#fully aware that it's mid march

[korlkorl]

twisted wonderland 3rd years + shoujo au 😵‍💫

trey clover

drum roll please… presenting trey clover!!! the beloved captain of your high school’s baseball team!!! have you seen him? he’s so kind, and thoughtful… he’s really handsome and tall… lord… have you seen him in his baseball uniform?? his broad shoulders under the gentle light… all the girls are giggling about it!

you’ve also often found yourself following the smell of delicious baked goods… only to find the infamous trey clover handing pastries out to his entire team!! he can cook too?! you drool at the thought of tasting his already amazing-smelling food.

unfortunately, you and him are on different social levels. have you seen him? he’s constantly surrounded by people! the thought of even trying his food is out the window… nevertheless talking to him. you’re more quieter, with a solid, but small group of friends.

that doesn’t mean you or your friends aren’t a fan of him! every time there’s a baseball practice going on afterschool, the bleachers are filled with students alike, wanting to watch their favourite caption (+ the other members, ace and deuce are pretty popular too!) it’s often full of people so you haven’t gotten the chance to fully watch a practice game yet… not until a freezing winter afternoon.

there you were, at the front of the bleachers, with the best view you’ve gotten of any game so far! although cold and shivering, it’s fun to sit with you friends and watch them practice! although your eyes often stray to trey, it’s not like you’re not watching the other members of the team! you’ve talked to deuce before, he’s pretty nice! you wave at him sheepishly while rubbing your shoulders, trying to keep yourself warm.

trey clover is really nice as the rumours say. he’s been watching you the entire time, seeing you shivering, with rosy cheeks and a flushed expression, giggling and laughing with your friends. you’re like a lost puppy! something tugged at his heart in worry, you’re obviously cold.

during break, the other girls watched in envy as trey himself comes up to you and offers you his own scarf! wow! you and your friends silently cheer at the offer. trey couldn’t help but smile. how could the oh-so lovely trey clover not? he loves taking care of his classmates! whether they’re friends or not.

he waves it off, saying you can return it to him tomorrow. you smile at him, and clutch onto the scarf in gratefulness. trey is really a great guy! perhaps you have a chance at becoming friends with him…?

the next day, you bravely march towards trey, only to immediately turn back after seeing him surrounded by a bunch of people. uh oh. maybe you’d return the scarf to him another time. there’s too many people and you were afraid that you’ll get overwhelmed from the staring eyes.

the same thing happened the day after. then the day after that. this goes on for a month or so, until you and him get partnered for a project.

trey was confused the entire time. he’s seen you approach him and then promptly walk away. he though it was cute, but he didn’t understand why you couldn’t just give it to him.

you explained how you got nervous, seeing him surrounded by so many people, and finally gave him the scarf back on a quiet afternoon at the library, mid-science project. he chuckled and heartily accepted this. hence you made a new friend!

trey never seemed to be aware that he’s often surrounded by many people at almost all times. now that you (lowkey) knocked him into reality, he often found himself suddenly alone. trey liked his friends, as well as his alone time. but maybe he was too alone at the moment because he slowly seemed to be attaching himself to you. you were so much more comfortable, definitely less overwhelming compared to being surrounded by so much people. he’s starting to enjoy your company now.

you, however, seemed to be confused as to why he’s suddenly following you. it’s trey clover we’re talking about! the school’s prince charming…!!!

when you asked him, he simply said it was a nice change of pace. what does that even mean??? does he perhaps…? no!! there’s no way!!! you shake your head, panic-stricken. stop being delusional!!!

one crisp morning, trey found you with bandages all over your fingers. are you okay??? what happened??? did you get in a fight??? did you study too hard???

you shake your head, flustered. “it’s not a big deal” you say, smiling. “just some accidents in the kitchen. it’s well taken care of.”

trey sighs. maybe he should start helping you in the kitchen… I mean, he considers himself a pretty decent cook… and he hasn’t baked a sweet treat for you yet!

a while later, as trey started getting gifts from all kinds of people did he start connecting the dots. that’s right… today’s valentine’s day! you probably injured yourself trying to making something for the guy you wanted to confess to. he chuckled. you should’ve just asked him and he would’ve helped you no problem! maybe you just felt shy to ask because he was also a guy…

he tried looking for you, wanting to ask about who this special someone is, only to find you to be nowhere. huh. that’s odd. you were at school this morning… right?!

confused, dazed and guilty about rejecting all those girls today, he opened to his shoe locker to find a cute bag with a bow on it fall to the ground.

he only receives outright confession, never quiet, secret ones like this. this is almost like…

his eyes widen and his ears flush red as he reads your confession letter. oh. he thinks. oh dear.

taking a bite out of your heart shaped cookie, he feels a cavity already forming. it’s too sweet! but no matter, he’ll throughly brush his teeth when he gets home… the only thing on his mind walking home is finishing your (kinda failure?) baked goods and wondering how he should tell you he feels the same way… maybe baking you something too?

cater diamond

selfie, after selfie, after selfie… you mindlessly scroll on cater diamond’s magicam. he’s so photogenic it’s insane. the light always seems to hit the right angle, his eyes are gleaming and childlike… he’s smiling… so handsome.

your finger has hovered over the ‘message’ button on his profile many times, but you sigh to yourself. he probably gets hundreds of dms a day. you’re probably just another number to his follower count. also, hitting someone up online? that’s super unromantic.

you’ve seen cater at school a bunch of times. he’s always taking pictures or flirting with some girl who’s ten times more prettier than you. you have no chance at all! the local celebrity has no time for the likes of you!!!

he’s fun, he’s loud, he’s eccentric… he’s so interesting! you would love to get to know this side of him. little did you know…

you were shuffling through books in the school library during lunch. you forgot to do an assignment and had to hurry before your next class… only to find cater diamond, slumped in a corner, asleep!

it just so happens that the book you wanted was right beside him. as you try to slowly pull the book out, he wakes up. oh no.

he stares at you, wide eyed, before dazing out and leaning his head back. you slowly sat beside him and flipped through the pages, eating your lunch and finishing up your assignment. it was well needed peace and quiet for cater.

that night, you opened your phone to find a pleasant surprise.

cater diamond started following you.

you’ve find to notice a pattern. during lunch, cater could always be at the library, slumped and dazed. no one comes here during lunchtime, except for students who could care less about the mini-celebrity cater diamond. you always assumed he went out to buy food with his friends during lunchtime. guess not.

every now and then, you say beside him silently, eating your lunch and scrolling on your phone. sometimes, he’d strike up a conversation about the latest student gossip, or an assignment he didn’t quite fully understand. but most of the time, it was just comfortable silence.

those ‘every now and then’ turned to everyday. you’d rarely hang outside of lunchtime, due to both of you being caught up in your own social lives, but it was nice nonetheless.

“isn’t it weird?” cater asks one day.

you lift your head up from your phone. “weird what?”

“you’ve see. my social media posts. isn’t it weird that I’m so antisocial here? we rarely even talk.”

you shrug. “I don’t mind. I think you’re great either way.”

cater turned his head towards you. “really? you think I’m great?”

“I’d love to know the fun, wild cater, but I also love the quiet, peaceful cater too.”

“you love it?”

“I love it.”

“well… I love you.”

leona kingscholar

you couldn’t understand how you could hate someone so much without knowing them all that well, but you did.

leona kingscholar, the snobby rich kid.

you’ve seen his name when grades are posted. and it’s at the very bottom. he sleeps in class (plus, he sits right next to you! how annoying, he snores.) and is rude to almost everybody.

to your horror, he has fans.

you’ve seen parades of girls chase after him during valentines, love letters pile up in his desk, people asking you to send him love confessions on behalf of them. of course, you’re too kind to say no, and deliver the message anyway, only to be rudely scoffed at when you tell them that leona brushed it off.

you, however, manage to keep an outstanding vibe to yourself. you manage to keep good grades, be nice to everyone, have interesting hobbies and talents… you’re a pretty all-round person (as you say)

because of your good impression and responsibility you’ve shown and given to your teachers did they ask you to do some extra credit stuff. to your pleasure, you agreed. except you dropped your books when you found out that the extra credit thing is tutoring leona kingscholar.

“I’m so glad that you’re able to do this. I’m very worried about dear leona, especially considering his home life. I hope you can take good care of him.”

you smile meekly. of course teacher! what couldn’t you do? the easy going, impressionable student!

your ears did pique interested when your teacher mentioned his home life… but what’s that to you anyway? you lost interest quickly.

the clock was ticking and the workbooks between you and leona was pristine and untouched. the desk that separated you two was the only thing that seemed to prevent you from mauling him on the spot.

his hair looked well-kept and clean. his clothes neat and tidy, his bone structure… you shook your head. well, obviously he is handsome. how else does he have all those girls tailing him despite his hideous personality? you friends were excited to see how this ‘date’ (you rolled your eyes) would go. I mean, it is leona kingscholar after all.

although you call him the snobby rich kid, was is the president’s son. or well, used to be. his father stepped down from presidency and leona’s brother, falena, recently won the election from charisma alone.

when you watched him on tv, you scoffed. the kingscholar handsome genes seemed to be going strong, that’s probably what helped falena earn his spot because he is in no way a good politician. falena’s promises hasn’t been met yet, his main concerns benefited the rich (classic classism— no pun intended) and he laughed heartily at almost anything. It made him look pathetic.

as you eyed leona dozing off, you laughed to yourself. at least he’s not president, you thought.

you flicked his forehead. you watched leona flinch and frown. he had this boyish charm to him that made you wanna laugh at everything he does. you chuckled when he glared at you.

“what?” he hissed. meow.

“what do you want to start off with?” you spun the pencil in between your fingers.

leona rubbed his forehead and shuffled through his books and pulled out a math book. “yeah. this one.”

“how much do you want?” leona asked.

“what?”

“money. for you to do the work for me.”

“I don’t want money. I want honest work.”

“everyone wants money.”

“put your wallet away.”

leona stated at you, dumbstruck, and put his wallet away as you instructed.

“ugh snobby rich kids and their money.” you whispered loud enough for him to hear.

“herbivore.”

what kind of insult is that?!

days went by like this. arguing, no work done, leaving frustrated. you still refused to accept money. that would put weight on your conscience. you simply couldn’t.

one day, you started stuffing your face with your lunch that you didn’t have time to eat during school.

leona eyed your food. “lunch? after school? it’s almost 4pm.”

“augh. I know. I don’t feel like eating that much but that means I have to have this again for lunch tomorrow.”

leona took your lunch box and started picking food out and throwing it into his mouth.

“hey!”

“what? you said you don’t feel like eating.”

you calmed back down and watched him eat. “are you sure you’re okay with eating that? I don’t wanna displease mr. money’s food palatte.”

leona shrugged. “I don’t eat much at home.”

oh?

“why?” you asked

“dad’s busy with our dear president. their politic discussion is so annoying. I don’t feel like eating with them.”

you scoffed. “politics? are you sure? whatever I’m hearing from falena sounds like a bunch of bullcrap and rich-guy charisma.”

you hadn’t had the chance to realize what you had said when leona let out a laugh. “I know, right? sick of shit presidents. my dad won’t even listen to me.”

“‘oh your brother’s older, he knows better’” leona said in a mocking tone. “I dunno why he’s always on the birthing order crap.” leona handed you back your empty lunchbox. “you’re not a bad cook.”

you stared at him. you’ve never seen him talk this much in one go. leona seemed to have noticed it himself and coughed.

the next few days went by, a bit more awkward than usual. it was mostly you and him in silence. the arguing seemed to have died down.

since you couldn’t get him to do any work, you decided to catch up on your own.

to your pleasant surprise, leona was helping you! whenever he saw you were stuck on a math question, or a science formula, or any of the sort, he’d watch and explain it to you. you swore he has the lowest grades in the school. how does he know more than you?

leona shrugged. “I can do things if I put my mind to it.”

you slammed your hand on your desk. smiling in thought. as of late, you and leona started getting along better. his smarts made you grow some sort of respect for him.

“if you at least pass all your exams this term, I’ll do anything you ask.”

leona raised an eyebrow. “what?”

“well, you can do all of this right? all you need is a motivator.” you smiled. “we’ve been bantering back and forth this entire time. don’t you want me to stop calling you spoiled? please agree to to this. I really, really want this credit.”

leona pretended to be in thought before nodding. “yeah whatever.”

inner hooray!

weeks went by. leona seemed to have actually started doing his work, handing in assignments, raising his grade…

until he carefully placed multiple tests in front of you with a bright red 100 on the top of each and every one.

“I told you I could do it if I put my mind to it.”

you patted yourself. “I finally trained the animal.”

he ruffled your hair.

the next day, you were getting ready for another afterschool session with leona when your teacher came up to you.

