If this was all found out, who do you think would take the fall? Paul?” They laughed.

“Are you never, I don’t know, worried about being caught?”

The villain shrugged half heartedly. “Well, last time it happened, I just packed it up and moved. This time I had to make it pizza. Used to be donuts.” Their lips pursed. “I miss the donuts.”

The hero opened their mouth, then closed it again, trying to figure something out.

“What if-” Those weren’t quite the right words. “What happens if one of your, ah, customers gets loose lips, talks to the wrong person?”

“That, my dear hero, is a matter of trust. And it helps I am financially gifted, powerful. It’s a matter of who would last longer, and it will always be me.”

“I see.”

The villain leaned against their work table. “Hey, do me a favor.”

“Sure.”

“Can you portal something?”

The hero blinked, not expecting that. “Depends on what and how far.”

“Yourself, to a rendezvous point, say, oh, twenty six miles from here.”

The villain was grinning, waiting patiently for the hero to realize their plan.

“You use the heroes who come here, their powers to help them.” They concluded.

“While my decoys certainly do last quite a while, it’s not forever, and heroes often don’t realize the assets they have available. Speaking of, how come you haven’t tried it?”

The hero swallowed. “Portalling a living person is complicated.”

At that, the villain motioned with their hand, urging the hero to tell them what they weren’t saying.

“And,” the hero began. “my portals don’t like technology. The tracker in me could malfunction, electrocuting me before I get all the way through.”

“How did you learn that?” The villain asked, turning to scribble something down.

“The bridge incident was my first mistake as a hero, not a person.”

The villain let out a laugh. “Seems you’re just as morally gray as me.”

“It’s why I can’t be a hero.”

The villain smirked at the self righteousness of the hero, who probably didn’t even realize they were being self righteous.

“And the tracker,” the villain switched subjects. “standard GIM-14U?”

Wait, something wasn’t adding up here. There was something too certain, too familiar about the way it rolled off the villain’s tongue.

“How’d you know?”

The villain tensed, as if they hadn’t expected anyone to pick up in their certainty.

“My clientele often times have the same one.”

“And?” The hero prodded.

They could hear the villain mumble a curse under their breath.

“I used to have one. First prototype, in fact.”

Something else didn’t add up. The first GIM-14U came out several years ago, when the hero was a kid. The villain was barely older than the hero, maybe the same age. Why did the villain have one when it just came out?

It took a moment too long to realize. “You were the child prodigy, the one who vanished.”

The villain did a mock bow, their muscles relaxing slightly. “In the flesh, although technically, I’m M.I.A.”

“Oh, God. Now you-now you get other heroes out.” The hero almost laughed. “That’s genius, it’s the perfect payback, it’s-”

“What makes you think it’s payback? Maybe I just like helping people.” The villain had a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, oh, gosh. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

The villain held up a hand. “It’s a little bit payback.”

A familiar shade of scarlet crept across the hero’s face, and the former prodigy decided they liked that.

“Now this part is the part most of my customers don’t like - waiting. Your decoy will most likely only take two months. In that time, you need to work on your portalling.” The villain made sure to hold the hero in their gaze. “I will contact you when and where to meet and set up the decoy. I already have your information.”

“How do you-”

“Door frame. Like a metal detector, but more precise. If you are registered on any system anywhere, I’ll know you.”

The hero had relief coming off them in waves. Two months, and all they had to do was practice some portals. And do some heroing, but they could manage.

“You know, you interrupt people a lot.” The tone was joking, and the hero was far too busy trying to contain a smile, there was no time for chiding.

“So I’ve been told.” The villain did smile. “Now, about my payment.”

“Right.” For a second, the hero fumbled around in their pockets, before pulling out a wad of cash.

The villain took it, and began counting the bills, their eyes getting wider.

“‘I’m willing to pay extra’ is just part of the code. You know that, don’t you?”

The hero shrugged. “Do you not want it?”

In the blink of an eye, the money was pocketed by the villain. “I didn’t say that. Pleasure doing business with you.”

The hero nodded, and turned on their heel, then stopped suddenly to ask one final question.

“If you know everyone from the door frame, why bother with the measuring ordeal?”

“Gets people to open up, relax a bit.”

Oh. That was sweet.

