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#6 from high and low the worst
buriedinmyownfeelings · 9 months
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I’m still stuck on my High and Low fixation and escape has never seemed further away
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Today we conquered 6 from High and Low the Worst with two of my favorite boys
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ataryutaro · 2 years
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6 FROM HIGH & LOW THE WORST (2020)
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moonsvillain · 1 year
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it's horrible of me i know but when i was watching arata go through his ratatouille arc in 6 from high & low the worst i was really hoping that he wouldn't be able to cook for shit so he could fully emulate the linguini life style of being a nepo baby who fell into restaurantship by accident
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arlertwhore · 1 month
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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader
warning(s): nsfw/18+, fighting (verbal/physical), toxic relationship stuff, fingering, thigh riding, pussy eating, squirting,
synopsis: the bitchy, possessive, and temperamental gf who paige thinks she can handle proves her right!
word count: 2.4k
Author Note: got my first lil hate comment the other day 😜 i feel like an actual writer now lmao! here goes draft #6, comin’ in lit 🔥
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Fuck knows what you're complaining about this time. She's straight from practice — from a rigorous, exhausting, and intense practice, frustrated with her own performance, only to find you waiting at the door, already irritated about something entirely. Perhaps it was how she didn’t answer you at all today—or how you saw her looking too close for comfort to another 'fan' as she claimed, though you never trusted it—or maybe she even fucking sighed at you the wrong way upon entering through the door because the littlest of things ticked you off—you—her bitchy, demanding, and infuriatingly sexy girlfriend, whom Paige has to constantly remind herself she willingly got involved with, knowing full well she was signing up for the being the figurative property of the brattiest, bossiest, most high-maintenance girl on campus.
"Are you even listening to me?!" you fume as Paige storms past you, stripping a trail of her clothes all the way to the bathroom, letting her hair fall loose from its low bun as she saunters away from your chaos, massaging her temples.
"Seriously, Y/N, now's not the time, I gotta-" - "I don't give a fuck!" you explode, chasing after her and grabbing her arm to spin her back around. "I don't care about your shitty day or your shitty excuses. Why the fuck didn't you text me back, hm?" Paige sighs, avoiding your eyes with an air of exasperation, her gaze shifting to the ceiling in an attempt to not roll them. At her silence, you feel your anger boil over, frustration evident in the clenched fist at your sides and the tense set of your jaw. "You're the fucking worst, Paige!" you snap, "You think just because I'm understanding that means you can take pictures with all these other bitches, post all on your Instagram, but then NOT text me back!"
Paige knew she was the man, the kind of person who could handle any challenge, which is why she thought dating someone like you—a real piece of work—would be a good match. She believed you could keep her on her toes, pushing her to become mentally stronger, more confident, and dominant—qualities she hoped would shine on the court, but on days like this, when you demanded drama and chaos, she wondered if she was truly cut out for it. Her honest, no-bullshitting, no-pretense attitude of: My girlfriend is so sexy opinion? Nah. And she promptly proved that stance when she spat out, “Alright, I’m sorry, baby… Is that what you want me to say? That I’m sorry I have things to do and you act like a bitch about it?” her voice venomous and defensive, stunning you. “Man, get the fuck out of my way right now. I don’t feel like fighting with you, for real,” she demanded, trying to brush past you. You couldn’t believe she actually spoke to you like that—she was usually so considerate of your feelings. In a fit of rage, you squared up to her and pushed her back by her shoulders with a strength you didn’t know you had over the 6ft wall of strength she was. Growling, you commanded, “You’re gonna stand here until WE’RE done talking!”
Paige stands with her hands on her hips, clenching at her sides with such restraint that her basketball shorts ride up, revealing her boxers underneath. She warns, "Stop playin' with me, yo. Step aside." and as she advances again, trying to get to the bathroom door behind you, you block her path, arms crossed and eyes flashing. Sneering, you challenge defiantly, "No. What are you gonna do if I don’t step aside, P? Hm? You gonna hit me?"
She takes a deep breath, drops her head, and shakes it exasperatedly before a light chuckle escapes her, broad shoulders bouncing. “Whatever, ma,” she mutters, turning around and picking up the clothes she’d left scattered on the floor. “I’m gonna go shower at Mikayla’s — forget this.”
You don’t have enough time to be angry about her saying she’s visiting Mikayla’s house—the slut you’d warned her to stay away from. Instead, you sprint to the front door, grab her keys off the rack, and hide them behind your back. Coldly, you say, “You’re mine, Paige. Turn around and get your ass in bed, NOW! You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Paige knows you and your past well enough to recognize that you aren’t joking about this possessiveness. However, she’s far from intimidated at the moment. Instead of backing down or appeasing you like she usually does for her princess, she glares at you with a fiery defiance. Her voice is firm as she refutes, “Give me my keys, Y/N.”
You gaze at her, a smirk forming on your face as you watch her façade of nonchalance crumble. Her face turns a subtle red, veins bulging in her hands as she holds them open, waiting for the keys, her lips curled inward and cheeks hollowed. She stands there expectantly, like a statue, until you bristle as she seizes your wrist, slamming it against the door while reaching for the keys with her other hand. Instinctively, you counter with your free hand, pushing her away. She’s lost her calm and collected demeanor. It’s scarier how she doesn’t run but still chases you with the relentlessness of a predator. Her eyes blaze with determination as she follows your running with a steady, purposeful stride. You taunt, “Come and get it, doggy! Yeah, you little bitch!” luring her toward the bathroom, the only room in the house with a lock, and Paige knows exactly what you’re up doing. Just before you can slam the door in her face, Paige lunges for it and forces it open, stepping inside and backing you against the door. This time, she tries a different approach to get the keys—she clasps your waist, holding you in place with her knees pressed against your smaller legs, effectively immobilizing you. As she tussles with you for the keys, you keep a tight grip on them. The struggle is fierce, and you're both panting in each other’s faces, exchanging only ragged breaths. You finally manage to break free from the bathroom and run for the bedroom with Paige hot on your heels. As you glance over your shoulder to see where she’s at, you realize too late that she’s no longer focused on reclaiming her keys. With a swift tackle, she takes you down onto the bed, pinning you there and forcing you into submission. The keys fall out of your hand, but Paige remains on top of you, her anger unrepairable as she growls, “Wanna bitch at me like that when I’m tired?” Her big hands begin to untie your nightrobe. “Wanna piss me off when I’m trying to be nice about things?”
She moves with an almost animalistic quality, yanking you down the bed by your legs and sending your clothes flying off with the force of her pull, baring your body to her hungry blue eyes. She hisses against your neck, “Little bitch?” and you nod rebelliously, “Yeah..fuck,” you heave, “look at you, so pissed, hm?” Her words are unbearably sexy when she vows, “I’ll show you a little bitch.” Mere moments later, she’s seated on the edge of the bed, with you draped over her lap like a ragdoll. You’re writhing, still trying to resist, biting and clawing at her thighs, but Paige’s grip is unyielding. Under her strength, you’re completely powerless.
Her hands spread your ass open, giving her a clear view of your dripping pussy. She chuckles cockily, the smirk evident in her voice even though you're not looking at her when she drawls, “This is why you’re really bitchin’ out, huh, ma?”
You whine at her words, stuttering and squirming, “Let me go, Paige, f-fuck!”
She tuts dismissively. “Aw, but that’s not what you really want, baby... you just need this pussy fucked, don’t you? To get fucked back to your senses—make you my good girl again, my princess...” she purrs, her fingers sliding through your slick and teasing your asshole. Then you hear the dirtiest, most sinful suck of fingers in her mouth you’ve ever heard.
Hips arched high with her strong arm restraining you from running, pressed firmly into your lower back, punching pressure deep within and outside of you, all aligning on the inside, she works her fingers into your soaking wet cunt with precision. She curls and bruises against your walls, relentlessly hitting that spot that makes you squirm like a torture puppet and cry out, "Ah!" for your dear life.
Her smarmy, taunting response? “I know, baby, I know, fuck… too tight for it, I know,” she bellows, feeding off your whimpers and whines with a sadistic delight. That smirk on her face—the one you wish you hadn't turned back to see—tells you she's savoring this victory a little too much and has no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if you've clearly accepted that you're the little bitch. “Please,” you plead, sinking your nails into her thigh, but it doesn’t seem to perturb her in the slightest—if anything, it only eggs her on, makes her devilishly speed up. “It won’t happen again—I-I won’t act like a bitch anymore, daddy, I’m sorry,” you submit, hoping for some mercy, but she’s unforgiving. She chuckles darkly, yanking you up by your hair so you’re forced to look her in the eye, even if hers aren’t fully focused on yours, watching how your tits bounce as she fucks you senseless. “One more time,” she stares at them, biting her bottom lip with a smirk before she refocuses and demands it sternly. Without hesitation, you repeat it louder before she even finishes her command: “I won’t act like a bitch anymore, daddy, I’m sorry!” She smirks, her grip tightening. "I know you won't. Not after I'm done with you." She releases your head, and you fall forward hard, your back arching under what feels like tons of weight as she drives into you overwhelmingly, making you cry out in shock. "Shit!" you gasp, involuntarily pushing back against her long fingers to soften the blow and the jam, so forcefully that your ass claps with each thrust as she fucks into you.
“Say my name, baby, who’s fucking you,” Paige demands. You groan, clenching around her thick, long fingers and spilling spurts of slick arousal as you pant, “You, Daddy!” Paige tilts her head, unsatisfied. “Nah.” Her hand, once forcing down your back, quickly wraps around your throat, clasping firmly as she whispers, “Tell me, Ma.” With the blonde holding you tightly, despite your attempts to escape, with no leverage, she easily grips you by the throat like a puppet, forcing you back onto her fingers with insane speed and force. She thrusts into you even faster, your clit now grinding against her thigh. You hike a leg up in a desperate attempt to run or crawl away, but she's got you firmly in place.
“Paige! Paige, Paige, Paige, you’re fucking me!” you cry out.
“And you like it, baby? Like how my fingers feel fucking that tight pussy?” she taunts, flexing her leg muscles and increasing the friction.
“Aww shit,” you moan strainedly, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach emerge. Your body still tries to crawl away, but your brain forces you to stay put, losing all the air inside you.
“Stop fucking running, ma, take it,” she commands. “Take it, baby, just cum for me, kay? Cum for me, give me your cum.”
You listen to the sound of your cunt, feel it pulsing and clenching around her fingers before you give up and stop fighting and allow all the pleasure crash over you, your body convulsing as your orgasm hits. You gasp and cry out, surrendering to the intense sensation as your cunt tightens rhythmically around her fingers, your clit throbbing against her thigh. She fucks you through your orgasm, continuing even after that, giving you no recovery time, no chance to catch your breath before she has you on your back, legs still spread and a wet mess beneath you. Leaning in, she murmurs, “Be good for me, be still, kay? Let me clean you up—jus' lemme taste you, baby.”
Your hand comes up to cover your face, crying out as you feel her tongue glide through your folds. Gripping onto her hair tightly, you sob—a genuine cry from the overstimulation. Through your tears, you manage to gasp, “Fuck, baby, it hurts so good, ugh!”
You shout and clamp your legs shut, burying her with a guttural scream once her fingers scissor your folds and hold them open, her tongue flicking exactly against your clit, making direct contact.
She pries your legs open inhumanly, like an uncaring monster, her voice resounding and vibrating in your cunt, "Hold your ankles in the air." a command.
You obey, and she’s even nice enough to help, her strong arms holding your legs apart as she laps and slurps up all your cum like she’s parched, her swallows audible and incredibly sexy.
You look down at her and watch her head shake around wildly, losing herself in the abyss, entranced. You try to push her away by bucking into her face, hands occupied, but you end up unintentionally pushing her closer instead. You whine out desperately, your toes, nipples, and cunt especially on fire. "Pl-PLEASE!" you gasp, "I c-can't, I’m gonna—" Her fingers replace her tongue on your clit, while her tongue dips inside you as she murmurs, "Mhm," You cover your face, and the last thing you hear before you pass out is the frantic noise of her tongue fighting to slip even deeper inside you. There’s the sound of a leak, then the subsequent opening of your eyes after what feels like days. You look down at your girlfriend to find her face glistening in a pool of arousal, juices smeared everywhere. Her first instinct? To lick around her mouth, trying to savor the taste as she smiles at you smugly, knowing she’s clearly gotten her point across to your fucked-out self.
Needless to say, Paige has proven herself to you as she knew she would always: she is NOT someone to be underestimated.
MASTERLIST
AUTHOR NOTE #2: uhh so i reread this and i just wanna know if anybody else reading this who writes, is it crazy i reread my own work and blush at it like a viewer 😅 am i a freak guys 😅😅😅 do you do that too?? ANYWAY GUYS PLS INTERACT WITH ME ILY ALL MWAH!
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cursedcola · 2 years
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Prompt: How protective are they of their S/O?
Characters: Dorm Leaders (for now).
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland.
A/N: I did one of these for my fire emblem blog…and probably will do for a few other fandoms on this one. I really had to get that Malleus brainrot out of my head omg this was just what i needed.
Riddle Rosehearts
6/10
Very rarely does someone describe Riddle as ‘calm’. The words are not synonymous and do not belong in the same sentence. Then again, not many ever imagined that he would take on a partner either.
More so - that someone would be willing to be his partner. With all the mandatory gatherings, expectations, unprompted lecturing, overbearing perfectionism - yes. Riddle is a ball of anxiety that touches everyone and every thing. Being his s/o is welcoming that for a daily basis (perhaps life)
He is shockingly anything but these things when he is truly in love. Riddle trusts his partner to handle themselves, and believes a hardened shell is good for navigating the world. He will not baby his partner, because he does not want to be smothered in turn.
You will walk along side him. Head held high with the figment of a crown balanced atop it. A Ruler, not a subject - and he will smile on you with pride.
However, this does not make him heartless. He is not protective of you in a physical or social sense…but boy does he get jealous. In the worst ways as well. Riddle is too prideful to get defensive in public so for most acute cases it manifests underneath his skin. He lets the irritation of other students’ flirting fester until he becomes passive aggressive. Heartslabyul students experience war flashbacks to before his ‘change of heart,’ as he goes sour for days, weeks…possibly even a month if his spouse does not reassure him. He cannot handle being ignored or anyone openly making advances on you with him near. It’s disrespectful both towards you and him (do they NOT see him? He is perfectly visible and WILL collar someone).
On one final note. He also has a low tolerance for verbal slander or vulgar talking. Sexual. If you haven’t picked up on it already. If he so much as hears a slither of a suggestive comment…he will kill someone. It’s one thing to hear someone call your partner beautiful. Riddle knows you are. People would be blind not to notice…but that kind of talk? The thought that someone would envision his partner in such a way and dare to speak of it? The disrespect on your name? They’re dead. Expelled. Gone. Kicked out of the dorm if they’re one of his even though no Heartslabyul member would dare speak of you that way.
"Excuse me? Just what is it that you think you are doing? Such lechery is cause for lifetime punishment! Have you no shame?! I would report this to the headmaster but I am often told to be more selfish. Perhaps now is a good time to start. What should be your punishment, hm?"
Leona KingScholar
8/10
Leona is not going to admit it. He really won’t. He’ll push and tell you to leave him be nearly every day…but the moment you start to walk he’s right on your heels.
At some point your bedroom at Ramshackle became his from the frequency of him sleeping over. He took over your dresser, booted Grimm to the armchair, and even brought over his bedsheets/pillows.
Pah. “They’re better quality than these rags,” my ass. He just wants his scent on you and what better way to make it happen then to sleep in his sheets.
Is it alright for the head of another dorm to never be around? Unlikely. However, no one has complained about their bossy senior being missing so all is well.
Like Riddle, Leona recognizes your strength. You handle more stress on the daily than he is willing to put up with. However, no one f*cks with you when he is present. Not unless they want to be pummeled. It takes a mighty ego for someone to think that they can get away with insulting Leona’s s/o right in front of him. Let alone threaten you.
Even jokingly. The only people allowed to do that are those he trusts. He knows that a slap on the wrist from Ruggie or your heartslabyul pups won’t do damage - but someone else? Leona has a newfound hatred for people like Floyd since they drag you into trouble. One misplaced step in your direction and Leona’s snaking his tail around your waist and partially shielding you.
Low-key he has anxiety about you going missing. If you do not show up for lunch in the garden (which is routine) then he gets irritable, and if you are going out late at night then he either tries to convince you to stay home or tags along begrudgingly. Even on your walks with Malleus. No, especially on your walks with Malleus.
Which leads us to the final protective criteria. Jealousy. Have you seen the movie Lilo and Stitch? Do you know the scene where Lilo is showing stitch the drawing of his “good vs.bad” and his badness levels were super high? Leona. Leona with his jealousy.
He will act cocky all he wants with the whole “everyone knows you’re with me shtick,” but he is one possessive mf. If he so much as sees one wandering eye? Doom. Not “i will pummel you,” doom but “i am going to ruin your reputation” doom because Leona calls it out instantly. No perverts on his watch and ESPECIALLY no flirts. The only person who gets to make Leona’s s/o blush is him. No cap.
"Oi! Where do you think you're looking? Yeah, you. The dazer. I'll give you something to gawk at - huh? Fine, but if they so much as step near then I am not backing down,"
Azul Ashengrotto
6/10
Two words. Floyd. Jade. Enough said.
The relationship between Azul and the twins is hella overused, but for good reason. These two are literally his right and left hand.
Azul is a worry wart. This number would break the scale if the tweel brothers did not exist. You can’t blame him for his anxieties either. You are the ONE thing that Azul cannot control. If he could, Azul would draft the perfect contract where you would live in a safe bubble with just him. Except that’s wrong, and you would not be happy.
