#there's literally so much more that could be added to this and truly its not at all how I think things might actually go

[daughterofyourdarklord]

But what if Delphini was at Hogwarts the same time as the trio???

Year 1: 

“Please.” 

She jokes, nudging at her cousin who’s sitting tall besides her in the train compartment. “Harry Potter being in our year at Hogwarts is nothing more than a gift.” She means it too, forcing away that pit of fear that settles in her stomach whenever she thinks about the chosen one. About everything he’s already taken from her family, from her.

Draco goes on joking with their soon-to-be fellow Slytherins. The express is buzzing with energy, though most of the First Year’s look more nervous than excited. 

She runs into Neville Longbottom on their waltz to the Great Hall. He bends directly in front of her, picking up some slimy toad off the stone floor with bare hands. Disgusting. He’s on his knees when he looks up and meets her eye, terror seeping into his gaze. She smiles at him devilishly, pausing for a moment before pushing him aside in an effort to get to what she is certain will soon be her throne room. 

“Delphini Lestrange.”

It’s a horrible cover-up of a last name, an obvious lie to any witch or wizard who knows better. McGonagal calls it nonetheless. There is a weight on her shoulders as she walks forward, the same one that’s settled their since the moment she was born. 

No one is surprised when the hat deems her a Slytherin.

Delphini feels Dumbledore’s stare on her the entire walk over to the sea of green and silver, but it’s Snape’s eyes that she meets when she sits down. 

The tension between Slytherin and Gryffindor is palpable. Worse than it has been in years, or so the older students claim. Delphini knows why, and Draco does too. 

She’s still glaring at the Granger girl when Quirrell asks her to stay after class in a sputter. 

“Of course, Professor.” She answers sweetly, watching from the corner of her eye as jealousy blooms across the mudbloods face. Ever the teacher’s pet. He seals the doors behind them, locking them with a flick of his wrist and casting a silencing charm while he’s at it. 

This time, he does not stutter when he speaks to her. 

Year 2: 

She dreams of a snake all alone, somewhere dark. Crying out for family, for companionship, for someone to listen. Anyone.

Only no one is there.

She wakes up in her dormitory with tears in her eyes. 

There’s been whispers about the Heir of Slytheirn. Talk that he’s returned, that he’s ready to rid the school of all filth that stands in his mighty way. 

Sometimes she wonders how people might react to find out that 'he' is actually a 'she.'

Regardless, it’s not Delphini that’s playing around in the chamber this year. A part of her is wildly unsettled that she doesn’t know who it is. 

It’s no matter, she has far more important things to focus on.

Initially, she almost isn’t allowed to take part in the dueling club. Some poor excuse sprouted up by the Gryffindors, accusations of dark magic and cheating. Unsurprisingly, its Severus that comes to her aid.  

Dueling comes far too naturally to her, and feels oh so sweet. Still she works harder, so eager, ready to fight, to strike. She trains and trains and then trains some more. 

She needs to be enough for Him, when the time is right. 

Potter being a parselmouth is.. Unexpected.

Even Severus seems surprised. Delphini is not sure how to handle the news, she writes home to her Uncle who informs her to stay out of it.

For the first time in a long time, she listens. 

Sometimes, she thinks she's going insane. She hears her father speaking to her through the castle walls, they whisper and she listens. She continues her training.

She will be enough. 

That poor snake. 

Year 3: 

The castle is awake, dementors swarming high above them, eager, hungry.  

She hates them. 

Delphini is determined and reluctant all at once in her venture.

Macnair had just walked out to call for the dementors, readying them to focus their rage. Quickly and quietly she slips into Flitwick’s office. 

They both freeze the minute their gazes meet. 

Eyes clashing from across the room, one hand still resting on the door handle, the other’s chained to an ornate desk. Sirius is the first to break the spell. 

“You look just like her.”

She shifts her gaze away at that, something in her shattering just a little. “I know.” She wants to answer, but she doesn’t have the time. 

“How did you do it?” 

This time, it’s him that doesn’t answer, eyes scanning her face almost wistfully.

“She’d never stop talking about you, you know? Drove the other inmates mad in her rantings, but really I think she just didn’t want to forget.”

And how that just aches. 

She shatters further. “How could you leave her!?” She wants to scream, instead she asks again: 

“How did you manage to escape?” Her voice sounds more desperate than commanding, close to a whisper. 

He smiles sadly. 

“She can’t do it..” Delphini waits for him to finish his sentence. It’s short, and certainly not the answer she was looking for. “I’m an animagus.” 

And that’s all she needed to hear. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly, not bothering to hide her reaction. That familiar weight settles heavily on her shoulders again, for a moment she feels like she might crumble beneath it. Quickly she turns back to the door, ready to race out of the room and pretend he told her anything else. 

She pauses, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder to glance back at his haunting face. 

“Then why wait all this time? Why not leave that place the second you had the chance?” 

He doesn’t answer. 

He doesn’t need to.

Year 4: 

It was gorgeous, the bright green in stark contrast against the dark night sky. Constellations gleaming in its wake, a harmony in the heavens.

A terrorist attack, they had called it. 

Art, Delphini thought. It was the first time she’d ever seen it. 

Something was coming. Lucius seemed certain of this, even Narcissa had given them an exceptionally careful goodbye before ushering them onto the express.

The Triwizard Tournament turned out to be an even bigger let down than she’d imagined. Beauxbatons was a bore, and the Drumstang boys seemed scared of her, which was no surprise really. 

Karkaroff avoided her like a poor case of mumblemumps. 

His time would come, it was not up to Delphini to designate punishment. Not yet.  

Watching Potter almost die at the edge of each of these challenges did add a nice touch to the year. Though, all that anticipation she’d felt in summer dwindled a bit each time he survived. 

It wasn’t until Moody tracked her down in the corridors after hours that things really got interesting. 

Even Delphini was surprised to find Barty somehow alive. 

He doesn’t tell her much. They don’t have a lot of time as it stands, and really she’s just thrilled to have finally met him. He’s full of promises, of course. Lot’s of ‘soons’ and ‘be ready’. Delphini doesn’t get any of the details but she’s known since the beginning of term that it was finally coming. She’s more than ready, more than enough. Isn’t she?  

"The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and He will come for me!"

The scripture scrawled into her very soul. There have been signs everywhere pointing towards His return. Now she knows it to be true. 

“You have her face,” Moody - Barty - interrupts her thoughts, he’s staring at Delphini in near worship, a look so foreign for the professor. “You have His eyes, though.” 

“I know.” 

She meets Him for the first time later that summer and He tells her something similar. It means all the more coming from Him.

Before her father, for the first time, she spins her spells into symphonies, her hexes into homilies, casts her curses to the constellations. Shows Him everything she knows, and all her power with it.

She walks back over to Him when she is well and through, magic still radiating off of her in harsh waves. Her father takes her wand from her hands. 

“I have much to learn.” Delphini offers, and she knows it to be true.

Her father is looking at her wand still. 

Dragon-heartstring, like her mother. Yew, like His own. 

He is smiling when he answers, something proud dancing in those red eyes. “Yes. You do.”

Year 5: 

With the commencing of the Spring Equinox she is finally allowed home. Ostara save her.

Delphini has to brace herself before walking through those large double doors, entirely unsure exactly who she might find on the other side. 

Still, her heart is burning. 

At last. 

Her mother’s embrace is a blessing. A gift Delphini hadn’t known she needed. That sharp look of recognition in her eyes hurts in all its relief. 

She really does wear her face, afterall. They’d all promised her as much, didn’t they?

Father is there, He is watching. Studying them both, studying their interaction.  

Her mother takes her face between her palms like a prayer, eyes shining. She’s full of promises and penitence. Delphini isn't having any of it. Her mother owes her nothing and this, just being here, it's more than enough.

Delphini has never felt so whole in all her life.

She begs to be a part of their plans at the ministry. Anything she can do to further the cause, support her family, put them back into their rightful place - above everyone else.

It's futile. She's far too young, and the logistics of getting her there are far too problematic. There's talk of Azkaban and Bellatrix looks terrified at the prospect of Delphini somehow winding up there.

"Absolutely not. The choice is not yours to make and your Father and I are in perfect agreement that you remain at the school." She turns to her, reaching a hand up to caress Delphi's cheek tenderly.

"We'll celebrate once we return with the prophecy, hm?"

It's the one promise Delphini will accept wholeheartedly.

Year 6: 

Somehow, it’s Draco and Delphini that bear the brunt of the shame brought on from the fiasco at the Ministry. 

Draco is marked, as punishment to Lucius (to Narcissa).

Delphini is not, as punishment to Bellatrix (to herself). 

Her cousin is crumbling under the pressure, Delphini is soaring. It's the same weight she’d felt her whole life, only this time she finally has an opportunity to act on it.   

It takes longer than she would like to mend the vanishing cabinet. Draco was seeing to it personally in the beginning, but with little to no headway Delphini made it her personal mission.

Not that it really mattered anyway. Delphini has other plans entirely. 

Whilst Draco wastes his time casting cursed necklaces and poisoning wine, Delphini is speaking with the stars. 

She will be enough.

When the day of reckoning is finally upon them she can hardly hold back. 

“Expelliarmus.” It’s swift and was fully intended to take him off guard but she’d still expected him to put up some sort of a fight. Immediately, something seems off, its only a matter of sorting out whether or not its something she can take advantage of. 

“Evening, Delphini, Draco. Are you alone?” 

“Who else is here?” She doesn’t bother to entertain his question, though Draco is quick to boast about the Death Eaters holding off the guards down below. Dumbledore assures them he is alone, but the two brooms resting along the ramparts suggest otherwise. 

No matter, Delphini will handle them both. Draco is waxing on, talking about the vanishing cabinet and Rosmerta. Much as she hates to listen to him give them all away she’s taking a moment to study the Headmaster. Something seems off, as he is entirely unbothered to be at the wrong side of their wands.  

“And why have you waited?” The headmaster interrupts after a beat, causing even her cousin to pause. “Those feeble attempts to kill me all year, surely they weren’t you.” He is speaking directly to Delphini now, she knows it.

She smiles. 

Quickly, the other Death Eaters are fast up the stairs making their presence known. 

“It doesn't have to be this way.” The Headmaster continues, eyes only on her despite the others' verbal jabs. “Long ago, I met a boy who made all the wrong choices-"

“My Father, you mean?” She breaks her silence, the other Death Eaters laugh behind her at the revelation. Though Dumbledore is not at all surprised, and why would he be? “There’s no reason to hide behind truth’s any longer, Headmaster. His time has come, and consequently yours is over.” 

And suddenly Severus is there stepping forward to share a look with Dumbledore. A part of her considers testing the potion professors loyalty.. 

..Only, this is her moment.

“Avada Kedavra!” It’s sweet on her tongue, and even sweeter watching him fall. They’re on the move sooner than she’d like for them to be, hardly a chance to savor it.  

On their flight into the forbidden forest she throws a ‘morsmordre’ into the sky like a personal signature. The monogram of her family. 

When she finally greets them, He tells her she’s worthy and stitches as much into the inside of her left forearm.

She is enough.

Year 7: 

It’s beyond refreshing, being who she was always meant to be. 

Watching as Slytherins and now students alike all bow at her feet, that renewed fear keening in their eyes. 

She savors it, relishes in their reactions.

Miss Black, they call her.

It’s nearly perfect. Helping alongside mother and father to secure the ministry this summer, returning to Hogwarts with an honest surname, unforgivables cast at her fingertips without repercussion. 

Of course, there is still the looming prospect of Potter. 

He’s been hiding from them all for far too long, lurking in the shadows despite the growing number of mudbloods father kills. Finally, they manage to locate him at Hogwarts, where boy wonder somehow convince the entire school to fight for him. How cute.

Until eventually, they find a way to lure him out. 

Father calls her to the boathouse through the mark she finally bears. Her mother falls into step with her the moment she departs, Delphini is not sure if she was called but what does it matter? They’re family.

Nagini greets her with enthusiasm, dancing between her legs like a cat. She acknowledges her, of course, but only after she acknowledges Him.

He eyes her mother disapprovingly and Delphini is not at all sure what to make of that. 

“We’ll have him soon, Father. I'm certain of it. He’s far too righteous to let this continue, even if it is good fun. He will come to you. ”

He hums in agreement, long fingers tracing his newfound wand. 

“That he will, Delphini.”

She waits then, she and mother both, giving him the floor to impart his orders.

“You understand, Delphini, that you have proved yourself very valuable to me since my return.” She smiles gently, sharing a warm look with her mother before turning back to Him. “You’ve been right about a number of things, and dedicated beyond my expectations.” He pauses again before resuming his gentle pacing. “One can only hope that that devotion continues with my next request.” 

He falls into step next to her mother, reaching forward to trace along Bellatrix jaw gently. 

“I have concerns, Bella, with how this new wand may cooperate with me when it comes time to put an end to Harry Potter.” Her mother looks confused, leaning forward into his touch.  

“My Lord?” He lingers a moment, appreciating her features before resuming his pacing. 

With it He continues, telling them of wandlore he was able to gather from Ollivander, from Gregorovitch. Delphini’s stomach sinks with every word. 

“You understand, Delphini.” He pauses, stopping directly opposite her on the other side of the small boathouse with an imploring look. “That while you live, the elder wand will never truly be mine?” 

And finally she is crumbling under the weight of it all.

Tears swim in her eyes as she looks at Him without answer, finally broken. She did everything right - exactly as He had asked her to! She did it all for Him - for them! To be everything and more.. To be enough..

Though, it seems she may never be enough. 

“F-father..” Her voice is broken, stubborn tears escaping from her eyes, eyes the same shade as His own. He doesn’t speak, nor does he resume his pacing. 

And then there’s Bellatrix, balancing on the edge of in-between them.

Delphini is too afraid to even look at her, desperation more than evident in her mother's voice: “My Lord. Certainly, there is another way. We can take Potter as prisoner and work the rest out later! How can we trust the word of a two-timing wandmaker? No - there are more, other wandmakers throughout Europe! I will bring them to you and we can find other ways - just like we always do..My Lord.."

His eyes don’t leave Delphini's own.  

“Please.”

[kurogxrix]

Drunkenly In Love

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!reader

IN WHICH you and Bucky ‘accidentally’ get married after a drunken game of truth or dare with the avengers.

WC: 5.4k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, nausea, mentions of puke, drunken decisions, suggestive, angst?.

A/N: In this Bucky and Steve are able to get at least a bit drunk with Asgardian liquor.