“You aren’t a bad person, are you?” Asked the hero.

“Hey now, don’t go telling everybody. My scary reputation could be ruined.”

The hero, a ghost of a smile on their lips, left, back up the stairs, through the pizza place.

Two months.

[star-lemonade]

The Altar

Ateez San x Reader

Genre: smut, candy shop au

Cw: smut, San likes it when you say his name

Rating: R

Word count: 5 k

Thanks to @yutasgalaxy​ for giving feedback. I changed a lot since you read it xD

“You should really go there.”

Your friend’s voice still rang in your ears. These words had been said to you so often lately. Your friend had heard good things about it, although you suspected it was first-hand experience. You felt frustrated about the lack of men in your life. It was hard to meet someone new and the few times you had actually met a nice guy, they had not been interested in you. Afterwards you felt the drought in your bed even more than usual. Maybe it was time. Time to go there. The Candy Shop.

You went to the address your friend provided. That was the first unusual thing. When you had looked for it online, you had not been able to find an address. How could there be a place that can not be found on the internet? The building was as mundane as a grey house between other grey houses could be. The entrance did not look like a shop either. The window next to the door was small and drapes obscured the view inside. Only the “open” sign at the door indicated that this was the right place.

You opened the door, and a bell announced your entrance to the empty room. It was a small space for a store, and it was filled to the brim with boxes. Boxes on shelves, boxes on the floor, in giant box towers, boxes hanging in nets from the ceiling. The oddest thing was their color; all of the boxes were the same warm grey. No writing. No pictures. How did anyone know what was inside the boxes? Maybe I’m wrong here? You turned to leave.

“Oh, there you are.”

The voice came from behind you and it sounded familiar. The woman looked exactly how you remembered her, Ms Lee, who had been your homeroom teacher in middle school. She wore a tie-dye tank top that showed off her wrinkly arms.

“Ms Lee?”

She smiled like a proud mother, not something you wanted to see in a sex toy shop. Her smile had always been an attractive feature of her. You could see why she had been the most popular widow at the school.

“No, dear. I’m the Owner.”

Even her voice sounded the same. At least you thought she sounded like Ms Lee. On the other hand it had been years since you had see her.

“Oh, excuse me.”

You could have sworn that she was your old teacher, but she was not. Good. Imagine running into your old teacher in a shop like this. Awkward.

“Ehm, I’m looking for something.”

There was no point in feeling embarrassed now. You had already entered the sex shop, but you still felt your face burn. If you act awkward, it will just be more embarrassing. Get it together! You were about to elaborate further when she said:

“Of course. I think I have just the thing. Follow me.”

How could the owner sound so confident, when you had not given her any information? She turned around and walked to the counter in the back of the shop, and you followed. Surprisingly the counter was not made out of boxes stacked on top of each other but from wood.

“Wait here, please.”

The Owner went behind the counter and left through a door. The side room too seemed to be filled with boxes, as much as you could see of it. You still wondered how she knew what was in each box. Did they all have the same things inside? Maybe there had been a shipment of something, and now it clogged up the place? She returned with a smile on her face.

“Here.”

She held the thing out for you, and without thinking, you took it from her. Why did you do that?

“A walking stick?”

The long wooden stick was knobbly and looked like it had been a small tree that someone debarked. It was not carved but it had grown relatively straight. The surface was polished and waxed, shining in the dim light of the shop.

“Yes. You should go and have a picnic.”

You stared at the stick and back to her incredulously. This must be a joke.

“But-”

“No problem,” The Owner waved you off. “That’s on the house. Have fun.”

She smiled before leaving through the door behind the counter. The lock clicked into place you were alone with your stick.

“...should I stick this in my butt or what?”

You shouted after her but the Owner did not return. Reluctantly, you left and went home.

That night you had a dream about your childhood house where your parents used to live. It was small and cozy in a tiny town near the mountains.

The mountains.

Yes, you missed going up the hidden paths to the tops of the small mountains. The forest that covered them had been your place to play when you had lived there. You had spent the years of your childhood running around in the undergrowth. In your dream the sun was shining from a bright blue sky that only came in autumn. You walked up the mountain as you had done many times. It was not clear to you if this was a memory or not but you almost felt the sun burn on your face. You reached the top of the mountain in what felt like a record time. Here stood a bench that overlooked the valley and your hometown. It was beautiful.

