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#i also think this is another one of those things where it’s like. these people are seeing posts from people they follow On Line
allfearstofallto · 3 days
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How They Mark You as Theirs
Yandere x Fem! Reader
A/N: because I genuinely can't stop thinking about Scaramouche putting his makeup on you! It's been keeping me up at night.
Diluc: With jewelry
You sparkle when you walk into a room. Not just your glowing eyes or large, puffy dresses, but also what adornes your body. A pendant around your neck, large gem rings on your fingers, and earrings, more expensive than most could afford. People wondered if maybe all of your gems and stones were too heavy, maybe that's why despite the fact that you looked so lavish, you never smiled.
Dilcuc would be at your side, slipping another ring onto your finger. The other ladies would fawn at the sight, silently wishing for a man who wanted to adorn them with silver and gold, but to you, every ring, every stone, every bracelet, and every gem was another lock on the chain harboring you to him, claiming you as his.
Childe: With Bruises
Your neck is littered with love bites, your thighs covered in scratches from where his nails would dig into them, your wrist would have markings around them, from where he would hold you down, pressing passionate kisses and maybe more if he desired.
Even though you were embarrassed by the blatant proof of what he'd done to you all over your body, he still made sure you wore rather revealing clothing. You'd flush with embarrassed, knowing eyes looking all over you, but Childe would smile happily. A hand around your waist would caress you, making it known that he wished to claim you more.
Scaramouche: With make-up
How did everyone know that you were married to number six of the Fatui harbingers? Well, they had to look no further than your eyes, framed in that familiar red shade. The first time he makes you wear it, it's because you watched as he did his own. His nimble fingers held the brush like it was second nature, creating the lines against his eye with ease.
“Come here,” he'll order while still standing in front of the mirror. Before you can ask what he needs from you, he's already squeezing your cheeks between those same fingers, holding your face in place.
The brush tickles as it slides across your eyelids, making you shake a bit in his grasp as you hold back laughter. The smile on your face making his demeanor melt for just a moment, he softens and stops his work, just staring at your features, “I know how it feels. Stop moving,” he'll order. And you do your best to obey.
The sight of your smile is more than enough to make this a habit, instead of a one off thing. Everyday after your kimono dressing, he calls you to him, holding the brush stained with that familiar red makeup.
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utilitycaster · 2 days
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Something I think actual play is uniquely good at showing is, for lack of a better way to put it, narrative choice. You see the story that people decide to play out; you see the threads that people wanted to follow. You also can, if the GM shares their concepts, get an idea of some of the other possible paths not taken and stories not told, but ultimately they are untold. And finally, ironically enough for a medium with a random element, it makes creator intent unavoidably clear.
We see it all the time in Critical Role. There probably was a really fascinating story to be told with Vox Machina working with The Clasp following the fall of Emon. The party chose not to do it; we don't know what would have happened. I like many am intrigued by the Augen Trust path Matt had planned for the Mighty Nein; they didn't take it. We can't judge the story on what might have been, even if we find it interesting; we can only judge it on what was. And we don't follow the Clasp nor the Augen Trust as a result, because it's not where the PCs are; at most we might see the effects their actions taken without the aid of the PCs had on the world when their paths cross again. The camera, in D&D, always follows the PCs. You see what they see.
Essek was redeemed because the Mighty Nein wanted him to be redeemed. In actual play especially there's a weird tendency to switch to the passive voice to describe things one dislikes, but this choice was anything but passive. The party learned Essek had been lying to them and made their choice to remain his friends, and the story continues from that presumption, and while I am the first to reject the "but the cast liked it" argument, the fact is, one can't reject this redemption without rejecting the party's choice, and the party is controlled by the cast.
It's great to discuss paths not taken, and it's even true that you might believe those paths to be a better story. But you cannot rely on the camera - or the audience's interest and sympathy - to abandon the PCs desires and decisions just to suit yours. You can't do this as a GM, as another player, or as a viewer. Nor can you expect people to judge based on potential once it is no longer potential; a strong concept that is never followed doesn't count as the story; at best it counts as the GM or player's creative intent.
Actual Play forces people to take a story for what it is. I think the fandom can be so fraught because many people do not understand quite how it's limited in scope nor what is under GM control and what is not and so they act like choices are inevitable and inevitabilities are choices.
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sunkissed-zegras · 7 hours
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Omg omg omg I just thought about uconn wbb team with their manager on live moments. Can we get a headcannon or fic for this?
I like to think that despite being the manager, she is best friends with the team and tends to be with them (they totally didn’t pull her from her work cuz she works so much noooooo, not at all)
(^ this could also possible be why people are suspicious of she has something going on with one of the team members cuz she’s almost ALWAYS with them even outside of school and it’s to a point where ppl are like “um🤨 she’s around y’all a lot to JUST be a manager.”Just food for thought👀)
BUT IN THIS CASE, as i mentioned before we can’t expect manager-baby to be in tiktok’s and other videos and just (somehow) not being pulled into their live shenanigans.
BUT this is where people see a. just how done the manager is with the girls and b. THEIR PERSONALITY
I guarentee the girls always say how the manager is like “she’s very witty/sarcastic/a smartass/sweet/hyper.” and ppl at first are like “??? you mean that manager with a mean ass death stare?? no way.” And this is where the live moments come through.
You can really see how much she cherishes the team and her bond with them, and no matter how much they may bicker and tease eachother. They love one another.
There’s 100% a tiktok compilation of the manager being sassy/a smartass in lives you cannot convince me otherwise. Also I think manager has a MEAN ass side eye.
Along the sweetness you can also see how much they fuckin bicker.
“KK, you’re delulu with or without a man involved.”
KK: “Okay you’re off the live.” *shifts camera*
—-
“Paige you have the confidence of a much taller woman.”
Paige: “Bro I’m LITERALLY taller than you.”
“That’s what makes it more embarrassing.”
——-
Also, THE TEAM PULLS OUT MANAGERS SOFT SIDE!!!! Manager may be strict but is very sweet and loving. I also personally headcannon that they’re one of those people that call their friends pet names like “baby” “babes” “darling” “love” “sugar” “pumpkin” etc. on instinct cuz of their sweet nature. And it’s not like they’re TRYING to fluster people, it’s just what they do. Manager loves platonic love!!!! They’re also the girls safe place.
Manager can’t help but melt when it comes to the team because she just cares for them so much and they just easily take away her tough guy mask.
Also more rare clips of manager lowkey (high key) flirting with the team, which is something she tends to do off camera but sometimes slips out when the cameras rolling. (There’s 100% someone on the team that calls the manager their wife. The “yall argue like a married couple.” people)
-🐹
yes, nonnie!! manager is really close with the team because she's known them for so long and she spends sooo much time with them, it's kinda bound to happen
at first i feel like people would not like manager just because she's the friendilest (AT FIRST!!!!) but when they begin to make tik toks/do lives with her, everyone falls in love with her!!!!!!!
she's very much the glue of the team and like, she has a dynamic with everyone on the team. her and nika are like BEST friends, kk and her have a little/older sister dynamic, paige and her have an old married couple dynamic, so on and so forth. every loves a good dynamic so everyone just falls in love with her!!
oh my god, YES. she becomes a staple in UConn "fandom" bc like, she's just so iconic like??? there's like a million compilations of manager side eyeing people bc its sooo funny
the whole petname thing is SO real, thats also why people start to believe that she's dating one of the players😭😭 ALSO, when she meets fans and stuff, she will call them petnames (again cus it's like normal for her) and again people just fall in love w her
there are more random manager headcanons coming soon promise 🫶🏼
SEND MORE THOUGHTS, I LOVE READING THEMMMMM!!!!!!
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I gotta talk about FourDogs (again)
It's barely about her, though. I think "he's so lucky his dad was brutally murdered" and "people with trauma need a second handicap because they're too motivated" are such absolute-the-fuck-ly bonkers takes, they're not even worth the time it took me to get mad about them, which was immediately. This time around, I have way more to say about audience reception. I'll try to keep it civil.
It feels like a lot of us are responding from increasingly personal places because these are characters with which a lot of us identify, or we see traits in them that remind us of people from our real lives. And hey! Another performance and storytelling slay on the part of one Brennan Lee Mulligan. Who else can invent 50+ characters every year and play them to the point where any one of them can evoke both an "omg that's literally me!" and an "omg that's literally Dani, the girl that bullied me all of freshmen year until I punched out her front tooth in the student parking lot and got in-school suspension for a month!". And whether Kipperlily reminds you of Dani, or reflects your own anxieties about potential, ability, and trauma, an important thing to remember is this: she is not real!
Brennan made her up! Brennan made her up to tell a story, and when he made her up, he made her annoying, petty, antagonistic, and he gave her not just opposing goals to the the protagonists we know and love, but the explicit goal of ruining The Bad Kids' lives, specifically.
Now, I'm not saying she's fictional to be a dick, or dismiss any deeper readings on her or any of the Rat Grinders. I'm bringing it up because the way I'm seeing people talk to each other about these characters is starting to get a little wild and it's in danger of waking up The Olde Gods™ (i.e. the special brand of Tumblr Self-Righteousness that lives inside us all).
It's important to remember Kipperlilly is a character in a fictive work so that different interpretations of her don't get treated as stone law. Each reading of her is personal and valid, but none are gospel. The "Kipperlilly is but a victim" take is not the only correct one, nor is radical empathy for her as a character the only correct reaction. Also, even if I consider her sympathetic that is not incompatible with an opinion like "Kipperlilly needs to get roundhouse'd in the head by a lesbian in a tracksuit and/or a wizard in a jean jacket, posthaste". Sure, you can say that anyone who doesn't feel a deep and eclipsing empathy for Kipperlilly above all other emotions is immature at best and sociopathic at worst, but then I can just say anyone who demands solely empathy for Kipperlilly and excuses her literal crimes and bass-ackwards world view because she's insecure and has anger issues, is probably also someone who has a history of weaponizing whatever minority status they may or may not occupy to talk over, silence, or harass people of color.
They're both just opinions. And also, like. Y'know. A bit much.
To engage in the long and rich tradition of measuring character trajectories against those in the Avatar: The Last Airbender cartoon, let's compare Kipperlilly to Azula. Azula had an incredibly sympathetic backstory and untreated mental health issues. Azula was also a danger to herself and others, as well as profoundly manipulative and abusive (although, it was a children's show so Azula never killed anybody for whatever that's worth). Do I wish that fourteen-year-old girl had an Iroh-type in her life? Literally one adult who loved her genuinely and advocated for her best interests? Of course I do. I saw the Ember Island episode, I watched that one video essay! Does that mean it was any less satisfying to watch Zuko and Katara kick her absolute ass? No! And it was non-lethal anyway, children's show, duh.
That brings me to my other thing; Kipperlilly is a character in a fictive work that is not finished. And I know that point will age poorly, but I'm thinking it won't be the only one (hey-o). Remember the people that were calling The Bad Kids bullies? And then we learned that Kipperlilly hated Riz because his fucking dad fucking died?? And that was a full academic year before getting reanimated by a rage god?? I'll do a tame one; remember when Gilear wasn't cursed?? He was "just a guy"?? The show is serialized, gang, the world is still building! Clerickiller is not done yet, y'all need to let her cook! I'm sure we'll tune in next week to see her graduate from "unhinged" to "unaffiliated with the door frame or any frame-like structure". Reprimanding people on Tumblr will not change the trajectory of this character who, by the way, has not expressed remorse or any desire for a path other than violence. You look me in my black face after your blorbo slits a kid's throat and say "help her"?? Kipperlilly doesn't want get better right now, she wants one thing and that's for Kristen Applebees to go fuck herself and die!! You were there, you heard it!! When the fictional behavior changes, as it often does in stories, so will my opinion. There is no fore-forgiveness. Without an actual redemption arc I will continue to see the villain as a villain.
Speaking of, I think what some people have an issue with is the level of hate Kipperlilly's getting and how aggressive it is. But like.... isn't that allowed?? Because of all the stuff I said but also because like, mama said that it was okay! And by "mama" I mean Siobhan Thompson who said Kipperlilly belongs under the jail. Sure, in the real world, adults don't tell kids they belong in the ground that's crazy fucked up, but all these kids are played by adults and Emily as Fig joked that she was gonna smite the sixteen-year-old girl played by the thirty-something man. You're telling me the antagonist antagonizes the protagonists, and the protagonists go "boo, hiss" and then I, the audience, go "boo, hiss as well" but I'm wrong? I'm wrong, somehow, cool checks out.
"They're XP Levelling*punches a locker*!!"
"That girl is worse than Kalvaxus."
"Littledoggy Girlcollar"
Am I not engaging with the narrative on it's own terms if I say "i'd tell Clerickiller to die mad, but she clearly already did, Jojo Siwa head-ass, in reference to that fuck-ass ponytail and your toxic yuri" Do I need to draw a little caitmay-style OC to say it for me, would that be better?
God-forbid, we have fun? Must we discourse, always? FourDogs is tragic, FourDogs is compelling, FourDogs is Dani from 9th grade. She is Azula from Avatar and Clare from Fleabag and Brennan Lee Mulligan from my dreams and that is something that can be so personal. But no one else has to participate in your parasocial relationship. What's crazy is, I actually like Kipperlilly! As a character. I mean, the "trauma is privilege" obviously hit a nerve with me because of real life stuff, but the image of her over the rogue teacher's grave?? With a backhoe and a "gotcha, bitch" expression??? Come on, that is fresh-off-the-vine Cunt™. Even more so than I imagined that moment to be when we first heard about it. Her ending up in a Ragh or Aelwyn place would be way more satisfying than a Goldenrod or Penelope Everpetal place, BUT IT WILL ALSO be satisfying to see whatever Kipperlilly's version of the locked-in-a-chokehold-and-being-gaslit-into-thinking-you-shit-the-coach's-pants-scene is. In addition to the non-lethal ass-kicking that proceeds it.
Y'all can chuck the insinuation that something so clearly subjective is actually objective and has moral implications that make me bad, directly in the garbage. What is this, religion, hey-o.
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igotsnothing · 1 day
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OC Deep Dive Questionnaire
Thank you for tagging me, @lynzishell! You are the best and I enjoyed reading about Atlas and Asher so much- their warmth and affection were so evident throughout the entire questionnaire! ❤️
For this I chose Sasha and Gideon. If anyone is interested in a different pair, I'd be glad to do it again!
Gideon: Oh, we’ve been invited to do a Deep Dive Questionnaire!
Sasha: No. It’s absurd.
Gideon: We were tagged by Asher and Atlas, though. They’re so nice!
Sasha:  Buuh…Fine.
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-What common/uncommon fear do they have?
Gideon: Are you scared of anything, Sasha? You have to be one of the most fearless people I know. Who walks into a vampire coven meeting like you did? You are something else.
Sasha: When I was little, my mom took me to a petting zoo and bought me feeding pellets to give to the geese; they all kept crowding me and chasing me around this pond and I thought I was going to die.
Gideon: What did you do?
