#i have so many thoughts about all of them but im nervous to post them but ohmygod i have. so many thoughts. i have thought about them all

[yourlocalartsonist]

MONTHLY MFIP UPDATE✨✨

9/24 | Month 2 | Next Month | Month 1

Hey folks 🦐 I finally got the chance to make this month’s MFIP Update cuz god damn life was kicking my ass. College is fine for the most part tbh, just a lot of reading and writing cuz of the specific classes I chose. HOWEVER I have 💥FUCKING PMDD💥 so um skill issue on my part but it’s why I’ve been kinda exhausted as shit this week and was late with the update so my bad folks! (Also for more info on PMDD, click here! I don’t wanna spend this post yapping about it but wanted to leave a resource to spread awareness just in case :3). Also, Imma be tagging some of y'all who have been reading/supporting MFIP consistently just for this post, so yk you guys actually know these updates exist. I was gonna do that for the first ever update but as with many things, I forgor, so I'm doing it now! They’re supposed to come out on the 18th of every month, but yk sometimes life happens and I’m a lil late. It won’t be any earlier than the 18th tho so look out for these once it hits that date! Anywho, cheers to this month’s update!

Alrighty folks we be starting with the Art~!

Alrighty so obvious new thing, WE GOT RAPH’S REF SHEEEEEEEET TEEHEEEEEEE

BRO IM SO HYPE ABOUT IT! It turned out so genuinely amazing and I’m ridiculously proud of it! Especially cuz I honestly thought Raph was gonna be a harder design to figure out yk? I’m not used to drawing his body type, I wasn’t as familiar with his outfit, and even tho I’ve sketched him a few times before, I was just a bit nervous with Raph. Funfact, he’s also been the hardest to figure out how to write back when I was first starting MFIP. I genuinely don’t know why, but I got there eventually (I actually really love writing him now—) and same thing happened with his design!

Since MFIP’s taking place a few months after the Krang invasion, i’m able to take creative liberties and update the boys’ designs more! For some clarification btw, in my story’s lore, the invasion took place in September 2020, and MFIP starts on March 2021. Anywhizzle, my ideas for the boys’ designs is to combine their movie look with their show look, cuz while I do LOVE the black on them, it doesn’t feel right to me to not make them still unique in their own ways. These guys are all about authenticity, so why make their gear exactly the same, ya get me? I basically recolored his show gear to be black and red (and added a lil asymmetry on his legs) cuz I think it makes Raph feel older and more sure about himself, just feels right for him! I also just think the red fade on the black is hella cool! Fun lil color theory i think application, the black is more of a really dark, inky blue, so it makes the red pop out even more! I decided to make a bow out of his mask tails, too! I don’t wanna spoil the entire lore reasoning for it yet (it’ll pop up in the story), but I can indeed say it’s intentional that it looks a little like a lunamoth with damaged tails :3 I also took a BUNCH of creative liberties with his sais’ handles, since we haven’t really seen it much so like idk gaslight yourselves into thinking it’s always been this epic✨✨

Also I gave him his shorts back because FUCK YOU I LIKED THE RED TRIMMMM—

OH I ALMOST FORGOT yes he has longer eyelashes! I saw he grows to have really pretty eyelashes in the future cuz of his turtle species, and I wanted to lean into that by showing they’re starting to grow now :3

Bullshit Gag Because Yes‼️‼️

There ain’t shit to say about this, I just pulled a silly. I saw the fact Donnie was supposed to have a “Doctor Donatello” persona in the deleted episode where Dale turns into a werewolf. I’m really heavily on the train of Leo being the team medic and into medicine in general. I don’t think it makes sense for Donnie to be the medic judging by his sensory issues and this mf being as much of a germaphobe as my mom, and in my opinion it felt too stereotypical anyway to have Donnie be the medic. Ofc, to each their own, and this is just my interpretation of it, but I thought it’d be funny if Donnie still had this persona and was passionate about it, but was like horrifically bad at being a doctor. I made this dumbass sketch that I’ll finish sometime in the future (it’s gonna be a chapter in Arc 3 probably) and I just wanted to share it with yall~

THEY’RE HUMAN NOW⁉️

My ass wanted to show off cuz I’m sketching out some ideas of what my human designs for the boys culd be. I already did Leo’s like ages ago so he’s not on here but I’m realizing as I’m typing this my dumbass forgor to post it so um my bad I will do that in a few days—

But I wanted to design (or more accurately, redesign cuz I did draw em once a while back but I’m not satisfied with them) and I think I ate so far so uh yea. There isn’t any logic to sharing this, I just thought it was cool😭

And actually, imma share them here too just so y’all can see my boy ;w;

(A lil outdated cuz I didn’t give him lips at the time)

Okay there we go~

As you can see, I want all the boys to look kinda etherial and like they'd turn heads, and I think I am SUCCEEDING SO HARD SO FAR CUZ DAMNNNN THEY'RE ALL PRETTY AS SHIIIIIIIT TEEHEE✨ Also am tryna make sure they actually look Blasian since that's what the canon of my story says they are. I'll talk about them more another time when I have all of them on here~

But yea that's all for art this time folks :> ONTO THE NEXT THINGGG

Chapter Progress Time Whoop Whoooop‼️‼️

I didn’t make much progress on anything this month due to college—again, it’s fine, but there’s a shit ton of time management going on in my part to just manage everything and make sure I’m on track—BUT I am indeed still working on chapter 10. We’re up to 20 pages now which is only two more pages written from last month, but it’s kinda cool writing Donnie and I feel like I’m getting a better understanding of him! One thing I’ve been tryna do is understand autism better as a condition cuz I do wanna acknowledge and show bro’s autism instead of just ignoring it due to a lack of understanding. Donnie ain’t Donnie without it, ya know? I don’t know everything and tbh I would say I still have A LOT to learn on the subject matter, but I’m tryna expand my knowledge every opportunity I get and experimenting with how to better show it! This is to say tho, I’M NOT A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL, NOR AN EXPERT ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM. This is what I’m finding and comprehending via my own research, and can tbh end up being wrong so please don’t quote me as a reliable source, I’m still learning ;v;

I remember one of the things I kept hearing about was autism leading people to struggle with empathy. The best way I heard it being described was someone bringing the example of when their friend was upset. That person can’t truly feel their friend’s emotions because they’re not the one experiencing it, so can’t properly understand how it’s making their friend feel. But they can see that their friend is communicating their sadness, and they still try to comfort them and make sure their friend knows they’re there for support. I understood it as bringing logic to emotions in a sense; collecting data and figuring out how to handle the situation based on the data rather than using intuition alone.

I’ve been using that to figure out how Donnie might handle more emotionally subtle situations, where he might try to rationally work through what’s happening and kinda substitute it in place of natural empathy. Like the little tidbit I gave above! Instead of just automatically being able to get vibes that the other person is upset, I felt maybe Donnie would instead notice the fact their tone is kinda different from before; it’s basically a data point. With that data point in mind, he could connect it to past experiences where a tone change could indicate a mood change, and as a result he might conclude that Salena’s tone change means she’s upset. I comprehend it as manually working through empathy rather than it being second nature, if that makes sense. Obviously and thankfully Donnie isn’t gonna spend the entire chapter playing a guessing game or anything with Salena’s emotions, it’s just one lil moment that I thought was cool challenge to myself with when writing him! I really love putting myself in the characters’ shoes when I’m writing them or their dialogue. I highly recommend it as a tool too, since it's helped me a lot with staying in character!

Last Lil Segment Y'all

Aight so, I wanted to try doing something cool if y'all are up for it. I really love rambling about my story and lore and characters blah blah blah, but I don't really know how to do so tbh. I'm not that familiar with how social medias work cuz I just never took it seriously, and I don't wanna just keep being like HEYYYYY ASK BOX IS OPENNNNN like I'm screaming from the top of the hill either. Sooooo insteaddddd

I think it'd be fun to do Q&As here! Or at least something similar. I'll open my ask box again and feel free to send any questions you want; it can be about the story, past lore, design questions, getting to know the characters, absolutely anything! Then when I'm gonna do my update for the month, I'll compile all y'all's asks, (prolly will have to tag to make sure you guys know I answered it, or if you ask anon then uh idk look out for the monthly update) and then answer them during the monthly update as the last section! I think it'll be a cool way to make this feel more interactive, and gives me an excuse to ramble. Don't be afraid to ask potentially spoilery questions either! If it's something I can't spoil yet or even give hints or vague answers about, I'll just say so in the update!

Anywhizzle, That's All Folks~!

I'm glad there was so much to talk about this month! I actually deadass thought it would be short but I should know better with my yapping' ass💀✨ But yeah, thanks for reading everyone! I hope y'all enjoy the rest of your days, and I shall see you next month~ Bye :D

Tageroonies:

@yosajaeofficial @chaoticspeedrun @ramblehour @randomcerealbrand @goldanrabbit @m1sf0rtun3 @foundthethief @ackalice @jellyfishheartsss @dollyrin @harukonene @iieieiw @mwantstossleep @zipzaizen @hypocriticaltypwriter @lordfreg @rainbowpr1sm @idioticsky @oleander-nin @cheeselord-official @skittlesqueen101

By the way, if you guys think you’d like to be tagged whenever an MFIP chapter is posted, lmk in a reblog or comment (no asks or dms plz, too inconvenient) and I’ll be sure to tag so it’s more reliable than tumblr notifs :3🫶

ROTTMNT: Moths Fly In Packs

[thedeadthree]

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 ➸ irulanne . the rook .

𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 . 𝐄𝐋𝐅 . 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄 .

-`. template by @kanos . coloring . icons .

✧ ― 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (ask to be added or removed or interact 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞!!):

@pavus, @wlwaerith, @shadowsofrose, @grapecaseschoices, @nokstella

@queennymeria, @risingsh0t, @carrionsflower, @leviiackrman, @griffin-wood

@confidentandgood, @aceghosts, @tommyarashikage, @shadowglens, @yharnams

@anoras, @theelderhazelnut, @florbelles, @celticwoman, @pinkfey

@kyberinfinitygems, @cloudofbutterflies92, @carlosoliveiraa, @shellibisshe, @adelaidedrubman

@lavampira, @capelizabeth, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @statichvm, @unholymilf

@aezyrraeshh, @imogenkol, @aceghosts, @full---ofstarlight, @ellierenae

[harrysfolklore]

Can you please, pretty pretty please do another Zendaya one??

fake social media

okay i’m kinda nervous bc this is the first time i post for someone who’s not harry so HI i do social media au blurbs and i hope you like this one i did for tom 🥲 let me know your thoughts and send in requests if you have any !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by hunterschafer, tomblyth and 5,119,083 others

yourinstagram Thank you so much @vogueitalia for having me 🤍 Interview out tomorrow

view all 36,196 comments

ynfan1 STUNNING

alexademie ❤️⭐️!!!

ynfan2 models should be glad she chose acting as a career

dualipa MOTHER 🤍

ynfan3 i wonder what kind of tea she spilled on the interview

tomblyth ❤️

↳ tomfan1 HELLO?

↳ tomfan2 ariana what are you doing here

liked by ynfan1, tomfan1 and 302,922 others

enews We’re losing our minds over this new Hollywood romance. 🥹 Link in bio to see how YN hard launched their relationship (📸: Getty)

view all 5,027 comments

tomfan1 OMFGGGG

ynfan1 THIS IS GIVING ME LIFE

tomfan2 NOOOO 💔

ynfan2 “my love life has always been private but this time just feels right to let the world know” NO I CANT MY HEART

↳ tomfan3 DYING

liked by rachelzegler, yourinstagram and 502,826 others

tomblyth Sneak peak at our inconspicuous movie about 2 totally chill birdwatchers with no emotional damage whatsoever… 😏

view all 6,065 comments

tomfan1 AHHHHHHHHHHH

ynfan1 this movie is going to be so good

hunterschafer ❤️

tomfan2 THE SLAY OF THE CENTURY

ynfan2 okay now i get yn

yourinstagram Those are my babies 🤍

↳ ynfan3 we love a supportive girlfriend

↳ tomfan3 i’m definitely not jealous

liked by ynfan1, tomfan1 and 6,927 others

tomupdates Tom and YN in Los Angeles today !

view all 509 comments

tomfan1 STOP THIS

ynfan1 WELL

tomfan2 AHHHHHH

ynfan2 people who don’t support this relationship are so lame bc look at them

tomfan3 she visited him on set 👀

liked by hunterschafer, yourinstagram and 511,028 others

tomblyth Come back to the beginning of the games with us @songbirdsandsnakes

view all 6,919 comments

tomfan1 AHHH OMG

ynfan1 what a time to be alive

rachelzegler YES !!!

songbirdsandsnakes We are SO there! ❤️

yourinstagram SUPER PROUD MY LOVE 🤍🤍

↳ ynfan2 AHHHHHH

↳ tomblyth I love you ❤️

↳ tomfan2 I JUST DIED DEAD

liked by tomblyth, sza and 5,287,209 others

yourinstagram Exciting things coming

view all 37,028 comments

ynfan1 SAY SIKE

tomfan1 she’s dating my man i can’t

hunterschafer they’re not ready

↳ ynfan2 SPILL THE BEANS

ynfan3 the way this could literally be anything

tomblyth Gorgeous ❤️

↳ tomfan2 im still in the denial phase btw

FANS VIA TWITTER

//

liked by tomblyth, oliviarodrigo and 6,927,019 others

yourinstagram CAN’T CATCH ME NOW from @songbirdsandsnakes will be out today. The film and the rest of the soundtrack are out November 17th. Thank you to sweet angel @oliviarodrigo for writing this song and letting me sing it, this is so special to me 🤍

view all 76,207 comments

ynfan1 OMFGGGGG

mtv Our skin is clear. Our grades are all A’s. This is exactly what we needed

ynfan2 SINGER YN IS SO ALIVE

tomfan1 OHHHH LORDDDDD

hunterschafer ❤️❤️❤️😭

tomfan2 she 🥹 did this 🥹 for tom 🥹

ynfan3 the things she does for love i guess bc i thought she was allergic to studios

tomblyth So proud of you 🤍

↳ tomfan3 WHAT IF CRY

↳ yourinstagram Wouldn’t have done with without your encouragement 🥺

↳ ynfan4 IM MELTING

liked by hunterschafer, yourinstagram and 639,573 others

tomblyth HG film dump. Just some of the many people I love who breathed life into this movie. @songbirdsandsnakes opens tomorrow 🤍

view all 7,022 comments

tomfan1 CRYING

rachelzegler See you on the big screen 🙌🏻

ynfan1 i can’t wait to see it omg

yourinstagram SUPER PROUD ❤️ I love you !

↳ ynfan2 AHHH SO CUTE

↳ tomfan2 that should be me

tomfan3 i was here before hunger games

liked by tomblyth, alexademie and 6,926,209 others

yourinstagram TBOSBAS is on theaters now and all I can say is that I love every single human being involved in it and I’m so proud of them 🤍 Oh and thank you for all the support for Can’t Catch Me Now, you make me all mushy 🥲

view all 39,026 comments

ynfan1 AWEEEEEE

tomfan1 LOOK AT MY BABY

rachelzegler We love you sweet angel ! Having you on set was a blast❤

↳ ynfan2 MY BABIEEEEES

tomfan2 WE NEED MORE TOM BTS CONTENT

ynfan3 okay can we get a full album now

↳ yourinstagram I only release music for special occasions 🤍

↳ tomfan3 AHHH SHE DID IT FOR TOM

tomblyth Thank you for being my rock and bringing me bagels, I love you honey ❤

↳ tomfan1 OH TO BE CALLED HONEY BY TOM

↳ ynfan1 i'm melting

liked by harryfan1, ynfan1 and 409,299 others

people Our favorite off-screen couple has arrived to the #BalladOfSongbirdsAndSnakes premiere ! Link in our bio for more pictures.

view all 21,065 comments

tomfan1 AHHHHH I CANT

ynfan1 they're matching my heart

tomfan2 THEIR RED CARPET SLASH PREMIERE DEBUT

ynfan2 yn is such a supportive girlfriend tom is so lucky

↳ tomfan3 they're so lucky to have each other 🥺

INTERVIEWS BY TOM AND THE CAST DURING THE PREMIERE

//

liked by tomfan1, ynfan2 and 13,038 others

tomupdates Tom and YN at the TBOSAS premiere ! 🥺

view all 822 comments

tomfan1 AHHHH

ynfan1 i can’t take their cuteness anymore

tomfan2 i’m so damn jealous ngl

ynfan2 WHIPPED

tomfan3 i’m bisexual bc of them

liked by tomblyth, dualipa and 6,028,984 others

yourinstagram Snow lands on top. The man of the hour

view all 78,019 comments

ynfan1 AHHHHH

tomfan1 SO TRUE IT BOY

hunterschafer Love you both 🤍

ynfan2 she’s down horrendousss omg

tomfan2 i get her if tom was my boyfriend i would post pics of him all the time

tomblyth I love you so much ❤️

↳ tomfan3 WHAT IF I CRY

↳ ynfan3 they’re equally down bad

liked by yourinstagram, rachelzegler and 1,002,109 others

tomblyth Dream girl ❤️

view all 21,299 comments

tomfan1 NO WAY

ynfan1 IM CRYING

alexiademie 💘⭐️

ynfan2 ahhh this is what she deserves

tomfan2 tom is such a soft boyfriend i could cry

yourinstagram 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹❤️

↳ ynfan3 they’re endgame i swear

[chaotic-birds]

be with you || j.pt

Jason wakes up in the middle of the night and you're not there.

🌙 Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader (gn)

🌙 Genres/AUs: Fluff, (emotional) hurt/comfort, established relationship

🌙 Warning(s): mention of kidnapping

🌙 Word Count: 1.1k

🌙 Author's Note: I have so many Jason Todd fic ideas 😵‍💫 For now, I decided to just write this. I normally don't post such short fics, but I want to get used to doing so. Sometimes I just wanna write without thinking of intensive plots 😪 That being said, please enjoy this little fluff piece! Sometimes, we just need some fluff in our lives. Also, this is my first Jason fic after a few years so… 😬 (im a lil nervous)

masterlist

When Jason turns to his other side to pull you against him, his eyes fly open.

Your side of the bed is empty.

And cold.

Which means it’s been a while since you left.

You left.

Did you leave or did someone take you?

Jason’s distressed eyes scan the bedroom. There’s no sign of a struggle. Plus, he would at least hope he’d wake up to the commotion if something like that happened.

But if you didn’t get kidnapped, where did you go?

Worry fills his chest and his heart pumps faster at the influx of questions in his head.

All the doubt about whether he’s making you happy clouds his mind. Had he said something yesterday that had upset you? Are you not happy with him anymore? Did someone better come into your life?

Jason groans and rakes his hands through his hair, tugging roughly at the ends to feel something other than uneasiness.

His hands fall to his sides when he sees your belongings at your vanity.

That’s a good sign, right? Maybe you didn’t leave him after all.

Jason slides off the bed and heads out of the bedroom.

“Babe?” he calls.

There’s no answer.

He wanders to the bathroom. Empty.

He goes to the living room. Empty.

Finally, he goes to your home office.

You’re sat in your chair with your headset on, fingers clacking against the keyboard.

The heavyweight he had put on his shoulders instantly lifted. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He takes three large steps before he encloses his arms around you from behind.

You yelp, jumping and hitting your head against his jaw.

He grunts at having bit the inside of his cheek in the process.

Although your arms are glued to your sides, you tilt your head and lift a hand as high as it can go to remove your headset.

“Jay?” you question. “Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.”

He shakes his head and nuzzles his face against your neck more.

You lax in his arms, rubbing along his forearms and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Why are you awake then?” you wonder after a while.

“You weren’t in bed,” he mumbles.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I forgot I had to finish something for work.”

“But it’s half past three. Can’t it wait?”

“Sadly, no,” you sigh.

Carefully, you try to pull apart his arms to free yourself. Jason refuses to let you do so.

“Baby,” you laugh softly when he holds you tighter. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be done in a bit.”

“No,” he grumbles.

Knowing he won’t give up, at least not easily, you nod. “Alright then. Should I bring in another chair for you?”

Jason shakes his head and finally lets go. He slides your chair back slightly and sinks to the floor in front of you.

Your legs part when he makes a home between them, wrapping his arms around your hips and resting his head on top of your thigh.

“Comfy?” you ask with a small smile, slightly amused.

He simply hums and closes his eyes.

Your gaze lingers on him before you focus on your work once more. You hurry more now, wanting to get back to bed with Jason.

A few minutes have passed when Jason speaks again.

“I-I thought you left me,” he whispers.

Your hands pause in their movement.

“Oh Jace,” you begin gently and place a hand against his cheek.

His eyes flutter open at your touch. His blue eyes are filled with worry and fear.

“I would never leave you.”

His eyes move between yours, trying to find a reason not to believe you. There’s that rotten side of him that tells him he doesn’t deserve to have company. That it’s inevitable for him to be alone.

“Unless you want me to,” you add.

He shakes his head aggressively. “Don’t say that.”

You smile softly at him. “Then it’s a done deal. You’re mine until the end of time.”

Jason cracks a small smile at your words, lifting his head.

“I like the sound of that,” he says.

Your grin grows. “I do too.”

Jason leans up, and you meet him halfway for a tender kiss.

“I’ve still got more to do. You want to go to bed now?” you ask once you pull away.

“Nope, I’m staying,” he replies, resting his head back on your leg.

His tone sounds lighter now, making your heart warm. Although you love all sides of Jason, this may be your favorite one.

Happy. Soft. Vulnerable.

After forty more minutes, you finally finish.

Jason has fallen asleep and has filled the room with his light snores. Some of his hair lays on his face, some of it slightly ruffled from sleeping in the bed earlier.

Cute.

You bring a hand to his hair, carding your fingers through his soft locks. You scratch at his scalp gently to wake him.

His eyes open, drooping and groggily.

“I’m done, let’s go to bed now,” you say.

He nods and slowly stands up from the floor. He sways a little on tired legs.

“Come on, sleepy head,” you tease lightly and grab his hand.

He lets you guide him back to the bedroom. You sit him down on the edge then gesture in the direction of the bathroom.

“I need to pee; you gonna come with me or will you stay here?” you question.

Jason frowns but nods. “If you take longer than five minutes, I’m coming in.”

You laugh and kiss the crown of his head. “If you say so.”

You know he’s being honest so you rush. Luckily, you make it in time for him not to come get you.

Jason hasn’t moved from when you left. He’s staring at the doorway, feet thumping rhythmically against the floor.

“You’re so needy tonight,” you observe and climb into bed. Jason scoots back until he’s beside you.

“I just miss you,” he sighs, pulling you against him like he originally wanted to do.

You lean back against his chest to feel him more.

“I’ve missed you too, Jay,” you reply.

There's been a rise in crime lately, which resulted in Jason being out in the field more than usual. However, it feels as if there’s a break and you and Jason are making the most of it. You’re sure he will be summoned again soon.

Jason snuggles your body more—if possible—and kisses the back of your head.

“We’re so sleeping in today,” he mumbles, a slight groan accompanying his words.

You giggle. “I can’t protest that.”

“Hm, good,” he says. “Goodnight, baby.”

Smiling, you echo, “Goodnight, Jay.”

©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[bbyquokka]

fizzy pop

– yn has a habit of bottling up their emotions, chan comforts them & explains the importance of communicating about feelings/emotions.

pairing | bang chan x gender neutral reader

genre | angst w comfort – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship, mental health (low moods, low/no motivation, lose of interest in hobbies/things), pet names.

words | 2k ~ ( 2,042 )

notes | idk why but i've been putting off on posting this for months, maybe bc im nervous 🤔 don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

it's just another day. another day of just being there. another day of feeling like you have no purpose in life except to please others. another day of wondering “what is the purpose of me being here?” you fake smiles, say you're "ok" because saying how you actually feel is exhausting.

aside from it feeling exhausting, you also don't want to draw attention to yourself and when you do speak, you feel stupid for doing so, so you keep it all in, bottle it up until it's too much for you to handle. some days you wonder why you even bother to get out off bed.

is it because of the birds you hear outside? the sun's heat that you want to feel on your skin? could it be the laughter and chitter chatter of others? or maybe you want to hear the rain on the leaves–who knows. all you know is that everyday is the same and it's tiring.

the days merge into one. what day is it even? monday? tuesday? oh wait, it's saturday morning. time doesn't exist anymore. in your mind you see no point in getting up out of bed because again, what's the point? 

so why is it that your boyfriend is gently shaking you, asking, no, begging you to get up.

“darlin'. please get up.” chan whispers as he gently shakes you by the shoulders. you sigh deeply, a tired sigh that causes chan to swallow and his suspicions to come to light.

you pull the duvet over your head, body curled in a small and fragile ball. the curtains are still drawn providing darkness despite the morning rays that wish to peak inside. 

chan has been up since the crack of dawn. he has showered, made breakfast and managed to get dressed. he gave you some extra time to sleep in because he knows you're not a morning person but when the number nine on his watch turned to twelve and you're still not up and out, does he grow concerned.

he's had his suspicions for a while. he's noticed how defeated you sound. how there is little to no energy in the words you speak. he's tried everything to cheer you up, thinking, hoping you were just having an off day. but that off day turned into an off week which slowly, but surely, turned into an off month.

you lost your passion for being creative, lost the will to make anything which you despise. being creative is one of the many pleasures you have in life, to be able to make something and share your creations with others is exhilarating but when you feel like this, your mood turns bitter and cold towards everything you do which results in you resenting everything you create.

you lost the energy to speak to people. to pick up the phone and just talk. you're not deliberately ignoring nor trying to be difficult but keeping conversations flowing is just too hard right now and when you think they're giving you the same energy back do you feel so guilty. 

what have i done to deserve this? why am i forced to feel like this. you find yourself questioning everything late at night. your head loud as soon as it hits the pillow and no amount of music you blast down your ears can silence those thoughts.

everything is so exhausting. everything is the same. you just want to disappear whether that be for a few days or forever, you're not quite sure, but certain people around you wont allow that to happen. they are keeping you afloat, head above water. you desperately and silently wish they never let you go, no matter how hard you fight and push them away.

“baby, please.” chan's words dripped with desperation. his knees on the bed behind you as he kneels causing the mattress to dip. his hands on your shoulders gently as his eyes bore into the duvet, burning holes into it until he is burning holes into you. tears threaten to spill down his soft cheeks as he becomes increasingly worried for you.

“chan..“ you whisper, your words shaking. “please.. leave me alone.” 

he swallows. those three last words he hates to hear. now he is left in a difficult position. should he do as you say and leave you? leave you to fester and rot in your own thoughts and feelings. watch you melt into the mattress and become nothing but a lifeless shell. or should he force himself, force you to acknowledge him. show you, tell you that's it's going to be ok–even if you don't believe him in the beginning.

but this is chan and you know more than anyone how stubborn chan can be.

“lets go take a shower yn, together! and maybe we can go out and get lunch at that café you love so much?”

silence. 

“or how about we go to that art shop! pick up those water colours you've been eyeing up for months?”

silence.

“ok well, what about some new cloth–”

“chan please!” you snap, causing him to jump. “what part of leave me alone don't you understand?!”

you don't mean to sound harsh and you hope chan doesn't take it to heart. the last thing you want is to hurt the one person you adore so much. luckily, chan knows you don't mean it but it doesn't hurt him any less.

“all of it.” he softly speaks. you feel the weight being lifted up off the mattress and footsteps against the wood flooring before the bedroom door squeaks open at the hinges.

your heart breaks. hot angry tears finally being set free and rolling down the bridge of your nose and cheeks, soaking into the material of your pillow. you sob, curling up into a ball even more as your heart aches in your chest. you grip onto the pillow as you silently cry out for chan, thinking he has completely left you alone.

but you did ask for it so why do you feel so guilty?

the duvet gets pulled back from you, the cold air hitting your hot and sweaty skin. the mattress dips once again as an arm snakes over your midriff. chest being pressed against your back as chan spoons you.

“don't cry, darlin'. i'm here, your channie is here.” his soft words provide you with a sense of comfort and an indescribable feeling of warmth as well as relief. his hand strokes your soft stomach, his lips kissing your neck so tenderly you worry that he isn't really there. 

“c-chan…” you sob through your words as a way of confirmation. you can't breathe, the pain of everything that's built up over the past months is making it impossible for you to breathe. your mind fogs over as your chest heaves up and down.

you struggle to take breaths as tears stream down your face. your pillow becomes soaked with your tears. chan strokes your unwashed hair gently, hushing you and singing softly to help ground you.

“sh sh sh. you're ok, you're safe.” he whispers.

“sorry! i'm sorry!” you repeat over and over again in your fits of tears. chan continues to hush you, noticing that it's not working so he gently rolls you over to face him and pulls you into his naked chest. 

the warmth and softness of his skin calms you down in an instant. his natural scent hugs your nostrils and sinks into your heart, soothing your heartbeat as well as your mind. you grip onto him, desperately trying to cling onto something before resulting in wrapping your arms around him tightly. 

he gives you a bear hug. arms around your shoulders gently, fingers raking and massaging your scalp. his chest wet with tears as he continues to hush you through your episode.

there isn't much he can do when you're crying like this except wait. wait for it to pass–and it does, fifteen minutes later.

“better?” he gently asks. you peer up at him to notice that his own cheeks are wet with a few tears slowly falling.

“you're crying..” you whisper as you reach up and wipe the tears away. chan laughs softly before leaning into your touch. “why?”

“because it pains me to see you like this, my love.” that guilt comes back, settling in your stomach and wrapping itself around your heart, like black fog. you look down, tears falling from your lower lash line.

“sorry..” you mumble.

“hey.” chan unwraps his arms from you to gently lift up your head. “it hurts because i can't do anything about it. it hurts because i love you! seeing you in so much pain is rough darling. and it's not physical pain either, it's not like i can put a band aid on your wound.”

“i'm sorry i'm like this, chan. sorry i'm so difficult and such a disappointment.”

“oi.” his tone of voice turns stern which causes you to look up at him. his brows furrowed together as he reaches and strokes your cheek. “you're not a disappointment or difficult baby. it's ok to feel like this, to have off days and feel like nothing is right, however, you have to come to me when you feel like this! or if you can't come to me, talk to a friend.”

“but i hate talking about my feelings, chan.. i feel like a burden and that it just bores people and when i do confined in people, it feels like i don't get the comfort i expect to get so i'm left thinking if it's worth it and if i just expect too much from people.”

“what have i told you about bottling things up, mhm?”

“that it's just going to keep building and building until i explode.” you mumble to which chan hums and nods too

“imagine you're a bottle of fizzy pop. your body is the bottle, your feelings are the fizzy liquid. what happens when you shake a bottle of fizzy pop?”