When you woke up, the dream had left a hole in you. You yarned for the home, that was not your home any more. You decided that you would go there.

Today. Now.

You got dressed, packed an overnight bag and ate a big breakfast. The ride to the town would take two hours, but you did not know if you would be able to return to your apartment in time. Hiking was exhausting and maybe you would be too tired to drive back to the city.

You grabbed the walking stick and went to your car. The drive was familiar. You had done it lots of times. Today the time flew and you found yourself pulling into the parking lot of the only supermarket of your hometown.

Maybe I should get some food? I will be hungry when I’m up there. You looked at the mountain that barely classified as one. Today the air was humid and mist hung over the forest beyond the town limits. Thegrey sky looked about ready to release more on the land. You did not really pay attention to what you bought. The old man at the counter looked up and smiled. You paid and left the store.

The parking lot where the hiking paths started was empty. It had just rained and most people had stayed at home. You packed the food and drinks into your backpack.

The path was slippery and your shoes sank a few centimeters with every step. This made the hike much harder and slower than you had expected. You knew the path well, even after all this time, your body moved on its own now. Pulling one foot out of the mud and planting it further up the path. Repeat with the other foot. In the forest you saw some trees that had fallen over. This was always the case of course but they were different from last time you had been here.

Some time later you found yourself at a bench, and stopped there to drink something. The next part would be a bit steeper so you pulled out the walking stick.

The ground was wet and the path was getting muddier the higher up you went. Maybe I should take a short cut to the top? If you went straight through the trees here, you would be there faster than following the path. You were impatient today and turned left into the forest.

The ground here was less muddy but you had to step more carefully. Holes in the ground could be hidden by dead leaves and small plants. Breaking your ankle in the middle of the forest did not sound like a good idea. The forest smelled of the herbs that grew all over the place. You considered picking some of them, but you were not sure which ones were really eatable. Ahead the trees grew less dense.

In the glade you saw something and walked closer to check it out. It was a slab of stone that was overgrown by moss and vines. You examined the stone closer and you noticed the top was smooth and the sides were covered in patterns. It was not an ordinary stone; It was an altar.

The altar of a forgotten deity. Lost in the forest and being consumed by nature without the care of the believers.

I don’t believe in gods, but it feels like I should pay my respects. You never know.

You set your backpack down next to the altar and picked up a stick that was lying on the ground. The moss grew mostly on the sides which would not be easy to clean but the top should be easier. You used the stick to scrape off the vines and grime that had accumulated there. It did not come off well but at least the altar looked a bit better than before. You drank some water from your bottle and looked into your backpack.

Maybe I should leave some offerings too?

You picked up a leaf and used it as a makeshift plate for the rice. The red apple and one of the little desserts would have to do.

“Have a good day.”

You returned to the car without having been to the top. It was still light outside so you decided to drive back to your apartment. You felt exhausted but you really wanted to sleep in your own bed.

When you arrived the sun had set and you were about to fall asleep. You fell into your bed and passed out, sleeping like the proverbial stone.

The next day was Sunday which was good. No work. No need to get out of bed either.

You showered, made yourself a quick breakfast and got back under your warm blanket. Sunday morning was the perfect time to do nothing. You turned on the tv and continued to watch the drama you had started the prior week.

The couple got together in this episode and it made you feel so single. Seeing them kiss on screen made you miss kissing. Yeah, just kissing. What a lie. You paused the video. Maybe I should watch some porn instead? It still bugged you that your trip to the Candy Shop had been so fruitless. Why did you get a walking stick? The stick. You had not taken it with you. It was probably still next to the altar in the forest. Ah, well, my dildo will have to do. Getting off with it was nice, but it was not the same as having sex with a guy. For a moment you thought about the pretty male lead in the drama. How nice it would be to run your hands over his face and body. Sadly, this was not very realistic. I will go on tinder on Monday.

“Is it too much to ask for a cute, caring boyfriend to have hot sex with?”

You groaned and looked at the ceiling as if that was where your fate would be decided. It did not answer.

“That’s your wish‽”

You almost jumped out of bed. The voice came from your right, the side of the bed that had just been empty. It was not anymore. The man blended into the white sheets with his white clothing. Your heart hammered in your chest.