Your throat burnt as the alcohol downed its way into your system, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to put the bottle down. None of you could in fact, and it started to look less like the avengers and more like a squad of alcoholics. Nevertheless, you all deserved a night of getting completely shitfaced after saving the world once again, and so this was what you all were doing. 

It was relaxing to see the people that usually stayed sober to care for you all, finally give in to the sheer pleasure of the buzz. What was even funnier, was seeing your teammates with ‘high tolerances’ like Bucky and Steve succumb to the venomous call of Thor’s Adgardian liquor. It wasn’t enought you get them as fucked up as the rest of you, considering that the serum made them filter alcohol way faster than it should. However the mere strength of it gave them a good couple of minutes of intoxication, and with teammates like you and Tony around, a couple of minutes were definitely enough to stir some trouble.

Trouble, the nickname that had been given to you by the team. The notorious partner in crime of none other than Iron Man and The Falcon themselves. You loved stirring trouble and pulling harmless pranks on your teammates, whether it’d be adding food colouring to Steve’s shampoo, which definitely left him a little confused and a little pink for the rest of the week. Or like that one time you and Tony had placed glitter bombs around the tower. Except that one wasn’t as funny as you had originally planned, because having the former Black Widow chasing after you was not the definition of fun.

Past your playful exterior, you were always a teammate that your friends relied on. The rest of the avengers loved you like you were their own sibling, and you’d found sisterhood in the presence of Wanda and Nat. They saw past your flaws and the lack of control that you had with your own powers when you first joined the team, and instead helped you with and through those obstacles like a real family should. 

It took you a while to break through Bucky’s tough exterior, but you didn’t expect any less from the Ex Hydra soldier that was constantly haunted by the memories of what he’d done. Even if none of it was his fault, as you’d remind him constantly, you knew that it was always hard for him to accept when every time he’d close his eyes he was flashed with the images of his hands covered in blood, nobody else’s but his. 

Your outgoing personality also made it very hard to connect with him, because he felt that someone with so much potential of making other friends than ones as messed up in the head as him should go on and do so, but you had never given up. And you were glad that you hadn’t, because over the years, you’d grown fond of seeing that warm smile lift upon his lips at the very rare occasions. 

-

Everything had started out as a shitty game of truth or dare, truly. After Bruce had chosen truth once too many times and Thor kept on complaining that his dares were too ‘serene’, your true mastermind had truly come to show. 

“Come closer dude, we literally can’t see you,” you called out to Thor, throwing an arm over his shoulders to bring him closer to you as you both sat on the luxurious yet oddly long sofa in the Stark Tower. Your front camera was on, an out-of-frame picture of yours and Thor’s forehead being snapped as your hand trembled too much, and the beefy blond was far too impatient for you to retake. 

You’d posted a story on the Avengers instagram account with the encouragement of your peers, and of course the worrying of a typsy Steve. It was probably the worst idea that you could have come up with, because after solely a couple minutes of posting a ‘send us dares’ story, your phones began to blow with notifications. 

It took you all a solid minute to reassemble everyone together to start reading the messages, and you ignored the far too crude ones as you moved to the funny ones. Cue the loud ringing of Sam and Thor’s laughter combined and minutes later, you’d all decided on a couple of ones for the night. 

I’d started off with things such as vision, who he was solely participating in because everyone was borderline pressuring him 

It’d started off with things such as a very sober vision, who was solely participating because everyone was borderline pressuring him due to his lack of ability when it came to being influenced by alcohol, give the AI a break. He had been dared to recreate the spaghetti scene from ‘Lady and The Tramp’ with Clint. Needless to say that they both broke apart the spaghetti centimetres apart, unable to stop the roaring of laughter from raising up their throats. 

Next thing you know is that Wanda was wrapped in toilet paper like a damned mummy, and Tony revealed his inner Magic Mike. But the man used to be a legitimate whore, so it was nothing surprising really. You all had realised somewhere along the night that you’d been acting a little too much like children considering your ages, and instead of switching back to your professional selves, you decided to empty another bottle or two for the night. 

What you hadn’t expected for the night however, was the bold and surprising request of ‘Marry the person to your left’ that was now sitting in your inbox. It sounded so stupidly thought of that you could practically tell that it was coming from a kid, but something inside of you couldn’t care less about the future repercussions of going further on with the dare. 

In fact, you felt your drunken heart accelerating its pace when you were met with the sight of the one and only Bucky Barnes sitting to your left. It did not help that you had been attracted to the man for what seemed like 2 years now, yet you hardly acted on those feelings. It was easier to pretend like your admiration towards the super soldier was nonexistent rather than face his rejection. The rejection that you thought he’d give you if you ever confessed, but if only you knew. 

If only you knew how many nights he’d been spending up rethinking the amount of interactions he could’ve sparked with you if he hadn’t been so hesitant. If only you knew how much Bucky yearned to confront his own self about his self deprecating issues, but deep down he knew that he was right. He knew that a person as charismatic and chaotic as you did not deserve to be chained to a person as grumpy and boring as him. 

You considered shying away when the whole team turned to you asking what your dare was, but it’d be a direct giveaway of your feelings towards the brunette once they’d hear what your dare was. Instead you’d feigned the shock that you had initially felt before the warmness of your imagination seeped in, the thoughts of you being married to Bucky making your brain short circuit. 

“Woahhh and would you look at that,” the lack of surprise in your voice was masked by the slur of your words because of how much you’d drank, and you were glad that everybody else had ingurgitated just as much as you because their faces showed no sign of suspicion as they waited for you to turn your phone around. The first person that you had shown it to was whoever was to your right, and that just happened to be Sam and Scott. 

The duo squealed like little girls at the sight of the dare, but the Falcon’s eyes widened comically as he eyed who exactly was at your left. He’d snatched your phone instantly to show the others, and no matter how much you protested for him to hand it back to you, Sam was like an annoying big brother to you. There was no way you’d be getting it back unless you forcedly found a way to. 

The three other girls in the tower had their hands over their mouths as they read the exact words that this random person had sent you, and Wanda looked more excited than you were. You’d beg her to exchange dares with her if it wasn’t for the bulky super soldier’s family name being on the line, and you had no issue with becoming Mrs.Barnes.

Steve and Bucky on their sides sat there confused as everyone kept on basking Bucky some shocked and amazed looks, which was starting to irritate him greatly because everybody was taking so much time with the phone and nobody was even voicing out what the damned dare was. His vexation had lasted for minutes until the phone had been personally placed in his hands by no other than Sam himself. 

Bucky placed the phone between himself and Steve as their quick eyes skimmed over the text. His only physical reaction to the words was the raise of his eyebrows, but fuck was his heart stammering against his rib cage at a faster pace than the speed at which Steve ran his morning rounds. His reaction had you internally pausing all other thoughts as you imagined that he was slightly disgusted at the idea. 

You knew that he had a dream of domesticity back in the 40’s, but you knew that no man would like to be forced into a marriage with a woman that they didn’t want to marry. And although Bucky admired you in much more than a platonic way, that you didn’t know of yet, he hadn’t necessarily imagined himself being married to you. He was still figuring out how to ask you out without pussing out at the last minute, which had happened to him about 5 times now. Needless to say that Sam had made fun of him all five times. 

He was internally turmoiled, and if not for the alcohol running thick in his system, he’d say no. He’d refuse and say that you deserved better than him and some shitty ceremony based on some even shittier dare. But he couldn’t physically say it now, not when his better judgement was affected and the alcohol let the side that was fond of you control him. 

You were about to open your mouth to tell him that it was okay, that he could decline or worse, you could find another partner. Even if you didn’t want to marry anyone else than him, even less for a game. Yet he cut you off with a deep laugh that startled everyone in the room, it was not sardonic but rather held an amusing tone to it. 

Bucky shook his head as he stood up to look at you, grasping your hands in his bigger ones like some romance movie sap. The Cheshire grin on his face made you want to melt into putty in his embrace, and his stupidly plain words had you doubling back. 

“So…what time’s the wedding?” 

-

“Hurry up, you’re gonna be late to your own wedding!” the teasing sound of Wanda’s voice called out to you, accent thick in her tone. The guys had already rushed your soon-to-be groom into Tony’s room to get him ready, much to the billionaire’s dismay. You couldn’t help but laugh your entire way towards the room, you face up towards the ceiling as you giggled like a mad woman.

Wanda dragged you by the arm and into Nat’s room, who was nose deep inside her wardrobe in search of an appropriate dress for your ‘wedding’. You’d be searching through Pepper's closet given that she had a wider selection, but you couldn’t go there given that the boys were dressing Bucky up in Tony and Pepper’s shared room. 

“What about this one? Or- No, this one!” you snapped your head towards the sound of Wanda’s voice, only to catch her with two dresses in hands. Except these two dresses had little to nothing to do with a wedding, yet alone being the bride to that wedding, but this was Nat’s wardrobe after all. The black Maxi dress in her hands was the definition of the former Black Widow’s wardrobe, tight, dark and sexy if anything. 

You didn’t have much say in the decision because soon enough the two girls were on you, shoving your limbs and whatnot through the holes of the dress to drape it over you. You couldn’t lie when you said that it did fit you well, the stretchy fabric of the dress squeezing and moulding into your body in every way that it should. The dress finished by your ankles, accompanied by spaghetti straps and a pair of pretty heels that had been shoved in your hands for you to slip on. 

Given that the dress did in fact go braless, you did have a little worry about how the chilly air outside would mix with that, but you were far too gone to even care. With some final touches and a brush of makeup, you were finally ready to meet your to-be husband. 

As a kid you’d always imagine your wedding scene to be much more emotional than this. You’d imagine yourself in some stupid movie scene where you’d cry at the first sight of your husband, but now the only tears you were holding back were the ones you were getting from laughing so much. Pepper had to slap you on the back to straighten up after you’d crumpled down from laughter, and you had yet to even meet up with Bucky. 

You could hear the loud and deep voices of the other men past the long hallway that you were currently walking in, and you mentally cursed Tony for being so rich and having such a big Tower because hell were your feet already hurting in those heels.

“Here comes the bride!” The sudden entrance of Clint’s excited voice made your eyes snap upwards, and you instantly realised that you had finally left the never ending hallway. All eyes were on you, but instead of judging your odd wedding outfit, you were relieved to hear their cheers. You couldn’t even tell why you’d gotten anxious about your team being unaccepting of your fit when that odd dare was the genesis of this whole moment. 

Bucky stood out in his black suit amongst the other ‘underdressed’ avengers, and when your eyes met with the familiar blue ones amongst all the others, suddenly all you could focus on was him. Not on your friends around you half heartedly arguing about whether you guys looked like the Addams couple or Lydia Deetz and Beetlejuice because of your attire. In the most adoring way possible, of course. 

Your gaze never left his accept when his eyes cast down to scan your outfit, and you could’ve sworn that there was even more adoration swirling in his baby blue iris when they went back up to meet with yours again. This was at last a little bit how you had expected your wedding to go as when you were a kid, all until…

The loud laughter erupting out of your throats rebounded against the tower’s walls, making you both sound way louder than you actually were. The rest of your friends didn’t even bother with the both of you, just talking over your laughter as you doubled over at how stupid this whole situation was. Yet again you couldn’t take anything seriously when you were sober, now imagine yourself when a drop of alcohol entered your system. 

The sound of Bucky’s laughter was something that you didn’t know you needed today, but fuck did it sound like heaven. You wanted him to keep on laughing like this forever, for that wide smile on his face to stay instead of that usual scowl he wore on his face. You wanted Bucky to continue being so happy and carefree like this, you wanted to keep on making Bucky so happy like this. 

Nevertheless your little moment was shortly interrupted by Wanda yet again grasping onto your arm, this time with a little more pressure as Happy’s impatient honking could be heard all the way from up here in the Tower. As you left, Bucky couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to your retreating form. Before Steve came to shake his shoulders playfully from the back, muttering something that you couldn’t hear or even care about from where you were, but it didn’t fail to make heat creep up Bucky’s neck. 

-

The ride in Stark’s limousine was just as fun as the rest of the night itself, except that now they were popping a bottle of champagne to honorate your soon to be ‘wedding’. Honestly you had up to zero idea as to how all of your stomachs could support so much liquids in one night, but you were 100% sure that Happy had snuck in sparkling juice inside the limousine fridge because he was starting to get a little worried. The sight of Scott literally gagging while trying to keep everything down his throat nearly made you puke everything that you’d drank throughout the night, but you forced your glance away from the man to avoid any accidents. 

The poor bruce looked drunkenly traumatised as Tony conducted a little karaoke at the back of his limousine, which was the least surprising for the billionaire. You got a good laugh once more out of the ride, which was heading towards somewhere for you both to sign the register and finally make you Mrs.Barnes. Oh and how many times had you dreamt of this moment before, yet it didn’t happen like this in your fantasy.

The car finally stopping signed a peace treaty for the poor nauseous scott, and he could finally breathe again without feeling like his stomach was flipping inside out. You all could barely even make it out of the car without stumbling your ways out. Fuck and how did you all even manage to get this fucked up? You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d gotten so drunk that you could barely even stand up straight, but it was most probably during your college years.

Being part of the troupe that saves the world from the devil's grip was not an easy job. There'd be days where you’d be gone for weeks on nothing else but a simple mission, and you couldn’t even guarantee that you’d even return as a whole from the other ones. So while you could, you’d enjoy your holidays and be free, fuck if it meant playing some stupidly childish game of drunken truth or dare. 

All eyes were of you guys from the moment you’d stepped out of the limousine and into the courthouse. Of course Tony hadn’t reserved a normal courtroom in some random courthouse, no instead he’d reserved you the most pristine and elegant one you’d ever seen. The marble stairs and luxurious railings left you speechless, but yet you couldn’t expect little if it was coming from one and only Iron Man. 

A civil ceremony wasn’t what the little you had envisioned for her big day, but her dreams were being forgotten today because you were still young and you could always have a traditional wedding ceremony afterwards if this one didn’t satisfy you anyways. 

You received a bunch of odd looks from whoever was working at the courthouse as you made way into the room. Either from the fact that you were dressed the furthest away from what a bride usually looks like, or from the amount of noise that your team was making. The officiant clearly looked like he wanted to tell you to rethink this, perhaps when you were sober and stable enough to actually think. Though Tony had paid him a stack of cash high enough for him to keep quiet, but his eyes were speaking for himself. 