“leona’s grades has been doing so well. I’m glad you were able to put him on track. I added the extra credit on your record. you deserve a break, you can stop tutoring him now.”

oh… right. all of this had to come to a stop eventually.

you went home earlier that day, and suddenly found yourself with so much more free time.

the next few days went by, with no leona in sight. the distaste you usually had for him seemed to wither away… you kind of considered each other as friends. would it be too mushy to say you missed him?

one warm afternoon, at the end of school, you were heading to grab your shoes and leave when a familiar voice called out your name.

leona.

“oh… hi!” you smiled at him. you really, truly didn’t hate him anymore. all of that seemed to be so far ago.

leona spoke in a gruff. “hey… so….”

you knew leona was handsome, no doubt about it. but was he always this oddly attractive? his eyebrows were dark and moody, his eyes (they’re green! you never noticed) glimmered under the sunshine spilling from the windows. he looked to the side, shuffling awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. leona is a confident man. you never saw him so tensed up before.

“you said… if I pass this term you’ll do you anything you want from me, right?”

oh, right. you kinda wished he forgot about that. guess not. better prepare yourself to be his servant, or something. (for some reason, you didn’t seem to mind)

“yeah… I did say that. so. what do you want?”

“I want you to go out with me.”

rook hunt

is this possible to dislike someone who doesn’t even know you exist?

rook hunt, the king of drama, would be seen whistling tunes from the latest musical he watched, looking over play scripts and performing random acts in the middle of the school hallway. get out! he’s so annoying.

what’s worse is that although he seems to be carefree and going with the flow, he always seems to be topping you at everything. got a 99 on a quiz? would you look at that, rook got a 100. learning a new language? rook speaks french! auditioning for lead role? rook already got the spot!

even hearing his name makes you fume in the ears. rook hunt is overall well-liked, he probably isn’t even aware of your secret competition with him.

finally… finally!!! you look up at the cast of your school’s new upcoming play. you got the lead! and… rook got the second lead…

he’s playing romeo… in romeo and juliet… and you’re… juliet… oh!

you roll your fists. it’s fine. it’s fine. it’s fine. you’ll manage. you worked hard for this. you’ll manage.

first day of practice, rook prances in speaking french. romeo and juliet takes place in italy you idiot!

“bonjour, roi de la jalousie!”

you roll your eyes, showing your displeasure. “hello, rook.”

the first few playthroughs went as perfect as it could be. most of romeo and juliet is just romeo losing his mind over a 14 year old girl, so it wasn’t like you and him had to be intimate. yet.

“okay. in act 2, romeo and juliet kiss at the party. preferably, I’d prefer to re-enact a real kiss. but if you guys are uncomfortable, we could—”

“oh, non! I could not! to make a play so touching and real, it is important that we kiss! but if our dear roi de la jalouise is uncomfortable…”

not wanting to back down against rook you shake your head. “no, no! that’s fine! we can kiss!”

you left that day mortified. you didn’t even have your first kiss yet. what is wrong with you?!

the day came to rehearse the kiss. you chugged your bottle of water and marched on stage.

you said your lines carefully, avoiding eye contact with him. the rival you made up in your delusions, a little rook with devil horns and a tail, was somehow (in reality) much taller, prettier and kind of intimidating to look at now. you felt awfully shy.

as his face leaned against yours, he only looked at you gleefully once you finally made eye contact. both of your lips were close, but he didn’t kiss you. huh?

once it was break time, you sat down at the edge of the stage dumbfounded. everyone else left backstage for pizza, so it was just you in an echoey theatre.

that was until rook came in and sat beside you, holding two paper plates of pizza. he handed one to you.

“you don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to.” rook said, smiling. he was unusually calm.

“n-no! I want to!” you replied too hastily. you truly didn’t seem to hate him at this moment. you only felt flustered.

“I know you are competitive. especially with me. even though your fierceness is truly beautiful, I do not advise you to do something you are not comfortable with.”

oh. you look at him. “you noticed? haha….” suddenly, all that competitive spirit you had felt childish.

“well of course! It’s what drew me to you. it’s especially why I auditioned for romeo, even though i was more interested in mercutio.”

you felt yourself turning red. he auditioned for romeo for you? just for you?

“well… i already told the director I’m okay with the kiss… it’s a little too embarrassing to take it back now.”

“well… perhaps if we practiced together, you’d feel more comfortable, mon amour?”

you laugh. “you keep calling me french names. what does this one mean?

rook gently kissed the space between your eyebrows. “my love.”

(ps: roi de la jalouise means king of jealousy!)

vil schoenheit

vil schoenheit is a celebrity. a big, all-time, internet sensation kind of celebrity.

a model, an actor, an influencer… he’s everything!

he’s gorgeous, lovely, not like those other celebrities who are horrible in real like and kind only on the internet.

you feel blessed to know that someone as famous as him is going to the same school as you.

vil is popular, undeniably so. everywhere you go, you see him greeting people of all kinds, receiving gifts and panicking after making a girl faint from his magnificence alone.

oddly though, he’s often by himself. like he has no friends. you tilt your head in confusion. someone like him must have hundreds of friends, right? maybe he considers the entire student body as his friends! does that mean you’re his friend too?

you pinched your cheeks. there’s no way someone like him would notice you! no matter how generous he is, you understood it’s difficult to get alone with everyone.

on one fateful morning, you ran into your classroom to grab your forgotten gym clothes when you pause right before opening the door, hearing frustrated mumbling.

“these stupid fans and their stupid demands”

you peered in through the door window and saw vil schoenheit retouching his makeup, frowning.

there was an awful churn in your stomach. for some reason, you felt like you shouldn’t enter the classroom. but between making it to phys ed in time and have a good first impression on a big-time celebrity, you chose to enter the classroom. it’s not a big deal anyway, it’s not like you and him even talk all that much.

you opened the door to see vil turn his head, almost like an owl as you quickly crab walked to your desk and grabbed your clothes before running off.

like expected, you didn’t see vil at all after that event. although he didn’t seem as lovely as you expected, it didn’t really turn your view of him upside down either. you’re weren’t a big fan of him anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal at all.

until one day, he cornered you.

“did you tell anyone?”

“tell what?”

“what you saw.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “it was one slip up. it’s not a big deal.”

vil glared at you. obviously, you didn’t understand the severity of the situation. if he, vil, a high-end celebrity, screwed even the slightest, it would massively deter his career.

“okay, fine. but I don’t want you to tell anyone about this going forward. if you want an autograph or something, I’ll do it but—”

you shook your hands. “It’s fine. you don’t have to.”

vil raised his eyebrow. you don’t want anything from him? you’re not blackmailing him? everyone always wants something out of him. but he shouldn’t push things further.

he sighed. “alright. but give me your contact information. I’d rather keep track of you instead of worrying.”

your eyes glistened at the bright new vil schoenheit in your contacts.

it was just like that. you had an untouched number on your phone. having someone so famous like him giving his number seemed enough. since there was no other reason for you guys to talk, you guys barely interacted after that (although you’ve felt like a pair of eyes was watching you more often than not)

you didn't expect to run into vil again, so it was a surprise to see vil working in an empty classroom afterschool.

"stupid sports festival..." vil mumbled to himself before his eyes locked with yours.

his eyes were an enchanting colour. something tugged at your heart when you saw a close glimpse of his eyes. lavender. sharp, pristine eyes, long lashes... vil had a sort of maturity to him.

feeling yourself turning red, you blinked a few times before greeting him.

apparently, the ever-so-kindhearted vil has volunteered to work on the upcoming sports festival's banner. no one else wanted to spend their free time doing it, and vil freely told you that he felt pressured about his image because he wasn't saying anything. reluctantly he offered and now here he was.

your tilted your head. vil was just simply expressing what he truly felt about something to you. what happened to the hesitant, suspicious vil that you met all those months ago? does he trust you or something? but you guys barely even talk properly!

unfortunately for vil, you had offered to work on the banner weeks ago. however, only a few of the sports festival committee knew. the rest did not, including vil. (you weren't even aware vil was apart of it)

"well an extra hand couldn't be bad!" you say happily, clasping your hands. "would you consider your a creative person?"

a few weeks went by, planning, discussing ideas and purchasing materials. (you mostly go alone because you had to learn the hard way that vil gets recognized quite easily, even with a tight disguise)

soon, you and vil slowly started going home together. vil lives close by, saying it's better than riding some fancy car and attracting even more attention. your school's neighbourhood was quite rich so when you first passed his house, your jaw dropped. wow! it's so big!

eventually, the banner making, the sports festival planning and discussing came to an end. your impression of vil made you assume that both you and him would be going on your own paths.

"where are you going?" vil said, as you were already walking out the door.

"...home?"

"I thought we went together?"

maybe you were wrong!

everyone used to whisper about vil schoenheit. the kindhearted, friendly student at school. the mega-huge celebrity, the popular boy who always kept a distance with others.

now, everyone whispers about vil schoenheit, the kindhearted, friendly student at school. the mega-huge celebrity, the popular boy and his best friend, you. attached at the hip. are they dating?

you're surprised at vil's ability to keep you hidden from paparazzi. he was worried that rumours would rise, especially since he started inviting you over to his place. everytime pictures of him would surface the internet, you were never mentioned... luckily.

you sat down in front of him, eyes closed. vil has been getting loads of skincare PR as of late, and he's been trying the products on you, worried it would break him out. he had a shoot coming up soon.

"I haven't read my script yet and I have to leave the city in a week. could you believe the amount of procrastination I've been doing?" vil scoffs at himself.

"you didn't tell me you're leaving."

"don't worry. it's for only two weeks. I'd be back in a blink of an eye."

you huffed. "I'm gonna miss you, vil."

vil's ears flushed. but your eyes were shut closed.

"I'm gonna miss you too, I guess."

vil was wrong. after he left, time seemed to have gone slower. you were so used to spending so much of your time with him, you felt like you forgot how to hang out with other people.

you bought sweet treats with your friends, went to photobooths and stressed out about assignments and tests, but vil was at the back of your mind at all time.

"I'm coming to the airport tomorrow." vil said over the phone.

"I'll come and see you!"

"don't. too many people are gonna be there."

vil smiled at the other end of the call. he knew you'd do it anyway.

...and he was right! there you were, waiting in a crowd of a bunch of people. you were worried that he wouldn't see you.

it was fine. you knew how worked up he got about his personal and work life mixing. maybe it wasn't a good idea to see your best friend in a field of paparazzi.

well, it was too late. cameras started flashing and people started screaming a familiar name.

you tried to squeeze to the front of the crowd as best as you could, but to a point you had to stop and depend on your toes and only hope he could see you.

as a blonde boy with a mask on entered the scene, you saw him turn his head around, looking for something, until his eyes met yours.

you've always thought those eyes had a mature, elegant feel. but for some reason, this time, his eyes felt full and boyish, emotional.

you popped out from the back to see that vil has already found you, giving you a tight hug.

"vil! vil! there's paparazzi here!'

your face was squished against his chest, but you could still see and feel the pictures flashing.

"aren't you worried about, you know, those rumours surfacing?"

vil shook his head, smiling. "no, not really. not when I want them to be true."

idia shroud

you: HIII can u plz carry me in val im dying uwu

gloomurai: alright what the flip.

you: be my pocket sage kitten

gloomurai: ok fine wait for me

you stare at the chatroom between you and your online friend, gloomurai. you've been talking to the guy for a while now, and he seems to be overpowered in every game, carrying you in all your favourites nonstop. does this guy even have a life? you laugh, as you stretch your back.

it was winter break, and your house's heater was broken. while it was getting fixed, you've been spending your days in your favourite gaming cafe, in the warm heat of the pc and the warm computer screen.

you: bro im in this gaming cafe and this guy beside me wont stop mumbling i think im going insane

gloomurai: lmao im in a gaming cafe too

you: what??? rlly?? omg which one r u at

gloomurai: ignihyde cafe lols

you: WTF ME TOO???

gloomurai: HUH

you: WHICH SECTION R U IN

gloomurai: im in section 3A

you: OH MY GOD

gloomurai: what??

you: IM IN 4A

you slowly turn you head to the guy who was mumbling beside you the entire time, him doing the same. you peeked your eyes to his computer screen to have your chatroom open.

is that... your classmate... idia shroud????

you've heard about the guy. he's shy, gloomy (no pun intended) and quite repulsive to approach. of course, you've heard a number of girls talking about how hot and tall he is, how much they loveeeee loser boys.

but his attractiveness was not what caught your attention. your online friend for over a year was your CLASSMATE??? a guy you barely even talked to??? hello?? is anybody hearing this???

you suddenly felt silly for calling him your pocket sage.

that night, your phone was open to his chatroom. idia immediately stood up and left the moment you guys met eyes, so you didn't get a chance to talk to him properly.

he clearly had the green online status on his profile, but he wasn't messaging you at all like he usually was. I mean, he's someone you apparently know in real life, so there's no harm in striking up a conversation, right?

you: soooooo

you: who knew that we knew each other irl? lol

you: i mean we dont rlly talk in school so um this is kinda awkward lmfao

you: we can stop being friends online if u want

you: but i won't have anyone to carry me in league :(

you sat the tiny seen beside your message. for the next five minutes, you say idia typing and then not typing. like he was going back and forth. you just waited patiently.

gloomurai: no i still wanna be friends w u

you: u sure? i mean u kinda js dipped lolsies

gloomurai: yeah i know n im sorry i kinda panicked omfg

gloomurai: i never thought you'd be into videos and stuff thats kinda cool

you: huh?? you didn't think that?? have you not seen my anime keychains and video game characters on my phone wallpaper??

gloomurai: no i did but i thought u didnt know what they were....

you laughed, and spent the rest of the night texting him.

your heater was fixed at that point, and had no reason to go back to the gaming cafe (your mom reprimanded you for spending your entire break playing video games) so you didn't see idia until the start of the new semester.

he was still always that shy kid you knew at school, so you approached him first.