“What the fuck?!” You shouted. “How did you get in here? Who are you? Get out!”

You backed away. There was no bed left behind you. You fell over backwards but did not hit the ground. Your hand was caught in an iron grip.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

The man pulled you back into the bed. It brought you close to him. He had long hair that was tied at the top of his head. Something you expected to see in a historical drama not in your bedroom. He had a stunningly beautiful face. Intense eyes, full lips and a sharp jawline.

Why are all hot guys psychos?

“Let go!”

“You will fall again.”

His voice was so gentle it made your heart skip a beat. It was familiar, like a deja vu. This was not someone you had met before, but it still seemed like you knew him. Get it together, the guy broke into your house, don’t be lulled in by his looks.

“How did you get in here?”

You did not know what to do. He held your wrists in his hands, but you backed away as far as possible. Was he going to do something to you?

“I followed you. Yesterday.”

He said it as if it was the normal thing in the world. You stared at him, open mouthed. He had been here since yesterday? Your blood turned to ice. His grip was still holding your wrists. If he had not you would have fallen out of bed now.

“You cleaned the altar so nicely it woke me up from my sleep. It’s been ages since anyone left an offering there.”

The altar. How did he know about that? There had been no one there aside from you.

“Let me go and leave.”

He stared into your eyes. Nothing was hidden from that stare. You wanted to look away but could not. As if hypnotized you stared into his eyes. They were not brown as you had assumed, but a very dark green, like the pine trees at night.

“That’s not what you wished for.”

He kissed one of your hands. His lips were soft but the gesture sent a shiver down your spine. Some part of you was responding to his touch while your higher reasoning was screaming to get away.

“Who are you?”

Your voice was only a whisper, but in the quiet room it was as loud as a scream. He looked at you, reading your face like a book. You did not know if it would be better to show your fear or hide it. What would make him leave?

“I am the mountain.”

He puffed out his chest a bit as he said that. The mountain. What kind of name was that? You had known everyone who had lived in your hometown and no one was called San. Maybe he was a tourist who happened to be in the forest? Then it struck you. The altar. The mountain, San. This man was not a man at all. He was the god of the mountain and you had brought him to your home. That’s what you get from being nice, an uninvited guest. Great.

“And I decided to grant your wish.”

You were not ready to process any new information, but here he was, talking. Was it even possible that this man was the god of the mountain? No one had seen you in the forest. You had been alone yesterday evening and just now when you had made breakfast, the door had still been locked. So unless he broke into your apartment just now… no, you had not heard or seen anything out of the ordinary.

“You doubt me.”

San was clearly disappointed in your lack of faith. He stared at you, waiting for you to explain yourself. You had every right to be suspicious of some random dude who claimed to be a god.

“Yes.”

He nodded slowly and looked around your bedroom. The little pout on his face made him look cuter and less scary, but he was still plenty scary. He let go of your hands and left the room. Maybe I should run for it. You sprang from the bed and in a few steps you were at the bedroom door. Where you almost ran into San. He was both taller and shorter than you had expected. Just like the mountain. His legs were longer than usual for someone his height.

“Here.”

In his hand was the basil plant you had bought a few days ago. It did not look too hot. The leaves had started to hang down and some were already crumpeling.

“Yeah, I should throw it out...”

San was appalled.

“But it’s still alive!! Look!”

He stared at the plant and it became healthy again. With your mouth open you stared at the plant. Its leaves were full and beautifully green again. The smell of basil filled the room.

“So you believe me now?”

The smug smile on his face was almost too much. You nodded reluctantly. San brought the plant back to the kitchen, while you sank down on the bed. There is a deity in my apartment. San sat down on the bed next to you.

“So, what was my wish?”

What dumb shit have I wished for? A smile so mischievous it made the hairs in your neck stand appeared on his face. He leaned closer and whispered in your ear:

“Hot sex.”

Oh fuck. The reason why you had gone to the Candy Shop had been to get something nice for you. It had been so long since you had been with someone. Sex with a good looking guy sounded so good. San was here and he was offering to give you what you wanted. But wait.

“Didn’t I say “a cute boyfriend”?”