“it bubbles and explodes, creating a huge mess.”

“and what happens when you bottle your feelings up?”

“i get shaken up by the smallest of things, which causes me to bubble and explode..”

“mhm. you have to remember, my darling, that how you feel is valid. your feelings are valid. you might seem like it's something so small or stupid, but that something small could build and build and build.”

“so i should come to you whenever i feel negative?”

“yes.”

“even if i'm frustrated at a piece of work? even if i can't get a recipe right and it annoys me?”

“yes.”

“but that is so small and not as important..”

“yn, if it's bothering you then it's big. if it's bothering you, it's important to me. if you feel angry, upset, energy less, i beg that you come to me or to a friend! it's important that we voice these things, let it be known because you'll feel better.” he tucks your hair behind your ear gently before you nuzzle into his chest, thinking about what he's saying.

he is correct. he always is and that's the thing that sometimes bothers you, but in a good way! it just means that you can't hide anything from chan, whether it's good or bad and when you are feeling down, chan is always there to pick you back up and dust you off, providing you with love and comfort.

“shall we go shower together to start the day?”

“isnt it a bit late for that? besides, hasn't your day already started?” you mumble against his chest.

“it's never too late to start the day and besides, i don't mind ‘restarting’ my day if it means i get to do it with you.” he kisses the top of your head gently, stroking your back as you tangle your legs with his.

“soon.”

“soon?” he questions.

“i just want to spend some more minutes with you..”

“we can spend as many minutes together as you like, my darling. as long as you're happy and content.”

“i'm always happy and content with you, chan. you're my safe space.”

“and i hope i continue to be and provide you with that safe space, yn.”

[prettyboykatsuki]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SHARPEN YOUR TEETH (AND BITE AS HARD AS YOU WANT) | WYLL RAVENGARD

☾ tags ; SPOILERS FOR ACT ONE AND TWO OF BG3, gn + afab!reader, werewolf!reader, selunite cleric!reader developing relationship, canon typical violence, mild gore / blood, mutual pining, heat cycles, scent kink, oral (f + m!recieving), unprotected sex, praise kink, petnames (starlight, my love, my heart), lots of referring to reader as a dog / mutt / puppy, messy sex, reader has body hair / pubic hair, soft top wyll, a single pregnancy joke, 18+ MDNI

☾ wc ; 21.8k (????)

☾ a/n ; h...hello wyll nation. local deranged man here to offer this politely and run away. i dont really know what happened here. this was really just meant to be porn about a scent kink and uhm. well

i dont know if i wrote this fic as much as it used my physical vessel as a way to escape. it just sort of occured. im rarely nervous to post fic for a character but this is my first time doing a real wyll fic and bg3 fandom as many people i respect. so please be kind.

anyways. the embracing of monstrosity vs the rejection of it. so on and so forth. hope u enjoy. also banner is from slime isekai anime.

☾ synopsis ; there's a werewolf at camp. nothing new. wyll is growing increasingly fond of them. very new.

ao3 link for reading | spotify playlist.

The violent tearing sounds of teeth ripping through the flesh pulse and echo through the night air. 

Blood sprays onto the furred creature responsible for it. All else grinds to a halt, the gnats and fireflies silent in awe as sharp claws crush through bone. Wyll can hear the sound of his own blood pumping as his eyes watch the massacre, hand drawn on his rapier. He looks over through the rest of his party 

They remain just as awestruck. Astarion stands breathlessly. Shadowheart slinks into her namesake, eyes closed and trembling in the dark. 

But Wyll watches, eyes fixed on the bloodshed. On the violence. The realization dawns on him too late that one of his party members is missing. You’re missing. He stares back at the creature, underneath the moon - silently slaughtering every last of their opposition until the battle field is left in a field of crimson. Death plagues every inch of dirt to the naked eye. 

A whimper sounds. Followed by the sound of skin and bones retracting and moving back into place. 

Where a werewolf once was is your naked form. Sat on your knees and bent over your body with tears at the corners of your eyes. Just your ears and tail remain, your mouth and hands covered in a thick layer of blood. You sniffle, the only light left to illuminate you ritual candles and moon as you turn your head back to your party. 

“Uhm,” Your voice is coarse, thick with exhaustion and tears. Wyll stares at you in awestruck silence “We should probably talk.” 

_ 

“So,” Gale’s voice and the obvious exasperation in it is enough to make Wyll feel sorry for you. You’re sitting at the campfire, finally clothed - with a blanket around your shoulder and Astarion tending to your wounds. “We have a Sharran, a vampire spawn, a werewolf, and a githyanki. Anything else we need to check off before we apply for a tent at the circus?” 

Karlach takes the empty seat next to you, wanting to wrap her hand around the fluffy base of your tail and frowning when she realizes she can’t. Your ears are folded down, the corners of your eyes still wet with tears. You lean into Karlach’s heat, just enough to feel it. 

 The air is cool, thick with the scent of dirt and smoke. The campfire licks with light flames, surrounded by half cut logs for extra seating. You, Astarion, and Karlach crowd on a single half - draped with an extra bedroll for cushion. 

“Don’t be so harsh on them, Gale,” Karlach says, glancing over at you “It’s hardly like they’re a threat to us. I mean.. look at them.” 

Your frown deepens as you hang your head in shame. 

“I thought we were past this, no? I mean we’ve all already been honest with each other so far. It’s a little late to be keeping something like this a secret is it not?” 

“That’s true,” Wyll interjects, standing next to Gale across from the three of you - staring at your curled up form with sympathy. “I really don’t understand why you hid it for this long. Surely, you could’ve told us earlier?” 

Your voice is weak and unusually frail. “The opportunity never presented itself.” 

“You could have mentioned it when Astarion told us he was a vampire?” Wyll suggests. 

“I didn’t want to steal his thunder, you know? Felt a bit rude, really.” 

Astarion laughs, clearly wanting to laugh himself into hysterics but having enough tact not to do so. “Not a thing in that head of yours aside from our parasite, is there darling? But you know, I’m quite delighted by this revelation.

“Really?” 

“Now we’ve got two monsters at our camp as opposed to just one! Evens out the playing field, in case things go south.” 

“I’m not a monster,” You murmur, pouting. “And I don’t think you are either, for the record. I’m just a shifter. And my goddess is kind.”

“Oh? And who would that be?” Gale asks somewhat bitterly.

“Selune,” Shadowheart pipes up this time, for the first time since your arrival back to camp. Emerges from her own tent in the corner like a ghost. Her arms are crossed, brows pinched into a tight face of displeasure “She has a network of werewolves in her ranks. You’re one of them, aren’t you?” 

You look up at her saddened, like a kicked puppy for lack of a better word, casting your gaze away from hers. Shadowheart looks ferocious, her appearance locked onto your pitiful form with a familiar angry smolder. Wyll can’t decide if you’ve done anything so grand as to earn her ire, even if you’re a Selunite werewolf. Though, given all that Wyll knows about her, that may as well be the greatest sin of all.

Your voice is tiny and high-pitched as you play with your hands in your lap “I didn’t intend to hide it from you but y-yes. I don’t bear any hatred towards you or other Shar followers, but uhm, well, I didn’t think you’d be very happy about it. A-and then, well you know, back in the grove you mentioned you hated wolves so, I just… planned on never shifting.” 

“You have control over something like that?” Wyll inquires. You nod, not looking up at him. 

“I was born as a werewolf, not turned. So the moon doesn’t affect me in the same way it would someone who was turned and I have more control over when it happens. I can shift in and out. Usually no problem but when I’m caught off guard like that,” You lift your tail and swing it from side to side as if to emphasize the point “Sometimes I mess it up.” 

“Chk. What a waste of ability. Think of how many we would’ve slaughtered had we known from the start.”

Wyll looks around. Everyone has gathered now, standing around the fire. 

“A werewolf… I know little of them. Wild shape magic is vastly different. I hope your condition does not cause you too much trouble. Or us, for that matter.” Halsin adds apologetically. 

“I didn’t intend for it to come out this way,,” You mumble pitifully. Shit, he really can’t help but feel bad. “I really did fully plan on keeping it to myself until the end. But, well, we were desperate. And I didn’t want to see anyone die,” 

“Given our circumstances, I think it would be amiss to scold you for your bravery,” Wyll supplements, trying to ease your worries. He does mean it. Regardless of what happened, you did save everyone. “Plus, we’ve all kept secrets here.” 

“Exactly right, soldier. Don’t beat yourself up about it,” 

“Wow, what sort of double standard is this? When I came out as a vampire, you people couldn’t stop talking about how afraid you were I was going to bite you!” Astarion says with an exaggerated frown. You smile at him weakly. 

Wyll gives him a disbelieving look. “Well you’re not exactly subtle about wanting to suck our blood, are you Astarion?” 

Astarion huffs. “Everyone here is so unfair.” 

Wyll laughs goodnaturedly, his eyes turning back onto you. He examines you in silent thought, his mind sifting over your last few months together. 

After Gale gets over his initial frustration, his curiosity gets the better of him. He rejoins everyone—across from you on an empty log and Wyll joins along with them. Shadowheart and Lae-zel come too, as does Halsin. 

Around the campfire, Gale pulls a book and quill from his tent before making himself comfortable. 

“Well since we’ve all made up, I am a little curious about your condition.” He admits. A very Gale thing to do, Wyll thinks. 

“I don’t mind any questions.” You reply gently. “It’s the least I can do.” 

The whole camp softens at your display. Surprisingly, Shadowheart is the first to ask a question.

“Is it more comfortable for you…in your wolf form?” 

You seem taken aback.. Though it dawns on you quickly why she would be asking that specifically. 

“Ah, kind of? My humanoid form is also me but it feels… limiting at times.” 

“Limiting?” 

“Eating meat without my  canines is a pain in my ass. Same with not being able to express myself with my ears or tail. I like traveling on my paws depending on the terrain.” You say, shaking your head. “It doesn’t bother me though mostly,” 

Gale’s quill hitting the paper makes a loud scratching sound. Astarion has a snarky comment about it that Wyll misses. He’s too preoccupied with other things. 

Hoping that you don't feel too badly about all this, for example. 

“Does it affect your daily life in any way?”  

“I don’t think so? I don’t know. It’s always been like this, so there’s nothing that different to me. I do notice how different I am around humans maybe,” You say, before perking up. You’ve just remembered something important. “Oh, but there is one thing.” 

“What is it?” Wyll asks. 

“My senses are much much sharper than other peoples. My sense of smell, especially.”

___ 

You remain together. Despite the mess.  Somehow. 

With this parasite in mind, and nothing left to lose - it’s better to stay together. Now that there are no important secrets kept hidden, the vibe is much more relaxed. The impending doom adds a layer of familiarity too. Wyll has often traveled with bands of strangers, but never for so long and with so many. 

It gives him a sense of familiarity. Home. What a foreign word. 

He thinks a lot of it is your contribution. They’re your pack, as you say so often. A special one with lots of different sorts of people. And you - you’re loyal to a fault. It helps. You and Karlach are a lot alike, but Wyll would venture to call you a little more tender. It helps fill in the gaps. 

Wyll knows you’re a werewolf but it’s hard not to think of you as a dog in that sense. A different dog to Scratch, maybe. But a dog all the same - with folded ears and a softail and propensity for drooling depending on the way you sleep. 

He’s only really reminded of the fact that you’re part wolf when you use your abilities in battles. It’s your failsafe. You only do it when you think it’s dire, and before that you air on the side of diplomacy. You’re a hunter should the need arise though. Sometimes you don’t transform completely. Where your usual canines are meant to linger in your mouth are a set of teeth too big for it. Instead of hands, sometimes there are soft paws with sharpened nails. 

There are three ways you can transform for that matter. Human, werewolf, or just wolf. Wyll finds these little distinctions fascinating, and more fascinating that you tend to opt for one end of the spectrum or the other. 

Wyll quickly learns some of your physical attributes are the same irregardless of what you look like. The fact you are agile and quick and strong, or the fact you can travel fast on all fours. The fact you like meat, and the fact you whine rather loudly when you’re upset. 

When you’re using your abilities, many would think you a ruthless killer. 

But after everyones cleared from harm, you’ll transform back into your usual human self - naked and covered in blood and frowning. You spit up meat that tastes bad and whine loudly if no one tells you good job.

(That job often falls on Wyll or Shadowheart. Gale or Karlach if they’re traveling with you. Astarion is only kind enough to do it in a semi-mocking way, but Wyll is keenly aware of how sincere his praise can be.) 

In moments like that, you’re just a dog again. A puppy, sometimes. Loyal. And novel, and interesting for many reasons. 

Wyll should expect your loyalty by now. He sees it so often, how unyielding and faithful you always are. To your goddess and to your pack and to whatever else you’ve deemed important to you. 

He should’ve known that you’d probably try to seek him out tonight, after everything that’s happened among all of you. 

He did watch you for a bit at the start. You worked clockwise through all of your companions, stopped in between for stories and gossip. Some of the tiefling kids wanted to see your tail and you’re too good a spirit to tell them no.

Wyll wouldn’t dare hope for you finding him, but he is a little relieved when you do. 

“Wyll! There you are,” 

 Wyll’s eyes snap up.

“Ah, Hells. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone,” He says regretfully. 

“Of course I noticed! How could I not notice our very own warlock disappear? It was no party without you.” 

Wyll wonders if you’re being sincere. He hopes you are. The night air is cool as the two of you share space. Away from the party, only sand and rubble between your feet. And a body of water that looks like it could go on forever. 

It’s a full moon tonight. 

“Really? I’m honored,” He peers out into the lake. Suddenly aware of his body, Wyll recoils into himself. The movement is subtle enough to be overlooked. The horns on the top of his head feel especially heavy. The skin pulled around the base of them throbs. It’s not painful, but it is unpleasant. “In truth, I don’t feel a festive mood and I didn’t want to cast a gray cloud over the night.” 

“Is it too intrusive for me to ask?” 

“Not at all,” Wyll assures. Your words are comfortable and soft, concerned without being pitiful. “I’m a devil. I love the people of the grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays.” 

Wyll can hear his own somber. He doesn’t wince, but it's impossible to ignore. Even explaining himself only adds to his melancholy. He’s quiet for a while, his voice touched with a destitution and irony. And bitterness, maybe. 

You remain still and steady beside him. He can’t tear his gaze away from the endless water, comforted by its vastness. How it generally disregards him and distorts his reflection.

“You don’t want a devil at your party. Horns this sharp will pop the balloons you see. And the guests won’t take kindly to scars quite so monstrous.” He jokes, trying to keep his voice light. 

He doesn’t think he succeeds at it. 

Silence once more. Wyll can see you, but your expression is unchanged. Your eyes are clear underneath the ever changing moon. 

“You don’t unsettle me. You never have.” There’s conviction behind your words. They comfort him.

“If only half the world had half the heart you do.” Wyll tells you, and means every word. He tries to brighten up, waving you off. “Don’t let my introspection spoil your night. Off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.” 

He hopes it’s enough to get you to forget about him for tonight. 

When you walk off, Wyll is expecting you to disappear. It’s enough that you’ve checked on him. He would’ve been content with it, left to reflect on his troubles alone. You’ve done something significant with your reassurance. He isn’t so tactless to keep you from celebrating. even when he would maybe want more time with you. 

You return to him though. With a bottle of wine, and a bedroll you spread in the empty sand next to him. You give him an unreadable look followed by a cheeky smile, making yourself comfortable on the ground. 

“Come on. Sit.”

Confused, Wyll sits. You open the bottle of wine with your teeth as a cork and drink from the top before passing it over to him. He takes it from you and stares at the place you’ve just drank from. You start to talk while he debates mimicking you.

“You don’t have to pretend it’s less difficult than it is,” You say almost thoughtlessly. Almost. “You’ve lost your body. Yourself. That must be hard.” 

Wyll looks at you, then back at the colored glass of the bottle. He clears his throat. “It is. More than I imagined it to be.” 

“You know, I was born a werewolf. And I had just about the best circumstances a person could have with that in mind. Selune accepts me and my clergy was mostly kind. Still, I heard the word monster a lot from people outside my circle. I could feel the distrust that I incited in outsiders. So, I won’t pretend to know exactly what you’re going through,” You say, your legs stretched out far into the sand, past the confinement of a tiny square bedroll “But I do know what it’s like to feel accused when you’ve done nothing wrong. You especially, Blade of Frontiers. I think you’re allowed to grieve the trust it feels like you’ve lost, or might lose. If it’s worth anything, though, I know you’re not a monster.” 

Wyll barely gets a chance to process the words as they come. He wonders if this is what people mean by feeling seen by someone else. “You know?” 

“Damn right I know,” Your response comes without hesitation. The night air blows along his skin, a soft and tender caress. Wyll frowns when you don't elaborate.

“How could you know something like that?” He asks.

“Lotsa reasons. You’re still nice and thoughtful and caring and charming. But, hm, well the most obvious reason is a little more primitive.” You take a deep inhale. “Your scent,” 

“...I’m sorry?” 

Your laugh is bright, and bubbly. 

“Your scent,” You repeat calmly, taking a deep sigh after saying it. “Everyone at camp has a scent. It’s a little abstract, but they change when people change. Shadowheart smells the leaves of black currant and uh, Halsin smells like sequoia wood. Lae’zel smells like black tea and metal. Gale smells like licorice. Astarion smells a lot like applemint. Karlach smells like smoke and star anise,” 

Wyll finds himself both awestruck and amused.

“These are all rather specific,” 

“I’ve always been a bit of a bloodhound so I’ve developed a talent at identifying specifics. It was shitty when I was a runt. Even a trip outside could give me the worst fuckin’ headache, but it got better the more I got used to it.” You give Wyll a glance “Anyways. Scent changes. When someone changes, their scent does too. Moods and days and everything affect it too.” 

“And mine hasn’t changed, is what you’re saying?” 

“No. Not in the way that’d make you different. It’s stronger, but it hasn’t changed. You haven’t changed.” You say quietly, and take a deep breath. “Not to me at least.” 

“You’ve conveniently left out my scent from your description.” Wyll says with fond amusement. He feels reassured. It’s absurd, yet Wyll is so inclined to believe you. “Is it something so awful?” 

You flush, suddenly becoming timid. 

“Yours is… good,” You say simply, and softly. You seem embarrassed to continue. He can’t help but find it so incredibly endearing. “It’s just harder for me to describe. But it’s good. It’s personally my favorite. “ 

You add the last part a little quieter. 

“And it hasn’t changed,” Wyll says more than asks this time. 

“No. Stronger, but the same.” You curl in on yourself, crossing your legs as you turn your head to face him, head tilted towards one side with a smile. “You’re not a devil to me. Just Wyll. And I like just Wyll.”

Wyll feels his chest tight as you lean your head on your shoulder contentedly. He tries not to read it into, hoping you can’t hear how loudly his heart is pounding. He takes a drink from the wine bottle straight, the same place your lips touched moments ago. 

He likes you, too. The words don’t come out right. 

“Yes…I’m,” He’s speechless, hands folded in his lap as he stares at you. “Me too. Our journey together has proved important to me. Thank you.” 

You smile but don’t say anything more.

___

With the goblin camp clear, the journey towards the Shadowfell lands becomes increasingly pervasive. You’ve done more traveling and less resting in the last few weeks than you have thus far in your journey. 

Smoke clouds in the horizon are what draw you to Waukeens rest. 

On your way to the mountain pass, for easy access to the city, lay a massacre of bodies and fire. The distress has far from subsided. The thick smog continues to build, folds into itself like massive heaps of wool - suffocating everything on every path in its surroundings. The smell of ash is invasive, even from a fair distance away. 

Blood trails from one end of the path towards the main entrance. As your party’s distance begins to close in, Wyll feels his lungs fill up with a familiar tightness. The burning air makes his eyes and lungs sting.

“Shit, the fire is still burning. There must still be people in need of aid. We should,” You cough hard as you look at what's in front of you. Eyes squinted trying to make out the horizon. “We should get there and see if we can aid them,” 

Astarion groans “For just one day, could we rest? Leave this nonsense up to the other wandering travelers desperate for recognition? Is that asking so much?” 

“As long as I’m pinning down bodies for you to feed off, you’ve got to listen to me, you know? You laugh warmly at his sarcasm. “Now, If you don’t stop complaining you’ll fall behind, pretty boy, and there’ll be not a thing left for you to suck dry.” 

“I should report you for that, you know. Threats of starvation against the imprisoned violate the law,” 

You laugh a little as you start to make your way forward. The four of you jog towards the entrance of Waukeens rest with urgency, more yours and Wyll’s than Astarion’s and Shadowheart’s.

Among the scenery at the front entrance of Waukeens rest - what concerns Wyll most is not the death. Not the bodies ashen among flame or the flames themselves that continue to widen and encompass. It is that, among those bodies, are members of the Flaming Fist. Past the sour memory of his life comes the worry, the fear. 

What in the Hells are the Flaming Fist doing around this area?

Away from the woman praying over a body, are a small number of Fist’s pushing on the doorway of a locked and burning building. You’re quick to run to it. Wyll barely keeps up. 

Before you can ask about the situation at hand, a Flaming Fist member addresses you and your party. 

“Grand Duke Ravengard could be inside, don’t just stand there - push!” 

Wyll’s voice betrays him, speaking before he has a minute to think. “Ravengard? He’s here?” 

“Yes, now make yourself useful- push, damn it, push!”

Wordlessly from next to him, you gear yourself up and push kick the door in. Strong enough that the wood crumbles to nothing, Wyll watches the doors open wide and the flames that lick at the inside of the building. A cloud of smoke billows out as the Flaming Fist pour in, your party quick to follow in alongside them. 

Through the thickets of smoke and up stairs half-broken, sounds Counselor Florrick's voice from behind the broken door. Maneuvering through ember and broken floorboard, you proceed the same as you did before. Pushing through the crowd of people surrounding the door - you use your foot and kick the door in again, causing it to break nearly instantly. 

Counselor Florrick coughs as she makes her way outside.

“Come. I’m afraid proper thanks must wait,” She says with a heaved breath. It’s too clouded with smoke for Wyll to make anything of her face and Wyll can only assume that is the case both ways. 

Back down through the way you came, you take a deep inhale of smoke and cough. The scent must be nauseating, far too much for you - but you don’t let it show through your face. 

Once everyone has been accounted for outside, Counselor Florrick approaches your party in the broad daylight of the courtyard. It’s there she recognizes Wyll. 

“Hold on,” Wyll says, reaching into his pack. He hands you a sachet of herbs he’d purchased alongside you from a merchant in the goblin camp. “For your nose,” 

You give him a look of surprise, your ears perking up and tails swishing as you take it from him gratefully, holding it up to your nose for a deep breath. 

“Fuck, thank you.” You reply gratefully. Wyll nods in reply.

“Counsellor Florrick - are you alright?” Wyll says first, concern pouring through. Regardless of all else. 

It’s clear right away, the horror in his face once she’s seen what’s become of him. Wyll lets it roll off of his back, the momentary sting not enough to make him flinch. It’s a reminder to start adjusting to what will be one of many. 

Her sympathy is tangible, though it doesn’t make Wyll feel better. 

“Wyll - by the Maimed God, what’s become of you?” 

He shakes his head to dismiss the thought.  “A story best left for calmer days. Now breathe deeply, are you in pain?”

“A scorched throat, a few hairs singed off. Nothing a bit of time and fresh air can’t cure.” 

Wyll’s shoulder sag with relief.  She turns to address the Flaming Fist accompanying her. 

“Gauntlet, a new duty calls. Drow have taken Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard - westward if my eyes and ears can be believed.” She pauses, thinking before giving further instruction “Report to the manip and send for reinforcements. We must find the Grand Duke.” 

“On your command, Counsellor.” The head of the Gauntlet affirms, bowing their head before taking off. 

It’s there that Wyll feels panic. Uncertainty like nothing he’s felt in the last seven years. Maybe longer. No longer a passing thought or a sour memory, concern for his father washes out what might’ve been grief.

“No. It can’t be. You mean, they’ve taken -” 

Counselor Florrick's expression darkens. “Yes, Wyll. The drow have your father.” 

“Shit, what? Wyll, you’re a noble?” You interject for the first time in the conversation. When Wyll turns to you, above all else is concern. He shakes his head.

“The circumstances of my birth are no matter of pride for neither me nor my father. But pride is no reason to refuse help to my own flesh and blood. How can we help?.” 

“Rescue Ravengard from his drow captors. Baldur's Gate needs him, now more than ever,” She says, addressing you primarily and Wyll after. She pauses to examine Wyll a second time, like now that she’s out of the smoke she is really looking. 

A passing glance of her brings back memories of a childhood long forgotten. Days spent in courtyards training the sword and waiting for father to finish his duties. An ache starts to form in the cavity of his chest, but Wyll swallows it. 

Where duty calls, it is only common sense the Blade will answer. He holds a fist over his heart and bows. 

“Trust us to see it through, Counsellor.” 

“Who is this Duke Ravengard?” You ask, finally - though it’s not to him. Rather it’s to the Counselor. Wyll wonders if that’s a choice you’ve made on purpose. 

“The invisible force holding Baldur’s Gate together. Without him, the city’s collapse is certain.” She pauses, looking troubled “I fear that may have been the intention of those who abducted him.” 

“Shit. Then, not to be rude, but why entrust this to me? You have others at your command. More well equipped, I’d imagine,” You ask, bearing no hostility. A fair enough question for you, head of pack, with concerns for everyone else. 

“Isn’t it clear? You travel with the Blade of Frontiers. Who might I trust, if not a legend? Who might rise to the moment, if not Ravengard’s own son?”

You pause to mull over her reply. Your brow is furrowed in concentration, before your focus returns to the Counselor.

“I don’t think the drow have taken him back to Menzoberranzan. More likely they’ve taken the Duke to Moonrise Towers.”  You say tentatively. “Though Hells, I can’t be sure. Goblin’s bein’ here is weird and their affairs are tied together somehow. Plus, the drow we’ve met in this area so far have relations to other cultist bullshit,” 

“I was thinking the same,” Wyll adds. 

“Moonrise Towers? Along the old road? That place is cursed, few could survive there…unless darker forces are at work,” She pauses, taking a moment to assess the situation “This was no random attack, then. The Grand Duke was their target.” 

After more deliberating, you look firmly at the Counselor and nod - a serious promise. 

“Moonmaiden guide us - we’ll head to Moonrise towers and find Duke Ravengard. Though for now, I won’t promise  anything.” 

“Thank you. When the Grand Duke returns to the city, he’ll hail his only son a hero.” She says with a deep breath “Approach the towers with care. The land itself has been swallowed in shadow.”

She turns to address him this time “Remember Wyll. ‘Courage is found in the battle against fear, not in the defeat of it.’”

“So father said. I won’t soon forget it.”

“We’ll be heading off now, towards the towers. Take care of yourself.” 

“You too, Counselor Florrick.” 

With that, the Florrick disappears back out into the smoke and open road. Left in the aftermath is the rest of the party, not barring you - and Wyll with nothing but worry. 

Your eyes find Wyll’s with ease, filled to the brim with concern. Wyll casts his gaze away instinctively. 

“Shit,” Wyll swears, unsure of what the reaction from you will be.

“Wyll,” Your voice calls and soothes. Before his response forms in his mouth, he feels a hand on the nape of his neck. In a sudden movement, you lean into him. Even amongst the swallowing heat of fire and ember - Wyll is conscious of your skin. The scrapes and cuts on your fingers raised press against his own. You inhale a long breath and Wyll realizes what you’re doing. It’s confirmation when you pull away and glance at him seriously. “Can I trust you to tell me what’s going on?” 

The question itself is exposing. It’s a raw nerve, split open, tender and unhealed. There’s no shame in it. Or maybe there is, always has been - and Wyll has spent nearly seven years outrunning it. This much he knows - he never intended to show you this part of himself.

And he knows that this is not the first time he’s betrayed your trust. You ask Wyll to trust you, and Wyll wants to explain he always has. 

There is no betrayal in your face, no disappointment.

You come to him ready to receive anything. Crystal clear eyes and a sincerity in your heart - there is so much said in so little. 

“I’m sorry. It was never,” He’s struck by grief in a sudden moment. You’re kind, but it goes well beyond just that. “I had no intent to hide it.” 

“But you had no intent to share it either,” You say, your voice soft-spoken and tender. Forgiving, though you don’t make Wyll feel like there’s something he needs forgiveness for. “It’s okay. We’re damn similar sometimes aren't we?” 

When you let go of Wyll, he stares at you. Wide-mouthed and unsure of himself. For a brief moment, his surroundings become blurry. There’s no one else in the party. There’s no smoke. There’s no fire. No ash. For a brief moment, there’s just you - and you’re smiling.  You feel like forgiveness. 

“Florrick spoke true,” Wyll affirms, unsure of what to do with himself. “I am a Grand Duke’s son.” 

“Not just a grand duke - Ravengard has more power and influence than anyone.” Astarion adds. 

“My father and I were close. Once upon a time. Until he disowned me and cast me out of Baldur’s Gate,” Wyll says with a hardened heart. He’s forgiven his father. He’s spent years rationalizing the choice he made. But he’s reminded in an instant that the wound is still tender. “I can’t tell you more - the pact forbids it. My lips are quite literally sealed.” 

“Okay,” You give Wyll a look, clear and bright. “Then, Wyll - do you want to save your father?” 

He wasn’t expecting that to be your only question. It must show that he’s taken aback, but you remain where you are unflinching. 

“Yes, I—yes. Regardless of our relationship, he remains my flesh and blood.” You press your lips together, an encouraging half smile, prompting him. “And I don’t want him to fall into the hands of Absolutists for any reason. He made me an exile, but I’m not about to let him suffer at the hands of his captors.”

“Alright. Then we’ll save him,” You brush over the weight of that sentence, addressing your other companions. “The only lead we’ve got so far is Moonrise towers, so we’ll stick to our original plans. Visiting the creche and then traveling through the Underdark.” 

Wyll stares at you as you continue to talk, the words feeling like little more than noise. Lost in thought, you let him remain undisturbed. When your eyes meet, you don’t do anything more than grin - fang poking out form underneath your lip. 

And it’s the second time in his life, Wyll feels like you’re seeing something he can’t. Himself, maybe.

__ 

A confrontation with the githyanki and a red dragon later, you return to camp the night of visiting Waukeen’s rest.

When night falls, you join Wyll in his tent. The gesture is innocent. You ask about having a sleepover. Wyll tries to remember there’s nothing but friendship between you. Eventually helets you into the cramped space of his tent. There’s barely enough space for you both, but you manage.

