#i went to the blog of the person who had that out of left field take on wyll from a few days ago

[paarthursass]

.

#sophie.txt #i should Not do this to myself but #i went to the blog of the person who had that out of left field take on wyll from a few days ago #and saw they made another post that said something to the effect of #'um. be GRATEFUL that wyll only has 8 hours of content. because the alternative was him being CUT FROM THE GAME' #and then they also said that ppl criticizing larian for rewriting wyll was a slap in the face to theo bcs he worked so hard on voicing wyll #like ???? this person has a Gift for having the Most Bad Faith readings of Any situation #genuinely bending over backwards bcs they can't stand ppl criticizing larian for anything #holy shit #anyways. i still have that person blocked which is why i didn't see that post initially in the wyll tag but. holy shit #terrifying look into the other side of the fandom there folks

[sailor-aviator]

The Beginning

Stranger Like Me: Prologue

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: From a young age, the animal kingdom had fascinated you, and maybe that's why you chose to pursue that passion. You quickly became a force within the field, becoming the leading expert on ape social structures, which is how you found yourself on an expedition into the African jungles searching for a troop of gorillas. What you weren't expecting, however, was to run into the local wild man on one of your excursions... (Tarzan!AU)

Trigger Warnings: Talk of loneliness, Inaccurate scientific descriptions and terminology, Flirty Jake, Allusions to loss of parents, Talk of reintigrating someone into society...I think that's it.

Word Count: 1,263

A/N: Here it is! I hope y'all don't mind me making you wait too long! This blog is 18+ ONLY! As always, reblogs and comments are welcomed and encouraged!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where all of my stories and drabbles are posted! If you would like to be added to the Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw tag list, please click the link below!

Series Masterlist || Moodboard 1 || Moodboard 2 || Moodboard 3 || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Tag List

You had a running theory that there were two types of people in this world: plant people and animal people. You? You were most definitely an animal person. Growing up, you visited the zoo frequently, the employees practically knowing you by name. You did your best to memorize as many facts as you could about the different animals in each exhibit, knowing from an early age that you wanted to work with animals for the rest of your life.

You’d spend hours at the primate exhibits, watching the way the different apes and monkeys interact with each other, and you wished you could fast forward to the moment where you got to study it day in and day out.

So, you worked hard, graduating high school with honors before moving on to study zoology in undergrad, and then skipping straight to your doctorate program after that. It had been a long, grueling road that left little time for much else, but it was your passion, and once you had been greeted with the title of “doctor,” you knew it had all been worth it.

That didn’t stop your bouts of loneliness though. While your friends all went out to party, you were usually found with your nose buried in a book. And it wasn’t like you wanted to go out partying, but it still hurt when your friends stopped asking.

And then there was Jake Seresin, your handsome best friend of several years who knew he looked good and never failed to own it. The two of you had met in the early days of undergrad, having been partnered up in a biology lab, and you had hit it off immediately. Jake wasn’t interested in primates, his focus turned towards botany of all things, but he loved to tease you about your love of great apes.

“A cute girl like you studying monkeys?” He had chuckled with a shake of his head, mossy green eyes glimmering with mischief. “You must have had a wild fascination with Boots the monkey, huh?”

“First of all, peabrain,” you scowled at him, fighting back the smile that threatened to take over your face as his jaw dropped, “I study apes, not monkeys. Second of all, my fascination with Boots is none of your business.”

“Whatever you say, Boots.”

And the nickname had stuck. It followed you through undergrad and all the way through to your now budding career as one of the leading researchers in gorilla social structures. Which is also how you found yourself invited to the North Island Research Camp in the Republic of the Congo.

The camp wasn’t some grand research center, but it was well respected amongst the scientific community for gathering the most up-to-date research and hands-on experiences between researchers and local fauna. The camp was run by Dr. Pete Mitchell and Dr. Tom Kazansky, both legends within the field and rarely opening up their camp to other researchers. You had been thrilled to receive the invitation, and even more thrilled when you found out that Jake had also received an invitation to the camp to continue his research on tropical plants.

The two of you had made plans to fly out of San Diego at the same time, even choosing to stay at his place the night before your flight.

“The early bird gets the worm, Boots!” He chirped, loading up the trunk of the Uber with your luggage. How he was so cheerful at three in the morning was beyond you.

The flight to your destination was uneventful, choosing to catch up on some of your reading as well as sleep for the majority of the flight. The two of you were greeted by a bespectacled man once you departed the plane, his demeanor relaxed but his face shy as he helped you with your bags.

“I’m Bob,” he said, loading the back of his jeep with your belongings. “I’m helping out Pete and Tom with their research. The other researcher is already at the camp. He got here about a month ago.”

“Who is it?” You asked him, hopping into the front seat of the car as Jake clambered into the back.

“Javy Machado,” Bob answered, already making his way through the city and towards the jungle. “He’s doing research into termite colonies.”

“Javy’s gonna be there?” Jake asked, leaning forward with a grin. You rolled your eyes at him. Javy and Jake almost went as far back as you two did, having first met in a chemistry course their junior year of college. While you and Jake had gone to the same university for your doctorate programs, Javy had ventured elsewhere, making a name for himself within the world of entomology. The two together was almost insufferable.

“You two better behave,” you groused, settling into your seat with a glare in his direction.

“Boots,” he gasped, placing a hand over his heart in faux hurt, “I am absolutely shocked that you think we would be anything other than complete professionals.”

“Don’t give me that crap,” you snapped, turning to face Bob who glanced at you two wearily. “Those two are going to be a nightmare, I’m just warning you now.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” he chuckled.

The three of you settled into a comfortable conversation as Bob continued to drive towards the camp, the jungle becoming denser the longer he went. Soon, the sun was hidden behind the canopy, and you got the sense that you were truly in the wild.

“Are you sure about this, Mav,” Ice hummed, hands clasped firmly in front of him as he eyed his fellow researcher. Mav spared him a smile, running a hand through his hair as he sat on the bench opposite his companion.

“He’s been on his own for decades, Ice,” Mav grimaced, glancing into the trees. “He deserves to know companionship beyond just us.”

“He has Bob and Javy.”

“He deserves more than just four other people in his life,” he amended, rolling his eyes. “We’re lucky we found him when we did, otherwise I’m not sure he would have survived on his own. Besides, Nick and Carole wouldn’t have wanted this for him. They would have wanted him to see the world, to meet other people.”

Ice hummed at that. Of course, Maverick had a point. They couldn’t keep the boy isolated for forever. He was already butting heads more and more with the troop leader and spending more nights in the observation tower as a result. It also wasn’t like Ice wanted to keep him isolated for selfish reasons. No, quite the opposite in fact. The kid had spent most of his life right there in the jungle, never having contact with another human being until the two men had opened up the research camp once more ten years before.

And that’s what had Ice so apprehensive. The boy had little to no experience with humans, and what he did have was from the time spent with the two older men who weren’t exactly the greatest of company at the best of times. How would he react to a camp full of people his own age? Would it be too much for him?

“Bradley is smart, Ice,” Mav continued, knocking his knuckles against the table. “He’s already been asking questions about the people in the movies and photos he sees. He wants to know about the outside world. Let’s let him have that chance.”

Ice didn’t answer. Instead, he sighed, leaning back in his chair. This would be good for Bradley. It had to be.

Tag List: @goldenseresinretriever @fanficfandomlove @seresinsbrat @hopip99 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @moon42flight @kmc1989 @rhettsluvr @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @deliriousfangirl61 @nouis-bum @topherwrites @crybaby-21 @linkpk88 @number-0-iz @princessofglitterland @agentorange9595 @pittbull-enthusiast @krispybearbouquet @els-marvelvsp @jupitercomet @maximus890 @eloquentdreamer @seresinslady @piceous21 @wh1skey0n1ce @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @smileybouquet @jessicab1991

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #top gun rooster #rooster top gun

[alisonwritesimagines]

Domestic Life ~Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagine~

Summary: Simon "Ghost" Riley gets a taste of the domestic life with you.

Author’s Note: I hope that they make a Modern Warfare 3 soon. I need more Ghost content. Reader's code name is Lucky by the way and American.

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: mentions of sexual references, some dirty talk,

Part One

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

After your family reunion, Simon had admitted to you that he wanted a domestic future with you. Of course, you said yes and had eloped with your immediate family and your team members as witnesses. Nothing too big but enough to satisfy your parents and yourselves. So once you two were married, you both had gone to trying for a baby. 

No one said that trying for a baby would be either easy or hard. They just said that making the baby was the fun part. However, it felt like eternity before you finally became pregnant with your first child. As much as you and Simon were happy, this meant that you couldn’t go on missions anymore. Luckily, Laswell had a job for you behind a desk so you were still working until you went on maternity leave. 

Then came when you gave birth to a boy. After hours of long, suffering pushing, you gave birth to your first child.

“How are ya feelin?” Soap asked you as you lied in the hospital bed.

“Tired and hungry,” you smiled up at him.

“What’s his name?” Gaz asked.

“Finn Thomas Riley,” Simon told him.

“It just sounded nice with Finn Riley and Thomas after Simon’s brother,” you explained.

“It sounds great,” Soap smiled. 

-

Simon had gone on maternity leave as well a week before Finn’s expected due date. Both you and Simon had been giving Finn your undivided attention as you both were able to live in a peaceful bliss together. 

You lied in bed with Finn on Simon’s chest. You stared at your son, still amazed and in disbelief that you have a son with Simon. After coming home from the hospital, almost everyone you knew wanted to come over to see the baby. Now, it was just you three alone.

“He’s so small compared to you,” you tell Simon as you never took your eyes off of your son.

“Hope he gets your good looks,” Simon said, stroking your hair a little.

“I hope he gets your tough skin.”

Simon hummed in agreement. You smiled up at your husband before leaning up to give him a quick kiss.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

-

After Finn was born, Simon left the mask off when it came to him. He would take the mask off around you but whenever out in public, he had the mask on. But he didn’t want Finn to see that side of him. It was different. 

“Who’s ready for the park?” You sung as you picked up Finn. Finn smiled as he stared at you. 

As much as you wanted to protect your son from the germs and bacteria lurking around the outside world, you felt pretty stuffy in the house and decided to go to the park for once.

“I got his bag and the food,” Simon said as he walked over to you both.

“Do you have the picnic blanket?” You asked.

“Yes.”

“And his blanket in case he gets cold?” 

“I have it all. We’re okay,” Simon assured you before kissing your head.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

The park was luckily empty. Simon placed the picnic blanket under a shaded tree before the three of you sat down on it. 

“Smile, Finn,” you say as you took a picture of your son in your arms.

“This is nice,” you tell Simon.

“Just glad no one is here,” Simon said as he glanced around.

“Simon, relax. We did background checks on the place remember? Plus we’re in a gated community,” you assured your husband.

“Sorry, love. Bad habit,” Simon tells you.

“Plus, mom’s get superpowers when it comes to her children in danger so don’t worry. I’ll become like Scarlet Witch when it comes to Finn and any other children we may have,” you say happily.

“Seeing how you are in the field, I’d pity the person who would try to hurt Finn in front of you.”

"I'd pity the person because they would have to go through us."

-

Of course, the team couldn’t resist coming over to see Finn when they had some spare time. 

“He looks more like you, Lucks,” Gaz told you as he stared at Finn who was in Price’s arms.

“Better have her smarts too,” Simon mentioned as he handed you water.

“I’m sure he will. Don’t want anything from you?” Price asked Simon.

“Already got my last name. Good enough for me,” Simon shrugged.

“I’m hoping he gets his father’s tough skin,” you tell Price.

“If he wants, I can always teach him a thing or two when he’s older,” Soap offered.

“He’s already got Lucky and Ghost as parents. I’m sure the kid is set,” Gaz told Soap.

"Yeah but I can teach him a thing or two still. Right, Lucky?" Soap asked you.

"Of course. Who else will teach our half British baby Scottish gibberish?" You joked.

-

“What do you think of having a girl?” Simon asked one night. He leaned against the doorframe as he looked over at you.

“I think having a girl would be nice. But it’s not really up to me since I have no control over that part,” you tell him. You sat in bed, watching a show that wasn’t Bluey, as Simon had just put Finn to bed. 

“Isn’t it pass the six week mark?” Simon asked you. You looked up at your husband with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d like to let my body heal a little more,” you tell him. You watched as he walked over to the bed and lied down next to you. 

“I’ll be gentle.”

“Mhm. You will wait until I am ready,” you warned.

“Come on, love. You don’t miss my cock pounding into you?” Simon teased as he rubbed your blanket covered thigh.

“You’re not the one pushing a giant baby out of your vagina so you will wait,” you tell Simon before moving his hand away from you.

“Fine. But when you’re ready, I’ll make it worth your while,” Simon teased.

"I'm counting on it."

-

The last day of leave was something Simon dreaded. He didn’t want to leave you and Finn but he knew that someone had to pay the bills. Especially after Simon told you to retire so you both didn’t have to leave Finn. Simon wanted to make sure that if Finn was left with a parent, it would be you. 

“Say bye to daddy, Finn,” you tell your son as Simon held onto him.

Simon didn't want to let go of his son. He didn't even want to leave you. But he knew that in a few more years, he can retire and finally spend time with you and hopefully a bigger family.

“I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can. You have the security codes?” Simon asked you.

“Simon, I’m the one who installed them and created them,” you reminded.

“Right. Maybe we should talk about getting a dog.”

“Bad idea. I’d end up making him my other baby,” you joked.

“I’ll come back as soon as I can,” Simon told you.

“Just be careful. Please.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too. And when you come back, maybe we can work on making baby number two?” You offered. Simon smiled before giving you one last passionate kiss

“I love that idea,” Simon smiled at you.

Bonus:

Two months was too long for both you and Simon. The day Simon came back, he couldn’t believe how big Finn had gotten. He spent the day with his son until your parents came over for dinner.

Once dinner had ended, Simon watched confused as your parents took Finn and his bag with them.

“We’ll see you two on Sunday,” your dad smiled. 

“Thanks for watching Finn,” you tell the two.

“You could always just leave him with us until he’s ten,” your mom joked.

“Just until Sunday,” you reminded her.

“I know. I know.”

Once you and Simon kissed Finn’s cheeks, you closed the door behind your parents. You looked up at Simon before pulling him into a kiss. Your back was pressed against the door as you kissed your husband like you used to do when you both first started dating.

“Now that they’re gone and we have the whole house to ourselves, I expect you to stuff me so full that I become pregnant again and I’m leaking of your cum,” you tell Simon, looking up at him with lustful eyes.

“Don’t need to tell me twice love,” Simon said before quickly picking you up. “Might just have to take you right here. Feel like I can't wait."

“Baby, you got two days of just us alone. Better make the most of it.”

“I intend to.”

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #call of duty #call of duty imagine #call of duty modern warfare #alisonwritesimagines

[xhanelia]

I’ve discovered your blog and it’s single handedly feeding my current valorant obsession, I love your writing so much. With that said, could I please request a some fluffy confession scenes with Sova or possibly Chamber? Thank you so much!

I will abandon this page istg i hate tumblr but this is a request i can write in one go so here i am at 00:43. Lets see when i'll finish it. (Im done and its 03:00)

<<<The reader is another agent in the protocol in this fic. Sova part is GN and Chamber part is female reader. >>>

Hope you like it! And thank you sm!!

Confession headcannons with Sova and Chamber

He is the hollywood star of hiding emotions and pressing them in so no one can tell what he really feels or who is the person he has eyes on. Exept himself ofcourse.

He is not some kind of "i'll built up my emotions inside so i wont hurt anyone" kind of person. He knows he shouldnt hide them too long or it can cause damage. He talks about his problems to Brim like everybody does. But not love, ofcourse.

He thinks that he shouldnt feel like this to a coworker. Not that there isnt any couples in the HQ. There is Raze and KJ and he knows that Brim allows it.

He is probably scared of you rejecting him. If so, there will be a moody aura between whenever you two need to team up for a mission. He cannot allow that. That will effect both of your morals and the performance.

But every second he is not speaking about his feelings is like a torture to him. Like all of his energy is drawn out of him when he returns from a mission or just from trainings.

Spending his day at his room, not practising archery, not having conversations much often, sitting in the plane and looking out of the window while going to a mission rather than giving courage to people is not like him. Something is bothering him. Clearly.

You went to sit next to him. He immediately turned his head to you. "Did something happened?" He asked.

"I should be the one asking you that." You said. He stared at you for a good 15 seconds.

"Lets have this conversation after the mission." He suggested with the pressure of his own feelings. It was getting too much for him to handle. You did not pressed on it. The mission was a short one after all. Everyone did good and went back to the HQ with the same plane.

