#let’s just hope no silly parasites were in it thanks

[xinanigans]

Changed my mind…. I like raw fish actually…

#tuna to be exact #it has the texture of raw scallop #let’s just hope no silly parasites were in it thanks #hahahaha… #uhhh server gave me a free 8 pc sushi even though I never ordered it?!? and never charged me???? let’s fucking get it????? #they might’ve gotten the thing I wanted wrong but idc!!! free additional food for compensation I guess?? #also met this guy at the bus stop who wants to be a comedian and cracked a few jokes .. I wish him luck on his career #I love randos who come up to me and strike up conversations!! please continue doing that!!

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Soft Astarion Jealousy

Now with part 2!

I love Ascended Astarion because he's horrible but the sweetness of the other end of the spectrum is impossible to deny. He's just so in love and grateful I can't 🥺🥺

So here's some jealousy that isn't psychotic. Well it is but not as bad:

Astarion never expected to be the jealous type. He always thought...well. In all honesty he never thought about the reality of having a relationship. He didn't even think it was possible for him, let alone the idea that he would actually want it. Even with you, even after he admitted a fraction of his own feelings to himself, he never thought that he would be so... possessive. Though admittedly, he had very good cause for it.

Because you were frustrating. So, so frustrating. For some idiotic reason, you simply didn't understand how alluring to others you really were. You were a pretty little thing, yes but that wasn't the problem. It was so much more than that. And he knew that the others wanted you. Every last one of them. Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Halsin. All of them like moths to a flame. And that wasn't even counting all of the strangers you had met on your journey, the extras that thought they had a shot with your greatness. They all wanted you in ways that made Astarion seethe. And the desire from others wasn't even the kind that he was used to, the kind he understood like the back of his hand. Because you didn't need to seduce to cultivate desire. All you needed to stoke the flames was merely your presence. Experiencing you was all that was required for people to know they wanted more.

Astarion knew that the others weren't just looking for a bedmate, they wanted you for the same reasons he had grown to. Your empathy, your desire to understand those around you. Your fearlessness, your infuriating habit of always trying to do the right thing. They wanted you for your laugh, the way your eyes would crinkle in the corners when your smile was too wide. Your silly jokes, your endless hopefulness for a future. It felt as though everyone around saw you for the gem that you were and it was... concerning. Extremely concerning.

Astarion hated thinking about things like this. He loathed admitting the truth to himself even more. But he was...terrified of losing you to someone else. Especially since it could so easily be done. He was so very lucky that you weren't the brightest, or at least not when it came to matters of the heart. You could do so much better than him, a fact that was incredibly obvious to everyone around you. Everyone but you, a luck that Astarion did not take lightly. But how much time did he have before it ran out? Would it ever?

Perhaps it was delusional, but he was starting to think when all of this was over, assuming neither of you perished anyway, that...it could just be the two of you. Living together, exploring the world, even if it had to be under the cloak of night. Maybe... maybe the two of you could even find a cure for his unsavory condition. The thought itself was incredibly stupid, but then again, it was just as idiotic to believe that there was a cure to the Mind Flayer parasite. But here they were, closer then ever. And if that was such an impossibility turned into reality, perhaps a vampiric cure wasn't so impossible. Or maybe even finding an alternative method for immortality for you, without the downsides of his own. Anything that could just keep you both together, for as long as possible. It was an unrealistic dream, that would never come into fruition. If anything it was dangerous, so very dangerous to even entertain the thought of forever. Especially when your connection was so tenuous.

Astarion would never be stupid enough to thank Cazador for anything but...he'd be lying if he said he wasn't appreciative for his own lack of subtly when it came to seducing you. Even if it originally was for distasteful reasons, it still got him ahead of the pack. If he had been less calculating, less astute, there was a sincere chance that you would be warming someone else's bed at night. Callousness would never be without it's uses, even if it led to uncomfortable situations like his current infatuation.

What would he do when you inevitably wanted to leave? How could he survive after having something so...good. Someone so caring, someone who for some very horrifying reason liked being around him. And the sex... it was fabulous. He was a massive fan of your intimacy, when he was capable of participating in it. He adored it, he adored you, your beauty, the sweet noises he could coax from your mouth, the europhia of being inside of you. Then there was the fact that you could be intimate without any traces of it devolving into lovemaking. He had never been gifted with the ability to say no before, so often and so freely without a single fear of punishment. If anything, it felt like he was rewarded when he was honest with you, when he would share his sudden fits of discomfort in his own body, the memories that plagued him and doomed him to staying stubbornly soft. You would never get angry, never even disappointed. You would just listen and smile, always adorable when you would ask, "But I can stay for a cuddle, can't I?"

An extremely silly question, considering the two of you hadn't spent a night apart from each other since you'd made it to the Shadowlands. Yet it never failed to make him melt.

It was getting worse, these feelings. He just wanted you around, by his side, constantly. Constant enough for him to get the ridiculous urge to hiss at anyone else who dared to come near you. He felt an intense need to protect the closeness the both of you had cultivated, the kind that he had never been allowed before. He had no interest in sharing you with your own friends when it came down to it, let alone another lover.

Which is precisely why his original, mild distaste for Halsin turned into a full-blown hatred the night he had the gall to proposition you.

It had felt like a shard of ice going through his chest when you bounded over to him, laughing about one of his greatest fears coming much too close to reality, "You won't believe the conversation Halsin and I just had-"

"Ah, I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that," Astarion laughed, purposefully interrupting you. He had no desire to hear the specifics of that conversation. He didn't even want to be having this conversation, where you were inevitably going to ask if it was okay to explore someone else.

The answer was no. Never would he be okay with it, allowing someone else to be close to what should have been his. But he needed to think strategically here. To say no could be disasterous. If it became a game of choice between him and Halsin... he's almost certain he would lose. Halsin was everything he wasn't; caring, giving, sharing in your worldviews in a way that Astarion never could. He couldn't risk it, he wouldn't. Having you at all was better than nothing.

"But I'd never even consider something like that-"

"It's fine," Astarion interrupts again, the fakest smile he can muster plastered on his face. The pain was worth the risk mitigation, he was sure of that. But... he still had to ask, "But is this because we haven't...y'know, in awhile?"

A sick part of him prays that you'll say yes. Because if that's the reason, he could do something about it. He could force himself if need be to always tend to your needs. Especially if it meant keeping you to himself. It was such a small sacrifice in comparison to the rest of his life. He would do it in a heartbeat if you demanded, anything to just make you stay.

But that was not the answer he received. Instead you frowned, looking him up and down, "What? No, I-Astarion no. Please don't think that. What we have together is so special to me. The physical part of it is lovely, perfect even. But...it's not what we are."

It's almost comforting to hear you say that. But then why did that make the situation feel so much worse? If it wasn't sex you were after then that certainly meant you wanted more with Halsin as well, did it not? But it was too late to rescind it now.

Astarion nodded, a confused mixture of hurt and gratefulness swirling through him, "I just needed to know. But if you're satisfied with me and just want to explore, go right ahead. I'll be here when you're done."

You nodded slowly, brow furrowed when you asked, "So...we aren't exclusive then?"

"No, of course not," Astarion confirmed, ignoring everything inside of him that was screaming for him to take it all back, "We can be as open as you'd like."

"I see..." You said, trailing off with a frown. You coughed into your hand, looking up at him sharply. Sharp enough for him to be sincerely confused, "Does this mean that you'll be speaking to me before you explore your other options?"

"I-yes? If you want?" Astarion answered, a new type of unease settling in his chest. You didn't seem very happy with this conversation, despite his best attempts to give you what you wanted. Where had he gone wrong? Was he already working to throw you into the arm's of another man, without even trying?

You were still frowning at him, your look cold in a way that made him feel particularly ill, "Please do. I'd like to know everything. I'm going to speak to Halsin, get this all sorted. We can talk later."

And then you were spinning on your heel and marching away, like Astarion was the offensive party here. It made no sense. He had done it all right, hadn't he? Agreed to it immediately, didn't make you feel guilty, had tried to be what you wanted. How had he failed?

He didn't wait around to see you go to Halsin. Instead he went straight back to his tent, closing the flap as he laid down. Great. Fantastic. Now he would have to be aware, perhaps even hear you being with another, while simultaneously reliving that horrid conversation in his head for the entire night. The hurt and worry was making his mind wander to uncomfortable places. Perhaps...Halsin could be dealt with in another way if things became too serious between the two of you.

Would poisoning the man be too extreme?

But before Astarion had the time to start thinking of a more detailed plan he was interrupted. Suddnely, moonlight was filling his tent, with your silleoute shining in the darkness.

He blinked up at you, confused, "What are you doing here?"

You frowned at him, looking hesitant in the entry way, "Should I not be? I thought-I can go if you'd like."

"No!" Astarion blurted out, loud and desperate enough to make him cringe. He cleared his throat, trying again, his voice still a touch too pitiful for his liking, "No, no, come here darling. Of course you're always welcome. I just assumed you would be busy."

To his relief you listened, crawling into the bedroll next to him. Astarion didn't waste any time in wrapping his arms around you, relieved to humiliating degrees that you had chosen to come back after the deed. Though...you didn't quite smell as he had thought you would. There were no traces of the floral, woodsy smell of the druid on your skin. Just the sweet, pleasant scent that he had grown so fond of.

You sighed as he tucked you against him, the warmth of you enough to make him relax for the first time that night. You laid together in a pleasant quiet, one that Astarion was actually scared to disturb. Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to know what happened between the two of you.

But you broke the silence for him, muttering into his chest after the two of you were settled, "I'm...sorry for being snappish earlier. I shouldn't have been. You didn't do anything wrong, and I know I don't own you. I shouldn't have assumed."

Astarion frowned, pulling back to get a proper look at your face. You looked hurt, sad even. Like you were the one who had gotten their heart broken. He could feel a curl of distaste settling in his stomach, annoyed that this felt as though the situation was being placed back to him. He had played his part, perfectly. What more could you ask for? What was there to assume?

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Astarion carefully said, his eyes fixed on every micro expression on your face, "What did I do that could have been construed as incorrect?"

"Nothing!" You rushed to say, shame coloring your cheeks, "I was being stupid. You never promised me anything. I just...assumed. Wrongly that we were something we aren't."

That didn't-he-what? Astarion frowned at her, his confusion evident on his face, "What did you think we were?"

You looked uncomfortable, avoiding his gaze when you answered, "I thought that we were...together. Alone. Just us. But if that's not what you want I understand. It's fine-"

"What in the hells are you talking about?" Astarion blurted out, his anger and pain bubbling to the surface, "I haven't done a thing. And we were just us before you decided to galivant off with a bear of a man!"

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. So much for playing things safely. No, he couldn't even have the self-control to stay quiet. He always had to ruin everything.

But surprisingly, you didn't look angry. If anything you seemed just as confused as he felt, "What? I didn't-we didn't do anything! When did I say I wanted to do anything with Halsin? You were the one saying you didn't care!"

You weren't making any damn sense, "Well why else would you ask me about it?"

"I didn't!" You huffed, glaring at him, "All I was going to say was that he asked me. And I wanted your help on how to best turn him down! And then you jumped at the chance to push me onto someone else-"

"I did nothing of the sort!" Astarion seethed back, "If it was up to me you would never look at another man again! Or woman for that matter!"

It was an odd feeling, to be arguing while holding each other so closely. But Astarion had no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if he could feel you squirming against his ironclad grip when you fumed at him, "Then why would you say it was okay?!"

"Because I don't want you to leave me!" He shouted back, loud enough to snap him out of his own anger. All of his fury was instantly replaced with fear. Gods, why had he felt the need to say that? To lay his biggest insecurity out on the line. Why not just hand you a stake while he was at it, since he was so eager to give you the tools to destroy him.

But you were still seething, hissing back at him, "Why praytell, would I leave the man I've been in love with for months? Hm? Please, explain it to me!"

Astarion couldn't. He was too busy being shell-shocked at the confession, feeling too many emotions at once. Joy, relief, somehow even more fear than before. You so freely said the words that he had done his damndest to bury, to ignore. But now they were out there, filling him with a horrifying joy.

He wanted to say it back. He did. But he couldn't get the wrecthed words out. Instead he was just staring at you like an imbeicle, his mouth hanging opening at the confession.

But his silence didn't make you falter. Instead you looked determined, near fierce as you grasped his face into your warm hands, "I love you Astarion. You don't have to say it back. That's not what this is about. But I want you. And only you. If you want the same of me then you must tell me. Now."

Astarion let his hands flutter over your wrists, humiliating tears prickling at his eyes. But at least his vocal chords allowed him to answer you this time, "I do. So much more than you know. I want us. Just us. No one else."

The words were flowing out of him, too fast and sincere for him to make the appropriate edits in his head. He was saying too much, feeling too much, giving too much. But the way your eyes brightened at his words, the way you grinned at him before pulling him in for a sweet kiss made it suddenly feel like he wasn't giving anything up at all.

As much as he loathed to admit it, Astarion was exceedingly grateful for Halsin's existence after that night. He would never have had the gall to demand you to himself without a trigger, without the anger you both shared at being misunderstood. Because now, you were his. His alone, the proclamation coming from your own lips. And he was free to stop hiding how much he had wanted it. How willing he was to do anything to keep it. He let himself off his own leash after that, leaning completely into the mutual ownership you had of each other. No more would he silently sit back and seethe as a stranger flirted with you. No, now he'd be upfront and center, with a possessive hand around your waist as he glared them down, more than prepared with a confidence-shattering quip on his tongue.

He started to let all of his urges seep through, taking full advantage of your willingness. If Wyll looked at you for too long at the fire, with a touch of something that Astarion didn't like in his eyes, he'd effortlessly pull you into his lap onlookers be damned as breathed you in. If Gale suddenly had a suspect offer to teach you some new magic in a secluded location, Astarion would invite himself, impervious to any glares sent his way. And when he felt as though all of them were being a bit too flirtaious, he was more than happy to put them in their places at night. Spending hours upon hours making you scream his name in bed from pleasure, loud enough for everyone to hear and know exactly who you belonged to.

He couldn't care less if it added to his own unpopularity amongst their merry-band of rejects. Their opinions didn't matter. Not when you were eating all of the sudden attention up.

You let him do it all because you understood him, in ways that no one else had bothered to before. You knew who he was, what he wanted, the extent to how much he craved your attention. And you let it all happened, reveled in it even. The intense shows of affection. Because you loved him. And he loved you. And one of these days he'd allow himself to admit the obvious.

But for now, he had what he wanted. What he needed. And in the first time in his life, even with disgusting tadpoles squirming his his brain, Astarion was actually...happy.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fic #long fic #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #may add a dirty part two here #dirty sweet

[marchiekana]

I think your requests are open ? I rarely ever ask anything so I have no idea on how it works. My request though is about an s/o with an above average body heat, a literal heater with Tingyun Kafka and if possible Serval. Have a nice day pal.

Ahhhh that would be soo cute!! But here you go, I hope you like it!

Your warmth.

Kafka x reader

Tingyun x reader

Serval x reader

Stelle x reader

Added Stelle cuz she my skrunkly- wunkly-dumpster diving, trash eating, little gremlin racoon♡

✨ fluff, slightly suggestive, established relationships, kisses mwah mwah

Requests are open

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Kafka

Kafka is in LOVE. Why wouldn't she be? You're basically her very own little personal heater❤️.

After a mission or a rough day she'd be right by your side, hugging you like her life depends on it. And who are you to refuse?(you better not.)

Kafka is definitely a clingy women. So every chance she gets she's either holding your hands or clinging on to you. She lets herself relax as she basks in your warmth. A light and happy feeling coursing through her as she does so.

And this women is SHAMELESS. She'll be touching you all the time. Be it your hands or your thighs or anywhere in that matter. She just needs to have her hands on you. Your so warm and nice and warm and fuzzy and warm. She just loves you too much😔

So much for a so called criminal huh🙁

Tingyun

The weather on the Xianzhou was always perfect. But that didn't stop her. Oh not at all.

She'd probably like lying her head on your tummy or your chest as she goes on spilling all the tea about her colleagues or her friends.(I'm in delulu era)

She usually loves sleeping on your chest cus she can hear your heartbeat and that's so sweet.

Tingyun too, is a clingy women me thinks. She hugs you whenever she wants, wherever she wants. (You better hug her back)She doesn't care about the looks the people give you both. You just feel so warm that she can't resist.

Oh and how she'd miss your warmth when she's out on business trips, she'd definitely call you daily to tell you how much she misses you and also to complain about her customers.

Serval

Winters in Belobog were cold even though there were several heaters placed everywhere. But Serval's got nothing to worry cause you're there! Good for her.

She'd wake up to your adorable face with a smile every morning. And as you stir awake she'd hug you and wish you good morning with the biggest smile on her face.

She holds your hand at every opportunity she gets and making her let go is a whole task for real. Even when she's kissing you for what seems like hours, she never stops cupping your cheeks. She enjoys how flustered you become and how your face is warmer than usual now. Thanks to her little smooches.

And on cold nights she's basically using you as a blanket. (Mode change, human blanket form!!.) You don't mind tho.( You better not)

(i can't decide if she's a girlboss or a girl failure.)

Stelle

I like to believe that Stelle has either a really cold body or a hot one(heh, get it? Cus-)due to the stelleron inside her. So let's just think she has a colder body rn

You are now Stelle's energy source. No questions asked and no negotiations. (Why would you even?)

After every mission, she's dragging you back to your room or hers to cuddle with you the whole day, your warmth giving her comfort and in her words, healing her.

On cold nights on the express, when she's feeling down she's relieved that you're always there by her side. Your warmth comforting her, literally.

You'd have to scold her and push her away sometimes when she tries to hug you after doing her daily routine of trashcan hunting tho. (i wouldn't really care if it's her tho. I'm down BAD) please don't hurt her feelings ,😔 she just bit silly.

Also. This girls gonna be latching on to you like a parasite all the time. There is not a moment she leaves you alone. But you're fine with that.(you better be.)

She'd also have her hands all over you all the time. There is never a time when she's not fumbling with your hair or your hands, sometimes trying to put her hands on yout chest(she would give a lame excuse like "oh i just wanted feel your heartbeat " Like.... girl?)she completely ignored your protests and acts innocent. She just likes how warm you are. It's like you we're meant for her ♡

(like mother like daughter)

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I'm in my delulu era again.

Women.

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© marchiekana do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize my work.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

#honkai star rail #honkai imagines #kafka x you #kafka x reader #kafka hsr #kafka honkai star rail #hsr kafka #tingyun #tingyun x reader #honkai tingyun #serval #serval honkai star rail #serval hsr #serval x you #serval x reader #bronya #bronya honkai star rail #bronya hsr #bronya x reader

[justporo]

Hey Poro. I don't recall you ever talking about your Tav. Do you have any posts about them or any cool info you wanna share? (Saw you were open to asks, so I thought I'd drop one hæhæ)

Oh yes, hello! I guess you're right. And that although she's the Tav in most all of my stories (especially my longform fics).

So let me introduce my wonderful girl to you. And yes: her name is indeed just Tav. Don't come for me - I didn't plan for any of this but now here we are. I am just Poro and she is just Tav.

I'm always happy about questions about my girl tho - I do have a background story and all flashed out for her. I just... never talked about it??

Oh, and she's been my profile pic from very early one, I am still in love with the wonderful drawing @azaani-art did of her!

Full Name: Tav (yes, that's it, maybe she takes on Ancunín sometime, eh?) Race: Woodelf Class: Ranger (Urban tracker background) Height: 5'5 Pronouns: She/Her

More about her personality and backstory below the cut!

Personality: She's witty, rebellious, will stab you if the need arises or pickpocket all your gold if you're mean to her. But she still believes that there's ultimately good in the world. A hope that sometimes makes her take stupid and naive risks. And never has she experienced a love like she has with Astarion - and she's sure she'll never will again. Might be it started as a silly crush because she never experienced someone giving her this kind of attention, but now... She'd kill for him and die for him - although she'd very much prefer the first.

Story: Tav was the daughter to a loveless affair of a very high-up wood elf noble, her father, and her high-elf mother from Baldur's Gate. Immediately abandoned by her mother after birth on the steps of a cloister in the city where she spent the first few years of her life. A life where she was treated harshly from the very first steps on she could take. So still being a child, she fled the abuse and started to live on the streets of Baldur's Gate where she not only had to grow up quickly but learn how to be proficient with sleight of hand, stealth and running away as fast as possible when the former two skills weren't enough. She always did what it takes even though it meant making objectively stupid decisions. She's hardened, cold, with a sharp tongue and violent if need be to those she perceives as a threat because you had to be if you didn't want to be taken advantage off as a woman. But this also means she's made herself unapproachable, so never really has she experienced someone giving her attention for anything but her skillset, complimenting her, wooing her. But to those she perceives as her friends or close ones she's a helpless people-pleaser and pushover rising from a desperate desire to not be left alone again; deeply believing she's only worth as much as she can be of use. She joined a band of thieves for which she and her friends she found there took on highbrow heists - until the day Tav was taken and a parasite in her brain but much more a sassy vampire shook her and her beliefs to the core.

A few more funfacts:

the piercings she has, she's done herself (thank the gods she didn't die of an infection

the tattoos she has she had done very young when she felt rebellious after she first found out about her real father - back then she thought it would make her look fierce; now she knows it was a little stupid but they're a part of her now; Astarion likes to let his thumbs run along them and calls her his "little fiend"

her main role during her thieving times was stakeout and keeping an eye on the others from above with her bow - during long and boring stakeout times she picked up drawing as a hobby: she just drew what she saw, so she could keep an eye on stuff but also busy herself

the scar is from her time when she first fled the cloister and joined a group of street kids (all boys) and she was repeatedly forced to show how brave she was; always having to be at least twice as couragous as the others just to make up for her being a girl

she has a definite problem with authorities

and she could probably drink you under the table

she's not good at taking care of herself, so Astarion calls her his street cat - and has to teach her a thing or two about self-care

#OC #my Tav #Tav #bg3 tav #baldurs gate #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #meet my Tav #fox

[xxzlushiez]

hi ml! i hope you’re doing well today!

i wasn’t sure if you did requests for georg but i have a request for him! could you possibly just do something where the reader has rlly bad anxiety and georg knows about it so he holds her hand when he can tell she’s anxious :( you can do whatever you want with this ❤️ if you don’t want to write this or don’t feel comfy writing this you don’t have to!!! do what makes you comfortable! <3 thank you!

All's okay

G. Listing x F! Reader

Synopsis: Anxiety gets to all of us at some point, thankfully you have Georg to help you rewind

Notes: angst if you squint reallllllly hard, comfort, self-doubt, insecurities, fluff, Georg being a sweetie pie :(, Name's anxiety, hints at depression.

A/N: this is the cutest request ever! TYSM and I hope your day is going amazing Anon!! I'm starting to do all of you guy's requests so be ready for a lot of spam posting😭❤️❤️

"I'm just spacing out I need someone to catch me I need someone to catch me." Spacing out -> beabadoobee

Anxiety is a fickle thing that comes in at the worst times. Not that it's really noticeable to anyone but yourself but when you're around people for an extended amount of time it's natural that along the way you pick up on these types of things. This is what happened after Georg got close with you.

He's naturally observant and sees when you shift from being comfortable to not, or how you got before interviews and concerts. It was a little unfamiliar to him. Sure, everyone got nervous and dealt with it in their own ways but it seemed like you just wanted to shut down when faced with a problem you didn't immediately have a solution for. He saw this happen a few times before he tried to step in and help you.

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Silently, you paced out your dressing room, it was 10 minutes before a big concert and your nerves were beginning to creep up on you like a ugly parasite. This happened often, your brain doubled down on the false fact that unlike the others you weren't as good, not as talented, unworthy to be in the band.

You joined a few years later than the other members, nonetheless you were treated with respect and were close with everyone, but your mind came up with the silly thought that you weren't good enough for them. When you thought about it, it was really stupid but at the moment it was intimidating.

A knock snapped you out of your thoughts and you hummed opening the door for the person behind it.

"Hey, whatcha up to, the show starts in like 5 minutes are you ready?"

You followed the bassist to where he sat down on the couch, thinking of an answer that would satisfy him.

"Yeah, I'm ready just you know giving myself a peptalk."

You were transparent, he could read you like a children's book, but you still tried to lie, which was confusing because you both knew he could see right through you.

"Do you mean a down talk?"

"a what...?'

"That sounded really stupid my bad, what I mean is are you getting all up in your thoughts again?"

You hummed, of course it was noticable, he knew you like he knew the back of his hand. You decided telling the truth was better than just bottling it up and having to deal with it the rest of the time. You let your head rest on the back of the couch.

"Yeah, I don't know, just the usual stuff but it's just so annoying like why is my mind making up all these stupid thoughts that I know aren't true"

He thought for a second before answering you, he knew being careful with his words was crucial so as not to worry you anymore than you already were.