"hey idia!"

he looked up from the video game on his phone, eyes widening at the sight of you.

"u-uhm... hi."

"so! how was your winter break?"

you sat beside him, making yourself comfortable. idia tensed up but he seemed okay with it.

"I mostly played video games... like usual."

"haha, I've always thought how weird it was that you were overpowered in so many games! I mean, I've been playing just league for a solid while now and you're just so much stronger than me! in other games too! how do you put so much time into videos games?"

you've seen idia's name often at the top of exam grades when they were posted, you thought all he did was study. now your impression of him changed.

as time went on, idia seemed to have calmed down around you. he wasn't as shy anymore and started talking to you normally like how he'd be online.

when you and him were just internet friends, he refused to voice call. now, he would call and play games with you after school.

he started tailing you everywhere at school, so you even introduced him to your friends and told the funny story of how you and him first met on a game. idia seemed to get along with them as well (you've managed to garner a small group of game nerds, idia fit in smoothly)

idia was indeed tall, despite his posture (imagine how tall he would be if his back was straight) and had bright blue hair, like fire. he often reminded you of a dating game love interest, the loser, gamer boyfriends in video games. when you told him, his cheeks flushed so red that you swore even the colour of his hair changed too.

he was also handsome too, you concluded. you already knew this, but having a closer look at your face really did make you confirm it. the family genetics seemed to be going strong because when you came over to his place one time, you met his younger brother ortho, and was just as cute and pretty and handsome! (you kinda wanted to adopt him what the freak!)

for his birthday, you gifted him a pair of cute kitty hair pins. you knew he liked cats, and you also thought his hair covered his pretty face too much. you thought maybe it was too cutesy for someone like him, but surprisingly, he wore it no problem! whenever you two sunk into the couch to play games, idia would pin his bangs back to focus. hair strands fell to the front of his forehead and you often wanted to push them back and kiss it... WHAT! what are you thinking!!! he doesn't like you that way, wake up and stop being delusional!!!

your feelings for him seemed to be so one sided. he's talk comfortably and casually with you, like a best friend. someone he totally wouldn't have a crush on. you've been trying to get over it (they're only brief feelings, you swear!) but everytime your skin even slightly grazes over his you started to sweat.

maybe you should just confess.

one hot summer night, you're seated beside idia on the floor, shooting down a bunch of zombies. this has been both of your guy's 17th try.

finally... yay!!! you guys managed to complete the round and you cheer in celebration.

"oh my god!! finally!!! idia you are so awesome!"

"I know." he smirks. "what would you do without me?"

you have no idea. you think.

maybe it was the heatwaves. maybe it was the whirring fan only hitting one spot on your back, not cooling you at all. maybe it was because of chewed up popsicle stick sitting in your mouth. but you felt brave.

"I like you." you say.

Idia's smile falls. he turns to look at you.

"I mean- uhm- I- uhm-" oh god. you wanted to hide in a hole right now.

the game's loading screen was playing funky music. you were sweating, from the heat or the confession? who knows.

"what would I do without you? nothing, idia. nothing. I think about you all the time. even slightly grazing shoulders make me panic. I really, truly do like you."

before he can even reply, you continue.

"and.. you treat me like a brother! your best friend! yes, we are friends, but can you treat a person like me with some interest?? I've liked you for months, idia. how did you not get a single hint?!"

you breathe in. and breathe out.

"so. I want you to make a decision. right here, right now. do you like me back? or have I been pining over nothing?"

you stare at him. his eyes are wide, confused, like a cat. you found it so, so cute. you wanted to kiss those eyes, his cheeks so red and flushed from the summer heat, you wanted to kiss his forhead, his jaw, his lips.

your faces were close. you often forget how close in proximity idia likes to be around you.

idia seemed to struggle to make eye contact with you. he looked to the side, then the other side, and then looked down.

"I'm not the only stupid one here, you know."

huh? you blink.

"I also...thought...this was...one sided..." idia's voice egst smaller and smaller. you have to frown to hear him.

"did you not realize why I stay so close behind you? because...uhm..." idia hesitates. "because... I like... you... too. but you were so free... and awesome and cool like that or whatever... and I thought there would be no way you'd look in my.... direction like that."

your heart thumps. the game's music seemed to blur out. the fan was whirring quietly, the grasshoppers buzz outside the open window.

you heard idia's breathing, you saw his eyes spilling the colour of amber. you licked your lips.

the light of the game screen was blocked from your sight as you closed your eyes and felt idia's warmth near your face.

lilia vanrouge

cooking was something that was special in your heart. it was safe to say that you were utterly disappointed that no one was interested in your cooking club.

the only members were you and your senior, lilia vanrouge.

soon, however, you came to realize why no one wanted to join your club. lilia's cooking was a hideous!

apparently, he was infamous for bringing in the nastiest stench of a lunch to school. for some reason, you were the only person who didn't know! after finding out that lilia joined the cooking club, no one else wanted to join.

you sighed. you needed at least 4 members to be officially registered as a school club.

with lilia's help, both you and him went around promoting and encouraging your club, as well as spending your days cooking.

most of the time, it was just you trying to prevent lilia from doing something ridiculous. there should have been no reason for you to try to convince lilia to not put three pounds of sugar in stew.

salty food tastes sweet, sweet food tastes salty, food in general started to taste gross...

you were exhausted. but for some reason, having the time of your life!

lilia vanrouge was a year older than you, so there was no reason for you to really talk to him. but every time you saw him in the hallways, you always thought he looked so cool with his dark hair striped with vibrant pink and his cute and mischievous vibe! you were glad to be able to finally get to know him, even though he is graduating this year.

you were close to giving up. you were almost at the month mark and no one wanted to join. lilia patted your pack gently as you sniffed.

"it's okay... the school year is ending soon anyway. you can always try next year! obviously I won't be here to help you, but you could still give it a shot."

you smiled at him. of course it was gonna work next year, by that time, lilia would've long gone off and people would actually be interested. it be your senior year next year last well, so you knew you'll have to give it another shot.

so when the end of the month approach, you heartily accepted your denied club application. it was fine! you'll try next year!

it wasn't like home ec. didn't exist. there, you'd cook and have fun.

you kind of missed lilia and hanging out with him, so you started approaching him with new dishes you've made.

"oh! how lovely! it seems that your skills have approved ever since I helped you with cooking! my, my, I must be a chef master of sorts..."

you were nailed in the heart because of the ego hit, but you laughed nonetheless. you thought lilia was silly, fun and interesting. hanging out with him was never boring, and if there was an excuse to hang out with him again, you totally took it.

once you started bringing your dishes, lilia started bringing his own to you. it's like he wanted you dead. they tasted awful. but one bite after another, you smiled meekly as you forced yourself to eat. "it's delicious!" you'd say enthusiastically, as if you didn't just risk burning your stomach out.

lilia would smile, pleased. "wonderful, wonderful!" he'd always say, clasping his hands together.

you would always make extra food when you cooked. lilia was always in your mind when in the kitchen.

so when the last day of school slowly approached, you baked a bunch of cookies to give out to some of your senior friends, lilia included (don't tell anyone-- but lilia's bag had the most and best batch of cookies)

you sheepishly gave it to lilia on the last day. your dear lilia-senpai was graduating, someone who brought a little excitement to your life.

"thank you so much for taking care of me this year. I hope you have a good life outside of highschool!"

when lilia saw your gift, he started to laugh. "what a coincidence! I made some for you too."

he took out a bag of chocolates, storebought.

"I know you don't like my food all that much, so I decided I'd buy food instead. thanks for dealing with my cooking all year, haha."

you took a bite out of your chocolate. it melted in your mouth and the sweetness exploded. you hoped your cookies would taste just as good.

suddenly, lilia stretched out his hand and gently placed his thumb on the corner of your lips.

"you got something there" he said, as he wiped a chocolate mark. without breaking eye contact, he licked it off his own thumb.

"have a great summer."

malleus draconia

unrequited love is so embarrassing. especially if that other person doesn't even know you.

you've been head over heels for malleus draconis for 3 months. all you think about is him. all you want to see is him. but he doesn't even know you.

it was one fateful day, when he picked up your dropped pencil case for you, when you saw his soft smile and emerald eyes. his porcelain skin and his long, elegant nails. you decided from that day on, you were madly in love with him.

so, you've done what any normal person would do and deep dived everything you could find about him

malleus draconia, 3rd year, son of a successful entrepreneur, under draconia co. he likes reading, gargoyles and ice cream, he's good at instruments like the cello and violin... he's been seen exploring ruins... you're not a creep! you swear!

you have this vision in your head where malleus is a prince charming who saves you from the evil villain who wants to sell you for money.

one day, when you were going to school on a crisp morning, someone sat beside you, waiting for the bus.

the guy was unusually tall, so you turned to see malleus draconia standing before you.

"oh hello! I remember you, are you heading to school as well?"

panicked, flustered and nervous, you frantically nodded.

"I've decided I wanted to take the bus today, but I'm sure how I want to approach it. could you help me? ^_^"

"uhm.. o-okay!"

nearly shaking, you sat beside malleus on the way to school.

why was he even taking the bus anyway? wasn't he like, filthy rich?

you friends congratulated you on finally talking to the guy you like when you arrived. you laughed and said that's probably the only time you'll ever talk to him.

however, the next day, malleus was beside you once again.

"good morning!"

you only mustered to say a hello.

"I really enjoyed the bus ride yesterday. Do you also take the bus. to go home?"

you nodded.

"well, I was wondering if you and I could go home on the bus after school? I have some to understand you have to go to a different station to go back? I tried to find it yesterday, but it was just too difficult."

you nodded, again. you could not seem to talk, nervous.

that day, your friends pushed up towards him and left you alone, saying you finally have a shot of getting to know him.

this became a pattern.

every morning you'd take the bus with him to school. once it ended, you and malleus took the bus home together. you weren't sure exactly where he lived, but it was enough to know that he probably lived close by. probably the wealthy neighbourhood you've passed by multiple times.

in your mind, malleus. is perfect, elegant and charming.

in reality, malleus is a sheltered, clumsy and curious boy who really liked taking the bus to and from school.

you started to relax near him too. obviously, you're still nervous and shy, but knowing that malleus isn't a higher being like you made up in your mind, and just a rich kid who has hobbies and interests like any other, you felt a little calmer each day.

"have you done anything other than take the bus?" you asked.

"no, except going on business class on flights."

you laughed. "I was thinking..." you breathed in. "sotheresthisbakerythatopenedandIwaswonderingifyouwantedtogo" you spit out in one breathe.

malleus, like the impressive guy he is, caught everything you said. "well of course! I've been to many in europe, but I've never tasted any pastries here. I usually get them shipped. I'm quite curious!"

entering the bakery, malleus' eyes glimmered like a child.

he said that his family usually chose what he ate, so he really never got a choice. you saw him struggle to pick what he wanted and you offered some suggestions and even paid for it (malleus accidentally gave two hundred dollars for a two dollar bread, he has no concept of money)

seeing malleus act like this, your feelings for him shattered. no, not entirely. just the feelings you had for the cool, distinguished malleus you had in your head. the side of malleus he only showed to the public. instead, you fell in love with the boyish, cute and confused malleus you were seeing now. the side of malleus that he deemed you were worthy enough to see.

this year, it hadn't rained much. so you knew that if it rains, it's gonna pour, hard.

so, after school, you and malleus stood, umbrella-less in a rainstorm. buses were cancelled due to trees fallings.