He immediately regret his choice of words when you stood infront of him when he tried to get out of the plane. He was planning to found an excuse but he didnt had the time to think about that.

"Umm..." he said trying to get some time to think. You lift a brow, implying that you both know why you are in his way.

"Lets talk about it when no one is around, shall we?" He said while bending over you a little.

"There is no one around, Sasha. You took unexpectedly long to leave the plane." You said. You were not letting him escape again.

He sighed. Looking around, really no one was left at the landing field. He grabbed your arm and getting you two both out of the plane. The sky was open and orange with the sunset of the beautiful winter.

He held both of your hands. You could feel the shake of them. It was ironic that the sniper of the protocol's hands was shaking that easily before you.

"You dont have to say anything, its better if we pretend that i said nothing, but..." you tilted your head and frown at the words. "I am in love with you." He says.

He is too scared to look you in the eyes or hear the words that will come out of your mouth so he continues to speak.

"I was too scared that our friendship will never be the same after my confession so i kept this feelings inside but they didnt stop growing. I felt like i was drowning and couldnt hide it anymore. I am sorry if i ruined our friendship and-"

He stopped after hearing your laugh. Did he said something stupid? Was this so childish for him to do? Why were you laughing?

"You were hiding this from me? For how long?" You said. He got confused. "Uhh... for... over 4 or 5 months?" He said, unsure about when he got this crush over you.

"You should have told me from the start silly. I like you too!" As you said, his eyes lit up with the happiness. Holding your hands tighter, he asked. "Really? Are you real? You are not saying that because you dont want me to feel bad, do you?"

With your head shake as a no, he hugs you while both of you laugh with joy. And there goes your first kiss with him. Under the orange sky with the blow of an air like a celebration of the nature for both of you.

Mhm. We all know this man aint hiding nothing. He shall show you and everyone that he has eyes on you so that nobody can steal you from him untill he officialy takes you out.

Yea i feel like he would take you out to an extra expensive restaurant to confess, even the offer itself looks like the confession already.

"Chamber, you really dont have to." You say while hanging the vandal back to its place. Training was over and the french man knew your schedule from head to toe. It was impossible for him to miss any of your free times.

"Please, the randevu was made from weeks ago. Plus, if it isnt going to be you then who is it?" He says while giving you the card of the restaurant. On the card, it was written the place of the restaurant (i will die from this stuffy nose istg i cannot write) with the date and time of the randevu with his fancy handwriting.

You gave a smile to him. Not often you got this kind of... um... take outs? (I forgor the word in english) He was generous to offer you this. Altough it was clear why he did this.

You contact Brim to clear that day but he said that Chamber did it for you. Then you discover that nearly everyone knows about the "take out" that you guys will have.

"O. M. G. You know that he will confess you that night, right?" Jett said while cutting cucumbers to put on her eyes but Phoenix eats them trying not to get caught. The girls night is getting little heavy on you. (Pho is one of the girls idc.)

"Yea, yea, i know. Who doesnt." You said while rolling your eyes. Trying to not pop the conversation much.

"I mean, i didnt got a confession in a fancy restaurant." KJ said while looking at Raze. Who has no idea whats going on.

"Well, im okay if he wants to do it this way but im not sure if i'll fit in that kind of atmosphere. Everyone and everything is so expensive. You know." You said while shaking your shoulders.

"Are you kidding me? That french has his eyes on you. You think he will matter if you fit in or not?" Neon lifts the cucumbers from her eyes and looks at you from the couch. You lift your hands sideways as to tell you dont know.

"We will make you fit." Phoenix says with excitement. "What is the date?" He asks while everyone awaits the answer from you.

Eventually, the date comes. Everyone you gave the date is more excited than you. Preparing your dress, makeup and everything like its a doll dressing game.

When it comes to Chamber, he was ready more than ever. It was like classic Chamber yet so different. He had his 'special occasion suit' on him and a smug smile on his face. He offers you his arm and you take it.

(You go to the restaurant but its getting too late and i need some sleep so imma skip that part.)

"So..." he says while you both sit face to face, eating dinner. He had studied this for over how many times and yet he is still nervous. You turned your look at him and raise a brow.

"We both know why we are here, Vincent. I like you too. You dont have to give me a whole speech." You said. Drinking some of the wine to cover your face and overexcitement.

He laughs at your boldness. "Its open like a book, isnt it?" He looks straight into your eyes. You feel like they could pierce through you. "Thats my girl. Bold and smart as always" He says. "You dont need a brain to see that you have eyes on me." It was your time to laugh.

He looks at you with that stupid smirk on his face. Like he truly fell in love if you. "I love you." He says. Giving up on the talk he had prepared. He felt like it was the only thing he needed to say.

Even if that three words was the only thing he said, they made your heartbeat race up immediately. With a giggle, you hold his hand that is on the table. "I love you." You said. The only thing he said and the only thing he needed to hear from you was the same nontheless.

#valorant #headcanon #sova #sova valorant #valorant sova #sova headcannons #sova x reader #valorant x reader #chamber #chamber valorant #chamber x reader #chamber headcannons

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Intrigued With You

i ii iii iiii

Yandere! Pinocchio x fem! Mechanic! Reader

Warnings: mention of death and injuries, Geppetto’s unhealthy obsession with Pinocchio, mention of the illness going on in the universe of “The Lies of P,”, inaccurate portrayal of the game demo because I am not done with it yet, when the game comes out, this work may be completely different from the actual game.

This blog contains/creates and interacts with dark content, so if you are uncomfortable with that, don’t interact.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the toxic and harmful behaviors/thoughts that take place in this piece of fiction. None of this should be romanticized or considered normal as it is extremely toxic and dangerous.

Dead dove don’t eat.

Minors/ageless blogs that are blank/barely have anything, dni or you will be blocked.

Over all story Summary: Your uncle’s puppet takes a little too much of an interest in you.

Wc: 2169k

--

The first time you saw ‘him’, you almost mistook ‘him’ for a human.

A living, breathing, emotional human, who could laugh and cry and yell. Constantly reminding yourself that it is a puppet, a project that is not done yet, you can’t help but feel uneasy whenever you go to visit your uncle. He loved that puppet, yet there was something sinister about the way he would look at it. Obsessed with it even, the damn thing taking up more of time than his other projects.

Inventions that were only child’s play, usually leaving the rest to the workshop. But this puppet? This puppet is a personal job, and whatever it’s being made for is unknown. But, to you, it feels like he’s making it to be a pseudo son – something he created with his own hands, a blank canvas that, unlike the other ones, was expected to feel things that a puppet shouldn’t feel and think things that it shouldn’t.

It was bad enough that the citizens were relying on the puppets a little bit too much. And it was bad enough that your uncle was fussing over a puppet that didn’t provide any actual use, a replacement for a son he can’t have, yet, at the same time, the puppet also meant nothing to him. Like it could easily be replaced.

You also don’t like the left mechanical arm, or the fact that weapons are being implemented onto every mechanical arm made for that puppet. You don’t like how human it looks, the material not steel nor metal, and looks too realistic to be porcelain. You don’t like how your uncle made the eye color the same as his, a blue grey that’s completely lifeless. You don’t like the carob brown hair, the way it looks so natural, the way it’s messy and has curls. You don’t like how there’s no segments separating the visible limbs, and you pray to God that your uncle didn’t plan on giving it a dick for shit and giggles.

You don’t like the puppet.

You don’t like any the puppets.

Yet, at the age of twenty-two, you had no choice but to work in the field, testing them, repairing them, scraping them if they were considered a ‘failure’. To be there when everything went wrong and a few people were injured or worse, dead.

You hate your parents for shoving you to the field, to your uncle, and you hate your uncle for thanking them. You hate that instead of seeing and working on puppets that look like puppets, you were entrusted with one that looks too human.

And yet, as you stand in front of it in your uncle’s personal little workshop, you still admire the beauty of it. You refuse to touch it. Your only job is to repair any of the mechanical arms that break, to work on the voice box, to repaint the eyes, to fix up the clothes. Your uncle is the one touching, the one experimenting, the one expecting. The one looking forward to its eyes opening someday.

The ‘heart’ lays in your hands, gears visible in the middle, glass covering them. Gold in color with a chain attached. Sometimes it ‘beats’ – you almost dropped it the first time it happened. And sometimes, it feels a little too realistic, if you ever held a heart, like in fiction. Your fingers tremble, fixing the gears as they get stuck again. You ask for more oil.

“Uncle… out of curiosity… have you eaten at all today?” You look out from the corner of your eye, the table in front of you cluttered with numerous parts, some broken, some not. He doesn’t answer, placing an eye into one of the sockets. “Uncle,” you repeat, turning to face him fully, “did you eat today?”

Your voice is louder, and to add more effect, you slam your hand onto the table that’s now behind you. He jolts, startled, and almost drops the eye. He doesn’t mention it. “Ah what?” He cranes his neck to look at you over his shoulder. He heard your voice but not the question.

“Did you eat today? Anything at all? Or even a sip of water?” raking a hand through your hair, you lean against the table, shoulders slumping over. “It’s the third time I asked you – three times too many.”

He laughs, looks away to place the eye in the socket property this time. “Well… not yet, but I was about to say something about it.”

“You’re lying.”

He laughs again, shoulders shaking, and with a sigh, pats the puppet’s hair before turning to you. He grabs his goat disregarded on the stool next to him, fingers adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He smiles but there’s barely any emotion in his eyes. “You caught me once again. Make sure to get your coat – it’s chilly outside.”

The trip to the nearest café was longer than it should be, if you had been paying attention to the actual goal rather than chatting with your uncle’s friends and acquaintances. You just smile and nod, answering any questions they may have about the current trends ‘youngsters are into today,’ bouncing questions about the puppets around. You don’t want to talk about that dreadful job when you’re finally out in the sun, enjoying the cool wind that gently sways your hair, the smell of pastries as your stomach grumbles.

You miss your social, normal life that wasn’t centered around things you both hate and fear.

“- I heard one of the new police models are dysfunctional,” an older woman whispers, shoulders tense. She continues, “but it still works properly with children. Apparently, the children love it – but… I can’t help but feel that it’s just an accident waiting to happen.”

Your uncle stays quiet, gaze on the ground as he mulls over it. So, you’re the one who asks the question, “How is it dysfunctional? Does it break down often? Attack others?” Your heart beats faster with each word, the worst scenarios plaguing your mind. You’re scared to ask the questions, but you needed to know. Needed to fix It if they don’t scrap it.

She takes a pause before answering. “It blows up, sometimes. Or glitches, and just overall, not very good at the job it’s supposed to do. It’s more of a mascot than anything. Such a shame too, it would have been perfect to capture criminals.” She sighs, tension never leaving her body.

It must be one of the larger models.

If that’s the case, then you’re fucked. Big time, because that model was already a risk to handle, let alone make. You barely got The Parade Master to work properly three weeks ago. The number of injuries the employees suffered was not worth the stupid thing. It was too big to handle, and now they want a big cop one? Everyone is going to die if that thing glitches out.

“Oh, but that’s not the only thing going on. It doesn’t involve the puppets, but it’s still… concerning.”

“What is?” Your uncle pipes up, responding now that the subject wasn’t about a puppet with a potential glitch in its system. The woman purses her lips, trying to find the right words to say. Again, she pauses before she whispers in even a quieter voice;

“The illness going around. The one that forms blue bumps and makes people go crazy and blind.” Her face turns pale, fingers messing with the handle of her purse. Everything goes quiet, the three of you staring into space. There’s nothing you could do about that, can’t even get involved, the medical experts doing samples and attempting to treat the ones who have it.

“Well… just keep clean, if possible,” your uncle says.

--

It’s on the third month of working on that puppet when you finally finish the voice box. The voice sound should be youthful, one to match ‘his’ pretty face and slim physique. The puppet is still lifeless, and you still refuse to touch it. You hate being involved with it in any form. You just want to smash it, seeing your uncle’s obsession with it turn into madness. It’s all he can think about, almost all he cares about, his entire world at this point.

He even calls it his son.

It makes you hate the puppet even more.

The voice box is given another polish, fingers sore and worn out, no longer as soft as they should be. Nails with dirt and grim underneath, grease covering your skin, eyes strained – three months of working on this damn thing, and there’s still more to do. More to experiment with, more to spend on, more to worry about, more to lose. You swear to God you just might sell this thing just to get rid of it. Just to make the feeling of unease go away, to forget about its existence completely.

You just want to be done with the thing.

“How’s it going?”

You scream, turning around only to trip over spare parts that fell off the table. A hand reaches out to catch you, but it only results in smashing your head against the floor, and a body landing right on top of you. The air is knocked out of your lungs, and you squirm, kicking and pulling at hair – anything to get whoever this is off you.

You only stop when one hand covers your mouth, the other grabbing both of your wrists. And you only stop resisting completely when you see your ex-boyfriend – Howard. And it is Howard who curses instead of you, gently letting go and getting off once he realizes you’re not going to hurt him anymore. And it is you who stays on the floor, ponytail causing discomfort as you lay your head there, heart finally calming down and hands clasped over your chest. And it is you who lets out the biggest sigh, happy that it's someone who means no harm.

Supposedly.

“Jeeze… while I do like hearing you scream; I’d prefer if it was in ple- “

 “Off, off, off!” you sit up to push him off, Howard landing on his butt with a thud. He scoots to give you room to pull your legs to your chest, pants now covered in even more grime and grease. You’re going to kill him. You really will.

“Howard.”

“(name).”

You stare at each other, the silence deafening. The breakup was messy at best, lost feelings, and a bittersweet love. You’re not sure why you kept in touch, or why he didn’t tell his parents about the ordeal, while yours were unaware you were even in a relationship to begin with. You’re not sure why he still ‘loved’ you enough to try and try again.

You don’t know why he’s here.

As if he’s reading your thoughts, he provides an answer. “Your uncle told me to check up on you.”

“Ah.”

He stares at you as you stare at your feet. With a sigh, he pushes himself up, extending his arm to you, hand ready to take yours. You don’t take it.

You push yourself off before dusting off your pants.

“I wonder why he would do that… ah, it doesn’t really matter,” you ignore the way his eyes follow you. The voice box is once again in your hands, and for the fifth time today, you polish it. Watch the way it gleams under the harsh light, the way it trembles alongside your hands. The puppet sits in a plush red chair, eyes, mouth close, and limbs limp. It still looks more human than puppet.

Howard doesn’t comment on your trembling hands, instead taking interest in the puppet. He walks towards it, extending a hand out only to draw it back. Your uncle would kill him – you were the only one with permission to touch any of your uncle’s work in progress. It’s still not done yet, still needs work, still needs to be ‘perfect’. It seems you’re not the only one unnerved by the puppet.

“Creepy… it’s amazing how he managed to make it so human-like…” he tilts his head, taking in every detail. From the brown freckles to the way its fingernails look trimmed. “What kind of material did he use for the skin? There are no segments to separate the fingers or even the neck, and it looks too realistic.”

“I’m not sure. He hasn’t told me.”

“Yet?”

“He doesn’t plan on telling me,” Is all you say before playing the voice box down. Down goes your ponytail, fingers rubbing at your sore scalp. Everything hurts, from your head to your feet, hands sore and slightly shaky. You want to go home. You’re not sure how much longer you can keep going with this job. The puppets scare and worry you too much for your mind to stay sane.

Howard hums in acknowledgment, turning away from the puppet to look at you, a crooked smile on his face.

“Want to go get lunch?”

#yandere lies of p #lies of p x reader #lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #yandere x reader #yandere pinocchio #pinocchio x reader

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

How much they wanted to see each other?

Another people had made analysis, but I honestly couldn't help myself but to examine another scene, because I need to squeal at this.

While the beginning clue us in how much they miss each other (which wow, I knew Miles was crushing on Gwen since the first movie, but Gwen doesn't get behind AT ALL.) When they reunite, is very interesting.

Leaving aside that a lot of stuff changed from the teaser (because WOW, they really went and say "put the teenage crush up to 11" to both of them,) we really are sold in how much Miles is crushing on her, both from the drawings (in the notebook and the Walls, she was the first drawing and she appears the most,) and the last movie.

Gwen in contrast, comes a lot more subtle not just because Miles cannot hide his emotions for the life of him; while Gwen has issues controlling her anger, or had before, you can see that in general closes off about her feelings, and tries to not talk too much about it. In other words, she has a tendency to hide, and it is reflected on the screen.

Just as much as is shows that when she cares she can't help herself.