He doesn’t want to control you. He wants you to be happy but he simply cannot help the anxiety. Out of all the dorm leaders, he has the most enemies. He also has experience with abandonment, bullying, and overall has low self confidence. All this feeds into his protectiveness because you are the one constant in his life that he wants to keep safe.
Introducing the twins. The buffer. His in-between on being an overbearing partner and normalcy. He doesn’t even have to ask them for help, because Jade and Floyd love you too. They keep an eye out when Azul can’t, and it brings comfort. Sadly you’re wrapped up in more scuffles than Azul finds comfortable…and he can’t stop you. He tried. You’re just too nosy…but wherever you go you are supported. He freaks the heck out if you ever come to him bruised, or if the grapevine carries bad news, but he knows that if the twins aren’t spooked then you’re all good.
He worries about you leaving him willingly. Either you wake up and decide that he isn’t your match, that you won’t want to join him after graduation, or you might even decide to leave Twisted Wonderland all together. Azul is happy that Crowley is a lazy liar because it means that you have no way to leave. It’s selfish…but he can’t help it. You have to understand that for Azul? There is no one else. Only you. He is not the type to love twice, this is a one and done deal.
Which is precisely why he is easily jealous as well. Not to the extent of causing an altercation, but he can and will assert dominance. He may feel unworthy but when did that ever stop Azul? ‘Fake it until you make it’ as they say, and Azul will make whatever soul who dared to step in his territory feel like smeared shit underneath his shoe.
"Ah! Angelfish~ I missed you dearly. I hope your wrist is feeling better from that spill in poison making - how do I know about that? Oh the walls have ears, y'know. Can I get you something to drink?"
Kamil Al’ Asim
2/10
Head empty. Brain go brrrrrrrr
Just kidding. Kalim's head is full of thoughts. Some about class, others about his siblings, friends, maybe tomorrow's lunch - and you. He thinks a lot about you. Your smile, your laugh, when he'll see you next and if you'll call him soon. His heart is too full of positive thoughts to worry.
It's really that simple. Kalim is too optimistic to be protective. The idea of you cheating on him hasn't crossed his mind once. If someone flirts with you? Well, so long as your cool with it then heck yeah. He agrees. He supports it because you deserve to be praised.
Which...actually ends up chasing people off anyways. Someone calls you gorgeous? Comments on your clothes or maybe compliments you on your performance during the last exam? You bet Kalim is right there egging them on. He is the poster boy of the golden-retriever supportive boyfriend. Spewing his speech about how you're amazing and that he is so lucky to have you. It gets embarrassing but it does the job. By the time he's done your pursuer either got annoyed and gave up...or recognized that it would be impossible to match Kalim's love. Only an idiot would break up with someone who adores the very ground they walk on, and you are no idiot.
Tell him to stop and he won't because (1) he loves seeing you flustered. It's like a reward and (2) he refuses to let his love go unknown. In other words, everyone knows that you are taken. There is not a single soul at Night Raven College that hasn't heard about Kalim's simpery for the prefect.
Another unconscious checkmark. Money is power, and Kalim's family has a lot of if. They've funded more events at NRC than Crowley has the will to remember. No one. And I mean NO ONE. Would even tinker with hurting you. It's funny how the moment you start to date Kalim, the hole in Ramshackle's living room gets fixed by the next day. Y'know, the one that's been weathered for months and letting all the heat out. The heat from the fireplace because Ramshackle never got proper thermal vents installed. All the broken locks in your dorm were changed, and there was a lovely fruit-basket sitting outside on the porch. Compliments of the NRC staff <3
Let's not forget about the uhh...extra support from Jamil. I know. I know. Jamil caring for Kalim's s/o is a given. He'd do it even if he wasn't asked. The fact is that Kalim requests for Jamil to help you. Kalm has the fortunate luxury of most things being handled on his behalf. He has no reason to worry because there are instilled factors put in place to prevent the emotion from being supported.
Yet, he is of mind to recognize that being with him has costs. He knows that you can handle your own, but what about threats you don't expect? The money grubby kiss-asses and subtle dangers like poison. He's not stupid. You're new to Twisted Wonderland and there is so much about this world that you don't know. He wants to help you personally, but knows that it would do more harm than good. So he confides in Jamil, and then never speaks of it again.
"I'm sure that they will be alright but can you keep an eye just in case? Don't let them know or they might feel scared!...really? Thank goodness! I am meeting them soon so byebye for now. Remember to keep this a secret, Jamil! Hehe~"
Vil Schoenheit
2/10
He's a narcissist
This one is a bit short, and for good reason. Vil's ego.
Vil needs to be perfect. Has to. He truly is the fairest and will be perceived as no less. The voice in his head may occasionally speak otherwise but it never takes hold over his control. You will never see it present itself. He would sooner die.
If there is a soul in Twisted Wonderland who is brave enough to move in on his s/o, then he commends them. It takes courage to willingly offer yourself up as an example to the masses.
He's imagined it. Some pour student attempting to flirt awkwardly and in the most boorish way. Be it a single rose on your desk with a letter of love declaration, or a witty one-liner they pulled out from a book? How dull. The only emotions that the figment evicts are disgust and pity. The former on your behalf for being subjected to such mediocrity, and the latter on behalf of the student. It's bad enough for them to be rejected by you, but now they must be shamed by Vil. He is a merciful man, but allow one to make the mistake of chasing what's his and others will soon follow. As is the way of this competitive world.
He does not scorn any for being attracted to you. How could he? After all, it takes a marvel to woo someone like himself. It's natural for others to notice your sparkle.
They may look, but not touch. A privilege he gives that is not to be betrayed.
Like Kalim, he has no consistent reason to worry. He is so confident in his ability to smite anyone and anything that it is the biggest deterrent to all with ill intent.
On occasion there may be instances of social media backlash, or invasions of privacy. These irk him somewhat, but he knows that they will pass. So long as you are not distressed, then he does not mind them.
"Oh dear, just ignore them. In a week or two you'll be yesterday's news and they will find some other poor soul to torture....hmm. If it bothers you so much, then I will shield you as we walk. Come. The paparazzi loves this face anyways,"
Idia Shroud
8/10
I have said it before and I will say it again. Idia's largest tie to his dorm is his attitude. *cough* His temper. He is highly competitive despite his self-deprecating nature. His ego is unmatched. He is also snarky, and if pushed can talk someone down harsher than Crewel.
He also has too much time on his hands. Schoolwork is a chore that ticks maybe a few hours out of his day. He barely leaves his room, and even more rarely leaves his dorm. For the most part your relationship relies on you coming to him. That's okay. You knew this going in and have accepted it. He is also grateful for how accommodating you've been with his situation and in reassuring him. Yes sometimes he can be an asshole and get greedy. You always put him in his place though, and somehow your relationship dynamic is balanced just right. Not perfect, but not unhealthy.
Comfortable. Secure. Idia is happy. Do you have any idea how hard that is to achieve? He is well aware. He sits around during his free time with it nagging him. Just waiting for the day you grow tired or he lets you down. Some things can't be undone. He's hurt Ortho at times despite loving him more than anything. He'll hurt you and he's scared that when it inevitably happens that you'll leave him.
Idia protects you from himself. From his want to hog your attention and let his greed for your attention take over. When you first started dating, he half-wanted to get you your own tablet to attend school with. Move you into Ignihyde and lock you away with him. Where you would only see him, spend time with him, eat your meals with him, play games with him, save your kindness for only him, and be safe. No more getting into normie messes like magic duels and fighting beasts. No more working towards finding a portal that will take you away...
Almost. He knew that would hurt you. Somehow he matured enough to know that and restrain himself. What the heck did you do to him?
This doesn't mean you're entirely free though. He's still frightened. People scare him and it's bad enough that he has to worry over Ortho. Now you?
He watches you go around campus through the security cameras, and very rarely are you spotted without his tablet floating nearby. His attendance has been better in the classes you're in, and he hates that his teachers have noticed. His reputation has improved, since he's forced to at least say a greeting to the people you hang around once in a while.
Jealousy fuels the flame. He holds back as much as he can, but Idia has never loved like this before. His social awkwardness completely takes the backseat if someone he deems a threat is nearby. If someone flirts with you he has no filter in the moment, and likely beats himself up for it later on. This happens often due to your popularity...ugh. Damn you normies and your small talk.
He's bound to witness one of the many skirmishes you get thrown into. Crowley treats you like a walking campus security...and he is not happy. Not at all. I stated above that he very rarely leaves his room. More so his dorm. Even he has limits and won't sit back just to hear yelling through his earmuffs. The first time it happens? Well, he's bolting. After? Lets just say he had some special security measures installed in his tablet....
"Are you sure you don't want to come over? I got this new game for us to play and I bet I can beat you at it....ugh. Fine. Whatever. Just text me when you're walking home - No! I'm not watching you! Just shut up and do it please!"
Malleus Draconia
10/10
…must I explain?
Do you have any idea what happened when the name 'Tsunotaro,' fell from your lips? Do you?
No. It didn't just make him laugh his little cute fufufufu~ in his head. It flipped a switch.
He fell in love. Right then and there. He might not have known it yet but it's the truth. No one had ever dared to call him something so silly or look at him with pure joy. The smug twinkle in your eye as you declared it proudly.
He was yours, and you were his. You were to the only person in all of Twisted Wonderland that could ask him to jump, and in turn he would ask "how high".
In that moment, Malleus Draconia would kill for you. He would die for you. Loving you would soon become as easy as breathing. In a way, it already was. He simply underestimated at the time how deep his affection for you would root itself in his heart. He mistook it for soft adoration, but it was merely the calm before the storm. That instant was the catalyst to a lifetime of love, and also a lifetime of sorrow.
Being a dragon has nothing to do with it. Bonds with this man run deep. Family is the most important thing, and you are his love. There is no puppy love dating. None of that shit. Only courting because you WILL be his betrothed and you WILL become his spouse. This man is in love and he will accept no other. That is simply his personality. His emotions are pure and heavy. Raw. Fragile. Honest.
He will keep you safe. He has seen you fearful. Seen your strength as you transverse new world. At first it intrigued him as he watched from the sidelines, but now he wishes to travel back and steal you away. Take you to safety and prevent all those horrible events from happening, even though they were necessary for your friends to grow. Nothing is worth you being hurt. He would sooner let the school burn than see another scar on your body or mind.
The day he came to terms with his affections (which did not take long) he swore, never again. Even prior to courting you, never. Your friendship was irreplaceable. The only thing allowed to take you from him would be your own mortality....and even that would soon become a stretch, he's working on it.
View Malleus like a warm blanket. Comforting, not suffocating. A calming presence that wraps around you and fills your body with warmth on the coldest days. You would never dream to leave him. He ensures it. He is not a perfect man, but he is one that will love you like no other on the planet. Many vow that their love is eternal on their wedding day. This is not always upheld.
Malleus is a man of his word. You will see it deep in his emerald eyes the moment he declares his love. Nothing will ever bring you harm. No one will ever offer what he can provide. Not a being in existence will be able to match the affection this man holds. His love truly is eternal.
"You are my deepest treasure. Do you realize what this means?...Haha. No, I will not force you to join me in gargoyle studies. Not unless you wish it...It means that I am yours, and in turn you are now mine. No one will dare harm you unless they wish to become my enemy,"
Bonus: PLATONIC! Bestie Grimm
10x10^10
Little man, big heart.
Heart says to protect the henchman
So protect the henchman he shall do
No googoo eyes are allowed. He will attack ferociously
He will challenge all threats, and then drag you to run away if someone actually tries to fight him
Little man leaves you his spare tuna if you look sad. Be grateful!
He just wants you to like it here, okay? Otherwise you'll drop out and he'll lose his enrollment! Don't think too much on it
Will defend your honor to the very end. Only the great Grimm can make fun of his henchman! All others will feel the power of his flames
....please patch him up if he returns home injured. Deuce tried but the bandages are never tied right
"What happened? Well wouldn't you like to know! Hmph. Nothing more than a few lower lackeys trying to tussle with the Great Grimm...Did I win? Of course I won! What kind of talk is that....sheesh. Last time I defend your name. Hmph. Nothing! I said nothing!"
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wayslidecool · 9 months
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arabic numerals ranked from worst to best by their potential as the lens in new year's glasses
#10: Seven (7)
seven is a very awkward number for a lot of things, and new year's glasses are no exception. its weird angular shape leaves no opening to put a lens in, and unlike the next entry, it's too wide to comfortably squeeze between lens in the second and fourth digits. and the impressive thing about 7 is that this is a number with plenty of writing variations, and yet i can't think of a single one that makes it an efficient lens! sorry 7. i think you're the best number for a rating scale, but that's about it.
#9: One (1)
the 2010s were a rough time for new year's glasses, huh? coming off the high of the 1990s and 2000s, people were determined to make the 2010s work, but that's a tall fucking order. the saving grace of 1, and the reason it's above 7, is that it's skinny enough that you can slide it between numbers and use the fourth digit of the year as the lens, but the fact you have to resort to that is only further evidence of how much 1 sucks at being the lens.
#8: Two (2)
two is definitely a tier above the previous two entries. it's an interesting and versatile enough shape that you can mess with it to try and make a viable spot for a lens, what with the upper loop and lower angle, but i feel no matter what you try, you always gotta make some concessions. like, you have enough to work with that a talented enough designer can make something that works, but usually the result is more "functional" than "good".
#7: Four (4)
now we're getting into numbers that could actually make for passable lenses. i mean, check it out! we have a closed loop here and everything, that has GOT to count for something! what makes me put four relatively low on the list is that with its right-triangle shape, i can't imagine it being a very comfortable shape for a lens, especially with how much ends up sticking out and downwards. still, a vast improvement over the previous three entries, even if it's basically just a worse 9.
#6: Five (5)
i feel like depending on what you prioritize in new year's glasses, these next two entries could end up going below the previous one, but personally, i think the not-closed round loop feels like a more practical spot for a lens than 4's closed-but-angular loop, y'know? so what if the loop isn't closed, it still mostly surrounds your eye, and feels generally passable to me. this is a number that wouldn't inspire the idea for new year's glasses, but certainly works now that the idea has been established.
#5: Three (3)
three is basically the same thing as 5, and i could even see some people putting it below 5, since 5's loop is a bit closer to being closed than either of 3's loops. that being said, 3's dual-loop is ultimately what gives it the edge to me. it ends up feeling more versatile to me. i feel the bottom loop is generally the correct choice, but just having the option of the top loop as well really helps it out. either way, after suffering through the 2010s and 2020s, i expect the 2030s to be a welcome breath of fresh air.
#4: Nine (9)
now we're getting to the really good ones. i mean, the 1990s are when the trend of new year's glasses started! if this number was good enough to kickstart the trend, then clearly it's a good number to put the lens in. having a closed round loop really goes a long way, it turns out! what puts 9 below the next three entries is the tail. having that swoop down towards your face feels like it'd be a bit uncomfortable, and this issue doesn't crop up with the next three entries. still, 9 is a trailblazer and its place in the New Year's Glasses Metagame needs to be respected.
#3: Six (6)
if 9's only issue is the tail getting all up in your face, then what better way to solve that then just turning it upside-down? it might just be me, put having it brush up against your forehead feels much, much less intrusive than having it brush up against your face. and plus, it can give the impression of a raised eyebrow! bonus! the 2030s-2050s are going to be a refreshing breath of fresh air following the awful new year's glasses of the 2010s and 2020s, but the 2060s are going to be a true new year's glasses renaissance.
#2: Eight (8)
hey, so remember how i put 3 above 5 since i felt the double loop made it a bit more versatile? well now imagine that, but both loops are closed. 8 makes for such a good lens, it's a little surprising we didn't see new year's glasses in the 1980s (i'm guessing having two of the same number is more inspiring than two different numbers?) either way, eight isn't content to give you just one closed loop. it'll give you a second closed loop right above. (or below!) 8 is a versatile number with many options, and i hope i can live to see the day we see it in new year's glasses. a true stand out in its field.
#1: Zero (0)
still, even with all the good years ahead, it's hard to ignore the fact that the best years are sadly behind us, with the 2000s being the absolute pinnacle of new year's glasses design. i mean, come on. a single loop with no frills is basically what glasses designs default to already, so using the middle two zeroes as the lens for glasses? impeccable design. the 1990s were good enough to kickstart the trend, but the 2000s were good enough to make us want to brute force the 2010s and 2020s. if that's not the mark of a good design, i don't know what is.
sadly, it's likely we'll never see design this good again. the next year with the middle two digits being two zeroes is 3000, and while we might be able to execute double-zero designs at the turn of each century, they'll end up looking weirdly lopsided in the process. i believe humans are hubristic enough to try and brute-force bad decades, but multiple bad centuries? forget about it.
oh well. happy new year
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koostattoos · 10 months
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~ Pairing: jock!Jungkook x nerd!reader
~ Genre: academic rivals to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, college au, slowburn
~ Summary: Summer vacation was right around the corner. Being in a program that required you at the beach every day was a big pro. After seeing Jeon Jungkook at the same beach as you everything was ruined. Jungkook was the school’s heartthrob. Girls throwing themselves at him left and right, going to parties every other day, and coming in and out of those parties with different girls. Not to mention he’s the biggest dick you’ve ever met. Avoiding him was all you could think about. His being there threw avoiding him out the window. What’s the worst that could happen?
~ teaser wc: 667
full fic here!
~
For the past thirty minutes you sat staring at your suitcase still trying to figure out what the hell to pack. The program that you joined had asked everyone if they wanted to go on a trip for extra credit to work for the beach down by Busan for junior year. Not that you needed it, you had zero plans made for this summer.