Sasha: I threw all the pellets at them and jumped into the pond.
Gideon: That’s actually very scary for a young child! Did your mother have to jump in after you?
Sasha: Nooo. The pond was pretty shallow.
Gideon...How old were you?
Sasha: Like 10.
Gideon: PFFFF!
Sasha: Shut up.
Gideon: You’re so dramatic.
Sasha: What about you?
Gideon: I fear... not ever having you by my side.
Sasha: [Turning red and burying his face in Gideon’s chest]
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Do they have any pet peeves?
Gideon: Hmm...Probably people who are rude, especially in public. It’s not that hard to hold the door for people or say excuse me, or turn your blinker on before making a turn.
Sasha: OMG, when people sit down at a table and keep talking to each other and when I come over to take their order, they’re like, “Oh, I didn’t get a chance to look at the menu yet.” I’m like- there are FOUR things on the menu. Just order or I will choose your food for you!
Gideon: You also dislike bad tippers.
Sasha: If I get another religious tract as a tip, someone is going to be meeting their lord sooner than they expected.
What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?
Sasha: We bought a bunch of stuff recently! We got a sofa bed and a fridge... What's one more thing?
Gideon: What about Mrs. Kachky?
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Sasha: She goes where I go. She’s the only thing I have left of my mom’s.
Gideon: I'm feeling a little jealous. I think she gets more cuddles than I do...
Sasha: Awww! I’ll let you cuddle her too.
Gideon: [Inhaling deeply] I’m throwing you back into that pond.
What do they notice first in a person?
Gideon: Appearances can be deceiving. I’m more interested in seeing how people treat those they perceive as being beneath them. People often behave badly when they have any kind of power.
Sasha: I was raised in the Spice District! You think we make eye contact with people while walking around here? You keep walking- mind your business.
Gideon: Let’s combine the next two questions because I think they’re related.
On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?  And -do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?
Gideon: I was a soldier when I was mortal and as a vampire, I’ve endured my share of attempts on my unlife: I’ve been stabbed, beaten, and I’ve escaped more than one attempt to burn me into ashes. I assess a situation before fighting. I won’t necessarily run if the odds are stacked heavily against me, but I may try to explore an alternative. I’d say I have a high tolerance. A 9.
Sasha: Me too.
Gideon: [Squinting and shaking his head]
Sasha: Okay, but in my defense that comb snagged my hair really hard- I didn’t expect that. Let’s say a 7.
Gideon: Or a 4... It’s ironic, because you won’t run from a fight. Even if you know you’ll get beaten up. It’s very paradoxical.
Sasha: In Sparta, we die like men!
Gideon: [Rolls his eyes].
Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?
Gideon: My coven is my family, and it is a fairly large one. I think I’ve been somewhat absent and disconnected from them for a while now. I do miss that closeness we shared over the decades.
Sasha: Nope. It was my mom and my dad and me. After she died, I was pretty much on my own. My dad and I haven't spoken in years.
[Gideon reaches for his hand and clasps it tightly.]
Gideon: I'm always here for you, Sasha. You're not alone.
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What animal represents them best?
Gideon: [Laughs]
Sasha: PASS!
What is a smell that they dislike?
Sasha: Depending on where you are walking in this city, every once in a while you’ll catch a whiff of weed that’s just skunky-ass bad. Or pee. Or trash water on the sidewalk.
Gideon: Garlic.
Have they broken any bones? if so, how?
Gideon: Oof...I’ve broken a few. I used to ride horses when I was a soldier and had my share of bad falls.
Sasha: I broke my arm falling off a jungle gym. I was in first or second grade. It wasn’t too bad. All my friends drew on my cast and then my arm was super stinky when the cast came off.
How would a stranger likely describe them?
Sasha: Gideon? Sophisticated. And...Suede.
Gideon: Suede?
Sasha: Yeah! You know, someone like super confident and elegant...
Gideon: Did you mean...suave?
Sasha: ...Wut?
Gideon: [Quickly] Sasha is completely and devastatingly adorable and endearing.
Are they a night owl or a morning bird?
Gideon: I don’t need much sleep, but I find myself keeping hours similar to Sasha’s now.
Sasha: I stay up late when I work at the diner.
What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?
Sasha: This man loves the flavor of his fancy-pants whiskey.
Gideon: You forgot my favorite one: you.
Sasha: Stop it...And you hated Twizzlers.
Gideon: Why someone would eat a rope of twisted wax is beyond me. You hate fine whiskey- I'll never forget “liquid leather”. But you love junk food, which baffles me. Have some Styrofoam instead- at least it doesn't pretend to be real food.
Sasha: Heh! I got you some Tootsie Rolls and Necco candy... Can't wait to see you try those...
Do they have any hobbies?
Gideon: I love the arts. I frequented the theatre, museums, and concert halls often. I'd love to take Sasha with me sometime.
Sasha: I like walking around the city. There is always something interesting or new to see. Oh, and piling stuff into the hall closet so the contents fall down on Dima when he opens it. He falls for it. Every. Time.
Boom, surprise birthday party! how do they react to surprises?
Sasha and Gideon look at each other: No.
Sasha: Let’s say what we hate about surprise parties at the count of three. Ready? 1...2...3!
Gideon: Surprises.
Sasha: People.
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Do they like to wear jewelry? if so, what is their favorite piece?
Gideon: I don’t really wear anything except for my Rolex Daytona.
Sasha: F*ck. How am I supposed to follow that? A few pizza-shaped earrings from Claire’s? They were super cute, though. Oh, and a friendship bracelet Tito made me a couple years ago. It broke off but I still have it somewhere.
Do they have neat or messy handwriting?
Sasha: Have you seen his writing? It’s like he signed the Declaration of Independence. Mine is barely legible.  
What are two emotions they feel the most?
Gideon: I sense many of Sasha’s emotions, but I don’t want to put him on the spot.
Sasha: I do feel anxious and upset a lot.
Gideon: My emotions would be frustration and...Hmm...
Sasha: Horniness.
Gideon [Stares in mock surprise as Sasha snickers]
Do they have a favorite fabric?
Gideon: I like linen. It has an elegant simplicity that is timeless.
Sasha: I like flannel.
Gideon: [Playfully] Not suede?
Sasha: Oh, haha, you dick.
What kind of accent do they have?
Sasha: Do I even have an accent?
Gideon: You sound like you’re from San Myshuno. No doubt. What about me?
Sasha: You do have a pretty neutral accent, but every once in a while you’ll sound like you’re from Henford-on-Bagley.
Gideon: Well, it was more likely to hear Simlish from Henford since it is closer to where I hail from.
Sasha, imitating Gideon very hammily: Say, old chap, do you fancy a tipple of liquid leather with some freshly harvested Cheetos? No, wait- Cheeee-tooows!
[Laughing]
Sasha: Heh! I guess that wasn't so bad, after all...
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I'm tagging the following storytellers who are wonderful: @agena87, @aurorangen, @eljeebee, @miss-may-i, @aheathen-conceivably, and if anyone else wants to play, please do so. And because I believe in miracles: @damseljamselI and @greighish. @lynzishell, if you wanted to do this for Phoenix and Dawn...here is your chance! I'd totally read it up! I'd tag more folks but I'm feeling a bit off these days and (irrationally- I hope) worried about bothering people. In that vein- this is totally optional! (butifyoudoitiwannareaditall!)
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umbra-mayhem · 1 day
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ADHD!John "Soap" MacTavish
To accompany my ocd!Ghost, here's an adhd!Soap cause I also have adhd and must make these stupid made-up military men suffer like me.
(tw for skin picking and accidental SH)
He has a particular place for everything he owns and will not place something down unless it is in one of those designated spots. Because otherwise, he'll place something down and completely forget where it is. He also labels everything he owns with his initials so that even if he misplaces something, it can be returned to him (This is something his mother used to do for him when he was a kid. It worked then, so he just kept doing it on his own as he got older).
During briefs/debriefs/meetings, he has to stand in the back of the room because 'dammit Soap, you're moving too much and it's distracting everyone'. He has idle animation (haha get it), typically bouncing on the balls of his feet or swaying back and forth.
He needs to be doing something with his hands at all times, which usually means either fiddling mindlessly with his knife or ripping at the skin on his fingers/lips. Ghost doesn't particularly care for either of these options, as they often accidentally leave Soap bloody one way or another. Once he realizes Soap just needs his hands occupied, Ghost buys him a small pack of fidget toys. Soap becomes obsessed with them (definitely not because a certain Lieutenant gifted them to him, no definitely not).
He talks constantly, saying anything that pops into his head. He doesn't have much of a temper, so that's a good thing at least. But he does sometimes make snarky comments that can get him into a bit of trouble. It seems the only time he is fairly quiet is when he's out on the field.
Really, the field is the only place he can fully concentrate. He hyper focuses on the task at hand, which usually works in the team's favor. Until he can't let something go. Getting Soap to retreat can be a challenge. He wants to see their objective completed, stubborn little git. But overall, the field is where most of his symptoms move to the back burner.
His RSD is rough, though he rarely lets it show. Nobody other than Ghost knows how insecure Soap can get. How he stays up late berating himself over all the ways he thinks he fucked up that day. Soap believes he just needs to work harder. And sure, his RSD can drive him to improve his performance. But often, he is far too hard on himself and a bit too convinced that people are angry with him when they really aren't. (When Ghost realizes this, he makes a conscious effort to remind Soap that he loves him and isn't mad at him.)
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avatarmerida · 2 days
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We're getting skater girl part 2?!?! I'm so excited!
Actually it's Part 3! You can find part 1 here and part 2 here
aaaaaaand here's part three:
Hunter usually got to school early anyway, but Monday morning he was there before Bump had even unlocked the door.
He had hardly slept, which wasn’t terribly new, but this type of anxiety didn’t just make him scared he was also a little… excited?
Friday night played over and over in his mind. During breakfast and his chores and his collection of endless lessons, his mind wandered back to the school steps. He stood at the bottom of the stairs at the edge of where the shadows started, looking at her like she was the only light that could cast them. One second they were just standing there and he got to see just how green her eyes were up close and the next he was kissing Willow. 
He kissed Willow.
He kissed Willow.
He kissed Willow. 
He had been impulsive, he still wasn’t sure if it technically broken school policy but he didn’t care? But he also cared a lot? But not about policy for once, no he cared about what it actually meant. He knew things happened at dances that would not happen otherwise, things people hoped for, things that happened impulsively under the guise of the flashing lights. Things people came to regret come Monday morning.
He knew his moment with Willow had been two of these, but he hoped it wouldn’t try for all three.
When she had gotten him to his house with plenty of time to spare they were a collection of muffled laughter as they tried to keep quiet. Normally, he’d be anxious about what his uncle would say, but Willow made him feel safe. When Willow touched him, it activated a bubble. It was like the pressure of his position, the weight of every expectation was gone because they were too fast for it to catch up. Even when they were standing still, if he was near her it still felt like flying. 
“Thank you again,” he said once his house was in sight. 
“No problem,” she said as she caught her breath. They would’ve gotten here in time with her usual speed, but she had gone faster to try and impress Hunter. The fact that the faster she went, the tighter he held onto her was just an added bonus. “I think I set a new personal record.”
“Cool,” he said, equally as breathless for a different reason. “Happy to help.”
They stood there as the autumn air hung between them, both in and out of their element. He wanted to say more but he didn't know what else there was to say. He was still a little embarrassed, a little confused, but being in her arms he felt like those problems could wait for him on the ground. But the realist in him knew he couldn’t stay here forever. Granted, he knew he could probably stay here awhile; she was pretty strong. 
But he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. 
“Um, Willow?”
“Yeah?”
“You can uh, put me down now,” he chuckled nervously, a part of him not wanting to say anything. Willow blushed at the realization that she was still holding him.
“Oh yeah, of course,” she said with a matching chuckle as she gently set him down. She playfully brushed imaginary dust off his shoulder. “Another successful delivery.”
“Heh, yeah,” Hunter said with a faint smile, kicking the ground knowing he had a few minutes to spare and not wanting to leave her just yet.
She fiddled with her braid, sharing the feeling. 
“It’s a nice night,” she sighed, looking up at the night sky. “You can see the stars out here. It’s really beautiful.”
“Yeah, really beautiful,” he breathed, looking at her looking at the sky. She smiled, feeling his eyes on her as they listened to the crickets chirp. 
Hunter knew if it wasn’t for him, Willow would be back at the school laughing and dancing and having the night she deserved. Now she had to skate home in the dark by herself and probably be late for her own curfew. How was he worth all that trouble?
“Willow, I need to apologize,” he said softly.
“You’ve apologized like twelve times already,” said Willow. “Hunter, I promise I’m not upset with you, you know it wasn’t your fault, right?”
He could tell she was trying to take it easy on him.
“It’s just… I still feel really bad for yelling at you,” he admitted.
“Oh stop, you yell at me all the time,” she reminded him.
Not like that, he thought. Never like that. 
“And also for making you miss the dance.” He said, realizing he had a long list of things to apologize for. “I mean I know how much you were looking forward to it and you didn’t even get to dance-.”
“Ah, it’s fine,” she assured him, waving her hand. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have too much luck dancing in skates anyway.”
“Yeah but if I wasn’t such a jerk then maybe we could have gone together properly and you could have worn dancing shoes and a dance dress-.”
“‘A dance dress?’” Willow repeated with a giggle. “What’s a ‘dance dress?’”
“You know, like a fancy formal dress for a dance,” he said, slightly embarrassed. 
“Hmm, so you wanna see me in a fancy formal dress for a dance huh?” she teased.
He blushed. “I just want you to have the night you deserve,” he said, carefully choosing his words. “You deserve to be in the gym with all your friends having fun, not doing favors for me.”
“Hunter, I promise you more than made up for it,” she said with a smirk. “I had a wonderful night.”
“Really? How?” She had spent her whole night babysitting, then getting accused of Boscha’s lies, and then running home to help him. She had spent her whole night helping other people
“Because I got to spend it with you,” she said simply. “And that’s all I really wanted anyway.”
In this small serene moment outside all the chaos, Willow’s words caught up to him: I’ve had a crush on him for awhile now…
Did that count as a confession? Did he need something more direct or in writing to confirm that he hadn’t imagined or misheard her. Because it didn’t quite add up that this dizzy, silly, floating feeling that he had for Willow was returned. Even more unbelievable was that he hadn’t blown it. He had wanted to impress her, to be a perfect gentleman but even when she saw the side of him he wasn’t proud of, she still stayed. What had he done to earn such affection?
 He thought about kissing her again. They were far from school and there were no rules stopping him now, just nerves. But he didn’t want to do it just because no one would see. He didn’t want her to think he was doing it because he was grateful she had gotten him home before his curfew. He couldn’t describe in plain words why he wanted to do it, but his heart beat loud in his ears as the memory flooded his mind again. Whatever that was, he wanted it again.
“Well maybe next time we can hang out when you don’t have to rescue me because I’m running late for something,” he attempted to joke.
“Well maybe I like rescuing you,” she teased, moving closer to him. 