First When she appears, she tries to act as if is not a big deal. She is just opening a hole to create an entrance from another dimension, no biggie.

Miles barely had time to recollect himself (a lot more coherent if it was me that's for sure.) But again, I think that is to be expected.

What I like is what Gwen is doing.

The first thing she does is try to appear casual, looking around to anything in the room before him.

But the second she looks at him (and I mean SECOND, I was trying to get a decent screenshot but is hard.) she hugs him.

(We will take a moment to appreciate Miles being so out of left field he is just frozen.)

I also like to note that Gwen is probably a very physically affectionate person, or at least, someone who likes being physically affectionate with the people important to her.

We can see it with her dad in how even when things with him are tense, she doesn't hesitate to hug him because despite everything, she loves her dad.

And with the spider society being well, the spider society (That's a topic for another day and maybe not this blog,) she probably doesn't have a lot of affection these days, which makes sense go to Miles since well, she REALLY has miss him.

But I don't think she agrees with that.

Hey, remember how I was talking about how cool and collected Gwen seems at first, just to be betrayed by her own emotions because she cannot help it? This is happens often and I love it.

I think this is a good time as any as to talk about something that the movie could had done, and I am SO glad that they didn't.

Part of the reason I was lukewarm to this ship in the first movie, is that it was doing partially the very tired trope of "Dorky protagonist has a hopeless crush in the badass female co-lead and despite finding him annoying at first, they end up together."

Luckily it doesn't actually immerse into that trope and Miles has more personality than most of those archetypes; but being a super hero movie, I was kind of tired of this, and while I think Miles crush on Gwen was cute in the first movie, I didn't think they would turn around.

When the teaser dropped, I was afraid it was going to just dive in that route.

And yet, this movie does the interesting thing, by having Gwen actually lose the cool mask sometimes.

Because yes, Gwen is cool, she is awesome. She is badass and she can still, probably defeat Miles if she really wanted to; she has been a spider for longer than him so that makes sense.

However, even if she is all those things, she is still a teen, with a crush, and even her coolness cannot stop the fact that she probably doesn't know how to do this either.

I love how as much as Gwen wants to act cool, she still slips up because she probably thinks she made Miles uncomfortable by hugging him like that (he was just a slow to react, yet that would be my read if I was her.) And also because again, she knows she needs to take it easy.

I found funny how she just realizes this is his room, despite technically she giving it "a look" when she came in. Like I say, she was just trying to contain herself.

Miles being nervous about looking like a kid (valid fear considering one of the last things Gwen said to him was how she was 15 months older than him.) is normal and cute.

While I don't doubt Gwen teased Miles a little, and I still don't know what to say about the ripping scene; she sounds a lot more relaxed about the fact that one may think. I had people react badly to my fandom stuff that is often perceived as childish; so while Gwen still shouldn't had done that, it wasn't bad in my eyes.

Now let's talk about one of the favourite scenes for us shippers.

When she sees the drawings, I think she sounds a tad shocked and confuse, which is normal all things consider. What is important for me is Gwen's reaction.

THIS isn't the face of someone uncomfortable with that information.

Listen, I am not trying to shoot my own horn or anything, but when I was younger, I had people confess to me, from private to in a very public manner; and it can be extremely uncomfortable and awkward.

I had needed to find a way to keep my face neutral, and man isn't easy.

But Gwen doesn't look like she is trying to pretend everything is fine, she looks actually fine with this information.

She literally found out her friend has a stupid amount of drawings of her, imagine someone you know and who you don't have interest doing that to you.

There is no way she will be this chirpy about those drawings if she wasn't a bit happy about it.

Which is part of the reason I love this sequence, because Gwen knew Miles's crush on her from before, but it has been over a year, and you don't know how much it can change. So her initial insecurity makes sense.

And it only takes her less than 5 minutes to confirm that nope, he is still head over heels for her.

And I think getting her cool back and how she reels him in her direction show that.

Also, look at this face.

This is exactly why everyone clock's Miles feelings in 0.5 seconds, it never stops shining.

However, as much as his feelings shine through, Gwen doesn't stop showing them back constantly, as discretely as she can.

#ghostflower #gwiles #gwen stacy #miles morales #atsv spoilers #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse spoilers #atvs #spiderman #spiderwoman #analysis #ghostflower files

[gatitties]

Hello! I have an imagine or idea rather than a request, and I love the way you write y/n in your blog because your y/n is much more relatable yk. Like more of a realist instead of an idealist. I'm talking about tokrev y/n because that's the only fandom in this blog I'm familiar with :)

Tokrev imagine, Bonten realizing that fem!bonten!reader doesn't age at ALL:

Don't you know that some people who look older than their age is known to keep the same face when they're older? Imagine that when you're in Kanto Manji like most of the Bonten executives except Takeomi people mistake you for being older than your age. Now that you're in Bonten and you grow older, your face DOESN'T CHANGE at all when it's obvious that your male colleagues are aging. Like their faces getting sharper and the worst thing? HAIR LOSS. Especially that you chose to dress more casually than your formal looking colleagues so people thought that you're younger than them. I can honestly see envy from Ran.

─Bonten x fem!reader

─Summary: Your face always made people add years to your age, but now it seems like you're stuck in eternal youth for that very reason.

─Warnings: none

Oh ty!, I'm glad you identify with the y/n I write, although I don't think they're that realistic either 😔✋🏻 (this was fun to write btw)

─ You come from a small town on the outskirts of Tokyo, you have innate brute strength from working in the fields with your family, which also made you have a little harder features and your skin aged a little more.

─ Everyone always added years to your true age, so you weren't too upset when your new group of friends (Kanto Manji) thought you were older.

─ Once you corrected their thoughts about your age, they didn't stop coming and going with jokes, they would always look at them with a frown, although it was only for annoy you, they also told you that if you continued frowning your age would increase and you would look like an old witch being so young.

─ Instead you made fun of their baby faces, especially Mikey, Rin and Kokonoi, being the ones who seemed smaller to your eyes.

─ Hanma will always take advantage of the moment to call you old or ruin a date, confusing the person you're with about your age.

─ Ran will joke that you are a milf.

─ Shion, Sanzu and Mochizuki won't mess with you much, but they will always make a sarcastic comment against you if the situation gives them the opportunity to do so.

─ Oh but the wait was pleasant, as the years went by, your face hardly changed, however, you couldn't say the same about the boys, while some left and others joined when creating Bonten, they all grew older.

─ Of course joking about age with Takeomi was too easy considering that in fact, he was the oldest of all, so you kept him out of your sarcasm.

─ However, you enjoyed seeing the Hatani brothers' angry faces when you got many more dates than them in their own brothels.

─ It was as if you had not aged, you remained fresh as a rose while they used hair dye to cover some premature gray hair.

─ Your jokes about bald people have no end when it comes to Sanzu and Mikey because of the amount of dye they use, the Haitani are not immune to your sarcasm either.

─ The only ones that hold up better are Kakucho and Kokonoi, so for the moment you don't mess with them much, just wait a couple of years…

─ You are not spiteful, but returning the jokes that were made to you years ago is gratifying!

─ Say hello and smile like a lady when you hold your partner's hand while they watch from afar, rubbing it in their faces that they can't get hoes.

─ Rin was so worried about the wrinkles that began to appear on his face that one night he broke into your house to ask you for skincare routine advice.

─ Overnight you became a beautician for a group of gangsters, not all of them were interested in taking care of their skin, but at the moment there was nothing better to do.

─ The wars over youth and old age ended in a truce of tutorials on how to soften the face, care for and maintain glowing skin, recommend many hair products and share advice they see online from trusted influencers.

─ Although now a new fight began about who had the best routine and a bet on who would last best until you were sixty, you didn't want to ruin their morale, but you were a clear winner.

#tr #tokyo revengers #request #reader insert #fem reader #bonten!reader #bonten x reader #bonten x fem reader #sfw #headcanons #tokyo revengers headcanons

[tanmono]

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN MAIN ROUTE....

CHAPTER SIX, HIS SIDE STORY.

I want to possess the little rabbit.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

minors and ageless blogs dni.

I wonder when it started.

When I see a dead body, I no longer feel the pain in my heart.

(You did it well.)

The place where I stepped into with little rabbit in my arms was a cruel sight.

We were greeted by a scent of blood that sweet, fragrant roses could not disguise.

The petals that fall to the ground are invaded by the spreading reddish-black liquid.

In the center stood a cruel and merciless beast with its white cloak stained red —

I could feel little rabbit trembling in my arms.

(…. Yes. The prince you believe in is a powerful man after all.)

(You can kill people with impunity and not be charged with a crime, just like me.)

(...That being said, it's "dirtier" than expected.)

Little rabbit is covering her mouth with a paled face.

I felt a nostalgia at the sight of this — when I first started out like this too.

Gilbert: How are you feeling, little rabbit?

Emma: …..I’m….fine….

Gilbert: Really? Well, it's not something to force yourself to see. It's dirty. Let's not go near it.

(The more you think of others as your own, the bigger the reaction.)

(…. Well, I knew that, and I brought you here.)

While smiling secretly at the trembling little rabbit, a familiar face appeared from the shadows of the pavilion.

Clavis: Well well, Lord Gilbert. You are a little too much of a bully, aren't you?

Clavis: To think you’ve brought yourself to a place like this.

Gilbert: Haha, I only brought her here because she said she was looking for Chevalier.

Clavis: Well, how did you know my brother was here?

Gilbert: I saw Chevalier a while ago.

It was not a lie.

The reason I left little bunny this morning was to "check a certain place," and it had nothing to do with the current situation, but it was a good thing I did.

When I returned to the court, Chevalier went out into the garden by mistake.

Since I have every person's movements in my head, I can easily predict what will happen next....

Not to let this opportunity slip away, I hurriedly secured little bunny and here we are.

(Clavis is obviously suspicious of me. I'm sure he thinks I'm the one who put this whole thing together.)

However, this does not mean that we are missing the point.

There are many who have hostile feelings toward Chevalier, and if you mislead them with just a few words, they will quickly take short-cuts like this.

(Hiring an assassin and having them attack him easily is a stupid way of doing things….)

(And the "anti-monarchy" is not professional in that field, so I guess it's inevitable.)

I planned to sow the seeds, and when one of them sprouted and bloomed, I wanted to show it to little rabbit someday.

In that sense, it will be as good as "planted".

Without uttering a single word, Chevalier wipes off the blood and sheaths his sword.

For him, it's an everyday occurrence.

Gilbert: Chevalier, little rabbit wanted to see you.

Chevalier:…….

His icy blue eyes, which have lost their temperature, are now focusing on her.

Emma: ....You seem to be busy, so I'll come back another day.

Chevalier:………

Chevalier turned away and left without saying anything.

(Well, what will little rabbit do after this?)

(Knowing that he has a cruel and ruthless side, will you try to approach him or avoid him?)

(Will you continue to believe in people's goodness like I used to, or will you fall into distrust?)

I am looking forward to seeing the choices that you have made.

Clavis: I have to apologize for showing the lady what she shouldn't have seen, Cyril.

Clavis beckons one of the knights who was handling the corpse.

The flamboyant red-haired knight was a former soldier from Obsidian's military training facility.

(I haven't seen you in a while, but I'm glad to see you're doing so well.)

Clavis: It's almost time for dinner. Prepare a feast for Lord Gilbert.

Gilbert: No way, are you going to separate me from little rabbit?

Clavis: Yes. You're too much of a distraction, or perhaps too much of an overwhelming presence to comfort the broken-hearted young lady.

Clavis: The young lady would be more than happy to be alone with me, wouldn't she?

Gilbert: That’s not true, if she got separated from me, she’ll be so lonely that she might cry.

Emma: I won’t be lonely, so it's okay.

Gilbert: Do you know the term "night drunk"?

Emma: .....I'm afraid Prince Gilbert might not like it better if I say something that is not from the heart.

Gilbert: Hehe, correct. You are smart.

(While some people never learn, little rabbit is honest and good.)

Gilbert: Oh well. I don't know what kind of evil things Clavis is up to, but I'm starving.

(…..Well, he’s a gentleman, so I am pretty sure he's going to take care of little rabbit.)

(It's not something I could do, so I'll just leave it to him here.)

Gilbert: I'll spend my spare time tormenting your knight and return to little rabbit as soon as possible, okay?

Cyril:..... Goodbye, my peace.

Just before I put little rabbit down on the ground, I put a malicious look on my face to show my displeasure for choosing Clavis over me.

Gilbert: Be careful not to let Clavis bully you.

Gilbert: He's even more dangerous than I am, you know?

(In many ways.)

The little rabbit’s expression makes sense and which made me laugh.

Perhaps she took this warning seriously.

(No, I'm being serious.)

(From now on it's probably manual labor. I can guess that’s the way Clavis comforts people.)

(Hang in there, little rabbit.)

Cyril: I don't understand you, Prince Gilbert.

Cyril, who was leading the way to the dining room after parting with little rabbit spoke up.

Gilbert: Oh, you mean what I'm thinking right now? Of course, it's about the next evil plan.

Gilbert: I'm going to fall into a trap after this, so maybe I should get an invitation to an evening party in exchange for that….

Gilbert: I’m also just wondering how to kill that noblewoman who injured little rabbit's leg.

Cyril:...... Please don't cause any problems.

Gilbert: Aha, you say useless things, don't you?

Cyril: Or rather... I want to know what Prince Gilbert's purpose is.

(I know.)

The capable ex-military knows how disgusting the Obsidian royal family is.

It is natural to be wary of unreadable malice.

(I have only one goal, and that's to get little rabbit.)

Not literally.

(I want to defile and corrupt her pure and clean heart and "make her sympathize with me.")

(No..... If she came straight to me without empathy, that's fine.)

(I want to isolate her in a vicious way and then see what choices she makes.)

I "want" in that sense, but it is not something I would say to a knight of an enemy country.

Gilbert: I'm not going to tell a traitor anything.

Cyril:….Right.

Gilbert: Hehe….

(I can't wait to get my hands on the little rabbit.)

 ▸       [  previous / next ]

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen ouji #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikemen gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird

[use-your-telescope]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 11: Where I'm Hidden Away

Summary: The mission went well, so why is Theo in such a bad mood? Loki’s determined to find out. 

Author's Notes: OH SURPRISE EARLY CHAPTER DROP! I had every intention of posting a different chapter that’s already finished, but the more I thought about the order of things, I felt like this chapter should come first. 

If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog and reblogs really help me out <3

Content Warnings: Short descriptions of nausea/migraines? Nothing explicit, though. 

Word Count: 7,406

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Just What to Say (feat. Chrissy Costanza) - Dashboard Confessional

I went through this door For no other reason than it wasn't open And sometimes I'm foolish Enough to believe encouraging things But most times I'm cautiously less optimistic A face in the crowd, I wish to be found I worry so often for those who escape I wonder out loud, I sleep at odd hours And I write 'cause I never know just what to say

Theo should have been relieved that the mission went well; hell, she should have been ready to celebrate. 

She was one of six Avengers sent into the field to deal with a batch of bad actors who were somehow connected to the damned beasts who got her into this mess in the first place. Not only did they effectively wipe the floor with the beasts, but they acquired additional intel that would likely prove to be highly valuable in the weeks to come.

However, a week of constantly remaining at attention, heavy reliance on magic, and anxiety turned up to one hundred left Theo absolutely drained. Exhaustion pulsed through her veins. The throbbing between her temples certainly didn’t help, nor did the aches that rolled through her body with every bump of turbulence. It was safe to assume she had pushed herself a bit too hard - really, she’d toed the line of over-exerting her magic for weeks - but the lack of sleep and cortisol overload absolutely made her feel a hundred times worse.

Any sense of time was long gone. Jet lag had a way of flipping everything on its head, and the navy sky as they descended into New York had Theo convinced it was well past an hour when anyone would be awake, which gave her hope that she could succumb the siren song of a quick shower before collapsing into bed and hiding away for a day or two to recoup. 

The last thing she expected to see at the descent of the jet’s ramp were all the team members who stayed back, looking far too awake for it to be the middle of the night.

Damnit.

Theo rolled her shoulders and drew in a deep breath before rising to her feet. Static clouded her vision, as the floor tilted beneath her; she paused, blinked the static from her vision and grit her teeth before dragging herself from the jet, only to be met by Wanda bounding forward. “How was it?”

“Asking me how a mission went is like asking how a root canal was.” Theo dryly replied, doing her best not to grimace at the extra painful throb that shot through her skull. “Even if everything goes perfectly, it’s not like I enjoyed it.”