" You know that those are just stupid thoughts, right? They aren't true and you know it."

You that familiar frustration building up tightening your around your neck and burning your eyes. You felt like a burden, he shouldn't have to do this just for you to feel okay with yourself, but he did and no matter how angry you got at yourself, you knew you appreciated it more than words.

You groaned covering your face with one hand before standing up and shaking the pins and needles out of your body, Georg following suite watching that familiar facade of yours come up again.

"Name come here"

He grabbed you by the arm and pulled you against his chest, letting out a deep sigh you wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the warmth and security he gave you that made your stomach all fuzzy and warm, feeling the anxiety melt right off you.

"Okay...okay yeah I'm good. Let's go the rest are probably waiting, thanks Georg"

He gave you a quick squeeze of the hip before opening your dressing door letting you walk out and following after.

----------

You noticed how he had one hand rest to his side near you during the interview using the other to gesture when talking instead of both. Let you lay it in your lap and play with it instead of being consumed in your thoughts. You noticed when he would tighten his grip on your hand to grab your attention when it was your turn to answer questions, or how he would lay a hand on your leg when you unconsciously began to bounce it. Everyone also took notice but you didn't mind and neither did he, that's all that mattered.

It's the small things that count.

#gustav #tom #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz #angst #georg #x reader #bill #tumblr #georg x reader #georg x f reader #georg listing x reader #georg listing #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x reader #fluff #comfort #reverse comfort #comfort for anxiety #self doubt #insecurites #Gustav schafer #tokio hotel fanfic #kaulitz twins #writing #bill x reader #drabble #fanfic

[gemwolfz]

good morning chat (<- it's 12:30 pm) its time for a GEM FROG WATCHPOST (instead of putting it in the bg while i draw because ive accepted i cant draw and read at the same time)

btw my very legal straming site doesnt have episode descriptions and no way im remembering an episode thats been mentioned by number so i have no idea what im getting into. also im setting a timer to truly see how long my autistic ass can stretch a 15 minute episode. ok lets get started :)

okay first of all intro i havent seen yet lets GOOOO. PURURU SIGHTING IN THERE HEY GIRL!! i actually need to watch some eps with pururu in em btw. like hey show her to me. anyway good intro lots of guys spotted :)

^ CATEGORY 5 DORORO EVENT HI. experiencing the horrors as usual i see

i see so this is what we're doing today huh. do you intend to rip my heart out.

im sorry they have a fucking invasion planning chore wheel? thats really funny

OH IT'S THIS ONE HUH. THIS IS WHAT WE'RE DOING HUH (lovingly)

wcdonalds btw. sorry sorry wcdonalds cracks me up every time in any show

^^ his ass did NOT process what was just said!!!

he had it right the first several times cmon man.

hes taking this in stride huh. even in category 5 THE LORE situations the silly grind doesnt stop

why is zeroro resonance so fucking stupid btw. sorry man.

screenshot that speaks for itself man

somehow i dont think "my alien ninja partner is in serious trouble i need to leave immediately" will be counted as an excused absence by your teachers but after scaling a building in a single leap i dont think anybodys gonna question you. i love you koyuki

[this image set broke in the editor but it included keroro and tamama calling zeroro SO MEAN for not explaining his plan to them] frankly i respect keroros unwillingness to treat situations with the proper gravity because i do the same thing king

his ass does not care

he changed his mind something is terribly wrong

okay lets be real here the platoon would NOT have found him there. if he hadn't been able to contact koyuki he'd have been fucked. badly. something something being saved again by the person who showed you the warmth and beauty the planet has to offer

literally yeah the fate of the planet is held by natsumi being able to throw frogs like splat balls. pov youre giroro and the number one person standing between you guys and invasion is decidedly the girl who is constantly personally stopping you from blowing shit up. this is a personal attack

important and relevant but also im sorry "brat" is incredibly funny word choice coming from tamama

no reaction i can put into words. btw this episode is labelled as a filler episode. just so you know. i just think thats funny. haha so silly

aye.......................................... i would be using more reaction images but i have to prioritize screenshots. anyway god.

they were holding their fucking BREATH. his ass could have died!! badly!!! their deep sigh of relief is not as visible as i'd have hoped but you know. you feel me.

there are reactions i am making that are sound effects i cannot put into words sorry. im better at posting silly nonsense im sure you understand. hell, post horse staring at the ocean MAN again

he goes "i'm sorry about that, everyone!" as if it was fucking nothing. DUDE. This is why you caught that trauma-eating brain parasite because you just act like shit was NOTHING DUDE...

........yea...........................

NO EYECATCH OR ANYTHING? YOURE JUST GONNA TAKE US TO THE NEXT EPISODE? OKAY. OKAY THATS FINE. THAT'S FINE.

gem conclusion:

anyway i spent an hour watching this ten minute episode. sorry for maybe a weak reaction post i need to stir this episode in my head like a soup. thank you plates for your recommendation. join me in the rbs later as i may watch episode B and experience whatever tonal whiplash this episode came with

#sgt frog #keroro gunso #liveblogging #Youtube

[3dnygma]

If doors could scream (Welcome Home one-shot)

POV: you are a sentient house

Characters: Wally Darling & Home, Robert Dorelaine, no romantic/sexual relationship

Teen & Up Audiences, Angst, Existential Horror (more tags on AO3)

Words: 949

AO3 Link

If doors could scream, you think to yourself, then these creatures would never have a restfull night.

But your doors can't scream - they can only creek. So you creek and you snarl and let your windows fly open on a stormy night. Anything to at the very least inconvenience the parasite nesting within your organs that he calls "furniture".

Once, you tried breaking one of your own windows to see what would happen if his skin was cut open with your glass shards.

In the end, it wasn't worth having the postman over the following day, poking around your frames for hours in order to fix them and sewing the monster's wound shut, which had some fiber sticking out of it with no blood in sight.

And of course, there was the pain. You didn't know that breaking glass would feel as if breaking a human bone. A stabbing sensation, reinforced whenever even the slightest breeze would soar through your exposed frames. That's what breaking a human boned used to feel like, right? You remember once breaking a leg when you were younger, although you don't quite remember how. Back then, you were still going by Ronald Dorelaine.

But him? He didn't at all seem affected by the wound you had given him. Because, supposedly, life would have been somewhat fair if you had managed to cause him a fraction of the pain that he has been caused you over the years.

You think about that night - and all your other desperate attempts to garner some sort of revenge. And while you are lost in your thoughts, he opens his mouth.

"Good night, Home. Sleep well."

There it is. That voice you practiced for days while staring in the mirror and hoping that the movement of your puppet's mouth would match your words perfectly. You had modelled the voice after your uncle Fitz and yourself, two tender creatives. It was monotone, yet light, with a dreamy nature. Back then, you had no idea how horrifying it could sound.

You take it in, sliding the sofa back and forth around your livingroom, accompanied by some creaking of your eastern walls. In this complex language you've aquired over the years, that means: You imbecile.You know I don't sleep. When have you ever witnessed me sleeping?

He chuckles. "I had a wonderful day, thanks for asking! Barnaby and I went to Howdy's store. Howdy was missing some crabs...I don't know why Howdy has crabs, but he does. Anyway, Barnaby and I looked for them aaaall around Home. It was really fun! Howdy was really happy ... when we got them back. Then, he gave us hotdogs! They were really good."

I don't care, you utter through a creeking floorboard in the bedroom. Why should I care about your day if all I can do with mine is bending some walls?

"Yes, it was a very nice day. But every day in Home ... is a nice day! I can't wait to find out what will happen tommorrow. And the day after tomorrow ... and the day after that!"

You ruined my life. I wish I had never created you. You're not Wally. You're a demon! Yes, it must have been Satan that offered me that deal. And now he is controlling your limbs instead of me. Don't you remember? I made you! I sewed you out of my mother's yellow fleece blanket! And this is how you repay me? By turning my legs into pillars and my head into a rooftop? Fuck you! I hope you swallow some of your paint and choke on it!

"Haha. Silly Home ... Please don't swear. It's not very nice ... to use bad words."

You and every single one of your planks freeze. Did he just-

"What is it, Home? Are you ... surprised? Do you think that ... I can't hear you? Well, I can! Most times, I just don't feel like ... answering. You are just so boring and ... repetitive. Haha."

That laugh causes your drain pipes to shake.

He gets out of bed, with his dainty robes and nightcap on. Then, he scratches the insides of your walls. If this still was your human body, you would compare the sensation to a cockroach crawling through your intestines. Now, you finally realize that he has been doing this intentionally.

His voice splits into two ends, rubbing at eachother like a squeaking chalkboard. "You must remember, Home. We made you. Without us, there would be no Welcome Home on the Tee-Vee. You wanted this ... yes? You wanted ... to be heard and seen ... on the Tee-Vee. You wanted everybody to feel your love ... deep inside of them. And soon, they will all feel it ... just like you! Many friends and fun voices, deep in their hearts."

Your walls and floors are shaking - and yet, he happily walks back to his bed, not paying the breakdown that his house is currently experiencing any mind.

"And until then ... we will have ... lots of fun, together!" His voice stabilizes itself once more. "Tomorrow, everybody from Home will visit us. Barnaby, Frank, Sally, ... the whole gang. They will all be here, on your floors, in your rooms. It will be fun! Well, for you it will hurt ... but it will be fun!"

He pauses.

"That's all. See you tomorrow, Home."

Then, he is fast asleep.

One floor down, your sink leaks a few droplets splashing down the drain. Your rooftop trembles ever so slightly, trying to not to wake up the monster inhabiting your insides. You now have these late hours to yourself, before that horrific cycle starts again tomorrow.

If houses could cry, I'm sure there would be a tragedy written in your name.

#hellooo this is my first fanfic in a while hope you guys enjoyed it #welcome home #welcome home fanfic #wally darling #robert dorelaine #home (welcome home arg) #horror fanfic #welome home* #my writing #my fanfic #mine

[thessalian]

Astrid vs Favours for Friends

On the road

Astrid: And we're sure your devil came this way?

Wyll: Absolutely. Just ... oh. That looks bad.

Astrid: Oh. Oh dear. He looks bad.

Badly Mauled Dwarf: You ... Pure ... servants of the Absolute... *dies*

Astrid: Um ... Shadowheart, I don't think words of healing are going to cut it for this.

Dwarf's Companions: Command us! What do we do now?

Astrid: Maybe ... don't stand around to get mauled by owlbears?

Dwarf's Companions: As you say! *exit, stage Somewhere Else*

Gale: This is getting stranger by the--Astrid, what are you doing?!?

Astrid: *digging parasite out of dead dwarf ocular socket* Something incredibly gross and that I really don't want to be doing but guess what? BRAIN-WORM DOESN'T FUCKING CARE!

Shadowheart; Gale; Wyll: Owowowow!

Astrid: Oh. I did the voice again, didn't I. Sorry. Look, just ... can we move on from this? This is really gross.

Gale: ...I hope she's going to be alright. She's not the sort that deals well with ... that ... sort of thing.

Shadowheart: I spy the perfect solution. *taps Astrid on the shoulder* There's a dog over there that looks in desperate need of comfort...

Astrid: ...........Puppy! *nyoom*

Gale; Wyll: .....................

Shadowheart: Shar doesn't bless stupid clerics.

A little further on, in a fort sort of half full of paladins of Tyr

Anders: Some devil-woman did this! I want her head!

Wyll: Karlach. Typical. Point the way.

Anders: I ... was going to offer you this sword if you bring back her head, so--

Astrid: It's ... sort of not necessary? We were going to do this anyway? Because ... you know, reasons? Also I don't think any of us can heft that thing since we made the githyanki go bye-bye.

Shadowheart: More like "githyanki go splat-spurt", but as you like.

Anders: If you bring me her head I am giving you this sword and you are not arguing with me about it.

Astrid: How about I just point you to the body so you have some piece of mind, and you keep your big stabby thing?

Anders: *glares*

Astrid: Okay, okay! Yeesh.

And, a little ways down the river

Astrid: ...She's got one of these parasites too? Were they having some kind of sale?

Wyll: Wait. I'm not sure she's strictly speaking a ... devil, as I understand them, from what I'm seeing in her head. But--

Astrid: Look, I don't know what's going on or what set you to killing her in the first place, but ... remember about sixty metres of carnage spread hell-for-breakfast across the road, and the bridge, and the inn?

Karlach: ...Fuck.

Stabnation: *ensues*

Later, at camp

Minora: Hello there!

Astrid: Um ... who invited the literal demon? I mean, phenomenal entrance, but ... you know, if you'd let me know you were coming, I would have set out another plate.

Wyll: ...Astrid, this is Minora, my ... my patron. Minora, this is Astrid, the apparent leader of this merry band of misfits.

Minora: Anyway, puppy, I just wanted to thank you for taking care of that silly little tiefling for me--

Wyll: So she really was a-- But you said it was just--!

Astrid: Wyll. Chill. Gnolls are kind of nasty but they are not finger painting materials. Though you could have just told me you're a warlock.

Wyll: I guess I thought ... well, if you knew where I got my powers, it'd be ... well...

Astrid: Wyll. Sweetie. I got my powers through the incredible power of swear words. We all have some weird.

Minora: ...Look, just take the shiny armour, remember the pact still stands, and I'll be in touch.

Astrid: *shouting down the literall hole to hell* Please call first, with a list of dietary requirements! We don't do souls, though; sorry!

Wyll: You are taking this remarkably well.

Astrid: Mind flayer tadpole. *taps temple* In head. Everything else is just icing on the Weird Cake.

Camp again, after a particularly hard day

Everybody: *apparently sleeping peacefully*

Astarion: *creeeeeeeps up to Astrid*

Astrid: *eyes still closed* Consent is a thing, Astarion...

Astarion: Oh. Shit. No, it's not what you think!

Astrid: I think you were going to suck my blood, is what I think.

Astarion: ...Oh. So it is what you think. How did you--?

Astrid: The "being in sun, crossing running water, crossing thresholds without an invitation" thing threw me for awhile, but remember, I got within head-butting distance of those teeth. Also I saw one of your meals - exsanguinated boar was not the ugliest thing I saw out there today, by the way. So ... I figured I guess you're trying to feed on me because you don't want to eat redcaps, or swamp rats like your master might have made you--

Astarion: ...Wait. You just dug that out of my head.

Astrid: Sorry, but ... even if I don't like using the various little niggles this parasite seems to be giving me ... you and I both know you were going to lie to me.

Astarion: Look, my master made me eat vermin, yes, but no, ordinarily I'd be fine to hunt! Just I left it too long and am too weak to hunt properly ... and also yes, you're right, anything I'd eat from here would probably poison me.

Astrid: Well, you could have asked first.

Astarion: I mean, yes, but honestly, you would have said no, and--

Astrid: *raises eyebrows*

Astarion: Wait. You ... wouldn't ... have said no?

Astrid: You remember that whole thing where everyone complains about my being an altruist? But yeah, that's why I started with 'consent is a thing, Astarion'. We need ground rules and a safe word but I don't want you to starve.

Astarion: ...Hot dog.

Astrid: Also because it keeps your fangs off Scratch.

The next morning

Wyll: You let him WHAT?!?

Gale: My sentiments precisely.

Shadowheart: I mean ... probably better this way, because we'd all just stake him, but ... if you kill her--

Astarion: I know, I know, smear across the landscape. Not that it'd be noticeable in this swamp anyway, but I take your point. I won't overstay my welcome in that regard.

Astrid: Oof. Yeah, that can't be a too-often thing. I'm glad that the success of most of what I cast is down to them resisting, not me having to aim anything...

Shadowheart: *glares at Astarion* I've got your back with Guidance cantrips. But ... how about we take on that hag after you've had a rest and some red meat? Replenish what you've lost, hmm?

Astarion: Aww, but you heard her. Most of hers is about resisting, and I would love to kill something right now.

Gale: Fine. But she gets to perch in the shadows slinging arrows ... or insults, whatever takes her fancy, and you get to be right in something's face!

Astarion: *griiiiiiins*

Gale: While I wish Astrid had said something sooner, I have to wonder why we didn't see this sooner. I mean, look at him!

Astrid: ...Gale? You ... should really pay more attention to the reading material I hand you...

Gale: Wait. What? *digs through expanded book collection* ..."Dhampir For Dummies"?

Astrid: Well, I wasn't going to actually out him; that's rude! Making sure you had all the information needed to connect the dots, though? That's common sense.

Gale: You've known her ... slightly longer than I have. Is this just ... how she is?

Shadowheart: Yes.

Astarion: Look, if you really want honesty, just consider that her blood is delicious, and if she dies? I don't get it anymore. If you can't believe anything good about me, how about believing that I will always, eternally act in my own self-interest, and that means protecting the leader and face-person who also happens to have truly ambrosial blood, hmm? If you need help imagining that, please understand that her safe word is "knickerweasels".

Gale: ...We should go after that hag. I think Astarion needs to recognise what he's in for if he presses his luck.

Wyll: Oh... you mean when she threw two redcaps about five metres with Thunderwave by clapping her hands together and shouting ... what was it, "yeet"?

Astrid: ...It worked with goblins. Redcaps are similarly aerodynamic.

Astarion: Oh I have to see this let's go kill something!

Gale: Right. So cheerfulness is a blood-borne pathogen. Good to know.

#Thess liveblogs Baldur's Gate 3 #Astrid the Bard #Baldur's Gate 3 spoilers

[rcksmith]

Mine — Kaz Brekker

(photo not mine)

Requests: “9 from the fluff prompts with Kaz brekker please? It could be where they're keeping it a secret and it slips out? Thanks”

“Could you possibly do a kaz brekker and reader imagine where they are both like in their mid twenties. Number 9 from the fluff prompts “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?" "No, that girl is my wife”, I could just imagine him with the smuggest grin saying it. Your a very good writer and thank you if you decide to write this.”

“Could I get a kaz brekker x reader secret relationship with fluff prompts 5, 7, 12, and 14 please?”

Fluff prompts:

5. ”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

7. “I feel like i cant breathe when i’m around you.”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

12. “I’m not jealous! Its just...you’re mine!”

14. “I don’t like to pretend we’re not together.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of fights, mention of post-traumatic stress, fluff too.

Word count: 2k.

A/N: Thank you💖 I hope you guys like. I changed some details a little, hope you don't mind

Normal Rules. Smut Rules.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you❤️

— — — —

Fissure. That's what mercenaries, thieves, assassins and his enemies were looking for. A fissure to drive Kaz Brekker to ruin. Burn his empire, wood for wood, until there is nothing left but funeral ashes swept away by the winter wind. Even the most infinitesimal fissure would ensure that his enemies infiltrate, like hungry parasites, into the heart of the dungeon of his deepest secrets. Swallowing, absorbing, any hint of what could do the infamous the Bastard of the Barrel down to his own knees.

And Kaz Brekker feared that if they looked into the most secluded corner of his dungeons, where it was reserved to hide the greatest truths of his soul, they would find the one only thing to beg on his knees for would be something he would do without hesitation.

You.

You were like the last summer solstice in a world ruled by darkness, cold and empty. Which he kept in a chest locked with seven chains.

If he had to describe you with the five senses, Brekker would remind that, when he was in the bitter cold of the ocean, clutching the stiffness of dead and putrefying flesh like a lifeboat, a ray of sunshine, warm as the summer, it opened up through the thunderclouds and came down to his face, warming that spot of skin like a kiss from the sun.

And it would be with that memory that he would describe you.

Kaz Brekker shouldn't have fallen in love with you. He was the person who most understood the disastrous consequences if he let himself get carried away by the way his heart sped up whenever he saw you. If he allowed herself to taste the way all of your heat radiated into his body and made him feel alive. But he fell in love.

Everything was all too much. The feeling of life every time you said his name, like a devotion, something religious, lyrical. The sweetness in your eyes, the warm voice. Everything had been too much.

And what should he do? Tell you he missed you every time you went on a mission? Saying that he were jealous and envy of Jesper because the man managed to make you laugh with a silly joke and hug you tight, something Kaz still hadn't been able to do? Tell you it was almost religious the way he venerated your smile? Of course not. Because all these things would have been sensible, and Kaz couldn't do anything sensible around you.

Because when he saw life offering him, with such joy, the one thing that had been denied him all his life, and that he swore never to crave, his first impulse was anger. Stupid, irrational anger.

So, for the first few moments, his entire reaction to you had been cold, distant, almost avoidant. Because the way his whole body shook in hot spasms when, in that summery tone, you called his name, it was too much for Kaz to handle.

“Kaz!” You call, one night.

He heard your voice from across the crow club, and had to close his eyes tightly at the way his heart leapt in his chest.

"Hey, hey." You appeared beside him, your cheeks chased away by coral red, the happy smile and the sparkle in your eyes as someone who have the path to true happiness. "Jessy said you were wanting to find a new way to invade that bank."

Oh perfect. In the same way his body exalted when he heard the sound of your name and your lips, hearing you call Jesper by that infernal nickname had a much more destabilizing effect. And fierce.

Kaz raised an eyebrow at you, in a nonchalant gesture but inviting you to keep talking.

“I happen to know of an underground path.” For an instant, the pride in your smile made Kaz want to smile too. “You and I can put together a map today and we'll be right tomorrow to go.”

That was one of the times Kaz should have made some dry, disinterested, trivial comment, something that made you not want to spend time with him, something that made you turn around and walk away. He should have turned around and left. He had done this over a thousand times with other people and knew it to be one of the best outings.

Still, the acid comment didn't come and he couldn't turn his back on you.

So, like the idiot he became whenever it came to you, Kaz couldn't help but spend an hour in your company. Even if it resulted in him lying in bed at the end of the day, alone and feeling the guilt gnawing at him more and more.

So, before he even knew it, Kaz was already in his office with you, listening to you chatter about things he knew he should have been paying attention to. But the way the crackling of the fire flames in the fireplace flashed across your face was a distraction of unimaginable proportions.

“Jessy and I…”

“You want to stop.” He found himself saying before he even realized it. “That nickname is already exasperating me.”

“Why? Jealousy?” You joked, oblivious to the truth.

Kaz looked at you like your comment was the most pathetic thing he'd ever heard. He wanted to screaming: ‘I’m not jealous! Its just...you’re mine!.’ But he didn't. Instead, the words that came out were:

“No. It's childish and immature, and it doesn't fit with...”

"What if I call you ‘Darling’?” You rested your chin on both palms of your hand, your elbows resting on his desk in his office.

Kaz's heart skipped a beat.

“That way you won't be jealous of Jessy's nickname and…”

“It's not jealousy!” He countered, and too late realized that he didn't disagree in the first instance about the nickname, but about the green color that emanated from his body.

And you didn't let that go either.

Your eyes took on a caustic gleam that you quickly hid, turning to the map on the table and going back to drawing the paths. “Okay, Darling.”

After that night, Kaz's self-control began to crumble.

He gave you death glares whenever you called him that nickname, but he never dared contradict or scold you. Much less deny it. The truth was, the core of his soul wanted this. He wanted every part of your caress warm as summer. He wanted to appreciate how perfect you looked when you called him that way. As if that nickname was born just to be used between you.

Something unique.

Over time, his body's physical reactions began to be stronger, coercive and overwhelming. Kaz felt dry, burning, and you soothed and inflamed him at the same time. You were the breath of peace, and also a glass of hot brandy.

And everything that he once felt dead, frozen or putrefying, slowly began to blossom, reborn and shine.

"Darling." You said, going behind the chair Kaz was sitting in, submerged in the Krisha security system sheets in front of he. “You've been there for hours.”

He ignored you, though his body was all too aware of yours behind him, the way your breath hit the top of his ear, how your heat hit his back like a high summer breeze. Kaz swallowed hard, ordering his eyes to stay on the pages.

“What are you reading?”

Your voice rang out from the top of his head, and Kaz felt his heart race into a cardiac arrhythmia the second your hands went to the back of the chair and your face tilted, chin hovering millimeters from his shoulder, your nose almost brushing his cheek.

Fucking Saints! You were hot! It was as if you had sun bathed, swam in the flames of fire, and been born into the summer.

Kaz lost his breath. His sanity. His soul.

“Do not do this.” His voice was no more than a whisper.

You looked at him, the furs not touching but breath hitting each other's cheeks. Kaz followed your gaze, and suddenly the world subtly turned hot. Pulsing and muffled.

“What?” You whispered, your heart so fast.

This was the time for Kaz to use the touche in a very valid argument. To make you move away as fast as you approached. To nip in the bud any path this interaction between you could take. He should have said about the touch. But he didn't remember. Kaz didn't remember his limitation, his traumas, his demons.

In that second, of insanity and magic, you couldn't do that just because…

"I feel like I cant breathe when I'm around you." He said.

After that day, Kaz realized that life no longer made sense without having you by his side to share it. Money didn't have the same value anymore if you weren't there, the robberies didn't make sense anymore if he couldn't tell you how it was at the end of the day, or have you by his side to fight.