San pursed his lips. “Technically, you did. ‘Cute and caring’”

“So, then where is my boyfriend?”

You pushed your jaw forward in a defiant manner. If you were going to get your wish, it had to be the right one. There was no way he could just make a guy appear out of thin air, could he?

“Am I not cute?”

The fake outrage in his voice was indeed cute, but hell would freeze over before you would admit that.

“What? Are you saying you will be my boyfriend?”

He stared at you and you stared back. It was totally absurd. San could not seriously mean he would be your boyfriend, right?

“Yes.”

You honestly did not have a comeback to that. San had said it like he meant it. I guess he didn’t have to make someone appear out of thin air after all. He is already here.

“Can I change my wish?”

You did not look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you. It had been a mistake, actually several mistakes. You should not have gone to the mountain, or cleaned the altar.

“Do you dislike me this much?”

San sounded almost hurt. What had he expected? That you would just lay down and spread your legs?

“You just showed up here, unannounced. What am I supposed to-“

You stopped yourself. Maybe it was not a good idea to yell a god. It was unclear what he could do besides making plants grow and looking good. San shifted beside you and when you looked at him, he lay on your bed.

“What can I do to make you more comfortable?”

He looked up at you. In that position, one arm probed up holding his head, he reminded you of the old timey rich people lounging on chairs.

“Why do you want to grant me a wish anyways?”

He hesitated. You had asked a sensitive question.

“I am in your debt.”

“Then make me rich and rest peacefully that you have settled your debt.”

You turned more towards him. He pressed his lips together into a thin line. You had to be careful now with your tone. One wrong word now could have bad consequences, so you just looked at him.

“I can’t do that.”

He pressed the words out and avoided your eyes. The fabric of the sheets was suddenly much more interesting. You wondered if he was telling the truth. Why was he insisting on this stupid wish you had made.

“What is in it for you? If you tell me honestly, I will consider it.”

His eyes flickered to your face before studying the sheets again.

“I can leave the mountain.”

He told the bed. “No one believes in me anymore...”

You wondered what the consequences of that were, but now was not the time to ask. So if he played house with you he could stay out here, instead of being alone in the forest. You were sick of being alone too. All the times you had felt lonely, may come to an end now, if you just said yes to San.

“If I said yes, what would happen?”

He tried to hide his relief, his hope, but failed. A smile appeared on his face. San sat up and his eyes sparkeled with delight and mischief.

“I would grant the more pressing part of your wish first.”

You wrinkled your brows. The more pressing part? He leaned closer and whispered in a velvety voice.

“You want to be licked, to ride on a big cock and be pounded until you come. That's the pressing part.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Yes, that was exactly what you wanted. In that order. He looked into your eyes. The more you looked at him the more beautiful he became. Just this once you did not want to overthink everything.

“So, what do you say?”

“What will happen after that?” You could feel his breath on your neck. His lips brushed over your skin. You swallowed audibly.

“I will do anything you want me to do.”

To make his point he kissed your neck. Gently sucking on the sensitive skin there. You move your head to grant him better access. His lips on you made your head spin already. Who would it be if they were somewhere else?

“Okay.”

You sighed and bit your lips. It was time to embrace this weird situation and be bold.

“Eat me out, San.”

He groaned against your skin, when you said his name. His lips landed on yours and he wasted no time. His tongue begged for entrance, sliding over your lips. You were not sure what you had expected, but you were surprised by how normal his mouth felt. San was warm and smelled of the forest after rain.

Your hands buried themselves in his long hair. You thought about untying it but it would be better to wait a bit longer. His Hands slipped under the hem of your pajama pants and between your legs. You gasped as his fingers touched your clit and slipped into you briefly.

“Apparently I will have to do a bit more to get you riled up, my love.”

San smirked at you and positioned himself between your legs. He made sure that he had your attention before he untied the fastings of his jacket. He did not wear anything under it so you had an unobscured view of his body; and what a nice body it was. The way his upper body tempered towards his waist was breathtaking. You wanted to touch him, ran your hands over his body. Right now was not the time though.