“Look at my children, they’re growing up so fast!” Same wiped a fake tear on his face as he tried to conceal his laughter as sobs. Scott besides him was wiping tears too, though his didn’t quite seem fake…

Like any wedding ceremony, you’d all taken some corny pictures that you could laugh at while sitting by a campfire in a couple of years. You’d decided that the bride would take pictures with the groomsmen and the groom would take pictures with the bridesmaids, because this was no ordinary wedding, so you might as well make it laugh worthy. One of your matching pictures had you standing perched on both of Steve’s and Scott’s shoulders as they both held onto your ankles in case you happened to slip back. The rest of the boys you considered family posed in the most boyish yet stupidly cute pose as the flash blinded the whole of you. 

In your husband’s photos, Bucky was being suspended up in the air as some red aura kind of magic enveloped him. Queue an annoyed looking Pepper and Natasha standing besides Wanda as she lifted the man up in the air, their arms crossed across their chests as they gave Bucky an unimpressed look. The annoyance was all pretend, considering that after the camera’s click went off, they all rekindled their cheerful selves. 

“You guys need to end the night with a kiss, there’s no bride or groom going back home right now before you guys smooch!” Wanda slurred, her cheeks pink from the heat of the alcohol. Vision had to keep an arm around her waist at all times in case she fell over, and the AI sighed at everyone’s stupidity. At this point you were sure that everyone in the courtroom other than you guys was starting to get irritated with the noise so you decided to cut this short and just sign the damn papers already.

Except that now everyone was pressing on to what Wanda had said, and your nerves were running thick. You wanted to with no doubt, kiss the extremely handsome super soldier that you were somewhat about to marry, but you feared that you’d be going too far. Sure this whole thing was a whole joke, so what if he’d agree for the sake of the joke as well? You could always dream and delude yourself about the fact that he’d actually accepted the dare because he liked you just like you did him but you’d never know until you asked. 

Instead, you stayed quiet and tried to ignore the high pitched yelling coming from your teammates as the officiant passed you the pen. Your hand shook as you stared at the paper before you, and for a second you had to remind yourself that none of this was real. And so finally, you bent over to sign the papers that laid on a strangely low table.

Natasha’s teasing wolf whistle made your nerves dissipate and a goofy smile crawl up your face as she called you out for your position, or rather the way that your dress was tightening further with the position. Your hands were swift as you worked on the signature, little to no care for the lines of text that you were supposed to consider before officially tying yourself to the man that would also sign the same paper. 

You watched with a grin as Bucky approached the table to do the same, teasingly getting into the same position as you previously were to hear the loud screeching cheers of your teammates. You watched as he signed the paper off with the flick of his wrist, a hidden elegance in the way he moved being a surprise turn on for you. 

Bucky had not even had time to barely stand back up straight again before you had both started getting bombarded with a ‘kiss to seal the deal’ request from your friends, and you did agree that it’d only make sense to kiss your other half on your wedding day. You didn’t want to make it seem like you were all too eager to smooch the former Winter Soldier, although on the inside you were shaking with anticipation. 

His touch took you off guard as you felt time stop as his large palm slotted itself in the crevice of your back, the warmth of his hand seeping through the dress. You felt as he pulled you closer to him with that hand, but you couldn’t look elsewhere than his eyes. You got the moto to finally close your eyes instead of staring at him like some creep as you felt his other palm closing on your cheek. Your palms came to rest on his chest as he dipped you like in those cheesy rom coms from the 40’s, and you guessed that was his inspiration. 

The kiss was much needed, you felt like it’d cut through some of the tension that you’d both built throughout the past months. Bucky’s nose flashed against yours as he kissed you with need, near desperation. His lips slotted over yours perfectly, the slight dip of his head making you go feral as he reached deeper like he was trying to devour you whole. 

Asif you and your friends couldn’t get any louder, their yelling had yet ceased to stop. Truly a sight for the people who knew the Avengers as the universe’s saviour. The end of the night had left a usually happy and unusually smiling Bucky, and not to forget, the whole group of tipsy Avengers in the back. 

The initial energy that you all had at the start of the day had eventually worn out by the time you were making your way back to the car. It didn’t mean that the ride back was silent though, you’d all participated in a round of karaoke before sitting down and finally for the first time this entire night, calmly talking like normal people. 

-

Waking up with a pounding headache and no water in sight wasn’t necessarily the best way to wake up, but that’s how Bucky’s morning was going anyway. The plush mattress felt uncomfortable to him, and Bucky wondered what he was even doing on a bed considering he’d gotten used to sleeping on the floor ever since his Soldat days. His eyes held a grogginess that irritated him, in fact everything from the scratchy material of the cotton sheets to his headache was annoying him, and he could blame nothing else but the trace of alcohol that he knew he’d drunk yesterday night. 

It was obvious that he was under the influence yesterday and had gotten back home just as faded, because he could feel the fabric of a suit on his body as his hands roamed freely. His pants were still fastened on with the tight belt, which he’d removed with a content sigh. Bucky’s fingers rubbed at his eyes until he got most of the sleepiness out of them, but his muscles suddenly froze as the sound of shuffling beside him. 

His heart stopped for a second, before resuming its pounding just 3x the original speed. He couldn’t remember much of yesterday, and surely not that he’d brought someone back home with him. He was relieved at the memory of his suit still very much on him, the tight belt telling him that it hadn’t been removed ever since he’d put it on him. He’d love to beat himself at the thought of having to pick up his courage to turn around and meet whoever was in his bed, given that a super soldier like him had gone through scarier scenarios.

His breath caught stuck in his throat as he turned around to be met with the sight of…you? It felt like the planet earth had stopped orbiting for a second as he felt ten times more dizzy than he’d felt at his wake. His confusion ran thick as he watched you comfortably snoozing off in his bed. His bed? Bucky thought about it again, there was no way that he wasn’t currently in the Stark Tower, and he could tell that the room looked nothing like his despite the little lighting that he had to observe his surroundings. 

He was in your room, on your bed. How he’d arrive here was a mystery, but that was something to decipher later on. Bucky’s eyes gazed over your sleeping form, from the way your cheeks were adorably squished against your pillow with your hands tucked under them. His eyes trailed down towards your outfit, and he wanted to yell at himself for the way that he ogled a little too long at the sight of the thin, tight fabric resting against your chest. The dress was all out of place because of how much you’d move in your sleep, it looked like it would completely expose your breast if you moved just a little more. 

Bucky felt much guilt coursing through his veins as he continued to eye you like some crude teenage boy, yet he couldn’t get himself to stop. He could’ve sworn that he had to hold himself back from drooling at the sight of your long dress all scrunched up around your hips, exposing a bit of your legs to him. The sheer black fabric left much to the imagination as it wrapped perfectly around your thighs, that were perfectly plumped out for him in the fetal position that you slept in. 

He had to physically run a hand down his face to distract the flow of blood reaching the unconventional spot right now, and instead tried to focus on finding out how he’d end up here. Sure he had no problems with sharing a bed with you, matter of fact he’d dreamt of it for months now ever since he’d developed a ‘crush’ on you as Steve would annoy him with. Yet, he felt that it was wrong as he could clearly smell the pungent smell of liquor on the both of you. 

He grunted as he sat up, cracking his back like the old man that he was. Bucky checked up on you once more to find you peacefully sleeping the morning away, probably due to the amount that you drank yesterday, yet he didn’t care because it looked like you were having the best sleep of your life. As he fumbled with something along your bedside table, Bucky’s hand accidently came to crumble the side of a piece of paper.

Cursing to himself, he grabbed the sheet to try and smooth it out before you killed him for messing with your shit. Though he cared little for what that paper was, the words in bold ‘Marriage’ that he’d caught in the corner of his eye had surprised him, so he allowed himself to peek a little into your private life. A sudden new fear coursed through his body as he looked back at you for another second. Were you married and living a double life? Fuck, now he felt even more shitty as he laid on a bed with you, what would your husband think of all of this? Was your husband a shitty guy? Was that why you’d never mentioned him? 

All sorts of questions ran through his head, but not once had he berated or blamed you in his head. He knew that you were nothing more than loyal, so it confused him even more as to how wedding papers were just casually laying there on the table. However, as he opened the sheet of paper to pry into your life, his heart stopped at the clear handwriting that could belong to nobody else than him. His signature and name needed no explanation or proof, they were all clearly written by him. 

Bucky’s heart picked up the pace once more, only this time he felt like he was going to have a panic attack like he did after reliving his horrors through nightmares. He could barely remember shit of what had happened last night, and next thing he knows, he’s waking up next to the woman he fancies and apparently they’re married? 

He fumbled with the paper in a stressed out attempt at scampering, he needed answers, and if nobody had them then he surely knew that the multiple cameras around the Tower had them. He needed to talk to Steve about this mess, and as he prepared to stand up, he froze at the sound of your yawn. He laid there unmoving for a solid minute, wishing that you’d solely changed positions and went back to sleep. After a whole minute of silence, Bucky’s shoulders dropped in relief, all until-

“Bucky…?”

-

let’s pretend like the avengers are all united, happy and alive lmao:)

[skyeblue8]

Ɗᥙҽ 𝜏σ ᙏყ Ɲҽɯ⨍σᥙɳԃ Ƒιχα𝜏ισɳ... ♚

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Specifically with the Gluttonous Sin of Beelzebub being my favorite Sin of the group (not necessarily in Helluva Boss, but just in general), I wanted to make a ranking list of my favorite Queen Bee redesigns and their creators for really no other reason than I just feel like it. Now, this is all personal opinions and should not be taken to heart by any means, it's just for fun:

#1. "Beelzebub & Bibi" by @gravcore

♡ In terms of an actual redesign of the original, I love how this artist made "Bibi" because, for one thing, they made sense of the originals hair by giving her a ponytail since way too many characters have a mohawk style (Loona included); two, I cannot explain just how much I adore the clothes they gave her. The top is actually insect based and gorgeous, and not some recolor version of Loona's outfit; and third, they made canon Bee her own character rather than a royal because nothing about the OG read "Ancient Sin" to anybody.

♡ Now, in terms of the actual Beelzebub, here, she's legitimately stunning. Rather than a redesign, I can tell this was the original long before the Queen Bee episode came out, and I love how it reads both "70's party girl" and "regal ruler" all in one. That, and the actual bug design aspect and the color scheme. Above all else, I love how they incorporated the lava stomach in her design, too.

#2. "Beelzebub" by @s3tok41b4

♡ This design can best be described as a literal re-imagine of the canon Beelzebub as it shares almost all her similarities with the actual bug aspect to it that it desperately needed. It's legitimately simplistic but still appealing to the eye, futher showing us that Viv was perfectly capable of making something so simple, but actively chose to make it more confusing than it had to be.

#3. "Beelzebub" by @ruinxl0ve

♡ Similar to the first two, this shares both a regal and party girl bug aesthetic with the added bonus of actually being beautifully emotive despite not even having a mouth. I feel this beautifully differentiates the design from the original while also making it recognizable and I feel that it kinda feeds into the original concept that Queen Bee could literally "feel the vibe", hinting to her being an empath in some manner.

#4. "The Three Bees" by @onehelluvatime

♡ Long story short, these are three individual versions of the Queen Bee and her new placing within the Hellaverse outside of the canon one. For more in-depth explanation of these interpretations, it's best to check the blog yourself. Truly, I love these designs not only because of the visual redesigns themselves, but also the well-crafted and creative explanations and backgrounds regarding these characters. I especially like the idea that the hellhounds within society are half-undead with skull-like appendages and facial aspects.

#5. "Spontaneous Beelzebub" by @redd-byrd

♡ I know it's essentially the same as the canon design, but with the small tweaks that were made to this one (the giant "Bee Butt", the added black lines, the actual bug-like wings, the blue-thin eyes), all of them give a more clear indication (at least to me) that this Bee is more higher up than her fellow hellhounds, meaning she looks a lot more like a hybrid thus making her more grand. It's nice how they added these small details for improvement while still essentially leaving the design like its original.

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Anyway, thanks for listening to my Ted Talk. Have a nice day!

[scenezfreak]

HI POOKIE ITS YOUR FAVORITE REQUESTER AND I TOOK YOUR OFFER, MY EMOJI IS NOW 🍑 BECAUSE IM IMMATURE >:) ANYWAYS WHAT WOULD JEFF, LIU, AND TOBY BE LIKE WITH A SLUTTY S/O WHO NEEDS THEIR COCK ATLEAST ONCE A DAY AT MINIMUM??🤭

-LIZ🍑

YUHH HI 🍑ANON 🤭 ITS OK IM IMMATURE TOO LMAO, also imma start adding better images to my posts so it isn’t just a fucking red line 💀

Jeff, Liu, and Toby with a slutty S/O

NOT PROOF READ, MINORS DNI !!!

Jeff:

• He’d probably get fed up with you constantly needing his cock and would fuck you dumb so you couldn’t even ask for more.

• He would have you bent over a surface roughly fucking into you saying “Take my cock since you want it so bad”

• He wouldn’t fuck you just once, god no- he’d fuck you until you’re begging him to stop and even then you’ll be lucky if he even decides to give you a break

• When you do ask him to stop he’d grab your face, forcing you to look at him and say, “You’re the one who begged for my cock, so now you’ll take it.”

• You guys do have a safe word if it gets too much for you but you truly don’t want him to stop and he knows that too

Bonus: Jeff forced you to bend over a counter in an unknown house, you’re too needy for him to wait until you guys get home so he takes you in the house of the people you guys had just killed. “‘m sorry, Jeff…you just looked so hot fighting and killing that guy…” you whimper out, he puts a hand on your head, forcing your face to squish against the countertop, blood from his hands smearing on your face and on your hip from where he’s grabbing you. He starts grinding against you the curve of your ass. “Since you wanna act like such a whore, I’ll treat you like one.”

Liu:

• like Jeff, he’d fuck you dumb but on accident..

• He just wants to please you and accidentally goes too far, tbh I don’t think he’d be able to stop himself either

• How could he say no when you’re begging so nicely for his cock?

• He’s literally so in love with you it’s insane, he’d be giving you more than you asked for

Bonus: You had just cum for the 5th time and he’s still going, you can’t get enough of him and he can’t get enough of you. He starts speeding up and you can’t help but dig your nails into his back as he bullies your insides. There’s cum everywhere between your thighs and on him. The wet slapping sounds fill the room along with your moans and his grunts.