Very quickly, Kaz Brekker realized that he had lost the battle against his own feelings. Loving you was inevitable. And having you close to him was made as essential as breathing. That's when things between the two of you developed faster, more solid, more right. The weeks turned to months, the months to years, and your relationship fortified as gloriously as the hilt of a sword.

Kaz still had very difficult moments with touching, days when a single brush of fur was unbearable and the mention of a kiss was impossible. But you stayed there. Firm and unshakable. Giving your summer smiles,your warm winks, and his nickname that had the power to soothe every nerve in Kaz's body.

However, the more Kaz understand that he was need you to he still live, the deeper he hid any trace of public affection for you. Any clue that could sparked the theory in someone that you were the reason, for Brekker, for the sun rose every morning. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Never.

Kaz Brekker became very aware that his soul was harnessed to yours. And there was nothing in the world that would take you away from he. Not while he lived, and even seven feet from land, Kaz would still find a way to fight for you.

It was a logical decision when he said you two should get married. Kaz was still trying to maintain his serene posture as his soul burned in a fire too eager and excited to make official anything that said you were his. That he had finally managed to have that ray of sunshine in the midst of the atrocious ocean. You, unlike him, exhaled your happiness in excited squeals, little jumps of joy and a passionate, quick kiss on the man in front of you.

And Kaz understood, as perfectly as the sky are blue, that he would do anything, for the rest of his life, to be worthy of that overwhelming happiness that sparkled in yours smiles.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” He said, feeling himself smile because your happiness for the wedding was exorbitant.

And you, like the little tease you were who loved to make him piss off, smiled even more and hugged him. He love you. Unconditionally.

But, just like the ocean waves, Kaz and you have had your ups and downs. He wasn't a man who had a lot of patience, and you weren't the most obedient, calm woman in the world. You found him exasperating and he found you as stubborn as a door.

"I already said you can't do that!" And there he was, once again, lecturing you because you showed too much affection, in his mind, for him in a public situation.

And, as Kaz fucking Brekker liked to point out, ‘all walls have eyes and ears’.

"We've been together for six years, Kaz!" You tried to keep your blood calm, but you weren't a person to put up with sermons. “Is this going to be our life? Living as if we have the same connection as a boss and an employee?!”

“And what do you want, Y/n?!” He placed both hands on his office desk, looking at you from the other side “Want us to have a party and tell everyone?! Or do you prefer to hang a red target on your chest?!”

"I did not say that!" You were starting to get really angry. “I'm not asking for a billboard saying we're married and you know it! The only thing I'm saying is that you let me choose to sit next to you, take your hand, or tell you I love you when any of us go off on a dangerous mission!"

Kaz shook his head, impassable, his gaze flashing with anger. How did you not realize he was trying to save you?! Save everything you two built, your lives! And all this for what? Walking hand in hand on the street? It was ridiculous!

“This is indisputable!”

“Kaz…”

“I said no!” He slapped his hands on the table.

A less brave woman would have cringed. But not you.

“I don’t like to pretend we’re not together!”

“And I don't like a fucking girl who complains all the fucking time about something I do to save her! But it feels like I've been put up with it for six years, doesn't it?!”

The words hit you like a slap. Crackling, burning and electrifying. You felt yourself holding your breath and your shoulders instinctively tightening back. The room was silent. Loaded with tension, as if lightning had just hit the ground.

You looked at Kaz in amazement. And he pursed his lips when he realized what he'd said.

“Put up with? And you call me ‘fucking girl’ ?” You repeated, your voice low, serious and in a mixture of hurt and outrage. “Good to know.”

You turned your back, walking out of the office and slamming the door behind you hard, making the thud reverberate through the corridors of Kaz's soul.

"Y/n!" He called you, striding to the door "Y/n!"

But when Kaz pulled the doorknob and took a few steps down the hall, it wasn't you he bumped into. It was Nina, trying to hide, in a very terrible way, her curious and shocked expression. In female hands she carried a small stack of documents, probably something important that Kaz needed to check.

He had to check that out. But his eyes, restless and quick, wandered the great hall of the crow club below, watching your figure pass between the bodies, advancing towards the exit.

"Sooo…" Nina started, even though the attention wasn't on her. "Couple fights, right?"

But Kaz didn't think before nodding, trying to get past Nina to catch up with you. But of course the girl wasn't going to let Brekker get away with it that quickly. She was betting with Inej how long you two would pretend to have nothing. And now she was going to get the truth!

"So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?" The smile of shock and excitement was wide open on her face.

Kaz muttered a curse, gently pushing the girl aside and moving towards the stairs, aiming to catch up with you. But not before answering:

"No, that girl is my wife!"

#kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz x kruge #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz x jesper #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #freddy carter x you #freddy carter imagines #freddy carter fluffy #freddy carter x reader #freddy carter

[mymarifae]

OK I know you made that post about thinking about the soul in deltarune as a parasite like a few days ago BUT CAN I SAY THAT I'M SO GLAD SOMEONE ELSE PICKED UP ON THAT. like I haven't played DR since chapter 1 came out and since then I've just seen so many comics and interpretations that we, the player, are ruining kris's life, and while it's an interesting narrative, it makes me, the outsider, reluctant to play because it seems like the game would punish you for playing, you know? like holy SHIT we didn't have that when undertale came out

SO TDLR; i just wanted to thank you for that post because it made me feel a little better to think that I wasn't the only one who found that a little depressing, you know? - sincerely, a stranger that saw your post on her blog and screamed about it

yeah i don't like it 💔 it's fine if others want to read it that way but often it's pushed as though it's canon when, as of right now at least, it's not. i hope that helps to hear, btw! we can't say for sure obviously there's only 2 chapters, but nothing in the game points to us definitely 100% ruining kris's life. and i think it's going to stay that way because toby speaks veryyyyy positively about deltarune's. like he literally released chapter 2 for free because after the chaos of covid and lockdowns and shit, he wanted to share a little positivity and love with his self-described silly game. if he were making a cynical game meant to make you feel horrible for simply playing it, i don't think he'd talk about it the way he does.

it could go either way, like whatever man, but i sincerely doubt the game is going to take that particular dark turn. y'all are free to think how you please and disagree with me but like. we don't know... we don't know anything about deltarune rn... it's chill. we'll see in due time. talking and theorizing is fun but idk sometimes we all take it too far!! as long as it's not some. nasty bullshit. relax and let people read the story in the way that makes them happiest~

#it's just not for me!!!! and if it ends up being canon i will ignore it!!!! i'm a big crybaby be nice to my blorbos from my games #i explore the narratives of snowgrave on my own terms when i feel okay to do so and that's like It that's as far as i can manage #mailbox

[courtlyharlequin]

Amaranthine

Warning(s): female reader, mentions of anxiety, slow burn (I think), 17K word count, self-indulgence, Vivi’s Vil brain rot with no plot,  not proofread

Summary: There was this monster inside your head. It went by the name of Anxiety. To you, it was, and always be, more so of a parasite you couldn’t live with, but you also couldn’t live without. It looked after you in the strangest of times. For the most part, it was a hindrance, cluttering your mind with dark and bitter thoughts, assuming the worst in people you’ve never met before, jumping to conclusions, and crying over the smallest things. It made you extremely aware of yourself and others, for better or for worse. That was Anxiety, the monster in your head. The exact moment in time when it nestled instead into your mind is unknown to this day, festering in the back of your mind. Then there was Vil Schoenheit, your lover, your soulmate, and most importantly, your pillar of support who cheered you on in his own way. He taught you how to tame Anxiety. But alas, a monster will always be a monster.

A/N: It’s my birthdayyyyyy~ so I made a very, very, very self-indulgent fic for myself. While I did write it as a reader insert, it pertains to my mental health, particularly my anxiety, and there may be aspects of it that you may not understand. That is okay. I wanted some feels with Vil on my birthday because I have a case of Malleus syndrome;;;

A/N²: To clear things up, the reader in this fic is female. She is not Yuu (I usually write the reader as Yuu and yes, I’m aware they can be two separate entities). She likes to scrapbook, bake, and wear lolita clothing. She also attends NRC though her dorm is left pretty open-ended. However, it might not make sense if you’re in Pomefiore. This might not work if your birthday is in March either. I’m sorry asdfghjkl;

Disclaimer: Please note that this is not a fanfic that romanticizes mental illnesses. A significant other cannot solve everything. They shouldn’t solve everything. They aren’t meant to fix you; they’re there to bring out the best in you and be by your side when you need them to be. By no means, is it their job to help your completely overcome your mental illnesses. It’s a common trope in fanfiction and gives off mixed signals to me. This self-indulgent fanfic of mine is not meant to give anyone false hope. It is simply a love story that I always wanted to experience. Think of it as my own anxiety story. The only thing real about this is some events like the presentation meltdown though my partner eventually turned into my middle school bully so I just replaced him with Vil because Vil>>>>>>

[ Present Day, Vil’s Bedroom ]

Fwip!

You flinched. You looked up. Vil had flicked your forehead. His eyes were filled with worry, brows creased and his lips strung in a frown.

“Fairest, is something on your mind?” he asked.

“No. Not at all.”

“Hold still for a minute. This lip tint is watery,” he said in a stern tone, tilting your chin upwards

He lined your lips in red and handed you a small mirror.

“Beautiful, my love.”

You stared at your expression. Vil was right. You were beautiful, all dolled up in this getup. You were prettier than usual, that’s for sure. However, the look isn’t for you or your hollow eyes. He snapped his fingers.

“Fairest,” he paused, sitting down on his bed, patting the space next to him, “Come here.”

You obliged.

“Now, talk to me. Don’t deny it. Something is on your mind. You’ve been zoning out all day. If you need a break just say so.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I was just thinking…”

“Thinking?”

“Yes. About the past and whatnot. Trivial things! No matter,” you dismissed, leaning onto his shoulder.

Vil crossed his legs, “How could I help you if you give me such a vague answer?”

Had he truly forgotten your special day, the only day you were willing to break out of your shell and be showered in compliments and praise without feeling like an alien? While you didn’t have a cake to share and you were certain that he wouldn’t want to eat it either, you expected he would remember the date as your lover of seven months now. So far, he only asked you to drop by his room for makeup practice as he just landed a part-time job as a makeup artist. Not that you minded of course. He made you feel beautiful, one of the many reasons you loved him.

“I don’t think it’s something you can help me with. I was thinking about middle school and—”

“Don’t waste your time with those fools.”

“I told you it was trivial.”

You nuzzled against his shoulders.

“It’s been hard lately, you know? I’ve been overthinking again. About silly things. Group projects, you know? Presentations too. Ah, there was this one person who told me to shut up because of a misunderstanding and everyone laughed and I felt— But you mustn’t hurt them!”

You clutched his arm. His posture had stiffened. He gave you a blank expression though his eyes told the whole story.

“I felt a little out of place. Things were going fine until they showed up. It’s not their fault, don’t worry. I was excited to talk to them, but it ended up going downhill. I felt like I was overstepping my boundaries. It was embarrassing,” you continued.

“I know you don’t like it when I say this but it’s not as bad as you think it is. Know that you made progress compared to your pot– first year self,” Vil said, squeeze your hand, “If you want help with your presentations, then I’m here for you— as always.”

Straightforward as always. He never tolerated things he deems piffling, but you were glad he didn’t pity you, not one bit.

“I’m sorry for bothering—”

He placed the tip of his index finger on your nose.

“What do we say instead of apologizing for something we cannot control?”

“T-Thank you.”

“Go on now.”

“...for listening to me.”

“My pleasure, Fairest.”

His finger shifted as he cupped your cheek with one hand, leaning in to kiss your forehead. He must’ve forgotten your birthday, but you mustn’t going to ruin the mood. You watched his back as he gathered his makeup brushes. Vil was a busy man though that was something you were used to as his lover.

[ Two Years Prior, Alchemy Classroom ]

“Are you just going to sit there while everyone picks their partners, little potato?”

You flinched at the sudden comment. Potato? You had a name. Did you do something to be labeled in such a way? Moreover, what was the Vil Schoenheit doing standing in front of your desk? You prayed for the conversation to be brief. Part of you also prayed for him to ask to be partners.

“What are you staring at? Answer.”

You shook your head. This was bad. You were staring at him for too long. While you were dying from embarrassment, you let your gaze linger for a little longer. He was gorgeous. You loved how his blonde hair transitioned into a pale lavender, complimenting his violet eyes, eye makeup, and fair complexion.

Vil snapped his fingers before your field of vision.

“I know you aren’t mute. Answer.”

“Probably…” you said.

“Hah? That won’t do, potato. I’ll be your partner then.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, ‘I’ll be your partner’. Now, move over.  We’re in direct sunlight here and it won’t do any good for our skin if we sit there everyday for so long even if we are indoors.”

You nodded, sliding one seat over. He sat down next to you, arms and legs crossed. He seems mad, concerned with something, something else. His body language didn't match his facial expressions though he wasn’t hard to read. 

“Why me?”

You bit your lip, cringing at your own inquiry.

“You seem responsible enough to be my partner for this project,” he said, propping his head on his elbow, turning to face the blackboard.

What did he mean by that? Sure, you were responsible, but were you worth noting of? You were decent, not the best but not the worse either. Failing a class meant coming the topic of conversation when a teacher asks you to stay after class for a brief checkup or tutoring sessions. Excelling in a class meant being called out on your exemplary work by teachers. Anxiety was not equipped for either circumstances therefore it tried to help you maintain your grades discreetly. But Vil noticed, indicating that you were overachieving. Perhaps you should purposefully miss a few questions on the next quiz. You got a perfect score last time. It wouldn’t hurt. However, you were partnered with Vil, someone who strived for perfection, someone who stood out against a crowd. The phrase goes “...like a sore thumb”, but Vil stood out like a well polished and manicured appendage. He was beautiful, so beautiful that one had to stop for a moment to admire his beauty.

That was Vil, your partner. You could feel heavy stares in your direction. They were directed at Vil, but you couldn’t help feeling nervous. You fiddled with the ends of your hair, fixating your eyes onto your textbook.

You flinched when Vil pushed your back lightly. You shot him a widened stare, opening your mouth to ask him why he touched you. He placed a finger on your lips.

“Bad posture isn’t good for you. Straighten up and pay attention.”

Heat rose to your face as you adjusted your posture. 

[ Library ]

“Mind telling me what this is, potato?” Vil said, throwing a stack of papers onto the table.

Your shoulders tensed. You set your textbook down, avoiding eye contact.

“It’s our project.”

“No. It’s your project.”

“I wrote your name on it too so don’t worry about it. I don’t mind sharing the credit.”

“It’s not about the credit. It’s about the integrity. I dropped by Crewel’s office hours today with a question about this project and he told me that we had already turned it in. Fortunately for you, I’m good at improvising so we’re off the hook. I got our project back so we can work on it together.  Scoot over so we can get started. I’m assuming you also did the slideshow, but I–”

As usual, you complied to his demands, allowing him to sit next to you. He was a bit too close for comfort. Your peers could manage with this proximity so you probably could too if you took deep breaths every now and then. 

“We only have a day left, you know.”

“I know.”

“So why bother?”

Vil clicked his tongue, throwing his French braid over his shoulder as he slid the stool closer to the desk, “I bother because we’re a team.”

He paused, pondering, “I don’t like things being handed to me either.”

“That’s gold especially since this is coming from someone who’s always too busy to even reply to my texts,” you replied.

As soon as those words left your mouth, you bit your tongue. Was that too much? Should you have just listened to him? Kept quite? How will he react? Will he shame you on social media? Spread rumors? Tell Crewel?

“Listen here, potato. I work various part-time jobs and I run a club. I apologize for my poor time management, but I am here now. You, on the other hand, have only sent me one text pertaining to scheduling and this assignment during the three weeks we had to do it. We are both at fault, got that?”

“Yes,” you murmured, pulling out your laptop.

“Wonderful. You won’t have to rewrite everything. Just subtracting here and adding some words there for smoother transitions. It’ll sound better.”

You bit your lip. You were hoping that because you made the entire presentation, Vil would take up the speaking part out of guilt. Unfortunately for you, he was too self-righteous to give in. He can’t be persuaded either. His eyes were glued onto his own laptop, typing the evening away.

You’ll have to make due.

[ Presentation Day, Alchemy Classroom ]

From the brief time you’ve interacted with him, you knew that Vil was meant to be in the spotlight. He shined brightly, you could feel his charisma even from the back from the classroom. His performance was worthy of a standing ovation. You could never compete with him, let alone get through a single presentation. You had made it through all of your slides, but every time Vil spoke, you felt out of place. Your hands were shaking and you were on the brink of tears. Your peers must think you were incompetent. Their intense stares were unbearable. Did they pity you? Or Vil?

“It’s your turn,” Vil whispered.

You refused. His hand twitched as he grabbed your shoulders. This exchange was awkward enough yet your silent plea for help didn’t reach him.

“Go, potato.”

“No.”

He enunciated his words, “It’s. Your. Turn”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“You couldn’t possibly understand,” you cried.

Vil’s expression softened. He reached for you and you braced yourself yet it never came. He huffed and proceeded with the rest of the slides.

Ah… crying in the first semester as a first year in high school? Because of a presentation overwhelming you? Wonderful. You’ll never be able to live that down. Should you transfer to RSA then? No, that won’t do. They had mandatory choir classes or so you heard. Maybe an ordinary high school from your hometown then? But what if the headmaster disapproved?

You meekly walked up to Crewel, “I’m going to the infirmary.”

Your instructor only nodded with reluctance. Dissatisfaction was written across his face, but turning down a frantic student in tears for an unknown reason would be frowned upon. You heard him mutter something about the puppies this year being too sheltered. You gave Vil a second glance before heading out. He brushed you off and continued with the deliverable. 

You were hopeless.

[ Infirmary ]

You pulled the covers closer to your face, hiding behind your hair. He was there. Why?

“(y/n),” he said.

You inched away from him. He finally called you by your name. Not by “potato”. Why were you a potato in the first place? Was it because you were beneath dirt? Were you that ugly to be beneath him?

“Are you just going to stay here forever? Curfew is soon. You should hurry and get to the mirror chamber.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, potato.”

 You were beneath him. The tears won’t stop falling. You were trembling.

“What did I do this time?” he sighed.

His voice was firm. He must’ve been irritated by today’s stunt.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just leave me alone... please.”

The blanket shrouded your eyes. How pathetic. How could you let him of all people see you in such a miserable state? You’ve only seen his social media profile once or twice. Was he the type to post and gossip about others?

The mattress sank as Vil sat down. You hugged your sides.

“Fine then. Be a stubborn potato.”

“... You honestly did nothing wrong. I’m the problem. I can’t function as a human being. I can’t talk to people. I can’t- Well, I can but it’s...”

“Difficult?”

“Yeah.”

“What is there to be scared of? Follow that trick where you pretend everyone is potato.”

Is that where the potato shtick came from? How reassuring. His tone was unchanging in pitch. Was he trying to comfort or criticize you?

“It's more complicated than just being shy. It’s tiring. I don’t have a clear mind. I worry too much. I spend my days in fear. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

Vil pulled the covers off your small figure. You turned to him in a haze.

“I believe the term is ‘anxiety’, potato,” he said.

“Y-Yeah. Was it obvious? It probably was. Pretty silly now that I think about it, but anyways curfew–”

“Did you think I was stuck in some era where I don’t even acknowledge mental health? And would look down on you because you have anxiety? Please. Give me more credit than that. I’m not close-minded. You’re still a person and you have feelings. So you have anxiety. What of it? Certainly no less of a person.”

Oh how your heart fluttered.

“Get up. You can stay at the Pomefiore dorms tonight. I should get you cleaned up. I can’t stand the sight of those red and puffy eyes…. Cheer up a bit, will you?”

He held out his hand. Was this his way of apologizing? It wasn’t his fault you crumbled in the first place so why? What did he want? Did he want to help you out to boost his reputation?

“Why are you helping me?”

“You clearly need help don’t you?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yes or no, potato.”

“I can’t burden you more than I have,” you shook your head.

“I talked it over with Crewel. You’re fine.”

“I suppose I’m not excused either.”

You shrugged off the blankets and took Vil’s hand.

“No, you are. He seemed to be under the impression that you were actually ill,” he said, tapping his finger against his cheek.

“Then–”

“Leave it for now. We can discuss this over tea. After we clean you up though.”

“Do you pity me?”

What if you sounded desperate? What if you sounded needy? Was that needy? Would he change his mind? 

You clamped a hand over your mouth. Vil squinted at you as if he was trying to inspect a stain on a fine textile. He proceeded to grab your cheeks, squeezing them. He exercised his authority.

“I. Do. Not. Remember that. I don’t stoop that low. Good grief.”

“Then... what’s the price?” you cried.

“Excuse me?”

“Your time is valuable, isn’t it? You’re clearly busy. Why are you wasting your precious time on me? Shouldn’t you be compensated for the time I’ve wasted?”

“Yes, my time is valuable, but we can talk about compensation another time.”

He let his hand go, leaving you to gasp in sheer terror. So forceful… he scared you. What did he want from you?

“You coming, (y/n)?”

“Yeah.”

[ Pomefiore Dormitory, Vil’s Bedroom ]

“Hold still. After you cleanse your skin with this superfruit cleanser, you have to apply this fir extract to exfoliate. It’ll sting, and it’s even worse when you get it in your eye, so be careful. Try not to move too much, potato.”

Vil dabbed the cotton ball on your face meticulously. You felt like a celebrity with your own hair and makeup team.

“There. All done,” he beamed.

He spun the chair around so you faced the vanity mirror.

“Beautiful. One hundred points for you.”

You gripped the hem of his shirt. He shouldn’t say things like that and expect you not to combust. What’s more was that this attire was incredibly lewd. What if someone came in and got the wrong idea? What if they spread rumors? You were wearing nothing but his shirt after all. It was long enough to reach your knees, but it was his shirt regardless.

“What do you think, potato?”

“It’s nice, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“It’s not for me?”

“Well, I think it does,” he said.

You patted your cheeks. Soft. Oh dear, you were soft.

“Ah, ah. Don’t touch,” he scolded, prying your hands away.

Goodness you were hopeless.

“Eh? Stop crying. No! Don’t rub your eyes either. Let me get you some tissues.”

Annoyance was etched into his speech, but his actions betrayed his words. He never left your side; he wiped your tears with his own thumbs. You held his wrists tenderly. His touch was like a thousand butterfly kisses.

“I’m sorry. I just… Annoying… Nobody… I’m not.. You…”

He sighed, “Don’t apologize for your feelings. You’re not that annoying as you think. Instead, why don’t you try saying thank you?”

“Thank you?”

“Yes, something like ‘thank you for listening to me’. That shouldn’t be hard for you now, is it?”

“Thank you… for not being annoyed with me.”

Vil palmed his face, “Not that bad. We’ll work on it. Twenty points for you.”

You sniffled and broke out into a small fit of laughter. He smiled too, standing up straight. He towered over you. He was a giant. You watched his back as he approached his bed, fluffing up the pillows.  His heels clicked and clacked against the flooring. He was still in his school uniform. When was he going to sleep? Didn’t he say he wanted you to stay here? People would really get the wrong idea now. You tugged at his sleeves. Vil turned to you, waiting for you to speak.

“I’ll be going now.”

He grabbed your wrist, “Stay.”

You pulled away from him.

“No, not like that. I’m not going to do anything to you, potato. You really have to stop associating me with other potatoes. I meant stay for some tea. Of course, if you really feel uncomfortable then you’re free to go, but at least let me walk you back.”

“I’ll stay,” you said.

“Wonderful. Give me a moment to fix the bedding. The tea should be ready by then.”

When did he prepare the tea? When you were bathing? When you were changing into his pajamas?

“Vil, if I do stay the night, where will I be sleeping?“

“We have one spare room left over since one student never showed up to the ceremony so you can sleep there.”

You sighed, shoulders at ease.

“Did you honestly think I would let you sleep here? No, potato, I need my beauty rest.”

“No, not at all.”

“You are terrible at lying.”

“I’m not dirty minded I promise!”

“Did I say you were?” he smirked.

Vil had a frisky side to him… how unexpected. Nevertheless, you were relieved. You had insomnia already. If you had to sleep next to Vil… you would never see the dawn again.

“Potato, your tea.”

You jumped.

“Careful! It’s hot and these pajamas are made of silk. I dare you to stain them,” Vil scolded.

You nodded. He handed you a tea cup. 

“I was hoping to talk some things over with you, but it’s getting late. You can take this to the spare room down the hall and relax. Self-care time if you will. Here’s a bag for you to put your dirty clothes in. You can drop it off in the morning to the ghosts for laundry. When you get the chance to change, return the top to me. Capeesh?”

“Capeesh...” you mumbled, turning to the door, fumbling with the tea cup.

“(y/n),” he said.

“Yes?”

“Don’t disturb my beauty sleep.”

“Got it.”