“Well maybe I like…” you he so desperately wanted to say. He wanted to show her how grateful he was for her, to know her, to be seen by her, to spend any amount of time with her. But again, it was complicated. He felt like he wasn’t allowed to like her but, like she was above and outside his world. She was a mystery and an open book at the same time, like a contradiction mixed with a shooting star. 
“…being rescued?” She offered. 
Did he like being swooped into her arms and whisked away like his troubles were a physical thing he could run from? Maybe more than he should. Being rescued implied inconveniencing someone, burdening them with his troubles. But with Willow it felt like being noticed, being cared for. Oh, she could rescue him anytime she wanted to.
“I just… uh… thank you. I know I’m not always the warmest or friendliest person but I’ve always thought you were so kind and patient and beautiful and I’m just not used to someone-”
He was cut off by her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, pinning his arms to his sides as her face rested against his chest. 
“Uh… w-what’s going on?” He asked. “N-not that I’m complaining I just don’t-.”
“I wanna help you get used to it,” she said. “Because I think you are a very warm and friendly person, even if you don’t think so.”
She didn’t mention that he had so casually called her beautiful, she kept that fact in her back pocket for a rainy day. 
“Well, I-I think you’re very… uh…”
“Beautiful?” she teased, resting her chin on his chest to look up at him mischievously. Okay, so maybe a rainy day didn’t have to be so far in the future. 
“Yeah,” he said, knowing he couldn’t believably deny it and frankly he didn’t want to. Something in her eyes hypnotized him and allowed him to move his arms around her back. The moving of his arms led her to naturally move hers up around his neck as they both gravitated towards each other. Normally being so close to her and being so quiet would make him nervous, but this somehow felt natural and calming. 
“Ya know this kinda feels like we’re slow dancing,” Willow observed with a smile.
“Yeah I uh guess so,” Hunter replied with a nervous chuckle as she adjusted her grip on his neck. He could not wrap his head around that this was how she had wanted to spend the night originally, that he didn’t see it sooner. That he had held himself back from believing it could be something she’d want with him. 
He didn’t know how to dance but he felt like that didn’t matter now. 
When he first allowed himself to entertain the idea of going to the dance with her, he tried to imagine a grand, romantic evening. He knew little about romance but felt the word suited her very being, romance was supposed to be whimsical and spontaneous and exciting which she effortlessly was. But he was organized and calculated and skeptical which maybe didn’t have to clash which made it hard for him to see what she saw in him. Would he have known to hold her like this under the flashing lights and loud music barely covering the whispers of their peers? Would he have known how to keep the conversation going, known the right thing to say, known how to tell if things were going well? 
But maybe just trying was enough.
“Maybe you can work your magic at the next student council meeting to see if we can push up the next dance,” she said, her voice a mixture of humor and genuine hope. He hadn’t totally blown it and he wasn’t blowing it now, though he didn’t fully understand how. 
“Maybe,” he said. Oh, he would pull strings, pull rank, pull in any argument he could to make it so. He wanted to show her he was capable of showing her the time she deserved. He felt he owed her so much. Why couldn’t he say more? “It’ll give me time to practice so I actually know what I’m doing.”
“Well I’d be happy to help you practice,” she said and Hunter realized they had started to slightly sway. He intended to practice in order to impress her when the time came so he wouldn’t want her to see his awkward progress but something in her voice made him suspect she knew that but was implying something more. He tried to match her tone.
“Luckily I’m a fast learner,” he said, smoother than he had ever said anything in his life. He demonstrated by focusing all of his courage to pull her closer and skillfully lean her into a small dip. Her grip on him tightened, but not for fear he’d drop her. She let out a light giggle as her eyes locked down the way the streetlights above framed his head like a halo and how natural it looked resting in his golden hair. She held her breath, thinking about kissing him again. Thinking so hard she swore he could hear her thoughts as he leaned in closer. 
Then out of the corner of their sight a light went on that stopped them dead in their tracks. 
“Oh no,” Hunter whispered. “My uncle is awake.”
Without thinking Willow shifted her weight and knocked Hunter off his feet and brought them both down to the ground, out of sight in case his uncle happened to look out the window. She covered his mouth to prevent his sounds of surprise from giving them away. 
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll get you inside so he doesn’t know you’ve been out.”
“But how?” Hunter whispered back, too focused on his panic to process their position on the ground which would normally leave him flustered. “I won’t be able to use the front door because he uses the chain lock.”
“Can you climb through a window maybe?”
“Probably, but I’m not sure I can do it without him hearing.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Willow assured. “I said I’d get you home and that’s what I’m gonna do. Let me handle distracting your uncle.”
Hunter’s heart sank, he knew his uncle was a stern and cold man and he didn’t want Willow to have to endure such energy on his behalf. “But you’ve already done so much for me, I can’t ask you to-.”
“Hey now,” she cut him off by pressing his finger to his lips. “I like being your knight in shining armor, okay? Just leave it to me.” 
“But what will you say? How are you gonna explain knocking on a door at 10pm?”
“Don’t worry, he won’t suspect I’m here to see you or anything” she assured him. “I’ll tell him I’m lost, that I’m looking for my aunt’s house or something. I’ll make something up and it’ll give you enough time to run upstairs.”
“Do you have a lot of experience sneaking into places?” Hunter gulped, trying to mix a compliment into his concern.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said playfully, moving her finger from his lips to boop his nose. Her confidence made him calm and he cracked a smile. “When you get inside safely, text me and I’ll head out.”
“But I don’t have your number.”
“Well it’s about time you asked for it then, isn’t it?” She smirked. “C’mere.”
She grabbed his hand as she fetched a marker for her skirt pocket, skillfully removing the cap with her teeth as she delicately wrote her phone number on his wrist. He watched with bated breath as she finished it with a tiny heart and he hoped she couldn’t hear his heart beating as his mind screamed at him that he would never be this cool.
“Wait like a minute and then make your way to the back, okay?” Willow instructed as she recapped the marker. She leapt back onto her feet as she dusted the dust from her blouse. “I won’t leave until you text me.”
“Okay,” he whispered from the ground, now in awe of the halo that found her. “And uh, w-what should I text you?”
“Send me a heart,” she said with a wink before taking off to the door. He watched her through the sheaves in the bushes, wondering how she continued to out-wonderful herself. 
After a minute, he tiptoed around the house listening as Willow spun a tale of asking for directions unsure of the order of the numbers of the house she was looking for and color of the house. She kept going, giving his uncle no time to turn her away as she added to her fictional predicament. He stifled his laughter as he silently bolted up the stairs, marveling at the way she was able to make a normally panic inducing situation somewhat comical. 
The minute he carefully closed his door, he dashed to quickly change] his clothes before diving beneath the covers to copy the numbers on his arm to text Willow the code. He agonized a minute over which heart to send her before deciding on the yellow one, so she would know for sure it was from him. 
After another minute he received a green heart in response. He stared at them, hypnotized by them on the illustrated screen together as he tried to decide if it was appropriate to say something else. Maybe he was to only use her number for business purposes. He didn’t have much practice texting, he didn’t want to risk misusing an abbreviation or emoji so he decided on: let me kno w hen u get h.Ome sa fe
He didn’t fall asleep until another green heart appeared from her.
———
Hunter didn’t know what to do next. She somehow kept getting cooler and he felt like he was falling behind when it came to showing her another side of him. He had her number now but he felt as though whatever came next had to happen in person. 
He didn’t want Darius (or even worse for his uncle) to hear him practice what he would say when he saw her so he knew getting to school early was his safest bet. 
But he needed to be ready for every possibility.
If she was cool, he had to be cool:
Oh hey Willow, do anything… fun this weekend? He would say, leaning against the locker. He imagined she would look at him with sparkling, mischievous eyes as she offered a clever retort. Maybe she would giggle, believing his attempt at charm.
If she played it off, he would too:
Oh yeah, it was uh so random right? He would say, and she would brush her hair behind her ear or twirl the end of her braid. Like, that’s just dances, ya know? Craaazy haha
If she was mad, he would be mad:
Boscha had no right to try and drag your name through the mud. We should work together to try and get back at her in a way that doesn’t violate school policy or anyone’s privacy but also has us spend a lot of time together.
Hmm, that one might need some workshopping.
He could be nonchalant, he could be business as usual, but the one thing he didn’t want to be was regretful. 
Because he wasn’t, and he hoped it wasn’t too much to hope she wasn’t too.
She had implied that she liked him, that she like-liked him. His mind wanted to trick him that she really meant something else but as much of a rule breaker as she was, she was not a liar. She didn’t tease him to be spiteful or cruel, she did it because she knew him. She knew he had a certain way of thinking and operating and speaking, so she had crafted a language just for them. As far as he knew she didn’t speak to anyone else like that, in a way that made his heart pause and pound and spin.
It took him awhile to accept that he liked her, but accepting it didn’t make it less confusing. He looked forward to seeing her everyday, and he liked things the way they were but lately she had been seeing him more, saying more, implying more. He didn’t know how to want more, he didn’t know what that looked like. 
It was risky, but Willow was all about risks. So maybe he needed to take a risk.
Hunter heard the hustle and  bustle start up in the hallway and knew Willow would be joining the masses any minute, and he wanted to be looking cool and proper when she did. 
He imagined her skating down the hallway, her loose braids trailing behind her like a comet’s tail and she’d spot him leaning against the locker looking suave and confident and her mind would straw back to Friday night with fondness. 
He took one last deep breath and prepared himself to enter the hallway, knowing he was losing time before the bell rang. But as he rushed into the hall, he bumped into someone and it sent him flying backwards onto the ground. 
“Sorry!” He said as he tried to regain his balance to once again rise to his feet, but the faster he got up the faster he’d fall down again. “Sorry! I take full responsibility, I know I shouldn’t even be-.”
“Hunter?” A familiar voice asked and he stopped himself as he looked up to see Willow standing over him with a confused smile. She caught his eye as he looked up at his name and extended her hand to him, “Are you okay? I didn’t see you come out and I uh -wait, are you wearing skates?” “Willow! I uh- wait, are you not?” he said as he took her hand and she swiftly pulled him up. He rolled a bit but she caught him to keep him up. 
“Oh, yeah,” she said as though she herself had forgotten. “I well, uh I thought we could walk to class together and I didn’t wanna be faster than you so I changed out of them before I came in today.”
“I uh, I had the same idea, actually,” he chuckled as he tried to keep his balance, but she instinctively placed her arm under his to keep him steady. He was extra tall now, towering over her without skates with the added height from his. Like a tree, a Willow and her tree.  
“Oh, so does this mean skates are no longer against school policy?” she said sweetly.
“Oh no, they uh definitely are,” he said, fully in her embrace now.
“So you’re knowingly breaking school policy for me?” she asked. “Ooh, how romantic.”
He averted his eyes to the ground and Willow’s heart did a skip when she saw him struggle to find a clever comeback and instead found a vivid blush splashed across his face. She was glad that the events from Friday hadn’t changed her favorite part of their dynamic. In truth, that was the best response Hunter could have hoped for but as usual she stumped him.
“Uh, well I hope you don’t mind but after I dropped you off at your house I went back to the school and I picked up the flowers you… had,” she didn’t want to say ‘threw at my feet in hurt’ even though that technically was accurate. “And I spruced ‘em up. You picked a really nice selection.”
“Oh, uh thanks yeah,” he replied, secretly thankful she appreciated his efforts as he took notice of the arrangement in her other hand.”I uh… read a book about it once.”
“Cool,” she said, biting her lip like she was dying to say something. “So I uh, brought them because I thought they were really nice and if I had asked you to the dance like I wanted, well… I would’ve brought you flowers so I thought….”
“You brought these for me?” Hunter asked breathlessly. 
“Yeah,” she said, suddenly flustered by her own actions. “But now I’m realizing I’m just giving you the same flowers you were going to give to me and that’s probably stupid so I’m sorry if I-.”
“It’s not stupid!” He said louder than he meant to. “I uh… thanks.” 
Willow giggled as she handed them to him. “So, you were gonna give them to me, right?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah well when I thought you had… well I know it’s customary not to show up empty handed so I wanted to be prepared.”
“And you said you read a book about flowers?”
“Uh yeah maybe a few.”
“So you picked those particular flowers for a particular reason then?”
He gulped. He knew she knew what the flowers meant, he had hoped she would know but hearing her say it aloud made him nervous. He wasn’t going to take it back, wasn’t going to deny it but he had picked these particular flowers to say what he didn’t have another way to say. 
“I guess I-I did yes.”
“Good,” she smiled. “Because I wanted to give them to you because they’re the same flowers I would have picked for you. Because I…  have also read a few books about them.”
“Oh yeah well that figures since you’re in the gardening club and you-uh,” he looked from the transformed bouquet (not before noting she had added a few flowers of her own to enhance it) back to her looking as though she was waiting. She was waiting for him.
Waiting for him to understand why they’d buy the same flowers. 
“Hunter, you know I like you, right?”
She said it so simply, so easily, so street-of-factly as though she was reminding him of the weather or day of the week. He had hoped everything was adding up but when he applied probability to the idea of Willow liking him he always left room for error. He was always 75% sure or 80% but never 100%. He knew his judgment was clouded by a selfish, confusing desire. He knew wanting wasn’t enough to make something so. But he didn’t know how else to turn the gamete, he didn’t see how just being himself was enough to win her over. 
But somehow it was. 
“I… suspected that maybe the feelings between us were… slightly more than platonic?” He said, unable to bring forth a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ because it just wasn’t simple for him, it just wasn’t. “That’s uh what the gardenias were meant to symbolize.” He wasn’t nearly as confident and cool and he had sought out to be, but that didn’t seem to bother Willow who was bouncing on her heels as the words bubbled up inside her, as though they couldn’t decide if she was about to fly away or burst as she delighted in his response and was eager to share more.
“So I was wondering if you’d want to come to my roller derby match later,” she said bashfully. “I know it’s kind an unusual date since we can’t really talk while I’m skating and it’s a little loud so I don’t know if you’d feel comfortable and it’s okay if you’re not but either way after we could go get ice cream and I know this spot in the park by the lake and I thought we could-.”
“A date?” Hunter gulped, acting as though the word had been lost to society until Willow rediscovered it. He wasn’t used to second chances, especially when he felt he hadn’t earned the first one, but once again Willow knew more.
“Uh yeah,” she said with a nervous giggle. “Tonight.”
“W-with me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But… why?”
“Because I like you silly.”
“I know but… why?” he looked at her from behind the flowers, almost startled.
He could justify that Willow didn’t know him well enough to like him, but the side of him that she did know wasn’t exactly the most appealing. The students called him a narc, a nerd, annoying; things he couldn’t exactly argue with. But beneath that even he wasn’t exactly sure what he was, so did Willow see more or did she just not believe it? Sometimes he didn’t really like being himself so it was hard to keep up the charade that someone as vibrant and silly as Willow would like being with him more than what was necessary.