Before bed, you ask Wyll to tell you about himself. Anything he can afford to tell you. For a long while, he talks about being the Blade of Frontiers. But then, when it’s late enough and the gap between you continues to shrink - he talks about his life in the city. It doesn’t happen on purpose. Wyll is hardly so ungentlemanly. It’s unlike him to cluelessly go on and on about himself. 

You just happen to know exactly the right questions. Before Wyll knows it, he’s telling you about all of his escapades. His life as a nobleman's son and escaping to fraternize with lower city youth.

Wyll can’t disclose his pact to you, but he can tell you about the kiss he had at fifteen. He can tell you about the first time he lost a tooth, or describe the well-worn picture of his late mother in his fathers wallet. For a while, Wyll recounts tales of a life he’d thought he’d abandoned. When the words come out, they don’t feel like violence. Don’t coat his mouth with the bitter taste of iron. Instead they taste light like memories, and come out just as soft. 

He doesn’t remember when either of you drift off to sleep. 

When morning comes and Wyll finds you still in his tent, he feels the ability to claim plausible deniability drift away from him. 

You mean more to him than he thought. The moment passes to tell you. 

___ 

The journey to the Underdark is never an easy one. 

Underneath the desecrated Selune temple was the beaten path. A long ladder down through a broken Selunite outpost. Not only have you all fought a spectator, a bullete, several hook horrors and an entire beach of duegars - you’ve just slaughtered an Absolutist leader with your bare hands. 

The remaining duegar have fled the scene after a night to recover, leaving Nere’s body for the lot of you to loot. The gnomes have gone too. Wyll tries to hold confidence all of them will make it in one piece. 

The Sovereign had made his request clear, slaughter Nere and bring his head. Wyll has watched you kill and devour several bodies in your time together, but there’s something novel about watching you do it now. A knife, pulled out from your sheath - sharp as it cuts and saws through the flesh. It’s a clean, precise slice. Nothing like you, Wyll thinks fondly. 

He can surmise that it’s because you’re rather fond of the myconid colony. They’re kind to you and you are always fond of those who are kind. In that way you’re easy to appease. But he didn’t know you were capable of this level of care. You tend to be matted and ruddy. Generally messy. 

Wyll likes you that way. 

The head comes off the body unceremoniously. You wrap a cloth underneath the bottom, and tuck it in your pack along some cubes of ice you had Gale make you with magic that morning. 

Wyll only sees the outline of your back. He watches as you stretch your palms out and examine them for blood. When you find none, you turn around with a little tired sigh.

Promptly, you prop yourself onto Shadowheart. Your ear and tails have made a reappearance, your chin resting on her shoulder. 

“I'm tiiiiiiiiired,” You whine, long and drawn out. Your teeth stick out from your lips when you pout, Wyll notices. The heat of the forge and all of the surrounding lava have your skin sticky with sweat. The deep purple of the destroyed Sharran enclave feels out of place among the fires “I don’t want to go to the Shadowfell lands. I won’t. You can’t make me,” 

You’ve picked up a habit of being touchy. You tend to cling to Shadowheart, which Wyll finds ironic. Even with her cold exterior, the half-elf doesn’t push you off when you hug or pester her. You make promises to Karlach you’ll join her for it once her engines all fixed. Lae’zel finds it pointless. Halsin doesn’t mind, and likes to turn into a bear so all the furry creatures at camp can turn into big pile. 

Gale also doesn’t mind, but the wizard usually airs on the side of embarrassment - a faint blush crawling over him whenever you wrap yourself thoughtlessly about him. Astarion pretends to reject it, but willingly pets and scratches you when he feels less combative. Something you happily recieve.

And Wyll… well, it doesn’t bother him. You approach him often enough, and he’d be hard-pressed on a reason to reject you. 

(He ignores the way your touch seems to linger, unsure if he’s seeing things that don’t belong. Wyll is fond of you. Your heart is good - he thinks of you often  but he isn’t so sure that means something. Well it means plenty to him, but what of you? 

You like the sensation of physical affection, he reminds himself Nevermind the times you’ve fallen asleep as a wolf in his lap. Nevermind the occasional naps in his tent, or whines when he’s too busy to pay you mind.)

“You’re not ferocious at all, do you know? More like a drooling mutt than a werewolf,” Shadowheart huffs sarcastically. 

“What I lack in ferocity I make up for in vigor.” You reply with a hum, rubbing your cheek against Shadowheart’s shoulder. “And the situation doesn’t spark any vigor in me. We’ve already been underground this long and next we’re going somewhere even darker.” 

Astarion pipes up, sitting criss-cross onto the marbled floor in one of the few spots free of blood, sorting through his varied belongings and trinkets. “I would figure werewolves and vampires share their love for the darkness, no?” 

“We can’t see the moon well from either place. I need to see the moon to track some things related to my form. I count the phases in my head but if I don’t see it for too long - I start getting homesick like a man at sea.” You whine and huff again, this time peeling yourself off of Shadowheart and throwing yourself onto Wyll. 

He steadies himself enough not to topple over by your strength and weight as you drape yourself across his back. You nuzzle your cheek against him tenderly. It’s different to how you do it to Shadowheart or Astarion (when he’s not adamantly pushing you away.) It’s more tender, closer. Your nose brushes against the nape of his neck. Wyll doesn’t flinch, even at the warmth of your breath. You inhale again and Wyll can hear the swish of your tail.

He pretends to be ignorant of it and doesn’t push you away - instead laughing lightly. 

“Oh, Moonmaiden - let your moon be my light, and I shall let my sword be your shining symbol.” You  recite with a sigh. The words reverberate along his skin.  “Moon my love, you are terribly missed.” 

“Keep your Selunite prayer out of my ears, would you?” 

“Don’t be so moody, my cold blooded Sharran. Our Lady of SIlver is a kind and accepting goddess, so her blessing will extend even to you.” 

Shadowheart crinkles her nose. You laugh noisily next to Wyll’s ear. He smiles softly.

“After we’ve delivered the head to the Sovereign, we can travel back overhead before going into the Shadowfell. That way, you’ve had some time with the moon and we’re able to get in more rest before taking it on,” 

You pull away from him now, grabbing his shoulder to turn him around with a laugh. Wyll looks at you wide-eyed as you grin at him, knocking your foreheads together innocently.

“Ah, what a great idea! If everyone else is on board, then let’s make our way to the Sovereign now and recoup on the surface. We’ll return to Grymforge come mornin’ and head off that way. Is everyone on board with that?” 

You look around for affirmation before resting your gaze on Wyll with a smile. 

Wyll feels his heart tug slightly, returning your smile before averting his eyes. You scamper off to Astarion, attention easily pulled in every which way. Shadowheart saunters towards him. 

“You’re rather obvious, Blade of Frontiers. I thought a folk hero would have a little more suave about these matters.”

Wyll clears his throat. 

“...I don’t know what you’re referring too.” 

Shadowheart laughs good-naturedly. 

“Sure you don’t.” 

___

There are few times you take your proper werewolf form. 

It’s an accommodation thing from Wyll’s understanding. People are frightened less of full wolves or your humanoid forms. The hybridized version of yourself is what people find the most monstrous, and so - you’ve gotten used to putting on the shelf. 

The only time you take that form is when you hunt for meat. It’s easy enough to get ahold of other camp supplies - like liquor or vegetables if they’re lucky. But meat is hard to find, especially hard to find where it hasn’t got spoiled. Astarion hunts only out of necessity, so he’s not really any help. 

You hunt because it’s natural to you. A life of pilgrimage and spent in a Selunite enclave has gifted you the knowledge of preserving meats, too. When you’re camped out near enough forest - you’ll hunt. Most often before a long stretch of travel, you’ll go into the woods alone and disappear - returning with a feast. No one goes with you. In the forest, among fallen trees and soil - you’ll gut and skin the prey. You’ll bring back the final products, clean hides and things to turn to leather and meat ready for curing. It’s to prevent any more unusual bloodshed from occurring at camp. More sanitary, you always say. 

Wyll has no intention of following you tonight while he knows you’re hunting. His interest in the woods is to scope them out one last time before you leave this place for good, keep it in his memory and prepare for the road ahead. 

When he hears the sound of a faint growling, he thinks for a minute you’ve been injured or are in some kind of danger. 

The moon is shining just enough to cast light on your form. He figures out quickly you’re safe.

There’s nothing new to see. Thick, crimson blood makes a mess of your appearance - dripping down your fangs. It sticks and matts in your fur, covering your face in messy splatters. Your werewolf form is your most monstrous. Unnatural limbs and features - a form like a human but the face and ferocity of a wolf. 

In front of you are corpses of animals, bled out and laid in a pile. The scent of blood is so strong Wyll can smell it from a distance away. It’s a distance you’d usually be able to smell Wyll from, but it must be masked by the smell of copper and flesh. 

The moon has waned, nearly to its fullest. You turn yourself towards the black sky of midnight, towards the moon - and you howl. It is a loud, tremendous sound. 

Wyll has never heard you howl before. It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard in his life. An elongated melody, deep from your chest - high and throaty. You howl to the sky. You howl to the moon. To your goddess, most certainly. You howl in the version of yourself everyone finds most disgusting. The monster in you is alive and bare-chested to the world. Stood on your two feet, all matted fur and eyes like beams of light - you howl towards the sky.

And Wyll watches. Listens. Commits the sound to memory. 

In the version of yourself that is so embraced by monstrosity, you howl like a song to the moon you so adore.

He’s never found you so beautiful. 

___

Time moves differently in the Shadowfell lands. 

Slower. In every other part of Fae’run, the nights and days don’t blur into each other. But here, in the abandoned and unyielding darkness - everything feels thick. Muddy. The soil that does not dampen, the trees that do not grow leaves. Instead of preserved amber, there is only shadow. It swallows everything, every place in the land. 

The upward battle of survival persists. The Harpers have (barely) welcomed you into the Last Light Inn. Flaming Fist Marcus is dead, and the Moon Maiden has given her her blessing. You’ve even been able to give Karlach her first upgrade. 

The air speaks for itself though, that you’re nearing something important. The beginning of something. Or the end, though Wyll sways towards hope and optimism. 

In the presence of darkness and solace, -Wyll finds that you remain yourself. Bright and clear and comforting, even in the face of impending doom. 

Your camp in the Shadowfell lands is brightened by artificial lights. It spans over more land now. The main area which hosts all of your companions lies at the foot of an abandoned building. An abandoned house, torn by vines of shadowfell and roots. The base of camp is spread over dusty ashen floors, everything colored gray. 

When it’s time to rest, most lights remain on. He finds it’s easier to sleep with Selune’s blessing. 

Tonight, Wyll can't get any rest at all. He’s still awake while his companions have fallen asleep. He opens his eyes to the skies. They lack the deep shades of purple of a normal night sky, unmistakably dark.

His eyes remain lidded as he takes a look at his surroundings. Shadowheart is asleep, and Astarion is deep enough in meditation that Wyll doubts he’d noticed if he walked off. Among his companions, you’re missing from your bedroll. 

Wyll sits up as quietly as he can. He looks towards your tent, to see if you’ve woken up to sleep inside - but doesn’t find you there either. His brow tightens, shoulders tense as he blinks rapidly trying to wake himself up. 

There aren’t many places in this camp to go, despite the terrain being wider. The other tent occupants remain in place. From where Wyll stands you’re not with anyone else like Karlach or Halsin. 

There’s only one more place that would leave you.

Through a curve and another straight path are wood stairs. At the top is a skeleton of an old house. One that stood long before the curse, and remains long after. 

Wyll has never gone there on his own. He only saw it once while they’d settled in for the first time. There’s nothing inside of it. A fireplace, a broken cupboard and cabinet. A table and chair, and two old beds that have gone rickety overtime. 

He ducks his head as he enters through what must’ve once been a door. 

It occurs to him he’s never really seen you pray. Not fully at least. Though you utter it on occasion, the words of your goddess - you tend to speak them lightly. Wyll gathers its out of respect for Shadowheart. 

He finds you on the edge of a large bed in the center of the room. You’re in your humanoid form, with only your ears and tail and teeth - your hands are clasped tightly around a necklace. The fireplace is burning, but it’s not what illuminates you.

All around you though is a pale blue glow, like the moon itself has surrounded you with all of its might. You’re quiet in incantation  - the warmth of a smile lighting up your features. You’re not in your usual nightwear of a loose shirt and pants. Instead you wear the silk of a slip and something like a Selunite robe, open. Wyll has seen so much of your skin before, everything past your knees barren. But its a new feeling. Your neck and shoulders are just the same, your hand on your chest ducking from view.

You breathe deeply, before your eyes flutter open and see him at the door. You smile at him.

“You’re awake,” You say first, letting go of the necklace chain. “Hope everything’s alright?” 

“Sorry. And yes, everything is fine - I had just woken up and couldn’t find you,” Wyll feels flush as he adds the rest to the conversation “And I uhm. Well I was worried something might have happened.” 

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I figured everyone would be asleep so I didn’t bother telling anyone,” You say apologetically “Our Silver Lady called to me so I felt I ought to answer.”

You pause before laughing. “Wait, sit first. Unless you’re going back to sleep right away.” 

Wyll shakes his head as your grin widens making his heart feel rather funny. 

He sits next to you, fond as you bring your leg up and face him. Your back rests on the broken wood at the foot of the bed. You’ve tidied the room a bit, and these sheets don’t have as much dust as they did when you first got here. 

Wyll mirrors your actions, sitting with a leg up - bent at the knee as he stares at you. 

“You said your goddess called to you?”

“Ah, yes,” Your voice is uncharacteristically shy. Wyll can’t help but stare at the bare crook of your knees. “Shadowheart had mentioned it. There’s something in these lands. And well,   wherever Shar goes, Selune will follow and all. Don’t really know what it means, though. Bit of mystery.” 

“You’re a cleric, right?” Wyll asks, taking a brief moment to assess and remember all the little details about yourself you’ve told him. 

When he thinks of it, there’s so much about you he doesn’t know. Though he feels you know everything there is to know about him. It’s not that you’re secretive, but it’s rare to get a moment alone. Harder to find a moment appropriate to air out your past. 

Alone with you in this shadowy, dimly lit room - Wyll hopes time will slow. Long enough to know something more about you, at least.  

“Right. I try not to crutch too much on my magic so I tend to stick to fighting,” You say with a laugh “I also had to learn physical combat and martial arts. It feels like a waste not to use.” 

“I see,” Wyll says with a thoughtful hum “But you are a cleric, all the same. Quite an impressive title to bestow on someone, I’d imagine.” 

“Ah, truthfully - I find it a bit difficult,” You reply sheepishly, surprising Wyll.“I’m sort of simple, all things considered. I thought I’d be my Lady’s sword or just part of her clergy, but I never imagined I’d do anything so important. Or have powers so great.” 

The sound of your voice feels especially pleasant to Wyll like this, murmurs just between you with no threat of doom. Like between these broken wooden planks, is a peace impenetrable. He likes being with you.

“Before your capture, were you? Set out to do something important, I mean,” 

“Importance is relative. But, it was a mission I was proud taking,” You reply thoughtfully. A confirmation of the sanctity in your character for you to make such a distinction. “I had been sent by my clergy to wander Faerun - to aid other lycanthropes and those touched by madness or ailment. 

“You alone had been sent?

You nod, staring down at your hands folded in your lap. 

“Aye, me alone. I’d wandered around for several years when I was sent away before the ship had captured me. I was on my way to Baldur’s Gate as part of it,” 

“Where do you hail from?” 

“Amn. There’s a few small Selunite enclaves there. Mama was a Silverstar, which is mostly a pretty word for a very powerful priestess. My fate was divined when I was seventeen and the rest is history.” 

“Seventeen is young. What was your final destination then? Or was it more of a wandering practice.” 

“After some years, I was hoping to get to Waterdeep actually. Big church for Selune over there, very beautiful.” Your voice teeters on wistful, blooming with longing and nostalgia. You peek at Wyll through your lashes. “In that way, we have a lot in common.” 

“A lot in common. Do you really think so?” 

“Mm, I do. Banished at seventeen, a monster inside us, some sort of tragic background. We make a fun pair.”

“I didn’t know there was a tragic story in yours. To the extent you could call it one,” Wyll says quietly. You give Wyll a look. Though he doesn’t pressure you to expand on it, you seem relaxed enough to talk about it. 

You close your eyes briefly, letting them flutter open. 

“It was a year into my pilgrimage, I think,” You explore, a soft sadness tender in your expression. Wyll sits up a little straighter, readying himself to receive whatever you wish to tell him. “A small village in the Dalelands. Young girl, about seven. Her village had ostracized her. By the time I arrived, she was emaciated. Clever little thing had survived on her own but barely,” 

Wyll waits patiently for you to continue, not wanting to interrupt you even briefly. He softens his gaze.  

“Anyway. When I go anywhere new, the basic practice is meeting locals. Depending on the circumstances, I won’t always disclose my wolven ways. Some people - they need guidance, others they need protection. In her case, she needed both,” You look far away somehow. Wyll feels empathy as much as he feels warmth. Your care for the human condition, he always finds, touches him. “She was much smarter than me, you know. Her lycanthropy was inherited like mine, but because she was so young - she had a difficult time controlling it.” 

You pause to take a long, deep, steadying breath. “She was my little genius. I cared for her  an awful lot. Still do. She beat me at lanceboard all the time, despite being seven and I wasn’t even letting her win you know.” 

“She must’ve been even more brilliant than I could imagine.” Wyll offers. You nod. 

“Despite my efforts, the relationship between her and her village wasn’t getting better. One day, I’d left her in my chambers for a while - to bring something back from a market nearby. Less than a few hours, and she’d been uhm,” Your voice starts to close. Wyll follows his instinct, squeezing your hand where it rests on your knee. It’s shaking when he reaches for it. He thinks briefly about kissing it. “She’d been killed,” 

Wyll pauses, lets you collect yourself. But he wants to know as much as you’ll tell him. 

“It was easy enough to figure out who’d done it. And in small villages like that, the hivemind bullshit and paranoia really gets to people,” Your voice intones on bitterness. Angry and heartbroken, you continue “Grown men raising an ax to kill a little girl. I almost lost my mind. I should’ve.” 

“But you didnt…? Or did you? In a situation like that, well,” Wyll looks at you sympathetically. “Any choice you made I wouldn’t hold it against you.” 

“I only punished the one who killed her. I didn’t kill him no matter how much I wanted to. I don’t think she would’ve wanted that. Not her or my goddess,” You say with a deep sigh. “I used my magic and blinded him. Made an example out of him and reprimanded the rest of those fucking idiots.” 

“And after?” 

You clear your throat, but smile at him. Like you’re grateful he hasn’t recoiled from it.

“After, I buried her body in the soft earth, in the place where the moon shone most brightly - and mourned. Her death was so severe I couldn’t revive or heal her, I just buried…her. I thought about doing plenty of other shit. To kill, to chase, to defend - but ultimately, it felt more…meaningful just to… bury her.” 

Wyll frowns, pausing. He squeezes your hand, eyes closed. Brows furrowed as he looks down. 

“I’m sorry,” 

You smile at him. Noticing the hand in yours finally, you even flush - though the moment passes quickly. Wyll stares at you in quiet, wondering if his eyes alone could tell you all he’s thinking. With you, his silver tongue is absent. His mouth is weighed too heavily with feelings sincere, with words meaningful. 

Wyll cannot offer you cleverness or comfort where he wishes to offer you honesty. 

“That night, the Moonmaiden had called to me. Just like today. It’s hard to explain what it feels like?  Like a cool hand on feverish skin. It was a revelation for me. I had suddenly felt so empty. And, after some sobbing, I’d realized something,” You say whimsically, drawing circles into the back of Wyll’s hand. 

“What did you realize?” He prompts. 

“Our Lady of Silver believes in the carving and following of our own path. But, what had I done but what was told of me? All my life I’d spent in the temple, in the monastery - among people of my own faith and beliefs. In the moment in which I felt so much anger, I didn’t know what to do. I was lost. I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel. Not on purpose, but that was the truth. I swore myself too soon to duty rather than the convictions of my heart—I’d lacked real purpose.”

Wyll smiles at you, brightened by the gusto in which you speak. He’s endeared by you all too easily. 

“And the convictions of your heart? Have you found them?” He asks, head tilted. 

“Not all of them. But you know I figured out one thing. I want to make the world a less lonely place. Her death will never not bear weight on my mind, but her tiny hand thanking me for staying with her. That was something, I’m damn sure. Maybe all of it,” 

He stares at you, speaking in quiet murmurs. You’re glowing, he thinks. You must be. 

“It’s a noble thing to want. At least to me.” 

“I’m glad you think so. My goddess has given me these divine powers, so my duty will always be to help people. But more than that - I want to guide the sick and afraid like the Moonmaiden guides me. I want to make it less difficult for people.” 

“You’re awfully wise at times like this.” 

“Wise?” You laugh lightly. “I’ve never heard that for me before. More used to hearing stuff like hard-headed, pack runt, cry baby. So on and so forth. But I’ll cherish it before you change your mind.” 

“Do you feel fulfilled here? Becoming a hero of a city, saving so many people - surely that too aligns with your convictions” 

“Asking an awful lot about me,” You tease finally. Wyll is hard-pressed to deny it. It’s so obvious. “But I do. I’d say managing to become Astarion’s friend is a high enough accomplishment with regards to you know, my convictions and all. It’s honestly like my life’s work. He even pets me now. Willingly!”

Wyll laughs loudly at the sudden excitement in your voice. You haven’t let go of his hand, he notices. 

He hopes you don’t.

“Quite an impressive feat, certainly. But I am a little hurt. Does our bond not incite a similar sense of accomplishments and vigor in you?” He teases.

You pretend to consider it. 

“The Blade of Frontiers, my most important companion.” You respond, with just as much cheekiness. “Calling it an accomplishment might be too egotistical.” 

“What else do you suppose you’d call it?” 

“Fate, maybe,” You say, though your voice is hardly above a murmur now.  “Somehow, the fact we’ve met feels more like a very lucky chance, I reckon.” 

“You feel so strongly about it?” Wyll says, more than asks. Because somehow it feels too much like a dream. 

“Of course. I feel strongly about you in general,” You respond, and still don’t let go of his hand. You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “I feel strongly about us. And all we’ve seen, together. I feel strongly that regardless of all the darkness, the moon waits for me and that I’m very lucky to have met you.”

Wyll feels his heart jump into his throat. Hardly a confession, yet his heart pounds. The longing is ceaseless. 

In all the time you’ve spent together, Wyll has had all the time in the world to witness you. In your bravery and in your cowardice. At the best of yourself, and at the worst. Wyll has seen you lie when you’d rather be honest. He’s seen you cry countlessly for the deaths of people you’ve never known. He’s seen you tear through flesh and bone. He’s seen you as a furred creature laid on your back so Halsin would rub your stomach. He’s seen you as tenderly, achingly human. 

Wyll has seen so much of you. And perhaps more than that - you have seen so much of him. Parts of himself even he has no access to. A passing comment of how dashing his horns look, a pat on the shoulder when you pass a father and son. You see Wyll even when he forgets to see himself. 

Between you, there is no question that he is lucky. The luckiest man on Toril. 

“You know, when everything is through. Not if, but when,” Wyll says slowly and carefully. “I want to remain by your side. Wherever that road leads. I want us to be together or travel together. Though I don’t know what that would look like,” 

You give him a look of surprise, then a teasing smile - titling your head to one side. 

“I might go somewhere you don’t want to follow, Ravengard. I’m a wanderer at heart.” 

“Impossible. I’ve already followed you here, remember?” Wyll says with a smile, eyes meeting yours “As long as we’re together, no place is too dark nor too treacherous.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

“There’d be no greater honor.” 

__ 

When Myrkul falls, the world is silent. 

For a first time, in a long time - the Shadowfell lands do not whisper the regrets of the dead. Instead, the remaining shadow swallowing the world begins to finally clear. In gradual steps, life returns to the land at Moonrise. 

And this is in no small part thanks to you. 

Though, Wyll watches you as you insist the glory is split between your party equally.  You’re all heroes, and you couldn’t have done it without them by your side. Wyll knows you mean that.

 It was you who took down the foes at Moonrise towers in slow increments, that planned and slaughtered until there was nothing left of it. It was you who destroyed the Thorms one by one. You who allowed Wyll to break Mizora’s pact. You who completed the gauntlet of Shar, who saved the Nightsong with your own two hands. That helped Astarion with the letters on his back, and that prevented Gale from using his orb - because you were so certain you all could win without it. 

It was your touch and kindness that gave Shadowheart grace enough to throw away her Sharran roots, to throw away her past and embrace her own convictions just like you had promised to embrace yours. 

The world has not been saved. The journey to the end has only become more perilous. But in the palm of your hand is the Netherstone of the fallen general - and an entire allegiance waiting to follow you into battle. The world has not been saved, and it is only bound to get more treacherous. 

But for now, you’ve accomplished something great - and Wyll is proud to be alongside you for all of the rest, as you move onto things even greater. 

For now, all of you remain at camp. A two day extended break before venturing towards the city. Among your camp now is the famed harper Jaehira and more importantly - Dame Aylin, the chosen of your goddess. And the cleric Isobel, her lover, of course.

Dame Aylin’s arrival at your camp has sparked plenty of interesting conversations. Revelations of Shadowheart’s identity aside (something you’ve been helping her through), Dame Aylin is not just a fellow Selunite - but the daughter of your beloved goddess. Not only have you just saved her life, you’ve freed her from thousands of years of torment. 

Wyll doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so utterly awe-struck in your adventure together, even once. You’re a hard person to shake in many ways, and you’re excitable - but nearly never truly awestruck like the way you have been for the last two days. 

Wyll is listening in on the interaction from afar, only taking small peeks at you as you, Shadowheart, Dame Aylin and Isobel crowd around in your tent. Your tail is swishing so helplessly behind you Wyll can’t help but laugh.

“God. You’ve been staring like a dumb puppy for two days now,” Shadowheart teases, rubbing your head with her hand “You’re going to catch flies with your jaw like that.” 

“Ah, I’m sorry,” You say, a little embarrassed. Wyll smiles to himself as he pretends to read, thankful to be in earshot “I’m sorry, I’m just… It was already nice meeting another Selunite but…I could live a thousand lives and not meet you Miss Aylin.” 

“Your formality is misplaced. Aylin is just fine. We are comrades in all regards, both in our faith and in arms. I’m thankful you’ve given us a place to stay for the time being,” 

“Camp welcomes all as policy. It helps to have allies and in lands like these, seems a little cruel to leave people to the wilds. Though soon that won’t be an issue,” 

“You’ve accomplished something incredible,” Isobel praises. Wyll glances at you, a warmth settling in his chest at the surprise you seem to feel. “Lifting the curse from these lands, it was no small task.” 

“It was all of our contribution! I’m just glad we’re a little bit closer to getting rid of these pests.” You lament with a dramatic sigh “And I’m excited to be in a place where I can feel the presence of the moon again.” 

“It must be hard on you,” Isobel says sympathetically. You smile. 

“I can hardly imagine,” Aylin adds, shaking her head. “There is perhaps some small blessing in the fact you’re gifted with control, but the effects that these lands must have on your body. May She ease your burden.” 

Shadowheart gives you a look of confusion. “You know, you’ve mentioned this to me before - but I don’t actually know how it affects your conditions,” Her frown deepens. “A little hypocritical given how much you know about me at this point, I think.” 

You look surprised then flattered. “It was never worth mentioning. My body has certain cycles that are affected by the moon. Similar to the tide. After 6 tendays, I go through something like.. a fever as a result of a full moon. Though I’ve been suppressing it with medication, my body at a certain point needs to expel it.” 

“A fever?”

This catches Wyll’s attention. You’ve mentioned your condition in passing and always left the details vague (something Wyll is extra aware of given your love of being open in most everything) so this is the most he’s ever heard about it. He stops turning pages and tunes in completely. 

“Sort of. The details aren’t important, really. I’ve gone through it for years, so I’m more than used to it. Especially on the road,” You explain, waving your hand. “Silver Lady bless me, I don’t think it’ll begin until we’re in the city at least. Near civilization and all.” 

“Do you need anything from us?” Shadowheart probes with obv. Lately when it comes to you, she doesn’t bother feigning indifference. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m used to it! I was going to mention it though soon, so I guess it’s a good thing it came up,” You lean back on your palms, legs crossed as you close your eyes. “I’ll be gone for about a tenday. I’ll leave my tent here and just pack some essentials and fuck off to the woods. Like I said, I’ve been doing it for years.” 

Shadowhearts frown deepens, as does Wylls. 

“That was then and this is now. You’re a rather wanted individual, will that be safe? A tenday of solo travel?” 

You give Shadowheart a delighted look before tackling her with a hug. She almost topples over but manages to keep herself upright as you hug and nuzzle her. She doesn’t push you off in any case. You laugh warmly, resting your chin on her shoulder. 

“You’re really worried about me? Little old me? Have you opened your heart to me after all?” You say through a giggle, earning a few laughs from Dame Aylin and Isobel. You finally pull away to look at her. “I promise I will be completely fine. My senses around that time are extremely heightened. I’m feverish but it’s very difficult to catch me off-guard enough for some kind of ambush. Worst case scenario, I shift and run away.” 

Shadowheart does not seem comforted by this. Wyll feels the same, thankful she’s being so adamant about it. 

“I don’t like those odds,” She says with her arms crossed. “Is there no one you can bring with you?” 

When she says that, you  turn to Wyll. Your eyes lock briefly. You look a little startled, but relax once you realize that it’s him. Wyll is a little startled too, embarrassed by his own staring. He can only hope you didn’t notice how obviously he was moments prior. You take a minute to consider him, your gaze raking over him. It’s a split second, barely noticeable - but afterwards you flush. It happens so quickly that Wyll wonders if he’s imagined the entire thing. 

You laugh and Wyll swears it sounds nervous. 

“I get a little…aggressive during that time.” You say dismissively. “It’s best to leave me to my own devices. I promise you I will be perfectly fine.” 

“I don’t know how much I believe that, but I’ll try to put my faith in you. Don’t make me worry while these damn parasites are still in our heads.”

You throw your head back and laugh brilliantly.

“I’ll make it back to you in one piece,” You say, holding your pinky out. Shadowheart hooks her own into yours with a blush. “I promise on the Moonmaiden herself.” 

Shadowheart sighs, resting her head on your shoulder. Your smile grows ten sizes. 

“You better.” 

__

The journey, of course, does not get any easier. 

You’ve barely made it to Rivington. Barely. Not only have you had to fight off a camp of hateful githyanki and earned the ire of an alien goddess - you’ve just found out the person protecting you is a mindflayer. 

After a tremendous amount of difficult information launched at the lot of you, you’ve managed to regain your bearings (some kind of miracle, Wyll thinks). You’ve made it to Rivington. Finally. 