He pulled down your pants and kissed your thighs. San did not waste time and went straight to the point. He sucked and licked your clit, slowly circling it before flicking it with his tongue. You grabbed his hair and he smirked against your skin. His tongue moved down, ran around your entrance and dipped in briefly before moving up again. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, your moan quietly. You wanted to close your eyes and concentrate on the feeling of tongue flicking against you, but you also wanted to see him. He slowed the pace down and licked your clit. You felt his fingers circling your entrance before pushing in. The two fingers barely met any resistance and after a few more slow movements he pulled out.

He kissed the inside of your thighs and you groaned. That was not where you wanted his mouth to be.

“How about you ride me now?”

He looked up at you expectantly. If you did not know better, you would have thought he was giving you puppy eyes.

“You’re pretty eager.”

It was only half a joke. You raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. I am.”

Damn. I guess the immortal god of the mountain is not so selfless after all.

“Lie down.”

He was about to take off the jacket but you stopped him.

“Keep it.”

The way it revealed his chest and abs without being completely shirtless looked very sexy. San lay down on his back and you straddled his hips. The tent in his pants made it very evident how much he wanted this. You ran your hands over his chest and loved how his skin felt. It still seemed surreal that he was there, in your bed. Like a dream. But it was not a dream. He felt as solid and real as one could get. You leaned down to kiss his neck. It was so graceful. This close to him you could see the faint freckles on neck, that made him even prettier. You lightly sucked on the spot midway down his neck. He sighed and goosebumps appeared on his soft skin. You looked at his face to see him looking back at you.

“You’re very pretty.”

There was a part you wanted to make a joke out of it a la “you need to get your eyes checked” but you didn’t. It did not sound like a joke.

“You too, Mr Mountain.”

He smiled at the nickname. His hair was not as neat as earlier. You had tucked on it, while he had eaten you out and now some parts of the hair stood out more. Not many hairs had come loose completely though.

“Can I untie your hair?”

He reached for the tie and released it. How could he look any more stunning? With his long hair spilling over the pillow. He smirked up at you. It was very annoying that San knew how much he affected you.

“Are you motivated enough to ride me now?”

Yes, you were very motivated now. You pulled down his pants. It was going to be very fast, judging by his girth. You aligned yourself above him and let yourself sink down on him. The stretch made you gasp. His hands came to rest on your hips. You could still move freely, so it felt like he needed something to hold on to. You gingerly rocked your hips and heard San sigh beneath you. His fingers pressed into your hips. Moving your hips was the only thing you wanted to do now. You felt so full and so close already. Maybe him between your legs earlier was the cause of that. You leaned back and the changed angle made him press against your g spot. Every move sent waves of pleasure through your body.

San sat up and looked into your eyes. A light blush had appeared on his face. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he closed the distance. The kiss made your heart flutter and clench around him. He kissed down your neck to your chest. Your hand flew to his hair when he took one nipple in his mouth. He sucked and circled it with his tongue.

“Say my name.”

It sounded like a plea. His mouth was on the other nipple now while his hand came up to continue. You moved your hips as much as possible with him sitting up. The light biting and twisting of the nipples send electric shocks to your core.

“Oh, San.”

It felt a bit odd to say that but San hummed against your chest, doubling his efforts. Your hand grabbed his hair tighter and you rock your hips fast. So close. He bit down a bit harder at just the right moment to make the wave of pleasure came crashing down. Without realizing it you muttered his name over and over.

A few more movements and your hips came to a hold. San wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. You sank against him and he held you. Your breathing calmed down as you enjoyed being held. He was still inside you and it felt so intimate that you wanted to lighten the mood with humor.

“So, am I going to birth a tree now?”

San chuckled and kissed your shoulder.

“That’s not how that works.”

You smiled against his shoulder as his hands rubbed your back.

After a quick shower, you and San returned to your bedroom. You put on a t-shirt and sweatpants. San lay on the bed waiting for you. When you looked he spread his arms, waiting for you to fall into his arms. You could not help yourself but smile. He really was cute. You sank into his arms and he kissed the top of your head.

“What you wanna do now?”

You asked his chest. It was nice and warm in his arms. Would it be rude to fall asleep now? Your eyelids felt so heavy, it was hard to keep them open. You were not sure if he ever answered because you drifted off to sleep so fast.

And that is how you got yourself a boyfriend that had been a minor god for some time. The plants in your house never withered and from time to time you would visit your town. The altar was still there, in the middle of the forest, slowly being assimilated by nature, but San always went back to the city with you.