“I told you,” she said sweetly as she pushed past a rose to see him better. “I can tell you’re a warm and friendly person. I also know you’re smart and passionate and cute and I wanna know more about you and spend time with you.”
“Wow thanks,” he breathed, holding her gaze as everything else around them went silent. His instinct to mention how packed his schedule was as he had grown to instinctively do when he longed to do anything that couldn’t enrich his transcript. He didn’t want to talk her out of it or deny he liked the sound of it, he just didn’t know how to say that yet. “Y-you too.”
“Thanks,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was also wondering if maybe you’d wanna wear my captain’s jacket.”
“Wear your jacket?” “Yeah, cause Skara has her boyfriend wear hers as a way to like show everyone they’re together so I thought maybe if you wanted to we could… do that… too.”
It took a moment for Hunter to process the request within the request but when he finally did, his eyes widened in wonder. “You want me to be your boyfriend?”
“Mhm-hmm,” she said with a smile and a nod.
It was everything all at once, Hunter was sure he must have wandered into a dream.
“And you want people to know I’m your boyfriend?”
“Mhm-hmm,” she repeated, this time more bubbly as she felt like she was about to leap out of her skin. “I uh I know it’s technically breaking dress code and it might be too soon so it’s okay if you don’t-.”
“I’ll wear it!” he said much louder than he meant to, as though worried that not answering right away would cause her to take it back. “I-I wanna wear it! Of course I will! Yes!”
“Okay!” Willow giggled as she bent down to fish it from her bag. She held it out to Hunter and he looked at it like it was a corner of the sky. She took the flowers back from him as he slipped the jacket over his uniform. He knew it was impractical and he would get too hot and surely be told by the first teacher who saw him to keep it in his locker but he didn’t care. The smell of fresh grass and jasmine filled his nose, and he felt giddy to be in the jacket he had seen her in so many times. His arms were longer than hers and the sleeves bunched higher up on his arms but it had always been long on her and it fell perfectly on him. It was pristine and he knew she had washed and carefully folded it with the intention to give it to him. 
“H-how do I look?”
“Cute!” she beamed as she smoothed the collar and Hunter felt he would melt. He meant alot to her. She didn’t care that talking to him could be considered social suicide, let alone so publicly declaring an advanced friendship between them. She had a confidence rooted in kindness that he hoped was contagious enough that he made her feel as safe and seen as he did in her perfect, peridot eyes. But as much as he was willing to publicly wear his feelings for her on his sleeve (well technically it was her sleeve since it was her jacket, right?) there were still things he felt more comfortable expressing in private. 
“Um…c-can I give you something of mine to wear?” he asked timidly, clearing his throat as he tried to shake the nerves to sound suave.
Willow nodded excitedly, having the exact Monday she had hoped for as Hunter reached inside to his own jacket as he fetched something small from it and quickly placed it in her hands.
“Your honor society pin?” Willow marveled as though he had given her a diamond. “Hunter, are you sure?”
“Yeah, uh Amity lets Luz wear hers and I always secretly thought it was kind of… romantic but if you think it's weird I can find something else-.”
“Are you kidding? I love it!” she declared as she held it close to her heart. “Thank you Hunter, this is so sweet! I’m gonna wait to put it on so it doesn’t get lost during the match. Can you hold onto it for me until then?”
“Of course,” he said, as he went to take it. “I’ll give it to you after you win.”
“Aw,” she said. “I think it’ll be my new lucky charm.”
He looked down as saw her hand had not left his, happily content to be held by his as her finger danced to intertwine with his and a very familiar idea reappeared in his head, as though the timing had been gifted to him. But the hallway wasn’t the right place.
“S-shoud I walk you to class then?” he transitioned. “I uh don’t want you to be late.”
“Well then,” she said with delight, reconfiguring their hands to link pinkies with his. “Let’s go.”
“Y-yeah let’s,” said Hunter happily as he allowed her to help him roll slowly down the hall. Her grip on him was gentle, but he felt secure in his link to her. 
“Um, actually I need to make a small detour first,” he said after a moment when they had escaped one of the more populated parts on the hallway.
“Oh, of course,” said Willow. “Did you forget something?”
“Uh, no I just wanted to see if I could get a vase for the flowers,” he said. “To keep them looking great, er m-maybe there’s one in the janitor’s closet?’
“You wanna look in the janitor’s closet?” Willow repeated. 
“Uh… yeah?”
“Hmmm… sounds good to me!” she said with a shrug as they turned the corner, and ever the gentleman he held the door open for her.
She knew he knew nothing (or at least, wasn’t able to focus on in this moment) the implications of quickly whisking her into a janitor’s closet before the bell rang. But she couldn’t wait to see his face when she told him.
He carefully closed the door behind them as Willow took in the sight of carefully organized buckets, mops, and large rolls of toilet paper. There was barely enough room in the closet for the both of them let alone a shelf of emergency vases.
“So… just need to get a vase, huh?” she asked playfully and Hunter quickly spun to face her, his face stung with guilt.
“Okay, to be honest I’m fairly certain there are no vases in here,” he admitted, unaware it was unnecessary. “Actually, I’m positive; I put them away myself after the student council luncheon.”
“So then, what are we here looking for?’
“Um well, actually I thought I could uh,” Hunter began as he cleared his throat. “G-give you uh something else for luck...too.”
“Oh yeah?” Willow asked, raising her eyebrow flirtatiously. “What did you have in mind?”
It sent Hunter over the edge as he let out a high, nervous laugh and hid his face in the bouquet, overwhelmed in a way that felt both new and familiar. He felt the subtle need to still check to see they were not being watched before he quickly darted down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. His heart pounded as he pulled away just as quickly as she looked back at him with an absolutely smitten gaze.
“Hehe okay,” she giggled, her mind joyfully flooding with the reality that she couldn’t tease Hunter about people thinking they ducked into the closet to kiss and get him flustered at the  misunderstanding.Now she was the one flustered but there was no misunderstanding. 
“I just um thought it was fair ya know?” he said as though his actions needed a more complex explanation. “Since you gave me your jacket and the flowers and that’s two things I wanted to give you two things so you would know t-that I uh-.”
“Well hold on, technically you gave me the flowers first so you did give me two things so I actually owe you one,” she stood up on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment before returning to the ground. He smiled, feeling as though he was a part of the world’s best inside joke .
“Well you added flowers of your own so that can count as another thing,” he said, matching her tone, leaning down to press another kiss to her other cheek and lingering for a moment just as she did. Her face was soft and warm and somehow made him feel like a dream did.
“Actually, I should probably thank you for each flower,” said Willow, shuffling forward to take hold of his lapel as she brought him down to her level this time as her lips crashed into him like a wave, seeking to cover every inch of his doting, dumbstruck face as he surrendered his balance to her affections. He was more than fine collapsing into her as she decorated him with rapid kisses, as though she was bestowing one for every flower in her greenhouse.
Too enamored with each other they didn’t notice the door handle begin to turn. They didn’t notice the door had opened until their private, idyllic atmosphere of the closet was broken by the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway.
They froze as they slowly turned their heads to see who stood in the doorframe. Hunter panicked, knowing how it would look to have a student council member littered with dress code violations sitting on a bucket as he forgot how to breathe because the prettiest girl in the whole school covered his face in kisses. What would they think?
Well, what beside ‘lucky him?’
More importantly, how would their reputations survive? He winced., knowing Willow must be mortified to be caught with him and having someone think-
“Oh, hi Gus!” Willow giggled, and Hunter could tell she found it more humorous than embarrassing. Hunter held his breath as he tried to read Gus’ expression, knowing if he was at risk of being blackmailed or sent to the principal’s office or if he’d tell Willow she was making a bad decision or if he’d-.
“Oh, so he said ‘yes?’” Gus asked nonchalantly, taking the jacket as a sign in addition to their… situation. 
“Yup!” Willow replied happily, adjusting her glasses.
“Cool, congrats guys,” said Gus, looking down to check the time and text Luz to let her know Willow wasn’t running late but was just… occupied. “Does he wanna sit with us at lunch?”
“Do you?” Willow asked, admiring the lipstick marks all over his face, a lipstick she may or may not have purposely worn in case an opportunity such as this presented itself. 
He nodded, unable to form worlds at the moment. 
“Cool, well the first bell just rang,” Gus let them know as he went to shut the door. “Don’t be late.”
“K, thanks!” called Willow. “Bye!”
“Did you uh wanna get to class then?” Hunter asked with a gulp, weirdly not caring about preserving his perfect attendance as he was captivated by the way even in the low watt lighting she reassembled an angel. He was suddenly aware of her hands still resting on his chest as though keeping him tethered to the earth and allowing him to linger in the moment just as her lips had once lingered on his. 
Please say no, please say no the less poetic part of his brain couldn’t help but think.
“We’ve got time still,” she said as though reading his mind as she wiped a smudge of raspberry gloss from his top lip before leaping up to assure the door was really locked this time. “I know the quickest way everywhere on skates.”
And she crashed into him again.
She didn’t mention that she may have memorized his schedule in order to increase her chances of running into him between classes after the first time he had threatened to write her up. Ever since she had been doodling his initials in hearts in the corner of her notebooks, finding delight in every rip and tear her mode of transportation granted her as she knew he would drop the facade to sew it up for her, treasuring every time she got him to crack a smile
He spent so much time trying to catch her that it had taken him so long to realize that she was waiting for him to catch up to her.
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Nosferatu I.
Vampire Ruffilo x female reader
Nosferatu! Ruffilo, Nicholas is not necessarily very mentally stable, a bit obsessive too, and a perv, masturbation, voyeurism.
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I PUT MY SOUL IN THAT THING. I'm pretty sure I'm about to pass out. Seriously it took me days to proofread it because I'm weak and lazy and I thought I could just write gothic stuff like it was the XIXth century as if I was a native English speaker. Spoiler alert: turns out I cannot.
Anyway, there will be a second part but that second part is long as fuck and I didn't want to put everything in there because I'm not writing 10k words long chapters. So I'll have you waiting for the rest of the story. But here, take my fucked up stuff. It sucks, it's short, but it's here.
Where Noah is a young and arrogant vampire, Nicholas is more mature and full of remorse (and a total psycho).
Mama’s tag list:  @philomenie @gipsonnikki @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy  @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner  @loeytuan98  @sthnog  @cookiesupplier  @cncohshit  @lma1986  @skulliecadaver-blog @talialovesmiw @to-be-written @4rtificialfolio @arkiliastuff
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He used to be so gorgeous, him who used to profane the bed of many people of the fair sex. The type of man any woman's mind would go blank just by the sight of it. He used to be so gorgeous, tall, and talented. But now all that was left of him was a name.
Nosferatu. What a pathetic sobriquet.
What was the worth of his life now? What deserved a soul like his, doomed to damnation? Nothing. He deserved nothing, only the pity he could experience for himself. Those crooked fingers didn't merit to be seen, nor this monstrous face.
He used to be so gorgeous but now, now all he was reduced to was awful looks and a stupid nickname. He had lost all his greatness, all his presence for the sake of an immortality he no longer even wanted. He had dreamt of eternity, a forever life that would grant him power, money, love.
Love.
No love was left for him. No one stayed by his side after all these centuries. His body was perishing like a bird hiding to die. He was ageing in the worst kind of way. In an inhuman kind of way.
Sometimes he tried to remember what he used to look like but even then he couldn't see it anymore. All he could see in the mirror was the time that had passed and the lack of blood that destroyed him without ever letting him die. Sometimes he also told himself that he deserved it, that it was his sentence for being so greedy during his young years, thinking that he would pass eternity in the arms of simple women, women who would have been ready to give him their life. Oh, he could kill to live that again, he would die to live that again, just one last time. To feel the heat and the adoration from another someone.
And when he thought about that, he thought about her.
The first time he saw her, he wondered for a second if it was people like her who inhabited the Garden of Eden. People like her deserved to live in the heavens and were cursed to live in that hell of human life. He wondered that for a second, to not regret his appearance. To not regret the fact that he couldn't dare to approach her even if he wanted to. He would kill for her, die for her, even live for her. Live that miserable life if it meant spending eternity by her side.
Nicholas was consumed by her presence, his mind haunted by her image incessantly, day and night. Other women held no allure for him now; his thoughts were fixated solely on her. Yet, how could he dare approach her, she who was so pure, so holy, while he remained steeped in sin? She was beyond his reach, an angelic figure in a realm far removed from his own. Accustomed to the company of prostitutes, he could only hope that one day, amidst her divine radiance and devout Christian devotion, she might cast her eyes upon him.
As time passed, his longing intensified, driving him ever closer to her. The first time he spoke to her, she seemed unaffected by his gaze, as though she perceived him differently from others, as though she saw the man he was beneath his sinful exterior. If such were the case, he thanked the heavens for this unexpected mercy.
It seemed a miracle from above, an answer to his relentless prayers. How could it be possible? He feared her seeing him, hearing him, uncovering the darkness within his soul. But in her presence, surrounded by her saintly aura, perhaps he was not as rotten as he believed. Just as animals flee from their predators and dragonflies shun the shadows, he felt compelled to flee from her, lest his darkness tarnish her innocence.
"Pray for me, pray for the salvation of our souls, and I shall pray for you."
Perhaps he was not irredeemable, after all. Perhaps his perception of himself was skewed by his past sins, by the atrocities he had committed. He saw himself through his own tainted lens, blind to the possibility that she saw him differently, saw the goodness that still lingered within him.
In her presence, he began to see himself anew, to crave her with a fervour that surpassed all else. He longed for her touch, her gaze, her salvation. With any other, he would have succumbed to his basest instincts, sating his desires without remorse. But with her, he found himself captivated, entranced by her naïveté, her chastity.
She became his guiding light, his salvation in a world corrupted with darkness. Though their encounters remained chaste, devoid of lust or romance, he found himself drawn to her with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He cherished every moment spent in her presence, every fleeting glance, every whispered word.
However, she was too kind, too pure for him to pollute. He dared not cross the line, to stain her innocence with his immorality.
Until one fateful night, as he wandered through the rectory garden, drawn once more to her window. It was a simple gesture, a fleeting glance to ensure her safety, but it would change everything. As he peered into her room, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, he perceived her, naked.
In that moment, he realized that she was unlike any other, her beauty transcending the physical realm. He already knew she was so much more but his desire for her, once suppressed, now burned with an insatiable fire. He longed to feel her skin beneath his fingertips, to taste her essence upon his lips.
In the shadowed embrace of the night, she stood, an ethereal vision of delicate beauty, unaware of the storm brewing within the depths of Nicholas's soul. His vow echoed in the caverns of his mind like a cursed refrain, a promise forged in the crucible of his darkest desires. He had sworn that he would never defile her virtue with the stain of his lust. But, as she moved unknowingly, marked by purity, madness clawed at the fragile confines of his sanity.
Nicholas had known many a depravity in his timeless existence. Nicholas had sinned so much before. Sins that festered like an eyesore upon his immortal soul, but sins he bore with the weight of indifference. What use was there for remorse in the heart of one condemned to an eternity of solitude?