Hells. What a troublesome situation. 

You’ve been in Rivington for a few days now, though you haven’t made it far. After being at the circus and a somewhat harrowing fight with a shapeshifting clown, you decide to put up for the night. Before nightfall, you announced to everyone at camp that you’d be disappearing for your supposed fever. You can feel it coming on, and by the time it starts - traveling will be difficult. 

Everyone has had their own way of fussing over you. Gale has given you some scrolls of his own curation. Astarion silently handed you one of his favorite daggers and a pack of expensive arrows. Lae’zel has given you some potions, testing your reflexes with you before your disappearance. Shadowheart gives you as many healing potions as she can, and her blessing with the help of Dame Aylin. Karlach has little to offer you in terms of things, instead knocking your heads together and telling you to scream as loud as you can if anything happens - and she’ll come running no matter what happens. Halsin has dried some food for you ahead of time, ever the planning kind. 

Wyll only gives you a long look of concern. Most of the conversation between you is had with eyes, a soft glance meeting a concerned one. With Wyll, you hold his hand and assure him that you’ll be fine - and to take care of them in your short absence. You hug him extra tight before you leave.Wyll is forced to let you disappear. 

It’s really not like Wyll to be so invasive on another person's business. He knows he can be a busybody when it comes to helping someone but for the most part - he’ll respect a person's wishes. If someone doesn’t want intervention, it’s not Wyll’s place to force it on them. He's learned from experience that sometimes it makes the situation worse. 

But shit, the worry has been eating Wyll alive. He could hardly sit still in the brief two hours you had disappeared. The rest of the party have regrouped in your absence. Gale, Astarion, Shadowheart and Lae’zel - while Karlach and Wyll planned to stay behind. Wyll had wanted to go but Astarion wouldn’t allow him. Said his pining would get in the way of everything. He’s off his game, and it’s best to wait till you return. 

It’s getting closer to evening, the sun beginning to set. Wyll just can’t sit still. There’s no way a tenday is going to pass like this without Wyll effectively losing his mind. 

Just as the sky begins to be painted orange, Wyll troubles Shadowheart in the middle of her meditations. 

One of her eyes opens as she breaks her concentration, an amused smile showing on her face. 

“That was quick,” She says first, looking up at Wyll from where she’s kneeled. “I thought you’d wait at least a day,” 

“Pardon?” 

Shadowheart laughs. “Oh, to chase them down I mean. I knew it was going to happen eventually, but this is a little fast even for you, Ravengard.” 

Wyll doesn’t know how to feel about that. 

“My apologies for being predictable,” Wyll says with a sigh. “But since you were anticipating it, I have to ask if you know anything. Where they’d be. Anything.” 

“This is exactly why they didn’t tell you, you know? Not that I’m not worried about them too,” Shadowheart says with a sigh. “But they were clear. They need a tenday alone.” 

Wyll looks at her. “I’ve never been like this before, either. I don’t understand it, but I haven’t been able to take my mind off it despite my efforts. Regardless of what you tell me, it seems like I’m going to follow them,” 

“Oh, please,” Shadowheart says, standing up and dusting herself off as she looks at him directly “You don’t know why? Don’t you think it’s time to be a little more honest with yourself, Wyll? I mean really.”

Wyll widens his eyes, a little taken aback by it. He flushes, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. He scrunches his brow a bit, unsure of what to say to defend himself. 

“Well, I am aware of why, I suppose. But it’s,” He fumbles in the process of trying to say anything sensible. “It’s new.. I didn’t think I was this sort of person. Something along those lines. It’s not that I don’t have confidence in them, but this isn’t something they need to endure alone.” 

“Not when you’re there for them, I’m guessing,” 

Wyll smiles a little sheepishly. “Yes. I respect their privacy. I’ll turn back if they ask me too,” 

“Oh, don’t worry, that was easy enough to figure out.” Shadowheart teases. Wyll covers his face. Is he a schoolboy, being teased about his crush like this? How ridiculous. “At least you know.” 

He sighs.

“Will you at least tell me what you know?” 

“I’m still thinking about it.” Shadowheart says thoughtfully. She makes an exaggerated gesture of contemplating the situation before shrugging. “Hm. You know, I’ve entered a totally new chapter of my life - so, out of the kindness of my heart I’ll tell you what I know.” 

“Thank you.” Wyll says truly grateful. Shadowheart gives him what Wyll thinks of as a semi-fond smile. He hopes this means she approves of whatever is going on. You two are close as ever, so it does matter to Wyll how she feels about it. 

“They were rather vague about the situation,” Shadowheart says honestly. “But they did tell me the direction they were going to travel. There’ll be marks in the trees so they can make their way back if something happens. If you can find where they started, it should be easy enough to find where they end up. That’s all I know. Good luck.” 

“Thank you, Shadowheart.” 

“Oh and, go pack some things of your own before you go. Just in case you end up staying.” 

“Right. I’ll do that now.” 

“I’ll let everyone know so leave as soon as you can.” 

“It looks like I'll be owing you quite a few favors.” Wyll offers. Shadowheart smiles. 

“Of course. Nothing in life is free. But go, shoo. You should go before it gets too dark.” 

Wyll gives her one last look of gratitude before hurrying to prepare a pack. 

__ 

Wyll barely makes it before the darkness settles in. 

There’s enough moonlight to guide him through the tricky paths of the forest. Let the record show, Wyll has no idea how you’ve navigated through here. Like Shadowheart had promised him - the trees began to be marked once Wyll found your paw prints on the ground. On each tree was a the slashing of a sharp dagger. 

Despite the clear path you laid out, the terrain is utterly unforgiving for the longest time. Had the signs of you not been in front of him, Wyll would’ve given up on the affair. This is saying something, because his time as the Blade of Frontiers was far from a life of luxury. 

It’s difficult but the promise of Wyll’s good eye laying its gaze on you is enough to push him through to the end of the journey. 

Eventually, eventually - the path clears. The trees start to become sparse and the area starts to flatten to something walkable. The dirt hardens underneath his feet and his muscles no longer drag. 

Before Wyll lays eyes on you, he hears you. 

There’s a campfire, and the shelter of a borrowed tent. You’ve laid out plenty of old rags and bedsheets - layers and layers of dusty fabric and old pillows giving you a cushion from where you’re curled up on a tree. 

Before Wyll can see you in the faint glow of fire, the only thing his mind can pay attention to is the sound of your voice. 

A pained whimper, so loud and high pitched - Wyll is shocked he didn’t hear it some distance ago. You’re practically shaking, short snarls and desperate yowls between hard pants.You sound like you’re suffering something grave. It’s nothing he’s ever heard in your time together, despite the horrific injuries you’ve endured. Even at near death, Wyll has never heard more than labored breathing and groans. 

It’s pure distress, so broken it rings in his ears. His concern grows ten sizes. 

He decides then that no matter what you tell him, he won’t be able to go back to camp to leave you alone. 

He fights the urge with his body to run towards you, remembering the state you’re in. Prone to aggression and high-alert, Wyll forces himself to approach you slowly. 

As soon as he’s within range of you, your entire body lurches forward to sit up. Your eyes open, wide and nearly feral - searching erratically. Wyll pauses, no longer in a soft crouch. He stands to full attention. When you finally look at him, your chest shakes with an exhale. You lean back against the tree behind you where you’re curled, shaking. 

“Fuck,” You cover your nose first, pressing your arm against it as you curl away from him instinctively. Wyll feels a mix of guilt and worry. “Fuck, what in the Hells are you doing here? Was it Shadowheart? Even—even though I told her,” 

He moves in just a step closer. “I asked her. But I intended to find you even if you didn’t tell me. I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen,” 

“Shit, don’t get any closer. I-I’m already, shit,” You hold up a hand, though your entire body is fragile. Weak, even from this distance. “Don’t move. You,” Another labored breath “Go back.” 

Wyll stills, but doesn’t budge. His frown deepens. “You don’t have to endure this alone,” He steps closer. “I’m here for you,” 

“It’s not about—fuck,” You curl into yourself, turning your face away from him. “It’s n-not about that. Not personal. You need to get out of here, Wyll, please. Please listen to me and, and go.” 

Wyll wants to ask how he could leave you in this condition, but the desperation in your voice stops him. He feels uncertain, but his body - his mind, won’t listen to him.

“Tell me what’s happening to you,” Wyll pleads. He wants to run to you. He hates seeing you in this much pain. He wants to hold you, his heart is practically pounding. “Are you in pain?” 

Your expression strains, but you force your gaze towards him. Your eyes are wide. They shine with water and wetness, your tearstained expression landing on his face. 

“Fuck, Wyll, you - I’m in heat. So d-don’t come any closer. Go, go—please, I’m begging.”

Heat. Wyll knows little about the cycles of werewolves. But he knows about wolves, and other animals at least. Heat. A period of heightened sexual reception during mating season. Wyll pauses, then blinks. His stomach drops, heart quickening. 

Shit. Shit. 

“You’re in…heat.” 

“Y-yes. And it lasts for a tenday, so you need to listen to me and get out of here. Now.” 

Wyll doesn’t move. 

“Would,” Wyll swallows the thick feeling in his throat. “If someone else had come. Would you have,” 

He hardly knows what he’s asking. But it seems you do, because you open your eyes - in utter distress and shake your head. 

“No,” You shake your head and hold your breath, trying to calm yourself as you breathe. You focus on breathing only out of your mouth. “Just you.” You close your eyes again and continue to tremble. “Please. Please go, Wyll.” 

He comes closer. Your voice croaks as you try to shout at him, though the words are too faint to be called that. Nonthreatening and utterly desperate. 

“No, no, no—please,” Your words become a sob, and Wyll feels his heart start to crack a little. “You don’t understand. It h-hurts. If you get too close, if you—” 

“What is it?” He gets close enough to be within real range of you. There’s only a few feet of distance between you. Wyll kneels so he’s not looming over you, looking over you with concern. “What’s wrong?” 

You shake and shake and shake, closing your eyes - tearing your gaze away from him. Your lower lips waver, both hands covering your face as you cry. 

“Your s-scent,” You heave, trying to push back against the tree.  “It’ll make me want to t-touch you. And I can’t. I can’t and—I want too. So badly, you’re so close, please stay away. It’s cruel, so cruel to me,” 

Wyll feels his own voice almost give out. Seeing you like this. So desperate. Needy. The guilt is outweighed by another feeling he chooses not to name.

“You can touch me,” He assures. 

You sob. 

“Not just touch. Wyll, please, go.” 

“Hells,” He comes closer towards you and you flinch. “I’m not so clueless. I know what you meant. It’s alright.” 

Your eyes flicker open in disbelief. 

“You,” You look at him through teary eyes. “I-it’s important to you to... With someone you love. Not like this.” 

“Gods, who else but you? I love you,” Wyll says with his own voice nearly shot. Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Of course I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.” 

“Wyll,” You sob for a different reason this time. “I love you. I w-want you, I want you.” 

“Tell me. Can I touch you?”

“Please,” You’re so tender like this. Wyll has never seen it in his life. It’d be unimaginable, had he not witnessed. 

Strong and capable and brave and rowdy - reduced to a fragile, pleading mess. 

Wyll doesn’t know how to touch you. If he were more honest with himself in the moment - more sensible, he’d admit this to you in a quiet secret. He doesn’t have room for doubt now, so Wyll is gentle when he reaches for you. He pulls your wrists from where they’re glued to you, unfurls your form slowly and looks closely at your face. He guides your hands around his neck and brings you towards him. With slow, careful maneuvering - he sits down with you. 

Holding you in his embrace, he brings you into his lap  - sitting where you once were. Until you’re over his own, resting your full weight against his. Your knees rest on either side of his thighs, straddling him. You look at Wyll from above, your lower lip still quivering. 

“It’s alright,” He says, hands on your waist but not moving “Take what you need,” 

With a wordless whimper, you grab the fabric of Wyll’s clothing, light armor that he changed into before leaving - tight enough he can feel the tension in fabric. You lean in, your eyes shut tightly and press your nose along the side of his neck. Wyll can feel you bump against this jaw. He tilts his head back to give you more access to him. His body is hot with your sudden proximity, your own skin completely feverish from need. You inhale, so deeply and so wantonly Wyll doesn’t know what else to do other than sit and let you. 

The thought passes. Like a mutt. Like a puppy. You breathe Wyll in like it’s the only thing keeping you alive, grinding instinctively on his lap. Something that he overlooks for the sake of being the sane one between you. 

“You,” Your voice has calmed down a fair bit, though it's just as thick as it was before. “Shit, it’s so good.”  

Your grip on his clothes tighten. Wyll rubs a soothing hand on your waist, still over your clothes. You continue it, taking deep breaths of him like a life-line until your grip starts to loosen. You’re no longer shaking at least. You pull away from him with wet pleading eyes, butting your forehead with his. Wyll winces, but bites back a smile at you once he realizes you’re a tad bit more sobered up. 

“What in the hells are you doing here?” You interrogate.

“Are you alright?” Wyll says, ignoring your first question. “Has it gone down?” 

“It comes in waves. The first wave has passed, but the second one will hit soon enough. Five minutes if I had to guess,” You say, shaking your head. You fix your gaze on him. Wyll suddenly becomes aware of your proximity (or lack thereof). “Why are you here, Wyll?” 

“Why? A better question is how could I not be here?” Wyll says carefully, examining your every expression. “An ominous sickness, traveling alone for an entire tenday when we’ve all spent our entire journey together. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, but I couldn’t sit back quietly while I was so worried for your safety.” 

“Like I told you and everyone else, I’m fine. I’ve been handling heats alone since I started puberty. It’s not a very pretty sight,” You pout shyly. Wyll finds it utterly adorable. “And well, it’s not like I can announce to everyone I’m in literal heat. Fever is easier.” 

“I’m sorry if I’ve invaded your privacy. If I had known,” He clears his throat, looking away from you “If I had known it was something like this, I would’ve approached it more delicately.” 

“My brain is too heat-addled to be properly embarrassed, which is lucky - because I’m definitely going to be pissed when this is over.” You say, clutching the front of his shirt again. “Everything is all out of order now.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“You’re the one going on about keeping things old school, you know.” 

“Well yes. But it’s not for any reason so rigid,” Wyll reaches his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing underneath your eyes. “These sorts of affairs are more enchanting when the love is there. That’s the part that matters.” 

“You’re not disappointed that the first time we’re touching each other is because I’m this desperate to touch you?” 

“I just like being able to hold you. For any reason at all,” Wyll says honestly, then adds. “And well, if I were to be frank, seeing you in this state is… rousing. In its own right.” 

You flush, and mumble. “Pervert.” 

He forgives the comment just as you’ve forgiven him for his intrusion. He looks at you tenderly, heart swelling so much it’s almost overflowing. 

“Will you allow me to stay by your side?” 

“This goes on for a tenday. And it doesn’t get any easier. Do you really know what you’re asking? Do you have that kind of stamina?” 

Wyll smiles at you. He wants to kiss you. 

“Around something as enticing as you, stamina should pose no issue.” He flirts. 

“Gods, Wyll - where’d you learn to talk like that?” 

He smiles cheekily. “Esoteric erotica novels from my fathers chambers, mostly. Overhearing things at Sharesses Caress helped too.” 

You giggle a little bit. This time you’re the one leaning into him. 

“The waves will get longer and more intense. They peak around the fourth day and begin to mellow out at the start of the fifth,” You give him a look before looking away, profusely embarrassed. “Uhm. The only thing that soothes it is, well, you know. I mean I get really… I cry a lot.” 

Wyll doesn’t communicate to you the fact he knows. He did just see after all, and it’s not like he particularly enjoys seeing you suffer. He’s not that sort of man, but. He likes taking care of you, in all aspects. You’ve had to take care of yourself for so long. It feels good that he’s allowed into something that you’ve kept private all this time. 

It’s fair if he’s a little cocky about it, he thinks. 

“You can show me everything about yourself and I won’t turn my gaze away from you. Nothing could make me look away,” 

You pout again. Wyll notices you do it when you’re feeling especially embarrassed. He opts not to say anything, just smiles. 

You take a deep, shaky breath. “It’s going to start again soon. Everything is fine with me, just—stay close. Close enough that I can tuck into you.”

“Something to do with my scent, I suppose? I am curious to know what.” 

“Well I like you. And it’s comforting. But it turns me on, too. Especially like this.”

“And that’s why you were pushing me away earlier?” 

You nod, taking a deep breath. Your voice regains that sweet, thick quality that Wyll is beginning to recognize as desire.

“Mm. I’m a lot stronger than you a-and my heads not very clear,” You shake your head as you explain this to him. “It would’ve..haah..been painful. Really.” 

“So it has that kind of effect on you,” Wyll concludes. Your eyes are lidded. You’re overwhelmed. It’s an interesting position. As far as Wyll’s concerned, he probably only smells like forest right now. He looks at the way you’re shaking like a leaf, then continues “I have that kind of effect on you,” 

“Yes,” You huff, leaning against him again. Your head on his shoulder, nose brushing against his skin. He’s sweating from the journey up. He can’t really wrap his mind around what it could be that you like so much about him or how he smells. “Fuck, yes - you do.” 

It’s an odd position to be in. Wyll is a righteous man but the thoughts that swarm him now are anything but. There’s nothing foreign about being wanted. His time as the Blade of Frontiers has had him propositioned for such affairs more times than he can remember. 

No ones ever been desperate for him, though. You’ve never been desperate about anything. You’re emotional and light-hearted and wise and kind. Not desperate. Never that. 

Except right now, you’re looking up at him with your pupils blown wide and your lower lip shaking. There’s sweat dripping down the crown of your head. Your ears are perked up, your whole body tense with need. You’re practically intoxicated above him, and Wyll can’t help but feel something less than heroic about it. 

“I’m hardly half the man I claim to be,” Wyll says, a little dazed. “You make me forget myself. My virtue.” 

“What’s virtue to love, Ravengard?” You lean in closer to him, your noses brushing. It must be coming again, the next wave. “You’re just Wyll to me, remember? Not a paragon of decency.” Your face is close. Your lips are close. Tempting. “Touch me. Or make love to me, if you’d prefer to call it that.”

It feels like there’s no air in Wyll’s lungs. Not enough to take a breath. He cups the nape of your neck with his hand, and your skin is so hot it nearly burns. You’re feverish, and sweaty - when Wyll touches you, you react right away. He stares at you. Everything feels distant, far-away. How many times have the two of you been like this? How many times have you nearly crossed this threshold before retreating back into each other? 

Wyll can think of one hundred times he’s thought of kissing you. When you’re covered in blood and gore, when you smile, when the sun through the trees makes your fur look shiny and beautiful, when Astarion pets you, when you hug Karlach for the first time. He can compile every time the urge has come over him. 

It feels unreal to kiss you now, after all that. 

You open your mouth slightly, a choked moan passing through your lips as Wyll presses his own to yours. Yours are soft. The first thing he notices is the shape of your teeth, the sharp edge of your fangs - protruding and clumsy. None of it matters. Nothing matters except you and this. 

You’re huffy and eager when Wyll kisses you. A slow peck at first before he pulls away, delighted by the way you chase his mouth. Then again with your mouth open a little wider, panting hotly as you urge Wyll to give you a little more. Your hands are gripping his armor again, tight enough to rip the material. You’re too drunk on your own need, to notice anything about anything. 

It’s something about you - something about you Wyll has known since forever. You get lost in things, in fights or in books that Gale reads. Sometimes you just give up thinking entirely and let your instinct guide you. And it makes enough sense, you’re a werewolf - part hungry animal by blood. Of course your baser instinct feels more natural. 

It’s not very kind to think, but Wyll isn’t saying it to be unkind. He likes it. He likes that you think with your heart less than your head. He likes when you give into the most animal parts of you. 

Wyll is not in the same place as you. His head is meant to be clear. He’s seemingly sober for this affair. 

But his body betrays his mind so quickly it’s laughable. 

He doesn’t really know what to do with himself. All of the blood in his body is running hot, and all of it floods south more quickly than he can control it. Before he knows what he’s doing, his hands are clasping around your waist and he’s kissing you deeper. He lets his tongue brush yours, lets his teeth sink into the plush of your lower lips. He sucks and bites and licks as you breathe each other in.

You kiss Wyll until your lips are swollen, chest heaving as you pull away from each other. There’s something juvenile about the affair, enough to make you laugh even in the state you’re in. And Wyll laughs too, stares at your expression only illuminated by moonlight. 

“I love you,” Wyll repeats. You’re startled by it this time. “Gods, I love you.” 

Your voice is thick. “I love you too. Touch me, please.” 

“How should I touch you my love?” 

“However you want. As long as you touch me.” 

“However I want,” Wyll says contemplatively. He’s quick to maneuver you both to the ground when he says this. A little closer to the warmth of the fire, on the sheets and pillows you’ve set up underneath you both. You look up at him wide-eyed as your back touches the ground. “You should choose your words carefully. I may take you up on making love.” 

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down to you.

“Do it before I lose my mind anymore,” 

Wyll laughs playfully against your skin.

The act of undressing each other is unceremonious. Wyll peels the padded armor off his body, leaving him in trousers. He helps you out of your own clothes. He’s seen you naked more than once, but never for this. For him. He studies the way your muscles fall, the hair on your skin. Various scars. Everything for him to gaze on. 

Your own hand reaches up to his neck, on his shoulder as your mouth falls open. “You’re so attractive. Do you know?” 

He laughs. “It doesn’t hurt to hear you tell me.” 

You seem eager to admire his body. Wyll doesn’t stop you. Your palms are much smoother than he’d think of them to be, as they plane over the expanse of his muscled chest. You let your fingers drift over raised scars on abdomen, over his nipples and down his abdomen. Wyll feels his cock twitch unhelpfully. You must notice the same because your eyes light up. Your hand reaches even further, even lower - cupping the hard outline of his length. He hisses through his teeth. 

“You’re…” You mumble, squeezing again. “For me,” 

“You’re beautiful,” Wyll says. You flush. 

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” Your voice is almost petulant. 

“And I’ve longed for you since that very moment” 

Your pout deepens before you brush Wyll’s hand with yours. 

“You can do the same for me.”

Wyll stares at you before leaning back down to kiss you. He doesn’t linger at your mouth, chaste pecks that pave the path for Wyll to worship the rest of you. He wants to worship every inch. He lets his lips leave kisses all over your face. He kisses the scars along your skin, the corner of your mouth, your eyelids. 

His tongue laves down your jaw until he’s at your neck. You breathe unsteadily as he continues down to the column of your throat. Wyll is gentle. He doesn’t bite. He steadies his hands at your waist and only kisses. Presses his face to your skin and pricks you with his want. It’s slower than you want, he can tell from how your legs are wrapped helplessly around his waist. 

Your lower-half is grinding against him, against air - anything you can find. Little shameless mewls and so much squirming. Wyll knows you’re needy, and he is too - but this is your first time together. 

He couldn’t do anything but savor it no matter how much you whined. Right now you are his, hidden from the moon. From the camp. 

You are his and he will take you apart as he pleases. 

“Please,” You whine, taking a deep breath of him again. You inhale, nudging the parts of him available to him. “Please.” 

A little mercifully, he gives you a little more. He grabs your hips and positions you better over his cock. He moves his hands from your waist to squeeze the soft flesh of your breasts. He licks the salt of your skin, meeting your movements. 

“I know, I know. Endure it,” He says, pressing a kiss to your sternum. “Indulge me.” 

You bite back your complaint. You’re forgiving as always.

His mouth closes around your nipples, hard under his tongue. Your spine arches, but Wyll pushes you down and steadies you. His other hand squeezes the one he isn’t servicing, thumb drawing over your nipples. He gauges your breathing as he tries different motions until settling on rolling it with his thumb. The right thing to do, if your reaction is anything to go by. 

He feels something against the seam of his pants when he goes between them, pleasuring you. A wetness where his cock meets your clothed sex.  One that soaks underneath two layers of clothes. He looks up at you, wide-eyed. 

You’re unaware of anything. Too busy in the chase of pleasure. 

He wonders if it’s a result of your heat. He doesn’t know anything about them aside from the fact it happens and it makes you like this - but what it does to your body is still foreign to him. His cock is throbbing hard enough to make him light-headed. He tries to approach this with a light hand and patience. 

But shit, the way you’re searching for it is too arousing. You’re seeking an orgasm so desperately, all little rutting twitches and uneven movements. The first of the tears start to form on your lower lashes. Your eyelashes are wet. Fat tears drip down your cheeks, falling down the side of your face. Wyll is less concerned than you would be if you hadn’t told him that you would cry - but gods. 

“You’re a mess,” He says with an absent fondness. You whine and nod in agreement. Wyll is lucky to witness this, he realizes too late. “Is it painful?” 

Your voice is scratchy from crying. “Aches. Aches so much, need more, please. Trying to be patient but it aches.” 

He hums to himself, undoes the death grip your legs have on his waist before starting to kiss a path down to your navel. It’s clear you make an attempt to ask him what he’s doing, but the words cut off when you realize he’s getting closer to where you need. 

You’re holding your breath, your hands curled at your sides like you don’t know what to do with them. You’ve never been so uncertain in front of him. You help slide your bottoms off - everything in one go. Your knees are bent in the air, covering where Wyll is most keen to see you. He kisses your calves. 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, remember?” 

You take a deep breath and lay your feet flat on the ground, spreading your legs enough to give Wyll a perfect view. He’s always tried not to look, but now he can’t stop staring. A thick layer of hair covers your cunt. His hands shake as he pulls you forward to look closer, and your own hands go to cover your face. 

“I can feel you breathe,” You whisper, and Wyll laughs. He’s still looking, examining you closely. He uses his fingers to pull you apart, awestruck by you. You’re so wet it’s dripping, pulsing helplessly without Wyll touching you at all. The sheet underneath you darkens with arousal. Your clit is throbbing with need, all fluttery. “Stop looking,” 

Wyll does what any gentleman would do. He pulls away, his hands settling on your thighs - and starts to kiss all the way up from the inside of your knee. He does it on both sides, before finally kissing your clit tucked away underneath everything. Your breath hitches, stomach tensing.

“Tell me where you feel it. Let me learn you.” 

“Hicc,” You nod soft and sweet. “Okay,” 

Wyll smiles against you. 

For as much as Wyll puts on a show, the first time he actually tastes you exceed all expectations. The loss of composure is nearly instant. His fingers dig into the plush of your thighs as he lets the weight of his tongue drag through your folds, arousal collecting on the tip. Your reaction comes just as quick. 

“Fuck,” You cry out. Wyll feels your hands reach for him, a pleasant noise escaping him as you grip onto his horns. He’s never thought to touch them before. A feeling of electricity creeps up his back as your hands hold tight around the base of them.“Wyll, fuck - there,” 

He gets the message quick enough, laying his tongue flat on the hardened bundle of nerves. Your clit pulses for him. You taste heady and sweet, coating his entire mouth as he continues to eat. You guide him here and there - soft whispers of lower and higher until he ends up in the place you need. 

“That,” Your grip on his horns gets tighter as you grind yourself down on his tongue. Wyll feels his cock stiff against his stomach from where he lays. “Like that,”

He gives you more pressure as he licks your clit, sorting out a rhythm as he focuses his attention on one part of you. He wants to make you cum like this. You’re sensitive enough to do it. Your clit thrums as your mind goes muddy. Your body movements change as he continues to push you closer and closer to your high. He’s starting to understand what makes you tick. 

Wyll is a quick learner after all, dexterous and clever. 

Muscles clenching, your mouth falls open - eyes barely open as you moan. “Oh, oh, oh,” 

Wyll laps you up like ambrosia. He pulls away when you start to get close, ignoring your complaints. He wants to savor it now that he knows how to get you to the edge, so he does. He buries himself deeper into you, his nose bumping against your mound with every pass he makes over your slit. Your body is unbelievably sensitive. He dips his tongue into your tight hole and you nearly lurch forward with need. 

He starts a back and forth, going from licking long stripes along your slit determined not to let anything go to waste - back to focusing on where you need him most. He doesn’t mean to put you on edge so many times, no longer thinking clearly. 

You beg Wyll to make you cum by the time he’s back to reality, grabbing his horns hard enough to make him look at you. 

“Make me cum, please - can’t take it anymore, Wyll, please, fuck,” 

He hums against your sex before refocusing his attention. One last time he takes your throbbing clit into his mouth, lets it slide against his tongue and sucks on it. This time he relents to your need, and doesn't stop for any reason. He lets it build and build and build until he hears your voice break. 

Your back starts to arch, body going taut like a bowstring. Wyll hums against you, he wants to praise you but his mouth is busy. 

Then the thought occurs to him. It takes a little focus to reach your mind, and this is by all means - a terrible reason to use your shared connection. 

‘You’re doing so well, starlight,’ Wyll praises. Your eyes widen as you realize just how he’s doing it, a debauched and shocked moan tearing itself from your mouth ‘Beautiful. Sorry for teasing you. Can you cum for me? I want you to feel good,’ 

You hiccup, another loud sob as Wyll keeps steady. 

“C-cumming,” You choke on the words, on your spit. “I’m—fuck!” 

Wyll lets you ride your orgasm out as you cum for the first time in the night. Your body goes arching, gripping on his horns hard trying to pull him away as you push through to the other side. You’re pulsing in his mouth, tightening around nothing as you cum for him. It feels like it goes on forever, long waves and tremors until the feeling dies down. 

He pulls away once you’ve finally laid back down, exhausted and out of breath. You stare at him a little blankly, an arm covering your face. 

“Up here,” You say tiredly, gesturing him up. “I need to kiss you.” 

Wyll laughs good naturedly as you wrap an arm around Wyll’s neck, dragging him down towards you and kissing him hard - drunk off pleasure. You kiss him in chaste pecks,  hugging him. Nudging your nose along his neck, you whisper in his ear. 

“Take your pants off, dammit.” 

Wyll can’t help his laughter.

“I suppose it’s only fair,” 

You hook your fingers into Wyll’s trousers, helping him pull them down until his cock springs free. Your eyes go lidded as soon as you see it, hands cupping the now bare skin. Wyll hisses slightly at the sudden touch, unused to the friction. You look up at him, a hand between your bodies - closing your fist around the base of his cock. 

“Bumps and prongs, huh,” 

Wyll flushes immediately, making you laugh. 

“I hope you’re not making fun of me.” 

“How could I when I’m this turned on?” You offer sincerely. He shudders at the touch. “I like it. Can I blow you?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

Your turn to laugh. “I’m good at it. And I want to. It’s a little sensitive for you to fuck me, anyway.” 

Wyll swallows thickly. “I guess I have no reason to deny you.” 