“You didn’t let me finish, potato. You can disturb me if you need help with anything else regarding your anxiety. I won’t do things on your behalf, but I’m there to hold your hand. Just not during my beauty sleep, okay?”

“Okay…”

Vil was not lying when he said he wouldn’t treat you any less of a human. Even if there was a monster in your head, Vil treated you like he would anyone.  Perhaps he wasn’t so bad. But how could he say such things with a straight face? It sounded like something out of a fairy tale. 

No, no, (y/n). You mustn’t catch feelings for someone this quickly. If anything, you were in love with the idea of him, his kindness, how he helped you out and cared for you. But was it even kindness?

Even if these feelings weren’t spawned from the idea of loving him, Vil would never return them. He seemed to be the type to be into someone independent. Or at least someone who was not broken. 

Mainly the former, it would seem. He didn’t pack your clothes even though he was the one who demanded that you strip, plunging you into a rose petal and lavender sprig bath. Admittedly, it was relaxing. He said something about lavender having a calming effect earlier. You smelt nice too. 

Maybe for today, you could be comfortable in your own skin. Just this once. You smelt really nice.

[ Four Weeks Later, Alchemy Classroom ]

“Alright, puppies. We have another lab project. The details are in the packet. You are to concoct a potion using the ingredients we learned about this unit. Any potion is fine, but Amortentia is forbidden– as usual. This project will be due in two weeks. You will present your findings to the class in small groups. You can choose your partners. You were good puppies for the last few weeks so I’ll let you choose this time. Do not disappoint me,” Crewel said, cracking his whip.

You watched as the class swarmed into a chaotic mass. Students laughed and embraced one another. You scanned the crowd, looking for someone as unfortunate as you, someone without a partner.

“(y/n). Would you like to be partners?”

Oh. Vil. After all this time, you were baffled by the fact that he continued to interact with you after your meltdown weeks ago. What’s more is that he even followed you back on Magicam. He engaged in conversations with you, asking to check answers with you despite passing tests with flying colors just as you did. You never minded per se. Vil always had something to say. He wasn’t talkative, but he was captivating and civil with a hint of sarcasm. He had a lot to critique. Moreover, you two were from different worlds. Whenever he shared stories about his life, from modeling to troublesome classmates, you felt like a child with a new toy. You were immersed, zoned out of your surroundings, your focus on that one, single thing. In turn, you shared your own anecdotes, anxiety struggles and small victories— to which he celebrated with you through small, almost satirized, cheers and affirmations. 

You were comfortable around him. Anxiety kept you from advancing your acquaintanceship to a friendship, but you were more than happy with sharing homework answers and making small talk. Vil most likely wanted to work with you because, as he said so before, you were reliable. Or was it responsible? Whatever the word was,  you were useful to him. You were noticed in the best way possible. A twisted way to put it, but that’s simply how you felt.

Vil was not what Anxiety said he was and that was more than good enough for you.

“Sure,” you said.

“Wonderful,” he smiled.

You slid over as he took a seat next to you. Away from the sun, just as he liked it. You remembered your first encounter well.

“We’re presenting in small groups this time so you don’t have to worry that much about it,” he paused before continuing, “We can practice. When are you available?”

“Any time, really, I don’t have any clubs.. Or part-time jobs.”

“How does this Friday sound then? I’ll ask my manager to clear my schedule for that day.”

“You don’t have to clear your schedule. I can manage even if you come back late… Just don’t come to me the day before the deadline?”

Were you being too bold with this request?

“Friday then,” Vil said, flipping through the packet, “What type of potion do you want to make?”

“You can choose. I’m not really sure.”

“No, you are sure. You keep staring at that one page. I know you’ve read everything the moment it was handed to you. You certainly weren’t zoning out either.”

If there was anything worth noting about Vil over the short time that you’ve known him, it was that he was observant. Profoundly observant. Perhaps even more than you.

Vil clicked his tongue: “Spit it out, potato. I won’t judge you. I don’t have much of a preference either. We can compromise if we don’t agree.”

“Amortentia,” you winced.

“Now, that we can’t do,” he waved, “Didn’t you hear the professor say?”

“I did, but the structure of this potion is so intricate. I want to try.”

“Aphrodisiacs are prohibited. We can’t do it.”

“I know. I can dream though.”

“Do you have a boy in mind, potato?”

“It’s not like that,” you huffed.

If only he knew. You were head over heels for him– or rather the idea of him, someone who accepted you wholly without ever wanting to tame the monster inside your head. You weren’t sure if you loved Vil for who he was or what he did for you as a classmate. Do mere classmates have afternoon tea in each other’s dorms? Did they engage in small talk frequently?

Vil chuckled, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, potato.”

[ Friday, Library ]

“You’re late, (y/n),” Vil said, leaning against the door frame.

“Sorry.”

“I hope you weren’t planning on skipping out.”

“No, sir.”

“Sir? I’m not that old, you potato.”

You weren’t fond of the session already. While you enjoyed talking to Vil, his strict attitude was oftentimes a trigger for Anxiety. Vil made it rage, rattling against the cage that encasing your heart. It didn’t fancy that. Neither did you.

“Come sit,” he walked over to the desk.

His braid swayed back and forth. You followed him in suit, taking a seat. Vil reached for your shoulders and the small of your back. You yelped.

“Posture is the first step to confidence. If you shrink, you’ll portray your nervousness in the most obvious way possible. Feet flat on the ground and shoulders back.”

You felt exposed, flustered, but not to Vil’s touch. You felt vulnerable to a nonexistent crowd. 

Vil stood up and took a seat before you, staring at you intently.

“Now, deep breath. Scan the crowd and focus on a point behind them, away from their eyes, but still in their direction. Remember to look around occasionally so it’s not obvious that you’re staring at the back of the room. You don’t have to make direct eye contact.”

You nodded sheepishly and obeyed. It wasn’t difficult. You could stare into his eyes forever. You hoped it wouldn’t be too awkward if you kept your gaze fixed on his.

“Shall we begin?”

[  Two Weeks Later, Alchemy Classroom ]

“Hold still, potato,” Vil hissed.

He held your jaw steadily as he applied a glossy red lip tint onto your lips. In a classroom. In public. How many people were staring at you two? What did they think? Did they think you were his plaything?

“I don’t see the point in dressing up.”

“Please. Lip tint and a few touch ups isn’t ‘dressing up’. Plus, you’ll feel more confident if you look confident. Own it, my friend.”

Friend? You were his friend? You could feel your cheeks getting rosy. At the same time, you felt a surge of adrenaline. Was it confidence? You were on cloud nine, feeling unstoppable. If he said so, then Vil would be your first friend at Night Raven College outside of your dorm. 

But… what if he didn’t mean it?

No, no. he meant it. There was no need for Vil to lie. For him, lying was pointless. It was a waste of time; he preferred to get straight to the point even if it might be harsh on someone’s feelings. You’d learn to accept that his words come from honest intentions.

Crewel blew his whistle, signaling start time. Students flocked to their not-so-small groups. Vil had volunteered for the both of you to go first despite your protests, saying that it would be best to go first so you would not overthink and compare your presentation to others. 

“I’m Vil Schoenheiit.”

He squeezed your thigh. The gesture was of chaste intentions, you were sure. Your leg was the only place he could touch in hindsight. Or so you assumed. Regardless, it set your insides on fire, but it made his presence known— as if to say “I’m here, don’t worry.”

Your breath hitched: “And I’m (y/n) (l/n).”

[ One Day Later, Vil’s Bedroom ]

“Potato, what are you doing here? It’s the weekend.”

You hugged your sides. He was sweating. You’ve never seen Vil in anything but his school uniform, Pomefiore’s dorm uniform, and pajamas. There he was… standing right before you in a stormy gray tank top. While he was wearing pajama bottoms, the look was foreign to you. What should you say? You never knew he worked out.  Were those weights heavy? Is he training for a certain role?

“I have something for you: a small thank you gift for yesterday,” you said, brushing past your thoughts.

“Oh? You don’t have to thank me. I wanted a good grade too so don’t think too highly of me… Simply improving is enough.”

You shook your head, “I insist. I want to do something for you too. I would feel guilty if it were any other way.”

Vil rested his palm on your head. You looked up at him attentively. The height difference between the both of you was immense. Compared to Vil, you were a dwarf.

“What is it that you want to show me?” he sighed.

You jumped with excitement, handing him a small container. He took them.

“What’s this?”

“Open them.”

“Alright, alright. Such a demanding potato…”

You watched him gingerly pop off the lid to reveal your culinary creation. Your eyes wandered back to his violet orbs.

“Potato, what is this?”

Did he honestly not know or did he think you were jesting?

“They’re oatmeal raisin cookies. I made them myself. It’s all organic ingredients, I promise. There’s apples in it too. I know you watch your diet, but I think it would be okay if you ate just one. At least?”

You scratched the back of your neck while Vil stared at them in bewilderment.

“Just one.”

“Yay~”

His furrowed eyebrows softened as he took a bite, “Not bad, potato.”

He placed it back in the container and closed the lid. Your heart sank. Was it just for show? Were they bad?

“Don’t take it personally. They are delicious. I don’t eat too many sweets though. I… also have a meeting with my producers after this. So perhaps later, my dear.”

“Oh alright.”

[ Someday– Your Birthday, Alchemy Classroom ]

You weren’t sure what kind of strings were pulled or if this class had free seating, but Vil gradually sat closer and closer to you. Now, his seat was next to you. He said that it was because he could not stand the other potatoes near his old seat and that he’d much rather sit with a friend who helped him stay on task– which in turn made your heart melt.

Answers weren’t the only things you two shared now. You often brought snacks to share with him. You brought healthy ones like apple crisps and celery sticks for accommodate the diet of your classmate. He only consumed workout smoothies in the morning. He would drink one before he went for a run with no post-workout smoothies to make up for the calories he burnt. For someone who claims to life a healthy lifestyle, Vil was oftentimes too busy to keep up with it. He rose when the sun kissed the tips of the hills. Granted, he could have risen earlier so he could consume his post-workout meal, but his work trails later in the night. Sleep was important to him. Between balancing his beauty sleep and fitness regime, he frequently came to Alchemy with his hair still wet from a morning shower, his eyes caked with concelaer, and an empty stomach.

The first time you offered him something to munch on and regain the calories burnt, he declined. But as these days became more frequent, Vil caved.  

“Potato.”

He slumped against his desk– a rare sight from the Pomefiore student.

“You should stop pushing yourself,” you said, taking out a container.

He shook his head.

“A break would be nice once in a while, Vil.”

He rolled his eyes, slipping off his gloves to take off the lid. God, he was so stubborn. He was going to burn out one day.

“I don’t mind sharing food with you, but you should pace yourself. Take a day off”

He shook his head again. Why though? Did his schedule not allow him to? Vil worked late sometimes, but was it worth it?

“Potato.”

“Hm?”

“Do you have anything aside from these cookies?”

You inhaled sharply, closing the lid and shoving it in your bag. They might have crumbled, but you didn’t want him to know. 

“Unfortunately, no sorry,” you sighed, clutching your bag’s handle.

“Fine then. I’ll just eat one then.”

“No.”

“Why not? “

“It’s not healthy for you.”

Vil lunged for your bag. His stomach growled. You did your best to stifle a giggle. 

“You just said it was alright to take a break,” he said.

“You can’t have them.”

“How come?”

“They’re for me…” you whispered.

“Come again?”

“These are mine.”

He hummed, clearly not buying into your excuse. Perhaps excuse was not the right word because they were for you. They were self-indulgent treats that you made for yourself around this time of year. They were self-indulgent with a miserable origin. 

At this point, he was gripping your wrist. Since when was VIl this forceful? He never crossed any boundaries. He was never nosy. Was he concerned? Or did the madness of hunger consume him?

He was akin to a stray kitten. You were the one to offer him food in the first place. There were two cookies. One wouldn’t hurt.

“Fine. Just one. Please don’t eat the other though. I’d like to eat one on my birthday.”

“Birthday? Potat–”

You put your hand over his mouth on impulse. He was going to throw a fit with you for placing your “breeding ground for bacteria”  on his face, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Don’t tell anyone,” you pleaded, “But, yes, today is my birthday.”

Crewel’s footsteps echoed through the room, “Silence, puppies!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Vil hissed under his breath.

“I’m not big on birthdays. The attention is too much– plus, rarely anyone celebrates with me.”

“You honestly remind me of that one miserable Diasomnia first year from the class next door.”

The conversation was left at that.

[ A Few Hours Later, Courtyard ]

“Potato.”

“Vil?”

Where did he come from? How did he find you? Class had ended a few minutes ago. What’s more is that you only saw him every other day due to the Alchemy schedules. It was the only class you had with him. You never saw him outside of class, aside from rare encounters in the cafeteria. You ate in the library to avoid people so that was partly your fault too.

“Come with me.”

“Pardon?”

“I won’t take no for an answer. You are the birthday girl, after all.”

He struck his signature pose, one hand on his hip and the other pointed, barely touching his cheek. When did he develop this again?

Wait. What did he just say?

[ Pomefiore Dormitory, Vil’s Bedroom ]

“Here. This is an anxiety journal. Think of it as a diary to write your thoughts down in case you don’t have anyone to talk to”

“Vil, I can't take this,” you said, pushing the notebook away.

“I insist.”

“Still…”

“You said you didn’t celebrate. And that others didn’t celebrate either, no?”

“Yes…”

“If you don’t put yourself out there and let people know, then how are others going to celebrate? And then you go mope around and eat cookies all by yourself in the library with the ghosts?”

Was he watching you? You were sure that there was no one there when the ghosts sang you happy birthday.

“I never said I was moping. I don’t care if I’m all alone. I don’t mind at all. I’m perfectly okay with that. I don’t need to be acknowledged or receive any gifts of pity so please just leave it at that…. I appreciate the gesture though.”

He leered. You took a step back. Was he angry? Why? This doesn’t concernto him. Why was he getting angry?

“I care. So take it.”

You caved, taking the journal. It was similar to the Pomefiore dorm leader’s grimoire: leather bound, decorated in gold decals in floral patterns and peacock feathers. It was pretty. You were a fool. A sensitive and broken fool. You were crying over a notebook, a gift put together at the last minute with tender loving care by a classmate you barely knew. It had been a long time since you felt this happy, this acknowledged.

Vil grimaced, “Oh stop crying already. I told you that I was here for you.”

He embraced you. It was awkward, but wholesome. You never hugged him before. He was warm. Perhaps a little bony for it to be of any comfort, but that was most likely due to the position you two were him. His head pats were stiff. It was ill at ease, but endearing.

Vil was your friend. Though not the closest, you treasured his actions. You weren’t sure how he put up with you. Or why even, but all you were concerned in at this moment was that he cared. It would be lovely to not assume the worst in people for once.

[ Present Day, Vil’s Bedroom ]

What would Vil surprise with you this year? He hasn’t mentioned anything yet.

The makeover was nice, but you weren’t big on makeovers. Did you get to keep this dress? It was embellished with lace and frills– fancy. It was white, pink and floral like the Heartslabyul croquet court. You felt pretty albeit out of your own skin. Vil hummed a soft song whilst cleaning his makeup brushes.

Would that be all?  It was your first birthday as a couple. Were you ungrateful if you asked if there was anything else? His schedule was tight. What would he say if you mentioned that today was your birthday? What would he say if you asked if he had forgotten? Would you sound narcissistic? 

Would he say the same thing he said to you when you were second years?

[ One Year Ago, Someday– Your Birthday, Hallway ]

“Vil!”

You were so excited to see him again. You couldn’t stop yourself from running up to him.

“(y/n).”

“I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you? Congratulations. It’s a bit late though. How’s being Pomefiore’s new dorm leader treating you?”

He brushed his hair off his shoulders. Ah... a new hairstyle. He was wearing the barette you made for his birthday. You missed the French braid, but you felt that he was more relaxed when he let his hair down (literally).

“Rook. Guide the baby potatoes back to our dorm. Give us a moment,” Vil said to the person he was walking with.

Rook, you assumed. He was bizarre with his exaggerated features and hat. You were certain that the accessory violated campus dress codes. Needless to say, he was beautiful in his own way– just like any Pomefiore student.

“Oui, Roi du Poison. I shall leave you with ta chérie~” he breathed, prancing away with the first years.

“Ta what now?”

“Don’t mind him,” Vil said, “I am doing well, thank you, (y/n).”

No “potato” this time? Not even once? You hadn’t seen him since your second year started, only keeping up with his life through Magicam and story replies. Sometimes, he messaged you to check up on you or ask to compare answers for Alchemy and Potions. You packed snacks for him though that routine eventually ceased as Vil began taking better care of himself, opting only to run when he had the time.

You missed those days, but his well being was more important than your own selfish feelings. You had grown fond of that nickname since he used it so often. It was a term of endearment. It saddened you that he called others potatoes as well.

“Happy birthday by the way,” Vil said.

“Oh! You remember?”

“There you go again. I don’t have the memory of a goldfish– of course I remember. Though I don’t have a gift for you this time around.”

Did you offend him? Did you sound needy? You weren’t asking for any presents. Did it come off that way?

“I don’t need anything so it’s fine.”

Or rather, you didn't expect anything.

“Good grief. It’s your birthday. Chin up. Have the attention on yourself for one day. It’s your day after all. Anyhow,I would love to chit chat more, but my schedule is tight. I cannot dilly dal–”

You reached for his hand, “W-Would you like to hang out at a café sometime then?”

You cut him off. Was that too abrupt? Rude? Uncalled for? You should have let him leave even if you did miss being around him, being friends with him.

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to. I was just thinking that maybe we could spend some time together and catch up. We haven’t seen each other in person too much. I’m not comfortable with too much attention either so yours is more than enough.”

God, what were you saying? That was cringe-worthy. You prayed that he would decline your impulsive proposal.

“I don’t see why not. Very well then, (y/n). Text me the details so I can adjust my schedule accordingly.”

Wait. He agreed? Was he pitying you? No, no. Stop doubting him. Vil was your friend. He must’ve missed being around you too.

[ One Month Later, Cafe Rosé ]

When he said he was busy, he meant it. A month had passed since your birthday and just now were you able to meet up.

You sat in the café idly. He watched you consume your third plate of strawberry shortcake. You glanced at him then at your growing pile of dishes. He squinted. Should you stop?

“Don’t.”

Did he read your mind?

“No, I’m not a mind reader.”

“But you did it again.”

“Your expressions are easy to read. Do yourself a favor and don’t feel bad if you  enjoy something and I don’t. Someone who makes you feel bad for getting excited about something– something harmless, something you enjoy, is the worst kind of person. Enjoy your cake, birthday girl. Don’t let me, or anyone for that matter, stop you.”

Vil sipped his hand-pressed superfruit smoothie vehemently.

That was oddly inspiring despite having relevance to your self-esteem and cake. Funnily enough, you did feel better about yourself.

“Excuse me? May I get three more slices of this cake? And another teapot, please?” you called out to a server impulsively.

What on earth were you doing? Was that rude? Did she find you demanding?

“Anything else?”

“That’ll be all for now.”

You turned from the waitress, bringing your attention back to Vil. You cocked your head to the side: “What?”

“Consume cake in moderation, you potato.”

There it was. You’ve been waiting all semester to be called a potato. Pomefiore first years have expressed a strong dislike for the nickname. You, on the other hand, treasured it. Time and memories were built into that nickname.

“It’s fine. I’m paying anyway so don’t worry.”

“You are not paying on your birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday though.”

“We’re here for a belated celebration.”

“So an unbirthday?”

“No, no. Don’t bring the Queen of Hearts’s rules and gimmicks into this,” Vil waved his hand.

He set his smoothie down, The ice shifted, echoing throughout the café.

“I want to pay. I wanted to go here in the first place.”

“Think of this as my belated birthday present for you, atonement for not getting you anything or talking as much we’d like.”

“Vil, I don’t require anything from you. You’re busy. You don’t have to talk to me everyday. I think I would combust if you did. My social battery would drain.”

“That’s reassuring.”

The waitress cleared her throat. Vil nodded, sliding his glass to the further end of the table. She placed the cake slices in a neat triangle before setting the teapot down in the center. Then she followed up with the teacups–one for you, one for Vil. He raised an eyebrow at you. Your server gave a polite bow and dismissed herself.

“Eat one slice. Then I’ll let you pay,” you beamed, sliding him the plate.

He glared at the confection, “Alright.”

[ March, Pomefiore Dormitory Hallway ]

“Bonjour, bonjour! What brings you to our humble dorm?”

Rook was his name right?

“Hello, Rook. I was hoping–”

He scared the living daylight out of you. Where did he come from? Why was nobody else around? You spun your heel and scanned the hall. It was empty.

“Echanté, mademoiselle! Let me guess!”

You yelped, falling backwards. Where did he come from? He was behind you a moment ago. His eyes widened as he lunged for you, hooking his arm around your waist, catching you before you made contact with the ground.

“Careful, careful, little fawn,” he chuckled.

Fawn?

He set you straight then pointed at you. His gloved index finger barely touched the bridge of your nose. This man, Rook, was sending your nerves in a downward spiral. 

He smiled at you, resuming like nothing ever happened: “Let me guess– you’re looking for your darling Roi du Poison?”

“Darling… Roi du Poison? Who? Vil?”

“Oui.”

“No, he’s not.. we’re not. We’re just friends. I’m looking for him though bec–”

“Are you here for compensation?”

Rook set Anxiety loose. With a few words, he sent shivers down your spine. Compensation. Would your friendship end the moment you fulfilled his request? It had always been in the back of your mind. The thought of Vil using you to make him feel better about himself shatters you into a million pieces. The thought of owing Vil something for helping you, for being your friend, was heart-wrenching. Was it pity after all this time? Was it so wrong to want to hang out at yet another café? You looked forward to those every month– ever since your unbirthday date. Was your relationship that superficial?

No, it wasn’t a date. You wanted it to be, but it was not a date. You never quite shook off those romantic feelings you felt when you saw a different side to him. Beneath the surface of the poised, strict and sometimes narcissistic prefect, Vil was extremely hard working, passionate, and observant. He was the greatest friend you could ever ask for. You can’t say that he was your best friend, but he was close. If he didn’t feel the same, then that was okay with you. You weren’t even sure if it was love. You’ve had this debate with Anxiety before. It kept telling you that you were in love with the idea of him fixing you. That was not love.

You shook your head. Vil genuinely was your friend. If those feelings were not returned, then you would still be friends.  He told you time and time again that you should never feel sorry for the way you feel. If so, then would it be alright to tell him one day? And feel terrible about it later?

“He’s here, isn’t he?” you asked.

“Oui~”

“Rook, (y/n),” a voice from the end of the half coughed.

Pomefiore’s vice dorm leader crossed his arms and gave you a smug smile. Vil. He was decked out in a trench coat and a black turtleneck. Stylish as always, but his hoarse voice told a different story. You rushed to Vil’s side.

“Vil, are you alright?,” you tugged his sleeves, “Your eyes are so puffy. Have you been crying? You’re burning up too. You should rest. Go back to bed this instant. Our café rendezvous can wait.”

He staggered: “No. I want to go with you. I finally have the time.. to see you… I have to make it count...”

“No, Vil. You have a fever. You need to rest,” you said, sliding his arm over your shoulders, ready to haul him back to his quarters.

Rook hummed a bird’s song.

“Would you mind helping?”

The height difference between you and Vil was awkward. His legs are dragged across the floor in a languid manner. One could imagine how uncomfortable that was.

“Non non, little fawn! My hands are dirty. Roi du Poison wouldn’t allow me to taint his beauty with such bacteria. Désolé!”

“Can you at least get the door then?”

“Will do, milady,” he bowed before complying to your request.

He held the door for you as you dragged Vil to his bed. You gasped as Vil’s limbs tighten around your neck.

“Would you mind getting the sheets too? Pull them out so I can tuck him in?”

Rook hummed in response. You plopped Vil onto the mattress. Your companion’s eyes widened, hands thrown in the air.

“Mademoiselle! Careful! Roi du Poison is fragile like a flower’s first bloom.”

“He’ll be fine don’t worry. Now if you could–”

Where did he go? You blinked for one minute and the vice prefect was gone.  You shook your head in dismay, turning to Vil and tucked him in bed. He looked so peaceful. His eyes were so distraught and dull before. Did he overwork himself to the point of tears? His room was a mess– shreds of fabric and crumpled balls of paper were discarded on the floor. You could hear his breathing as you made way to his desk.

What’s this? A script? And a sewing machine? What was he making? His sketches were stunning. Was this a side project of his? Was he too busy with films to continue with it? But why were his eyes so puffy?

Whatever the case was, it wasn’t your place to pry. Your fingers trailed off over the sketchbook as you made your way to his bathroom. You didn’t know where he kept the medicine or what kind he used, but it was worth a try to look around.