Niki’s out of town visiting her family for the summer and Sohee’s out doing what Sohee does, probably out exploring abandoned places or getting high somewhere. Who knows? You decided to get up and start packing. You walked over to your closet to skim over your outfits and carefully picked out a few outfits for the next few months. After two hours of packing, your phone dings with a notification from Niki
Niki: omg can’t believe it’s summer already! have fun on your little trip down to Busan. If anything happens call or text me right away! Luv ya!
You smile down at your phone. You and Niki have been friends for years, you first met in your freshman year of high school. She taught you everything, from how to do your make-up and style your clothes and all that fun stuff. Funny how you both got into the same college and ended up sharing the same dorm. She’s gone around the campus having different guys in and out. You would say you guys are complete opposites. You would rather stay in and watch a movie or something instead of going out and partying with drunk college students and grinding my body against sweaty skin.
After finishing up the last of your packing you respond.
Me: hey girl, omg I know! The school year went by so fast, say hi to your mom n dad for me and give Nani kisses for me! And of course, you’ll always be the first to know everything! Luv u too! Enjoy your summer 💞
Putting your phone down you go to check when you were supposed to leave and meet everyone at the train station. The ticket said 8:00 am. You set your alarm for tomorrow and get ready for bed. Checking your phone for the last time you turn the lights off and drift off to dream land.
~
Waking up to your alarm clock blaring in your ear. It’s near 6:00 am, you get up and start getting ready. Walking into the bathroom you bring out your skin care routine. After finishing up and brushing your teeth, you go back to where your vanity is and start with your makeup.
Choosing what to wear was easy, you chose a simple outfit. An oversized black hoodie, black parachute cargos, and white gamma forces. You come out of your room to the living room and take your bag off the counter and get the rest of the bags for the trip. The drive to the train station took longer than expected. Traffic was horrible. The ride was said to be only about 30 minutes, you ended up getting there about an hour later.
After blasting music on the way there you had finally arrived, you see a few of your classmates from previous classes and walk up to say hi. “Yunjin!” You shouted her name, catching her attention. She waves at you and starts making her way over. “Oh my god hey girl!” She goes in for a hug and starts talking about the next two months. “This is so exciting! I’ve been waiting for this trip for so long, I hope we get free time because I’m too exhausted from all those tests.” She says with low shoulders. Out of nowhere she gasps and turns to you “You’ll never fucking guess who I just saw” You look at her with a curious face “Who?” she leans in closer “Jeon Jungkook”. Your face had gone red. Hearing Jungkook’s name coming out of her mouth left you shocked. Not forgetting the history, you and the boy had.
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helen-with-an-a · 25 days
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Beautiful Girl Headcanons 2
I absolutely adore writing these and am very open to writing for other players to if people have any ideas, please let me know.
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Beautiful Girl Masterlist
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Amor said I love you first but Alexia had it in her mind for longer (she was scared Amor didn’t feel the same)
When Alexia was out with her injuries, Amor wore boots with her APS11 on them
The first time Alexia walked unaided after her ACL was straight into Amor’s arms and they hugged for a good 10 minutes in the middle of the gym with everyone else had to complete their workouts around them
Alexia learned how to cook all of Amor’s favourite foods and family recipes to surprise her when they first started dating
Amor is the big spoon
They always cook meals together (it’s mainly Amor doing all the work and Alexia hugging her from behind)
Alexia can braid hair really well but only on other people - that’s why Amor always has really nice hair for matches
Amor’s worst injury at Barça was a broken ankle during a Real Madrid match - it’s another reason why Alexia hates RM and doesn’t really talk to Athenea del Castillo (she was the player that injured Amor)
Amor is a big pusher of brunette/natural Alexia, pink hair Alexia is a close second
Amor never wears the same hairstyle twice in a season - each match it’s different (ponytail, 2 braids, bubble hair, bun, etc) - she and Alexia sit down just before the season starts and work out all the hairstyles Amor will wear and when (it’s Alexia’s favourite day in the off season)
Alexia hates alarms and Amor knows this so she makes sure she wakes Alexia up first with kisses and head scratches about 10 minutes before her alarm actually goes off
Amor and Alexia are both Nike athletes and they do so many couple ads together (they come as a package deal and everyone knows it)
At national camps Amor only ever slicks her hair back because her personal hairdresser isn’t there and she can’t do it herself
Amor’s go-to punishment for Bratty!Ale is edging but she’s very careful not to overwhelm her and she keeps promising that Ale is her good girl, it was just her actions that were bad
Amor was thinking about getting her nips pierced but then she found out that you can’t touch them for 2-3 weeks and no mouths on them for 6 so it was a big no-no
Amor is a big believer in no trousers on at home (in private obvs) and Alexia is very appreciative of this view
Amor jokes that Alexia should get PROPERTY OF AMOR tattooed on her pubic bone (under her underwear line) - Alexia is partially considering it but the 66 tattoo is her version of a compromise
Amor once decided it would be a fun challenge to see how turned on Alexia can get when Amor speaks Spanish (Alexia came so hard Amor had to call them both out of training the next day because Alexia was so exhausted and needed the sleep)
Amor loves it when Alexia wears dark green (think emerald) or bright blue (think cornflower) lingerie; Alexia loves seeing Amor in black lace
If they ever go shopping without each other or is sent PR packages, there is a fashion show/haul of everything they got
Alexia once threw out all of Amor’s non-thong underwear and refused to let her get any more (until Amor complained they were uncomfortable to play football in)
Amor’s record time of getting Alexia to cum was 2 minutes 58 seconds - it was after the World Cup and they hadn’t had sex in well over 8 weeks and Amor spoke exclusively in Spanish during the celebrations (Amor is on a mission to break that record)
They’re both neat freaks and having a clean home makes them both feel so much better about everything
Once a month Alexia and Amor do their high-maintenance-to-be-low-maintenance routines at home and it’s all DIY stuff and it’s a very sacred thing for them
The first time Alexia truly entered subspace it scared the living daylights out of her - Amor recognised what it was immediately but it unnerved her to see Alexia so scared and unsure
Alexia has a love-hate relationship with Amor getting sick - she hates it because her mi amor is ill and she doesn’t want to see her in any discomfort/pain but she also knows that if she does a good job, Amor will absolutely shower her in praise/rewards when she’s feeling better
Despite Amor being in charge in the bedroom/when everything is too much for Alexia, she is very careful to help split the mental load of everything else so that Amor doesn’t get stressed etc
Whilst its using Alexia on the receiving side of things, she sometimes begs Amor to let her eat her out/fuck her because she wants Amor to feel the same way she does (service top kinda vibes)
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absolutebl · 9 months
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Best & Worst BLs of 2023
My Top 15 BLs of 2023 are (in order)
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1 Our Dating Sim
Korea Viki
Nerds in love, deadlines, gaming, teasing, pining tiny idiots, casual affection, linguistic oops, ADORABLE. If you haven't watched this, it's a must. A perfect short form KBL, an office set reunion romance featuring geeks that really suits 8 eps with no fluff and no chaff. Just comforting and yummy.
I adored every aspect from the casting to the pristinely simple premise to the quietly smooth execution. Sure it’s low stakes, but that makes it high domesticity and extremely warm and gentle. This is a fuzzy blanket of a story - a cozy BL. It lives in my rewatch pile and you know what’s best about it? Every single episode is in that pile. There’s no skipping with this one, it might be good natured and calmly sweet but it’s tight and the pacing is excellent.
Also recieves my 2023 award for best giggle.
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2 I Cannot Reach You
AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai
Japan Netflix
This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen.
Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way.
This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.
Also wins the best thirst award.
These were the 2 BLs that got 10/10 from me in 2023. The rest of these got 9/10 from me.
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3 My School President
Thailand YouTube
GMMTV gave us a classic high school set Thai BL with tropes like messy boys singing their feelings that made this one Love Sick for the modern age with all the gentle sweetness and pining ache, but none of the dated damaging tropes or issues. Who let my BL be this wholesome and funny? My favourite GMMTV BL offering to date. And yes, I've watched them ALL.
Received the Namgoong award for best wingman 2023.
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4 I Feel You Linger in the Air
Thailand grey
IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework. Steeped in history and family drama this is an elegant and classy BL. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. It's a marker of how great it was that it's so high on my list despite the ending which was very much not what I wanted.
Additional accolade, sexiest moment of 2023 - (the oil scene).
You could try to fight me, but you'll have no grip.
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5 Kiseki: Dear to Me
Taiwan Gaga & Viki
The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs (everyone is queer), and a KILLER side couple. It involves all the tropes under a very offhand framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan.
Best side couple 2023!
(thank goodness Taiwan made this list!)
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6 Jun and Jun
Korea Viki
A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching.
Best flirting 2023.
AKA "the tongue knows" award
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7 The Eighth Sense
Korea Viki
This one is a bit chewy and sticky and less perfect than most KBLs. It’s got a bit of an age gap, country boy/city boy, stellar acting, complex characters, and leads with great chemistry and tension. This isn’t in the KBL bubble, there’s sharp edges and lots of triggers. For a BL the darkness of the content left me feeling unsettled (which is the only reason it didn't get a perfect score) but it has a glorious ending and that counts for a lot.
2023's most likely to appeal to non-BL watchers.
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8 Unintentional Love Story
Korea iQIYI
The lead, Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT, who carried this show. He was luminous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, which he used to carry a killer plot and challenging role. Forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the eyes EMOTING at us in PAIN. Driven by external conflict, social tension and pressure this story seems simple but it's actually refined and quite complex. I loved this show.
Best story structure 2023.
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9 My Personal Weatherman
AKA Taikan Yoho
Japan Gaga
This is classic yaoi of the kind that really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's high heat is well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" which is exacerbated by the fact that they're already fucking. Sure is sexy tho.
Best use of props 2023 for the shower of sheets.
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10 Our Dining Table
AKA Bokura no Shokutaku
Japan Gaga
Lonely salaryman and talented cook gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. It's lovely & sweet with the romance beats used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy. Special.
First prize for domesticity.
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11 Laws of Attraction
Thailand iQIYI
This is a great gay suspense thriller with several solid couples, fun plot, killer characters, queer rep, and a happy ending. It’s tons of fun and I had an absolute blast watching it.
Charn wins my favorite character of 2023.
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12 La Pluie
Thailand Viki
This BL takes to task the fated mates trope and what it means to have love chained intimately to predestination. It’s about how faith in destiny before choice diminishes the authenticity of emotion, relationships, and connection. This is a high concept to examine through the lens of a BL. With good chemistry and decent acting all around, plus some excellent high heat and representation of consent and a few other rare tropes, this one has to (like it’s sibling show My Ride) earn high marks.
Most interesting concept 2023.
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13 The New Employee
Korea Viki
So good, SO QUEER, so soft, a near pitch perfect office BL with conflict derived from that setting. Also found family and a lesbian bestie. This is what I wanted from this new crop of office set KBLs ALL ALONG. Rainbow rice cakes forever!
Best overall queer rep from Korea.
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14 Step By Step
Thailand Gaga & YouTube & Viki
This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one. This was an office romance between stern boss and sweet subordinate that felt more authentic to an office environment than previous Thai BLs of this ilk which added tension to the narrative and character development.
Chot wins best queer character 2023.
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15 Love Tractor
Korea iQIYI
Most of this country-set BL had me feral for the beautiful broken city boy and his hot young farmer. Hyung romance, puppy/cat pairing, open frankness meets jaded reserve, language play, water hose frolicking, only one bed = all my favorite silly tropes.
Biggest "he so pretty" gasp of the year award.
10 Worst BLs of 2023 (that I watched)
My Blessing
My Universe: Casanova Begins
Boyband the series
Cafe In Love
Chains of Heart
Hit Bite Love
Only Friends
Senior Love Me
The Luminous Solution
The Promise
Yes, you read that right. I know I'm against the flow but I really did not like Only Friends. Everyone's taste is different.
However I DNFed faster and more BL's this year than ever before, so that means my 10 worst probably aren't quite reflective...
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10 Probably Actually Worst BLs (I dropped 'em)
My Story
The Day I Loved You
Beyond the Star
Crazy Handsome Rich
Dinosaur Love
House of Stars
Mr Cinderella 2
Love Bill
Stormy Honeymoon
The Star Always Follow You
Codicils in General
I only carefully track/watch Thailand, Taiwan, Korea, and Japan. Other countries are not fully represented.
My Numbers
So my spreadsheet chronicled 138 BLs that finish airing in 2023.
101 = watched & reviewed
2 = still in the docket (WDYEY2 & Love Syndrome III)
15 = CNF (could not find)
20 = DNF (which also accounts for how few very low scores I handed out in 2023 as opposed to previous years, I just stopped watching). Speaking of which...
Ratings spread
(# of stars. #of BLs given that rating)
0 (see the DNFs instead)
2 - IT'S DEPRESSING they killed the gay, save yourself
7 - I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM WATCHING AND NEITHER DOES IT
7 - FATALLY FLAWED but still basically BL, however… do we want to support this kind of behavior?
9 - WATCH IF YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO but don’t expect much, it’s a total hot mess
17 - WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED probably around the ending or in narrative structure/cohesion or censorship
14 - RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS i.e. isn’t quite BL, convoluted, not strictly HEA, too short/long, or chemistry issues
30 - RECOMMENDED some concerns around tropes (like dub con) or story structure but still satisfies as BL
13 - ABSOLUTELY RECOMMENDED probably a few pacing issues or one flaw
2 - HIGHLY RECOMMENDED faithful to tropes, happy ending, good chemistry, few flaws, high rewatch potential
(source)
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pistatsia · 10 months
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OKAY so the only thing I want to say about yesterday's spoilers (Ness backstory) is that borderliner* Ness is canon now lol
✅ explosive anger
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✅ feeling neglected, alone, misunderstood most of the time
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✅ low self-esteem and the resulting self-hatred
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✅ strong, overwhelming emotions
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(feelings that can't be explained == too high (for average person) bursts of them. Inability to handle them)
✅ black and white thinking
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(Isagi's either good (tosses to Kaiser) or bad (doesn't toss to Kaiser) lol)
✅ fear of abandonment + self-harm
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✅ very intense, frequent, extreme emotional swings
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(difference of one second)
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(difference of one second pt.2)
✅ maladaptive daydreaming
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✅ determining one's value through relationships with others
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✅ unstable relationships
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I'm really disappointed that chapter haven't shown Ness' attempts to gain his parents and siblings love but, eh, okay. I can work with that
*
A little background on who people with borderline personality disorder are and where do they come from. (Of course, each case is unique. I'm talking about the average manifestation of the disorder here.)
Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) is a type of personality disorder in which a person is unstable, hypersensitive, highly anxious, and has no sense of self (no feeling of identity). One in ten patients end up committing suicide.
In fact, borderliners are people with no emotional skin. What for a stable person is a small domestic nuisance - for a borderliner is boundless terror, fear, a complete sense of helplessness and overwhelming self-loathing. Are you sick? It's your fault, you're worthless. You forgot your pass and had to buy an underground ticket? You're disgusting, step under a train right now. You forgot the food in the fridge and it spoilt? Don't you dare eat for another three days, punish yourself, cut yourself because you're nothing. That's not an exaggeration, it's true. And then you see an advert with a doggy and you laugh until you cry and all is fine.
It's like that dozens of times in one day.
Why do borderliners work this way? Heredity plays a role (which in Ness's case can be seen, for example, by the fact that he reacted acutely to some things even as a child), but to a greater extent, of course, the family, because when BPD is treated in the early stages, it is more easily reduced to remission (but does not disappear completely - it is like the core of the personality). Speaking of family types, typically borderliners come out of families with a narcissistic parent or the same borderline. Why exactly is that the case?
Because life with a narcissist/borderliner parent is an endless battlefield in which the child is forced to survive. Any emotion you have, if it doesn't fall under the parent's incomprehensible ideas, is repulsive. Any request you make and attempt to speak your mind is a violation of all laws and the worst offence. Today you're the golden child, tomorrow you're trash. Today your mom says she loves you, and tomorrow she blames you for divorcing your dad. Today dad likes the tea you made him, tomorrow he'll throw it in your face. It's a constant violation of personal space, an inability to have privacy, an impossibility to defend your interests - and yet a staggering neglect, a removal of the child from your life. Parents in such families usually divide their children into "golden" and "outcast" children, emphasising in every possible way how terrible the lousy sheep of the family (the outcast child) is, and encouraging bullying by their siblings.
Sounds similar to Ness's story, doesn't it?
In such families, the child by the age of 6 or 7 already knows that he is disgusting, horrible, and must do anything to avoid being abandoned - because the parents emphasise in every possible way that he is horrible, but they (for now) keep him out of mercy. A child learns by the slightest movement of the eyebrows and corner of the mouth to know when mom loves you and when she hates you, when dad is good and when he's bad.
The childhood of such children is a battlefield, and they come out of it emotionally disabled. For example, a very common consequence of living in such a family, in addition to BPD, is PTSD. Yeah, like war veterans.
(and by the way, borderliners VERY often end up paired with… Narcissists. Because it's a familiar love-hate game. And on top of that, also a beautiful (non-existent) personality to take a bite out of for your non-existent self))
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(if it seems like I'm somehow writing about borderline disorder a bit too unkindly - I love Ness and sympathise with him. It's me whom I don't love lol)
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jpmarvel90 · 1 year
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Grief
Masterlist Natasha Masterlist
Relationship: Natasha x Reader, Sister Wanda x Sister Reader
Summary: After Clint's death, Natasha falls of the rails and her marriage is at stake.
Word Count: 6554
Y/n’s POV:
When Clint died, it affected everyone in the team. But most of all, it affected his best friend, Nat. After his funeral, Nat started to withdraw from everyone, including me, her wife. Her walls went up and she almost went into self-destruct mode. I barely saw her. She would be out all-night doing God knows what. Most of the mornings when she would eventually come back home, she was drunk or high.