Toby:

• HE would be the one begging for sex and of course you’d comply since you were always horny for him

• He’d fuck into you so greedily like he hast just ruined you that morning

• After a round he’d ask, “Come on, one more for me, ok baby? Just one more” he demands it but it comes out as more of a beg

• Poor baby would make himself brain dead from cumming so much

Bonus: “Fuc- Fuck!” He groans as he cums inside of you again, keeping himself still inside of you he looks up with his puppy eyes, “Please j-just one- one more?” He asks. Breathless from just cumming you nod your head and he goes in for a kiss, his hands on your hips, using them as leverage to fuck into you again.

♡BONUS CHARACTER!♡

Eyeless Jack:

• He’s busy a lot so he doesn’t really have much time to fuck you when you’re needy

• BUT if you’re persistent enough he’ll definitely fuck your brains out

• On his heat tho?!?!?!?!? GYAT DAYUMMM. HES the whore then…

• Constantly begging for you, and who are you to refuse?

Bonus: “Y/n I can’t, I’m busy right now.” He says sternly. You huff and get on the ground to crawl under the desk. He jolts when you unzip his jeans, pulling his cock out. He starts to harden at the sight, you on your knees, your eyes big and begging as you rub his cock. You licking your lips as you bring your other hand to fondle with his balls. “Please Jack..?” You said pathetically. He stares at you for a while, you feel him twitch in your hands. “I guess a small break won’t hurt.” He says.

[avelera]

Let's Play: What's Wrong with this Sculpture?

Following in the theme of sharing astonishing moments of ancient sculpture pedantry here on Tumblr, based on my brief undergraduate stint as a T.A of ancient art history, I thought I'd share one of my other proudest moments of being an absolutely insufferable know-it-all about ancient sculptures.

In the process, I hope I can also share some of the sort of largely useless (from a practical perspective) information that Tumblr tends to glory in, so buckle up buttercups.

This question was posed to me on a walking tour of the Capitoline Museum in my ancient art history class while I was living abroad. Our professor, a delightfully curmudgeonly Belgian, stopped in front and asked us to figure out why this sculpture is just plain wrong.

I intend to walk you through the process of how I got the right answer and, after gaining my teacher's rare approval, glowed with enough serotonin to power a small nuclear reactor.

So, let's return to the original question: what is wrong with this sculpture?

Because if you are truly eagle-eyed you should be able to spot what very famous sculpture this actually is, before an overly imaginative Frenchman brought it back wrong.

Hint #1: It was incorrectly restored.

Look closely at the the difference of the patina, or color of the stone. It's a bit hard to tell in this photo, but the head was added later. It's a paler white than the core of the torso, which is what we have of the original sculpture.

Hint #2: It was incorrectly restored in the 18th century by a Frenchman (Pierre-Étienne Monnot) who made some, shall we say, creative interpretations of what's going on here.

You can tell it's by an 18th c. Frenchman because the facial features are so delicate. Ancient statues tend to have less narrow and delicate chins and noses. In general, that is a dead giveaway when something is 18th century French vs. Ancient Greek or Roman.

Here's a good example. The first sculpture is 18th c. French, the second is the famous Venus de Milo. Note her blockier chin and less delicate features. So in the future, you can tell these sort of later additions to Greek or Roman sculptures if they added a new head because 17-19th century sculptors in Europe had tools (like finer drill tips) and tastes (beauty standards that favored more delicate men and women) that led to a pronounced difference in the faces.

Hint #3: Check out the anatomy of his lower shoulder. That's another addition, that arm should not be coming straight out of a torso where the muscle, if you look closely, is turned inward.

Seriously, that looks painful.

Hint #4: The sword he's holding up is just total nonsense for the Roman era. I mean, the restoration makes no secret of the fact that this sword is a later addition, but it's also just an absolute nonsense sword with its silly little curved cross guard. This Frenchman literally just made it up.

Here's an ancient sculpture with a sword in it that actually looks right:

From the Ludovisi Gaul, a famous Hellenistic Baroque work of Greek sculpture. Note the much blockier sword though I will admit, it could be a later addition, I don't know for 100% certain, but I'm pretty sure it's the original. Regardless, it fits the sculpture much better and let me add that sword I'm criticizing is completely made up for the sculpture we're talking about and is not there in the original sculpture that was incorrectly restored.

Ok, so those are all the hints.

Look closely at the body of the first sculpture. Cut away the arms that are not connected to the body correctly, the sword that shouldn't be there, the face that was far too delicate. When you separate those later additions out, can you tell me what sculpture that actually is?

Because here is the reveal!

The Discus Thrower, aka, the Discobolus by Myron.

The French restorationist got carried away by his own imagination, saw a twisted torso and thought it could only possibly be a warrior in the midst of twisting around to fend off a blow, not an athlete in the midst of a demonstration of skill. It's a martial, fanciful read that completely misinterpreted the subject.

This is why most restoration today employs a much lighter touch, rather than trying to reattach pieces incorrectly, they tend to just outline where the missing pieces are with a light sketch of an educated guess of what might have actually been there. Faulty restorations like the Capitoline Discobolus is one reason for this modern stylistic principle when it comes to restoration work.

When my professor asked us to identify the correct original sculpture that day on the museum tour, it was the sword that pinged me as wrong first, but zeroing in on the core of the sculpture, the torso, is what revealed the true statue underneath.

This notoriously difficult to please professor was very proud when I blurted out, "It's the Discus Thrower!" and the high-octane serotonin I got from his approval probably could have propelled me into the sun that day, and brought to you Yet Another Moment of Ancient Sculpture Pedantry.

[astermath]

nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

tag list <3

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[writinghotchner]

I know this is a weird request so please don't feel like you have to fill it lol. Hotch x Reader fic where Reader has a type of disability? Whether its like crippling depression/anxiety or something else, your choise! Something cute and fluffy preferably but that's also up to you!

no such thing as a "weird request" to me, i'm insane <3 and thank you for requesting!!

fandom: criminal minds pairing: hotch x fem!reader rating: E tags: depression, mentions of anxiety

you're on the couch wrapped in the thickest blanket you could find when you hear the front door open and close.

usually, you'd greet your boyfriend at the door, kiss him, ask him about his day, discuss dinner plans and all the usual adult things an adult couple does.

but today you can't make yourself move. that usual spark of joy that lightening strikes its way through your spine when you know he's home isn't there. the excitement to run to the front door to kiss him stupid like you would normally do isn't there. what's there, though, is the soul numbing feeling of absolutely nothingness. you don't feel sad, you don't feel happy, you quite literally feel numb- nothing. so you don't move.

if aaron notices, he doesn't say anything. instead, he makes his way over to you and leans over the back of the couch to kiss your blanket covered head. he doesn't say anything, and you surely don't say anything. you hear him shuffle by, assuming he's going to the bedroom to change out of his suit like he normally does.

a few minutes later, he reappears in black sweatpants and a basic plain white t-shirt. he sits at the end of the couch and lifts you feet onto his lap and gives them a little squeeze.

you've been together long enough for him to know that this is just something that happens. nothing necessarily triggers it, and he knows he didn't do anything wrong so he's not quick to jump on you and ask questions and plead to know how to "fix it". you're beyond thankful for that. you discussed how bad your depression can get when you first got together a few years ago and he completely understood. of course he did, after finding out everything this man had been through, of course he knows a thing or two about being depressed.

"have you eaten today?" you hear him ask, the blanket covering your entire head making it sound like he's underwater.

you want to answer him. you want him to know you aren't ignoring him and that it's not his fault, even if he knows and understands, the anxiety of it all makes it all crush your insides a little bit more.

one day he's going to get sick of this and leave.

after a beat, you unwrap the top half of yourself from your cocoon and stare up at the ceiling and then eventually look over at him. he flicks you a comforting smile as he presses his thumbs into the arches of your socked feet.

you shake your head 'no' at him and he nods his head. "are you hungry?"

you shrug, barely, but he sees it.

"okay," he says softly leaning up, resting his elbows on his thighs. "if i make us something, will you try to eat?"

you stare at him. he waits a second before adding, "you don't have to eat if you don't want to, but i'm going to make you a plate anyway, okay?"

you blink at him, and nod slightly. he gives your foot one last squeeze and gets up to head to the kitchen.

you turn your eyes back to the tv that's been playing in the living room this entire time. you aren't watching it, you truly have no idea what's even on, your eyes not focusing enough to process or care what it is. you barely even register that there's sound coming from it.

you're not sure how long it's been, but hotch comes back with two plates in his hands and sets them down on the coffee table. he sits down on the floor and scoots your plate over towards you. there's not much food on it. a couple pieces of steamed broccoli, a scoop of mashed potatoes and a pathetic excuse of a piece of meat. you stare at it, willing your brain to just let you move and want to eat it.

"it's not much, but it was the quickest thing i could throw together in the air fryer," he tells you. "well, the broccoli was steamed in the microwave...i cheated a little." he shoots you a cheesy grin that you barely catch out of the corner of your eye. "and the mashed potatoes are instant. don't tell anyone though."

it's funny how moments like this make you fall more in love with him. he knows you're hurting, would stop the world and do whatever it took to get the pain to stop, but he acts normal around you, keeping light conversation with you and not trying to get you to "cheer up" like most people would try to do.

you're still staring at the plate, an internal screaming match taking place inside the entirety of your brain when you realize he's still talking. you have no idea what he just said, but he's still got that goofy grin on his face as he shoves a piece of broccoli in his mouth.

something inside of you loosens, the vice grip lets go of your soul for a moment and you huff a small laugh at him.

"are you laughing at me or the fact that jj accidentally broke reid's nose?"

okay, wait a second. what?

"what?" you ask, your voice a little hoarse but full of complete amusement.

he laughs, a full toothy laugh that always makes your heart swell. "yeah," he finishes chewing and swallowing his food and turns to look more at you. "reid was trying to show her some new magic trick he'd just learned and, i'm not entirely sure how it happened, but it startled jj enough to where she accidentally elbowed his face. right in the nose."

you blink incredulously at him before you shift yourself up on your elbow. "is he okay?"

hotch nods. "yeah, he's fine. after the initial shock of it, they all started laughing."

the conversation tapers off and your eyes go back to the plate thats slowly getting cold. hotch is nearly done with his. he pats the floor next to him, "join me?"

and so you do. you really have to make your limbs work and it's such an energy draining task that just makes you angry because why in the world do you have to keep fighting with yourself to literally just...live. but, you shake that thought out of your head and melt yourself off the couch and land on the floor next to him; it makes him laugh again and that seems to help dissipate even more of the darkness leaching to your spine.

"want me to feed you?" you know he's joking, he wiggles his eyebrows at you as he says it, making airplane noises with his own fork as he wiggles it around the air to your mouth.

you actually laugh at that and the smile he gives you is so beautiful you nearly, actually cry.

"i love you." is all you say. you rest your head against his shoulder and slide your plate over in front of you and take a bite of the mashed potatoes. the first bite always kick starts your brain, making you realize just how hungry you are so you quickly scoop up another forkful and nearly shovel it in your mouth.

"i love you too, honey." he tells you and you turn a little to kiss his sleeved shoulder.

"it's because of the steamed broccoli, isn't it? that always gets the girls all wild for me."

the rest of whatever evil lurking inside you breaks and you snort laugh at him, throwing your head back onto the couch cushion.

[icannot3]

"Prom Night"

Peter Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 4.2k (a biggie, sorry)

Warnings/notes: NSFW BELOW THE CUT (just the standard stuff, yk?) P in V penetration. Oral (male receiving). Lots of plot before. Despite the title, both Peter and the reader are adults.

Taglist: @taintandviolent @lilthbunny (comment if you'd like to be added!)

..........

The music is loud, and the atmosphere radiates unadulterated exultation. Like any other traditional party event, bright neon lights illuminate the otherwise dimmed area. The dining hall of the institution looked nothing like it had before. The entire area had been cleared out besides the tables full of delectable treats to snack on in the corner. Students were laughing and dancing to the beat of the music, most very uncoordinated, but that didn't matter. For the first time ever, the young mutants got the chance to feel like normal teenagers. It brought you so much joy to know that it was your idea to have an annual prom at the school, this being the very first and very successful attempt at doing so.

You could see a few students of yours beginning to come out of their shells. Many of them never got the chance to participate in such a social setting. You can tell they felt moderately awkward at the start but slowly allowed themselves to enjoy. This prom was much different than the ones you attended in high school. You always remember them to be boring but customary, hence why everyone still went for the hell of it. Part of you wished you could have had a lively experience like this one, knowing all too well how different you felt in the crowd then, as a secret mutant scared of what others may do if they knew.

But that's all in the past, and truly you could not be happier as chaperone. In the crowd of people, you see bodies being pushed to the side as an undetectable figure zipps past them. You know it's Peter, one, because obviously his powers, and two, because the blur is quickly making its way to the snack bar. Who else would be so desperate to get to them? You giggle at his determined feat. It isn't long before he runs up to you, a plate with a large, overstacked assortment of cake and cookies in hand.

Peter places his free hand on your back, his hand warm against it. "Geez, you look like a supermodel!" Like any school dance, everyone was expected to dress to the nines. All funded by the Professor through the kindness of his very rich heart. The staff is expected to wear nothing short of this, everyone in expensive formal gowns to match the children. Peter's outfit makes him look exceptionally handsome, even though he's already loosened his silver tie sloppily from around his neck. Other than that, his suit is black with a white undershirt that compliments his silver accents. To be real, the color is his trademark. Quite literally, "Quicksilver."

You pull him into a hug he reciprocates as much as he can with only one arm. "Thanks, Quicky. You clean up nicely, too!" Your finger comes below his tie, playfully flicking it upwards to tease him. "You seem like you're already excited for the after party?"

His head jerks back, and Peter lets out a dramatic sigh. "You have no idea how uncomfortable these feel. Sure, women have to wear heels, but I really think that this is the equal evil we should also acknowledge. Plus, you guys get to shamelessly take them off at the dance because everyone understands. Xavier is absolutely insane for wearing this every day." He continues to passionately ramble about the inconvenience, referring to it as "neck prison." You cackle at everything he says because it's Peter. He's naturally always funny. Or perhaps it's your blossoming feelings for him that make you feel this way.

Sometimes, you wonder if Peter is just naturally a touchy person or if there's something more behind his lingering nudges and holds. You certainly entertain it regardless, allowing him to hug and hold you as he pleases. His fingers are delicately playing with the stray hairs against your neck, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He has to know how crazy he drives you.