“No you don’t. Now come on and stand up,” 

He gives you a hesitant look before peeling himself off of you. He stands to his feet, his pants still rolled down just past his thighs. He slides them off so the two of you are naked, and laments a little in his mind about the fact you’re doing this deep in the outdoors. You’re quick to follow Wyll, walking on your knees towards him until you’re eye-level with his cock. 

He’s never gotten this far. He’s a romantic in all the ways it matters, so save for some grinding and kissing - it’s a new experience. You look like you know what you’re doing though. You kiss his hips, hands on his thighs and an expression that he finds remarkably innocent for what you’re about to do. All Wyll can do is watch, and feel increasingly fidgety about the sight in front of him. 

You crane your head down and place pecks from the base of his shaft all the way to the tip. You let his cock rest against your face, taking a sharp inhale of the skin - perverse and desperate.  Wyll groans, deep from his chest as you smile. You’re not unsettled by it at all, as reverent as you always are. 

His body has grown especially sensitive because of Mizora’s interference. He can feel the heat in his blood starting to swell as blood rushes to his cock, making him grow bigger. The way you’re looking at him isn’t helping. 

You poke your tongue out from your mouth and leave long licks along his cock - from base to tip. Like you sense he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, you guide them to hold your head. He feels a weird sense of guilt about it, but the pleasure outweighs the shame - he doesn’t force you down. Just keeps you painfully steady as you do all of the world. 

Fuck, he’s sensitive. Every little wet lick and stroke is enough to make his spine prick with need. The tip of his cock leaks pre-cum. You press it against your lips as your hand wraps around his shaft in full, your tongue dipping into the slit making Wyll hiss. 

“Shit,” He huffs, hands gripping tighter but not moving you “That feels good,” 

You give him a little smile that makes Wyll’s stomach flip. Like you know it’s going to catch him off guard, you finally open your mouth to take the tip of his cock into your mouth. It’s lighter and more sensitive than the rest of his cock. You wrap your tongue around it with expertise and Wyll finds himself nearly bedding on the knee, legs starting to feel weak.

You use one hand to steady yourself on his thigh, the other slipping between your legs. 

He can only watch on in awe, the impressive way you sink around the hot, hard length. Your tongue is soft, the cavern of your mouth wet and inviting. Wyll nearly breaks - almost fucks into your throat by bucking up. He restrains himself as you go lower and lower, eyes going increasingly wide as his cock disappears in the column of your throat. Just when he thinks you can’t get any further, you do. He can feel the tip disappear in the narrowness of your throat, awestruck as drool starts to drip from the sides of your mouth. 

You make a sound, muffled as you hit the base of Wyll’s cock like it’s nothing. You sink in further, nose pressing against his navel as you glance up at him. It’s too lewd, damn near -  seeing you deepthroat him with such ease. You inhale again, and Wyll flushes at the realization of what you’re doing exactly. 

You pull off in one go, saliva dripping down your chin and neck as you open your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks and wrapping a free hand around whatever your mouth can’t easily reach, you start to set a pace. It’s fast and slick and messy, pre-cum mixed with saliva making your face grow sticky - taking deep breaths of Wyll’s scent and musk every time you manage to swallow it all. It’s depraved seeing you suck his cock with such obvious lust and desire, eager to swallow him and show him pleasure. 

Wyll feels the pleasure. His entire body feels like it’s being wrapped in something slick and warm, little sparks of electricity traveling from his fingertips to his spine. His head feels especially light, filled with fluff and devoid of conscious consideration. 

“Your mouth feels incredible,” Wyll groans, shuddering, holding your head as you let his cock bottom out in your mouth again “Hells,”

You sound pleased, a pleasant reverb going through his body as you set a pace - bobbing your head and swallowing every inch of him without flinching. The sound of your throat constricting around him and your own hands fill the surroundings. He’s glad you’re so lost in the movements because his own voice is punched out of him each time you go down. He didn’t know he was capable of making this much noise, such deep groans and heavy breaths every time you so much as move.

You pull him out completely, letting spit and saliva rub against your mouth as you tap against your face. Wyll feels a restless embarrassment at the pit of his stomach as you make eye-contact with him. He feels his cock twitch hard, something starting to come undone in his gut as he pulls you away. 

“Stop,” He wheezes, and you do with a pleased laugh “Shit that’s dangerous. You’re…talented.” 

You pause before breaking out into more giggles, kissing his cock one last time. Wyll covers his face with his hands. 

“Is that a compliment?”

“...It’s meant to be one.” 

“Glad you’re impressed,” You say with a wicked little grin - all sharp teeth and delight. “I wanted to go longer.” 

“We have days together. Another time, my love.” 

Your smile grows a little. You are bad for his heart in more ways than one, Wyll thinks. 

“Mm. Okay. I can’t really wait much longer, anyway. Another wave is gonna hit soon and I feel antsy.” 

“Get comfortable and lay down. And, I hate to ask so late - but should I be worrying…? About protection?” 

You blink at him as you set up on the ground, moving around pillows for you to lay on. You shake your head. “Mm. Should be fine. Getting contraceptives should be easier since we’re closer to the city. Unless you don’t want to take that risk?” 

Your expression is uncharacteristically innocent. Wyll weighs his desire against reason, a feeling of guilt washing over him at the clear winner. His cock is throbbing to the extent it’s near painful.

(He doesn’t hate the thought of giving you a child, either. Though he thinks it’s much too early to say something like that, and he’d prefer to plan something so important. Still, it isn’t the worst outcome. It’d be a precious little thing, half-werewolf and beautiful. 

He brushes over the thought just as quickly as he has it, a little taken aback by his own desires. It’s like everything is being bled from him, no thought too precious to strike his mind. It’s too early to think about, no less mention.

He should marry you before that. The thought of it makes him harder.) 

“As I had suspected, I’m only half the man I consider myself to be.” 

“Are you reflecting on your failings?” You tease. Wyll lets out a breath of air. 

“On my hypocrisy, if I were to put a name to it. I didn’t realize desire could be so debilitating.” Wyll explains, joining you where you lay. You giggle lightly as Wyll positions himself between your legs, leaning in to kiss you shortly. “Seems you’ve uncovered something I wasn’t aware of.” 

“Really?” 

Wyll laughs against your lips as he kisses you again. “You often do.” 

He brushes it aside as he pulls back. You lock eyes with him. Wyll is mesmerized. Your features start to round out again, eyes becoming glassy with need in the same familiar way as before. Wyll knows it now. He reaches over to cup your face with his palm, smile breaking his composure as you instinctively rub your cheek against the rough skin. He lets his thumb press against your lips, indulging your desire for affection. 

“Are you still all there?” 

“Hf. Yes. Not for long,” You say, urging him down towards you. Once again the proximity between you disappears. This time bare skinned, chest to chest. Wyll can feel the erratic thump of your heart, the unsteady quality in your breathing. You sink back into the same heat drunk place, a slow descent. Your pupils open wide enough for him to lose his senses. “Don’t keep me waiting, please.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

You fall into a synchronicity this time around. Your legs spread wide, open and wanting. Wyll feels his throat start to close. His stomach flutters restlessly as he pushes his cock through your folds once, then twice - his head thrown back at the feeling of your bare skin. He reminds himself this isn’t something to get used to, but the pleasure is easy to indulge in. 

It’s worsened by the fact you’re beautiful. 

Wyll finds you so beautiful it’s ridiculous, even to him. The plush of your lips, the way your lashes fall along as your cheek, the shape of your eyes. All of you, bathed in moonlight and blessed by the higher powers. You’re a culmination, the very pinnacle of Wyll’s every last mad desire. If everything around him faded to nothing, Wyll would have no clue. No sense, no rational, no righteousness. With nothing but himself to offer you, he’s moonstruck. Hung up on your affection and the feeling of warmth of mutual love. 

The order is all out of sorts, and everything is complicated. But Gods. Gods. You’re more beautiful than every dream he’s ever seen you in. Even the magic of his mind couldn’t form something so perfect. 

“You’re really the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

Your eyes widen, blinking rapidly before breaking out into a flush. “What are you saying?” 

“When I was a boy, I often imagined getting married,” Wyll says, drawing little circles along your hip. Your mouth opens, but falls shut as you feel the head of his cock push against you. You shudder as Wyll moves so slowly, with no intent of pushing in. “I had high hopes for love. The magic of fairy tale romance always spoke to me. I was fond of beautiful sights too, to boot.” 

Your breath hitches. Wyll feels you start to stretch around the tip of his cock. He swears under his breath, slowing even more. You let out a soft mewl as Wyll breathes through the sensation. 

“But you know,” He presses deeper, just slightly. A suggestion of a thrust. Your hand shoots out to grab Wyll’s wrist where he’s gripping you at the waist. His vision strains as he moves slowly, another terrible inch. “You’ve, haah,  exceeded my every expectation. There was no need for daydreaming.” 

You make a choked sound as Wyll goes even deeper. Your hands grip tight, that same drunken look returning to you. The parts of you that are still there are teary eyed, sniffling. Your cunt pulses around him, sucking him deeper. You feel good, but Wyll is more focused on you. Imprinting you into his memory, like tonight is the last time he’d ever get to see you. 

“If I could go back, to any time - I think I’d go back to being seventeen,” Wyll says with a smile, dropping himself closer to you. He leans up on his arm, noses brushing tenderly as you hiccup “I would tell Wyll from then to be strong. Become a Blade that can defend for the one who will become your shield.” 

You look up at him teary and frustrated. Your arms wrap around his neck as you cry, and Wyll laughs a little. Everything is so warm. He loves you. 

“If you’re any kinder to me, I don’t know what’ll become of me. Ugh, my eyes sting.” 

Wyll can’t help his smile. “We’ll have to see it through, then.” 

“Stop being so romantic and fuck me.” 

He kisses your hairline. “As you wish.” 

Wyll puts his hands up under your knees, folding you underneath him as he finally bottoms out. You both moan as you feel Wyll fill you up. You kiss him in that position, all desperation - tongue and teeth. Wyll is startled but indulges, a grinding thrust making you mewl into his mouth. He swallows the noise. 

“Fuck me,” You huff, your eyes bleary. “I can—can feel you in my stomach,” 

Wyll groans. 

You feel incredible. Wyll has to stop moving to steady his mind. He wants to last a little longer than a few seconds if he can help it. Your cunt wraps around his cock like silk. Sticky walls clinging to him like a vice, pulsing with need at the slightest movement. Wyll is connected to you in such an intimate way, it makes him feel visceral. Almost possessive. You hold on like you want to milk him for all he’s worth.

He takes another long breath, steadying himself as he pulls out and slams himself back in. You cry out in response to the first thrust, but you don’t ask him to slow down. Wyll focuses on keeping his thrusts weighted and steady, something constant enough that your focus doesn’t break. He wants to make you cum again, and he knows better what you need now. He keeps you pinned underneath the weight of him as he finds a pace to move to. 

Once he finds it, Wyll fucks you without abandon. You hold onto him tight, nose nudged against his neck as you let out the tiniest whimpers he’s ever heard you make. The pleasure debases you completely, makes you all wild. Wyll likes seeing you fall apart with each movement. Every time he pistons the right spot your eyes go wide and flutter back closed as if it’s too much. 

The two of you make a mess. Wyll can hear his cock pull and push the arousal out of you - each thrust wet. It’s messy enough to make your skin stick together. 

“Wyll,” You say his name like it’s a prayer of your goddess. Something to save you. Some kind of sacrilege that Wyll feels no guilt for. “I love you, I love you. Fuck—fuck me,” 

“You’re my whole life,” Wyll grunts. “I’ll give you everything. Everything, my love.” 

“I’m close,” Your voice is hoarse as you say it. “I’m so close, just a little—” 

Wyll knows what you’re asking for. His hand sneaks between your bodies, palm resting on your tummy as his thumb messy circles on your puffy clit. You choke on your words, a broken thank you among the mess as Wyll keeps fucking you. Determined to make you cum one more time, he goes and goes and goes. 

Wyll can feel you cum before you can tell him. You try to announce it, but the words don’t come out. He can feel your hesitance, feeling something in you as your teeth graze his necks. 

“You can bite me. I can withstand it, love”  

A pained whine is followed by the sharp feeling of your teeth in Wyll’s shoulder, as your voice breaks out into a howl. When you cum, you cum hard. Harder than before like you’re trying to latch onto him, your whole body going rigid before the tension breaks. Your orgasm crashes into you. You gasp as Wyll fucks you through it. He keeps fucking you through it until he feels you’ve calmed down. 

“Cum, Wyll. For me, please.” 

It’s enough to drive Wyll to the very edge. His desire reaches an impressive high. His thrusts become shallow, sloppy - the wet sound of him fucking you open finally reaching his ears as he gives into his own needs.  Wyll cums hard. He bottoms out as he does, thick white ropes painting your insides as the two of you lay with each other. 

When Wyll finally catches his breath and starts to go soft, he pulls away to look at you. You’re frowning at him. 

“Is something—” 

“Being sweet to me like that in the middle of that is unfair. I’m going to hold it against you.” 

Wyll pauses before breaking out into a giggle. 

“I was worried for a minute.” 

“I love you.” You add, a little softer time. “Thank you for coming to find me.” 

“Always.” Wyll replies, hugging you to him. “I adore you, you know.” 

__ 

EPILOGUE: 

You return to camp together at the end of your tenday. 

Wyll is covered in all sorts of marks by the time you’ve arrived, and so are you. There’s not really anything to do to hide that. Or to hide the fact he’s utterly exhausted by the whole thing. He’s drained, though he thinks he could do it again if he timed it better. 

It was nice to spend an entire tenday together, though. In between having sex or Wyll meeting your needs - you ate and slept and bathed together. Despite your circumstances the entire situation was domestic - and Wyll enjoyed being with you. 

You are absolutely chipper and uncaring about the situation. Wyll wishes he could be a little more like you in this case. 

The first person to see you at camp is Karlach. 

“Well, look who it is!” Karlach chirps, absolutely delighted. “The lovebirds are back,” 

The whole camp stirs at the announcement. It’s early enough that everyone is still at camp. Wyll feels his skin prick with heat as you leave his side, prancing over to Karlach to chat with her. Back to your usual self, Wyll feels a specific fondness about having seen a new side of you and remaining so unchanged. 

“Oh, you’ve returned?” Astarion says. Wyll looks up, surprised. 

“Ah, uhm, yes.” 

Astarion stands next to Wyll with his arms crossed. 

“Have you finally done it or do I have to endure more of your incessant pining?” 

Wyll chokes on his spit. 

“You’re losing your touch Astarion,” Shadowheart says, shuffling into camp from behind Wyll with a towel that needs to be dried. “That one over there is chipper and this one can barely look at them. Shouldn’t that tell you all you need to know?” 

“Tsk. You’re right. Congratulations are in order, I suppose. Or some celebration. At least I won’t have to see you two eye-fucking each other every day. It was getting dire..” 

“I wouldn’t be so confident,” Shadowheart says. “He’s doing it right now even after they spent a tenday wrapped in each other's arms.” 

Astarion sighs. “Gods. Can’t have anything these days.” 

Wyll opts not to say anything, handling them with usual grace. 

“Thanks for the congratulations,” Wyll says, staring at you idly. “Hope it wasn’t too difficult without us.” 

“Hardly.” 

Wyll smiles at that. He watches you as you talk to Karlach animatedly, smiling a little harder. He can take as much teasing as they dish out. 

He could endure it ten times over, as long as he gets to be with you. 

☾ a/n ; whew… we've made it to the end. i wrote this fic in a whopping 12 days. it was a crazy experience especially since i havent written anything i'd personally consider substantial since like.. idk april 2023. i also mostly write for anime so its a little nervewracking specifically writing for bg3. THAT BEING SAID. i love wyll. i started playing the game for him and he has bewitched me mind body and soul. it is rather disheartening to see how much larian dgaf about him so i guess part of me writing this is also trying to convince people to see what i see in wyll. something something that joan didion quote about writing as a form of violence bc of imposing views something something.

wyll is a really moving character to me. i like characters who are categorically so righteous it drives them to the destruction of themselves.

but the specific dichotomy of wyll - a man who has lost every ounce of agency time and time again with this tav was especially consuming. tav too is considered a monster, but they embrace and love this part of themselves. i think witnessing that, and the reframing monstrosity in wylls case is really helpful for him. tav doesnt know what losing their agency is like, but they're able to restructure wylls belief of what this new body of his is worth. that he is worthy all the same, and that he exists outside of being the blade. these sorts of things haunted me during this. but also… i just wanted to see wyll bang a desperate heat addled werewolf shorty. lol.

ANYWAYS. sorry for this MASSIVE wall of text. i just really love wyll so much and i hope this iteration of him felt in line with who he is. and if you're not a wyll fan and just a fic consume well… i hope i was able to compel you towards him a bit. in any case, thanks for reading! and please do leave a comment if you liked it! all feedback appreciated.

also i dont normally ask but if you could rb this fic if you liked it'd be appreciated </3 im trying to find wyll likers ehdjksjf

[vintagexherry]

Forget

Yandere!Miguel x Housewife!Reader

//Yandere, Manipulation, Amnesia, Implied kidnaping, Lying

A/N: Im not a doctor so idk how amnesia rlly works

Something doesn't feel right.

Something feels like you're forgetting something.

Something tells you, you're not supposed to be here.

Back track weeks ago, you remember weakly opening your eyes, and you find yourself on a hospital bed with buff, tan, and handsome man beside you.

Your body is covered in bandages and a heart monitor attached to you.

As you open your eyes even more, you see the man beside you his eyes.

"Y/N? Thank god- I thought I almost lost you, You've been out for so long." You glanced at the man who rambled on and on, seemingly worried and relieved at the same time.

Was that your name? Y/N? I mean, you can admit it's a pretty nice name.

"Who....Who are you?" You asked in the middle of his rambles, which you didn't have much energy to listen to

Miguel seemed to stop at his tracks, seemingly to take it what you just said.

Then something in him jumped in glee, something told him to take this opportunity.

He was silent for a while until he finally spoke.

"I'm.....I'm your husband, Miguel O'Hara."

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

So now here you are stirring a pot of food for your husband who's coming home soon.

You remember your days in recovery.

Miguel would talk to you about several things, The Spider Society, The multiverse, your friends like Peter and Jess, and also your spider powers.

While you were exploring your powers with him, you asked why you didn't ever join the Spider Society with him.

He paused for a while and said that you did join, And before your mission you had you noted to him that it will be your last and your gonna retire for a bit, but during the mission you were fighting someone who you underestimated in strength and before you know it, you got blasted to a wall and had a concussion.

A concussion that severely made you lost your memories.

You winced at the story he told you, but he reassured you saying that he could protect you, that's he's there for you.

You wanted to join back but the trauma of losing memories isn't really nice.

You start to prepare the plates in the dinner table.

You remember, after recovery in the hospital, you and your husband go to your shared home where you took the time to explore.

You went to the bedroom and saw a handcuffs tied to the bed post.

You asked him about it.

"Well," he let out a nervous chuckle. "Let's just say we were adventurous in bed. "

You blushed at his implication.

During your stay with him, you re-learn recipes and ask many things from him. You also asked why it is that you're married, but you don't see any rings.

He said that since both of you do hero work before your retirement, he didn't want the risk of losing precious jewels, and you can't help but agree with him.

As time passes by, you learnt basic things already from your husband such as food, hobbies you do together, shenanigans you both face and how well he really is in bed.

One time, Miguel let you visit the spider society, and there you met Peter and Jess once again.

While Miguel is busy with work, you talk with the both of them with Mayday on your lap.

"You know Y/N, I'm surprised you gotten closer to Miguel, I remember you would avoid him any given chance." Peter commented

"For sure, and I'm more surprised he let you visit us since prior to your accident, It's been sooo long since we've seen you." Jess added

You were confused with their input, gotten closer? Of course, you were close to him. He's your husband, after all. And they didn't see you for so long? Well, maybe cus you retired, but then again, you noted it was supposed to be after the mission.

You cleared your head and replied.

"Well, of course I'm close to him. He's my husband....?" You ended in question since their the closest friend of Miguel, How come they don't know he's married?

But instead of feeling satisfied with your awnser, both Jess and Peter stopped and looked at each other as if realization hit them.

"Uh...Y/N? Do you-" Before Peter could finish his sentence, Lyla appeared next to you, you remember the first time meeting her again and you admit she's a very enjoyable person.

"Heyy Y/N, Big boss is callin for ya" Lyla notified you and you thanked her before she disappeared again.

"Well, you heard the floating lady, I gotta go, bye Pete bye Jess!" You stood up and handed Mayday back to Peter as you webbed away to the direction of Miguel's office, not knowing the horror in both of their faces.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

And you wished you listened to them more.

It's been months since your amnesia recovery, and you still can't remember your own memories, Doctor said that there's a chance you could still remember things on your own, it's said to be rare but a chance is a chance, plus everything you "remembered" was relayed by Miguel and you're felt bad for not remembering even your own husband. You talked to him about it but all he said is that it isn't a burden and that "It's feels like im falling in love with you all over again" You can't help but admit your heart flutter.

Plus, he wouldn't lie to you. He's your husband. You thought as you stared into the golden band of ring around your finger.

....

He wouldn't right?

You were about to think more until you heard a portal opening from the bedroom.

"Mi amor? I'm home!" Miguel called out.

You smiled, finally having your beloved be there at your side, you can't always rely on Lyla since she is a hologram and you mostly need a warm body to hug with.

"I'm in the kitchen!" You called him from downstairs, and as he came down, he greeted you with a deep, searing, passionate kiss.

"I see that you enjoyed my gift." He said as he took your hand to spin you around slowly, admiring the dress he got for you.

"Of course, why wouldn't I" you giggled at his antics.

As you both ate, he would tell stories about what happened during his mission and what shenanigans happened his meeting with the spider society.

You and Miguel brushed you teeth, and got ready for bed.

As you cuddled and listened to his light snores, you think back to your previous thoughts.

And you conclude.

Yea, He wouldn't.

The End

[sanjisblackasswife]

So.... Hello! I'm not Very good at english since it's not my language but here we Go. I wanna to say i really love your art (from fanarts to your write style) and i Hope you have a good day today. Anyway i don't know If your ask are ope but How the Monsters trio Will react with they being your First in everthing! (Like First Kiss, First love, First s*x, etc) you can do nsfw-ish If you wanted

aww thank u!:) I am not going to go into grave detail because I am already doing a “First time” series with them but i like this request💓imma do it moreso where you’re THEIRS if thats alright

Being the Monster Trio’s First (NSFW-ish)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Mentions of sex

I am half sleep and typing this all in one go so mb for my spelling errors im just making up for lost time not posting consistently because school and coms☹️

Being Luffy’s First:

Crush: Being his crush is no different from being his best friend, he isn’t a very romantic guy if he likes you he will just tell you, “Y/N I think about you a lot, and I also think you may have a Lust DF power because when I think of you i get hard.” Bless him he is very blunt. BUT he does mean what he says so..be nice?

Kiss: Probably the most anticlimactic thing ever. Luffy already licks your face, hugs, and touches you a lot so when he starts running at you after a fight to see if you’re okay BAM. His lips smack into yours like a bowling ball and honestly. It’s cute. Completely uncoordinated, damn near sucked your bottom lip off, but…there was just something so addictive and attractive to his kiss that made you want more

Love: Very odd in his case. He just thought he liked you a lot. The signs were evident though, when you tell him he doesn’t deny it persay he moreso brushes it off because being in love is so new to him. However being his first love is something you can’t forget. He reminds you everyday why you’re important. Why he loves you. And why he fell in love with you.

Sexual Encounter: It was fun! You both were inexperienced. He didn’t know what hole to enter, you were shocked by how long he can stretch his dick. You both even spent the night laughing more than actually having sex, but once it came down to business it was a learning experience for you both. He was so attentive to make sure you were okay you felt yourself crying a little afterwards at how gentle he was with you.

Being Zoro’s First:

crush: He’s actually more of an asshole to you Not even on purpose he just doesn’t want to admit his feelings towards you. You’re beautiful, sweet, and charming and dammit he hates that he has feelings and how you always mess them up when you’re around him! He feels so powerless so please be gentle with him…or put him on blast. It maybe attractive to the mf.

Kiss: Awkward, awkward, awkward. He isn’t the rizzmaster okay. Yes he is pretty and he knows it but he is crap to flirting. absolutely crap. He was so hot in the face when you did the first move and kissed him he was a stuttering mess and pulled you back in for another kiss to prevent you from laughing at him. His kisses wasn’t BAD but …just practice with him. Yeah it was awkward but seeing your face so close and personal, smelling your scent. He couldn’t get enough.

Love: DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT Absolutely ridiculous how in denial he was. Everytime someone even said the word love he’d get so mad because that word applied to you in so many ways. He fell for you and he couldn’t do anything about it. You were the one opponent he could not beat and honestly, he didn’t want to. He fell for you and he fell so hard that it actually makes him nervous to be around you. He doesn’t know whether he loves you or hates you now for being so irresistible to him. Eventually he comes to terms with it and once it does and you feel the same way. Good luck getting rid of him.

Sexual Encounter: You taught him everything. He didn’t know his way from the clit to your ass. It took a lot of trial and error, sex wasn’t really NEW to him. He has seen porn but it’s completely different from films and pictures so sometimes he would back down when making out got too far, eventually he needed that release one late night while cuddling you and even though he could have went to the bathroom you stopped him and …helped him out. Let’s just say Zoro is so grateful he didn’t pussy out this go round!

Being Sanji’s First:

Crush: Sanji is an interesting guy because any woman that knows Sanji knows he is a mixture of a flirt and just having amazing manners for women. You however was just above the usual women he served to. Being his crush was an experience because you seen a side to Sanji most women don’t get to see. You seen him stand up straighter, sly comments that made your heart melt, and even kept his cool…too cool in fact. He really was Mr. Prince for you.

Kiss: The first kiss he planned it out. He knew his feelings about you and that you felt the same so he needed to plan it just right not just for him, but for you as well. The kiss was so soft and delicate you almost didn’t feel it. And that was because he shy’ed away for a moment, scared his sudden bold move would have you smack him, Luckily, he didn’t have to worry feeling your hands cup his cheek to kiss him back. He still touches his lips when he thinks about that time you kissed him.

Love: I mean man…you really are a blessed woman because out of all of the others he has seen and been with he chose you and only you. it’s insane really. He tries in his entire will to not mess this opportunity to find true love up. You being his first love he watches his mouth and actions around you more, He tries his hardest not to ruin the view you have of him and it shows. If you can just reassure him you love him for him and not who he thinks he needs to be. Sanji needs the confirmation that you love him almost as much as he loves you.

Sexual Encounter: LORD—- okay. okay. Just like Zoro trial and error HOWEVER. Much longer and worse. He really is still a pervert no matter how much in love he is with you so you have to take it very slow. Once you both are okay to be naked in front of each other he is back to being a shy boy so you constantly kiss and praise him, telling him how good he is for you, how well he is doing for his first time. You were so kind and patient with him, it never fails to leave a chill down his spine (in a good way) when he remembers that night of love making with you, and now that he has more experience he does nothing but reciprocate the same feelings back to you in bed.

[bingusbongu]

May I humbly request some Dr. Flug general dating hcs.. (hES SUCH A LITTLE GUY RVRGGGRGRHR)

-🖋

A/N: SORRY IM ALITTLE LATE URG URG URG, well, i did do some Flug canons awhile back, BUTTTT since he is my favorite character of all time ill do some more:) I WANNA KISS THE BAG MAN. Also im going to be trying out some tumblr post styles in the next few posts i do to actually make my work appealing and attract more people! So dont mind if it looks different^^

SORRY THIS IS KINDA LONG I HYPERFIXATED SO BAD

《 Masterlist 》

《 Rules 》

TW: Stalking, mentions of neglect and abuse, murder and insane scientist behavior , mentions of starving,

Dr. Flug General Dating HCS

• okay, the fact that he even managed to start dating you is truly bizarre to him. Even the fact you found out he liked you was by pure accident

• you either found out from Demencia who spilled the beans on accident while blabbing about the doctor, or Flug accidently fumbling out an "i love you" after you either do something for him while he wasnt paying attention.

• though, it worked out right after he found himself with a partner, and he STILL is so befuddled about it

• does not know a single thing about being in a relationship. You are going to have to be the one taking the lead. Slowly showing him the ropes of how a relationship works. He litterly took notes while you tried to explain everything to him, ITS IMPORTANT TO HIM OKAY??????

Once he gets an understanding of how a relationship works, he kinda starts,,, watching you abit more? Not only is he worried about you but he also tries to figure out your favorite things. He gets even more observant of you. Documenting you like you are some wild animal.

oh? You like a certain food? Writing it down. Certain type of chocolate? Writing it down. Special interest? Favorite music? Favorite animal? Favorite color? Everything about you he has down in his brain and his notes.

• though, he is usually to busy to actually go out and buy you certain things, so, instead, when he occasionally had time, he might tinker something small for you or fix something you need up! Just go to him and ask! Or if you dont, you might find it mysteriously fixed the next day

if YOU get him something, he has to stand there and pause for a second. You, got him something? You took your time to pick him out something? You put thought into a gift for him? He absolutely gets butterflies. And when i mean Butterflies, i mean he gets BUTTERFLIES. He stutters a thank you so bad as he is stimming in his spot.

if its an item like a plane thing he treasures it SO MUCH YOU DONT UNDERSTAND. He will start crying. Anything you buy for him or make for him, he puts it up somewhere so he can always see it, always. When he gets stressed he will look over at it and it automatically calms him down its SO SWEET

• he is so nervous to initiate physical affection that he clams up. He has gone so long without any actual form of touch that isnt to harm him, that he completely forgot what gentle touch feels like, so you are going to have to go slow as to not overwhelm the poor baby:(

Starting by holding his hand, gently slipping it into his own hand during a random time like just walking. He nearly jumps, but once he notices, he gets so flustered just by the little hand holding that he eventually slowly closes his fingers around yours in a gentle hold.

Occasionally putting your hand on his back when he gets upset or angry ir stressed is a MUST, He immediately relaxes

I think he needs a massage, like desperately. Rub this mans shoulders, rub his back gently. He shivers at your touch but completely folds. He has so many knots in his back its sad. So, occasionally, Flug will let you try abd work them out for him

Cuddling would take awhile im the relationship. He still gets so flushed under your gentle touches, that he has to adjust. Once he does though? You best believe he is coming to you for it. After a long day, he will go and find you and collapse into your chest while mummering something and letting you coddle him while listening to him rant, and MAN he appreciates it. He also likes it sometimes when you just are quiet together and he isnt doing something and leaning on eachother. Either he is tinkering or reading something and your are next to him with your head on his shoulder. Its really nice for him to get some quiet.