She had stopped working, which was for the best anyway as she wasn’t in the right mind set for it. But work was always her outlet when things got rough for her. I barely saw her and when I did, she would talk to me. I was lucky if I got a good morning or goodbye. She would never tell me where she was or where she was going. At first I would wait up for her, terrified something had happened, then she would come in to bed in the early hours, not even addressing the fact she had been out all night.
Eventually, I would be asleep before she came in and then she would be gone before I woke up. I felt helpless that I couldn’t help her. I would try to get her to open up, but she would just ignore me. We started to argue more, something we had rarely done. If we disagreed, we would always talk about it. Even if we didn’t end up agreeing, it would rarely end up in a fight. Now, it seemed like just saying good morning would get a rise out of her.
The team were worried too, and they had all tried to help her as well. But it was no use. I spent so much time talking to my sister Wanda about how I was worried that she was slipping away. But she would encourage me to be patient and just be there so when she was ready to talk, she knew I was there to listen. But she was becoming nasty and the worst she got, the harder it became.
I would tell myself that she had lost her best friend, the man that saved her life and gave her a second chance to fight for what was right. If I ever lost Wanda, I would be devastated and know that I wouldn’t cope. I was Natasha’s wife. It was my job to be there for her, for better or for worse. But it looked like better was never going to make its way back again.
It was late on a Tuesday evening when Natasha stumbled through the door to our house. The smell of alcohol seeped off her and she looked a mess. When looked closer, I could see lipstick on her neck. I felt my heart constrict at the sight, but I wasn’t going to jump to any conclusions. “Nat, where have you been?” I asked calmly, making way towards her. She just started to giggle. “I wanted a drink.” She slurred out, pushing past me to the stairs.
I followed her and watched as she stumbled around trying to get herself ready for bed. I knew there was no use in talking to her now. She was drunk and probably wouldn’t hear anything I had to say anyway. So, I waited. I sat up in bed and waited until she woke up a few hours later. One thing about Nat was she never got a hangover so was always ready to function the next day. She looked at me surprised when she saw me awake and watching her. I heard her sigh, but we needed to talk. It had been 6 months since Clint died and she was getting worse. I know she is grieving but this isn’t healthy, and I hate not being able to help her. What sort of a wife isn’t able to comfort the person they love?
“Where were you last night?” I asked, keeping my voice calm and low, not wanting to frustrate her. But it didn’t work. “I was just out for a drink.” She said coldly, making her way to the bathroom. “Please Nat, I’m worried about you. I want to help you.” I said trying to contain the emotions. “I don’t need your help Y/n. I’m fine.” She huffed, doing everything to ignore looking in my direction.
“I know you’re hurting, and I can’t begin to imagine how you’re feeling, but you can’t keep doing this. It’s unhealthy.” I said and I could tell she was starting to get angry, but I wasn’t planning on backing down today. “Exactly, you don’t know what I’m feeling so just back the fuck off.” She spat, shoving past me to leave.
I ran down the stairs and blocked the door so she couldn’t leave. “Natasha, I’m your wife. I’m not going to force you to talk to me, but please talk to someone. You need help. I’m worried about you. I don’t know where you go and then you come home drunk and last night you came home with lipstick on you.” I said frustrated, my resolve breaking.
She slammed her keys down on to the counter and walked towards me not breaking eye contact. “I do not need you telling me what to do. Being my wife doesn’t give you some special pass to know everything about me. And the so what, I was having fun last night. Isn’t that a good thing?” She said with an evil smirk on her face. “Fun with someone else is that what you mean?” I ask, almost at a whisper, terrified of her answer.
She paused for a moment before answering. “Yeah, someone who doesn’t badger me at every minute of the day.” She said it so casually, and I felt my heart shatter. She cheated. “I mean that little to you, that you would go and cheat?” I asked. “This just isn’t working anymore Y/n. Neither of us are happy. Let’s just cut our loses whilst we can.” Her words were cold and callous. “Nat, you don’t mean that. We’re married, we’ve been together for 8 years. You’re grieving and if you need space, then I’ll give it to you. But please, this isn’t the end for us.” I argued, tears filling my eyes.
“Well, maybe 8 years was enough. This isn’t the grief talking Y/n. I can’t do this anymore. I think we should break up.” She said, not making eye contact anymore. I felt sick and my legs were shaking. “Break up? You want a divorce?” I asked in shock, and she just nodded. I was speechless. I looked at her and I knew that there was nothing that I could do. I moved away from the door and walked away from her, tears streaming down my face.
When I heard the door close, as she left, I fell to my knees and broke down. I couldn’t believe that the woman that I had fallen in love with could do that to me. Not wanting to stay in this house any longer, I grabbed my bags and filled them with my clothes and anything I wanted to take with me. Which wasn’t much as I didn’t want the memories of this anymore. I locked the door and push my key through the letter box. I packed up my car and made my way to the compound.
I was greeted by Jarvis, and I asked where Tony was. As usual he was in his lab. I was making my way there when Wanda saw me and chased after me, trying to find out what’s wrong. “Y/n/n, please slow down. Have you been crying?” She asked as I ignored her and found Tony. “Y/n what do I owe the pleasu…. Y/n, oh God what’s wrong” He asked, his voice turning to one of concern. “Can I move back in please?” I asked with no emotion to my voice.
Both him and Wanda looked at me confused. “This place will always be your home, but what about Nat?” Tony asked and I felt myself shudder at her name. “She’s asked for a divorce.” I stated and they both gasped. Wanda pulled me into a tight hug. “She’s just grieving Y/n she didn’t mean it.” Tony tried to comfort me, but it was no use. I shook my head. “She said it wasn’t that. She wasn’t happy and she um. She cheated last night.” I shared and I felt Wanda’s grip on my arm tighten. I looked up to see her eyes going red. “I’m going to kill her.” She said but I grabbed her hand.
“No Wanda. It’s not worth it. Clearly, I was stupid to ever believe that she ever truly loved me. I never should have let my walls down.” Wanda’s eyes calmed and she looked at me with pity. “Please don’t put them back up Y/n. I can’t see you like that again.” She pleaded but it was too late. I didn’t plan to let anyone back in. “Tony, could you give me a number of a divorce lawyer? I’d rather get this done and out of the way so we can move on.” I explained.
I noticed his eyes move towards Wanda with concern, but I ignored it. “Sure, I’ll email you the details for when you’re ready.” She offered with a kind smile. I thanked him and made my way to my car to grab my bags. Wanda helped as we unpacked my things in silence. I had never felt so lost and hurt. Wanda could feel the pain I was in, and I could tell it was hurting her to see it. I started to block off my mind, not wanting her to her my thoughts. The first step to building my walls back up.
Third Person POV:
The team were shocked by Natasha’s actions. They barely saw her anymore, but how she so callously broke up with Y/n was something none of them expected. Natasha had never been happier than when she was with Y/n. They all knew she was hurting, but to cheat on Y/n and ask for a divorce was a complete shock. Although they understood that Natasha was grieving, many of them were angry at her.
Y/n had done nothing but be there for Natasha. She had never pushed, and she had taken every argument and insult that Natasha would throw at her in the heat of the argument. She stayed when many people would have left. Instead of working to get better for her wife, she pushed her away and did the one thing that was unforgivable. She broke Y/n’s trust the moment she decided to cheat. The team didn’t recognise Natasha anymore and they didn’t know what to do. They only person they thought that could get through to her was slowly falling into their own pit of depression.
Y/n thought she was being strong by hiding her feelings and focusing back on work. But the team could see past it. They knew she was hurting, and it pained them that they couldn’t help. When Y/n and Wanda joined the team, both of them struggled to settle in. But Y/n found it harder. She had spent more of her life in Hydra, and it took years before she was the fun, caring and loving person that the team grew to know. They were terrified that she was going to fall back to being that broken girl that joined the team 10 years ago.
Everyone was shocked when Y/n got divorce papers so soon. They thought she would give Nat time to realise her mistake, but Y/n was beyond hurt now and was doing everything she could to protect what as left of her heart. Wanda was most worried. Not being able to understand how Y/n was feeling scared her. Even in Hydra when Y/n would block Wanda from her mind, she still spoke to her. But this time she had totally shut herself off.
Y/n threw herself into missions and was nearly always away from the compound. For Fury it was great. Her success rate was high, and she never complained regardless of what the mission was. He started to use the fact that she was hurting to his advantage, which frustrated, Tony, Steve and Wanda. But Y/n passed all evaluations and was will which didn’t really given them a leg to stand on to stop it.
On team missions, it was clear that Y/n was reckless. Not with the safety of others or the success of the mission, but with her own life. On multiple occasions she would come back with some form of injury, but it wouldn’t stop her. Y/n main focus was to get the job done and protect Wanda. The last person that she truly cared for.
She still loved the team, but Wanda had been there her whole life. Y/n would do anything to make sure her sister came home in one piece, regardless of the cost. Wanda was the last person Y/n could lose. She knew she would never come back from that if she did. Y/n would rather die if it meant that Wanda survived.
It was a solo mission that ultimately brought trouble for Y/n. Fury had underestimated the forces that Y/n would go up against and within a few hours, Y/n was missing. Steve was leading comms from the compound and her tracker and comms were down. There was no sign of her. Tony started to do all he could to find her, whilst Steve had to have the difficult conversation with her sister.
He found Wanda in the common room reading when he took a seat next to her. She looked up and instantly her eyes started to gloss over. “Its Y/n isn’t it.” She said before Steve could say anything. He nodded sombrely. “She’s missing. Tony and SHEILD are doing everything they can to find her.” He explained and Wanda broke down. Steve was quick to pull her into his arms to hold her. “I can’t lose her Steve. She’s all I’ve got. I should have done more. She was hurting and I couldn’t help. My own sister. I let her go back to closing herself off and now she’s gone.” Wanda cried into Steve’s shoulder who tried to keep her calm.
“You did everything you could Wanda. Do not blame yourself. No one could have helped her in the state she was in. You being there was what she needed, and you did that. This was just her way of coping.” She consoled. “I’m terrified Steve. My sister can’t be dead.” She sobbed. “Y/n is dead?” both Steve and Wanda’s head shot up, anger filling the witch’s eyes when she saw the source of the voice.
Nat’s POV:
Losing Clint was the hardest thing I’ve had to go through. He was the reason I was able to make a difference and start to clear my ledger. He made a choice to save me and give me a second chance. One that lead to me gaining a family and a job that allowed me to make a difference. He was the reason I met my wife.
I knew I was pushing everyone away, but I couldn’t help it. I could feel the grief consume me and I was angry at everyone. So, I didn’t what I did best, I ran from my feelings. I knew I was hurting Y/n but in my mind, I didn’t care. I knew she would be there for me when I got my shit together. She didn’t push me at the start, and I was grateful for that. But then she would question where I was more, and I didn’t want to talk about it. So, I pushed her even further.
I started to dread coming home and seeing her. Our relationship wasn’t the same anymore. I know it was my fault but in the heat of the moment, I decided I wasn’t prepared to do that anymore. So, I did something I never thought I would do. I broke her trust and then asked for a divorce. I could see her heart break but the grief I was feeling was selfish and I didn’t care. So, I left.
If I had not been so fucking stupid, I would have seen that Y/n had done everything I needed to work through my grief. I was just too stubborn to do what I needed to. I let it consume me and I didn’t care who I hurt along the way. Even if that was my wife. The woman that I adored with all my heart. The woman I would die for. I was an asshole.
I lied to her. I didn’t cheat. Well, I guess technically you could say I did. I kissed another woman, then as it started to go further, I realised what I was doing and stopped it. I couldn’t do that to Y/n, even if I couldn’t see that everything else I was doing was toxic towards her.
After going on a 3-day bender, I found myself at the door of Clint’s old house, knocking. Laura opened the door with a smile which dropped when she saw my state. “Natasha, what are you doing here?” She asked a little shocked. I hadn’t seen her since the funeral. I could face her knowing that Clint was gone. Clearly my subconscious had brought me here. “I uh. I don’t really know.” I told her honestly and she was quick to pull me inside.
She made a pot of coffee and we talked for a while. I apologised for not being around. But she said that she was doing good. She had her good days and her bad, but she was strong for the kids, and they were finally started to heal as they knew that Clint wouldn’t want them to be stuck in a cycle of grief.
Her words hit home with me. If his wife and kids could move on with their grief, why couldn’t I? “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look awful.” Laura said with a smirk, but worried eyes. “Yeah, I’ve not really been dealing with everything so well.” I explained and she nodded. “So I’ve heard.” She responded and I looked at her confused. “I see the team regularly. Tony told me that you and Y/n aren’t together anymore.” She said and I was shocked that she knew.
“I must say, you’re a fucking idiot.” She said and it shocked me. “What?” I asked confused. “You let go, well pushed away, someone as great as Y/n. I never too you for the cheating type Natasha. I know you’ve been grieving but you were selfish. Grief doesn’t give you a free pass to hurt someone else.” She scolded me and my eyes dropped to my hands in embarrassment. “We weren’t in a good place. We were fighting all the time and it seemed like the right decision.” I defended.
“Well, you’re even more of an idiot than I thought. Y/n was terrified that she was going to lose you. That you’d end up hurt or worse. She did everything that you wanted until it was becoming too much. Then you broke her trust for what? Because she cared too much about you to let you throw away your life as you were doing. You know, Clint didn’t save you for you to fall back to your old habits.” She said sternly. She really wasn’t letting me off the hook here.
“I would do anything to have even one more minute with Clint. Yet you are happy to throw away the one good thing in your life?” She questioned and I could see the hurt in her eyes. “If you want to self-destruct, fine. But breaking someone who worked so hard to build themselves up is unacceptable. Life is short, don’t throw it away.” As she spoke, it was like a movie reel was playing in my head of all the horrible things I had done to Y/n over the last 6 months. Then I saw everything good thing she had ever done for me. I was a coward, and I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to fix what I’ve broken.
I spend the next couple of weeks with Laura. She helped me to get my shit together. Spending time with her and the kids help me to come to terms with losing Clint and finally being in a position I could move on and honour Clint in the way he deserved. I had to make myself better not just for me, but for my wife. I eventually went back home ready to fix things with Y/n. Firstly, I needed to explain to her what really happened that night.
I opened the door to our house, and it struggled to open as there was a pile of post. I picked it all up and was surprised when I saw a key underneath it all. I picked it up and realised it was Y/n’s key. I called out to her, but knew she wasn’t here as her car was gone. I made my way up to our room and saw all of her things were gone. I don’t know what I was expecting. I asked her for a divorce, so of course she wasn’t going to wait for me anymore.
After clearing up a bit, I started making my way through the mail and paused when I got to a large A4 envelope. I opened it and felt my heart complete shatter. It was divorce papers. Fuck, I was too late. I grabbed my keys and made my way to compound. I knew she’d have gone back there to be with Wanda.
Tears were falling down my cheeks the whole way there. I can’t believe that I hurt the one person I love more than life itself. How could I let my grief get to the point I was willing to let her go? When I got to the compound I ran as quickly as I could to find her but was greeted by a sobbing Wanda in the common room. Steve was holding her, and I could tell that he was holding back tears as well.
Then I heard the words that shattered my world. “I’m terrified Steve. My sister can’t be dead.” Wanda sobbed and I couldn’t believe what I had heard. I was speaking before I even knew it. “Y/n is dead?” I asked. They both looked up at me and I could see how angry Wanda was. Her eyes had turned red. She stood up and marched over to me and before I knew it, I was on the floor with a bloodied nose and Wanda stood over me.
Ok I deserved that. Jeeze she packs a hell of a punch. “This is all your fault! You were so selfish that you pushed her to her limit.” Wanda screamed at me. I could hear the pain in her voice. What had happened? Where was Y/n? Was she actually dead? I had all these questions flying around my head, but the words didn’t come out. At my silence, Wanda started to generate an energy ball. I prepared myself for the impact, but it never came.
I looked up and saw Wanda’s hands drop to her side, the energy ball extinguished. She fell to her knees, heart breaking sobs leaving her. I sat up and pulled her towards me. I hated seeing her like this. She fought my comfort but eventually gave in. When she had calmed down, she pulled away, the anger had replaced the sadness that filled her eyes a moment ago. “If anything happens to Y/n, I’ll never forgive you.” She said coldly and walked off.
Steve was looking at me like I’d never seen before. He was disappointed but also hurt. “Steve, where’s Y/n? What is going on?” I asked needing to know what was actually happening. Steve went on to explain what had happened and the guilt was just continuing to grow. “She shut down Nat. It was like she was when she first got here. Her only priorities were missions and protecting Wanda. I know you were grieving, but I never thought you’d ever be able to do what you’ve done to her.” I couldn’t respond to him. I knew exactly what I had done and how unforgivable it was. I just had to hope that Y/n would come back safe to try to fix this.
For the next two weeks we all worked as hard as we could to find Y/n. We attacked numerous Hydra bases in the hopes we’d get more information, but it was useless. The more time that went on the more we realised, it was a high possibility that Hydra didn’t have her and that she had been hurt, or worse, in a fight with them.
Over these weeks, I had slowly been able to gain the others trust back. Wanda still hated me, and I didn’t blame her for that, but we worked well together. We both had the same drive and we understood how the other was feeling. We often would end up in the kitchen late at night talking about what was going on in our heads. “When I lost Pietro, I thought I would never get out of the darkness, but Y/n was there guiding me back to the light. When she started throwing herself into missions, I knew it was only a matter of time before something would happen. I tried everything I could to get to her, but she had shut me out. I failed her.” 