"well, I could call my driver. if you tell me your address, I can definitely drop you..." malleus stopping talking as he saw you run into the rain. you didn't hear him.

"come on! I know a shortcut! if we run fast enough, we can make it back."

malleus has never met someone so free like you before.

running towards you, you grabbed his hand and pulled him forward through an unknown side of the road.

although the rainstorm was cold and wet, it felt cozy and warm now that his hand was holding onto you. malleus truly thought you were a breath of fresh air.

you started to laugh at yourself. how ridiculous. malleus, a higher class, local rich kid, was following you, someone from a lower class than him, someone not worthy of him. halfway there you realize he could've just call his driver to pick him up. you felt so silly.

"I'm sorry to drag you into the mess" you yelled amongst the splashes of the rain hitting the ground.

when malleus saw you smile and laughing as you apologized for something so silly, he suddenly could imagine an entire future with you and him together.

a.n; hai guys my phone lagged so hard becuz of this what the freak. this is also a rewrite from a very old twst fic i wrote in like 2022. if some people recognize the plots no u dont what whatttt lol!! also im sorry lilia and malleus' stories are pretty sort <//3 i started getting tired because this is so long what the flip u guys... also I might do first and 2nd years too maybe someday idk... my hands are exhausted ok bye

#disney twst #twst wonderland #twst fanart #twst #twst x reader #twst malleus #twst lilia #twst trey #twst leona #twst cater #twst rook #twst vil #twst idia #trey clover #trey clover x reader #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader

[forever--darling]

the princess of bakura

summary: you are faced with reality finally catching up with you as you are at risk of falling with your planet amidst the clone wars, yet your father the king of bakura refuses to let you stay within the burning city, thus contacting his old-time friend and jedi he was in training with to come and take you from the city.

pairings: anakin skywalker x princess!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings/notes: mention of war, of death, mention of clone of wars, the start and beginning or rather where it all ended for the princess of bakura but not for y/n.

series masterlist | 00

The fires appeared, reflected from the great towers in waves of orange and red. The very sound of buildings collapsing into fines of dust and ash was the only attention-holder you had from the high floors of the capital. Locked away within a side room, the gold dress pooled in heaps at your feet, as the handmaiden undid the clasps from the tops of your shoulders. The raging sounds of gunfire no longer had the ability to make you react in the form of a jump or to shiver out of fear — it was too normal, too accustomed to this life that had become Bakura. As if there could be any room for it — for the fear, that surely the evil would succumb to and never let go of. 

“Princess we must hurry,” your handmaiden Sora cried, tears welling up within her innocent green pupils. She wasn’t much older than you, in fact maybe no more than a year or two, and yet her life was sealed, sure to never escape the ruin that would become. 

“Why? They’re coming. I’m sure my escape won’t be deemed successful,” you could barely recognize your own voice, so void of hope, of a greater good but rather defeat.  

“We must not say things such as that.” 

“And why not?” you asked, turning to find a pair of tight black pants hanging in her arms, sure to not get caught on anything as if your father was expecting you to run, “It’s not as if they aren’t true.” 

She gave you the piece of garment, and you took it, aware almost as if you could sense that there was something she wasn’t telling you. Rather, was withholding as the intruders marched to the gates of the capital, their sabers and guns fully loaded. Hesitantly, you pulled the garment on just as she offered a long black tunic that was tight around the chest and shoulders, with short sleeves and bracings where the belts would go. She bit down on her lip, and you knew it then. There was something she wasn’t telling you.

“What is it?” 

“It is nothing to be concerned with. We just must hurry, to ensure your safety.” 

“My safety?” You repeated brows furrowed as her innocent face refused to meet yours. “Tell me what it is you know. I ask of it. No, I demand of it. Sora, this is perhaps our last moment in the same room together so please.”

She tried to offer a smile, one of encouragement, as the tunic slipped over your frame and tightened at the back, just like the rest of the corsets you had been wearing since you were no older than thirteen. But it was only sad, her face painted in dried tears as the corners of her lips barely managed to lift.

“The Jedis have come.” 

Hurriedly, the belts were wrapped around your mid-drift and tightened as you waited impatiently, with the sounds of soldiers’ large boots echoing off the floors outside of your room like a steed of chariots. “Go on.” 

“The king will ensure your survival, princess. One of the greatest and his padawan has been sent to ensure your departure will be successful.” 

“Departure? He wishes for me to leave?” you asked, almost in disbelief as her hands dropped from your back. 

The war only got louder, the walls seeming to shake as the fires only grew outside, catching your gaze once again. The screams were inescapable as Bakura burned to the ground. 

“He wishes for you to survive,” she said, tone firm. 

Your fists loosened, falling to your sides in the devastation that you were expected to flee to survive while the rest of your people burned and were killed… their existence sure to mean nothing by the end of the war. The Clone Wars had claimed far too many planets and innocence at that point. An anger, a sense of guilt squelched at your possibility of living while your father, the king, went down with his people, his empire. 

You didn’t wish to be a coward. You didn’t wish to flee, even if with it was the promise of survival. 

It was not fair, yet exactly how the ex-Jedi would deem to have it. 

They had too much hope for their own good, you thought with a permanent furrow in your brow, tucking the long strands of hair back behind your ears and out of the way. Lips pulled into a fine line, you felt the energy and the particles align as if the force itself was speaking to you, to the Jedi blood coarsing within your pulse. 

A Jedi must not have any attachments. 

A Jedi must put others needs before his own. 

A Jedi must not partake in anger, in fear, or aggression. 

You bowed your head then, a series of guilt appearing at the mere thought of the Jedi code that still no doubt laced upon the king of Bakura’s back. 

In that moment, you hated him for that. 

With anger suddenly reverberating within your veins and a huff along your parted lips, you took the long black cloak from Sora and wrapped it around your shoulders, slipping your arms in each sleeve. Taking the hood within your nimble fingers, you pulled it up and onto your head, concealing what you could in case the halls had been invaded already. 

Turning, you shared one last longing glance with the handmaiden, one who had devoted her young life to being a caretaker as well as your source of company. You nodded solemnly, “I thank you for your service to the royal family.”

At that point far aware of the glassiness in her eyes and the loss that had already been stained upon history, you felt the chokeful dread that had a hold of you at that moment. With so much uncertainty, you turned away, fingers grasping the cloak tightly, and left the room. Chambers that once had been yours, but now never would be again.

The brick-tiled floors of the capital’s hallways were flooded with soldiers of Bakura, the most trusted, all dressed in armor, grey and blue helmets concealing their faces, their identities. A simple nod was sent their way as you turned down the spiraling hallway, feeling as if doom was upon you, a slow march to death though you had been told otherwise. The building shook, the walls quaking with despair as you followed the army up and into the main corridors of the capital, separate from the royal family’s chambers. The brick turned to grey stone, white towering walls made of metal, and the windows were all concealed behind large doors of steal. 

You came upon the war room, the place of perpetual decisions, the place you knew he would be the most protected in the capital’s final moments. Pulse quickening, eyes dazed, you felt it again — the frustration, the immense anger — a type you didn’t realize you could ever feel. With narrowed eyes, your hands released around the cloak and up into the air. Waving in the direction of the doors, the doors flung open, slamming loudly. It was almost as if the force was apologetic, leaning into your feelings. 

Sure enough, as you stepped through the threshold, the king stood near the table, a shield of dark grey armor covering every part of him but his face. A face wrinkled in nothing but despair. Silence overcame the bustle of protectors, and suddenly, you found the eyes of the man at his side. 

There he was as if like a savior. 

The Jedi — one of the greatest, and the very man who happened to be your father’s closest confidant. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

A savior with long hair and pale eyes, dressed in tan tunics of his own, his saber held securely at his waist. 

You hadn’t seen the man since you were a mere child, a man who could’ve very well been an uncle to you and a protector at the headway of your mother’s death only a few years before, and yet he stood there a bewildered look on his face as if he had felt it. Felt your anger from a few rooms away. 

The king faced you, a look of grief evident, and regret as he noticed the betrayal upon yours. He didn’t look away from you as he leaned over and spoke to Obi-Wan. “My dear friend, I ask of you to take my daughter. You haven’t much time as the rebels have just managed to break through the front gates. Time can only be in our favor for so long.” 

As Kenobi moved near you, his palm outstretched, you stood your ground, “No!”

“My sweet daughter—”

You shook your head, that tightened expression refusing to let up, “I will not just abandon my people, abandon you, my king.”

It was as if the look he gave you then was one of disappointment rather than pride. As if he had wished to raise you to be a coward. Jedis, don’t run, you thought. Queens don’t leave.  “Father, please.” 

“Y/N—” 

You interrupted again, “I cannot leave you to die.” 

His face fell, the great and powerful king deflating just at the single look on your face — from his greatest love. Sadness swirled within his irises, and though it could have very well been the very last time you would ever look your father in the face, you couldn’t move. You couldn’t grasp his hand or pull him in for one last embrace. You were far too stubborn. Far too angry, then. 

He stepped closer, but you only took a step back because this was a fight you wouldn’t be able to win as time was wading by each moment; it wasn’t something that was in your favor then. He sighed, “I can’t fail you too, my child. I failed your mother, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I lost you too.” 

Your mouth parted, a single tear falling from your cold steel eyes, just as a burst of static filled your ears. The com-system interlocked upon Kenobi’s waist began to illuminate, and loudly, drowning out everything else as a voice propelled through. 

“Master! They are invading. I repeat they are beginning to storm the capital. I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to hold them off.” 

His padawan. 

Obi-Wan, held the side button of the com and lifted it to his face, unable to look away from the sad parting between father and daughter, “Hold your ground, my strong padawan. We’ll be to you in just a few short minutes.” 

As he clipped the com back into place he cleared his throat, “We must go. Time is falling away from our side. Princess…” 

“Father, don’t do this.” It was your final plea.

There was nothing left to say. 

His eyes tore away from yours, and you felt a small part of yourself break then and wither away beneath the confines of your walls. The emotion was gone from his face, weakness shoved away where you could no longer see it. He waved off some of the nearby soldiers to get into position — to be able to escort you and Obi safely to the main entrance. 

A small whimper fell from your parted lips as he looked then at Obi. “You must go now!” 

Obi nodded but hesitated, feet stopping after a few short steps. He turned, peering over his shoulder to share one last final look with the former Jedi. 

“I commend you, my dear friend,” your father wished farewell, his hand lifting up near his face and down as if in a form of respect, “May the force be with you.” 

“And you, my king,” he returned, before approaching you with fast steps, his hand taking a hold of your forearm firmly. 

“No, no, please,” you cried out, trying to fight Obi-Wan as he began to pull you from the room. You tried as the fleeting image of your father across the room is all you would have in departing, his glare somehow hard and cold, “Father!” 

The doors slammed shut in your face, echoing like a final coo of death. You collapsed in the Jedi’s arms, all exertion and passion gone from the confines of your chest. Nothing would remain. 

Peering up, slumped against his figure, the halls were bathed in darkness. The electricity had been cut, yet the alarms remained, loudly echoing, screaming in agony while the light the dark red reflected across your skin — somehow matching the anger and rage that pulsed within your body. A sense of resentment for the king, for this Jedi who pulled you through the halls, leading you away from your death, from your planet, from your former life. 

Bakura was destined to burn that night, to fall, to whither into ashes, and yet its future queen would not. All that remained was anger, frustration, and resentment.

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #Star Wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #anakin series #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #divider by cafekitsune #banner by cafekitsune

[josefavomjaaga]

Hello, dear Josefa ✨

I hope you are doing well!

While Flower and myself were talking about our favourite couples of the napoleonic era, our conversation found its way to the Soults which we would love to group with couples like the Davouts or the Mortiers but can't because of the cheating on our monsieur le maréchal Soult's part.

With that in mind, we wondered: Do we know how madame Soult reacted to the cheating? How did her behaviour change through the first days, weeks, months after finding out? Did it even change?

We are aware that we don't know any details of the actual conversation where the couple discussed this matter but we still wanted to ask!

Thank you for your time and effort! c:

We do not really know, I fear. We do not even know when and how exactly she learned about Soult's little secondary Spanish family. It is quite possible that it did not come completely unexpected anymore, as people in Paris had been gossipping about Soult's alleged infidelities ever since 1810, and in one of his 1811 letters Soult kind of had admitted to a marital misstep.