The timing feels perfect as a slow song comes on through the loud speakers. You silently prayed to whatever DJ God there may be for giving such a great opportunity. You hold his hand in yours, his plate being disregarded elsewhere as you take him to the dancefloor. "You gotta dance with me, I never got to do this with anyone in high school! Please?" Your request accidentally seems more like a demand with your excitement, but he knows you'd never make him do anything he doesn't want. He grins, keeping your hand in his own and wrapping his arm around your waist before swaying to the music.

You're friends. That's all. There's nothing more to it, and there never will be. You conclude that you'd simply have to die with these feelings because certainly they aren't ever going away. It's been years already that you've pined for him. Years that the two of you have been stuck by some imaginary friendship glue. Many of your days are together, you teach gym class with him. When you go on missions, Peter compliments your mutations so well that it's rare you're ever separated. He's what you would call your platonic soul mate.

But that platonic bit feels really out of place when he gives you a look that makes your heart ache. You decide that looking at his eyes that are staring deeply into your own is not helping subside your confidential feelings. Part of you wants to read more into his actions and convince yourself that he feels the same way, but you know that only leads to a shit-ton of misery once you realize that his feelings are still unrequited. So, instead, you rest your forehead against his chest and think about things that don't make you flustered. Like what you're doing tomorrow for training and not how his new cologne for the occasion smells stupidly nice.

The song picks up the beat for the chorus, and either Peter secretly takes dance classes on the low, or he's just naturally this smooth. His hand lifts yours up in the air as he encourages you to twirl. You do, the dress you wear swaying around with your spinning. He brings you back to his chest and then decides to continue to baffle you by dipping you to the floor. You lean back, trusting him fully as he pulls you back up.

By the time the song is over, the two of you are laughing, and you feel as if you can't breathe. "Didn't know you had that in you, Maxipad." The nickname is from an inside joke that you remind him of because it embarrasses him. You used it in hopes that it would make your own pitifully flustered state less noticeable.

"Please, all of those arcades I played Dance Evolution at growing up had me ready." He made his way back to his snack stash, grabbing a cookie. "Even though I was more of a Pin-ball guy. I still have record scores at the arcade in the town I grew up in."

You steal a cookie off of his plate, the bitter-sweet chocolate delight melting on your tastebuds. "You still need to show me what an arcade is like. Maybe we could hit that one." Previously, you had a conversation where you revealed that you've never been to an arcade in the past, which left Peter deeply offended. He vowed to take you to one soon, but the two of you as of lately had found yourselves so busy there was simply never a time.

"Damnit! You're right." His expression of distraught quickly changed to that of a happy one with an idea. "There's an arcade machine in my room I can introduce you to! I mean, it's nowhere near as fun as the entire arcade experience, but-"

"- That sounds perfect, Peter." You didn't even have to be convinced.

You stayed at the dance until it ended for another hour, and Peter seemed to be rather eager to get back, considering the cleaning was going to be a group effort with all of the teachers; but he took the initiative to do it all himself instead of waiting and finished it all within a minute. Not that anyone was complaining, though. It was well past midnight, and class would still be resumed tomorrow at the normal crack-ass of dawn. Any sane person would pass up Peter's offer and reschedule for another time. But not you, you were so unimaginably happy to get invited to his room that the offer still remained as good as gold.

He sped you to his room, and it was everything you expected. For a man almost in his thirties, his decor resembles that of a teenage boy. This ranges from posters, snacks, and scattered piles of clothes on the floor. You can sense his immediate panic due to him not preparing for your presence. Frantically, he zips through his room, and a moment later, it's spotless. You laugh at this. "You know you don't have to do that for me. Mine is probably way worse."

You saunter over to the large arcade machine in the corner, touching the plastic buttons. "Did you buy this thing?" It's clearly a very expensive piece of equipment, gathering by its newer looking condition. Peter comes up behind you, chuckling to himself. "Nah, bro." His response made you certain that he'd stolen it, likely in his youth when he was a bit more scandalous.

Turning around to face him, you notice he's rather close. As much as he was earlier, except clearly not for the reason of dancing. You can't help but remember how low his hand was against your back. If he'd moved it even an inch further, he would have been touching you much more sensually. You wouldn't mind if he had.

As a matter of fact, you gathered that it's strange he'd invite you up so late. Yes, it's Peter, and he's never been the predictable type. But never in the years that you've known him has he invited you to spend quality time together at one in the morning, in his bedroom.

Once again, you shake yourself out of your lingering thoughts, ashamed. You're so ridiculously horny that it's embarrassing. He remains where he stood, playing with the strap of your dress.

"That's gotta be uncomfortable. Do you want something else to put on?" His thumb grazes over the red mark where the strap had been rubbing against your shoulder. Before you can even answer the question, he's searching through his dresser. He pulls out a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and sweats. Not wanting to be rude, you take the clothes and step in his personal bathroom for privacy. Looking in the mirror gave you a small boost of confidence. Your makeup looks still wonderfully intact, and the dress you picked hugs your curves beautifully. It makes you feel so elegant that you almost feel sad to take it off.

But you can't. When your fingers give the zipper on your back a hard tug after many other failed attempts, you begin to panic. The fabric must be seriously jammed for this to happen. You've never had this much of a struggle taking off an article of clothing. For over ten minutes, you desperately try, breaking a sweat as you do so. That sadness from earlier changes to desperation as you try to then pull the dress over your head. You are unable to do this. It's too tight and won't even come over your shoulders.

Peter must have started to grow concerned with your absence. Hearing a knock on the door makes you jump. His voice from the other side is quiet. "You alright in there, bud?"

Your hands cover your face in embarrassment. You feel like you want to scream. It takes you a moment to awnser, fighting yourself on what to do next. There's a small window in the bathroom you think is large enough to jump out of, but considering your mutation is not flight and the fact that you're on the second floor makes you decide against it.

Finally, deciding to fess up, you stand at the door, opening it. "I'm stuck. My zipper is stuck." Clearly having no issues himself, he is already in his own comfortable clothing. You can see his suit disregarded on the floor in the corner of the room, that godforsaken tie on top of the pile. You know you can trust Peter to help you. He's not a creep. Not anything besides the occasional childish sex joke.

Peter laughs, motioning for you to turn around. "Geez, it seems like you just want a reason for me to undress you." You turn your head back to give him an eye roll, but accept his help and lift your hair up to assist him. His hands are gentle as he fights with the zipper. He seems to struggle as well, fiddling with the fabric for quite a while before finally you feel the sweet release of the restrictive clasp coming undone. After hours, you can finally breathe.

He'd just undone the top, but his hands stayed in their spot. Tingles went down your spine as he continued to slowly bring the zipper down. It was getting low. When you put it on earlier, it went all the way down to your ass before it was zipped. Right before he gets to that point, you stop him with your hand. Turning around to face him, you awkwardly smile; his hand still behind you.

Ultimately, you had enough, placing your hand on his chest. You aren't brainless. That was definitely a signal. "Peter, did you really invite me up here to play games? If not, that's fine, but I'm kinda dying from anticipation right now. Sometimes, I feel like you're leading me on. But then you do things that make me think we're just friends, and it's really confusing. And I have no problem with just being friends, but it's the middle of the night, and I'm standing in your bedroom half naked instead of playing Pong like we said we would and -"

He ends your rambling by pulling you close, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. You deeply inhale, taking a moment to register what's going on before kissing back. It feels heavenly, like drifting down a lazy river that doesn't have any kids in it relaxing. Like, your brain is slowly going to mush and becoming more and more useless as you continue, but you're totally okay with becoming a human vegetable if that means you can just keep going. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the connection. He tightens his arms around your back before lifting you up off of the ground, slowly twirling you around in a circle while in the air. This makes you snicker against his lips, which he reciprocates. The happy moment makes your brain foggy with admiration.

"I'm an absolute loser for not doing this sooner." Peter lays you down on the bed, joining beside you. Your legs hang off of the edge of the furniture. "I really, really like you. I have for a while. When we decided to have a prom I wanted to ask you to go with me so bad and be all cheesy about it, but I pussied out so I decided that the next best option was to get Jean and Raven to teach me how to dance so that we could." His words are being sputtered out like rapid-fire. "Please tell me I'm not finally saying this too late, and you haven't met someone else?" His voice is soft, laced with hints of doubt. He brings his fingers up to your hair, brushing it off of your cheek and behind your ear.

Your discomposure becomes all the more obvious as you pick at your nails, fiddling with your hands anxiously. This entire moment is more than you could even fathom in the past, like a fairy-tale coming to life. He likes you. He has liked you! Every pent-up feeling you've ever had for years has been reciprocated. "Peter -." You pause, trying to think on what to say. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. You wouldn't be late even if you had waited another few years to tell me that. I've liked you for a while."

Peter rolls himself on top of you, pressing multiple kisses to your face. He starts with your forehead, traveling his lips quickly down your nose, then rapidly on your cheeks. The affection feels pleasantly smothering. Finally, with one last final peck on the space between your brows, he connects himself to your lips once more. It's even better than the first time, giving you more of an electric sensation.

You grow heated, the sensation making you feel aroused. The kisses on your end grow more open-mouthed and inviting. When his tongue slips inside hungrily, you whimper, reveling in the feeling. This only encourages Peter more as he lifts his arm behind your back, making it arch while gliding his other hand down your torso. He groans delightfully, feeling your curves with fervor.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" His voice is deep with longing. His tongue laps against the sensitive flush of your neck. He finds the spot that makes you gasp the loudest, sucking the area just enough to make a small mark of his presence. You definitely don't ever want him to stop. He continues to go lower, trailing down between your breasts. Peter pulls you up, sliding the already half-off dress down your shoulders. His face turns bright red as a gawks at the sight of your bare chest. His finger rolls over your soft bud as he feels it harden beneath it. Squeezing your soft mound, he plays with you for just a little longer before connecting his lips to yours. There's a certain gentle urgency in his touch that brings you to an otherworldly place. Nothing else matters in this moment besides his hand that's slowly coming up your thigh. You can feel yourself already slick with arousal as you squeeze your legs together for some kind of friction. Peter senses this, using his hand to spread you apart as much as he can with your still clothed bottom-half.

He cups your center with his palm, rubbing over the area. His fingers curl inside of your folds, the ghost of a touch teasingly going over where you need him most. You mewl desperately for him, grinding into his hand. He grins against your neck, chuckling to himself. "So wet for me already? That's extremely hot. Have you ever gotten this worked up for me before, when you're all alone?"

He finally rubs slow circles against your clit, causing your eyes to screw shut with ecstacy. You can only bring yourself to nod as a response, finding yourself physically unable to speak in such a state. His hard-on is pressing against your leg. You can tell he's just as desperate as you are. Taking your hand, you press it against his chest to signal him to stop. His movements coming to an end leave you with a sense of longing as you get up, but quickly, you remove the rest of your dress and allow it to fall to the floor. Fervently, you slide down his pants and boxers. His cock springs to life after no longer being restricted by the confines. His tip is already leaking precum. The craziest thing about this entire ordeal is how natural it feels, but perhaps that's because of how often you find yourself imagining it.

Peter swallows, knowing where you're going with this as you wrap your hand around his shaft. You squeeze him lightly in your hand, testing the waters by giving a few slow pumps while watching his reactions. His face contorts in pleasure as he leans back on his elbows. He refuses to look away, fascinated by the sight of you. You experimentally lick from the bottom of his length to the tip, swirling your tongue around it. The taste is actually quite nice, faintly sweet. You suck his tip once more before finally bobbing your head down, taking as much of him as you can. It's only a little more than halfway before you can feel him against the back of your throat. You have to hold back gagging from the sensation. Peter lets out a deep groan, saying your name like it's his mantra. As you continue, his groans grow more needy. His hips instinctively thrust upwards, causing your eyes to water as he fucks your throat. A part of you grows embarrassed, knowing the tears in your eyes and swollen lips are not the greatest sight to see. But Peter trains his eyes on you, mesmerized.

He pulls you off of him, taking off his shirt before aligning himself with you. You look down and admire his toned muscles, stroking them curiously. It's wonderful. He feels and looks like one of those majestic Greek statues. Not the weird ones with small dicks and missing noses. Peter's cock teasingly rubs between your wet folds, brushing against your sensitive clit. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to go inside. He begins to push his tip in, slowly bottoming out. When he finally does, he gasps, squeezing your hips. The feeling is delectable as he stretches you out so perfectly. You can feel your walls fluttering around him. Nodding your head, you signal for him to continue.

His pace quickens fast, and Peter pulls one of your legs up as he thrusts to go deeper. His eyes are trained on your expression, trying to find the perfect spot to hit in order to fully satisfy you. When he achieves this, the upward curve of his dick rubbing an area that makes your eyes practically roll to the back of your skull, he drills you just like that into the mattress. You find yourself unable to hold back the unholy noises you had no idea you could make. Pleasure overwhelming enough to make you mentally check out.

You begin feeling an all too familiar intense fondness in your abdomen. It's like a tital wave threatening to spill over. You grab Peter's shoulders, pulling him close. He peppers kisses along your collarbone, thrusts getting more uncoordinated and sloppy. He's getting close too, you can tell by his labored breathing and moans that are growing slightly more high-pitched and frequent. His hand reaches down, buzzing against your throbbing bud to finish you off. Your eyes shoot wide open, not expecting that suprise. Sure, you've seen him use this technique in the past to break glass, but never had you imagined that he could do this. He pumps once more deeply inside of you, sending you over the edge. Blinding pleasure explodes throughout your body, sending you into an oblivion. Peter pulls himself out, cumming on the soft skin of your stomach and letting out a guttural moan.

He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his head in the crook of your shoulder. Sweetly, his hand runs through your hair, a string of unintelligible compliments being whispered in your ear. "You're so perfect, baby. Never, never, never ever letting you go. Never. Don't ever leave me." Those are a few of the many you manage to make out. You tightly embrace him, allowing yourself to relax against him.

You feel a sudden shift, and in the blink of an eye you find yourself wearing the clothes he gave you earlier, all cleaned up. He is instantly laying beside you again, fully dressed, with a blanket covering the two of you. He pulls you against him as he lays on his back. Smiling, you trace small circles onto his chest. "We should do that more often, huh?"

He nods excitedly, pulling you in tightly. "Oh hell yeah, we've got years of being deprived we gotta make up for."

[spearxwind]

could we get an infodump abt the new broken horizon lore? how i found you was through extinction, so glad to see them back!!!

Absolutely!