I watched the turmoil on Wanda’s face. I hated that I had caused Y/n to close herself off to the world again. “Wanda, it’s not your fault. I broke her when I promised I never would. She cares for you, and she would hate that you are blaming yourself.” I try to comfort her. She sniffles and nods in acknowledgement. “Why did you do it?” She asked quietly but her eyes were boring into me.
I took a breath. “It’s a shit excuse, but with all the fighting we were doing, I convinced myself that we were coming to an end, and it was best to end it. I was too lost to realise that I was the cause of all the fighting and Y/n was just trying to help. When I came home to find the divorce papers, it felt like my world stopped. I took her for granted thinking that she would always be there no matter how horrible I was.” I explained. I was waiting for another punch or yelling but nothing came.
Wanda looked at me with sad eyes. “Is that why you cheated?” She asked and was quickly shaking my head. “I didn’t cheat. Well not like she thinks. I lied.” I said and I saw a hint of anger in Wanda’s eyes. “You lied about cheating?” She asked clearly not believing me, but I quickly told her to go into my mind and see what really happened that night. When her eyes returned to their normal emerald green she sighed. “I’m terrified that I’m going to lose her, like I lost Clint, but she won’t know that I’m sorry and I truly love her. She’s my light, my life. I can’t live in this world without her.” I started to cry and was shocked when Wanda comforted me.
“You broke her walls down once, maybe you can do it again.” She said calmly. “You really think she’d let me back in?” I asked surprised. “There was one emotion she couldn’t shut off from me the last few weeks, her love for you. It was so strong she couldn’t block it off. That doesn’t mean that she’ll forgive you, but I know she got the papers to protect herself. She thought it would stop the pain, but it didn’t.” She explained and I felt a small bit of hope.
The next morning, I was woken by Steve rushing into my room. “The quinjet is about to land. Y/n is on it.” He said out of breath. I shot out of bed and ran with him to the landing pad. “Do we know how she is?” I asked, wanting to be prepared for what we were about to see. “No, Fury’s team found her but there was no report of her condition.” He shared. We arrived and I stood next to Wanda, taking her hand in mine to give her comfort.
We could hear an argument from the back of the yet. “Y/n, you need to go to the medbay, please just get on the gurney.” We could hear Bruce say frustrated. “I’m fine Bruce, I don’t need a bed. My legs will be able to carry me to the medbay and I’ll let you do what every you need to do.” Hearing her voice was a relief and I could hear Wanda let out a big of a chuckle. As Y/n appeared at the back of jet, I noticed that she was covered in cuts and bruises and her shirt was saturated in blood.
Bruce was walking next to her, helping her as she limped her way over towards us. Wanda was quick to let go of my hand and made her way to Y/n. She was hesitant but still pulled her into a hug. “You scared the shit out of me! Don’t you dare do that again.” She scolded, but Wanda was quick to hug her again. “Here, let me help you.” Steve said, jogging over to help Bruce get Y/n to the medbay.
My heart rate was increasing with every step closer they took. Then our eyes met and for a brief moment it was like I couldn’t breathe. “As if getting shot wasn’t bad enough.” She muttered under her breath, but loud enough that I could hear. I followed as they took her to the medbay and watched as they started to patch her up. Wanda stayed with her whilst the rest of us observed from the waiting area.
Once he was done, Bruce came out to give us an update. “She’s doing good. Bullet wound to her shoulder and abdomen, but both were through and throughs. She did a good job of keeping them clean and stemming the bleeding until she was found. She got some small injuries such as broken ribs, fractured eye socket and a few broken fingers. But they’ll heal over time. She’s lucky.” She explained and we thanked him before making our way into the room. I took my place next to Y/n and couldn’t hold back anymore.
I grabbed her hand between mine. “Thank God you’re ok. I was so scared.” I said through tears. She turned to look at me, but her eyes were empty. Wanda was right, she had closed herself off again. She didn’t respond to me, but she also didn’t take her hand away. “What happened?” Wanda asked from her seat next to Y/n’s bed. “Mission went sideways. I was able to fight them off as best I could before I got hit. Thankfully I was able to get away. But the bleeding was too much so I took shelter in an abandoned hut. I was in and out of consciousness for a while and with no comms I had no way to call for help. Eventually I was found by a hunter and his son. They helped me get in contact with Fury and now I’m here.” She summarised.
Wanda held her hand tighter and ran her hand through Y/n’s hair. “I thought I lost you. Please, you have to be more careful and stop taking so many missions.” She pleaded. We were all surprised when Y/n agreed so easily. The team started to disperse, saying their goodbyes leaving just Wanda, Y/n and me. Wanda looked between us and stood up to leave. “I’ll come back later with some dinner.” She said but Y/n wouldn’t let go of her hand. I could tell they were having a conversation in their minds and obviously Wanda won when Y/n let go of her hand.
I sat in silence for a moment thinking about what to say, but it turns out I didn’t have to. “Have you signed the papers yet?” She asked coldly. Her words were like daggers to my heart. “No, and I don’t plan to.” I responded and she scoffed. “You were the one that wanted a divorce Natasha, just sign them and we can move on.” She retorted, not making eye contact with me once.
I know Y/n more than I know myself. I can always get a pretty good read on her. I thought it would be difficult if she had closed herself off, but I could tell she was in so much physical pain, that she wasn’t able to fight to keep those walls up right now. And I knew she didn’t really want me to sign the papers. She’s trying to protect herself. “I don’t want to move on. I want to make things right with my wife.” I said firmly. “Ex-wife.” She muttered and once again her words hurt. But I deserved it.
“You’re not my ex-wife. We’re not divorced yet and I don’t plan of letting that happen.” I insist. “If you don’t sign them, I’ll go through the courts if I have to. I have grounds for divorce. You cheated on me. My lawyer said that I can proceed with that alone.” She explained and I realised just how much she had done in a short space of time. “Well, I didn’t cheat, your grounds are gone. So how about you just talk to me for a moment before trying to force through a divorce that neither of us want.” I kind of shouted and I saw her flinch slightly.
“Don’t lie Natasha, you’ve already hurt me enough, please just stop.” She said, her voice cracking. “I’m not lying. I did kiss another woman that night. I was drunk and then as she wanted more, I stopped it. I didn’t sleep with her because even in my drunk ass state, I couldn’t do that to you. You don’t know how much I regret even kissing her, let alone then letting you believe that I cheated on you. Wanda read my mind, she can show you that I’m not lying.” I quickly explain hoping she’ll believe me.
“Then why did you say you did? Did you just want to hurt me?” She asked and I hated my response, but I had to be truthful. “At the time yes. I was angry and I thought the only way I could process everything was in my own stupid way. I was frustrated when you would try to help so I just pushed you away and then lied so I could get you to leave me.” I said shamefully, unable to keep eye contact. I could hear her sniffling and it was killing me knowing I was causing her pain all over again.
I then heard shuffling as she started to get out of bed, pulling off the wires attached to her body. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” I said jumping out of my seat to push her back into the bed. “I can’t stay here right now. My own wife just admitted that she wanted to hurt me. When all I had ever done was try to help her through her grief. I took every harsh word you ever said to me because I knew you were hurting, and you didn’t mean it. It was more important that I was there for you. But that night, I looked in your eyes and I could tell you did mean it. My wife, my Natasha, would never have treated ANYONE like that regardless of what she was going through.” She was crying and she was angry, and she was right.
I fight with her a little to make sure she stays in her bed. I can’t have her hurt herself anymore. “Please just stay here. You’ll make your injuries worse. If you want, I’ll leave and give you space.” I tried to bargain with her. She huffed and dropped back on the bed, giving a slight hiss in pain. “I don’t want space. I want to stop feeling all this pain. I want to stop feeling like the world is slowly falling from underneath me. I can’t do this until you let me move on. So just sign the god damn papers.” She almost yelled.
I did this too her. I caused this pain and turmoil by being selfish. But I wasn’t going to give up on her. “I’m not signing the papers.” I insisted once again. “I made you a promise on our wedding day that I would fight for us through anything. I broke that promise which I will never forgive myself for. But I still plan on living by that promise now. There is no one else like you in this world. You make me feel whole and without you there is just darkness. I let myself get lost in grief and used it as an excuse to act out. I know that you still love me. I also know that you are trying to protect yourself because you think that I’ll just end up hurting you again. So let me make one more promise to you that I will never break. I will never stop loving you and I will never hurt you again. Just please give me one more chance.”
I’m pleading to her through my own tears and every minute of silence is slowly killing me. I’m losing her, I’ve fucked up and I’m going to lose her. “Please, what can I do to get you to give me one more chance.” I begged. She sighed but looked up at me. “Go to therapy. You need to process what happened with Clint before you can commit to our marriage again. You need to help yourself before you can help me.” She said and I nodded along in agreement. “Anything for you. I’ll get myself sorted and I’ll be the best wife that you deserve. But you need to make me a promise.” I said, hoping I wasn’t crossing a line.
She raised and eyebrow at me but encouraged me to carry one. “Stop closing yourself off and going on dangerous missions to deal with your own pain. Wanda won’t cope if she loses you and I need my funny, caring, and loving wife.” I explained and she looked down to her lap, but she eventually nodded.
I sat on the side of her bed and pulled her towards me and placed a kiss on her head. “We’ll get through this. I’ll make everything up to you and we’ll be back to where we were. Ready for the rest of our lives together and maybe starting that family we talked about.” I said hesitantly, hoping she still wanted the same things that I did. “I love you, Tasha.” Those simple words brought warmth to my heart, and I started to sob into our embrace before responding “I love you too my Angel.”
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thefallennightmare · 2 months
Text
Faded Memories- Chapter One Teaser
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a/n: so with this series, it will be very small. I think 6 chapters. Updates for it will be sporadic, so if you haven't already filled out my tag list document, feel free to post here or the master list post for this series if you want to be tagged!
I plan on hopefully getting the first chapter posted sometime this week(and then I will jump back into JP!)
Heads up, Matty will be a dick in this series. We love mean!matty. But its kind of justified once you find out why.
LITTLE LONGER THAN NORMAL TEASER BELOW THE CUT!
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"Elvi," Matt grunted, his warm breath fanning over the back of my neck.
I pushed my ass farther back against him, desperately needing him to go faster; deeper.
"Matt," I whined. "Please. I need more of you."
A tender kiss to the middle of my spine was all I felt before his pace became erratic, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the small hotel room. The room had filled with the musty scent of our shared arousal and with the sounds of the lies of our true feelings. Both of us knew this wasn't meant to happen, the outcome of this being catastrophic for our friendship but we couldn't deny the chemistry between us; the way our bodies practically craved one another.
Rough, calloused hands smacked my ass, causing me to bellow out in pleasure. Matt's other hand snaked around my neck, hoisting my jaw up towards the ceiling.
"You're so fucking pretty when you scream for me, Elvi," his teeth grazed over the shell of my ear. "I'm not letting you go after tonight. You're mine."
Blinking away the memory, I stood in the middle of the large parking lot while letting out a deep breath. That specific memory from four years ago continued to inhabit my mind. I could still feel the way his cock felt inside of me. I could still smell his scent as it lingered deep into my skin for weeks. I could still remember the way my heart dropped to the depths when I heard him on the phone minutes after we came down from our shared high.
But worst of all, I could still remember the way I cried for what could have been as I slipped out of that hotel room, never looking back.
Touring with Bloodline was never supposed to end like it did. I wasn't supposed to lose my best friend from a night of sexual tension that boiled over like a forgotten pot of water on a stove; yet, like the pot, everything between us evaporated into thin air.
Shaking away the distant feeling of regret, I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and trekked over to the large tour bus as my future awaited me. I gave small waves to everyone, already meeting them days ago, and as Folio showed me up the steps of the bus, rambling on about how excited he was that I was his drum tech for this world tour, I did my best to match his excitement even though I was nervous as hell.
"There's one bunk left, it's right across from our tour manager and front of house guy. He's great though, you'll love him!" Folio smiled as we came to a stop in the middle of the bus.
"Speak of the devil," he chuckled before motioning towards a man who sat on the long couch of the tour bus, hat hung low over those eyes.
Folio's words fell away against the numbness of my body as I stared at the man sitting in front of me; those fading memories slowly resurfacing. Four years later, and he still looked the same.
The only difference was the sheer heartbreak on what used to be the soft features of his face. Those already dark eyes inked with sheer black when they took in the sight of me, remembrance clear as the Los Angeles sky.
"Matt, this is my new drum tech. The one I was telling you about. Her name is-."
Matt stood tall, interrupting Folio's introduction, and he peered down at me. I swallowed thickly, that all too familiar scent encompassing me, rendering me useless.
"Elvi," Matt sneered before roughly pushing past me to stomp his way toward the back area of the bus.
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Lady dimitrescu x fem! Maid reader
Name: " I see the way you look at me"
Warning: mommy kink, 18+ content, indecent language, eating out, kissing, NSFW,teasing, fingering, age gap, dominance, overstiumlation.
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It's safe to say that you had the fattest crush on your mistress alcina, well lady dimitrescu. You were never allowed to call her by her first name, you weren't even allowed to call her lady dimitrescu. She always made you wear a balck collar with A.D initial on it, owning you.
You were her maid since you were a little kid.
Your father was a rich merchant who did dangerous missions on vampires, werewolves, zombies etc all around the world killing them brutally. One day he accidentally killed one of alcina's fore-sisters. So while your mother was pregnant with you he made a deal to let you serve by her side for all eternity as her maid and "personal helper".
Lady dimitrescu was very evil, lets say. Not precisely though. She had to feed. She was a vampire, every vampire needs blood. But sometimes you'd watch as she slather innocent people well, men really, only men. And suck them dry. As a kid at the time you were scared of her, always obeyed her. Lady dimitrescu was a monster and so were her 3 weird daughters. Let's not go into their life..... let's just say their worst than their mother.
Lady dimitrescu was old enough to be your mother around her early to mid forties. She was 6 feet but she loves to were heels that would carry it up to 6'3. She towered over you like a building. She always smelled good. Always looked good. She would go around the house just walking around.
Sometimes she'd watch you clean, as she leaned against the wall of the kitchen you could feel her eyes piering at you. You were cleaning the top to the kitchen cupboards, but you couldn't reach. it was so high, obviously a giant lived here. You were really struggling. "Need help my sweet dove?" A low but stern voice asked. You knew to well who is was. "Yes please mistress" you replied softly.
You heard her heavy foot steps as she walks towards you, her heels clinging on the floorboards as she do so. She placed both her hands on either side of your waist and guided you up a few more inches. You quickly grabbed the stuff and she placed you back down. You turned around to face her not looking up. You didn't dare look at her. It was against the rules. Well so you were told.
Her hands never left your hips. Owning their place there. You were getting hot. Your knees began to give out. You were sure she could see the big red spots on your face. "Why don't you look at me darling" she said lifting your chin a little. She looked down on you like you were her prey, eyes filled with lust and desire. "Your so precious, and precious things needs to be treated with care don't you think?" She asked staring down at you.
The height difference alone took you out. You began to feel this pool between your legs driping from your core. You nodded like a dumb fool, at this she chuckled as she brings her hand up to your face to caress your cheeks. "Use your words baby, mommy wants to hear them" God you loved her voice. So soft but demanding. When lady dimitrescu gives an order she expects it done. " y-yes please mistress" you said but it was so low, almost like a whisper.
She chuckled, she knew the effect she has on you. She lifted you up and placed you on the counter. You were breathing heavy. She made shivers run down your spine and she felt it. Her body was very close to yours. You opened yous legs so that she could stand between them. With your legs on either side of her your maid dress was carried up a little. Now your thighs were exposed. Her fingers creeped up them with ease. Your head dropped back as you let out a whine, bucking your hips closer to her.
She had the largest smirk on her face. She loved seeing you so needy for her. She pulled your head back using your hair giving her more access to your neck. Her long snake tongue flicked across you neck, causing a sweet moan to break lose from you. Lady dimitrescu wanted you to make more of those sounds under her touch. She chuckled as she felt your legs shake beside her.
She hovered over your ear causing her hot breath to tickle you. "I can't wait to destroy you little one " she whispers before withdrawing her self from you. She smirks as she walks away. Her hips swaying with every move. You caught your breath and went back to work.
You couldn't focus, but you had to because you had to clean the house for Cassandra's birthday. One of alcinas daughters, in fact the middle born. She was your favorite of them all. The party planers were soon to arrive, and you needed to get ready before then.
You quickly finished up and went to your room. You didn't know what to wear. While you were dashing clothes out of your closet, you realized that a black box was sitting on your bed with a red ribbon,along with a little note card. You picked up the card and opened it and began to read.
"Bought this for you little pet, do wear it as it is. It's a little inappropriate but mommy would love to see her pet in it"
You immediately undid the ribbon and opened the box. The dress was beautiful. It was a red dress with an open back style, with slits at the sides to give your legs room to show. After doing your makeup and hair you put on your dress and matched it with some clear heels.
The party had just started when you out . There was alot of people that would attend the dimitrescu family parties every year. werewolves, vampires, ghouls, zombies, etc. You were very scared of them when you were younger, but lady dimitrescu always protected you from their little tricks.
During the party alcina couldn't take her eyes off you, not even to pay attention to her daughter Cassandra. She made it very difficult for you to focus on anything. She'd gave you theses dirty looks. Her eyes would fill with lust and desire everytime they were casted upon yours. She made you feel things, and she knew it. You felt like you couldn't breath. Her staring become so intense that you had to leave and go to your room.
While in there you tried to clam down and steady your breathing. Soon you heard a knock on the door, you knew fully well who it was. Opening the door alcina steped through the door frame. Yellow crystal eyes stared down at you through long thick lashes. You Back away til you were pressed up against a wall. "Such a pretty girl" she cooes as she caresses your cheeks.