Wanda faltered, frowning at Theo. Guilt tugged at Theo’s chest - there was no reason to snap at Wanda. Then again Wanda knew that Theo wasn’t the kind of person who enjoyed field work.

“The early missions are always hard, but they do get easier.” Wanda sympathized, turning to walk alongside Theo. “We’re doing a movie night tonight - shower up and come join! It’ll help take your mind off things.” 

Under better circumstances, Theo would have happily agreed to join. After all, ever since ‘family time,’ she had spent most of her free time hanging out with the other Avengers; just as Loki promised, they accepted her presence with open arms. But when she was on the verge of a migraine and beyond exhausted, the last thing she wanted was to be around anyone else. The only things that sounded remotely pleasant were a silent, dark room and her bed.

Though Theo did not admit it aloud, her lack of desire to watch a movie must have been written all over her face, because Wanda silently raised both brows at Theo and cocked her head slightly, as if daring her to say no.

Was Wanda aware of Theo’s promise to Loki?

“Fine.” Theo huffed, adjusting her bag on her shoulder - for whatever reason her skin felt especially sensitive, and the strap of her bag digging into her flesh exacerbated the feeling. The change offered little relief, instead irritating a new patch of skin while making her arm ache. “Just give me a chance to shower and unpack, okay?”

And take some Aleve… Not that she needed to tell Wanda that.

Maybe Wanda sensed that Theo wasn’t in the best mood, because with a tight smile and a gentle squeeze of Theo’s bicep, Wanda split away to talk to Vision.

Theo was the first to the elevators, not wasting a moment before pressing the buttons for her floor.

“If your response was any indication, I suspect you are less than keen to partake in the evening’s activity.”

Theo jumped at the voice and whipped around; every inch of her body protested from the sudden motion. She winced, immediately reaching up to massage her temples while leaning against the wall. 

Loki stood before her, arms crossed over his chest as he gave her a once-over. His black joggers and thick socks were exactly the sort of attire Theo would expect him to wear for a movie night, though he paired it with a soft, crew neck sweater that on anyone else would have appeared strange in such a combination. On him, however, it looked right at home.  

“Have you been following me this whole time?” Theo managed between gritted teeth as her head continued to throb.

“Perhaps.” Before Theo could protest, Loki had slipped her go-bag from her shoulder and hoisted it over his own. He offered her a sheepish, almost apologetic smile. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?” The question was punctuated with the chime of the elevator’s arrival. They both stepped inside. 

“You seem unusually tense for a mission that by all reports, went well.” Loki kept his attention on the doors as they closed and the elevator began its ascent.

“Nothing happened.” Theo rolled her eyes. “And I’m not tense. I’m tired.” 

“Simply tired?” Loki countered, “You seem rather… unwell.” 

Great, just what Theo needed - the Avengers to think she was a wimp because she came back from a mission feeling like crap.

“Tired, and a bit sore. It’s not a big deal.” 

It wasn’t a lie, so at least Loki couldn’t call her out on lying. But it wasn’t the full story, and the way his brows drew together told Theo that he wasn’t falling for her half-truths.

“I see.” 

Silence fell between the pair, heavy and ripe with trepidation, only intensifying as they drew near Theo’s suite. Loki kept glancing at Theo as if he wanted to say something, but Theo kept her attention focused on the ground in front of her. 

“I understand you are tired, but you should strongly consider attending.”

“I already told Wanda I would,” Theo muttered as she reached for her bag, which held the key to her suite. Just before she could grab one of the bag’s straps, Loki lifted the bag beyond her reach.

“You’re withholding something.” He said, dangling the bag in front of Theo like a carrot on a stick.

Theo groaned. “Who cares?” 

“I do.” Loki answered as if it were painfully obvious. “If you are injured, you ought to seek care.”

“I’m not injured, okay?” Theo snapped, jumping up to try and grab the bag that Loki held just beyond her reach. “I’m tired and you aren’t helping–”

Theo landed wrong, her ankle rolling and giving out from beneath her. Just as she braced herself to hit the floor, Loki swooped in and caught her.

“Are you certain?” The faintest hint of a smirk flickered on Loki’s face, though he looked apologetic about the slip. But apparently he wasn't sorry enough to just give her the damn bag, because he still held it beyond her reach.

“Well if you keep making me jump for my bag, I might end up injured,” Theo grumbled. She gave up on the attempt to grab her keys, instead using magic to unlock her door. The throb that shot through her skull confirmed that yes, she had been leaning a bit too much on magic over the last week, but that wasn’t surprising. She ignored it, pushed the door open and took a tentative step forward, carefully bearing weight on her ankle as she determined if she actually hurt herself.

Luckily, her ankle gave no signs of lingering discomfort. She let out a quick sigh of relief.

Theo spun back to Loki and held out her hand. “My bag?”

Loki lowered it down, allowing Theo to grab one strap; however, he refused to let go. “You’ll join?”

What was such a big deal that Loki insisted she watch a movie with them? It was a movie, not the fucking Cannes Film Festival.

“God, yes –” she groaned, rolling her eyes as she tugged on the strap. “I already said I would join!”

“Good; I look forward to it.” With a wink, Loki released his hold on the bag. He bowed to Theo, spun on his heel, and departed.

What the hell was up with him?

It didn’t matter - if Theo had any hope of making it through a movie night without a full-blown migraine, first thing was first: Aleve and a shower.

Thirty minutes later, Theo dragged herself from her suite to the living room. Clad in leggings, an oversized sweater, and fuzzy socks, she wrapped the blanket that usually lived the back of her couch around her shoulders for extra warmth. A persistent, insidious chill haunted Theo from the moment she emerged from the shower, so it was all she could do to prevent her teeth from chattering. Her damp hair certainly didn’t help things - given her magic had already been pushed to its limits, she had to skip using magic to dry her hair and settle for braiding it back on her own (which, with the stiffness of her fingers, brought its own kind of misery). 

At least the heat from the shower helped with Theo’s sore muscles. Sadly, The Aleve did nothing to help her head, so she braced herself to spend the whole night grumpier than hell as every noise and flash of light stabbed into her skull.

Almost everyone seemed to be caught up in some sort of side conversation when Theo stepped into the living room. Almost every seat was accounted for, except for one seat beside Loki. It wasn’t surprising - everyone had a regular seat that they gravitated towards, and during the other evenings that Theo hung out in the living room, she inevitably ended up in the spot beside Loki. 

Without greeting anyone, Theo went straight to the vacancy. She unwrapped the blanket from her shoulders, settled into the corner of the couch, and snuggled up beneath the thick, fluffy throw. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying her best to relax despite feeling like actual garbage. 

Next to her, Loki leaned forward and retrieved a small glass of amber liquid from the table. With a sheepish, almost apologetic smile, he offered it to Theo. “I thought this might help you unwind.” 

Though the scowl didn’t drop from her face, she accepted the drink, taking a swallow and mumbling a thank-you.

“Are you feeling any better now that you’ve had a moment to yourself?” Loki inquired.

“Absolutely fucking peachy.” she grumbled as she shot Loki a dirty look.  

Sure, Theo knew that he was trying to be nice; however, any sound made her headache worse, and she had no desire to talk to anyone. Besides, the larger group had only just started the long and arduous process trying to decide on what to watch, which meant they had to endure an obscene amount of petty bickering before the movie could even begin.

Loki’s eyes shot wide, like he assumed Theo’s mood would completely reverse just by taking a shower. Or maybe he was surprised that she couldn’t be bothered to hide her displeasure, given she hadn’t been quite so tetchy with Wanda. 

“I will take that as a no.” He reluctantly nodded, returning his attention to the larger group.

Notes of smoke and caramel coated Theo’s tongue, the whiskey creating a not unpleasant burn in her throat with each sip. Her stomach, however, was not a fan - the general queasiness that came from overdoing it on magic grew with every swallow of liquor. Yet the nausea didn’t deter Theo, as she had no interest in letting the others know that she felt like shit. After all, if she couldn’t handle a simple mission, what good was she?

Despite the squabbling of her teammates, Theo felt herself fading fast. Now that her blanket retained some heat, it was easy to curl up and melt into the couch cushions. She barely even noticed when they picked out a movie, much less that it was Beauty and the Beast. 

The near-slip of her glass from Theo’s fingers jolted her awake; not wanting to risk a repeat and potentially spill her drink (which would absolutely attract attention), Theo ignored the protests of her stomach and downed the remaining whiskey from the glass. She quickly, yet casually leaned forward to set it on the table; a brief touch of cool air infiltrated her blanket nest, giving Theo the chills once more. With a quiet groan to herself, Theo buried herself under her blanket and prayed that her stomach wouldn’t revolt. 

While the opening sequence of the movie flashed across the television screen, one thought repeated itself in Theo’s mind: this was going to be a long night.

My friends all believe me When I say I'm busy with pretty big things I cancel most plans I hurt someone's feelings I feel like I'm starting And just when I'm starting, I'm starting to stray And every day, I take a white page And try very hard to know just what to say

It had been quite some time since Loki had been subjected to Theo’s thorns; however, on that evening it was as if she sharpened them just for him.

From the moment the quinjet touched down, Theo’s usually wry, humorous demeanor was nowhere to be seen. All six Avengers emerged from the jet covered in filth, with shoulders sagging and bags beneath their eyes, yet only Theo wore a scowl and a glare that cut like a knife; the others casually chatted, laughing and joking as they greeted the Avengers who remained in New York. The brief exchange between Theo and Maximoff, though not cruel, certainly carried a certain edge to it.  

Curiosity, and perhaps a bit of concern, led Loki to investigate the cause of Theo’s displeasure.

His initial attempt to ask Theo about her sour mood was, at best, a partial success. Though Theo simply claimed fatigue, when Loki accused her of withholding information she attempted to deflect instead of deny the accusation. Irritating the already irascible sorceress had not been Loki’s intention, nor had he intended to cause Theo to fall and potentially injure herself, however the exchange had, at least, given him some clues. 

Still, Loki’s remorse led him to prepare Theo’s preferred beverage for her, as a peace-offering of sorts. It was not until he passed her the glass that he noticed her bloodshot eyes, the deep indigo bruise along her cheekbone, and the almost ghostly pallor of her usually pale complexion. 

How had he missed those details before?

On any other occasion, he would have expected Theo to partake in the chaotic, spirited debate over what film to watch; after all, from what Loki knew of Theo, she loved to stir up some lively discussion. Yet, the woman beside him remained silent. At first, her attention followed whoever spoke as she silently sipped her beverage; however, as the debate carried on, she stopped following along. Her eyes sort-of glazed over, lids drooping as she sank into the cushions of the sofa. Her hold on her beverage loosened, the glass slowly sliding from her hand as she seemed to fall asleep.

Just before the glass slipped from her fingers, she shot upright and peered around with a rather mortified expression, checking to see if anyone caught her. After a moment, when she concluded that no one noticed, she drew in a deep breath, downed the entire beverage, then returned the glass to the table, all the while wearing a rather blatant grimace. The slightest tremble of Theo’s arms as she drew her blanket around herself caught Loki’s attention, as if she felt a bit chilled.

By that point in the evening, Loki concluded that Theo had been partially truthful: fatigue certainly contributed to her prickly mood. Still, he wished to know what else bothered her to the extent that it elicited such behavior. 

The answer would have to wait, however - the others had finally decided on and started the film. Silently, Loki let out a sigh of relief when familiar images appeared on the screen. Of the many films which Loki had been subjected to over his time on Midgard, he had to admit Beauty and the Beast was one of the more tolerable selections.

Slightly wheezing breaths and the hint of a snore - loud enough for Loki to hear, but far too quiet to draw the attention of the larger group, drew Loki’s attention back to Theo. She somehow fell asleep sitting up, with her head leaning awkwardly to one side and mouth barely open. Her blanket somehow slipped off one shoulder, fleece material pooling in her lap. The faintest crease between her brows lingered, as if her displeasure followed her into her sleep.

For a brief moment, Loki considered waking Theo so that she might adjust into a more comfortable position. If she remained in her current position, she undoubtedly would wake with a sore neck. 

Given her previous mood, though, Loki decided it might be better to simply leave her be. Besides, she would not be the first Avenger to doze off during a movie night.

About ten minutes after Loki noticed the sounds of almost-snores, Theo’s fingers started to twitch, drawing Loki’s attention back towards her. Her face pinched and twisted, while her breath picked up its pace. After another minute or so, she shrugged as though trying to shove someone off. The movement caused her blanket to slip down so it no longer covered her torso. The momentum threw her off balance; she slumped towards Loki, but still, she did not wake.

A strained whimper, barely audible over the film, escaped her, then a second. 

Theo was having a nightmare.

If Loki were in her position, he knew he would want to be awoken before he attracted attention. The risk of angering her by waking her was worth the benefits of preventing her from coming undone in front of everyone. 

Loki braced himself for a verbal lashing before he gently shook Theo’s shoulder and murmured her name. 

Theo startled awake. Panic briefly flashed across her face, her wide eyes skittering about the room as her chest heaved with each breath. Finally she looked at Loki, still appearing rather disoriented as the film ran in the background. 

Even with her previously sour mood, the sight of her was almost endearing.

“I didn’t wish to wake you,” Loki whispered, “however it seemed as if you were having a nightmare.”

Theo narrowed her eyes at him, still looking a bit dazed; after a moment, she broke eye contact, then busied herself fixing her blanket. In the dim light cast by the television, Theo’s hands trembled as she smoothed out the fabric. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on her brow.

Whatever haunted her dreams must have truly given her a fright. 

“You’re shaking like a leaf.” Offering Theo what he hoped was a gentle smile, he ducked to try and catch her gaze. “Are you alright?”

Theo didn’t reply, but continued to glower at him beneath heavy lashes. 

“Yes, yes, I know, you’re cross with me,” Loki muttered and rolled his eyes. He leaned back, draping one arm across the back of the sofa as he settled in. “Very well. I will leave you be, if that is what you wish.”

Just when Loki was about to return his attention to the film, Theo slowly uncurled herself and shuffled a bit closer to Loki - close enough that he could easily wrap one arm around her shoulders if he wanted. She tucked her feet beneath her and curled up in the blanket once more, then leaned a bit closer so her temple lightly pressed against Loki’s shoulder. 

The gesture seemed like the sort of thing one might do if they couldn’t muster up an apology, but wanted the benefit of the other person’s support.

Something deep within Loki considered pulling away with a sharp rebuke; after all, Theo had been less than polite throughout the evening, treating his concern with disdain. A younger Loki wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Yet with time came wisdom, and Loki recognized that he himself had behaved in a similar manner in the past, when he needed something but wasn’t willing to admit it, and he recognized Theo was not exactly herself at that moment. So, instead, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and traced his finger tips along her bicep, a gesture which Frigga used many times to calm a younger Loki’s racing thoughts. 

Tension practically oozed from Theo’s body. At first, Loki wondered if he pushed too far, and if Theo only agreed to placate him, despite her own discomfort. But, as time passed, she relaxed, even leaning in so she pressed more firmly against Loki’s side. Her eyes slowly fluttered shut, head bobbing forward as she dozed off again.

All the while, Loki continued his ministrations, smiling to himself as he felt the tension leaving Theo’s muscles. For someone who was not renowned for his ability to soothe others, for once he was surprisingly successful. 

Yet, a few moments after her head bobbed forward, Theo blinked her eyes back open and sat up a bit. She took a deep breath, scrubbing her face with one hand in an attempt to stay awake. 

Meanwhile, the others sang along to “Be Our Guest,” too entertained to notice the interaction on the sofa. 

It occurred to Loki that Theo must have been exhausted if she could doze off amidst what had turned into a rather rambunctious sing-along session; yet for some unknown reason, she refused to fall asleep. Perhaps she mistook Loki’s remark about waking her as pressure to remain awake, or maybe she did not wish to have another nightmare. Regardless, the cycle of almost falling asleep repeated itself, though Theo’s eyes remained closed for longer with each reiteration of the cycle.  

After the fourth time Theo sat up and scrubbed her face, Loki could no longer sit idly by and watch her struggle to stay awake. She needed the rest. Though Loki suspected that directly telling Theo to rest would not go over well, he could certainly encourage her to settle into a comfortable position that might facilitate slumber. 

“You seem uncomfortable,” Loki pulled Theo a bit closer as he whispered in her ear. “You may rest your head on my shoulder if you wish.”

Theo tilted her head towards Loki, squinting at him through glassy eyes. 

“My hair’s not dry,” she mumbled after a pause, her words blurring together. “It’d get your shirt wet.” 

Loki couldn’t bite back a smile as he rolled his eyes; with a flick of his wrist, he used a hint of his seidr to dry Theo’s hair. 