The world of Broken Horizon is a planet (that I've yet to name) which has two major sentient species on it: humans and dragons (or khevirs in their own language). Both species coexisted side by side in relative peace (as much peace as two equally matched apex predators would have).

At some point in their history, Cercerion, a dragon with enough power to become a God, goes haywire and starts creating and becoming storms that span almost the entirety of the planet. These storms are devastating electrical hurricane cells that are charged enough to create their own magnetic fields, the incessant lightning rain is enough to literally rip chunks of earth, even mountains, out of the ground and earth and keep them in the air because of these magnetic fields. This is obviously DEVASTATING to the planet.

Eventually, a joint mutual effort from both humans and dragons is able to take Cer down, striking him down hard enough to bury him deep in the earth to sleep for ages, but the impact is so sudden that he cannot dispel the storms he created and loses control of them, leaving them to eternally roam the planet sowing destruction in their paths. There are six in total. (They are much less dangerous than when he IS in control though and the lightning rain is reduced significantly. But they are still MASSIVE hurricanes)

After this event, humans freak the fuckkkk out and in true human fashion decide that dragons are dangerous and must be exterminated. A massive war breaks out between both species where they try to obliterate each other (this is known as the Great Dragonslaying Era). Both sides develop technology to stay on par with each other (humans develop insane machinery, and dragons develop energy manipulation).

The war rages on for years, but true to their nature they an never truly best each other, and the war ends MANY years later in a shaky stalemate from both sides. This would be the present day.

Since the war has only recently ended, there are very few laws that regulate dragons and their rights in human territories, and viceversa. Using dragons as fighting dogs in gladiator arenas and treating them as animals is 'illegal', but extremely common in human cities. That would be the situation where our Extinction crew find themselves in.

Despite all the animosity towards each other, there are a great many people who want to uphold the peace and want to peacefully coexist and even work together (this is the basis for dragon piloting); but there are also extremists on both sides who still believe the others should be exterminated: humans who consider dragons a threat and a pest and no more than animals, and dragons who are unhappy with being 'tamed' and who clamor for a return to being ruthless deadly beasts.

----

Honestly, the setting of Extinction itself isnt that much changed! It's mostly been tweaked to be a lot more cohesive with the worldbuilding and the world's history. I have added a bunch more in the aspect of dragonflight and races and planes because I think its cool as hell. The gladiator side of it is only one fraction of the world.

[angelatmidnight1]

I just started Baldur's Gate 3 and would love some ler! tword hesdcanons for Astarion if you're feeling inspired? I saw some of his lines on YouTube Shorts and he's literally the reason I'm now playing, Lord help me. 😭🤣 I'm super early game(like, just met him, Shadowheart and Gale) but I do know what species he is, and know a certain something he tries at camp at some point- 👀

I will definitely write a tword fic for him at some point because the need for him to wreck me is strong, but some headcanons to encourage me to keep going to see the story, as I adjust to the gameplay and how it works would be so appreciated! ❤️ Again, only if you feel inspired for it though, no pressure and I hope you're staying hydrated lovely! 😊

A/N: Sure! Astarion's the reason I bought the game too. I saw a few clips of him on TikTok and added the game to cart 😅 I have a reader/Astarion fic somewhere in my drafts, but please tag me whenever you create yours. I'd love to see :D

Anyways, here's ler!Astarion. I hope I captured his personality okay. I'll add a tiny warning that this may come off a tad spicy, cause it's Astarion haha, but it isn't NSFW.

Ler!Astarion Tickle Headcanons

“Darling, you’re ticklish? Aha, how adorable.”

Astarion’s had a couple centuries to practice the art of gentle, and sometimes ticklish, touches. Of course he takes up the opportunity to work his craft. 

He’ll say the sweetest things to beckon his lee closer, with fleeting touches along sides and hips. “Come here, my dear. I promise I’ll be as gentle as a babe. Just a bit closer, hm?”

More words, sweet as honey, until he has his lee pinned under him. No matter the position, he wants physical contact the whole time. “Mm, I always did enjoy how you looked beneath me.”

He loves it when his lees become shy and flustered. It encourages his flirtatious antics even more. But, if they don’t? That’s okay. He loves a good challenge. 

Astarion’s touch is deliberate, but light and teasy. He takes his time to find the spots that make his lee squeal, and claws over it with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “My, you are a sensitive little thing, aren’t you?”

Eye contact is huge with Astarion; he drinks in his lees’ every reaction to his tickles. Every little giggle, gasp, squeak. His lee has never looked more beautiful, and he’s sure to tell them just that.

Speaking of drinking, it’s too tempting not to think about all of the blood pumping through his lee’s veins while he tickles them. He won’t drink without permission, but that doesn’t mean he can’t indulge in other ways.

“I could eat you right up, darling. And you know what? I think I will..” 

Astarion knows how to use his fangs with just enough pressure to tickle, and if he’s especially close with his lee, nowhere is safe from his nibbles. 

His favorite place to nibble are necks, but he’s also fond of ribs, hips, and thighs. He’ll love if his lee is especially sensitive to his light biting. “Gods, you are delectable. And those precious little giggles of yours just make you all the more sweeter.~” 

He could tease and tickle his lee all night, but if they truly need a break, he’ll ease off…just expect him to be a lil’ pouty. 

“Stop? Already? But, I was having so much fun. And I can tell that you were, too. Must we end our playtime so soon? …Oh, fine. Just promise I won’t have to wait too long before I can have you again.”

Of course, Astarion doesn’t always have to have an easy time with his lees. He loves it when they’re stern or, if anything, when they don’t want to admit how ticklish they are.

“Pft, if you’re not ticklish, then I’m not a vampire. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find it rather cute. You can look a beast dead in its eye, so long as it doesn’t wiggle its claws at you, hah.”

He, like most, if not all vampires, loves a good hunt. He can and will pursue obstinate lees for fun. Having stealth on his side is a huge advantage. 

His fancy, airier voice turns growly when he’s on the hunt. And, those honeyed words become devilish taunts. 

“You might want to run faster, darling. I’m right behind you.~ Perhaps if you surrender, I’ll be merciful.” 

Astarion gets a huge ego boost if he manages to get a stubborn lee laughing. "My name sounds wonderful on your lips. But, I would love to hear a 'please'."

If he has to hunt his lee down, it'll be awhile before he lets them go. "You're all mine, tav. Laugh for me~."

[nylwnder]

yours

a/n: I MISS HIM YOU GUYS I FUCKING MISS HIM SO FUCKING MUCH LIKE WDYM WE CANT HAVE BENNY CABER AND HIM???? WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNN

pairing: luke schenn x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT, yet never actually having p in v because he's literally a tease, possessiveness, oral (f receiving), fingering, technically exhibitionism, pool party, willy being willy

word count: 2.8k

taglist: @shoot-the-puck, @11livpangburn , @domi-max , @boqvistsbabe , @sweetiet , @p1tstop , @occasionallyaurora , @laurenairay, @fallinallincurls, @andrea9

series masterpost

the sun has been glaring since the early morning rise. although the weather network cannot confirm this, you are highly convinced any skin that reached the bright rays of light when you woke up were subject to a burn straight from the pits of hell.

you might have been overreacting, but that’s truly how this weather made you feel. summer was certainly not your favourite season for this exact reason — and the bugs, which were also very much present on this boiling day.

luke on the other hand, thought it was a gorgeous morning to go for a run. you kissed him extra passionately before he left in fear he might melt before he could even turn back to the house.

while he was gone, you were eyeing the pool luke had added in the backyard. your body was craving a dip into water.

you had let the water submerge you around the middle of the pool for a bit before heading to the side to float against the walls. you had brought out a cocktail for yourself and had it set beside you on top of the cement ground as you had music playing in the background from a tiny speaker.

schenner came back not too long after, stripping himself from his clothes the minute he saw where you were. your head was thrown back and your eyes were closed. so when luke jumped into the pool you were sincerely startled by the splash.

“jesus christ luke, you're gonna give me a heart attack!”

“im sorry, love. just wanted to accompany you.”

you smile at the sight of his grin. that stupidly attractive grin.

you roll your eyes at him and let him give you a kiss. afterwards, luke did a few swimming strokes to cool down his body temperature as well. he comes back over to you as you watched him. he reaches over for the drink to your left and takes the last sip.

you didn't really pay mind to your stolen beverage, as your eyes were focused on his mouth. that being said, you wanted to stay out here with him so you offered to go inside and make more.

“come back here.” luke says, grabbing your hips and pulling you back down to him.

“we have to keep ourselves hydrated, remember.” you said, even though you know alcohol isn't on the preferred list of liquid resources. you allowed yourself to wrap your arms around his neck.

he smiles, “yeah but you’re all i need right now.” he says, giving you a few kisses. you give in, letting yourself hang beside him and talk about whatever comes up.

“its actually great weather for a barbecue today,” you began, letting your fingers play with the water around his hands as you spoke. “why don’t we invite the group over? i'm craving a buffet feast, to be honest.”

“yeah, sure! that’s a good idea, i don't mind a little seasoned steak.” he said with a smile.

you return the smile. “sounds good. i'll call them over.”

you made the move to get out of the pool before luke pulls you back to him again. “i need to get something out of the way first.” he says, grabbing the back of your neck to bring you into a kiss.

your lips curved into a smile before a playful shriek erupted out of you as luke had brought you out of the water to sit on the ground above.

he was quick to discard your bikini bottom, and bring you right to the edge of the pool. your breath hitched at the back of your throat as his face began to inch closer and closer to your core as he laid lingering kisses on your thighs. his hovering breath caused a shiver down your spine. ironic considering how hot it is outside.

once his mouth attached to his desired target you couldn't help but let out a loud moan. nobody could run you to an orgasm, in any way, like luke can. your clit throbbed against his tongue.

his tongue made quick work over you. flicking and sucking at your clit before lapping at your hole as he groaned at the taste of you. his nose bumped deliciously into your nub and you bit your lip and threw yourself back. “look at me sexy, wanna see that gorgeous face.” he says, his lip grazing your bundle of nerves.

you prop yourself up with your elbows to watch him. your body was tensing within minutes, thighs attempting to close around luke’s head as deep pleasure curled in your stomach.

he let out a low groan when you pushed his head further into you in an attempt to roll your hips. you were trying your best to chase the orgasm that was only minutes away. schenner teased your bud with his teeth and kept his lips wrapped around it in order to suck hard. that was merely enough to have you unravelling directly into his mouth.

“now you can call them.” luke says, grinning.

your chest was heaving as he got out of the pool to sit beside you. “give me a minute—” he kisses your head with a snicker as you try your best to regulate your breath. “fuck” you mumbled.

—

“you’ve got some competition to hold up to.” mitch says as he enters the door. you couldn't help but laugh.

“oh yeah?” luke responds. mitch nodded, “i've had some preeeeeetty fun pool parties myself so… we’ll see,” the goofball grins, holding an inflated beach ball in his arms, as he walks away and steph shakes her head at her husband-to-be.

the rest of the couples began to arrive as well as solo players, and some adorable pups. john was kind enough to bring some extra meat for the barbecue with others bringing appetisers, drinks and sides besides the ones you were already preparing in the kitchen.

luke began firing up the grill with ryan and john as willy picked at the appetisers you were placing on a plate to take out. the rest of the group outside were already mingling with each other.

“did you not have breakfast?” you asked humorously as you watched how the boy in front of you was basically salivating at the food around the two of you. just like the two pups beside him.

“i did eat something… but it wasn't really edible-” he began before giving you a giggle, “you know...”

you scoffed before sharing the snicker with him. you slapped him on the arm playfully.

“help me take them out, you manwhore.” you joked. he laughed, “mm love, you don’t even know.”

you rolled your eyes. but you found william funny for that exact reason. he’s confident with himself and not shy to talk about anything with the people he finds himself comfortable with. despite all that, he is a really kind man and you appreciated his well-roundedness.

“haven't had a good home cooked meal in a min. i’m eating good tonight.” auston said as he stood in front of the starters. the group also crowded over the available food quickly.

“yeah cause all he gets is take out.” mitch chirped.

“that's how much we love you, bud.” luke joked, making them all snicker.

everyone entertained themselves with the many different apps and cocktails available. some were eating in the pool with inflatable food trays in front of them, with the delicious smell of the cooking meat engulfing their noses.

that being said, the barbecue only produced more heat and it wasn’t long before you began to feel suffocated again. “screw this” you spoke, unzipping your shorts and yanking them down.

“wheeeewwwww take it off!!!!” amber brodie yelled to you from the pool.

you giggled as you unbuttoned the shirt that you had borrowed from luke. taking it off slowly from your shoulders to play into the joke. you were now displaying the lacy bikini that schenner had gifted you in the beginning of summer.

the girls howled and cheered making the dogs bark with them. most of the boys laughing shyly as luke watched with a grin. ryan pats his mate on the back in praise.

“now that's a beautiful woman right there!” one of the girls exclaimed.

you do a quick pose before jumping into the pool. respectfully splashing everyone around you. that being said, luke’s grin began to halter as willy’s eyes started to linger.

you sat beside william in the hopes to catch some of the last snacks he was hostaging. as well as to cuddle with pablo, who was licking willy’s face like his life depended on it. “kept them just for you!” he spoke. “we would be having problems if you didn't.” you said, smirking as you snatched the slider he had in his hand.

the more you stayed in the pool and the more games the group played in the water, the more your boyfriend's eyes burned a hole on the back of willy’s head.

william’s touches were respectful and innocent around your torso or hip. he never moved up, he never moved down, and he never gripped more than he should have. you thought nothing much of it. but his giggling energy and flirty tones around you weren't luke’s favourite sights.

once the meat was ready to be served, declared by jt, william grabbed your arm to help you out of the pool, catching you as your foot nearly slipped on the puddle above. “careful!” he uttered. “oh my hero!” you dramatically declared. the blonde laughs, “seems like those margaritas are starting to hit.” you both giggled. luke was quick to call you over.

you were starving and your stomach felt like it was waiting years for the grilling to complete. but luke grabbed your hand and asked if you wanted to go grab more plates. you nodded, realising you didn't bring nearly enough out.

when you made it to the kitchen you were pulled away from the cabinet by the strings of your bikini bottom. “luke!” you exclaimed as he hid you behind the long and decently tall island.