You began to breath fast. You knees began to quiver and shake beneath you. Alcina knew the effect she had on you, so you didn't find it surprising when she placed her hand on your waist and the other in your hair. She pulled back your hair and began kissing your neck, her snake tongue, god that tongue could work miracles. The She way it flicked across your neck, god to have it flick across your pussy.
Your were still breathing heavy. She chuckled as she smiled on your sensitive skin causing you to shiver. "Did I take your breath away darling?" She said as she pulled away with a line of sliva following. You whimpered at the sensation. "Please mommy" you whined, grinding your body on hers " what is it baby, tell mommy what you want most" she whispered her hot breath tingling your ear. " I want you to fuck me, please I'd really like that" you spoke.
She smirked as she looked down on you like her prey that you were."be careful what you wish for darling" she cooed. "Take off your clothes " she demand. You quickly obeyed your mistress and did as you were told. Her eyes raked up your body like it was food.
She walked up to you and met her lips with yours. Demanding entrance with her tongue, you quickly granted her permission. Her tongue swooped into your mouth filling you with pure ecstasy. She quickly dominated you, owning you. Every single inch.
It was the best kiss you have in your entire life. She pushed you away from her gently licking her lips. "Get on your knees" she said. You did as you were told and she laughed at your obedience. "Good girl, so quick to please mommy. Now it's time for mommy to do the same for you" she said walking towards the bed.
She laid on the bed and tapped the space next to her. You got up off the ground and went up to sit on the bed beside her. "Now sit on my face" she said. Your eyes widen. She noticed your hesitation, smirking at you. "Did I stutter little dove?" She asked her tone of voice being colder than earlier, an early sign of her rage building. You'd hate to get her mad like how Ethan would get her mad, so you obeyed.
You lowed your face over hers. She grabbed your hips and plunged you down on her. As soon as your cunt met her wet sloppy tongue your collapsed onto stomach, turning the position into a 69. Her tongue gently worked over your clit, hovering over it lightly flicking her tongue over your sensitive bud. She gently started sucking and pulling on your bud. Your eyes rolled to the back on your head as sweet moans left your mouth.
Alcina moaned against your cunt as she tasted your sweet juices. She worked her tongue up and down your folds and she plunged her long tongue into you. You cried out. It felt so good. The way she would flick her tongue up and down as she sucked sucked. She was driving you crazy. You soon began to feel a knot in your stomach.
Your legs began to shake. Taking advantage of your soon to come orgasm she pushed 2 fingers into you, curling them instantly as she fucked you endless both with her tongue and fingers.
"Mommy" you cried out whimpering.
" Yes baby?" she spoke sending vibrations across your pussy. She held your legs open with her free hand.
" f- fuck mommy please" you cried out as you felt your orgasm nearing closer and closer every thurst of her fingers and flick of her tongue.
" Yes baby i know, ready to cum?" She asked going faster with her tongue and deeper with her fingers.
"God your so warm and tight. Go on Cum for me baby" she said. and so you did. She kept fucking you ruthlessly like an animal. You couldn't take it. The overstiumlation was too much.
" oh God mommy please I can't" you cried tears falling from your face.
" Yes you can babe make mommy proud" she cooed. Soon you cumed again making a mess of her fingers. She removed her fingers licking your juices off her fingers. She cleaned you up.
" aren't you mommy's good girl, and her good little fuck toy aren't you" you nodded as she chuckled. She fixed her clothes and so did you, you both went back out and went different ways.
The rest of the night your legs wouldn't stop shaking, and alcina noticed chuckling to her self. She ruined you and now you were hers.
And only hers to ruin.......
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muddyorbsblr · 1 year
Text
a tale of ice baths and hot sauce
See my full list of works here!
Placement: the day after 'a sizing mishap'
Summary: An effort is made to find out who your mystery boyfriend is during the Elementals challenge when some members of the staff see some marks on your neck that weren't there before…
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: language [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: mango mention (no really i did that here lol); bit of insecurity from Reader if you squint
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"You think anyone would notice if I just pinched a chip from the bowl?" you joked while setting up the table for the Elementals-themed challenge that a handful of the Soccer Aid players were going to voluntarily subject themselves to with Joelah, the host for most if not all the promo videos for this event. You raised an eyebrow playfully at her when she approached the table with a giddy little skip in her step, practically twirling in her outfit of relaxed fit jeans and a diagonal cut asymmetrical crop top. "Please tell me where you go shopping I'm in desperate need of cuter clothes. I mean, 'raiding the boyfriend's closet chic' is cute and all but…I also drown in fabric whenever I do it."
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Y/N, I think you're faring pretty damn fine if I do say so myself." She waved a hand at your current getup of a cropped loose olive green halter top and a black ruffle skort. "Players seem to enjoy it well enough," she mumbled with a lower tone, as if warning you that you were currently being ogled. "Oy! Eyes on the ball, you pervy lads!"
"Thanks," you told her with a smile, pulling your hair into a ribbon so that it wouldn't stick to your sweaty neck. "Now…do you wanna share with the class why you were skipping--"
"Bloody hell, Y/L/N, your neck!" she gasped, pointing at the right side of your neck and collarbone. "You didn't have that when I last saw you yesterday--Oh my lordy me, you hooked up with someone here! Is it one of the players? That social media star on the World team? One of the pros? Sam Claflin??"
"No on all fronts, Jo," you laughed off her questions. "My boyfriend's working the event, too. I was with him." Her jaw dropped to the ground with your revelation. "We're keeping things a bit…low key, you know?"
"Oh you and your secrets," she teased, still motioning toward your neck. "If that isn't a sign that screams 'Horny blokes step the fuck back', I haven't the faintest idea what is. Anyways, what were you asking earlier?"
"Ah, right. I was gonna ask why were you skipping on your way here like you were back in school and teacher just gave you a gold star?"
"Oh…Oh! Because I just got the players for the Elementals Fire and Ice challenge and Number 6 lit'rally up and volunteered to represent Team England." She made a motion fanning herself. "That godly bod dripping wet and clothes just clinging to him? Lordy me have mercy. And whoever put him in the teeniest jersey and shorts imaginable, I just wanna eurgh! Wanna grab 'em and thank 'em to the high heavens, y'know? Thank 'em for their service."
You are very welcome, you thought to yourself.
"Maybe if you leave an iced coffee on the table and go pspspsps they'll acknowledge your gratitude," you joked, once again pointing to the chips. "I'm taking a pinch. And trying out these sauces, I've been deadly curious since yesterday."
"You take the green one, I'll take one of the reds," she offered, already getting a large chip for herself and placing a few drops of the brighter red condiment. When you had placed a dollop of the green hot sauce onto your own chip, you clinked your pieces together before taking thing whole and bracing for the worst. "Fuck all that is hellish!" she mumbled around her piece, eyeing you incredulously while you just continued on chewing and letting the taste of the sauce linger for a moment or two. "How in the…"
You grabbed all the bottles and looked over the labels with a scrutinizing eye. "The green's deceptive. Makes you think you're getting the milder one but it's got the highest level of Scoville units. I feel sorry to whoever's gonna end up with that."
There was some motion from the corner of your eye, which you quickly realized were the camera crew and some other members of the staff carting around numerous 10 gallon bottles of water and 3 drums. And following just behind them were the six players slated to play this little trivia game. You gave them all a little wave and a courteous smile, making sure to hold eye contact with each of them, and saving Tom for last so you could allow yourself the indulgence of holding his gaze for a fraction of a moment longer, which he returned with a small wave and an obviously deliberate infinitesimal twitch of his two middle fingers.
"Goodness, Y/L/N," one of the staff members, Allen, bellowed. "What happened to--"
"My neck?" you finished for him. "Don't worry about it. My boyfriend thinks himself a vampire," you answered with a casual shrug, earning you a round of chuckles from the rest of the crew and the players. You motioned toward the water drums. "Should we get that all set up then?"
"Oh. Yeah, for sure." He waved his arm toward the drums as well. "Have at it."
"I could help you," Scarlette chimed in, already taking the end of the drum in front of you and jutting her chin in the direction of your neck. "I didn't see that on you yesterday when I picked up my uniform. I take it your boyfriend's somewhere in the building then?" She capped off her question with a cheeky wiggle of her eyebrows.
"Yes, and I'm not saying a single word on where and who he is. But I won't deny it if anyone guesses correctly. The only catch though…you only get two guesses each," you offered, looking at both her and Joelah.
"Claflin," Scarlette spoke immediately, causing the other one to make a motion as if to stop her but all too late.
"Aaaaand that's one wrong guess. Also makes you the second person in this place to for some reason think that I'm bumping uglies with Finnick Odair."
"I could've told you it's not Mister Clock App, or Claflin…or any of the pros," Joelah grumbled out. "We're down to three."
You two set up the last of the water drums, making sure that they were equidistant from one another, and after thanking Scarlette you moved toward the massive water bottles to start filling them up. "Let me help you," Tom spoke up, already placing his hands under the bottle, brushing his hands across yours before taking most of the weight of the bottle and leading you both toward the drum. "You reckon they'll guess me, darling?" he asked under his breath.
"Absolutely not," you answered, keeping your voice down. "I don't think they'll even consider it a possibility that I can pull you."
"Personally I think you pull me just fine," he shot back, smirking when you had to suppress a chortle from his words. "More than fine, actually."
"Menace," you hissed, trying to covertly take deep breaths while the two of you walked to the next bottle and repeated the process.
"Only for you, sweetheart."
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"Okay you must be built all kinds of different, because I don't think I coulda kept my wits about me being that close him with the guns on full display, and in close proximity to…what was it the internet called it again?"
"The mango?" you prompted Joelah, causing you both to break out in stifled giggles while waiting for the camera crew to finish setting up.
"Yes! And I saw that little hand brushing, too I mean—how were you not absolutely swooning the second he walked up to the bottle? Hell, how did you even function?"
I have been under those guns on full display and touched more than just his hand, you thought to yourself, holding your words back and instead gave her a little shrug. "Worked with him before. You get used to it," you bluffed. "Besides, I've got someone, and I'm really happy and stupid in love. So there's that, too."
"We need a hand here!" Scarlette called out in your general direction, her and Bugzy already on their feet but pointing at Tom who for some unknown reason, currently had both feet sticking up and out of the drum and putting him in a position that made it exceedingly more difficult for him to get up and out of the drum.
"How in the actual fuck did he even get like that?" you started thinking aloud. A strangled noise slipped from your mouth the second his head dipped below the water and his hands lost their grip on the edge of the drum.
You knew that he would be able to find his way back up, but it didn't stop the way your heart caught in your throat. The way that your legs were involuntarily twitching as if taking on a mind of their own and urging you to make your way to him.
If he hadn't stuck his head back out from under the water just a few seconds later, you would have been more than ready to run to him and help him to his feet, check on him the way he often checked on you when he would see you short of breath on set. You wouldn't have given a damn about the cameras capturing your every move.
But instead you were frozen in place, watching as he ascended and took a big heaving breath, shaking the water from his hair and his eyes before finding your gaze. You were suddenly acutely aware of nearly every minute movement of your body trying to fight back every reaction you had to the excessively obvious bedroom eyes he was giving you, resorting to subtly digging what little fingernail you had into the palm of your hand to at least focus on something else until he looked away.
You moved the moment you clocked the excitement on the faces of Joelah as well as some female members of the staff, already undoubtedly about to speak up that they would gladly help him out. "Can we cut?" you hollered toward the cameraman, who responded to you with a simple thumbs up, pressing a button on his equipment that stopped recording. You quickly whipped out your phone and snapped a picture of Tom in the precarious position before you reached him.
"Really, Y/N?" he huffed, feigning exasperation but you knew that tone better than any other person around you at the moment. He was amused. And you would be in trouble later tonight. You even began to doubt if you could completely walk properly in the morning or if you would walk into the briefing area with a more than slight penguin waddle.
"Had to," you quipped, shrugging your shoulders and scrunching your nose at him reflexively before placing your phone back in your pocket and holding your arms out toward him so he could brace himself. "Tuck your feet back into the drum."
You heard the slightest grumble from him before he wrapped a hand around one of your arms, did exactly as you said, and then wrapped his other arm across your shoulders while he tried to find his footing in the undoubtedly slippery interior of the water drum. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered under his breath, pulling you closer as you gripped the towel that was handed over to you and making quick work to spread it out and use it as a cover from prying eyes and wild cameras once his feet were firmly planted on the ground again.
The heavily curious gazes of everyone around you gave you enough pause to not wrap the towel around his waist, realization quickly dawning on you that the gesture would definitely be seen as a show of intimacy. You avoided his gaze as he took the towel from you, opting instead to lead the way to behind the backdrop, picking up his cleats and bag on the way.
You felt the irrational bristling of your skin as the sound of women giggling and commending your boyfriend on his form throughout the drills hit your ears, your hands finding it difficult to grasp the small laundry pouch you'd packed in his bag and a fresh pair of socks from the near violent shaking. When a familiar ridiculously large hand appeared in front of your face, you looked up abruptly to find Tom standing above you, the smile on his face growing brighter when you placed your hand in his and stood up.
"You're shaking," he murmured, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Come here."
He caught you off guard when he tugged you into his arms, a small yelp escaping you before you could stop yourself that had you hoping that nobody on the other side of the backdrop heard it. "What're you doing?" you questioned him in hushed tones, holding back your giggles as he pressed the fluffy sleeves of the bathrobe that he wore to your face and neck. Your hands wrapped around his wrist when he started patting at the exposed skin of your chest. "Sweetie!" You couldn't hold back your giggles when he used his free arm to wrap around you and pull you closer to him.
"You're wet," he said simply, continuing to pat at your dampened skin.
"Well I'm your girlfriend, it kinda comes with the territory," you quipped, letting out another barely muted squeal when he pulled his hand from your grasp and grabbed the back of your head to pull you in for a kiss. Almost immediately you melted in his arms, both of you smiling against each other's lips as you wrapped your arms around him. "Private--"
"This is private, goddess," he cut you off, capturing your lips in another soft kiss. "Public would be bringing you to the center of the field and marking you again with everyone as witness so that there isn't a shadow of doubt in anyone's mind that you're mine."
The sound of the camera crew calling out for him snapped you two out of your moment. "Give me a minute," he hollered out, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before loosening his hold on you and letting you step back from him. You offered him your hand to hold himself steady while he changed out the soiled socks from the challenge. "Did you take a look at the hot sauces on the table?"
"Of course I did," you quipped, scrunching your nose at him when his eyes flickered to yours. "Don't take the green one, it's a trap."
"I'll keep that in mind," he murmured, eyeing you with a smirk when he stood upright and you took his shin guards from him. "And what exactly are you doing, darling?"
You answered him with a playful grin. "Oh I'm sorry. Would you like to try putting these on through two layers of fluff?" He answered you with a minute shake of his head. "No? Well alright then." You proceeded to crouch down and place the shin guards under the knee-high socks, only stopping when you heard a shutter from above your head and looking up at him from your position with a bemused smirk. "Really, Tom?"
"It needed to be done," he said with a chuckle, waving your phone tauntingly in his hand. "After all, you do look so tempting from this angle. Let me just send this to my phone really quick."
You made a point to audibly snap the garter of his sock against his skin, making him jump the slightest bit and squint his eyes at you as you rose to stand upright again. "Give it back," you cooed, holding your hand out. Instead of doing just that, he grabbed hold of your hand and closed the distance between you, placing your arm over his shoulder as his hands roamed down your back before settling in your back pockets.
Before you could say a single word, he pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss and you could feel the weight of your phone back in your pocket. As well as his hand grabbing a handful of your ass before he pulled away. "I love you," he whispered, briefly brushing the tip of his nose across yours before stepping backwards, back to the set so that the World Team could have their turn at the ice baths.
"I love you, too." The sound of the crew calling out your name this time and telling you to come help in setting up the next batch was enough to wipe the smitten grin off your face and send you running in the other direction.
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A/N: Starting off my 5-day weekend strong with a new Soccer Aid piece out! I have one more that I'm gonna focus on before I give Soccer Aid Hiddles a break from the page for a while to focus on…'relinquish the crown: plans & protestations'! 😳👀 It's been too long since I've written those two blorbos and I miss them so they're next 💖
everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee
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thepenultimateword · 4 months
Text
The Worst Kind of Medal
The war had left more scars on the nation than it had Umbra’s body, so she wasn’t surprised that the airship came in 6 hours later than the schedule had claimed. She was more surprised that she was still standing on the platform, bold-lettered sign locked in her fists at either corner, when it arrived. No one had told her she needed to be at the port when Prince Waylon arrived in Graybourne, only that he was to be her lifelong charge forever after. She probably should have left a soldier here in her place and enjoyed her last few hours of freedom at home.
A bit of guilt pricked her insides. That was unfair. No one had forced her into this marriage arrangement. She’d accepted it–maybe only for the promises that came along with it, but still an acceptance. If she was uncomfortable now, it was her fault.
Several men leaped from the ship deck, ropes coiled under their arms. They rushed to knot the tethers to the docking posts as their feet touched the ground. It was complicated to get a ship back in the air once grounded, so most docks were constructed on cliff faces or in Greybourne’s case on towers. This allowed the ship to remain airborne yet steady for boarding and exiting; the same went for inspections and refueling. The only real reason for a ship to land was in case of major repairs.
The plank dropped, and a surge of people rushed onto the platform. Umbra scanned the crowd, with rapid scrutiny. She wished she’d asked for a photograph of her potential husband before the royal family shipped him here. The monarch probably wouldn’t grant her another reward if she lost him on the very first day. 
“Ser Umbra!”