• kissing??? That also advances over time. You have to start slow. So your first move is definitely a cheek kiss. Slipping one onto his bag on one occasion, he nearly overheated and passed out. Like actually fainted

your form of kissing is just you occasionally pressing soft kisses to his bag. Which would usually happen in the mornings, when no one is looking in his lab, or at night. But each time he nearly explodes.

ACTUALLY kissing him though???? A DREAM. he has to get used to your bag kisses to actually think of kissing you for real. And he gets so flustered by it. Everytime you kiss his bag he cant help but wonder how an actual kiss with you would be like. So, he would stop you one of the times after you kissed him, and shyly ask you for a real kiss. He nearly coward out of it when you happily agreed. Though, you gave him his time, as he lifted his bag up only ever so slightly, and you leaning in to kiss him

Mfs heart actually almost stopped GIVE HIM CPR STAT. It was just a quick kiss, but you had to catch him from falling over before he passed out again

Will occasionally give you kisses back, mainly in the mornings before he goes straight to work, he gives you a little kiss and sluggishly leaving to slave away.

• Dates are alittle tough. Flug is ususlly pretty busy, but, atleast once a month you guys go out with eachother, going who knows where but enjoying some much needed time together

• cant flirt for the LIFE of him. Its always something science or plane related. Its adorable yes, but he doesn't have no capability of flirting with anyone, even if he tried.

• your guy's relationship is very secretive. Especially with Flug being a villain it puts a target on you. Even if you work alongside him, he dosnt want anything to happen to you, so he does everything in his power to protect your guy's relationship. Who knows what would happen if the big Hat himself found out?

The only ones who know of your relationship is Demencia and 505, and his bots

• SPEAKING of 505, he ADORES you. You become his second parent. Adding you in drawings and EVERYTHING. when Flug first started liking you, 505 definitely did his best to edge his father on and talk to you, he is such a good son UGHHHH.

• Flug finds alot of comfort in your presence. You can just walk into a room that he is in and he immediately relaxes and becomes much calmer.

You are his safe place. Eventually, he will open up to you, you just have to give him time. He has been keeping in his emotions for so long he forgot they even were there. So, if you let him vent out everything to you and you just hold him and listen to everything he has to say, just holding him and letting him actually cry for once, it makes him feel so safe. Like he dosnt have a reason to fear around you.

Will show his face to you eventually, just give him time

• usues nicknames only in private, like 'mi amor' or 'love'. And will have a heart attack if you call him one right back

• you are always there the moment he gets hurt, patching him up while he complsins that he could do it himself. But, underneath, he feels do special to have someone care for him for once in his life

• Flug is VERY protective over you. You are way to special to him for anything to happen to you. He makes sure you have a bot with you 24/7 to protect you incase he isnt there to do so, and to keep an eye on you. He dosnt knoe what he would do if he were to lose one of the only things that actually matters to him. So he always has your vitals up and always knows of you are okay or not.

Benefits of having a mad scientist of a lover, you have to be used to it. He tries so hard to hide that gruesome part of himself away that you just have to accept him for who he is. Even if you do, he still would prefer to keep you away from his work as to not traumatize you, no matter if you are used to it

Though, if someone is bothering you, being mean to you, just automatically tell him if he dosnt already know, they will go missing within an hour after you tell him. He would litterly do anything for you. You can say "kill this man" and he will attack without hesitating.

• he doesn't get to jelous, he mainly gets insecure. If your talking to someone else, he eternally freaks out, thinking about how he is a bad partner and your are going go leave him. You have to reassure him that you love him and are not going to leave him

• is very hesitant when you offer to help him out in the lab. He dosnt want you to end up hurting yourself, and he would feel awful if you were to do so. When you do try and help him out, its mainly just giving him tools and listing to him rant about the new invention. Regardless, the two of you enjoy the time together.

• just, out of random, you are the cook. Flug has so much troubles trying to cook its sad. He never really had time to learn for himself, and he is used to his bots doing it for him instead, or not at all. So, to make SURE this man eats, you make him food! Keeping Demencia away from it and bringing it down to his lab to eat, instead of starving himself. And boy does he appreciate it so much

Speaking of his bad habits, you have to make sure he actually eats and drinks water and rests. He is so stubborn and fights you sluggishly on it, but you always win and are dragging him to bed.

• Flug wont say it, but he depends on you so much, you are his rock, his caretaker. What on earth would he even do without you? You guys actually have a healthy relationship. You are aways with him and supporting him, no matter what the situation is, he knows he has someone who actuslly looks to him as a human being, who gives him the love he needs

He loves you so much, you are the sun to him, brightening him up and bringing him warmth and comfort.

He often asks himself

How did he get so lucky?

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hallo!!

may i ask for a little spronkle of fluff? Donna goes out to town to buy fabrics, the neewww (oh, wow!) cleric selling it to her, Reader, has almost the exact same scar on their face (except for it not being unnaturally deformed, -- reader got it from like, an encounter with a rabid animal, or something),

Donna gets curious and asks about it, leading to a casual conversation, which led to Donna wanting to come back and chat with the new hire, seeing as how, unbeknownst to Reader (because, obviously, Donna wears the veil, Reader wouldnt know she had the same mutation) they had something in common, their scarring

Make it so that Reader (very slowly) catches on ?? And they develop feelings overtime ?? But, doesnt know if 'big-lady-Donna' feels the same way, so they just.. shaddap? (i had to use that 'big-lady' reference, or it wouldve haunted me, forgive, forget)

Reader asks to see Donnas face (although, very nervously, because of, yknow, Angie staring down Readers soul, aswell as Donnas rank/title), Donna complies, although hesitantly, and Reader is just so entranced by how similar the size/placement/colour of their scarring is, that theyre just so hyped, and cant help to call Donna beautiful, to call her newly-revealed, singular eye 'enchanting' and whatnot (make Reader a nervous sap, i beg and i plead, i need this prompt to rot my teeth),

Donna gets fed up from how clueless Reader is to how much Donna appreciates them -- leading to, very reluctant, and/or peeved (take that as you will, im unsure how to topic Donnas nerves, tremors, mood-swings and whatnot) confession, coming from Donnas side. (Meaning: Donna confesses first, very awkwardly, and shyly, and Reader obviously accepts, because, .. They're girlfriends, your honor!)

Angie, meanwhile, is hurling in the background because of how cheesy, and forced, Donnas confession was, (although, secretely, Angie is over the moon that her Donsie made a new (girl)friend). Maybe add a little bit of like, restless, over-thinking rambling in Italian to that mix. (Ex: Donna just going over about how cool it is that they have matching scars, maybe Reader could come over to her estate and see her portrait without it. *Mumble mumble, something nervy in italian*, do you wanna come over? Do you wanna see my workshop? Do you wanna see my dolls? I can have one resemble you. Do you sew? We can make dolls -- *Mumble, trips over words, Italian*)

Make it from Donnas prospective, Please and thanks!!

No smut, just wholesome wholesomeness, and ofcourse, happy, diabetes-inducing ending, where Reader does agree to come and hang out with her -- make them Girlfriends with your writers-magic from that point on, because i have no idea what else to add to explain how overtime THEY FALL INLOVESIES!!! (AGHH! SUCH ROMANCE! THEYRE SO INLOVE!!!)

No mention of G!P or just, like, any arousal in general (since ive seen it mentioned on other posts, by other people, when asked for no smut, i just wanted to clarify)

hope i explained this okay?? Sometimes im pretty vague/too specific while typing and add too many '()'s and '/'s (overthinking autism brain -- HEY! LOOK! I JUST DID IT AGAIN!)

wish ya the best of luck, aswell as the best of day, may Angie bite your fingers (not really.. aha.. joking! Or am i?), Ciao, Blusy!

Yesss!!! Wow, it was a curious request! Thank you!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Two broken faces

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings:¡ fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 9,376

Summary: She's so simliar, but so different...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

I thought I had everything I needed.

I had my dolls, my books, the peace that solitude offers a woman like me… Always afraid of people, always hiding, I found in my isolated world a peaceful place to live, for all eternity.

I didn't ask for this, I never asked the Black Gods to have mercy on my soul, I didn't ask Mother Miranda to adopt me, I never asked anyone for that second chance, I just wanted to die.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if my family hadn't been noble, if my ancestors hadn't been part of the founding of this village. Maybe I would have had the chance to live in a different way or maybe my wish to disappear would have simply been fulfilled.

Donna Beneviento, a young woman who stopped fighting. Yes, surely they would put something similar on my grave. I would have become a legend, that woman who lost everything, who was cursed with an illness, who was condemned to watch how little by little, the world around me faded away behind that horrible waterfall.

But… After all, after that mercy that I didn't ask for, the result wasn't very different. To think that I was no longer alone would be to deceive myself. Angie was already speaking before I insisted on giving her life with my new gifts. Angie was me, I was Angie.

Maybe she's still me, even if I don't realize it, maybe I’m not even a Lord, maybe I wasn't even alive anymore. It was hard to know. That position of power that the Gods granted me only served to make my horrible thoughts to take shape, to find in cruelty a way to relieve the pain of my soul, the rage I felt at having been unjustly deprived of a normal life.

Josef was the first, but not the last.

What was the fault of the man who took care of me after the death of my family? None. Why did I do it? Because I could.

I try to look in the mirror and not see that reflection, the reflection of my horrible appearance, of that punishment for the sins I didn’t commit, but I only see a monster, a monster on the outside, a monster on the inside.

Surely that was what Miranda expected of me: another terrifying being to keep the flock under control. I cannot deny that she succeeded. I myself became the fear, the terror.

That legend that I thought I would become by ending my life became a dark tale, a nightmare story, the story of the terrible doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

I could not say when she stopped mattering to me, I cannot even say that one day she stopped. Loneliness was my fear, until it became my refuge. You did not love me before, when I was just a girl with a scar, now that I am a monster your punishment would be to fear me.

None of that matters, not even my brothers, nor this cursed village. I only care about Angie, my dolls, those that do not judge, that do not laugh at me, that do not fear me, that do not feel anything. The flesh deceives, lies, harms, porcelain does not. Porcelain is malleable, it looks the way I want, it is beautiful, soft and does not hate me.

I wish I could have been a doll, I wish I could free myself from the hatred that was inside me…

“Grigio,” I said in a whisper, while I was devoting my soul to making my dolls, to creating those emotionless beings that I envied.

Angie nodded, walking around the work table, looking for the fabric I asked for.

“Grey again, Donna?” the doll asked, in a mocking tone. I nodded without looking at her, finishing correcting the imperfections of that new companion.

“What's your problem with grey?” I asked, cleaning the smooth porcelain, with my gaze fixed on it, trying not to let Angie distract me, as she usually did.

“It's boring,” the doll said, handing me a too small piece of fabric, making me frown.

“It's not enough, I need much more,” I said focused, shaking my head. The doll shrugged, walking over to her new friend.

“There is no more grey fabric,” Angie mocked, hands on her hips.

I sighed, snapping out of my concentration, searching through the drawers. I would never trust Angie, I would never trust myself.

“There isn’t?” I asked confused, searching the workshop for the desired fabric. The doll growled angrily at my distrust, crossing her arms.

“I already told you, silly Donna,” she mocked, getting down from the table. I sighed, rubbing my eye. I had been in the workshop for hours, I couldn’t say how many.

“Angie…” I sighed tiredly, shaking my head and finally abandoning my dolls, walking through the dark basement hallway, through that comforting darkness. “I'm not in the mood for your nonsense.”

“Are you ever in the mood?” the puppet asked, with a mocking tone.

I didn't answer. I simply walked towards the phone, looking in a address book for the number of the village merchant, the Duke.

“Oh, oh, oh, ask the fat guy if he has yellow wool balls,” Angie said, tugging at my dress.

 I looked at her, unable to help but smile. Who it was didn't matter, my position as a Lord didn't matter, I was sure that, without Angie, I would have given up a long time ago.

“What do you want yellow wool balls for?” I asked amused, picking up the phone and dialing the number slowly, indicating to Angie that she should let herself be picked up. I still needed her to speak for me.

“I don't know, they're funny,” she commented, taking the phone while I lovingly put her old clothes on. “Hello, hello? Fatty?”

Nothing, no one seemed to answer.

“He doesn't pick up,” Angie whispered so I frowned, snatching the phone from her and checking she was telling the truth.

“Maybe he's not in the village,” I sighed, hanging up and shaking my head. “How convenient, I need that damn fabric.”

“He might be in his warehouse,” Angie commented, going back down to the floor. “Although I doubt he will fit through the door,” she mocked amused, making me smile again.

“What do we do now?” I asked, looking at the crumbling ceiling.

“Why don't we go to the village?” Angie suggested. “We can look for the Duke there.”

“No,” I said dryly, hardening my expression.

“Silly Donna... I want my wool balls!” the doll protested, in a childish way, irritating me again. “Let's go to the village, to the village!”

“Madonna… I said no, Angie,” I snorted, in a brusque tone.

No, I didn't want to go to the village, I didn't want to see anyone, I didn't want to see fear in people's eyes, I didn't want to see it again.

“Silly, you stupid pasta thing,” the doll hissed. “Stupid Donna”

“Are you done yet?” I asked with irony, with a dangerous look. As expected, the doll shook her head.

“Donna, you coward, I want my wool balls!” she shrieked irritatingly again, making me lose my patience.

“Chuidi quella cazzo di bocca!” I shouted furiously, completely out of my mind, causing the puppet to flee in terror, hiding behind a table.

Once again, I had lost control for no reason. I would never be able to escape my sentence.

I tried to relax, to make the trembling in my body disappear. I breathed deeply, lowering my head.

“Perdonami, Angie…” I sighed in a calmer tone, walking slowly to the doll's hiding place. She, timidly, peeked out. “I shouldn't have yelled at you.”

“You're very tense,” the doll whispered. “You have to relax...”

“I know, forgive me, please,” I said with my voice broken by the rage of my behavior, extending my arms towards her, who timidly approached, letting me pick her up from the floor.

 “Of course I forgive you, silly,” the doll said, hugging me in a childish way, bringing the smile back to my face.

“Fine… W-we'll go to the village to get the fabrics, what do you think?” I finally said, trying to compensate my only friend for having to put up with me day after day, for having to live… With a monster.

“Yay!” the puppet celebrated as I carried her in my arms, leaving the comfort of that dark basement.

I never liked going out, feeling the cold on my body, feeling insecure, outside the safety of the cracked walls. Maybe no one had the misfortune of seeing my face, but my mere presence was already uncomfortable enough for anyone.

Just think about it, a woman in black clothes, with her face hidden by a black veil, a lifeless figure which comes walking slowly towards you. It was terrifying.

Luckily, there didn't seem to be many people in the village, it was a cold morning. I also didn't want to notice if there were eyes watching me, if there was a child trembling in its mother's arms when it saw me walking.

The Duke's warehouse wasn't far away, and I headed there as quickly as possible. My breathing was uncontrolled, my anxieties were already starting to make me too nervous. I wanted to go home.

“Duuuuke!” Angie called when we entered the cabin. “Duuuuke! Where are you?”

There didn't seem to be anyone there and we both looked at each other, shrugging our shoulders. Not wanting to wait for that vermin to appear, I approached the place where he kept the fabrics, looking for that desired grey tone my doll needed.

“What do you think, Angie?” I asked the puppet, who was curiously rummaging through the merchant's things, nodding disinterestedly. “Where are the grey ones...?”

“Hello,” an unknown voice startled me, a female voice that was not familiar to me.

From among the boxes, a girl appeared, a young girl with a splendid smile. I didn’t recognize her, I would remember that face. Near her left eye there was a horrible scar. I couldn’t help but bring my hand to my face when I found a similarity between that deformity and mine.

The girl shook her hands, with an elegant gesture, without that smile disappearing.

“Lady Beneviento,” she said softly, lowering her head. “Surely the Duke would spend the whole morning flattering your presence but I believe in naturalness, do you need something?”

“Where is the fatty? Who are you?” Angie asked, letting me pick her up again while pointing at that unknown girl.

“Oh, the Duke is on a business trip, or so he told me,” she said, amused, shaking her head. “But I'm sure I can help you, or try, at least.”

I looked at her curiously, unable to take my eyes off her scar, one that didn’t hide her beauty at all. I couldn't say why, but my cheeks began to blush.

I didn't say anything. I just looked at her confused, just like the doll did with me, waiting for me to react.

“Oh, sorry, I haven't introduced myself,” the girl said with an apologetic look, extending her hand towards me, a hand that seemed very soft… “I'm (Y/N), the Duke hired me to be his assistant when he wasn't around. I manage the warehouse too.”

I hesitated for a moment. My instincts pushed me to reject that greeting, to ignore that smiling young woman, but, for some reason, I didn't. I slowly extended my hand towards hers, shaking it briefly, feeling for myself that I wasn't wrong, her skin was very soft, warm.

“It’s, it's a pleasure to meet you too,” she joked, confused by my shy greeting, with a natural, beautiful smile... “I never thought I'd have the honor of having one of you here.”

“Shut up, you stupid village girl! We've come for...” Angie said, interrupted by a sudden movement of my arms, letting her fall to the floor. “Hey!”

“I ne-ne-need fabrics,” I whispered with a hoarse, timid, barely audible voice. The girl frowned, coming a little closer to me.

“Excuse me, but I didn't hear you,” she said amused but with a kind look.

“Fabrics, stupid! Fabrics!” Angie shrieked, startling the young woman, who, surprisingly, kept her composure masterfully.

“Oh, fabrics, of course,” (Y/N) said, nodding and passing by me, letting me get a closer look at that scar so similar to mine, one that had me quite interested. “If you would be so kind as to come with me…”

I nodded slowly, following the young assistant through the warehouse.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” she asked naturally, rummaging through a pile of fabrics.

“G-Grey fabric…” I murmured, clearing my throat, with Angie looking at me strangely. I couldn't blame her for it, I was very nervous.

“Grey…” (Y/N) commented, searching with her eyes. “Oh, yes, here,” she said amused, pointing at several fabrics of that same color.

“Wool balls, we want wool balls,” Angie said with a haughty tone while I touched those fabrics with curiosity, unable to avoid looking at that girl out of the corner of my eye.

“Wool balls?” she asked confused, scratching her head. “Mm, yes, this way,” she said, gesturing for the puppet to follow her.

I paused for a moment to look at her again, my heart beating fast and my eye unable to stop studying each of her movements. She was a really beautiful young woman, who surely hid some terrible story, maybe one as horrible as mine, maybe… Oh, I didn’t know why I was thinking about it.

“Do you see anything you like?” she asked me when finished attending to Angie, getting closer to me, maybe too close, allowing me to look at her more closely again.

“Um, yes… I…” I stammered nervously, clearing my throat again and pointing at a random roll of fabric. Luckily, it was a grey one.

“This one? Good…” the young woman commented, taking the roll and heading to a small counter. “How much do you want?”

“No, I… I’ll take the entire roll,” I said, nodding, putting my hands together in front of my body, playing with them discreetly to try to stop shaking.

“The entire roll?” (Y/N) asked, frowning. The Duke never questioned me, why did she?

“Is there a problem, silly?” Angie asked mockingly, comically wrapped in a wool ball.

“No, there’s no problem but… I don’t know if you can handle it, it’s quite heavy,” the girl said amused, leaning on the counter and looking at that large roll of fabric. “I mean, I’m not saying you can’t… I mean, I…”

I laughed at that shy side, that nervous side my presence provoked in her. Normally I would have groaned or sighed at the sight of her body trembling, but on that occasion, I didn't. Even when she was nervous, she couldn't lose that bright smile.

“Calm down, I know what you mean,” I said in a different tone, louder and noticeable, as if my own voice was eager to talk to her.

“Uff, okay...” she sighed, running a hand over her forehead in a playful way. “Sorry, my lady, I'm not used to dealing with... Lords, you know.”

I laughed again, shaking my head. I could feel Angie's eyes looking at me inquisitively, but I didn't pay attention to them. Not wanting to look stupid, I took out a bag of coins, leaving them on the counter. (Y/N) picked them up, writing something down in a notebook.

“Fine...” the girl murmured, leaving the pen on top of the notebook. “Do you need anything else, my lady?” she asked kindly.

I shook my head, turning to leave, picking up my doll again, who was still staring at me.

“No, thank you,” I muttered before walking out the door. Something, something made me stop and turn around. “Uh, actually, I do.”

“Mm?” (Y/N) hummed, with that same kind smile, following me with her gaze as I approached the counter again.

“I don't remember seeing you before,” I said with a dry voice, with an indifferent tone. I didn't want to show her how nervous I was, besides, I didn't even know why I was that nervous.

“I'm elusive,” she answered amused, leaning on the counter in a casual manner. “But the truth is that I've been here all my life.”

“Working for the fat guy?” Angie asked, with a curious tone, shifting in my arms.

“No, no,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head, laughing amused. “I mean, I've been in the village all my life.”

“Really? It's funny, you don't sound familiar to me,” I commented, with a slightly dark tone, analyzing her expressions. The girl shrugged, as if it wasn't the most comfortable question for her.

“Well... I'm not very fond of masses...” she murmured in a cautious tone. “Don't get me wrong, I adore Mother Miranda, and you, and of course I pray to the Black Gods every day and...”

“Mmm…” Angie got out of my arms, walking along the counter until she was very close to her. “She's lying.”

“What? Oh, no, no, I’m not,” the assistant said, now a little more scared. “No, my lady, no, I'm not lying.”

“I don't care if you are, (Y/N),” I commented, moving the doll away from her, laughing shyly again. “I'm not judging you.”

“Oh, okay…” the girl sighed, with an exaggerated gesture of relief. “Well, to be honest, I've never had a particular interest in… All that stuff about the Gods.”

I nodded nervously, wanting to ask a thousand questions, without knowing why, without knowing what exactly was keeping me in that warehouse.

“But, but I go to masses,” she said with a more relaxed tone, pretending sincerity. “Um… Um…Do you want… Do you want something else?”

“No,” I answered abruptly, turning around again and walking towards the door.

When I arrived, I realized that my legs weren't moving, that my head wanted to turn towards that girl again. My behavior was strange, but I couldn't help it.

“Yes,” I said, entering again, causing her to laugh amusedly and look at me in amazement, probably because of my pathetic attitude. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Lycans,” she answered, relaxing her expression. I frowned and shook my head, confused.

“Cosa?”

“My scar, I know you were going to ask me about it,” she said with a relaxed tone, pretending to read the notes in that account book.

“No, I…” I stammered, embarrassed to know that it was really what I wanted to know, what had caught my attention.

“Don’t worry, my lady, nothing is wrong. I’m not ashamed of it,” she said with a sincere look, one that made me see that her left eye had a slightly whiter tone, as if it had no life.

That was how I was like when I was a child, when everyone laughed at me.

“What…? What happened to you?” I asked in a cautious, strangely curious tone.

“When I was 10 I made the stupid mistake of going into the forest at dusk, you know, I wanted to be the bravest girl and blah blah blah…” (Y/N) commented casually, gesturing with her hands. I nodded for her to continue. “How was I supposed to know that there were lycans in the woods? It seems unlikely in a place like this, right? Um, sorry, it was, it was a joke.”

“Uh-huh,” I whispered, frowning. “A joke?”

“Yeah, well… I've learned that, in order to be happy, you must learn to laugh at yourself,” (Y/N) explained, with a smile adorning her beauty again.

“Do you find that some lycans hurt you funny? You could have died,” I said annoyed by that attitude. No, that wasn't funny, it couldn't be.

“I know, but… Here I’m,” she said sighing, spreading her arms in a playful way. “I lost the vision of my left eye, but… I'm still alive, and that's the important thing.”

“You seem like a very optimistic girl,” I commented, with an amused laugh, inadvertently getting a little closer to her.

“Mm, well, it can't be any other way,” the girl said in a relaxed tone, tilting her head.

“It must have… It must have been… difficult for you, you know…” I said stuttering, raising my hand to discreetly point out the deformity of her face. “Children can be very cruel.”

“Oh, not at all,” she said with a wider smile, shaking her head. “There hasn't been anyone brave enough to mess with me.”

I laughed again, incredulous at that attitude, one so different from mine. So similar and so different at the same time… Like the two sides of the same coin.

“Why you say so?” I asked curiously, with Angie starting to get impatient, tugging at my dress probably wanting to go back home.

“Because if they did… Well, they were very likely to go home with a black eye,” she whispered in a lower voice, as if she wanted to tell me a secret. “You know what they say: an eye for an eye, right?”

She was a mysterious girl, one who, with every thing she said, brought a soft laugh to my lips. It had been a long time since I laughed so many times, that the smile refused to leave my face.

“Um, I…” I murmured after a moment of awkward silence, holding Angie's hands, which pulled at my dress harder and harder. “I'll leave you alone, I've already stolen too much of your time.”

“You can steal all the time you want, my lady, as you see, there's no one around here,” the merchant said amused, looking around.

“Um, yes, well, I… I'm, I'm leaving, th-thanks,” I stammered, closing my eye because of my pathetic stammering, ready this time to really leave, to control my desire to stay and chat with that girl.

“Wait,” she said, leaving me pinned to the ground, walking out the counter. “Wait, I…”

“Mm?”

“Um, hey, you're not as scary as they say,” (Y/N) said nervously, biting her lip to contain her words, words that, apparently, came out of her mouth on their own. “I mean, I, I liked meeting you, Lady Beneviento.”

“Oh, I…” I stammered, struggling between joy and anger. I couldn't blame her for fearing me, everyone did and everyone would, forever. “Me… Me too, (Y/N)…”

It could have been just another day, but it wasn't. Meeting (Y/N) made me start to smile. It didn't matter what I was doing: cooking, reading, working with my dolls... The beauty of her face was always present in my thoughts.

Chance is a capricious God, one that made me suddenly find myself with my distorted reflection. Yes, a scar identical to the one I had as a child, a face deformed by misfortune, just like me.

But, even though we had that in common, we were very different. (Y/N) was cheerful, outgoing and didn't let anyone make fun of her. I was the opposite, like an evil double, like the negative of a photograph. It might seem silly, but, as the days went by, that urge to want to go back to the warehouse became more and more intense.

Sewing in my workshop, as always, I searched in my head for a logical explanation for my sudden interest in that young woman, like every time I did, without finding an answer.

“Angie,” I said, frowning, looking at the old sewing machine. The doll, having fun with her new wool balls, walked towards me comically getting tangled in the yellow thread.

“I hope it's not something to do with the girl from the warehouse,” the puppet hissed. Poor thing, she was sick of hearing me talk about her.

“No, no,” I said with a look that gave away my lie. “Look,” I helped the doll to get on my lap while pointing at the old machine.

“What's wrong?” she asked, looking at the machine and then at me, confused.

“Don't you see it?” I asked with a frown, picking up a piece of freshly sewn fabric. “Look at these seams, they're not right.”

“They’re just like always,” the doll commented, playing with the piece of fabric in her hands.

“No, no, not at all,” I said, shaking my head again, blinking, giving away my lie. “There's something wrong with the machine.”

“Do you know what's wrong? Your brain,” the doll mocked, causing me to grunt. “There's nothing wrong with the machine, Donna.”

“I'm telling you, it's broken,” I insisted, pretending to look for the fault that old machine didn't have. “I think there's something stuck… I should take it to (Y/N). Maybe she can take a look at it.”

“Oh, of course, of course…” the doll sighed, moving her arms in an exaggerated way. “You just want to see her again.”

“No, I… Non è vero…” I muttered, stumbling over my words. “It's, it's the machine…”

“There's nothing wrong with the machine, silly Donna, stop making stupid excuses. If you want to see (Y/N), why don't you just go?” Angie said, putting a wooden finger on my nose, which I wrinkled in displeasure, determined to deny the evidence.

“It’s not about that, Angie,” I protested, pounding my fists on the table but relaxing instantly. “I want her to take a look at it.”

“A look?” the doll scolded me. “Oh, yes, what a great idea… What are you going to tell her when she realizes that the machine is perfectly fine?”

I tried to fight back, but I couldn’t. I huffed angrily, gritting my teeth. Angie was right. My legs trembled nervously as my gaze wandered to the old machine. I didn’t even think about it.

With a quick gesture, I pushed the sewing machine to the floor, crashing against it with a dull sound, indicating that something had broken. It was a pathetic, almost desperate plan. I still didn’t know what I was doing, why I was doing it, or rather, I didn’t want to know.

“Silly Donna! Nonna’s machine!” Angie shrieked, getting down to the floor to check the condition of the machine. I remained serious, but I adopted a haughty pose.

“What do you say now? Diamo un’occhiata?” I asked mockingly, bending down to pick up the broken machine from the floor, ignoring the insults and protests of the doll.

It was too easy for me to put the veil back on and leave my house. I had a fixed destination. I had her beauty waiting for me. I think I was starting to get too nervous. Breaking my grandmother’s machine so I could see that girl… It sounded crazy, but I didn’t want to think about it.

“Oh, my lady, what a surprise,” (Y/N) said, coming down a ladder, with a, as always, beautiful smile. “The Duke has already returned from his trip, he should have brought you the fabrics.”

“Yes, I…” I murmured nervously, holding the box under Angie’s fierce gaze. “I wanted, I wanted to see you.”

“Me?” the girl asked, approaching curiously, brushing the dust off her dress.

I could only nod, leaving the box on the counter.

“I thought you could help me with this,” I muttered, with a broken voice, much more nervous than in our first meeting.

“Wow…” the young woman commented, taking the broken machine out of the box, observing every detail. “A Singer 66k, from 1917… What happened to it? It's in pieces…”

“Angie threw it,” I lied cowardly, earning a furious gasp from the doll.

“What are you talking about?!” the doll shrieked unpleasantly. “Liar, Donna liar, Donna…!”

I silenced the puppet with a subtle movement of my hands, making it stop screaming and move away, unable to stop it from glaring at me as it did so.

“Oh, that was a nasty fall…” (Y/N) joked, studying the machine. “It's a shame, it's a beauty.”

“C-Can you fix it?” I asked timidly, starting to regret what I had done. Her smile showed me that I shouldn't do it.

“Mm, I think so,” she said nodding, moving the machine to a small table with tools. I followed closely, watching her curiously. “Let's see…”

“I can, I can leave you alone if you are more comfortable,” I murmured when she started working, checking the pieces with a frown. She stopped and looked at me, shaking her head, with that wonderful smile…

“Oh, no, well… It's good to have some company, besides, that way I can prove that I'm not scamming you,” the assistant said amused, carefully unscrewing the machine.

“I trust you,” I said without thinking, playing with my hands again, trying not to look at her face, not to notice that scar that told me we had something in common, even if she couldn't know it.