If I remember correctly, Soult finally was granted permission to leave Spain by mid-February 1813, and could leave at the beginning of March. On his way through Southern France he took the occasion to go see his old mother in Saint-Amans, whom he originally had wanted to visit four years earlier, on his way into Spain. I do not remember (I'm not even sure if it is clear) if Louise and the kids already met with him in Saint-Amans or if they waited for him in Paris but I suspect they went to Saint-Amans and from there back to the capital that Soult reached at the beginning of April. He soon had to leave again, this time with Napoleon to Germany, on the 1813 campaign, and on 12 April he already gave full powers in all matters to his wife so she could handle affairs during his absence.

Did she at this point already know about the full extent of these affairs? It's likely, but we do not have any real clue.

She must have known by late June 1813, however (interestingly, that's the same time when, many miles away, Maria de la Paz Baylèn and her little baby son leave Spain and enter France). We know that because Soult in his letter fom 23 June at least vaguely hints at how hurt Louise must have been by his confessions. He invites her to come to meet with him at Dresden with their children, despite the fact that [...]

you will not be lodged very well, but you will be with me, your sorrows will cease, your cheerfulness will return, and you will be certain that, despite everything that has happened, you have never ceased to be tenderly loved [...]

"Despite everything that has happened" clearly means that by that point, Louise is fully aware of the existence of Maria de la Paz and her baby. And she had taken it badly, as was to be expected. Obviously, she doubted Soult's love for her, and she may have considered taking further steps, or at least that's something Soult feared:

I'm not talking about the other feelings, for nothing could add to their strength other than the step you're taking right now.

(All emphasis by me)

And then he continues to implore her to come and sit down with him and talk it all over.

So, obviously lots of trouble in honeymoon land. From the looks of it, I'd say Louise did not so much react with fury, but rather turned sad and depressed - which probably hit Soult far more. Her fury she apparently kept in stock for one French emperor to be used when she heard that her husband was about to be sent back to Spain again. But that's a different story 😁.

Thank you for the question, and I hope this kind of suffices, as it seems to be all information there is. (All quotes from N. Gotteri, "Le Maréchal Soult", as usual.)

#napoleon's marshals #jean de dieu soult #louise berg-soult #1813

[witch-and-her-witcher]

Morrill (Mor/Merrill) | T, mentions of war/death/trauma from sexual assault | First Meeting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

ao3

*please mind triggers for SA trauma references

~*~*~

“You’re late.”

Mor hasn’t fully entered the office before the words land like the crack of a whip. 

This is going to be a treat, she thinks in annoyance. 

Before nearly stumbling over her own feet in the first case of gracelessness in … her entire life?

Sitting behind a desk piled high with documents and books propped open to pages for easy comparison, the singular most stunning female Mor has ever seen presides. And she’s leveling the iciest look at Mor from those twilight eyes. Frigid enough to freeze an Illyrian legion mid-march.

And all the more breathtaking for it.

Mor recovers her footing against a burst of tempest.

“Do the members of our ruling court believe themselves above appointment times? Has the Night Court strayed so far from basic etiquette?”

Hair as white as dazzling Winter snow rustles in her own conjured wind. Strands catch on the priestess’s thin lips. The crackle of magic and the scent of ozone tickles Mor’s nose, dares her to poke her tongue out to lick her lips against the familiar tingle of awareness.

But she can’t remove her eyes from the female and she’d likely see the sight of her tongue as an instigation. 

“My sincerest apologies.” Mor smiles easily, practiced, as she sits, crosses one knee over the other in her flowy high-waisted trousers. “Would you prefer I reschedule?”

Merrill, Clotho’s second and the leading researcher for the Night Court who rivals even Helion’s scholars — through abrasive call-out articles in response to their studies in the scholarly circulars, nonetheless. A maelstrom of a female descended from one of the most formidable welders of wind, Lord Rabath. Mor has heard of her, tucked away in the Library, but has somehow never run into her.

Until today.

Today she’s here to strike an impossible bargain.

And she’s completely botched the start.

“So your lack of attention to detail can interrupt my calendar once more? I think not. But I may exercise a hard stop at our original end time, whether we’ve gotten to your portion of the meeting or not.”

“That would be amenable. Fair, for my tardiness and all.”

Merrill scrutinizes the lack of tension in Mor’s posture with the suspicion worthy of a shrew. A creature too used to being underground. 

Mor has to suppress the familiar righteous fury that fills her when considering the circumstances that have chased these females into this mountain sanctuary.

This place isn’t about her, isn’t about vengeance - it’s about healing, and her anger won’t help that. Not now, at least.

“I briefly described the purpose of my inquiry —” Mor highly doubts this female has an ounce of brevity in her body if she describes the lengthy scroll Mor received as ‘brief’ “ — so I assume you’re prepared for this undertaking. I will warn you now, thoroughness will not be compromised.”

“Unless you decide to impose the hard-stop of our appointment time?”

 Merrill’s lips pucker. Only centuries of surviving her Illyrians’ practical jokes keeps Mor’s expression carefully trained beyond a flicker of amusement.

“As I already said, yes.” Twilight depths don’t warm an inch, but a challenge not wholly hostile twinkle in them. “If you insist on asking repetitive questions, we certainly will not have time to discuss your matter.” 

Mor ducks her chin. “Understood. Please, Merrill, I’m ready when you are. I’m fully confident in my ability to follow your precise instructions as well as my stamina to withstand whatever you throw my way.”

Merrill scoffs, sizing up the Morrigan like she isn’t a renowned figure across continents. “We’ll see about that.”

They launch into a lengthy analysis of the firsthand accounts Merrill has collected on the Valkyrie. Asking Mor for confirmation from her own experiences with the warrior females. They’re interrupted briefly by one of Merrill’s assistants, a young Fae barely wet behind the ears, and the pure indignation that seeps from the priestess fills Mor like a kettle of familiarity.

The flippant tone the young female thinks is buried beneath her respectful words raises Mor’s hackles in the same way Nesta’s haughty attitude does.

When she asks if it’s just her or have all the Fae gotten younger and more precocious, she swears a hint of a smile threatens to break Merrill’s steely demeanor. 

After that, a careful truce is drawn. 

A recognition that they’ve both been around far too long for the mouthy, exhibitionist style of the youths these days — surely they never would have been so churlish, dared to speak out against their tutors, their masters in learning.

It’s impossible to tell if minutes or hours pass as they hunt out details in Merrill’s book. It’s more exhilarating than Mor had imagined a review of a comprehensive history could be. It stirs old feelings of wild, reckless times, poor decisions and moments of unbelievable courage; they feel like tales of someone else — not her own stories. But there’s also the somber, smothering reminder of Fae come and gone. 

A lengthy silence follows the passage pertaining to the Gollian Mountains.

Mor presses her hands between her thighs and squeezes them. 

Flesh, blood, above ground.

Or. Not quite so above ground. 

She studies the office, not so far in the depths of the mountain on the second level of the library, but there’s still a hint of cavernous moisture to the air, the faintest trickle of water moving through stone behind the walls. Seeks out the details to chase away the thrum of emotion welling in her throat. 

This isn’t one of the rooms with a window towards Velaris. As if Merrill has intentionally barricaded herself against the heart of the mountain.

They’re both living, but life feels so cut off this far from the surface.

“Don’t you miss it?” The words come out like a great exhale.

Merrill freezes in her diligent note taking. 

Focused, feeding her a steady supply of information, Mor has managed to nearly smooth things over from her social faux pas - but now those sharp eyes are narrowed on her with a promise of violence brimming beneath.

“The wind,” Mor continues. Truth sings in her blood, surges her forward. “It must be stifling to be down here, only catching drafts. Don’t you miss the wind?”

Mor expects a howling rage. A tantrum of papers and curses whipping around her in a tunnel of biting air.

But perhaps it's her earnest expression, or the vulnerability laid out between them in discussing her fallen comrades. Merrill forcefully sets her pen in her ink well, but the current around her is only a trickling stir. She crosses her arms over her chest, nearly tugging the fabric taut enough to reveal a shape of a body underneath.

Mor doesn’t look. 

Like a shuttering pull of blinds Merrill bites back her rage and honesty flickers through.

“Yes,” she grits out. “I miss it with every damned breath under this mountain. The wind cries to me like a forlorn lover, begging me to return.”

They barely know each other, but for some reason Mor’s chest is rising and falling rapidly with the confession. It feels sacred. Like a treasure to hold this female’s candle of truth close, needing to cup it gently with both hands, protect it, so it doesn’t wink out.

“So why don’t you answer Her?”

“Simple. I am a coward, Morrigan. I hide behind my books and research and anger. I punish myself for a crime I didn’t commit because I am so gods-awful afraid to face …”

“What?”

Merrill’s rigid jaw tightens. A storm brews in her twilight depths, the flash of lightning in fractals of shining silver.

“You know what.”

“What if you had help?” Mor breathes, possessed by an overwhelming need to reach across the distance between them —

She squeezes her hands tighter to suppress the urge.

The silver gives way to that icy rage. “You cannot expect to come down here and flaunt your lifestyle of adventure and peril to coax a centuries old hermit from her shell. I am a coward and that can’t be changed with, with — ” she throws a hand towards Mor, as if her entire presence is an affront “ — this pageantry. This beautiful life with the wind and sunlight and … The scent is all over you and it’s tempting like a freshly baked pie cooling on the sill, but … It’s not for me.”

Mor feels a knot forming in her throat. It feels like the number of Fae her age are dwindling. The first war and then the most recent conflicts. There’s been such abysmal loss. The tug of this kindred spirit, this cage of stone …

“I need your help,” she says, and there’s far too much emotion choking her words. Mor should be polished, should be the Queen of the Hewn City - but she’s utterly overwhelmed by the force of her power. Of the Truth that needs to be voiced. “In Valhallen, they dance circles while I try to pin them down. I need your help. No one else is as knowledgeable —”

“That’s why you came here?”

Papers begin to shake. A distant power calls in kind as magic seeps from Merrill. 

“The High Lord would allow such a request when he knows what this retreat is meant for —”

“No, please, it was my idea and Rhys would have my title if he knew I would even try. Clotho, too, would likely string me up as bait for whatever still lurks in the bowels of this Library.” There’s a wobbling to her tone and Mor has no idea why until Merrill’s eyes flash with the release of her power — and the echoing howl answers mournfully. “Mother above, I shouldn’t … I shouldn’t … But the Wind misses you so dearly. I can hear Her now.”

A tear slips unbidden from her, rolls down her cheek. Merrill watches the track in stunned awe.

The papers settle.

“Don’t you miss the wind? The sky? Sunlight?” Mor says shakily and she fumbles her hands onto the desk as close to the priestess as she dares. “I can help. I will help, to face, to face …”

Merrill inhales sharply.

She looks away.

Her hands tremble as they slide across her desk of papers. The tips curl into Mor’s. Something shining and bright hums to life, but neither voices it.

Instead, Mor relishes in the delicate touch. The heavy weight of unwarranted trust — trust she’ll never squander, she’ll use her life to defend.

“Is the situation so dire?” Merrill whispers to the floor littered with thick tomes.

“I wouldn’t beg this of you otherwise.”

To hell with the cream color of her sweater, Mor uses her shoulder to wipe another tear away and swipes a line of black eye makeup with it.

“I - I can’t … Make any commitments yet.”

“It’s an immense ask, I wouldn’t expect a quick answer.”

They remain in gentle silence and Mor tries not to consider the gift it is to touch the magnificent whisperer of the West Winds. To see the truth of her formidable strength she thinks is lost and crumbled. With time, she thinks, with time.

And with some help.

A priestess makes a clatter in the hall just outside of Merrill’s office. As if snapping out of a trance, Merrill withdraws into herself and pulls her spine straight imperiously. 

“Send a formal request, Mor. It will need to go through Clotho considering the obligations I fulfill under her direction. I will write to you once we … I’ve made a decision.”

The lingering warmth of the female’s skin remains like a blush on Mor’s fingers.

“And … if I were to visit before your letter?”

Merrill meets her vulnerable, open gaze. Guarded, cold, but not icy enough to stop warriors dead in their tracks.

Mor’s heart leaps in her throat.

“Wait for my letter.”

She nods in understanding. “Time. Right.”

Mor collects herself from the chair her backside has molded to during their appointment that has bled well past the original hard-stop time. Her thoughts feel heavy, doused in the surge of her power and the thrill of emotion she hasn’t felt in … in her life. A kindred spirit, an answer to a question …

“Mor?”

The excuse to look back as her hand lands on the doorknob is a relief Mor didn’t know she needs. The jewel hanging at the center of her forehead pulses with energy as Merrill considers her next words.

“Seek out the employment of an Order trained scribe. Don't make me a laughingstock presenting your chicken scratch to Clotho."