“what do you want? i'm hungry!!!!” you whined, your body trapped in by his arms. his jaw was clenched, his body tense and his eyes dark.

you know exactly what's got him mad. “honey, you know how he is. that’s just him, he’s a touchy boy! he does it to you all the time too!” you said, reasoning with him as your hands topped his forearms.

his eyes are looking up and out to the backyard and back to you. you turn around to see a blonde quick to turn away. luke isn’t threatened, certainly not, as he knows he can work you better than anyone in every way possible, both sexually and not. that being said, luke isn’t having any of this flirtiness and you should've known there's no reasoning with him. he's possessive, ever since he got his eyes on you. you're his. and god forbid if anyone was thinking about you the way he does. so you're not surprised you're met with silence.

nevertheless, you wouldn't say you didn't like him like this. no. in fact, he was even more cunning in this mood.

his body towered over you and kept you in his hold. his eyes firm on you once again, his hands are quick to part your underwear, ever so gently pushing his finger in your entrance. you bite your lip but you keep eye contact with him.

“luke, luke please,”

“hmm?”

his two fingers slip in easily and pump a bit, but before you could make a response he slips a third and your legs are quick to buck just a bit. his arms grip you tight but you lean into his chest to mask your moan.

his fingers pump in and out of you swiftly, taking no time to curl them against your already wet walls. you kept biting your lips to mask your sounds, in hopes everyone was entertained outside and no one was anywhere inside the house.

luke didn't care. he just wants to hear you crumble in front of him.

“you’re taking my fingers so well, can feel you squeezing them.”

you only mewl in response. your head thrown back.

“you wanna cum, pumpkin?” he asks, his other hand squeezing your hip tightly.

you mentally rolled your eyes at him. he always says it in a mischievous tone and you couldn't help but accept the pet name with open arms. only he could call you pumpkin.

“wanna cum so bad”

“yeah? who do you belong to?”

a sound escaped your mouth as your legs wobbled and your mind more focused on your upcoming orgasm.

“who’s gonna make you cum tonight, tomorrow, and every other day, baby girl?” he asks you, firm in your ear as his fingers caress your breasts before he pinches one of your buds.

“you. only you.”

he hums.

you look up at his eyes, your mouth already agape. “im yours luke. fucking yours.” you stated. internally begging for him to touch your clit as he watched you closely. he waited to, although he was pleased with your words and your scrunched face as he switched his finger movements.

and as the good man luke is, he catches your open lips to bring you into a kiss while he finishes you off by tracing harsh shapes on your clit.

he puts you up on the counter to help your legs gain back their strength after your climax waved over you.

“how about we send everyone home now? i think we still need to talk about this issue some more” you uttered with a whiny tone.

he snickered at you. “i thought you said you’re hungry” your stomach responded to his words before you could. “fine” you huffed, even though your core was agonising for anything but food. he has basically foreplayed you all day.

your fingers are still gripping his hair as his gaze traced your face. you looked beautiful. lips pink and puffy from his own mouth. eyes glossy and sparkly and your hair perfectly framing your flushed cheeks. he smiles and you smile with him. you soften your hands and let him pull you back down to the ground. “will you leave him alone now” you suggest.

“we’ll see.” he says, with a smirk. you couldn't help but smile again.

you both bring out more plates just like luke had mentioned. although bunting noticed the delay and didn't hesitate to mention it.

“where the fuck were those plates? down under?” he uttered, his tone light, of course. as he walked beside you, your eyes darted to him, your glare sharp as you understood what he was technically trying to refer to.

he giggled at your face. “don't worry. nobody saw.”

“and you better not have too.” he shrugged in response but before you could do anything, you were called over by schenner to pick what you wanted to eat.

you sat around with the others and talked like you didn't just cum on the fingers luke is currently sucking sauce off of. and he had nothing but a grin plastered on his face as you dazed off looking at him.

not too long after a selection of desserts were served, the dogs began begging with puppy eyes for their own pieces, a trap in which most of you fell into.

you only found it fair that they had to cuddle you in return. so you sat on the ground letting banksy sit in your lap while pablo jumped on you in order to give your cheeks as many kisses as possible.

luke sat at the table watching you, a smile on his face. willy came to sit beside him. “pablo doesn't do that with just anyone.” willy said, taking a sip of his drink.

“i’ve noticed” luke said with a light chuckle. he took a swig of his own beer as they both continued watching you.

“you have a great girl, man.” the blonde said, patting luke on the shoulder. “pablo clearly agrees.”

luke smiles, turning to look at his teammate's kind demeanour. he knows he doesn't mean any harm, he's not tone dead. but luke doesn't mind making sure people know that you’re with him, and that you are his at the end of the night.

“thanks kid. she really is perfect.” luke said, returning the pat.

“of course!”

—

ryan helped build a fire as the sky began surrendering to the moon. the group that remained circled around it. you had gone to grab another cookie before luke called for you to sit in his lap with his hand. you pressed a kiss to his alcohol stained lips.

william sat beside the two of you and you subconsciously began to give your boyfriend reassuring squeezes on his stirn arm. other times interlacing fingers as you let your body sink deep into his. his arm was wrapped tight around your waist.

that being said, you agreed that the conversation was not over and in fact you sincerely think he needs to solidify who you belong to. in lots of different positions. for as long as the two of you can go.

[ enjoyed reading? join my taglist! : click here <3 ]

[troius]

I just want to say a few things before you get to the end. First up, it's been a pleasure to read your thoughts on the series; like any fan, you have your own unique interpretations and it's always good to read how fans see certain scenes. It's also been fantastic to see fellow fans respond to your posts adding on to what you've written, again bringing your thoughts out more and generating discussion.

Also, seeing your thoughts has made me appreciate scenes and characters I never thought I would -- Yamamoto for instance, who would've thought?! They've also reminded me of why I fell in love with the series as much as I did, from the artwork to the themes to the incredible bonds between the characters. You've reminded me that BLEACH has it's flaws that can sometimes take you out of the story, but when it hits, it 100% HITS! It's a manga that's about the bonds we form, how they can help us overcome challenges and be a source of light in our lives. It's about the ways we overcome grief and the fear of death, whether it's literally fighting your way through it or slowly coming to a state of acceptance as time goes on. It's about the 'hearts' of people, about what they look like and how they're shared between those you choose. I could go on and on, but then this would become an essay and we'd be here all day.

All of this is to say, thank you for choosing to create a Tumblr account and deciding to read the series and give your thoughts along the way. I can't believe you've finally reached the end, it almost feels like I'm saying goodbye to the manga again!! I don't think I'm the only one here who sees you as a big and valued part of the community on here, so I hope you'll be sticking around! :)

Thank you so much Rays! Response under the cut because it went long.

This won't surprise you, but I too have grown in my appreciation for the series over the course of the uh three years that I've run this blog. Bleach has character concepts I've never seen elsewhere. It has moments of storytelling brilliance. It has truly, phenomenally astonishing art.

But more than anything else, I, like you, am impressed by the heart. For a story that's largely about the afterlife, Bleach is shockingly humanistic, locating virtue not in any system of belief, in any group or faction in the various conflicts that provide the setting for the manga, but in people. All people, whether they're our extremely relatable teenage protagonist and his friends, the occasionally sketchy adults in his life, or the various adversaries ranging from evil monsters to supernatural samurai to a regular-ass gang to a foreign apocalypse cult. Bleach never, not once, lets the viewer fall into the comfortable childish space of believing that there's good people and bad people in the world.

There's just people. Sometimes these people want to do bad things, like execute their sisters, or kidnap your girlfriend, or isolate you from your family, or destroy the entire world. Bleach doesn't flinch away from that either. But it (again, very humanistically) locates those bad actions not in the individual human beings, but in our relationships with one another through the systems and structures we've created to organize ourselves.

And yet in the face of the idea that humans do their worst work through other people, that's also where Bleach locates its greatest virtue. Alone, we're nothing. It's the bonds that we have with others that are what make life worth living, that are the source of everything good in this world. And navigating that dynamic, between spiritual bonds and structural shackles...that's really what adult life is all about, isn't it?

Anyhow, my adult life has been greatly enriched by all of you on here. But I'll take the chance to thank you specifically Rays, for being such a source of joy. Your positivity and passion are the sort of thing that makes a humble blogger want to come back for more, and I've deeply enjoyed hearing all of your thoughts, not just on my liveblog, but through your own posts and writing. I'll be sticking around for sure.

[turrondeluxe]

How long do you think mikey stayed in dimension X?

(Personality, I think like a week/weeks, cuz no way it was just a few hours and he already knows so much about the demention)

(And, how does he get months and hours confused?)

(I don't personally think he's been there long as 2 years because that would really mess up a person)

(But if I see an angsty fanfic 🤨(suddenly I ignore everything I said, like 'yea he's been there for 73736383years now' ))

OH I LIKE THIS ASK

im with you on that one actually! i also think he just stayed there for a few weeks. def less than a month. because for someone like mikey, being by his own in an unknown place no matter if he was doing alright, it would still have messed him up of it got too long. he NEEDS interactions with sentient beings that would keep him company and engage with him (looks at mutagen bomb mad max apocalypse mikey). Tho! he would have understood how a lot of things worked around in that dimension just for being there a few hours tbh, taking into consideration that it's a hostile environment for literally anyone who's an outsider. With this i mean, mikey def was forced to be a quick leaner since the first second after stepping trough the portal. ( tho rn im not taking into account mikey being good with kraang tech in general because he just was good with it since the start of the show tbh. i think it has something to do with the brothers actually being related to the kraang because of the milking worm from where the mutagen came from and all but. thats a whole other can of worms to be opened lol)

Plus! the kraang base was not difficult to find at all so mikey probably spend most of his time just checking out the perimeter and a way to get in (this is from where he could have triggered some security stuff and got to fight the kraang that ended up as his skull helmet and limb accessories lmao). It actually even appears as if that's mikey first attempt at getting in to rescue leatherhead.

Also! when they got back for a bit, mikey was actually happy and excited to be back in dimension x! Meaning that he doesn't truly see that place in a bad light MEANING that he doesn't really hold a bad memory of it. MEANING that he didn't stay there by himself long enough for living more traumas in there lmao

About his time confusion, i actually tie that to his adhd because of my own experience with having adhd. The passing of time for me is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT TO KEEP A GRASP ON. By this i mean that it's really hard to tell hours/minutes have passed even when not hyperfixing on an activity, this also adds to mixing up days and weeks together. its hard man. ADDED TO ALL THIS, the fact that the dimension doesn't have an obvious sign of time passing (like day and night) would make mikey keeping up with it, while also just surviving, something of a nearly impossible task.

in conclusion

i still love when people headcanon mikey as staying there for literal years. i live for that angst. him eating kraang because of how hungry he got??? him getting captured by the kraang and getting tortured for months??? him getting to hate the pink color??? good stuff

[bestanimatedmovie]

Choose your favorite!

Time to fly!

Vote in the other polls!

What fans say:

How To Train Your Dragon:

The message was just nice. I have a lot of nostalgia for it. I used to be a huge dragon nerd as a kid and dragons just weren't that prevalent in media here, especially not as friendly figures. I still love HTTYD and it's sequels nowadays.

It was one of my favorite movies as a kid and one of the few movies I watched that wasn't a barbie movie, it's just really cool.

Best movie featuring dragons period. The pure wish fulfillment fantasy of having a highly intelligent fantasy creature companion that can fly and doesn’t mind being ridden like a horse, therefore also the best execution of the dragon rider trope in all of fiction. Extremely funny, adding to the comedy is the fact that only adults have Scottish accents and all the teens have an American accent. So good that even its tv show follow up was decent by extension. The bit where Hiccup is trying to earn Toothless' trust and they start to work together changed me on a fundamental level.

I LOVE IT SO MUCHSHJKBSKHGDK I have a bone dysplasia which causes some bones to be a little bit more hollow and whenever I would feel a pain in my top back, 8 year old me was like ''woah I'm growing wings its my time to fly like toothless'' lol and it was always a dream of mine to fly. Weirdly enough I could relate to toothless because the "not being able to fly but you should be" felt like an allegory to a lot of my life! It gave me hope when he WAS able to after the help of others + the care he always needed + that mechanic wing thing made me feel like with the right ''recipe'' could help me get better too. My favourite scene is the first flight!! I love the animation for it, it makes me feel like im flying through the clouds too! The soundtrack is amazing too, I still cry to the songs.

I could write an entire essay about how much I love this movie, it truly is one of the best films ever made to me. Utterly flawless on both a technical level and a story-telling level. Not to mention the score oh my GOD the score of this movie changed my life. There are too many scenes that are so impactful, but the Forbidden Friendship scene has to be one of the best. Test Drive too.

This is literally my favorite movie of all time. This movie got me through the worst times in my life. It’s about love and friendship and all that lovely goopy stuff and it’s also fucking gorgeous.

THE cinematic masterpiece of our generation. On god.

This movie is an absolute masterpiece, the animation is pretty, the score is perfect, the relationship between Toothless and Hiccup is so sweet, Toothless is absolutely adorable. Definitely one of DreamWork's best films.

It's a beautifully animated movie about an unconventional viking boy named Hiccup finding his place in a world where dragons and vikings are constantly at odds, and how he changes the world around him. The dragon designs are unique and beautiful, and the vikings are larger than life and match the exaggerated setting.

Who on Tumblr DOESN'T want a dragon best friend I ask you. I would kill to have what Hiccup & Toothless have.

It does a brilliant job balancing tropes in a way that subverts and plays into them. There is so much in it for both adults and kids, it doesn't look like other animated films, it feels more grounded and in that realism it becomes so beautiful. The friendship in the film feels very real despite one of the characters being unable to talk! Forbidden Friendship scene is, in my opinion, the greatest scene in the history of cinema. The music, the lighting, the cinematography, the pacing, the emotions, it is practically perfect in every way. I could go on but I think ya get it.

God this movie defined my childhood and it's still so good when I rewatch it now. I'm guessing you'll have had this submitted a good few times bc it goddamn deserves it but. Hiccup is so relatable and !! dragons !! big cute dragons whose animation models are based on cats!! based fr

I have many fond childhood memories of this movie and in particular I loved how my cousin would "talk" for Toothless (cousin was babysitting us when we first watched the movie). Another thing is The SCORE. The music is iconic and awe inspiring to this day. That first time when Hiccup and Toothless fly together and it Works and the score absolutely goes HARD, I loose my breath every time. It's great. Also have you seen Toothless he's an adorable dragon and a badass, what's not to love?

Makes me cry every time because Hiccup and Toothless are such good friends and they love each other and end up as two halves of a boy dragon soulmate sandwich also the music is extremely good who doesn’t like dragons anyway.