“There, now you have no excuse.” He murmured, flashing an encouraging smile.  

Theo stared at him blankly, as though she did not comprehend what transpired.  

Loki sighed, giving her another gentle nudge as he guided her head onto his shoulder. 

“You are rather stubborn,” he whispered, though he didn’t put any heat behind his words.

“Mhm…” Theo closed her eyes, humming her response.

Loki resumed tracing shapes along Theo’s arm, hoping it would help with lulling Theo to sleep. Though he kept his eyes trained on the television, he paid little attention to the film.

The more Loki saw of Theo’s exhaustion, the more he regretted his decision to push Theo to join; in hindsight, he ought to have let the poor woman sleep. Then again, he would not have been able to stop her nightmare if she had not joined, so perhaps it was not a terrible decision; even so, he could have handled other elements of their interaction differently.

Caught up in his mind, Loki barely noticed when the weight on Loki’s shoulder grew heavier, or when the tension in her body had completely dissolved. The return of the slight wheeze, which gave each of Theo’s slow inhales and exhales a rougher, uninhibited quality, pulled Loki from his ruminations, at which point he realized Theo had finally allowed herself to fall asleep.

If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn she had taken some sort of sedative with how deeply she slept; even with the team chattering and singing along to the film, she didn’t stir. Yet, Loki still did not feel as though everything was as it should be.

In his many interactions with Theo, he never noticed a wheeze or any sign of trouble breathing; perhaps Theo had caught some sort of Midgardian illness while she was away, which left her feeling unwell. That would explain the lack of color in her complexion, as well as her expression after finishing her whiskey. The more he thought about the possibility that she may have been ill, the more he noticed how Theo radiated heat, even through her blanket. He brought one hand up to rest on Theo’s forehead, only to find the skin burned beneath his touch.

Theo was ill - that must have been the cause of her behavior.

Loki’s stomach twisted itself into a knot. The last place Theo should have been was a social event; she should have been in bed, and they should have been ensuring she was amply stocked with medicine, fluids, and whatever else she might need. 

And even worse, had Loki not pestered Theo into joining them, she would have been resting in her own bed, not fighting to stay awake on a sofa while a dozen superheroes sing along to a silly, animated film that could be viewed whenever they desired.

Norns, Loki truly was a fool.  

By that point, they were near the end of the film - interrupting to get Theo to bed would provide little, if any benefit. Though he could not undo his previous behavior, he could use his seidr to cool his body, which he theorized might help with Theo’s fever; he barely thought twice before doing so. 

Just before Loki reached his lower temperature, Theo shifted in her sleep to lay her head on Loki’s chest, with her forehead resting in the crook of his neck and one arm slung across his stomach as if to embrace him. Loki stilled for a moment, ensuring he hadn’t accidentally awoken her before he lowered his temperature the rest of the way. 

Theo slept for the remainder of the film, not moving once despite the racket in the living room. Even after the film concluded, the added light from a nearby lamp did not wake her, nor did she seem to notice the uptick in volume as conversation filled the air. Unwilling to risk disturbing her, Loki remained perfectly still.

Romanoff was the first to notice. At the sight of Theo curled around Loki, her eyes nearly burst out of her head. Barnes was the next to notice; he narrowed his eyes at the sight, nodding to himself. Third to notice was Maximoff, who absolutely beamed at the pair while leaning into Vision.

Instead of acknowledging their observations, Loki pretended not to notice; he only allowed this because Theo clearly was not well, and his actions worsened the situation. 

Stark, unsurprisingly, was the first to actually comment.

“Maybe we should call her sleeping beauty, not Rapunzel.” He quipped, smirking at the sorcerers; next to him, Potts mirrored his smirk perfectly.

“When did she fall asleep?” Maximoff kept her voice low, gaze flickering between her two friends with a coy smile.

“Near the start of the film,” Loki answered, careful to remain quiet so as not to disturb Theo. 

“How close to the start?” Potts asked, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands.

“Shortly after ‘Be Our Guest.’” Loki glanced down at Theo, who felt absolutely boneless from how deeply she slept. 

“She slept through that much of the movie?” Belova whispered, though it was perhaps too loud to truly be considered a whisper; it was as if she wanted to shout, but refrained from doing so. 

“Did she not sleep while in the field?” Loki replied with a question of his own.

“Now that you mention it…” Rogers faltered, his brows pinching together. “I don’t know if she slept more than an hour or two each night, and then on top of fighting she used magic to heal all of us multiple times, including on the way home. She’s probably exhausted.”

“Actually, she looks a bit pale,” Banner pointed out, “Even for her. Any chance she might be sick?”

“I am far from an expert on Midgardian biology, but I suspect she has a fever,” Loki observed, secretly grateful someone else reached the same conclusion. “Not to mention her breathing sounds a bit… off.”

“Friday, what’s Theo’s temperature?” Maximoff called out, glancing up at the ceiling.

“Theo’s temperature is currently 102.3 degrees Fahrenheit,” FRIDAY replied. 

“Must be how she melted your icy heart,” Belova muttered under her breath, earning a snort from Shuri and poorly stifled laughter from the Sergeant. 

Other than rolling his eyes at Belova’s comment, Loki ignored her. There were more pressing matters to attend to; getting Theo to bed and ensuring she took some medicine top among them. 

“Theo,” Loki murmured, giving her shoulder a nudge. “Wake up. The film is over…”

No response.

“Theo—“

Other than a faint whimper, Theo did not stir. A closer look revealed damp strands of hair clung to her skin, undoubtedly the result of her fever. 

At that point, waking Theo seemed pointless; she clearly needed to rest, and any one of the Avengers could easily carry her to her quarters. Locking eyes with Maximoff, Loki quietly sighed.

“If I bring her to bed, could you fetch some medicine?” 

With a nod, Maximoff darted into the hall on a quest for a glass of water and medication. 

Carefully slipping out from beneath Theo, Loki effortlessly scooped her up and rose to his feet. Theo didn’t even notice, sleeping soundly through the trip down the hallway. Maximoff met him at the door to Theo’s quarters with medicine in hand, leading the way to Theo’s bedroom; she pulled back the blankets on the bed before Loki carefully eased Theo on the mattress. 

“I’ll leave the medicine here for whenever she wakes up. If she’s sleeping through all of this, she probably needs the rest.” Maximoff set the pill bottle and glass of water on Theo’s bedside table. “Do you think someone should stay with her?”

“You can go–” Loki covered Theo with the blankets, taking care to ensure she was properly tucked in. “I’ll stay.”

It was the least he could do, all things considered.

“Are you sure? I feel bad, I was the one who pressured her to join.” Maximoff crossed her arms, frowning as she watched Theo sleep.

“You simply suggested she attend,” Loki corrected, glancing around for a place he might sit. Without any chairs, it seemed his best choice was the other side of the bed. “It would not have been feasible for you to notice she was unwell from such a short interaction.”

… Unlike Loki, who not only engaged with Theo the entire journey to her quarters, but who nearly caused an injury to Theo as well. He ought to have been more observant.

The scarlet witch sighed. “I guess. Just… if you need anything, let me know, okay?”

“Of course,” Loki conjured himself a book, then rounded the bed to take a seat. “Good night, Maximoff.”

With a final good night, Maximoff departed, leaving Loki to keep watch over Theo. 

Loki leaned back against the headboard, opened his book, and tried not to fret over the mess he’d made.

I've planted some clues That I hope you find easily Things that I find hard to speak clear and true I think there's a part of you Hoping I'm hoping you feel like I do And maybe you're listening Somewhere you like to be Where you let everything heavy just go Oh, I'd like to be there How I'd like to stay, How I'd like to listen How I'd like to think I'd know just what to say

When she woke up next, there was no other way to put it: Theo felt like shit. 

A steamroller may as well have run her over, backed up, and run over her again with how sore her muscles were. She distantly wondered if her skull was going to crack from the pressure between her temples. 

The pain was a significant enough distraction that it took her a minute to realize that despite her last memory of trying not to throw up while watching Beauty and the Beast in the living room, she was now in a bed.

She was in someone’s bed… But her head wasn’t on a pillow. It was too firm to be a pillow, and the shape was wrong. Something twitched beneath her. A muscle? She was laying on someone? Their leg? No, their lap. 

Okay, she was in a bed, and her head was on someone’s lap.

Cool fingers massaged her scalp, smooth and soothing in contrast to the misery in her skull. It was a pleasant, though confusing, distraction.

“Good morning…”A low voice rumbled from above, “or should I say, good afternoon?”

With a small groan, Theo forced her sleep-crusted eyes open. She searched the room to find Loki, raven curls loosely falling around his face as he watched her with a small, fond smile.

Her head laid on Loki’s lap. Loki was in her room, on her bed, with her head on his lap, massaging her scalp like it was the most normal thing in the world. And apparently it was the afternoon? 

What the hell happened?

“You fell asleep during the film last night and could not be roused, so we brought you to your bed.” Loki’s smile grew wider, as if he was proud to know what Theo was wondering without her saying it out loud. However, the smile didn’t last long, replaced with a stern look. “Why didn’t you tell us you were unwell?”

“I was just tired.” Even Theo had to admit that her excuse was less than convincing.

“According to FRIDAY, you had a fever of 102.”

“I what?” That was certainly news to Theo; a headache and body aches weren’t uncommon from pushing herself too hard, but she didn’t think she’d gotten to the point of a fever.

“Were you not aware of your illness?” Loki sounded just as surprised as Theo was, though for an obviously different reason.

“I thought I just had a bad headache from being tired.” It was, technically, the truth.

“So you were not entirely truthful yesterday evening,” Loki asserted, “you had a headache.”

Damnit.

“Yeah, but I took some Aleve.” Theo grimaced, wishing that she’d had the foresight to move the medicine from her bathroom to her nightstand. “Besides, it’s a headache. I get them all the time.”

“It is rather concerning to think you are a healer who cannot tell when you are ill.” Loki’s teasing would have been much funnier if Theo didn’t feel like complete and utter shit.

“Loki, my job is to heal other people,” Theo scoffed. “It’s different.”

“Yes, well, regardless, it is still concerning. Additionally, your breathing was - and is still - sounds a bit unsettling.”

Fuck. She hadn’t even noticed that she started wheezing again.

“Um, about that.” Theo forced herself to sit up, ignoring her body’s protests, and swallowed nervously. The explanation was not one she was ready to provide, but it didn’t seem like she had much of a choice. “It’s not a cold. I have this thing - asthma - it’s like my lungs get irritated easily and they get inflamed, which makes it hard to breathe. I just need to use my inhaler and it’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t anywhere near a comprehensive definition of what asthma was, but Loki didn’t need to know the specifics.

“Forgive me for my hesitancy to trust you.” Loki arched a brow at Theo and shot her a pointed glance.

To prove her point, she rolled over to her nightstand, fished her inhaler out of the drawer, shook it a few times, sat up as tall as she could, and took a puff from the inhaler while locking eyes with Loki. She held her breath, the band in her chest loosening as the bronchodilator took effect, then let out a slow exhale. 

“See?” She took a deep breath, this time noticeably absent of any wheezing. “That would have turned me into a coughing mess if I tried that a minute ago.”

“Very well.” Loki relented, though the way he studied Theo made her wonder if he actually believed her, or if he simply didn’t want to argue. “Do you still have a headache? Maximoff left some medicine for you on your nightstand…”

Theo glanced back at the nightstand; sure enough, a white bottle sat next to a full glass of water, ready for when Theo would need it. She uncapped the bottle, dispersed two pills into her open palm, tossed them back, then washed them down with the water. All the while, she thought back to her original question of what happened.

If she understood correctly, someone brought her back to her bed after the movie. At some point, someone figured out she had a fever. Wanda was there last night, but Loki was there when she woke up, and based on his greeting, it sounded like he must have been there for a while. That meant…

“Wait, were you here all night?”

“Of course.” Loki answered like it was painfully obvious. “We could not simply leave you while you were ill.” 

Theo’s stomach twisted itself in a knot. She snapped at Wanda when she got home, and then she was an absolute asshole to Loki the entire night. But instead of leaving her to be miserable, they made sure she got back to bed, had medicine, and then Loki even stayed with her in case she needed anything. He even gave her a fucking scalp massage.

She was the worst.

“God, fuck, I’m so sorry.” Theo scrubbed her face with both hands, desperately trying to ignore the moisture pricking at her burning eyes and the throbbing in her skull.  

“I beg your pardon?”

“I was such an asshole to you last night - seriously, a bona fide bitch.” Theo dropped her hands to her lap and stared at them; it was all she could do not to make things even worse. “You didn’t deserve it — you were just trying to help me de-stress. You shouldn’t have had to take care of my cranky ass. I definitely didn’t deserve it.”

A cool finger hooked beneath Theo’s chin, lifting her face so she met Loki soft green eyes. “In your defense, I nearly caused you an ankle injury.” He offered a gentle smile at Theo before continuing. “Please, be forthright with me: why didn’t you tell us you were not feeling well?”

He really wanted an answer to the question, didn’t he?

Theo took a deep breath, held it while she scrubbed her face once more, then released it with a sigh. “How wimpy would it sound if I came back and complained about a measly headache?” Self-deprecation crept into Theo’s tone. “Like, oh she can’t even handle a mission where everything went well.” 

Loki frowned, dropping his hand away from Theo’s chin. “You need not fear judgment; you would not be here if you were not capable.”

“Every day, I see people who nearly die when they go out into the field. I treat traumatic, life-changing injuries.” Theo countered, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t bitch about a headache - I should be grateful that I get to come back in one piece and see my friends and watch movies with them.” 

“It does you no good to admonish yourself for such a thing; someone else experiencing something worse does not negate your own suffering.” Loki ducked, trying to lock eyes with Theo once more. “Be kind to yourself.”

Refusing to meet Loki’s gaze, Theo chewed on the inside of her cheek. He was right: comparing who has it worse doesn’t make it suck less. Hell, she had even told other people that very same message. 

But it was much easier to say than to believe, especially when she already felt awful.

Two arms wrapped around Theo, pulling her into a gentle embrace. Instinctively, she pressed herself a bit closer, burying her nose in the fabric of Loki’s shirt and inhaling deeply.  She felt the strong, steady beat of Loki’s heart and heard it in her ear, giving her something to focus on and quiet her turbulent thoughts.

“Are you feeling up to a small adventure?”

Not really, but Theo was curious. She leaned back just far enough to send Loki an inquisitive glance.

“A new cafe opened up nearby that I’ve meant to visit, near one of my favorite book stores. As a fellow literature lover I believe it’s time that I introduce you to my favorite place in Midgard.” Loki explained, and if Theo didn’t know better she swore she caught a small flush of pink on Loki’s cheeks. “We need not go there now, if you are not feeling up to it. But when you are well again, I would like for you to join me.”

Theo’s heart quickened. It sounded like a great time, but she was in no state to enjoy it; even beyond the part where everything still hurt, she was still exhausted, despite apparently sleeping all night and most of the day.

“I would love to go, but maybe not quite yet.” She replied, forcing something that she hoped looked like a smile on her face. “I’m still not feeling great, if I’m totally honest. I’m just really tired, I’m kind of achy, and my head still hurts a bit.”

Before Theo could object, Loki brought one blessedly cool palm to her forehead and frowned. “You still feel a bit warm; perhaps it is for the best that we save the expedition for later.” Lowering his hand, he caught Theo’s in his and gave it a tender squeeze. “Are you hungry at all? You’ve not eaten in some time.”

“No,” Theo quickly replied, “My stomach gets kind of queasy when I get headaches like this.”

Loki hummed. “Is there anything I might do to alleviate your discomfort?”

“I didn’t think princes served other people.” Theo replied, unable to stop the smile that curled on her lips.

A breathless puff of laughter snuck out of Loki; Theo felt the laugh rumble through his chest as much as she heard it. “I am willing to make an exception for you… You must not tell the others, though.” 

Theo giggled. The medicine from earlier had finally started to take effect, providing a much needed respite from her discomfort. She relaxed further into Loki’s embrace, earning a satisfied hum from her companion.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, feeling herself start to drift. “... For being here. And for not telling me to fuck off when I totally deserved it.”

Loki chuckled at the latter half of her comment. “Darling, it’s my pleasure.”