Mor can’t stop the peel of laughter the same way she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. 

The wind that answers isn’t angry, but a soft whisper of a caress along her flushed cheeks.

#i have so many feelings about these two #the world needs more difficult women #morrill #mor x merrill #mor #merrill #acotar #acotar fanfic #my writing

[acrossthewavesoftime]

Apparently, the last Friday in January was designated in 2016 as "National Big Wig Day" here in the U.S. Given my enthusiasm for all things mid- to late-1700s, I'm choosing to interpret this as "National Eighteenth-Century Big Wig Day"!

Happy Big Wig Day! Go big, or go home! 🤣

Thank you, my friend, for giving me this important piece of information! Which reminds me of this accursed video... ;-)

Since I'm not in the US, I would not have known; it may also have been eclipsed a little on Tumblr and elswhere, as the whimsy and fun of putting on a silly hairstyle for a day may have been somewhat overshadowed account of coinciding with International Holocaust Rememberance Day this year.

Having read up on the origins of Big Wig Day, I was quite surprised to find that behind the fun, there is the serious goal of raising awareness and funds for charitable causes (particularly illnesses (or their treatments) that cause hair loss)! In a reverse-Big Wig way, Yours Truly is currently growing out her hair for donation for a charity providing wigs to children with cancer or alopecia. I don't know how much longer I'll keep growing it out as the length is getting cumbersome, but I currently could do a boat 'do using my own hair (and the underwires and padding used to create the shape of course).

It is, by the way, a shame that modern-day hair stylists don't offer the boat anymore, or else you would see me, a fellow enthusiast of the period, marching about town with a fully rigged first rate naval ship of the late 1700s on my head...

Once I'll cut it off, I'll resort to the boat hat, as seen here on a picture from 2017 Nation of Gondwana Festival by user Nicor on Wikipedia:

Still has a marvellously 18th century vibe to it, no?

Funnily enough however, our friend John Graves Simcoe was not too much of a wig fan; at least the only portrait showing him in one depicts him at about 18 years old.

His godfather Samuel Graves stopped wearing wigs pretty early on, I'd say, too; those were big wigs without big wigs! ;-)

#ask #ask reply #copper haired cuddlebug #wigs #18th century #john graves simcoe #samuel graves

[mahayanapilgrim]

The many teaching techniques of the Buddha - 10

The Buddha was a great teacher with virtues as loving-kindness, compassion, patience, purity of character, being exemplary, possessing true knowledge of all subjects taught, highest level of wisdom, capacity to explain so that the pupils will understand thoroughly, having nothing that will arouse the slightest suspicion of pupils, not doing wrong even secretly, sympathy for others, and being devoid of such weaknesses as jealousy and hatred.

Kings came to this great Teacher, giving up their royal splendour, guild-masters sought Him, giving up their affluence, Ministers came to Him, giving up their Ministries, husbands came giving up their wives, wives came, giving up their husbands, parents came, giving up their children, children came, giving up their parents, householders came to Him, giving up their households.

They all came and became His pupils.

When the Buddha visited a town named Apana in Anguttarapa, a line of 1,250 pupils marched in single file behind Him. Seeing the line of monks headed by the Buddha, walking serenely, the whole of the market town was quite impressed. All the people left their homes and stood on either side of the road. A Brahmin called Keniya, pleased at the sight of this pageant, invited them to his house for next day's mid-day meal. The Buddha did not accept the invitation, saying,

"We are a very large group. It will be extremely difficult to prepare the mid-day meal the next day for such a large group"

The Buddha accepted it after he extended the invitation three times. Kenya assembled all the people in the village and put various people in charge of various tasks. Thus, he offered meals the next day to 1,250 monks headed by the Buddha. The Buddha was fully aware of the problems that will have to be faced by the donors when they had to prepare meals to such a large group as 1,250 persons.

The Buddha did not want to accept invitations that will entail difficulties to others. It is clear by His non-acceptance of the invitation three times. This great Teacher highly esteemed the deference to teachers.

On attaining Enlightenment the Buddha's first concern was to see whether He had a teacher who should be honoured, and to obtain advice from. When He searched, He found that He did not even have another person like Him, not to say anything about a person who could be recognized as His teacher.

"I do not have a teacher. Not even a person who is similar to me."

Therefore, the Buddha kept Dhamma (the Doctrine) as His teacher.

The Buddha is an example to all the teachers in the world. Teachers, when they educate their pupils, must consider quite carefully how the Buddha disciplined His pupils, how He taught them, how He subdued His pupils, how He directed His pupils along the right path, how He made the lives of His pupils successful, and how He fufilled the aims of His pupils.

(End of the chapter on the Buddha's qualities as a teacher)

#buddha #buddhist #buddhism #dharma #sangha #mahayana #zen #milarepa #tibetan buddhism #thich nhat hanh #dhammapada #karma #mindfulness #dakini #four noble truths #pure land #equanimity #avalokitesvara #manjushri #bodhisattva #green tara #tsongkhapa #padmasambhava #atisha #amitaba buddha #shantideva #vajrasattva #vajrayana #vajrayogini #tantra

[forensicated]

Smiffina Episodes - Episode 139

The morning after the night before - where Smithy faces the wrath of Gina after cheating on their drinking game and slipping her doubles where he was drinking singles.

At work, Smithy is suffering the mother of all hangovers and of course custody is incredibly loud and busy. "I really don't need this today...."

An unsuspecting Gina drives to work - late and hungover but believing she is fit to drive after sleep given what she believed she'd been drinking. Unfortunately for her she's in a minor car prang when she's cut up by a white van man, which means she has to get breathalysed by PC Gary Best of all people. Gina's not best pleased to see him arrive with Cameron - and Gary's crapping himself when he realises what he has to do. (I love Cam's literal "uh oh!") ".... had an accident ma'am?" "You know, you should be in CID with detective skills like that." Gina tries to get moving so she can get on into work... only for the breath test to fail - Gina's still over the legal limit. Gary flails but quickly covers and tells Cameron to go to the shout that has just come in and he'll 'grab a lift with the Inspector'. Cameron does... and Gary is terrified. He has to arrest the Inspector. Gina is very pragmatic about it and tells him its not his fault. Smithy however is not quite so understanding. "Sarge, I've got a problem." "What?" "I've arrested the inspector…." "……. You've done what?"

Smithy and Gina have a private chat in the custody Sgt's office where Gina reaffirms that she's drunk that much plenty of times and always been fine the next morning. Smithy tries to blame a faulty breathalyser but Gina won't hear of it. She's fully aware she could lose her job over it and just wants to get the official stuff done. As they leave the office more loud and rowdy customers appear in custody and Smithy is Not. Happy. "Calm yourself down!" he orders, grabbing one by the neck and marching him to the desk. "Today is not a good day!"

Smithy tries ordering Gary to blow into the machine. He tells Gary he has to do it because he was the one that brought her in "All you had to do was tell her it was negative and let her get back in the car! But you didn't do that did you? You messed up big time so you're the one that's going to have to get her out of it!" Nothing to do with the fact that Smithy is potentially likely still over the limit himself, obviously. Gary's terrified "Sarge, you're going red..." mid bollocking is adorable and hilarious. Gary is worried that it might get out that they covered it up and he'd lose his job to - as would Smithy - so Gary brings her in. Smithy tells Gina that Gary is going to take the test for her. Gina refuses, she is the Inspector of the nick and she is going to take the consequences - whatever they are.

Smithy is not prepared to let her go - nor admit the truth yet - so he tells Gina that she has blown just under the legal limit. Gina thanks God, Smithy and Gary and leaves to take an asprin, have a smoke and a very strong coffee. Gary is really relieved it's all over - but it's not... it's reading 42. The legal limit is 35 for breath tests. With Gina out the room Gary volunteers to take the test - without telling Gina. He's under the limit as he's reading 32. Both Smithy and Gary are thrilled - but Gary for another reason too... it could be his leaverage to get into SWAMP!

Smithy thinks things are all back to normal as Sheelagh returns from court to take over custody and he escapes to his office... only to see Gina on her way out. She doesn't know she's not fit to drive so he has to quickly grab his things to join her for a 'hangover hotdog' so he can do the driving. (Though if Gary was blowing 32 hours after a 'couple of beers' the night before and a nights sleep, what would Smithy be blowing considering the state he was in?! Shush, we're not to think like this! It's The Bill (PM Era!) throw away your logic!)

At the burger van, Smithy could not be LESS ready for a Hangover Hotdog.

"What's the matter? Lost your appetite?"

"Rules are rules. If I thought you were bending those rules for anyone, including me, I'd kick you from hell to breakfast."

As an aside, both Honey and Gary show some excellent restraint not petting or even acknowledging the worlds friendliest dog as they come out of a shop - I'd still be there now.

Smithy and Gina go to a call where they find a man who has been harassed by a White Van Man who smashed his windscreen with a wheeljack after cutting him up. He managed to get the registration which is familiar to Gina - it's the same one who cut her up that morning. The van has been involved in another disturbance closeby but Smithy doesn't know where the street is. Gina marches off to go and deal with it and shouts for the keys. Smithy's in a bit of a bind... he can't let her drive! Gina's well aware of what is going on and forces (some of!) the truth from Smithy. He admits he doesn't know what he/they'd do if she had gotten into the car, driven and hit someone but he couldn't let her throw her career and pension away [for something he'd done.] She still doesn't know he cheated the drinking game yet. She does corner him in an interview room at the end however and point out how if she was over the limit - how wasn't he? (but not for the reasons you'd think. Also ignoring the genetic differences, age and metabolism but concentrating on them having had the 'same' drinks) and he confessed he cheated and got her doubles to his singles.

"You are like a puppy! Stupid, loyal, leaving a mess everywhere for someone else to clear up!"

Gary's ontop of the world and pinches some food from Smithy's plate in the canteen. Gabriel is curious what 'take risks' means when Gary adds it in as a reason he should be in SWAMP. Smithy dismisses it but comes up with an initiation challenge for Gary - he has to streak around the station.

"I seem to have been a bit premature, can you just forget everything I said, Ma'am?" "Whatever you say, but my door is always open if you change your mind-"

"........" "... can you close the door on your way out, please?"

Gary returns to Gabriel and Smithy, pleased as punch that he's done it and passed his initiation... only to be told he'd failed for actually doing it!

"And by the way, Gary... I've had to deal with enough knobs today. I'm sure it's very impressive but keep it in your pants."

#The Bill #Episode 139 #Gina Gold #Roberta Taylor #Dale Smith #Smithy #Alex Walkinshaw #Ciaran Griffiths #Gary Best #Cameron Tait #Dan MacPherson #Smiffina #Smiffinalong #Gabriel Kent #Todd Carty

[texeoghea]

btw i dont feel like making a whole art vs artist collage or a page showing my art across the year (thats what my monthly tags are for) but like i dont think my art style has necessarily changed very much

Like . comparing the roadtrip image from March with the rough draft of Wolf's design and the AU concept from mid-November, i don't see an actual change in STYLE (technique, linework) so much as simple improvement. I've started coloring almost all of the lines, I've been recently experimenting with actual color palettes to help with balancing and using unique palettes for each character on the page. in the roadtrip image, i experimented with using pre-existing images as assets in my work, which I have done multiple times since, including in the second image's background. I also played with expressing lighting by adding a soft brush in a lighter tone to the otherwise monotonous linework, which i don't do often (because i don't do lighting often), but i think it looks very lovely and works well. but when it comes to raw style I feel like it's almost exactly the same between pieces.

Which isn't a bad thing! I love how my art has looked this year, it's so smooth and elegant, I've been very proud of most of my works. It's just interesting to notice. I feel like last year, I was very indecisive with my style, so this is a nice change of pace.

also, I don't feel like posting a selfie. not that i'm not absolutely gorgeous (I am), but I'm fully aware that the way my body looks best and the way my art tends to look is usually pretty different. I'm very handsome, and my art tends to be more on the soft, cute side. Which I also like. I contain multitudes. Also, I'm typically nearly bald, and I've been drawing a lot of full-haired anime boys lately, which would look pretty silly side by side

#idk what to tag this as ghiguhsrg its literally not an art vs artist

[vestigesdesempires]

June 20, 2022 The body at play A brief history of performance P.3

International Klein Blue, does it ring a bell? Three trends that mark European performances of the 20th century: mythologisation of the artists by themselves, politicisation of art, and sanctification of a human body in the world where two devastating world wars left nothing sacred. This post will cover the contribution of the French artist Yves Klein (told you, our lecturer managed to cover A LOT). 