“You must be the only one,” she commented sighing, searching for something in a box of spare parts. I tilted my head curiously. “Normally the people of this village are quite distrustful… I can't blame them, my boss is not exactly a… reliable man…” she said smiling, making the gesture of quotation marks with her fingers.

“You are not like him,” I said, stating a truth of which I was completely sure.

“Mm no, I hope so,” the girl joked amused, struggling with the machine. “Okay…”

Silence reigned again in the warehouse. She worked on the machine with surprising skill while I watched her, memorizing each of her movements. If she had noticed how I looked at her… Well, she would surely be terribly uncomfortable.

“So… Do you use this machine to you make clothes for your dolls?” (Y/N) asked, taking me out of my thoughts. “Y-you made dolls, right?”

“Cosa?” I said distractedly, thinking about her past, about how she had to live through that attack, about her courage when facing mockery and offensive comments, how did she do it? “Oh, I… Yes, yes of course…”

She smiled, nodding, without stopping working.

“You know? You can tell the quality of a handmade product…” she commented distractedly. “I mean, there are modern machines now but… If you ask me, I prefer the old ones, like this beauty”

“Y-Yes, I… I think the same,” I said with a smile that she couldn't see, luckily.

“I think… I think it's done,” she said, moving the crank to check that it worked correctly. “Just like new.”

I didn't expect it to end so quickly. I got nervous, like every time something didn't turn out the way I had thought.

“You are… You are skilled,” I flattered her, taking the machine and checking that, indeed, it was already fixed.

She shrugged, with an amused smile.

“There had to be something good about me, right?” she joked, getting up from the table and passing by me, allowing me to look even more at her beauty.

“Uh… Tell me how much I owe you,” I said, putting the machine back in the box, searching in my head for an absurd excuse to stay a little longer, just a little longer…

“Oh, nothing,” she said, looking at me amused, shaking her head. “It’s not necessary.”

“W-Wait, I have, I have to pay you,” I said, with my hands starting to sweat again. You relaxed your expression, sighing and shaking your head again.

“No, that it’s not necessary,” the girl said with a confused smile, surely due to the trembling of my body. “I’m happy to help you, my lady.”

“No, don't be condescending to me for who I am, I beg you to let me pay you,” I insisted with a darker, almost angry voice. Her smile was worth more than all the gold in the world...

“I'm not condescending, I'm just doing you a favor, I like you,” she murmured, frowning, as if she was trying to meet my gaze.

I pointed at myself in surprise. The words refused to come out of my mouth.

“Do you... do you like me?” I asked stammering, puzzled by that phrase, one that couldn't be true.

“Yes, you're kind,” she said, looking away. “It's not something that's especially common in this place.”

“Oh, well, I... I...” I said nervously, having the imperative need to run out of there to hide my embarrassment, the invisible blush on my cheeks. “Grazie, (Y/N)…”

“Prego,” (Y/N) said, with a wider smile, as if she knew the reaction that hearing her speak that way would provoke in my body, paralyzing it completely.

“D-Do you know Italian?” I asked curiously, with my voice shaking at the same time as my body. She laughed amused, with a clueless expression.

“Nope,” she whispered in an ironic tone. “I know the basics.”

“Oh, of course…” I said, even more nervous, looking for Angie with my gaze. “I… I'm, I'm leaving now and… Well, we'll see each other, and…”

“Whenever you want,” (Y/N) said, sitting on the counter casually, swinging her legs and picking up what looked like a cup of coffee. “Um, my lady,” she said suddenly, when I had already turned around. My blood froze again. “I hope your doll doesn't break any more things.”

“Hey!” Angie protested, rummaging through the counter. “Shut up, you idiot!”

“Angie…” I sighed, gesturing with my head so the puppet would stop stirring everything up.

“She seems to be funny,” (Y/N) commented, looking curiously at Angie.

“Yes… W-Well… She's… I don't know how to describe her…” I said, more and more nervous. “I guess she's one of a kind.”

“I see, she's like you then,” the girl said in a low tone, one that betrayed nervousness. The doll was making her nervous.

“Angie, basta,” I growled at the puppet, who was staring indiscreetly at the cup of coffee.

“Do you like coffee?” the saleswoman asked in a kind tone, looking at Angie, letting me see her beautiful, damaged face. It was so similar to mine…

“I don't know,” Angie said, in a petulant tone. “What I know is that calling this thing coffee is blasphemy, how disgusting.”

“Angie…” I protested, losing my nerves, kicking the floor pathetically.

“Hey, it's not that bad, is it?” (Y/N) asked, bringing the cup to her lips and making a face of disgust. “Well, maybe it is.”

“Don't mind her, (Y/N)…” I sighed, noticing how the sweat ran down my forehead, how my nerves kept increasing. “Angie, dai!”

“Don't be mad at her, my lady, she's right,” (Y/N) said, pouring another coffee into a different cup. “Maybe you can give me your opinion… You, you Italians are good with coffee, aren't you?”

“Me?” I asked, leaving the box on the counter, timidly reaching out my hand for the cup she offered me. “W-Well, I wouldn't know how to answer that… Actually my, my family was Italian, I… I was born here.”

“Well, but I'm sure you have better taste than me,” the girl commented, leaning on the table, frowning suddenly. “Oh, it's not mandatory, I'm sure you have a lot of things to do instead of wasting time with me.”

“Not really,” I whispered, breathing heavily at her apparent nervousness. Not wanting to think, not wanting to feel the things I felt when looking at her, I brought that steaming coffee to my lips, moving my veil aside.

(Y/N) looked away, not wanting to be indiscreet, respecting my decision, but fighting with herself to do so. I could see her confused face, her desire to look at me.

The bitter taste filled my throat. It was really horrible, I hate having to agree with Angie.

“How is it?” the young woman asked, with a fearful look. I shook my head, pushing the disgusting coffee away from my sight and smell.

“È orribile…” I murmured, trying to sound amused. I never knew how to do it.

“I thought so…” the girl sighed, making a face of disgust at that cup. “No matter how hard I try, I can't handle that thing,” she said amused, pointing to an old coffee maker.

“Do you want me to show you how to do it?” I asked without thinking, I asked without wanting to, without being able to help it. She looked at me curiously, then at the coffee maker, and finally at me again, nodding with a shy smile.

“Well, it's not necessary,” she murmured, scratching the back of her neck, downplaying it.

“Please, consider it… A favor,” I said, mysteriously sure of myself. “Because, because of the machine.”

“Mm, well, okay,” she said quickly, gesturing for me to follow her.

As calmly as I could, I taught the young woman how to make a real coffee and how to handle that coffee maker properly. She listened to me attentively, looking at me from time to time and writing down my advice in a notebook.

She was so close to me, her bright eyes were so close to mine… I don't know at what moment I was stuck in her gaze, in her almost perfect face, no, no, in her perfect face.

“It smells so good…” she commented, inhaling the intense aroma of coffee, closing her eyes, granting me the blessing of contemplating her relaxed face, her tender gaze. “I was definitely doing everything wrong.”

I laughed shyly, pouring some coffee into a cup, offering it to her kindly, praying that she wouldn't notice my shaking hands.

“Try not to fill it with too much water,” I said with a serious tone, pretending disinterest while she tasted my creation, with a look of satisfaction. “Always pay attention to the valve.”

“Yes, this is wonderful…” (Y/N) sighed. “Oh, sure, um… Let me pour you one cup.”

“I… Okay…” I stammered, accepting the offer to sit next to her in a couple of chairs.

Without having thought about it, we were together, enjoying a quiet coffee.

I couldn't remember when I felt so calm, so relaxed and at the same time, so nervous, with my heart beating too fast. I guess it was the coffee…

“And then I told him: I don't need to see with both eyes to notice that you're a complete idiot,” (Y/N) said, chatting with me in a friendly way, as if she had known me all my life. I wish it were like that.

“Did you tell him that?” I asked amused, unable to stop smiling. She nodded with a serious look.

“He wanted to go on a date with me to give me a chance, can you believe it? A chance, as if I couldn't choose...” she asked ironically, shaking her head.

I didn't answer, I just listened attentively. Her anecdotes were funny, but hearing them through her lips... That was out of this world.

“Bah, I don't need a stupid boy to tell me nice things... I know he would only do it out of pity,” she said with a slightly sadder tone.

“Mm,” I murmured, playing with my hands in my lap.

“Every morning I look at myself in the mirror and think: what would my life be like if I didn't have this thing on my face?” she commented distractedly again, stirring her coffee with her spoon erratically. “I always come to the same conclusion: Here I am, this is me, and if you don't like it, fuck you... Oh, I mean, sorry... Go to hell?”

I laughed again, a bit sadly. I saw so many things about myself in her, things she didn't consider a problem. She was brave, I was a coward.

“I wish I could think the same way,” I murmured with a broken voice, attracting her attention, drawing a confused look towards me.

“Why do you say so?” she asked in a different tone, with a more discreet smile, with the glint of caution in her eyes.

I suppressed a sob. (Y/N)'s attitude was admirable, enviable. I was never able to accept reality, to look at myself in the mirror in the same way. I was a monster, and she wasn't.

“Forget it, it's nonsense,” I sighed, getting up, wanting to go home, wanting to cry for being unable to recognize the meaning of my heartbeat, wanting to scream, to curse the Black Gods for being unfair to me.

“Oh, have I, have I said something wrong, my lady?” (Y/N) asked, suddenly standing up, putting a hand on my wrist, making my whole body shudder.

“No,” I said in a cold tone, moving away from her grip, perhaps too abruptly. “Dai, Angie,” I whispered to my doll, who was playing with the junk in that warehouse.

“W-Wait, I'm, I'm sorry,” the girl said, stopping me from continuing, standing in front of me with a pleading look.

“Why are you sorry?” I asked, with an involuntary resentment in my voice.

“Well, I, I didn't want to offend you… If I’ve said something I shouldn't have… Oh, of course, it's because of the: fuck you… I don't usually swear, really… Not always…” the young woman stammered nervously, with her gaze traveling everywhere, unable to focus on mine.

“You haven't offended me,” I said, trying to sound softer so my demons wouldn't overwhelm me again, not at that moment, not with her. “I have to go.”

“Sure, I…” she stammered, helping me to pick up the box again, with a fake smile. “Um, if you're not mad at me… Maybe you'd like to come tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked, surprised by that offer.

“Yes, you know, I, I'd like you to check if I've learned anything about coffee,” she said nervously, with a strange blush on her cheeks.

“Do you want me to come here tomorrow?” I asked again, unable to believe her words.

“Yes, well… Yes, if you want,” she whispered, biting her lip and looking away.

“Mm, maybe I will,” I murmured, smiling, taking advantage of the fact she couldn't see me, my smile was hidden from her, as my monstrous face was.

That was the beginning, just the beginning of my constant visits to that old warehouse.

Funny conversations, exploits and experiences of (Y/N)… Any reason was good to hear her voice, to look at her beauty under the aroma of coffee. I could no longer deny myself my feelings. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, every minute, every second.

“Donna and (Y/N) under a tree …” Angie sang, jumping around while I, like every day, walked towards the village. I growled angrily at the doll, wishing she would shut up.

“Angie, per favore…” I sighed, shaking my head. “Don’t, don't talk that loud…”

“Oh, come on, there's no one here,” the puppet protested. “Besides, you're offended because you would like to be with (Y/N) under a tree.”

“Yes, it's true,” I said with a murmur, taking the doll in my arms so she wouldn't entertain me any longer. “(Y/N) is wonderful, don't you think?”

“(Y/N) is wonderful, beautiful, good, kind, fantastic, the best… Yes, yes, you've been repeating it constantly for weeks,” the doll mocked.

I smiled embarrassed.

“I've never felt this way about anyone,” I sighed, walking slower. “Angie, I'm… I'm in love with (Y/N)…”

“I know!” she complained, crossing her arms. “You're so annoying, Donna…”

“I'm not annoying, I'm talking about my feelings,” I said with a frown. “Hey, do you think, do you think she…?”

“Oh, no, no… Don't try to make me believe that I'm a fortune teller or something, I've already told you that I don't know if she feels the same. I can't read minds,” Angie said, shaking her head.

“But you're always with us,” I said, stopping before crossing the door. “Maybe, maybe you saw something that…”

“Oh, yeah… She doesn't take her eye off you,” the doll mocked with an evil laugh. “You get it? her eye.”

“Cazzo… I'm serious,” I said with a stern tone, starting to breathe hard.

“Me too,” Angie said, defensively.

I sighed, frustrated for not knowing, for not being able to read her thoughts, to decipher her smiles, to know if in any of them, she expressed something else than friendship…

“Oh, but that's not what I'm looking for,” the voice of an unknown woman made me stop in front of the warehouse door. (Y/N) was not alone.

“Who is that witch?” Angie asked, peeking through the door. I covered her mouth, hiding behind a wall.

“Mrs. Gravic…” (Y/N) sighed with a tired voice. “If you would be so kind as to tell me what you are looking for…”

“How rude, girl,” the woman protested, with a tone that made me burn with rage. “I don't know why the Duke hired you…”

“Donna… What do you think?” Angie whispered, rubbing her hands in a playful manner. I nodded, concentrating and gently reaching out my hand towards that unpleasant woman.

“Let's see… What do you say about this?” (Y/N) said, leaving something on the counter, something I couldn't see.

“Mm… Well, it could be that… Oh, Black Gods… Grandpa Igor…” the woman sighed and I smiled in satisfaction.

“Excuse me?” the girl asked, confused.

“Oh, I didn't mean to steal Grandma's jewels, don't chase me, leave me alone… No!” the woman screamed, running out of the warehouse in horror.

I nodded to the doll, high-fiving her. Mission accomplished.

“Hey, Mrs. Gravic?” (Y/N) said, looking at her confused, smiling when she saw me walk through the door. “Oh, Donna.”

“Ciao, (Y/N),” I said with the tone I always used for her, a calm one, increasingly sweeter, increasingly obvious.

“You came early today,” she commented, closing the door, like every time we were together, as if she wanted to save that moment just for the two of us. I shouldn't mistake that kindness, but at the same time, I couldn't help but do so.

“Well…” I said disinterestedly, leaving Angie on the floor, sitting on my usual chair. “I hadn’t anything better to do… I mean… Ugh…”

She laughed amused, shyly looking away, pouring the usual coffee.

It seemed like any other conversation. My words lost their fear. They became bold, even funny. All conversations developed the same way, all except that one.

“Um, forgive me for asking you but…” (Y/N) murmured, with a serious, different tone, with a look far from usual. “You probably think I'm stupid or… Well, that I'm butting in where I shouldn't but… I'm, I'm curious.”

“What are you curious about?” I asked, confused by her different attitude, by the fear I began to see in her hands.

“That,” she said with a sigh pointing at my covered face, one to which I brought my hand, with my breath frozen, lacking air.

 No, not that, my love…

“Um… What?” I asked nervously, diverting the conversation, saying with my gestures that this was the wrong path, that it would only bring her problems.

 “Well, you know, your veil… Why…? Why are you wearing it?” she asked again, her voice increasingly blurred by nervousness.

“Hey! Don't dare to say that to my Donna!” Angie shouted, staring at her, as if she was trying to do me a favor by deciphering her expressions.

“I…” I muttered. My hand was shaking so much that I dropped the coffee cup, breaking it into a thousand pieces on the floor. “Oh, porca miseria!”

“No, it's okay!” she exclaimed, putting her hands in front of her body. “It, it was my fault, I shouldn't have asked that… I, I… I'm, I'm sorry, shit, oh, no, no, I mean, dammit! I'll go to get a broom.”

I stood up, looking at the mess beneath me, nervous, seeking Angie's comfort, one that always brought me back to my senses. I couldn't find her, but I made a decision, the last decision, one last act of stupid bravery.

“Wait,” I said in a whisper, grabbing (Y/N) by the wrist as she swept the floor. “Wait, (Y/N)...”

She looked at me scared, guided by the movement of my hand, which forced her to keep her eyes on mine. Slowly, letting her go, I brought my hand to the black fabric, removing it from my face, revealing my deformed face to her.

Neither of us said anything. (Y/N) blinked in confusion, staring at me, getting a little closer, squinting, mouth agape. I looked away, suppressing my desire to put the veil back on, to run away and never come back.

“Wow...” she sighed, reaching out her hand to my face. I breathed nervously, holding her wrist tightly so it wouldn't reach its destination. I was about to lose my mind, in front of the love of my life… “Donna, wait, let me do it, please.”

I closed my already wet eye, holding back my tears, letting the softness of her hand caress my horrible scar, touch my hair with a rapt look.

“It's, it's incredible...” she murmured again, without stopping caressing me while I, nervous, unable to move, let that tear run down my cheek.

(Y/N) took her hand away, bringing it to her own scar, shaking her head. I couldn't speak, I couldn't even move.

“Donna, you are, you are... You are such a beautiful woman...” she said, smiling in a nervous but sincere way, illuminating me with the light of her beauty, returning her hand to my deformity, as if she herself were as nervous as I was.

“What are you talking about?” I said with great effort, almost furious, clenching my teeth. “N-N-non mi mentire…”

“I'm not lying…” she sighed, touching her own scar again, with a look of astonishment. “Wow, it's… Incredible… We have almost the same scar… Wow… Forgive me, it's just… What a coincidence, isn't it?”

“No, you're beautiful and I'm horrible,” I said sobbing, not believing her words, not even for a second.

“Oh, you must be joking,” (Y/N) said in a calmer tone, almost amused. “You have… You have a beautiful face… And well, what about that eye? It's, it's the most beautiful eye I've ever seen in my entire life.”

“What? Have you gone crazy?” I asked nervously, letting the veil fall to the floor. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Do you really think I'm laughing at you? Really?” she joked, pointing out her defect with a smug pose. I shook my head, trying to control my thoughts. “No, Donna, I'm telling you, I'm telling you the truth… Wait, what did you say?”

“Mm?” I muttered confused, running my hand through my hair, feeling unable to handle the situation any longer.

“That, that thing you said before…” she said, gesturing with her hand, accidentally stepping on the remains of that cup. “You know, that I'm…”

“You're beautiful,” I said with my head down, clenching my fists tightly.

“Mm, and how do I know you're not lying to me? You're my friend, there's no need to be accommodating,” she joked with an amused face, completely ignoring my subtle statement.

“Friend? Are you stupid?” Angie asked. “Donna, please… Tell her now.”

“Tell me what?” (Y/N) asked, curious. I cursed my doll. I was becoming more and more nervous.

“I don't know what she's talking about,” I stammered, having to stop my legs from running away right then and there.

“Hey, you can tell me anything, Donna…” the girl said, whispering in a tender voice, lowering her hands to mine, caressing them in a way that I thought was friendly, that I didn't think was romantic. “Really…”

“No, I…” I said, blinking nervously.

“Is there something worrying you?” she asked again, getting closer to me. “Come on, you can trust me.”

“(Y/N), I…” I stammered again, becoming almost hysterical as I looked at her peaceful gaze.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe it was so difficult for her to understand my feelings. I had taken a definitive step, I couldn't go back. I couldn't turn back now that I had come that far.

“Cazzo! I, I like you, (Y/N)!” I squealed disproportionately, making her widen her eyes and frown.

“Oh, is that it?” she said, still smiling, not getting the not-so-indirect hint. “Oh, Donna, I like you too.”

“Angie’s right,” I hissed angrily, shaking my head. “Are you stupid? I’m telling that I like you, damn it!”

Her face immediately changed to a confused look. I growled again, kicking the chair roughly.

“What do you mean?” she asked again. I froze, turning to her slowly and dangerously. A thunderous laugh filled the warehouse. Angie seemed to be enjoying that.

“Porca puttana!” I squealed again, kicking the floor in rage. “I love you, (Y/N)! I’m fucking in love with you! I can't stop thinking about you day and night, counting the hours until I can see you again! I love you, ti amo! You're the woman of my life!” I squealed abruptly, making her blink comically.

“Oh…” she sighed, with an amused look.

“Is it clear now? Or do you need me to write it down for you?” I said, losing control of my emotions.

(Y/N) shook her head, but didn't say anything, so I growled furiously again, grabbing the notebook from the counter.

“I…Love…You. That's it, you still don't understand?” I said furiously, tearing off the paper and angrily putting it on her chest. “Taci, Angie or I'll deactivate you!”

“Hey… Come on… calm down…”(Y/N) said, putting a hand on my trembling shoulder, turning me around slowly. “Calm down…”

Her soft voice relaxed me, but the tears were already traveling freely down my horrible face.

“Shh…” you whispered in a tender voice, taking my hands again while I, desperate, shook my head.

“I-I'm in love with you, (Y/N)… Ti amo…” I whispered more timidly, coming back to my senses little by little, dying of embarrassment for my nervous outburst.

“Yes, I've already realized,” she said amused, bringing one of her hands to my intact cheek, wiping away one of my tears. “Donna… Listen to me… I… I feel the same way about you…”

“What?” I asked nervously, startling myself.

“The truth is that I didn't expect to fall in love with a Lord but… Well, I guess life has brought us together for a reason, don't you think? And I'm not just saying that just because... Well, you know," she said in a pleasant voice, pointing at her scar.

“You... You have feelings for me...” I said, not knowing if it was a question or a statement.

(Y/N), still caressing me, nodded.

“Please! I'm going to get diabetes!” Angie shrieked, breaking the magic of the moment. “Yuck...”

“Angie...” I lamented, just when I was starting to enjoy that moment.

“It doesn't matter, Donna...” she said, amused, still looking at me, still piercing my heart with her gaze. “You can tell she’s happy...”

“Well...” I said, laughing nervously.

“Hey... I thought about closing the store for today,” (Y/N) said, moving away. “Maybe you'd like to do something together...”

“Vu-Vuoli... Vuoli...fare qualcosa... in-insieme?” I stammered awkwardly, not keeping control of my own language.

“If you told me what I think… Yes,” she joked playfully. “Let’s do something together…”

“Oh, okay, I… Io… We can, go… You can… You can… You can come to my house if you want… I, you… you liked sewing, right?” I said nervously.

She nodded with a funny look.

“I can, I can show you my workshop, and… I can, I can… We can sew together… se… se hai voglia… E… And, I can, I can show you my bam… My dolls, and… I can, I can make one like you if you want, and we can, we can…”

“Donna,” she said, interrupting my pathetic attempt at conversation, relaxing my nerves with a soft caress, one to which I also joined my hand. “I would love to go to your house…”

“Really?” I asked, nodding, with a sincere smile, far from my usual nervous look. “Would you like to?”

“Yes…” she sighed, getting dangerously close to me. “But first, I'd like to do something…”

“Oh, okay, wh…?” I said nervously, interrupted by her lips, which kissed mine, caressed them in a tender way, in a way I never expected to feel. I don't know what her first kiss had been, but mine… I would never forget mine.

“Much better, don't you think?” she sighed still on my lips, letting the rhythm increase on its own, so I could kiss her without fear.

“Ugh, they’re kissing!” Angie protested.

We both smiled, resting our foreheads on each other.

“Come on, honey… I'm looking forward to see your dolls…”

[ms-demeanor]

hello! sorry to bother w this but im sort of desperate at this point. given your post about school abuse: so like. i had a similar experience and i thought that i had sorted my brain out. BUT. big but. now im trans and every time i have to correct people w/ misgender or come out to people that i dont already know their opinion on the issue, i get an anxiety attack that makes me unable to do it. ive told many therapists and no one so far has understood why im terrified of making stuff that other people can perceive as me being difficult to work with. would you have *any* advice? thanks!

Okay so first of all it is totally valid to feel that way; that isn't an irrational response, that is your body and brain going "!!!! I have learned this lesson before!" But just because it's a sensible response doesn't mean it's functional in the long term, which is why it needs to be addressed (which I'm sure you already know, I'm just explaining for people in the back).

So now here is some meandering advice:

Spend time with people you already know you can trust. It's okay to take a break from new people and situations (as much as is possible) when you are processing traumatic events and learning to care for yourself. Spending time with people who you don't have to come out to, who don't misgender you, can help you normalize being out and correctly gendered to yourself.

Recognize that you don't have to be out to everyone and some assholes aren't worth it. This is going to depend some on the context, but you don't owe everybody an explanation for yourself and if people repeatedly misgender you after being corrected you may just be better off not spending time around those people.

Loop in trusted people in low-stakes ways. If you get the sense that someone who you think is pretty safe has misgendered you on accident, it might still feel too intimidating to correct them in person but it might be a good idea to follow up with text or a call or a message to say "hey, just FYI, I think I heard you use a/b pronouns for me earlier, I just wanted to let you know that I use c/d pronouns. Did you want to meet up again next week?" the breakdown on why I think this is effective is - Distance means you're safe - nonthreatening "FYI" means you aren't saying "I'm offended" and assumes good faith from the other person - feels less accusatory (not that you need to tone police yourself, but if you're trying to lower the stress level overall then assuming it was a mistake and letting them know you don't think it was on purpose should reduce the overall tension) - request to meet up again or topic switch to something lighter once again says "I'm not mad, that was just regular information, we can now return to our scheduled programming"

I think that, generally speaking, this is also a decent way to come out to people if you're nervous; physically remote and emotionally casual can be a good place to work from (even if you're actually panicking in your head but you can pull off casual in a written message)

Find (or create) a space where people are 100% going to support you. If you need to create a discord server, if you need to schedule a regular coffee date with trusted friends or family members, whatever it is, give yourself a space where you are unconditionally supported and can have people to bounce ideas and concerns off of. Even if it's just you and one other person, it's good to know you have *someone* who you can say "I think I want to tell this other person to use my pronouns but it's scary" to and know that you're not at risk in any way. I'd say try to make sure that you're still interacting with people outside of that space, but have a space to retreat to where you can just drop the worry.

Recognize that somebody else's problem is not a reflection of you. If you have, for instance, a coworker who is being a piece of shit and refusing to recognize your gender, that is not a reflection of your gender that is a reflection of them being a piece of shit. If there is a classmate or a sibling who uses the wrong pronouns after being corrected that doesn't mean you're not entitled to your pronouns that means they are being a piece of shit. Some people are just not going to accept you and that's on them. Try to minimize your time spent with them and if you have to spend time with them at work take steps to ensure your safety, but don't fight losing battles with assholes.

It really is legitimately scary. You have good reasons to be scared and you are doing a very frightening thing (and not to do the meme thing but you are legitimately being so brave about it; the fact that you are reaching out and asking anyone for help, including randos on the internet, means that you are taking steps to doing the scary thing and that is SO GOOD and I'm really proud of you for making the effort in spite of the fear).

Here is some less meandering advice:

Practice. Talk to yourself in the mirror, practice with friends, practice with your therapist. Practice coming out to yourself in a casual way. Practice correcting your pronouns. Practice an introduction for yourself that explains the information you want to give to new people you might meet. Get it down to a quick little patter, get it to be something that's easy to say to yourself in the mirror first, then try it with friends for practice, then try it around the safer people you might want to give the information to. It'll get easier as you go.

Look for a local support group (or an online support group). If there's a local LGBTQ+ center you should see if they've got events going on or a support group you can join or workshops or any manner of social thing where you can go interact with people who have been through similar stuff.

Journal. Each time you find yourself frightened of talking to someone about your gender, do what you need to to get through the day and then sit down and think about that interaction. Write down what happened, write down what you were thinking. Was there something in particular that made you anxious? Is it something you can practice addressing? Was there something you noticed about the person that made you uncomfortable? Is that a common thread in the times you have trouble talking about this? If you're able to narrow down specifically what is making it hard to speak to some people that might make it easier to explain to therapists but will also make it more actionable for you.

Here's some very optimistic advice:

If at all possible find a friend who will be rabid and unflinching in their support for you and hang out with them around new people. Get yourself an attack dog copilot who will cheerfully step up and make corrections for you. I know not everyone can do this and I know that if you can find someone like this they can't be around all the time, but it can be wonderfully reassuring to find that one person who you know is going to be ride or die about making sure that everyone in the room respects you. (Being that person for someone else can also teach you how to be that person for you)

[dangopango00]

ABYSS RAZOR CRUSH HCS BC IF I DONT GET SOME CONTENT I WILL DIE

Abyss Razor x gn reader

Prompt: yall r madly in love he has a crush on youuu (boyfail situationship hcs more like tbh)

A/N: sorry if this is rambly i cant live like this i keep rereading the same 4 or 5 posts over and over again ive been waiting for like a year and im getting teased with the tip PLEASEEE WRITE HIM 😭😭🤞 i cant ever escape the ‘nobodys fave but mine’ curse help

Ily losermen

Ily high ponytail men

Ily abyss razor

more utc

- Im gonna jump he is so kewt. Idek what to say im just ill

- You’d probably often compliment his eyes and you have this image that hes so calm and collected— which he is! But! Not with you! So every conversation with you is him just fighting for his life trying to look cool and not implode at the same time

- ^^^ THIS is one thing. But what really gets him falling for you is when you get a bit closer and have a talk with him, telling him in no uncertain terms that he’ll always have someone to return to if others are cruel because you won’t be leaving him

- Gives you things VERY often, usually little things because hed die if he had to directly give you a gift and then have to explain why, so he shows his affection in little ways like letting you have his best pencils and pens if you need it (lets you keep it too)

- oh he absolutely loses it if he sees you continue to use his pen hes so touched that you’re taking good care of what he gives you it shows that it means a lot to you and that he means a lot to you

- The only actual gift he gives you during this stage are things he has an excuse for like origami (idk why but i feel like he makes cool ass origami) he can just say he made too many so hes giving them away yet you and maybe Abel are the only ones who received some…

- He wants so badly to be useful to you he gets so flustered and happy just hearing you say thanks when he answers your question about the assignment or when he lends you his materials

- Immediately stiffens when you make any sort of contact. Dont stop though, he can count the times hes been hugged on one hand

- Speaking of his touch starvation, he’d let you play with his hair and looks forward to it tbh he’d just rather not initiate anything it’s too much for his heart

- If you have him take down his hair and play with it (like braid it or try different hairstyles) he’d feel so content; ofc he’s nervous but at the same time he just feels so at peace as if it’s only you two in the world and all the people who have ever wronged him never existed in the first place

- He’s a little bit delulu, i fear

- He gets so nervous texting and calling you bc what if you tell him ily. No that could never happen. Wait but what if it did— do you see his dilemma?