Somebody, somebody blocked the door I know it was me for sure But somebody knows where I'm hidden away I try very hard to know just what to say Just what to say, just what to say I try very hard to know just what to say Just what to say, just what to say I try very hard to know just what to say Just what to say, just what to say

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki laufeyson #loki marvel #loki imagine #loki x ofc #loki x oc #loki comfort #loki slow burn #when everything's made to be broken #wemtbb

[hikari-drkspc]

❅ “A Single Flower In A Field Of Grass” ❅

character: yandere! dabi [boku no hero academia]

warning: a bit of b0dy h0rror, k1dnapping ; MINOR/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, PUT YOUR AGE IN BIO/PINNED POST TO INTERACT

words: 1.2k

a/n: this is a repost from my main blog (@/hikari-writes) so yes this writing is old + bad, i just moved them here w/o editing bc im lazy and wants to keep reminding myself how bad my writing used to be <3

You have always been popular among the guys. Whether it’s from work or from when you walk on the streets. You’re just so beautiful, you see.

You’re not dense or anything so you’re completely aware of the attention you’re receiving. Ever since your school days, you’ve always received love confessions from the guys. And each time, you would reject them. You weren’t interested in engaging in any romantic relationship. If possible, you don’t really want to get married to anyone on that matter. All you wanna do in life is get over it with a decent job that gives decent pay, grow old, and pet your cat all the while.

You’re a natural-born beauty so it’s not like you wear anything to have such gorgeous features. In fact, you could wake up in the worst way possible and you’ll still look beautiful. Even though you’re pretty famous for rejecting any love confessions and turning down anyone who invited you to a date, there’s always those persistent type of guys that don’t know when to give up. You either just have to ignore them or give them a piece of your mind if they went overboard.

Even so, you’ve never been stalked or anything. You’re very, and I mean, VERY, sensitive to your surroundings. Your admirers knew this and they never risked following or stalking you if they want to live their life without getting caught by the police.

Which is also why he was able to catch you off guard.

You never wanted to earn his attention whatsoever. It never even occurred to you to do such things. But unintentionally, his interest seemed to spark from one question.

Why’s a beautiful flower like you got surrounded by so many disgusting flies?

He had to keep you away from them. It’s the only right thing to do. He had to have you all to himself. You belong to only him. He needed you.

~~**~~

Today couldn’t be any worse. Recently, several members of your guy colleagues went missing. And today, the police just happened to find those missing persons. That is, their corpses.

You were shocked beyond words. It seems impossible for several numbers of people from your office that went missing are now found together. Dead.

It’s hard to accept the reality. After work, you and all of your friends decided to pay a visit to their graves. You got home much later that day. It was getting pretty dark so you quicken your steps. All you wanted was just to get home safely. After what had happened to your colleagues, your sense of danger seems to have built up greatly.

You were about to reach your home when you saw something out of the corner of your eyes. Something moving in the dark alley. Your instinct tells you to quickly get the heck out of there but just as you were about to run, a faint soft voice caught your attention.

“….elp……"

Someone asking for help. Your blood ran cold. Someone is probably in pain there. You were the only one near the place so if you didn’t do something….what would’ve happened to that person?

Your fingers fumble around the inside of your handbag to search for your phone. You quickly call the hero support line to ask for assistance.

After the call had ended, your phone’s battery ran out and it automatically died. You tried to brave yourself and check out the alley. A sharp breath escaped your lips when you saw the sight in front of you.

It was one of your male coworkers. The feelings of fear completely left your body and great concern and worry filled your whole body.

"Steve?!”

You quickly make your way to your injured colleague to check if he was alright. He doesn’t seem to be conscious. You try to inspect him closely despite the darkness.

As you squint your eyes to look at him, you noticed a burning smell coming from him. You remembered that you had a mini flashlight in your handbag and pulled it out. You cautiously clicked the switch on and pointed it at him.

Upon seeing his condition, you let out a loud scream and let go of the flashlight you were holding.

His body is completely burned. His skin is nowhere to be seen and the blackish-red colour took up his whole body. He also doesn’t have any clothes on, obviously has been burned alongside him.

The smell of the burnt flesh sickens you and your stomach churned. Your trembling legs tried its best to help you stand. You need to get away from there. And fast.

“Whoa there, where do you think you’re going, missy?”

A male voice appears behind you, making you freeze in your place. You felt like you’re not supposed to look back to the owner of the voice, but your head moves on its own and looks back.

Your eyes widened, fully knowing who it is you’re facing, and most likely the culprit for the murder of Steve.

Dabi. One of the members of the League of Villains. You’ve seen him several times on the news and heck, he’s easy to recognize too, what’s with his extraordinary features on his face and all.

The heroes seem to take their sweet time getting to your location. You silently pray they arrive fast before anything happens. Although part of you seems to already accept your fate.

“Don’t look so scared. I don’t bite….unless you want me to.”

He playfully says with a smirk as he leisurely strides towards you. Your legs had long given up and you’re left cowering before him.

Dabi crouches down beside you and closes the distance between you both. You flinch at how close his face is to yours and quickly shut close your eyes, as if by doing so will make him go away.

“Y/N, loosen up a bit. You’re too tense, babe.”

You could hear him snicker as he said this. One of his hands reaches out and cupped your cheeks.

Your heart sank. How the hell does he know your name? And who does he think is, calling you babe like you’re his lover or something. At this point, you feel like  breaking down and crying. There’s only so much you can handle after all. Coming face-to-face with a villain, furthermore from the infamous League himself….this couldn’t be any worse.

“You know, from when I first saw you, I always thought it was odd. Why is it that…a beautiful flower like you, got surrounded by so many disgusting, pesky flies? It’s not as if you’re a disgusting pile of trash to make them attracted to you. No… you’re far from that. Even so, those idiotic flies still dreamed of getting a chance at you. It ticked me off.”

He points behind you, towards Steve. At this point, you’ve already somehow put two and two together. He killed Steve, and possibly the other of your colleagues that has been found dead too…all because he was interested in you?

“I guess you already knew what I was getting at by now, right?”

Dabi’s smirk grows wider as he pulls you closer and covers your nose with a piece of clothing. It all happened so fast that you barely had any time to react at all.

Before you knew it, your consciousness slowly slipped away and the last thing that you heard before your vision completely blacked out was Dabi’s husky voice, whispering into your ears.

“Don’t worry, love. You’ll learn to love me in no time at all.”

#tw: yandere #bnha yandere #bnha yandere x reader #bnha dabi #bnha yandere dabi #bnha yandere dabi x reader #bnha dabi x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia

[bonniebird]

Yelena Belova x Reader

Requested by Anon​

Halloween event

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“You’re late.” You said as soon as you opened your door and saw Yelena. She frowned at you as you hurried her inside. She was slightly surprised when she followed you through your apartment and found that one of the entire walls had opened up.

It was filled with computers, cooling fans and an assortment of tech. “You know I said that your apartment was smaller on the inside and you said I was crazy.” Yelena grumbled as she gestured to the wall.

“You are. This is a room in a different part of town. I just used a portal to open up and go-between.” You muttered. She nodded and gestured as if that made sense though her face said the opposite. 

“Hey! We could really use some help.” Someone said over a speaker. 

“Yeah. I’m working on it.” You snapped back.

“You need to take that thing and go help them. I can get you an earpiece.” you said quickly without looking at Yelena.

“Why? Also, who are the? I didn’t see what you pointed at. There’s like fifty weapons back here.” Yelena listed off.

“There’s a giant flesh monster down town. We need to contain it so it can be sent back to its lab. You’re the only other person that can help. We sent our best guy down there.” You said rather frantically as you plugged things into your computer and drones started flying out of a hatch in the wall in front of you.

“Well, what happened to your best guy?” Yelena asked.

“He got slurped into the flesh monster.”

“Urgh! Really. Slurped. Is that the word you’re going to use in your official files?” Yelena asked as she pulled a face.

“Are you going to help me or not?” You asked her as you glanced away from the computer and looked at her.

"I’ll be honest. I did not plan on dealing with an angry man-eating flesh monster today. If I knew that would be happening I would have dressed better." Yelena answered as she flailed around.

“There’s a suit under the floorboards where you left it. I put an earpiece in and fixed the gun.” You muttered as you turned back to your computer and leaned forward in your chair.

“Oh… Urm. You knew…” Yelena said.

“I’m top of my field. I'm going to notice that you scuffed up my floor.” You pointed out. Yelena nodded and left to go to your room. You heard her pulling the floorboard up and changing. She came out ready a few minutes later.

“So if I don’t get slurped are we? urm going to talk…” Yelena started awkwardly.

“You all have the same walk.” You answered and cut her off. When she made a confused noise you pointed at her. “Black Widows. You all have the same walk. I think it’s because you were all trained the same. Also, you run down walls the same way. It’s pretty efficient.” As you spoke you went to get a weapon off the shelf behind you and fill it with glowing darts. You found the correct holster for it and gave it to Yelena.

“Oh. So you just always… Does that mean you can tell when people are Black Widows?” She asked.

“Yes. I also figured out who Spider-man is but you can’t tell them that I know because it’ll freak them out.” You said quickly. Yelena nodded slowly and fixed the holster over her white suit. “They’ll be there by the way. It started to try to break through to another universe a few minutes ago.”

“Ok then. I urm… I’ll see you later then?” She asked. She wondered if she should be a little worried about how well you handled the whole Black Widow thing. She hadn’t even had the courage to break it to you. It was a bit of a relief that you knew all along.

“Yes. It’s Thai Tuesday. We always have Thai on Tuesday.” You reminded her. Yelena smiled and opened your window. She could now see the commotion a few blocks down.

“I’ll be back soon.” She called out as she climbed out of the window and vanished from sight. She showed up on your cameras a few minutes later. 

Yelena tags:

@stellasblog @DeanWinchestersgirl87 @thekayarlene @linkpk88 @babypink224221 @lisainhell @spiderwebs-blog @gryffindorqueensworld @rockyrascal @twerp8999 @justice-for-the-kaldorei @favmeyou @skinny-bitch-juice @salemsnothere @supernatural-wolfie @sentimentalweasley @why-am-I-here-01 @maxineswritingcenter @love1deandra @archaeologydigit @im-eating-rn @bucketbunny @multifandomwriter56 @littlefreakingfangirl @thebookisbtr @bluejaysaysstuff @lchufflepuffcorn @Kaitieskidmore1 @stupendousbelieverzombie @thebaileybugle @bluejaysaysstuff @slxthxrxn-sxmp @hc-geralt-23 @maplefire18

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #bonniebird #mcu #halloween2022

[spadecentral]

Enzo Wood Post

this is a post dedicated to my persona/oc! i am always welcome to questions about them!

wonderful art done by @/indulgentandidiotic!! chibi version done terribly by me

Enzo has their own blog at @enzo-wood

Name: Enzo Wood

Nickname(s): Pufferfish (Floyd);

Age: 17

Pronouns: They/He

Birthday: Aug. 17

Height: 5'10 (177 cm-ish)

Eye Color: Periwinkle | #a8a8c2

Hair Color: Naturally blonde, dyed everything but bangs black

Family: Father (out of the picture), Mother

Homeland: Shaftlands

Dorm: Ramshackle

School Year: Second

Class: 2-C, Student No. 32

Occupation: Student, Prefect, Part-time worker at Sam's

Club: Track and Field

As a young child, Enzo had developed a habit of running to catch the bus to get to school. They almost missed the bus every day. Now, they want to refine their skills.

Best Subject: Defense Magic

Dominant Hand: Right

Favorite Food: Shrimp

Sometimes, Enzo likes to enjoy this seafood delicacy! But, they hate scallops, which have almost the same taste but not the right texture! They also dislike any kind of fish.

Least Favorite Food: Pineapples

After so many years of having the same food practically stuffed down their throat because of sales, Enzo no longer enjoys the taste of the yellow fruit.

Dislikes: Homophobes

Mostly their father had to do something with it, but in general their least favorite people to encounter are homophobes.

Hobby: Watercolor Painting

Enzo's mother loved to do arts-and-crafts, and decided to share her hobby with her child, making it theirs as well.

Talent: Blot Knowledge

This is an intuition-based talent that corresponds with part of their background. It's kind of like a metal detector that will tell Enzo when they're closer or farther from an overblot/someone who might overblot.

Appearance:

Enzo has blond bangs with the rest of their hair dyed black. They have a black triangle below their right eye from an overblot incident they had when they were younger. They have freckles on their shoulders as well. Enzo has a tongue piercing as well as a split tongue. They have multiple (other) ear piercings that they only wear outside of school.

He is seen wearing the vest, but not the blazer of a gray uniform around the school. Instead of wearing the gray-and-white ribbon that was given to them as part of their uniform, they instead keep it in their pocket.

Their magical pen is in their back pocket. It has a light-gray gem, signaling the dorm they're in.

Personality:

Enzo is a calm and collected person, who is truly only comfortable with their mother. They are a tidy person who likes to keep their (and other people's) belongings in order. Despite being late all the time when they were younger, he now prefers to be early/on time for everything! Enzo has several alarms on their phone that are ready to ring every day. When they do not respond to the alarms, their whole day is ruined.

Although sometimes coming off as standoffish, they do care for the people around them. Enzo tends to show affection in acts of service!

They prefer to be in the moment and make things perfect then, than think to far ahead. When thinking too far ahead their mind gets hazy, so they try not to think about it too much.

Background:

Enzo Wood lives with their mother, as their father left when their mother came out to him as bisexual. Living a very full life, he appreciated all of the outings their mother took them on.

But there was one outing that they never really enjoyed. When they were younger, Enzo went to NRC with their mother for Halloween. Unfortunately, they had gotten separated in the crowd of jostling people. Young and scared, Enzo forgot to find an adult and went running. He ended up very far away from the NRC campus and encountered an overblot (like the one in the mines). They had gotten hit by the monster, and the mark is sort of a scar from it.

Skills and Magic:

Exceptional Stamina: From track & field club

Cosmic Magic: Enzo prefers to have a weapon that can benefit no one rather than a weapon that has the possibility to backfire.

Defense Magic: Traumatized from a childhood incident, they try to make sure that it never reoccurs to them or to anyone else.

Unique Magic: Suit My Needs

This magic is used best in overblot battles and allows them to use their opponents overblot as their weapon.

Trivia:

Enzo almost forced Sam to let them work with him

They use their money to fix the dorm slowly

They can cook really well; but cannot bake at all

The ghosts of Ramshackle like to say that Enzo is their adopted child

The blot that had attached to Enzo had skewed the mirror's judgement, hence why they were placed in Ramshackle

If they had no blot experience he would most likely have been placed in Heartslabyul

#twst #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #enzo wood #twisted wonderland #oc twisted wonderland

[agro-carnist]

i’ll probably regret sending this, but just to be clear- i don’t 100% agree with everything that post you reblogged about zoophilia said but it is Not normal behavior to find out someone has you blocked, block-evade to find a reason to dislike them, post about it and *then* take everything way out of left field. as a furry who has discovered i am attracted to anthropomorphized animals- i appreciate your friend for pointing at that it was weird to exclude that.

i may not agree with the people who went on to complain about the use of zoophilia, but it’s not my business, and it DOES NOT MEAN the original reblogger was supposedly admitting to being a zoophile??? at all? and i’m astounded because i had followed the owl blog and for someone who constantly mocks others reading comprehension, they do not seem to be skilled either. i’m just. huh???? i’m so sorry this is going on and i hope the bullshit dies down on both sides and owlvid learns to stay the fuck out of shit for once

im sure you are absolutely no danger to the animals you work with. you seem like an awesome person and im sorry this shit got to you

And you don't have to agree with me or those people! That's ok! We can disagree and still be constructive! We learn and grow by disagreeing with each other but having the same goals! I'm willing to change my positions if I find better ones! I don't agree with everything said in that chain either!

[dolphyn]

I’ve spent a good amount of time trying to get as complete a picture of this whole YandereDev situation as I can, and I thought I would share relevant links, videos, and screenshots here, all of which I think are worth looking into so you can be as informed as possible and piece together your own opinion. Because a lot of people I know are starting and stopping with this Reddit post made by the victim on September 22, 2023.

I would advise everyone to watch this stream where the victim went on to speak out about her situation and field questions. The stream was hosted by CameronF305 (Yandere Simulator’s lead musician and a close friend of YandereDev for years) and was uploaded on September 25, 2023.

It is like 3 hours long, but I urge people searching for the truth to watch the whole thing when you have time. But some highlights from the stream:

She confirms she is the one that initiated the DMCA strike against AllyMcC’s initial upload, and that if it ever got reuploaded, she would issue another strike.

She confirms that all the voice recordings and Snapchat logs from AllyMcC’s video are real, including the section where YandereDev begs her not to go forward with the video and the section where he tells her to lie and claim that the voice was made by an AI. So there should really be no doubt of the legitimacy of either the voice recordings or the Snapchat logs anymore. She does, however, attest that they are taken out of context and throughout the stream she provides the context for certain statements made by YandereDev.