For that one person who forgot, 'San' literally means mountain in Korean XD

I'm willing to write some more episodes in this universe, so if you have a request (idk San meeting your friends for the first time or something like this), send me an ask :))

[midgardianweasley]

I’ve got you, I promise

Loki x fem!Avenger!reader

Summary: Y/N has a nightmare about her mum’s death, her being murdered by HYDRA because of her powers when Y/N was a child years ago, her daughter hearing everything. Haunted by the memories, comfort is found in a certain God of Mischief.

Warnings: very angsty but fluffy/soft ending, Readers Mother Death

Word Count: 1662

Message/ask if you want to be added to the taglist <33

Requests are open loves :)

“Stay here, do not move, okay?” I could faintly hear her mumbling, hiding me under coats and blankets in the storage cupboard, I could feel her hands shaking, matching the scared expression she held. She was trying to put on a brave face for me, despite knowing that I could hear the booming explosions outside and the banging on the door. I didn’t want her to leave, I knew what would happen if she set foot outside that door.

“Please don’t go” I spoke, only to be hushed quickly, her thumbs caressing my face and wiping away the tears that refused to stop flowing. My grip on the end of her sleeves felt deadly, silently begging her to stay, hoping that if I hold her tightly enough, she’ll hide in here with me. Her lips were the last I felt of her, the gentle kiss full of love pressed against my forehead, her tears falling onto my cheek and mixing with mine.

“I love you, sweetheart” She smiled, her eyes beginning to glow purple. It was time to go.

“I love-”

Darkness. One turn of a key and she was gone. The sounds weren’t though. I heard the gunshots. The explosions. The men’s screams. I’m sure if the coats weren’t on top of me, I’d be able to hear the punches, it was that loud. I thought once the noise stopped, I'd feel relief. It was over, surely? She was coming back for me. She has to be. It was only when the door was opened, well, kicked in, that i’d realised. She wasn’t coming home.

I sat bolt upright, sweat pouring off of me as I tried to catch my breath. This was the third time I'd had the same nightmare this month. I put it down to it being my mothers birthday in the upcoming weeks, my subconscious must be taunting me. As I began to ground myself, reminding myself to take deep breaths, I noticed how dry my throat was. Water. I need water. Before I knew it, I was shuffling quietly towards the kitchen in the Avengers compound, trying to not wake anyone as I filled a glass and went to look out at the city. It was so quiet outside. So peaceful. I felt a pang of jealousy, ‘The city is getting more rest than I am’. The city that never sleeps. The irony.

It felt as though I stood for hours, watching cars drive the streets of New York and the occasional bystander pass their flat window, realistically it was only a couple of minutes before I heard someone clear their throat behind me.

“Can’t sleep?” Loki.

I turned slightly, smiling at the God standing behind me, holding up my glass.

“Thirsty.” I murmured before turning back towards the window, silently hoping he’ll return back to his room.

I had no problem with Loki, ever since the New York incident, we all agreed to be civil, besides the occasional bicker between him and Stark, but generally we all tried our best to co-exist. Loki and I often found ourselves in discussions, I’d tell him about how I became an Avenger and the different missions I'd been on and he’d tell me about his life back in Asgard. I usually love hearing about his tales, especially about his mother. It’s obvious in the way he talks about her that he adores her. However, I don’t think I could handle it tonight.

“Now now, I like to think that I know you slightly better than that my dear. You seem troubled.”

“Reading my mind there, Loki?” I questioned, receiving a chuckle and a faint smile as he walked to stand beside me. As I looked out the window again, I could feel his gaze burn the side of my head.

“Not so much as reading your facial expressions. Your eyebrows furrow a certain way when you’re troubled. May I?” He asked, holding his hand out towards my face. Despite not knowing what exactly he was asking, I nodded in response. His thumb gently pressed against my forehead, smoothing out what I assume to be lines of anxiety found there. It didn’t last long before I flinched backwards, trying to avoid his touch. Not there. Upon seeing his slightly concerned glance, I spoke again, still not meeting his eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry. It’s not you.”

“No, no don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have invaded your personal space. I must ask though, are you okay?”

“Yes”

He raised his eyebrow, nonverbally questioning my answer.