You opened the cabinet and your face fell. At a glance, he didn’t have anything aside from comesetics. There were a few bottles of potions, but you couldn’t make out the labels. It was best not to guess and check. The least you could do was place a wet on his head to cool down the fever. You peered over the bathroom’s door frame.

He wouldn’t mind. He was breathing heavily. You’ll face the consequences later if it violated his beauty regime. Hurriedly, you grabbed a small towel off the shelf, rinsing it in cold water in the sink. You squeezed off the excess and rushed to Vil, cursing at intervals where the water dripped onto whatever expensive material the flooring was made of. Was it expensive? You couldn’t tell. You placed it on his head gingerly. 

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned down and kissed his cheek.

Holy… what did you just do? You were taking advantage of him when he was out cold. If he was awake what would he say? Why did you do that? Why did that make your heart flutter?

“F-Feel better, Vil. I’ll be going now. Tell me when you wake up,” you sighed, patting your cheeks down.

You were a fool for initiating such an intimate act while someone was sleeping. You were also talking to said someone as if they were listening. It was best to excuse yourself now. Though maybe a little note would be helpful for when he wakes up. Your sleeves dipped. Your eyes went to the source of motion: Vil.

“Fairest… can you stay?”

You were at a loss for words. Vil called you “Fairest”– as if your other nickname didn’t exist. His face was flushed from the heat and his eyes were red and teary. What to do? What to do? What to do?

Vil tugged at your sleeves and pulled you onto the bed. Your mind went blank. You were on top of him, preventing yourself from crushing him with your weight, hands pinned on each side of his head.

“V-Vil?”

He pulled you onto him, then turned to the side, causing you to face each other. The blankets were ruffled, wrapping you two into a contorted position. The towel slipped off his face. You scrambled out of bed. Vil lunged for you, pulling you back in.

“I said stay,” he pouted.

“I know, I was just getting out of bed to get back in. Wait that doesn’t make sense?”

“It does,” he said, lifting the sheets so you could climb in,

You yelped as he pulled you into his chest, “Vil? What are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you today.”

“I’m here.”

“I wanted to go on another date with you.”

Date? Does he think it was a date too? Every single one? Great Seven, have mercy…

“You should rest. We can hang out here if you want.”

Your hold on his waist tightened. You inhaled the faint scent of his cologne. Perhaps to him, this was a fever dream. Stil, all love takes patience– if what you both felt was love, that is.

“Thank you for staying , (y/n).”

“...Do you want to talk about it? Usually you’re the one listening to me, but I’m here for you too. ”

Vil buried his head into your shoulders, “Nothing much. Just overworked. Stress came to me in the form of sickness, unfortunately. How inconvenient.”

He clicked his tongue while you giggled. Even if bedridden, Vil’s mind was as proactive as ever.

“Were you crying?”

“...”

“You don’t have to answer.”

How do you comfort someone? You’ve always been the one comforted, especially from Vil. Were you gaining more from the relationship than Vil did? You wanted him to cheer up though...

“No, no. It’s fine. It’s better to get it off my chest while you’re still here.”

What did he mean by that? You weren’t leaving. Why would you? How could you?

“Do you think I’m more than my appearance?”

He was shaking. Vil was shaking. What could have possibly happened from the last time you saw him? Was he alright?

“Why do you want my opinion? We both know you’re more than a pretty face.”

“Answer the question.”

“Alright, alright. I do think you have a pretty face. You’re gorgeous, very handsome… but you’re also hardworking, diligent, strong-willed, driven, intelligent, observant and more words that I can’t think of to describe how I feel about you. Oh and a great alchemist and friend I might add. Vil, you’re pretty. You’re beautiful. Inside and out.”

Your heart hurt. Calling him your friend didn’t sit right with you. He threw his head back in a fit of laughter.

“Did I ramble too much?”

“No, not at all. I feel much better so thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better then. Whatever happened, I hope you know that it doesn’t define you. If you feel like it does, then remember that I’m your biggest fan.”

Ah, too cheesy. You’ve gotten too comfortable around Vil to think about Anxiety or your verbal filter. When you were with him, words flowed as freely as time.

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

He didn’t say anything much about it. Was that not weird for him? Did you offer the solace he was looking for? He merely pulled away from your embrace. You thanked the heavens that his eyes were closed. If he made eye contact with you while you two were still sharing the same bed, you might as well ascend to the afterlife.

“Why do you ask though?”

“Oh I just had a miserable case of self-doubt is all. My manager kept taking roles that type-casted me as beautiful as the main character. I know I’m worth more than my looks- I want to be more than my looks-  but so far the industry has told me otherwise… but thank you, (y/n).”

He stayed like that for a while, inhaling and exhaling softly. Was he sleeping? How much time had passed?

“Vil. I have a question for you. You don’t have to answer if you’re not up to it. I know you have a lot on your mind right...” you said, breaking the silence.

“Shoot.”

“Will I be able to see you again after I compensate for the time I’ve wasted?”

“You don’t waste time. You don’t have to compensate for anything. I’m glad you’re here with me. If anything, I wasted your time.”

“But you said that we could talk about compensation later. It’s been over a year, Vil,” you whimpered.

“What do you mean by compensation?” he asked firmly, opening his eyes.

You choked on your own words. This was a bad idea. It might even offend him. Would if offend him? You wanted to know.

“Our first presentation. My anxiety attack. The infirmary. You helped me. I asked why then you said there was a price and we could talk about it later. But that conversation never came up. Why is that? Why did you come to the infirmary that night? Why did you take me in? Why am I here? Why do you still talk to me?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from spewing all of the questions you had for these past months. You needed to know. You needed your heart to shatter.

He sighed, “Good grief, (y/n). You remember all of that still? It’s not as bad as you think.”

He was offended.

“Please don’t say that.”

He inhaled sharply. 

“My apologies, potato. I didn’t mean it like that. But to answer your question, I felt guilty especially since I was the one who forced you onto the podium and made you redo the presentation because I couldn’t manage my first major acting role and my academics at the same time. I am sorry that you had to suffer the consequences.”

Vil turned onto his back. He brought his forearm to cover his eyes. Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? Did it hurt his pride? 

“I didn’t think of it like that. I’m sorry that I ruined our project because I couldn’t manage to improvise.”

“You shouldn’t apologize for that.”

“You shouldn’t either. Your feelings are just as valid as mine. Even if you don’t have anxiety, you still can feel anxious and overwhelmed.”

“Touché.”

“And the compensation?”

“You needn’t worry about that. My time is valuable indeed but you’re not a waste of my time at all. You’re worthwhile.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” you muttered.

“Hm?”

“What would have been the compensation?”

Vil turned to face you, rustling the sheets, “Are you that curious, Fairest?”

“F-Fairest?”

“Hm, yes it suits you now more than ever. Close your eyes for a moment. This should be quick.”

You obliged, closing your eyes. Vil wouldn’t do something terrible to you would he? He gripped your shoulders and pushed you flat on your back. You felt him shift his leg so he could straddle you. You instinctively cursed yourself in a ball.

“You can relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You loosened your muscles, trying hard not to burst into a fit of nervous laughter. You were scared.

“Fairest.”

“Yes?”

“How was your day?”

“Well, it was—mmmphhh!”

Vil had told you to keep your eyes closed, but how could you? Not when he was kissing you. You had waited for this moment. You fantasized about it, daydreaming, pining for him on the daily. You never saw it coming. Did he return your feelings? After all this time? You mewled as he bit your bottom lip. You were hot, feverish just like your beloved prefect. Was he alright? He was flushed, coughing as you pushed him away.

“My time has been compensated,” he smirked.

His expression quickly changed, “Hey! Why are you crying? Did I hurt you? That was too bold wasn’t it… Goodness (y/n)...”

You cupped his cheeks.

“Not at all. I’m just so happy that you feel the same.”

“Feel the same?”

You faltered. Was he toying with you? No, he wouldn’t…

“I-I like you a lot, you know. I don’t know of a time I didn’t. You’re so confident and I adore you for that. I love how you’re always there for me, how you always listen to me, and how you lean on me too. I love how you include me and see me no less than anyone else. I love you so much that my heart hurts,” you paused and moved your hands to clutch your chest, “But if it isn’t love then I suppose that’s fine too. I think I might be in love with the idea of you. It might be a little presumptuous here, spouting nonsense to you, but I don’t want to be just friends. Even if I am broken, I want to make you happy so please accept my feelings-!”

Cheesy. Too cheesy! You’re oversharing, (y/n). Stop. It. Death suddenly seemed like a viable option. You loved him so much that you must die. Yes, that was the only way.

Vil kissed you. This time, it was more of a peck.

“This whole time… you… I love you too, Fairest. I accept you and your feelings.  Thank you for being so patient with me,” he kissed the trail of tears running down your cheeks, “You already make me so happy. I love your innocence, your beauty—inside and out as you would say. I admire your strength to help others despite being in a world of your own. I love your selflessness and... your adorable reactions to situations that make you anxious. Please, tug at my sleeves some more.”

You pouted at the last bit. Vil was observant. You’ve come to learn that the hard way. The trait never withered.

He continued: “I will be in your care from now on.”

Ah. He was crying. Smiling too. What a sappy mess of emotions you two were, sobbing in each other’s arms over a mutual confession.

He flicked your forehead, “And don’t you dare call yourself broken. You are not below me and I am not above you. We’re in this together. I love you and you love me and you better love yourself too. You hear me, potato?”

“Yes, but–”

“Did I stutter?”

You pressed your forehead against his, “Will do, Vil.”

He lowered his weight onto you, nuzzling into your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck and combed through his champagne gold locks. You were sniffling. You were relieved that he loved you the way you loved him. You were relieved that you didn’t fall in love with potential. He loved you for you and you loved him the same. What if you weren’t good enough for? No, no, he said he felt the same. Stop overthinking, (y/n). 

You were drained after all this worrying. Being plagued by thoughts assuming the worst about him and the worst case scenarios concerning your confession consumed your mind. There was not a single day where your head was clear.

You were exhausted. So, so, so tired. Tired of thinking. Tired of Anxiety. Sleep seemed nice right now especially with Vil laying on top of you. The monster inside your head had gone dormant. All there was the thought of Vil being by your side, loving you and Anxiety all the same.

Your consciousness faded.

[ April, Someday– Vil’s Birthday, Pomefiore Dormitory Hallway ]

“Vil. Vil!!!”  you squealed, tackling your lover from behind.

He staggered on his toes, but recovered swiftly. He was tall. The stilettos made him taller. You were up to his shoulders, giggling, slipping under the long sleeves of the Pomefiore dorm uniform.

“Au revoir, Roi du Poison. Mademoiselle (y/n),” Rook chuckled and excused himself.

Vil gave Rook a look of disdain yet the vice prefect skipped along the halls, paying no mind to the daggers coming his way. Your beloved turned to you and smiled.

“Happy birthday~”

“You’re frisky today.”

“I’m excited.”

“I can see that. Thank you,” he pats your head.

“Are you busy?”

“I’m finishing up something. You’re welcome to wait in my room. Might I tell you that you look beautiful today? Red lipstick suits you.”

You followed him into his quarters, seating yourself on the bed, fiddling with the ends of your hair. He called you beautiful. You were giddy over something trivial. It was normal for one to call their significant other beautiful. In truth, he was the fairest, not you. You never minded. You loved watching him flourish in the spotlight.

You watched him undo his bun, letting his hair fall loose. The ends were curled, bouncing on his shoulders. He stepped into the bathroom to shed the dorm uniform off, opting for a black suit with faint floral patterns. Your eyes widened, coming to terms with the fact that he wore no dress shirt underneath the suit.

“You’re eighteen now, Vil,” you mused.

“What of it?”

“Oh nothing. I was just thinking.”

He hummed in response, “Is that so?”

“It feels like yesterday when we were both- what? Fifteen? Nevermind that. It’s silly. Would you like to see your gift now?”

“How does after the party sound?” he asked, lining his eyes with a thick eyeliner.

A thin smirk creeped up on his lips.

The look was similar to the standard ceremonial robes makeup. His silver chain-like earrings, leather choker and red heels threw off the professional look. Vil was striking. From what he told you, his producers had invited him to a party celebrating the release of a film he starred in. It was conveniently on his birthday. He spent the last few weeks convincing you to go with him. 

You gave in, but the thought of attending a social gathering with people you had never met before worried you. Vil reassured you that he would remain by your side at all times. You agreed on the spot, putting on a brave face for his sake. He promised to spend time with you afterwards. Just you and him. He even agreed to eat cake.

“I’m okay with that.”

“Thank you. I know you’re excited, but I want to save all the birthday related things for after.”

He set his makeup down and handed you a container of gel, climbing onto the bed while you got on your knees. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You never let me do your hair.”

“Think of it as a reward for coming along with me.”

“I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that,” you said, letting go of your embrace and popping off the container’s lid.

“I’m thankful, but don’t push yourself for me.”

“I won’t, don’t worry. Besides, I want to. You’re going to be busy after today. I want to spend as much time as possible with you today.”

He smiled and helped you push his hair back. Dipping your fingers into the cool aquamarine substance, you combed through your lover’s hair, bringing his bangs back. When you finished, he turned around to kiss you. He caught you off guard, but you leaned into the kiss instantly. It wasn’t passionate nor was it chaste. It was somewhere in between as to not smear your lipstick. You reached for his hair to deepen it, but he grabbed your wrists. Right. You had forgotten. 

“Later,” he whispered.

Your cheeks were dusted with a rosy tint. Later? As quickly as he pulled away from you, Vil slid off the bed. He passed by his mirror, patting down his suit and hair. Then, he extended his hand to you, “Shall we go?”

[ Land of Pyroxene, Venue’s Rose Gardens ]

Vil said it was a small social gathering. A small party. The amount of people was fair to his description, but the setting was overwhelming. It was sophisticated. There were fae servers and ice sculptures. You were surprised to learn that the soirée was held in his homeland. You were expecting a carriage yet he simply led you to the mirror chamber where the headmaster bid him farewell.

And here you are. You were in a rose garden differed from Heartslabyul’s greatly as the roses were as white as snow. They grew on pickets and hung over your heads like grape vines. It was scenic, ethereal, like something out of a fairytale. There was also a castle in the distance, adding to the regality of the venue. 

“Vil! Oh thank goodness you’re here. I almost thought you were going to leave me to fend against all of these actors wanting to know more about you,” a stout woman said, scrambling towards him, “Oh? Is this your– ohhhhh–”

“Adella, this is (y/n). Fairest, this is Adella, my manager.”

Vil paused, cueing you for an introduction. He glanced at you.

“Chin up, dear,” he wrapped an arm around your waist, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Breathe. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Adella was Vil’s manager. Like he said, she’s nothing to be afraid of.

“P-Pleasure to meet you,” you extended your hand out.

She took it with a death grip. Sheer willpower prevented you from wincing. 

“No, no, the pleasure is mine. Vil has told me so much about you. And my, he calls you ‘Fairest’ how adorable~”

“What has he told you?”

You heard his breath hitch. Vil’s arm slithered back to his side. Was that too much? You were curious, but what if that made him uncomfortable? You should apologize later. 

“Nothing much. I didn’t even know what you looked like even! His pet name for you suits you so well. Oh! I do know that he frequently asks about his schedule because he said that he wants to spend time with the s–”

“That’s enough now, Adella,” Vil said, crossing his arms and putting his weight on one foot.

Shoot. He was displeased. 

“Yes, yes, sorry. Shall we go greet your colleagues? You are free to mingle afterwards. I know that there was this one actor who was practically begging me to see you. You weren't here yet though so what could I do? Fufufu~”

“Are you coming, (y/n)?” Vil asked, turning his head to see you trailing behind.

You halted and pointed to the dessert table, “You can go on ahead.”

He nodded and followed his manager to the east side of the garden. You made your way to your own destination. While you wanted to go with Vil, meeting Adella set your nerves ablaze and drained all the social energy you had. Plus, you felt out of place when you stood next to Vil.

Compared to him, you could never pull off silver earrings. A pair of red heels simply looked better on him than they ever would on you. Then there was Adella who was also gorgeous with her messy bun and nude lipstick. She wasn’t a public figure yet you felt small around her presence. She exuded a lovable aura that drew people around her.  If you had to meet more people who were meant for the spotlight, celebrities no less, you could never manage through the night. If you avoided strangers, you should be fine. There were cake pops amongst other treats at the table. You were going to have a ball of a time.

You plucked the confection off its stand, examining it thoroughly. It was as luxurious as the party’s decor. The dessert resembled the poison apple the Beautiful Queen from the stories you were told as a child. Gold foil acted as the poison while a red coating of candy melts acted as the skin of the apple. You bit the top off. It was a vanilla sponge cake. Odd for an extravagant event like this as you assumed the flavors would be bolder. Maybe it was the kind expensive vanilla. Were they all the same flavor? You plucked another one from the stand, biting into it. Oh this one was red velvet with a cream cheese filling. Were there other flavors?

“My, my, you sure like the cake pops, don’t you?” a voice cooed.

You turned your head to meet the owner of that sweet voice. He had hair as black as ebony and skin as white as snow. His eyes were a warm chocolate brown. He wore a yellow jumpsuit with a red ribbon which was complemented by a black beret. He strained a smile at you.

“You needn’t look at me like a deer in headlights. It’s okay I like cake pops too,” he laughed.

“Who are you?”

“Eh? You don’t know who I am?”

You shook your head. He blinked twice. 

“I’m Neige LeBlanche, lead actor of the film. But, say, since you don’t know who I am, I’m assuming you’re someone’s plus one? You seem kind of young though...”

He took a cake pop from the stand, peeling off the gold foil.

“I’m Vil’s plus one.”

“Vil? I would have never guessed. I thought he said he wasn’t bringing someone. He didn’t seem like he wanted to either...” he mumbled something and paused, “As expected of my senior! Say, what are you to him?”

You pulled the ends of your hair, “I-I’m his girlfriend.”

“Is that so? He never mentioned having a girlfriend. I always thought he was going to end up–”

“We started dating a few weeks ago.”

“Oh my, that’s–”

“I have to go so if you’ll excuse me, Neige. It’s been nice meeting you. Congrats on the film,” you waved.

“No, no, the pleasure is mine, (y/n). I’m glad I got to meet Vil’s girlfriend. You were so sweet! I hope we can talk some more in the future! Oh I know–You should follow me on MagiCam! We can talk there,” he exclaimed, clasping his hands around yours.

He was so bubbly… You didn’t know how to handle him. Was this interaction not awkward to him at all? Your cheeks flushed as you excused yourself. You held your head down low and avoided eye contact with everyone you crossed paths with. Where you were headed to was a mystery, even to you. Anywhere was fine. Anywhere secluded. Anywhere without people, but close enough to trace your footsteps back to the rose gardens should anything arise.

Of course, that was the ideal scenario. In your situation, nothing was ideal per se. You were lost. You had trudged forward whilst looking at the ground, not getting a good look of your surroundings at all. It was hard to tell where you were. If you had known better, you would say that you were in a children’s book. The rose bushes towered high above your head and the castle was closer than it was before. In the center of it all was a gazebo adorned with intricate floral details. There was also a well to the side of the structure. You made your way to the gazebo and sat down on the bench, gazing upon the beauty of the raven sky. It glittered like a thousand fireflies.

You sighed, “The moon is beautiful tonight.”

[ Some Ungodly Hour, Venue’s Rose Garden ]

“Nghh…”

“You’re awake now?”

Vil? What was he doing here? The moon was high in the sky. It was late. You were resting your head on his lap. You sat upright in an abrupt motion.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Ruining the party by running off and falling asleep, wasting your time when you could have been talking to someone more important–”

Vil put a finger to your lips: “I was getting exhausted of people commenting on my looks anyway. You did worry me by running off though. To think that I had to ask Neige of all people too.”

That last part about Neige. Did he not like his co-star? He ran his hand through his hair while you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position. You opted to lean your head on his shoulder. Vil reciprocated by placing his head on top of yours, nuzzling it.

“The party is still ongoing so don’t worry,” he said, “Though you could have told me where you were.”

You exhaled. Thank goodness. It would have been embarrassing if it ended.

“Sorry about that.”

“Was it that exhausting for you? I told you not to push yourself for my sake. It makes neither of us happy.”

“At first, no, I wasn’t. I was a bit nervous around your manager but then Neige threw me off for a bit–”

“Neige? What did he say to you?”

“Nothing. He just asked what I was to you and I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“We’re leaving.”

“What? Why?”

Your stomach growled. You looked down at the ground. Suddenly the grass below your feet was the most interesting thing in the world. He took your hand firmly. His grip was different. He held you as if he was about to lose you.

“I had talked to everyone I needed to talk to. I’m done for the day and so are you. I would like to celebrate my birthday now with my dearly beloved if she would please.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a demand. There was no room for apologies.

You rose from the bench, grimacing at the soreness and took his hand, following him to the mirror.

[ Midnight, Vil’s Bedroom ]

Was he mad? He said he wasn’t. But then why was he handling you so roughly? Vil pulled you into the bathroom. He turned the faucet on, drawing water into the bathtub. He grabbed a bottle of bubble bath product and rose petals. He emptied the contents and discarded the containers onto the cool tiles. They rattled and echoed. Vil turned to his cabinets, searching for something. Strands of his loosely gelled hair swayed back and forth as he sifted through his cosmetics. He muttered gibberish as he found makeup wipes. Pulling you towards him, he began to wipe the gunk off your face. His motions were rigid, frantic, like he was wiping at a stubborn speck on a mirror. He turned you around and undid your dress’s zipper. The process was akin to a kitten’s first yawn. Slow, drawling yet somehow winsome. The act was intimate. Vil manhandling you was a first. It spawned many mixed motions. The positives outweigh the negatives, but was he alright? His eyes were ready to cry. They were glossy to the rim. When the zipper reached the end of its path, he pushed you aside and tended to his own face with a new wipe.

“Strip and get into the tub,” he instructed.

Strip? That was off-putting, especially from him. He didn’t want to have birthday sex did he? Or would he leave when he was done with his makeup? It had to be the latter. You held your sides, preventing the dress from slipping down your shoulders. But what if he did? What if he wanted to let out his frustrations on you? Was that it? He said he was more worried than upset, but his actions betrayed his words. He was tense. He could burst at any moment. Vil, as he was now, was a time bomb, ticking away. You feared he might break.

Vil snapped his fingers before you. You flinched. As you regain focus into the real world, you come to the sight of your lover in the tub, hair wet and his body leaning against the edge. His clothes were hanging on the laundry hamper. You looked away, excusing yourself under your breath. A tug on the hem of your dress stopped you in your tracks. He had broken. His eyes were red and puffy though no tears trailed down his fair complexion. You knelt down beside the tub, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“Vil…”

“Could you stay?”

“In the tub?”

“Only if you want to.”

Why is it that he could always see through you? Was your discomfort obvious? No, no, he was merely attentive. Then again, you were equally observant to everyone, especially towards Vil. Your darling was an open book, an easy read– the merit being that his words rarely matched his actions. He was a novel full of metaphors, eloquent tones and arbitrary words. Underneath the complications, he was as simple as the next composition. He was as insecure as any other person, if not more. To read Vil Schoenheit, you mustn't analyze his speech. Words fail in this case. You had to look for the little things: his weight shifting on one leg, his shoulders tensing, his eyebrows furrowing for a brief moment, his shortness of breath, his eyes.

In this very moment in time, Vil needed you. He said there was no obligation, but the small frown on his lips told you otherwise. He was aware of your own boundaries, but at times like these, when he needed you most, your instinct to reach for him, to hold him, triumphed over your murky thoughts. There was mutual trust between you and Vil, two profoundly regardful people. One was observant because he had a keen eye for details and all things beautiful. The other was observant because she was wary of the opinions of others.

Vil turned away from you as you let your dress and undergarments fall to the ground. His eyes were closed when you climbed into the tub.

“You never have to push yourself for my sake, Fairest,” Vil said as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your back closer to his chest.

“I don’t mind if it’s for you. I will tell you when I can’t do something, I promise.”

“You better,” he sighed.

You turned around and cupped his cheeks, “What about you? Are you alright? You’ve been so stiff ever since we left.”

You scooped some soap suds onto his hair, lathering and combing though his silky locks while you waited for him to formulate the right words.

“Fairest, do you think I am more than my appearance?”

You stopped mid-caress and nodded. His looks were always a touchy subject. Vil had a severe case of type-casting, a situation where he was only casted for roles with “beautiful” as the main attribute of the character. At first, he was content with them, but as time went on, he felt defined by his appearance. His hard work was futile in an industry that valued beauty over effort. Comments such as “you only got to where you are now because of your face” was a stab in the heart for Vil. He often sought out you or Rook for comfort. It came to the point where Vil frequently declined callbacks.

He continued, “No matter how much I talked to others about my role in the film or attempted to make more connections to those in the industry, they would always comment on my ensemble first. Sometimes they comment on how I look and nothing more.”

“So you feel invalidated for your efforts?”