She also attests that she made the decision to back out of the video before YandereDev begged her not to, but she continued to record their conversations and provided them to Ally in case she ever felt she DID need to come forward in the future, stating that it was possible she would feel that way, especially if other victims came to light eventually.

Obviously, she says a whole lot more, but these are the three most important points I’m going to be referring to going forward. Please watch the full stream and form your own opinions.

Also on September 25, YandereDev posted his apology on his Wordpress blog:

In his apology, he linked to the above Reddit statement made by the victim.

AllyMcC originally uploaded her video on September 24 and it received a copyright strike in the victim’s name. But a few days later, the strike was lifted and it can now be viewed again:

I urge those of you who haven’t watched it to watch it in its entirety so you can form an opinion of YandereDev’s words— which both the victim and YandereDev himself confirmed to be real— for yourself, even taken out of context.

It should be noted that according to the pinned comment, Ally received permission from the victim to reupload it and provided a link to a Discord conversation and a link to a TikTok attesting that the victim admitted truly did retract the original video out of fear. As the video still remains up weeks later, and the victim had claimed she would strike down any reuploads going forward, I believe this is true. Ally herself has no reason to fake a Discord screenshot as she has admitted herself that the Discord conversations between herself and the victim linked to in the Reddit comment were completely real.

On September 26th, CameronF305 announced that he had decided to leave the Yandere Simulator team:

It should be noted that Cameron has admitted to being YandereDev’s unofficial PR person for years and has addressed and stood by YandereDev during his many controversies and reached out to many anti-YandereDev YouTubers to hold discussions, and from what I can tell, everyone he talked to attests that he’s a respectful and civil person, if admittedly biased towards YandereDev. Ally confirmed that the person connected to YandereDev she spoke to that she alluded to in her video was in fact Cameron:

This is another 4+ hour stream but it is worth watching as well, I think, as the streamers— though admittedly biased against YandereDev going into it— try to come at the allegations with a nuanced view. Ally herself shows up in the chat to answer a few questions.

One of the people featured in that stream, Callimara, made her own video on the situation on October 6, 2023:

This is relevant because the victim herself left a comment on it:

Here, she admits that Cameron was the one who copyright striked the video on her behalf, but they apparently both had changes of heart soon afterwards. The “Adam” she is referring to, I believe according to what’s said in this video, is Adam McIntyre, who recently alleged Colleen Ballinger of grooming him (which is a whole other situation that can’t be covered here).

Related to Cameron’s recent change of heart, he had made a video a few years ago debunking the sisefs allegations, found here:

For those who don’t know, Sisefs is a Tumblr user who also alleged that YandereDev was sexually inappropriate with her when she was 14 years old. Her original allegation can be found here. This is the 14 year old that YandereDev refers to in AllyMcC’s video, where he claims that she was actually just a guy trolling and making false accusations.

On August 30, 2023, a YouTuber called FunIsInfinite uploaded a video that dives deeply into the sisefs allegations, and these are the findings that caused Cameron to update his video and refer to his own investigation as outdated:

Say what you will about the guy’s editing style and the jokes he makes, but the evidence he managed to dig up is certainly worth considering. If you have trouble following it, I suggest turning on the closed captions and pausing often to read the screenshots being displayed.

Of particular note are the comments Cameron made on the video:

So, I know this was a lot… but as you can clearly see, things go much further than that Reddit post that YandereDev linked to. I highly encourage everyone who wants a complete and nuanced view of the situation to do your research and don’t simply take a single person’s word for anything. It’s all connected, and the pieces fall quite clearly into place when you look at the whole thing.

For the record, I don’t believe anyone in this situation is 100% blameless/perfect. I think r/Osana was wrong to delete the victim’s Reddit posts. I believe AllyMcC went about the video situation the wrong way and could have handled the victim’s feelings much better. And I believe that the victim herself should never have approached YandereDev in the first place, though I would never say that any of this is her fault. After all, none of this diminishes what YandereDev did, and as he is the one with the biggest platform of any of these people, and with an extremely significant amount of his audience under the age of 18, his actions are the ones that certainly deserve the most scrutiny and condemnation. His own actions are his downfall. This is nobody’s fault but his own. And I firmly believe that he deserves to lose that platform and that he deserves to lose his loyal audience of minors. And that he should seek professional help and seriously work on himself before attempting to reach a wide audience ever again.

And with this whole wealth of evidence now before you and at your disposal to sift through at your leisure, I leave you with this particular Snapchat conversation between YandereDev and the victim, which might I remind you, both the victim and YandereDev confirm is real:

I think this really says everything in the end.

#yandere simulator #yanderedev #Yandere Dev #I originally compiled all of this for a reply to someone else’s post but figured I’d make a separate post for the community at large to see

[iredreamer]

Hi, love your blog! In the master-post section, there is a tag for information regarding Ann Walker's appearance and where the "pretty flaxen hair" description came from. I found it at the end of the January 1, 1837, entry as part of a hilarious mishap involving fire and Ann Walker's nightcap!

hello!! Thank you so much for your message, I transcribed that day because I was super curious:

Sunday 1, January 1837 > No kiss – fine morning sun shining and F 33 1/2° at 9 25/.. at which hour breakfast – A- [Adney] did her French till 10 – sat down stairs talking till 10 ¼ – then read the Halifax Guardian of yesterday and thought about letter to Messrs Gray – at 11 40/.. in 40 minutes – (25 prayers – 15 sermons) A- [Adney] and I had the servants all assembled in the [East] parlour and read prayers and one of Prley's sermons (very good) on new year’s day – then A- [Adney] had luncheon – I finished reading the Halifax Guardian of yesterday till 1 ½ – wrote my letter to Messrs Gray and my note to Mr Greenwood – Stopt a moment at the school in passing – at church at 2 25/.. five minutes before the time – Mr Fenton did all the duty – preached 24 minutes from Ecclesiaste iii.15 – good sermon – as far as I heard of it before dropping asleep – about 25 minutes at Cliff Hill – Mr Fenton arrived as we stopt at the door, and we left him there – have made [this] house very comfortable – laid out £500 – the present minister wanted to make a radical bp. [bishop] of Ripon – the abp. [archbishop] of York said if they did, he would not give up his money – but if they would appoint Longley (which they did) or a gentleman not very far from here (one [vicar] – Mr Musgrove was surely the person alluded to) he (the abp. [archbishop]) would give up the money – home at 5 ¼ – wrote the last 9 lines – sealed and put into the bag my letter to “Messrs Gray solicitors York” and my note to “[Thomas] Greenwood Esquire Bank Field” my letter to say I would rather have the whole sum on one security and by them to let me know as immediately as possible if I could have fifteen thousands from the [?] Prestons by the end of April to keep the papers for the present – shall be glad to hear the answer about the field – A- [Adney] much obliged by the information [procured] for her by Mr Watson – the note to ask Greenwood to call here as immediately as may suit his convenience, and to make his own day and hour – dinner at 6 ½ – coffee upstairs as usual – A- [Adney] read French – and afterwards read aloud from the London paper of tonight – I ½ asleep on the sofa till after 10 – fine day – hard frost and very cold – F 28° now at 10 25/.. p.m. – went to undress about 10 40/.. – about 11 heard a very strange noise of bustle and screaming in a confused undertone – found Cookson and Oddy with A- [Adney] who had set her night-cap on fire, and thrown it blazing on the hearth-rug, instead, as she intended, into the fire-place – everybody frightened but luckily no further harm done than singeing a little of A-’s [Adney] pretty flaxen hair – thankful that she was safe – sat up talking till near 12.

“about 11 heard a very strange noise of bustle and screaming in a confused undertone – found Cookson and Oddy with A- [Adney] who had set her night-cap on fire, and thrown it blazing on the hearth-rug, instead, as she intended, into the fire-place – everybody frightened but luckily no further harm done than singeing a little of A-’s [Adney] pretty flaxen hair – thankful that she was safe – sat up talking till near 12.” [SH:7/ML/E/19/0180]

This is hilarious and also frightening – love how Anne’s like “thank god SHE was safe” awwww <3

#ask #anonymous #anne lister diaries #real people: anne lister #real people: ann walker #ann walker: appearance #AL and AW: married life #ALyear: 1837 #ALentry: 1 jan 1837

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#5

Beside the Seaside: Ch 3

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1944

Claire Randall had been to France when she was young, had seen the lush green countryside and walked the streets of Paris, but she had long since been unable to reconcile her memories of another world with this one. She stood in the heart of what had once been a bustling city but was now reduced to rubble. The British army had set up a field hospital within the ruins of a cathedral, and Claire had grown accustomed to the way the steady sound of distant gunfire echoed off of its remaining half-walls. She lifted her head from tending to a soldier to see one of her fellow nurses, Marion, shuffling a wounded man into the tent.

“Have you seen him out there?” Claire asked. Marion shook her head and turned her own attention to her patient.

“You looking for your boy?”

Her gaze returned to the soldier, who was grimacing through the question. Corporal Thompson would be alright, she thought, but there was little she could do for his pain while cleaning and stitching up his wound. Besides, perhaps, a bit of a distraction, which he seemed to be looking for. Claire gave in, though it was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

“He’s not my boy, he’s just…”

He was Fergus, eight-year-old charmer and perpetual pain in her arse. As soon as she got her hands on him, she was going to throttle him.

“Maybe not,” Thompson conceded, “but you look out for him, don’t you? Everyone always sees you two together, anyway.”

The man’s assessment of her and Fergus brought her up short. She paused in her treatment and stared at him, the urge to defend the young scamp rising steadily to the surface. “He needs a little looking after, whether he wants it or not. He doesn’t have anyone.”

There were few who came through this camp without learning Fergus’s story. The boy was already an orphan before war broke out, but when his city’s inhabitants evacuated, including the staff and wards of the Catholic orphanage where the boy was said to have been a resident, Fergus was left behind. Some said he stayed behind on purpose, for Fergus truly was the life of the camp and ran wild through it without the supervision of the nuns, but most believed he’d just been overlooked in the chaos. By Claire’s estimation, Fergus had been here with the army for at least two years now, moving with them in the encampment, and living off of the kindness of others. He’d been “stationed” here longer than Claire had, and even with the entire camp as his personal playground, she saw very quickly that no one was really caring for Fergus. Even the details of his story had become a bit muddied without someone there to safeguard it; for instance, she was never clear on whether this very city had been his home or if the army had picked him up on their way through to it. Fergus himself was squirrely on the details, in no hurry to return to the nuns.

“Funny kid, that Fergus,” Thompson went on, hissing on occasion but otherwise quietly bearing the pain. To some of the soldiers, Fergus was nothing more than a pet, a source of entertainment, as though they couldn’t see the humanity in a small, lonely child. Claire was starting to get the distinct impression that Thompson fell into that category and grit her teeth as she neared the end of her stitching. “I wonder what will happen to him when this ends. If this ever ends…”

Claire felt her stomach churn. Where would Fergus go when the army left and no one returned to the rubble of his former home? “There’s got to be another orphanage somewhere that would take him.” But even as she spoke the words ‒ for a perfectly reasonable solution ‒ she hated the thought.

A bomb blast echoed in the distance and Claire’s eyes shot to the entryway again.

“So where’d he run off to?”

Claire bit her cheek to keep from screaming. She could be sympathetic to the man’s need for distraction, but this conversation was starting to make her want to pull her hair out. She was already worried sick over Fergus, and Thompson’s careless questions weren’t helping.

Mercifully, she caught her name being spoken and her gaze flitted toward the voice. It was Sergeant Harris, whom she was friendly with. He was a bit older than the rest and one of the few men Claire didn’t feel like she needed to keep her guard up around to ward off unwanted advances ‒ apparently a wedding ring didn’t mean much in wartime to most people.

“Fergus?” she asked, unable to keep her voice from wobbling. Just yesterday the boy had said he wanted to be a real soldier, and when he’d gone missing this morning…

“Yes, come see, Nurse Randall. He’s alright, but he’s all shook up.”

She ran out of the medical tent, quickly scanning the area for him. And when her gaze rested on him, the vice grip on her heart finally slackened. “Fergus!”

He looked up as she approached him, his expression a little dazed, and he seemed at that moment so much younger than his eight years.

“Oh, Fergus, you little wretch!” She clasped the boy to her heart and heaved a sigh of relief. He became boneless in her embrace, sinking into her.

“Milady,” he murmured. It was Fergus’s teasing nickname for her ‒ after their introduction at the camp, she’d ruthlessly dressed down a soldier for not paying attention to her presentation on preventing trench foot and Fergus had witnessed it. He had said she’d looked the part of nobility in that moment for her command over the men, and so he’d called her Milady ever since, always with a devilish glint in his eyes ‒ or at times he said it sarcastically when she turned her attention to fussing over him.

But just then, he sounded so small, so lost in the dark, and Claire didn’t know what else to do but clutch him tighter to her. “Are you alright?”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, framing his dirt-smudged face in her hands. God, she hoped that was only dirt.

“I k‒ I killed a German soldier, Milady.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Don’t tell me that,” she said in a breathless whisper.

“H‒h‒he was not with the others. I thought he might be a spy. He didn’t see me and I‒ I had a knife. I struck him.”

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65 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

#4

chapter 26: the best by far is you

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Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie’s story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the Battle of Culloden.

Chapter 26 

“Do you think it’s strange,” Claire asked him while Brianna was tucked against her breast as she nursed, “that Murtagh hasn’t once held the baby?”

Her tone suggested that she did think it was strange, regardless of Jamie’s thoughts on the matter. “Och, I’ve told ye before, mo nighean, he’s scared o’ bairns when they’re that small. Thinks they’re too fragile and likely to fall apart in his arms.”

Claire’s brows furrowed together. “Well, sure, he didn’t go near Faith until she was at least seven months old, but I thought… I mean, he’s been wonderful with her ever since.”

“Aye, she’s no longer a wee babe now is she?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “So, he won’t go near Brianna until she’s hearty enough that he’s not scared to hold her? When she’s half a year old? Is that what you’re saying?”

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Sassenach… he loves our bairns. He’d protect them with his life. Ye ken that well. And aye, someday when Brianna is hearty enough as ye say, I’m sure he’ll hold her, if that’s yer worry.”

She shook her head, exasperated by the notion, and glanced down at the baby in her arms. Brianna’s arms and legs flailed as soon as Claire looked at her, wriggling with joy. Jamie’s heart melted at the sight. Such a sweet wee thing, their Brianna.

Claire’s finger traced the contours of the babe’s soft, round face. “Well, that simply won’t do, will it, Bree?”

----------

Claire cornered Murtagh with the baby while he was in the sitting room, lounging in one of the chairs and none the wiser to her scheming. Jamie sat nearby and watched the event unfold with nothing short of amusement, as Claire simply lowered the baby into Murtagh’s lap before there was an opportunity for the older man to escape.

Murtagh went rigid with fear, his arms stiff and awkward around the baby. “Nay‒ I‒ Claire!”

“Don’t make such a fuss. She’s sleeping.” Claire straightened, settling her hands on her hips, surveying the two unlikely companions with a smile. “There, see? Nothing to be afraid of.”

Murtagh looked as though he might argue that point, still holding Brianna with a delicateness as though she were a loaded pistol, poised to go off at any moment.

And with that, Claire spun and walked to the other side of the room to help Fergus with his lessons. Murtagh turned sharp eyes on Jamie. “What the devil is all this about, then?”

Jamie’s gaze flitted over to Claire but she wasn’t looking. He suspected she would be stealing glances this way, though. “I think,” he began softly, “that she worries ye won’t… bond with Brianna, if ye dinna hold her.”

“Christ,” Murtagh muttered under his breath.

Jamie held a hand up placatingly to his godfather. “She sees how ye are wi’ Fergus and wee Faith, I think she just wants to make sure ye care the same way about the bairn, too.”

His godfather made a disgruntled sound. “If she thinks this is the way to do it…” he grumbled. “Fer Christ’s sake, of course I care about the bairn.”

“I ken that, but…” Jamie’s gaze dropped to the sleeping babe in Murtagh’s arms, so small and helpless, and his heart wrenched. He understood the deeper reason that Claire was so unsettled about Murtagh and the bairn. “Anything could happen, ye ken? We have three bairns now, and with all that happened in the last year, just trying to keep our family together… Claire cannae help thinking about the worst… what would happen to the wee ones if we weren’t‒” He swallowed roughly, shrugging a little. Claire wasn’t the only one who couldn’t help thinking about that. Any parent would.