It's the story of a beautiful friendship forming between a boy who doesn't fit in and a dragon who is the last of his kind. It's so cute. And it shows positive representation of disability, Hiccup and Toothless become disabled in ways that meaningfully parallel each other. Hiccup makes a prosthetic tail fin! And Toothless is just so cute!

The sound track is amazing

Honestly everything is phenomenal. It has a good use of comedy and an excellent story and character development. There are also countless beautiful and awe-inspiring scenes supported by an amazing score.

Up:

It is a very emotional movie about an old man learning to still enjoy life even though his wife died.

Such a beautiful film about loss

[primojade]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 : 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘.

"the best use of life is love. The best expression of love is time. The best time to love is now." - Rick Warren

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒' 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | As a veteran AR60 player of Genshin Impact, you pride yourself as someone who knows the ins and outs of Teyvat, even studiously completing Spiral Abyss every reset, and having 100% exploration to some, if not all, of the released regions so far. Everything is fun and enjoyable, especially since Sumeru just recently debuted so you still have a lot to do!

All that ends though, when a mysterious passerby pushes you off the building of your university while playing Genshin. But instead of meeting your inevitable end, you find yourself waking up in the very world you were addicted to! 

It's supposed to be a fun dream, right? Something you could laugh at when you wake up? Right?! So, why is that you were back in AR1 with nothing but a dull blade in your inventory?!

…well, at least you still have those 700+ sunsettias and mints, Timmie's fowls…and surprisingly similar game mechanics you used to merely see on the screen before. But what should you do now? Flirt with the Genshin men??? Good lords...

"Welcome to Genshin Impact, Dreamer. Here, we can show you a happier ever after you've never had before…so, ready?"

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | In which you were just innocently playing Genshin in your breaktime and a seemingly psychotic stranger pushed you off the building. The next thing you knew, you clashed heads with a rather apprehenshive Forest Watcher you just saw in your phone screen moments ago—quite literally, in fact.

𝐂𝐖 / 𝐓𝐖 | mention of death (but no death, really); a stranger pushed u off the top building, mention of injuries (but nothing graphic), cursing, brain discussion. Let me know if I missed anything cause its 12 am now lol.

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | you will be given two choices at the end of the prologue! And those choices you will pick will then gonna be branched into different scenarios that will then lead to specific routes :3 also, u can tell how much i like tighnari here lol 😂

masterlist | scene i: argumentum ad hominem | scene ii: argumentum ad ignorantiam

Although you love to read romance novels and fanfics, perhaps you never truly experienced true love for yourself. The ones that they describe as knowing that that person is the one, or feeling the selfless contentment even if your love is not fully returned. 

You observed people around you who are in love with each other; your parents, your friends, and even strangers, when they interact with their loved ones, and to be honest, you longed to experience that as well. 

When that someone was looking at you with warmth, with that special twinkle in their eyes and the smile that was only reserved for you. That exhilarating feeling of being in love…the boundless joy when your love was returned in full.

…And when you told this to the unlikely person you met in your more unlikely journey, he only laughed and ruffled your hair in adoration.

"Love is a fallacy." He simply said as he turned his back to you, his tone certain and sure.

And, just like you, this person didn't know what love is either.

×××

You didn't know if you're merely built differently or fate just decided to poked fun at you because they're bored.

Slowly, you fluttered your eyes open. Immediately, you shut them again as a blinding light glared into them. You tried again opening just one and allowing it to adjust before the other followed. Light filtering from the nearby windows danced on a branch inches from your face. They were interesting to watch in their mindless waving that you absentmindedly wondered if that incident had dumped you in some psychedelic in-between space-time or something.

Your whole body was aching all over and you felt paralyse, unable to move. The seething pain settling in the pits of your stomach, and the hammering ache in your head indicates that you must've hit it somewhere hard. 

As if coming out of a long tunnel, sound starts to be recorded in your ears with increasing intensity. Crackling of fire from a hearth, snapping twigs from the near distant, softly flipping of pages before it stopped…and an increasing volume of a gentle voice saying something nearby.

But before you even try comprehending what they were saying, parts of your brain start discussing the sudden turns of events in your life. And hell, their discussion is making you even more confused.

That's what you get for being so stubborn, [Name]. Your cerebrum accused you.

We were just playing Genshin during our break time! And after our stressful midterms, at that! What's the problem, then? Come to the rescue, your thalamus that is.

Instead of reviewing for your next exam, you went to the rooftop and wasted your time playing Genshin instead? Your cerebellum teased.

And then get pushed around by that psychopath to our death? Your brainstem scoffed in disdain.

Wait. Is it just me or I can't remember anything about that psychopath? Even our conversation with them? Your hippocampus is as confused as you.

Hell! I don't know anymore! The panicking hypothalamus said.

Just shut up, guys. There's something wrong with the person we were part of. Let them collect their thoughts first. Your pons varolii calmly stated.

I'm truly sorry, my brain. You pathetically whimpered when the parts of your brain huffed at you in annoyance. It shouldn't be logically possible, but since nothing that is going on right now is as logical as you liked them to be, you just give up discussing stuff with your brain.

First of all, you had no idea where you were. Second, you felt a soft mattress underneath you, and a fresh wind messing with your hair. But you tried to think over the cloud that seemingly covered your mind, giving yourself time and tried to take slow, even breaths.

Ignoring the annoying parts of your brain, you asked inwardly, what was the last thing you remembered?

You just finished your first batch of exams for your midterms, and you decided to take a break from reviewing by going to the rooftop of the highest building on your university campus. You played Genshin Impact to relax, a favourite video game of yours that you were addicted to for over two years now. You were trying to burn resin by farming artifacts for Tighnari, to whom you may (or may not) recently lost your 50/50 to. 

After that…?

A weird woman, a person you're pretty sure you've never seen before, come up to you. Although cautious of the stranger at first, you remembered that she also played Genshin Impact, and you remembered being elated because you have someone to talk to now about your favourite game! 

Your conversation lasted for almost an hour, before you remembered that you have another exam coming up within ten minutes, to your disappointment. But before you could say goodbye to your "new friend", all of a sudden, she…

You clearly remember her pushing you off the railing! You were caught off guard, so you haven't had the chance to brace yourself and prepare to grab the handle to stop your downfall!

Holy shiznits!

…if you estimated correctly, the height of that building was physically impossible for any human being to survive!

But here you are.

You also remember the darkness swirling in, melting your vision to a world of black. You closed your eyes again as dizziness hit you, gritting your teeth.

You could not recall any sound, then. But you remembered the darkness and the billowing wind slapping your face as you fell, the loud noises, remembering losing the ground under your feet and grasping at nothing, your Genshin Impact game that was still open on your phone screen was suspended in the air. You remembered being thrown from side to side in the middle of a non-existent tunnel, your head violently jerked. You remembered dread and void…

And, then…you did not remember anything anymore.

For a moment, you felt conflicted. Were you already dead? You were sure that that fall was enough to kill you, but is this what the afterlife feels like?! It was as if you were just back in your room, flipping countless books and notebooks, endlessly and tirelessly reviewing for your exams…

HOLY SHIZNITS. YOU DIDN'T MANAGE TO TAKE YOUR AFTERNOON EXAMS—

If you saw that psychopath again, you'll make sure to sue her for attempted murder! And then slapped her for making you fail in your midterm exams!

Feeling an intensifying alarm and hearing your breathing turned ragged, you hastily peeled your eyes open and looked around in desperation.

What you saw was not something you expected, though. You were lying on a surprisingly fluffy bed, next to you was a quaint window, then a writing desk (with an odd globe-like apparatus that was suspiciously vibrating with green energy). The wall was decorated with colourful patterns of butterflies and different plants you find oddly familiar.

You frowned. Where are you? Why are you still alive? Shiznits, nothing makes sense at all! 

There's a small part of your brain that is poking in the deep recesses of your memories. It was telling you to remember that…but remember what, exactly?!

And this room, this familiar room that you were certain you've never been physically in before, were sending cold shivers down your spine. 

In your panic, you hastily props your elbows backwards to support yourself as you sit down. Ignoring the dizziness that slapped your head like a hammer to a nail, you threw the soft blankets to the side and tried to stand up. 

"—hey!"

Before you could find your balance, a firm but gentle hand grabbed your shoulders and guided you down to the bed again. You couldn't find the momentum to fight back at the hand, as a familiar voice echoed in your ears. One that cleared the fog of uncertainty in your mind and forced you to remember just where you saw those familiar plants, this familiar room, and an equally familiar voice that you had grown to be fond of in a couple of months now.

"Look, I'm not certain with what you were doing with your life, or why did you decided—quite ludicrous, if I do say so myself—that gliding from that high in the sky is a smart thing to do, but if you don't wish to worsen your injuries and force me to send you to Bimarstan, you'll stay in that bed and rest yourself." The familiar person talked to you in a strict tone, almost exasperated, but the underlying concern for your wellbeing was present. 

Raising your head, you blinked at him once, then twice. You tried rubbing your eyes, praying this is all a wonderful dream, when he was still standing in front of you after that, you poked his gloved hand once. 

Your eyes widened in shock at realisation. "—TIGHNARI?! HOW… W-WHAT…WHY? THIS IS…?! Are you for real?!"

Tighnari, the Forest Watcher  Avidya Forest, a recently released Sumeru character, the first playable 5 star Dendro Bow wielder, the character you were just farming artifacts for before your "death"…is standing in front of you!? In the flesh! 

He doesn't even seem 3D anymore because the more complicated details in his splash and official art, the ones that were left behind in his 3D model, looks even more complicated now that you were seeing in your own eyes. That was definitely real now.

What in the world is going on?!

One of Tighnari's ears twitched along with his eye. "...Oh, Archons. Do lower down the decibels of your voice. It's grating my ears. And I'm quite certain I've never met you before, and I didn't get the chance to introduce myself when you smacked me in the face earlier, so how come you know my name?" 

Confused, you frowned at him, still not believing this is all real. "...uh, what do you mean I smacked you?"

Perhaps he realised that you were still not yourself to answer his questions, so he patiently said, "I saw you free falling from the sky, but before I could have the chance to properly catch you, you instantly smacked right through me, knocking us both right that instant."

His nonchalance was outstanding, especially when you notice the slight reddish bump on his forehead that was probably due to the fact that you knocked your forehead with him when he tried to properly catch you.

After Tighnari finished muttering to himself how it was nearly impossible to have that falling speed, he turned to you with his hands on his hips, his bi-coloured eyes narrowing. "...we'll continue this conversation later, it's time for you to drink your medicine. So, stay there for a moment and don't move. I'll be right back."

Before you could say anything, Tighnari turned his back on you and left the room, leaving you alone with nothing but a quick and curious glance as you watched him disappear behind the doors.

By the way, his real-life tail looks even fluffier than the one in game—

Alone, you finally had time to gather your thoughts. "...This…is not real, right? This must be a dream, right?" You pinched your cheeks and uninjured arms, but the pain that comes with it keeps telling you otherwise, that no…no, [Name] this is not a dream…

Panic started to form at the pit of your stomach, scorching deep as if burning, and you tried your best to relax your breathing by patting your chest multiple times, but instead of calming, you were surprised once again when something appeared in front of you.

"W-What…?"

You stared dumbly at the hologram-like screen hovering before your face innocently. It eerily looks like the Paimon Menu in your Genshin Impact game, minus the Battle Pass, Co-op, and the Community tab. Even the Wish system was here! Though when you tried cautiously tapping it, it was locked, along with the Character Archive and the Handbook.

When your eyes travelled upwards to where your Adventure Rank usually situated, your jaw dropped and you almost fell on the bed in mortification.

[Username]

(No signature)

World Level: 0

Adventure Rank: 1

EXP: 0

Route 1: Listen to Tighnari and wait for his further instructions. After all, what could you do outside of Sumeru with nothing but a body full of injuries and an AR1 on your account?

WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR AR60 ACCOUNT?! WHY IS IT AR1? HELLO—?

TAGLIST (open! Send a dm or ask to be added :3) | @xinii , @maehemthemisfit , @abvolat , @crazypriestess , @ghostsaysno , @kittence , @unabashedlyminiaturetyrant , @xiyanin , @toasterinabathtub ...

Route 2: Forget Tighnari! Maybe it was a wifi problem or something? There must be a problem here why you were back at AR1, right!? You're going to find out whether you have Tighnari's help or not!

[fruityfroggy]

Hello, Fellow touchstarved fan here!

I saw your post on the picture below and wanted to add to the theory pile, its colored based on theories and main ideas (Not new to tumbler but don't usually interact with other so sorry if this theory dump is wierd).

Basically the theories I'm adding are based on a lot of what you already pointed out.

Mhin has their leg (thats closest to the Other LI) protecting their body but only has their arm closing off the viewer. As a scientist they're protecting their most vulnerable area.

Next is Leander and Vere. Vere, with his other hand is clearly drawing attention to his chain. Which is just his character, a person who knows what he wants (to be free) and is not afraid to show it. However, Leander as a character is more secretive, but he too is (subtlety) pointing out his scar by covering it. Maybe the scare can be taken literally and figuratively like a mark on himself and his character that he can't quite hide but wants to. Hinting that he's more dangerous or "has the capability for villainy" (based on Google).

The next duo is Kuras and Ais. The more straightforward one was Ais. He is reaching out with his more 'human' hand which could be a sign of his sincerity/humanity or not wanting the Mc to be involved with the seaspring or his little 'freind'. As for Kuras he is holding his hand out with his right and as far as I can tell the only hand he has with a ring. The ring is on his middle finger which represents responsibility, but the ring also has a chain with might be a symbol of him being chained to his responsibility. (This is based on Greek Mythology like a lot of other theories)

Truly the last thing I'm pointing out is that the two duos are in inverted poses.

Anyways thats all! Sorry I went on a little theory rant 😅. Hope you have a wonderful day Byeeeeeeeee

No, no, there’s no need to apologize. Your theories are actually very perceptive and I genuinely didn’t catch these details:)

Truth is, I’m not that good at theories and analysis of the sort in the first place, and the original post was simply an act on my intrusive thoughts. So, I really didn’t expect it to gain this much attention.

Anyway, I don’t really have much else to add to the things you mentioned, since your points were already quite good on their own (and because I’m not in the headspace to think of any theories at the moment). I just think that these are worth sharing! So I’ll reply for the sake of that.

I hope that’s fine with you! Have a wonderful day as well!