But now, as he stood in the cloak of night, his gaze fixed upon her, he felt a stirring of something long dormant within him. A flicker of care, of forbidden longing burning like a phantom flame. It was a torment he had not known before, a torment born of the realization that he cared, cared too much, and yet not enough to resist the call of his baser instincts.
In the hush of that nocturnal sanctuary, she moved to put her nightgown on, unaware of the predator lurking in the shadows. And as she dressed herself, Nicholas succumbed to the darkness of his fantasy.
With trembling hands, he unfastened is belt, allowing it to fall to the ground like a silent plea for absolution. A hand slipped beneath the fabric of his attire, a profane offering to the insatiable hunger gnawing at the last strands of his sanity. The moment hung suspended in time, a symphony of temptation and remorse warring for dominance within his fractured soul.
And then, as if in defiance of the heavens themselves, he bit down his lower lip, a desperate attempt to stifle the sinful moan of ecstasy threatening to spill forth from his lips.
With haste, his fingers passed through the band of his underwear as he only caressed his tip before stroking himself a little. There was nothing in the world that this Nicholas treasured more than sex, except for blood maybe. But god that woman was all he desired and the fact that she was far from his touch was killing him.
Yet, even if he tried to struggle against his sinful urges, groanings escaped him the moment he pressed his palm against his member. He observed her with a hunger that defied reason, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her form as she tended to her hair with tender care. It was a simple gesture, devoid of any overt carnality, but it was enough to kindle a fire within him.
Nicholas found himself trapped in her gaze, a glance that pierced through the room. It was as if she possessed an otherworldly awareness, a subtle acknowledgement of his presence that sent shivers down his spine. His breath caught in his throat, a stifled gasp escaping his lips as he struggled to maintain composure.
In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, suspended in the fragile balance between desire and restraint. His hand continued its desperate rhythm, betraying the turmoil raging within him. Even as his body yearned for her, Nicholas wanted to look at her, to observe her like he never did, in the vulnerability of the night.
She remained oblivious to his presence, lost in the mundane tasks of dressing herself, unaware of the tempest brewing just beyond her window. But for Nicholas, her every movement was a symphony of temptation, a call beckoning him ever closer to the edge of reason.
With each passing second, the boundaries of propriety blurred, giving way to a primal hunger that consumed him whole. He was a man possessed, shackled by the chains of his own desire, unable to resist the pull of her allure.
And as he stood there, bathed in the pale glow of the moon, Nicholas knew that he had ventured too far into the darkness, surrendering himself to a passion that could only lead to ruin. But, even in the depths of his despair, he found solace in the knowledge that for one brief moment, he had allowed himself to want her as he damned the consequences.
The more he touched himself the more he frowned his brows, slowing the movements of his fingers. He tried to calm his tempestuous breathing, tried not to come in his garment like a young one but it was an undying torture.
In the hushed sanctuary of her chamber, she moved with a delicate grace, her form, a silhouette against the flickering candlelight. Her slender arms swayed gently as she reached out, fingertips brushing against the handle of the candleholder, guiding it to its rightful place on the nightstand. The candle, cradled within her grasp, cast dancing shadows across the room. There was nothing more than innocence within her every movement.
But as she performed this simple act, Nicholas found himself trapped in a web of his thoughts. Though her actions spoke only of purity and grace, his mind betrayed him, wandering down forbidden pathways fraught with desire and longing.
His hand pressed on himself, he groaned again, his forehead covered in sweat betraying him. He couldn't handle anything anymore. He touched himself like she touched the light. And he whispered her name as he finished between his fingers.
She continued her ethereal motions through the room. Each step echoed softly against the ancient floorboards, a melancholic melody that stirred the very air around her. With a gentle sigh, she departed, leaving behind the confines of her sanctuary.
As she vanished into the shadows beyond, the weight of her absence hung heavy in the air, leaving Nicholas to wrestle with his unruly desires amidst the solitude of the rectory garden. Alone with his sins, he was left to confront the horrors of longing that raged within his heart. He was left to face the monstrosity he just committed.
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heavenlymorals · 22 hours
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(Warning: There are mentions of sexism in this post because I refuse to not acknowledge the time these people were living in and what that entails for men and women.)
The saddest thing about the Arthur and Mary romance is that it didn't happen because they were plagued by the same problem- family in 1800s America and what that entailed for men and women.
In Arthur's case, it was more obvious. He felt he had a debt to the gang, a debt he could never pay back- to Dutch and Hosea, his father figures who saved him, to the men he saw as brothers in arms, to the women he had to take care of and loved, and he could never for once think for a moment that he could also be kind to himself. Arthur Morgan, a strong man, a provider, a protector, someone that people NEEDED. Never once did people in the game ask Arthur what HE wants. It's always about their needs, and Arthur, being who he is, a selfless person to selfish people, would slave away to the ends of the Earth, to hell and back, just to be that pillar that they see him as, for Arthur Morgan is a man who had the world on his shoulders and couldn't, not even once, think about giving that responsibility to another man. He never could. His family consumed him to where his truest self, his most authentic self came only in the thin pages of a leather journal and the voice of lead. His family consumed him and the love he had for Mary, this want to have for once, something truly to himself, was inconceivable. How could he leave them? How? He couldn't. No matter how much he may want to, he just can't.
For Mary? Her family consumed her long ago, as soon as she was born, for she committed the cardinal sin of being born a woman in the 1800s. Whatever ambitions she had, they were impossible. The world made her horribly dependent from the moment she was born. Her prospects was being a lady, knowing department, and securing a marriage for the sake of her family and herself, otherwise, more likely than not, she will be thrusted into poverty or shame or both. And then she met Arthur and he showed her a world beyond the gilded age and she was happy because this love she had for him was her own and her experiences were ones that she wanted, not that her family wanted. She was happy with him, so terribly happy, but her dependence on her family crushed her- socially, economically, culturally. So when her family forced her to marry Mr. Linton, she agreed and forsaked her own love because how could she abandon her family? Her elopement would shame them and make her a disgrace to her sex.
They were both trapped by their families for different reasons but in the end, they decide to put themselves first and it was already too late.
When Mary called for Arthur, it wasn't for him and if it was, she masked it up by asking him for help with her family, the family that she forsaked everything for because how could she not? And Arthur helped. By God, he helped. Not necessarily because he wants to, but that's what love has done to him. It made him the one work stallion out of many who will one day be put down by sheer exhaustion of the weight on its back and the reward of very little. And Arthur would leave and go back to the gang, because how could he leave them?
But after years of abuse, loss of personhood, and the struggles of being a woman in 1800s America, Mary decides to be selfish. She saw how her father saw her as truly less than nothing when he decided to sell a broach that belonged to her beloved mother and then to be passed on to her. All that suffering she went through meant nothing because her father has shamed the family she tried so hard to keep happy and her brother was off to college and was no longer held on by the shackles of the wayward patriarch, Mr. Gillis. She decides to be selfish and asks Arthur to run away with her, so she can finally make do on that proposal long ago to be together, married and happy.
But Arthur then makes the same decision she made all those years ago when he proposed to her. He chooses his family. They need him, but maybe now it's finally over? He can pay his debt to them, have them live happy and free, and then chase his own happiness, his own treasure in the image of a wonderful and beautiful creature by the name of Mary Linton- and maybe in the future, Mary Morgan. After over 20 years- maybe he can be selfish.
But when he realized that these people that he dedicated his life to were draining him of life and hopes and dreams and gave him nothing in return but more troubles, it was too late.
He couldn't let go of these people who ruined him and Mary realized this. Her final letter was a heartfelt goodbye because as she finally broke free of those binds that tied her, Arthur didn't or couldn't. He made the same mistake as she did all those years ago and she couldn't handle such heartbreak anymore, for their souls were slaves to them who didn't deserve it.
And when Arthur finally did break free of those soulful chains, of those people who he loved so deeply, it was too late. Sickness turned a strong man to a husk and as he choked on his blood, he could only get solace from the fact that he tried. He tried to be his authentic self, he tried to be his own man with his own actions, he tried to be good, he tried to change, he tried, and his reward?
Choking and gasping on his blood due to actions in the past he never wanted to do but did anyways because the people he loved asked him to and he just couldn't say no.
Both Mary and Arthur loved each other. Fully and deeply but as their souls were entwined, their bodies and minds were held in bondage by a man's duty to protect and provide and a woman's duty of deportment and honor to families who ruined them. Both of them expect the other to forsake their family for them, but neither of them could do that at the correct time together.
All that remains of that love, true and pure, is Mary's ring on another woman's finger through her wish that Arthur could give the ring to another couple who weren't trapped in the same duty that they were, and that if they were, they had the strength to be selfish.
What a sad, sad story of two poor souls, Arthur Morgan and Mary Linton.
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iamleesi · 2 days
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THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER
Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader
Summary: You were rescued from Hydra and then joined the Avengers. Bucky seems to hate you and you’re sent on a mission together for undefined time.
Warnings: Mention of experiments, torture and d3ad bodies and things like that. Don’t read if you’re not comfortable with that. Bucky being a bit of an asshole towards you. Also the reader has a name and a last name if that counts as a warning?
Other: This will be some sort of MCU x Supernatural fic. English isn’t my fist language so I apologize in advance for any mistake I made. -> 18+ !!
-> Masterlist
-> Part two
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-> Hydra is home (01)
You were born in hell. That’s what Hydra was for you and for everyone who had witnessed the horrors of what happened inside the walls of that place - and there was more than one facility. The worst part is that you didn’t even know, you thought it was normality.
You thought it was normal being used and trained to be a lethal assassin at a young age; you were the youngest and they made you feel special for that. Hydra’s perfect child, that’s how they called you. The only toy you’ve ever had was a knife, and you never questioned it or thought it was horrifying up until you were an adult.
From the earliest age, you were taught that your suffering served a greater purpose, that your pain was going to save that fucked up world you lived in. Not that you had any idea of which color the sky was up until you were six, let alone knowing the rest of the world and it’s shit. You knew no other life besides the walk between your room and the laboratory - the place where you were tied up to those cold metal tables under the gaze of Hydra’s scientists.
But to you, that was normality. That was home, the place you were the safest in - they said. Hydra fed you lies all your life, making you think their atrocities were for the greater good and that you were needed. What they were doing was needed.
Worst thing? You never complained. Always complied.
You learned later on in years that you were being used to recreate a better Super Soldier serum, like the one they used on Captain America and The Winter Soldier. A better, more effective serum that was gonna give them their disciplined weapon, with a few more characteristics. It was a mystery how you survived, to you and to everyone who took a look in your DNA.
They made you a freak.
When you were fifteen, things changed and your whole world turned upside down. It was in the middle of the night that you heard the facility’s alarm, the loud and scary sound meant one thing: bad people had broke in. So you did as you practiced: you moved the rug on floor and used that safety trapdoor to hide, hoping that they wouldn’t find you.
Meanwhile, SHIELD agents were storming in every room of the base, looking for either survivors or Hydra members.
Your heart stopped when the little door above you swung open and you saw a masked man pointing a rifle at you. Hydra was right, you decided then, those were bad people. You don’t exactly remember what happened after, you don’t remember if you tried to fight them or if you passed out. Everything is a blur memory.
What you do remember next, though, is being taken to yet another facility. In the beginning all you could see were monsters who wanted to feed you lies; they said Hydra was bad, that they were a terroristic organization who aimed to rule the world. Crazy, wasn’t it?
Hydra was home.
You didn’t collaborate with them for years, not even when Maria Hill offered you visive proof of how fucked up Hydra was. It was impossible that all you knew, all that you’ve been taught was a lie.
But there was another part: the pain stopped. No more experiments or missions to catch the bad guys with the little help all those samples gave you. No more blood or guns or atrocities - nothing.
Many people amongst SHIELD agents only saw you as just another freak, but weaker than Captain America and with a twisted brain. They saw you as no more than just another Hydra experiment, one that could not be good. You had no name, no family, no friends - you were just existing… and for what? You yourself didn’t know.
Nick Fury was the one who was interested in you. You had heard his name being mentioned a few times before actually meeting him. Perhaps it was just because you had some sort of Super Soldier serum in you and he was only caring for that, but he stepped in and helped you whether you wanted or not.
And he succeeded.
He saw beyond those scars, visible and invisible, recognizing the potential you could have as an actual human being. Fury insisted in your rehabilitation, and with time he saw the first results.
It took you a lot of time and effort to feel like a human being for the first time in 23 years, it wasn’t an easy process by any means and you still weren’t a hundred percent okay with everything. Being told that for fifteen years of you life you were nothing more than a sack of meat with a functioning brain for people to use to their advance wasn’t exactly ideal, especially after learning that it wasn’t normal as you thought.
At first you didn’t even realize how fucked up it was, perhaps you didn’t want to.
But under SHIELD’s care, you started to heal both physically and mentally as best as you could. You were given a name as soon as you were rescued, but you didn’t accept it up until you were 20.
Emma Dayne, that was your new legal name as a free woman. One that had a say in her own life.
That was the name Fury used when you were brought into the Avengers Compound as the newest addition to the team. You, a superhero? Sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Those people fought against the very same people you called family, those same people who raised you. Thankfully, they never held you accountable for that.
Except him.
James Buchanan Barnes. When he looked at you, all he saw was the enemy: someone who, unlike him, had willingly served Hydra for more than half of her life. He made it clear from the start that he didn’t trust you, he was always cold (which wasn’t rare, but even colder with you) and guarded whenever you were around.
Whenever his eyes found your figure, he couldn’t shake off the memories of his past as the Winter Soldier. The feeling of loss for the years that were stolen from him and that life he could never go back to came back as soon as he saw you, and he started to loathe the sight of you - he felt even worse when he saw how much the other teammates liked you.
But you could not blame him. Not even a bit. You took his silence as a reminder of what you had done - maybe if you had opened your eyes sooner you could have done something, anything, to help him.
After all, you two weren’t completely strangers. You both had worked for the same organization, and you saw him from time to time - you felt guilty. As soon as you saw the hatred in his eyes, when you joined the team, you were consumed by guilt.
But then again, the last time you saw him you were eleven. Super Soldier or not, you were a kid. Your therapist - saint woman - was helping you with that, at least. You knew that earning his trust was gonna take time, and maybe a lifetime wasn’t enough - you knew that in his position you would have been the same. Perhaps his trust wasn’t even your goal, you didn’t know what you wanted from him. You just knew that every time his eyes fell on you, you felt small. Smaller than a bug, and you wanted to change that.
You wanted him to know that you weren’t the enemy he thought you were.
It was a Saturday afternoon when Tony Stark’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, contemporarily snapping his fingers to get your attention. “Dayne, stop thinking about princesses and unicorns. I need your attention, sweetie.”
“Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts.” You replied, crossing your legs under the big, round wooden table. You were in the meeting room with the other Avengers - most of them, anyways, and their eyes were all on you. Not judging, some had smiles on their faces.
Except one who wasn’t even looking at you.