“No.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

It was a strange question to me. I’d always kept this part of my life to myself. The rest of the team had no idea about this part of my past, sure, they knew my parents were out of the picture, but I hadn’t explained any further than that. This loss, I’d never shared it, never spoke a word about the nightmares or why I lock myself away on the same day every year. I don’t think they thought to question it. We all had our past, our memories, our losses. As Steve would so kindly put it, we walk it off. But here Loki was, God of mischief, standing before me and offering to listen to it. Something about the way he was looking at me, patiently awaiting for me to make the next move, I don’t really know what happened, I heard myself before my mind had processed it.

“It’s my mum’s birthday in two weeks.”

“I’ve never heard you speak of your mum” He spoke, appearing to look relieved that I had started to talk to him, however, still being patient with me and letting me decide how far I let this conversation go and what I say. The next sentence, I’ve never said aloud.

“She died.” My voice cracked. With arms crossed at my stomach, the glass of water long forgotten on a side table, my eyes finally met his. I could see the sadness floating in them, I’m sure he could say the same about me.

“I’m so sorry, love.”

“I was young at the time.”

“That can’t make it any easier”

“No, it doesn’t” I mumbled, tears now starting to fall again. I gave him a small smile, barely noticeable i’m sure, nonetheless, he returned a sympathetic one. His silence felt like a cue to continue, I breathed deeply as I started to talk again.

“It was HYDRA. They killed her. I never really knew the reason for sure, I assume it was because she wouldn’t join them and they saw her powers as a threat on the opposite side. She locked me away. Kept me hidden as she went to fight them off. She never returned.” The last sentence leaves my mouth as a slight whisper, my gaze returning to the city again.

“That’s terrible. I’m incredibly sorry for your loss, my dear. Is this why you’re up?” He asked, stepping slightly closer towards me, but still giving me my space. I nodded, hesitant to share more, but the look in his eyes and feeling him stood so close gave me a sense of comfort. Like I could trust him. He’s told me personal things about his life on Asgard, I can trust him with this.

“I can still hear everything. I can’t imagine how many men there were outside attacking us, but I could hear their pain. Their screams and the darkness haunts me. Not once did I hear my mum scream, I assumed that was a good sign, I still remember the spark of hope upon hearing the silence. But when S.H.I.E.L.D agents appeared in front of me, I remember feeling it fizzle out twice as fast. I thought it was her coming back. I didn’t think that her kiss and her ‘I love you’s’ would be the last I had of her.” My breaths started to shake again, remembering everything as I was saying it out loud.

“I didn’t- I thought”

“Shh shh, hey, hey, Y/N, Look at me, hey” The God spoke, crouching down slightly, his hands on my shoulders grounding me a little. His messy black hair and green pyjamas all looked like a blur through the tears pooling in my eyes.

“Deep breaths for me, in for 6, hold for 2 and then out. Do it with me” He spoke slowly and clearly, starting to demonstrate his breathing, trying to encourage me to follow. I started to slowly follow his lead, gradually feeling more air reaching my lungs with every breath we took. After a few minutes, he gently took my hand, and placed it on his chest, where his heart was

“Feel that?”

“Mhm”

He took my other hand and placed it at the same spot, but on my chest instead.

“Focus on the beats, okay?”

I nodded, still not relying on my voice to communicate for me. It helped a lot, following his breathing and feeling our heartbeats begin to settle down and fall in line with each other.

“Loki?” My voice sounded small, like a child.

“Yes?”

“Can I have a hug? Please?”

“Of course you can darling. C’mere” He stood up, opening his arms and beckoning me into them. Soon, his heartbeat could be felt right at my temple, it was more soothing than I had expected. We’d stayed like that for a while, tiredness had started to take over, something the man above me noticed.

“Would you like to stay with me tonight? You don’t have to, I can return you to your-”

“I wanna stay with you. Please.” I mumbled, barely audible mainly due to tiredness.

“Alright, let’s go. I’ll protect you from any nightmares. I promise.”

Loki may be the God of Mischief, known for his lies and tricks, but he kept to his promise as he held me through the night, using his seidr to settle my mind and anxieties. I’ve never slept so well, all thanks to him.

Taglist: @horrorxweasley​