Her gaze shot to the deck where a man with long silvery hair braided crownlike around his forehead and then draped loosely over one shoulder waved over the crowd. Another man, hair-slicked and face creased with a long-suffering frown, reached out to grab him, but the prince was already bounding down the plank. He was more petite than she had expected, his head bobbing in and out of sight as he weaved clumsily through the crowd, bumping shoulders every few steps. As he darted around the last mozying couple, he nearly barreled straight into her chest, but he managed to catch himself just short, tipping up onto his toes in the process.
“Ser Umbra,” he repeated, panting up at her with a broad smile. “I-it’s really you! You came yourself! I really wasn’t expecting to see you straight off the ship! Ryann told me I probably wouldn’t see you until tomorrow morning because of your duties!”
Umbra blinked at him. Her heart felt like it had been seized and clutched hard in her chest.
She’d wondered why the King had suggested Prince Waylon as her groom. It had seemed a very quick choice. She’d figured it was because he was fifth in line for the throne—the royal family wouldn’t marry a soldier to someone who could one day take the crown, no matter how much she’d done for her country. Now, looking at his peeking canines, golden eyes, and long, curling tail, it was abundantly clear this had been a careful act of strategy.
King Esmond had never been shy about taking wives, and as a result, many of his children came from foreign royalty, a way of securing many alliances at once. Not so with the Auskeran princess. Umbra had not yet been born when the marriage took place, but everyone knew that was where the tensions between the two countries had started. With the princess's death.
But now, with the war ended and Auskeran firmly independent from the rest of the world, no foreign alliances were waiting for a half-Auskerian prince. And keeping him around the capital was a liability in itself. His very appearance was a reminder of the recent horrors and a symbol of shame to the King. But he was still of royal blood, and banishments–no matter how merciful–had a habit of coming back to bite. So what did they do? They gave him to a local. Someone high enough to merit such a match but low enough that she couldn’t refuse. Someone who would take all the perks of having a royal spouse as appeasement for the inconvenience of his half-bloodedness.
Still, they had to have known her feelings about such a thing. The war had not ended so many months ago that an Auskerian, even half of one, didn’t bother her. Perhaps that was the very reason they’d said nothing. They wouldn’t want to risk her denial.
“How did you know what I look like?” Umbra said, forcing her clenched jaw apart. He’d picked her out from the crowd on sight. He couldn’t have seen the sign from that distance, could he?
The prince flushed a little. “Father showed me a photograph of the Greybourne division as soon as he told me about the marriage arrangement. He said you’re a general of high standing. You held the eastern front steady for two years before scouting over the border. You won us the war practically singlehanded!” 
Umbra was about to explain that it was far more complex than that but Prince Waylon carried on without pause. 
“And to think, of all the prestigious matches you could have received, Father chose me! I’ve been showing that photo to everyone for the last month! But it got sort of crumpled from carrying it around too much, so my sister painted your portrait for me as a wedding gift. See?” 
He pried open the locket around his neck and leaned forward to show her a very accurate, stoic miniature of her own face. She was dressed in her military uniform, her medal of honor–a medal that she’d really only worn twice, once when it was bestowed and again for a newspaper photo–pinned bold and gleaming to her chest.
 “She made one for you too, here!” He fished into his breast pocket and held out a matching bronze locket by its chain. 
Umbra watched it swing for a couple moments before she tentatively accepted it. “I, um…” He was staring at her so expectantly what was she supposed to do? She slipped the chain over her head, and the locket settled in the hollow of her chest. “Thank you.”
He continued to stare. Gaze flicking to the locket and back to her face again. He definitely wasn’t subtle. 
She picked open the latch and looked vaguely at the companion miniature. “Ah.”
It wasn’t much of a reaction but the prince immediately pounced on it.
“I hope it's ok. I wanted it to be more interesting or at least be smiling, but Isabeau said portraits are supposed to be serious. I’m lucky she let me be as expressive as that.”
“No, no, it’s very nice,” Umbra said. Lied. She hadn’t even noticed whether the portrait had been straight-faced or smiling. She should probably be more excited, or at least appreciative. Princess Isabeau was supposedly a real artistic talent—from the accuracy of her own portrait she had to agree—and her skill mixed with her status, made her paintings some of the most saught after in the kingdom. Now she had one around her neck and she couldn’t even give it a proper enough to look to give a specific detail of praise.
Luckily, Prince Waylon took her words at face value. He noticeably relaxed, and she snapped the locket shut again.
“Prince Waylon!” The other man from the ship shoved out from the crowd, a little more disheveled than he’d been moments ago and lugging two large suitcases. He let the cases drop heavily to the planks and tugged sharply on the ends of his black suit. “A member of the royal family does not fly off like that! You must conduct yourself with decorum! And that means staying with your escort!”
“I was with Ser Umbra, so it was fine,” Prince Waylon said.
The man’s attention flicked toward her, scanning her up and down with an unimpressed expression. As an employee to the royal family why would he be? 
“This is Ryann, my escort to Greybourne,” Prince Waylon said. “He’s supposed to return to Ashborough once he sees me settled.  
“Ser,” Ryann said with a short bow. “Unfortunately, the royal officiant was delayed, so the wedding will have to be postponed at least a couple weeks. I’m to stay until that point to be another witness.”
Great. The last thing she wanted was time to start overthinking things. She’d wanted this done as quickly as possible. And now, with the prince’s Auskerian features to unsettle her, she wanted it done even faster.
“You both must be tired,” she said, hefting up one of the suitcases. “My car is at the base of the tower. I’ll take you to the house so you can rest.”
“Oh, I’m not that tired–” Waylon began
“You drive?” Ryann interrupted as he grabbed the remaining case. “You don’t have a chauffeur?”
“I have drivers,” Umbra clarified. “For shopping and other errands. I simply prefer the autonomy of driving myself. Don’t worry, I don’t expect Prince Waylon to get along without a chauffeur.”
“Oh, maybe I could learn too?”
“Absolutely not,” Ryann snapped. “You’ll get yourself killed. Besides, who ever heard of royalty driving themselves? You’re not one of the working class.”
Umbra started down the first tower ramp, letting them fall into step beside her. Should she say something? Tell the prince he could try driving if he liked? But her drivers didn’t have time to keep an eye on him and she hadn’t planned on engaging in any extra responsibilities. She also didn’t think there was much point in ruffling the escort further. So she remained quiet.
Prince Waylon didn’t seem to take the denial too hard. He chatted a bit on the way down, pointing out the landscape and buildings as they went. Umbra nodded along, but didn’t listen much; she was more focused on the many glances the prince received from passersby, ranging from curiosity to outright disgust. Ryann must have been aware as well because he kept a protective hand on the prince’s arm the entire way down.
The car waited at the curb for them. A sleek green thing with three steam valves that she’d purchased shortly after the war’s end. It was easier traveling back and forth to the military headquarters this way.
“Here we are.” Umbra popped the door to the trunk, putting away the first suitcase and then taking the second from Ryann.
The escort dusted off his hands, as if the meanialness of the task were a visible smudge on his station. He then stepped back to survey the car’s body. “This is a handsome vehicle.”
 Umbra expected it was one of the only words of praise she was going to receive during his stay, but she still couldn’t find it in herself to use it to her advantage. “It does the job.”
 “Ser Umbra, can I sit up front with you?” Prince Waylon chirped from the side.
“You’re not going to address me as Ser Umbra our entire marriage, are you?”
His face washed a hot pink. “I wasn’t sure what you preferred.”
“You’re not a part of my regiment. Umbra is fine.”
“Then I’m just Waylon.” He smiled. A sweet, bright-eyed expression that made Umbra’s insides churn like someone was trying to turn them inside out. The officator had better get there fast.
She nodded curtly and circled around to the passenger door, holding it for him as he picked up the ends of his traveling cloak and slid inside. As she closed it behind him, she caught a glimpse of Ryann’s expression before he entered the backseat. Silent approval. Seemed she’d passed whatever test the employee had in mind for vehicle etiquette. She wasn’t look forward to any similar tests. Her rise in the military had granted her a title and a fortune, but she certainly could claim to be as well-bred as anyone in the royal court. Which for many was a sin in itself. 
The drive from the port to her small estate lasted only 20 minutes and was mainly quiet. Waylon ooed at every street and building they passed. Umbra couldn’t imagine anything here in Greybourne, a city on the very edge of the kingdom, could surpass Ashborough in all its capital glory. Perhaps he was only trying to be polite. However, as they pulled up the lane to the estate, his nose was almost pressed to the glass.
“It’s beautiful!”
Now Umbra knew he was being polite. The estate was a sturdy, grey-stoned building with two stories and several acres of surrounding meadow. A garage hid humbly and strategically around the back so as not to ruin the aesthetic view of the front or boast the ownership of two cars. It may have been larger than many of the other homes in Graybourne, and yes, it was rather pretty in the golden hour of evening, but it was nothing compared to the manors in Ashborough let alone the palace. Umbra had been dragged into several parties and ceremonies in the capital after the war’s official end, and extravagant was an understatement.
Waylon clutched his locket and mumbled under his breath. “It’s like a dream.”
A dream? What did princes have to dream about?
Umbra circled the drive and parked directly in front of the large oak front doors. Arlin and Madeline must have been watching from inside–she was impressed they stayed at the ready for the entire 6 hours she had been gone–because they rushed out the front the moment she stepped out of the vehicle. 
Arlin opened the passenger door before Umbra could make her way fully around, but to his credit, his surprise only lasted a moment. Raised eyebrows shot back down, parted lips promptly pinned shut, and he bowed his head as Waylon stepped down to the gravel drive. 
“Your majesty,” Arlin said, then moved on to Ryann’s door.
In the meantime, Madeline had made quick work of unloading the luggage. The bags seemed oversized compared to her small frame, but she showed no struggle as she carried them around. Her reaction to the prince showed more in an exchange of glances with Arlin than a change of expression. 
“Welcome back, Miss,” she said, “we were beginning to worry something had gone wrong.”
“Just a slight delay in the ship’s arrival,” Umbra said, passing the car keys to Arlin, who promptly took the car around to the garage. “Madeline, will you show the prince and his escort to their rooms? They’ve had a long trip, and it’s getting late.”
“Of course, Miss. I’ll let Henrietta and the others know that dinner will be served in the guests’ rooms tonight.”
“Thank you. Only tea for me tonight. Please have it brought to my office.” She didn’t think she could stomach anything else tonight. Maybe a cup of tea would settle some of her more turbulent emotions.
“Oh, Ser– I mean, Umbra,” Waylon said, the end of his tail flicking eagerly. “I’m really not tired, and I’d love to see more of the estate, and talk to you more. Maybe we can go for a walk–that meadow back there looks promising–and I can tell you–”
“My prince,” Ryann said firmly. The prince jolted, looking at Ryann with wide eyes. The escort gave him a subtle shake of his head.
Waylon looked down at the gravel, ears going slightly pink. “My apologies Ser Umbra. I overexcited.”
Oh no, she needed to say something didn’t she? Something smart and smooth that saved the prince’s feelings without backing down from her preference for a quiet night. She hated hosting. She especially the politics that came with it.
“I’d be happy to show you around the grounds tomorrow,” she said, hoping it didn’t sound forced. “The sun is about to go down soon and the view can’t be appreciated so well in the dark. Besides the meadow is riddled with rabbit holes; I wouldn’t want you to misstep and break an ankle.”
“Ah.” He raised his eyes toward her. Luminescence crept in at the corners. Once the sun had gone completely down, those eyes would be completely aglow. “That would be unfortunate. I…look forward to tomorrow then.” It was hard to read whether he believed her. His gaze showed some relief, but the wrap of his tail around his leg still spoke to some embarrassment. Nevertheless, some of his old exuberance slipped through the cracks in his politeness. “It was a joy–no, an honor–to begin making your acquaintance.” 
Umbra forced eye contact until he turned away, prompted toward the house by Madeline’s beckoning. A cold feeling had lodged itself in the middle of her chest. 
She hoped the officiator would come fast.
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underdark-dreams · 5 months
Text
Thank you everyone who has read this fic along its life! I finally got up the courage to tie it up with a bow. Here's the final chapter of my Rolan x Tav series Sage and Soldier, with links to the other pieces:
Blades and Spells [Fluff - First Meeting]
Good Night for Company - [Pining - Feelings Realization | NSFW] [ch1] [ch2]
[ch1] - [ch2] - [ch3] - [ch4] - [ch5]
A Strand to Climb - Ch.6
After the end of the world, there's a wizard's tower in the Upper City.
Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, NSFW | Word Count: 4.8k [Read on AO3]
There was no time to celebrate the death of the Absolute—not when Tav and her companions stood trapped on its back like one of the doomed cities of Netheril. Not when her ears had already begun swimming and popping from the breakneck speed of their fall.
Tav yelled something back to the rest, some stupid bit of encouragement meant to keep them all on their feet. What else could they do but hold on, after all? They were all helpless, exhausted from battle, keeping their footing however they could as the brain’s pulsating flesh descended from the sky.
When they punched through the misty cloud layer below, Tav’s stomach leapt straight up into her throat. They were sailing across the Upper City, and the high spire of Ramazith’s Tower was rushing forward to meet them.
Too soon, her ears rang with the sickening, rib-shaking crash as the dying Netherbrain collided with the column of the Tower. Her shout of horror was lost to the explosive crumble of masonry and the whip of wind. She had only a second to fear the worst. 
The impact spun the creature on its descent; Tav was knocked hard to her side, forced to scrabble for purchase on the monster’s slimy flesh as it careened sideways. Her limbs skated ineffectually over the brain’s folds—she was sliding toward the edge—
Not like this, her mind screamed in protest.
Tav yanked the sheathed dagger at her thigh and plunged it into the dying Absolute. Two hands gripped the hilt with all her might, even as her legs swung over the side of the Netherbrain like those of a limp ragdoll.
“Hells, we’re headed for harbor—!”
Behind her, Wyll’s yell of warning cut through. Tav understood at once—if they hit the Chionthar still standing on the back of the Netherbrain, its mass would pull them deep underwater with the strength of a vortex. She craned her neck blindly.
“Gale!” Tav shrieked for him, mad with panic. What if he’d fallen in the Upper City? What if he was gone, and she was beseeching a void?
Then she heard Gale’s voice call out for the Weave, and his spell hit hard along her spine. Her boots lifted unnaturally, the feet within them tingling with the power of flight—
The Netherbrain banked hard over the central City Wall. They were low enough now that Tav could make out figures with upturned faces—people watching the monster’s fall from the sky and fleeing away on foot, as if all pushed back by the same bank of wind. With one more lilt, the fleshy ground under her veered straight for the ancient wooden river docks.
A sharp glint of hope. If they timed their jump just right—if Gale’s spell lasted—
“Fuck this—” Beside her, Karlach was of the same mind. She was crouched low for balance, inching forward to the edge of the Crown for a better position. 
Tav used her dagger for leverage to push herself crouched. “Aim for the roof of the Counting House!”
She heard the others fighting to their feet behind her. Gravity was accelerating their fall; sharp rain and river mist buffeted against her face as they swung rapidly for the water. But first, they passed beside a wide expanse of flat stone ramparts.
And then—they jumped.
Tav’s limbs cried out in exhaustion; her rain-soaked leg plates jangled heavily with each boot tread. She dragged herself through the streets of the Gate on adrenaline alone. 
Those streets were in chaos. Though the battle was newly won, each corner she rounded brought a fresh skirmish. 
Newborn mind flayers stumbled about in swarms, hungry and rudderless without direction from their Elder Brain. Many still dripped with blood from the death of their human forms. Those Baldurians who weren't running from them with crying children in their arms had snatched up tools and blades alike to run the creatures through with the ruthlessness of survival. 
The chaos helped. Grit and blood and thudding bodies distracted Tav from the one sight she wanted to turn her head to, yet couldn't bear to see. 
As her boots climbed the cobbles north toward the Upper City gate, Rolan’s tower crumbled over and over in her mind’s eye. She felt like retching. Her lungs were on fire.
Please let him be alive, please let him be alive, please let him be alive—she prayed to any god who might still be listening.
A child’s scream brought her up short on reflex.
Silfy—the timid one from the Grove, the little girl who cried when Tav caught her stealing a worthless trinket. A young mind flayer was reaching for her, one long-fingered hand directing its neural heat where she stood frozen in terror.
Tav’s teeth ground in her skull. She was so thoroughly fucking done—her longsword scraped out of its scabbard and arced straight toward the creature’s throat. 
Just as the blow connected, an arrow shaft pushed out between the mind flayer’s dark eyes. It crumpled lifeless to the pavement in a heavy heap. Silfy turned tail without a backward glance; Tav squinted through mist and smoke, trying to identify the Flaming Fist who still held her shortbow poised.
“Lia!” Tav could have sobbed in relief. “Thank gods—is Rolan—?”
“I don’t know—” Lia’s voice was desperate as she ran closer. “Cal and I took the Sundries portal to fight with Cerys. Last we heard, Rolan was up manning the turrets.”
Tav could have swayed and collapsed where she stood. Only adrenaline kept her upright.
“I’ll find him,” she shouted above the surrounding chaos, half to herself, half to wipe that terrible fear from Lia’s face. She pushed away into a sprint without another word to her. 
He’s not dead—he wouldn’t die like that—
Would she even be able to find Rolan’s body in the wreckage if he was? Tav’s knees wanted to give way at the thought. She gasped air into her lungs, wresting that image of him out of her mind with everything she had.
When she rounded the road from Flymm’s Cargo, a powerful wall of heat nearly knocked her back on her rump.
The ancient prow of the Blushing Mermaid was ablaze. Flames the height of ten men towered into the gray skies above, unaffected by the steady drizzle of rain. Her steel chestplate grew painfully hot as she forced herself up the crest of the hill.
Shouts and acrid air clouded her senses as she dashed beside the scene. Tav caught sight of Zorru and Danis, leading a bucket line all the way from Gray Harbor; their voices cracked from heat and smoke as they yelled directions.