“Happens to the best of us too.” He shrugged it off, pointing at himself with a grin. Usual. “But seriously, now I need everyone’s attention or I fear Fury might kill me.” He continued.
“What’s the situation, Tony?” Steve Rogers inquired, his usual serious expression on.
Tony leaned forward on the table, after he sat down as well, clasping his hands together. “We’ve been getting reports of Hydra activity in various parts of the States.” He explained. “Specifically, they’ve been targeting civilians. They’re kidnapping them for, what we suspect, making experiments. They’re targeting people with no family, no friends or someone who wouldn’t look for them. They found the first body near the Donner Lake, in California. The first we were able to identify, at least.”
A picture of a woman appeared on a screen behind Tony, and he continued. “Taylor Harris. She was their first slip- up, as the woman had an ex husband and a kid. He divorced her because apparently she had an addiction to drugs and was physically abusive towards the kid. Ever since then, he got a restraining order against her and the full custody of the kid. Should have gone to jail but she went missing. She actually got missing three weeks ago, and she’s been presumably dead for at least a week.”
“What makes us think this is Hydra?” Clint said, his voice stern. The man had tried to retire about six times and yet there he was. “America is full of psychopaths.”
“True.” Tony nodded. “But they made some tests and traces of the Super Soldier serum was found. If it’s not Hydra, then I don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
“I thought they had the Super Soldier serum already.” Thor frowned, his mighty Mjolnir always by his side. “Why are they kidnapping people?”
“They had something else. They weren’t able to recreate it after they used it on Bucky.” You said, looking at the God. “They tried everything to come close to it, but pretty much all the subjects they experimented on died. Some turned into… things. And eventually got killed when they didn’t comply. I was the only result they had.”
“So… they want another you.” Thor looked at you.
You shrugged. “They want a lot of things. Probably they’re looking forward to make something that can’t break out of their control.”
“If you were ever out of their control.” You heard him mumble those words under his breath, but no one else seemed to hear. You were used to it by now, so you stayed silent as the conversation between the Avengers went on.
“So what do we do?” Natasha sighed, crossing her arms under her chest. Both her feet on the table as it was a habit of her it seemed.
“We send undercover agents.” Tony answered. “The agents being you.” He gestured to the whole room. “Or half of you, the ones suited for the job.” He added.
“Great.” Clint grunted.
“Natasha and Clint, you’re assigned to Las Vegas, Nevada - don’t look at me like that. Fury’s orders.” Tony pointed at the annoyed may sat next to Natasha. All he wanted was some time to play golf, and he was always called in for a new mission. He couldn’t even hear properly anymore.
“Steve and Sharon, you lovebirds are going to Denver, Colorado.” He went on, reading the pair of agents from his phone. “Yelena and Kate, have fun in Lawrence, Kansas.“
“And then… oh. Emma and James, you’re going to Lincoln, Nebraska.” Tony put his phone down. “Sam is momentarily busy in California where they found the body, so for now this is everything. You guys will find other agents there, you’ll meet them once you arrive.”
“Why these cities?” Bucky asked, clenching his jaw. This was the first mission where he was paired up with you, and he didn’t like it one bit. But knowing Fury, there was nothing he could do to change it.
“Because that’s where SHIELD suspects Hydra’s activity. There are some bodies that have been found specifically in these places, they’re unrecognizable and have been there for longer than poor Taylor. They believe they have undercover agents there, so that’s who you have to find.” Tony answered, chewing some cashews he kept in his pockets. For some reason.
“When do we have to leave?” Yelena asked, snatching some cashews from Tony’s hands.
He glared at her before answering. “You’re needed there Monday morning already, I fear. You have today and tomorrow to pack your things and get out of my sight.” He got up from his chair. “Have fun, fellas.”
“Wait a second, what about me?” Wanda asked as Tony was about to leave the room.
“You’re the backup plan, Granger.” Tony chuckled at his own nickname for Wanda. “So are we. They find them, we step in to take them down. Plus I need someone to punch Loki in the face in case he tries something, you’re the only one strong enough to do it.”
“Hey!” Thor sounded offended. “Not the only one!”
“This place is awful.” Loki mumbled.
“Then leave.” Clint scoffed.
“You’re dismissed, children.” Tony walked out. “Try not to stab each other.”
“And boring too.” Loki added.
* * * *
“You’re supposed to fold your clothes before putting them into the bag.” Bucky’s voice remarked dryly, taking your attention away from your bag.
He was leaning against the doorframe of your room, looking at you sternly. As always.
“Thanks for the tip, Barnes.” You retorted, messily throwing a pair of pants inside the bag. You weren’t really having it, ever since you learned that Hydra was kidnapping people to do to them what they did to you. Except that those people had a life before. “What do you want?”
He walked into your room without even asking for permission and tossed a stack of paper on your bed. “The details of this mission and our fake identities, wifey.” He sounded quite calm but you could see he was pissed about it, he always was when it came to you. “Thought you may want to take a look.”
“Uh?” You frowned at the unusual nickname, picking up the papers and reading as fast as you could, until your eyes landed on the role you had to play.
His wife.
What a joke.
“Thanks.” You mumbled, as you felt his burning eyes on you. It’s nothing you haven’t done before with Sam or even Pietro, but pretending to love him and be all affectionate with him in public when this was the longest conversation you’ve ever had? That was gonna be interesting, to say the least.
He nodded and turn around to walk out, but before he actually left he couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “One wrong move is all I need, Dayne.” He said, and that sounded like a threat.
Your eyes narrowed, a mixture of frustration and anger bubbling within you. “If I wanted to screw you guys over I would have done it already. It’s been a year, Sergeant, I believe you could trust me by now. Or at least start to.”
“Trust is earned, not given.” He replied, his tone leaving no room for arguments. “And you haven’t earned mine.”
“I’ll fucking live with it.”
“Have a good night.” He said without meaning it in the slightest, before leaving you to yourself once again.
“Go fuck yourself.”
Bucky Barnes was your personal headache.
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42bakery · 2 days
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ok. as someone who has only knows motogp is a race and has only seen a few gif’s. I am now captivated but can u please tell/direct me to a primer because i am missing the LORE! with marc especially can we start there!!
Hi anon 👋👋👋👋
I'm actually the worst person to talk if you want lore from Marc. I can tell you that people say that All In and The Rookie, both documentaries about Marc are good (Didn't watch any). I can tell you to look or ask to @usermarquez or @marcsmarquez (please don't bother Emma too much, she's not having the best moment at the time) for Marc lore.
Keeping with the documentaries, @kingofthering @marquezian or @kwisatzworld (They are more Vale orientated, but Marc and Vale history sometimes interact) did a compilation of all Marc documentaries. They also post about other documentaries they watch and make gifset, so I recommend if you want to learn about the sport in general.
Another way to learn about Marc that I would recommend is looking at Box Repsol (page or YouTube) and Honda (YouTube) because they used to make riders talk about themselves and do silly challenges, which sometimes they made them relax. There's even a interview where Marc interviews himself and ask the questions journalist doesn't ask but he wants to hear.
If you want sources in general, then MotoGP did their equivalent of Drive to Survive, it's on Amazon Prime and it's called MotoGP Unlimited. They follow all riders for the 2021 season and they do it mostly chronologically and no added drama all bullshit. The only downside is that it's in their mother tongue (Spanish, Catalan, Italian, French and Portuguese (Did Taka speak in Japanese at some point?)) but includes subtitles (a bit incorrect to clean some images and to appeal the American market), but overall was good. I recommend you get used to need subtitles because those guys refuse to speak English when they are in the same room when they use Italian or Spanish to communicate with everyone (they also talk with their hands, but that's for another moment).
For general learning, there's Hitting the Apex, it's a bit old, but gives you a sense of what MotoGP is. And more recently MotoGP also did There Can Be Only One, which follows the more important riders or the ones called to fight for the tittle for the whole year. It has 2 season and can be found on MotoGP Videopass (you have to pay) or in YouTube. If you get Videopass (it's expensive, but you can watch all races all year long and races up to 2000s or maybe 1990s) you can search and find other MotoGP exclusive content.
I highly recommend for anyone to watch whatever has the DORNA seal of approval because 1) the racing scenes are directly taken from a real races and 2) DORNA likes to keep things real. No fake drama all bullshit, probably they will spin it to look wholesome.
Now if you want podcast or other sources I think I need to call Ash @motocorsas and @its-always-silly-season for that.
I'm sorry for not being able to help a lot more. If you would have asked me about Dani Pedrosa or Pedrenzo, then I'm totally your girl.
Sorry if I forgot to include any Marc expert of If I forgot something, I'm actually inviting all of you to help and guide this anon to learn about MotoGP and Marc.
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en-hazed · 4 hours
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PAIRING: slenderman!sunghoon x fem!reader
GENRE / CW: this is kinda like scary? reader is alone in the woods so you can def guess what’s going on
WARNING: sunghoon doesn’t have some kind of age, so let’s say he’s like 100 years olds lmao, reader is 19, psychological horror (?) kinda, smut, dub-con, sunghoon is fucking big like in all meanings, tentacles, creampie, kissing, angst (?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), petnames, praising, begging, dacriphilia, size kink, if i missed something i’ll edit this later. MINORS DNI.
A/N: this is purely based on the game and theories about slenderman (not on the movie), so i’m really sorry if there’s something that doesn’t really match the storyline :( also im not rlly good at writing smut
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There was something that you found interesting and endearing about walking alone in the woods as a relief. You weren’t the kind of girl to spend much time with friends since you enjoyed more your alone time, even though you’ve heard some rumors about you in college that you were weird for such thing, but it’s not like you really cared, at all.
You never feared the dark as a little child, your mom did think there was something wrong with it since all of the kids usually are scared of it, but for you, it was different. You find comfort in it –somehow– but it wasn’t something to be ashamed of.
Today was one of those days where school ended a little late, and you decided to take a late walk to the woods that was near to where you lived. The feeling of the cold breeze hitting you felt like a kiss, even wearing your big puffy coat, you still could feel it.
Being by yourself had some advantages, such as spending as much time as you want to exploring the deep parts of the woods, looking at little details and also observing the pretty dark blue color in the sky.
Roaming around, you found some weird looking note that was glued to the tree, as you were getting closer, you got goosebumps. You usually didn’t find things in the woods since no one really came here because it’s been kinda abandoned, so it made you feel really curious if somebody came before you and put things just for fun to scare people off.
But the note was really weird looking. Why did the note say “HELP ME” in such a creepy writing? Was there someone here following you all along pranking you?
You definitely felt followed, but that didn’t change the growing curiosity that you had wondering if there were more notes. Walking faster and careful looking through all the trees weren’t sufficient, you definitely needed some kind of flashlight, and lucky for you, you always carry one in your backpack.
Getting the flashlight, turning it on, you started looking for more information. You definitely thought that you looked kinda crazy running around the woods if somebody came by, but there was something so interesting about this that you just couldn’t let it go.
In the distance, you could see a new note attached to another tree, you rapidly went and took it, this one saying “CAN’T RUN”. Adrenaline was hell, you felt like you could explode, were all these notes some kind of puzzle that you needed to complete? How many of them are? Such thoughts were in your mind as you were trying to calm yourself while looking at the piece of paper with the word that has been written.
Taking both notes, you did not wanna lose them, so you put them both in your pocket, and resumed roaming around. You noticed there was some kind of strange road that led you to an ever bigger part of the woods, and also, to some new pages.
This time, there was some kind of tall, really tall man drawn on with some words, such as saying “NO” and “FOLLOWS”. Is this some kind of prank? You just couldn’t step out, you were kinda lost, you’ve never been this deep inside and now, it was kinda scaring you. Your phone didn’t have any kind of connection or signal around, so you were definitely fucked.
Taking this situation lightly wasn’t a great idea at all, you knew your mom was worried since you don’t last that much time outside that much. Anxiety was killing you at this point, what the hell was going on? Also, it was also getting really late, you took a little peak of you clock, and it was almost past midnight.
Running around was simply not helping, you felt like you were stuck in some fucked up maze that didn’t have any kind of exit. You wanted to scream, you really did, but you didn’t want people thinking that you were getting murdered or something. Starting to feel dizzy, everything was looping, feeling like you couldn’t get out was one of, if not, your biggest fear. Without noticing, you felt to the ground, your strength was gone, and your head was pounding.
More than 10 minutes passed since you were still in the ground, until you felt some kind of presence, the goosebumps coming back again. You were too far gone to even try to open your eyes, so if someone tried to kill right there, you didn’t care at that point.
The breeze was getting colder, creaking was louder, and there was something there with you, but you didn’t dare to look. Some steps were getting closer to you, and you almost started praying to God to help you out if he was even hearing your pleads.
Now you were crying, you were the one that started following all of those stupid notes going nowhere, and now you were stuck in the deep zone of the woods. After some minutes of thinking, you had the guts to speak up.
— Is somebody here? Anyone? Please, I swear I’m a good person, I won’t do anything to you, but please, I need a reply. — You stated, trying to look around in the dark, since you forgot where you put your flashlight and also, you lost your glasses.
Nothing, you did not receive some kind of reply, so now you were thinking if everything that’s happening is some kind of hallucination from your mind.
From the distance, you swear you saw something, like some big thing standing there, but you couldn’t even seem to confirm that since your poor eyesight wasn’t helping you at all. But that weird creature looking thing was getting closer this time, and you didn’t have that much space to move, so you had to act fast and start walking from there.
Looking back wasn’t something that you wanted to do, if you did that it was gonna be really scary knowing something was chasing you in the dark. But what you didn’t know, that tall white man could teleport if he wanted to, and now, he was right in front of you.
You froze, what was that? You starting looking up and down trying to figure out if it was human or not. He was wearing some kind of suit, his hands were so pale and white, his fingers were so long and his face, you couldn’t really recognize it. He did have some prominent facial features, such as his nose and eyebrows, and also his hair.
— Are you lost, little thing? Have you collected my pages? — He finally spoke, his voice was… something. Not really deep nor sharp, it was just unexplainable.
— I’m sorry, what? — You asked, pages? Why is that his first thought?
— My pages. They’re all attached to different trees. Have you collected them? — He added, getting a little more closer to you.
Oh, so the notes you were looking for, that now you know they aren’t pages, he was the one who attached them to the trees? Is he crazy or something?
— I lost them. I got lost here and when I ran, they kinda flew away from my pockets. I’m sorry, if you’re gonna kill me, go ahead. — You hung down your head, you were definitely cooked and also getting killed in the woods. How nice!
— Game over then. — He spoke lastly, you looked at him with now, more tears in your eyes. He gave you a smile, his fangs were now shown.
His cold hand went to your chin, making you look up to where his eyes were supposed to be, but you were looking at some faceless man. You got caught in his tentacles, putting you in the air and almost choking you by how tight he was taking you.
— Pl.. please don’t do a-anything.. I swear, I’ll do whatever you w..want! — You tried speaking, but your chest felt so heavy that it was almost impossible to.
— Well, actually I do want something from you, if you don’t wanna get killed. — He spoke, his voice was now kinda deeper than before and it was scarier. You could feel his gaze up and down around your body, as if it was scanning you.