“Yes, I feel like none of the work I put into getting where I am now. I feel like all I had to do was look pretty and everything will be handed to me… just like Neige. I want to be as pretty as him. I want to be as popular as him. I want to be recognized for my skills and get casted for the best roles. Not superficial ones. I want… I want....”

You embraced him as he choked on his own words.

“This is hypocritical since it’s coming from me, but you should never compare yourself or your efforts or progress to anyone else. You are enough as you are, at your own pace.”

His arms engulfed you. He kissed you, intertwining his tongue with yours.

“I’m sorry,” Vil said, pulling away. 

“I’m sorry too.”

“What did I tell you about saying sorry for something that’s out of your control?”

“But you’re apologizing too,” you laughed.

He snorted.

“But I do feel guilty for leaving you alone though. Maybe I could have said something for your sake. I feel even worse since it was your birthday.”

“We’re both pathetic in that regard.”

You scooped water onto Vil’s head. He did the same for you. You looked him into the eyes before averting your gaze. They were as intense as ever.

“I accept your apology though. In turn, you should accept mine.”

“I can’t. Sorry, Vil. You told me that I should never apologize for how I feel. Neither should you.”

“But I don’t have anxi–”

“You don’t have to have anxiety or anything to have a bad mental health day. You don’t have to have anxiety or anything to feel insecure or worthless. Those feelings are valid for anyone”

“You do have a point there,” Vil said as he tousled his hair.

“I have something for you. It may not be your birthday anymore,” you glanced at the clock, “but we haven’t slept yet so in my mind the day isn’t over yet.”

“What kind of logic is that?”

“Does it still feel like a ninth of April to you?”

“Yes, but technically it’s not.”

“Think of it as a feeling then,” you said and climbed out of the tub.

Vil assisted you in the process and got towels for you both. He languidly dried your hair.  His touch was soft like a ghost’s embosom. You could barely feel his touch. Then, he waltzed over to his dresser and gave you one of his silk pajama tops. While he was getting dressed, you grabbed your gift for him, sitting on the edge of the mattress waiting for him.

Shortly after, he plopped down on the bed. The pillows bounced on impact. You held the gift bag over his chest. He looked up at you then at the bag. Sitting up, he opened it.

“Well?”

Your lover tore through the tissue paper, revealing a small box wrapped in brown wrapping paper, red ribbon and twine. His eyes sparkled like a child on Christmas Day.

He read the present tag aloud: “‘To my darling: Vil Schoenheit. Happy birthday.’”

He undid the bow, careful not to ruin the label. He found the edges of the wrapping paper and picked off the tape piece by piece and discarded it on the ground. It fell with grace. Vil lifted the lid of the box.

“A book?”

“Open it.”

Granted, you were more nervous than he was. Would he like it? Today was not his day. You hoped to make him feel better. If he didn’t like it in the slightest, you wouldn’t know how to feel. You wanted to see him smile. It was his birthday. He did not deserve to feel insecure because of soirée guests. He did not deserve to feel so small when he was your world. In fact, he deserved the world for all that he was. He worked too hard not to. His efforts deserved to be paid off. Perhaps not every day, but for his birthday, he should have. It was his day.

Vil obliged, turning to the title page.

“Eighteen things I love about you,” he read.

You leaned over his shoulder.

“Did you honestly write an essay about your love for me?”

“No,” you said, burying your head into the crook of his neck, “Just look.”

“I jest, Fairest.”

Vil licked his finger and turned the page.

“Ah. A scrapbook? Let’s see… ‘Number one: I love how—”

You put a hand over his mouth, “It’s embarrassing if you read it out loud.”

“I think it’s endearing. Besides, I live for your flushed face.”

You whined and he let out a laugh.

“I’ll spare you. I’ll only read the first one aloud.”

“That’s fair,” you mumbled.

“I hope it is. Anyhow… ‘Number one: I love how you carry yourself with utmost respect. I love how you know your worth. I love how angry you are when you are undermined– because you know you are worth more than what the current situation offers. Your confidence is contagious as it inspires me to acknowledge my own worth, to be bolder and seek opportunities that are on par to my own capabilities.’”

He paused.

“What?” you asked.

“I like how you included a photo of us as freshman potatoes,” he said, running his fingers over the image as if he was wiping away dust.

“You always were always like a star to me, ever since we first met. It was hard to start off this scrapbook without referencing that.”

You twirled the ends of your hair.

“I’m glad that you see me in such a way.”

His voice was so soft, inaudible even.

“Vil?”

No response. He flipped the book to page two. Then to page three and so forth. He was still. His chest did not rise and fall each breath. He didn’t even blink. He stopped at the last page. It read: “I love you. You as a whole– the person you present to the crowd and the person you present to a select few. I love you for every flaw and insecurity. I love and accept you in the same way you love and accept me and more. I promise to love you forevermore– no shunning, no judging, just staying by your side and watching you grow into a person I fall in love with more and more every day.”

He pushed you down onto the bed and kissed you, dropping the book onto the ground.

“V-Vil…”

A sense of déjà vu washed over you.

He was vulnerable. He knew, you knew. His lips were quivering and his eyes were glossy. But did he like it? You tried so hard not to say that you liked him because of his looks. That was a touchy subject for him. Did that last one come off as too cheesy? You were told you were quite sappy on top of having an ability with words but still…

“What are you doing writing a bunch of wedding vows, you sweet potato?” Vil muttered as he cuddled you.

“I didn’t mean for it to come off like that. We’re barely a month into this relationship so that’s out of the question. I’m pretty sure we’re still in our honeymoon phase too. But that’s how I feel right now. So… What if I wrote a bunch of wedding vows to you? What of it?”

You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. Hopefully, he didn’t find your sudden confession cringe-worthy.

“I never said it was bad... I feel the same.”

He let the last part of his sentence trail off into silence.

“Do you feel better now?”

Was that out of place? Did that kill the mood? What if you soured his mood?

“Much better, thank you. I appreciate it and… I love you too. I know I don’t say it a lot, but I think you know that already.”

“I do.”

He peppered your face with kisses. Some were on your lips, Others were on your cheeks and forehead and occasionally trailed down your jawline.

“I also have something else for you,” you spoke up, pushing him off of you so you could grab another bag that you left by the foot of his bed.

“You spoil me, Fairest.”

“It’s not much. Just a cake I made for you.”

“A whole cake?”

“A cupcake, I mean. I know you’re not one for sweets.”

“And you left it in my room with no refrigeration.”

You pointed to the ice pack. He nodded. You pulled out a cake box, propping it open on Vil’s hands and told him to hold still. You placed a candle in the center and lit with a little spark of fire magic.

“Make a wish~”

“What am I? Twelve?”

“You have to make a wish.”

“Fine,” he said as he blew out the taper, “I wish to be with you for as long as possible.”

“You can’t say your wish out loud. It won’t come true!”

“Do you have any intention of separating from me?”

“N-No.”

“I don’t see why my wish won’t come true then,” Vil said as he cut the cupcake in half, handing you a piece.

“I guess you’re right about that.”

“Careful. If you get crumbs on my bed, you’re sleeping in the spare room.”

“...Understood.”

[ Present Day, Pomefiore Hallway ]

One moment he was dolling you up, the next he was wrapping a blindfold around your eyes and led you down the hallway to god knows where. You were still walking straight so you only assumed that you were still in the Pomefiore dormitories. Unless you walked through a mirror. Or maybe you simply had a terrible sense of direction. Whatever the case was, it did not change the fact that you were trembling.

“Vil. Where are you taking me?”

He exhaled. You could hear his chest heave.

“Darling, are you scared?”

Like how you could read him like an open book, he knew you like the back of his hand. You nodded and you felt him undo the blindfold. He held the ribbon in his hand and yours in the other. You looked into his eyes for comfort. He was wearing a single French braid. It was nostalgic. It was like you were first years again. He wasn’t wearing a school uniform, but it was enough to stir up fond memories. Instead, Vil wore a casual ensemble with a kimono-esque silhouette. He wore a white dress shirt with a pair of shapeless, high-waisted black dress pants. A cardigan with an ornate pattern accentuated the look, He wasn’t wearing the barrette you made him for his sixteenth birthday either, but you felt nostalgic regardless.

“I still need you to close your eyes for me though,” he said, putting the hand with the ribbon over your eyes, “I know you’re scared, but please hold on for a little longer.”

You nodded and closed your eyes. You felt his hand leaving your face, but the other was holding yours tightly, guiding you to your destination.

“Fairest, are your eyes actually closed?” Vil asked, breaking the silence.

“Y-Yes.”

You had been walking for a few minutes now. Where was he taking you?

“Vil, do you know what today is?”

No response.

“Vil… You’re scaring me.”

“We’re almost there, don't worry.”

Would it hurt to trust him for a little bit? You trailed behind him aimlessly. Your steps lagged behind his.

“You ready?” he asked, cupping his lanky fingers over your eyes.

You nodded. Whatever could it be? Lacking sight made Anxiety rattle against your skull. Was Vil going to push you off a cliff? Send you to your doom? No, no, no. He wouldn’t. That was too extreme, (y/n). Calm down.

He lifted his fingers off of your eyes, whispering a faint “happy birthday” to you. You gasped. Pomefiore lounge decorated with streamers and balloons– color coordinated to match both the dorm’s interior as well as your favorite colors. Rose petals were sprinkled on the ground. You heard Vil step away from you. You jumped as you heard something pop and turned around to find the source. Before you could react, a swarm of confetti went your way followed by a loud “surprise!”

You blinked twice, pulling bits of paper out of your hair..  You stepped forward and spun your heel. Were you dreaming?

“Hey, are you crying? I forbid you from crying. Your mascara is going to smear. Stop touching your face,” Vil scolded, running to your side, whipping out a handkerchief to pat your tears dry.

He had no confetti on his person. He was pristine.

“Vil… it’s wonderful. Thank you. I’m so glad you didn’t forget.”

“How could I forget? You must give me more credit, Fairest. I may not have the time to be with you every day, but I’m not cruel as to forgot your birthday,” he huffed, pulling you into a hug.

He was right. He could have never forgotten. Was he mad that you doubted him? He didn’t seem irritated. It wasn’t like him to forget such an important date. You’ll give him credit for being a good actor; he fooled you well. He ignored you for almost two weeks. Whenever you brought up your birthday, he brushed over it and changed the subject. You were on edge the entire time. A weight was lifted off your chest.

“I know you’re not one for parties, but I figured I’d go all out for a small group of people you are comfortable with. You’re seventeen now. Rejoice, my dear.”

You pecked his lips, “This is fine. Thank you so much.”

Snap!

“Cute~ Hashtag: Vil-Did-Not-Forget. Hashtag: (y/n)’s-Growth Record. Hashtag: (y/n)-And-Vil-Forever. Hashtag: Birthday. And posted! Happy birthday, (y/n)-chan~”

“Ah. Thank you, Cay-kun.”

“Did you have to do that?” your lover asked, hands on his hip.

“It’s fine, Vil.”

He nodded. You hoped he wouldn’t bicker too much with Leona as the upperclassman was lounging a bit too close to the throne for [Vil’s] comfort. You sighed as he went to the refreshments table.

“You’ve grown for much,” Cater said with crocodile tears, hugging you.

“I’m still the same height.”

“I didn’t mean that, silly.”

“What did you mean then?”

“Nothing, much. You just look happier. Anyways, here’s your present. Continue to blossom, m’kay?”

You took the gift: “Alright?”

“Cater. Mind your manners. You’re being rude. According to the–,” a voice called.

“I don’t think I am, right, (y/n)? Tell Riddle for me~” he pouted.

His eyes widened as the complexion of Heartslabyul’s prefect grew as red as his hair. 

“Hey now. Let’s not fight,” Trey, the vice prefect, hurried over to pat Riddle’s back.

You sighed, “There’s nothing to worry about, Riddle.”

You could have sworn you saw a vein deflate on his forehead as he mumbled something about the rules. He handed you a bouquet of roses.

“Happy birthday, (y/n).”

“Let’s take a Heartslabyul selfie to celebrate! Say cheese!”

No one said cheese. The flash flickered before your eyes as you held the flowers close to your nose. Riddle’s eyebrows were scrunched together. He was socially awkward in that aspect.

“Hashtag: Heartsla…”

Cater’s words faded. Since when have you been comfortable taking pictures with him. It was nice. You felt pretty today. Was it because Vil dolled you up to a T? You hugged the bouquet closer to your chest as you walked towards the refreshments table.

“Oi. Herbivore. Watch the tail,” an all too familiar voice groaned.

“Good afternoon to you too, Leona.”

“Here’s your present.”

He handed you a small box and he waved you goodbye. Was he not going to stay? You watched his back get smaller and smaller as he walked out of the Pomefiore Lounge. He wasn’t big on parties either. That was alright.

You continued the refreshments, stopping occasionally and accumulating presents here and there, engaging in idle chatter. Soon, your arms were full of trinkets and parcels. You panted as you set the gifts onto a spare table.

“You’re quite the attraction,” Vil said, sipping on a glass of apple cider.

“I don’t really think I’m–”

“Own it for a day, will you? You look absolutely divine.”

“Thank you, Vil.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “My pleasure, Fairest.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #fave #self indulgence #happy birthday to meeee

[that-little-zebunny]

Skin to Skin (First Date)

Pairing: Loki x Avenger!Reader

Warning: Angst, little Gorey-ish details, Fluff

WC: 2,151

Summary: You're new to the team and end up messing it up with the God of mischief on your first day in. Knowing his reputation you're up for a fun time in the compound.

Note: First of all thank you so much guys for the warm acceptance you gave on our 1st part T....T y'all made my heart so so happy. I hope you'll enjoy this part and I'd love to know how you think. Its a bit long so yay enjoy.

2nd day of our wonderful HBC's Week of Love for the lovely @the-th-horniest-book-club 🥰

You know what's the fun part of fighting the bad? It's that it doesn't choose a great time. It pops up as randomly as it can. So here you are on your second day trying to go around and meet people, when you got a message to suit up.

Small details are that you and your team are going to keep an eye on one of hydras abandoned bases because Friday had detected some activity there.

What you didn't know is the team you speak of is just you, the Falcon, Natasha and Loki. Yup, how fun will it be? You and the person that doesn't like you in one deadly work. You won't be surprised if somehow between the fighting you'll be stabbed by him. You shook your head to remove the thoughts running in it. You really should stop watching suspense shows. You sighed.

After almost three hours in the air you all finally made it in the location. You scratched your head when you saw that the area is surrounded by a lot of trees.

"Looks like we're up for a fun hide and seek game if there's really people here now." Nat said as she fixed all the weapons secured on her belt. Sam agreed. He activated three of his cute little drones to help out with securing the area for treats.

"We should go. All these small talks will not vanish our enemies." Loki said walking past the three of you. You pouted.

"I think that's mostly because of me. Sorry guys." You said as you finished fixing your knives on your belt and grabbing your metal staff. It's your main weapon because it keeps you from getting near anyone when it's not needed.

"No worries cookies, he's like that to everyone. He didn't really have a choice in being here. He's banished here to help." Sam said using the silly nickname they all choose to give you after you delivered tons of cookies to them.

You look at Loki's retreating back sadly.

You're able to get inside the rusty building without encountering anyone.

"This is a bit creepy. How did Friday detect anything here? There's no one in about 10 kilometers." Sam said as he checked the tech in his arm.

"Maybe it's a ghost?" You joked which earned you a strange look from them. "What? I watch movies." You rolled your eyes at them and continued going to another part of the building to check. It looks like you're in a laboratory slash surgery room. That gave you chills. You tried to not imagine how many bodies were cut and gutted in here.

"You have a very unique mind." Someone said which made you squeak. You turned around swinging your staff towards the voice but was halted by a sting hand. Loki held the end of your staff smirking at you.

"Crap…" you whispered. You didn't do anything again didn't you? "I-I'm sorry." You bit your lips as you relaxed, removing your staff from his hold.

"For someone that works with emotions you do suck at it." He said, smirking at you.

You scratched your nape as you stared up at his face, his very very beautiful face. Ugh!

"I know. Its been a challenge controlling my own. I was so used at controlling others." You said remembering your childhood. How you tried to mold your always bickering parents to play nice when you're around and to act as if they loved you. You know they hated it and they hated you but what can you say you were ten and scared. But they didn't care. All they know is you're an anomaly and that they rather not be around you. That's why as soon as your grandma offered they toosed you away like a hot potato.

You shook your head as your most dreaded memory came up. You frowned and turned to look at Loki again.

"Was that you!?" You asked. You're gritting your teeth as you feel the rage consume you. He just stared down at you smirking wickedly. You boinked away the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. "We're even now." You said gripping your staff.

"Yes we are." He proudly said as he went around checking if he could find anything useful and you did the same.

It really was a lab and they've experimented on people trying to make a brain dead person have functions again. That made your stomach turn especially when you saw the reports of how the patients reacted to that. Some were like dummies and some became vicious. And so many more that you end up closing the files you're reading and you just grabbed them.all to bring them back with you.

"Find anything else?" You asked Loki but he didn't answer so you went to look what he's doing in the room he went in. You found him staring at a cradle.

"There's a body here." He said. That alerted you. Especially when you saw him touch the cradle to open it using his power.

"Nooo Loki don't!" You shouted as the cover of it opened up releasing some kind of gas. Knowing the few things you've read if your guess is correct this is gonna be bad.

You ran to him to grab his arm to pull him away but he didnt move so when you saw the sharp claw like hands coming out the gas you didn't think much and just went in between Loki and the thing.

You gasped in pain as you felt the slicing on your back.

"Good norns! Y/N! You dumb, dumb mortal!" He shouted as he caught you in his arms when your legs gave out. He looked behind you and flicked his hands green mist went to take away the life from the girl from the cradle. You heard its body make noise as it fell down.

Still in Loki's embrace you tried to breathe deep but it ended up just you gasping painfully. The cuts must have been deeper than you thought.

"L-Loki…" you pleaded with him as you felt your breathing start getting shallow and you feel like you're drowning. You must have blood on your lungs by now. You tried to swallow the sobs that tried to get out of your lips and you just stared up at his face. He really have a nice face. It's unfair.

You must have lost your mind because when he caught you staring you smiled up at him which in return got you another frown.

"Stop admiring me. I know I look better than the normal midgard male population. You really must be dumb, why did you jump infront of me. I'm a God I won't be hurt by a mere scratch." He said as he helped you to lay down on the floor as he called out to Nat and Sam on his coms. He turned you on your side to check your injury and you heard him take in a breath.

"Is it bad?" You asked thinking of the worse based on his face.

"Don't get your brain all rilled up, Cookies. It'll be alright." You giggled when you heard him call you on your new nickname.

"S-so I'm cookies to y-you now too." You coughed but still smiling.

"Oh you need to shuush." He said but you can hear the smile in his tone. So your stupidity got you on his goodside.

"How can I s-shuush. This might be my last time to talk. What i-if some parasite is now in me and I'll start walking and biting people." You caughed again as you felt something soothing on your back.

"You need to change what you watch Y/N. That's not healthy anymore." He said, shaking his head. Your back is starting to feel nice now and your head is like it's floating. You giggled again as you touched his face. Even in your groggy brain you felt his emotions. Scared, amused and adoration. Is that all for you? You smiled at him again as your eyes were about to close.

"You should date me Loki." You said. His eyes went wide as he steadied you to pick you up.

"That's the soothing magic talking." He said as he started to walk.

You're about to walk past the table where you put down the files you found when you remember how important they are.

"Wait! Wait! Lemme grab those." You pointed to the tall stocks of folders.

He walked near it and you grabbed them and hugged them on your chest like your life depends on it.

You feel proud of yourself getting them or being carried by Loki. You're not sure which anymore and before he even finds your team you fell asleep.

You woke up in what you guessed as the med bay. You tried to get up and looked around to find no one. You brushed your hair with your hand as you tried to stand but got dizzy. You tried to grip the bed frame for support but you're too slow so you just let yourself fall. You're about to kiss the floor when two strong hands caught you and relief and annoyance flooded your brain.

"You must enjoy being in my arms." He teased as he helped you back on the bed.

"You got nice arms." You joked as you went back on your bed. You took a deep breath and seriously asked him "how did the rest of the mission go?"

"Well, the Widow was able to find some scavengers that tried to loot the structure they came back there before we left and they must have been the ones who triggered Friday's system. The monstrous thing that attacked you is dead officially and we didn't find another of it but we did find a mass grave behind the building." He explained as he sat down on the side of your bed.

You thanked him and relaxed knowing there's no more of that thing around.

"Do you like steak or do you prefer the simple ones?" Loki suddenly asked. You looked at him confused.

"What for?" You asked.

"You have offered me to date you. Have you forgotten?" He said, smirking at you. You felt your cheeks heat up. Crap you did. Mid thinking about tobe a zombie parasite walker time. You looked at him waiting for him to say he's joking but nothing . He just raised one gorgeous eyebrow as he waited.

"You're serious?" You covered your face with one hand as you tried to let what he's saying sink in.

"Very serious, you've felt my darkest emotions I've seen your darkest memories don't you think we're past the getting to know part Sam keep on babbling about?" He said as he slowly touched your elbow with a finger and you felt his sincerity and adoration. Your brain feels like it's about to explode. This majestic person really wants to go out with you. Omg!!!

You slowly nodded and he smiled.

"So stake or not?" He asked again.

"I like steak." You answered back. He smiled and left. Leaving you with so many emotions that you never felt before as your own. Joy, giddiness and something you can't name.

A week after you're out of being stuck on a medical bed you and Loki went to that date. You still can't believe it's happening. He even did all the preparations and stuff. He brought you to a gorgeous restaurant with beautiful music and the tastiest stake you ever had. It was so much fun. He's very funny in his own way. You're both enjoying a walk before going back to the compound when you felt Loki grab your gloved hand. You look up at him.

"What's wrong?" You asked. He just smiled and kissed your hand.

"I'm just very glad I gave myself a chance to know you more and not let what happened to us on our first meeting get to me. You're a very fascinating and beautiful lady Y/N. Thank you for being with me today." He said. You smiled warmly at him as you took off your gloves. You stashed them in the pocket of your coat and brought your hands up to his face but didn't completely touch him.

"May I?" You asked and you saw his face softened. You told him that you will never touch him without his permission.

"Yes…" he answered as he held both your hands and brought them close to his face. He closed his eyes and sighed at the feel of your skin. Feeling that strange feelings again that you can't name you're not sure if it's yours or Loki's emotion. You stepped closer to him and tiptoed to reach his waiting lips. You can't wait to understand that strange feeling but for now you're gonna enjoy how good it feels.

Tag list

Skin to skin: @delightfulheartdream @victias @kaogasm @marvelgirl7 @alexakeyloveloki @newdaynewyearnewlife @multifandomlife22

Tom Hiddleston and Characters: @jewels2876 @jobean12-blog @CurlyRed2020

The ones with stikes, I cant tag you guys i dunno why T.T

#hbc week of love #the th horniest book club #the th hbc #loki x reader fan fic #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader drabble #loki x reader imagine #marvel loki #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson fluff #loki x reader #zephirahnyxwrites

[a-pirate-my-hearties]

“My hobby is making fun of you when you talk.” or “We’re not going to steal someone’s dog.” with Colonel Tavington?

#69. We’re not going to steal someone’s dog

Ship: Colonel Tavington/Female Reader

Words: 946

Warnings: animal abuse

"This is ridiculous.”

Tavington crossed his arms, displeased expression on his face, lips pressed into a thin line. He had enough trouble with his subordinates’ behaviour without Y/n’s wild ideas. Somebody has been insolently stealing food from the kitchen, one of the army’s messengers has gone missing two days ago and now this? He could not stand all that chaos.

"Y/n, that’s one of the most irresponsible things you’ve ever t – "

"Tavington, save yourself all that patronizing talk, alright?”, said Y/n in a raised tone. She was fuming. She knew Tavington will be obstinate, as he’d usually be, but this time she won’t let him. "There’s an animal suffering out there. I saw it.”

"We’re not stealing someone’s dog!”, Tavington hissed, almost losing his composure. Little did he know, it was more about his concern for Y/n’s safety than the actual decision she wanted to make, however responsible or not. Y/n hasn’t been the British army’s spy for long, but she was one of the best, though still almost a child, barely eighteen. Her brazen, open, honest personality in contrast with the discreet, dangerous work she was doing. Tavington wasn’t sure why, but he… was quite fond of her. She was one of the very few people who actually dared to speak openly to him, not caring for the societal expectations nor his reputation and though most would find that dangerous or stupid, he found it admirable and courageous.

But he’d rarely admit it.

He watched Y/n drawing a deep breath before she spoke.

"William, listen”, she said almost pleadingly, "I saw that dog being mistreated the other day. Kicked, downtrodden like a useless puppet.”. She swallowed hard, eyes suddenly downcast. Then she looked Tavington in the eyes with a newfound courage.