“Aye, I ken yer meaning fine.” Murtagh looked down at the baby then too, still appearing stiff as a poker as he held her, but the older man’s expression softened. “Christ, though… did she think I would leave the bairn and keep the others?”

“I dinnae think she feels that way now, seeing as ye havenae tried to pass the baby off to me yet,” he said with a grin.

Murtagh grunted his displeasure. “I would if I wasnae so nervous she might roll out o’ my arms when I tried.”

Jamie huffed a laugh. “Ye’re doing fine, a ghoistidh. And while I have ye at my disposal,” he teased, earning another sharp look from Murtagh. “I’ve been meaning to ask ye… what yer plans are from here. If ye want to go back to Scotland or continue on wi’ us.”

Murtagh simply stared at him until Jamie was shifting in his seat under his gaze. “First Claire and now you? Och, ye wound me, Jamie.”

“I didnae want to presume. That’s why I asked.”

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67 notes - Posted March 9, 2022

#3

Beside the Seaside: Ch 1

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Summary: 

The Second World War has ended but returning to their lives from before the war proves difficult for many. For widower Jamie Fraser, the physical and psychological scars he now carries threaten the peaceful life he wants to provide for his young daughter. In an effort to start over fresh, he moves them to a coastal town in the Highlands and buys a seaside inn.

Claire Beauchamp returned from the war with an orphan in tow, intent on adopting the boy and starting the family she and her husband had longed for before the war interrupted their plans. But in gaining her son, she loses her marriage and now must cobble together some sort of life for just her and Fergus. To try and mend their fractured relationship, she takes her son on an extended stay in the Scottish Highlands.

November 1945

He had the car drop him off at the end of the lane rather than Lallybroch’s doorstep. Stood there for a minute with his bag thrown over one shoulder and his uniform growing damp under the steady rain.

It had been raining the day he left Lallybroch, and it gave Jamie a strange sense of no time having passed between that day and this one, even though everything about his life had changed in those five years. Yet Lallybroch looked the same. The heavy stone walls built by his ancestors had stood for two centuries and it heartened Jamie to see the place untouched by the destruction of war. The walls of it, at least.

His feet felt leaden with every step that brought him closer to his home. He wasn’t ready for who he would see. He wasn’t ready for who he wouldn’t see here ever again. And while he’d carried some of these losses for three years now, he hadn’t been home without them yet. It would be real, inescapable, the moment he stepped foot inside.

Jamie had hardly passed under the archway of Lallybroch before the bellowing of several dogs inside the house announced his presence. Ready or not, the front door flew open, and there was his ma. His throat constricted at the sight of her, and he’d all but blinked and she was in front of him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Oh, my lad! My son,” she sobbed into his neck, her voice nearly drowned out by the heavy rain.

Ye’re a braw lad, son.

The words came to mind of their own volition, a memory triggered by his return. Not spoken by his mother, but his father on the day Jamie left for training. His da had driven him to the train station after Jamie had said goodbye to everyone else, giving Jamie a prolonged moment with Brian Fraser. But the entire drive and all through waiting for Jamie’s train, the two of them hardly spoke. What was there to say in such circumstances? Brian had fought in the Great War, and he’d hoped to spare his own sons from such a fate. That was no secret to Jamie, and he’d already witnessed Brian’s quiet grief when Willie left months before. Knew that his own leaving was twisting the knife further in Brian’s gut. So they’d stayed quiet. When the train pulled in and began to fill with soldiers, Brian had clapped Jamie on the shoulder and, when Jamie moved to hug his father, had kissed his cheek, something he hadn’t done since Jamie was a boy. “Ye’re a braw lad, son,” he had said, giving Jamie’s shoulder a wee shake. When his father spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. “Make sure ye come back home.”

Jamie felt his chest tighten with the memory and his arms squeezed around his mother. He had done as Brian had told him ‒ he had come home. But not before he could see his father alive again, now dead and buried in the Lallybroch family cemetery. Those words became the last thing his da ever said to him, and among his long list of regrets in life was the hour that Jamie wasted in silence with him on that day.

“Oh, my Jamie,” his mother was saying now. She pulled back to look at him, framing his face in her cold, wet hands. His jaw tensed.

Ellen MacKenzie Fraser had always been the stubborn pillar of strength in their family but in the last six years, she’d had to weather more than a fair share of grief. She looked more frail than he’d ever seen her before, and that left a cold feeling in his chest.

“Jamie!”

His gaze lifted to the doorway to find Jenny rushing down the steps, clutching her round belly ‒ he hadn’t realized she was pregnant again, hadn’t seen word of it come through in any of his letters from home.

He opened one arm to embrace his sister, bringing the three of them together. The unwelcome thought came as he held them; they were the last three Frasers standing, their family gone by half in the space of a bloody war.

“Och, it’s pouring buckets out here!” Jenny fussed. “Come inside and get warm.”

He picked up his bag from the ground and followed Jenny in, his mother’s hand on his back the whole way, like she needed to touch him to know he was real.

Stepping inside Lallybroch felt like stepping back in time ‒ everything exactly as he remembered it from before. He half-expected to see his father and his brothers when he rounded the corner into the sitting room, so inseparable were they in his memories of this place.

Instead, he caught sight of another familiar face. “Ian!”

“Good to see ye, Jamie.” His best friend strode across the room, his gate completely changed from the confident ease with which Ian used to carry himself. Until he saw that, Jamie had almost forgotten. Ian’s prosthetic leg wasn’t visible under his trousers, but to anyone who had known him before, his uneven strides were a dead giveaway.

Jamie embraced his friend ‒ his brother-in-law now too, he reminded himself ‒ and noticed Jenny then corralling a small boy towards them. “This is our wee Jamie,” she introduced with a proud smile. “This is your uncle, mo cridhe,” she said to the boy, “the one you’re named after.”

Jenny and Ian’s son was scarcely more than 3 years old, and he smiled shyly up at Jamie. His namesake. He had known this; Jenny had written to him with news of his first nephew while Jamie was nearly on his deathbed. At the time, it had been a comfort. Another reason to make it home. But now, looking down at the wee boy, all Jamie could think was that if his nephew had been born a few months later, he would be Willie’s namesake instead, or their father’s ‒ as he ought to be. Not saddled with Jamie’s name. Not when Jamie had done nothing for this boy to be proud of.

“Hello, laddie,” he said with a slight nod.

There was a gentle touch at his elbow and he turned to find his mother at his side again. “Someone else would like to see ye.” She nodded towards the doorway opposite them, and Jamie’s gaze flitted over to see a girl of six years of age in place of where he had left a wee babe. His stomach twisted into knots. She looked so much like her mother, it gave Jamie the strange sense of seeing a memory come to life right before him.

He skirted slowly around the others and paused six feet away from where his daughter stood. And lowered himself slowly to one knee.

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76 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

#2

the best by far is you: chapter 25

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Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie’s story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the Battle of Culloden.

Chapter 25

Jamie didn’t know what hour of night it was when Claire was finally given a chance to rest, after having been helped into a clean nightgown while the bed was stripped. The baby was bundled up and sleeping soundly in her cradle, the exhaustion from the last 24 hours having caught up with both mother and babe. He paused at the door, gaze flickering between the slumbering forms of his wife and their wee lass, heart in his throat.

Some small part of him was scared to step outside this room, to leave them even for a moment, lest he find out that the last several hours were nothing more than a dream.

But somewhere down the hall, there was someone waiting up for word of the baby, and Jamie wasn’t so cruel as to make him wait until sunrise.

So he slipped out into the hallway, vacant but still dimly lit with candles along the wall. Not long ago, there had been a flurry of activity in these halls. After the birth, a maid had spread word to the rest of the household that a baby girl had been safely delivered, including ‒ Jamie was sure ‒ to wherever Jared and Murtagh had settled in to drink their whiskey in the tense silence of men unsure of what to do with themselves while a woman labored. And just shortly before Jamie’s trek, another housemaid had helped Mother Hildegarde and Marie to their guest chambers for the night. But even while it was quiet now and the rest of the household seemed to sleep, Jamie knew one person was still up, who had been missed while the joyous news was spread.

They would’ve assumed the children were sleeping, but having been the boy on the other side of this conversation, Jamie was intimately acquainted with the fear that kept a son from sleeping no matter the hour. The relief and gratitude and joy that he got to deliver different news to his own son was almost enough to bring him to his knees there in the hallway. That he should be so fortunate to still have all of them with him…

He opened the door to Fergus’s room and the soft light from the hallway spilled into the pitch black room. Two small bodies were under the covers but only one stirred and bolted upright, expectant of a visitor.

The light caught the tracks of tears on Fergus’s face, his expression already taut with worry. “Maman?” he croaked.

His word landed like a punch in the gut. Jamie should’ve come sooner, should’ve found a way here immediately to put this boy’s fears to rest.

“She's alright. Oh, a balach, it’s alright,” he murmured, moving into the room as Fergus drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face, the sound of his smothered cries filling the room a moment later.

“Dinna fash yerself, laddie.” He perched on the edge of the bed, reaching over to rub Fergus’s back. “Dinna weep, mon fils, it’s alright,” he murmured soothingly, even as he knew Fergus needed the release of those tears for all the time he’d sat here in the dark fearing the worst. He cried for the relief of it all.

“Can I see Maman?”

“Aye, of course ye can. She’s sleeping just now though and we shouldnae disturb her. She’ll want to see ye when she wakes, so how about in the morning?” And maybe Fergus, with his fears put to rest, could find a few hours of sleep himself. The boy nodded half-heartedly and wiped his face with his palm before resting his cheek on one of his knees with a sigh.

“Ye’ve another baby sister,” Jamie told him softly.

“Oh,” Fergus startled, as if he’d forgotten for a moment what all of this was about. “And she’s alright?”

“Aye, she’s bonny,” Jamie beamed, and the corners of Fergus’s mouth curved upward. “She cannae wait tae meet ye.” He smoothed down some of Fergus’s short, riotous curls. “She’s so very wee and all worn out from making her appearance, though, so she’s getting some much needed rest as well,” he added, hoping it would be enough to convince Fergus that he might as well get his own precious few hours of sleep in the meantime.

He tucked Fergus back under the covers, murmuring reminders that he had a papa and maman who loved him very much and two wee sisters now who adored him, and he would see all of them when he woke up. Jamie sealed his words with a kiss to the boy’s head. His gaze went beyond Fergus to where Faith was still curled up under the blankets, snoring softly. A lump rose in his throat.

The greatest joys of his life…

His eyes burned with tears as he turned and quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him. And when he slipped back into the room he shared with Claire, he found her and the babe exactly as he left them. His waking dream was completely undisturbed.

He did fall to his knees then, and on his tongue was a quick and reverent prayer of gratitude to the Almighty that this should be the life that he was given, the life that was restored to him.

 ----------

They slept in fits and starts, fumbling through a once familiar rhythm but with a precious new life. Claire’s eyes squinted open against the early light of morning ‒ the realization that it was already morning had her sleep-addled brain rebelling against the thought ‒ and stared at the empty space in bed beside her.

Her first thought was the baby; she didn’t hear a thing, so why had she awoken?

She shifted in bed and felt every muscle in her body screaming at her in protest. God, it felt like she’d been hit by a car ‒ a thought she’d have to keep to herself when others asked her how she was feeling. Jamie had fetched the baby every time she woke during the night so that Claire wouldn’t have to get out of bed, but even with that consideration, she was still tired and sore all over. It was different than how it had gone with Faith, she realized. With Faith, it had been flashes of terror and a race to save them both. Hardly felt like the labor itself had lasted longer than a minute for all that Claire could remember of it. But with this baby, Claire had labored for almost a full day ‒ and both body and memory could remember every second of it.

Then she heard it ‒ the soft squeaking grunt of a newborn, not quite a cry. Her head lifted from the pillow and swiveled, but the baby wasn’t in her cradle. No, instead, her gaze settled on her bare-chested husband sitting up in a chair with the baby pillowed against him, hardly visible to Claire beneath her blanket. Jamie’s eyes were closed, his head resting on the back of the chair, and she would’ve thought he was asleep if not for the steady rhythm of his fingers gently tapping the baby’s back. He must’ve heard her movement as his eyes opened then and found hers.

A lump rose in her throat, for no other explanation than she couldn’t help the swell of affection for them both, the sight of them so perfect she could weep. “Why are you all the way over there?”

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77 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

the best by far is you: epilogue

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Previous Chapter

Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie’s story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the Battle of Culloden.

Epilogue

June 1750

His wife was still buried under the covers while Jamie moved about the room on quiet feet and got dressed in the soft light of dawn. He reached for his boots, the final article of dress, and caught sight of Claire’s hand rising out of the mess of blankets ‒ reaching out toward him in silent request.

He stopped in his tracks. Straightened back up.

“Don’t get up yet,” she said, her voice still heavy with sleep. “Stay in bed with me.”

His chest tightened and he let out a gentle sigh. “Aye.”

He crawled back onto the bed, fully-dressed save for his boots still, and molded his body against the curve of Claire’s. She let out a sleepy hum when he nuzzled into her wild hair and kissed the back of her neck. There was a time when he might’ve denied her request, felt the need to rush off to the responsibilities of farm life. But he knew now that all of that would keep ‒ for a little while at least ‒ but Claire and the bairns would not.

There was something in her touch, the way her hands clasped tightly over his, keeping his hold on her there, that told him her thoughts were running in tandem with his, reaching the same destination. He held her tighter still, turning his face into the crook of her neck and murmuring all that was in his heart to her, some bits in Gaelic but he thought she knew well enough now to understand his meaning if not the words themselves.

His eyes opened with the soft creak of their bedroom door opening. Of course, he could put off the work of the day for a bit, but the bairns didn’t always give them the same reprieve. “Sleep a little longer, Sassenach,” he whispered against her neck before leaving a parting kiss there. “I’ll get up wi’ her.”

When he rolled over and swung his feet out of bed, he caught sight of the impish wee lass in the doorway, bouncing on her toes already at the prospect of their recent morning routine together.

“Dood morning,” she sung to him, her eyes alight with joy, as he swiftly pulled on his boots and ushered her back through the doorway.

He swung Brianna up into his arms and closed the door behind them. “Good morning, m'annsachd.”

He stepped across the hall and poked his head into the nursery, knowing he would find Faith under the blankets still. Brianna was their only early riser now.

He let Faith be and knocked on Fergus’s door to get him up and moving for the day. Brianna was a warm weight against his chest, waiting patiently until Jamie headed down the stairs with her to the kitchen. A fire had already been started in the hearth, letting Jamie know Murtagh was up and about.

“I can make the parritch, Papa?”

Papa. That was who he was to Fergus, and to Faith, he was simply Da, but Brianna was growing up hearing both names for Jamie and used them interchangeably. Jamie didn’t mind — she’d likely settle on one or the other eventually, and it had never really mattered what his children called him, only that they were his to raise and love and guide.

“Aye, we’ll make it together.” He kissed her soft cheek still flushed from her sleep, and moved about with only one hand free to start on breakfast. His wee Brianna encumbered the process more than helped, but no one else in the household possessed Brianna’s early morning cheerfulness ‒ besides perhaps himself, as Claire often pointed out in mild annoyance ‒ so he got on just fine with the lass as meal preparations were started.

Jamie finally set her down just as Murtagh walked in through the kitchen backdoor.

“Murtagh!” the wee thing cheered and ran to him, throwing her arms around his legs. It was the kind of reaction that would make one think she hadn’t seen her beloved Murtagh in ages. It had been only a matter of hours, most of which she’d slept through. The older man grinned and reached down to smooth her hair, still wild from her sleep. She turned her face and kissed his trouser-clad knee before letting him go.

“Come eat yer parritch, Brianna, and let poor Murtagh come inside.”

“Och, she’s fine,” Murtagh protested, but still herded Brianna towards the table.

With a certain knack for timing his entrance at the moment food was ready, Fergus stumbled out into the kitchen then, silent and sullen and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He sunk into a chair at the table and Jamie wordlessly passed him a bowl, smothering a rueful smile. They’d learned not to engage Fergus too heavily in the morning during this season of his youth.

Claire appeared too, dressed and hair up in place, though a weariness beyond physical exhaustion still lingered in her eyes. She bent to kiss the top of Fergus’s head and then joined them at the table.

There was only one Fraser missing, so Jamie headed up the stairs for the nursery.

“Up ye get, Faith.”

She was still sleeping, but she’d stay in bed all day if they let her. So he scooped her up and carried her down to the kitchen. She was getting older ‒ six already ‒ but Faith was still such a slight thing that Jamie didn't think twice about carrying her around as he always had.

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87 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

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