All at once, like the emptying of a giant basin over their heads, a crash of water fell over the blaze and its surroundings. The cobbles under her feet were abruptly drenched; Tav slipped and careened forward, catching herself hard on both hands in a clang of plate armor.
There was a deep, ominous creak from somewhere above her. Knocked breathless, Tav nevertheless craned her head back. 
The heavy wooden spindle on the ship’s prow that jutted over the street was already weakened from fire; now it was soaked through from the magical downpour. As she watched dumbstruck, it splintered with a slow twang. Then the wood snapped clean down the middle, and the length of it swung downward, straight for her legs.
Tav scrambled forward on hands and knees. Her boots and gauntlets scraped over the wet stones toward safety—
Footsteps were sprinting closer. There was a shouted incantation and a flash; Tav smelled roses as the Weave enveloped her completely for the space of a blink. Then she landed flat on her stomach in the middle of the street.
Thoroughly winded now, she coughed and wheezed for breath. The blaze and heat of the fire was strangely distant from where she lay. 
As her lungs finally filled again, Tav realized she wasn’t just lying on pavement—something soft under her torso had cushioned the fall. She lifted up with a groan to look down at what she’d fallen on top of.
Rolan was entirely covered in soot and masonry dust from horn to foot. The effect was that he blended almost completely into the gray cobbles at first glance. Only when he opened his eyes did she recognize the two golden flames staring back at her.
“Tav!” 
Rolan sat up so suddenly his horns nearly collided with her forehead. His hands gripped around her forearms with bruising force. “The Brain—I thought you’d—”
Her body had begun to violently shake as she took him in, each inch of his face strained with anxiety and streaked with dust and thoroughly alive—
Unable to go another second without him, Tav threw both arms around his neck. Rolan gripped her ribcage in turn, so tight and so long that her vision went spotty from lack of air. She couldn’t care less; in this moment, she would have dissolved right into him if she could have.  
“I thought you were dead, Rolan,” she gasped into his shoulder. “Your Tower—the Netherbrain crashed right into it.”
“Only the observatory.” Rolan’s voice was muffled against her hair. “Never planned to use it anyway—not much of an astronomer—”
Tav could have laughed hysterically if she wasn’t so out of breath. Rolan continued against her neck. 
“I was following it to the harbor, Tav, I had no idea what became of you—but then the fire, there were people inside—”
“You had to help,” she finished. She felt tears streaming fast and hot down her cheeks. The strength of her relief could’ve bowled her right over again. “I know, I know, just—”
They released each other at the same time. The kiss was stained with sweat and grime, yet it was the most satisfying one Tav had ever felt. She gripped Rolan’s face between two gauntleted hands, crushing his mouth against her.
“Lia’s okay,” she gasped out when Rolan’s lips finally left hers. “I met her south of here. She and Cal went with Cerys. Cal must be fine too, she would’ve said,” Tav added in a rush.
Rolan jerked his head in acknowledgement, his expression punch-drunk as he took her in. He was smoothing her hair back with both hands as if the motion was the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment.
“Are you all right?” Her voice was very small.
Rolan nodded at her again. Clearly spell-spent and dusted in plaster, he looked like his own ghost. “Are you?” Despite all that, his baritone reverberated warm and familiar in her chest.
“It’s so quiet,” she whispered hoarsely. Her words fell in almost comical contrast to the distant sounds of shouting, fire, and steel meeting illithid flesh. 
But she could tell from the way Rolan’s eyes moved over her expression that he understood. The tadpole was finally gone—her mind was entirely her own again.
Rolan’s spark was beginning to return. “Can you stand?”
As he rose, Tav wobbled experimentally to her feet along with him. Her knees were bruised from the tumble, and her calves threatened to cramp from exertion—but she put on a brave face. 
Unconvinced, Rolan kept an arm looped behind her back just in case; one hand fastened along her waist. Walking with him close at her side, the adrenaline began to ebb in her veins. Bone-weariness was instead closing in like a shroud. 
“We should find Cal and Lia,” she said, trying to sound purposeful. Her boots dragged with each step.
“Yes,” Rolan agreed. He was holding her very firmly—practically supporting half her weight. “And we should be sure your friends made it safely from the docks.”
Tav gave a mumbled assent. It was difficult to care about any of that now, though she knew she should. She found herself staring up at his profile beside her. 
“Rolan?”
He looked down in concern. “What is it?”
“After that…will you take me home?”
“My darling—” His lips pressed firmly to her brow. “Yes.”
Tav shifted on top of him with a mumble.
Rolan froze with arms still looped around her; perhaps the crinkle of scroll parchment had awakened her. 
But then her face snuffled back into the bare crook of his shoulder. The dead weight of her across his chest assured Rolan that she was still fast asleep.
It was a lucky thing that he’d settled with reading material at arm’s length—the small pack of rare scrolls Tav herself had gifted him. She’d been out cold since dawn, when they all made it back to the Tower. It was nearly twilight now, and the sun’s last orange rays were fading fast through the high windows of Rolan’s bedroom. The distant streets had grown quiet as the city retired to nurse its wounds for the night.
Rolan hadn't seen much of her battle with the Netherbrain. Tav hadn't been in a state to tell many details once it was finally over, either. She could barely keep her eyelids open. The only thing clear was that she was completely exhausted from it.
Before anything else, Rolan coaxed several very potent healing elixirs down her throat. Then he drew them a bath and helped her out of her bloodied armor. She leaned heavily against him under the water. By the time he wrapped her in a towel to dry, he practically had to carry her back to his room.
The only hint of her fire came out when he’d tried to guide her toward the bed for sleep. Tav refused to go anywhere near the large four-poster frame that had belonged to the Tower’s previous archwizard. In fact, she declared that the whole thing was to be burned, mattress and all. 
Rolan couldn’t decide whether he was more amused or touched by her vehemence.
Instead, she’d grabbed a fistful of the blankets and dragged them away in order to fall against the massive direwolf pelt rug in front of the fireplace. It was no feather bed, but still leagues more comfortable than how either of them had slept on the road to Baldur’s Gate.
Especially so with Tav draped over him, Rolan had since decided. She’d promptly held him to her and drifted off. Her bare torso was a comforting weight on his chest. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she slept, little steady breaths tickling against his neck.
Home. That’s what Tav had called this, hadn’t she? Silently, Rolan leaned his cheek against her hair as he read.
Lia and Cal had moved all their things into the Tower the same day its ownership changed hands. The few of Rolan’s possessions remaining in their Heapside flat had been left in a little pile just inside his bedroom door. Among them was the small leather scroll pouch Tav had gifted him on her arrival to Baldur’s Gate. 
By this point, Rolan was certain he could find a much larger wealth of arcane knowledge in his new library. Still…it felt important to study from these first. 
For one, they were certainly beyond anything he’d managed to teach himself from hand-me-down textbooks back in Elturel. Whoever she’d stolen them from must have been an advanced practitioner of the Weave. Or perhaps just a man with the wealth and fancy to build a collection, much like Lorroakan had been.
They were also a gift from Tav. That simple fact made them more valuable to Rolan than most of the wealth he’d inherited along with Ramazith’s Tower. 
Had she collected them one by one in her travels here, thinking of him while she did? A warm affection bloomed in his chest at the thought. He’d have to ask her when she finally woke.
It was as if she sensed the thought. 
With a deep inhale, Tav arched and stretched full-body against the length of him under the covers. Her hands both landed to tangle in his hair against their makeshift fur bed.
“Morning,” she purred sleepily against his neck.
Rolan decided then and there—he could very much get used to waking up like this. However, it seemed the right thing to correct her. 
He kissed her brow. “Evening, actually.”
Tav raised her groggy face from his chest then, wiping one corner of her mouth. His eyes left the page to watch her blink around his bedroom in a daze. The blood-orange light of sunset was stretching long and dim across the floorboards now.
“Oh,” she said softly, a single word holding great recognition. Her wide eyes flicked to his face. 
“Have—have I been laid on top of you like a dead fish this whole time?”
“I’d never call you that,” Rolan assured her calmly. “But yes.”
Tav looked at him in appraisal for a long moment. 
“I think you like it,” she decided, and laid her head back down over his heart. He chuckled to himself and raised his free hand to smooth the hair back from her face.
Tav sighed happily at the gesture. “What are you reading, Rolan?”
“One of the scrolls you gave me.”
“Oh? Tell me about it, then. I’m curious.” One hand had gravitated suspiciously close to his ear. Sure enough, her thumb and forefinger began tracing along its edges to the pointed tip.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Rolan sighed. He’d always been unable to ignore the shivers that flowed down his spine when she touched him there. “I’d tell you regardless.”
“I'm sorry—” Her touch fell from him immediately. “I don’t do it on purpose, really. They’re just so pretty.”
Rolan cleared his throat. “It’s fine. You can—go on. If you like. Just know it’s a bit distracting.”
After a moment, her fingers cautiously returned. She was careful to keep the motion smooth and predictable this time. Rolan focused back on the page he’d pressed to fall flat before she woke.
“This one teaches a technique for arcane portal conjurement. The linking of two locations with a path carved through the Weave.”
Tav swiveled on her chin to look up at him. “Like the one from the Sundries to your library here?”
Rolan hummed in assent. “I've read about wizards who linked much more distant places together. The distance from here to Waterdeep, for instance. It requires a tremendous bit of spellwork.”
“How on earth?” She frowned at him in curiosity. “Where do you put a portal if you can't see where it's going?”
“Not sure yet,” Rolan mused, already being drawn back in by his reading despite her affectionate intrusions. “Most likely it requires two casters to sculpt the spell properly. I’ll need to understand the basic mechanics first.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Tav replied. She snuggled back into to the warmth at his neck.
“Of course I will.” Rolan shook the parchment out with his hand to punctuate the statement. 
Tav let out a quiet exhale of laughter—but she said nothing to question him. It made Rolan swell with pride a bit.
He held her for another quiet moment as the fire snapped and danced in the hearth beside them. Its light seemed to burn brighter and even warmer now, with the sun finally gone behind the horizon.  
When Tav shifted further over his lap, he didn’t think anything at first. Perhaps she was still trying to get comfortable on their makeshift sleeping arrangements.
Then she ground the heat between her legs over his half-hard cock, and a reflexive sound was pushed from Rolan’s throat.
“Tav,” he groaned.
“I’ve always loved that confidence of yours.” She had propped herself up with hands on his chest to gaze down at him. The covers fell back to bathe her lovely bare shoulders and breasts and stomach with firelight. “You don’t understand, it’s like catnip to me.”
“Where's this coming from?”
“What? Is it not enough that I just woke up naked with the most handsome, brilliant young archwizard on the whole Sword Coast—”
As she showered him with teasing flattery, Tav canted her hips harder against his own. Rolan leaned back against the tips of his horns with another involuntary groan; the scroll fell away dangerously close to the fire, forgotten.
“Tav,” he repeated more forcefully, pushing himself up on one elbow. Her face above him was full of mischief. “You’ve just been through hells—are you sure you’re well enough to—?”
“Yes.” She threw her head back in a moan with the word. Rolan’s hands flew instinctively to her hips. She was already rocking and grinding in rhythm against him, leaving a wet patch of heat where their hips slotted together.
“You’re unbelievable—” Rolan held her arms back insistently, forcing her to look at him. 
Tav panted and bit her lip as they watched each other. He was of half a mind to return the favor. Look at the pretty hero of Baldur’s Gate, fresh from battle and already writhing on my cock—but the clear desire between her legs had rather scrambled his own thoughts. 
Instead, Rolan did what he could manage to tease her. “Tell me how you feel right now.”
“Hot.” Her voice was low and tempting; her eyes were dark with desire. “Wanting you. Needing you inside me—”
Even without leverage from her palms, Tav managed to shift over his ridges in a way that made Rolan twitch and shudder under her.
“Good gods—I want you too,” he heard himself gasp out. 
It was all the encouragement she needed. His grip had gone slack in distraction; with one hand guiding him, Tav angled herself up and sank down over the hard ridges of his length.
Her tight, wet heat all around him nearly knocked him breathless. Rolan lay back and ran his hands up her thighs. The firm muscle there led him straight to the lovely swell of her hips, and he gripped each hand with nails dimpling into her flesh.
Strong and soft—Tav was somehow both of those things at once. As she sat adjusting to him, her eyes certainly had never been softer than they were now, moving over his face.
“I missed this,” she breathed. 
Rolan nodded in silent agreement. From tonight on, he swore to himself, neither of them would ever have a chance to miss this.
When she began moving, it was slow and deliberate. Her hips glided up and down to take him—so warm, so perfect. Rolan glanced where their bodies met, watching his length disappearing into her again and again. The sight was almost too much; he felt compelled to close his eyes.
Instead, Rolan pushed himself seated. He couldn't be close enough to her. 
Tav folded her arms around his shoulders at once, adjusting to the new angle without breaking rhythm. Her face was bathed in firelight.
As he took in every inch of her, Rolan caught sight of an old blade scar under her jaw. He’d never noticed it before now. He leaned to press his lips against it.
She tilted her head with a soft sound, opening up the rest of her throat to his mouth should he want it. And he did—Rolan kissed and nipped at the flesh there while Tav rode him, her voice softly gasping and whispering his name over and over like a prayer. 
The rhythm of their hips together increased to something desperate. Rolan felt heat licking under his skin, burning like flame everywhere their bodies touched. She clutched desperate fingers over the deep ridges along his shoulder blades.
“Come in me,” she gasped. “Please.”
That one little word was his undoing. Who was he to deny the woman who had just saved everything he loved in the whole Realms, herself included? 
Rolan forced his mouth away from Tav’s throat to watch her come apart. She was already close—he could tell from the way her mouth fell open, the way her walls twitched and gripped him tighter each time she bounced down onto his lap. 
“I love you—” 
He wasn’t sure she heard with the way she arched and tensed into him—but then she already knew, didn’t she? Tav’s arms were trembling around his shoulders when she came, as if he was the only thing keeping her anchored down to earth. 
When he felt the coil inside him unraveling, Rolan buried his face into her shoulder again. She was whispering praises against the tapered shell of his ear—things too sweet to even commit to his own memory. Rolan clutched at her back with both hands as he finally shuddered and spilled inside her.
He kept his arms locked tight around her middle as the twitching waves at his core echoed and subsided. Then they tipped backward together, their bodies still connected, to land in a soft pile of fur.
For a long moment, the only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the way they both panted against each other. Lying on top of him again, Tav’s lips brushed against the trail of ridges below his collar bone.
Soon enough, one of his long fingers began tracing over her back. He practiced the shapes of his somatic spell components along the empty expanse of her skin. She was so soft and smooth there—so unlike the way Tieflings were formed.
He felt goosebumps raise where his fingers touched. Tav shivered against him. 
“That tickles,” she mumbled into his chest.
“Apologies, darling,” Rolan told her. Some other time it would be very interesting to investigate how ticklish she was. For now, he stilled to press his palm against her lower back instead.
Tav heaved a deep sigh against his chest. “What are we supposed to do now?”
Rolan crooked his head down at her. “What do you mean?”
“Now that it’s over.” Tav propped her chin on both hands to meet his eye. “I can barely remember what it feels like to just…live my own life. You know?” 
Rolan carded one hand back through her hair. He understood the feeling well. 
“There’s still plenty to occupy both of us,” he assured her. “I need to complete the Tower repairs before the next storm, which could be any day knowing Sword Coast weather. And the Lower City is in a state of absolute ruin. I’m sure you’ll have a hundred people knocking on my door come morning, asking for their hero’s help with a hundred different things—”
To his surprise, Tav sat up on his lap in a huff. The motion reminded him he was still softening inside of her. 
“There you go spoiling my fun,” she complained good-naturedly. “Here I expected you to be thrilled at the prospect of finally having me in your bed day and night, with no mortal peril hanging over either of our heads, no less. And you only want to discuss Baldurian civics—”
Rolan felt himself beginning to laugh at her, a relaxed and throaty sound. “Is that what’s troubling you? Tav, I thoroughly intend to fuck you often and well.”
“You’d better,” she warned, but the corners of her mouth had begun to twitch. He wanted to devour her.
“And since you’ve declared my own bed permanently off-limits—” 
In one motion he rolled their bodies to pin Tav under him. It earned him a little ‘oh’ of surprise; he was conveniently still buried between her legs. “You’ve put me in the position of having to be resourceful.”
“Big change for you, that?” Tav teased. But her legs crossed behind his flanks to keep him close. As they did, one of her heels inadvertently rubbed against the sensitive base of his tail. 
Rolan hissed in air between his teeth. He saw her eyes spark with recognition, and leaned down to kiss her senseless before she could do anything wicked with this new information.
By the time they surfaced from lips and tongues and teeth, he was already achingly stiff inside her again. Her hands ran down his front, flowing over each concentric pattern on his chest with open want. It sent a shiver all the way down his spine, from neck to tail.
The way Tav looked at him—the way she touched him as if he was perhaps the loveliest thing she’d ever seen. He decided it would take him years to get used to. Maybe he never would.
Rolan kept still regardless, waiting for her to finish her explorations. All traces of teasing were long gone from her now. 
Tav’s eyes reflected the warmth of the dying fire as reached up for him. She passed one more deliberate hand over the planes of his face, as if she’d like to memorize the feel of them. Her fingers landed to gently clutch around his jaw.
“My wizard,” she said softly. 
Rolan had never been one for pet names; even from the people he cared about most. Those words should have sounded diminutive and sentimental to him, even spoken by Tav. 
Instead…
They fell sweetly against his ear, flowed like honeyed wine down his throat, and nestled into a space that glowed with warmth somewhere behind his ribs.
And why shouldn’t they? He was her wizard, after all.
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