- He’s a chronic overthinker and in a way its a bit sweet because he used to worry about you randomly saying you didn’t want to be friends with him but now he wouldn’t even consider that possibility; it just no longer enters his mind

- He’d also find himself drifting off, losing himself in thought and end up daydreaming about if you two were in a relationship

- It’s very innocent, it’s just you two being cute and going places together while holding hands and such until it drifts even further to imagining you two kissing

- His face is on fire and he has to stop thinking NOW but hes in too deep hes imagining kissing ice cream off the side of your mouth and other cliches like that it’s so over

- Abel wondering wth is wrong with his right hand; all he said was that he was going to make mother happy by doing his homework today meanwhile Abyss can no longer be normal

- The kissing is just his guilty pleasure but Abyss constantly imagines holding hands with you like if you walk too close to him his hands will get clammy and his fingertips will get cold because he wants to hold your hand but is scared to initiate it

- God forbid you actually hold his hand even for a second while he’s having his entire internal monologue. He will die. You killed him. How could you?

- He won’t let go though like. Ever . Handholding is his favorite thing 5ever and as soon as he gets a taste he’s hooked

- He likes handholding so much that if you held his hand enough times then one time he’d accidentally grab your hand and initiate for once (immediately gets flustered after but it counts)

- Really really REALLY likes when u trace over his magic lines. Ruins his life everytime and he just melts in your touch; subconsciously leans in and his face softens and EVERYTHING

- Ok i wasn’t gonna say it bc itd probably involve sm sneaking but: Sleepovers. IM JUST SAYING 🤞🤞🤞 I feel like this is where most of the softer moments happen tbh like your roommate being out and you two have a sleepover

- I think this is where the playing with his hair and tracing the lines on his face would happen if not this then when you’re bored in class

- Not a fan of PDA even if ur not dating so he does play with your hair but usually during the sleepovers if you’ll allow him (not quite trying new hairstyles like you do but letting it fall through his fingers, running his hands through it or just rubbing the ends with his fingers to feel how soft it is)

- If you are bald he would slightly hold the back of your head and rub your temples with his thumb to help you relax

- Idk ik i just went on about how hes a loser but I feel like when it comes to affection relating to hair or like anything not affectionate in a cliche sense he doesn’t really pay attention and does it without thinking; only realizes its too affectionate if you point it out (please do not, he feels very comfortable right now. He will stop and never do it again if you point it out)

- You have a lot of deep talks and give him encouraging words during sleepovers tbh it just gives you both time to just… enjoy each other uninterrupted

- Sometimes instinctually distances himself from you because you make his heart do somersaults and his head feels like it’ll explode around you though he doesn’t last long, he needs you with him everyday atp 😭

- Although the above is true, sometimes he gets clingy ish (just by your side all the time) and protective over you even knowing you aren’t his

A/N: a ridonkulous amount of these r based on things ive done erm. Ok. Ig next thing i should write is him with an equally loser gf i def fit the bill LOL

[xmalereader]

Moonknight x Shifter! Male Reader

☆— MASTERLIST — ☆

Requested: can i request a fic that's more of a headcannons post than a fic? i really love the way you write the moon knight boys and was wondering how'd they react to a protective shifter!reader who's usually quite calm and reserved(maybe a wolf just for the irony of wolves being sorta synonymous with the moon)? maybe in a world where shifters are starting to be accepted but some people are still jerks. kind of a "three times reader protected the boys and the time they returned the favor" sorta thing. if all three is too much though i totally understand, im okay with just one, your pick. whatever your schedule allows for ❤️ sorry if this is hard to understand it's a fever at 4am kinda night but i couldn't pass up the chance to make a request lul love your writing! hope you're doing well! i wish you good writing thoughts and dexterous typing times 🫡

CONTENT/WARNINGS: Fluff, slight angst, request, Steven is a sweetheart and Jake is scary while Marc is trying, short, headcannons, reader is a shifter, werewolves, society differences.

WC: 1.5k

TAGS: @luci-the-brat-boy

NOTES: I apologize for the long wait on making this request I’ve been busy on my end but I’ve finally got the time to get these completed! Thank you for enjoying my moonknight shots, writing these characters can be a bit tricky since they all have different personalities but I was able to make it work! I did make a few changes so hopefully it’s still good!

Shifters were still new to society and not many have grown used to them due to the fear of getting hurt one day if they were to shift in front of them and perhaps hurt them or kill them. Each shifter was different and due to their existence, laws were established in order to keep a balance between shifters and none shifters, but the laws didn’t really stop the hate that some people carried for them.

Steven Grant:

Steven didn’t think he’d end up dating a shifter, let alone one who shifts into a wolf the size of a car. He was shy at first since he was new to the whole shifting when it came towards his partner.

After a few dates Y/n grew comfortable in showing Steven his new form, taking things slow with the man since he was always so nervous around him until months of dating he’s grown used to him. Steven had also told Y/n about his DID and about Marc and Jake, giving him very little information about them expecting his partner to pry for more information only to reassure him that he doesn’t have to force himself.

After their confession they continued on with their dating life like normal. Until Y/n started to notice the way that Steven is treated at the museum, each time he paid him a visit he noticed how rude his manager was being to him, making him growl in anger by how to orders Steven around and makes him do the extra work while she sits back and does nothing.

Y/n knew how much Steven loved his job, but there were times that he couldn’t help but interfere with the situation.

It didn’t take long for him to track down Steven's mangers and corner them in an empty hallway, whispering them threats on treating their employees with respect and to not treat them as slaves, frightening the poor women.

“Treat them like slaves again and I’ll hunt you down on the next full moon.”

Lets just say that Steven stopped receiving bad treatment after that which only left him a bit confused and oblivious to the matter.

Y/n was always protective of Steven due to his innocence and oblivious state at times. Every time someone looked at him wrong or stopped his ancient Egypt mid rant he’d slowly turn to the person to give them the stink eyes as if saying, “how dare you stop him from talking about what he loves?!”

He had scary dog privileges…literally.

The first time that Steven actually lost it was when one of their neighbors caught Y/n coming back home from a full moon with Steven next to him. His wolf form looking a little smaller as he padded next to him quietly and tried to regain his thoughts after last nights events only for their snotty neighbor to step out into the hall and scold Steven for keeping a “mutt” around.

Y/n was close to turning around and snapping his jaws at the neighbor in order to scare them only for Steven to step in between them while glaring at the man angrily. Steven was already tired from chasing after his partner through the streets and making sure he wasn’t causing any trouble all night and his neighbors comment was his last straw.

The shifter had never seen Steven so upset, using every cuss word he knows to call the neighbor out, pointing a finger at him and jabbing them in the chest. It caught both shifter and neighbor by surprise until Steven finally cooled down and opens their door to allow them inside.

Once inside Steven slams the door behind him and leans his back against it with his face buried in his hands. Y/n had approached Steven slowly, still a small wolf and whining softly to get the man’s attention only for Steven to drop his hands and look at his partner in horror.

“Did I just do that? Oh god I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

Steven had never blown up like that before that even he was surprised by his outburst that night.

Marc Spector:

Marc wanted to scold Leon for picking a shifter as a boyfriend. Marc didn’t hate shifters he just didn’t know much about them to actually trust them yet, so when he finds out that Steven got himself a shifter of a boyfriend he couldn’t help but be a bit cautious around him.

Y/n didn’t spend much time around Marc since the man refused to be around him when it was his turn to take over the body. The shifter wanted to ignore him and let him do as he wanted, only to end up following Marc secretly whenever he went out.

The two didn’t get along quiet yet, but Y/n is still overprotective of the two of them. Yes, they share the same body but he can’t help but feel like he needs to be there to protect them both.

Only Marc doesn’t need protection he knows how to take care of himself and stick up for others, so the first few times he caught Marc being defensive or fighting back he couldn’t help but find the man quiet attractive.

Marc was perhaps the one who could actually make him blush whenever they spent time together back in Steven’s flat. Even when Marc returned back home stressed and upset, Y/n already knew how to help the man distress by shifting into his wolf form and lying on his back across Marc’s lap and letting the man scratch his belly or bury his face into his warm fur while groaning in frustration as if someone would do to a pillow. Y/n enjoyed cuddling with Marc during his full moons when he’s stuck in his wolf form for long hours of the night.

Y/n was in the cities office when he was first called out for being a shifter while renewing his passport due to Marc wanting to take them on a trip. A few strangers were waiting around for their turn and due to Y/n being a shifter he was first priority since he went through a longer process in getting a renewal which pissed off a lot of people.

Only for Marc to shout at them to shut up and reminding them the laws between humans and shifters and how not everything is fair between them, giving them a deadly glare that made them back off.

Y/n can’t help but crack a small smile when hearing Marc’s words as he focused on his passport renewal.

Jake Lockely:

It was harder for Y/n to get along with Jake since he acted like the silent but deadly brother between the three. He found Jake intimidating that he was perhaps the first person to actually make him tuck his tail between his legs.

Jake didn’t need protection and Y/n knew that since he’s seen the man beat another human to near death until he stopped him from going to far. Y/n didn’t know about Jake until one night when he noticed a change of smell in Steven and Marc’s scent, realizing that they weren’t the only ones.

Jake was suppose to be a secret, hiding in the shadows as he watched over Marc and Steven. Only the cab driver didn’t really need to protect them since they had a shifter by their side, but that didn’t mean Jake couldn’t keep an eye on him too.

Their first night together was awkward for them since Jake rarely spoke and Y/n was too afraid to ask him questions without getting the man angry. It didn’t take long for Jake to notice this that he finally decides to speak up, asking questions that’ll get him closer to the shifter.

They only spent time together during late nights when Steven and Marc are sleeping and Jake is able to take full control. Giving Y/n a chance to join him on his nightly trips and sitting next to him on the passenger seat while talking.

It didn’t take long for Jake to warm up to the shifter, not realizing that Jake had added him to his list of people to protect. Even though Y/n can shift into a large wolf, big enough to kill anyone on sight, Jake still decided to take the roll of taking care of the shifter too.

Y/n first witnessed Jake defending him when he was helping a man into the cab from a club, drunk off his ass while the shifter gets him inside the back seat. What he didn’t realize was the group of men lurking around the club, clearly drunk as they whistled at him, trying to get his attention which he ignored.

That was until one of them had the balls to slap his ass filling him with shock and ready to strike the man down, but when turning around Jake was already doing that for him.

Jake was filled with rage as he slams his fist into the man’s face over and over again. The others tried to pry Jake off, but he was faster than them, kicking their asses and forcing them on their knees and apologizing to the shifter.

Y/n could only stare at Jake with wide eyes as the men whimpered out their apologizes to him.

[doylldonmagar]

So I saw @hermesmyplatonicbeloved 's post and had some thoughts. I agree and disagree. I am a percabeth fan but I also know that some of it is screwy, and if you are familiar with my blog, you know this. I think RR screwed up and wrote out a LOT of trauma, I think he really should have dealt with that better. I think it's not good that he wrote trauma and mental issues and abuse into the foundation of many characters and then has ignored it when it became convenient for the plot.

I would love to see specific quotes and books for these because some of them I have no memory of and would like to revisit them.

I'm gonna talk my way through all of this so I'm gonna text break here

The first point is Percy scaring her to tears. I can only imagine in Tartarus? Like when they're both in their worst state? I don't know. I agree they should have talked about it, but I think they should have talked about all of HoH, which brings me back to saying: Rick really failed at dealing with trauma and processing and long term effects. Honestly, being scared *of* him, yeah I agree that's bad, but is that the situation? If she's scared by his power, then I'm not sure of where I stand on this, I don't know anyone with demigod powers, but I don't think I'd be scared simply because I know someone is capable of hurting me. Plenty of people are capable of hurting me. Like I don't know, what situation is this?

"Percy has been suicidal the whole time annabeth has known him, in BoO Percy attempts suicide and annabeth said nothing, noticed nothing" I'd really like a page or quote because i remember him being suicidal but never attempting. (Im rereading what i wrote, is this maybe referring to percy deciding it would be better if he drowned when hes with Jason? If so, I thought the book said annabeth wasn't told that he wanted to give up) But really my bigger issue with this statement is the fact that it's not necessarily a bad relationship just because a person doesn't realize someone is suicidal, or if their suicidal thoughts are fluctuating. If he's been suicidal the entire time she's known him, how should she know? And why is it the girlfriend's job to stop him from suicide? Like yeah she should care, but that's not her responsibility. No one should feel responsible for a significant other's suicide unless they encouraged the SO to do it.

The judo flip, I agree, annabeth should have been more sensitive to Percy's past and again, I blame Rick for conveniently forgetting that an abused kid is not going to laugh or even take well to being thrown on the ground. This also reminds me of a post I made a while back, because I was so frustrated by media portrayals of women getting upset (usually worried) about another character and shaking them or hitting them or using some form of violence, and that's portrayed as acceptable and normal and as a sign of love. I'm not a fan of that.

"Annabeth likes to keep percy on his toes" this point, I want specific quotes, cause I'd like to go over it again. I agree this is funky. Percy says he feels more comfortable with annabeth and feels like he can talk to her blah blah, but yeah, I think I remember him saying she makes him anxious and that's a problem for me. Like genuinely, to anyone who reads this: if your SO makes you feel uncomfortable, anxious, nervous, or unsafe, please reevaluate your relationship and be safe. That's not good. And back to percabeth, I'm really not sure why RR would say that.

Bringing up abusive stepfather. If annabeth didn't already know about Gabe...I don't know, that says to me that percy was too traumatized to talk about it, in which case, why can annabeth see it in his actions, his comments, his reactions? I don't know that either. But I do know that having met my fair share of traumatized kids, it's not at all uncommon for them to share trauma as a joke and for multiple kids to laugh it off, not to mention suicidal jokes or jokes about their own abuse. Now I want to be clear, I'm not saying that's healthy, I think that's bad, but I also think it's common. And if annabeth doesn't realize what he's really talking about, or is caught up in her own experience, or is uncomfortable, laughing is not an uncommon response. And I don't think that makes their relationship toxic. (And I'm saying it again: I think Rick wrote that so that people could say oh poor percy and feel strongly about how horrible the situation is, but he didn't want to get into the trauma, so by annabeth laughing it off, he can move on with the scene but include little details that show how bad tartarus is)

I don't remember any comments about poseiden, but I agree her interactions with Tyson are problematic. I have zero explanation or excuse, I really don't know what rick was thinking with that, unless it was maybe a way to signify how all halfbloods feel about monsters? (Now that I've said that, that kinda makes sense, if percy sees a monster who was his human friend, but everyone else just sees a monster who is just like the other monsters who have killed their siblings. But still. Annabeth saying he was gross was uncalled for, Rick could have said she was scared or concerned this was a trick or something, but disgust?)

I agree about Percy's unresolved trauma manifesting as fear of annabeth. I already commented on the judo flip, see comments above.

Percy absolutely has horrible self asteem. I'm not sure that's annabeths problem. Yeah she should support him in every way she can, but it's not her responsibility or anyone else's to make him feel better about himself. She should want to, and she should be positive and encouraging, but I don't think Percy's lack of growth is her problem or necessarily a sign of a toxic relationship. It can be, but I'm not certain it is in this case. I think, as I'm sure you know if you've read this much, Rick doesn't know how to write characters who are further along in their trauma- processing, healing, discussing- rick fails to deal with anything besides a currently traumatized kid and a unresolved but out of the directly abusive situation. (This is where I'd like to note, the whole seaweed brain thing, not funny to me, not cute. I'm not a fan because I do think that encourages negative self image. I am aware that that could be link to annabeths childhood, but again, I would expect her to be hyperaware of this sort of emotional abuse. And I blame Rick. Why does she never have her actual abuse mentioned?)

I don't recall annabeth pushing percy to choose between them. I would have said she had doubts about him still wanting to go to CA and he said that he regretted not being there for Estelle but didn't want to be without annabeth (which is kinda cute, kinda codependent to me, and I agree, codependency is not cute)

I would argue the last point "Percy has no interest in going to New Rome or University" is clearly false. In SoN (2nd book of HOO) Percy discovers there are full families living in New Rome, and how it's safe there, and he says multiple times that he wants that, how he remembers he had a girlfriend named annabeth and he wants her to be there and wants to be able to settle down *there*. And in ChaliceotG he's torn, because he does want to stay in New York for his mom and sister, but he really wants to be with annabeth and he loves new Rome. He says multiple times how he wants to go to New Rome. Its true, if the only reason he wants to go is for annabeth, that's a bit funky. But new Rome is the safest place for demigods, and he's been in wars for years, of course he wants that. And wanting to be out of school- okay? New Rome isn't just about the university, not to mention the New Rome university is focused on kids with dyslexia and adhd, obviously. So it will be tailored to him, his struggles are understood, accepted, and aided. Who wouldn't see the appeal in that?

And finally, I agree, that if a character or couple is going to have broad reach, they should be healthy. That's a problem i have with Colleen hoover and all her toxic relationships that have a large audience and are so loved by that audience. And back to this, I hate that the pjo hoo couples are so focused on in the books because fans always pay attention to the couples, but the focus amplifies them, and I think having a relationship be the main focus of a kids/teen/ya book sets up horrible mindsets, and idolizes relationships and all in all is not good for kids. Percabeth or not, healthy or not, I don't think the emphasis on relationships is good.

I might link some of my other posts that I mentioned or that address similar issues in the reblogs

[noangeleither]

"fixing" the panic attack scene to be more platonic ™

im extremely active on twt and have been noticing a sydcarmy tweet go viral multiple times a week (like w thousands of interactions its crazy), and its really great to see how much people love and see it for this ship. recently carmys panic attack scene went viral again, and naturally, some ppl gave their piece about how we are all dumb for interpreting it as romantic. that sydney represents his love for his job or his duty to the restaurant (*sigh*).

this scene imo, is the most concrete proof of this ship. i can excuse (not really) interpreting every interaction between them thus far as platonic but this scene....i just refuse. this is gonna be a long post, not analyzing the scene per se because i can't possibly say anything that hasn't already been said but more "fixing" the scene to fit the narrative of antis, and i hope in doing so really shows there's no other way to interpret this scene as other than romantic. again its gonna be a long post bc im just ranting and i think i will lose my mind if i dont type this out.

lets go.

so first off i like to think of this scene as an equation/experiment. simply a problem that needs to be solved.

problem/reason of panic = ...we will discuss this...

solution # 1 = claire -> failed

solution # 2 = sydney -> worked.

Problem/Reason

s02e09 opens up with carmy and claire finally consummating their relationship, with an interesting song choice might i add and carmy dissociating, looking sad, or broken (???) after. because many have said carmy pulling memories of sydney from his psyche to calm down have to do with work i always remember that, it really doesnt make any sense?

carmy is clearly having a panic attack due to him not being "fixed" as soon as he made it official with claire. he felt pressure from his family both currently and in the past to date claire because she is amazing and perfect. add mikey also being a part of that crowd, and carmy so desperately trying to connect with him when he cannot, is why i think he looks so despondent after that scene. i truly think he thought he would be a changed person after everything with claire and when that didn't happen he flipped...

we know this is the reason bc his panic attack starts with their sex scene and the lyric "I dont know" from strange currencies by REM.

this isn't to say that he isn't nervous or stressed about the soft open but its clear that he's not having a panic attack about work nor have we ever seen him have a work-related panic attack (correct me if I'm wrong). in s1 he has one or two due to him greiving his brother.

platonic fix: To make it about work I would have added scenes like when Carmy started that stove fire in braciole, his meltdown in review, some scenes of his horrible time at EMP, and him grieving his brother. i think these would represent his fear of failure, falling back into old toxic habits pertaining his career, the fear of fostering a toxic work environment like the ny chef and also the idea of "failing" mikey

but theres a reason why none of this occurs bc its not about his job or the opening of the bear. this is explicitly about his personal and romantic love life.

Solution # 1 : Claire

carmy proceeds to try and calm down by thinking of claire through literal rose-coloured glasses...

the music is distorted, he's thinking of his abusive family, he remembers every one pushing him to date claire bc shes a #goodthing.

again...this is not about his job and wouldnt make sense to think of sydneys place in his work life as a soultion to his clear personal problem....

platonic fix: in the story of carmys love life claire and sydney act as narrative foils. they have been compared and contrasted for all of s2. my platonic fix for this would be making the NY chef this first "solution" of a work-related panic attack. he represents a horrible time in his life but also represents a time when carmy was at the height of his career. when carmy gets locked in the walk in and has his monologue, its alluded to that he will revert back to that mind set in order to not let everyone down.

NY chef abused him for so long, it makes sense that carmys psyche would readily go back to his insults and the time he himself was an isolated 'psycho' bc it yielded results.

nothing is black and white and i DO think sydney represents a healthier approach to the toxic mess that is the culinary world and does represent that for carmy. if the show was invested in that, sydney and the NY chef could be overtly contrasted like sydney and claire have been.

BUT again this isnt about his job and dedication as a chef...thus why he tries to think of claire to solve his personal problem, and it fails.

Solution # 2: Sydney

LMFAOOO.

carmy then in a crazy plot twist starts thinking of his platonic work bestie sydney adamu....the love song dedicated by the show to his relationship with his girlfriend is then made clear highlighting some pretty damning lyrics about desire and love.....all platonic btw. yes you are dumb if you think otherwise (*wink*)

I actually have two platonic fixes for this...

platonic fix # 1: if we only wanted to focus on sydney as a person who calms carmy down because shes his work bestie who represents his responsibilty to the bear and the postive change they are trying effect in the culinary world, i would add scenes where they are...you know actually cooking???

i think its pretty crazy how the memories carmys immediately jump to are ones that have little to do with their jobs. when they first meet (would also like to note that when carmy first laid eyes on Sydney, he forgot she was there for a job, so this is his raw reaction to seeing a pretty girl lol) and when she comes back after she quit and their break up fight.

i would add their scenes in carmys kitchen (even tho this is extremely damning bc they were flirting DOWN - they don't make this easy at all). this represents their collaboration skills and the way they WORK and bounce ideas off of each other seamlessly. specifically the scene about him wanting to give her a star, representing his duty to her and the restaurant.

*and no shade to carmy but if his responsibility to the bear/syd as a co-worker was bothering him this much and calmed him down wouldn't he have just immediately called the fridge guy.....anyways*

platonic fix # 2 (the best one): if i was chris storer and joanna calo and i REALLY wanted to sell it that carmy isnt in love with sydney then i would put every single member of the OG beef crew + Nat to calm him down not just Sydney.

im talking to them laughing at family, carmy giving tina his chefs knife, richie in his new suit, carmys one on one w Marcus/trying his donut, nat telling carmy shes pregnant (signifing rebirth/wanting to rid all the toxic abuse from his family), carmy trying sydney risotto, and her face when he said it was tremendous etc etc...you get the gist

and honestly?

even as i type this out im tearing up a little bit bc that would have been really beautiful. carmy is changing. he can and is getting rid of old toxic habits from his family and the mess that is the culinary industry. things are changing for the better....that would be beautiful....IF his panic attack was about any of these things lol.

and to even look at this scene without this need for symmetry and we entertain the idea of carmy thinking about his job as a solution for his personal problem...carmy has said himself (s02e01) that this isnt fun for him. i dont think that means he hates cooking i kinda disagree with the ppl who think he isnt passionate about it. i just think currently its something that doesnt bring him joy but i do think its something hes starting to or at least could have started to enjoy if he just committed to working with syd...

conclusion

theres a lot of....delusion? denial? straight up bias? yes all of that, going on.

idk what is happening bc this show is really great at being subtle. but i dont know whats more in your face, dumbed down, even a toddler could understand, than this scene. if you dont come out of this understanding that carmy is falling in love/currently in love with Sydney...and i hate using this term..but you just arent media literate.

bonus: bc it makes me laugh and connects the purpose and solutions.

i think we need a Snyder Sydcarmy Cut™ of bolognese and omelette.

the start of the episode is when sydney and carmy fight over claires inclusion in the menu, and also when sydney randomly asks him to define his relationship with Claire. the episode would continue until we get to the table scene.

i think its WILD how as soon as Sydney asks him to define their relationship, carmy starts calling claire his girlfriend. then the show proceeds to insert sydney in their romantic montage, shows her tattoo about heartbreak and someone getting in the way of your relationship...THEN proceeds to have carmy compare these two women in his mind and only calms down after seeing Sydney.

i could talk about this scene for AGES. wheres the straitjacket....

[thedivineflowers]

Imagine being the 9th member of Stray Kids and the youngest because you’re in middle school.

But you get told that you're too loud and clingy so you close yourself away

A warning of angst and like self doubt tell me if I need to add more!

Fans would expect you to be so full of energy and talkative and clingy because you’re a kid, maybe you’re just a quiet kid?

But no, the only reason you don’t talk a lot unless asked questions is because you’ve been told by many people in your personal life that you were just loud and to ‘tone yourself down’. You’ve been told that your clinginess was annoying by those same people. You wanted to leave a good impression on your bandmates, so you’d stay quiet and tried staying independent and not cling to them even when you were nervous or scared.

You got scared that if you became ‘loud’ and ‘clingy’ with them like the people in your personal life they’d be bothered by it. But they weren’t, one day in an interview with just you the interviewer asked about your quietness and distance with the members.

“I got told a lot by people that I was loud and was really clingy and that it was annoying how I wanted to hold hands with someone or hug them for no reason all the time just because I wanted to.” You answered and laughed at yourself a bit. “So then I thought, ‘I really am annoying’ and I’m gonna be in a band with people that are older than me so I wanted to leave a good impression and not seem annoying to them or bother them because of how talkative and clingy I was.” You breathed out and looked down at your lap. “And it’s hard at times because I get really lonely sometimes because im trying to be independent and I don’t really want to bother any of them just because I wanted someone to talk to or cuddle with y’know? They’re the only people I have besides my family and I just struggle with showing them without thinking I’m going overboard.” You sighed after getting a bit off your chest.

The interviewer was baffled because they're so fond of you and talk so much about you that you could never annoy them but moved on, but you missed one detail.

It was going to get to one of the members.

You walked back into the dorm and sighed after the long day and walked to your room to change into a pair of shorts that were just cut sweatpants and a random shirt before going on your phone when you started seeing edits of your recent interview. Your stomach dropped, the members were going to hear about it!

You heard the click of a door and multiple footsteps shuffle in with the sound of bags land on the kitchen counter when Chan shouted "Y/n, are you home?" He asked as you answered back with a yes and walked out your room to greet them.

They had come back from feeding some ducks that were at a pond nearby and they brought dinner back with them. "I heard that you're interview from a few days ago got posted, do you want me to put it on?" Felix asked and looked back at you as he was standing Infront of the TV with the remote in his hand while you were facing away at the counter.

You paused the slightest bit before shrugging. "Whatever you want is fine." You answered in the same quiet tone that you always have around them. Lee Know kept his eyes on you for a bit before going to grab plates.

"Put it on! Y/n looked so cute that time." Han decided as he pinched your cheek.

You sat down on the couch with the others but made sure to keep yourself at the end and quietly ate while the others laughed at the jokes made during the interview.

Then the part where you kind of trailed off was coming up and you abruptly stood up. "I'm full. Thanks for the food." You said quietly "But you just started eating. Do you want to save it for later if you get hungry?" Changbin asked as some of them turned their attention to you while the others kept their eyes on the screen.

"I'll put it in the fridge to heat up later." You answered before walking away as you heard the interviewer ask "So Y/n, it's not hard to notice that you're distant with the members despite knowing them since before debut, is there a reason for that?"

'Just run to your room before they notice.' You thought as you heard your voice finishing up where you trailed off and the interviewer stuttering a bit before asking the next question.

Just run before they ask and they'll eventually forget to ask.

But there was no where to run when Chan and Lee know were blocking your only exit from the kitchen. "Come sit on the couch with us." Chan said as he gently placed a hand on your back and guided you to the couch where the others sat with the video played back and paused on the previous question the interviewer asked.

You were sat between Felix and Seungmin as Felix swung an arm around your shoulder and had you lay your head on his chest while Seungmin wrapped his arms around your torso and rested his head on your shoulder.

Han and Jeongin laid their heads against your legs while the others stood Infront of you.

"Okay, we've been wanting to make a few things clear for a while now regarding you." Chan started as he stood Infront of you with the others.

"You're not in trouble or anything." Lee Know added

"Just know that just because others consider you clingy doesn't mean that we do, and we don't care if you're talkative too. It doesn't even matter if you're a kid or not, you are a member of this band and we want you to be comfortable and not silence yourself because of what some people said." Hyunjin reassured you as you fiddled with your fingers.

"But you'll get annoyed with me like everyone el-" "But we aren't everyone else." Felix cut you off and moved his hand to stroke your hair "We are your family here.” He whispered

“You’re not lonely here, it’s okay to depend on one of us once in a while.” Jeongin spoke up as he looked up at you with a small smile. “You’re still young and you’re you, who cares about what those people said anyway.” Seungmin huffed before squeezing your cheek. “Go grab your food and sit at the table. We’re gonna get to know you, okay?” Han asked as you sat still for a bit before running to the kitchen to grab your food and sit at the table with everyone else as they asked you various things and went over memories.

Over time you were able to come out of your shell with them and fell into open arms as they returned your hugs and listened to you whenever you felt like saying anything even if it was about you whispering that you wanted to throw your skzoo character at the camera during a vlive.

Chan would often invite you when he did his Chans room episodes and they’d mostly end up with you two having your skzoo characters box each other and the loser would have to eat spicy noodles.

Lee know would call you the name of one of this three cats based on what color your hair was dyed and if didn’t match any of his cats he’d call you by the name of your skzoo character. He also has a habit of carrying a brush with him so he could comb your hair if it looked messy.

Changbin would take you to the gym with him and have you count for him and keep him company and when he’s done he’d take you to get a snack and fight over which seat you two would take on the couch before watching a movie

Hyunjin would have you help him decide what to draw or paint when he can’t decide and sometimes would let you chill with him while he did or you two would brainstorm over what he could do next. Sometimes you’d doodle on his sketch pad and he’d add details and he’d hang it either on the fridge or in his room.

Han would share bites of his cheesecake with you or if you bring back cheesecake for him you both would share it and would see who could take the biggest bite and he’d poke your cheeks while they puffed up, you both had a contest of who had the puffiest cheeks and it was left at a tie.

Felix would help you bake things that you’d find at the store and sometimes as a surprise you’d bake something and you'd find a way to get ice cream inside or serve it on the side. And sometimes to mess with him you'd try to bake BbokAri for dinner and in return he'd hit you with your own character.

Seungmin and you like to go out when it becomes fall you two would sit outside in some sweaters and just chill until you two see some stray dogs walk by and then you two run to see who can pet it first.

Jeongin and you would genuinely just bond as the youngest of the group with similarities and you’d mostly follow him around the most out of all of the members and most of the times you two can be seen hiding in a corner gossiping about random things.

HELP THIS HAS BEEN SITTING FOR LIKE A MONTH IM SORRY AND IM KINDA SHY TO POST THIS IDK WHY I FEEL LIKE ITS TOO SHORT