— W-what is it? Please! Tell me! — You replied rapidly, gulping. You were in a situation that defined between you being alive or dead, so you were willing to do anything at this point.
You were feeling already anxious until you felt his could touch in your body, closing hard your eyes, you were psyching yourself up that everything that was happening it was all in your imagination. Tears were staining your face, your cheeks turning red and your makeup all messed up.
His cold tentacles were groping you, touching you everywhere while you were just crying. You couldn’t get out of his grip since he was way too strong and taller than you. He started undressing you, retiring your skirt and leaving your tights on. Was this some kind of kink he had?
— I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, looking like a scaredy cat, crying and without any kind of escape from me. — He said, smiling proudly, giggling. His big hands were taking your head, making you look at him. Somehow, he changed your position, using his tentacles to tie your feet, and also your hands together, that were now resting behind your back.
You felt how something cold was poking your now dampened panties, you were definitely scared but your body wasn’t feeling like that. You closed your eyes harshly, not wanting to see what was about to happen. The cold breeze was now feeling like if death was coming near you, not feeling like something safe.
With no further preparation, he pushed himself inside of you, feeling like your guts and tight cunt were being rearranged by his big member. You couldn’t stop yourself from whining and screaming out loud, you weren’t a virgin sure, but his cock felt like dying.
— Don’t be t-too harsh! P-please! — Trying to speak while he was pounding deeper and deeper inside you was tough and more like a challenge.
He tsked his long tongue in response, not really caring about you and going harder on you. One of his tentacles groping your boobs mercilessly, while the other ones were simply roaming around your body.
Changing your position, now in doggy style, he was going harshly and harder, your body was hurting and your were being treated like nothing but a sex doll. You felt your vision going blurry, your hearing going off and feeling extremely numb. You closed your eyes and that’s where you forgot about everything.
Waking up felt like a nightmare, your whole body felt sore, you were covered in cum and definitely felt how the hot liquid was slipping from your thighs. Trying to look for your glasses or any kind of clothing (since you were naked) looking around. That’s when you saw some random guy, weirdly dressed with a suit and also using some glasses, he was tall and pale.
— Are you okay? Do you need help? — That anonymous guy spoke, looking at you and then your whole body, smirking.
You couldn’t even speak at all, so you just nodded. He helped you get up, he somehow carried things in his pockets such as tissues, that he used on you, trying to get you clean.
Finishing by putting on your clothes, you patted all of your body, as if there were some kind of dirt (there was, everything was all covered in it). You looked again at that weird guy that happened to find you in such condition, what was he doing here?
— I’m Sunghoon, and I definitely can read your mind, I just happened to be here when I found you here all alone, covered in… Whatever that was, no need to thank me. — He finished saying, still smirking and looking at you as if he was scanning your whole body.
As a blink, he disappeared, nowhere to be found. There was some weird vibe coming from that guy that you couldn’t explain, but you felt like you already knew him.
What the fuck just happened to you? You for sure were having some kind of fucking overdose of some fucked up vivid dream, you will never be the same after this.
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sunderwight · 45 minutes
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Thinking about a scenario where (pre-Plot Happening) Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua have a tiff, and Shang Qinghua goes back to his peak and honestly he isn't trying to make MBJ apologize first or anything, he just gets so busy that he doesn't have time to grovel (kind of forgets they had an argument in the first place because it's not like MBJ is going to kill him YET unless he does something really egregious, they're on a schedule), but Mobei Jun is just fuming in his ice palace like "that asshole thinks I can't replace him, I can absolutely replace him, he's sooo replaceable" and etc.
So Mobei Jun tries it. He's going to hire himself another evil advisor. Another groveling rat minion. Maybe a dozen groveling rat minions! He's a demon king, these sorts of people are not hard to find. They can't all be working for his shitstain uncle!
And they aren't, of course. Finding a minion who is loyal to Mobei Jun (well, relatively) rather than any of his rivals actually isn't that hard. Mobei Jun is the most promising demon strength-wise of his generation, he's the direct heir, and he's less absent from court than his father and less treacherous and scheme-y than his uncle. There's a whole crowd he appeals to, who serve him readily and have no motive to turn on him.
But.
Turns out that there is a specific combination of traits which Shang Qinghua brought to the table, and none of his new groveling sycophants have it. The ones who are the best at sucking up also tend to be the worst at having actual skills. The ones who are good at their assigned tasks don't have much of an interest in complimenting his tits or telling him this or that cloak really brings out his eyes. The ones who do tell him those kinds of things also keep turning up in his bed, which is unwelcome and annoying. No one can offer him nebulous sort-of-prophetic insights to the goings-on of his realm either, or if they try to, they turn out to be hacks and charlatans with woefully low accuracy rates. A lot of them just outright lie to try and manipulate him against their rivals or enemies.
Within a week Mobei Jun is frazzled, exhausted, and finally ready to apologize.
He shows up on An Ding Peak and slaps Shang Qinghua across the face. The most self-debasing sign of desire that he can extend. Open palm and everything. He's practically on his knees begging Shang Qinghua for forgiveness (he's not actually, though, after all he's still extremely arrogant demon royalty).
Several years into the future, Shang Qinghua will dimly recollect the incident after actually learning about demon courtship customs (he wrote them, doesn't mean he was actually paying attention to them) and ask what that was about, and Mobei Jun will have a Hollywood style PTSD flashback both to that and to the second time he and SQH had a big fight and SQH left, and not properly answer him.
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bumblingbabooshka · 2 days
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I love Invar!!!!! Her design is wonderful!! I must know more about her!! Were they betrothed as kids? Does she also enjoy anime (or the Vulcan equivalent)? What do Varith’s siblings think of her?? Gah! You’ve done it again!! you’ve made me fall in love with another one of your ocs!! 😩 /pos
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Invar is the granddaughter of a member of the Vulcan high council. Her parents are both politically notable and wealthy.  She was raised being heavily praised and harshly criticized in equal measures - particularly by her mother who always compared her very favorably to others by putting them down. (Ex: "I expect you'll do nothing but the best. You are much more intelligent than those classmates of yours.") However if she failed to live up to expectations she was treated harshly, 'like all the rest'. She became very egotistical, frustrated, and crafty due to this treatment. As a child through to her young teens she was an extremely cruel person - often taking pleasure in bullying and causing misfortune for others. It was to a point where every child in her school knew of her and didn't want to upset or be noticed unfavorably by her. Many students stopped going to school temporarily or altogether after being targeted by her. In her teens Invar suddenly became bedridden with an illness and in her absence her classmates began talking about the bullying which was then discovered by teachers and led to her expulsion from school. Because her family is notable, this incident became news. Varith's family was notified of it and asked if they'd like to continue the engagement or not. To everyone's surprise, Varith said she wanted to continue it. This was not only surprising because of the incident but because Varith & Invar's sole meeting had gone poorly, with the two of them getting into a fight after Invar called Varith 'ugly and sickly'. After confirming they would continue their engagement, Varith sent Invar a letter which merely read 'Well, well, well.' along with several tips for alleviating pain. She originally thought this was some sort of cryptic well-wish but even as the call-back insult she originally figured out it was, it was still kinder than anything else that'd been sent to her. Invar was able to recover from her illness and currently works on a Vulcan science vessel. She has a fairly cushy gig on it because of her family's influence - there are always people willing to do a favor or two. She does NOT have any interest in science - it's just a way for her to not be on the planet. She doesn't know why Varith has continued their engagement and wants to know but doesn't want to ask him. She assumes she'll find out when they are married. Varith and Invar earnestly enjoy one another's company and Invar considers Varith her first true friend. She had plenty of 'friends' while she was bullying people but they all stopped seeing her after she became bedridden. She understands this is because she didn't actually befriend them and they were just sticking to her out of fear or desire for material gain but still. Varith's general dynamic with Invar is that he likes to tease her and she's finding that she enjoys being teased by him. However there's also a tenderness there which others don't often see - most thinking one is taking advantage of the other. (depending on who the person likes more). Invar's currently trying to become a better person or at least lead a normal life. She has a Vulcan therapist she sees and she periodically attempts to contact a person she bullied and apologize. Sometimes it goes fine, sometimes it doesn't. She's not a GREAT person now, she hasn't turned her life around and devoted herself to charity but you know.
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In general the vibe of Varith's family is 'tensely polite' towards her with the exception of Elieth.
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She doesn't like anime. Her favorite things to do when not working are painting ceramics or creating dioramas.
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melodic-haze · 3 days
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haii!! I really like ur arle fic ^_^ could you write smth for sub yelan? can be a thirst :)
☆ — SONG TITLE: Safe and sound
☆ — PAIRING: sub!Yelan x dom!Reader
☆ — TYPE: Hurt with comfort, fluff, NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: MIGHT be ooc bc by GOD do I barely remember things now, gn but she calls you "doll" so there's that, praise kink, body worship, soft sex :3, fingering to cunnilingus pipeline, does it count as semi-public if you have sex in the bedroom interior thing of the pharmacy, silly banter bc I think sex is silly❗️❗️❗️
☆ — NOTES: HIII YAYYY THANK YOU 🫶🫶🫶 I absolutely can anon❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️ I need Yelan in my life so baaaad. Also do they even have actual hospitals in Liyue cuz Bubu Pharmacy's.....a pharmacy 😓 idc pretend they have patient rooms
☆ — WORD COUNT: 3,875 wtf
●❯────────「⊙」────────❮●
You told yourself that you knew what you were getting into, when you began your relationship with Yelan.
She's a busy woman—when your girlfriend technically doesn't exist for the sake of keeping her job as the personal intelligence officer for the Tianquan, you didn't really have a choice but to accept that things would be.. inconvenient for both you and your relationship.
You knew there would be risks. You knew that in order to make this work, the both of you had to reconcile with the fact that neither of you are completely safe from the possible consequences that came from her working in the more definitely-not-legal clandescine side of peacekeeping. One wrong move and she, the hunter, could get hunted.. and you could easily be used as bait.
You both knew that, and neither of you took it lightly. Obviously not; one stupid mistake and whatever cover she had on would be uprooted and someone would get hurt. But it's easy to admit that with how proficient your lover is with her work, the danger seems oh so far away...
Which makes the falling action hit all the more harder, because hope is a painfully fragile thing.
You're a storyteller at the Heyu Tea House, much like Liu Su is. Perhaps you could've worked at Yanshang, considering your very intimate connection with its owner, but such closeness risked turning you into an accessory people could exploit to reach their target. Those who've witnessed you consider you a talent—you had a way of weaving words together at a second's notice, your voice the only element needed to transport the public's focus and imagination to another world.
Yelan had admired that silver-tongued quality of yours.. or, as she had joked about more than once, your delightful skill with your mouth. The joke aside, it was something that you two had in common, except you told tales of the brave and the bold with freedom and joyous passion while she told tales of ever-shifting identities to keep herself hidden as she did her job.
..But no tales of glory could ever reassure you when a messenger brought news of Yelan's state, no tales of security could keep you above the ocean of overwhelming dread.
You had to rush over to Bubu Pharmacy, not caring that you were leaving work and all the tea house's patrons behknd when you had just been told that she was in critical condition. What kind of state is she in? How did it happen?
By the time you get there, you were almost ready to burst into the interior before Herbalist Gui steps in the way, "Wait, wait. Who--"
"Where.." you heaved, having just ran basically from one end of the Harbor to another, "where is she? Yelan? Inside, yes? I have to--"
"Slow down."
"But she's in critical--"
"Assuming you're the one I've been told to wait for, she was in critical condition. She's recovering, at the moment.. though Dr. Baizhu himself was tasked to brief you about it inside."
The feeling of relief was small and momentary but comforting, "Then can I see her? Please?"
He nodded before opening the door himself, "Just don't rush in like you were about to."
With a hum of affirmation, you stepped inside, eyes darting around to find your lover before eventually locking onto a certain bedridden figure in hushed conversation, along with Dr. Baizhu.. and Lady Ningguang.
Sure, it would've done you some good to act relatively composed in the Qixing's presence, but it's not like that was the time for it.
So instead you quickly walk over with urgency, the other two weren't much of a priority to you right now, "Yelan!"
She pauses before turning her head and smiles as she sees you approach, opening her arms to you, "Y/N, sweetheart, there you are..."
You move to quickly embrace her, burying your face in the crook of her neck. Her familiar scent and her comforting warmth overtaking your senses and reassuring you that she is fine and she is NOT dying and--
You feel her wince before trying her best to cover it up, unintentionally prompting you to let go. You look at her with worry once again before you see her try to smile, though it looks more like a grimace to you.
"I'll be fine, you don't need to treat me like I'm made of glass." She then winks at you, as if she wasn't at all injured, "You know I like it rough, doll."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a huff despite the situation, "Your possible death bed isn't really the place to be joking like this..."
She shrugged, "On the contrary, I think this is the perfect time. I'm not dead yet, though."
"You could've been."
"You, indeed, could've been."
Both of you turned to look at the two briefly forgotten figures in the room, said two sporting small smiles befitting of their own nature. The doctor's snake, Changsheng, looks to the side as if disinterested but you see that there's some sort of pleasant glint on her eyes.
Baizhu starts off slow, as if speaking to a spooked deer, probably for your sake, "Unfortunately, Yelan's life was almost taken due to a mix of a poison build-up and bleeding out too much. We've.. had to keep her here in secret for a while in order to keep watch of her state. At least," he let out a light chuckle, "until she managed to stay conscious for longer than five minutes."
"It was a lot of trouble, you know." The albino snake hissed out, "Really had to keep an eye on her 24/7 in case she suddenly curled up and died more than she looked instead of just taking a nap."
"Now, my case wasn't that dire--"
"Barbaric as it is, I'll bite you and fill you with poison again if you say otherwise, human--"
"Before your pet snake threatens my agent's life a week after she almost died, might I suggest we hurry this along? I'm sure Y/N would like to be alone with your patient instead of witnessing this little farce of yours." Despite her words, Ningguang's lips had easily curled into a small smirk, her eyebrows slightly raised and her tone amused.
"Come now, you heard the Tianquan; no need to threaten the patient, Changsheng," Baizhu sighed as he softly nudged her head away with a knuckle. "The sooner we brief her other half over here, the sooner you can go, okay?"
The snake companion offered no other form of acknowledgement beyond a little huff before resting her head on Baizhu's shoulder.
"So..." You start, "You're telling me that she's been here for.. a week."
Ningguang nods.
"And nobody went to tell me."
The Tianquan let out a small sigh before lifting a hand to idly summon a few of her small gem constructs and swirling it around, "After thinking it through, we weren't necessarily left with a choice. She was in dire need of immediate help, everything else came after."
'Necessary' this, 'thinking' that, it was getting a bit infuriating, "If it was so bad then why send her in such a dangerous mission in the first place?!"
"It wasn't supposed to be."
You all turned to look at Yelan, who had been silently watching you on her bed, and you just now notice the slender hand that gently tugged down on your arm.