"I know how you feel about your horses – were somebody to touch them without your permission, harm them, you’d give them lashing in no time. How’s a dog any different?!”, she finished with passion, waiting for his answer.

There was a moment of silence before Tavington spoke, gathering his words.

"Y/n… a well cared-for horse in the army… is a necessity. It’s not quite the same.”, he said, drawling every word carefully. Nothing could quite escape Y/n’s observant eye and that was beginning to annoy him. He saw her opening her mouth to speak. "But then I guess”, he continued in a quasi-annoyed tone, "I can make an exception for you. Only this one time.”

Y/n gasped in glee and clapped her hands and made a move as if she wanted to hug Tavington, but he only cocked an eyebrow at her, giving her an amused expression and she nodded, staying in place.

"Thanks William.”

"But be discreet. If anyone sees you, I don’t know you.”

Y/n smiled. She knew it was not true. The last time she had trouble coming back from her mission, he sent four of his best men after her.

"Don’t worry about me.”

He shook his head and smirked. "Now go.”

~*~*~*~*~

Y/n knew how to be invisible, swift and quick. She decided to move in by the dusk, luckily the house she was aiming for was not far from the quarters the army was staying in.

Treading carefully behind the trees, she saw the little dumpy cottage. By the cottage there was an equally miserably looking kennel and by the kennel layed the thinnest, dirtiest dog one’s eyes could have ever see. Even though Y/n has seen him before, her heart still squeezed in pain and sympathy towards the neglected animal. She had to hide further beneath the tree when one of the inhabitants of the house went outside to spill out the hogwash on the already dirty, muddy ground.

"What are ye lookin’ at, ye useless, dirty parasite!”, the man shouted at the dog, kicking it in the ribs and spitting on the ground before returning to the cottage. The dog whimpered pitifully and tucked his tail between his legs.

Y/n was furious, but she remembered she had to be quick and quiet. She picked out a piece of juicy meat from her pocket and started slowly approach the dog with her hand outstrechted towards him.

"Here, doggy doggy!”, she whispered in an inviting tone, smiling at the dog, then looking at the windows of the house, controlling the situation. It took her a moment to pique the dog's attention, for he was so beaten and tired. But the smell of the meat made his ears point slighlty and his foggy stare focus just a little bit. He stood up and looked around for the source of the smell.

"Here, doggy doggy, such a good dog”, whispered Y/n, moving backwards towards the trees, the dog slowly following her now. It took only a few more moments and they both were in the safe distance from the cottage.

"Got you! Such a good boy”, Y/n said, petting the neglected animal, that looked at her with pleading, glassy eyes. "Here boy, eat. I have more for you at your new home.”

~*~*~*~*~

"Good God, what is that creature?”, Tavington asked, partly disgusted, partly pitying the animal.

Y/n simply glared at Tavington before going back to feeding and pettting the dog. "You will be so beautiful soon, he’ll see, we will take such good care of you”, she talked to the dog in a low silly voice, earning a groan from Tavington.

"Another mouth to feed. Splendid.”

"You let me do it, Tavington, now deal with it.”

He let out a heavy sigh. "I suppose I did. What shall we name him?”

Y/n looked up at Tavington, feigning the expression of deep thought.

"I think… we shall name him Bill.”

***

Before anyone says anything about the reader’s age here, I see their relationship in this particular drabble as more of a brother/sister kind of relation? It made more sense for this request :) I hope it’s ok! :)

Also this is obviously not the height of my writing abilities and I’m sorry, but I hope you can still enjoy it 😅

#answered asks #anon #colonel tavington #william tavington #my writing #blanka writes #colonel tavington drabble #tavington/female reader #colonel tavington/female reader #the patriot

[thechosenburrito]

The Heart Gambit (Dennor): 5-Too Clever by Half

Word Count: 1,460

Description:

Lukas and Mathias agreed to go to the park together, but are bogged down thinking about personal issues.

Author’s Note:

Yessss more Dennor.  I’m having so much fun writing so I hope you guys like it.  I’m so excited to write more this summer so let me know what you want me to write more about!  Notes, asks, and comments mean so much!

Previous: 4-Treat me like a Fool

.

.

.

The sun peeked between the curtains in Lukas's room.  He stirred a bit, regretting the promise he made to Mathias.  He pulled himself out of bed and started heating some water for coffee.  It was, unfortunately, instant coffee but it was the best thing he could do considering the circumstances.  He threw open the curtains to let the light fill the room and was met with complaints from Emil.

"You know, just because you get up at the ass crack of dawn, doesn't mean the rest of the world does." Emil groaned as he rolled over in bed.

"I'm making coffee."

Emil set up and started pulling on some day clothes.

"I hate you."

Lukas poured two cups of instant coffee and left one on the nightstand next to Emil.

"I hate you less now."

Lukas sat at the edge of his bed and looked out the window.  He sipped his coffee and began thumbu=ing through the book at the foot of his bed.

"I take it you're up this early because you're going to the park with Mathias," Emil said, blowing on his coffee?

"You heard that?"

"I had my ear pressed to the door of course I did."

Lukas closed the book.

"Well, I did promise to go.  That doesn't mean I wanna go," Lukas replied in a bit of a huff.

Emil stood up and pulled on a shirt.

"Yeah but you can still say no."

"I know that."

Emil sat back on the bed and started trying his shoes.

"Well, then if you don't wanna go, call him and cancel."

"I'm not gonna do that."

"Why not?"

"Because..."

"Because you wanna go."

"I didn't say that-"

"Admit you wanna go with him!" Emil almost screamed, pulling on a jacket.

"Why are you like this!?...and where are you going?" Lukas said, looking up from his book to see that Emil was fully dressed and heading towards the door.

"You need to admit that you have feelings for 'that asshole' because you keep repressing it and messing with your brain!  It's just gonna make your life worse to ignore it."  Emil said opening the door.

"And I'm going sightseeing.  We're in Italy, and I'm probably never coming back here again so I'm gonna enjoy it."

"Have fun on your little park date or whatever." 

Emil stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Lukas stood up from the table and threw himself back on the bed, burying his face in his hands.

"What's wrong with me?" he muttered under his breath.

Was this a date? No, right?  Definitely not a date.  It was just two people going to a park to hang out.  Two people who just so happened to be competing in the biggest Chess competition in the world.  Two people who also happened to share an oddly intimate moment yesterday.  Wait that sounded wrong.  Not like that.  He rolled over in the bed.  It's fine, they're just friends.  What's the worst that could happen?  If Mathias didn't have feelings for him then everything would be fine.  Lukas would just keep living his life and after the competition, he would never have to see Mathias again.  But if Mathias did have feelings...things would be much more complicated.  As much as spending his life with Mathias, maybe getting a house somewhere, or traveling the world, it just wouldn't work out.  The media would be all over it.  Not to mention what would happen to Emil.  But most of all, when Lukas really thought about it, he just had too many flaws to be in a relationship.  Maybe but Mathias did like him, but not really him, some kind of strange idealized version of him.  Maybe that's what happening, Lukas didn't love Mathias, did he?  Was it even real?  If it wasn't real, would he think about him this much when the literal biggest match of his life was only days away?

Lukas let out a long sigh and rolled out of bed.  He pulled on his clothes and made his way to the door.  He wasn't getting Mathias out of his head by sitting around in his room.

- - -

Mathias rolled over in bed to snooze his alarm.  He'd already done this 3 times and regretted telling Lukas to meet him so early in the morning.  But he figured that Lukas was probably more a morning person and would think he's weird for getting up at noon.

Mathias groaned and dragged himself out of bed.  He hissed, half-jokingly, as he drew open the curtains to see that the sun had just barely risen completely.  He made his way to the bathroom, catching a glance at a notepad he had been writing on the night before.  Last night's phone call with Alfred came back all at once.

"So you're telling me you DIDN'T talk to him yesterday."

"I...no I didn't get to.  His brother showed up, but Lukas never did."

"*sigh* ...you're killing me here Mathias."

"Hey, I tried!  It's not my fault he didn't show!"

Mathias started brushing his teeth.

"I know I know...look you just need something on him!"

"I thought this was about getting in his head and figuring out his strategies.  You know, so I can actually win?"

"Look there's been a change of plans."

He started styling his hair.

"What kind of change?"

"Well...I've been thinking about it, and you don't have to win the match on Sunday."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look, if you win on Sunday, everything will be great!  You'll have the title, maybe you do a few commercials, a couple of brand deals, the whole shebang! ...but if you lose... it doesn't have to be a deal-breaker anymore!  If you can dig up something on the other guy we can maybe... um... make it so that... you know..."

"You want to frame him for cheating?"

"Woah Woah Woah!  That's your idea, not mine haha...  Of course, we wouldn't frame him for cheat... but we could sure take the wind of his win you know... make you look like you were against the odds..."

Mathias started pulling on his clothes and putting on his shoes.

"Look I don't need that, man.  I'm a good player."

"No yeah no I know that.  I'm not talking about that.  I'm talking about finances., deals, the money!"

"And I'm talking about me winning the match."

"Since when did you care about winning?"

"I don't!"

"Well, you don't care about winning, and it's sounding like you don't care about money, so what do you care about then!?"

Mathias checked his reflection and headed to the park.

- - -

Lukas was huffing and puffing.  He hadn't realized how much walking with going to the park would involve.  He looked around and came to the realization that he was so far into the park that he had no idea where he was.  He just kept wandering around until he eventually saw a small lake.  There was a bench at the edge of the lake with someone sitting on it.  Lukas didn't care who it was, at that point, he knew his knees were about to buckle.  He made his way over to the bench and sat down on it.

"Sorry... if I bothered you... I just really... needed a break," Lukas said, trying to catch his breath.

Lukas turned to see that it was, in fact, Mathias.  He was digging in a paper bag for a slice of bread.

"I mean, you're not bothering me!  Considering I asked you to come!" Mathias beamed, passing him a slice of bread.  "I was getting a little worried 'cause I realized that I forgot to tell you where to meet me.  But hey!  You made it!"

Lukas smiled a bit.  He looked at the slice of bread Mathias handed to him.  It was a bit stale, but he wanted to be polite.  He took a bite of the bread.

"Woah what are you doing!"

"...eating..."

Mathias laughed.

"No silly!  That's for the ducks!"

Lukas swallowed.

"Oh."

Mathias started tearing pieces of bread and tossing them into the water.  Ducks and their ducklings paddled their way over to the edge of the small lake and started picking at the pieces of bread.  Lukas did the same, occasionally holding his hand out to Mathias for another piece of bread. 

Lukas yawned, remembering that he only had one sip of coffee.  Was he really sleeping that badly all the time?  He rested his head on Mathias's shoulder and felt himself blush.

"Heh... uh... you know I think I heard somewhere that you're supposed to feed them seeds and not bread.  I think bread is bad for them or something..."

Mathias's voice faded out as Lukas drifted off on Mathias's shoulders.

.

.

.

Next Chapter: 6-Someone else’s Parasite (Coming Soon!)

A/N:

This is technically late but I had fun writing it that’s all that matters!

I’m going to take this time to plug my non-hetalia work “ Intro to Love ” (on Wattpad) about a college student who struggles to keep her superpowers a secret and while making new friends.  How much of her normal life will she give up to save her friends from a mysterious villain that drains students’ brains and turns them into zombies?  The complete Chapter 1 is out NOW AND so is Chapter 2.1-'The last of the Good Days’!  Go read them!  Right now!   They’re waiting for you!  Chapter 1.1 is here on my tumblr!

Thanks again for reading! Send some feedback my way! Can’t wait to continue this story!

Quotev link: here

#hetal #hetalia nordics #hetalia denmark #hetalia noway #hetalia dennor #dennor #hws #hws nordics #hws denmark #hws norway #hws dennor #norway x denmark #denmark x norway #hetalia fanfiction

[cno-inbminor]

ipsum exitio (PREVIEW)

a/n: i wanted to give you all little snippets from this long fic i’m working on -- currently sitting at ~21k and there’s still a decent amount to unfold and unravel. hope you all look forward to this! and a huge, ginormous thank you to @a-kaashi for helping beta this!!

estimated release: in ~2-3 weeks

plot: self-destruction is in the calm before the storm, in the eye of a hurricane. but when the forces are right, the winds are rapid enough, the catalysts send you hurling, you find yourself leaving a monstrous and disastrous path in your wake.

characters: ushijima wakatoshi, semi eita, iwaizumi hajime, and male oc w/fem!reader possessing vagina/uterus/uterine-system (other oc’s also included)

genre/warnings: (+18) slice of life, angst, descriptions and moments of high anxiety, explicit smut (w/slight degradation, size kink, spanking, etc.), virginity loss, mentions of alcohol, talks about virginity and sex toys, slow burn, pining, implied bisexual reader, (more might come up later)

-

A breeze flows in through the open window of your apartment, softly caressing your face as you lean against the sill on your elbows. You drink in the view of Tokyo at night like a fine wine sliding down your throat, attuning to all your senses. With tear ducts dry and dust caked along the rims of your eyes, they shut in defeat, the semblance of a white flag splayed on the back of your eyelids. Cars honk in the distance and your legs struggle to support your weight. The scent of sulfur from the earlier downpour teases at your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch a bit as you openly take in the scenery before you again.

A nearby billboard flashes bright, mechanically cycling through advertisements and never resting. The LED lights paint a picture that you are all too acquainted with, even more so with the man in the frame. Your body is plunged into a lake of bitter nostalgia as your heart wrenches painfully. Instead of fighting against the resistance of the water and gravity, you succumb to the anchor dragging you down, knowing that eventually, the waves will recede, and you will return to shore again.

Inhale. Count. Exhale.

Breathe.

-

11 years ago

Perhaps you had become a burden to Wakatoshi. You had turned into the thorn in his side, something he no longer wanted to tolerate and keep in his life. Perhaps it was expected, you bitterly thought while shrugging off his jacket. The bite of the cold night teethed and gnawed at your skin, but the pain is almost welcomed now. He took the fabric without a word, only feeling slightly guilty at the sight of stray tears gradually streaking down your cheeks.

“Okay,” you sniffled, arms wrapped around yourself again for some vague sense of protection. “That’s fine, I get it. You have Nationals and the Youth team as well – it’s mainly best for you to end this.”

“(Y/n) –”

“It’s really okay, Wakatoshi. I appreciate you being straightforward with me. I’ll see you at practice,” you quickly interjected and turned to trek back towards the dorm, sending a quick but lifeless wave behind you. The shards of whatever was left of your soul trailed behind you like scattered stars on the concrete. Even when your roommate and friend brought your disheveled figure into her arms, they did little to ward off the parasitic spectres in your mind.

-

7 years ago

A bio was set, photos strategically ordered, and you were tossed into the world of online dating.

“This is a really bad idea,” you groaned ten minutes later as Sayuri swiped through the profiles showing up in your pool. “I haven’t even slept with anyone before.”

“Oh honey, I bet half of these men only ever got their dick wet once and came in two minutes flat. They think they’re impressing someone but they’re only fooling themselves,” Sayuri scoffed and then grimaced at a man’s daringly shirtless mirror selfie. “This poor guy needs to eat more; I can see his ribcage! You don’t need someone who doesn’t appreciate food.”

“What if he’s got an eating disorder?” You seriously speculated, heart going out to the possibility of that.

“Well now you make me feel bad after swiping left on him and – oh hey! You got a match!”

“What? Who the hell did you swipe right on?!” You screeched; chin craned to get a good look at the person on your phone.

-

4.5 years ago

With a duffel bag slung on his shoulder, phone in hand, dark skinny jeans, a casual pale blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up , his reflexes were quick enough to recognize the human bundle of joy sprinting towards him. Eita’s best memories of you were in your Shiratorizawa uniform, so seeing you in casual streetwear threw him for a loop at first.

The earnest beam on your face could warm the iciest of glaciers, and he easily lost against the facial muscles fighting to form into his own smile. As you deftly dodged the other people in your route to him, his arms seemed to naturally fall open in a gesture that welcomed your inevitable embrace. Eita was pretty sure you squealed before jumping onto him, but his focus had to redirect to his arms so they didn’t drop you.

“Semi Semi!” You happily cried out into his ear over the hustle and bustle, arms tight around his neck as he held you close. He gave you a brief, affectionate squeeze before setting you down, causing your arms to fall. But his hands held onto your shoulders, giving you a quick once-over and making his assessment. He always had a soft spot for you back in high school, knowing that it wasn’t easy managing a team of teenage boys who were ridiculously hungry and driven for a common goal. When news got around the team that you and Ushijima had broken up, he always kept an extra eye out for you and worried that you’d continue to work yourself to the bone in university.

...

Just one, he berated himself. Just one.

His nose ghosted over the skin from your jaw to your collarbone, catching the faint scent of what he assumed to be a mix of your body wash and natural scent. His senses found it comforting, grounding, and reminded him just how precious you were to him. You weren’t just a random girl at the bar he thought would be temporarily nice to make out with – you were (y/n), the girl who had watched over him and encouraged him during some of his most difficult times with a sport that was once his life, the manager who cared for him and his teammates to be nothing but their best, the person who the boys would unwittingly go to war for if anyone were to bring you trouble.

So he made that known, kissing the joint between your neck and shoulder, and reveled in the breathy gasp that escaped your throat. Little by little, he applied more pressure, preparing you for what he was about to do. His lips softly sucked on the skin, just enough so his teeth could graze it and nibble. Your hands were now fully entangled in the strands of his air, and as they tightened, Eita became more forceful and meaningful. You were entering a faint haze of ecstasy as he worked that one spot, determined to break the capillaries beneath your unmarked flesh and let the inevitable bruising bloom. He knew how beautiful you would look when he was done, and if he had your permission to, what a sight you would be with more littered on the rest of your body.

-

Present

“(Y/n), I know you’re in there,” a deep male’s voice permeates through the wood, though muffled and scratchy. “Please, let me talk to you. I’m sorry, I—” He pauses, a groan of frustration escaping his throat. Your vision refuses to refocus, bleary as you weakly take in your view of Tokyo again. Without a doubt, the man must be ruffling his hair frustratingly, distressed and discouraged.

“I shouldn’t have said that. Please let me in and apologize properly – I owe you that much.”

You owe me nothing, silly. It’s my fault.  

Eyes the shade of the complement to a martini in the billboard observe you, and you wonder: if seen in person, would they have stared with pity?

It’s time to stop running away.

So with sluggish steps, you make your way to the only barrier barring you from your fate. The two deadbolts slide back and click in place, echoing louder than ever. Your hand trembles in its path to the doorknob, faintly grasping the chilling metal and turning it until the latch pulls back far enough to let the door open.

And there they were, the eyes that held the key to your undoing, that had watched you crumble and fall, that had looked after you in more ways than you could imagine, peering straight into yours. You know them well, perhaps too well, and your knees nearly buckle at their intensity. It takes every part of your being to stop yourself from slamming the door closed, to hide away and escape destiny.

Because it seems that irises in the shades of olive will be the banes of your existence.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hq #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #semi eita #semi x reader #eita x reader #wakatoshi x reader #iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime #a little nervous and excited! #haikyuu x reader #hq angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu smut #hq smut

[lunaticpuppetmaster]

  My contribute for Konoha Simps server collab! 

Trying to do both drabble and an art was a poor decidion as i am a lil bit late. 

Special Thanks to @pfreadsandwrites who beta-readed this drabble!

Title: Lost and Found.

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x OC (Tsubasa Yuki)

Summary: Everyone knows that everything you lose will end up in your soulmates possesions. Some people go crazy trying to find their destined one with practically no information. Tsubasa was never interested in finding hers and there is a chance she would never be able to.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, hurt/comfort

Word count: 6907

   When the first symptoms of the family curse appeared, Tsubasa already knew she was doomed. The sickness was rare and there wasn’t much information about it in the Yuki clan library even before the genocide, while after it…  well, no information survived. To be honest she did not have much hope at the beginning when her ice-natured chakra just only started to act like a parasite, eating her body and breaking thin bones.

But her sensei had. Mei had always been protective of her pupils, acting like a big sister even after the trio passed the chunin exam. So, when the worst happened, she used all her resources in order to save one of them. Unfortunately, even Kirigakure medics famous for their body knowledge were unsuccessful. The only hope was the best medic alive, Tsunade-hime herself.

Tsubasa did not know how she convinced Tsunade to help or what she promised to her (probably rare Kiri herbs), but the sannin agreed to work on her case. She didn’t promise a cure. To the girl’s pleasure, unlike her sensei, the 5th hokage was rational and she stated right from the start that the chances of recovery were very low and more likely she would just extend the Yuki girl’s agony. It was hurtful, but honest. Tsubasa always respected honesty… and her sensei. She had no other choice, but to promise Mei that she will fight till the end even though she did not want to.

“Maybe you will find your soulmate there,”- said Mei before her departure.

Mei was one of those people who always wanted to find their soulmate, however that was not the reason why she said it. She appreciated different manifestations of love: between friends, parental, sisterly and etc. She also knew that Tsubasa was a pessimist and even the love of people who were close to her was not enough to restore her will to live. At least if she were deeply in love with her soulmate, Mei hoped that Tsubasa could finally find the strength to fight.

Soulmates were always a bone of contention between different social groups: commoners, nobility and shinobi. Especially the last one. Missions and loyalty towards the village must be a number one priority for a ninja. But with soulmates everything became much harder.

Still even the biggest soulmate deniers tried their best to ‘lose things’. Even though little was known about soulmates nature, over the years people were able to learn a couple of useful things:

1 - Every item you lose will end up in your soulmate’s possessions.

2 - You cannot send a letter or any kind of writing this way.

3 - You cannot just throw away a random thing in the air or leave it intentionally on a park bench. So, you must really lose the thing to make it reach your soulmate.

The world was never peaceful. Neither for commoners nor shinobi, so desire to help for so called “true one” was understandable. People tried to tie various useful items with slim strings to their clothes like meds and water. When it came to shinobi they usually tied small scrolls to their bags or jackets hoping that during fights the thread would be cut or ripped and the item lost. Such scrolls were usually filled with food, kunais or ninja pills. Supplies that suddenly appeared managed to save some shinobi on the verge of death more than once. So even soulmate deniers had an opinion that it was practical to help the soulmate and very rude to ignore it. Help for help, life for life, nothing more. Tsubasa was one such person.

Of course, every skilled shinobi could tell from which village the lost item appeared.

Yuki’s soulmate for example was from Konoha. Her teammate Hiroto recognized a specific plant in a found ninja pill. So, she had some chances to run into him during her stay.

But Tsubasa did not want a soulmate. She did not need some stranger. She wanted to stay in Kiri and spend her last days with people she loved with all her heart and soul. Hadn’t she suffered enough? It didn’t look like it.

This was how she ended up in Konoha; or rather in a spare room of Yamanaka-hime’s house. Although Tsunade made efforts, in Yuki’s opinion, she clearly did not have an intention to heal her, but to collect information about how the disease proceeds under various factors, in order to save other unfortunate ones… Tsubasa could tell it from her students. Tsunade put her under the care of somewhat inexperienced newbies, ones who could crawl into her head and feel the patient’s condition themselves. Tsubasa did not blame her for that. She would be happy if her death could help someone. The girl rather felt sorry for distracting Ino from her more important patients. The hime herself was cheerful and sunny person, but in moments that required professionalism she could turn cold and focused with the flick of a finger. “She would be a perfect clan leader one day,” Tsubasa thought.

To be honest Yamanaka’s jutsu was useful for more than just therapy. When they first met, Yuki just simply let Ino read her mind and see her past. It was much faster and easier, plus all the secret information she knew as an ANBU was sealed. In order to get it, they would have had to use much stronger and more traumatic jutsu (and of course torture). Moreover, she was going to die soon, so did it really matter how many people knew her story?

Though when Tsubasa saw the girl’s blank face after reading her mind, she felt guilty. The blonde stayed silent for a few seconds before giving her a hug. She did not need words to say that she will do her best.

    Ino was easy to befriend. She also was good at distracting from negative thoughts. Between her regular Tsunade checkups and preparations for missions (It was important to monitor the development of the disease in the field, and all missions would be related to information gathering about the Yuki clan) they were chatting, watching movies and sometimes working in the flower shop. Thanks to Tsubasa’s honey-coloured hair most people mistook her as a distant relative of Yamanaka, so no one asked questions.

Once they ended up talking about soulmates. It started when Ino found some spilled ink on her carpet one day. Hime did not know much about her soulmate except he was really… an artistic type. Through the years she collected various brushes, pencils, erasers and doodles. Once she even found a whole sketchbook (unfortunately half torn)! But there was one thing that made her upset. He never “lost” anything to help her like the majority did.

“Maybe he is from a strict ninja family or a specific ANBU team”, she said with a sad smile.