Yves Klein Sitting at a beach with his friends, Yves Klein claimed the sky to be his own - which later will turn out to be a life-long obsession. He created his own colour  - the International Klein Blue (IKB) - that he would later use to draw his monochrome paintings. He also used gold and pink for his monochromes like in his Ex-Voto dedicated to Saint Rita de Cascia (1961) where blue symbolises God, gold symbolises the Father, and pink symbolises the Holy Spirit (see below).

He used naked models as brushes to create the Anthropometries - engaging the models with the work in a process of co-creation. The Anthropometries signigy both the paintings and the processes of creation - the most famous one that took place in the  Galérie International d'Art Contemporain in 1960.

On a clear night in March at ten pm sharp a crowd of one hundred people, all dressed in black tie attire, came to the Galerie International d'Art Contemporain in Paris. The event was the first conceptual piece to be shown at this gallery by their new artist Mr. Yves Klein. The gallery was one of the finest in Paris.      Mr. Klein in a black dinner jacket proceeded to conduct a ten piece orchestra in his personal composition of The Monotone Symphony, which he had written in 1949. This symphony consisted of one note.       Three models appeared, all with very beautiful naked bodies. They were then conducted as was the full orchestra by Mr. Klein. The music began. The models then rolled themselves in the blue paint that had been placed on giant pieces of artist paper - the paper had been carefully placed on one side of the galleries' wall and floor area - opposite the full orchestra. Everything was composed so breathtakingly beautifully. The spectacle was surely a metaphysical and spiritual event for all. This went on for twenty minutes. When the symphony stopped it was followed by a strict twenty minutes of silence, in which everyone in the room willingly froze themselves in their own private meditation space.       At the end of Yves' piece everyone in the audience was fully aware they had been in the presence of a genius at work, the piece was a huge success! Mr. Klein triumphed. It would be his greatest moment in art history, a total success.       The spectacle had unquestionable poetic beauty, and Mr. Kleins' last words that night were, "THE MYTH IS IN ART".

Source: http://www.yvesklein.de/symphony.html

“Le saut dans le vide” is a performance of a ‘leap into the void’ captured in a picture. Thanks to photo manipulations it looks as if the artist was about to take off from the wall and pursue the immaterial.

The “saut dans le vide”, a now iconic performance, was executed on October 19 on Rue Gentil-Bernard in Fontenay-aux-Roses, a suburb south-west of Paris where the artist regularly trained in judo. Yves Klein leaps from a pillar at the entrance of a pavilion, his face turned towards the sky, his arms crossed. Far from falling, the artist takes off. The street is empty, except for a cyclist passing by in the bottom right of the photograph. The fact that a man is hanging mid-air does not cause him to stop or even turn his head.

Source: https://www.sothebys.com/en/articles/learning-to-fly-with-yves-kleins-le-saut-dans-le-vide

Some interesting videos: Interview with Rotraut Klein-Moquay, an artist herself and a widow of Yves Klein talking about his works and her experience as a ‘human paintbrush’ -  Rotraut Interview: Yves Klein's Living Paintbrushes A short video showing Klein directing the creation of a painting - Yves Klein Anthropométries A video by Christie’s -  What Inspired Yves Klein? A short articles listing 10 facts about Yves Klein https://blog.artsper.com/en/a-closer-look/10-things-to-know-about-yves-klein/

#Ecole du Louvre #EdL #academia #kind of #Yves Klein #the Anthropometries #performance #the International Klein Blue #monochrome

[theautibrainproject]

My autism story pt. 01

I got diagnosed, officially on March 9th. I was being tested mid to late December the year before and finally got my diagnosis report on March 9th. A few days later, on March 15th, I turned 26.

Ever since that day, I am taking medication to make my life easier. Because not only did I get diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder but I also got diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder and ADHD.

However... Over time, I started to realise there were cracks in my friendships. Most of my friends are located across the globe and I talk to them on Discord. But over time, I noticed I was being left out.

I'm not someone people trust with their troubles. I'm not included in certain events like a movie night or a game. Because, I'm not in a private voice call channel in Discord with my friends. While others are, and they're mutual friends most of the time.

It has come to a point that... in late 2023 and early 2024, a friend took an emotional break from me. Which meant... we weren't talking. We didn't socialize together and we didn't talk in the same voice call channels. It probably doesn't shock you or surprise you, that I felt like I got my heart broken. While this friend missed me, they didn't make a decision to reach out to me after 2 weeks. It took them a month.

In that month, of no communication whatsoever between us, I felt utterly depressed. I felt like I got broken up with. That's the pain I experienced. I laughed and smiled, one moment. The next, I wanted to cry. I wanted to sob and bawl my eyes out because no one knew what was going on. I told a few friends. When I reached out to them for support. But, my family didn't know. They weren't aware of the fact their daughter, their 27 year old daughter cried herself to sleep at night because her friendships were falling apart.

Even now, not a month ago, I got told by another friend (who is on the spectrum) that I emotionally drain my friends. To the point I push them away unintentionally.

The friend also told me that my platonic attachments or the way I get attached to people is unhealthy.

Yes, when I become comfortable around you and view you as a friend, I'm texting you a lot.

Yes, you'll receive 100 messages from me throughout a month. More so if you expressed you were in a bad mood. Because I'll reach out and make sure you're okay.

Yes, I'm now aware it is overwhelming for the other person.

I'm also fully aware that this could be connected to my diagnosis.

But tell me this. Would you keep fighting for a friendship when all your friends do is tell you, you drain them emotionally? That you overwhelm them. That you unintentionally push them away because you're love language is texting the friend(s) in question every day?

I wouldn't. It's tiring me out. Especially if you put in all the effort and they don't. They don't reach out to you. At all.

I tried to save a friendship. I really did. But it seems pointless. Reading about the fact that people on the Spectrum have a hard time maintaining friendships was tough. Because I thought: "that isn't me. My friendships are fine."

They aren't. They aren't doing fine. At all. Two people have told me, basically, that I exhaust them emotionally. That makes 2/5 close friends.

Offline, in the real world, I don't have friends. At all.

I tried to be extroverted at times. But it's exhausting being what you're not. I always disappear into the background. People don't talk to me. They naturally gravitate towards the people that are more open, more talkative. More social.

I'm never noticed. Because I just sit there in a voice call or sit my 3D avatar on IMVU down on a couch and don't say a word. I try to worm my way into an interesting conversation. But I get ignored.

Honestly? Ever since that break with that friend, I have been less myself. I have suffered more than I usually do. We all have a bad day. Who doesn't? But my bad days keep stacking up. And there seems to be no end to them.

All I want is to have friends who understand me. Who don't hurt me by saying I drain them and end up pushing me away. Because the moment you tell me that I need to be less emotionally draining or be in your messages less, I will result to not talking to you at all. Because I would just be bothering you.

So why would I even message you? It's not like people will miss me when I go offline all week.

It's not like people will blow up my phone, asking me if I'm okay.

To me? Autism sucks. Because my life is painful. I can handle a bad day. But not this.

But I also know that true friends will stick around. Fake ones wil be filtered out. That much I know. If these friends are fake? I will have new ones in no time.

#autism #my autism story #theautibrainproject

[2024inwords]

I have heard about global warming since school, and with the growing talks on sustainability in recent years, it’s something I know in the back of my mind. But truthfully, I never fully grasped how it impacts our daily lives until last month. On February 1st, I felt the heat, which was unusual because usually, we have “cool” weather until mid-March. I remember this time last year, I was in Ortigas, enjoying a warm bowl of Korean jjampong because the weather was cool and windy. Around the 4th week of January, my friends and I “recreated” that experience from last year because we thought, once March enters, we won’t be able to enjoy a warm bowl of jjamppong anymore because it just wouldn’t be a nice experience with the summer heat. So I was extremely surprised when February entered, and I was already sweating. Then when I go outside at around 11am, the striking sun was so bad, it was literally hurting my eyes. This experience made me realize that this is the clearest example of the deteriorating health of our earth – summer becoming earlier and earlier in the year. And this increasing heat is consistent across the globe – my family and I usually spend Holy Week in a “cool” country where it is spring season because we want to take advantage of the weather during this one time in the year we can all travel together. Previous years, even though we’d travel end March or early April, it was still cold. Literally just this morning, my sister sent me our family photo from our March 26, 2016 trip to Taiwan. In the photo, we were bundled up in jackets and scarves to keep ourselves warm in 13-degree weather. Next week, we’re going back to the same country and based on forecasts, the temperature will be 18-31 degrees. What a difference! These realizations are what’s making me more aware how much of an issue global warming is becoming because the impact is getting closer and closer to our daily lives. Maybe it’s also because I have a niece now, but these experiences are making me worried about what’s going to happen years from now. It also made me realize why small acts like bringing a water bottle instead of buying outside, foregoing the use of plastic straw, and bringing our own eco bag while doing our groceries really matter. A lot of us think, “it’s just 1 plastic bottle or sachet – it won’t hurt” and admittedly, I used to think like that too. However, there is a growing concern to make more and more people realize that even though zero waste may not be achievable in our lifetime, it’s not a reason for us to not take action. It’s not about “sacrificing” today because living in this world on borrowed time is a privilege that we should be grateful for. We have an obligation to preserve this earth and leave it in the same beauty we found it, if not better, so the future generations that will come after us can also enjoy it because they have every right to. Realizing the interconnection on how living sustainably affects the world my niece, Emma, will be living in, made me more mindful about my daily actions. And truthfully, when I think about how the world will be 20 years from now, it scares me – the possibility of wearing oxygen masks to protect ourselves from bad air quality and most especially the heat. As it is, 3 months of summer is already a challenge – what more if it’s going to be prolonged. I am making a personal commitment to doing my best to contribute to preserving the earth for future generations to come, and I also hope that more initiatives and regulations will be in place for all of us to achieve our sustainability goals because sustainability will only be possible if we all work together. It cannot be done by one person alone.

[homeispdx]

Opposing opinions

Political figures like Eric Adams, the mayor of New York City, lament the situation of the homeless and pledge to provide bigger, better shelters as well as long-term homes. However, the city's first reaction was the all-too-common dependence on police strategies, such clearing up camps and using the subway system. Massive sweeps via subways and underpasses under highways began in mid-March, eliminating 239 out of the 244 encampments that city officials were aware of. Just five of the people who were roused consented to visit a shelter, which suggests the risks and discomfort associated with crowded shelters. Cities all around the nation act out this scenario. The Covid-19 pandemic struck at a time when American homelessness was on the rise, particularly in Los Angeles and New York City. Strangely enough, thousands of homeless people were relocated from overcrowded shelters and encampments to vacant hotel rooms in an effort to combat "superspreader" living circumstances, which allowed for a significant change in the provision of homeless services. There is evidence that those who are homeless are not seen as fully human, even though they are thought to be in need of support and compassion and to be struggling. According to research, those who are homeless collectively are viewed as "the lowest of the low" since they are neither warm nor competent. This can reduce humans to the status of inanimate objects and inspire the worst type of bias, which is revulsion and disdain. This weakens a person's capacity to tolerate discrimination by strengthening the perception of legitimacy for unfavorable treatment of the homeless. Third, those who are homeless frequently experience discrimination for other reasons in addition to their housing situation. Specifically, these people frequently suffer from mental illness and/or drug addiction, which are highly stigmatized disorders in our society.

[derschwarzeengel]

Anonymous asked: REFLECT

send REFLECT for me to explain a traumatic event in my muse’s past and talk about their perception of events, which parts have stayed with them longest and how it affects them now. || Accepting

TRIGGER WARNING FOR DISCUSSIONS OF DATE RAPE AND REPRODUCTIVE COERCION.

Damon had no idea that his sister-in-law Anja was lusting after him until she approached him one night after she’d already been married to his brother Christian for a little less than five years. (They married 21. April 1822.) He was pre-occupied with his own studies in witchcraft and helping his mother with her business to pay much attention to his brother’s wife, especially not since there were already rumors swirling around about him among the duchy’s female population.

So as a result, he was completely taken aback when Anja came onto him that night in his house, touched him, pushed him down onto the sofa and straddled him, said that she wanted his child inside her as Christian couldn’t give her what she wanted... and she didn’t give Damon a choice in the matter. If he refused her, she would simply go to her husband and spin it so that Damon had forced her instead of the other way around. It would have been easy enough for Christian to believe, given his animosity toward his younger brother. Trapped, knowing no one would believe his version of events, Damon had no choice but to reluctantly give in to her advances, her demands.

On Walpurgisnacht 1827, three months later, Anja finally had her wish granted: she conceived a son with Damon, whom she named Paul. Four months after Paul was born, Anja again went to Damon and this time conceived a daughter, Marie, born 5. March 1828. She passed both children off as her husband’s, never telling them or Christian that Damon was their biological father. After Marie was born, Damon quietly told Anja in no uncertain terms that if she ever used him like that again to have another child, he would kill her, consequences be damned.