She then turns to the others with a smile, "I'll take the rest of the explanation. With my service, I think I'm at least owed some time alone with this sweetheart I'm holding onto right now."
Ningguang nods as Baizhu stands up, the both of them moving to leave. However, you hear the doctor call out as he closes the door, smug amusement practically radiating off his voice, "Don't exhaust her too much now!"
The door closes, leaving you two alone, and you couldn't help but cringe at the Doctor's remark as Yelan laughed. That moment only lasted for a few moments, however, before worry and dread came back to make itself known to you.
"I'm still mad, you know."
"I know, doll."
"And worried."
"Mhm."
"If you knew then why wasn't I told that you've been here this whole time?" You ducked your head as your hands sought to hold onto yoour lover's own, "You could've died nearby and I wouldn't have known until it was too late."
Her hands reciprocated your gesture, giving you a light squeeze, "Don't hate me."
"What for?"
"I was the one who told them not to say anything until I was all better."
"..But why?"
"It was something I arranged with Ningguang a while ago about you; if I'm ever in a really bad state, it should be kept secret until I either recover or.. well, you know."
"That's not telling me why."
"I was getting to that, sweetheart," she chuckled as she lifted one of your hands to press a small kiss on the back of it, "it's to protect you. I'm not risking my life to risk yours even more.. and I didn't want you getting worried or getting false hope in case I didn't get through. I wanted to come back to you injury-free."
You took pause, considering her words. You knew she was right, getting all wound up about something that would or wouldn't have come would've been.. stressful. And in doing so, there's a chance that you might be identified and used against her. It might be extreme, but it pays to be careful when your girlfriend's basically a spy.
"You still had me worried, though."
"Haha, yeah, I'm sorry."
"I almost knocked some poor patron's tea onto his lap from rushing out to see you and yet all you do is laugh it off."
Yelan snorted, "Really?"
"Yes? I don't have time to be careful when you could've been dead! What even happened?"
"I took a gamble on the whole thing and it ended up backfiring, that's all."
"..And I'm guessing that's all you'll tell me?"
"Until I get the all-clear, yes. Sorry, love."
"That's fine. It's.. the same old. I just wish you were more careful."
"Mm. I said I'm sorry, didn't I?"
You look up at her to reply but you stop in your tracks as you see the way she's looking at you.
Her eyes, coloured a dazzling aquamarine, looked at you with such love and care. Coupled up with that easy, relaxed smile, it reminds you of why you're willing to put up with.. all this for the love of your life.
Your words are taken from you and you couldn't care less, not when she lets go of your hands and wraps them around your neck.
"I missed you," she says, and you can't help but melt.
"I missed you too. So much."
"Then can I..?"
Your eyes crinkled at the request, easily falling back into the dynamic you have with her, "We're not done talking about this. And you're not meant to be exhausted."
"I almost died, can't a woman get a reward for surviving a bad roll?"
"You could, but that's not how you ask."
Her voice turns airy yet raspy at your reminder, her tone simultaneously taunting and begging, "Please?"
"..Alright, fine then. Come here." And that's all you say before you both lean in, her arms slowly tugging you down on the bed with her as you follow through the movement.
Soon enough, you're on top of her as slow, gentle kisses progressed and increased in intensity, her hands wandering and grasping onto you as if you were her one lifeline, the reason why she lived. And perhaps you are, with the way she cherishes you and lets you do whatever you wish to her, both in body and soul. Your touch, in contrast to her uncoordinated movements, is gentle and unhurried as you make sure to be careful of possibly hurting the woman underneath you.
The both of you make relatively quick work in removing the clothes you have on, with more effort on your part due to your insistence in letting her lean back so that she doesn't accidentally strain herself. You almost regret it when you see the state of her body—the bruises are fading away faster than it probably would've, were it not for Baizhu's help, but the cuts...
"Even with the doctor's healing, they don't look too good, do they?" You hear Yelan muse, her ever so confident tone slightly tinged with a touch of self-consciousness, "You don't need to look at them, doll. I wouldn't--"
"No, they're.. beautiful."
She snorts again, an unsure smirk on her lips and a light pink dusting her cheeks, "Usually I'd agree, but those are recent gashes you're looking at."
"And?" You raised an eyebrow, "They may look a bit.. gnarly but you survived all of this. How can I not think they're beautiful? How can I not think you're beautiful?"
She doesn't say anything back, though you hear her exhale shakily before she pulls you back into another brief kiss. You don't stay there long, however, as you slowly make your way down: gently biting and licking her neck, playing and sucking onto her nipples with great care, kissing every scar and bruise and wound she's received in great reverence to the one you love, caressing every inch of her body...
Underneath you, Yelan squirms in pleasure and anticipation, her breathing deep and her skin flushed as you take your time in worshipping every single inch of her body. Her hips rock up in an effort to grind her clit up on your thigh. She was desperate—of all the places you decided to caress, you've yet to touch the one place she needed you the most after the whole time you've been apart. You knew this, and yet you kept going.
Yelan knew how to handle hard and rough, but she was lost when it came to soft and gentle.
"Please, babe," she practically moaned out, "Aren't you-- ah.. taking longer than... than usual..?"
You pressed a kiss on a closed wound as you grazed a nipple with your thumb, "Am I? I didn't realise you timed me whenever I had you at my mercy."
Her breath hitched at the movement, "No, just.. instinct... How long are you--"
"But I haven't shown how much I love every single inch of you yet."
"I think I'd get the message if y-- ohfuck... if you got to the main event."
You sported a mock pout, your words failing to hide your teasing intent that just wants to have her squirming for you, at least for a little while, "I haven't seen you in a good while, can't you let me savour you?"
You see her gulp, her eyes half-lidded before one of her hands move to comb her hair out of the way, "You have.. you have all of me, no matter what."
..That was enough, especially after finding out that you almost lost her.
Your hand grazed her skin as it travelled down to her core, your fingers lightly swabbing the slit to get a feel of the wetness accumulating in the apex of her thighs. "You're so wet... Maybe I should treat you like a fragile little princess more often, hm?" You couldn't help the remark as you rubbed circles on her clit and gave her what she wanted, especially when she lets out such a delicious whine.
"I need.. inside... Come on, now, sweetheart, I--"
"You were doing so well..." Your minstrations slowed down, earning another whine from who was supposed to be a mature woman, "What's the magic word, hm? We've gone through this."
She doesn't hesitate, "Please put.. put your fingers in me, I've needed you for s-so-- oh my fucking-- mmnf!"
You made quick work in finding someone's discarded panties—yours or hers, you couldn't care less right now—and using it as a makeshift gag to silence your lover when you finally sink your fingers into her wet, hot pussy. "I don't know if you remember since apparently you've been here the entire time, but we're not home right now. So I suggest you try your best to stay quiet."
"That is," you continue with a raised eyebrow, keeping your hand still inside her and practically relishing in her pleading gaze, "you can keep quiet, right? I wouldn't want us to be a disturbance so if you can't, then..."
You make a point to remove your fingers at an agonising pace, its presence leaving just as soon as it came, but her hand reaches out in an effort to keep you inside. You see her shaking her head 'no', though she doesn't let out a sound.
"Good girl," and you plunge your fingers in once again as some sort of makeshift punctuation to your brief praise, to which you could feel her hips buck sharply into your hand in response.
Your lips and your unoccupied hand wandered around her body, as if making sure that she was there with you and actually alive instead of whatever worrying condition she was in. And really, if it weren't for some lucky stroke of luck, she wouldn't even be here in your arms right now.
You knew the risks of being with her but that didn't mean you liked it—the thought of losing your lover was...
"..Mm?"
You looked at her and you see a questioning yet knowingly sympathetic look in her eyes, and that's when you realise that you had unconsciously stopped moving entirely.
She moves her hand, though it isn't to remove the makeshift gag in her mouth. Rather, she moves it to softly brush her knuckles on your cheek, reassuring you of her present existence without words.
..You needed her just as much as she needed you.
With a pleasant hum, you kissed her again before moving your head down and leaving a trail of kisses in your wake. You stop at her glistening core, wet with slick and anticipating your next move from the way it squeezes down on your unmoving digits, before you descend further and give her clit a slow, tentative lick. The effect is immediate—you hear her let out a muffled gasp as her hands dart to the back of your head.
Her reactions have always been a delight to witness because of how it was always such a gamble to you; was she going to try holding it in or was she going to be so expressive that you have to keep her still? Was she going to be a good girl and follow every little thing you say or was she going to be a brat and defy you until you've broken her in? But this time it's delightful in a different way—your entire exchange is so utterly intimate and caring and reassuring for the both of you.
And the effect on her is also delightful too. Putting her hands on your head and alternating between gripping it tight and massaging your scalp as you consumed her entire being, murmuring sweetly broken-apart words of her love for you as she tries to quiet down for you, pulling you closer by wrapping her legs around your head and never letting you go while her body twitches and reacts at your every minstration... For once, she doesn't know what to do, simply laying there as a helpless pile of need and desire that's being wound up tight with care until she possibly can't anymore.
When your fingers curl up into that one specific spot as you sucked on her clit just the right way, you feel her finally snap and let go before you hear it.
It happens in such a mesmerising sequence; her breath hitches once more as her body locks in place for a mere second before she bucks her hips and shakes uncontrollably. Her hands claw on your scalp and her thighs squeeze you tighter, practically closing up any space to breathe and yet you don't care—you happily continue on with your movements and help your lover ride through her much-needed orgasm. Then that's when you hear her garbled screams, the makeshift gag in her mouth definitely not enough to contain the sound, mixed with "I love you"s and scrambled words of gratitude as she rides out her high.
It takes a while, but eventually she settles down. Yelan's grip on you softens up and you are given room to move off her and finally breathe (not as if you were complaining, in the first place). So you extract yourself from her lower body, though not without cleaning her slick up with careful licks as you slowly took your fingers out as to not overstimulate her further. You licked your own fingers clean right after with a little wink at her and you see her roll her eyes with a smile as she takes the panties out her mouth and puts them aside, the expression complimented with a blushing tint on her cheeks.
You kiss all the way back up her body until you reach her lips, and a hand goes up to cup your cheek as you share this tender moment together between you. And when your lips break apart, your body doesn't follow—instead, you lie beside her with both your limbs tangled up together and never letting go. You would have lied down on her but you didn't want to put pressure on her still-recovering body.
Neither of you speak for a little while, satisfied with simply hearing the sounds of each other's breathing. Of her breathing, an indication that she's alive and with you at this present moment. It's so easy to just.. close your eyes and fall into a comfortable slumber with your partner right here with you.
But eventually, Yelan manages to form her words, "I missed that."
You raised an eyebrow, "What, the sex?"
"Well, yes. You're a natural, sweetheart. But no, I meant being with you."
"..Me too."
...
"There is.. one more thing I want to do."
"And what's that?"
And she turns to look at you with that dazzling sea of aquamarine blanketed with a warm, loving gaze, "Rest. With you."
The smile that stretches your lips isn't enough, could never be enough, to express the happy warmth that blossomed within you, "We can do that."
You don't do it immediately; you've had to briefly extract yourself to put your own clothes back on and help Yelan with hers (despite her insistence that she can do it herself) because the least you two can do is look somewhat presentable in case someone comes in. But when you finish up and you come back to bed with her, it doesn't take all that long for peaceful exhaustion to overtake you.
The last thing you see is Yelan's live, blissful expression of happiness, something one wouldn't expect from someone in her line of work and yet there it was.
And it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
(And when you wake, you see her snoring lightly with her lips slightly apart.
And you wouldn't want to trade this—her—for anything.)
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r0semultiverse · 1 day
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Qrow’s Semblance is Fortune! 🐦‍⬛
I talked about this briefly before, having speculated that Clover’s pin carries on his good luck after death or that Qrow has just done a lot of training mentally and/or physically. @benevolentslut had some amazing additions as well & I want to sum up this theory for you as best as I can as we reached similar conclusions even before I had read her reblog.
Qrow has only been in the negative all his life, mentally and emotionally.
This man has had barely any positivity in his life.
"His whole life he's been the epitome of cynicism and pessimism." - @benevolentslut
Qrow grew up under constant stress & threat of those around him.
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Needless to say, but I don't think he could trust anyone he grew up around except maybe Raven.
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Then he has to constantly worry about being found out by the other huntsmen! Also growing up with the threat of huntsmen and Grimm the entire time!
Then Oz drops the whole Salem problem on him & I'm sure that didn't help his mental health in the slightest!
"His sister leaves him and their team, and then summer disappears." - @benevolentslut Yeahhhh he is losing everyone close to him in one way or another! That cannot be a fun experience!
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This look like the face of a guy that's doing okay?
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I'm just going to copy paste this here as I hadn't noticed it & it feels worth noting that the intensity of his misfortune seems to increase with the increasing mental strain.
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While we don't know for sure that all of these things are a byproduct of Qrow's misfortune semblance, it certainly isn't out of the realm of possibility. Notice the worsening of his mental health resulting in potentially more disastrous outcomes. 😰
"we see him blaming himself constantly for everything that goes wrong, and it only causes that to become more true." - @benevolentslut
She lists a lot more examples of where Qrow's semblance has potentially worked this way in the original post. Clover comes along & starts lifting him up, giving him actual hope. He now has a little seed of hope planted in him. 🍀
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Wow, Qrow is doing so good for himself lately! I sure hope nothing-
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Oh... oh no. From his perspective Ruby & Yang could literally be dead. He is stricken with grief as he watches it all unfold & probably sunk back down into a negative spot mentally. He may even blame himself in some way.
When you're this low, there's a saying that goes "nowhere to go but up."
I firmly believe that Qrow would see things that way, especially after reaching his lowest point. He can only do his best to help those around him. Though he's the most alone he's ever been, he's becoming a part of a new community where people help one another. In that sense, it's impossible to be alone. In spite of it all, he slowly finds his mental health improving! Ruby's message to the world is bringing people together! 🌹
"and we see him take up clover's role, both in terms of how he's helping out around shade, and more literally, in the unmissable parallel where he catches the guy who trips." - @benevolentslut
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Ruby & Clover have both filled him with hope & he's more optimistic than he's ever been, which results in bursts good fortune! ✨
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There's also already a premise for shifts in mental health and trauma resulting in semblance evolution.
Cinder betrayed Neo & so she winds up in the Ever After & through her form changes is showing us that she now has negative feelings towards Cinder.
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She's so upset that her semblance starts to make multiple clones of her which it has never been able to do before. Her Overactive Imagination semblance has evolved due to the state of her mental health.
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Her semblance begins to evolve so much to where she can create entire architectural structures and buildings out of it!
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She can even use it to talk through the people she recreates, something she's not physically capable of herself.
While we do have to take into account that the Ever After plays by rules that are a little bit different at times; this absolutely confirms that semblances, much like people, can change & grow! 💪
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My conclusion: Volume 10 & beyond will show Qrow's personal semblance evolution as he finds out that his power is actually Fortune itself & the ability to control it, good and the bad.
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