If Ino’s soulmate was artistic, Tsubasa’s was… quite “special”. Because only a “special” person would end up losing a 6-kilo bag of dog food. Even now, after seven years Tsubasa sometimes wondered ‘how?’.. It was not a pen or a trinket which could be easily left on an academy desk, but a giant bag of dog food! No, he was a good soulmate who was “losing” supplies for her (that once saved her teammate’s life) unlike Ino’s, but still… Even when the blonde heard about it, she could not believe it and then started to laugh hysterically. After such silly small talks Tsubasa felt like she wasn’t fully alone in this foreign village. It almost felt like she had found a friend.

Unlike the other forced teammate.

Every village had a system of having at least 3 people in a team. Moreover, Tsubasa was suffering from her disease and Ino concentrated on helping her. They needed another member.

Tsubasa did not like him from the start. He was loud, narcissistic, clingy and insolent. The kunoichi was easily fed up with his behaviour. She spat out what exactly she thought of him to his face before going back to the Yamanaka estate. Only when she was alone in her room, she understood all her stupidity. She shouldn’t have acted so idiotic and lose her cool. It was essential for a ninja. She also understood why he was chosen among all of the shinobi. As a member of the Inuzuka clan he had a ninken who was already big enough to carry a man. It would be useful in case she became unconscious due to the illness. But she could not help it. A lot of bad things were going on in her life. She felt useless and helpless since she was banned from using her ice chakra. Mei also banned her from using anything that would hide her emotions. She thought that Tsubasa finally needed to learn how to speak and deal with new people. Babysitting was not helpful, so she wanted to try something more radical. Tsubasa understood, but understanding wasn’t enough to cope with the stress. Now she was sitting in the corner of her room shivering. Usually, she would take her father’s mask – the only thing left after his death- and put the cold material close to her forehead thinking what he would say or do. She couldn’t do it any longer. Some of her belongings and a mask were lost during a powerful chakra release at the beginning of the disease.

A few minutes passed before she started to feel better. A sudden knock on the door took her out of thoughts. Tsubasa went to open it thinking it would be Ino. Unfortunately, it was him. The cause for today’s bad mood and their third teammate – Kiba Inuzuka himself. She sighed and looked at him through the door, hiding most of her body behind it. The young man in front of her hesitated and looked a little bit strange or uncertain.

”Listen, I came here to apologise.“

Tsubasa raised her brow. Surely she should have been the one to apologise?. Plus, the boy looked like someone who would rather make a bunch of excuses and snap back than accept he was wrong.

“Well, I shouldn’t have invaded your personal space in the first place.” He scratched the back of his head and looked away. Judging by his behavior, the girl started to understand what actually made his behavior change.“And …uhm, Ino told me about your case so…”

“Showed you,” said Yuki her guess as a statement.

”She d-did not show me much!”

”That’s okay. I don’t mind and Ino knows that.”

“Anyway, I want to start on a clean slate. Here, take it. It’s a half mask and a bottle of blue paint so you can customize it with your clan symbol.”

”Actually…”

“I know that you are not allowed to use anything to hide your emotions, but it is a half mask and I made the holes for eyes bigger so your emotions will be perfectly visible. This is not technically breaking the rule and you will definitely feel better due to your um… well, habit. Just enjoy it, okay? I have to go now, bye!

“W-wait! I cannot…”

But the boy already left, forcing the girl to accept.

After that, though the relationship between the trio smoothed out, it was far from perfect. Tsubasa preferred to act more as a solo player despite her health condition, Kiba was still too loud and tried to act like the leader he never was and Ino … Ino tried not to go crazy in this whole mess called a team. However, overall, their missions were rather calm. Perhaps the three of them needed time to get used to each other before they could accept the others’ faults and learn to compromise. The tension completely disappeared at rest time, when tired teenagers passed time by talking to each other. Often they talked about soulmates. Someone was consulting with others about what would be more useful to seal in a tie-down scroll, the other one was looking through a travel bag for new supplies (or accidentally dropped useless things), another was thinking about loud who their soulmate might be. On one of such days, all of a sudden Tsubasa discovered earrings in a sealed scroll. They were simple and consisted of three deep blue feathers each. The girl looked at them in surprise, not knowing how to react. But, on the contrary, Ino reacted too happily.

“These are so cute! And they match your eye color! Quite a nice present for a soulmate that has never seen you.”

“This must have been a mistake.”

“It was in a scroll. How could this be a mistake? Looks like your soulmate really wishes to meet you and…”

“I don’t need a soulmate, Ino! Like, I don’t believe in perfect matches made by spiritual forces or some sort. I never wanted to have him in the first place! I have a dream to achieve, a family in Kiri. No way if I survive, I will leave it all behind because of some questionable romance! That’s ridiculous!”

Ino sighed and Kiba remained silent. The conversation came to an end. But not the attention from Tsubasa’s soulmate or their mission.

One of those days, when all sorts of cute things and sweets instead of standard ammunition began to show up in Tsubasa’s scrolls more and more, their group stumbled upon really strong opponents. The longer the battle continued the more obvious it became that they were not going to win. Unless Tsubasa broke the rule and used her clan’s abilities. Mei’s order, both as sensei and as Mizukage, always stood above many moral principles for Yuki, but now it was a completely different case. Neither Ino nor Kiba with the sweetest and bravest Akamaru should have been involved in this from the very beginning. They were not supposed to die or risk their lives because of some terminally ill girl from another village and a questionable contract between their Kages. They must live, survive and Tsubasa made up her mind. At first, she managed to eliminate a couple of ninjas and slightly injure the rest using the element of surprise. She was incredibly lucky, because the disoriented opponents were much easier to finish off for Kiba and Ino. Tsubasa by this moment had already lost her eyesight from the tension and saw the battlefield only as a set of white and light gray colors. She lost her breath and her strength to stand upright. But it was nothing compared to the pain that washed over her seconds later.

     The kunoichi screamed in pain as she felt blood filling her mouth and an ice crust covering her internal organs. She fell on the cold dusty ground, heart-rendering screams leaving her lips with the blood pulsing her temples, ice needles tearing the muscles of her arms and legs. It seemed like nothing existed except for the all-consuming pain. Through the wall of never-ending white noise, she heard the sounds of Ino’s commands and Akamaru’s frightened barking. This was the last thing she felt before passing out.

Tsubasa woke up with a heavy head and pain all over her body. She listened to her senses before opening her eyes… and it would have been better not to listen to them. Someone brazenly pressed her close to their body and sniffed into the ear. When she opened her eyes the girl immediately screamed. In general, it was a completely normal reaction when you find yourself half-dressed in the arms of an equally half-dressed man. Of course, given that she was half-asleep, her only response was a stream of unpleasant curses and swearing. At first Kiba, who was still sleepy, was happy that the girl woke up, but soon joined the exchange of curses until a joyful, but terribly tired Ino ran up to them, immediately trying to interrupt the catfight and change the topic. Kiba waved his hand resentfully and went off in an unknown direction. Ino stayed with Tsubasa alone.

“Sit down and drink this.”

“Okay, but can I ask you a question first? What the hell happened here?”

”Your disease went out of control. I could barely suppress it. This time it was… too strong. Not like before. When I was finally able to improve your condition, you were still unconscious, your temperature dropped to terribly low levels, and some ice crystals did not disappear. We didn’t risk taking you back to the village in such poor condition. At first, we tried to wrap you up warm, but that didn’t help. Your clothes were quickly soaked by the cold coming from you and it only aggravated your condition. Then we decided that we would warm you one by one with the heat of our bodies. Well, Akamaru too.

Tsubasa howled in embarrassment and Ino sighed.

“Don’t worry. I think Kiba understands what the situation looked like for you. Or he will understand. He is a hot-head, you know, and he needs some time to calm down. But he will.”

”Still, that doesn’t change the fact that I snapped at him twice for literally nothing, especially the last time when I should have said ‘thank you for trying to save my dumb ass’. I feel terrible.”

The blonde girl patted her dejected friend on the shoulder and then said, “ Drink the medicine or, I swear to God, you will regret that you woke up.

The group’s return journey took place in silence. Despite the fact that Tsubasa apologized to Kiba and he accepted the apology, the kunoichi was still tormented by her conscience. She needed to apologize to him properly. Stealing a glance at the still visible ice crystals on her hand, a thought flashed through her: “While I can still do it.”

Night is definitely a wonderful and mysterious time of the day. Too bad that not everyone can enjoy its beauty, but there are also some who would be glad to miss it. For example, some unfortunate souls from the Inuzuka clan. It just so happened that a heightened sense of smell was not the only animal trait some clan members shared. Heightened hearing, too. In battle it was somewhat useful while in everyday life - irritating. During the day, in a mixture of noises, it did not cause much discomfort, but at night, when all the sounds disappeared, a can kicked by a drunk felt like a hit in the head. It is not surprising that such “lucky” clan members often suffered from insomnia and generally lived in the rhythm of night owls, which was very difficult for the shinobi world, where everyone was entirely early birds.

So was Kiba. However, tonight it felt different. His day was active and the sounds on the street did not disturb him, still he could not sleep. It seemed that the whole atmosphere of the house became more and more oppressive with every second spent inside, and the inner desire to walk through the village at night became stronger with every minute. He just wanted to go outside and run. He did not know where, but somewhere, where it was important for him to be now. In the end, when he accepted the fact that he obviously would not sleep today, the young man called his faithful dog and quietly left the house. The night was calm and fresh from the recent rain. Perhaps even too much, but it did not bother Kiba. He gladly wandered through old village streets, breathing in deeply the cold night air until he found himself near the playground. Or better to say, found someone.

Tsubasa sat on the swing all hunched up, almost motionless like a statue, and although this time her face wasn’t hidden by a mask, but her honey hair, Kiba knew that the girl was clearly not radiating joy.

“May I sit?,” he asked. Tsubasa didn’t even flinch.

“Yes.”

Kiba looked at the girl. When they first met, she was strong, cold and impenetrable. A true warrior. But now things were different. As a shinobi, he was not afraid to die on the battlefield, surrounded by dead and, possibly, even rotting bodies. But seeing a person fade like this, when they were unable to do anything about their state, when they burned out like a candle, turning with every second into a pale copy of their former self is what really scared him. At first, he didn’t care much what would happen to Yuki, but now, when her life glimmered on a candle stub, saving her was important. Either she will survive, and he will get rid of animal all-consuming fear, or her pale face, disfigured by illness, in the tongues of the funeral flame will haunt him till the end of his days.

Akamaru rested his head on Tsubasa’s lap. Still lost in her heavy thoughts, Yuki let her hands go of the swing chain and started to mechanically stroke and scratch the ninken behind the ears.

”Hey Tsu, I know that you are that type of shinobi who tries to follow the code perfectly. But we are not made of steel. You are not made of steel. You are feeling bad and tired. It’s unlikely that I will hear something that Ino did not show me or did not hear from you. Sharing pain as a shinobi is hard, but it’s even harder to keep your cool when you are on the verge of being broken by your own emotions. Even though I talk too much, anything you tell me tonight will stay here, I promise. So, tell me what’s eating you.

”You’re right. I am tired. I am weak, although I’ve tried to prove myself otherwise for my whole goddamn life. Even when I felt bad and thought that everything was lost, I clung to a few good things that I had. What does not kill makes us stronger, and the world, even drowning in war and blood, is still too beautiful to give up, especially the little things that everyone forgets. That’s what my father taught me. My path has never been covered with rose petals. Well.., for most people, actually. Still, I didn’t stop fighting for the people I love. Only when the clan curse showed itself… I was really scared. I felt completely helpless. And after the recent events… Fuck all my experience, knowledge and even more ranks. I am useless. I… I must accept the truth. I will die soon Kiba and I do not want to die here.”

Her previously smooth and still voice started to crack. Her shoulders shivered slightly.

“You, Ino and your friends are wonderful people and in general I like Konoha, but it will never be my home, and you will never replace my family. I hate to break promises, but I really don’t want to keep the one I gave to sensei and friends. I just want to give up and go back to Kiri. I miss them so much and want to see them one last time. Besides there is also one thing that bothers me…”

Mei was not that wrong when she said that Tsubasa might fall in love in Konoha. She actually did, but not with the soulmate destined by the stars. She fell in love with an eccentric, slightly arrogant and silly boy who may have not really known her, but still tried to help. Simply because he did not lose faith in her or their team, because he acted friendly with her and could cheer her up even in her darkest moments. For the fact that he could knock on the window at one in the morning and invite her into the forest to look at the fireflies. Just like that. It wasn’t like love at first sight, or a long courtship. With each passing day her feelings grew stronger washing over her like waves. Unfortunately, there were few “BUTs” that Tsubasa could not ignore:

She was from another village and even though there were many bad things in the hidden Mist, she was not going to betray it or move anywhere. She promised herself to help Sensei make the village a better place, and she was not going to give up on her dream either. Kiba was also too loyal to his family and friends. He would never leave them for some Kirigakure girl.

Moreover, Tsubasa felt guilty about her soulmate. Yes, she never saw him, but that did not stop him from taking care of her and obviously dreaming about their meeting. It would be wrong just not to care about his feelings.

Most importantly, that applied to both Kiba and the unknown “true one” - she was dying. She was a weak sick girl who had a month left to live at best. Of course, she could confess her feelings to the boy next to her right now, feel loved and die with a drop of happiness… But was it fair for Kiba who would have to live with this burden until the end of his days? Definitely not. She couldn’t do that to him. That’s why she would rather stay silent, burn out from her feelings, because at least she would not let him suffer.

“I just don’t know what to do… I feel lost.”

She lifted her head, blue feathers of her earnings blowing in the wind. Her face was emotionless and her body calm, yet uncontrollable tears were streaming down her face.

The boy took her freezing hand and pulled her into a hug. Tsubasa bit her lip, burying her face in his shoulder and soaking his jacket with tears.

”You lost only because you gave up right away as soon as you found out about your diagnosis! Stop thinking about the fucking disease! Focus on something else! Not on the loved ones, since it causes you so much pain. Focus on your dreams! On your soulmate!”

“Why are you so obsessed with the idea of soulmates?”

“Why are you so disgusted with the idea itself?”

She let his hand go and exhaled. There was no trace of her emotional outburst except for her bloodshot eyes. Tsubasa grabbed the swing chains, thinking for a second.

“I do not believe in fairy tales about gods, who loved each other and were separated, that blessed all mortal couples with a secret connection, in revenge to the rest of the pantheon. Why did everyone suddenly start to think that it was a love connection? What if that bond means a strong friendship? And how can finding lost things help my soulmate find me or specifically, my body? The only variant I see is where you tattoo the coordinates on your hand and lose it in battle. An ‘excellent’ plan! Moreover, where are the guarantees that soulmate couples will be happy? Give me one example.”

”Ino’s parents are soulmates.”

Both of them suddenly turned silent.

”As far as I know, Mrs. Yamanaka did not even know our language when she arrived here. She was from another country, with completely different customs, still she risked going into the unknown. And I don’t know any stronger couple.”

“The way you talk about it… Your parents aren’t soulmates either, are they?”

He nodded.

”Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother. In fact, my father left when I was one year old, so she and my sister raised me. But… My mother is a very difficult person. As far as I can remember, it was always important for her to be the first and she never cared about the feelings of others. This is good for a warrior, but not for a family member. She could easily say things that will hurt you, including the ones she said on purpose, as a joke in order to please her ego. When you tried to talk to her about this and ask her to tone it down a little, she pretended to listen at first, but soon forgot about it. As for my father, he was not from our clan, not even from our village. He was a stranger and ended up being at the very bottom of the clan’s hierarchy. My sister said that he could stand a lot of things, but not the betrayal and disregard towards him from his once loved one. Of course, this was not the only reason he left. After that, looking at how Ino’s parents perfectly understand each other and always try to find a compromise, on how strong their union is… I want the same kind of family. Yes, I can act like my mother, be short tempered and impulsive. I think you noticed it when we first met. I admit I behaved horribly, but with people close to me, whom I don’t want to lose, I try to control myself and work on it.”

“That’s… amazing Kiba. And despite the fact that you mostly act like a jerk -” he snorted and a small smile formed on her lips- “I have to admit that after knowing you better, I have respect for you. You don’t try to please everyone. You give all of yourself and your warmth only to the ones that are close to you. Only to those who, in your opinion, deserve it, disregarding the rest. This is right. I share the same point of view. But since you really want to find your soulmate, have you ever thought that you might end up being the one to leave your home? Are you ready for such a sacrifice yourself?”

Kiba fell silent. At first it seemed that he was deep in thought, but in reality, everything was different. He was frightened and listened to the silence of the night trying to find out if someone was eavesdropping on them. For a moment, the girl even thought that he used ninjutsu to sniff out strangers and make sure that there were no one near them.

As white as a sheet, he took her hand and ‘wrote’ his answer on the inside of her palm with a finger:

“Yes”

She glanced at him. His actions spoke louder than words.

“Your father is dead, isn’t he?”

”Were you born in a clan or joined it later, you cannot leave it.”

”I understand. After all, in Kiri, a lot is happening inside our clans too.”

They both sat in uncomfortable silence.

“When you said that my parents are not soulmates, you also said “either”. So..?”

“You heard right. You know that before Terumi-sama, Kirigakure was overflowing with nepotism and bribery? Well, people were willing to do anything to move up the career ladder. My mother really wanted a higher position in ANBU, so she made my father fall in love with her and convinced him that she was his soulmate. As you understand, it was also important for my father to find ‘the true one’ but when he realized that he was fooled it was already too late. He comforted himself with the fact that he seemed to love my mother even without that spiritual bond, plus he loved me with all his heart and soul. But in fact, the love between my parents was one-sided… and because of the special treatment to the Yuki clan, my father was never at home. So… when you start looking for your destined one, please be careful, okay? I do not want the same fate for you or for anyone else.”

Okay, let’s change the topic” - he waved his hands in a playful defensive gesture “You mentioned that you have a dream. So, what kind of dream?”

“Well, you chose a bad one to distract me, because my dream is deeply connected with my family. You know about the genocide of the Yuki clan?”

“Mmm, sorry, to be honest, not really. Only that when the Uchiha clan was massacred, the elders whispered with each other that it could be the same case as it was with your clan, where it was the Kage’s order or some sort.”

“The Yuki clan was once considered to be one of the most powerful clans in the village of the Hidden Mist. And of course, quite dangerous, especially for the past Mizukage, or rather, for the one who controlled him. So, one night, the entire main branch was killed and the clan’s library burned down. The Yuki clan was officially made part of a lower caste. Some clan members managed to escape, while others were often sent on dangerous and suicidal missions. Now from the once large clan, only 30-40 people remain in Kiri, and most of them are elders and children. For comparison, grandfather Naoki had four children, the same age as my father, and only one daughter remained alive. As you know, my frightened and repressed clan avoided communicating with each other. In fact, in my childhood, it was as if the clan did not exist at all. Childhood in Kiri was not easy, but the other children at least had a clan, a large family that stood up for them. I wanted it too. I wanted to be a part of a clan and before my illness I dreamed of reviving the Yuki clan, regaining lost knowledge and finding all the relatives lost around the world, whom, as far as I heard, were not liked by both ninjas and civilians. But now after that illness… I must find every single Yuki alive to make sure that no one will be alone while fighting the family curse and that no one will go through the same pain as me, giving them a chance to be cured. And I will do it, no matter what… If I survive, of course…”

“It’s … A great dream to achieve-,” he scratched his head not knowing what to say- “And I am sure you will! Just don’t be so pessimistic! “

”I am realistic.”

“Pessimistic.”

“Realistic!”

“OK, OK!” he chuckled.“Looks like only realists like you, who talk about how bad and terrible everything will be, turn out to be chuunins.”

“What? Kiba, I don’t… urgh forget it! Arguing with you on any topic is simply useless when you are stubborn as a mule.”

“Said another mule!”

She laughed. Warmly and sincerely, for the first time this evening, and perhaps since they returned from that ill-fated mission.

”By the way, if your life in the hidden mist was so bad why do you hate the idea of moving to another place? Like here, to Konoha?”

“First of all, my life in Kiri is perfect now. Secondly, when people will learn that I am from the hidden mist they will hate me. The only thing that saves me now is that commoners think I am a distant relative of Ino.”

“Why do you think that?”

“You never heard why Kiri women are hated so much?”

“No.”

“Well let me tell you,” she grinned sinisterly. “One year, in our village, due to hunger, disease and war, there were practically no men left. Then the women decided to fill this gap by stealing men from other villages. But then they questioned themselves, how to transport healthy and adult shinobi without harming them? This is how the world-famous art of Kirigakure ANBU was born, thanks to which we can immobilize even the most powerful warrior,” she chuckled as a senbon she used in some missions appeared from nowhere, - “With the combination of many factors, but still. Well, those poor souls who ended up in Kiri … they essentially had no choice, but to marry ladies there if they wanted to live.”

“Are you joking?!”

“I’m not! In fact, my great-grandfather was kidnapped from the village hidden in the Stone. So, be careful Inuzuka Kiba! Who knows, maybe my illness is just a part of a secret mission and I’m actually here to pick up suitable candidates… And you might end up being one of them! You may turn out to be a good third husband for me, you know?”

He laughed.

“Oh really? Well, I would die to see how you would try to steal me with such an amazing guard as Akamaru!”

“Oh darling,” she grinned and hugged the huge white dog,” I would find a way to make that adorable boy my partner in crime! “

Akamaru happily barked in agreement and both teenagers burst into laughter, almost falling off the swing.

“By the way,” she said after a small pause, “I have to admit that fireflies are much more beautiful in Konoha. Thank you for letting me enjoy such beauty…”

He bit his lip and took her hand in his. The Ice crystals were still showing from her bandage returned them both to the dreadful reality.

“You will survive Tsu, I promise you, and you will see many more fireflies. Not only these.”

She looked at him with a faded, crooked smile. A smile that only gravely ill and very tired people have. Kiba returned her a look and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest, skipping a beat.

“Don’t make a promise that you can’t keep.”

”I’ll keep it! You will see. We are close to finding the ancient temple of the Yuki clan, and there definitely should be information on how to cure you. And after the next mission is completed, we will go to a grill bar! In the land of water there are only sea creatures and practically no normal beef. I cannot let you go back to Kiri without letting you know all the delights of good meat.”

She chuckled.

“If you say so.”

But there would be no grill bar or any next time. They found information about the temple location, but at the cost of everything else. The disease turned out to be unstoppable at this point. Luckily, they managed to reach it in time and save Tsubasa’s life.

Three months had passed since her miraculous recovery. Representatives of the Mist village appeared in Konoha the next day and took the girl with them, not allowing her even to say goodbye to her new friends. Still, their paths will cross in the future.

Upon returning to Kiri, Tsubasa began to communicate a lot with Ino through letters, which made the Mizukage almost ecstatic. She hoped that friendship with the clan princess would turn into a possible strong political tie in the future. One way or another, Mei was going to make her children, if not a future Mizukage, then those on whom the village could rely. Sometimes Mei was so happy about the benefits that Tsubasa had a feeling that her illness and departure to Konoha were part of Sensei’s plan to improve relationships with the village from the very beginning. However, she thought it was too weird and silly to be true.

She also sent letters to Kiba. Feelings for him that suddenly flared up in her heart were not planning to disappear, but she still had no intention of getting into his personal life. He wanted to find his soulmate, and she respected that wish. This was the least she could do for him. “Besides,” she thought while drinking peach tea in the evenings and remembering how he was trying to warm her drastically freezing body on their trip to the temple, “it is unlikely that we would have succeeded even if there would be no soulmate. We are too loyal and attached to our villages and clans. None of us would move to another village for the sake of other. Only a soulmate had such privilege.“

Therefore, she was happy to be his friend at least, send the boxes of tangerines and dried seafood snacks on special occasions, help with advice on everyday problems that all teenagers went through, regardless of which shinobi village they were born in, and just talk about all sorts of nonsense.

At six am, there was a loud knock on the door. Tsubasa was just getting ready for the training and she had no idea who would need to see her at such an early hour (her teammates were waiting for her at the training field, so it could not be them).

A familiar figure was standing outside of the door. Tired from the road, a little nervous, but smiling. Holding a medium-sized flat box under his arm.

“Kiba? What are you doing here, especially this early?!”

“There were reasons,” he said giving her a box, “may i come in?”

“Of course, you can, I’ll make you some tea and something to eat for you two.”

The girl moved away to the side, letting the boy and his dog into the apartment. Akamaru immediately stretched and laid himself on the carpet of the living room, while Kiba took a seat in the kitchen.

“So, what’s the reason you came here?”

“Open the box,” he said with a smile.

Tsubasa raised her eyebrows skeptically. She put the box on the table, thin fingers gripping the blue lid and pulling it up. Her father’s mask with its cold material was staring right into the girl from the inside. Frozen in complete shock, looking at the once-lost thing dear to her heart, she did not notice how Kiba approached her from behind.

“I just felt lost,” he said in a soft voice, while tucking a loose strand behind her ear. Their faces were only a few inches apart, “And desperately wanted to be found.”

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