In his years after, both as a mortal and a Darklighter, Damon is still definitely affected by what happened to him with Anja. She’s the one responsible for starting his breeding kink, and she also made it clear to him that she only wanted him because he was physically highly attractive and into dark magic: viewing him not as an individual person, but a walking sex object. Damon still enjoys sex and what he does as his kind of Darklighter (seducing and impregnating human women), but his past with Anja has definitely fucked with his self-esteem and has him sexualizing himself, viewing himself only as a walking sperm donor for the underworld. He doesn’t see that there’s anything in him for someone to genuinely love and care for. Not to mention his occupation in the mortal world as a rock singer, so he’s had to deal with overzealous groupies who make no secret of the fact they want to have sex with him and/or claim he’s their baby daddy (never mind that he doesn’t sleep with them if they’re not Future Whitelighters he hasn’t already been assigned to). There’s also the whole “Darklighters are incapable of love” rhetoric he’s been exposed to by the other side ever since he became a Darklighter.

Nowadays, it’s been so long that he’s not entirely sure if he did fully consent to Anja’s advances or not. And considering the time period and attitudes around sex, he wasn’t even fully aware that what Anja had done to him would be considered rape until sometime in the mid-21st century. He doesn’t particularly need sleep, but when he does, he’ll occasionally have flashbacks, nightmares and won’t want anyone else to touch him until he’s calmed down.

#Anonymous #in the darkness is the light ( Character Study. )

[quiet--menace]

“And I’m expected to believe a sellsword is good with children?” Tanda asked. Lollys flushed with embarrassment or sun. Still her posture implied that Bronn’s answer was important. “I’m sure you have siblings,” Tanda laughed to herself, “Fleabottom seems to have more brats than it does rats.” As the serving girl poured apple-wine, Bronn imagined all the ways an old woman could die. “Aye,” he confirmed, “One of eight rats . Half raised the litter born after me.” Not worth mentioning how three never made it past infancy. and of the five left Bronn was the last alive.

A Lamb To The Slaughter by Birdie Lo Green

February Ficlet day 20  prompt: awkward first meeting (Bronn/Lollys Stokeworth)

#personal #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #fic #gameofthrones #gameofthronesfan #gameofthronesfic #Bronn of the Blackwater #bronn #lollys stokeworth #bronn/lollys #tanda stokeworth #house stokeworth #season 8 fic #deadmensingnosongs #bybirdielogreen #february ficlet challenge #fully aware that it's mid march #trying my best to finish a prompt challenge for once #finishing one by the deadline will be my next challenge

[depths-of-escapism-archive]

rawr

#my art #krita #drawing #digital drawing #artists on tumblr #art #digital art #artwork #i?? just.. what even is this piece lmao #like okay so i had the original concept for this piece in like literally mid march #and then i started and finished this background in late march #then also in late march i started drawing the figure.. realized that I don't have the skills for the original concept and I just??? #didn't work on this piece till like April 10th lol when I gave up on the original concept and just threw in a random doodle i had laying #around and colored it to somewhat work lmao #so basically yes im fully aware that this piece makes literally no sense and barely works lmao

[joansiefics]

Hii, could you maybe do a BuckyxReader, where he is really mean to her and she gets sad because she is in love with him and thinks he hates her because he is nice to the others, and maybe she gets sick after a mission and Bucky takes care of her and confesses that he is actually in love with her too? Thanks! :)

A Malaria Confession

BUCKY BARNES X READER

SUMMARY: You are in love with Bucky, but according to the way Bucky is towards you the feelings don't reciprocate. But maybe the truth will come out when you end up sick on a mission and Bucky is the only one there with you.

WARNINGS: Malaria (vomiting, sweating), Mean Bucky (turns out to be nice towards the end), Needles

A/N: I’m sorry it took so long to write this request. I have a much more relaxed schedule this week and I’m going to try and write the remaining requests. Thank you for being so patient with me. I really hope this one-shot is what you had in mind. enjoy <3

My REQUESTS are OPEN 

My MARVEL MASTERLIST || My PROMPT LIST

Add yourself to my TAGLIST

"Was that really necessary?!" you yell at Bucky, as the coffee drips from your soaked t-shirt and the toast lies butter-side down, between scattered pieces of ceramic. "It was your fault, you didn't look where you were going" Bucky argues back. "I was fully aware of where I was going, you pushed me... on. purpose." you say through gritted teeth and hands clenched.

"Everyone please meet me in the meeting room in 10 minutes" came Steve's voice through the intercom. "Now help me clean up or I won't be at the meeting on time" you say to Bucky as you begin to pick up the shards of ceramic. "You made the mess, you clean it up" and with that Bucky leaves the mess to you. "Jerk" you mumble under your breath.

------

"You need to bring your 'A' game when you infiltrate this Russian HYDRA base -" you burst into the meeting room, mid-meeting, mid-sentence. "Nice of you to join us Y/N" Steve sarcastically says. You ignore Steve "You" you say marching straight towards Bucky's smug looking face "you filthy freaking pig, you jerk, you, you" "ENOUGH!!" Steve's booming voice chips in. "No" you disobey Steve "your dearest, old, chap" you say, pointing a blue finger at Bucky "put blue food coloring in my soap" "how do you know it was Buc -" "and he made me drop my plate and then left me to clean it up by myself!!" you interrupt Steve's attempt at peace.

"That's absurd, I didn't even touch you or your stupid soap!!" Bucky defends himself. "You guys can continue your flirting later, but right now we have a sort of serious and critical mission at hand." "We weren't flirting" you mumble your contend that Tony's statement is false. "As I was saying before all peace was disturbed..." Steve glares at you and then at Bucky "this HYDRA base is really secure and well protected..."

The meeting carries on for 45 minutes, with occasional death glares from your side to Bucky's. "Only one pair will go on this mission, it'll be easier to stay off of the radar. Steve looks at you with a smug smile "No, no, no, no, no..." everyone turns their heads towards you. "and the lucky pair is Y/N and Bucky" Steve announces "I am not going on a mission paired up with grandpa over there" you protest, tilting your head in Bucky's direction. "You don't have a choice Y/N" Tony buts in, before Steve can be all nice guy again. "You two have to start getting along and this is the perfect opportunity. Now go suit up and pack and meet each other at the helipad in an hour for the takeoff"

------

Just before you can enter your room, Bucky comes up behind you "just so you know, if I had any other choice, I would have chosen that instead of going on this mission with you." "feeling's mutual" you casually say shrugging him off before you slam your bedroom door in his face. "Of coarse the feeling's not mutual, I'd drop anyone and anything for him!!!"  you frustratedly think as you get ready for the mission.

------

"Hey Steve, can I talk to you for a second?" you ask when you spot him on your way to the quinjet. "Of coarse Y/N, what's bothering you?" "I just wanted to say that I am so, so, so, sorry about earlier and that I never wanted to interrupt or cause a scene" "It's okay Y/N, we've all done it before..." Steve gives you a look over "but what's really bothering you?" Steve asks, concern lacing his voice and features. "Why does Bucky hate me? I mean what have I ever done to him? you ask, sharing your concern with Steve. "He doesn't hate you Y/N. He just has a different way of showing his concern for people." Steve tries to reassure you. "Don't lie to me Steve, around you guys he's always smiling and goofing around. He's so nice to everyone, except me..." the last part comes out as a mere whisper "and then as soon as I walk into the room his frown returns and his back to grumpy, old, mean Bucky."

"Maybe you guys should talk it out, I mean have you ever asked him if he really hates you, or are you just assuming?" Steve proposes "I mean all the signs are there, so I've just assumed that he does" "You know what they say about assuming, right?" Steve asks, a smirk creeping up on his lips. You look at him quizzically "never assume... it makes an ass out of u and me" he says laughing. "When you're done with your tea party, I'd like to get going and get this over with" Bucky yells at you and Steve from the quinjet. With one last look at Steve and one last reassuring shoulder squeeze from Steve you run to the impatient Bucky.

------

You've been on this mission for a week now and nothing has changed - Bucky is still as mean as ever to you and the HYDRA base was still standing. "I told you to follow my instructions!!!" Bucky scolds you through the comms. "And I did, until the circumstances changed!!!" you yell back. "You had to first check with me to see if it was okay to change the plans!!!" "There wasn't any time!!!" at this stage you felt like crying "I was just doing what I thought was best for the given situation" you silently say. "Well it wasn't the best decision and you almost got hurt really badly" "Then why do you care so much? You want to see me in pain, so why avoid the perfect situation?!" and with that you click off the comms.

------

"Bucky?" you call out as you enter his room in the safe house. You stagger over to his bedside, before shaking his shoulders. "Bucky, please wake up" He let out a groan, before gradually opening his eyes. "What do you want" he asks harshly "The first aid kit... the one Tony gave you before the mission. Did you bring it? Please tell me you brought it" "Why do you need the first aid kit? It's..." he looks at the digital clock on the bedside table "it's 03:00 in the morning!!!" "I don't have time for this right now Bucky, just please tell me where the damn first aid kit is" you ask slightly out of breath and a wavering voice. This made Bucky quickly join you next to his bed.

"Are you okay?... What happened?" for the first time he sounds...."worried?" "I'm okay, can I please just get the--" the sudden, overpowering feeling of nausea has you running to the bathroom and you make it to the toilet just in time to throw up. It feels like your lungs are breaking into tiny pieces and escaping through your esophagus. You feel a cool touch on the back of your neck, your hair being pulled out of your face and soothing circles being rubbed on your back. "Just let it out, you'll be okay"

After another 15 minutes of vomiting and Bucky comforting you all the way, you plop down next to toilet, body exhausted. Bucky puts his flesh hand to your forehead "geez, you're burning up doll... I'm quickly going to fetch the first aid kit" Bucky says, before running out of the bathroom. "I wish the earth would swallow me whole, I just threw up in front of the guy who I am madly in love with, but also the guy who hates my guts... does he hate my guts, I mean he did call me 'doll' and he helped me"

"I just got off a phone call with Bruce and he says it's possible that you might have malaria, so as a precaution I have to give you these chloroquine pills" he says as he hands you a bottle of water and the pills. "Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?" you ask, no longer being able to keep the question to yourself. "I--" you don't let Bucky finish "I mean, it's not worth it for me to experience this nice side of you, only for you to forget all this when I'm better and leave me even more in love with you and even more broken than I am now" You don't even notice your hidden confession and the rest of your words fall on deaf ears. "You love me?" Bucky interrupts your rambling.

You just stare at him, wondering when you let that slip out. "I won't leave you broken. I should have noticed earlier that you were hurting and that it was all my doing , but the thought of someone hurting you because of me, made me push you away, and I'm sorry about that." You just keep staring at him, mouth agape at his unexpected confession. "What I'm trying to say is that..." he swallows the lump creeping up in his throat and combs a hand through his hair "I love you too, and I'm sorry for not telling you sooner." "I'd kiss you right now if I didn't smell like vomit and sweat" you joke.

------

The next morning you wake up, drenched in sweat, shivering under the pile of blankets, Bucky covered your shaking form with the previous night. "Bucky" you try to yell, but only for a broken, breathless cough to escape. Luckily Bucky soon enters the room with a tray of biscuits, water and medication. "Bucky" you try again and this catches his attention. "Are you feeling worse than last night?" he asks concerned, pressing his vibranium hand to your burning forehead to soothe the pain. It takes all your energy to nod your head 'yes' and Bucky picks up on this. "I'm going to have to hook you up to an IV Y/N, you're dehydrated and then I need to insert the parental artesunate, okay?" he asks, already setting up the equipment. "It'll only hurt for a second" Bucky reassures you, before pushing the needle of the IV into the elbow pit. He then inserts the parenteral infusion into your leg, while on a call with Steve. "We're ending this mission Steve. She's really sick and I'm not risking her life for some stupid HYDRA mission. They've ruined everything I had and I'm not letting them ruin Y/N as well." and with that said he hangs up.

"Try and get some sleep for me, I'll be here when you wake up." He sees the hesitancy on your face and your battle to keep your eyes on him, afraid that all this was just a dream. "I'm never leaving you again and that's a promise" That's all it takes for you to relax against the muscular chest of the man you thought despised you and fall into a healing sleep.

---------------------------------

Tags: (if your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you)

@buckyzzrogers @buckyandstevesbitch @ooopsthiswasnotsupposedtohappen

#comfort bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x sick reader #bucky barnes x ill reader #enemies to lovers #steve x reader #marvel #malaria #bucky barnes x malaria reader